Forged Legacy

Harvey awoke to his alarm beeping right beside his ear. Old habits begged him to slap the snooze button and go back to sleep, but he swung his legs over the side of the bed anyway.

[When do you think the last time you woke up at 3 AM was?]

Probably college? I’m sure I had an early flight to catch at some point.

[Most of the memories I’m seeing have you finally dragging yourself to bed right about now after gaming all night.]

Well, don’t tell my mom.

Harvey was careful not to wake anyone else up as he slipped on his under-armor clothes and brushed his teeth. He had plenty of food hot and ready inside his storage ring, so he didn’t have to worry about making breakfast. Standing on his front lawn, he admired the perpetual daybreak and glistening coat of morning dew covering the grass while he stretched.

I think I’m finally getting used to it never getting dark around here.

[Really? I hate it. There’s no way it’s good for you.]

People in Alaska go months without the sun setting during the summer.

[Yeah, but most of them need a cabinet full of vitamins just to stay sane.]

Putting on his armor wasn’t easy without someone to help with the hard-to-reach buckles, but his new sound-dampening enchantments made fumbling around with it much more bearable. He’d debated whether he should wear it at all during his escape attempt or wait to strap it on once he was out on the battlefield, but in the end he decided it was better to wear it now just in case a sniper took a shot at him. Explaining why he was roaming around in full plate armor would be harder if an angel caught him strolling through the neighborhoods, but he’d rather look suspicious than die unprepared.

Making his way to an empty basketball court inside one of the neighborhoods closest to the wall, he did one final sweep to make sure there wasn’t anyone watching him. He hadn’t seen anybody out and about, and some quick scans with his aura only found weak humans lying asleep in their beds.

You ready? How high do I need to fly to stay out of range of the angels' aura sensors?

[I doubt there’s many with more Willpower than you, but I’d still shoot for around 50% farther than your own aura.]

Harvey nodded, taking a deep breath as he clenched his muscles tight and flooded essence into Booster. He’d picked the basketball court as his launchpad since the blacktop should hide the quick blast of Forgefire scorching against it better than anywhere else. Normally, he didn’t really care about the aftermath of his movement skill, but he didn’t want to leave any clues for Brutus to find. Shooting up into the sky, Harvey flew until his aura couldn’t feel the sleeping Faithful below. Finding the drain of his most essence-hungry skill lessened by his newly evolved weave, he soared even higher before angling his way towards the battlefield. He anxiously waited for the sound of a bullet whizzing past him, but it never came. Instead, he got to enjoy a bird's-eye view of the trial ground below. It was surprisingly beautiful when you ignored all the death and destruction that came with it.

Sadly, death and destruction were both facts of life now. He picked out a spot close to Hell’s wall of flesh where a house had only partially collapsed. Releasing jets of flame from his hands to stabilize his descent, he alighted on the cracked concrete driveway and took cover. Again, he waited for the sound of gunshots or a squad of demons coming to investigate, but nothing happened. He finally let himself exhale after 20 minutes, standing up and looking for a place to hide until the fighting started.

Really? How bad are the scouts if neither side saw me? Booster isn’t exactly subtle.

[Don’t complain about an easy win. Besides, I think getting back in will be a lot harder than getting out.]

Guessing his friend was right, he got to work finding a spot with long sight lines where he could build himself a mound of debris to hide under. With the battlefield spanning miles, there wasn’t anywhere that wouldn’t see any foot traffic, so he needed a place that was unlikely to get trampled. If a monster did stumble upon his abode, he was sure he could fight his way out. The only problem then would be explaining why he was there since his lack of wings made it painfully clear he wasn’t one of Heaven’s soldiers. Luckily, there were many piles of destroyed homes to choose from, and it didn’t take long to carve out a space where he could lie down with enough room to maneuver his new sniper.

Extinction had been sitting in his spatial ring for days now, and he couldn’t wait to test it out with his new Angelbane and Desolation bullets. All of his simulations said the built-in silencer should be enough to make it hard for any angels or demons to pick him out from the crowd during the chaos of battle, but a simulation wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying as a test fire. Carefully pulling back the bolt-action, he admired how smoothly the aethersteel parts glided past each other. Conjuring one of his uninscribed rounds into the chamber with Echo Forge, he began channeling essence into the arrays on his scope.

Being able to change the zoom with a thought made him feel like he was in a video game, and he barely managed to stifle a giggle as he zeroed in on a crumbling chimney that was 300 yards away. The bricks were swaying back and forth as he fought to stabilize his breathing. Superhuman Dexterity helped make up for some of his lacking training, but it didn’t instantly turn him into an elite sniper. Holding as steady as he could, Harvey carefully compressed the trigger until a pop accompanied the gun slamming into his shoulder.

“Holy!” he swore, worried the sudden movement might make the precariously stacked rubble hovering just over his back collapse on him.

[Chill out, dude.]

Looking back into the scope, he found the chimney still standing tall.

I missed.

[Not surprised. You jumped like you’ve never shot a gun before.]

I was focused. Being off one degree at this distance is the difference between headshotting a demon and hitting an angel.

[I wouldn’t go that far. You’ve shot these exact same bullets out of a handgun for the past two weeks. Don’t be afraid of the recoil. Just take your time, breathe normally, and give yourself a surprise break. At least the silencer works well enough for you to get some practice in.]

Julius was right. The silencer wasn’t like the ones in the James Bond movies where you could hide a gunshot from someone standing right behind you, but nobody outside the surrounding neighborhood should have heard the crack. In the heat of battle, his shots would get lost in the crowd, making it hard for any of the more intelligent infernal beasts to figure out where the sounds were coming from.

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Sliding back the bolt, he was relieved to see the spent shell pop right out, letting him conjure a new bullet in its place. Harvey spent the next hour practicing, shooting one brick off the top of the chimney at a time. Shards of clay exploded out like grenade shrapnel whenever the silver bullets so much as grazed the bricks, and he only stopped when the chimney finally fell over.

Someone had to have heard that, right?

[I’ll bet you 20 bucks nobody comes to check it out.]

What do you need money for?

[Good point. How about you have to wear fake eyelashes for a day? John probably sells them.]

No way I’m taking that bet.

Harvey was glad he didn’t, since 20 minutes of watching the ground around the fallen chimney yielded nothing. Either Hell was getting lazy, or they just didn’t have the bodies to scout such a massive area without making half of their army fight sleep-deprived during the real battles. Not wanting to waste any more essence conjuring bullets, Harvey spent the next 9 agonizingly long hours waiting for the two hordes of beasts to gather outside the walls. Boredom had helped ease the tension of his first covert-op, but it all came roaring back as giants, lions, and rams charged towards the wall of mortarhorns and minotaurs guarding Hell’s wall of flesh. He could feel the rumble of hoofbeats like an earthquake through the ground, and worried his hiding spot might collapse before he took a single shot.

Taking aim at the closest Helltaur through his scope, Julius stopped him. [You have to wait until the armies meet. People might get suspicious if demons start falling out of the blue.]

It took every ounce of patience Harvey had, but he managed to hold himself back. The odds of hitting his intended target went down drastically when they were engaged in close-quarters combat with one of Heaven’s creatures, but he could stomach some friendly fire as long as he didn’t hit any angels. From the look of things, they were fine letting the beasts do all the work, so he shouldn’t have to worry about that anyway. Holding his breath as the flood of monsters passed by his hiding spot, the day’s battle finally began.

“3,2,1,” Pop!

The flash of exploding Hellpowder was perfectly contained by the silencer, letting him watch the bullet fly unobstructed before a burst of golden flame erupted from a Helltaur’s chest. As much as he wanted to test his new Desolation bullets, using Heaven’s Wrath made his attacks blend in with the others much better. The single round wasn’t enough to kill the minotaur outright, but he knew the System would at least give him partial credit when the beast finally went down.

Reloading, Harvey silently counted himself down again before firing at a mortarhorn, missing its head but grazing its flank. Streams of black blood were cauterized by the heavenly flames erupting from his arrays. The goat tumbled out of view before a kill notification appeared in his mind. It was strange, killing something that had never seen it coming. Harvey remembered reading stories about how drone pilots in the military back home struggled with the fact that they were never really in danger while they mowed down one enemy after another. Things were different for Harvey since he was still very much in danger, but he got his first glimpse of what war could become for him as the weapons he forged got better and better. That mortarhorn couldn’t hit him at this distance if it tried, and he’d killed it with a single bullet.

[Save the ethics debate for later. Heaven’s killing them too fast.]

Moving back into his scope, he couldn’t help but agree. A second kill notification from someone else finishing off his Helltaur already came through, and dozens more were falling every second. The benefits of an extra lieutenant’s worth of genesis matter were showing their worth, and it would take him weeks to level up his Class to 75 if he only managed to kill a handful of demons every day.

Harvey shot as fast as he could, not caring when his bullets occasionally went wide and hit a Nephilim or a Floodtusk. The demons themselves had already joined the battle, fighting desperately to stop Heaven’s advance past the wall of dead gluthogs.

[We have to help them out.]

What?

[The demons are dying too fast. This war might be over by the end of the week if we don’t slow Heaven down.]

Are you saying we should turn on Heaven?

[I’m saying we should slow them down. Those divine beasts aren’t really alive. They weren’t born, they were molded from raw genesis matter a few hours ago. Cash already said they don’t have souls.]

And that’s a good enough reason to shoot them in the back?

[No. But I think making sure you’re strong enough to stand up to Brutus once he’s evolved to E-Grade is. You can’t make it to level 75 by the end of the week.]

Hesitating, Harvey released his grip on the trigger and pulled back from the scope. Killing a few accidentally felt acceptable given the circumstances, but…

I can’t believe I think that, he thought.

The fact that his subconscious was so comfortable with killing shocked him. It had become a necessity over the past few months, but this was the first time it had felt like a choice. Gamifying taking a life by turning it into experience points and a kill notification had violated a barrier that had existed in the deepest recesses of his mind, turning it into something exciting rather than something terrible.

[We don’t have time,] Julius urged.

Growling, Harvey tucked the gun in close and took aim at one of the Nephilim on the verge of succumbing to a horde of brimfiends pelting it with fist-sized fireballs. He figured ending its suffering might be a mercy since it was surely going to die anyway, but that justification soon rang hollow when he couldn’t find any more of Heaven’s beasts waiting at death's door. Having already killed a handful, turning his barrel on the rest became a lot easier. He chambered one Angelbane round after another, using the infernal arrays inscribed on the black metal rounds to fill the heads of heavenly beasts with abyssal fire.

In the end, he was just one man, and Heaven would have no problem winning this battle no matter how many beasts he managed to kill. Even with the range Extinction’s powerful scope and arrays afforded him, he could only reach a tiny fraction of the battlefield. So, he fired as fast as he could reload, only stopping when the demons were mopping up the few remaining war eagles. He did chamber a Desolation round and shoot it into the chest of one of the demons in hopes that watching the murky yellow flames of his Prophet’s Suffering and Starving Swarm inks merge to consume the man’s Vitality and essence might absolve him of his sins. The bullet worked exactly as advertised, crippling the warrior from within as he found his essence and lifeforce withering away at speeds visible to the naked eye.

With both armies decimated, the angels surveying the battlefield returned to the silver gates, not in any hurry to press their advantage. Why would they when Hell’s demon population was being whittled away without a single white feather getting stained? Despite the rage on every face Harvey watched through his scope, the demons also retreated back behind the safety of their walls where they could nurse their wounds until tomorrow’s battle comes.

Returning his rifle to his spatial ring, Harvey’s hands began to shake. Clasping them together beneath his chest, he focused on his breathing. The searing ecstasy of leveling up soon washed over him, but instead of elation, it made him feel dirty.

Your class, Forgefire Arsenalist, has reached Level 63. +4 Vitality, +4 Endurance, +16 Wisdom, +6 Willpower, +6 Free Points

Your class, Forgefire Arsenalist, has reached Level 64. +4 Vitality, +4 Endurance, +16 Wisdom, +6 Willpower, +6 Free Points

Your Race, Gilded, has reached Level 64. +5 Vitality, +5 Endurance, +2 Wisdom, +2 Strength, +2 Dexterity, +3 Willpower

His essence reserves were running low after conjuring so many powerful bullets, so he waited another hour before using Booster to blast himself back over the wall. He flew as high as he could before aiming for a neighborhood that was significantly deeper inside Heaven than his own. Landing outside his own house would make it painfully obvious who he was if anyone was tracking his movements, but he doubted anyone would question him if he walked back home in his street clothes. Scanning the homes with his aura, he found an empty one and landed on the roof. Balancing on the shingles while stripping out of his armor wasn’t easy, but he managed to get it all back in his spatial ring before sliding down and lowering himself onto the driveway.

I didn’t enjoy that.

[I know. I’d honestly be a little worried if you did. Doesn’t change the fact it’s what we have to do.]

Are you sure? Is it really such a big problem if we’re not ready to evolve by the time the war is over?

[Yes.]