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[indent][indent][indent][color=gray][sub][right][color=#dc143c][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Dungeon -- The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria[/right][/sub][/color]
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Anger burned in Graves' chest even as the group caught a moment's rest. They were collapsing along the corridor around him, exhausted and harried. He paced between them all, unable to keep still. Rael asked him if he was alright and he could only give her a nod. Graves was sure if he tried to speak he'd only end up yelling, and he knew that wouldn't be fair to her. He still had so much energy-- it infuriated him. One little misstep had taken him out of the action damn near immediately, forcing everyone else to pull his weight for him. His incompetence had almost killed Seele; how could he be so stupid? So reckless? Why'd a little pain cause him to run like a fucking coward?

He watched her slink against a wall, too hurt and too drained to even stand. She was ragged. The skin around her fingers had been sundered, her cheeks were still wet with blood leaking from her face and there was that black shit still running through her veins. It must've been the feedback from expending too much arcane energy- it wasn't something Graves had experienced personally, but he was vaguely aware of the mechanic. He'd never heard of it doing [b]that[/b] to a person, though.

The distance closed between the two of them before he fully knew what he was doing. [color=dc143c]"Sit,"[/color] he demanded, waving her down until she complied. Crouching next to her, Graves started peeling back her sleeves to get a better look at the damage she'd done to herself. It was...extreme. He could only imagine how excruciating it must've been. It'd take quite a lot out of him to fix, but it was the least he could do. Graves began undoing the straps on his own gauntlet.

With his other hand, he slid the nodachi from its scabbard and stood it up with its tip stuck in the floor. He moved the bare flesh of his arm against the edge. The steel was cold to the touch, damn near freezing compared to how humid it was in there. He sucked air between his teeth as he braced himself for the pain, then he cut. Two horizontal slashes, right next to each other. Blood began to flow immediately, so he was forced to release the sword and put pressure on the wound.

[color=dc143c][i]'Count to ten,'[/i][/color] he told himself. [color=dc143c][i]'That oughtta be enough.'[/i][/color]

Once he reached ten he pulled his palm from his wrist: the two cuts were scarred over, and a large amount of blood was gathered in his open hand. [color=dc143c]"Keep still. This'll feel weird as hell."[/color] He warned. Then Graves took her hand in his. The pooled blood sprung to life, surrounded by arcane energy, and slithered inside her pores. It burned through her nervous system like a purging fire, destroying the corrupting substance in her bloodstream and repairing what physical damage it could find. The fatigue wasn't something he could fix, but he hoped this made up for earlier.

The process was nearly wrapped up when a bright light filled the room. He turned to look, and saw the familiar uniform of one of the game's attendants. It was about damn time somebody said something. What kind of sick freaks would just throw all these horrible new things in without saying something first?

But then the man began to speak, and Graves felt a terrible lump rising in his throat. It turned out this wasn't just a content update. This wasn't even the game glitching out. Everything that was happening-- the pain, the hunger, the gore-- it was being done to them. And that wasn't even the worst of it. That disk plugged into Andrew's temple was apparently wired to fry his brain if he ever died in the game. How close had some of them come to dying in there without knowing about this? How lucky were they to be alive?

The devs didn't seem to know why this was happening, or even who was behind it, but they'd apparently been unable to take control of Pariah back. [color=dc143c]"Hours?"[/color] Graves repeated. His voice was quiet, shaken. [color=dc143c]"You knew about this for hours and you didn't say anything?"[/color] He knew the man behind the hologram couldn't hear him. Knew that this message was going out to everyone. And yet he felt like he was standing in the room with one of those developers he'd met all those months ago at a 'con. He felt like one of those awkward but enthusiastic men who'd made a game he adored had just drove a dagger into his stomach.

What if they'd been told back when they were prepping for the raid? How many people would've been saved if they'd known to just not go in?

Graves turned suddenly, throwing all his weight behind his hand as he punched the wall. He wanted to scream. Sixteen people were trapped in this dungeon until they completed it-- the only way out was always at the other end. They'd have to run through this death trap-- he'd have to watch [b]real[/b] people die-- and none of it had to happen.

Would anyone notice if he went? He lived alone...the only one he'd seen in months were his co-workers and his landlord. 

Would anyone [i]care[/i]?

He dropped to his knees, silent.

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