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⬣//BLOSSOMING FROM A GAP IN THE ASPHALT.
A new Root Town has been revealed: Naval Monte, a tiered city built upon a mountain jutting up from an endless expanse of ocean. These fortified walls house an innumerable number of NPCs who, unlike those which occupy other Root Towns, are quite a bit more advanced.
Those of you who spend entirely too much time logged in have no doubt noticed the set patterns the NPCs of Mac Anu and Lumina Cloth take to move from area to area. Their paths never change. Their dialog rarely diverges. Talking to a freshly painted wall would be more stimulating than conversing with your run of the mill NPC, but Naval Monte's are different.
They move in accordance with their own whims, seldom found in the same place twice. Some NPCs have entire families while others boast elaborate backstories and speak at length of their tales of bravery and triumphs over evil. While they won't accept your party invites, they may instead invite you to share a meal with their family and regale you with stories until you've had your fill.
Travel far enough into the depths of the city and you'll hear tales of a graveyard that sits within the core of the mountain, but the NPCs who guard this elusive site are defensive at best. Don't expect them to let you in, but given their advanced nature, you may be able to wheedle some valuable information out of them.
Be aware that there is a price to enter Naval Monte. After crossing the vast bridge leading right up to the mountain city, you'll be accosted by no less than a dozen eager vendors fighting to peddle their wares to you. Some are so desperate that they ask only for a single GP, and in exchange, they grant you passage to the city.
Ask them why they're so desperate to make a sale and they'll answer plainly: if you don't, the curse will persist.
Come Saturday morning, an email flagged as urgent pops up in your inbox.
To our beta team,
It has come to our attention that a number of our beta testers have failed to report previous underlying health conditions that may negatively impact their ability to perform their duties as intended.
In our ongoing efforts to monitor the health and safety of our beta testing team, all participants in Fragment's closed beta test will be required to complete a health screening before the date of September 16th in order to continue participating in the beta.
Beta participants will be matched with a health professional in their area and the fees for their screening and assessment waived. As such, it is necessary that you make an appointment with the medical professional assigned to you or select another from within our network.
No exceptions will be made for those who fail to submit their health assessments to CyberConnect's Health and Human Resources department. Termination from Fragment's beta testing program and applicable legal action will be taken in the event that you fail to participate in these necessary steps.
We take the health and safety of our beta testers very seriously. If you have any concerns, please contact us at cccorp.ccmail.com.
Thank you for your continued efforts,
CyberConnect Corporation of Japan.
Murmurs of an unusual NPC have begun to circulate within Naval Monte.
According to eye witnesses, one of the local residents has "gone rogue". According to them, a woman with dishwater eyes and hair messily pulled into a loose bun has been spotted going door to door begging to be let in.
"We need to go," she shouts, her eyes glossy with tears, her every word slurred. "We'll be safe there! We'll be free! We can't live like this anymore!"
From what you've heard, that woman has managed to break free from the confines of her native Root Town and has been seen running through the streets in Mac Anu, Lumina Cloth, and the nameless Root Town in the sky. You may have even come across her, accosted in the street and urged to listen to her increasingly erratic ramblings.
"I need you to take me there! Take me to him! His father left the key within him!"
Ultimately, nothing you say or do will influence the woman's behavior or calm her down. All you'll get for your troubles is an ill feeling in the pit of your gut, something that blooms from within you and spreads infinitely outwards. An infection you can't cure.
You won't realize that the infection has begun to spread and mutate until you see it blossoming all around you, your fellow testers complaining of an unidentifiable malaise. You'll know what afflicts you and everyone you've infected when it's far too late to do anything about it. Until this unfortunate "bug" is patched, you'll continue to get sicker and sicker. The progression of the illness is as follows:
Stage one: The complete inability to lie, but is that really a bad thing? We could all stand to be more honest and communicative.
Stage two: The loss of one of your key senses, but only one. Maybe it's your sense of smell. Your keen tongue. Your vision. Whatever it is, it's a vital part of you that won't return to you until you log off, but when you next log in, you may find that a different sense has gone missing instead.
Stage three: Disconnect from your real world body. You'll realize after several days have passed that you can no longer feel your real self as keenly as before. You may not realize you've slapped yourself in the face or knocked a tooth out on the edge of your desk until you log out for the day and witness the extent of the damage.
Final stage: Memory loss. Your head feels foggy. Concentrating becomes a struggle, your thoughts sluggishly crawling through your mind and and ultimately losing their way. In the final stages of the illness, you may forget to log out for days at a time and wake to find yourself passed out on the floor with your headset jostled loose, inadvertently freeing you from the game.
The "cure," aside from a timely patch, may hide somewhere within the game. Before your senses leave you, you'd better start asking around.
As many of you know, it isn't easy to get ahold of CyberConnect when you need them. Hien is, at best, completely useless. Pete isn't much better. It's for these reasons and more that players have been invited to a digital conference and encouraged to give a voice to the rising concerns within the beta testing community.
The conference is to be held, both ICly and OOCly, on September 23rd at 12PM EST. If you have any burning questions to ask the people who hold power and influence over the state of the game and what happens within it, you can't afford to complain about timezones. This is your opportunity to speak your mind and have those questions answered.
OOCly, the conference will begin on September 23rd at 12PM EST and end on October 7th at 12PM EST. During this time, your characters can ask whatever questions they'd like of CyberConnect corporate staff, bring up concerns, and provide insights on their beta testing experiences.
Participation is mandatory (ICly), so set your alarms and don't be late!
Hello, everyone! Sorry I was away for a while. I got stuck in an outer level of the game and it took me a week to get back, but I should be just fine now! I hope I didn't miss anything too serious...
I did see that all of you have worked hard on those recipes, though! I liked all of them so much that I've added each of them into the game so that everyone can make their own. Congratulations!
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[ He squints. ]
... log out...?
[ His answer falters as if he's not sure why he's saying that in the first place. ]
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Sit up. Drink this. Can you still reach any of the menus?
[ And if Oria can't sit up at all, he can try to help him. He's been experiencing strange symptoms of his own, but nothing like this. ]
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[ But he doesn't want to sit up, and he promises it's not because he's being a brat. ]
... Right. My stomach hurts in the real world. That's why it's so hard to get up. It's weird, because I can't feel my arms right either.
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[ Just repeating that very calmly, even though he's not feeling very calm about it at all. He leans down to slide an arm under Oria's shoulders carefully. Perhaps slowly will be alright? ]
Were you sick? Or— [ No, he won't rush to conclusions. ] What happened?
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[ Yeah. Michel will be successful in sliding an arm under Oria's shoulders. ]
Mm... people take gambling really seriously. They didn't want me to talk about it.
[ Oria sounds spacey. ]
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Have you already been treated for it? You should be at a hospital, not online.
[ But Oria isn't careless... normally. If he weren't so disoriented, Michel would be substantially less alarmed. ]
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[ He feels so gone right know. ]
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[ He hopes he can keep reminding Oria. There's been enough of a pattern to the bugs so far that he doesn't doubt he'll start feeling those effects later. But he's not there quite yet. ]
Something important to someone here? Sinclair?
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[ He's glad Michel is here. Michel is being a good friend.
But there's a hint of confusion in his eyes. ]
Who... Who's Sinclair...?
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Vogel. ...Emil. Do you remember meeting him? At a party?
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[ Neither of those names stand out to him. A party? A business party? There was never anyone around his age at those--wait, how does he know that this Sinclair person is around his age?
...
Oria frowns. ]
... Sorry, my head hurts. It's hard to think.
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...Alright. Drink this first. I don't know if fake sugar will help, but it shouldn't make anything worse.
[ He'll try to help Oria with the juice, in the meantime. Maybe more inputs to the sensors here will trigger something. ]
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[ Since he's no longer lying down, he takes the juice and drinks it himself. It goes down well, much to Oria's relief. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like it does anything with visible changes. ]
... I don't remember why I came here, but it feels nostalgic, in a way.
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From the game, do you think? Or the real world?
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[ Funny how he remembers something so long ago, but he still can't remember something more recent and emotionally powerful, like Sinclair. ]
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How much older are your sisters? My brothers had outgrown that by the time I was big enough.
1/2
[ His parents were... busy... don't worry about it. ]
Aria is kinda... no, she's absolutely a ditz. Iri is... strict. She probably got that from mom.
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[ His voice trails off.
There was another one, wasn't there? The one whose shadow he's been living in despite not having been born at all. Imagine being haunted by someone who doesn't exist, and yet.
But...
Who?
Who was it?
Oria frowns. ]
... Never mind. That should be it.
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But she still played with the two of you. You must be close.
[ He hesitates to fill in that gap, though he can make a guess from Oria's memory. Is it better to leave it for when he's more steady? Or will that make the fraying memories fray faster? Michel opens his mouth and then pauses in indecision. ]
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[ ...
His voice trails off. It must be another secret or something that's a little too painful to say. But he seeks a distraction, so he looks at Michel. ]
What's wrong?
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Oria. Was that your brother's name originally? Or was it Satria?
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But he knows Michel doesn't mean to come across that way. He knows. He might not have known him for so long, but there's a level of trust between them now. ]
That name... is mine, and mine alone.
[ He quietly breathes out. The forced truth from the first stage is still in effect. ]
I use "Satria" as an alias sometimes. But even after all that, I never... liked my name.
[ He looks blankly ahead. ]
But it's mine.
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Then I won't use it again.
[ He doesn't even need the forced truth to prompt that one. For Oria, about this, he'll only be direct. ]
Do you like "Oria"? Or did you just... come to live with it? [ Like the rest. Even if it might or might not be his. ]
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[ Just one eye. If Michel saw photos in articles, Oria's mother is very pretty with shoulder length white hair, but she has a normal white medical eyepatch over her right eye. No one knows why. ]
But I also don't like gold. It's stupid, but I like silver better. I can't tell whether it's because of my preference or if it's some childish attempt at rebelling.
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[ As someone who also spends a tiresome amount of time dissecting his own emotions, unfolding them and categorizing them and tracing them, it's not as though he can't understand the impulse. But wherever the feeling began, the net result is the same. ]
...You're allowed to be a child. You are one. Even if you can only be one here.
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