Episode 16. I Picked C. (3)
“A world without players...”
It wasn't a phrase that was hard to imagine. A world where players didn't exist, and thus none of the events tied to them ever occurred. It seemed peaceful, even appealing—but it was no different from saying he wanted to rewind just a few weeks.
“Was it that tough for you?”
“Tough... No, not quite to that point yet.”
“Yet?”
“Yeah, not yet.”
They had been extraordinary events. Not enough to look back on as numerous or grueling hardships, though. If anything, there had been an unexpected enjoyment that made him hesitate to even frame it that way. Things hadn't gone as badly as he'd feared so far.
But what comes after?
Aiden's gaze turned to events a little further down the line. What if players kept multiplying by the dozens with these short intervals? What if even stronger ones arrived, heedless of the damage they caused?
Or...
Like all games of amusement, every diversion had an end. If the once-docile players grew bored and abandoned this place, what Aiden would witness would be no different from the dream he'd seen that day.
Both he himself and Claire standing before him now would simply vanish.
“Aaaah...”
Claire stretched her arms out wide, yawning. Was her body stiff from sitting so long, or was she just bored with this moment? With no more to discuss, Aiden rose slightly and extended a hand to her.
It was a signal that they'd rested enough and it was time to wrap things up.
“Huh?”
But Claire didn't catch on right away. Aiden hadn't said a word, after all. Unsure what the gesture meant, she blinked a few times.
Then—thunk.
She plopped her chin right onto his palm. From her neck up to her jaw filled his hand as she stared straight into his eyes.
“What're you doing?”
“Why'd you stick your hand out, mister?”
“To help you up?”
“How am I supposed to know from just a hand? Idiot?”
He knew she wasn't seriously suggesting this kind of play, of course. As she lifted her head again, Aiden steered back to the topic.
“We're going to check on the players we've kept alive. Want to come?”
“Huh? Already...? No, sure. I've got some locked up too.”
The players he'd left in her care, since he had no sure way to restrain them. Burying them alive was a shocking idea no matter how he spun it, but it meant zero worries on that front.
“Guess we'll have to hunt them down one by one...”
“Eh, hehe...”
Claire let out an awkward laugh, as if annoyed at the extra hassle. For the same reason, she was on her feet faster than Aiden, who'd stood first.
“C'mon, follow me! I remember where they all are.”
They had others to bring along too.
* * *
The first spot where they'd buried a player. Claire squatted down and brushed the dirt atop it with her hand. It wasn't sweltering, but the sun blazed, so the sand felt hotter than expected against her skin.
Well, it wasn't a real live burial, so it couldn't have been that agonizing.
“Hmm...”
She glanced back at Aiden and Sephirah watching her, then faced forward again. Squatting over bare dirt, fiddling with sand—didn't she look like a total kid? To preserve some dignity when no one seemed to care, she hurried into action.
But...
“...Where is he?”
“Claire?”
“Uh, mister... the player's gone.”
The players who should have stayed sunk into the earth by her spell were nowhere in sight. She'd have sensed resistance, and an escape would have left dug-up traces. Yet the players had vanished without a single mark.
“This is where we were together, right?”
“Yeah. If I got the spot wrong, fine, but this is definitely it...?”
“Fast travel?”
It was the obvious first guess. Aiden could freely shift positions outside combat, so of course players could do it even easier.
“Sephirah.”
“Yeah?”
“If you'd been buried, could you fast travel out?”
“Creepy question... When I was buried, you mean.”
Sephirah, who'd been spacing out, mulled it over. If it was quest-related burial, no. That was the only context for it anyway.
But quests didn't exist in the game anymore...
“Never tried it myself, but probably? Hard to pin down exactly...”
“What if their wrists were bound, or they were unconscious?”
“Wrists same deal. But do players even pass out? Doubt it.”
“Got it.”
As Sephirah said, even blindfolded, gagged, and wrapped head to toe, fast travel couldn't be blocked. If he wanted physical restraints to stop it, he'd have to stay in combat perpetually—or give up.
If I keep them in combat, maybe they can't even flee.
If fast travel was how they'd escaped, that was an oversight. A mistaken assumption that immobilization would block it too.
But if there were truly no countermeasures, he wouldn't have left them be from the start.
Aiden scanned the disappearance site again in Focus mode.
Tsssh...
All bright colors inverted, edges blurred. Human shapes in blue, himself in white, footprints in red. This system highlighted key details and distinguished friend from foe—it could track anywhere they'd fled. Handprints, fast travel traces, anything.
“...Nothing.”
So why was there zilch?
Claire had said they'd vanished without a trace. Spot on—no clues to their movements anywhere. At best, faint old combat footprints from ages ago.
“Whatcha doing? Focus scan?”
“Yeah.”
“Pfft, that won't show where players went.”
“What?”
Aiden whipped around at Sephirah's baffling words. Focus was what let him track her—how could it fail on players?
“What's up?”
“...Nothing. Can't see a thing.”
But he let the discrepancy slide for now. He hadn't found anything regardless.
What's going on here?
The three cocked their heads, seeking an answer they hadn't found yet. Whatever the trick, new players blind to the 'session' couldn't fool them.
“Logged out?”
Another possibility Sephirah raised caught Aiden's ear.
“Logged out?”
“Yeah. When you're done, you dip back to our world for a bit... like sleeping.”
Aiden tapped his lips.
“If coming and going's that easy, restraining players is pointless.”
“Nah. If they log out buried, they'll log back in buried.”
“So not fast travel escape, then...”
As Claire said. No traces of travel or breakout, even on recheck. Combat lock or not, if they'd left this world briefly, Claire's binding held on return. Hard to chat mid-vacation, but effectively still interred.
“Uh, so what about the ones still trapped?”
Sephirah eyed the ground. If 'buried' was literal, they couldn't budge—like beach sand swallowing your body. Unaware why, to them it must feel like logging in for an event after ages, only to get struck by lightning.
“Kinda feel bad for 'em now...”
And the event lure was a ploy—no prizes anyway. Sephirah felt a tiny pang of guilt toward her scheme's victim.
Tiny.
“Yeah. Can't dig 'em out now.”
“No talking till they return.”
“Eeeh... I wait and pull 'em out when they log back?”
“When?!”
Claire tossed more ideas—her waiting, someone else, excavating spots—but none viable without return timelines.
“Ugh, tricky. Gotta get 'em out eventually.”
“About that, Sephirah.”
Aiden spoke up calmly. Had a solution dawned?
“What if we don't?”
“...Huh?”
Sephirah froze mid-lean. Then came Aiden's elaboration.
“Being trapped doesn't kill players, right?”
“Right...? They don't even breathe.”
“So left like this, they're invisible, immobile. Alive.”
“What, like sealed or something?”
Aiden smiled faintly at her joke.
“Exactly. Sealed, literally.”
“Waaah... No, waa...”
Sephirah pointed accusingly, agape. Oddly, it struck her as a solid idea too. Trapped with no self-escape, they'd log off—and occupy a slot out of 128.
“Sounds good! Permanently cuts their numbers by one!”
“Feasible?”
“Yup, just leave 'em. No upkeep drain.”
Claire had buried about five. Randomly selected or not, they'd hog 'capacity' indefinitely. A lucky backpedal hit, but now a permanent player cull method.
“Do this from now on? Keep till numbers stop rising, crisis over.”
“No, players multiply too easily—won't solve it long-term.”
“Guys, guys...?”
Sephirah peeked in cautiously, hands clasped like they might ignore her.
“What's up?”
“I'm all for it, but... isn't it kinda inhumane...?”
“What is?”
“Don't play dumb! That's live burial?!”
“Not torturing them or anything.”
As long as not criminal intent? Claire silently backed Aiden too, naturally. Chasing off was harsh; this seemed merciful, almost.
Or not...
Sephirah glanced down involuntarily, then stopped. The image of eternal entombment lingered, intent and outcome be damned.
“Hey, guys...”
“Yeah?”
“Guess our mindsets are bound to differ.”
“Obviously?”
“...Yeah.”
Different worldviews? Or like players ignoring NPC morals, NPCs ignoring players'? Sephirah felt a nagging unease.
