Chapter One Hundred and Ten - Dealing with Memories

Swept up by the enthusiasm of his Faction mates, Owen plastered an expression of bored arrogance upon his face, looking more like the second generation rich young master, knowing that this was how Last Fortress perceived him. How dare he spend a fortune on custom content making his avatar unique and his weapons top of the line? He laughed in his heart as he sauntered forth in the middle of his friends and teammates.

As they approached where Last Fortress was said to be gathering, Owen lifted his chin to scan over them with visible contempt. Let us see just how handsome that man is then shall we, he thought, filled with dislike for his online foe.

His cold, pale eyes met two cynical warm and dark ones and before them flashed a number of faces that shared similar eyes. Owen swallowed to ease a suddenly dry throat... what was he doing? He was going to confront a man he hated, but he didn't hate his husband... husband? He's not married, he doesn't even have a boyfriend! But I love him... hate him... he saved me... he obstructs me at every moment... but that is in the game... in real life.. what life...

Confronted by memories of other lives, where he was other people, where he was married or living with that man, his lover, his husband, he couldn't handle the numerous images flooding into his mind. All caused by... he tore his gaze away and fled.

****

He ran from me! Adam thought both alarmed and dismayed, both angered and distressed. Without thought, he instinctively moved to capture him, but was pulled back by Jordan and Charity, the girl who happened to play the character Trinity Desertflower.

"What was that all about?" Jordan asked as the members of Thirteen Levels of Purgatory all turned to each other in confusion before chasing down their leader, having lost the will to heckle.

Adam cleared his throat. "Not sure," he said, honestly.

"Probably just realising how awesome we are," Charity joked, causing a few nearby members to chuckle. She was a tall, lithe young woman, easily meeting eye to eye with him with the help of her pretty heels. She wore a flowy black skirt and long sleeved red top that might as well have been a second skin. Her raven locks were naturally curly and eyes a vivid green. "Poor boy just couldn't handle it!"

Adam frowned wanting to deny her words. That was his man she was talking badly about! But it would look odd if he suddenly defended him now, he could only swallow down his retort with regret. How was it possible that the youth he had never met yet grown to dislike ended up being the person he loved beyond anything else?

"Ah, you are members of Last Surviving Fortress?" A representative of the sponsors asked as he checked the names upon his clipboard. After hearing many affirmatives asked; "And which one of you is... Black Zeus?"

Adam reddened slightly, it sounded odd being called by his avatar now, for some reason. "That would be me," he said, managing to retain a straight face.

"Could you and the four players you are competing with please come to the stage?" The rep requested. "We will be starting the competition shortly."

"Sure," Adam agreed, though deep down he wanted only to find and embrace the youth he only knew as Requiem Knife.

The rep thanked him then went on his way. Jordan swung his arm over Adam's shoulders. "Come on, let's do this!"

"This is going to be so much fun!" Charity sang.

*****

Owen planned to escape to the bathroom to settle his thoughts and get his mind in order. Only then did he feel like he could focus. He was sure this had never happened to him before, in those previous lives that demanded his attention now, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. However, before he got too far, he was stopped by a representative of the sponsors saying that he and his friends needed to be on stage soon to compete.

In the time it took to inform him of this, his Faction mates had caught up with him and began to question him. "Ah, I just felt the sudden need for the bathroom," he lied. "Nothing serious!"

"Are you sure you are okay?" asked Alexandria, worriedly.

"I'm fine," Owen said, then turned to his Faction thinking of how to appease them, considering he left them in an embarrassing state. "It's pointless to toy with Last Fortress with petty words. We'll show them how Thirteen Levels deals with its enemies on the battlefield!"

They cheered, regaining some of their lost face within seconds. After all, were they not the best P.V.P and P.K. faction out there?! Owen chuckled inwardly, now he had to just prove his own words.

Unfortunately, their Faction was up first and unfortunately Owen was still somewhat distracted. Stop looking at me so happily! He thought grinding his teeth as he fidgeted on the tall stool... why did he pick skinny jeans to wear again? Was his image really worth this discomfort?

The eight teams had been split up so that the top four seeds would only meet in the second round or final. In fact Thirteen Levels of Purgatory would only meet Last Surviving Fortress in the finals should both teams win their matches. Thirteen Levels first opponent was Karma's A Bitch, a fairly well known Faction that usually focused on crafting things and making money, both in game and out. Owen had even bought a pair of custom boots from them once for real money. They should not be a challenge for a Faction focused on P.V.P like Thirteen Levels.

Requiem Knife almost faced a defeat at the hands of Karma's average skilled Leader! His team members; Suffer the Wrath, Unholy Moon, Kill And Kill Again and Ghostwalker completely slaughtered their foes in the one on one closed battlefield in less than a minute each. Knife's battle lasted almost five. As the results were announced, he carefully placed the controller down, ignoring the confused looks from his Faction members, ignoring the dark looks of glee from other teams and ignoring the look of sympathy from... him.

"What happened?" hissed Harmony softly. He just shrugged.

"Give me a minute," he said, dismissively and went into hiding like he originally wanted to do.

In the men's bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water and looked at himself in the mirror. He was Owen Miller, but before that he had been several other people, those who he had been born as, those who he had possessed. But before even that, he was a boy named Kyan and he had been plugged into an archive full of worlds. He had experienced many bad times, but there had been some good times and even a few great times, but the greatest thing of all was meeting Aidan. His heart blossomed, filling with warmth and emotion. That was right, who cared what he and Aidan looked like now or how they had become enemies. Before all of the silliness caused by an online game, they were lovers.

He sighed feeling as more settled. Unfortunately, now he had lost motivation to play that game! But he would feel bad letting the others, who had played so seriously, down. So he needed to figure out how to get back into the feel of things. His body remembered how to play the game, how to use his skills with the greatest efficiency and resolution, he just needed to focus, become comfortable in his own body again..comfortable huh?

As if the heavens had sent him a sign, Thomas happened to walk in at that moment, a heavy bag of merchandise swinging from his hand. Owen spied the top item in the bag. "Can I borrow that?"

*****

The Valkyries, an all girl (almost) Faction, easily whipped their male counterparts, proving no one should ever look down on a female gamer. Never Mind the Wicked, another P.V.P favourite fought next, but they were surprisingly defeated by a small Faction known as Sands of the Desert. Although they were a top ten Faction, they were often suppressed due to low numbers of members. However in this competition, they shone brilliantly. Last Surviving Fortress's match could barely be considered a fight, they won all five battles with a clean sweep and only Seven Chances lost hit points.

Naturally he was ridiculed in jest by his Faction mates.

"Don't worry," Cassiopeia, aka Penny, of the Valkyries joked, "he can edit it out later." This gained laughs from both Factions. Adam joined in their mirth, but couldn't help but gaze over to see if Knife... Owen was back from wherever he had disappeared too.

"You never know," Charity murmured close to his ear, "we might get lucky and find he bailed on his team!" Adam frowned and moved away from the girl. Did he ever used to find her so annoying? He buried his irritation, he was probably being unfair to the girl. Had she said such words before he had awakened, he would not find it so bad. He shared with her the half smiled he usually gifted his customers in the bar.

"Hey, want a drink?" Jordan asked, Adam nodded in agreement and gave him a five pound note. "Who else?" A few others raised their hands and emptied their pockets.

"I'll come with you!" Charity offered and walked towards the now busy cafe with Jordan. Adam inwardly sighed with relief and became even happier when Owen came into view.

The boy caused several long glances and surprised looks as he chatted briefly with a girl in his group. He had changed out of his branded Tshirt and thigh long buckled waistcoat into... a hoodie? Granted it was an Our Final Hour one but... it was bloody huge on the slender kid! The girl rummaged around in her handbag for a minute then past him something, her lips pursed. He grinned at her, causing a surge of jealousy to flood through Adam's veins. But no one else noticed, they were too busy watching him slash the knees of his designer jeans with nail scissors! Who the fuck purposely cuts jeans that cost no less than £150!?

Owen glanced over at Adam, a small smirk upon his face as he handed back the nail scissors. The fabric of the hoodie was new and rather than the familiar scent of conditioner, it had the scent of an unworn garment, but his body had instantly relaxed as he had slipped it over his head and pulled the hood over his head. He casually sauntered over to Adam, pausing only as he stood beside him. He barely looked at the man as he murmured in a soft voice; "if you let me win, there will be consequences." He refused to allow this man to throw the competition just because of him.

"Then if I win," he murmured back, his deep baritone resonating through Owen. He had to hold back the shiver that crept down his spine. "If I win, there should be a reward, right?"

Owen glanced at him then, one eyebrow raised, his eyes sliding down to those curved, enticing lips. "Oh? And you have such confidence?" Adam said nothing, just continued to smile. "As you say... if you win." Owen walked back to his team, which then annihilated the Valkyries without mercy.

Definitions;

P.V.P or Player vs Player; where two players fight each other until one surrenders, which in game is usually automatic when the loser gets low on hit points. Not to be confused by P.King (Player Killing) where a player kills another for whatever reason. P.V.P can be considered a voluntary thing.

Author's note; I am sooo sleepy that I really didn't want to write this thing!  It's odd, it's not like I don't have things planned out for the next few chapters, but I am seriously unmotivated at the moment.  That's unmotivated with everything, not just writing!  I'll get over it... probably!