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Chapter 11
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“…But then again, if I didn’t show up as the corpse,” The AI spoke again, looking over the empty room, “he might believe I was a fabrication. Not actually based on the- I mean I AM him! So I’d have to show up as me in order to prove I’m me to him and then he would see me as me when we meet, and then I-”
“You okay?” AI looked over at Racie, who was holding her head in her hands and groaning softly. “People don’t usually do that when they’re okay.”
“People don’t usually HAVE TO LISTEN TO SOMEONE TALK ABOUT HOW DEAD THEY ARE EITHER, HUH?” Racie bellowed, turning away viciously and staring into the couch. She gave the slightest of snorts. “Winger…”
Looking back up, she was somewhat relieved to see AI had switched off the corpse imagery and was staring at her in apprehensive shock. “I guess I… I’m sorry. I’ve been-” She cleared her throat. “I’ve died recently, too.”
“How long ago?” AI asked. “And how did you… Y’know… Live?”
Racie sighed, then slowly and painfully forced herself to stand back up. “You got any way to move there, AI? It’s awfully dull just sitting around waiting to come back.”
“I uh, hang on.” The hologram disappeared for a moment, and a small sphere floated into the room, a spherical silver device with a round cutout portion housing a lens. It flickered for a moment, and then projected the holographic image of the reconstructed physical form of AI. “I hear that hole’s pretty deep, y’know.”
“No deeper than your personality.” Racie grunted, staggering forward into the darkness as AI took a few second to fully discern her retort. The hole in question was obviously very deep, pitch-black, and bore no trace of the rest of her party, with only the faintest of echoing sounds coming from inside.
“How powerful is the anti-gravity thingy on that projector ball, AI?” Racie sighed, cracking the slightest of smiles as she glanced wearily at the inexplicable piece of technology which hovered beside her.
“Uh, nothing? I mean, what was your question?” AI tried very badly to hide how he wasn’t really listening, too busy trying to think of a counter-retort to her retort. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the floating ball before he could protest. “Look, I don’t think that’s really relevant to what’s going ooOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
Down the hole they fell, almost impossibly fast, with AI trying his hardest to pump the brakes and slow their descent. As the inevitable feeling of an impact approached, the metal ball squealed and shivered, overclocking its system as it pushed back against gravity. Racie shut her eyes and prepared for the impact, jolting when the soft tap of her foot against the floor revealed the little sphere had succeeded. She let go, the silver ball rocketing into the ceiling and buzzing for a moment after the collision.
“Do you have any idea how STUPID that was?!” AI growled, initially flying the sphere in close proximity to Racie’s face and then projecting himself instead. “I don’t- can’t die again, but you can I think! So why did you do that? We can’t exactly go back up now!”
“Doesn’t matter.” Racie grunted, pushing forward into the darkness undeterred by AI’s protests. The faintest of lights could be seen further down the darkened tunnel, and it clearly held Racie’s attention. “Tell me, you ever feel like a footnote?”
“What.” AI’s attitude flatlined. “I’ve, uh, never felt very much like a book before, if that’s what you mean-”
“An addition. Just something little and insignificant tacked on the end of someone else’s story.” She gripped her side gingerly as she trudged on. “That’s how I’ve felt most of my life. Like everything I do is just some additional thing that isn’t even noticed by the real focus, which is always someone else. No matter how much I learn, or how much I do, it’s never going to be enough to set me as anything other than a small detail.”
“Uh.” AI clearly didn’t know how to react, as both the thought process and the conversation were in avenues he wasn’t remotely sure of. “I mean, I don’t even remember what my name used to be, or even if I had one. So I guess I wouldn’t mind being a small detail for someone else, even if I had to do a lot to get it. It’s the doing that makes it worth it, you know?”
“Sorry.” He gripped his holographic arm and looked away despondently. “That’s probably not the answer you were looking for.”
Racie’s small grunts of exertion were the only reply. The light at the end grew brighter and brighter as the muffled sounds of shouting slowly made themselves discernible. “Well you may be content with your position, mister nobody, but I’VE had to put up with being completely useless and forgotten my entire life, and after being so forgettable I wasn’t even missed after I actually DIED - well, I’ve made up my mind.”
Racie poked her head around the corner and wrinkled her nose at the sight - about ten different Dreamers holding the party members hostage, with a jar of very dim sparks nestled inside suspended from the ceiling by ruined steel cables. Another hologram was present, dancing about in the middle of the room, with a blue top hat and cane twirled about on occasion.
“She’s not going to come.” Winger breathed, earning him a sharp kick in the stomach from one of the Dreamers. The little holographic figure danced even more erratically after that, no audible sound being produced aside from the scraping of Winger’s helmet against the floor as he writhed from the pain.
“Say, it’s been a minute.” The hologram spoke, floating down towards Gofers and glaring into his glowing, frightened sockets. “Where is she, huh? You told me there was another person here, that she’d been part of your group for a while, but she didn’t come?”
“I-I-I-I don’t kn-kn-know anyb-b-body other than th-th-th-th-th-th-th-th-th-” He eloquently relayed, but was unfortunately cut off by the Dreamers tossing him on the ground in front of Winger. “Gaah! Why do you silly little creatures have to be so annoying all the time?! I don’t think I have the patience to wait for a fourth person to show up here. Is this thing still cold?”
The suspended jar was inspected. “Good. I knew he wouldn’t do too well in sub-zero temperatures. Hopefully he’ll be alive just long enough for me to get him into the reactor, and he’ll be fuel enough for a looong time. But why am I telling you?”
Winger had stopped his scraping and was whispering something to Gofers. “Hey! No conversing among the ritualistic sacrifice offerings!” The Dreamers dragged them away, but not before Gofers had taken a nibble out of the ground Winger had scratched his helmet on. With a guttural screech, green flames seeped over the body of the Maestro de Gofres, as the trashbag poncho fluttered from the force of the fire. Furiously he flew at the nearest Dreamer, the flames in his body coalescing into his pinkies as he flexed them and swept them across the Dreamer’s neck, decapitating it.
“You fight with your pinkies.” Winger groaned painfully.
“It’s a trademark!!” Gofers replied as he swung them into the knees of another Dreamer while two others grappled him from behind. “Plus, I don’t know how I could accomplish my sick wrestling moves if I didn’t!”
“When I asked you to 'do moves and kill Dreamers’ I thought I was implying actually cool and real moves, not watever the heck that is.” Winger clutched his stomach as the Dreamers guarding him let him go in order to dogpile Gofers, who was spinning in place and carving through every Dreamer close to him by extending his pinkies in opposite directions.
“They ARE real!!” Gofers frowned, clearly offended. “I can’t believe you’re one of those ‘street fighting is fake’ people. Guys like me have a real code of conduct to stick to!”
Cordax was freed last, and he dropped limply to the ground with no response. “That’s not just an affront to me, but to every fighting legend that’s ever been.” Gofers jutted his chin upwards indignantly as he dove his pinkies in and outward from the rounded skull of the last Dreamer. “I demand you apologize before I get angry with you.”
The lights in the massive underground chamber began to dim as the holographic figure laughed and clapped his non-corporeal hands. “Well done, gents, well done! However I think you’ll soon realize that was only part one of my defenses, and part two comes from one of my more ambitious projects out there!” A large hatch opened in the wall, and two piercing lights shone briefly.
“Ever since I learned of Dreamers, I’ve been making as many as I can.” He grinned, the light of his orange Pakari like a spotlight as it traveled the floor. “To that end, I tried to make something capable of beating Dreamers into the dust if anyone ever tried to use them against me. My first one was particularly vile, but he didn’t work out.”
The Maestroo de Gofres could barely hold back the two massive jaws that attempted to crush him. It was fish-like in nature, covered in gunk, with a noticeable underbite framed in a permanent scowl, its cobalt skin reflecting what light there was while its teeth, massive and hooked like an angler fish, threatened to crush Winger’s Dreamer inside. “This time, however, I think I’ve fin-ally found a way to break them for good.”
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