NOVEL NEXT Chapter 27: Popular Reception
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Marie: Have you ever thought about using the adult content in Ghostlands when off-stream?
Gordon: Honestly? It just sounds undignified. Certainly solo.
Marie: You know, that makes sense with how little immersion you get in games.
Gordon: How do I put this? It's like … c'mere and give me that sweetness, you sexy tech demo. SUPER hot.
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Sol 490 FY 26, 08:01 Mars Time, Bonestell Crater Colony, Hab Layer, 9.32.002.B
[8:01] Gordon: Gallant incoming!
Marie looked at her wrist display in confusion for a whole minute before the meaning penetrated. It had been a day for a power nap, and then she'd missed her customary power-bar midday snack, and she wasn't at her best.
Of course, this was exciting.
"OMG!!!!" she sent. "I can't wait to log in! Tonight we talk while I game."
Energized, she bustled around her hab, eating some cookies in lieu of her missed lunch while searching for clean socks. It wasn't an off day—it wasn't scheduled to be an off day, anyway. But, between her new exciting news and the double shifts she'd been pulling last week, she felt confident she'd earned a bit of grace. Still, she'd at least show up, let the foreman know she was pulling a short shift today, and she'd make it up tomorrow.
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Sol 490 FY 26, 15:01 Mars Time, Bonestell Crater Colony, Hab Layer, 9.32.002.B
The cliff tops had been recently cleared of ghouls, and they didn't regenerate quickly enough to be a concern yet. The weary caravan trudged onward under the relentless rain, their footsteps dragging through the mud. It was a sorry sight—injured, rain-soaked, and silent save for the occasional hacking cough from Lady Rhea, whose fever seemed to have only worsened since the storm hit.
Marie stayed near the back, her boots slipping slightly on the damp ground as she adjusted her nearly empty bandoliers of potions. It was a long walk ahead, and the grim expressions of the group mirrored the weight in her own chest. She was almost out of resources, and this was too many people to protect on an open road.
Jaz and Jillian weren't there. They were still on shift.
Marie didn't blame them. Someone had to keep the dome's filters clean and the kids out of the waste tanks. But she felt the difference, playing alone. Acutely.
Artemis walked at the front, his shoulders slumped in a way that seemed alien to his usually boisterous self. He finally broke the silence, his voice rough but clear. "Mars was a good man. A good man, fallen in his prime—because of my arrogance and pride. Lost because he couldn't trust his superiors to make good choices."
Marie glanced at him but said nothing. Lady Rhea coughed weakly, the sound cutting through the drizzle like a knife, but she offered no commentary either. Her glassy eyes were unfocused, her face pink with fever.
Marie stared at the skies, which were swirling with threatening funnel clouds. She knew exactly what this was. Ghostlands loved its emotional roller coasters, loved to dangle tragedy and impending doom in front of you. It wanted you to simmer, to feel, to let the game drive your emotions so that when you finally triumphed, it would taste all the sweeter.
But right now, she wasn't feeling it. She was tired, cold, and damp, and her promised gift from Gordon was nowhere in sight.
"There will be time for accounting," she said flatly, adjusting her boots to get rid of a persistent pinch. "Time to mourn the lost. Time to decide who should've done what. For now, let's just get everyone home safe."
Far above them, lightning flashed silently among the spinning clouds.
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Eventually, one of the scouts produced a map. It was rough—hand-drawn estimates of distances and directions, annotated with landmarks like "the two trees that make a V" and "the cherry tree with all the bark missing." Marie stared at it, frowning. This wasn't the sort of map you relied on if you had other options. Unfortunately, they didn't.
"Half a day this way, by noon that way," Artemis muttered, tracing a line on the map with his finger. "We'll circle the promontory, head down the spit, and take a raft across the lake. Should be straightforward."
Marie had her doubts. She suspected she'd be relying on someone else's eyes to follow this mess of clues.
As they walked, her mind wandered. She found herself chewing on her lower lip—a nervous habit she thought she'd kicked. But then she remembered: Gallant. She couldn't help but wonder when he'd show up. Gordon had promised him as a gift, and she was trying not to build up expectations.
Her chat didn't help.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
> Stormbringer777: Something wrong? You're chewing your lip.
> Neopets30: Probably thinking about her boyfriend.
> xX_snakes_Xx: I'd chew my lip too. Yum! When are you gonna relax your stance on adult-only content?
> Randoon_the_wizard: Um. She's on a public stream.
> xX_snakes_Xx: Just saying. You and the G-man? There's potential.
Marie sighed and brushed the overlay aside. "There is, but not for your viewing pleasure," she said aloud.
The rain picked up, drumming against her hood as the caravan rounded the promontory. And then, just as they reached the spit of land leading toward the lake, the ghouls came.
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The horde surged from the treeline, their rotting, patchwork forms moving with unnatural speed. Marie's hand shot to her wand, instinct taking over. She cast Slow Time, the wave of magic rippling outward and halting the nearest group of ghouls mid-charge.
But before she could reach for her potions, a figure appeared—a lone warrior wading into the fray.
The man moved with impossible precision, his broad blade flashing in the rain as he carved through the ghouls with brutal efficiency. His mirror-bright armor gleamed even under the stormy skies, and his white rose-adorned shield deflected every attack with ease.
Marie blinked in confusion. This wasn't Gordon's avatar. Gordon was a gunslinger, not a knight. He was supposed to have a revolver, not a sword.
The knight strode toward her, leaving broken ghouls in his wake. When he reached her, he planted his sword in the earth and removed his plumed helmet, revealing familiar cheekbones and piercing green eyes.
Marie's breath caught. It was Gordon—or rather, it was Gallant. His gift.
Her chat exploded.
> Neopets30: HOLY CRAP, IS THAT GORDON?!
> Stormbringer777: Wait, why is he a knight?
> Randoon_the_wizard: I don't care what he's dressed as: why's he any good at being a knight?
> xX_snakes_Xx: That's not just a knight. That's her knight.
Marie stared, her mind racing. Gallant wasn't just a knight in shining armor; he was custom. His sword movements, his polished appearance—it was all so deliberate.
Gallant knelt before her, his head nearly level with hers despite the height difference. For a moment, neither of them spoke. His green eyes met hers, and Marie felt something inside her crack under the weight of it.
> Stormbringer777: Why isn't he talking? Avatars can talk, right?
> Neopets30: Is he broken? Did Gordon mess up the programming?
Marie reached out a trembling hand, almost as if to confirm that he was real. Before she could touch his face, Gallant's hand intercepted hers, his grip gentle but firm. Slowly, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, his eyes closing as he did.
A single tear slipped down Marie's cheek.
The chat had feelings about that, too.
> xX_snakes_Xx: THAT'S A CUSTOM ANIMATION, I'M CALLING IT.
> Neopets30: GORDON. WENT. ALL. OUT.
> Randoon_the_wizard: I don't know about her, but I'm in love.
> Stormbringer777: It's official. Marie, you gotta marry this man.
Marie swiped the overlay away, her lips trembling as she let out a shaky laugh. "You ridiculous people," she whispered, but her heart wasn't in the protest.
Gallant didn't speak, but he didn't need to. Everything about him, from the gleaming armor to the tender gesture, was a message. A promise.
Marie stepped forward and whispered, "Thank you, Gordon."
Far away, she imagined him smiling.
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Sunday, November 17th, 2091, about 9:00 pm MST, Montana City
Later that evening, Randoon_the_wizard commented on the forums. "OK, guys," he said, "I can't figure out how he did it. How does an avatar identify 'gentle caress incoming', set state to 'gentle kiss, close eyes', and then transition so smoothly into a careful hug? No dialogue, it doesn't seem to use any standard animations, I watched back the recording, and he tanked ghoul blows left and right, he's got HP to spare despite being a gunslinger's avatar. I can't figure this sh*t out guys"
xX_snakes_Xx: It's not Gordon's at all, that's a world AI plant.
mau_dev: Well that's certainly not how he does it *smug*
xX_snakes_Xx: "I suppose you know what he did do?"
mau_dev: That would be telling. I will say I'm not patching anything unless someone starts abusing Gordon's methods.
mau_dev: Some hints, though:
You know Gordon made the animations custom, but nobody's said, yet, WHAT all he customized to control for.
Think about how triggers overlap. What's needed to initiate movement in
dance animations
?
Big_Iron: Hey, no fair
Precious_Taters: I think I know this one.
Precious_Taters: Dance animations don't initiate unless your partner's hand is in the right spot. He's replaced his dance animations with custom romance ones.
x_TremeSnooze: That's a lot of effort. Hope she's worth it…
Randoon_the_wizard: SMH my head, don't know how I missed that. And that's legal?
mau_dev: I did say I wouldn't patch for it. Yet.
UrbanHouseMoose: Besides, we know how the HP thing works. Bet you anything - remember, Gordon was doing the draw live, so he probably isn't running off stats. I pulled some of his studio footage, and he's using a prop the whole time, in each session. So—he can allocate where he wants. I'll bet his gunslinger has a ton of HP too, and he's just coasting off real-world talent.
Big_Iron: 'coasting' XD Thanks, I appreciate that.