Tamara's giant winged cat was the most comfortable seat Alan had ever sat on. The fluffy fur was impossibly soft, like a living cloud. Even the cranky Jason wasted no time sprawling out across the orange fur, trying miserably to appear serene.
A vast blue mantle soon embraced them. The clouds were close enough to touch with an outstretched hand. And below, Eurola's green fields opened all the way to the horizon.
Windexeter Town was nowhere to be seen now, and yet Alan felt he could backtrack all the way to his starting point if needed.
I'm sorry, Isabella II. We're growing farther apart with every passing day.
He glanced at Bella, the new NPC who had embarked on his quest, and sighed.
I should report back as soon as I can.
"Something on your mind, Alan?" Tamara turned to him, her hands firmly on the cat's reins.
"Sorry. Were you saying something?"
"Ah, it's nothing." She smiled warmly and familiar. "We'll get to Londorus in no time, don't worry. In the meantime, why don't you grab a snack?"
There was a tray in the center of the group holding a bowl of nachos that Jason was already raiding by the fistful, alongside a selection of soft drinks. Alan tried a lemon one, and after the first sip, smiled to himself.
Thanks, Novus. I never thought I'd taste something like this again.
"Can I have one of those too, Boss?"
That was something he never expected to hear from an NPC—it was common knowledge they only ate and drank on a programmed schedule. And yet, Bella was eyeing the fizzing bottles with genuine interest.
Alan heard Jason snicker.
"Grab whatever you want, love," Tamara said.
"Thanks, Ms. Morin," Bella said as she reached for an orange drink.
Since Anastasia seemed reluctant to move even an inch from her position—kneeling with her legs tucked neatly beneath her, back straight, hands folded in her lap—Alan picked a bottle for her.
"Thirsty? I haven't seen you eat or drink anything in a while."
Anastasia lowered her head as if apologizing. Even her fox ears dropped. "Is it really okay, Master?"
"What are you talking about? You don't need my permission for something like this. Eat and drink whenever you feel like."
Anastasia nodded softly before accepting an orange soft drink and taking a sip.
Alan watched her swallow naturally, then glanced over at Bella, who was already munching on nachos, much to Jason's annoyance.
They're completely different from regular NPCs now.
He then recalled the scene from earlier.
After Tamara offered to take Alan and his two companions to Londorus—his objective from the very beginning—he asked for at least five minutes so that Anastasia could demolish the stew restaurant.
"If you allow me, I could do it in seconds," Tamara had offered.
Once Alan nodded, the petite girl asked the others to step back. She raised an open palm toward the establishment, and Alan watched it begin to crumble under its own weight—it took him a moment to realize she was compacting it with an invisible force.
Wood snapped, metal creaked, mortar crumbled until there was no space left for anyone to be standing inside.
The demolition was fast, with no reverence whatsoever. In the end, a large heap of scrap material was all that remained—the only indication that something had been built there before.
Alan glanced at Bella at that exact moment and found only a blank expression on her face.
"Oh, would you look at that," Tamara suddenly said, snapping Alan out of his thoughts.
"Shouldn't the Titan Hunters have gotten rid of it this week?" Jason commented, stifling a yawn. "Those wankers…"
Frowning, Alan followed their gaze until he saw something looming over them. At first he thought it was a solitary tall tree standing in the middle of the countryside. Then a sudden movement in its branches made his heart skip a beat.
The rustling was too deliberate. It's not because of the wind!
The realization hit him right as the towering creature reached out with its sharp claws.
"WATCH OUT! A monster! A tree monster is about to—!"
With a gentle pull of the reins, Tamara ordered her flying cat to veer sharply left, and what appeared to be a set of enormous branches grasped nothing but empty air.
Still catching his breath, Alan focused on what was pursuing them and the system fed him the information: 'Ent King, Menzuga, The Giant Wanderer.'
It must be, what, like 1500 feet tall?!
He turned to Tamara and Jason, noticing their unamused expressions as the abomination cast a wide shadow over them.
If they're not freaking out, I suppose I can calm myself too, right?
That thought lasted all of two seconds. The Elemental giant had begun emanating a green aura around its sprawling crown of rustling leaves.
"It's charging something!" Alan cried out as whip-like vines extended toward them at speed.
He braced himself for the moment their ride would be caught—and then felt a hand on his shoulder as Tamara whispered in his ear. "Could you chill out? Look."
Alan squinted. The incoming vines were being deflected by a shield that shimmered into view for just a moment, like vanishing ocean waves.
The creature stopped in its tracks, settling for watching them as they moved on.
Was that sadness Alan could make out beneath its rough, vaguely human features?
"D-Did you do that, Tamara? That barrier…"
"Hmm? Ah, no. That one wasn't me." She giggled. "Just turn around and look."
Alan did, and his jaw dropped. A city stretched as far as his eyes could see.
Glistening rivers ran through it like veins, cutting through the gray of paved streets.
The distant sounds of the city reached him--a mix of voices, vehicles, and life itself, contrasting with Windexeter's ghostly silence. But what truly caught his attention was the massive structure dominating the city's heart: A clock tower the size of a city block.
Its gothic design and grandieur left him in awe.
So this is Londorus, huh? Inspired by New London, I suppose. But what's with that tower? I never saw something like it during my short trips to the city--wait, I remember now. From a really old British scifi series grandpa used to show me. He said the city was called simply 'London' back then. The clock tower was supposed to be an important landmark… I think. I bet it was lost during the Dawnless War.
Does recreating it here in The Novus symbolize some kind of reclamation for mankind?
An enormous virtual window appeared in his field of vision:
+------------------------+
Welcome to Londorus.
The City of Endless Heritage
+------------------------+
"Welcome to Eurola's biggest Safe Zone, Founder," Tamara said, gripping Alan's shoulder.
The sight should have filled him with wonder. Hell, a year ago, he would have been jumping with excitement. But right now, all I feel is this bitter taste in my mouth.
He shot the city a cold glance—one that Tamara caught for just a split second, though she could never have known he was looking at something far beyond the city's splendor.
I'm back, Novus, he thought, clenching his fists. And I might be bringing bad news.
— 5.1 —
Alan could hardly believe the size of the place they were landing in. Back on Earth—before the lockdowns—he had only seen a handful of locations this massive. One was the Henry Ford Hospital, which he unfortunately knew like the back of his hand, and the other was the Alvearium Enterprises Headquarters.
This place was something else entirely.
He started counting: four main buildings, an Olympic-sized pool, and two playing fields.
Just as Tamara's giant cat entered the area, a virtual message blinked into his field of view.
+------------------------+
Welcome to Shooting Stars Headquarters.
+------------------------+
"Nah, you're joking! Is this really where you guys hang out?" Alan beamed.
"What? Are you that impressed by this pigpen?" Jason sneered, only to catch Tamara's glare. He cleared his throat. "I mean… yeah! Cool place, right?"
Tamara's cat landed softly in an open courtyard surrounded by neatly trimmed square hedges and black curved lamp posts. Alan hopped down, his gaze immediately drawn to salmon-colored paving stones leading to the nearest building—white, minimalist, about a hundred feet ahead.
I can't believe Shooting Stars has grown this much, he thought, glancing at the people passing by, who looked back at him with open curiosity. Their shiny gear and form-fitting clothes seemed almost regal compared to those of the people Alan had met during the past week.
"Hurry, Alan, to the cafeteria. We're still in time for the breakfast menu!" Tamara said, grabbing Alan by the arm as if they were already best friends, drawing a huff from Jason.
"Didn't you already have an early breakfast?" Jason grumbled.
She giggled. "I'm always hungry after a job well done. Come on!"
"I suppose I could go for some coffee," Jason said, exhaling.
As they walked through the facilities, Alan spotted the pool, where a swimming competition was underway. Beyond it lay the training grounds, where a guilder summoned a 32-foot bipedal dinosaur that promptly bowed to its master. The ground trembled faintly beneath the creature's weight.
"Do you like what you see?" Tamara asked, watching Alan's expression. "Our headquarters have everything an adventurer could want! Training areas, battle gyms, you name it."
"Fascinating. I'd love to visit them all."
The aroma of melted butter and freshly brewed coffee drifted from the cafeteria. As he stepped inside, warm air wrapped around him. Around thirty people had gathered, their voices rising in animated conversation. The walls displayed projections of sweeping landscapes, giving the place an almost serene quality.
This reminds me of the recreational rooms at the Alvearium Enterprise HQ. The teens who'd later become the Santa María's passengers spent a couple of weeks there, getting to know each other before leaving Earth.
The warm feeling faded upon noticing that half the people in the room were staring at him. Conversations dropped mid-sentence. The others only looked up when Tamara took his hand and steered him toward the food bar.
"Come on, Alan," she said, oblivious to the hush that had settled over the room.
With Tamara's help, Alan and the NPCs loaded their trays with pancakes, coffee, scrambled eggs, and bacon—despite Jason's insistence that the NPCs should eat whatever the cafeteria had left over from yesterday.
When they turned to find a table, the whispering had already started.
Alan took in the young faces around him and swallowed hard.
This is the first time I've been surrounded by this many Tandem since I logged out… And even though I'm one of them, I feel completely out of place.
"Come on, Alan. Let's sit—"
"Hey, Tammie, over here! I saved you a spot!" A girl with a honey-blonde bob waved enthusiastically from across the room.
Alan's heart skipped a beat. He was the first of the group to stride over—but the moment he was two feet away, his shoulders dropped.
It's not her.
He pressed his lips together, and the girl at the table gave him a puzzled look.
"Who's the newbie, Tammie?"
"Newbie?" Jason dropped into a seat. "Try 'senior' instead."
"Senior?" The girl narrowed her eyes.
Tamara stepped in quickly. "Alan, this is Marissa Laflamme—Vice Captain of the Rogue Division."
Vice Captain. Division. So formal. So cool.
Alan straightened up. "Nice to meet you. I'm Alan Warden. The two behind me are Anastasia and Bella."
The NPCs gave a short, synchronized curtsy. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Laflamme," they said in unison.
The girl with amber eyes watched the display and let out a short laugh. "Alright, so what's this 'senior' business about?"
"Can we set that aside for a moment, Marissa? At least until we've eaten," Tamara said.
"It's basically lunch at this point, Tammie." Marissa smirked.
"He's the guild's founder," Jason said flatly, much to Tamara's dismay. "The first Shooting Star."
That was all it took. Members from adjacent tables converged on Alan in an instant, faces lit up.
"Is that true?! Where have you been all this time?"
"Is your level over 100? Is that why it won't display right?"
"Does that mean you're stronger than Astrid?"
"What's all this?!" Alan cried, suddenly hemmed in on all sides.
"What did you expect, Founder?" Jason said with a shrug, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're a legend. To us, you were just a name on the Guild Member list that was always offline…"
"That's fair, but—!"
Seeing Alan's face, Tamara took a breath, rose from her seat, and brought both palms down on the table. Plates and cutlery jumped with a sharp clatter.
"KEEP IT DOWN! There'll be a time for Alan Warden to tell his story, but NOT while he's trying to eat! Everyone—back to your tables. NOW!"
As the crowd dispersed reluctantly, Alan stared at the petite young woman beside him.
And here I thought she was just a sweet, mild-mannered girl.
"Well, that's a buzzkill. I wanted to hear the story too," Marissa said, resting her chin on one hand, before a wide smile spread across her face. She rose from her seat and planted a hand on her hip, showing off a skintight leather catsuit beneath a blue cloak. "How about a friendly duel instead? You can't really know a person until you've traded blows with them."
She blinked, then glanced around the table. The whole group was quietly focused on their food: Alan was examining the texture of his scrambled eggs, Tamara was taking a delicate bite from her fork, Jason was sipping his coffee in silence, Bella was giggling over her waffles, and Anastasia was crunching through bacon with complete commitment.
Marissa felt suddenly self-conscious about her brazen attitude and eased herself back into her seat.
"O-Of course… Not right now. Later. Bon appétit."
"Sure. After our stomachs settle," Alan replied, then added, "And as long as you give us a handicap."
'Our' stomachs. Give 'us' a handicap.
Marissa wondered why Alan Warden talked like that.
"Why would you need one?" Marissa snickered, but Alan's attention had already shifted to Tamara's tray, which held at least five times as much food as his, including a massive steak.
"Can you really eat all that?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"Of course. As Marissa said, it's lunch."