Alice’s Order

4. The Other Alice

Four

The Other Alice

Alice didn’t feel like Dawn belonged in such a sterile church—in such a solemn place. Alice knelt in front of the casket, too afraid to look at the gray shell of her sister, and wept. Alice didn’t want to be there. She went outside and sat under a willow tree with her face between her knees. Alice still spoke to her sister, who was knitted in every heartbeat of hers: Tell me what to do. Tell me where to go, how to feel, what to like.

Alice spent the rest of the day alone in her room, asleep on a damp pillow. When she managed to go into the living quarters, Alice saw herself in the stream on the front page of each news hub. Cyrus swiped it away.

President Jones came on the screen. “… Empyrean terrorists. They operate across every country, communicating through telepathy, passing amongst us, planning our eradication as non-psychics. We will fight against the terror they wish to inspire in us, Crisis and their forces is our best chance against them...”

“This country is going to the dogs,” Cyrus spoke to his online followers. “We do not need soldiers of fortune. What we need are more Neutralizers, a federal army, and control here.”

“No.” A voice chimed in from Cyrus’s watch. “We have to learn from history. Why continue an endless war?”

Alice watched the news, saw a statue of the Matron emerged from the church on Seventh Avenue. She flew at transports in the streets. Enforcers ran into the church. The footage showed a man by the altar being shot down. The last scene was of a window that opened by itself and a girl flying out. A man approached the window with a wicked grin and stared down at the girl. The crack of her body on the pavement ended her scream. Alice stood in the corner of the room, mouth covered, her shadow cast on the wall behind her. Were her parents lost somewhere, at the mercy of these terrorists?

Her reprieve from this political drama was playing Lost Cities and Mutants online. Indeed, as these days passed, Alice found a mask to wear. Alice was part of the human faction, gracing the internet as Lady Persephone. She replaced her broken reality with a better one. Every action she took had a reward. Every challenge opened doors. Friends never truly died in combat.

Alice was one of the top five players on the server because she grinded for a legendary set of armor that was dropped by Empyrean lord commander Greaves at a 0.002 percent drop. The game gave her an infinite number of targets and the empowerment that did not materialize in the face of real death.

Her character wore a gold bikini that wrapped around her like vines, and had silver wings that flowed between her long emerald-green hair. Alice maxed her character’s stats in bust, rear end, and leg length because she felt plain in real life. Alice wanted to be able to sway her hips like her character and kick bad mutants in the face with basically a heel rapier. Alice was also part of the Narcissus guild. The flower was a crest she could spray paint on the walls in-game.

Where’s the fun in playing a human? Cyrus messaged her in-game, which surprised her. Mutants have the better gameplay.

“Are you in the top five?” Alice called out in real life.

“Who taught you how to walk?” Cyrus said from the other room.

A smile crept onto her face. “I hate the mutant ravens. Did you master tailoring?”

Cyrus sauntered into her room. “My sets are tailoring and blacksmithing,” he answered.

“When I kill enough ravens to get a few shadowscales, can you craft me night boots?”

“Sure.” He messed up her hair. “Good luck. That drop is what people spend years grinding for.”

“Hey,” she whined and pushed him away, “don’t touch me.”

Alice seethed, she hated her sweet little voice because even her growl made Cyrus chuckle.

“Is that supposed to be tough?” he teased her.

“Go away!”

Checkmate: Hey we’re doing the mythic soul-well, there’s a free DPS spot. Can u bring that sweet sixty k DPS? We’re shooting for world first Prophet Xia

Lady Persephone: Yeah but if the Trickster ring drops, I get dibs

Checkmate: Aight

In the first phase of Prophet Xia, ten players are mind-controlled by his psychic abilities. With her winged boots, Alice’s avatar sprinted to the ten players and brought their health down to ten percent to wake them up from their trance. If she failed, they would become powerful slaves to this psychic.

Xia would hit the main tank for his blood. The power of the blood made Xia faster at each draw. Alice whipped Xia with her shock whip. Her presence alone was worth twenty other players, the red bar of the boss depleting chunk by chunk.

When Xia started to teleport, mirror images of himself flooded the hall in-game. The players each ran at the mirrors, trying to identify the real one before Xia could release a strong psychic blast. Alice whipped Xia again, wrapping the cord around him and electrocuting him. The final blow. Xia fell, and the loot screen popped up.

“Yes!” Alice grinned at the trickster ring. That would increase her already maxed speed by ten percent.

As promised, Checkmate gave her the ring. No one complained. Her stats said she dealt seventy-two percent of the damage to the boss. Alice jumped up and let out a “woo-hoo!”

Cyrus came out from the other room. He was about to congratulate her, but his eyes fell on the empty plastic candy bags littered around her room; her wild, frizzy hair; her stench from not showering in two days; her hot pink, baggy, bear-imprinted pajama pants; and her impish grin.

He was about to comment on the disarray, but instead just smiled. “Good job, little fly.”

When she returned to her faction’s hall in-game, a triumphant phrase was spoken to her: Heroibus Vero non Morietur. Confetti flew around her character and she grinned. She played well into the evening. At 4:00 a.m., Alice lowered her head onto her desk even though there was still chatter through her headset.

Behind her, Dawn adjusted Alice’s shirt. “Have you ever heard of Persephone?”

Fear struck Alice at the sight of her sister in the dark room, but the memory played out beyond her control. Alice shook her head.

“Look her up later. She’s the Queen of the Underworld during winter. In some tales, she is happy with her lover, the King of the Underworld. When she returns to Earth in spring, plants start to grow again and her and her mother are happy, though she misses her love. She symbolizes death and life, the eternal cycle.” Dawn grinned and kissed Alice’s head. “Go to sleep.”

Tears flooded Alice’s eyes when she woke, lips trembling, and she remembered her sister telling her this years ago while Dawn watched her play another game. When Alice remembered she was truly alone now, she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and continued to grind for shadowscales.