Somnia Online by K.T. Hanna (reading strategies book txt) đź“•
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- Author: K.T. Hanna
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“That’s what I don’t understand.” Masha spoke almost to himself like he was lost in thought. “Also, I swear the last few dungeons have seemed to pass in a dream. Like it wasn’t even me playing. Bet we’ll all get a heap of sleep after this urgent prison break is done. Apparently, my brain could really use one.”
Murmur watched as he walked back, fully aware of the frown on her face.
“Well, that’s the Masha we actually don’t hate.” Sinister spoke loud enough that most of Fable could hear. Then she turned to Jinna. “And what the fuck was up with you?”
Jinna blanched. “I’m not sure. I feel like I said and did some things, but it’s all mixed up. Maybe I was way overtired, almost like I was dreaming but wasn’t actually dreaming. I’m really sorry if I fucked up badly.” He let out a sigh, running his hand through his beard. “I do remember screwing up a couple of interrupt rotations, though. Which, there’s literally no excuse for, considering even Karn had no trouble with them.”
“It’s okay, Jinna,” Murmur said softly, glad to have her friend back, even if she wanted to know just how Jirald had managed to insert himself into their minds. Because there was no doubt it was connected. Jirald suddenly not in proximity and the death glare players go back to normal? Yep. Coincidence, smoincidence.
“Okay, everyone. Going to be tight going for a bit. Cuddle up, three wide and file out in ten lines. Veranol, Murmur, and I will make up the front line,” Devlish called out loud enough to sound over the entire area. “Esolan, Masha, and Ishwa will bring up the rear. Everyone else, in between. If you didn’t know your fellow raiders yet, you will now.”
A chorus of groaning rose up from the raid, but there was good-natured humor lying under it. Murmur heaved a sigh of relief. Two down. One sent home. How the fuck did James end up as a boss in here, anyway? There was so much she didn’t know that was going on, and Somnia owed her some damn answers.
Somnia Online
Gefängnis Island - Prison Dungeon
Version 2.92352 – Activated by Murmur of Fable
Late Day Thirty-Two
As James dissipated into thin virtual air, Jirald gritted his teeth together. Enough with all this sparing lives shit—he wanted to kill monsters. He wanted to eviscerate them. He knew they shouldn’t have teamed up with Fable. Even his influence over the idiotic sheep who followed her only extended as far as his proximity to them did.
He leaned back against one of the large rocks jutting out of the floor and felt himself falling. His head spun like a top until he was so dizzy he leaned over and puked. It felt real, solid even. The smell and taste lingering in his throat, the action made his eyes water. He glanced around, unable to see any of the raid that had been there only moments before. Frowning, he tried to access his menus. Thankfully they were still where they should be, but he couldn’t seem to bring up his log out or restart screens. Damned system bugs, or maybe it was his headgear. He had been tinkering with it for the last couple of weeks since realizing that Murmur’s couldn’t be the same factory standard as everyone else’s.
Maybe he should have left well enough alone, but it was so hard to do when he’d set his mind on destroying something or finding out its secrets. He needed to win at everything, including what he’d set as goals.
He sighed and pushed forward, following the black rock pathway he could see. One more good thing about locus. They were sturdy, hardy, and had night vision in more than one way. It wasn’t the same as infravision, and it didn’t work like night goggles, but it was adept at picking out black from an array of similar colors.
In the distance, he could see a very soft blue glow. Sort of like the runes that shone under a magical locus skin. He watched it for several seconds and decided to follow it but was careful not to step off the narrow path and into the darker-than-black water that lapped at the sides of it as if it was hungry to swallow him whole. There was curiosity and stupidity, and he really didn’t think of himself as stupid.
Finally, he made it to the end, feeling much colder than he had when he started. From this side of the path, he couldn’t see any traces of where he’d once been, but the small, glowing opening beckoned him inside. Between choosing watery death, or glowy death? He chose the glow.
Except it wasn’t death awaiting him. It was a well-groomed, exceptionally pretty calico feles. She stood next to an old-fashioned brick fireplace, with a grill around the front of it, and old fire stokers next to it. She didn’t turn around to look at him but tended the fire first. So he waited and felt as the warmth seeped back into him and brought back feeling to the tips of his fingers.
“You shouldn’t stare, you know,” she practically purred at him before turning around. “I am Riasli.”
She offered him a paw, and he took it, thinking it was odd that her hands resembled actual feline paws instead of the typical gamer furred human hands. “I’m—”
But she didn’t let him get further. “Oh, I know who you are. We all know who you are.” Her sharp teeth poked through the smile like she was betting on something—or hoping for something.
He wanted to take a step back but found his feet unable to move. In fact, it felt like he was glued to the spot. Riasli’s grin grew wider, so wide he might get gobbled up in Cheshire-like fashion. As it widened, her teeth became sharper, and her eyes glinted
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