⬣//GROWING WILDLY OUT OF CONTROL.

[cccorp]

>>Gathering // >>Waiting // >>Can't Return // >>It's Real

⬣//STERILE WHITE WALLS

September 23rd—conference day. In the hours preceding the meeting, beta testers are supplied with information on how to access the virtual conference room and offered a set of conduct guidelines. Testers are urged to read them thoroughly and instructed to sign their name on the bottom of the page to confirm that they’ve read and understand the following guidelines:

1. All questions will be addressed. Do not interrupt speakers or other beta testers when they are asking questions or having their questions answered.

2. Conduct yourself professionally and appropriately. Do not curse, shout, or otherwise engage in disruptive behavior. Violators will be muted and their speaking privileges revoked.

3. No eating or drinking. Keep your virtual space clean and free of debris.

4. Remain seated. Excessive movement or inappropriate behavior will result in restriction of your avatar’s movements.

5. PvP is disabled in the conference room. Weapons cannot be drawn and your Fragment inventory is unavailable during the duration of the conference.

Players are generously allowed one hour to filter in and find their seats, review the guidelines, and discuss the questions they’ve prepared with their fellow beta testers.

⬣//THE LOW RUMBLE OF DISTANT THUNDER

One hour comes and goes. The room remains occupied only by the beta participants, CyberConnect Corporation’s flashy logo spinning idly on the conference room’s 80 inch display. Restlessness begins to settle in, idle chatter turning to frustration as one hour becomes two. Still, no one from the Corporation shows.

The conference room remains devoid of purpose, some forty-odd people sitting alone in a sterile conference room, a locked room, should anyone grow so restless they try to leave. Any attempts made to break doors and windows will fail.

The door is locked, as are the windows, the world beyond their stark white blinds a slurry of purple and black. Thunder crackles in that dark, endless void. Even if you could leave, where would you go?

⬣//TORRENTIAL RAINS

It’s painfully evident after three hours of silence that no one from CyberConnect is showing up to the conference, but you knew that already, didn’t you? This mandatory meeting was fishy from the start, some would argue, while others may yet hold out hope.

That ends the instant anyone tries to log out and leave. Everyone who attempts to leave will be met with the same error Shoka was some weeks ago, but this time, the error is permanent. This time, there is no connection between mind and body anymore, and any attempt to “reach” your real self will fail.

You feel no one on the other end. You no longer feel the weight of your headset on your head or the keyboard beneath your fingertips. All your worldly aches and pains have drifted away only to find you here in your new reality, every sensation so real that Fragment no longer feels like just a game. Fragment is reality.

Three hours pass from the start of the conference. The boring white walls and rickety office chairs shudder and shake and give way to the Mac Anu everyone knows. You’re back where you started, more or less. What you do from here is up to you.

⬣//LOST TO THE TUMULT AND BEDLAM

Some menus remain online. Players retain the ability to send and receive friend and party requests, access their inventories, spells, and weapons, and so on, but a few notable items are missing.

Players can no longer toggle their pain sensors on and off. Every blow you take is one you’re forced to suffer through, and what’s more, your health no longer automatically regenerates when idle. You’d better keep a stash of potions or a pocket healer handy.

While you’re at it, try not to die. The sharp-eyed among the group may notice that the respawn information nestled in the menus is no longer accessible to them. The respawn counter now reads as a series of zeros instead of the typical 20 minutes. Now is probably not the best time to continue testing Fragment’s death mechanics, but nothing’s stopping you from trying. No one’s going to save you, either.

Good luck, players. The real test has begun.

>>Navigation

Comments

[dissimulative]

[ Oria grins. It sure is just a game, and Oria delivers more headshots while reloading quickly with a flick of his wrist (game controls) and with Sinclair's help, the boss is defeated! Congrats on clearing arcade mode!

He seems satisfied with that, so he pulls Sinclair in closer and tighter into the jacket. Now they can be like a 2-in-1 Swadloon except happier. ]

Warm to the brim of my love for you~

[ He laughs a little and gives a small kiss to Sinclair's ear. ]

I know I look good, but hearing it from you? It's the best.

[insinning]

[ With him pressed this close, Sinclair automatically winds his arms around Oria in turn, humming with contentment, despite Oria's outrageous remark. He blushes a little more, and he presses a light kiss to Oria's cheek]

Oh. Mm. I'll say it earlier next time then.

[Oria's confidence is so natural, he hadn't really thought Oria wanted to hear it]

[dissimulative]

You don't have to be afraid of my ego blowing up, so feel free to say it as much as you like!

[ Haha.

Ha.

Ah... Oria would like to stay like this, but they're still technically out in public, even if inside a booth. He's fine with PDA, but sometimes he wants precious moments like this to be just between them and only them. ]

Wanna go back?

[insinning]

[ Sinclair isn't afraid but other people might be]

Yeah. Let's go back.

[ His heart feels steady again. And...he wants to be with Oria and only Oria. Staying here might mean being confronted by people he doesn't want to confront]

[dissimulative]

Then let's go!

[ He'd love to just take Sinclair like this but that means they would have to waddle the entire time, and he's not very keen on showing other people that. So. The two will normally walk back.

Also, I completely forgot that private guild rooms could have an access list, so Oria will definitely make himself at home in Sinclair's room now if he has that activated. Once inside, Oria drags Sinclair to the bed and immediately cuddles with him after bringing him into his jacket again. This time, Sinclair might as well be sitting on Oria's lap as he does. ]

[insinning]

[Sinclair absolutely activated that just for Oria whoops. Anyway, Sinclair gives a small yelping laugh as he's pulled down into the bed so he just makes himself comfortable on Oria's lap. This is nice]

You're having too much fun with this.

[dissimulative]

I am! And I will keep having fun with this.

[ Keeping Sinclair swaddled in the big jacket with him is nice and he thinks Sinclair feels at peace too. He doesn't want to ruin the moment, but he still wants to ask about what happened...

...

Ah, it's too late. Sinclair must have noticed the hesitation as he usually does. He's so good at picking up nonverbal cues like this. ]

Emil, you already know, but... When something is too much, or if you want to be comforted, I'll be here. I want to help you too.

[insinning]

[ Sinclair had known from the beginning Oria wanted to ask. So he tightens his hold around Oria, letting himself be comforted]

Mmm. You always have.[ What had started it? This tangle of feelings, this restlessness? ] From the moment we met here.

[dissimulative]

... Yeah.

[ He pulls Sinclair closer, letting him rest his head on his shoulder. ]

I was worried, you know? I want to make you happy too, but I want it to last.

[ Even if nothing lasts forever, Oria thinks it would give Sinclair some reprieve so that he's not constantly bogged by everything that life has in store for him. But he wonders if that's the issue. He can't get rid of the problem at its core, but at the same time he'd like to respect Sinclair's decision to make it for himself. He doesn't need to be babied. Oria has enough respect for Sinclair to stick with that. ]

... Even longer than usual.

[insinning]

[Ah. He closes his eyes and buries his face into Oria's shoulder, breathing in his scent. Warm. Clean. Familiar and safe ]

I want this to last forever too. Like this, it feels like it could

[ Everything else feels so far away. But now]

...I didn't realise how much I couldn't remember until recently.

[dissimulative]

... What do you mean?

[ He knows that Sinclair was sedated, but memory wiping? He's suddenly worried about this being another game thing or if this was something else. ]

[insinning]

I've been blocking it out, I think. Between the medicine and everything...I guess it just hit me hard?

[ He's avoiding the topic of his conversation with Mithrun, the renewed fears...]

[dissimulative]

... Yeah. Of course it would.

[ He gently leans his head against the side of Sinclair's and lightly rubs his back to try and be comforting. That sure is more PTSD that Sinclair is suffering through... Damn. ]

I'm still sorry that even happened to you. It shouldn't have happened.

[ That's why he tried to offer the hit, but now he can't even do that until he gets out of here. ]

[insinning]

Thank you.

[He closes his eyes. It's hard not to question what he had done to deserve it sometimes. The guilt had yet to ebb let alone fade]

...I got some weird texts the morning of the conference.

[dissimulative]

[ ...

Oria would usually jokingly say it's from a secret admirer akin to a stalker, but that only makes him think of Kromer. He's making a pretty scary face right now when Sinclair can't see it. ]

Was it her?

[insinning]

There's no one else...

[ He's exhausted. He traces idle patterns on Oria's back. He doesn't have to see his face to know he's angry]

I can count on one hand who outside of work has my current number. I thought I could deal with it after the conference, make sure...

[dissimulative]

... Do you remember what she said? In those texts.

[ It's not fair to Sinclair. The longer this goes on, Oria wants to kill her himself just to let Sinclair finally be at peace, but he also understands what it's like to have the chance of revenge taken away from you. There's only one life. You can't simulate it again. You can't recreate the feeling of having someone you hate so much die in your very grip-- ]

[insinning]

'Merry Christmas'.

[ That was the first one at least. He just keeps leaning against Oria, focusing on him instead of the hatred burning in his heart]

[dissimulative]

[ Oria pries Sinclair's hands from his back from under the jacket so that he can hold both of them tightly with his own, fingers lacing. He wants Sinclair to hold onto these hands just as firmly to help ground him. ]

[insinning]

There were more. Things about my family. My parents.

[He squeezes Oria's hands tightly and he shudders]

It didn't end until Don took my phone. No matter how often I blocked one number...

[dissimulative]

Mm. Yeah... you're right, Emil.

[ Oria is so, so angry. Sinclair can be angry on his own. He's had every right. But this? Harassing him like this? Inflicting him pain like this? Because she's so fascinated by him and won't let up until every member of the Sinclair family dies and the last one that she's so "fond" of suffers under her? Because of what they were known for?

His voice goes cold. There is no warmth in the tone, snd it's the voice he uses when he truly lets go of empathy for the moment alone. ]

I think she should die.

[insinning]

[Something cuts through the haze, and the words ring crystal clear in Sinclair's head, bright and loud. He glances up, hands still squeezing Oria's, unwilling to let go]

... Oria?

[Questioning . Soft. Like he's not sure what it means to see Oria this angry]

[dissimulative]

[ His blue eyes shine bright as they always do, but their usual glint that is reflected by his usual chipper teen self seems as if it's been replaced by an extremely sharp knife that's just itching to be used for the purpose of stabbing people. ]

If I can't find a hit, I'll make sure she suffers thoroughly to the point that she'll wish she died instead. You don't deserve any of this. No matter what you believe you did, this is something that you should never feel that you deserve.

[insinning]

[ He's never quite seen Oria's eyes like this. He lets out a short, quiet breath, and rests his head against Oria's shoulder again. ]

...I feel like I'm supposed to say something to stop you. [Soft, wondering. He's not good enough of a person though] But thank you. For being here.

[dissimulative]

... I want you to be happy.

[ Some warmth returns to his voice, no longer cold and sharp like a serrated knife. He quietly breathes out and squeezes their hands. ]

You're my Emil. No one else's. And if you're mine, you deserve to be happy. I won't let anybody let you think otherwise.