Genesis: Getting Stronger From Playing Games

Chapter 5: Arzia

After the summoning was complete and the two of them stood in the silence, Brian could not look at Arzia in the eye. She was too perfect and too powerful, and that imbalance was apparently making her presence grossly… improper.

"Look," he said after a while, "I don't know what you want from me." "This whole 'master' thing? You don't have to call me that. Just call me Brian, alright?"

He was looking right into her eyes; she took a few seconds before replying to him, and her face betrayed no emotion whatsoever. "As you wish… Brian."

He nodded, he felt a strange relief. "Good. And uh… we'll work this out as we go, right? I'm sure you're strong and will be a huge help. And I need to know you have more to count on than just your fighting."

Arzia inclined her head. "Understood."

He turned back to the game's interface and glanced at her one last time. His mind worked itself into knots of doubts, he could still only be certain of one thing: it wasn't the ally he'd thought he'd find.

But she might be the one he needed.

---

The dim glow of his monitor betrayed a slumped Brian sitting at his desk chair. The only sound in the room was the faint hum of his computer, but his eyes were on the screen. He could still feel that Genesis Quest notification in his head; its reminder that the lines between Earth and the game had grown dreadfully, irrevocably blurred.

There was a sudden flicker of light at the corner of his vision. His heart skipped a beat as he straightened. In the middle of the room, a faint, shimmering figure began to materialize. His breath caught in his throat, / Brian froze, as the light started to grow brighter, becoming a human form.

It was a familiar voice, but you couldn't hear it in its softness, and you could feel the weight of it as it called for you.

The figures in full armor had grown dim, an Arzia rising to the forefront. Moonlight shone of silver in her hair, and her piercing blue eyes stared right at him. She appeared other worldly, standing tall.

Brian got to his feet, almost tripping over a chair. "Arzia? What the hell is this? He gestured wildly, his voice rising with panic, You're— "You're not supposed to be here!" "This… this has to be a hallucination. Was I overdoing it on the energy drinks?"

Arzia tipped her head and her lips curled in a faint smile. "No, Brian. I'm as real as you are now." Her armored fingers brushed against the edge of his desk, and she raised her hand. In the quiet room, the faint clang of metal hitting wood echoed.

He looked at her in disbelief, rubbing at his eyes, trying to banish her impossible sight. "This… this doesn't make any sense. You're just data. You're part of the game!"

Straightening out her arms across her chest, she kept her expression calm, but firm. "I was. But not anymore."

"How can you say that, not anymore?" His voice rose in demand. Cautiously, he circled her, inspecting every detail. The armor on her, if shone, would gleam within seconds, and yet her movements were far too precise to be just a trick of your mind. "Right? This has to be part of the Genesis Quest? It was some kind of weird extension into real life?"

Arzia shook her head. "This is not Genesis Quest." "Through their magic this was possible."

Brian froze, his mind racing. "Lyta? So what does Lyta have to do with this?"

Arzia's gaze softened. "I was able to manifest here courtesy of Lyta's magic. I'm a homunculus, Brian. A construct that exists in both worlds. They're all intact." My in game stats and abilities… Her voice dropped to a near whisper as she stepped closer. "I'm here to help you. It is to bridge the gap between the virtual and the real."

Brian's mind reeled. Running a hand through his hair, he stumbled back. He muttered to himself, 'This is insane.' He looked at her, standing solid and immovable in his room, but a thought started to form.

"You mean… you're the same here as you were there in the game, right?" he asked cautiously.

Arzia nodded. "Eighth-circle mage. One of the strongest."

A small, incredulous smile formed on Brian's lips. "An eighth circle mage… in the real world." The absurdity crept in there slowly, and he let out a low chuckle, the excitement of it all starting to flicker. "Alright, Arzia. If this is real, then maybe… just perhaps… we can use this."

Arzia arched a brow. "Use this? For what?"

Brian's eyes were watching for the mixture of determination and mischief. "To change the game. Both of them."

---

The stifling air hung like a cloud of rotting mariner's socks of fog across the Bladeheart Manor. Mostly silent were the grand halls, just the shifting of Asetie's heels against the marble of the floors. Worshiped, among the slits of light, she moved, like a predator, her every step, the grace of her every step and gesture, was calculated.

There was something thick and aged parchment and ink heavy in the air in the Viscount's study. Viscount Bladeheart glanced up from reports from the frontline over his gigantic oak desk. Without knocking, Asetie entered.

Sweet but viciously venomous, she started, "Dear husband." "There was something I had in mind that, I believe you will find… most beneficial."

His weary eyes narrowed as he glanced up. "What is it, Asetie? Tonight, I have no patience for games."

The kind of smile that masked daggers, Asetie smiled. "It's about Brian."

The Viscount's face grew hard at his son's mention. "What about him?"

Her hands rested lightly on the edge of the desk, and she leaned against it. Conditions at the frontline are growing more dire. "The men need a symbol of hope—their leader. …someone young, capable… someone with your name."

The Viscount's jaw tightened. "You want to send Brian to war."

Asetie's smile didn't waver. "It's a chance for him to show what he can do. He so desperately clings to the shadow of mediocrity, to step out of it. Isn't that what you want him to be, a man worthy of the Bladeheart name?"

His dark and unreadable gaze said nothing.

Her voice began to drop to a whisper, and Asetie pushed forward. "Or perhaps… you're afraid. Afraid that he'll fail. He's afraid he'll tarnish your legacy even further."

The sound of a Viscount's fist smacking against his desk rang through the room. "Enough!" He stood, towering over her. Never will Asetie manipulate me.

But she didn't flinch. Turning, she moved in closer, her voice a soft insidiousness. "This isn't manipulation, my dear. It's reality. This is what Brian requires, and you need this too. You send him to the front lines, and you'll discover the truth about his worth."

His hands gripped the edge of the desk, and the Viscount turned away. Her words weighed down his shoulders. Finally, he said, 'Fine.' "His blood is on your hands, but if he dies…"

---

It was not lost on him that Brian stood in the training grounds swinging a practice sword, face a mask of indifference. He heard the whispers of the servants and soldiers, but pretended not to care. But his mind was a storm inside.

He muttered under his breath, 'They think they're sending me to my death.'

Standing nearby Arzia smirked. "Then prove them wrong."

Brian lowered the sword and paused. His eyes filled with a quiet resolve, he turned to her. "Oh, I will. We're going to do it my way."

---