Kenneth glanced around the little back room as they walked inside. He stayed back by the door, letting Byrd go ahead as he settled a hand on his pistol. Most NPC quests in safe towns like this one weren't violent, nor did they involve combat. Still, with a new quest, who knew what to expect?

He opened up the sidebar and glanced at his skill Tier. Still only Beginning in the last five he'd added after reaching level twenty. He frowned and bit his lip. I hope this quest drops some good skill points so I can get out of this rut. That was one of the only downsides to taking on the Jack of All Trades title--it took ages to get all the desired skills up to par. Kenneth knew he still had thirty levels before he had to declare a position, but this was taking ages.

"Hey, you gonna join the quest?" Byrd called back, looking back from where she stood a couple of feet from the NPC that had appeared in the room.

Straightening up, Kenneth walked over there. "Oh yeah, sorry."

She shrugged and waved it off. "You're good, but we can't get this thing rolling without both of us," she said. 

He nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The little sidebar disappeared and the screen was enveloped by the room. The NPC, a young girl in baggy clothes, stared up at them. Her blank eyes flickered from Kenneth to Byrd. He cocked his head, waiting for the dialogue that would inevitably come.

The girl didn't say a word, though. She turned around and started towards the door at the back of the room, pausing beside it. She cast a glance back at them.

Kenneth looked over at Byrd. "Uh--"

"Follow her," she said. Her hand grabbed his wrist and she started after the NPC without hesitated. Kenneth tensed heart pounding in his chest a moment before he snatched his wrist back. Byrd threw a confused look back at him. He just jogged after her, shoving both hands back in his pockets for good measure.

Byrd came to a halt beside the NPC and looked up to her. "You got somewhere for us to go?" she asked, cocking her head. 

Kenneth stood back a foot or so, watching the silent NPC. The girl turned and patted one of the large crates beside the door. Then she tapped the panel on the top and opened it up.

Sliding around to Byrd's other side, Kenneth peered down into it. He cocked his head. Food?  Brow furrowing he looked back at Byrd who was rubbing at her lower lip with one thumb. Kenneth stepped aside. "This some sort of supply run, you think?"

"I think?" Byrd glanced back at the unusually silent NPC. "Are we supposed to drop this off somewhere?" 

The young woman nodded her head and then pointed behind her. A wall high of boxes sat there, half draped in a large brown tarp marked with unreadable signs. Kenneth edges over there but Byrd cut ahead of him. "Hey, I know those signs. Those are coordinates..." she whispered.

Kenneth stepped up behind her and leaned back. His eyes skimmed over the boxes, widening as the numbers rose. There were at least fifteen in the room. How are we suppose to move all of that discreetly?

"Where do they go?" He asked after a moment, chewing his lower lip. This wasn't gonna be easy. Then again, only Quests below Level 5 were "easy". 

Byrd glanced back. "They go to the Grain Factories over in the East. At least, that assumes I've translated properly. I haven't actually read Graft in a long time," she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. Then she spun around and faced him. "That's gonna be a long haul."

He nodded slowly, eyes still fixed on the boxes. With a sigh, he tilted his head back. "Yeah, it's gonna be a long way. We need something to transport them in. I wonder..." His eyes trailed over to the NPC. "You have anything to carry these in?"

She remained where she was at the door, not responding. The box beside her was closed again and she stared off deep into space. Kenneth shook his head. She's no help now. Her part is probably done. He pursed his lips and squinted at the wall of boxes. "We need a truck. This is a bar, and a city, there oughta be one around here somewhere right?"

Byrd grinned and nodded. "I like the way you think. Stay here, I'll see what I can hijack."

Kenneth threw out a hand in front of her chest. "Hold up. You have the sk--"

"I'm a Grafter?" she said, pointing to the wires that extended as her hair. Her eyebrows lifted with a bit of a smile. Then she ducked under his arm. "I'm built for this. Literally." Turning, she headed out of the backroom, walking right past the NPC.

Watching her go, Kenneth put his arm down. She's capable for sure. I wonder what level? He shrugged it off after a moment and just walked over to the boxes. He leaned back, gazing around the dim room. A little bit of noise lingered from the open bar beside them, but most of it was obscured by the low notes of the games background music. If he listened deeply he could almost hear the click of the oxygen lines outside the game keeping him breathing and alive.

A shudder ran down his spine and he shook his head, looking at the floor. Straightening up, he opened his sidebar again and checked his inventory. We're gonna need some better protection than just my pistol if we're gonna get all of this to the East factories. He pulled out his modded blaster and checked the charge. Half power. He frowned. It would work, but he'd need to buy more power cells soon. He opened the inventory again and checked to see if he had any, but they were only the pistol packs. He closed it and slung the blaster strap over his shoulder, letting it hang against his lightly armored chest.

His eyes drifted to the NPC standing stock-still by the door. He'd never met a silent NPC before, but this game continued to surprise him each and every day. He leaned his head back and stretched his neck. Byrd should be back soon, granted nothing had gone wrong. There were no guarantees, though. His eyes flickered to his game bar displaying HP, Coins, Level, and Skills. He frowned, his gut twisting a little bit in hindsight. Probably should have gotten her GameTag so we could chat while apart. He shook his head. Nothing he could do about it now.

Shifting closer to the door, he peered out into the busy street. His heart leaped to his throat. He tried to swallow, his pulse racing. A shiver ran through him and he looked down, putting a hand to his head. That's not right. He inhaled deeply, hearing a loud click from outside the game. He pressed a hand to his avatar chest, unable to feel a heartbeat from the character. Cold panic washed over him. Stop, stop. The avatar doesn't have a heartbeat. Calm down.

Inhaling deeply he closed his eyes and opened them again. A chilly hand gripped him, though, sending goosebumps over his skin outside the game. The music was fading around him, replaced by the vague sound of voices. He turned, backing away from the door, hands trembling. He gulped down air, face paling. Everything grew fuzzy, blurring into a pixelated mass. He yelped.

Light washed around him. Robotic arms pulled away his VR headset. Kenneth gasped, writhing as he began to recognize his hospital room surroundings. He jerked, his chest hurting. Monitors screamed around him. He panted, struggling to get air.

Mental hands held him back, medical bots zipping around the room.

"Please remain calm," a voice droned. 

Kenneth's eyes flickered up to the bot that had spoken. He coughed, gasping again. His chest clenched and his stomach flipped in fear. He grabbed for the front of his hospital garb. His hand fell limp halfway, though. His eyes widened.

"Please remain calm," the droid repeated. 

The room began to blur. Kenneth tried to cry out but his mouth was dry and his lungs burning. He leaned his head back, squirming and fighting for air. His skin grew clammy and his blood felt like it was slowly turning to lead. He threw a wild glance up at one of the shimmering white bots holding him while injecting something into his IV.

"Help..." he cried hoarsely. 

The bot finished its injection and it's bright blue eyes turned to him. They blurred, filling Kenneth's vision as he grasped weakly at the metal hand. His fingers slipped and the room turned to gray. He shuddered deeply, barely able to feel the tears of panic rolling down his cold cheeks. Another metal hand gripped him, pressing another needle into his skin.

"Please remain calm."