FOR THEY CANNOT DIE ANYMORE, BECAUSE THEY ARE EQUAL TO ANGELS.

[cccorp]

Today, the canals of Mac Anu flow as gentle as they always do, gondolas drifting lazy through the paths of sunlight cut bright across the water. Shops and vendors line the stonework streets along the waterways, a general murmur of NPCs circulating through their preprogrammed business keeping Mac Anu, as always, feeling maybe a little more alive than a real city.

There is one particular bridge that nearly every player's taken at least once, because it connects to a great many other places of interest, and it's wide enough for easy travel. Besides, with the professions update, they've put a fishing spot on the other side of it. NPCs with fishing rods litter the spot in alternating shifts, their laughter mingling with the calls of shopkeeps advertising cheap prices for some simple plants to get started crafting with, and the clink of forks and plates at a restaurant nearby, its customers singing the chef praises.

Below the bridge, a gondolier passes, humming, his gondola drifting along its circuit through the canals, his tune in rhythm with the passing conversation. As he comes out from under it and sails further away, he glances up at the bridge, as if he were expecting something, and he seems to see it. His gaze remains fixed there until, eventually, the water takes him out of sight again.

Today, you might notice that at the base of this bridge, just before your feet, is a red sort of smear.

A little further down the bridge, about a fourth of the way along it, is a person collapsed on the ground. The red trails to him, fallen forward.

You see upon approaching his hand grasping at his throat at the singularly cut sliced deep into his neck. His one good eye wide and unblinking, he is—among all the laughter and conversation on either side of the bridge; in the shadow of the clock tower, which stands a silent witness, the sun at its back—no longer breathing, his body cool to the touch.

Perhaps this could be considered a kindness: for one who failed, time and time and again, to grasp the desire to live, maybe he found some suggestion of it in his last moments, his hand at his throat, his palm smeared with dried blood, a curious anomaly in the deathless Mac Anu. Fragment had, after all, taught him a great many things. Should he not be grateful for one more, no matter how permanent the lesson?

Mithrun is dead.

Comments

WELCOME.

[cccorp]

Welcome to your first (and only, hopefully) investigation! As detailed above, our buddy Mithrun is dead. If you think about it, the chances of him dying were pretty high, so try not to feel too sad. Flirting with death comes with its share of downsides, including actually dying for realsies.

Mithrun's death will be followed by an in-game investigation that will occur over the course of one week from 9/2/23 until 9/9/23. To give everyone a chance to digest the mystery of Mithrun's death and contribute their own theories and speculation, new clues and evidence will be issued on a daily basis.

The investigation schedule is as follows:

SATURDAY: Mithrun's body is discovered. Hien has erected a barrier around Mithrun's body to prevent crime scene contamination. See the 'SATURDAY' toplevel below for available clues.

SUNDAY through TUESDAY: The barrier is removed and players will be allowed to interact with Mithrun's corpse. A mod will be on hand to answer specific questions regarding Mithrun's injuries.

WEDNESDAY: NPC testimonials will become available.

THURSDAY thru FRIDAY: Circumstantial evidence and further clues become available, constructing a timeline of the events that lead to Mithrun's demise.

SATURDAY: A Viking burial at sea. It's what he would have wanted (citation needed).

SATURDAY

[cccorp]

• Mithrun's body lies collapsed on the bridge, as if he fell forward on the spot. His corpse is surrounded by a barrier.
• Muddled trail of blood from the Chaos Gate to Mithrun's corpse. Can only be seen from a distance at this time due to barrier.
• Injuries that can be seen from a distance: leaf lacerations, burns, bruises, deep cut on neck
• It is impossible to cross the barrier in any way whatsoever.

[dissimulative]

[ It's been over an hour.

Seeing Mithrun's avatar dead in some shape or form is unfortunately not new, so Oria waited.

And waited...

And waited. ]

Why isn't his avatar disappearing...? It's been more than an hour. He can't be sleeping like that, is he?

[ He's dead, Jim.

Oria knows a dead person when he sees one, but man. Man. ]

[tinged]

[ half an hour, an hour, more. the silent adagio of hani's heart keeps time for the breaths they aren't taking.

there's nothing. just nothing. hani presses their hand against the barrier and nothing happens. no matter how long their gaze lingers on mithrun, nothing. no movement, no spark in their eye. he wants for nothing now in this game. (...and outside of it?)

if hien's still around after erecting the barrier, hani only has one question to ask, low and toneless. it's a wonder that words can form from the nothingness within them. ]

... Do you have an answer now?

[ they stay long enough to memorize the scene, each detail burned into their mind like a brand. their lovely robes turn red, red, red, red - the color of devotion. ]

[murrmoire]

[ Bro he literally just got here. He literally just fucking got to this MMO, what the hell is this – ]

...This isn't how things were before, were they?

[dissimulative]

If you were PKed, you would usually respawn half an hour later at the Chaos Gate. The only exception to this is the Arena in Lumina Cloth, because that's specifically meant for PvP. It only takes a minute and you would respawn right outside the Arena if you get PKed inside.

[ So, no. They were not this way. ]

[trollophoroi]

[ This feels... strange. Like everyone else, seeing Mithrun dead on a street somewhere isn't a new sight but the barrier, the administrator, the way it doesn't despawn. Fandaniel merely stands there a time, watching Hien, watching whoever else comes by, but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't interact.

After that time, he simply leaves. He has other places to be. ]

[murrmoire]

[ He can conclude that PKed = getting killed, and that things are not fine as they are right now. He can't look at Mithrun's body, so he keeps his gazed fixed on Oria instead. ]

So this is the first time it's happened. [ What the fuck. ] Is there really no one in charge we can talk to about this?

[selfconcept]

[ Does he? Hien has been standing outside the barrier, making sure that no one tries to cross it or do anything unruly here. He's in his usual grim reaper-like outfit with the hood up to obscure most of his face.

With no emotion, he speaks up: ]

I decided that's something you will have to figure out for yourself.

[ Or they can stop playing entirely. Either way, that's not his decision to make for anyone. ]

[selfconcept]

[ He's right here.

Also Oria will just pointedly glance over at Hien for Noe to see. There's the guy. Oria doesn't want to talk to Hien. ]

[murrmoire]

[ HELLO, SIR, NICE TO MEET YOU. ]

Hey...is he gonna be okay? I'm not talking about in here, I'm talking about in real life.

[ Just. Making sure. ]

[selfconcept]

No comment.

[ It's never nice to meet this guy. ]

[tinged]

[ ah. that's fine. hani doesn't mind anything right now. ]

I already have my answer.

[ they'll keep playing. ]

Thank you. [ automatic. ] I hope you can find your own answer, if you haven't already.

[secondthoughts]

[ What the fuck.

This doesn't make any sense. It's just a video game, but... Shouldn't his body be despawned by now? Why is he being cordoned off like it's an actual crime scene?

Was he left alone? Why wasn't anyone watching after him? Hector knows, from the few times they've interacted, that Mithrun would walk into lava of his own volition. That's not to blame him for this, no. But wasn't someone around to help? What about the other kids he's seen him hanging around? Where were they?

It's too bad he doesn't know who Mithrun's friends are. Otherwise, he'd be pestering them with question.

A helpless feeling crawls into his throat, accompanied by red-hot fury, and he whirls on his heel to punch the nearest wall. The stone hurts. But who cares.

Hector hangs around for a bit, mostly pacing in frustration, before he ultimately leaves. ]

[selfconcept]

Then I hope your answer will suit your needs.

[ But will Hien's suit his own? He doesn't know.

Perhaps it will be relevant later, but to him, it doesn't feel like it is now.

A shame, since he would have liked to fight Mithrun at least once. ]

[aphonik]

[ This feels-

weird.

An uncomfortable sort of weird. Normally, he wouldn't even give a shit- he didn't even like the guy. Hated him, even, if he was being generous. It's why his face scrunches in an unreadable way as he looks from the edge of that stupid barrier, stares at the red smearing at the street and feeling a twisting in his gut.

Some dark part of him says he shouldn't be too surprised. That the older man really didn't know how to shut his mouth, and he probably just mouthed off to the wrong person. But the rest of him is feeling just...nauseous. He lets himself look for a few more moments, before he twists his gaze to the side, digging his boots into the dirt. ]

...Fucking idiot.

[ It's small, raspy, like a ghost of a whisper. But then Dosei turns on his heel and leaves, quickly, before he has to see anybody else. He really doesn't want to see somebody freak out right now. ]

[murrmoire]

Because you don't know?

[ no, no it's not, he's realizing- ]

[insinning]

[Sinclair knows a dead person when he sees one too.

He feels calm. Too calm.]

...he's not answering.

[Sinclair had logged off after twenty minutes had clocked out - or had it been more than that? How long had Mithrun really been there? And then...he hadn't stopped messaging him. Calling. It all goes to voicemail. And now he's back, strange. Dissonant.]

[dissimulative]

... Yeah.

[ Oria decided that they waited long enough and straightens his back to stand properly. ]

I need to talk to you, actually. I'll call you in about ten minutes. Is that a good time?

[insinning]

[The moment Sinclair had known for sure, for himself, that the half hour respawn time had counted down (half an hour, one hour, more), he had logged off. There had been a series of messages. Calls.

Nothing.

Some time passes before he gives up.

So he returns to Mac Anu, to the barrier, and waits.

And waits. His gaze fixed on Mithrun's corpse, as if he could learn something by it alone.]

[insinning]

...yeah. That's fine. [He squeezes his wrist a little. Awareness. Grounding himself.

This is a game. And Mithrun--]

[dissimulative]

[ He's not going to lie and say things are fine, because it's not. But he'll give Sinclair's hands a strong squeeze and a smile before logging out. ]

[gluttoning]

[It's late. Around 8pm PST, long after the body has gone cold, that Misteaks stumbles into Mac Anu, audibly out of breath as though he'd physically run to get his headset on.

He finds the crowd. He finds the barrier. He sees the red and the body and the nails on a chalkboard--]

Morgan...

[There's a frantic tone to how the name slips out, a fragility. The body doesn't answer. It's too far.

His raw fist slams onto the barrier, his eyes wide and pained.]

Morgan! Get up!!

Get up!!!

[Get up from the dunk tank get up from the ocean get up from the onsen get up before you--

The blood's soaked into the cobble. The concrete. The chest isn't moving. He isn't crying anymore.

Misteaks is.

He will punch the barrier a few more times, over and over, crying out like a dog calling out for a master that won't come home, asking and begging for movement from a dead body until his voice grows hoarse.

His fists hurts. His throat hurts.

His heart hurts so deeply.

MR MISTEAKS HAS LOGGED OUT]

[insinning]

[And Sinclair follows suit. He'll sit in his room in the dark, waiting for a call from someone who will answer.

It's not fine. But he wants to hear Oria's voice beyond the confines of this game. Something real.]

[threatmewted]

[She logs in expecting the game to be the same usual suspects, but instead is greeted by a trail of blood and people in apparent mourning, and... inexplicably, a battered body surrounded by a barrier.]

...What happened?

[Her voice is harsh, but unusually urgent.]