***In chairwoman Constantine's office***
After doing her speech and getting everything in place for the final, Constantine went back to watching the live stream. She was looking forward to it too, since it was from two players she could only describe as errors.
But when the gong resounded, and the black bubble started expanding, she frowned. No players should have access to legacies yet, and Khalor had already broken that fact.
But he was going a step further, having already attained his first legacy skill. Which was no small feat.
Her frown deepened when she saw the cityscape forming. It made little sense for a memory skill to bring up a cityscape so desolate.
Then her eyes went wide.
"Impossible!" she shouted in her office.
ραпdα Йᴏνêl(сòm) She rapidly grabbed her phone, calling the ones that managed the live stream for her. Her phone rang three times before a tired voice picked up the other side.
"Yes, Ma'am?" the person asked.
"Cut the live feed, right this second," Constantine ordered, her tone not asking.
"But, Ma'am…"
"I said cut the feed this instant!" she barked.
"This feed needs to go down right now! Make up an excuse as to why, but shut it down, now!" She ordered again, before hanging up.
She picked her phone back up and called another number.
"Server monitoring room." A womanly voice answered.
"I want all the losing contestants to be disconnected from the tournament sub-server. And make this quick." Constantine ordered the woman.
"Yes, Ma'am!" The woman said, before hanging up.
Constantine then picked up her personal phone and speed-dialled a number. Her assistant picked up seconds later.
"Yes Ma'am?"
"I need you to hurry up the search for player Khalor. Offer double, no, triple the price to the hackers if need be, but find him as soon as possible." Constantine ordered.
"It shall be done." Her assistant replied before hanging up the line.
'How is this even possible? He shouldn't be possible.' Constantine muttered under her breath.
Moments later, everyone watching the tournament around the world experienced great disappointment when the live stream went down. The moderators were claiming network issues at the game establishments.
Some conspiracy theorists started spreading rumours of falsehoods being uncovered in the tournament by Khalor, and the game shutting it down because of it. Moderators tried placating such people in vain.
Even the players that had been watching the final round from the sky started taking to the net, expressing their displeasure. Something had forcefully logged them out, and it made most of them moody.
Two players, in particular, were more fearful of what it meant, since they might lose their rewards. Phoenix quietly waited in her pod, waiting for it to log her back in.
From that moment on, the only person who could still see what was happening, apart from the two players concerned, was Constantine herself.
All other video logs were being erased as they wrote themselves, as per ordered by the boss lady. Some employees felt this was wrong and strange, but they knew better than to question the boss woman.
Ever since that strange accident, a few weeks prior, where one of the security managers had died, some people had started worrying. No one dared utter their concern, though, fearing they might be next.
Quitting the job was not an option either, since it was a very lucrative job, and they feared it might arouse suspicion. So everyone kept on the down low and did their job without questions.
***Back inside the game***
Astaroth was watching on, as the remaining creatures, whatever they were, hunted the remaining people down, killing them one by one. His heart wanted to jump down and go help them, but his brain was still in shock.
He couldn't fathom what was before his own eyes. He didn't want to believe it.
But everything pointed to only one conclusion. Khalor was from the future.
'How is this even possible?' he thought, trying to make sense of things.
He didn't want to believe what his mind decided was a conclusion, but it added up. Khalor knew things that were going to happen.
He also claimed he wanted to help change what was to come. Plus, this memory of his was filled with details that couldn't be imagined.
This all pointed to this unbelievable conclusion. As Shakespeare had once said, "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.".
Astaroth did not want to believe Khalor. But what other choice did he have left?
Right now, what he was being shown was nothing short of the end of the world. If he could keep this from happening, shouldn't he do everything in his power to do so?
Believing Khalor was the first step in that direction. Astaroth reluctantly accepted this impossible truth.
His mind boxed that in, taking all the confusion he had previously felt, and sending it in the same box. For now, this would have to do.
Astaroth rose back to his feet, steeling his resolve. At that same moment, a fourth cry echoed out.
He turned his head, looking in the scream's direction. The last person was being pinned to the ground, as one of the red-skinned creatures ripped his throat out.
Following that gruesome sight, the world started shifting back to the plain and the pyramid. He understood the memory was over.
"So that really was you…" Astaroth said, turning to look at Khalor.
The man had a pained look on his face, but only anger was shining in his eyes. Astaroth could understand the feeling, as he guessed he would also be angry to look at himself dying too.
"So. Do you believe me now?" Khalor asked, turning to face Astaroth after a few seconds.
"I don't want to. But after all I just saw, I don't think I have a choice." Astaroth answered, clenching his fists.
"Well, in that case, if you understand, give up the tournament," Khalor said.
"What?!" Astaroth replied.
His mind spun out for a second, trying to understand what Khalor had just asked him. What did giving up the tournament change in the future?
He didn't want to simply give up. Not after making it this far.
"No." He answered.
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