.Hack//Heist
A .Hack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun
Disclaimer: I claim ownership of nothing whatsoever related to Project .Hack, save for characters created solely within this story.
Notes: Takes place between Infection and Mutation. Parentheses indicate thoughts. What follows is a story told through two separate viewpoints. Chapters 1-13 cover the perspective of the three thieves - Dean, Shinji and Max. Chapters 14-25 depict the same events through Kite and BlackRose's point of view. Comments and critiques are more than welcome. With that said, read on and enjoy!
Chapter I - Symphony
------------
To: [email protected], [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subj: Recon
Title sketchy, tempo sketchier. Performed on strings. Maintaining intermission; if Mozart becomes suspicious, performing on wind and reducing intermission is advisable.
We are running out of time. Considering changing the title of the symphony. Will meet with you and Deisart at mezzanine to discuss, 7pm. Bach will arrive at 8.
- Tamon
Dark brown eyes blinked once, twice at the message displayed before them. (Damn this code,) thought their owner. (Could Max be more cryptic?)
He began sifting through the mass of paper covering his desk, the slender fingers of a pianist picking their way to and fro between handwritten notes, printed documents, and newspaper clippings; highlighted sections caught his eyes for fractions of seconds, calling attention to various events related to The World, and to the global economy. The words 'CC Corp', 'found comatose', and 'Key of the Twilight' appeared frequently. Player names appeared less so, excepting three in particular: 'Kite', 'Helba' and 'Tsukasa'.
(Ah, here it is.) He smiled, pulling a week-old post-it note free from the pile, the adhesive strip covered with far too much dust and dirt to be of use. He quickly scanned the contents, comparing each word with the e-mail before him.
'Target sketchy, information sketchier. Left via Sprite Ocarina. Maintaining surveillance; if Admin becomes suspicious, leaving via logout and reducing surveillance is advisable.
We are running out of time. Considering changing the target of the mission. Will meet with you and Deisart at Mac Anu to discuss, 7pm. Kite will arrive at 8.'
"Excellent." He covered his mouth and gave a wide yawn, collapsing into the leather swivel chair and propping his feet up on the desk. He drew his hand through his short, unkempt black hair and propped it behind his head as he leaned backwards, the chair creaking slightly under his weight. His eyelids slowly drooped shut, blocking the dull glare of the monitor from his sight.
The piercing whine of a ringing telephone broke his reverie, forcing him to sit up to reach the receiver. Passing it easily in his hand, he pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
The voice of a quiet young man answered him. "Hey, Dean."
"Shin, hey man." Dean smiled again. "What's up?"
"Just got Max's letter. What do you make of it?"
Dean let out a heavy sigh, failing to stifle his yawn. "Ahh, I don't know... I think it was a long shot when we were looking for Helba. Now we gotta ask some kid for help."
Shin chuckled. "I know, I know... but Altimit isn't number one for no reason, and finding an 'in' at CC Corp. is a hell of a lot easier than trying to make one."
"I thought you said it was beatable."
Another chuckle, dryer than the last. "Well, nothing's unbeatable... but trust me, this gets pretty damn close. We need a hacker, and we need to go in through The World. More to the point, we need one to do the other."
He nodded, letting out a murmur of cautious agreement. "I still don't understand why you can't do it, though."
"It's not that simple; The World is a game, the interface isn't designed for hacking. Fact is, these two are ready-made to hack from the inside, and that's why we need them. C'mon, you saw what that bird thing did to us; you think fiddling around in binary is going to get through that, much less through the backdoor?"
Dean leaned back, the chair creaking under his weight. "Whatever, it's all Greek to me. I'm just wondering what they want with year-old data. Time was, anything older than three months was practically irrelevant."
"No kidding. Well, we'll see what this 'Kite' can do for us."
"All right then. See you in an hour, Shin."
"You too."
Dean pressed the off button and set the receiver back on the base. He threw a glance at the monitor, still brightly displaying the encoded e-mail.
(This guy better be the real deal,) he thought. (This World shit is starting to get to me.)
He stood up, stretched, took a few paces around the dimly lit bedroom. A long glance in the mirror revealed a disheveled, middle-aged man staring back at him; a worn pair of khaki trousers and a buttoned-shut blue shirt hung loosely around his moderate build, adding a casual touch to his otherwise dark appearance.
Dean walked to the window and brushed open the curtains, casting an inquisitive gaze onto the streets before him. Despite the highly visible Tokyo cityscape - a veritable forest of metal, concrete and glass - a lone object caught his attention: a black sedan, windows tinted. Perhaps the same that had tailed him from the airport, perhaps not.
Mocking levity, he smiled and waved at the sedan before releasing the curtains, retreating to the confines of his hotel room; he slowly returned to the desk and began tugging at the mess of wires about it, eventually producing a headset and goggles, designed specifically for interfacing with The World.
He remembered the scant media coverage of its release; fresher in his mind - and aided by the articles on the desk - were rumors of incidents where its users were harmed by the product. Another name appeared in the mass of clippings and notes, a recent instance in which a student had been found comatose while playing The World.
Setting the goggles to one side, Dean sat down before his terminal and closed the e-mail. With obvious reluctance, he scrolled through the desktop and highlighted "The World," clicking it twice.
(Time for the next move.)
-
A sprawling network of stone bridges, canals and buildings, a massive waterfront bazaar. The picture became more definite as he stared at it; slowly it grew, expanding beyond his field of vision and wrapping around him, encompassing him, until it was less a picture and more a place.
Golden rings swirled about him, covering him from head to toe, signaling the transition from one world to the next. The rings soon vanished, bringing to view the multitude of characters who inhabited the bazaar, running to and fro between the shops of the aqua capital.
He looked down to where his body should be; gone was his comfortable, loose-fitting attire, and with it his body. In its place, a simple black robe adorned the slender, pale form he now occupied. He lifted a hand - covered by a brown leather glove - and gave the robe a slight tug, only slightly unnerved by his inability to feel the garment. A glance at his other hand revealed that it now clutched a long, blue wand.
"Interesting."
He turned away from the broadway of Mac Anu to face the spinning Chaos Gate, just in time to witness two others enter The World - a Heavy Axeman and a Long Arm, the former covered entirely in rust-red armor and carrying a huge, tacky golden axe, the latter tall and athletic, decked out in loose blue pants and an open, matching vest.
The Long Arm cocked his head at Dean, causing a few locks of his shoulder-length blonde hair to spill forward over his eyes, the bright yellow mingling with his olive-colored stare. Resting the length of his ornately decorated spear over his shoulder, he grinned. "Stolls!"
The Wave Master smiled back, nodding to both as they approached. "Heya, Tamon."
"Hope we didn't keep you waiting," said the Long Arm.
Stolls shook his head. "Nah, just got here myself. So, this guy's showing up in an hour?"
The Axeman's armor clanked slightly as he glanced around, shifting his stance. Satisfied that no one was nearby, he nodded. "That's right. All my research indicates he's a hacker, too... I think he's worth a shot."
Tamon grunted in agreement. "It's not like we have much choice. Helba doesn't seem to play by the rules. Hell, she doesn't seem to play at all, as far as I've been able to determine. Hey... you sure we've been secured?"
"For now," replied Stolls. "Shinji, you..."
"Deisart," corrected the Axeman.
"Right, sorry. But you encrypted the voice uplink, didn't you?"
Deisart nodded. "Yeah."
"So, what do we do once he shows up?" asked Stolls. "Ask him to hack through an oversized firewall for us?"
"I think a test is in order," answered Tamon. "There is that Data Bug we found the other day... the bird creature."
The Wave Master let out a soft sigh, glancing away from the gate and down the broadway again, towards the bridge. "I don't know... I mean, I know this's the only way we can get it, short of going in shooting, but this guy, Kite... he's just a kid, I don't wanna involve some kid in this."
"I agree," said Tamon, a dark look crossing his tanned face. "But we're out of time. Rosenberg wants the data by Sunday, that's two days from now. He agreed to meet with us in an hour. You have a better idea, I'm willing to listen."
Stolls shifted his stance from one leg to the other, leaning slightly to his left, his eyes closed. "All right," he muttered. "One hour."
-
"Kite!"
Two turned as the Long Arm called out. On the left stood a tall, lithe female Heavy Blade with short, pink hair and wine-colored eyes. She bore spiked red armor and bracers, purple vine-patterned tights and silver boots; covering her body in short, narrow streaks were a series of jagged, thorny tattoos, and slung over her shoulder was her class's trademark weapon.
To her left stood the character Kite; short, spiky blue hair poked out from beneath his red cap, mingling with his blue eyes, while the rest of his body was covered by an orange-red vest, matching pants and a thick white undershirt. Clenched in both of his gloved hands was a pair of sharp-looking short swords, marking him as a Twin Blade.
He smiled and raised a hand, waving to Tamon. "Tamon, hi! Are these your friends?"
Tamon jogged up to Kite, answering him with a nod. "Sorry we're late." He glanced at the Heavy Blade, and then again at Kite. "I suppose introductions are in order." With a smile, he turned back to the woman. "I'm TamonAdillo. Just Tamon will do in a pinch."
He threw a glance over his shoulder towards the bridge, where Stolls and Deisart stood. "That's Stolls," he indicated the Wave Master with his thumb, "and the Axeman's Deisart."
Kite bowed slightly. "Nice to meet you both. I'm Kite, and this is BlackRose," he said, gesturing to his companion, who politely nodded but threw a curious glance at each member of the trio.
"So, you wanted to ask about something?" BlackRose spoke up, addressing Tamon.
Tamon cleared his throat. "Yes, well... this may sound a little strange, but..."
Deisart took a step forward, his armor making an audible clank as he moved. "We need your help," he finished for Tamon. "There's a monster at Delta, Buried Geothermal Spiral, and we believe it's been... altered."
"Altered?" said Kite, peering curiously at the armored Deisart.
"Hacked," replied Stolls, joining the conversation. "It had infinite hit points, as far as I could tell." He sighed. "It got all of us."
Tamon nodded. "We were going to try again, but I'm afraid that without a hacker, we can't do anything. That's why we need your help." After a beat, he added, "So, what do you say?"
Kite and BlackRose exchanged looks. A moment's pause, and they nodded to each other. "What's the name of the field again?"
- End of Chapter I
A .Hack fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun
Disclaimer: I claim ownership of nothing whatsoever related to Project .Hack, save for characters created solely within this story.
Notes: Takes place between Infection and Mutation. Parentheses indicate thoughts. What follows is a story told through two separate viewpoints. Chapters 1-13 cover the perspective of the three thieves - Dean, Shinji and Max. Chapters 14-25 depict the same events through Kite and BlackRose's point of view. Comments and critiques are more than welcome. With that said, read on and enjoy!
Chapter I - Symphony
------------
To: [email protected], [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subj: Recon
Title sketchy, tempo sketchier. Performed on strings. Maintaining intermission; if Mozart becomes suspicious, performing on wind and reducing intermission is advisable.
We are running out of time. Considering changing the title of the symphony. Will meet with you and Deisart at mezzanine to discuss, 7pm. Bach will arrive at 8.
- Tamon
Dark brown eyes blinked once, twice at the message displayed before them. (Damn this code,) thought their owner. (Could Max be more cryptic?)
He began sifting through the mass of paper covering his desk, the slender fingers of a pianist picking their way to and fro between handwritten notes, printed documents, and newspaper clippings; highlighted sections caught his eyes for fractions of seconds, calling attention to various events related to The World, and to the global economy. The words 'CC Corp', 'found comatose', and 'Key of the Twilight' appeared frequently. Player names appeared less so, excepting three in particular: 'Kite', 'Helba' and 'Tsukasa'.
(Ah, here it is.) He smiled, pulling a week-old post-it note free from the pile, the adhesive strip covered with far too much dust and dirt to be of use. He quickly scanned the contents, comparing each word with the e-mail before him.
'Target sketchy, information sketchier. Left via Sprite Ocarina. Maintaining surveillance; if Admin becomes suspicious, leaving via logout and reducing surveillance is advisable.
We are running out of time. Considering changing the target of the mission. Will meet with you and Deisart at Mac Anu to discuss, 7pm. Kite will arrive at 8.'
"Excellent." He covered his mouth and gave a wide yawn, collapsing into the leather swivel chair and propping his feet up on the desk. He drew his hand through his short, unkempt black hair and propped it behind his head as he leaned backwards, the chair creaking slightly under his weight. His eyelids slowly drooped shut, blocking the dull glare of the monitor from his sight.
The piercing whine of a ringing telephone broke his reverie, forcing him to sit up to reach the receiver. Passing it easily in his hand, he pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
The voice of a quiet young man answered him. "Hey, Dean."
"Shin, hey man." Dean smiled again. "What's up?"
"Just got Max's letter. What do you make of it?"
Dean let out a heavy sigh, failing to stifle his yawn. "Ahh, I don't know... I think it was a long shot when we were looking for Helba. Now we gotta ask some kid for help."
Shin chuckled. "I know, I know... but Altimit isn't number one for no reason, and finding an 'in' at CC Corp. is a hell of a lot easier than trying to make one."
"I thought you said it was beatable."
Another chuckle, dryer than the last. "Well, nothing's unbeatable... but trust me, this gets pretty damn close. We need a hacker, and we need to go in through The World. More to the point, we need one to do the other."
He nodded, letting out a murmur of cautious agreement. "I still don't understand why you can't do it, though."
"It's not that simple; The World is a game, the interface isn't designed for hacking. Fact is, these two are ready-made to hack from the inside, and that's why we need them. C'mon, you saw what that bird thing did to us; you think fiddling around in binary is going to get through that, much less through the backdoor?"
Dean leaned back, the chair creaking under his weight. "Whatever, it's all Greek to me. I'm just wondering what they want with year-old data. Time was, anything older than three months was practically irrelevant."
"No kidding. Well, we'll see what this 'Kite' can do for us."
"All right then. See you in an hour, Shin."
"You too."
Dean pressed the off button and set the receiver back on the base. He threw a glance at the monitor, still brightly displaying the encoded e-mail.
(This guy better be the real deal,) he thought. (This World shit is starting to get to me.)
He stood up, stretched, took a few paces around the dimly lit bedroom. A long glance in the mirror revealed a disheveled, middle-aged man staring back at him; a worn pair of khaki trousers and a buttoned-shut blue shirt hung loosely around his moderate build, adding a casual touch to his otherwise dark appearance.
Dean walked to the window and brushed open the curtains, casting an inquisitive gaze onto the streets before him. Despite the highly visible Tokyo cityscape - a veritable forest of metal, concrete and glass - a lone object caught his attention: a black sedan, windows tinted. Perhaps the same that had tailed him from the airport, perhaps not.
Mocking levity, he smiled and waved at the sedan before releasing the curtains, retreating to the confines of his hotel room; he slowly returned to the desk and began tugging at the mess of wires about it, eventually producing a headset and goggles, designed specifically for interfacing with The World.
He remembered the scant media coverage of its release; fresher in his mind - and aided by the articles on the desk - were rumors of incidents where its users were harmed by the product. Another name appeared in the mass of clippings and notes, a recent instance in which a student had been found comatose while playing The World.
Setting the goggles to one side, Dean sat down before his terminal and closed the e-mail. With obvious reluctance, he scrolled through the desktop and highlighted "The World," clicking it twice.
(Time for the next move.)
-
A sprawling network of stone bridges, canals and buildings, a massive waterfront bazaar. The picture became more definite as he stared at it; slowly it grew, expanding beyond his field of vision and wrapping around him, encompassing him, until it was less a picture and more a place.
Golden rings swirled about him, covering him from head to toe, signaling the transition from one world to the next. The rings soon vanished, bringing to view the multitude of characters who inhabited the bazaar, running to and fro between the shops of the aqua capital.
He looked down to where his body should be; gone was his comfortable, loose-fitting attire, and with it his body. In its place, a simple black robe adorned the slender, pale form he now occupied. He lifted a hand - covered by a brown leather glove - and gave the robe a slight tug, only slightly unnerved by his inability to feel the garment. A glance at his other hand revealed that it now clutched a long, blue wand.
"Interesting."
He turned away from the broadway of Mac Anu to face the spinning Chaos Gate, just in time to witness two others enter The World - a Heavy Axeman and a Long Arm, the former covered entirely in rust-red armor and carrying a huge, tacky golden axe, the latter tall and athletic, decked out in loose blue pants and an open, matching vest.
The Long Arm cocked his head at Dean, causing a few locks of his shoulder-length blonde hair to spill forward over his eyes, the bright yellow mingling with his olive-colored stare. Resting the length of his ornately decorated spear over his shoulder, he grinned. "Stolls!"
The Wave Master smiled back, nodding to both as they approached. "Heya, Tamon."
"Hope we didn't keep you waiting," said the Long Arm.
Stolls shook his head. "Nah, just got here myself. So, this guy's showing up in an hour?"
The Axeman's armor clanked slightly as he glanced around, shifting his stance. Satisfied that no one was nearby, he nodded. "That's right. All my research indicates he's a hacker, too... I think he's worth a shot."
Tamon grunted in agreement. "It's not like we have much choice. Helba doesn't seem to play by the rules. Hell, she doesn't seem to play at all, as far as I've been able to determine. Hey... you sure we've been secured?"
"For now," replied Stolls. "Shinji, you..."
"Deisart," corrected the Axeman.
"Right, sorry. But you encrypted the voice uplink, didn't you?"
Deisart nodded. "Yeah."
"So, what do we do once he shows up?" asked Stolls. "Ask him to hack through an oversized firewall for us?"
"I think a test is in order," answered Tamon. "There is that Data Bug we found the other day... the bird creature."
The Wave Master let out a soft sigh, glancing away from the gate and down the broadway again, towards the bridge. "I don't know... I mean, I know this's the only way we can get it, short of going in shooting, but this guy, Kite... he's just a kid, I don't wanna involve some kid in this."
"I agree," said Tamon, a dark look crossing his tanned face. "But we're out of time. Rosenberg wants the data by Sunday, that's two days from now. He agreed to meet with us in an hour. You have a better idea, I'm willing to listen."
Stolls shifted his stance from one leg to the other, leaning slightly to his left, his eyes closed. "All right," he muttered. "One hour."
-
"Kite!"
Two turned as the Long Arm called out. On the left stood a tall, lithe female Heavy Blade with short, pink hair and wine-colored eyes. She bore spiked red armor and bracers, purple vine-patterned tights and silver boots; covering her body in short, narrow streaks were a series of jagged, thorny tattoos, and slung over her shoulder was her class's trademark weapon.
To her left stood the character Kite; short, spiky blue hair poked out from beneath his red cap, mingling with his blue eyes, while the rest of his body was covered by an orange-red vest, matching pants and a thick white undershirt. Clenched in both of his gloved hands was a pair of sharp-looking short swords, marking him as a Twin Blade.
He smiled and raised a hand, waving to Tamon. "Tamon, hi! Are these your friends?"
Tamon jogged up to Kite, answering him with a nod. "Sorry we're late." He glanced at the Heavy Blade, and then again at Kite. "I suppose introductions are in order." With a smile, he turned back to the woman. "I'm TamonAdillo. Just Tamon will do in a pinch."
He threw a glance over his shoulder towards the bridge, where Stolls and Deisart stood. "That's Stolls," he indicated the Wave Master with his thumb, "and the Axeman's Deisart."
Kite bowed slightly. "Nice to meet you both. I'm Kite, and this is BlackRose," he said, gesturing to his companion, who politely nodded but threw a curious glance at each member of the trio.
"So, you wanted to ask about something?" BlackRose spoke up, addressing Tamon.
Tamon cleared his throat. "Yes, well... this may sound a little strange, but..."
Deisart took a step forward, his armor making an audible clank as he moved. "We need your help," he finished for Tamon. "There's a monster at Delta, Buried Geothermal Spiral, and we believe it's been... altered."
"Altered?" said Kite, peering curiously at the armored Deisart.
"Hacked," replied Stolls, joining the conversation. "It had infinite hit points, as far as I could tell." He sighed. "It got all of us."
Tamon nodded. "We were going to try again, but I'm afraid that without a hacker, we can't do anything. That's why we need your help." After a beat, he added, "So, what do you say?"
Kite and BlackRose exchanged looks. A moment's pause, and they nodded to each other. "What's the name of the field again?"
- End of Chapter I