Project Seraphina [LitRPG, Magitech, GL]

“Sera, can you help me with this zipper?” Chloe asks from the bathroom. “It seems to be stuck and I don’t want to tear this dress right after buying it.”

Do I for a moment think that Chloe strictly needs my help? Absolutely not. Chloe has always been stronger and more capable than she lets on, and probably more so than she knows herself. Never has this been more true than in the past eight or so hours, ever since she woke up following reaching Level 64 and completing her second ascension. In all honesty, I think this is just a ruse to get me to check her out while she’s half-naked, and I’m not so much of a fool that I’ll ever pass up such an opportunity.

“Be right there,” I say as I float out of the bathroom and over to the nearly-adjacent bathroom. The door is cracked open, giving me a glimpse of my gorgeous girlfriend as I slip my way inside and plant a kiss on the top of her head.

“Zipper first,” she says.

Always such a pain in the ass to deal with putting on dresses. Yes, it looks better to have these zippers and buttons and ribbons in the back, but this isn’t the 19th century! We should not be assuming, as a matter of fact, that every woman— even every woman of means— has someone to aid them in clothing herself! Even if Chloe and I actually do.

I zip her up, but then take a moment to rub my hands along her sides and then to the newly formed lines of definition between her biceps and triceps. I don’t recall much in the way of physical changes for either of my first two ascensions. Definitely a noticeable increase in my stats and my abilities, along with new Skills. But my body hardly changed.

Chloe, on the other hand, seems to have gone through months of intense weight training in a matter of hours. Most of it isn’t noticeable when she’s dressed, but her arms have gotten toned as all hell, and her eyes and face both look a little sharper as well. I’m definitely biased and not going to pretend I’m not, but overall, her figure has gone from incredible to utterly irresistible. Definitely not able to resist planting a quick kiss on her lips.

“You know you should get ready also, love. You’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight otherwise.”

Did I believe she’d follow through on her threat? No. Did I want to embarrass myself at Alexey’s funeral this afternoon? Also no.

Thankfully, my dress is easier to put on than hers, with the exception of trying to weave my left arm through the sleeve hole without tearing or otherwise damaging the surprisingly delicate fabrics. Again, I could use some sort of [Repair] glyph to stitch it back together. But it wouldn’t look quite as good, and Chloe would probably tease me about it for the rest of the year, so, slow and steady it is.

Hairstyling and makeup is next. I normally prefer to be all natural, but it’s a special occasion. And so, much as I felt like my skin is being suffocated from the foundation and concealer, I allow Chloe to do mine without complaint.

Now that we’re fully ready, we make our way downstairs. After the events of yesterday, Alicia— Mom, in deed though without any formal adoption papers— decided to take the day off as well.

She steps toward us, tears in her eyes, and pulls both of us into a group hug.

“I know that what you two do is dangerous, and– I wish it could be me out there instead of you.” Her grip on us is snug from her perspective, but with Chloe’s and my strength being what it is, it feels so soft and gentle. “It’s not the path I would have chosen for you, even if–”

“Even if?” Chloe asks.

“It’s nothing.” She hesitates for a moment. “I’m sorry, Chloe; please don’t worry about it.” Alicia strokes Chloe’s cheek. “I just want you both to know how proud I am of you. Sera, Chloe, both of you. The world might be going straight to shit, but despite everything. Maybe because of everything, you’ve both grown into fine young women.”

“Thank you, Mom,” we both say.

“I know I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again as many times as I can. This is your home, and no matter what might happen in the future, you will always be welcome here.”

“Thanks,” Chloe says. “I– I think we need to go before my tears start ruining my makeup.”

“Alright, you two. I don’t know how late you’ll be out, but I’ll get some dinner ready for when you get back.”

I wrap my arms around Chloe and together we make our way outside and from then back to base.

The mood is appropriately somber as we touch down just outside the base and make our way through security. It’s really just a formality at this point— if Chloe and I wanted to, we could barge our way through and no one would be able to stop us. Not to mention that anyone over level 50 can store more or less whatever they wanted in their [Inventory] and no one would be any the wiser. Still, we oblige, out of respect.

Most of the gathered people are military or ex-military, some returning to semi-active duty with the advent of the System, some too old or too infirm or too broken from PTSD to do so. As a result, while the two of us are wearing black, we’re the exception rather than the rule. Formal military uniforms for both men and women dominate the fields, various insignia of rank and honor dotting the jackets of all but the newest of recruits.

We make our way into the mess hall, which has been repurposed and rearranged to serve as a reception and waiting area before the main ceremony begins. There, what’s left of Alexey’s body lies within a closed casket draped over by the American flag, guarded by an honor regiment of six soldiers. I didn’t see what his mangled body looked like firsthand, but Chloe did, and from what she describes, I’m glad no one else has to see such a horrific scene.

“Seraphina, Chloe,” another familiar voice chimes out, one I again did not expect to hear from again.

“Lindsey?” Chloe asks. “Is that you?”

Sure enough it is the former Army Ranger, now working as a private mercenary and contractor-for-hire. Like most of the people here, she’s in her military dress, her dark brunette hair tied back into a single taut bun resting upon the back of her head.

“Good to see you both alive and well,” she says.

“Same,” I say. “Though, I’m surprised that Stefan isn’t here with you.” I refer to her partner, whom she met when the three of us were on an excursion to Red Clay City to the southwest. Chloe and I came back home after our business there was done, but she stayed behind with her new partner to help keep their adventuring and mercenary guild running.

“He would have been, except after the demon attack here yesterday, he didn’t feel comfortable with us both being away from the city for any length of time.”

“Understandable,” Chloe says.

Lindsey’s eyes turn down. “I’m going to go pay my personal respects before the ceremony starts in earnest.”

The three of us separate, Chloe and I heading outside to the actual burial site while Lindsey approaches Alexey’s casket. We don’t get more than a step or two outside the mess hall before we are approached by the executive officer himself. I still don’t get along too well with him personally despite having worked together amicably on several occasions, but on such a solemn occasion, I can only nod and acknowledge him with more respect due the occasion rather than the man.

“Seraphina,” Nicholas says. “If I may make a request of you. It is traditional in military funerals to have a three-volley salute be given as a soldier’s remains are buried. I know you have eschewed your rifle arm in recent days for your new spear, but if I could ask you to please serve as one of the five giving the honor this afternoon. I think he would have wanted that.”

I nod in agreement.

Alexey’s casket is carried by the honor guard across the base to its final resting place, a burial ground just outside of the base’s walls. If times were different, if the political situation were more stable and he’d probably have been flown either to Arlington or another military cemetery to be interred. As it stands, a local burial on-site was judged to be the most honorable way to perform his final honors.

I gaze at Chloe, who is sitting with Lindsey in the crowd while I stand at attention with the rest of the honor regiment. I can’t help but feel a little undressed, being in a jet black, quarter-sleeve, full-length dress, surrounded by two men I’ve never interacted with before on either side of me. But I stand resolutely; I belong here, I was invited here, and I will serve in the role requested of me with the honor Alexey deserves.

Nicholas is the first to speak. Again it’s rare to see him display any outward emotion, but even his eyes are not completely dry as he approaches the podium. Murmuring in the crowd comes to a screeching halt as he does.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to honor and remember Sergeant Major Ivankov and his final act of bravery. Each of us gathered here today has, either through oath or deed, pledged himself or herself to the defense of our nation.”

Our nation. A nation now wholly in tatters, and one I never felt a part of even before the System arrived, let alone now that the Legion had taken over D.C. and was now using it as its own base of operations. Would the concept of nationalities and states even hold merit in another half a year? I find myself unconvinced by the idea.

“Each of us knows that when we put on this uniform and swear our oaths, that we may be called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice while in the line of duty. Yesterday afternoon, Sergeant Major Ivankov went above and beyond, doing so even while already injured and declared unfit for combat.

“In ordinary times, such actions would be derided as reckless, a dereliction of duty, and disobedience against the orders of a superior officer. Actions warranting court-martial, not commendation. But no longer do we have the luxury of living in ordinary times. Not anymore. Not while literal demons of fire and brimstone ransack our cities, wielding power that dwarfs even the might of the nuclear weapons of old.

“Sergeant Major Ivankov recognized this fact. He recognized that no longer can we abide by the traditions and philosophies of the old order. Modularity, interdependence, regimented discipline and uniformity, compartmentalization and confidentiality, enforced by a rigid chain of command in the service of objectives both small and grand. These traits, and all your efforts, made our army the greatest combat force the world had ever known.

“But times have changed, and we must adapt. Alexey knew that there were things that he could do that only he could do, that no one else was capable of. And when the time came for him to do that duty that no one else could, he did so without regrets. None of us would be here today if not for his final sacrifice, and for that, we owe him our thanks and our lives. Let us take a moment of silence to remember him, and honor his memory.”

The ceremony goes silent. Even the chatterings of nature seem to cease for a brief moment of pause and remembrance. Nicholas stands aside, though not before slipping me a sealed envelope which I discreetly store away.

No surviving kin of his are in attendance; from what I know of the man, he likely doesn’t have any surviving relatives on Earth. After another pause for their sake as well, a chaplain in traditional white religious garb steps up, speaking on matters spiritual and religious to which I pay little attention, but stand respectfully for nonetheless.

Finally, we all salute as the funeral casket is lowered into its final resting place. Chloe, I, and the handful of other civilians do so with our hands over our hearts, while the military staff gathered, both active and retired, do so in the traditional military fashion. A bugler plays a solemn dirge to commemorate the fallen, and all stand solemnly, not even my eyes dry as I pay my final respects to a man who did briefly mentor me, though for not nearly long enough.

As the four riflers on both sides of me ready their guns, I start channeling [Ether] into my left arm once more. It feels odd, nostalgic in a way, having not used my barrel arm in this manner in several weeks. The glyphs buried within seem almost happy to be activated again, the sluices eagerly channeling my energy and preparing a stream of three bullets to launch.

The first shot echoes out. Then the second. For the third and final shot, I Manifest a few other glyphs into the formation, modifying the baseline ability to something a bit more colorful. [Lightning] and [Reflection] combine together, applying their effects according to my will as I raise my arm into the sky above.

One last shot barrels forth from my arm, just the same as the first two until it reaches its apex five hundred feet above. Then the new formation activates on command, streaking lightning of a rainbow of colors across the sky in something reminiscent of a firework display. I could think of no better way to honor a man who gave everything. A man whose sacrifice might well have saved not just a city of a million, but a universe with so many more lives than I could possibly count even in a million lifetimes.