Planet Earth, Year 1 A.I. (July 2023 CE, 18 Weeks after System Integration)

I awaken from yet another vision of my past life. How odd that only a few weeks after encountering a vampire here in this life, I have a vision of encountering one in my past life as well. Moreover, the two shared several characteristics, beyond superficial ones of pale skin, distaste for light, and being women. Pride and arrogance chief among them, along with high strength and a general disregard for the lives and well-being of others.

I hesitate. I know in some games and other fantasy media, races like devils and goblins are described as being ‘always evil’. I don’t want to extend that to the real world as well. But, although a sample size of two is insufficient to draw any significant conclusions, I am forced to consider. What if Chloe’s class is correct? What if undead creatures, even sapient ones like vampires, are coerced by their own class or race, or whatever other power births them, to act in a selfish manner? What if there really are beings who, by virtue of what they are, really can and should be discriminated against, or at least treated with suspicion? Or worse, exterminated on sight?

It’s a thought that doesn’t make me happy. It goes against the ideals and values that have been instilled within me. But just as Chloe’s class harbors a deep hatred against the undead, mine also boasts a deep reverence for scientific inquiry and self-improvement. Distasteful though the thought may be, I would be doing myself and the world a disservice if I rejected a line of scientific inquiry based purely on moral prerogatives.

I shake my head. No, that’s wrong. Very wrong. Science should always be tempered by morality and ethics. I castigate myself silently for thinking such thoughts. Invasive notions of my class indeed.

My thoughts are interrupted by Chloe’s hands reaching up and around my waist. She pulls me into a kiss, which I eagerly accept, holding her close as well.

“Morning, Sera,” she messages. “Are we still planning to go back to the Tower today?”

I nod, then quickly respond ‘yes’ as I realize she can’t actually see my head bobbing with her face currently buried in my chest. The two of us giggle.

“Did you ever hear back from Alana?” Chloe sent her a text over the weekend asking her back, although she hasn’t yet responded.

“No. I think she and Jasmine are going on sabbatical from the military for a couple of weeks. Jasmine’s mother was critically wounded by a hippocamp and is still convalescing.”

“Ah…” I can’t help but feel a mixture of sympathy for Jasmine and her family, mixed with anger at my own powerlessness and inability to prevent it from happening in the first place.

“But, I heard from her that Alexey had been considering going into the Tower.”

“That could be interesting. I think he’d complement the two of us pretty well if he decides to join us. Considering his strength, I have to imagine he’s getting close to Level 50 as well, if he’s not already there.”

Chloe stretches while letting out more cute noises that I can’t stop from sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. “We should be quick about getting ready, then. It’s almost dawn and Alexey is too much of a military man to want to wait a minute after then. Good heavens, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already there, expecting us.”

“Well, we shan’t keep him waiting any longer than needed.”

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It’s not exactly cool when we arrive, just as the uppermost sliver of the sun’s disc is rising above the eastern horizon. It is, however, quiet. A few cyclists and a couple of quiet transports— groundbound, and very crude facsimiles of the ones that existed in the world from which I originally came. Still, the quiet thrums of a few retrofitted emergency vehicles and super early morning commuters is a welcome sign that some semblance of normalcy is returning to town after all of the recent and not-so-recent calamities.

As Chloe insinuated before we left, Alexey is already here in front of the Tower, a large backpack containing countless supplies and combat equipment strapped behind him. As always, his rugged, sharp, and slightly-wizened features are only emphasized by his clean-shaven face and the graying, nearly-buzz-cut hair on top. He nods to us as we fly down, though his face otherwise remains stern and disciplined, a paragon of the professional soldier.

“Ms. Jacobs, Ms. Mortensen,” he says, his thick Slavic accent making it a bit difficult to understand at times. “It is good to see you two both alive and well.”

“Likewise,” Chloe says. She offers Master Sergeant Ivankov a handshake, then, after a moment’s hesitation, changes it to a salute.

Alexey shakes his head, but a slight smile assuages my concern that Chloe had offended him. He extends his hand out. “Handshake is good. You two are no longer military. No need to follow formal military procedure.”

We each shake his hand. “Our time working alongside you all was valuable experience and it was great to meet you and everyone else, but I’m glad to be free from the regimens of life in the forces,” I say.

“As it is for many who come into service. Most of them are only interested in doing their four years to get veterans’ benefits, then getting out. It takes a certain kind of person to want to stick around beyond that.”

Chloe looks down. “What kind of person?”

“Some people come from rough families. No support, no opportunity, limited chances even to eke out a meager existence. Others are even worse off. Get involved with drugs or the law. The military offers them discipline, structure, and camaraderie. Some of them don’t adjust. But a lot of them do. A lot of young men. A few women, far more men. They grow up in such hardship. Seen such horrible, awful things that even I shudder to think about. But getting that last chance and those guardrails that the service provides? Warms my heart every time I see someone turn their life around like that.”

Chloe nods.

“Then there’s folks like me. Grew up in conflict. Cold War, Kuwait, then peacekeeping operations in the Balkans. After that came 9/11, Iraq, everything else in the Middle East. And now the System. I’ve lived my entire life on the battlefield. At this point, I’m so entrenched in the battlefield that, even if you could take me off the battlefield, you couldn’t get the battlefield out of me. I’ve already decided that I’m going to die on the battlefield when my time comes, and until then, I’m going to do as much as I can to protect and train the next generation, and try to steer them on the right path as best I know how.”

Chloe lets a single teardrop down her cheek. Her hands glow with golden light, the telltale sign of her channeling [Ether] for a powerful healing spell. And then, in an instant, all that golden light envelops Alexey.

“I know my magic doesn’t cure emotional and spiritual wounds the way it does physical injury, but Sera’s mentioned a few times that it helps her. I just thought that maybe it would help you as well.”

Alexey smiles. “You are a kind soul, Ms. Jacobs. But please do not worry for my sake. This burden I carry in my heart is my own form of penance for the many lives I have taken over the decades.”

“But–” I try to interject.

“I know. Being a soldier means doing heinous work. Not because it’s necessary, but because that’s what we’re ordered to do, and we are obligated to obey lawful orders. I have taken part in a lot of killing. Most of it was unnecessary, for the convenience of our superiors, all the way up to the politicians. The least I can do is hold on to that heaviness in my heart and try to remember the people whose lives I took from them.”

I can’t help but feel guilt at hearing his words. I remember after the harpies, when I cast [Black Hole] and ensnared eight unfortunate people in the radius of my implosion. I never did find out anything about those folks, whose lives I cut short in my inexperience and negligence and rush to try to save many more lives. In my case, it probably was necessary, or at least, my actions did save far more lives. But… ‘It was necessary’ is hollow comfort for the people who died that day, regardless of who was the one who the System ‘credited’ with the kill.

“By the way,” Chloe asks. “Do you need all that stuff out right now?”

I hadn’t pieced it together, but the fact that he’s carrying all that gear around is all but certainly confirmation that he’s not quite at Level 50 just yet. Probably really close though, considering that he had to have gotten a lot of Experience from the City Slayter.

“If you’re offering to help, I won’t complain. Though, I must question your lack of gear. From what I understand, we could be trapped in there for days.”

I glance around to make sure there aren’t any cameras or onlookers eavesdropping upon the three of us before pulling my trusty bag of trail mix out of my [Inventory]. After a moment, I dissolve it back away in a flash of teal light.

“I have heard of that new magic you possess,” Alexey says. “The ability to store your equipment away. If our soldiers had that power back in the day, I’m sure countless lives would have been saved with the gear and equipment we could have stored and had access to on the front lines.”

I don’t mention that, by the same logic, just as many more lives would be lost for the same reason. Bigger guns, stronger Skills, more advanced intelligence and reconnaissance capabilities. Everything that makes fighting safer for one side makes it deadlier for the other, and I know, from my experiences with the black market and arms traders, that what is known to one side, is swiftly thereafter proffered to all. I think Alexey knows as much, just mourning his comrades in arms the way he knows how.

Not ready to break the heavy mood his words have set, I lower my head as Chloe and I divide up what gear Alexey offers us to be stored away in our respective [Inventory]. I’m a bit surprised when I inadvertently notice the glint of a small locket in the middle of one of his bags and the picture contained within. The picture is that of a young boy, maybe eight years old, and two sisters, both younger still.

I– I struggle to hold back the tears as I work through the likeliest explanation. Alexey never mentioned having a family of his own when we traveled together months back. Always said he was a man of the military through and through, having served in the forces his entire adult life. And now, I can’t help but wonder: Just what has war taken from him? Comrades, friends, maybe a lover at one point. Even his family, or so it seems. Death and destruction. War. They are the constants of human civilization from the beginning and will remain as such until the very end, System or no.

I do my best to finish up quickly, turning off [Archangel’s Gaze] to avoid looking at any more of his private effects. Once I finish, I make my way up to the Tower’s front entrance.

It opens so easily now; whether because of my higher Level, greater [Strength], or some hidden will of the Tower or System beckoning me back into its hellish embrace, I don’t know. Chloe follows just after, slipping my left hand into hers. Even with an arm of metal, I still feel her warmth and the comfort she offers with her mere embrace.

Alexey follows us just behind, surveying his surroundings as we enter into the pit of darkness, the quiet chamber that separates hell from Earth, inviting us to partake in as much of the former as we dare.

We go over what we know about the Tower. About the challenges and levels we’ve faced so far, and our thoughts on what sort of trials still await. And then, without further ado, the three of us make our way into the teleporter, and from there, up the stairs, from the twenty-first to the twenty-second floor.