Exiting the mine, Sean let the thought of players dying from just not being the right race sink in. The thought was frightening. Why would someone design a game with that feature? Mark grabbed his arm to stop him, causing him to snap out of his thoughts to follow his eyes. The gate didn't open to let them out. Instead, what looked like the stump of a tree with a bird bath was glowing with golden veins in the shadows by the gate. It was hidden enough that they hadn't noticed it when going in. Mark squeezed his arm, telling him seriously. "I'll check it out." Sean shot Mark an unsatisfied look but let him go. He was too rattled to fight with him. Mark approached the basin and Sean flinched as a little screen appeared before Mark. Mark read what it said, then told Sean calmly. "It's an exit from this mine. I'm gonna try it." Sean approached, telling him to be careful. Mark put his hand over the bowl, then winced as a tree root like spike shot up from the center to impale his hand. Sean jerked back, clutching his own hand as he watched the bowl fill with Mark's blood. Mark flexed his fingers while his palm was impaled, telling Sean gruffly. "It doesn't hurt that bad. Just tingles."

The blood in the wooden bowl glowed a bright pink and with a flash of light, Mark vanished from one side of the gate to reappear on the other side. Once he was on the other side, the spike retracted from his hand and the basin emptied as it absorbed the blood. Standing close to the bars of the fence, Mark told him comfortingly. "It's ok, Sean." Sean shook his head, stammering out to him. "Mark... I can't..." Grabbing the bars, Mark told him sweetly. "Sean, listen to me. It doesn't hurt. It just surprised me. You can do it." Sean shook his head. His fear of being stabbed bubbling to the surface. Reaching through the bars, Mark told him in a warm voice. "Sean... Jack?" Sean stiffened, his eyes darting up to lock with Mark's. Mark hadn't called him that in years. Despite being called Jack for most of his life, whenever Mark said it, it felt personal. Sean had regretted telling Mark to use his real name to please his old girlfriend. He felt like it had robbed him of the close connection they shared once. The first wound to be inflicted before the fall of Septiplier.

The nickname got his full attention and Mark took advantage of it to tell him confidently. "You can do it. I'm right here. I won't let anything happen to you." Sean raised a shaky hand to reach for Mark's hand. Mark's fingers curled around his, giving them a little squeeze, before he told him in a powerful deep voice. "If I can do it. You can do it. I believe in you, Jack." Nodding shakily, Sean released Mark's fingers and approached the basin. The little screen popped up and he read to himself. 'This is an Yggdrasil Blood Alter Basin. To exit the mini boss room, pay blood to return to the safety of town and save your data within the roots of Yggdrasil.' Taking a deep breath, he put his hand over the bowl. Finding out in seconds that Mark had lied. The root spike impaled his hand, bringing Sean to his knees as pain flared up through his arm. Why did the pain feel so real? Letting out a sharp distressed cry, he heard Mark tell him seriously. "Stay still, Sean. It's almost done." Sean gasped for air as the pink light blurred his vision and he was suddenly beside Mark.

The root spike then retracted from his hand, allowing Sean to cradle his hand against his chest. Mark dropped down to his knees in front of him, putting his hands on his shoulders as he said in relief. "Good job. I knew you could do it." Glaring up at Mark, Sean sneered out angrily. "You lied. That HURT!" Mark blushed a little, mumbling out. "I know. But I knew you wouldn't do it if you knew that." Helping him up onto his feet, Mark told him in a sweeter voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you stuck in there." Sean nodded, not willing to say anything else until he calmed down. Draping an arm over his shoulder, Mark playfully told him with a hopeful smile. "I'll massage your hand when we get healed up. Alright?" Sean shoved Mark a bit but smiled to himself. He recalled that Mark was pretty good at it, and it was a good excuse to keep Mark's hands on him a bit longer. Mark's arm moved off his shoulders, causing Sean's heart to ache from the loss of contact. He was too emotionally fragile right now.

While walking toward the stone steps that led up into town, Sean's mind drifted off before he told Mark distantly. "It's strange... The Yggdrasil Basin is still working like this is all just a game. Saving data like we can respawn... It's so... surreal." Mark agreed, adding coolly over his shoulder. "Ya, it is a bit jarring to think about. But whatever the Game Master did to the game, it seems to be mostly external. Let's just hope that doesn't cause the game to glitch. Who knows what will happen to us if that happens." Sean eased to a stop before the steps, uttering out uneasily. "Mark... What happens if the equipment overheats from extended use? This is only the first day of release. All games have unforeseen issues at the start... and with how full the server is..." Mark turned around, telling him seriously. "I'm sure it will be fine. The hospital has people and equipment given to them by the company. Whatever issues happen... I doubt the Game Master will let them linger for long. If we're an experiment... He can't just let the rats die before they run the maze. Right?"

Sean nodded in an attempt to convince himself, but he wasn't completely satisfied with that answer. Mark tapped his shoulder, then tensed as a shadow fell over them. They both glanced up to the top of the stairs, watching people scattering and mumbling to each other in fear. A small group was heading their way and just the sight of them gave Sean chills. The group was entirely made up of the Draugr race. They looked like emaciated skeletons. Their thin grey skin looked dried and leathery over their skeletal frames. Some Draugr had long ears like Elves. Others looked like Humans or Aesir. There was only one Dwarf and a Giant Draugr. As they approached them, a bannered black and gold title appeared over them that read. 'The Specters of Death Guild. Their motto: Tempus Fugit, Memento Mori.' As their usernames appeared when they descended the steps near them, Sean gasped and backed up. Each of the players had a red skull beside their name with an hourglass on its forehead. The symbol for Player Killers.

The nearest player to him stopped and tilted his skeleton head at him. The Human Draugr didn't have normal eyes. Instead, within its dark eye sockets were bright menacing blue orbs. The Draugr lifted its battle axe, showing off the fresh blood stains on it, before opening its skeleton mouth to allow a grey tongue to lick the sharp edge. The sight of him made Sean's stomach churn. How many players had they killed to rank up and get here? Mark lifted a hand out across Sean's body in a gesture to protect him. The unblinking eyes of the Draugr slowly turned to lock eyes with Mark. The remaining skin over its lips curling into a sinister grin. The Draugr removed what looked like a bloodied copper coin from a tattered leather pouch on his belt. Showing Mark the two different sides, the Draugr laid it over his thumb and flicked it into the air. Sean watched the coin rotate in the air, then jumped in surprise as the Draugr's skeletal hand shot out to snatch the coin and flattened it over the back of his weapon wielding hand.

Slowly raising his hand off the coin, the Draugr peeked at it with interest. Mark's hand touched Sean's waist, telling him seriously. "He can't hurt us here. The towns are a safe zone." The Draugr let out a deep sigh, revealing the coin for them to see. The coin read around circular edges, 'Fac Vitam Incredibilis, Memento Vivere.' The center of the coin had a skull wearing a flower crown and was holding a sunflower between its teeth. Slipping the coin back into his little pouch, the Draugr's chilling distorted voice told Mark in a rather eerily calm natured tone. "True... it just means I have to be patient. Lucky for you though... you get to carpe diem. Seize the day." The Draugr glanced at his friends that were heading to the gate, before adding in a sickly sweet tone. "Memento Vivere, Boys. Until next we meet." Mark remained tense until the Draugr moved away. Sean didn't want to but couldn't help himself as he called out to the Draugr. "Hey! If you plan to take on the mini boss, you should reconsider. Draugr like you won't be able to beat him without a living Elf in your party!"

The other Draugr chuckled amongst themselves, before the Elven Draugr piped up smugly. "Aww, the little fairy is concerned for us." Mark pulled on Sean's arm, telling him firmly. "Don't waste your breath." Sean's wings twitched in agitation. He turned to follow Mark, when the Elven Draugr called out teasingly. "Don't worry, little Twink. You can't kill what's already dead." Sean scowled, mumbling out to Mark. "Arseholes." Following Mark up the steps, Sean asked him discreetly. "I don't understand people like that... Don't they know what is happening? How can they be so... stupid." Mark exhaled, replying stiffly. "Video games change people. Shows the kind of person they want to be verses who they really are on the outside." Sean glanced back and regretted it. The Elven Draugr was standing apart from his group now, staring up at him with a grin. Meeting his eyes, the Draugr put his fingers to his temple and pretended to pull the trigger, before pointing his finger gun at him and doing the same.

Whirling around, Sean picked up his pace to walk beside Mark. Heading into the tavern, the place was a lot more crowded now with players. Mark guided him to their corner, listening to players talk to each other with worried voices. Some were trying to form parties. Others were discussing setting up a residence in the city before the homes were all sold out. As they slipped into their chairs, Sean overheard a group nearby talking about something that unsettled him. The Dwarven man of the group told his Vanir female comrades nervously. "I swear... I feel it. It's true. I've got desires to stay around mountain terrains and I'm craving something strong to drink... and you know I don't drink..." A red headed Vanir woman took a shaky breath, before telling her friends. "I feel it too. I want to start a herbal garden and rise animals. I've lost my desire to fight... I have nothing to prove. Is that normal for the Vanir race?" Her friends shifted nervously, before telling the Dwarf. "Should we be concerned? Why is this happening? WE are playing our characters... right?"

The Dwarf cleared his throat, then told them with a little shrug. "Yes... but it seems our racial traits dictate how we interact with things and people. How our personalities develop..." The blonde Vanir woman scoffed, blurting out a bit darkly. "Fuck... I wonder if there is a way to change your race in this game. I don't want to turn into a hippy. I only chose the Vanir to be a... badass nature goddess. But if the Vanir race avoids war... What's the point of them?" Mark glanced at the table that Sean was listening intently to, before asking him curiously. "Sean? What's wrong?" Sean blinked, his eyes looking over Mark before he asked gently. "Mark? Do you feel... different?" Mark munched on the free bread on the table, chuckling out around a mouthful. "Different in what way? You mean what I said before about people changing in games?" Sean shook his head, waiting for the NPC barmaid to place down the food that Mark had ordered for them.

When she left, Sean cupped his hands around a tankard of mead, asking discreetly. "No. I mean... do you feel like your racial traits are influencing you to do things?" Mark picked at the meat on his plate, shaking his head as he shrugged out innocently. "No. Why? Here. Eat. Your health is really low." Sean shrugged, pushing the plate of meat away from himself with a disapproving look as he told him distractedly. "I don't want that. Mark, I'm serious. I can hear some of these people talking and I'm concerned that we might be-" Mark cut him off, pointing to the plate of meat as he asked curiously. "Aren't you hungry? You ate that earlier." Rolling his eyes, Sean pulled the vegetable plate closer, almost snapping back. "No, Mark. I didn't. You did. I ate the vegetables that you didn't. Are you listening to me?" Mark smirked, telling him honestly. "I'm listening. But I don't understand what you're saying exactly." Sean inhaled, trying to think of a simpler way of saying it, but froze.

Tensing, he stared down at his plate and Mark's. Mark leaned in, asking with light concern. "Are you ok?" Sean swallowed, then told Mark openly. "Mark... I don't think I can eat meat anymore." Mark snorted, slipping a piece of meat into his mouth, before he said with a shrug. "Of course, you can." Sean shook his head, almost whispering out. "No. I... I feel sick just thinking about it..." Mark pushed a piece of meat toward him, telling him calmly. "It's just been a hard day. Eat to keep your stat bars up." Slowly reaching out to pull off a piece of juicy glazed meat, Sean found himself hesitating to eat it. It smelled delicious... but his stomach churned in warning. His hand shook as he put the meat into his mouth, but closing his eyes, he started to chew. The flavors rolled over his tongue, but when he swallowed... his throat tightened, and his stomach heaved before the food had even reached his stomach. Falling off the seat, Sean dropped over a bucket by the table and hurled.

Mark jerked in surprise, catching the eyes of everyone in the tavern. Sean spit the foul taste from his mouth, watching an information screen appear and in spite he read it aloud to Mark. "Elves of Alfheim are vegetarians, pescatarians, and insectivores. The Realm of Alfheim is known for its lush green landscapes, but not for its game animals. It is believed that the Elves' light weight is also the resulting factor in Elves being unable to process the grease and heavy proteins in game meats. Resulting in their lighter choice in diet." Glancing at Mark, Sean panted out a bit strained. "Understand now, Mark?" Mark winced guilty, scraping his vegetables onto Sean's plate as he said sweetly. "Sorry, Sean. My bad." To Be Continued...  

Translations: 'Fac Vitam Incredibilis, Memento Vivere.' = (Latin) 'Make an Incredible life, remember that you have to live." 'Tempus Fugit, Memento Mori.' = (Latin) 'Time flies, remember that you have to die.'