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Mori bit her lip until she tasted blood.
The metal coin dangling from her necklace clinked against rock as she shifted her elbows. Rifle butt snug in the pocket of her shoulder, she peered through the scope. Screams and roars buoyed by the wind reached her nest on the mountainside.
Down in that small valley, a party of five fought for their lives. Their weapons clashed with those of beasts standing eight and nine feet tall—horns curled and red eyes alight with bloodlust. With chiseled muscles and bodies built like tanks, the monsters ripped through the formation the players assembled like bulls through a china shop.
A scream tore through the air—unearthly and haunting—when a lance skewered one of the players through the stomach. The blue shield icon above their head flickered then vanished. One second later, their body exploded into motes of golden light.
"We should help them," Mori murmured, not taking her gaze off the sight below. "They're dying down there, Cyn."
Her party's leader shuffled on the stone ledge behind her, the faint scrape of armor touching Mori's ears. "I know that, but we'll die down there too," Cynthia replied. "This ring is way above our skill level. We knew that when we came to scout it out."
Whispers of agreement drifted from her other four party members through their comms. Whispers of fear.
Mori's breaths came short and fast. In the corner of her eye, the grey bar of accuracy fluctuated as her vision blurred. Five star accuracy at best. None of her other stats reached above three. "Let me help them," she pleaded. "We don't have to go down there." One of the monsters battered at a player's shielding with a spiked club. With their difference in height, she could get a clean shot right in the center between its eyes and horns and—
"Mori, you will not endanger the group because you want to play the hero." Cynthia's voice sounded hard and untouchable like the silver steel she wore. "Stand down. That's an order."
"C'mon, Mentos," Tsuna comforted on a private comm. She'd been positioned on another ledge with Yuta. As scout, she took point on missions while Mori always brought up the rearguard. "We both know Cyn has a stick up her butt, but she may be right on this one."
Another scream and the club smashed in the player's head, splattering brains on the grass before they too disintegrated. Mori had never heard such cries in the real world. No one knew when they'd die there, not with the same certainty that came from watching a health bar drop to zero.
When she heard screams like these, it brought to mind what her game name meant.
MementoMori. Remember that you will die.
"Why don't you take the rest of the group back over the pass and I'll catch up later then?" she said to Cynthia. Mori could feel the sharp screws of her leader's eyes being driven into her exposed back.
"I can't do that. You're too valuable an asset to lose, Mori." Cynthia's words oozed compassion, but Mori knew it to be false. The woman's health stat would be higher if the sentiment were genuine. "Everyone, fall back! We'll take the intel we've gathered, do some grinding, and return in a few months with a game plan."
Mori shut her eyes so she wouldn't see the people below get picked off one by one. I should have stayed with Ronin. He would have gone down there with me—insufficient skill level be damned—and we'd have saved those players or died trying.
"Mori, did you hear me?"
Sighing, Mori gripped her lucky coin in her right hand and stood up. In the old days, she would've flipped the coin to decide things and her team would have taken it as the will of fate. But they lived in the new days and Cynthia called the shots now—or the lack of them.
She twisted her sling to carry her grey rifle in a comfortable position when someone unleashed a battle cry below. Mori halted in her tracks.
"Rally and fight! Rally and fight!" a young girl's voice screamed, raw and cracking from strain. "Remember that you will die, but it doesn't have to be—it won't be today!"
A chill swept through Mori's body. It can't be. Raising her rifle, she pressed her cheek to the stock and sighted in on the girl below. Shiori.
Cynthia grabbed her arm. "Don't make me discipline you in front of the others."
She didn't have time for this. Not for Cynthia, not for a coin flip, not for anything else.
"My sister is down there," Mori growled. Wrestling out of Cynthia's grip, she balanced on the edge of the overhang. In her stat view, accuracy and stamina had taken a nosedive, but defense and health leveled out. Even more shocking, the golden bar of strength rose at a steady rate.
No time remained to think about it, but as Mori launched herself off the cliff, the golden bar spiked with the power of a supernova.
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Chapter Word Count: 825
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Facing Fear | ✓ ONC 2023 Honorable Mention
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