#the retractable claws don't make much sense but I'll allow it

[dunmeshistash]

Does izutsumi have paw pads

Just furry hands

[myselfinserts]

“Don’t forget who’s in control.”

The glimmer of the moonlight filled the room from the little window that he'd allowed himself to have in this lab. His hands were shaking as he held the weapon in hand, aimed at the attacker. Everything hurt. His entire body was burning in pain. But he couldn't leave yet. The computer was almost done sending everything to the backup location.

But his attacker didn't seem to care. Thin, claw-like structures faded out from their skin in a sickly purple color. They were toying with him. Ready to slice him to bits, surely. But wanting to savor every moment.

Good. Let them savor trying to kill me. I just need a little more time.

"Well, Renegade?" the attacker hissed. "Are you going to do something or not? Hehehe….If you want, I can let you call in a friend to help. Though I doubt they'd get here in time." They gasped sarcastically, pouting as if trying to feign pity. "Oh, that's right. You have no friends in D-Game, do you?"

Regi winced. This wasn't entirely true. He only had one. But he couldn't reach out to him. There was no way Ceri would be able to face this bastard.

91%....92%......

"Don't worry," continued the assailant. "I promise, you won't have to worry too much. I'll make sure whoever misses you dies a quick death. They'll join you soon enough."

93%......dammit…… I'm gonna have to do this…..

"Give me one life line," Regi begged. "I'll invite a friend to the game. Just….please…..give me a fighting chance….."

Fall for my bluff. Please. Don't call it. Don't call it!

To his surprise, the spikes in the attacker's skin retracted. "Alright, Renegade. You get five seconds to send a help signal. Go on."

Regi sighed in relief, pulling out his phone and quickly looking through his contacts. He didn't have many options.

96%..... 97%.......

His fingers hovered over a familiar name.

98%......99%...... I'm sorry, old friend. I hope you can forgive me.

He clicked send on the invitation.

100%

Transfer Complete.

The spikes reappeared. "Times up. You're dead."

Regi smirked. "Don't forget who's in control, here. You made a massive error coming into my domain."

Static danced along the tips of his fingers as his eyes took on the familiar amethyst glow. His hair started pulling away from his ponytail, whipping about wildly as the machinery and wires around him started to fly. The weapon in his hand, a simple stun gun, started to come apart and merge with items that flew in his direction. It grew in size, changing shape until it resembled something similar to a megaphone.

Until the safety button was released.

"What the hell-?" the attacker began.

But with a single pull of the trigger. 

With a single, loud, unforgiving BANG!

It was over.

“You sure this is where she’s going to be?”

“Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Many times. That’s why I’m asking.”

Harper let out a sigh, shrugging as they lightly spun their bat around their head. “I dunno what to tell ya, Odette. This feels like the only place that would be left that fits the M.O. of our missing Princess Prissypants.”

That much was true. “Alcyone” had been Eira’s favorite handle ever since they were younger. The brightest star in Messier 45. The name of one of the Pleiades, as well as many other women in mythology. It’d make sense that it’d be her handle in D-Game. 

Based on her intel, the Alcyone of D-Game was ranked in the Top 3 players world wide, well known for making her opponents surrender all but one of their points to her in exchange for their lives. Dressed in lace gowns and wielding a silver glaive, they called her “Witch of the North” due to the icy winds and vast snow that she leaves in her path. Dark blue hair, and eyes a bloody spinel. An elf of frozen death who stared at those beneath her frosty grip with almost pity. 

If the pretentious descriptors didn’t fit Eira’s M.O., nothing would. 

Reluctantly, Odette adjusted the scarf around her neck, staring at the abandoned warehouse before them. Normally she wouldn’t get involved with field work. But if this was Eira, there was no way she was leaving anything to chance. 

“Well, let’s go in then.” 

Harper let out a huff and ran at the door, using one good sized swing to knock the chains off. Once unlocked, the two stepped inside. 

The crunch of the snow beneath their feet was deafening. The cold far worse than any Estmund winter she’d experienced first hand. Something about this was different. Odette could almost taste the despair that paired with the sharp bite of cold. Razor blade tipped spires of ice filled the expanse of the floor, almost resembling a forest in winter. A few steps closer to one of them, and Odette could see inside. 

It was a player. A player who had fallen asleep. The bright screen of their phone had the end screen for “Surrender” glimmer in what little light  that emitted from the damaged fixtures around them. Several more seemed to surround the very center of the room, where a figure stood with weapon in hand, pointed at the face of a man who was only frozen from the neck down. 

“Damn,” Harper whistled softly. “I knew Eira could be scary when she wants to be, but this is a whole new level.”

“I fear the day she ascends the throne.” Odette kept walking towards the center of the room, not even bothering to look at the remaining players frozen in place. 

They were still alive for the moment, and that’s all that mattered. 

As they got closer, Odette noticed the dress that Eira had worn. It was knee length, black, with silver stars along the edge of the skirt. The sleeves were thick and ruffled. Almost big enough to flap like wings. Rather than ribbons in her hair, there was instead a lovely headband with an intricate constellation embroidered on top.  Most people couldn’t pull off such a casual gothic lolita style. But Eira managed to wear it well. 

“Dammit,” Eira hissed. “I told you already! Surrender to me, now! Or else!”

The player on the other end of her glaive shook his head. “No way in hell!” 

“If you want me to even consider taking the knee, you better offer something of equal value. If you have any information on the Game Master, you better spill it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?! Die, you crazy bitch!”

Odette sighed. “No use trying to get him to talk. He’s just a patsy.”

Barely a blink, and the tip of a blade was barely an inch from her nose. She expected it. An instinct. Common in players who had spent too much time fighting to survive. She didn’t need her Sigil to predict it. Nor did she need it to predict the look of surprise on Eira’s face as she saw who she’d aimed her weapon at. 

“Odette? What the hell are you doing here?

Eira really is easy to read. How boring. “We’ve been looking for you for the last two months. You really gave us a scare, you know.”

Harper smirked, using their bat to lightly lower the glaive to the ground as they looked over at the player in ice. “You might wanna make a choice soon. I get the feeling you’re gonna be dead in about two minutes otherwise.”

The player didn’t reply. He simply spat in their direction. 

“Whatever. Your funeral.” They looked at Eira, an unusual softness in their voice. “Come on, Princess. You gotta come home.”

Eira’s grip tightened on her weapon. “No.....not until I get a clue to find Father.”

“You really think your strategy is going to work? You’re even more foolish than I thought.” Odette shook her head. “Please tell me you’re not that stupid.”

“Shut up! You still have both your dads! You have no idea-”

“-what it’s like? What it’s like to know that at any second your dad’s just going to up and vanish one day because some asshole with a phone app  and a small dick decided it was my dad’s turn to die? Yeah. Sure. I have absolutely no idea what that’s like.”

Eira went to argue, but instead turned away as her shoulders slumped. “.....sorry. That was dumb.”

“Very.” Odette reached out a hand and put it on her shoulder, gently pulling her back until she could wrap her arms around her. It wouldn’t stop her, but it’d make her hesitate if she tried to run. “Eira, come back with us. You don’t have to go home home yet. We have a hide out. At least get some rest so you don’t die of exhaustion. You’re no good to anyone dead.  Not me. Not yourself. And especially not Renegade.”

She didn’t want to have to initiate a battle, but if that’s what it would take, she would do it. But she wanted to at least try to talk her down first. 

To her surprise, Eira dropped her weapon, nearly collapsing to the ground as her shoulders began to shake. Her breathing shallow. Odette could just barely feel the warmth of tears falling on her hands. 

“I can’t stop,” Eira cried. “If I waste even a second-”

“It’s not a waste to look after yourself. You have plenty of points. You’ll be fine for a few days. Just come back with us, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

Harper reached down and picked up the glaive before turning Eira around and gesturing them to leave. As Odette pulled her along, she glanced over her shoulder just long enough to see the man in ice look at his phone, laughing defeatedly as the blocks started to break him apart, teleporting him away. 

Time’s up. 

Once they left the warehouse, Eira finally collapsed to her knees, crying herself hoarse as Harper and Odette held her steady. 

“....I hate this fucking game, Odie.....”

“....I know. I hate it too.”