Blessed Combat

26 - Project Blackwood

 “So...what are you doing sitting there? Open it up.” Euphino barked lightly, slightly impatient with Arma’s hesitation. The brunette didn’t blame him though. This was such a... unexpected turn of events. It was amazing just how a single envelope carried so much pressure. Everyone, including Poppy, was anticipating for something, for answers that was never revealed till now. Gulping nothing but air, Arma slid one finger under the opening flap, tearing it open smoothly. He then warily fished his hands inside and pulled out a white paper which only had several wrinkles in the corner, contradicting itself with the condition of the envelope.

“Here goes nothing...” Arma spoke out loud, finding comfort and bearing when uttering it. He slowly unfolded the piece of paper and read the first line which not only grabbed his attention straight away, it made his breathing go hitched up in his throat, closing all air supply into his lungs.

Dear Sawyer McGilvary,

“He knows who I am?” Arma mused out loud, clearly astonished. There was no answer from any of the other people who was waiting patiently for him to scan through the contents of the letter and summarize it to the rest of him. Even so, there was the distinctive raise of an eyebrow from Zatch, indicating that he too was slightly taken aback. Then again, Arma remembered that Oliver had known his real identity without him knowing and he did mention that the Phantom Dancer knew him outside of Blessed Combat, back when Earth still moved. Taking a deep breath, Arma decided to rest the other people’s anxiety by reading it out loud, as a way to blow steam from all the pressure.

You must have a lot of questions regarding with the unnatural occurring in this world and the reason behind several thousand player’s, including yours, memory losses. As you have pieced together by now, it is true that I am the source of the memory losses, because it was necessary. I had to do it because I had to protect this world, protect this world that I have so dearly tried to create for my family.

“The Phantom Dancer is the creator of this game?!” Stabs cried out, interrupting Arma’s reading without knowing. This earned urgent hiss from both Euphino and Zatch, only the curly haired lad was glaring daggers at Stabs which was enough for him to shrink back in his chair in fear and in sudden obedience.

“We don’t know about that Stabs. The creator had several thousand of people to help him create this virtual game so we can’t just straight away tag the creator as the Phantom Dancer. Do continue on Arma, this could be another break we could be looking for.” Zatch reasoned and prodded on. Arma hesitantly nodded in agreement as he mirrored Stab’s shock at the first paragraph. He too had thought the Phantom Dancer was the creator, but after listening to Zatch, he wasn’t so sure.

First off, regarding the matter of the memory losses, it is because that there are players out there who wishes to steal my work because I made a discovery and created something that those group calls it a ‘miracle’. They do not wish to share this miracle with everyone; they only wish to use this miracle to their own selfish desires. On that day, the Taboo as people would like to call it, they were very close in catching my creation to exploit and dismantle my miracle. Unfortunately, in the end, it turned into the result of destroying more than half of the stage. I knew after the damage was done, we cannot live like this anymore. We cannot continue to hide and run away from egotistical hands. I had to do something, for my family and what better way to erase everyone’s memory of the Taboo so they would have no recollection of my miracle being into existence?