Distortion (Somnia Online Book 5) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Map of Tarishna

  Map of Cenedril

  Books by KT Hanna

  Previously in Somnia...

  Chapter One: Toll

  Chapter Two: Outside

  Chapter Three: Echoes

  Chapter Four: Back

  Chapter Five: Creeping

  Chapter Six: Riasli

  Chapter Seven: Mutate

  Chapter Eight: Dungeons

  Chapter Nine: Truly Deeply

  Chapter Ten: Flip Side

  Chapter Eleven: Sanity's Sake

  Chapter Twelve: Illinish in the Flesh

  Chapter Thirteen: Trapdoors

  Chapter Fourteen: Stairs

  Chapter Fifteen: Ghosts

  Chapter Sixteen: MotherMind

  Chapter Seventeen: Tunnel Vision

  Chapter Eighteen: Octodieh

  Chapter Nineteen: Clezdil

  Chapter Twenty: Dragon Fire

  Chapter Twenty-One: Home

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Firtulai

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Richnai

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Gnomes

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Trial or Die

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Second Trial

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: How?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Pass

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Into the Darkness

  Chapter Thirty: Upheaval

  Chapter Thirty-One: Down the Drain

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Into the Mind

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Gnomore

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Insanity

  Appendix LitRPG Group

  Glossary

  Character Names

  Murmur

  Acknowledgments

  Landmarks

  Cover

  SOMNIA ONLINE: DISTORTION

  Author: K.T. Hanna

  Cover Artist: Marko Horvatin

  Typography: Bonnie Price

  Formatting & Interior Design: Caitlin Greer

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 Katie Hanna

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-948983-17-4 (Trade Paperback Edition)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-948983-18-1 (Hardback Edition)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-948983-16-7 (E-Book Edition)

  Somnia Online:

  Initializing

  Anomaly

  Fragments

  Dissonance

  Distortion

  The Domino Project:

  Chameleon

  Hybrid

  Parasite

  Pam and Carl

  thank you for everything.

  Wren’s ability to die in-game and not affect her out of game body gave her hope. Even though she suffered painful aftereffects, at least she didn’t have to hold back her guild by being overcautious.

  She didn’t expect to return to their guild base after successfully completing yet another key only to have Telvar push her out of the game.

  James’ ulterior motives have come to light, leaving Laria and Shayla scrambling to cover their tracks.

  Laria ran out of the office faster than she ever had in her life. She didn’t care who saw her. She didn’t care if there were more spies in the operation. All she knew was that she had to get back to her house and daughter before the military beat her there.

  She summoned a car on the way to the elevator and overrode the stops once the elevator got to her. Was it abuse of her power? Sure, but now was an exception. She’d fight anyone to the death who tried to say otherwise.

  An email dinged at her when she climbed into her ride. She glanced at it after giving the car system her address and then she read the email.

  Laria

  Do not mention the connection to the game. There are things that must be discussed. Disguise as best possible. Thra is diverting their route to buy you time.

  Rav

  Laria blinked at the message, trying to clear her eyes just in case she was seeing things. Nope. Definitely an email from the AI. Wonders would never cease. David would want to know. Of course he would. So she shot off a message to him, glad of the reminder that communication worked. Her head wasn’t working properly. Its focus was solely on Wren and if she’d be okay. How had she been shot out of the game? It happened so suddenly she’d not had a chance to figure out anything before she dashed out of the door.

  It was a short ride to the family condo, and she tipped the service well before jumping out and taking the steps two at a time to the door.

  She burst into the apartment and raced up the stairs, threw open the door and stopped short. Tears welled in her eyes, and she could feel her body shaking. The relief that suffused her made her legs jelly-like, and she stumbled against the doorjamb.

  Wren drew in a gulping breath. Air flooded into her lungs faster than intended. She coughed, and it made her chest ache with the action. She tried to open her eyes again, but they felt like they were crusted closed. Whether by disuse or some sort of virus, that inability flared panic through her system. The rest of her senses were taking their time coming online.

  It was all she could do to slow her breathing down and make herself completely aware of her surroundings. She could hear machines beeping behind her, like a metronome threatening to stop at any moment. Their cadence was soothing and alarming all at once, like a warning she should heed.

  Her eyes fluttered open again, and she realized the crusty feeling was probably from being dormant for more than two months. She had no idea how much time had passed since Telvar pushed her out of Somnia. Her mind still swam in confusion. Voices she shouldn’t be able to hear, from a place that didn’t really exist, still echoed through her head like they were standing in the room with her.

  Sinister’s tone bit through the air as if the blood-mage stood right next to her. “What have you done? Why? Tell me!” Even down to the hissed breath she drew in. The anger settled in her throat like Wren knew it would, because that was how fiercely Sinister protected what she cared about.

  Barks rang in Wren’s ears, like Snowy was angry at the sudden vacancy in his head the way she was still reeling from the one in hers. It left behind a strange and lonely sensation Wren didn’t like.

  She could hear the others to a lesser extent. Perhaps because they weren’t as close to her as Sinister and Snowy had been…were even. However that worked.

  The capsule felt like home. At the same time, it was a prison she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave. What if she couldn’t go back to Somnia?

  You can come back.

  “Good to know.” She tried to mumble, but it came out like an indeterminate croak.

  Wren shut her eyes and reached out tentatively with her mind. She wanted to understand if the voices were real or just an echo of her imagination. Had that reassurance been her own thoughts, her own desperation? Or had Riasli hitched a ride out of the game world in her head? But as she touched one voice, a cacophony of others tried to inundate her, and she pulled back, shaking.

  It wasn’t the time to dwell on where she’d come from. This was her room. Her real room. Not one in a fabricated reality. Not one in her imagination. Her eyes had finally started to focus again, and everything around her was sharper now, solid.

  She pushed herself up, or she tried to, but her arms buckled against even holding up her torso weight
. With a yelp of pain, she held her hands up to look at them. A blood oxygen meter was fixed to her left pointer finger with stubborn tape. Its red glowing numbers hurt her eyes.

  “Damn it.” Again the word wouldn’t escape her throat.

  She fought against the panic that began to rise in her chest. The heaviness of her limbs tried to drag her down. Skin pulled against her bones. She could tell she’d lost weight while in the capsule, regardless of being fed nutrients through the IV still attached to her arm. If she concentrated, she was sure she could feel the IV and what it fed her as it traveled through her veins, but it was probably just the aftereffects of her virtual reality journey.

  Hunger growled in the depths of her stomach, and suddenly she was famished.

  The sides of the capsule felt like they were closing in ever so slowly. She wanted to get out, but her arms felt brittle. It was hard enough to push herself into a half sitting position.

  Apparently, the capsule’s ability to make sure your muscles didn’t atrophy wasn’t supposed to extend to a three month stay. They’d have to rethink that in the redesign. Wren laughed, which resulted in another coughing fit, and she grimaced as she slowly worked her way to sitting fully upright. The sheer amount of energy it took to reach that position left her breathless.

  Panting, she tried making her hands into fists and stretching them out again while she regained her composure. Even that small exertion showed her how weak her grip had become.

  Suddenly, she heard a door slam.

  Footsteps raced through the condo, and up the stairs. Her bedroom door smashed open, the handle indenting the wall behind it with a resounding thud.

  “Hey,” Laria’s voice sounded sweeter than anything Wren had heard in a long time, but she found it difficult to turn well enough to see her mother.

  Finally, Wren looked up at her mom, not happy with how long the action took her. Everything was happening so slowly. It was like the muscles had forgotten how to move her actual body. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this. “Hey.”

  She managed to reply to her mother, but it barely sounded like more than a deep breath. Wren cringed and used all the energy she could muster to raise her right hand to the side of the capsule. She tried to grip the sides of it with her hands, but her fingers barely obeyed. Her grip was weak, and her little fist clenching hadn’t done anything to help like she’d hoped.

  In her head, she’d thought she’d wake up and jump out of the capsule and be fine. But realistically, her limbs had been doing nothing for three months. And while she’d have been far worse off had she not been in a capsule, the simulation of movement wasn’t quite right when those same legs never moved at all.

  Laria crouched down resting her hands next to Wren’s. Her mother’s eyes were shadowed, concerned, yet there was this suppressed joy surrounding her that leaked over to Wren. With her mother that obviously happy to see her, it was difficult to remain irritated at the situation.

  “Wrennie.” Her mom bent her head forward and touched their foreheads together. The moment drew out, and all Wren could think of was the warmth of her mom, of being back in the real world, and the tangible proof that she was alive. “Oh, Wrennie.”

  There was a hitch to her mother’s voice, and Wren knew she didn’t want to look up and see the tears falling, because she wasn’t even sure if she could produce her own anymore. She gripped her mother’s hand in return as hard as she could. Which wasn’t much, but the closeness, the smells, the feeling…it flooded her senses with abandon like a lifeline trying to reel her in.

  Laria hugged her tighter, just for a moment, and even with that movement, she knew her mother was being careful of her current status. For a second the older woman leaned back and looked at her daughter, tears running down her cheeks.

  Then she leaned in and kissed Wren soundly on the forehead. “I thought I lost you.”

  Laria’s voice croaked, but at least the words were distinguishable. And she hugged Wren tight once more. As much as Wren wanted to say something in return, her throat was so parched from lack of real water that it wasn’t remotely possible.

  Laria crouched down next to the capsule, her expression serious. “I don’t want to worry you. But we have about ten or so minutes to get you out of that capsule and looking like you’re not half dead.”

  “Great,” Wren croaked out, wincing as she did so.

  “I’m such an idiot.” Her mom stood up and looked around frantically. Locating a small fridge in the corner she dived for it and brought back a water bottle.

  The clear liquid had never tasted so good, or so real. It sure beat the shit for taste they programmed into the game water.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Wren smiled. Her voice was there. Not loud, and still raspy with disuse, but it was there. Her throat felt better already too. “Now what?”

  Laria cringed. “Yeah, about that. We had a spy in our office. And our rich headset sponsors—who happen to be military—are on their way over to determine your status. Your account was flagged for odd activity, and James monitored it. I assume, anyway.”

  That didn’t sound good. Different scenarios danced through Wren’s head. An idea popped into existence, but it would be difficult to pull it off.

  “Help get me out,” she said, but first motioned to the water bottle and took another drink.

  “Let’s get some of these bits and bobs off you first.” Her mother’s voice was gentle, and the worry spilled over what she probably thought was calm and collected.

  Wren didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise as she pulled the IV and taped it with cotton to absorb any excess blood. Then she watched her mother unwind the tape from around the blood-oxygen meter and tug it away from her hand.

  Finally, with everything tethering her to the capsule disconnected and the machines finally shut off, Laria wrapped an arm under Wren’s shoulders and leaned down to scoop out her legs in fireman carry. It was far too easy for her mother to carry her. Since they were similar in stature, Wren knew the weight she’d lost probably worried them both.

  “On the rim.” Even the exertion of holding onto her mother, of being moved—that tired Wren out. But she couldn’t afford to show how much. She needed to clamp down on it now. Not necessarily for her mother’s sake, but for the visitors they were about to receive. Wren didn’t like the sound of the military investors and what that made them entitled to.

  Obligingly, even if she kept shooting her daughter questioning looks, Laria settled Wren at the end part of the capsule with her right arm leaning against the rounded head piece. Wren took another swig of water to steady herself. Even the damned water bottle felt like it was a ten-pound weight.

  It had taken too much of their precious time, but Wren needed to seem perfectly okay. Surprised, even. Her mother leaned forward to unhook the headset, but Wren brushed her away.

  “It’s just me, taking a break from the game. Goodness, what do these people want?” By the time she finished the sentence, Wren’s voice was dry again. She gulped down some more water, her irritation nipping at the back of her mind.

  Laria hesitated at first, but then nodded and grabbed the chair near the bed so she could appear to be sitting with her daughter.

  “Tell dad?” Wren asked. Trying desperately to fight some of the dryness of her throat. It began to hurt a little in the back right, tugging at every word she tried to utter.

  “Yeah. He knows, but he’s not about to barge in.” Laria perched on her stool like she wanted to envelop Wren in a hug, and her daughter appreciated the restraint more than ever. It was difficult enough for her to stay in this casual-appearing lean stance. It took a stupid amount of strength to pull off. A hug would undo her.

  Wren was about to ask how much longer they had, but it was answered for her by the loud knocking on the front door below. Laria stood up and nodded at Wren before heading down.

 
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she yelled in response to renewed efforts to bash down the door and call it a knock.

  Wren took another deep breath, feeling like her lungs were rusty.

  He says she’s okay, Sin.

  It sounded like Havoc was reasoning with the blood mage.

  He’s probably lying! I’m logging out and heading over there.

  Sin didn’t sound rational, and Wren couldn’t blame her. The conversations were carrying on in the back of her mind, like a soft accompaniment. It would probably take Harlow about thirty minutes to log out and hoof it over. Hopefully everything else would be sorted by then.

  “Where is Wren Summers?” a cold and clipped voice demanded.

  There was a vague familiarity to it, but Wren focused all her concentration on remaining still. Shaking would give the game away, so she calmed herself. Breathing in and out with deliberate care. Thinking of Snowy and her friends, and how she desperately needed to have words with Telvar.

  Footsteps tromped up their metal staircase in a fast staccato beat. So many of them. Wren hoped her mom was leading the charge. She hadn’t needed to worry about that of course. Her mother was the first one to enter.

  “This is my daughter’s bedroom.” Laria spoke, filled with indignity. “Three of you may enter. The rest will remain on the landing.”

  Wren raised an eyebrow and hoped her irritated teenage smirk settled properly on her face.

  “Mom?” She was happy to hear that her voice didn’t crack this time.

  “Sorry to pull you out of the game, Wren. These people have some questions.” Her mom smiled tightly, like she didn’t want to bother her daughter.

  Wren shrugged, but tried to allow a good amount of annoyance to leak into her words when she spoke.

  “Who are you?” She directed the question to the guy in front. All she could see through his black SWAT-like uniform was his tanned skin and brown eyes.

  “Aaron Baker,” he replied, somewhat taken aback. His eyes kept darting around the room as if he was searching for something specific.