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F08/SP - Shattering the Monke <<Monkey King>>


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The Monkey King. As Oscar recalled, it was the first Quest that he had really, truly challenged himself with. The first boss that he’d tackled solo. The first true risk he took within the game. There had been many of those since. It had been necessary to reach the point he was at now. Powerful, useful. A Player worth a damn focused on getting everyone home and protecting them from the monsters on the fringes while they were here. So he found himself amused that things had all come full-circle. Here he was, battle-worn but no less motivated, undertaking the very first challenge he ever gave himself. How long had it been? The days blended together now. Everything had happened so suddenly. Lives were changed, for better or worse, in an instant. The blood on his hands stained deep, but he couldn’t - wouldn’t - let himself feel guilty for it. And so, Oscar found himself returning to his roots. He accepted the Quest from Remington, but in true Oscar fashion skipped all of the relevant dialogue. It wasn’t important and his mind was elsewhere as it stood.

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It was difficult not to feel nostalgic as he walked through Florenthia. So much had changed, but so much had also remained the same. The songbirds fluttering through the canopy, their chirps filling the air with a delightful melody. The sounds of the wind rustling through the leaves, the feeling of the wood beneath his boots. Oscar had to admit, when he really took a notion to stop and smell the roses, Aincrad was a beautiful place. Even if that beauty was marred by the fact that so many people were trapped in their own personal Hell. Walking smoothly, hands in his pockets, Oscar encountered Sewallus. He took a moment to admire the NPC’s armor. But the moment Sewallus opened his mouth, Oscar slapped him across the face.

“Skip,” Oscar said flatly. His hand moved to Sewallus’ collar, grabbing the NPC and dragging him effortlessly behind him. “Let’s go. Need you for the Quest.”
 

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Oscar’s prior experience with the quest made Sewallus’ attempts at automated exposition a bit of a moot point. He knew exactly where to find the boss, knew exactly what the boss could do. And if not for the fact that the NPC was instrumental in unlocking a new Sword Art, Oscar would have been perfectly content to leave him behind. This was not a Quest Oscar took seriously. But, then again, there was nothing about the game other than the ultimate consequence that Oscar took seriously. It was all distraction. Fluff. Meaningless drivel meant to obfuscate the fact that everyone was well and truly trapped here. Why engage with an obvious gaslighting attempt? He could thank his old profession for the fact that his own mental fortitude had lasted so long. He could read the signs, recognize the emergent issues, and respond accordingly. But there were simply so many people unable to adjust. Unable to hope that, one day, they’ll finally be logged out of this game.

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And so it began. As they approached the Monkey King’s lair, Sewallus twisted out of Oscar’s grip. His scripting set him into combat mode. Steel was bared and the man surged on ahead. Oscar was keen to let him do it, instead letting out a heavy sigh and drawing his weapon. He walked slowly, watching as Sewallus quickly put distance between them. And then he saw it. The Monkey King. A hulking brute of black fur and thick, sinewy muscle. There was a time when Oscar feared such a thing. A time when one blow from those powerful arms would have left him reeling, unable to take another hit. Those days were long past, now. As Sewallus used his ability, Oscar broke off into a sprint. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance and dashed up the side of a tree. He was currently in free-fall, weapon primed and eyes focused on the target. His weapon cloaked in red, Oscar descended like a meteor, cleaving straight through the boss and leaving its HP in fetters. Despite the sudden damage, the Monkey King was firmly focused on Sewallus. So much the better if Oscar didn’t have to chase it around.

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Sewallus kept the Monkey busy, allowing Oscar to wheel around and deal the final blow. As the standard fanfare played and Sewallus began to congratulate and thank the man, Oscar merely delivered another slap to the NPC’s cheek. It was astonishing how easily it was done. How little risk one needed to undertake now. He had to wonder that had the Quest played out then as it did now, whether it would have affected his current resolve at all. There was a certain thrill in the risk. It brought focus, unfettered restraint. He had become accustomed to do-or-die moments at a very low level and a very early stage in his current career. Without that, would he have risen to the place he was now? Without that one, very first instance, how much different would he be now? It was an interesting thought. And as he shove his hands in his pockets, he decided to entertain them on this rare occasion. With the struggle largely behind him, he could afford that, he thought.

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And if he was going to be introspective, he was going to get a grind done while he was at it. Having wandered through the forest for a while, Oscar stopped and opened his menu. Looking out over his items, his eyes fell upon an old piece of gear. Memories began to flood back. The formative period, when Oscar had no idea what the Hell he was doing. His finger hovered over the entry, hesitating. Remembering the times before it all went to shit. A smile rose to his face as he tapped the entry, donning the <<Gloves of Caerus>> for the first time in recent memory. His inventory was a mess of old memories. Each piece a different stage in his training. Each piece representing a skill gained or a major event. He had to wonder what had him feeling so nostalgic. Perhaps it was because he could afford to feel it now that people weren’t gunning so hard for his neck.

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It was a funny feeling to take his armor off. He’d been a steadfast wall for quite some time. He felt almost naked seeing his mitigation drop to the low double digits. If there was a time when such a thing would make him feel nervous, he couldn’t remember it. He was sure it had happened, but he couldn’t place exactly when he’d made that shift. Oscar wouldn’t say that he didn’t value his life. In fact, it was quite the opposite. But he valued his goals more. They were worth the risk. His task was worth the risk. They were responsibilities he foisted upon himself - no one had asked him to do it. Hell, they probably would never even thank him for it. But they were still his responsibilities. There was little more honorable than putting one’s neck on the line to keep another safe. And there were just so many people he wanted to keep safe.

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It was nice to be able to grind mobs once again. The first group had fallen easily and now he was firmly locked in combat with the second. He could turn his mind off at times like this. Almost act on autopilot, cleaving mobs with wild abandon. At some point, he completely dissociated. His mind left his body, leaving it to carve through the forest as his thoughts wandered. And then he heard it, a voice from behind.

“Do you really think you can save them?”

Oscar wheeled around. When he did, he found that the forest was gone. He found himself standing upon an endless expanse of shadows. All that he could see within the darkness was himself, as if he were looking in a mirror. If, of course, that mirror looked haggard and worn down. Deep set ridges upon his face and heavy bags under his eyes. Disheveled appearance and a blank stare. It was almost unnerving, really.
 

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“Oh shit,” Oscar said with a laugh. “I’m totally seeing things. Guess I couldn’t hold out forever.”

The disparity was jarring. One version of Oscar broken down by the stresses of his ordeal, the other smiling in amusement at the scene unfolding before him. He knew which was the real him. He knew what the other Oscar represented. All of his repressed feelings of inadequacy. His self-doubt and worries. An amalgamation of issues long stuffed down deep, payment deferred to a later date. That date had arrived, it seemed. Oscar was not immortal, neither was he invulnerable. He was self-aware enough to understand that. A mental break was coming whether he liked it or not. He’d held himself together for a long time as best he could, but even was subject to the same struggles as everyone else. He understood. That’s why he fought so hard. That’s why he set out to win.

And if this next fight was against himself, he’d win that one too.
 

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“Do you really think you can save them?”

The Other posed the same question. This time, Oscar wasn’t taken aback by the suddenness of it all. He had an answer. Of course he did.. He didn’t come this far and struggle this much not to be able to answer something so simple.

“Of course I do,” Oscar replied with a smile. “Why the fuck would I waste my time if I didn’t? You’re Me. You know how I get.”

The Other was silent for a moment. His eyes narrowed at Oscar’s response. 

“What about Jason, then? You didn’t save him.”

Oscar’s face twitched. A flash of emotion danced across his features. Something between mournful and a scowl.

“A child will grow up without a father. A wife lost her beloved husband. All because he helped you.”

The shadows began to write. The scene began to shift. The ground gave way to open air. Oscar looked down at that familiar scene, his eyes widening as the reminder was quite literally shoved in his face.
 

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Oscar hated to admit it, but The Other was right. Jason was his first failure. The first of many, he were being honest. The man had been trapped in the game, living his life in peace on Floor 2. His wife back in the real world was almost due to deliver their newborn daughter. In a rare opportunity to blow off some steam, Jason had decided to join the Launch of the game. Only, he was trapped within it. It was already bad enough that he had missed his daughter’s birth. Missed hearing her first cries. Missed being there for his wife at that perfect, beautiful moment. He had given Oscar his hospitality, once. And that had been all it had taken to put a target on his back. Oscar had been ignorant of the machinations from the shadows then. Perhaps he would have done things differently if he had known. Certainly, he wouldn’t have exposed a man like that to such risk.

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But then again, that was the first bit of motivation Oscar got. The first reason to fight. The unfortunate circumstance of a man he’d just met had lit a fire in his chest. He fought not just for himself, but for the sake of someone else ever since that day. Every step, every attack, every quest had been in the furtherance of his intent to join the Frontlines and actually help people like Jason escape this Hell. And it was a difficult thing to reconcile. In many ways, Jason had given Oscar reason to surpass himself. In life, it was the noble goal of helping everyone escape. And in death, it was the the focus and intent to cut out the cancer afflicting the game. Perhaps Oscar never would have attempted to join the Frontlines if they never met. And certainly Oscar would not have so much blood on his hands had he not had to watch Jason die.

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The scene unfolded beneath them. Tyson’s men began to extort Jason, threatening Oscar’s life to motivate him. Eventually, when the two crossed paths again, Jason had leveled up and become stronger. He decided to help Oscar with a Quest, but it was all a pretense to lure him out of the safe zone at the PKer’s orders. But Jason was a good man. His conscience won out and warned Oscar of the impending danger. They had formulated a plan to strike back at the PKers. Oscar would pretend to be paralyzed while Jason distracted the men. When the time was right, Oscar could drop the act and deal with the threat. It was a good plan. Or, at least, it was the best one they had at the time. Maybe if they had a bit longer to plan or if Oscar could have somehow outmaneuvered them, it would have gone down differently. 

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Oscar watched from above as Jason stuck a dagger in his back. Five Players stepped out from behind the trees. Seeing them again reignited that hate he felt that day. They deserved worse than what Oscar gave them. Jason and Oscar had a plan, but they couldn’t have expected the PKers demand that Jason do their dirty work for them. But Jason was a good man. He planted his feet and refused. He wouldn’t kill a friend. Of course, their enemies knew that. That, too, was simply pretense. They used his refusal to justify his execution, thinking that Oscar was incapable of reprisal.

Two of them died before Jason’s shards had disappeared completely.

Another died when he attacked, realizing what was going on.

The other two were hunted through the forest like the dogs they were. And, in a twist of irony, Oscar made an older sister watch her brother die before finally putting her out of her misery.
 

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That was the day it all went to shit, Oscar realized. His first time killing another Player. His brutality earned him the moniker “Beast” among the PKers who were suddenly shocked to see one man add five names to the Monument in one day. He became aware of the threat closing in around him. And he had no choice but to play Tyson’s game. 

“Do you still think you can save them?”

“I told you. Of fucking course I do,” Oscar responded quickly. “Even if I fail, I have to believe that. If I don’t move with that intention, I will simply continue to fail. More people will die. I’m not a hero. I’m not pretending to be a hero. But I gotta move on and learn from my failures or there will just be so many more of them. So we keep going. We keep moving. We can’t stop. Not here, not now.”
 

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“I’m sure that will be of great comfort to Jason’s widow and fatherless daughter.”

Oscar scowled as anger flared in his eyes. “That’s just another reason. They deserve to know what happened. That, even in his final moments, he was a good man. That he stood up for his friends. That it was his sacrifice that made me work so hard to get everyone out of here.”

“What do you expect to happen then? Gratitude? Do you think you deserve it after getting them killed?”

“Fuck no,” Oscar said. “I don’t deserve anything more than their contempt. I got him killed. But they deserve closure. They deserve to hear why and how. So they can move on. Because I know Jason wouldn’t want to see them stuck on him.”

“Are you sure you’re not looking for them to absolve you of your guilt? Don’t want them to forgive you for your mistake?”

“Not in a million years. This guilt is going to follow me to the grave. It fucking hurts. But someone needs to remember. He saved my life. That’s the least I can do for him.”
 

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“What if you fail again? What if someone else dies? Can you take all that pain?”

It was hard to argue against himself - the literal embodiment of his own guilt and insecurities. It was a constant fear, failing like that again. And having the question posed to him in such a way was almost enough to shake his resolve. Almost. The anger faded and the smile returned to Oscar’s face.

“I’m not gonna,” he said. “They caught me by surprise. Took advantage of my hesitation. I was trying to figure out why they were after me. Us. I don’t care about the whys anymore. If they’re a threat, I’ll remove them.”

The Other fell silent again. Oscar’s confidence could easily be mistaken for arrogance. But The Other knew the truth.

“We’re in my mind, right? Showing my memories? Well I guess that means I can do this,” Oscar said. He waved his hand in front of him and the shadows returned for a moment. The scene beneath them changed again.
 

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The fields of Floor One stretched out before them. In the distance, the Town of Beginnings could be seen. The threat had been well and truly established now. Oscar had shaken - killed - the tail Tyson had put on him. Having invested heavily into Searching, it was damn near impossible to keep a stealthed PKer on him. It gave Oscar a small window of opportunity. A chance to turn a weakness into an advantage. Oscar knew, at some point, Tyson would come after the Orphanage in Town. He didn’t think that Tyson would kill children, but he couldn’t put much past him. Thus, a field trip was in order. It had taken some doing. Wrangling children in a slightly-dangerous area was still more danger than they should have been exposed to. But he had to do something. He had to at least help give them the means to help themselves if things went as far South as he feared.

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“You put children at risk to fight in your war,” The Other said.

Oscar could only laugh, then. It was a ludicrous observation. A contortion of reality meant to pluck at his guilt once more. “Oh don’t give me that,” Oscar said with a chuckle. “That’s so weak. You know exactly what I did and why I did it. Those field trips saved lives.”

It hadn’t taken long, really. Oscar guiding the children at the orphanage three-by-three through the Tutorial. Grinding mobs on Floor One until they had the levels necessary to invest heavily into stealth and first aid. Employing Crafters on the low to equip them with armor to give them some level of survivability. Working with the caretakers on an action plan if things went south. Then drilling everyone one the contingencies if those plans fails.

“The children were always at risk. I gave them the tools to protect themselves. Would it have been better if I just let it happen and let them die? Wouldn’t that be failing them?”
 

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“Warlords always justify employing their child soldiers.”

“Child soldiers? You dumb?”

“You could have left. You could have disappeared. You could have done all you could to remove the target from them.”

“Did you forget? I did. I went to ground right after I did all of this. I so badly hoped that they would never need to use the skills they learned. Tyson came after them anyway. Or did you forget that incident was what brought me back from my little sabbatical.”

The Other fell silent. Oscar realized that it was simply echoing the same thoughts that he’d had about the situation. The same questions and opinions he’d asked himself. But The Other wasn’t able to argue with the fact that the decision to train the kids just enough to keep themselves safe had saved their lives.

“I played my cards to the best of my ability. I left no stone unturned. No eventuality unplanned for. I will not apologize for making the best decision to keep those children safe.”
 

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