"…Thanks," he said instead.
"No problem," the normal one replied. "Stick near the edges if you can't fight."
"I can fight," Ah'Ming said reflexively, then immediately regretted it.
They both looked at him again.
The mossy one smiled, slow and knowing. "Sure you can."
Above them, somewhere deep in the library, a clock began to tick louder.
The lights dimmed by a fraction.
The hour was getting close.
Though.
Instead of looking for clues though, like a smart person would, he leaned back over to them to ask more. Like, a not so smart person.
"Soooo. Are you able to access the forum in-game? Are you able to access the forum outside the game?"
They looked at him. He looked at them.
They gave up first.
"Are you seriously not able to? Everyone can?!"
Well.
That didn't sound very good.
Maybe it was another system glitch. A bug, maybe?
Shame.
Maybe there was a shop too! Imagine, a marketplace where you could buy a flamethrower. No! A magic flamethrower. A draconic flame thrower. With extra juice!
Oho! He couldn't wait.
Ah'Ming looked up at the two, just to see them inching away from him. What? Why? He had been perfectly polite this time! He hadn't even threatened them so why where they—
Oh.
Wait.
A player would be able to access the forums.
An NPC likely would not.
They probably thought he was an NPC, didn't they?
Oh dear! What if they told the others, and he was ostracized! Ah'Ming needed friends, he was an extrovert at heart! Actually, not really. He hated talking much. But, he liked having friends that would talk for him.
Just like how if someone messed up your orders in a McDonald's, and then you could have a big, strong friend go up to demand the order fixed. What a hero! A hero that Ah'Ming might not be able to get…. Because of them.
It was ok, he'd just have to nip it in the bud during the shadow time!
Ah'Ming read the clock again, noting how it was close to quarter to. He crept back away from the main group, heading back to the thick maze of shelves. Mm. Now that he thought about it, the dusty smell didn't bother him so much. It was rather nice, even.
Once the people were out of sight, he smacked a hand on a shelf, testing the structural integrity. One smack, then a second. Pretty sound actually!
Ah'Ming would respect a good shelf.
Grabbing onto the highest shelf he could reach, which was about halfway up with a little hop, he swung himself to the top, perching on it like a weird bird. If a bird could have arms and legs. Did birds have arms?
Maybe he was more like Spiderman then.
The people looked pretty tiny from here, Ah'Ming noticed. They scurried about, with a main table covered in documents. What they were, he couldn't even begin to fathom.
Clues? Wow, the people must have been very dedicated to searching if they'd already found so much.
He looked over them. They looked like ants.
It was almost a funny subversion.
From up here, the library looked different.
Corridors branched away between shelves like ribs, narrow passages bending out of sight. Little archways and doorframes hid in corners, half-swallowed by books. Some led down. Some led nowhere obvious at all.
As the clock ticked, some people started counting, softly. Under their breaths. Almost like a little reassurance that they knew what to do, that they were in control.
It was pretty funny to watch.
Ah'Ming looked around, noting some other corridors and little gateways that led away. Something glinted, just a little over there. He leaned closer, trying to peer into a door in the corner. It wasn't that clear though. Shame.
His vision always hadn't been the best, being able to track motion from hundreds of meters away, yet never being able to see anything else about it. Not color, not detail.
Not to say it wasn't good, though.
He leaned just a little bit further… it was almost in sight….
And then he had to catch himself before he fell off.
As Ah'Ming scrabbled to stay atop the shelf like the king of the shelf he was, the lights shut off.
Not dimmed.
Not flickered.
Gone.
The lamps across the library died in unison, plunging everything into a thick, swallowing dark. The kind of darkness that felt textured, like it had weight.
Someone below screamed.
Another voice shouted for quiet and immediately regretted it.
The ticking of the grandfather clock boomed through the space, suddenly enormous.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Ah'Ming froze.
From his perch, he could still see motion.
Shadows peeled themselves off the shelves.
Not creatures exactly. More like absences shaped roughly like people, stretching and folding as they moved. They slid along the floor, climbed the tables, clung to walls where light had once lived.
One passed directly beneath him.
It paused.
The shadow tilted its head, as if sniffing. Its edges rippled, reacting to something he couldn't see.
Fear, he realized.
Noise. Fear.
Below, someone ran.
The shadows surged.
He watched patterns form.
They moved toward panic. Toward motion. Toward the loudest regrets. Made sense. Bomber units did too. So did soldiers and runners.
The center of the library exploded into chaos.
And in the darkness, very faintly, that door in the corner glinted again.
Ah'Ming's gaze flicked between the chaos below and the faint, patient glint in the corner.
Help… or answers.
The sensible part of his brain whispered that the shiny thing was probably important. Plot-relevant. Possibly life-saving in the long term. Also. Shiny. Shiny was a very important factor to factor in. That was why it was called a factor.
The rest of him sighed.
"…Fine," he muttered. "I'll be good. Temporarily."
Though the two stupid people had gotten on his nerves, possibly alienating him in the future, he couldn't help but admit that they had helped him by answering questions. He'd protect their stupid base camp, just a little, not much, and maybe or maybe not getting rid of them if he had the chance.
He stayed on the shelf.
Not charging in. Not grandstanding. Just… present.
He would be a good person this time. He would stay and defend. Not really defend though, since he'd only kill the ones that would attack him first, but it should reduce the burden on the rest, albeit briefly. A couple of shadows looked up at him as they wandered, wondering if he was an easy target.
A deterrent.
Shadows drifted, testing the edges of the space. A few passed beneath him and then recoiled, their forms warping sharply, like smoke meeting heat. They pulled back, uncertain, offended.
Ah'Ming frowned.
"Huh."
It was annoying, to fight things that had a modicum of intelligence. He greatly preferred stupid things that could only run. Like pigs. Pigs were great. They tasted good, and they were stupid.
Others slowed, their movements cautious now, as if they'd brushed against something they didn't understand.
Then one shadow looked up at him and made a decision.
It didn't recoil.
What a brave little idiot, Ah'Ming almost cooed. The little shadow was so, so brave.
Its shape tightened, edges sharpening, hunger compressing into intent. It began to climb, slow and deliberate, dragging itself up the shelf supports like it was savoring the anticipation.
Ah'Ming felt the rest of the library recede. Excitement thrummed in his veins, singing a little song that brought the rest of him to life.
The shouting. The running. The ticking clock. All of it faded into a distant hush, like someone had turned the volume down on the world.
He watched the shadow approach.
It wanted him afraid. Wanted the tremor, the hesitation, the flinch. If it was like he suspected, the monsters probably fed on fear. Like Dracula.
Why else would all the NPCs so far be so stupidly scary?
It was funny though, knowing that the little, itty bitty creatures wanted him scared.
He licked his lips instead.
The brave little shadow surged.
Ah'Ming moved, a little forwards, a little to the left.
His hand shot forward, flesh rippling and splitting without pain, fingers elongating into something hooked and blackened, claws catching the shape of the thing mid-lunge. He drove his arm straight through its chest. It was silky. It was oh, so fun. After such a long time of— No! No homicidal thoughts! Amanda The Therapist talked about this. No finding dead things fun.
Otherwise, she'd be therapissed.
He snickered.
The shadow screamed.
A sound came, like tearing silk and shattering glass layered together, high and furious.
Then it came apart.
The darkness unraveled around his arm, fraying into nothing, dissolving into the air like breath in winter.
Gone.
Completely.
Ah'Ming blinked.
"…That's it?"
Nothing dropped. No core. No residue. No neat little reward. Not even like, a level up or EXP gained? Maybe players weren't meant to kill NPCs or something.
Weird.
He pulled his arm back, watching as the claws melted away, skin smoothing over until his hand was once again ordinary. Pink. Human. Slightly trembling now that the moment had passed.
"…Huh," he repeated.
It was sooo hard, using this new ability. He needed to keep a tight, tight grasp on it at all times.
He turned his attention back to the library.
From his vantage point, he could see everything.
The shadows skirting wide around him now. The way his presence carved out a thin, invisible buffer in the dark. People stumbling through it, gasping, surviving by accident as the creatures diverted away. Hehe, idiots.
Lights stayed off.
No phone screens. No emergency torches. Nothing.
Funky.
Ah'Ming was pretty sure that most humans couldn't see in the dark. Maybe they were like a master earth bender or something. Maybe they were blind?
He did wonder why nobody was smart enough to light something.
Were they that stupid? Or maybe he was just that smart.
He nodded.
And then remembered the system rating of his intelligence.
…
Fine.
Maybe it was against the rules.
Maybe the shadows ate light.
Maybe the system just enjoyed watching people panic in the dark.
The clock kept ticking.
And somewhere, unseen, the viewer count ticked upward too.