Sang frowned. "Fredlin, I don't have time to explain all of this to you, but you've got to know that your plan won't work. The clock is ticking right now, and we're rerouting our forces to attack the Emperor. You're the highest level wizard we've got, so please – use a few spells to stop the Emperor's protection power and we can win this."
"I don't think you get it, Sang," Fredlin replied as he wrapped his hand around the orb. "I've already made up my mind. We're killing some members of Draco today!"
"Don't!" Sang shouted, lurching toward him, but she was too late. Fredlin crushed the sequence activator. A bright flash lit up the entire area for a split second and the words Lethal Feedback has been authorized in this area appeared high in the air in bright red letters.
All of the fighting ceased for a brief moment as everyone, the dragons included, looked at the letters. They stared upward in silence until there was a loud shout from a player that was followed by the very realistic sounds of a dragon screaming as it died. Chaos broke out again.
"See? No one's running!" Sang shouted. "I should kill you for this!"
"For what? Having the guts to actually end this?" Fredlin replied as he shook his head. "Come on – let's get to Jet. It's time to win this damn thing."
"You're going to regret this," Sang said as she shook her head. "I guarantee it."
"What's one more regret to add to the list?"
Van was hanging on the side of the dragon's leg, refusing to let go. The Emperor was roaring and bellowing as it tried unsuccessfully to shake him off. The fight was getting exhausting for everyone, and the clock on Van's Fierce Rage timer had expired. Now he was exhausted, fatigued and immobile for 5 minutes. Fortunately, he had managed to grab onto an area of the dragon where it couldn't reach him and he was holding on for dear life. The Fierce Rage power would reset soon, he knew, and he would be able to fight freely once again at that point.
"Hahaha, you made quite the gamble with that power," the Emperor said as it ceased fighting and thrashing. "I am pleased with you, Van."
"Go to hell!" Van replied.
"Ahahaha, truly, you are a poet," the Emperor replied. "Are you ready to discuss terms now?"
Maybe Van could run the clock on his inability to move by talking to the dragon for a while. He made a point of letting out an obnoxious sigh. "Alright, what do you want from me?"
"The better question is, my friend, what is it that you want from me? What would it take to get you to join me in my cosmic quest to conquer the universe?"
"A million dollars," Van replied.
This response elicited more laughter from the Emperor. "I love your sarcasm so much. You know the word 'sarcasm' comes from the word 'Sarcos', which means 'to cut'. I learned that in my millennia of studying your culture."
"I didn't realize you were an English teacher," Van answered. "Now I understand why you're evil."
"Another joke," the Emperor said, but without a chuckle this time. Van could hear a twinge of frustration in his voice. "When will you tire of jocularity? Look out at your forces – they are entangled in an endless mess. You have no back-up here. Your best efforts have failed. Why cling to death in spite of what I can offer you? Tell me what you want, Van."
"I really just want to keep my people alive," Van replied. "Maybe you don't get it because you've spent your whole life fearing your own kind and then choosing to subdue them, but most races would prefer to keep the members of their species alive. Even someone in a remote village, someone who I will never see… I would rather he stay alive than die right now."
"Feh," the Emperor grunted, "but you must enlighten me, Van, because I don't understand why you care. Why care about someone who isn't you? Especially when there is nothing you can do to save them."
"We call it morality," Van replied. He felt a glimmer of hope here, coming with the dragon's seeming willingness to listen. Perhaps the Draco simply didn't understand human morality due to their collectivist viewpoints. Maybe he could make a good point that would change the Emperor's mind.
"Morality – ah yes, of course. Good and evil and all of that," the Emperor replied. "An outdated system if I have ever heard of one. The base assumption of morality is that everyone plays by the same rules. We all agree that murder is bad, but does that stop a murderer? Morality is nothing more than an invention meant to make you feel safe in a cruel and callous world."
"That's not true," Van replied. "Morality is a base human instinct. We all follow some kind of moral law."
"And so that governs you? You let morality control you? You are as much a slave as these Draco are to their own foolish ideals. I made a choice a long time ago, Van, to never let anything control me. Nothing owns me. I am free and it is a glorious thing. I'm asking you to wake up here. You will gain nothing by following this system. In fact, you will lose everything if you do follow your conventional morality. The moment you defeat me is the moment that this game ceases to exist for all eternity. Your home, Van. It will be gone, all because you chose conventional morality because it was the right thing to do," the Emperor mocked. He was a little too gleeful with his own words for Van's taste.
"I'm not doing something because its arbitrary," Van said. "There are people on this planet who I care about. Sang, for one."
"So what? Bring her, too," the Emperor said. "I quite like Sang. I've gone back and forth on recruiting her directly, but decided against it when she kept pressing on after I sent that suicide agent after her. I figured that would dissuade her, but no, it didn't."
"I doubt Sang would come with me," Van replied. Then, he stiffened at hearing his own words. He hadn't meant to say that… he'd meant to say that he would never join the Draco. Why had he said that instead?
"So? Leave her, then. Leave this whole world behind and come join a new one. You can even recreate your own planet if you like, in a simulation. You could be the star of your own sitcom, a world where no one ever gets terminally ill… a world where you always have a good time. You could create your own heaven, Van."
Van glanced at his timer. Holy crap, his plan was working. He had about thirty seconds left on his exhaustion. He couldn't believe this had worked so well. Apparently, the Emperor liked to hear himself talk more than anything.
"You know what?" Van asked the Emperor. "There's more to life than leisure. More to life than pleasure. I've spent a great deal of my life avoiding anything close to work. Ironically, I've spent the last three months of my life working harder than I ever have. It's shocking, honestly. But it's also been the most fulfilling experience I've ever had. I'm not going to join you, no matter what you offer me."
"You say that," the Emperor replied, "but let's see how you feel once there is no hope of winning."
"If I can't win, then I'll go down with the ship!" Van said, his voice lifting into a shout at the end of the statement as he felt energy surge back into his body. The effects of the Fierce Rage were finally over, and now he would be able to move and fight again. Mobility never felt so good.
"Oh, you were just distracting me, weren't you?" the Emperor realized. "My goodness, do I feel embarrassed. It's just rare to talk to another being that has independence and the ability to think for itself. Well, good on you for pulling one over on me. Not like it's going to help."
Van grabbed his warhammer and readied for another round of fighting. He only hoped that Sang would be able to find Fredlin soon.
"I suppose you're going to want to keep crawling around and poking at me in the hopes that you'll find my weak spot, one which will kill me instantly?" the Emperor commented. "Very well, let us resume our – " his words were interrupted as a bright flash came across the entire room.