Eleven:

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I logged into the game at seven, just like every other night. I expected to see the dark red gloominess that we saw the past few nights, but not tonight. Quest had reverted to day one; vibrant green colors and velvety flowers clogged my senses as I spawned on the plains. I sucked in a breath. I should've been okay with what surrounded me, but it was empty. There weren't any creatures or demons scurrying about, nor were there players.

Where is Damon?

I cupped my hands over my mouth. "Damon!" I shouted as I jogged forward. "Damon, where are you?!"

There wasn't an answer, nor could I feel his presence nearby. Tears welled in my eyes as I gulped. This was my fault. If I had run back to his house, this wouldn't have happened. I would've helped him fight off those men, he would've logged in with me. Balling my hands into fists at my side, I blamed myself. "Damon," I whimpered, "you have to be here somewhere. You have to."

"He isn't," came a voice.

I sharply turned in its direction only to see the same alien who presented themselves to us the other night. Wearing the same cloak, they grinned as I slowly approached them. I had no choice. I was alone in this game and if anyone would give me answers, they would. I stood in front of them and inhaled sharply. "Where is Damon?" I asked.

"Tonight is when you'll fight boss number forty-nine. Such an amazing accomplishment to make it this far. I applaud you!" They clapped their hands together, ignoring my question. "You'll have to reenter the cave behind me and-"

No. I wasn't going to fight anything tonight nor could he make me. I didn't need their applause. I needed the man I always came here and played with. Drawing my sword from its holster, I rushed the alien and pointed the tip of the blade at their neck. They hissed, narrowing their gaze at me. "I am not the boss," they muttered.

"No, you aren't," I whispered, "but if you don't tell me where Damon is, I'll kill you like one."

"Oh, oh, oh," the alien laughed. "You have a fire about you. We love it and need it for our army."

"Wonderful!" I pressed the blade closer. "If you don't answer my question, you'll see more than that. Try my fury and rage. I'll bring Hell in here and you won't be able to stop me!"

The sly excited, amused smile on their face irked my nerves. So, I pressed the blade in enough to break the skin. Green blood slid down their neck. They laughed. "What if he is dead?"

"Don't say that!" I shouted as I grabbed the back of their head.

"Okay, okay." They raised one hand. "Your friend is in the queue with the other fighters?"

"Other fighters?" I pinched my brows together. "They hadn't played last night, but they're playing tonight. Why is that?"

They shook their head. "No one is playing tonight but you." They grinned. "Everyone has to log into their Quest base by seven central time, but we're not allowing their transfer. They are a waste of space."

"A waste of space?!" My blood boiled. I understood some of the players had done the bare minimum, but why would everyone be punished? Damon had fought alongside me, he wielded his weapons with expertise; there was nothing wasteful about him.

I pushed the alien to my feet and made them cower before me. Slowly, I passed my blood over their forehead. Green liquid trickled down their face. "Damon is a skilled fighter," I whispered.

"Is that your friend?" They asked and I nodded. They continued, "Damon is a skilled fighter, but we determine the players' return based on the number of blows they deal. Every night until the first major boss, everyone had done their part. With forty-seven, only you and Damon dealt damage; everyone else stood watch."

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