Ragnarok

Chapter 43 - Key

"So there's a several thousand foot tall monster headed towards us, my girlfriend's headed to South America for some crazy scheme at the whim of the Overminds, and you think I should play a video game?" Micah demanded. He had barely slept since the discussion with Mia and Draco, tossing and turning in his hammock while his mind tied itself in knots. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the giant emerging from Jupiter's atmosphere, that massive death-mask seeming to glare straight at and through him.

"I admit, the timing does seem bizarre," Rei said, mild as ever. "However, from what you've told me, your visitor claims to be something that only existed in science fiction until now ... a copy of a human personality, stored indefinitely upon the structure of the Datanet. If that is true, then who can say what might be buried in his vault?"

"I still don't see how something in the virtual world can help us, when there's a very real death machine headed towards us. I mean, that thing's as big as Luna itself! It could tear the colony here right out of the surface, like pulling a vine off of a tree."

Rei said nothing for a minute, just looked at him, her expression unreadable. "And if it contained the secret to the process that Farrell used to upload his consciousness to a machine? With that knowledge, you would no longer be threatened by damage to your physical form. Even if the entire Moon was destroyed, you could maintain your existence."

Micah looked over at Rei. "Is that what this is all about? You're trying to keep me safe, even if it means I end up as a machine?"

"Being a machine has its advantages," Rei replied, a bit coldly. "A much more logical way of thinking, for one. Less muddled by emotions like despair... or loneliness. And something else, Master. We know from the virus' intrusion into Valhalla that there's something about that game that has lured Ragnarok's interest. Now that you've met the beast face-to-face, it's sure to be even more interested in you." She looked off to one side, as if embarrassed by her outburst. "And if Mia has any chance of actually being able to stop the creature, I can only imagine that the odds would be greatly increased if Ragnarok is distracted with us assaulting it in Valhalla at the same time."

"You have a point, as ever," Micah sighed. "Alright, alright. Let's go ahead and go right now. It's not like I'm going to be getting any sleep tonight ... this morning ... whatever it is."

* * *

The mountaintop was a desolate, stormy perch high above the snow-swept plains below. Far, far below, as he found out when he strode out to one of the stone outcroppings to have a look. His initial perception of how high above the ground he was had been somewhat warped by the tree of Yggdrasil, which dominated the landscape before him. Even from this peak, the bulk of the World tree's branches remained far above his head.

Stretching out in front of him was most of the known realm of Midgard, which had been modeled after a fantasy version of Bronze Age Europe. It was considerably scaled down, but that made the shapes of Greece, Italy and the Spanish Peninsula easier to recognize from here. Further to the north, the fjords of Scandinavia were buried under a late winter snow, but that didn't stop the players from slogging their way through the snow drifts in search of experience and loot. If he looked far enough into the distance, he thought he could see one of the dragon bosses beginning to circle its spawn zone, a great black blot of warriors marring the white fields where the dragon was planning on landing.

The twisted roots of the giant world-tree stretched out into the Baltic Sea, with the bulk of the enormous trunk resting upon the northern shore of what one day would become the Netherlands. Its roots reached both far inland and out to sea, forming rough, woody islands that rose up above the surface of the chill waters.

Thorin turned away from the view, and looked back at what had initially appeared to the be the peak of a great mountain, but now revealed itself as a floating island of rock, hovering thousands of feet above the surface. The island was fairly small, only about twenty meters across at the furthest point, and its lone feature was a stone escarpment that lead to a pair of massive, golden double doors. Engraved upon each door was a sinuous dragon, and their foreclaws connected in the center, entwining themselves into an elaborate locking mechanism. A lock for which he just happened to have a key.

Avril suddenly appeared in a flash of light next to him, glancing over her shoulder at the view of Midgard. She seemed to focus primarily on Yggdrasil, regarding it without comment for several moments before turning towards Micah and the door. "No time like the present, Master. We may have three weeks before Ragnarok nears Earth orbit, but it would be preferable to have as much time as we can to study what's inside Farrell's treasure vault."

Thorin nodded, and stepped forward, holding the elaborate key in one hand. He stepped closely, studying the ornate locking mechanism until he finally spotted the slot. With a click, the golden key slid home, and with a twist, the dragons' forelimbs separated from one another, the doors sliding open without a sound. Somehow, the silence was far more eerie than the long, drawn-out creaking sound he had been expecting.

"Another day, another dungeon," Thorin quipped, stepping forth into the shadows.