Oscar

But Lessa wouldn’t be immortalized as a murderer today. Oscar lashed out, his blade cutting deep into his attackers. They could remain where they were and allow Oscar to put them down or they could retreat and find another avenue of attack. They were smart players, so they chose the latter. Removing their weapons from Oscar’s body allowed him to move as they leaped backward. Before their feet even touched the ground again, Oscar had seized the opportunity to remove a piece from the board. Janus’s head was removed from his shoulders, his body reduced to fragments, in the blink of an eye. He’d d

His fears soon became reality as the dagger-wielder - Janus - was able to blaze past him while Oscar was busy with Lenore. Like a missile, he surged toward the children. His dagger glinted in the cold moonlight. Oscar could do nothing else but watch out of the corner of his eye as the weapon took on an unearthly glow as Janus activated a Sword Art. One AOE and it was all over. He turned to try and intercept nonetheless, only to find himself skewered and held in place by spear and sword. But at the last moment, he saw it. The glint of steel and the flurry of golden hair. Dashing through the chi

It was all Oscar could do to keep the three seasoned Player Killers at bay. They would charge and Oscar could counter and force them back. But he would pushing himself to his absolute limit. He couldn’t go on the offensive while he was trying to keep the children safe. But they were free to chip away at his health. And while the children were able to keep him healed, they didn’t have an abundance of energy. They would run out before too long and every time he clashed with one of the trio, he was forced backwards bit by bit. He had to wonder what would happen. Would the children run out of ener

“Nuh uh!” Owen exclaimed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest with a pout. “We don’t know how to fight so good, but there’s three of those guys. What if you need more healing?” “Getting kids to fight your battles for you Oscar? For shame,” Tyson sneered. “I hope you don’t think I’m above killing them. When a kid’s holding a gun, they become a threat, right? Not quite a gun, but keeping you alive is definitely close enough. Rell, if you would.” Oscar was barely able to react in time. The man surged forward, brandishing a wicked curved sword. Oscar moved quickly, turning on his

“Come on Hot Dog Man! You gotta fight ‘em,” one said. A sandy-haired youth - Owen, Oscar remembered. “You shouldn’t have taught us how to sneak so good. We found out what the deal was when you were talking to the grown-ups. So we figured out how to help!” Oscar smiled. He knew that he would have been dead without these impetuous little brats. And, honestly, he still wasn’t out of the woods. But neither could he put on a piss-poor showing after these children had stuck their necks out for them. He could see it in their eyes. They were terrified. But they’d swallowed that and slipped away f

The flaw in his plan had been laid bare. He hadn’t expected the unexpected. The very thing he preached to those Player Killers before he ended them. How hypocritical he was. And he would pay for that blunder with his life, it seemed. It seemed. But Oscar hadn’t expected the unexpected. And the most unexpected thing of all was the sudden surge of blue light that enveloped him. The words flashed across his screen. Paralysis dispelled by <<Purify>> <<First Aid>> used on Oscar, Health Restored. <<First Aid>> used on Oscar, Health Restore

Oscar didn’t need Tyson to spell it out for him. He could tell just by the way they stood that these three were a cut above the rest. And things certainly weren’t looking good at this point. That simple attack had taken a healthy chunk off of his already-depleted health. It had been quite some time since someone was able to bypass all of his mitigation so handily. And there were three of them. Even if he had some way to clear the Paralysis, he’d be hard pressed to fight them off. For the first time, Oscar considered fleeing. He had a Teleport Crystal handy. He could get to safety. But what of

Oscar shouldn’t have relaxed. Even with the revelations Tyson provided, he should have kept his guard up. All of a sudden, he felt a sharp pain in his side. His body failed him. Looking up at his HUD, he saw that he was afflicted with Paralysis. A dark-robed figure stepped past, yanking his dagger from between Oscar’s ribs and leaving a jagged red gash in its wake. There was no blood. Of course there wouldn’t be in Aincrad. But the gash and his loss of movement caused a brief surge of panic. Two more robed figures joined the first, assembling in a sloppy phalanx in front of Tyson. “Oscar,

“I’ll even take it a step further. All those people you killed? Laughing Coffin wannabes. See, I learned that if I pretended to be a contact for Laughing Coffin, I could get those idiots to go after whoever I wanted. So I figured, hey. Why not send them after people that could kill them? And if they managed to kill you in the process, that would just be an added bonus. What was it your adopted dad liked to say? Redeem the redeemable?” “And send the rest to Hell,” Oscar replied on reflex to finish the sentence. “Exactly. You were really quite useful in that regard. More useful than I

Everyone knew of Laughing Coffin, even in the passing sense. A boogeyman amongst the Players. A powerful, shadowy group that existed only to kill and terrorize honest players. They could be hired out, for a price. At least, that’s what the rumors said. But no one had seen Laughing Coffin active in quite some time. Everyone assumed that they’d killed themselves off. Oscar knew better. He had to expect that they would be in the shadows. Lurking. Plotting. Waiting for just the right time. But what if they weren’t. What if Tyson wasn’t lying. What if he was actively holding them back. It take

Tyson scoffed and shook his head. “Of course they would say that. All they’ve known is me gunning for you. The only orders they received revolved around you. They have no idea how deep my Guild goes.” “Oh? Enlighten me.” “Since you’re not making it off of this glacier, I might as well. We exist as a deterrent. There’s more than just me out there. Not quite so strong, but every bit as vicious. They march to the beat of my drum. They exist because I continue to allow them to. I built this Guild up as a dam holding back the river of death those PKers want to unleash. If you think my men

“That I wouldn’t end them the way I should have ended you back then. Your mistake was thinking that I’m not a scarier monster than you are. You confused my mistake for weakness and that’s why everything you built is crashing down around you.” “God, do you ever get tired of listening to yourself speak? You think I built this up just because I wanted to get back at you? You think I did any of this because of you? You’re a side project. A loose end. But you are smart. Too smart for me to believe for a second you couldn’t tell the difference between a death and a teleport. The lie’s too easy

If Tyson was going to make his final play, Oscar would have it be done on his terms. Hastily. Emotionally. With the window open for mistakes that Oscar could exploit. “You wanted this,” Oscar said, his tone accusatory. “You saw a chance to be free of the angel on your shoulder and just went with it. It was never about being abandoned. Admit it. You were just biding your time. Waiting for me to take my eyes off of you for a second so you can get back to old habits.” Oscar raised his sword, pointing it toward his protege. “How’d that work out for you? You got so many people killed for

Oscar had managed to render Tyson speechless. He could see the gears turning in the youth’s head. How many things he’d been wrong about. How many mistakes he made. And he had made some really fucking massive ones. Literally life or death decisions with an emphasis on the latter. Oscar knew where this was going. When things got this far, rarely did they end amicably. If Tyson had one final card to play, he would play it now. Why wouldn’t he, with his back against the wall as it was. With his assumptions demolished by cold logic. If Oscar had any particular failing, it was a lack of affinity wit

“Bullshit,” Tyson scoffed. “I know what you’ve been up to. You really expect me to believe a Player as good as you couldn’t tell the difference between dead and almost dead?” “All of this was very much a learned skill. You forget I never played video games much before this. What’s more believable, that I just up and turned my back on you or that I was a fucking idiot?” “Both.” “Yeah, well. Think what you’re gonna think, Tyson. But I fucking mourned you. Do you have any idea? I thought I watched you die! What would you have me do? Live in a depression for the rest of my life beca

“Not for a second.” That much was still true. Oscar had never taken any sort of grim satisfaction out of it. He was merely the second half of cause and effect. They’d come gunning for his head and he declined to let them take it. “You misinterpreted my words,” Oscar continued. “You think I’m gonna feel guilty for defending myself? My friends? I could have gone scorched earth months ago. But I had hoped you’d see sense. Maybe you’d come down off your mountain and just fucking talk.” “Why the fuck would I talk to you? You showed where your priorities were. You made all these new f

But Oscar wasn’t going to give the kid the satisfaction of seeing him winded. And if he could stall for time long enough for his health to click back up to full, so much the better. He needed to get himself under control. Even now, at the end of it and after fighting through everything that Tyson had to throw at him, he couldn’t be hasty. Losing his head and rushing in was certain to see him blundering into some final trap. As if Tyson could read Oscar’s mind, he laughed. “What’s wrong? I thought it would be on-sight. Not gonna take my head too? God, you’re such a fraud. All that preachin

“Took you long enough,” Tyson said with a sneer. “Really thought you’d be here sooner. To hear my boys talk, you’re some crazy good Player. How’s that health bar looking?” Oscar’s eye flicked to the top left corner of his HUD. He wasn’t doing too hot, that was certain. Squarely below half health with barely any time to get it back. If Tyson had a grand play here, Oscar had never been more vulnerable. But Oscar couldn’t see anything. He’d proven time and again that trying to sneak up on him was futile. Surely Tyson wouldn’t try it. Of course, that was the type of thinking Tyson thrive

And there he was again, standing on that frigid rooftop. The glacier stretched out beneath them, stark white in all directions. He’d lost track of how many people he’d killed in his frenzied climb through the keep. But there he was. Tyson, finally forced from the shadows. The most surprising bit was the green cursor. Oscar, full of fury as he was then, spat an insult about the kid not being willing to get his hands dirty. It was, of course, riposted with a smart-ass response. For a moment, things were as they were. If you could forget for a moment that the two of them wanted to tear the other

His mind went back. Unlike before, the dark corridor he stood in didn’t shift. Oscar had to wonder for a moment why that was. Both he and his twin had a flair for the dramatic. Neither were above providing “visual aids” to prove their points. But then again, Oscar wasn’t exactly making a point right now. His twin had finally managed to perform its purpose and slip through Oscar’s armor. For the first time in this entire vision quest, Oscar was feeling introspective. He wouldn’t say that he was second-guessing himself. He’d come too far for that. There was no point crying over spilled milk now.

"Don't mention it," came Oscar's response. The professional side of the man wanted to dive into the source of the Whisper's mental anguish. But it would be a bit of a waste of time. He could provide therapy and advice all day, but until the source of the issue was resolved, it wouldn't take. The source here being the fact that they were trapped in a digital prison full of murderers and psychopaths. Back in the real world, Oscar had been quite good at his job - a consummate professional. But they were not there. And the tips and tricks he could provide weren't likely to apply. The best he could

After the travesty of Gabrandr, Oscar was well within his rights to assume that everyone had completely lost their marbles. Two years stuck in virtual reality would do that, but he didn't have any sort of contingency in place in the event the remaining Players decided to hug it out with the enemy hostiles. It remained an ever-present fear. How could one even plan around that? So, it was heartening to see the fervor with which the strangers engaged the boss before them. He'd met these people in passing. Barely acquaintances, if he were being honest. He'd not had the time or the energy

“If you had that duel today, do you think you could win? You won, but you lost your confidence. You don’t think you have what it takes to redeem the kid. And why would you? He’s your biggest failure. And just when you thought that you’d finally gotten through to him, he fell back into old habits. What will you do, Oscar? Can you be there every step of the way? What guarantees do you have that you’ll be there for him this time?” A long silence passed between them as the shadows began to twist and envelop the both of them. Standing once more in the darkness of his own mind, no longer distra

Looking down at the battle, Oscar realized that he’d never fought quite so hard before or since this encounter. It transcended stats and weapons and the System. Every slash and parry, every stunning strike and feint, was executed with masterful precision. Sword and axe clashed together, their combined melody filling the air, reverberating over the plains. Oscar understood what his Twin was getting at. He’d fought Bahr - the most bull-headed and stubborn man he’d ever met - to a complete standstill because he’d steeled himself for the task ahead. Dove in with both feet, to use the Other’s words

“Look,” his twin said. The scene shifted once again, a new vista shimmering to life around them. It was storming. Lighting streaked across the sky, passing closely by the pair as they hovered in the air. Down below, two men clad in green and red clashed with one another. Their blows were concussive. Their moves were graceful. They danced about the rain-soaked plains in a fearsome, bloody clash. In between attacks they sniped at one another. Two different wills pulling both of them apart. Their words were harsh - of course they were. One had crossed a line the other wouldn’t dare to cross,