My heart thundered in my chest as I bolted back to town. The gate at the nearest entrance was still open, but I didn't think that would remain the case for much longer.

  I glanced back again and had to slow my pace to get a better look.

  The dragon had landed. It was closer than the last time I had dared to glance behind me, but it was still far enough away that I wasn't in immediate danger. The Kurskins were unloading themselves from the back of the dragon. They were frighteningly small compared to the massive creature they had ridden upon. Its scales were the color of slate, and pale white spikes rose across its back in three rows, giving the Kurskins something to hold onto during flight.

  I had seen enough, and it was impossible to differentiate one Kurskin from another at this distance, so I picked up the pace and focused on making it to Danver.

  When I approached the gate, there was a flurry of motion in the gatehouse above. More and more guards appeared atop the wall by the second.

  I waved and yelled 'wait for me' as I sprinted to the gate. The guards saw me and urged me forward. Those last thirty yards were the hardest I'd ever run in my life.

  When I passed through the threshold, an order was shouted from above, and the two massive wooden doors slowly swung closed behind me.

  I fell to my knees and tried to catch my breath, but that was proving difficult as I was also experiencing a minor panic attack. What was I going to do now? They had a dragon. A fucking DRAGON! My memories of life on Erda included a few rare stories about dragons, but my friends and family were all farmers. They preferred to frighten me with tales of shamblemen and witches. I had never actually believed in those myths, and the idea that dragons could be real had always seemed impossible.

  It wasn't fair. Then again, nothing on Erda was fair for us humans.

  I needed to find Ersabet. That was my priority now. She'd know what to do. It wasn't a plan, but it was something, and it gave me enough motivation to get back on my feet.

  I sprinted the considerable distance to our inn expecting to hear the sounds of battle break out at any moment, but I heard nothing.

  Just as the inn came into view, a crashing roar rattled my brain from half a mile away. I turned to see, and my jaw dropped as a stream of fire billowed from the dragon's wide-open maw. It was flying above the gate, and when its blast of fire hit the wooden structure, it exploded into an inferno. The dragon turned its head as it breathed fire, torching a long section of wall. It would be cinders within minutes.

  I turned back around and saw Ersabet at the entrance to the inn. She held the door open from the inside, staring wide-eyed at the nearby destruction. She must have come down from her room when she heard the dragon's roar.

  "What did you do?" she asked as I approached.

  "Nothing!" I said, out of breath. "I didn't even know dragons existed."

  "Neither did I," she said quietly. "I knew it was possible based on how this world was designed, but I didn't know for sure. Players are told the same myths and legends that were fed to the NPCs, but we never know which are real and which are fiction. Discovering that ourselves is supposed to be part of the fun."

  "Well, this is a shitty discovery and decidedly not fun. What do we do, Bet?"

  She arched a hairless eyebrow, a sour expression on her face. "Did you just refer to me with a nickname?"

  I waved my arms. "It doesn't matter. We have bigger problems." I pointed toward the dragon, which was burning more of the wall. "That dragon didn't come here on its own. There are twenty Kurskins with it."

  Her face paled. "They will be powerful then. We must not engage."

  'I agree,' Val echoed.

  "We have to do something." I lowered my voice. "This is kind of our fault."

  "This is the result of your master plan," Ersabet said. "The fault is yours alone."

  It was harsh, but she was right. I had been treating people like pieces on a board game, moving them around to suit my own ambitions, not caring what happened to them as long as my goals were achieved. I had treated them like Val treated me – like an NPC.

  I had started an uprising, knowing that the Kurskins would likely retaliate, but I had severely underestimated them. My plan had been to share the truth, create chaos for the Kurskins, and then leave the people of Danver to fend for themselves. That had changed when I saw the people of Danver rise up. They fought with the same rage that I felt toward the Kurskins. It was like a part of them knew what had been taken from them, and that secret source had fueled their rage.

  Our victory had given me hope, and I let it trick me into believing that there was a path forward for them, even if I left.

  "It is my fault," I said sadly. "And I don't know how to fix it."

  "You can't," Ersabet said. "So, we must leave."

  Before I committed to abandoning the fight I had started, I checked in with Val. "Val, what should I do?"

  'You already know that answer,' she said. 'They are here for you. If you stay, you die. If you die, any hope of saving your world dies with you.'

  It was the answer I knew she would give. I had asked because it was what I wanted to hear. If both Val and Ersabet told me to go, then who was I to say no?

  Would my wife even recognize me now, or would she see the selfish coward I had become?

  "We run," I said. "But before we do, we'll need some supplies."

  Ersabet frowned. "The city is under attack. We don't have time to go shopping."

  "We're not going shopping. Follow me."

  After losing so many members, the door to the Hunter's Guild was no longer under guard, and we slipped in unnoticed.

  Technically, I wasn't allowed inside the building, but I had Ersabet with me, and all the surviving Hunters revered me, so I wasn't worried in the slightest.

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  We made our way to the kitchen, and I snagged a few bags of oats, which I promptly sent to my inventory. I grabbed some meat, a big wheel of cheese, and stole away some plates and cutlery. My eyes lit up when I found a cabinet full of seasonings. I felt bad about it, but I vanished most of it into my inventory. I reminded myself that this was a game, and if I wanted to win, I had to play it like other Players would. And so, my purloining spree continued at the cost of another small piece of my conscience.

  After raiding the kitchen, we went to the armory and picked out some new gear. This room was massive and held all the necessities a Hunter may need out in the wild. I took everything that looked useful.

  I found some leather straps and a needle and thread kit, which made this terrible day a little better. I had been wanting to modify my leather jerkin so that it could hold daggers.

  I already owned two exceptional daggers, but I took a few more from the Hunters' stockpile. I stuck one of them in my boot. It would have to do until I modified my gear. I also pocketed a shield, a sword, an axe, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows.

  Ersabet didn't take much, except for a few weapons, and urged me to hurry up.

  I snagged a few more items and paused when I saw a heavy, dark cloak on a stand in the back of the room. It looked ordinary at first, but when I walked closer, I could see it was exceptionally well-made. The outside was soft and almost velvety to the touch, and the inside of the cloak was lined with a thin but durable leather, offering additional protection against the elements and potential enemies.

  I inspected it.

  CLOAK OF THE FIRST HUNTER

  This cloak was crafted and worn by Nodrik Grim, the founder of the Order of the Hunters. It was passed down to his heirs for over two centuries until his bloodline finally ended with the death of his great-great-grandson.

  Wearing this cloak grants the MONSTER HUNTER passive ability, which allows your map to display the location of any mob classified as a 'monster' within one hundred yards. Additionally, this cloak is highly effective at protecting against attacks from teeth and claws.

  Lastly, when the hood of this cloak is pulled up over the wearer's head, any skills or abilities in the 'stealth' category are upgraded to the next Enhancement Tier.

  I immediately pulled it off its rack and put it on. It was a perfect fit.

  The description had sold me early, but the stealth upgrade was an incredible buff. I had always thought focusing on stealth would be my best chance at staying alive, but I couldn't always rely on subterfuge all the time, and my combat skills were far too lacking to ignore. I couldn't commit fully to stealth, but this cloak put me closer to where I wanted to be.

  "It looks good on you," Ersabet said.

  "Thanks." I smiled at her. "Do I look dangerous?"

  "You look sneaky. But then again, you've always looked sneaky to me."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Ersabet just shrugged. "Are we finished here? Time is running out."

  I nodded. "We need to find a way out of Danver. The west gate is out of the question, and there are only two others, but I have a feeling they'll be burning soon."

  "We will go to the wall," she said.

  "The wall? I don't know if I can climb that…"

  "Trust me, John. Now let's leave already."

  "Uh, okay," I said. I had no idea how we would get over it, but Ersabet hadn't let me down yet.

  The scent of woodsmoke was heavy in the air when we made our exit, and I dared a glance toward Danver proper. The fire had spread, and more had been set in other parts of the city. The fire, located furthest south, had a strange, green tint to it. It either meant chemicals were burning or those other Players had some crazy spells.

  'Get to the back of the building,' Val said quickly. 'Now.'

  I grabbed Ersabet by the arm and hustled her around the corner.

  'What's happening, Val?'

  'Three Players are heading this way,' Val said.

  'And you're just now telling me this?'

  'I wasn't sure of their path until I detected a Special NPC among them.'

  'Okay,' I said, confused by her logic. 'But how did detecting an NPC help you determine where they're going?'

  'Because the Special NPC is Tara.'

  I froze in place, a wash of cold fear prickling my spine. There was only one thing that could mean.

  'It's Prajio,' I said to Val. 'We have to save her.'

  'I cannot allow that.'

  'You're not in charge, Val. I am.'

  'Ethan, Prajio is streaming!'

  It took a moment for me to realize what Val meant. I had all but forgotten that this game was entertainment for all the Triarchy, not just those on Erda. Prajio was now part of the show, and there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he intended for me to be the main feature.

  "John, what is wrong?" Ersabet asked. "Why have you stopped?"

  I shook myself out of my stupor. "We have a problem. Follow me."

  I stayed low as I crept around the yard, making a wide berth of the building, using the thick shrubbery to keep hidden. When I had a good view of the front of the building, I pulled Ersabet down to hide behind cover.

  "What are we doing?" she asked, her eternal patience clearly at an end.

  "Waiting," I said. "There's something I have to see. Now be quiet."

  We didn't have to wait long for Prajio to come into view. Ersabet gasped when she recognized Tara, who was being roughly handled by one of Prajio's friends. She wasn't making it easy on them, but there was little she could do to escape the Kurskin's grip.

  'We have to do something,' I thought to Val.

  'Absolutely not,' Val hissed. 'If you show your face while he is livestreaming, then everyone outside the game will know who you are!'

  'They're out there, and I'm in here. Why should I care?'

  'You should care because the Voxals have access to every live feed leaving this planet. The only reason you are still alive is because they don't know who you are. If you show your face to them, your quest is over.'

  My heart sank. Val lied constantly, but I knew she wasn't lying this time. If I tried to intervene, I was as good as dead. If Prajio didn't see to it, the Voxals would.

  "John McClane!" Prajio shouted at the building. "We need to talk, my friend."

  When there was no response from the building, he carried on. "Your sister-in-law assured me that if you were anywhere, it would be here. The poor lass forced me to remove three fingernails before she was kind enough to start talking."

  I gritted my teeth. The bastard tortured her. I wanted to leap from my hiding spot and charge him, but I couldn't. I was trapped by my mission.

  Ersabet touched my shoulder. "We can take them together, John. It will be difficult, but it is possible."

  I shook my head sadly. "We can't."

  "It is not like you to cower while someone is in danger."

  Ersabet deserved the truth. "We can't fight because Prajio is streaming this to all your friends and family. If I show my face, I'm done."

  "How can you know this?"

  "I'm magic, okay?" I whispered. "It doesn't matter right now."

  Ersabet looked unhappy but nodded.

  "Let's hurry this up, John!" Prajio shouted. "I have a city to burn, so come on out, and I'll let the girl go."

  "Don't listen to him," Tara shouted before a scaly hand trapped her mouth shut.

  "I know what you are, John," Prajio yelled. "You aren't supposed to exist, so do the right thing and let me kill you."

  I wondered what my Hunters inside the building were thinking. Most would likely die before giving me up, but that didn't mean they weren't shitting themselves right now. There were so few left that they wouldn't stand a chance if they tried to fight on my behalf. It was best that they stayed hidden away where it was safe.

  "How about this?" Prajio screamed, his voice filled with rage. "If you don't answer me in ten seconds, I'm going to slit the girl's throat and let her bleed to death on your doorstep."

  Tara screamed as Prajio yanked her to him and held her tight.

  I wanted to close my eyes but couldn't bring myself to do it. Tara had believed in me, and I had failed her. She was going to die, and I wasn't going to do anything to stop it.

  Ersabet put her hand back on my shoulder. "We should go."

  "Not yet," I whispered.

  Prajio began to count down from ten.

  I winced as he yelled out each descending number.

  When he reached five, I nearly cried out and only barely managed to keep my composure.

  Three…

  This was just a trick. He wasn't actually going to kill her.

  Two…

  I held my breath.

  One…

  I watched as Prajio carelessly dragged his blade across Tara's delicate throat.

  Her blood spilled out of her, soaking her clothes as it poured down her neck. She put both hands to her throat and looked around for help, but all she saw were the faces of evil smiling back at her.

  Tara fell to her knees, hands still trying to prevent her life from spilling out. She collapsed onto her side and slowly rolled to her back, casting her final gaze toward the sky as her blood pooled beneath her.