Dusk had bled the color from the world, leaving only shades of grey, black, and a deep bruised purple.
The air was cold, and Dante's breath, the only sound in the bushes… plumed in front of his face in white clouds.
He was a nervous wreck.
Beside him, Shivvy was a full of pure terror. She was huddled so low she was almost part of the forest floor, her knees drawn to her chest.
In one hand, she clutched the half-eaten core of her apple, a talisman of a kinder, simpler time (an hour ago).
Her other hand was clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound of her own chattering teeth.
On his other side, Subject 47 was a void.
She was crouched in a predator's poise that was utterly inhuman.
She was just a silhouette, a person-shaped hole in the twilight, her black visor catching no light.
Dante was, he admitted, profoundly terrified of her.
Rin-Rin was a nuclear weapon. She was loud, chaotic, and would cause massive collateral damage, but she was a high-maintenance petulant pop star.
Meanwhile this... this was a scalpel.
A silent, sentient, Level 50 weapon. And he was supposed to wield it.
He was staring at his User Interface.
The moment 47 had begun her "analysis," his interface had changed.
It had expanded, and a new translucent-black window dominating his vision. It was a "Handler" feed, ripped straight from Phantom Echelon.
[OPS: 'GHOSTRUN']
[STATUS: 47 (STEALTH: GHOST)]
[OBJECTIVE: BROOCH (LOCATION: HVT)]
[PARTY: SHIVVY (STEALTH: HIDING)]
A moment later, a minimap of the ruins had bloomed in the corner of his vision. It was a perfect schematic.
He could see the layout of both floors, the crumbling walls, and the campfire.
Four small, red dots (Goblins) were gathered around the fire on the ground floor.
One, larger, pulsing red tag was on the second floor.
[HVT: HOBGOBLIN (LVL 12)]
And his specialist... she was a single blue dot, crouched right next to him.
"Creator...?" Shivvy whispered, her voice a tiny, trembling thing.
"W-what... what is she... waiting for?"
"I..." Dante started. "I don't... I think she's waiting for..."
Before he could finish, the blue dot on his minimap moved.
There was no "go" command. The tasking had been the command.
Dante just stopped breathing.
He watched the blue dot. It didn't run at the door. It didn't dart for the stairs.
It moved, fluid and direct, in a perfect straight line to the wall of the tower.
He watched the dot begin to ascend.
On his minimap, a small [^] icon appeared next to her tag, indicating a change in elevation.
She was climbing.
He risked a glance up, squinting at the real tower.
There, he saw... nothing. Just stones and ivy.
No movement. No sound.
He looked back at the map. The blue dot was at the [FLOOR 2] marker.
[STATUS: 'INSIDE PERIMETER']
Dante's heart was a hammering drum in his chest. His new wool shirt was suddenly itchy.
He was a gamer, but this wasn't a game. There was no 'reload save.'
If she failed, if she got caught, if that [HVT] roared...
It was over.
Then, his interface updated with a new impression. It wasn't a full video feed, but a tactical "snapshot" of the room 47 was in.
And his stomach dropped.
"Ughhhh…"
The Hobgoblin wasn't asleep.
The [HVT] tag was sitting upright at a crude wooden table. It was massive, a seven-foot-tall and 400-pound silhouette of armored muscle.
And the [OBJECTIVE: brooch] tag...
...was in its hand.
The Hobgoblin was looking at it, holding the delicate silver chain in its thick fingers, grunting as it examined the small heart-shaped charm.
"No," Dante whispered, his blood turning to ice. "No, no, no... Abort. 47, abort!"
He pushed the thought, the command, with all his will.
But 47 was a Level 50 specialist.
She didn't get the message. Or, she got it, and she ignored it.
Her status just updated.
[47: ANALYZING. TARGET IS DISTRACTED. OPTIMAL.]
'Optimal?' Dante thought, his panic rising.
'Optimal?! He's AWAKE!'
[47: 'OPTICAL CAMO' (LVL 5) ENGAGED. DURATION: 5.0 SEC]
The blue dot on his minimap blurred. It turned from a sharp point to a faint circle.
And it moved.
It glided across the room, soundless, right toward the HVT.
Dante imagined the scene, his mind filling in the wireframe:
The Hobgoblin grunts, its piggish eyes fixed on the brooch. It sniffs.
A flicker of... something. A change in the air. The faint smell of ozone. It looks up, its head swiveling, its black eyes scanning the shadows of the room… and…
It sees nothing. Just the flickering torchlight on the stone walls.
And then it growls, a sound of deep suspicion. But it sees no threat.
It looks back down, poking the brooch with a claw.
On Dante's map, the fuzzy blue circle solidified. It was now directly behind the HVT's red tag.
[47: IN POSITION (REAR)]
Dante was shaking.
He couldn't breathe.
'What was she doing? She was a "non-lethal" character! She wasn't a "fighter"! She couldn't possibly take on a Level 12 Hobgoblin!'
This was… a total, utter, stupid, over-confident party wipe.
"Shivvy, get ready to run," he hissed, his voice a strangled whisper.
"I... I..." Shivvy just whimpered, curling into a tighter ball.
[47: 'NERVE STRIKE' (CQC) SELECTED.]
[47: EXECUTING.]
The blue dot twitched. A micro-movement.
Dante's mind, connected to her feed, felt it more than saw it.
A soundless and perfect clinical motion.
SWOOOSHHHH
A single grey-gloved hand, emerging from the 'Optical Camo' shimmer.
It tapped.
Three lightning-fast contacts at the base of the Hobgoblin's thick, armored skull, where the spine met the helmet.
Tap. Tap-tap.
The effect was instantaneous.
And silent…
The HVT's froze.
The Hobgoblin's massive, armored body went completely rigid for one half-second.
Its grip on the brooch went slack. Its head, still staring down at the table, suddenly stopped.
Then, the entire 400-pound mass of muscle slumped sideways. Like a shutdown. It slid from the crude wooden stool and piled onto the stone floor in a silent heap.
Dante's jaw was hanging open.
[STATUS: HVT SUBDUED]
[DURATION: 60:00]
An hour. She had an hour.
The Goblins on the floor below were still laughing, their red dots unmoving around the campfire.
They hadn't heard a thing.
The room was clear.
[47: ACQUIRING OBJECTIVE.]
The blue dot on his map moved. It went to the table. The brooch, which had fallen from the Hobgoblin's hand, was a flashing green [!] icon.
The blue dot passed over it.
[OBJECTIVE: BROOCH ACQUIRED.]
[47: EXTRACTING.]
The dot moved with the same fluid grace. To the window.
The [v] icon appeared. She was descending.
After awhile, she was out of the tower.
The blue dot crossed the wireframe perimeter.
[STATUS: 'OUTSIDE PERIMETER']
The dot was moving back, directly toward their position.
And then... the feed just... stopped.
The minimap vanished. The status window closed.
His interface was back to normal, just his [20/20] Mana bar and his two (now three) active [Summon Slots].
The op was over.
Dante was just... staring at the bushes.
His mouth was sandpaper. Like he'd forgotten how to swallow.
"Creator...?" Shivvy whispered, her voice barely a breath. "Did... did she...?"
"I... I think..."
A rustle.
Dante and Shivvy both flinched so hard they almost toppled backward.
Subject 47 was crouched in the same bush as them.
She hadn't been there a second ago. Now, she was. A grey-black void, her opaque visor fixed on him.
She didn't speak. She just... held out her gloved hand.
Resting in her open palm, stark and real against the dark, synthetic material, was a small, silver, heart-shaped brooch. It was dented on one side, and the chain was broken.
'It was warm.'
Dante reached out. His hand was shaking. Badly.
He took the brooch. The metal felt heavy.
He looked up, into that unreadable insect-like visor.
A single sterile thought inserted itself into his mind, as clear and cool as a drop of ice water.
[Objective Complete.]
[Awaiting new tasking.]
"HAAAHhhhhhhhhhHHHH"
Dante let out a breath he felt like he'd been holding since he'd summoned her.
'I had done it.'
He'd sequence-broke the quest. He had the "bonus objective" item before he'd even started the "main" quest.
He looked at 47, this terrifying and silent Level 50 scalpel.
"New tasking," he whispered, his mind racing. "Right."
He looked at the ruins, where the Goblins were still laughing, completely unaware that their leader was unconscious.
"New tasking: Dismiss."
47's head tilted, one degree.
[Query?]
"You're benched," Dante said, his voice stronger. "Your part's done. And it was... perfect."
He focused his will. Dismiss.
Subject 47 gave one last, sharp nod. And, just as silently as she'd arrived, she dissolved, melting back into the shadows she'd come from.
[Creator Mana: 20/20].
His bar was already full again.
He was alone in the bushes with Shivvy, looked at the brooch in his hand. And then looked at the tower.
He now had zero risk. He could go back to the village, hand this in, get his reward, and never fight the Hobgoblin.
...But where was the EXP in that?
He was a gamer.
"Creator...?" Shivvy whispered, finally uncurling. "We... we're leaving?"
Dante stood up, stretching his stiff legs. He felt a new surge of control.
"Not yet," he said, a predatory grin spreading across his face.
He opened his "The List."
"You did great, Shivvy. Now, stay here. And... cover your ears."
He found the name he was looking for.
[Rin-Rin (3-Star Rarity)].
[Summon Cost: 10 Mana].
It was time to make some noise.