TaoWongEng

The problem is, we’re outnumbered and time isn’t on our side. The longer we take, the more the Frakin will increase in numbers. While our people might upgrade in Levels in the meantime, the fact stands that it only takes a few Level 50 Frakin to overwhelm a single Level 40 Adventurer. Better weapons, better tactics, and better coordination can help tilt things in our favor, but the numbers still aren’t on our side.

If the Frakin acted like normal monsters, they wouldn’t swarm and cluster. We’d have a chance to fight them in smaller groups, whittling down their numbers in a series of battles. Unfortunately, the Spores are sentient and have shown a willingness to swarm us and lay traps.

“I have a partial solution to the number problem,” I say. “The Hakarta have agreed to let us have three platoons of their men. Level 40 or so each, but they’ll be coming with their full loadout.”

Vir looks at me, startled, then his eyes narrow, “Hakarta. The same ones you fought before?”

“Yes.”

“And how did you come in contact with them that you were able to arrange a contract?” Vir asks, his voice cold.

I just smile at him. His eyes narrow in suspicion until Capstan taps the table to get all our attention.

“Lieutenant, it is done. I assume there is a price involved?” Capstan says.

“Yes. We’ll need to pay them ten thousand Credits per platoon for their involvement, and their share of the loot of course,” I say.

People wince. Still, thirty thousand Credits isn’t that much when you take into account a full platoon of five Hakarta will share it. Of course, I don’t mention the favor I now owe Labashi, the one he can call in at any time. I hedged the favor to ensure that he can’t make me use it against my friends or the City, but otherwise, it’s pretty open-ended. That’s on top of me needing to continue to feed him information of course.

Capstan nods, rubbing his chin. “With the three platoons, we should be able to keep the human hunters on the walls. That will give us enough men, barely, to cover the dungeon itself.”

I stare at the map as Vir and Capstan hash out the details with occasional input from Jim, figuring out the best way to fit the Hakarta in our plans. All this talk and we’ve basically come up with three major strategies, dependent on what we find inside.

The first is simple—the virus reverts the Frakin and the dungeon back to its “normal” state. That means scattered groups without overall coordination. This is our best-case scenario, and if it happens, we can split the teams into smaller groups to clear the dungeon before we finally get to the Boss. It’s also the least likely option, but we do have plans for it.

The second scenario is if there’s no effect, or mild effects, and the Spores continue to act like the way they have before. In that case, the Frakin are likely to group together, attack in waves, and attempt ambushes. In such a scenario, the goal is to establish a beachhead in the first cavern, set up fortifications in it, and weather the attacks. That leaves us a fallback position in the tunnel where a secondary set of fortifications will be made, then the walls. We’ve also mined the entrance and the ground above it so, if necessary, we can cause a landslide that will give us enough time to vacate the dungeon’s vicinity.

We’d decided against trying to bury the dungeon entrance entirely since there’s no way to know if there’s another exit. Or worse, if the Frakin are able to dig themselves out. Of course, if we do fail, Jim’s men have orders to drop the entrance. As much as we’d like to know the layout of the dungeon, the cost of it in the Shop is exorbitant.

The third scenario is probably the most dangerous. If the Spores feel truly endangered, they might pull back, forcing us to come into the dungeon after them. As Jim’s already noted, even after a few caverns, there are multiple passageways and potential entrances. Some, probably most of them, will peter out and dead-end. However, until we can verify that, we’ll have to guard each. That means we’ll have to move in slowly and carefully, checking each area. Worse, if there are multiple passageways that connect, we could be forced to split our force to cover each of those potential passages until we meet up again.

Depending on how deep and where the Spores decide to have their last stand, we could be extremely dispersed if we try to cover all the exits. If not, we run the risk of being flanked. It’s not a great situation and why we’re all hoping it’s either one of the other scenarios. In either case, Xev’s hard at work putting together multiple drones and signal repeaters for us so that we can scout out areas and keep in touch.

We’ve debated rolling in a couple of bombs and setting them off to clear the area before moving in deeper. Jim pointed out that the narrow corridors and their Mana-strengthened nature would ensure that the blast forces were more concentrated, giving us more bang for our buck.

Unfortunately, Vir and Capstan overruled him. For one thing, we have no idea how big the entire complex could be—we could be wasting Credits by purchasing bombs and setting them off without hurting anything. Even if we did manage to catch some Frakin in the explosions, if the dungeon has more than one floor, the blast wouldn’t cross the floors. And of course, we just don’t have the Credits to buy something powerful enough to ensure that all the monsters die. It was why most times, dungeons were still cleared the old-fashioned way—one floor at a time with small parties.

The night before the big day, the Nugget is hopping. I drive by on Sabre and almost go in but decide against it, stopping only long enough to visit the Shop and stock up on more grenades, missiles, and projectiles. I’ve loaded my Altered Space with as much of each as I can unreasonably see myself using already, so buying more is my version of fretting.

In the end, I head home. I might not need much sleep physically or mentally, but there’s a calming emotional release in the emptiness that a good night’s rest can bring. I drive slowly through Riverdale, knowing that icy patches lie hidden underneath the latest dusting of snow. We need a better solution for the roads, like so many other problems, but I push it out of my mind. I have other things to deal with.

At home, I find Lana and Richard seated around the dining room table that’s connected to the open kitchen. For once, Richard is without a female companion. Instead, the two Pearsons are chatting quietly, accompanied by a single husky each. Even then, the large dining room is crowded.

Richard greets me, waving me to a chair. I take it after some maneuvering, seating myself and smacking Bella on the nose not too gently as she tries to lick me. Licky dog.

I greet the pair, looking around the kitchen. “No dinner?”

“It’s nearly ten,” Lana says, shaking her head. “There’re leftovers in the fridge.”

“Huh.” I nod, eying the blocked off stovetop and fridge.

Seeing my predicament, the pair send the dogs out the door, freeing me to cook.

“You guys ready?” I ask.

“As much as we can be,” Richard answers for them both. “I’m just glad that Leonard is certain the infected Frakin won’t be poisonous for the dogs.”

“Oh.” I pause in heating up the stir-fried rice. I never even thought about how we’d be feeding their pets.

“And you, John?” Lana asks.

“This is what I do, babe.” I turn around to flash her a cocky smile and a wink.

The redhead looks startled for a moment before bursting out laughing, Richard joining her.

“Please. Don’t do that ever again,” Richard says, shaking his head. “It really doesn’t suit you.”

I snort, face collapsing as I turn back to my leftovers. They’re still chuckling behind me, and I find myself smiling slightly. As I’m busy and awkwardly placed to carry on the conversation, they end up recounting stories of their shared childhood and their dad’s sense of humor. Really? Putting Lana’s first set of car keys in Jell-O was meant to be funny?

When I’m ready, I walk back to the table with the plates of food and plop myself onto my seat before pushing a pair of plates out to them. I don’t even have to ask if they’ll be joining me—putting food in front of System-enhanced fighters is a guarantee of it being consumed.

As we eat, we talk, all of us avoiding the topic of our upcoming delve. Everything that needs to be said has been said or will be said. In time, Mikito joins us, pointing out that our increasingly loud conversation is keeping her up, before she snags a potato. For a time, we just talk and eat, worries about tomorrow pushed aside. The past is pain, the future uncertainty. The present is all we have, and staring at my friends, it’s enough.

Chapter 20

“I really wish the weather would make up its mind,” Richard grumbles as he stomps through the slush pile of mud and snow as we finally reach the dungeon.

Fun thing about being in the Yukon in mid-November—the temperature doesn’t always stay beneath zero. So all that snow we received in the last few weeks—it’s melting on its own, leaving the ground a mushy, slimy mess.

I duck my head to hide my smile as I walk easily on Sabre’s armored legs, then I realize he can’t see me beneath my helmet anyway. Tromping through the underbrush in the mecha is easy and doesn’t involve getting my feet muddy. Of course, Richard could try riding one of his pets like Lana and Mikito are doing with hers, but Richard seems happier just grumbling.

When we finally reach the dungeon, I marvel at the changes since my last entry. A wall of concrete and earth has been thrown up around the entrance, and a pit faces the entrance. In a snaking path to the dungeon, stone spears stick out, making sure that no monster can get a running start to their jumps. Just outside the entrance, there’s a clear area to allow our dungeon parties to gather. Of course, that ground has been heavily mined. Four watchtowers are set along the wall, mostly to allow the guards to watch for incoming threats from the wilderness. Each watchtower also holds one of the four shield generators and beam canons we’ve borrowed from the city defenses.

The entrance is as well guarded as we can make it. If things go to hell, we’ll need to rely on these defenses to save our asses. I survey the area once more before I dump the drones and signal repeaters out from my Altered Space for everyone else to grab. People stream in in spurts over the next fifteen minutes, picking up their extra gear before grabbing some last-minute rest.

“Lana?” I murmur.

She looks up at me from where she works, stroking and petting her pets. “John.” There’s a hint of wariness in her voice.

“Be careful. Watch the sides and remember, your pets are there to keep you safe.”

For a moment, her lips tighten before she smiles and kisses my cheek. “Yes, Dad.”

I sigh, really wishing she didn’t have to come. Really, I wish none of us was here, but that’s the nature of our lives now. As Richard walks up, I nod to him and murmur, “Watch out for her, will you?”

“Of course.” He shoots me a disdainful look and I accept it. She is, after all, his sister. “You’re the one up front and center.”

I nod then turn away, looking over the gathered group one last time. Arrayed before me are warriors and mages, fighters and healers, my allies and enemies, because I asked them to be here, because I said it was necessary.

To one side, Aiden leans against a nearby tree as he finishes throwing up. Mikito rubs the older man’s back in an attempt to comfort him. Jim is walking among his people, talking softly and bolstering spirits. The Yerick squat, playing a game of stones that seems to consume their attention, but occasionally they glance at the dungeon entrance. There’s a hush among the group, a stillness that makes people speak softly, as if speaking loudly would break the spell of peace and signal the start of what we all fear.

I spot Jason standing next to Rachel, their hands clasped. He sees me and mouths, “Not a game.”

I nod. No, this isn’t a game, and I wonder how many of these people will be dead before the day is over. As I think that, I note the new blips that have appeared on my minimap.

“Everyone, play nice. We’ve got incoming friendlies. Friendlies,” I repeat, hitting the external mic to ensure that everyone hears me. Don’t want anyone shooting the Hakarta as they make their way to us.

Twenty-five large infantry soldiers walk through the trees. They move in formation without thought, spread out in a way that screams organization even to me. Six and a half feet tall at the shortest, some going up to seven, and all broad across the shoulders. Their mottled green-and-brown camouflaged armor blends in with the surroundings as the group stomps forward, beam rifles and plasma grenades strapped to their bodies.

“John.” A hand touches armor and strikingly intelligent eyes meet my gaze. “Sorry we’re late. We had a small delay coming in.”

I step forward, offering my hand to Labashi. “Not at all. Surprised you’re here, and with so many others.” Unspoken is the point that I can’t afford him or the additions.

“Orcs? The Hakarta are orcs?” Jason splutters, staring at the group, and Rachel squeezes his hand to shut him up. He quiets down, though not without adding, “At least they’re Uruk-hai.”

“My employer decided he was not interested in having an infected dungeon in his territory,” Labashi says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “We are here at his request.”

I consider that then shake my head. Well, seems like Labashi has figured out a way to get paid twice for this job. Vir stiffens slightly at the mention of Labashi’s employer but says nothing. I really do wish someone would fill me in on the subtext here at some point.

Capstan walks forward, offering Labashi his hand. As Labashi grips Capstan’s arm, I see Capstan’s forearm muscles bunch before his eyes tighten, Labashi never losing that smile of his.

“First Fist, I am Labashi Ruka, Major of the Sixty-Third Division. I understand you are in command here?”

Hand released, Capstan surreptitiously flexes his fingers as he answers. “Yes, I am. Have you read the briefing notes? Do you have any last-minute recommendations?”

Labashi smiles slightly, nodding. “I might have a few.”

I sigh as Vir moves forward to join the duo. Leaving the group to it, I climb the staircase to the top of the wall, surprised to find a pair of Hakarta up there already. They’re releasing a series of small spider-like drones, sending them into the entrance and the dungeon without a word.

Well, this might go better than I thought.

Thankfully, the discussion takes less than an hour. Whether it’s the fact that Labashi knows what he’s doing or that the plans are already in place, it doesn’t take long for the call to gather to come. I’ve sent out my own drones already, though the amount of data I’m getting pales in comparison to the constant data stream the Hakarta have. Tim’s speaking softly to one of the Hakarta, working to get their equipment to sync up with our signal boosters.

There’s a pair of Frakin in the main passageways and only scattered numbers farther in. Not enough to consider a threat and it’s only on closer inspection that we realize why—these are dungeon-born Frakin that aren’t infected yet. We’ve yet to see an infected Frakin, which is a bit worrying.

Everyone’s a bit tense from the additional delay, but once we get moving, the tension ratchets up even further. A couple of Hakarta and Yerick, Bill’s raven-haired friend, and Stupid from the bar play scouts, ghosting in ahead of us to eyeball for trouble that the drones might have missed. After all that talk of not being high enough level, Jim finally relented and is bringing in a pair of his hunting groups.

The rest of us move as a group at first, then parties split up, heading down each of the passageways. Signal boosters are added, providing us better and better coverage, but even the boosters can only do so much. At a certain point, we’re going to lose contact. As the parties leave, I hear more than one happy comment that the dungeon is both dry and warm. While higher Constitutions might mean we can handle lower temperatures better, it’s still not comfortable. At least, not for anyone who isn’t fully covered in high-grade, temperature-controlling armor.

Bill, Vir, Labashi, Capstan and me are the heavy hitters and have to hang back, ready to hammer any resistance into the ground. That leaves Nelia and Aron under-powered, so Lana and Aiden join them while Richard and Mikito get Amelia, Rachel, and Jason. Gadsby couldn’t come. Carcross needed at least one of their powerhouses in town and he drew the short straw.

In the end, the heavy hitters end up strolling along behind everyone else, watching the data and feeds while the others do all the work. We never hit more than a few Frakin at a time and those that we do fight aren’t infected.

The longer this takes, the more antsy I get, and I eventually find myself chewing through chocolate bar after chocolate bar to find something to do. Labashi steals a few, though he, like the others, is focused on coordinating the search parties. Even Bill looks bored, though he mostly suffers in silence. I’m pretty sure he’s just pissed that Vir dispatched a pair of guards to ensure he made it today.

Four and a half hours later, we’re four main caverns in and finally taking a break. We’ve got three quarters of the groups deployed covering side passages, waiting for the Scouts to clear the passageways before they move on. While we rest, drones scurry around on their automated tasks, bringing more and more details about the dungeon back to us when they get back into sensor range.

“It seems the Spores have pulled back,” Capstan says.

He doesn’t look happy, and I completely agree. We’re stretched thin already, covering the passages we’ve found, and it’s been slow going since we try to keep sufficient coverage on each split group that they’re able to pull back if they encounter resistance. The fact that they all have drones and scouts ahead of them helps. Still, our experience with the Frakin means we can’t rely on that entirely.

We’re pretty sure by now that there are at least three major passages leading farther in. The Frakin that holed up off the first branch are gone entirely, and that cavern eventually joins up with the main branch in main cavern number three. Now we’re following one passage from cavern two and another from this cavern, not including the third that we’ve designated the main route. Each of these main passageways is so big, it’d take at least two groups to cover fully. Thus far, none of these passageways have shown to meet up, so we’re stuck waiting for the drones to give us an idea of what it is we’re looking for, while hoping they aren’t completely destroyed.

“Yes,” Labashi says. “Fall back to Cavern Two?”

“Yes,” Capstan answers.

I sigh. Pushing ahead to this cavern was always a risk, since we haven’t explored all the corridors fully, but it was a risk we were willing to take to see if we could find the Frakin faster. However, now that we’ve pretty much confirmed that we’ve got multiple main passageways, pushing ahead means leaving more area to guard. It’s better to back off and finish checking the first branch fully before we do anything else.

Once we’ve dropped a few drones, we pull back and get back to waiting. For all the dreams of a slam-bang, balls-to-the-walls fight, all that has happened is a tense, slow, grinding wait.

Bored. I find myself next to Bill as we wait for something, anything to happen. I look the man over before I finally decide to say something. “You’re a bit of a dick, aren’t you?”

“Are you trying to start a fight?” Bill says, glaring at me.

Capstan shoots me a glare too, and I raise my hand in surrender.

“Sorry. Let’s try that again. You’re not much of a team player, are you?”

“I’m a very good team player. I’m just more selective about my team than some people,” Bill states and turns to face me.

I grunt at his reply. Fine. Fine. So… “Enforcer, eh? Interesting Class.”

“How…?” Bill’s lips thin and I smile at him. He shrugs, answering the unasked question. “I was a bouncer before all this. I guess the System thought this was appropriate.”

“Yeah…” I reply, not really meaning anything by it. I cudgel my brain for something else to say to fill the time, but I find nothing.

Bill snorts, shaking his head, and turns from me. I sigh. Fine. I guess we really don’t have much to say to one another.

“Should we be thinking about calling it a day?” I wonder, staring at the glowing icons that make up our people in my map.

It’s been another four hours and we’re once again spread out across a wide distance. The Hakarta have reported losing over a quarter of their drones so far. We occasionally find the drones on the ground, shorted out from Mana overload or destroyed by the Frakin or one of the few other, smaller monsters that have begun to spawn in the absence of the Spore-dominated ecosystem.

After finding an extremely narrow, single-person corridor at the end of the second passageway in the first cavern, the First Fist decided to post a party and have us move forward with the search. Now, the majority of us are sitting in the fourth cavern with search parties headed down both passageways in an attempt to locate the Frakin. Hours of being on edge, of waiting for the other shoe to drop has made almost everyone tired. Only Capstan, Vir, Labashi, and I seem to be functioning at full capacity, probably due to our high mental resistances and Willpower. Everyone else is moving just a little slower.

As Capstan opens his mouth to answer me, a cackle comes through our communicators. “Frakin! We have Frakin!”

We don’t need to ask who it is. Though of course Labashi does with a light growl. Since one party is filled with Yerick and humans and the other the professional Hakarta, the unprofessional report of trouble can only come from the humans.

I want to go, I want to fight, but Capstan shakes his head as he sees me edge toward the passageway. He stands there, arms crossed, waiting for more information to come in.

No surprise that more details come from his people. “Fifty Frakin hidden in a side cavern that the drones missed. We have them contained, First Fist. No aid required.”

I find myself relaxing. Bill smirks, returning to the game of solitaire he’s been playing for hours. Capstan asks for a little more information, but with things in hand, I find my mind drifting. I’m not entirely sure what the Spores’ game plan is, but the fact that it’s taken us nearly a whole day to make any form of substantial contact makes me lean toward scenario three. Not good, not good at all.

The battle doesn’t take that long, probably only five minutes before it’s all over. When the report comes in, we confirm it’s infected Frakin, but nothing of unusual size. They do note that these aren’t the plasma-wielding Frakin I fought before—these released caustic clouds of acid that ate through and damaged armor. Luckily, the mages were able to keep the gas mostly contained so it was only the melee fighters who suffered.

The side cavern dealt with, the group continues to search for trouble, obviously invigorated by the encounter. I wish I could say the same for us, stuck waiting as we are.

Capstan stands there, looking at the ceiling and presumably his system information. Coming to a decision, Capstan lowers that horned head of his and speaks into our communicators. “Pull back. Leave sensors. We’re stopping for the night.”

There’s a rustle from those around us, but the professionals take action immediately. Even the humans don’t actually object to packing it in. While we might not have been doing this for as long as the others, we’ve learnt a few lessons in the apocalypse.

Later that evening, I’m sitting next to Richard and Mikito, resting against the comfortable bulk of a puppy as I eat our rehydrated dinners. Not the tastiest form of sustenance, but I’ll take it over the green goo that the Hakarta are busy squeezing out of their tubes. I guess ready meals the Galaxy over just aren’t particularly tasty. Or I could be wrong and the green goo is a cultural delicacy. Certainly the Hakarta are taking to their meals with gusto. The Yerick in their own groups have set up small frying pans and are busy lightly frying up various vegetables, some recognizable and others significantly less so. Coming from a Chinese family, I’ve eaten a wider variety of foodstuff than most, but even I draw the line at lurid, neon-purple seaweed-like vegetables.

“Not what I was expecting,” Richard says, gesturing around the group.

We’ve got Mana lights set up all around us, illuminating the bare cavern while shield generators and sensors cover all our entrances and the areas we’ve cleared. No reason to let the monsters sneak in on us while we’re resting.

“What? Camping in the middle of a dungeon and waiting for a swarm of monsters to fall on you not to your liking?” Jason says sarcastically, Rachel snuggled between his legs.

Rachel playfully smacks his arm, and I smile slightly at the two teenagers, glad they’ve found something good among all this.

“Don’t forget eating with orcs and Minotaurs,” Aiden adds dryly.

Mikito smiles slightly at the banter, though she stays silent, working through a series of bento boxes of food. She gets more than a few longing stares at her packed dinners. For a moment, I wonder if it’s a good thing that she’s spending time doing more mundane things rather than constantly training or hunting monsters.

Once again, I wish I had a real psychotherapist on hand. It’d be nice to have someone trained to ask about how my friends are handling the stresses of the Apocalypse, whether Mikito’s getting better or just about to jump off the cliff. We could use the Shop, but the problem with System-purchased information—it was information, not actual skill. For that matter, while a few skills are purchasable, they’re all generic. I’m not entirely sure training to deal with Hakarta or an AI or whatever Xev’s race is will translate to human psychology. Then again, I might be overthinking things. Trauma is trauma, right? Certainly the psychotherapy that Richard was taking worked. Is taking?

Coming back from watch, Lana flops down next to me, stretching out her long legs and prodding at the armored carapace of Sabre. “How can you stand sitting in that?”

“Surprisingly comfortable actually. I’ve slept in it before when I’ve been in the wild. Makes it hard for monsters to chomp on you.”

She shakes her head. “Give.” Lana holds out her hand, and I frown. “Chocolates.”

“You know, you could buy your own,” I grumble, handing her some.

Floating above me, Ali makes a whipping motion with his hand while I roll my eyes at him. A moment later, I’m dispensing chocolate all around to expectant hands. Lucky for me, I buy a ton. Labashi, noting what I’m doing, wanders over and holds out his giant green hand.

“You too?” I ask.

“Consider it part payment.” Labashi grins.

I sigh, pulling out some of the Belgian chocolates he likes and passing it over. He gestures to a spot next to me and I nod, watching as the others scramble away a bit. Well, everyone but Jason, who is staring openly at the Hakarta.

“You did well out there,” Labashi says, nodding to my group. A few people look startled then happy at his compliment. “It is impressive, considering how long the System has been in effect.”

I nod slightly, but it’s Richard who speaks. “So I heard you mention your employer. Who is he?”

“You do not expect me to actually answer that, do you?” Labashi says.

Richard looks disappointed.

“Her Grace Wuli Kangana, Duchess of the Pourquoi States,” Vir says, having come up to join the group. He eyes everyone eating the chocolates but makes no request for any. “She also currently owns and controls both the Village of Fairbanks and the Town of Anchorage.”

Seeing my brow furrow, Lana leans over and whispers, “Whitehorse is still a Village in the System’s eyes.”

I nod dumbly while Ali concentrates, staring into the distance. In a few seconds, I see a notification that I’ve got System windows waiting for me. At a guess, details about the duchess. I wonder how bad the translations are of her titles—something else to dig into at some point.

“Really?” Aiden frowns, rubbing his nose. “Are infected dungeons that dangerous?”

“Yes.” Labashi nods. “A normal Spore infection is limited, the numbers forced to slowly grow. A dungeon gives the Spores a chance to continuously reproduce and grow, and on a dungeon world, it would be a simple matter to infect even more dungeons. It is much easier to deal with earlier than later.”

Vir nods, letting his body relax as he stands there watching the group. I hear Jason ask another question about the Hakarta, which I find myself ignoring. I’ve always wondered why the Hakarta were checking us out, and while this sheds some light, it’s not a lot.

As much as the explanation by Labashi makes some sense, I still don’t believe that an infected dungeon could spread that fast to make it a threat to Fairbanks any time soon. Certainly not before the System stabilizes and Adventurers start pouring in. If I’m right, it means that she’s got plans much closer to the dungeon. Vir meets my unfocused gaze and nods once, as if confirming my guesses. Great, we just settled City politics and now we’ve got Galactic politics to deal with. Somehow, I don’t think shouting at them and threatening them with body odor will work as well.

Capstan walks up, grumbling at the group and sending us to bed down before the start of our shifts. The Yerick is right—we best get some rest. As it stands, we’ll probably have a pretty nasty fight soon.

Chapter 21

“Contact!”

The word comes over the communicators, jerking us straight. Finally. We’ve spread out across three different openings, and down a side route, they’ve finally come into contact again.

“They haven’t seen the drone,” Aron says, watching the feed.

Ali has slaved a status screen to the drone, so I watch the hundreds of the Frakin packed into the cavern. Strangely, they aren’t all staying still like before. Instead, some are skittering around in aimless circles. Occasionally a Frakin nears the entrance before it jerks to a stop and returns to its aimless movements.

“Going deeper,” Aron says as he controls the drone.

Behind, barely a few hundred meters back, the teams that have been tasked to clear this passageway have stopped, waiting further orders.

Capstan stares at the information coming in before he turns to Labashi. “Send two of your parties to reinforce. We will hold here.”

Labashi nods, barking out orders. His men split off and trot toward the opening at speed. I grit my teeth, frustrated at being forced to wait again.

“Incoming, boy-o,” Ali says, flashing my screen for me, and I frown.

Everyone hears and turns, scanning their own screens as a lone Frakin totters down the main passageway toward us. It walks right past the drone without seeing, its movements erratic.

“Kill it?” I ask, gesturing down the way. Easy pickings.

“This feels wrong,” Labashi says, eyes narrowed. “It’s infected.”

“Yeah…”

“It’s a scout,” Labashi clarifies for those of us who aren’t following him.

Capstan nods and sends a Yerick to deal with the scout far from our position.

“More contacts,” Ali reports, eyes narrowing as he sifts through the scattered data. We’ve got sensors spaced out even farther than the drones, but they aren’t giving particularly good data, not with the amount of Mana interference we’re getting this deep into the dungeon. “A lot more.”

“Fall in,” Capstan barks.

I walk forward to squat behind my assigned wall. Minor changes to the cavern have given us a raised stone wall that should slow down the Frakin. For a quarter second maybe. On the other hand, a quarter second at the speeds we fight can be a long time.

Bill joins me on my right, and I glance over. I note he’s a left-hander, so I shuffle to the left a bit more to give us more space. Not that he’s using a melee weapon yet, instead hefting a pair of modified futuristic beam pistols.

Ali floats over to my left and just above head, barely within my line of sight as he continues to stare at the screens. “Drone’s broken into the second cavern. More Frakin.” He frowns. “Feed’s getting pretty jumpy, I don’t think we’ll get a proper count there…”

I nod, hefting my beam rifle as I watch the incoming dots on my minimap. Now that they’re closer, the drone is picking them up on visual too, their lines staggered and jerky. The Frakin move forward, then occasionally, one or another Frakin will stop or turn around. They aren’t the imposing wall of flesh that we encountered the last time.

“Looks like your virus is working,” Bill says, watching the feed as well.

I nod and shoot a glance at the man, wondering how much I can trust him. There’s no real way to fake Levels, so he’s obviously got some skills. Doesn’t mean he won’t break if things get too hectic.

“They’re moving,” Capstan growls, his eyes locked on the screens.

I glance back. Vir and Labashi are standing next to the command group, heads turning slightly as they watch the feeds before they nod. A quick glance is all I need to confirm it—the Frakin on the other feeds are moving, heading straight for Lana and Richard. I grit my teeth, knowing Mikito has their back. All I can do is trust…

“You might want to focus here,” Bill chides me, opening fire now that the Frakin are within range. His shots go into the darkness, but I hear flesh sizzling as beam weaponry punches through Frakin bodies. Those pistols are impressive.

My turn. I open fire, a second slower than everyone else on the front line, at the targets highlighted in my vision. A veritable rainbow of beam weaponry lights up the cavern, mixed with fast-moving projectiles that smash into the monsters before us, turning the monsters into so much slurry. We probably waste half our shots on already dead creatures.

“Who told you to shoot?” snaps Vir, striding up and shaking his head. “Wait until the order is given.”

Shooting stops, more than a few of us looking sheepish. Vir just watches as the Frakin close the distance. When they’re a hundred meters from us, he finally gives the order to resume shooting, staggering our fire so we don’t waste our ammunition.

As I thought, the pistols Bill uses are special, upgraded up the wazoo by the Shop and then possibly augmented by Skills. Each of his shots does a significant chunk of damage, burning through Frakin defenses with ease. The rest of us don’t have such spectacular results, but the sheer volume of fire and the lack of cohesion in their charge is enough to make this a cakewalk.

At least until we start running out of ammunition. I see the flickering numbers as my Mana battery runs down, my remaining shots dropping at a precipitous rate. Bill slows down his shooting too, and I see others along the line slap in new batteries. The gap in fire is small, the slowdown even smaller, but suddenly the Frakin aren’t being held but are inching forward. Second by second, the line creeps forward, each new corpse a few feet closer to us.

“Hold.”

The ending is ragged, a few last shots sent out after the command is given, but we eventually all stop shooting. The Frakin don’t react much to the sudden cessation of fire, not until a few seconds have passed, then they’re suddenly sprinting to us. I see a few hasty shots as hunters react to the danger, but I hold my fire, knowing what comes next.

“Ice spells,” Vir commands.

Elemental spells fly over our heads, targeting the charging Frakin. Blizzard winds howl, dropping the temperature and coating monsters in snow and ice. Bolts of absolute zero impact carapaces, turning them into popsicles that break apart under their own momentum. Small motes of white dust float forward, landing on monsters and freezing them. Spears of ice pin Frakin to the ground or tear off limbs as they fly by us. All those spells and more rain down on the creatures at Vir’s command.

“Fire,” Vir commands, and the mages switch.

Previously frozen creatures are heated up as walls of flame erupt from the ground. Pellets of plasma fall from the cavern ceiling to smash into the monsters. Traditional fireballs are thrown, exploding in expanding spheres of superheated air. Whips of fire burst forth from the ground, catching Frakin and tearing through frozen shells. The chittering screams from the Frakin are drowned out in the roar of flames.

“This is easy.” Bill smirks, and I almost hit him.

“These are the basic Frakin, idiot,” Ali says. “Plasma Frakin coming in next…”

“Hold. Front line, get ready for incoming fire,” Vir says.

I hear Vir step back. A quick glance shows that the mages are hunkered down beneath their own stone wall with additional coverage from portable shield generators.

Plasma Frakin push past normal Frakin, who refuse to enter the superheated passageway, closing on our line again. They totter over burning corpses, the bladed tips of their feet striking the ground as they rush forward.

Behind me, Vir finally gives the command. “Evens fire!”

The Plasma Frakin are dangerous, but they’ve got a shorter range than we do. We blow them up in the passageway, attempting to pile the bodies up to create an impromptu barrier from their corpses. The occasional extra fast or extra tough Frakin gets a bolt of plasma out before it’s cut down, but a single bolt is nothing to the front-liners.

I even have time to glance at the drone feed from the other battle, enough time to tell that they’re doing as well as we are. Things are going too easy. Way too easy.

“Ali…”

“I’m looking, boy-o, I’m looking,” Ali replies, flicking his hands across his screens.

A quick glance tells me he’s not the only one looking for the catch.

The Frakin stagger in at longer intervals, individual Frakin rather than the unorganized swarm. Vir designates shooters while the rest of us rest, checking over our ammunition. The short fight burnt through half of my Mana batteries, and I wonder how everyone else is doing. On the other hand, we probably stacked up over a hundred Frakin right.

It’s not as if the Spores have shown extremely diverse tactics so far. Perhaps, just perhaps, all they’re doing is trying to win a battle of attrition. For a moment, I let myself hope.

A snarl from Capstan gets my attention.

“They’re behind us,” Ali says, and I jerk my head up. He twitches a finger and I see the drone feed from behind us, showing the rushing monsters.

“How…?” Bill says. “We checked everything. There’s no way they’re back there.”

“No idea,” Ali replies, shaking his head.

Capstan is already calling out orders, splitting the teams to reinforce the back while the rest of us stay.

“They really like their pincer attacks,” I grumble, and Ali nods.

In a moment, we don’t have time to talk as the Frakin launch themselves at our defenses again. I find myself smiling grimly as I open fire. Tracking monsters and killing them has become so routine, I barely need to think about it. If the Spores think a simple pincer attack is enough to finish us, they’re wrong.

The smell of ionized air, burnt flesh, and the excretions of the Frakin as they die clogs the air, and I mentally command the helmet to filter it all out. There’s little I can do for the clatter of pincers on the ground and the screams of the Frakin as they die. We pile them up so high that the Frakin have to take time to pull down and shift bodies before they can come at us again.

Vir switches the attacks around more often, using the mages to hit the Frakin so we can husband our ammunition. Unlike many of the other front-line fighters, I’m carrying fewer Mana batteries, so I find myself switching over to throwing magic rather than shooting. I get a few raised eyebrows, but I’ve got the Mana to do so and I make sure not to let it drop below 80%. This is a marathon, not a sprint, especially with the numbers we’ve seen so far.

We hammer away at the Frakin. Plasma and normal Frakin are the majority, with the occasional acid-spitter, of the variations so far. It’s a constant barrage of damage and spells, broken up only by Vir calling a rotation or when the bodies pile up so high that the Frakin have to pull them apart to continue their attack. In time, the drone feeding us information on our attackers stops sending us information, leaving us in the dark once again.

As the Frakin pull aside the next wall of bodies, I catch a glimpse of something new, a virulent purple, and I narrow my eyes, trying to spot it again. I only get a second before a new attack comes—blobs of barely-held-together purple sacs thrown from behind the wall of corpses. As they impact, the sacs split open. A greenish-purple liquid spills onto the ground and releases vapors. All around me, the humans begin choking and covering their faces. Bill slaps a hand outward, calling forth a gas mask, as do other humans. The fully armored Hakarta are safe in their suits and continue to fire. The Yerick just growl softly, fighting through the fumes without slacking off.

Even as gas masks protect against the primary effects, the secondary effects kick in, attacking any exposed body parts. The distraction is enough to make even the Yerick pause as they get proper armor on. The drop in fire means the Frakin surge ahead. I snarl, opening fire on full-auto with Sabre’s projectile rifle, taking up the slack. Black lightning and fireballs surge past my head as mages behind me lend a hand.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a hunter pop up, helmet down and gloves on, to receive a sac straight in the face. It splits on top of him, covering his entire body. I see the liquid eat away at his armor even as Vir grabs his body and tosses him into the backlines.

The combined fire by the mages and the humans quickly establishes a new deadlock. Unfortunately, the Spores aren’t done with their surprises. Shouldering aside a pair of poisonous Frakin, a silver-steel creature charges forward. Beams of light bounce off its body, doing little damage and adding to the confusion of battle. Even as I target it, another of the oversized bugs appears, then another. Explosive projectiles do damage, splitting open the armored hide, but a single gun isn’t enough. Even as the humans recover, the creatures bear down on us.

Almost, I trigger my missiles. Almost. Before I can, rock spears rise up, impaling monsters and hindering their approach. It buys us a few moments, enough time for the mages to send a breeze in to clear out some of the fumes and for the rest of the humans to get their gear on. Even the Yerick finally take the time to fully gear up, slapping on a small triangular patch that sets up a low-level repelling field. I make a mental note to look into that in the future as I lob a fireball into the cavern. Vir moves from group to group, shifting our fields of fire so that each section has a mix of firepower, beams, and projectiles smashing into whatever monster decides to show its face.

As the rock spears get broken down by the Behemoth Frakin, more are thrown up by the mages behind us. A few quick additions of fast-set glue grenades turns the new bodies into a new obstacle the Frakin have to fight through, which gives us time to rest and recover.

Our front covered, I glance at my map and screens to see how things are going in the other locations and flinch. I forcibly make myself hold still even as I watch the red dots overwhelm the friendly blues in the corridor. Not just any blues—those dots contain Lana, Richard, and Mikito. Behind us, Aron and Labashi’s timely intervention has driven back the monsters long enough at least for the backline to recover.

“Trust in them, John,” Ali says.

I nod dumbly. Even if I took off right this second, I’d be minutes away from the group, long minutes when the Frakin could finish them. I just have to trust that my friends can handle themselves. I watch the minimap and the sudden disappearance of a large number of red dots, then the reformation of the blue line farther back.

“They’re retreating,” I mutter, staring at the map.

Ali offers a nod of confirmation. The blue dots don’t stop backing off even when the line reforms, the red dots surging forward constantly as my teammates lay down withering fire. I glance backward as Vir calls for the mages to take a break and give their Mana a rest. I have a moment to contemplate the sight of Capstan in huddled conversation with Labashi before I have to start shooting again. I’ve spent enough time with the Yerick by now to be able to tell that he’s worried.

The introduction of the two new types of Frakin is forcing us to drain our ammo, stamina, and Mana at an even greater rate. Even with potions to increase the last two, strained and worried looks have begun to creep onto the human faces. The Hakarta are impossible to read under their masks, but even the Yerick occasionally seem nervous. We’ve been fighting nonstop for hours, and the monsters just keep coming.

Five, ten minutes and the Frakin shift tactics again. Instead of sending a single type of monster at us, the Spores mix it up, sending groups. This makes no difference really, as we concentrate on our firing lines, focusing on killing the ones in our fields of fire rather than what they are. A part of me is thankful for the experienced fighters here; otherwise, we might just have fallen for the change.

Equilibrium is achieved again, at least on the front lines. I’ve switched back to my rifle when I can, letting Sabre reload the projectile rifle during much-needed breaks and pulling additional ammunition from my Altered Space for Sabre. When I can, I flick my gaze back and forth between the front lines, my companions, and the map.

Equilibrium on the front lines, but not in our fast-draining Mana and ammunition.

The first cry comes from one of the Yerick, a snarling, “I’m out.”

A moment later, his cry is echoed by a human. Then another, as guns fall silent. Vir snaps an order and the mages with earth spells throw up a temporary blockade, buying us more time at the cost of their Mana. We use it to reconfigure the front lines, staggering between melee and ranged fighters and the mages.

I can see the rearguard doing the same thing while my friends continue to retreat toward us at a glacially slow pace. They’re still too far away to talk to them directly or view them via our drones.

“Ali, how are we doing?” I ask.

“Not good. Drones are mostly drained, but the few we’ve got around here aren’t exactly seeing an end to these groups,” he announces just before Capstan calls me over.

I follow and find Bill’s raven-haired shadowy friend and Vir there too.

“They’re pushing us too hard. Take a few minutes, then we’re going with Plan F,” Capstan announces.

I grimace. Plan F for Final Run. It’s a Hail-Mary plan, one that we cooked up for use when and if the Spores and Frakin pushed us too hard. The three of us each have our own ways of getting through the hordes ahead. The plan is simple—while the others hold the monsters back, we’ll rush in as far as we can, hoping to find and kill the Boss.

“That bad?”

“Yes. We’re down to thirty percent of our reserves,” Labashi clarifies, and I grimace.

I knew things were getting bad, but I hadn’t realized it was that bad. That’s the strange part of this fight. As hard as we’re being pushed, no one has died on our lines so far and no one has stayed injured for long. Our unnatural healing and the Spells keep us in top fighting form—but that only lasts so long as we have enough ammo and Mana. Once we’re out, the end comes soon after.

“We’re uploading the latest scans from the drones to you now,” Capstan adds. “May the stars guide your way.”

Ali frowns, staring at the new information. He tilts his head as I walk to the side and pop open my helmet to scarf down some food. “I’m heading out first. I can’t get too far ahead of you, but if I push the edges, I might be able to lead you to the Boss.”

“Good idea,” I reply, chewing rapidly.

Ali floats a bit away then stops, shifting on his feet a bit before he finally speaks. “Take care, boy-o.”

Ali floats away before I can reply. I shake my head slightly, smiling grimly before glancing at the other two. They’re getting ready—stretching in the lady’s case and downing potion after potion in Vir’s. I flicker a smile at that, his actions reminding me to take the potions I’ve reserved. These are the best regeneration boosters that Sally supplied.

“Ready?” Capstan rumbles.

We offer him a nod, standing up and facing the corridor. Last chance, last run. Damn…

“Plan F. Cover fire on three, two, one. Now!” roars Capstan. He raises his own axe-cannon, letting loose the blast he was charging while he was speaking.

His fire is joined by the mages’, who have been holding back, vortex of destructive firepower ripping through the monsters that face us. The moment the fire slackens, the three of us are sprinting forward.

Covering fire from the sides flashes past us as guided weaponry and spells slam into still-living Frakin within the corridor, giving us a short, short few hundred meters of clear space. As we reach the first curve in the tunnel, we can see the Frakin boiling out of the corner. Vir’s ahead of us all and he flashes forward, exploding into a white mist that floats through the group. His progress slows down significantly in that form, but they can’t touch him.

Behind him, I jump and kick off a Frakin, my powered armor smashing the monster into the ground before I throw myself into a roll as I crash into the swarm. Even as I smash and bounce, I’m triggering the QSM and recovering on ultra-dimensional ground. A moment later, I watch as Bill’s Assassin/Rogue friend turns into a literal shadow and disappear into the darkness.

On my minimap, I see Ali dashing ahead as fast as he can. As he spots new and interesting monsters and my map gets updated before they disappear again as he leaves their presence. Still, it’s enough to let me know how much trouble we really are in—the swarm just doesn’t seem to ever end.

I keep sprinting, my companions lost as we each make our way through the swarm. Powerful as these Skills or technological toys are, they all have their own timers. The moment they run out, if we’re still in the swarm, we’ll shrivel up like a plastic bag in flames. Our only hope is speed.

I thunder down the passageways, running through shadowy Frakin until I see something that makes me pause. I don’t think, I just hammer the switch and flip back into reality, making sure I don’t pop into anything too dense when I shift back. I’m already programming the drone, sending it winging back as I land and spin, using the built-up momentum to open up the Frakin I spotted from abdomen to leg. It’s a monster of a creature, three-quarters the size of the entire passageway itself, and its armor is so tough that without the added levels of my Soulbound sword, I probably couldn’t even scratch it. The Frakin are slow to react, their senses scrambled by the illness, so I have a few moments to lay into the creature in peace. A few moments to tear a chunk into the creature’s body and a few moments more to pull a grenade to plant in its body. The moment my hand is inside it and I’ve let go of the grenade, I trigger the QSM.

I run through the creature, three seconds barely enough time to get away before the explosion contained in the monster ripples outward. It buys the drone and my friends a few moments, since the Frakin will have to move the corpse. A few moments to get ready for the other three Titanic Frakin behind it. I don’t have time to keep up this fight—in fact, draining the QSM to pop in and out like that might have been a bad idea.

Ahead, the tunnel splits and I take the right turn. It’s the direction that Ali went. Even as I run, I unleash a lightning bolt, the energy from the Spell scarring the walls. I can only hope that it’s a good enough indication for Vir and Shadow-girl to avoid this tunnel.

Four minutes into QSM with barely thirty seconds left and I finally pass the last of the Frakin. I dash past them all and the cavern they stream from, then I slide to a stop behind cover. Marginally hidden as I am, I kill the system, shifting over into my own dimension. I breathe raggedly, pulling in pure oxygen from Sabre’s tanks as I recover, hoping that I’m hidden enough. I have to be—I don’t have any other choice. Tucked in the corner as I am, the only sense I can rely on is my hearing. I find myself straining to hear something, anything that might tell me if I made it.

The drip of water, the skittering of insects and spiders, and the far-off tromp of Frakin are all that I sense. No sign of pursuit, no sign of my friends. I slowly exhale, pushing away from my hiding spot, and head deeper, following the trail Ali blazed. I can only hope that the others are doing their job and searching for the Boss too.

“Boy-o, take the right. Dead end here.”

I nod to Ali’s instructions though he can’t see me, doing as he says when I reach the split. I can see Ali flying back from the cavern that dead-ended on him, eager to catch up and take back his scouting duties. I can’t wait for him, knowing that my friends are fighting with everything they’ve got behind me. I can’t hear them or see them—even the updates to my map have stopped—but I know, I know, we’re running out of time.

Time… I’m constantly fighting against it. I pick up the pace, dodging the occasional Frakin I spot curled up in a corner or wandering around, too sick to be controlled by the Spores. I’m moving so fast that I barely notice the immobile Frakin that comes alive the moment I bound over it.

Scouts. Or guards. Whatever the case, they know I’m here. On the other hand, guards probably mean I’m on the right track. I keep an eye out for more as I run, dodging from side to side as the Frakin behind me spits out bolts of destructive light. I turn the corner, finding myself hoping to run into more trouble. Trouble would be good.

My perverse desires rewarded in a few minutes with another sighting—a trio of Frakin that lie in wait. Their reactions are staggered, not coordinated, which is all that allows me to dodge through the barrage that opens up. The trick to actually dodging faster-than-sound attacks isn’t to dodge the attacks themselves but to forecast and dodge around where they will fire. Bodies rise, mouths open, and glinting teeth reflect the building charge. I just make sure I’m never where they’re pointing. It’s a calculation I could never have made as a non-System-registered human—but with my upgraded abilities, it seems trivial. At least against three of these monsters.

I draw and send out a Blade Slash, the brilliant line of force slashing open the Frakin as I near them. I take a few moments to finish them off, figuring that I’d better deal with stragglers now rather than later. As it stands, I have a feeling I’m close.

“Ali, can you find the others?”

“Maybe. Don’t you want me with you, boy-o?” the Spirit replies.

I shake my head. “No, if you can get them or get close enough to get a message to them, that’d be better. Never know what kind of trouble I’ll run into, and this looks like the way to the Boss.”

Left unsaid is the fact that if I fail, we need one of the others to succeed.

Down the hallway, as I close in on the upcoming cavern, my eyes widen. I guess they held back a couple dozen. I snarl, skidding to a stop. The sudden eruption of acid blobs, plasma bolts, and beams tell me that my arrival was expected. Crouching out of sight, I draw forth grenades and toss them in one after the other. I’m sure the Spores will send the Frakin to me eventually, once they realize what’s happening, but it’ll take time for them to figure it out and even more time to send the commands to the sick creatures. Time I can use to whittle down my opponents.

Explosions ripple outward from the cavern as I sling grenade after grenade, explosions and disappearing red dots telling the tale to me. Unfortunately, I can’t kill enough of them before they’re on me, trundling up the slight slope of the cavern to enter the passageway. I find myself fighting in the middle of a swarm again, sword spinning and cutting, moving from one hand to another as I cut, kick, and punch my way through the monsters. I know better than to hold still, so I dance into their midst. Blasts of plasma and globs of acid fly all around me. Pincers glance off my armor and add to my momentum. Don’t stop—don’t ever stop.

I find myself through the group, a pair of grenades in hand. I flip them into the center of the swarming mass, the resulting explosion barely muffled by the press of bodies. I hop backward, raising my rifle and spraying the remaining monsters on full-auto, dumping the entire magazine into them in a few seconds. I land, sword appearing in hand to deflect a spike of stone, as I scan my opponents. Only a half dozen left, most of them pretty damaged.

I flex my legs, dashing forward to finish this. Time to get rid of these minnows.

Finding the Boss Frakin and, hopefully, the core of the Spore mind is easy after that. There’s only one passageway from here. As I sneak forward, I wonder how bad this is going to be.

Well, at least I know why the Spores haven’t gotten much more active in spreading themselves—the Boss Frakin is so big, there’s no way it could fit through the passageways. Of course, that also explains why the Spores have gotten so smart, if they’ve taken over that as their Overmind’s body.

Eight legs, a double pair of pincers that fit over its bulbous body, three stingers, and more teeth than I have bullets make up the reddish-brown monster. Scrambling around it are more Frakin, maybe a dozen, that are each about double the size of a normal creature. And clustered around those are another score of smaller Frakin, a mix of glowing green, red, and purple stingers indicating a slew of nasty ranged options.

The fact that half the Frakin are watching my passageway and the other half are looking to my left has me giving the cavern a more thorough investigation. A moment later, I realize why—there’s another entrance that way. Smaller, tighter, and more exposed than mine, but definitely another way in.

I draw a deep breath, exhaling as my mind runs. This is bad. This is more than I can handle. Certainly the Boss is a lot bigger than I ever expected. This—this is something I’d want my whole party to tackle.

On the other hand, it’s not as if there’s anyone else here to help me. If I want it dead, I’m going to have to do it. Biting my lip, I start planning.

Chapter 22

Five minutes later, I’m done. First step was to set up a few sensors down the way I came to ensure I have some warning when the monsters come for me. Sure, I could theoretically spot it in my minimap, but if I’m in the middle of a fight, I don’t want to count on that.

Second step is to split their forces. No reason to try to fight all of them, not if I can help it. I tap into my Altered Space, grab the guns I stored there, and set them up quickly, along with more Claymore mines in two separate locations. I then push them outward and flick their targeting software on, watching as they spew fire at the monsters beneath me. I back off from the ledge and around cover as return fire comes in short order.

The guns last all of a few seconds before they get blown to pieces, which is the main reason why we didn’t even bother setting them up for the swarm. However, they do what I wanted, which is attract attention and drag the Frakin to me. They come, but they come in force, nearly half the group that was watching my passageway rushing in.

I cast Polar Wind immediately, the Spell freezing and slowing the monsters as they trundle forward. It does very little damage, unlike the high explosive projectiles I unleash next, but it buys me time and, more importantly, bunches them up. When the vanguard is past the immediate blast area, I trigger the Claymores.

Only two thirds of the Claymores go off unfortunately—it seems they aren’t rated to handle the intense cold brought about by my Spell. Pressurized air and thousands of ball bearings spin outward, confined in the passageways so that even those that miss on the first pass have a second, third, and even fourth chance to kill and damage. Of course, even backed off as I am, I get smashed by a few too, but Sabre’s armor is more than sufficient to take the bouncebacks with little additional damage.

Once the explosion dies down a little, I wade into the group, cutting and chopping and firing into open wounds. Fun fact—screwed-up, System-enabled world or not, you can still do more damage by shooting into exposed wounds than you can just shooting indiscriminately. Of course, it isn’t that easy—the Frakin Champions are true monsters, big and tough, and even injured, they put up a good fight. At the end of it, I’m limping and Sabre’s down to eighty-two percent integrity. As my bullets get reloaded, I cast a quick Healing to speed up the recovery process for myself.

Stage two done, I poke my head around the corner carefully before pulling back as shots come within seconds. It’s enough to let me know that not much has changed, other than a redistribution of the monsters inside. I scurry to the side then poke my head out again, noting they aren’t coming up. My precautions are of little use as the Boss decides to let loose a blast from its stinger. The explosion throws me into the wall and backward down the corridor. I groan, seeing the flashing damage icons.

Stage three it is then.

I wish I could say I have a brilliant, mind-shatteringly smart idea. I don’t. I don’t even have a particularly good idea. All I have is a bunch of explosives, my Spells, and the need to finish this off. I take a running start, crossing the ground to the entrance of the cavern as Frakin continue to lob attacks at it occasionally. As I near, I Blink Step into the air, bypassing the additional reflexive fire that comes at where I should be if I exited normally. This gives me more than enough time to launch my first set of missiles into the gathered Frakin, and I watch the missiles throw up flame, dirt, and blood below me. Even as I land, I’m casting Polar Wind with one hand and snatching smoke grenades to toss onto the ground with the other.

As I sprint to the side, I keep my head swiveling, tagging monsters in my display with a thought as I keep dropping the temperature via Polar Wind. I have to keep them on their toes, keep rocking them with sudden changes and new tactics, so that I can fight them piecemeal and whittle them down. As the smoke grenades begin to fill the air, I add my last additional toy to the battle—high-tech white phosphorous grenades. I throw the self-propelled grenades into the air, where they split apart, each separate portion tracking their pre-selected targets. The portions attach before igniting the phosphorous and directing the burning substance into the creatures as 2760 C, or about half the surface temperature of the sun.

The Frakin go crazy, the incendiaries burning through their chitin and ticking down their health. Of course, the System does reduce the amount of actual physical damage based off their health points, but pain is the major goal here.

Instinct makes me trigger Blink Step and not a moment too soon, as the Boss’s stinger smashes into the column of stone I was hiding behind. As I reappear, I spin around and trigger my rifle, going full-auto into the creature’s side. The Boss is a weird image of wireframe outlines, infrared shading, and normal vision as my helmet compensates for reduced visibility. I’m targeting a single spot—just below the second pair of legs. where the creature’s heart is. If I can chew through enough of its armor, I just might be able to do some real damage. My heart thuds faster, my breathing shortening slightly as I recall the stinger, but I don’t have time.

I keep moving, opening fire with rifle and missiles, leaving my sword to cut and slice monsters as I dance through the cavern, always trying to keep my target in sight. Occasionally I toss a sticky grenade at a monster that nears me, capturing and locking it in place. Unfortunately, I forget I’m fighting a thinking creature and my movements are too predictable.

As I lop off the leg of a Champion Frakin, the Boss’s pincer catches me and throws me into a wall. It’s only the reduced visibility and its sickness that makes the Boss’s next swing mostly miss, the pincer smashing into my upper left side and crushing Sabre’s shield, sending me careening off in a different direction. Lucky for me—otherwise the follow-up blast from the other stinger might have finished me off.

My ears are ringing and I can taste blood as I slowly look up. The Frakin Boss isn’t stopping though, rushing toward me as I stagger to my feet. I need time, so I slap on my Mana Shield just in time for one of the Plasma Frakin’s blasts to be caught on it. I trigger Blink Step again, wincing as my Mana pool drops once more.

A glance at the Boss Frakin is all I need to tell me that this isn’t working. Fighting a monster like this head-on was a vain hope, but it’s not as if I had a choice. Somewhere back there, my friends are fighting, maybe dying. I have to finish this.

Of course, wishing something will happen doesn’t mean that it will, and all I’ve got right now is a lot of wishes and dreams. Running to the side, sword slashing out against the monsters, I stare at the blinking icons indicating that I’ve loaded everything I have. Once I shoot this, I’m done—then I’m down to hacking and cutting at the Boss.

“Keep it busy for another minute, boy-o.” Ali’s dry tone almost makes me shout in joy.

I nod, thinking a confirmation as I switch directions, running straight into the incoming pair of Champion Frakin. I catch one of their stingers on the sword, spin around with its momentum to help me dodge the second, then Blink Step away as the blast from the Boss’s stinger turns the Champions into so much crispy meat. A wavefront of the blast catches me, tossing me to the ground. I roll with it and spin up, loosing a short burst that tears open and ends the Acid Frakin rearing above me. Warning lights blink as the damn acid eats into Sabre, but I’m up and running again.

I trigger Blink Step, watching my Mana plunge as I flicker to a spot that gives me a view of the Boss monster. Or will, I hope, as I fire the missiles. The monster spins just like I figured it would. Or perhaps I should say its reactions to my previous actions are predictable. Either way, it puts itself perfectly in position to receive the full load of mini-missiles into its side, each tiny guided package impacting and ripping deeper and deeper into the Boss’s torso.

In anger, the monster swings down a pincer to crush me and I don’t have time to dodge. Instead, I conjure my sword and take the blow on it, gripping the blade with my other armored hand as the weight of the monster bears down on me. Power-assisted knees buckle and pain shoots up my thighs as I crumple, the too-sharp edge of my blade having cut through the monster’s chitin such that the rest of the pincer smashes into me. Oops…

Warning lights shriek all around me and I whimper slightly, the ringing in my head having gotten so much worse. My sword, still embedded in the pincer gets taken into the air as the monster withdraws its appendage, leaving me in a crumpled camel pose. I watch in slow motion as the monster aims its glowing, beam-casting stinger at me even as I attempt to scramble away. The explosion of light and sound that comes from the side catches both of us by surprise.

A red beam of light with twisting green and white streams erupts from the second entrance, smashing into the creature with such force that its own beam is jerked aside and played across a trio of unlucky Frakin charging toward me. I stumble to my feet as the maelstrom of energy digs into the monster’s side and tears off a stinger and two legs, ripping a giant hole in the Boss’s body. The legs flop to the ground, still twitching, as blood spills in a waterfall, just like the Boss’s health bar. The beam adjusts and continues to burn through the monster. A bare fifth of its health is all that’s left when the beam finally stops, but the Boss is still standing.

I snarl, dodging to the side as a Champion Frakin staggers up to me. I recall my sword, cut at its pincers, and when a chance comes, I call up Cleave to help shear off a pincer entirely. I do all this while my brain switches to overdrive, trying to figure out what other options we have left.

“Ali, who was that? And can they do it again?” I find myself mentally shouting as I work to finish off this monster.

“Vir and no can do. He’s tapped. Whoops! Sorry, those beams can hurt even me—got to do some dodging here. He’s switching over to his guns, but that ain’t going to cut it.”

I grunt, stabbing my sword directly into the monster’s mouth. “Shadow-girl?”

“The assassin? No idea—I haven’t seen her.”

Shit, if she doesn’t find her way here herself, there’s no way Ali can find her and make it back in time. It’s a minor miracle he found Vir.

Too busy paying attention to my talk, I move just a little too slow and the damn Frakin chomps down on my arm. It compresses the armor around me, grinding away, and I snarl, summoning and casting Mana Darts directly down its guts. The Champion shudders, tossing me aside with a reflexive twitch that has me landing on my side and rolling for a few seconds.

I use a nearby stalagmite to pull myself up, grimacing as I flex my hand. Thankfully, the Boss, along with the majority of the surviving monsters, is busy making Vir’s life miserable. The smoke has dissipated enough that the creatures are finding me faster and faster now. On the other hand, at least the bugger who decided to try to eat me is dead. Mana Darts down its throat was enough to make it choke to death.

I blink, staring at the Boss. I have a way to finish this. It just requires I do something utterly insane. Well… that’s not new.

“Oy! Big boy!” I shout, using the mecha’s inbuilt speakers to make sure I’m heard. The Boss hesitates, so I use a few Blade Strikes to drag its attention to me again, targeting the open wound I was working on. “That’s right. Right here, stupid.”

The Boss finally turns to me, beam stinger swinging around to aim at me. A targeted blast by Vir catches it as it begins to charge up, forcing it to aim higher. I don’t waste any more time, dashing forward to the creature’s body. One thing about it being so big, there are dead zones where its own pincers can’t target—if you can get close enough.

I run ahead, letting loose with the last of my projectile ammo as I do so, and carefully watch for the attack I know will come. When the pincer swings, I Blink forward to where I should be safe. Then I open up with another Blade Strike, targeting the softer, less-armored underside.

Not good enough to kill it, but it certainly angers the monster. Anger is good—it lets you push through pain and obstacles that you couldn’t otherwise, but it also blinds you, clouds your judgment, and makes you take the easiest, most instinctive choice. I can’t be hit by the pincers, but I’m close enough to bite. So it does.

“Noooo!” Ali screams as I stand still, letting the mouth close in on me.

At the last minute, I kick off the ground and jump directly into its mouth, throwing myself as deep as I can get to bypass as much of the teeth as possible. I make it most of the way, my foot catching and ripping itself apart on the backrow of teeth.

It’s very dark in here—dark and squishy. I’m entirely grateful that I can neither smell nor truly feel what is happening to me, thanks to Sabre and the Soul Shield I’ve turned on. On the other hand, the Boss, having eaten me, has decided to swallow. I find myself thrown to the back of its throat, and only a hastily dug-in sword to its larynx stops me from sliding all the way in. It takes a little scrambling and a lot of hard pushing, but I find myself lodged just above the creature’s esophagus.

Still, can’t let it go hungry. I drop the first of the sticky grenades I have left down its throat, ignoring the screaming alarm bells and the increased pressure on me as the Boss swings its head around, trying to dislodge me. The grenade goes off, coating the insides of its throat. It explodes below where I wanted it to go off, but that’s okay, I’ve got more coming.

Before I started this insane plan, I spent a few moments running around the cavern, grabbing bodies and rocks and stuffing it all into my Altered Space. Now I let it loose, along with everything else I’ve got stored in there. My tent, drone pieces, armor replacements for Sabre, tent pegs and hammocks, my dinner, everything in my Altered Space gets dropped down its throat, interspersed with the occasional sticky grenade. The Boss keeps reflexively swallowing, attempting to dislodge me and get its breathing back, but I refuse, continually working on clogging up its throat and thus its airway.

My Soul Shield finally blinks out and I don’t have enough Mana to throw up another. The Boss swallows again and the muscles in its throat clench, sending pain through my body as Sabre compresses and begins to redline. That’s it then. That’s all I can do.

I rip downward with my sword, opening up the wound in its mouth, then I trigger the QSM for one final shift, dropping myself out of this reality and consequently its mouth. I hit the ground hard, as gravity still works on me, and am treated to the final death throes of the Boss. It tosses and turns, slamming its head against the ground and the wall in an attempt to dislodge and clear its throat.

As I get up to run, the Mana battery in the QSM beeps empty and it automatically kicks me back into “normal” reality. Without any additional Mana, the changeover is harsh and pulls a scream from me as muscles, bones, and nerves are thrown across the dimensional barrier. I whimper, lying on the ground in pain, unable to move as the Boss lashes out in a frenzy around me. A glancing blow from one of its legs sends me flying into a wall, and I black out finally.

I come to in blessed peace. Outside of the hiss of cooling stone and the drip of water, there is silence. Awake and without Sabre, I’m assaulted by the stench in the cavern. In its dying moments, the Boss Frakin voided its bowels, leaving a yellow-pink mixture all around that smells worse than two-week-old rotting meat and baby diapers. I heave and throw up, only managing to roll far enough to the side that only half of my vomit hits me.

I whimper, the sudden movement setting off a pair of screaming toddlers in my head. Mana drained, physically wiped, and with only a touch of health left, I wonder where Sabre is and why I’m unarmored, but mostly, I wonder when the pain will stop.

“Awake finally, eh?” The voice cuts across my misery, gloating amusement in its tone. “Well, rest five minutes, then we should get going. The Frakin are still around and some are beginning to come back.”

I open my eyes, blurry spots slowly resolving into Shadow-girl. I’ve really got to remember her name sometime. Next to her, Ali floats, casually admiring her booty. I’d say something, but I’m pretty sure she knows—and has either given up on correcting the incorporeal Spirit or just doesn’t care. Next to the two is the split-open form of Sabre—the mecha must have ejected me after its Mana battery gave out.

“You are insane, boy-o. Effective but insane,” Ali says, and I force a grin.

“Had you worried.” I try to push myself up and find myself failing to do so. I just relax as my body, aided by the regeneration potions I downed earlier, works on putting me together. Already, my body is repairing the damage.

“I must concur with the Spirit,” Vir adds from where he is seated, head resting on his arms. There’s blood on his torso and one arm looks pretty shredded. He smiles at me though, probably to show he means no real disrespect. It looks creepy on the normally stern Guard, and I wish he’d stop. “That was not a tactic I would have considered.”

“No shit,” the woman says, eyes roving over the cavern.

I tilt my head upward, noting that her Status bar is still blank. Damn, but it’s annoying not being able to read System data on her.

“What exactly did you do anyway? Poison it?” she asks.

I blink, then realize they would have no way to see into the monster’s corpse. “Blocked its airway. Choked it to death.”

“Huh.” Shadow-girls frowns.

I see a slight shift in her body just before she disappears and closes in on the Frakin that wandered back into the cavern. A moment later, she walks back to us, cleaning her blade. Behind her, the Frakin screams and twitches, its legs on one side severed. It begins to froth from its mouth as the poison she used takes effect.

“You good yet?” she asks.

I glance at my bars and take stock of my own physical situation before I answer her. “Five minutes.”

“Fine.”

While I recover, Ali fills me in on what happened after I blacked out. Seems like Shadow-girl popped over to my body and dragged me out of the way of the frenzied Boss, then she protected Vir and me from the remnants of the Frakin guard while the Boss died. It didn’t take long, and she mopped up the group soon after. Since then, they’ve been waiting for me to wake up. I guess I owe the lady one.

When they finish speaking, I read System notifications as a way to distract myself from the throbbing pain.

Congratulations! Dungeon Cleared

+10,000 XP

First Clear Bonus

Having cleared the dungeon for the first time, you have been rewarded an additional +5,000XP +1,000 Credits. Bonus for being the first explorer +5,000 XP +5,000 Credits.

Two-Horn Mountain Dungeon classified as Level 50+ and above.

System Quest Complete (Onlivik Spores)

Destroy the Onlivik Spores that have infected the Frakin in the Two-Horn Mountain Dungeon.

Rewards (shared): 50,000 Credits, 20,000 XP

Level Up! * 4

You have reached Level 34 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 12 Free Attribute Points and 3 Class Skills to distribute.

I blink, staring at the huge level gains. Between the completion bonuses and the kill bonuses, I jumped up a heck of a lot of Levels in one fight. I wish it’d been earlier, but beggars and choosers and all that.

“Next time you’re on one of these jaunts, call me,” Shadow-girl says as I look up. “The experience was pretty damn good.”

I snort and glance at Vir, who is looking significantly better now.

He straightens, standing up and pulling a rifle from his inventory. “Shall we?”

The journey back is a slow one, only manageable because the Frakin are disorganized, damaged, and confused. The loss of the Boss must have wiped out their central intelligence, removing any last remnants of organization. Shadow-girl—whose name I finally learn is Ingrid Starling—makes sure to kill any Frakin we run into. Vir and I mostly offer verbal and moral encouragement.

Two thirds of the way back, we finally run into our first rescue party. They have been setting up signal boosters along the way, which lets us contact everyone else and confirm that we’re alive. The news on their end is less than stellar and I find myself dragging my feet more than I need to as we return. Call me a coward, but I’d rather face another Boss than what is coming.

The air in the cavern is somber when we arrive, individuals clustered in silent groups around fallen comrades. Low sobbing and grunting can be heard, while others carry their loss with fixed expressions, unable or unwilling to grieve yet. We won, but we didn’t get out of this unscathed. The Hakarta lost a third of their people, having borne the brunt of the attacks, while the Yerick lost another pair. On our side, Jim’s lost half of those he brought in. However, to me, all that pales beside the drawn, haggard face that is swarmed by huskies in an attempt at comfort.

I walk over to Lana, gently pushing at the puppies to move them aside. My gut clenches and I feel tears threaten to take over, but I push them aside, walling away my feelings. Not now, not me. Lana is sobbing, clutching the unmoving body with a death grip, blood staining her clothing from the open wounds on his corpse. Rachel grips Jason’s arm as they watch over the redhead, at a loss of words. Squatting beside her, I place a hand on her shoulder. Lana flinches slightly but doesn’t pull away. I feel a lump in my throat, blocking any words I could say. In the end, I just squat next to her, a hand on her shoulder, and wait.

Damn it, Richard.

Chapter 23

It takes a day more to completely clear the dungeon. With Mana pools and beam weapons recharged and the Frakin no longer bunching up and coordinated, it’s a simple matter for the teams to spread out and finish off the monsters. I stay behind, keeping watch over the camp and Lana, who has taken control of her brother’s pets, replacing those she lost. The only pet of Richard’s that survived but she doesn’t manage to get is Orel, who is long gone when we exit. Their job done, the Hakarta take off immediately with promises to get paid. Labashi shoots me a look when he leaves which reminds me that I’m still indebted and under contract with him.

In typical post-System fashion, the moment we get back to Whitehorse, we end up having to man the walls and fight off a monster swarm. Thankfully, it hits us from the airport side of town, so all we have to do is hunker down and kill. A few monsters try going down the cliffs, but they’re simple enough to kill that it’s more of a bother than a serious threat. We’ll never know if a party was planned because after the swarm, everyone pitches in on the cleanup. Even Bill, though I notice he spends about as much time looting as he does hauling.

The fallout from the delve comes in small portions. Rachel left Whitehorse permanently, joining Jason in Carcross. Aiden has vowed to never leave the classroom again. There’re even rumors that we might get another batch of immigrants soon from the System.

When I find time to visit the Shop, I sell the System-generated loot from my inventory. The central-Spore mass and the Frakin plasma generators both bring in significant Credits. I don’t have the heart to go shopping right then though.

Once she calms down, Lana has me take Richard’s body into my Altered Space to preserve it. A week after he died, we finally manage to make the trip to their old farm to bury him, his body set to rest beneath the remnants of their old house. Lana says little during the entire process, though I think, I believe, she finds comfort in Mikito’s and my presence.

I watch her stand with her menagerie of pets, staring at her brother’s grave, and my mind returns to the first night we got back to Whitehorse after the dungeon. She entered my room, distraught, and pushed me down, straddling me and laying fevered kisses on my face. I have to admit, I returned them for a time before good sense came back to me and I pushed her away.

“Why? Am I not good enough for you?” She was crying, clutching her open blouse closed. I recall the flash of pale, smooth flesh and the intoxicating scent of her.

“No, but you’re grieving. This… you aren’t thinking right.”

She slapped me then and left. Since then, there’s been a wall between us. I don’t know if I did the right thing, if I made the right choice. I want her, I care for her—but not like that. What she wanted and what she needed weren’t the same thing—and if I took advantage of her at that time, perhaps it would have wrecked our relationship. Or at least changed it in a way that I don’t want. Or maybe not. Maybe I was an idiot.

I don’t know if I did the right thing for her, for us, for our future. All I know is that it was the right choice for me at that time. Whatever happens, happens.

Lana slowly steps away from the grave, which has already received a light dusting of snow. She turns toward us, nodding just once before she walks to the truck. Something in the way she moves, the way she looks at us keeps us from bothering her.

I stare one last time at the grave, just a plot of earth and a basic stone cross. My lips twist as I realize that this, a simple ceremony and a grave, is more than most on this planet have been offered. More than the majority of humanity has to indicate their passing.

I close my eyes and whisper to Ali, “How many?”

“Eleven point four percent,” Ali answers, his voice as soft as mine.

I nod dumbly. Nearly ninety percent of humanity, countless millions, are dead. I can’t do anything for them. I can’t even stop the ones who are still alive from dying, can’t stop the mass murder of millions by the System. We’re not the only ones either. On all the planets of the System, more die every day.

Our heroes are dead. The smart, the brave, and the good lie in countless graves all over the world. I keep trying to be something I’m not, and I keep failing. I’m no hero, no Lancelot or Superman. I don’t do this because it’s the right thing to do or because I think there’s an intrinsic value to human life. I do it because I can’t let go, because I can’t seem to choose anything else. I do it because I have a sea of rage that never ends and I need an outlet, a place to point it.

What is, is.

No more walking away, no more hiding. The dead howl and cry; the lost and forgotten souls of the world weep. I’ll light a pyre for them—for the ones who have died, for the ones who will die, and for the ones who will come into this blasted world. I’ll light a fire so bright that they’ll see it all the way in their damn Council. And then, when I’m done, I’ll burn their damn System to the ground.

Ali floats back to me, staring at my face, and he inclines his head slightly. Yes, it’s time to get back to work.

***

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

Mana Imbue

Two are One

Thousand Steps

Blade Strike

The Body’s Resolve

Greater Detection

Altered Space

A Thousand Blades

Shield Transference

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Army of One

Sanctum

Body Swap

Portal

John’s Skills

Mana Imbue (Level 1)

Soulbound weapon now permanently imbued with Mana to deal more damage on each hit. +10 Base Damage (Mana). Will ignore armor and resistances. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

Blade Strike (Level 2)

By projecting additional Mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard’s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to twenty feet away.

Cost: 35 Stamina + 35 Mana

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement-related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Altered Space (Level 2)

The Honor Guard now has access to an extra-dimensional storage location of thirty feet cubed. Items stored must be touched to be willed in and may not include living creatures or items currently affected by auras that are not the Honor Guard’s. Mana regeneration reduced by 10 Mana per minute permanently.

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self

Cost: 5 Mana per second

The Body’s Resolve (Level 3)

Effect: Increase natural health regeneration by 35%. On-going health status effects reduced by 33%. Honor Guard may now regenerate lost limbs. Mana regeneration reduced by 15 Mana per minute permanently.

Greater Detection (Level 1)

Effect: User may now detect System creatures up to one kilometer away. General information about strength level is provided on detection. Stealth skills, Class skills, and ambient Mana density will influence the effectiveness of this skill. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

Soul Shield (Level 2)

Effect: Creates a manipulatable shield to cover the caster’s or target’s body. Shield has 1,000 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line of sight. May include Spirit’s line of sight. Maximum range—five hundred meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

Frenzy (Level 1)

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%.

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

Cleave (Level 1)

Effect: Physical attacks deal 50% more damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills.

Cost: 25 Mana

Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)

Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item in Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must touch item.

Cost: 5 Mana per item

Author’s Note

Thank you for continuing to read and support my writing. The System Apocalypse series is meant to be an on-going series that will span at least nine books, potentially more. The Whitehorse portion of the series will come to a conclusion in the next book. I’d say more, but that’d be giving away the plot.

If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating. Not only is it a big ego boost, it also helps sales and convinces me to write more in the series!

Additional books for the System Apocalypse are out including:

- Redeemer of the DeadRedeemer of the Dead(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075NR9RCH)

(Book 2)

- The Cost of Survival (Book 3)The Cost of Survival (Book 3)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079B7B4GP/)

In addition, please check out my other LitRPG series (available on Amazon, Smashwords, iBooks and more!)—

- A Healer’s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)A Healer’s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071KD1X35)

- An Adventurer’s Heart (Book 2 of the Adventures on Brad)An Adventurer’s Heart (Book 2 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B075NT92ML/ref%3dseries_rw_dp_sw)

- A Dungeon’s Soul (Book 3 of the Adventures on Brad)A Dungeon’s Soul (Book 3 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077NNGXKY)

For more great information about LitRPG series, check out the Facebook groups:

- LitRPG SocietyLitRPG Society(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPGsociety/)

- LitRPG Books- LitRPG Books(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPG.books/)

About the Author

Tao Wong is an avid fantasy and sci-fi reader who spends his time working and writing in the North of Canada. He’s spent way too many years doing martial arts of many forms, and having broken himself too often, he now spends his time writing about fantasy worlds.

For updates on the series and my other books (and special one-shot stories), please visit my website: http://www.mylifemytao.comhttp://www.mylifemytao.com(http://www.mylifemytao.com)

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The Cost of Survival

Tao Wong

System Apocalypse #3

The Cost of Survival

An Apocalyptic LitRPG

Book 3 of the System Apocalypse

by

Tao Wong

Copyright

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 persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The Cost of Survival

Copyright © 2018 Tao Wong. All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2018 Sarah Anderson Cover Designer

ISBN: 9781775058762

Chapter 1

Regrets are a part of life, one that we all bear in different forms.. Words that should never have been said, punches that should never have been thrown, anger that should never have been swallowed. Actions and inactions can lead to regret, making your entire world nothing but pain and disappointment over things you should have done or not done.

Right about now, I’m regretting getting out of bed and making this meeting.

“You going to help?” I snarl as I snap-kick a weird snake-cow hybrid away from me, then shoot the one that follows it in the gut. Standing in the middle of a monster swarm in the Carcross Cutoff, surrounded by Hakarta who are barely bothering to do anything, is not happy making. It really isn’t. Of course, if I’d known the swarm would happen while we were talking, I would never have come out but some things you just can’t control.

Major Labashi Rukar, the space-marine mercenary Orc and my erstwhile semi-employer, grins at me in response. Labashi flicks a pebble with his off-hand so hard that the impromptu projectile pierces a Snow Caribou in the head, dropping it instantly. The major and most of his people out-level the swarm of monsters around us by a significant amount. Which would be great for me if they decided to actually help. Instead, Labashi seems insistent on continuing my debrief.

“This is the fifth swarm then?” Labashi says in that System-given upper-class British accent of his.

Another of the deer swerves rather than rush him, heading in my direction. Behind it, even more monsters cluster and charge over the snow, the swarm running, jumping, and flying away as they abandon old zones for newer, less dangerous ones. Monster swarms are part and parcel of our life since the System designated Earth as a Dungeon World. Mana begets monsters who vie for control of mana-rich zones. Leave the monsters alone in any one zone too long and the most powerful eventually drive away the lower-level ones, kicking off a giant domino effect.

I sidestep the deer whose head butts up against Sabre’s—my mecha-cum-motorcycle—shield before I snap off a shot with the Inlin machine gun at another threat. “Just about.”

“Just about?”

Beside Labashi, the rest of his squad are taking bets and fighting bare-handed in a casual display of strength while they wait.

“Yes. The fifth! Things have been a bit busy lately,” I snap as I shoot the next three deer in quick succession. High-explosive projectile rounds from the Inlin tear holes into the monsters, sufficient to deter their advance. “The swarms are coming faster and faster.”

“Not surprising. Your defenses?”

“Improving. The first were ultra-low levels. These guys,” I snarl and catch the Level 24 wolverine before it can clamp its jaws around my helmet. A powered-armor-assisted throw sends the monster flying into the distance to be gored by another as it lands. “Are a bit more of a challenge than the last swarm.”

“Your hunters leveling?” Labashi continues with his questioning about the city.

Months ago, I ended up with a System-enforced Contract with the major, forcing me to feed him information about Whitehorse whenever he wants it. I do get paid in Credits, but even if everyone knows I’m spying for him, I still feel a little dirty about it all.

Above us, Ali sits cross-legged in his usual orange jumpsuit, holding a bowl of popcorn and staring at a System screen only he can see. I’d ask what my brown-skinned System Companion is watching, but it’s likely some cheesy reality TV show. The last time I checked, he was into house hunting and renovations, but I’m pretty sure he’s moved on by now. I’d be annoyed by his antics if I wasn’t so damn used to them. Actually, never mind. I am annoyed.

“Decently. Most are in their mid-30s now and they’ve gotten pretty serious about training. The displacement has made it a lot easier to find level-appropriate monsters.” I duck beneath a magpie that’s literally on fire. “This swarm might be a bit of a push, but they should be able to handle it.”

That also explains why I’m doing my best to kill, maim, and otherwise redirect as many of them as I can before they reach Whitehorse. The fewer of these monsters there are, the fewer the city will have to deal with and the easier they’ll have it. Especially since in monster swarms, the damn System reduces our experience gains while it’s happening, so no one is leveling up from this. On the other hand, the system-generated quests for safeguarding the city can compensate for the loss in experience—if I had been in town.

Ten months since the world changed under a series of blue System notification windows and we’ve lost nearly ninety percent of the human population and all our electronics. The earth had plunged back into the early 1900s, since delicate electronics don’t mix well with high levels of Mana—unless they’ve been specially constructed. I’d been caught up in the change while I was camping in Kluane National Park and, luckily, ended up with a few additional System-generated Perks due to my location.

Without electricity, without most of our machinery, and with monsters spawning all across the world, staying alive became a mad scramble for everyone. Unfortunately, keeping as many people as possible alive meant making some deals with people I shouldn’t have.

“What are you doing here anyway?” I say as I spin and chop the head off a monster, my soulbound sword appearing in my hand. One of the nice things about my Class was I got to bind a weapon to me. It levels as I level, giving it greater strength and sharpness. It also appears and disappears on command, which can lead to some really interesting fighting techniques.

“I’m out of those Belgium chocolates.”

Bullshit. Considering I buy my chocolates from the Shop, he could get some just as easily as I do. Which is trivial, so long you have enough Credits. Heck, you can buy anything in the Shop—and I do mean anything. Secrets, Classes, Skills, equipment, and more. I’ve even heard that there are sections in the Shop that include sentient contracts. Serfdom, if not slavery.

“Bullshit.”

“Again, I am not Yerick,” Labashi says, referring to the minotaurs that have taken up residence in the city. “And your other visitors?

“Xev and Sally?” I play dumb, not that I expect it’ll work. Xev’s a giant arachnid that makes grown men cry, and Sally’s a tiny cheerful gnome with a very sharp tongue. Both Galactics are well known to Labashi and his employer.

“No. The Kapre.”

“Oh. Them.” I sigh.

The Kapre are recent immigrants, another race of disenfranchised aliens who have been ground under the System’s heel. Unlike the Yerick, they never had a whole planet of their own—they were one of four races on their home planet. When their planet integrated into the System, they spread across the Galactic core in a desperate race to remain relevant and level up. All of the Kapre are tall—like, a good seven feet tall—with elongated faces and brown bark-like skin. Weirdly enough, they all have beards and are, at least to human eyes, male. All of them.

“They’re doing well. I think. Hard to tell. They’ve taken over the hills along Long Lake behind Riverdale and don’t mix much with us. Humans aren’t excluded from going in, but we’re not exactly welcome either.”

“Us?”

“The city.”

“So you have become an us,” Labashi muses, absently holding a tiger-like monster by its face as it attempts to claw him. Razor-sharp claws just bounce off his armor, which is impressive, considering most armor takes damage from attacks like that. I have a feeling a Skill of some type is being applied to increase the armor’s strength and durability. Might be something for me to look into.

“Yeah.” I flick my blade wide, calling forth a Skill of my own and sending a wave of power flowing forward in its wake, cutting through monsters and throwing the tougher ones aside. Blade Strike, my anime-inspired—or really, the other way around if I understand how this works—System-generated Skill.

“Interesting. Well, I believe this is all that we needed,” Labashi says then raises his hand. Light plays along it for a moment, then he calls down the sky.

Lightning flashes from clear skies to destroy the swarm. My helmet automatically flickers, compensating for the overload of light, and by the time I’ve stopped flinching, the Hakarta are already walking away.

“Oy! Boy-o, they’re still coming,” Ali shouts, and I bring myself back to the present.

The monsters that were present are dead, giving the Hakarta more than enough time to wander away without harassment, but more are coming and I know what I need to do. I call my sword back into my hand and I wait, smiling at the monsters as they come. Time to get back to work.

Two hours later, the swarm is finally gone and I sigh, triggering the mental command that retracts my helmet into a black ring around my neck. The cold air is bracing and pleasant as I lean against the wooden wall of my fort. Well, not mine, since the Council has finally taken it over. Funny thing—once the General Council in the city was ratified by Lord Roxley, the people they sent out to take control of the fort made it part of the city. I didn’t even know you could do that—and neither did they. The Council also made it clear to me that they would like me to not take the structure back, which is more than fair enough. I don’t really have the resources to make the fort all it can be, all it will need to be.

It takes a single mental command and Sabre comes apart, switching back to bike mode. I step away from it, staring at the clear winter skies before taking a deep breath of the crisp air. It is -20 Celsius—cold enough that I should feel it. However, I don’t and I won’t. Just another damn gift from the System. That and the ability to kill and kill and kill without thought or hesitation or regret.

I lean back, watching the sky and glancing occasionally at Ali as he loots the bodies for me, pulling System-generated loot then dumping the corpses into my pocket dimension. I lean back and try to figure out when I stopped feeling anything for the monsters I killed. My hands move, pulling forth a chocolate and popping it into my mouth. I barely even taste it as I stare into the sky, body and soul numb. Silence descends over the fort. It’s a brief moment of peace that I know won’t be here long, because with Labashi’s appearance, matters are definitely coming to a head.

Chapter 2

“Your boss in?” I ask Vir, the lieutenant of the guard who glares at me as I stare around the blue, utilitarian waiting room just before Roxley’s office.

The black-skinned, white-haired Tuinnar in his silver-and-white guard uniform glares at me and I wonder what has him playing receptionist. Or did I just catch him while he was coming out? It’s possible that Vir was just finishing up his report over the swarm.

“Lord Roxley is busy. You may tell me what you wish to tell him,” Vir answers coldly. I get the feeling he’s not a big fan of mine, especially not since learning about my involvement with the Hakarta.

“Well, I could. But then I’d have to go into exhaustive detail about the tongue hockey we did,” I say, grinning.

Vir stares at me before his face goes even flatter than normal. “Adventurer Lee, do you actually have anything relevant to say?”

“Fee fii foo fum…” I stop, shaking my head. “Sorry. I’m feeling a bit silly right now. Might be the swarm I was fighting in in the outskirts of town. Or the talk I had with Labashi.”

“You spoke with Major Rukar?” Vir says, interest piquing his voice despite his best efforts. “Directly, I assume?”

“Face to snout.” I nod. “Wanna see?”

“I…” Vir tilts his head for a second before he steps sideways, gesturing to the blank wall that hides the door to Roxley’s office. “Lord Roxley will see us now.”

“Figures,” Ali mutters, flying alongside us as we enter Lord Graxan Roxley’s, current holder of the Key to Whitehorse and Baron of the Seven Seas, office.

Virtual reality software, floating blue screens from the System, and the ability to share information directly means his office mostly consists of a series of really comfortable chairs and a single black marble desk. The man—dark elf/Tuinnar—stands there relaxed, smiling with the left side of his face slightly higher than the right in that endearing way that he has, all muscley and good-looking and…

Mental Influence Resisted

Right. I push my hormones down and my lustful thoughts aside as the System reminds me of Roxley’s affect. I’d be annoyed, but he doesn’t even do it on purpose. He just has a series of Skills, Stats, and modifications that makes everyone more susceptible to his charms. Lucky for me, my Class comes with extremely high level resistances, so I’m pretty safe from the direct affects. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to jump his bones, but that’s more personal.

I think.

“John,” Roxley says, and his voice is like dark chocolate rubbing over my skin.

“Wakey wakey. Stop drooling. Lord Roxley. Perhaps you’d care to see this?” Ali slides in while I get myself under control as he projects a video of our meeting in a series of blue windows.

“Thank you,” Roxley says.

Vir steps closer, both of them falling silent as they listen to the edited video.

“You edited this?” Vir says, looking at Ali.

“Yup. Left the relevant points in. No point watching John get his ass kicked.”

“I would like the unedited videos for my files,” Vir states.

“And I’d like a Nymph,” Ali answers.

I glare at Ali and the Spirt snorts, waggling a finger, which I assume is him sending it on. After that, the pair stays silent till the video finishes.

“So it begins,” Roxley finally says, exhaling slightly as he turns to me.

“Do you think it’s time for you to explain what it is?” I answer.

Vir and Lord Roxley exchange a look before Roxley speaks. “You know most of it. Duchess Kangana owns much of the land north and to the west of us, the area that you once called Alaska. It is our belief that she intended to purchase Whitehorse as well, creating a monopoly in this region. We do not believe she has given up on those plans as yet.”

“But why? That’s the bit I don’t get.”

“High-level zones in a Dungeon World are extremely lucrative if well-managed. In your parlance, they’re a high-risk, high-reward location. High-level monsters have more mana-dense bodies and loot, which allows the creation of more durable, powerful, and expensive equipment. Control over a single staging area is extremely valuable, and wars have been fought in established Dungeon Worlds for such locations.”

Well, that explained the why. Especially if she could get a monopoly and build out. It also explained why the Duchess decided to go for the larger cities rather than our tiny town. On the other hand…

“Why hasn’t she or someone else come yet? If it’s so valuable.”

“Why did your big companies not go into smaller developing countries?” Roxley asked rhetorically. After a moment, as he saw the blank look in my eyes, he added, “Too much risk during the initial development stage, for too little gain. While the returns can be high, until the flow of loot and resources have increased, the risk of losing one’s capital entirely is too great. Most of the major players are already dedicated to other, more established regions. When the Dungeon World is established, when the flow of loot has increased sufficiently, then the largest groups step in.”

“What’s her play?” I ask as I digest the tacit admission that Roxley is considered a small fish in the Galactic pond.

“Unknown. She has the military resources to crush us, but that reduces the value of the city. It would be more optimal for her to win this without fighting, but we have no word on her plans as yet. However, I do not believe she will hold off much longer.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re right about that.” I exhale, glancing between the two before I ask the next question, the one I’ve dreaded. “What can I do?”

Roxley and Vir share a look before Roxley replies. “As yet, nothing. We will inform you once your aid is required.”

I have a feeling they aren’t being entirely truthful with me. My actions have put me on the outside once again. I stare between the pair one last moment before nodding and turning away. Fine. I’ll just do my own thing then.

I stare at Aiden as he crouches, drawing on the ground with a wand that bites into the asphalt, his signature manbun swaying as he works. I have to grunt in annoyance even as I watch the mage work. I’d looked the hipster up for another lesson and instead got dragged into some civic duty. I’ll admit, I am learning a little about enchanting and Mana manipulation, but this really was not what I was hoping to learn. A new healing spell, maybe a combat one. Not how to enchant roads with an ongoing heating spell to keep the snow off.

“Battery.”

I hand to him the Mana battery, which consists of a tiny Mana crystal and battery interfaces. Aiden grasps the intricately crafted battery, and I watch as he inserts it into the ground and closes off the enchantment. The moment he’s done, Aiden moves smoothly to the side to give me space to work. I bend down and Mana flows from my hand, from the center of my body. I make sure to take the time to really feel it, to sense the changes in my body and the enchantment, the way the runes light up as Mana travels through them, focused through both the script and the intention behind the script. I sense my Mana drop precipitously as I charge the entire spell in one go and top-up the battery at the same time. Tapping into my skill of Mana Manipulation, watching the shift and flow of the blue energy through my body and in the environment, I do my best to take some learning from all this.

That’s the thing about enchantments and magic in this crazy world—it’s all about perception. Elemental Affinities like the one Ali shares with me actually require work. With those, you need to actually understand why and how you’re going to make the changes you want. Mana, on the other hand, is the paint-by-numbers version of the Elemental Affinities, and the System is the art teacher holding your hand.

Once the battery is finally full, I catch up with Aiden, who is already working on the ground twenty meters away. Behind me, the snow’s melting as the runes warm the earth. The battery and charge I’ve provided will last a good week or so, but with so many people running around, it’ll be a simple thing for others to top it up as they go along their day. Or so we hope.

“How much have we gotten done?” I ask.

“We’ve mostly completed the Downtown core. Still need to stretch it out to the industrial district, but getting the main roads into Riverdale sorted was high on the list.”

“That seems fast. You’ve been at this for what? Two weeks?”

“Two and a half. Once the others got trained up, we picked up speed quite a bit,” Aiden answers, brow furrowed. “Biggest problem is getting the initial charge. Not that many people have enough Mana to do that.”

“The hunters should.”

“Har. Half of them are physical specced; the other half are mixed in between. Only a small number are actual Mages. Even those who have enough Mana don’t have the recharge rates we need, so we end up waiting a lot,” Aiden answers. “And don’t forget, we still have to keep clearing the Dungeons and Bosses around the city. The Yerick might be bearing the brunt of that, but our hunters are almost always busy. Hard to justify clearing roads when the swarms keep coming.”

I nod slightly, reminding myself that most Basic classes add three, maybe four attributes at most per level and only by a point, maybe two. The Erethran Honor Guard Class I have is both rare and an Advanced Class, which means I get a huge boost each time I level. Of course, I also level about twice as slowly as everyone else, which is why everyone around me looks as if they’ve got higher Levels than I do.

“How’s the dungeon clearing for you guys?” Aiden asks as he stands, conjuring a flame between his fingers to warm them.

“About the usual. We could use a mage,” I reply, smiling slightly. “We’re a bit too smashy for my liking.”

“Not happening. And Lana? How’s she doing?”

“She’s going through the motions,” Ali sings from his spot above us.

“Why is there music?” Aiden says, looking around as he tries to spot the speakers.

“You can hear it too?” I glare at Ali. I’ve heard it a few times recently, but I figured it was something Ali was doing to mess with me. When the System first came into play, I gave him full access to my settings, the backend of all this. I’ve since come to realize my experience with the System has been somewhat different from others because of that.

“Like it?” Ali flashes a wide grin. “It’s a new ability.”

“You got the ability to play atmospheric music?” I say, disbelief in my voice. “How? Why? When? We haven’t leveled in weeks.”

“What? A Spirit can’t take his time choosing?” Ali points at his clothing. “I got a few different changes of clothing too.”

I look. And then I’m not entirely sure I’m seeing it right. “Are those shoulder pads? And a purple suit?”

“Yup,” Ali says proudly.

Aiden stops even trying to hide his amusement, laughing his ass off, and I close my eyes, breathing deeply. It’s when I’m calmer that I realize maybe having this conversation in front of Aiden wasn’t the best idea—most Companions are purchased or gained at a specific Level. They don’t improve, not without spending more money at the Shop. Ali, on the other hand, is a Linked Companion, which means he does Level at pretty much the same rate I do. I grimace at the thought and finally just shrug. Ah hell, not much I can do about it now.

“So Lana still not doing well?” Aiden says after he recovers from his bout of laughter.

“No. Not really.” I open my mouth to say more, then shut it. I’m not sure it’s my place to explain what I’m thinking, what I fear. “But she’s functioning.”

“Well, tell her we’ve missed her presence on the Council,” Aiden says then gestures to the enchantment. “Your turn.”

“Of course it is.” I bend down.

A trio of beautiful women come walking down the street, flanked by an equal number of huskies the size of ponies and a fiery fox the size of a large dog whose very presence melts the snow around it. Call me crazy, but I know trouble when I see it. That two of the three are members of my usual hunting party lends credence to my thoughts. Lana, on the left, is a buxom redhead whose pets flank the group and whose once-smiling demeanor is now shadowed with loss. Mikito walks in the center, which emphasizes how short the Japanese woman is, her naginata held loosely in one hand. Amelia’s the odd one out. The ex-Constable is often too busy keeping the peace in town, as one of the few human members of the Guard.

“Ladies,” I greet them, glancing at Aiden as I add to him, “I’m nearly out of Mana.”

“Fair enough. We got more done than I expected anyway,” Aiden replies before smiling in greeting at the three.

“John. Aiden,” Mikito says. Unlike what you’d think, the Japanese brunette has one of those hard-to-place North American accents. Accents are one of those weird little idiosyncrasies of purchasing Skills from the System to cover gaps in your own skillset. In Labashi, a British accent. In Mikito, North American. “You done?”

“Done and done,” Ali answers, brushing his hands together. “And not a moment too soon.”

“Good,” Lana says. Like the others, she’s dressed in post-apocalyptic hunter chic—a one-piece armored jumpsuit. She’s switched up her usual colors; instead of the mixed brown and yellow that she used to wear, it’s all black. I have to admit, it’s hot in a 1960s Catwoman way. “We just received some information about a new Boss. One of the hunting groups ran into it. Level 48.”

I grunt, my mind already calling Sabre to me, courtesy of a neural link I got implanted via the Shop. Haven’t actually made great use of the link recently, but it does make certain things easier. Shadow growls quietly as the mecha rolls past it silently, the husky’s shadow shifting on its own accord to chase the bike as it comes to a stop at my side.

“You know, that’s just freaky,” Amelia says, pointing at Sabre. She’s dressed in a red that is reminiscent of her old uniform and has pistols slung low on her hips.

“Don’t be jealous.” I flash her a grin, walking over to the bike. “You coming?”

“No. I’m just here to grab Aiden. There’s another meeting,” Amelia replies, and Aiden groans slightly.

“Offer’s still open,” I say.

“You know how people say they’d rather get shot at than do another meeting? That’s not me. Take me away, m’lady,” Aiden says as he walks over to Amelia quickly.

Ali, to punctuate the last of Aiden’s words, plays a series of drum beats.

Amelia’s eyes widen. “Is that…?”

I sigh. “Don’t ask.”

“No one appreciates me,” laments Ali as Lana beckons Shadow for her and Howard for Mikito to ride.

The moment the pair are on, they take off, and I gun Sabre to follow.

Whitehorse has changed somewhat since the apocalypse. On the surface, Downtown Whitehorse is much the same as it was before, 1960s-era two-to-three-story storefronts mixed with some early 1920s pioneer buildings. All but the single, ten-story silver building that dominates the middle of Main Street where Lord Roxley rules over us all. On cursory inspection, it seems the same. But we didn’t use to have weapon stores, armor stores, or alchemists. Our clothing stores didn’t prominently display the level of protection they provide against monsters. And let’s just say that the sashimi from the Japanese restaurant is now non-traditional and much more gamey.

The people are the most surprising change. Not that the city was ever that crowded, but now, the few who are on the streets have an edge you didn’t see in North America. At least, not in the nice parts of most cities. They have a certain wariness, an awareness of their surroundings from constantly looking around for threats, and the all-too-casual weapon check as they go about their daily business. Constant danger and the need to kill has given everyone a hard edge and a penchant for violence as their first solution.

The drive up Two Mile Hill is fast, since most vehicles are still owned by the hunters, who are all out. Ahead of us are the walls that block off the city, gleaming metal with a pair of vehicle gates and gun towers. Those are the visible defenses—hidden force fields and mines are just some of the less obvious safety measures. As we reach the gates, humans bearing futuristic beam rifles and old-school melee weapons mingle with dark-skinned, white-haired, pointed-eared Tuinnar guards, watching for the next swarm.

Once we’re out of the gates, the puppies pick up speed. In a few minutes, they swerve off the road and I hit a switch, making the bike jump. Another mental command and the bike switches, wheels rotating, and suddenly I’m hovering as the anti-gravity engines kick in. They’re not actually anti-gravity engines, but once again, my physics and engineering knowledge failed me when Ali tried to explain it.

Bikes are fun, but they aren’t particularly practical when the snow’s sitting at least three feet deep. Driving with the anti-gravity engines is interesting, but I’ve gotten quite used to it. A few minutes later, my Mana’s back to full, which is good—fighting a Boss without Mana is never a good idea. We move fast, cutting through the trees and leaving the few monsters that try to stop our group bleeding and dead behind us. Anna, who is strapped to Howard in a sling, yawns through most of it, barely shifting unless she is forced to throw a bolt of fire.

Our first major problem comes in the form of a large, humanoid white-furred creature.

Alpha Yeti (Boss) Level 48

HP: 7730/7730

A furry paw comes up, and the next thing we know, we’re hit by a blizzard that whites out the entire area. The vision assistance in my helmet tells me what my body has already let me know—the temperature’s dropping like a rock, crossing -40

within seconds. With a thought, Sabre comes apart, armored pieces sliding across my body even as the helmet keeps shifting vision options, trying to find something that can cut through the blizzard. It ends up on a hazy, weird mixture of thermal imaging and visual magnification which lets me see that the Yeti’s gone.

Crouching low, I snarl and look around even as Lana and Mikito get off the huskies. Mikito’s flipping the naginata in swirling patterns around her the moment she gets clear, ensuring that anything that tries to sneak up on her gets caught in it. Lana’s crouched, hair streaming out behind her as she cranes her head, turning occasionally at a new noise. Her pets spread out, encircling her in a defensive formation.

It’s a futile effort. Ice spikes erupt from the ground without warning, catching Howard on his back foot and spearing Lana directly in her stomach. The spike erupts out of her back, lifting her into the air and leaving her impaled, her scream of pain setting the huskies howling.

“ALI. Where is he?” I scream, rage coloring my vision.

“Give me a second, this blizzard is messing with my sensors,” the Spirit thinks back over our mental link.

Even my own ability to sense the monster is drawing a blank. I spin, searching as I edge toward the struggling Lana, but there’s nothing but the howl of the wind and the creaking of ice. Damn it, I should have thrown the Soul Shield on her immediately.

Instinct throws me sideways moments before more ice spears erupt from the ground. Superhuman reflexes and a hell of a lot of combat hours gets me most of the way out, my armor absorbing the glancing impact. Rolling, I come to my feet in the flattened snow and catch sight of Lana falling, the ice spear hacked apart. A second later, she’s got Elsa, her pet turtle, out of its carry-on and pointed. Elsa begins to breathe fire. Anna, released from Howard, heats up too, breaking formation as she dashes near trees and lights them on fire by sheer proximity.

I catch all this and the tail end of Mikito being hit by a four-foot-wide snowball that picks her up and sends her rolling down the hill like Wil. E. Coyote with a bad plan. I’d laugh, and I’m sure I will when I view the recordings later, but I’m still looking for our attacker.

“Got you!” Ali snarls.

Suddenly, there’s a yellow outline to my left. I raise the Inlin, barrel already spitting high-explosive death and tearing up the earth in gouts of flame. Surprisingly, Lana turns too, and I wonder if Ali’s sharing data now. Either way, blood blooms as explosive rounds impact, throwing the monster back.

Even as it falls, the Yeti raises its hand and a wall of ice appears, blocking our view. The fox darts in a wide circle while Lana points Elsa at the wall, burning it down. I run forward and jump above the melting wall, but the damn Yeti’s gone.

“Boy-o, every time it gets colder, the Yeti drops from my sense.”

Fine. I raise my hands, pointing in two different directions, and call forth my Fireball spell. It’s pretty much everything that you’d expect it to be—a ball of flame that explodes after a pre-determined distance. The fire melts snow, burns up the trees, and sets the Yeti alight, highlighting the monster for all our eyes. The puppies rush the monster, and Lana, dropping Elsa to the side, opens up with a beam pistol.

By the time Mikito gets back from rolling down the hill, the Yeti’s down and in a number of unappetizing pieces. Even on fire, it managed to spike Howard and Anna, but with all of us ganging up on it, the Boss doesn’t stand a chance. Somehow, the idea of dragging the remains back to the butchering yard seems wrong—whatever else it was, it fought smart. It might even have been somewhat sentient—and eating a sentient creature just seems wrong. Lana loots the body without a word, hunched over slightly as she walks back to me. I eye her injury, note that it seems to have stopped leaking blood, and leave it alone. The pain is real, but the System helps our bodies heal at an accelerated rate, which makes injuries transitory. Even if the mental scarring that might occur from getting ripped apart repeatedly isn’t. That’s why tanks are all just a little insane.

“Whitehorse?” I inquire, looking around.

“Let’s hunt. We’re out this far. The monsters are a decent level out here,” Lana says immediately.

I swear, it’s like I’ve warped back in time and replaced Lana with Mikito. She has the same desire to be in the wilderness, killing and killing and killing.

“Okay,” Mikito agrees of course. She might be on a more even keel, but that’s not to say Mikito’s ever going to turn down a chance to exact a little payback for her dead husband.

“Fine. You want to lead the way?” I gesture for Lana. I’m outvoted after all, and frankly, I’m not that interested in arguing for not killing monsters when we can. I can always use the experience and Credits.

Hunting over the next few hours is interesting. The monsters haven’t really settled down after the swarm, and even if we’re quite a distance out, the mix and numbers are just weird for the newly created zone. Good news is that the low-level monsters avoid us and vice versa. That leaves a wide mixture of more level-appropriate monsters, from Level 30 to 40 bumming around, attempting to get themselves sorted.

Anyone who has gone hunting or hell, even taken a walk in the woods would be very clear on the idea that you just don’t stumble over animals every few meters. Well, unless it’s a bunch of squirrels. The coming of the System altered that in a few ways.

Firstly, it evolved most creatures, so even insects and ants can sometimes be the size of a dog. Add in the fact that some of the trees have become deadly monsters and you can see how the population of “nasty things that want to eat me” have increased in the wilderness.

Secondly, the increase in Mana has actually increased fertility rates and growth rates for most creatures. While it doesn’t seem to have changed the incubation period for human women, we’ve certainly seen a spike in pregnancies—including among women who swear they’re on the pill or have been using other contraceptive methods. I recall lipreading a particularly gruesome conversation about an IUD that the nurse could no longer find no matter how hard they tried. Whitehorse has seen a large number of pregnancies, many of which have resulted in births with very few complications. This effect seems even more pronounced with the animals and monsters that lurk outside the city.

Thirdly, when the System builds up too high a level of Mana in any one zone and can’t locate an appropriate monster to dump the excess Mana into, it does one of two things. It either creates a new dungeon or it will “spawn” a new monster. Technically, the System uses the Mana buildup to teleport new monsters from another location in the System, often another Dungeon World, to the affected zone. It’s how some of the weirdest monsters we have have made an appearance.

And as any good biologist will tell you, an invasive species that doesn’t have a natural predator will grow unchecked more often than not. So what would be explosive growth anyway becomes a tsunami of monsters.

Lastly, Bosses are often Alpha monsters and their presence adds to the growth rates and strength of any group they lead. More often than not, a couple of unchecked Bosses are what triggers a swarm and why they’re the hunting target of choice. Of course, there’s some futility in all that—killing the Bosses doesn’t reduce the flow of Mana. It just means that the System ends up having to pick another method to control the Mana flow.

In fully transitioned Dungeon Worlds, Mana flows are much more stable. Zones and the monsters that live in each zone rarely shift as the Mana-soaked ecosystem stabilizes among a few dominant species. Swarms do happen but are much rarer because Adventurers and the local populace are out much more frequently and are more level appropriate, dealing with the monster buildups before they become an issue.

I end up thinking about all of this as I watch Mikito, Lana, and the puppies do most of the damage. I step in occasionally, but other than keeping Thousand Steps—a shared movement skill of mine—active, I’m somewhat superfluous. Until we hit something in the Level 60s, this pair can more than handle themselves. Even using Thousand Steps is a waste, other than as a small chance for me to train in its use. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have to occasionally kill a few monsters myself, mind you. Stupid levels of aggression are another System addition that results in the increase in danger while we’re hunting.

As I bend to loot another body, tossing the System-generated loot directly into my inventory without looking at it, I can’t help but take a look at the pair’s Levels again, studying them in more detail. It’s the first time I’ve done it in a while, and I have to say I’m slightly surprised by how much information Ali can display now.

Mikito Sato (Samurai Level 42)

HP: 590/590

MP: 250/250

Conditions: Thousand Steps, Hasted

Lana Pearson (Beast Tamer Level 40)

HP: 280/280

MP: 560/560

Conditions: Thousand Steps, Bestial Senses, Linked x 4

“That’s new,” I mutter, staring at the information display before glancing at Ali.

“Like it?” The Spirit floats over, waving, and suddenly all but the Hit Points disappear. “Could keep it simpler too.”

“Mixture maybe? Remove everything but the hit points in a fight? And maybe Mana. Though how accurate is that?” I frown.

Ali raises his hand, waggling his hands sideways. “So-so. Depends on whether they’ve got any counter-measures in place. Anyone playing at the higher levels will have purchased at least a minimum obfuscation package. Can’t pierce those just yet, not at my level. Hit Points are a lot easier to gauge.”

“Right, Hit Points only then. The Conditions might be good, Resistances would be better,” I add.

“I could pull those from the party sheet, but not for opponents. Not yet anyways,” Ali answers, shrugging. “Though I’ve got wider access to general monster databases now, so I’ll be able to provide that information if it becomes important.”

“Come on, we should catch up,” I say, realizing the pair has waded deeper into the group of half-horse, half-mantis armor-plated creatures. I can barely see them as they get swarmed, the pets and Mikito fighting to keep Lana safe in the center. I hit the group with Polar Zone, slowing everyone—including my friends. Truth is, a Fireball would have been the better choice, but something about getting toasted alive makes people grumpy.

Whine, whine, whine.

My sword glows red, the attack enhanced for a second by my Skill Cleave. It slices apart the hand-sized monster with ease, dropping separate pieces to the ground. I stomp on them before they can begin wiggling toward each other. Too small finally to reform, the Frazak Beast dies. Already, the ladies and Ali are swooping around, scooping up System-generated loot. We leave the bodies. I’m not sure even the hungry would want to eat the slimy, ectoplasmic remains of the Frazak. Definitely not carrying them back in my Altered Space.

“Well, that was weird,” I sigh and shake my head.

I step aside as a root from a nearby tree humps to the slime before it drains it from the ground at an astounding rate. Following the root back to the ash tree it originated from, I make a note of it for future reference. Might be that Sally, our resident gnome Alchemist, would want to know about it.

I’m silently grateful for the visual aid my helmet gives me. It’s still not as good as bright daylight, but between the automatic motion detection software, light enhancement, and infrared layering, it’s more than good enough to stay out here after sunset. Which is a good thing, considering how little daylight we’re getting as the solstice approaches. That being said…

“How are you ladies seeing?” I ask.

“Beast Master enhancement,” Lana replies, and I nod. Like her enhanced sense of smell and hearing, Lana seems to be picking up certain traits from her connection with her pets as she levels. Wonder if she’ll ever gain the ability to fly. Or a tail?

“Gene Therapy,” Mikito adds as she flicks her armor plate into bare space, the plate disappearing into thin air. Of course, I know she’s just putting it into inventory, but it does seem like magic.

Sometimes, I wonder how much of us is still human. Certainly, the things we can do, the changes made to and on our bodies, has shifted us far from baseline human. Add things like gene therapy, cyberware, and other enhancements and you have to wonder, are we even human anymore? The way we all handle pain and injury is so different—these days, safety standards are significantly laxer. Who cares if you break a bone if it heals within a few minutes? Even chopped off limbs can be regrown or replaced.

With a thought, my status information forms in front of me and once more I survey the “new” me.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

34

Titles

Monster’s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1580

Stamina

1580

Mana

1220

Mana Regeneration

89 / minute

Attributes

Strength

88

Agility

149

Constitution

158

Perception

55

Intelligence

122

Willpower

124

Charisma

16

Luck

27

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

1

Blade Strike

2

Thousand Steps

1

Altered Space

2

Two are One

1

The Body’s Resolve

3

Greater Detection

1

Instantaneous Inventory*

1

Soul Shield

2

Blink Step

2

Cleave*

2

Frenzy*

1

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Tech Link*

2

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Since the Onlivik Spore Dungeon, I picked up a few new toys for my combat arsenal. In particular, I upgraded some of my attacks and spells. The first new, out-of-Class Skill I purchased was an upgrade to Cleave. The nice thing about the upgrade is that while it only increases my basic strikes by another 25%, the Mana cost has stayed the same. It isn’t all-powerful, but it’s certainly a useful upgrade.

Elemental Strike gives me another way of layering damage. As monsters go up in levels, their resistances to basic damage increases, which means layering damage types becomes more and more important. Fire might be more generically popular, but the damn collateral damage of unchecked flames has a tendency to make me leery of using it too often. There are weirder elemental options, like radiation or darkness, but for now, I’ll stick to the traditional elements.

Lastly, I picked up a support Skill from the basic Erethran Guard tree. I really should have gone poking into their specialized Skill set beforehand, just to see what I had been missing out on, but I’d been lost in the shiny of the numerous other Skills available. While most of their Skills aren’t much better than what’s available to other Classes—or in a few cases, worse—Tech Link is particularly interesting. For each level, I can designate a specific tech and enhance its performance and connection to me. No surprise, but I designated both my Neural Link and Sabre. The boost in performance and my connection to Sabre was impressive, and given enough time and Levels, it could be a major game changer. Sadly, the next Level up is pretty expensive in the Shop.

To round out my purchases and my usefulness, I now have a more powerful healing spell and a Mana regeneration buff, both of which I figure will be useful for longer fights. I could do with a combat spell or two more, but the good stuff is extremely expensive. Better to save up the Credits for something great rather than a couple of goods.

I’ve been holding back on adding to my Class Skills with my free Skill Points. I’m still uncertain of which route to go down, and if at all possible, I want to save enough points so that when the third tier of my Skill Tree unlocks at Level 40, I can pick up a bunch of those Skills at once. Portal and Army of One look amazing, while Sanctum might make a huge difference one of these days. A skill that basically blocks every type of attack for a set time limit seems rather overpowered. Then again, I have a Skill that teleports people. If you look at it that way, there must be a bunch of Skills that teleport attacks past barriers. Heck, would a line of sight spell just require me to see them to cast?

That’s one of the problems about the way we get abilities and Skills through the System. We learn them instinctively, the same way we grow up knowing how to make our hearts beat. A purchased Skill just is—something you can use but not necessarily improve. Most people are happy with that, but then you hit questions like mine, where a better understanding of a spell and what it does would probably answer my question.

That’s the thing about the System. While I won’t say there’s a Dungeon Master or something out there balancing the System, with the sheer number of people, Skills, and abilities out there, it’s impossible to say that any single Skill, piece of equipment, or Class is the trump card to beat all trump cards. At least, none that I’ve come across yet.

When the ladies break off, heading for another set of tracks Lana has spotted, I tag along. The System continues to puzzle and infuriate me. It works incredibly well as a seamless integration that constantly enhances our bodies and lives. However, once you’re in, you’re in. Surviving the System and the Dungeon World without its benefits is impossible. On top of that, Classes, Skills, spells, all of those fade away the farther you are from the System Core. At the edges of System-occupied space, you can only rely on your existing Mana pools.

It’s why we never had various aliens visit us before our introduction to the System—no one wants to go from Superman to Clark Kent. Well, except for bad writers who have run out of stories to tell. If the System is Apple—industry leader but a closed ecosystem—then you’ve got to wonder about the Windows and Linux options out there and how to access them. Certainly, accessing methods of gaining power outside of the System would be heavily discouraged—if not potentially lethal.

As much as I have learnt about the System, I still have more questions. Each answer just generates more questions. I don’t have even the beginning of an explanation of why the System can so casually break the laws of physics and common sense. Nor do I know why the System was coded to create Dungeon Worlds on populated planets or why it automatically conscripts everyone. Sure, more people equals more loot which means more Credits and gear, but Credits seem like such a prosaic reason. At least when you’re talking about something that affects entire galaxies. Power and control make more sense, but it doesn’t explain the abilities and Classes that allow anyone to level. If you want to control the populace, you don’t hand out plutonium and a nuclear bomb DIY kit. It’s a puzzle and one that I’ve even got a Quest for.

The System Quest

You’ve begun to grasp the very edges of the meaning of the System. However, there is much more to learn with an uncertain reward at the end. Will you continue the journey?

The fact that hundreds of thousands of people have tried to complete the System Quest and failed is rather discouraging. The System Quest is also known as the Fool’s Quest among the Galactics. Hundreds, maybe even millions, of scholars, adventurers, and explorers have tried and failed over the years. Ali himself got exasperated with me when I started poking into it. Yet something in my gut tells me that the System Quest is the key to it all and that the more I understand the System, the more I’ll understand this insane world I live in.

Problem is, none of these musings are actually relevant to my day-to-day life. My current problem is the Duchess and whatever else she has planned for the city. I have to admit it grates on my nerves that my help was dismissed so casually, but in this, I have to trust Roxley. Unfortunately, it’s hard to do so when the man’s just too damn good-looking.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Lana says as she taps her foot and I realize I’ve been lagging again.

“Just thinking about Roxley,” I reply without thought. For a moment, I see a tightening in her eyes before she smiles.

“Enjoying the fact that your boyfriend’s back?” Lana says.

“Not my boyfriend. And no, not that. I’m wondering about the Duchess and Roxley and what’s the plan,” I say.

“Does it matter? They’re all the same,” Lana replies, her voice suddenly bitter. “We’re just pawns to them. Toys to play with and, when we’re broken, to be thrown away.”

“Lana…” I fall silent. I’m not even sure where to start. Truthfully, I sometimes have my doubts about the Tuinnar but… “Roxley’s better than most of the other options.”

She grunts, clearly irritated by my words, and looks away.

Mikito looks between us for a second before she spins her naginata to lop off a reaching vine. “It’s late. We should consider resting. Carcross is closer.”

I grunt, glancing at the minimap in the corner of my eyes. We’re actually not much closer to Carcross than Whitehorse. Carcross has the distinction of being the last existing human settlement outside of Whitehorse in the Yukon, even if it is barely more than a couple dozen buildings and a couple hundred people. Still, the town has well-defended walls and friends we haven’t seen in a while. If that’s the reason why Mikito wants us to go, I’m not complaining.

“Whatever,” Lana says dismissively. “Let’s just get this over with. There’s probably some decent hunting on the way there.”

“Just follow me, toots, I got this,” Ali says, waving us forward.

Well, I guess we’re headed to Carcross.

Chapter 3

It’s been nearly a month and a half since I’ve visited Carcross. I’ll admit, I’ve been concerned about Lana’s state of mind. Then of course, Roxley came back, and after that, the Kapre arrived and I decided to keep an eye on them, just in case. Trust but verify, you know. And well, time flies when your time is spent fighting and killing and training.

It’s no excuse, not really. I have friends here, survivors who have lost friends and family to the System and fought by my side through the worst of it. Then again, who hasn’t lost someone? I might not have seen my family’s bodies, but I checked with the Shop. It took me a long time to get the courage to do so, and sometimes, I wish I didn’t. The faint hope was comforting, like a child’s baby blanket. Having it ripped away made me want to scream and cry. Luckily, I channeled the grief into a more mature, considered response and went on a forty-eight-hour genocidal rampage outside of town with Lana and Mikito.

The party ends up coming toward the city at an angle and we have to skirt around the wall until we hit the gates. We could easily jump the fifteen-foot concrete barrier—the bigger problem is the automated defenses and the force field surrounding the town. As we traverse the edge of the wall in their clear zone, I can’t help but note the slightly scrunched up faces that peer down at us, most of them sporting a beard. Dwarves. Funnily enough, they’re pretty much everything you’d expect them to be—outside of the smithing thing. As I understand it, this is a small Clan who’s fallen on hard times, so their presence here is as much a matter of colonizing as guarding. Either way, their presence adds a seasoned, professional force to the civilian guards within Carcross. It was something they desperately needed when the swarms increased in intensity.

Surprisingly, the gates are open and we’re not the only ones arriving. A group of five, carrying an assortment of swords, guns, and bows, walk in ahead of us, towing a sled piled with corpses. None of the five look human, though three could pass if you squinted and ignored skin color, additional appendages, and frill. One looks very much like a traditional Klingon with a weird frill on its face and arms so thick around, you’d need a pair of hands to grasp them. A second is short at four and a half feet but makes up for its size with its additional four arms located in the center of its bulbous body. An extra pair of eyes stare at us from its torso, while the last humanoid creature is bright blue with scales all across its body. Mostly though, I’m staring at the spherical creature that totters above them on too-thin legs, four eyes rolling along tracks across its body. The humanoid velociraptor barely gets a glance after that.

The Dwarves on duty wave the Galactics in as a matter of routine before they turn back to their own conversations. They speak in a language that I don’t understand until Ali does his thing and the gibberish becomes English. In this case, they’re mostly discussing how pretty Mikito is, if a touch too tall for a proper Dwarf spouse.

“Oy. Stop staring like yokels,” Ali calls out to our group, and we start, realizing we’ve all come to a standstill in front of the gates.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see some of the Dwarves laughing at us. I growl slightly, and Mikito places a hand on my arm, shaking her head.

Right. Friendly territory. No starting fights.

“What the hell is going on?” I mutter as I gun the bike, drifting inward.

One of the Dwarves moves to cut me off and I shoot him a look that has him reaching for his weapon. Good sense prevails as one of the other Dwarves waves down the overeager bunny.

Inside, the town has grown. What used to be only a dozen or so buildings has sprawled with the addition of a baker’s dozen of new buildings, each of them at least four stories tall. Residences and stores seem to make up the most of them, with the new construction having that weird silvery sheen of default System-created construction. Right next to the city center, a large six-story building dwarfs the old log buildings. It’s this large building that the Galactics approach and enter with their kills.

As much as the layout of the city has changed, what’s more surprising is the mixture of individuals tramping around the town. While humans still dominate, clumps of aliens are easy to spot, none of them seeming to elicit even a nasty look from the locals. Considering one of them looks like a typical horned devil with tail, that’s pretty impressive.

“Huh. An official Guild house,” Ali says as the puppies come up next to me. I look at him, and he points at the big building the group went into. “Carcross managed to seal a deal with the Rolling Sea Guild. That’s where most of these Galactics are from.”

“You know that you’re just saying words right now, right?” I mutter, shaking my head. “Context, man.”

“Right, right. Ignorant human.” Ali rotates himself upside down while he continues to talk. “Guilds are like, well, guilds. Corporations, I guess, in your parlance. Just, you know, more individual? Anyway, powerful Guilds can rival countries in size and members. The Rolling Sea Guild is a Tier IV Adventuring Guild with about two thousand members and an average level of 36.7.”

All three of us stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

The annoying, shoulder-pad-dressed brown Spirit draws the silence out until I’m almost about to shout at him. “Adventuring Guilds are always looking for unexploited, unclaimed leveling zones. Finding one and getting the right to set up a guild hall here gives them a huge advantage.”

“Halls are limited?” Lana asks immediately, and Ali nods.

“Yup, by size and ranking of the safe zone. It’s why Carcross has one and Whitehorse doesn’t.”

I grunt, nodding slowly. Our lack of a safe zone arises from the fact that we’ve yet to exit Village stage, which is due to us not hitting the minimum threshold required to stabilize the Mana flows in Whitehorse. Carcross, being an initially smaller town, had fewer buildings to purchase, which gave them a significant advantage over Whitehorse.

“Adventuring Guilds build guild halls. Got it. What do they do?” I ask.

“A variety of things. Reduced teleportation costs for guild members between guild halls, access to guild storage, training halls for increased experience gain, and safe areas for rest are the main things. Guilds sometimes also have contracts with smaller Shops, which set up physical stores in their halls, letting them bypass the System Shop,” Ali answers.

“Let me get this straight. Carcross made a deal with this guild to use their only?” At Ali’s nod, I continue with more confidence. “Only guild hall space for them. They provide additional defense and, of course, killing of monsters. That sound about right?”

“Pretty much, boy-o.”

“That just sounds like they’ve painted a target on their back,” I mutter.

“Just about,’ Ali confirms.

Mikito looks puzzled and Lana’s face is blank, so I fill them in. I guess they don’t have as much experience with Galactic politics as I do. “The other guilds aren’t going to like it because it means the Rollers will get more powerful if they aren’t kept in check. That means they’ll likely take steps to hurt both Carcross and the Rollers. Ali, they must have known that was going to happen.”

“Of course. Best guess? They’re gambling. Just like Roxley. If they can hang on long enough to power up their people and the city, they’ll be able to get to the next tier and upgrade themselves again. If they can keep upgrading, everyone who might want a place this small will be left in the dust. And the bigger fish will be angling for Whitehorse rather than Carcross.”

“And if they fail?” Lana asks, her brows drawn together.

“Then they might die. At the very least, they’ll lose a lot of prestige and Credits.”

“I meant the city.”

“Same thing.” Ali shrugs disinterestedly.

“Dangerous,” I say, and Mikito nods. Still, I can see why the Carcross City Council did it. They couldn’t hold the town, not with the few hunters they have left. Even with the Dwarven clan, the number of swarms must have been pressuring them significantly. And if you’re refusing to leave, then better to act—however bad it might be in the future—than sit around doing nothing.

Still, the guild presence here explains why the monster numbers around the city were lower than we expected. It also explains why I haven’t been getting subtle suggestions from Jason or the Elder to come visit. The Carcross City Council might not even want us here—I’m not entirely sure Roxley will be happy with this development. That being said, the Tuinnar might already know about this.

“Well, are we going to say hi or not?” Lana finally says, pointing forward.

I open my mouth then shut it with a snap. She’s right. We’re here, so we might as well say hi and get something to drink. Whatever decisions they’ve made, it’s done and over with. Time to see some old friends.

“Jason. Rachel,” I greet the pair when we finally track them down.

Surprisingly, they’re in a rather spacious condo on the top floor of one of the new buildings. Inside, floor-to-ceiling windows give us a nearly complete view of the walls. A good thing too, considering Jason is the town’s most powerful Mage and Rachel’s only a short hop behind him. The wiry teenager is grinning with an arm around his First Nation girlfriend as he waits for us to troop in and take off our shoes.

Surprisingly—and thankfully—when we poked our heads into the City Center, Elder Badger was out, resting. It wasn’t uncommon to find her working late into the evenings before, so it’s obvious that the new additions to the city seem to have taken some of the burden off her. Even with our boosted Constitutions, most of us needed at least a few hours of sleep a day to reset our brains and not completely crash.

Not finding the Elder meant that our next stop was locating Jason and Rachel. Being the local celebrity he is, that wasn’t difficult.

From the way Jason is holding his robe closed, I’m assuming we interrupted some naughty time. Either that or he likes to sleep in his boxers. Idly, I check him out. He’s filled out even more, leaving behind the scrawny teenager I once knew. He’s no gym rat, but he doesn’t look as though he’d get blown away by a stiff wind either.

Rachel, on the other hand, looks, well, older. The sixteen-year-old teenage girl has matured, her face slightly chubbier with new bags under her eyes. There’s no bounce in her step, and there are new lines on her face as she clings to Jason’s arm. The scars from losing first her village then most of her team seem to linger, and the once-tough teen seems more fragile, more prone to shatter.

“You do know it’s, like, eleven, right?” Jason grumbles good-naturedly as he plops himself into a chair, Rachel curling up in his arms immediately.

“Yeah, yeah. We can leave if you want.” I turn, and he flicks a glowing blue ball at my head that shocks me ever so slightly.

“What John is trying to say is it’s good to see you too.” Lana sits next to the pair on the spare space on the couch. “How are you two doing?’

“Not bad. Things have been pretty good actually, ever since the Guild came. You saw, right?” Jason waves in the general direction of the city.

“Hard to miss,” Ali says.

“How is that going?” I ask.

“Mike’s been grumbling a bit, but they’ve been a real help, you know?” Jason answers.

I nod slightly. I’m sure Gadsby’s grumbling is the same as Andrea’s. Both the ex-RCMP members have a long list of complaints about civilians wandering around with the ability to destroy houses in their fingers. I know the pair spend long hours talking about ways to reconcile Canadian and Galactic laws. Personally, I think they’re wasting a lot of effort, but no one’s asking me.

As Jason and I chat, Lana murmurs something to Rachel, who shakes her head.

“Right. Girl talk time. You boys get out,” Lana abruptly announces, pointing at us.

“Huh?”

“Out,” Lana repeats.

Jason lets out a sigh, pulling his hand away from Rachel, who squeezes it for a second before finally releasing him, and beckons me to follow. A short jaunt later, we’re out of the walls and wandering the night-time woods, idly patrolling for potential monsters. Jason calls up a series of bright yellow-green lights that hover around him and attack threats without warning as we walk. One thing Carcross still doesn’t have is a bar—the Elder’s insistence of keeping the place “dry” seems to hold, even with the new Guild in place. Understandable, even if annoying.

I finally break the silence as the smell of roasting owl assaults my nose. “What was that about?”

“Ah. Well. That. I’m going to be a father,” Jason says. “Thought we had that covered—literally—but…”

“Yeah, we worked that one out from Richard’s…” Exploits. I never finish the sentence though, the memory of the friend we’ve lost darkening the conversation.

“Seems self-defeating. The Shop sells alterations that let you neuter yourself, but it constantly breaks down. I’ve even heard of some women, older women, umm…” Jason stutters, blushing.

“Older women…? Having sex?” I tease. “You know, older people are humans too.”

He glares at me even as the redness in his face grows. “Menstrual cycle reversing.”

“You mean meno-pause becoming meno-start?” Ali says, cackling.

I glare at the Spirit. “Don’t make me banish you.”

“Yeah, that.” Jason brushes at his face, pushing up non-existent glasses. He tilts his head and waves, refreshing his attack spell in a casual display of power.

“Cute spell. They look like guided Mana Bolts sort of.”

Jason nods. “Tinkered with the formula a bit.” As a bolt slams into a nearby tree and then another and then another, he sighs and recasts the spell. “Of course, it’s still a work in progress.”

“Uh huh. Think the tree’s dead.”

In the back of my mind, I’m thinking about what he said about the Shop. The way it keeps regenerating people, fixing them, even reversing old biology. As if it’s attempting to increase our population whether we want it to or not. Almost like a self-replicating virus, continuously infecting host computers every time it can, searching for flaws in the operating system and copying itself into new storage devices. Except in this case, it’s attempting to create the computers it needs to use.

System Quest Update (+500 XP)

The System continually replicates itself, creating new host bodies. Why would it do that?

Really? A quest update over that? I shake my head, dismissing the notification as I glance at Ali, who is busy bopping the Mana Darts with his finger. Now why the hell would I get that?

“Congratulations, by the way,” I add belatedly.

“Thanks,” Jason answers, his face growing serious.

Right, he’s still a kid himself, and being a dad this young can’t be easy. For a moment, I wonder what education will be like in this world. After all, purchasing skills for things like basic mathematics, science, and other social sciences isn’t that expensive in the System. Why bother with formal schooling? Would schools in the future involve combat and Skill applications rather than classes on physics and English? Or would we continue with the old traditions since then we’d at least know they understood the basics. Really understood them.

“So tell me about the spell. Maybe I can learn something,” I ask.

Jason brightens up as he explains what he did. Distractions. Always useful.

A couple of hours and circuits around the town to the river and back later, a pair of cloaked figures fade into sight in front of us. It’s slow and gentle enough that it doesn’t trigger an automatic attack from Jason’s spell or myself. The first of the newcomers is a semi-transparent humanoid that floats, clad in tight leather that leaves little to the imagination. I find myself staring at its groin, the pair of cylinders that jut out fascinating in a disturbing way. Looking away from him (it?), its humanoid friend has four arms, its skin a yellow-green metallic sheen. Instead of a head, it has a variety of tubular connections with shining lights.

Eilon Lindrak (Level 7 Eldritch Knight)

HP: 1530/1530

MP: 320/320

Conditions: Insubstantial

Ixlimin Ldrik (Level 49 Mecaniservant)

HP: 570/570

MP: 740/740

Conditions: None

“You are not on the patrol schedule today, Jason,” Ixlimin speaks. His voice sounds canned and just a little too high, the noise setting my teeth on edge.

“Boy-o, the Knight’s an Advanced Class, by the way,” Ali mutters.

I blink, staring at the pair. Jesus, it’d be nice if there was a way to tell a bit easier. Then again, Squire, Knight… I guess that works.

“Just out for a walk with a friend,” Jason replies, his body angled slightly away from them.

“Who is your friend?” Ixlimin says, and again, I feel my body tensing. It’s the kind of voice you’d hear if you watched a bad 80s science-fiction movie filled with evil AIs and robots.

“Don’t say it. The walking blender already knows,” Ali says, glaring at Ixlimin.

“A Spirit Companion. How novel,” Ixlimin says, staring at Ali.

Ali glares back, his eyes narrowing, and an uncomfortable silence falls as the pair stare at each other.

“So…” I add a smile. “I’m John Lee.”

Thank the gods the language purchases include body language so they know what I mean when I smile. Otherwise, who knows—I might be challenging them to an eating contest.

“You are from Whitehorse,” Eilon states, and I nod. “Has the city achieved its next rank yet?”

“No.” As far as I know, the only thing holding us back is the lack of purchased spaces. We’re actually pretty close now, and once that’s done, I’m sure we’ll rank up. After all, Carcross did.

“Aaargh!” Ali shouts, glaring at Ixlimin, and I reach sideways. Jason shoots a look between us, his hand curling up slightly while Ixlimin stands there smiling. “You damn blender!”

“What’s going on, Ali?” I ask tensely. I really don’t want to try fighting these two. No guarantee that Jason will back me up and together, they might be really pushing things for me.

“Freaking blender’s a M453-X. They’re sort of like the Spores—shared central consciousness through data uploads. I was trying to figure out if the computer here had a connection. He blocked me. And stole some information about you,” Ali said tensely.

“Stole?” I growl softly.

“An exaggeration of facts. Your Spirit is lax and dropped his defenses while he assaulted my data sectors. Certain information leaked,” Ixlimin says. “My system, I am programmed to acquire information. Any information.”

“So you grabbed what you found?”

“Yes.”

“And now you’ve uploaded it to this shared database?”

“No,” Ixlimin says, his voice still flat and toneless. “I have yet to earn the necessary uploading privileges. Direct upload is reserved for those Rank III and above.”

“You guys rank yourself?” I tilt my head, curious about the robot. Android? Cyborg? I’m not entirely sure. I’ll have to clarify with Ali later.

“The Program has grown such that individuals must be ranked. It is the only logical option to ensure the optimal in-flow of information. My reports are still provided on a regular basis, but it has been determined that those below Rank III have insufficiently important information to require the burden on resources a direct connection would accrue,” Ixlimin replies.

“Thanks. You’re being quite helpful here,” I say, glancing at Ali, who still seethes with a rather constipated expression on his face. “You’re being quiet.”

“Updating my firewalls. Bastard cut through my base ones like butter,” Ali thinks back at me. “Don’t trust him. The Ixlimin are like your Borg. Or maybe Mormons might be a better fit. Unrelenting in their goal of expanding the Program. If it weren’t for the System’s interference in their Program, they’d probably be running around in giant cubes.”

“It has been decided that providing clear, concise information about the Program when asked is the most efficient method of removing concerns about our goals,” Ixlimin says.

“And that’s when I say enough,” Eilon adds, holding up a hand. “If I let him, Ixlimin will talk your ear off about the Program and we’re still on patrol. Not that there’s been much to do.”

“Noticed that. You guys didn’t get hit much by the Swarm, did you?” I ask.

“No, passed us by. We tracked it on the scanners, but outside of a few outliers, the general level around Carcross is too high to be affected. Yet,” Eilon says, then adds, “Peace out.”

“Did he just say what he said?”

“Translation error. The Eilon have a somewhat similar saying, just without the hippie connotations. Properly translated, it’d be ‘May the rains of peace fall and the winds of war blow past till our next meeting’,” Ali helpfully says, and I nod slightly.

“Peace out,” I repeat, smiling slightly. Well, when in Rome.

Jason, of course, stares at me as the pair leave, but I give him a grin. When they’re gone, I prod him to get back to teaching since he doesn’t seem inclined to talk about his feelings.

The next time we see the girls awake, it’s morning and Lana’s hogging the bathroom. Thankfully, the Clean spell works just as well for our purpose, so Jason and I end up doing the cooking for breakfast. The sheer volume of food we need to feed five Adventurers with enhanced metabolisms is staggering—we probably could have fed a few Sumo wrestlers in the meantime. Amusingly enough, Jason has a Skill that allows him to throw together our breakfast extra fast, which relegates me to doing prep work. I’m okay with that—my cooking is, as best, edible.

When Lana finally makes her way out of the bathroom, Mikito steps in from the balcony, where she’s been running through her forms. I’m amazed she manages to swing her polearm on the tiny balcony and not destroy anything, but I guess that’s why she’s a master martial artist and I’m just a hack with a pointy piece of metal. I try not to be too bitter about it—it’s not as if I haven’t gotten a lot better in the last few months, especially for a rank beginner. Between her lessons and Roxley’s, I’ve even gotten a veneer of skill. Doesn’t hurt that the System seems to boost my understanding of what I need to do whether or not I want it to.

Frankly, the sheer amount of changes the System makes on both a physical, mental, and somewhat social level is frightening. While the exact changes might not be as bad as the numbers on our stat sheets make it seem, it’s still clear that the System is reaching right into us and making changes on a daily basis. If I were a spiritual man, I might even be a bit afraid for my soul. I know that the churches and the remaining spiritual figures in town have been somewhat stretched in explaining both the System and the apocalypse. I don’t envy them that. I wonder how many have done the spiritual equivalent of sticking their fingers in their ears and going “na-na-na-nah”?

“Earth to tall, dumb, and brooding,” Ali says as he buzzes in front of me.

I blink, realizing I’ve gotten lost in my thoughts once again. It’s a bit of a worrying habit, one that I used to do a lot of pre-apocalypse. Mostly when I was under a lot of stress at work or avoiding thinking about uncomfortable facts—like the amount of time my now-ex spent on the phone with her “friend” in Whitehorse. I haven’t done that in ages, so finding myself doing so again is a bit concerning.

“Sorry.” I wave guiltily and look around. “I miss anything?”

“Just a discussion of what we’re going to do. We can sell our loot and the bodies in Carcross at the Guild. It will work out to be a minor loss in most cases and a decent gain in others. If we do that, we can hit the nearby mountain range and go hunting for something more Level appropriate,” Mikito says.

I grunt and look at Lana, who nods firmly. I’m not thrilled with the idea of running around killing even more monsters for the heck of it, but it does need to be done and we might find something interesting. Maybe a Dungeon or two.

“Coming?” I ask Jason. I know from our talks last night he’s been raring to do a bit more challenging hunting. I wasn’t so horrible of a friend to not actually chat about things he might need or want.

“Can’t. I have a couple of meetings today. Andrea wants to go over the development plans for the city, see if we can chart out the best upgrades to buy,” Jason says.

“Huh.” I rub my chin before shrugging. Teaches him to volunteer the fact that he was a huge gamer beforehand. Now that the world plays similar to some of our old computer games, figuring out how to streamline your development options is something he’d be pretty good at. Even if he does need to be reminded once in a while that his choices have real-world consequences. The optimal route might not be the best route, not when there aren’t any extra lives or game restarts. “Your loss. We’ll hit the Guild then and get hunting.”

I wish I could say the Guild was mind-blowingly awesome, a mixture of the streets in Harry Potter and Valerian’s floating alien city. Instead, it’s more akin to visiting a pawnshop. We dump our stock, there’s a brief argument between the counter attendant and Ali, and we’re on our way. The Shop when I first visited it, with its holographic walls, modern furniture, and glowing blue screens, was a lot closer to a science fiction shopping experience than this.

On the road again, the puppies take off at a speed I’m hard-pressed to keep up with, even with Sabre in mecha mode. We head toward Tagish, starting on the highway but quickly enough diverting into the tree line and the mountainside. Lana and Ali converse together at the front, using the extended senses of the puppies and Ali’s direct link into the System’s backend to hunt down threats for us.

It’s the usual plethora of the weird and nasty. Mutated Earth animals like an Arctic Fox or a Snow Owl, both of which wield impressive control over the lower end of the temperature spectrum. An Ice Bear that is busy freezing trees then eating them as popsicles. And then of course there’re the aliens. Elemental Salamanders whose bodies are so transparent, you can see the light blue lines of frozen blood that pump in greater haste as they throw icicles at us. Fluffy Snow Elementals that refuse to die no matter how many times we cut them, till we figure out it is their core we need to shatter. A flock of Crystal Birds that kamikaze us as they dive, shattering on our bodies before reforming and flying again, ever smaller till they finally can’t reform anymore.

Post-apocalypse Earth is filled with the weird and dangerous, and our job is to kill them all. I find myself tossing Fireballs and Mana Darts constantly, rotating between the two spells because it’s easier than cutting apart most of these creatures. I almost regret not purchasing a damn flamethrower for Sabre, until I remember that burning down forests is one of the things we’re desperately trying not to do before the onset of winter.

Still would be useful right now.

Fighting monsters in their mid-40s to low 50s means I’m not bored anymore, that I have to focus and pay attention and do damage. It’s not thrilling, not “flying by the seat of your pants and make a mistake and die” fighting, but it’s better. I’m awake again, focused. Kind of worrying that I’ve been getting a bit jaded with fighting for my life.

Our trip takes us up, up toward the top of the mountain ranges, and on a whim more than practical sense, it seems, we find ourselves climbing to the top of the range. A hike that should have taken us hours and left us winded, we finish in an hour and a bit and only because we have to stop and kill more monsters. There aren’t many up here, so we mostly just run, jump, and bounce our way up.

For a time, we stand and survey the lands around us. The snow-covered forests look so pristine and peaceful from a distance. A winding river, portions of it iced over, and frozen lakes, many of which look no different than the ground surrounding them but for a minor depression spread out before us as we relax. The skies are mostly clear, outside of a few flying gryphons and silver-colored avians. Oh, and the Dragon.

“Dragon!” I hiss, ducking and cursing.

It’s a hell of a distance away, so far that it’s mostly a dive-bombing speck, but there’s no such thing as far enough away when it comes to those creatures. The last thing we want to do is have it notice us and lead it back to our home. Bringing burning death to towns is bad. Lana and Mikito drop too, hunkering down low to the ground, and Ali stops hovering.

Dragons come in variations—from the almost-Dragons of Drakes and Wyrms to full-on, fire-breathing flying monsters of legend. Thus far, the ones we’ve spotted look like a cross between a Chinese Dragon and your typical western one with a long serpent body with giant wings that lift the creature. Real Dragons start at Level 100 for the juveniles, and an elder Dragon can easily cross Level 300. Ali once told me a story of Praxard, one of seven legendary Dragons that had been attacked by the Empire of Kingul. In retaliation for the attack, Praxard decided to destroy Morix IV, a sparsely populated planet that had just reached stage two of its terraforming under the aegis of the Empire. It had taken Praxard four hours to do the job.

Thankfully, Dragons seem to run by the manliest of reptile codes and don’t band together or support one another. It’s probably the only reason why they haven’t overrun everyone else and become the de facto rulers of everything. I sometimes regret not taking the Dragon Knight class when I had the option. When it comes down to one-on-one battle prowess, their Class Skills are significantly more powerful than the Erethran Honor Guards. Even if the Dragon Knights mostly fight lesser versions of the Dragons on their home world, they still kick ass.

“What is it doing?” Lana mutters, staring into the distance.

Vision magnified as much as possible, I watch as the Dragon swoops down again, breathing a spray of white smoke that dissipates quickly. Humanoid figures freeze in their tracks as the smoke touches them.

“Picking up a meal…” I mutter, watching as the Dragon wheels back casually and picks up a pair of the humanoid popsicles before winging away. As its wings beat, I note how the trees only seem to reach the humanoids’ chests. Chest-high trees, big Dragon… “Those are Giants!”

“Frost Giants. Must be a clan that moved in recently. Average height of about forty feet,” Ali adds.

Mikito’s squinting, probably watching it all through the contact lenses she’s purchased.

“Is it carrying the Giants off in its feet? Like a raven with a ground squirrel?” Lana says, unable to pick out details like we can. Even her Skill-enhanced eyes are unable to keep up with our technological tools.

“Yes,” Mikito says, her face pale.

I’m probably not looking too good either. That Dragon must be enormous.

“Let’s not fight that one,” I say, and there are rapid nods from all around.

We wait and watch as the Dragon wings away, never once glancing our way. In fact, it barely seems to pay attention to anything around it, arrogantly flying back to its nest. Then again, I can’t think of anything that could hurt it.

“Ali, is it headed back to Kluane?”

“Yes. The icefields down that way are probably its nesting grounds. My guess, it’s taken Mount Seymour as its home. Biggest icefields, tallest mountain, deepest inflow of Mana. Dragons are arrogant like that.”

“Not sure it’s arrogance when it can back it up.”

“Point, boy-o, point.”

When the Dragon is no more than a speck, we scurry down from the mountain, tails between our legs. Literally in the puppies’ cases. Our hunting is more subdued and focused, all of us probably thinking the same thought.

We’ve got a long way to go.

Chapter 4

By common consensus, we spend the next few days working from Carcross, hunting and killing in the higher-level zones that dot the surroundings. After our distant encounter with the Dragon, the rest of our hunting trips are routine. Lots of blood and violence, lots of monsters killed and looted, and even the occasional injury, but nothing surprising. I’ll admit, I get bored once again and start testing out new fighting techniques in the middle of battle just to liven things up. Forming a sword and kicking it straight through a monster is a lot more difficult than it looks in the animes.

Eventually, Rachel and Jason’s subtle hints that they’d like their home back stop being subtle. Surprisingly, now that we’re out of Whitehorse, Lana seems intent on not going back, at times almost rudely ignoring the couple. I have to admit, I’m getting a little antsy myself, considering what might be coming down the road for Whitehorse. In the end, it’s a message passed on through the Carcross City Council that gets us moving—a new, high-level dungeon has been found.

The moment we get the notice, we dump most of the extra loot that we’ve been keeping for sale in Whitehorse’s Shop with the Guild. There’s no point—the single monster they located in the dungeon was level 55, so if we survive, the dungeon will give us better loot overall. Theoretically we could swing by Whitehorse, but Lana’s insistent that we just do the dungeon. We acquiesce to her request and head straight for the coordinates, a hacked-together job of old GPS data and map coordinates that, thankfully, everyone with System access can figure out.

Up a mountain and around a series of trees, we’re greeted by an interesting sight. A quintet of muscular humanoid bulls clad in white, modern battle armor stand opposite another group of humans. Even from a distance, the tension between the groups crackles in the air. No surprise—Bill’s party has been one of the most outspoken against the Yerick.

“Capstan, Nelia, Aron,” I call out a greeting to the three Yerick I know.

The other two are known, but I can’t recall their names. I mean, I could look it up and read it off their nameplates and I do, but within moments, I’ve blanked again. You’d think that all the points I have in Intelligence would have made things like that easy to remember, but it might have as much to do with what I consider important or not. Their names, thus far, don’t register on any scale. Funny thing is, the Yerick might look like minotaurs from Greek legends, but I don’t think anyone ever envisioned an anatomically correct female minotaur. Not that you can really tell with Nelia, but could you imagine Greek statues of that?

Even as I muse on stupid things like that, I let my gaze roam over their group, noting a decent increase in Levels since the last time we fought together. That thought makes me look at Lana who, even with her face mostly hidden by Howard’s fur, is showing conflicting emotions.

“Redeemer,” Capstan rumbles, his voice like stones grating together. The leader of the Yerick towers over his group. “Are we all here?”

“I think so. Bill.” I tilt my head toward the leader of the other group.

Outside of ours, Bill’s group holds the highest number of high-Level humans in Whitehorse, so it’s not surprising that he’s here. Especially for an unknown, high-level dungeon. We might not see eye to eye on many things, but after our time in the Spore dungeon, we’ve gotten along better. Fighting beside someone has a tendency to do that. I’m also not surprised he didn’t tell the council to bugger off. The experience bonus from completion alone is hard to turn down. My eyes rake over his group, studiously ignoring Luthien, my ex, and noting that Kevin, the son of a bitch she cheated on me with, isn’t around.

Bill Cross (Level 7 Clipper)

HP: 1660/1660

MP: 930/930

Luthien Celbrindal (Level 47 Sorceress)

HP: 680/680

MP: 2,300/2,300

Damn. He’s gotten an Advanced Class now. I’m really curious about what the experience was like, but I’m even more curious about his actual Class title.

“You a barber now?” I ask Bill, who frowns at me then laughs, shaking his head.

“You can read Classes,” Bill says.

“It’s a cheapish purchase in the Shop,” I answer. Evasive, but truthful.

“It’s just the term the System gave my class,” Bill says.

“Any useful Class Skills?” I ask.

Bill shrugs with a half-smile. “I didn’t realize we were at that point.”

“Har. You’ve seen my tricks,” I say. “And you never know what might be needed in the dungeon.”

“No group Skills. I can layer damage on a single target significantly, and I have a ‘go away’ Skill now. It pushes back attackers. The rest are just Resistances,” Bill says, and I nod in thanks. “You?”

“Not much new. More spells—Fireball you might see more of if it’s not too tight in there. Otherwise, I can switch between playing defense or offense pretty fast.”

Bill nods then glances at the Yerick, his lips twisting wryly. “Well, I think they’ve got defense sewn up pretty well. Might not like them, but they’re tough fuckers. As we know.”

“Capstan especially,” I say. Tension or not, we’ve had to work together often enough that when the blood meets the blade, we’re all professional.

“I don’t think I ever told you, but I’m sorry to hear about Richard. I liked him,” Bill says, nodding toward Lana. “I tried to tell her but… well…”

“She thinks you’re an exploitive asshole.”

“And I think she’s a close-minded dreamer,” Bill says. “I’m just filling a need.”

I shake my head, glancing around. Not the time to get into this.

“Ingrid.” I nod at the assassin/rogue-Classed individual as my eyes finally find her.

It’s only because I’m watching for it that I note when my eyes skip over the raven-haired woman who stands to Bill’s left. She’s listened to every single bit of our conversation, unlike Luthien, who moved away. I still owe Ingrid for her part in keeping me alive during the last dungeon run.

“So who’s leading?” Bill says, having noticed my desire to not engage further.

“Capstan?”

“I believe my group is most suited to this, Redeemer,” Capstan rumbles, having heard us.

Bill looks dissatisfied for a second before he waves dismissively.

“Drones first though,” I say and hold out a hand, pulling them from my inventory. I throw the three I own into the sky and send them to scout ahead with a thought.

I’d send Ali too, but without entering the dungeon myself, he’s stuck out here. And even in the dungeon, he’s going to be tethered a lot closer than normal. The higher the Mana density, the closer he has to be to me; otherwise he’d be banished. Thus far, I haven’t figured out if there’s anything that can actually kill him, but Ali’s hinted that the process of being banished and summoned is actually quite painful.

While my drones are working on getting us a map, Lana moves over to speak with Capstan, getting a briefing on the kinds of monsters we might meet. Rather than get my information secondhand, I focus on the images the drones are sending back. I get about a hundred feet in before the Mana interference cuts in and I lose my connection. After that, all I can do is wait for the on-board programs to bring back the drones, hopefully undamaged.

“You know, most people don’t even see me when I don’t want them to,” Ingrid says when I finally stop staring at my screens.

I’ll admit it, I jumped a little and was in the process of calling my sword to me when I realized who it was. I glare at the raven-haired woman, and she smirks at me.

Yes. Smirks.

Ingrid Starling (??? Level ???)

HP: ???/???

MP: ???/???

“That’s a good way of getting stabbed, you know,” I grouse at her, absently noting that Ali still can’t pull up information on her in the System.

She laughs. Ingrid’s got a good laugh, one of those infectious ones that makes other people want to join in. Of course, she’s laughing at me, so I’m a little less likely to laugh with her but still, good laugh. “As if you could hit me.”

“You’re not that fast,” I point out, and she smirks again.

“And you’re not that good.”

“Uh huh.” I find myself getting grumpy, so I force myself to draw a deep breath. “You know, I’m actually working here.”

“No, you’re not. You’re waiting for the drones to get back. Right now, you’re just like the rest of us, waiting around with a stick up your butt. So, you going to share?” Ingrid asks.

At my frown, she points at my right hand. I look down and blink, seeing the bar of chocolate in it. I hand it to her without a word, pulling another for myself from my inventory.

“Think it’ll be as bad as our first?” Ingrid says around the chocolate bar that’s in her mouth.

“Our first?” I smile slightly, shaking my head. “Sounds improper the way you say it.”

“Down, boy,” Ingrid says.

Before I can say anything else, I find myself distracted, the feeds from the drones flickering to life. The download comes soon after, and I’m lost in reviewing everything I can about the dungeon. Long minutes of footage and radar readings give us a floor plan, but no sign of the monsters that reside in the cave. I flip through infrared then enhanced imaging and find nothing. It’s only when I go into watching in ultraviolet that the monsters jump out. I hiss, the sparking and jumping from the creatures a dead giveaway of the kind of trouble we’re going to see.

“That monster you fought, Capstan. It use any special powers?” I ask.

“None. Other than its ability to camouflage itself, it showed no additional abilities,” the Yerick answers.

“All right then.” I sigh and wave my hands.

Ali sends the information to everyone, both the incomplete map and the pictures we’ve taken. While everyone’s busy looking it over, I take to storing my drones.

“What are these white sparks?” Bill says, frowning.

“You’re looking at everything in enhanced visioning with ultraviolet light layering from the drones. The flashing white sparks come from the ultraviolet light that the monsters are giving off,” I answer.

It’s Mikito who gets it first, probably because she uses her lenses almost continuously. “Electricity. You think they might wield electricity.”

“Yes. No reason for the sparks to jump unless they’ve got a huge current running through them.” I glance into the ice cave with its hanging icicles. Outside of fire, lightning works well at killing. And it’ll avoid doing any significant damage to the ice cave itself.

“It makes no difference,” Capstan says, waving his group forward. “We shall kill them as they come.”

Nelia walks behind him, raising her staff and whispering words under her breath as she casts some support spells. Hopefully she as an electrical resistance one in there.

“Ali, anything you can do? Maybe layer your Elemental Affinity on us?”

“Sure. But I can only do it for four. That’s you, Lana, and Mikito. Who’s the last? That tall drink of darkness? Or your furry friend?”

“The healer. Always the healer, asshole.”

Even after my admonishment, I hear Ali chuckling. However, he’s also slowly extending his gift, layering a shield around the four of us. Between my Class abilities, Sabre’s armored resistances, and Ali’s gift, I should be pretty immune to anything those monsters can throw. I almost offer to go ahead, but keep my mouth shut at the last instant. Bull-headed is both a literal and figurative appellation for Capstan—if he says they’re going in first, they’re going in first.

Caves are, by their very nature, temperature-controlled habitats. Stepping in from the -30°C should make the cave feel warm, even if it’s filled with ice. Instead, the temperature drops again, and the humans who still have skin exposed hiss at the sudden cold. Everyone slaps, twists, and otherwise commands their body armor and clothing to seal off completely, removing bare flesh from sub-arctic air. Everyone except for Ali, of course, who decides to change into a speedo.

“No one needs to see that,” Lana says.

Luthien raises a slim hand and throws a glowing blue spell at Ali, one that the Spirit actually bothers to dodge. Mana-based spells will hurt anything, even Spirits who aren’t fully in our dimension.

Capstan and the rest of the Yerick ignore the byplay, stalking deeper into the dungeon, firing small glow-balls into the ceiling periodically to light up the area. Most of us have one form or another of enhanced vision, but it’s always a decent idea to light up your surroundings when you can. Never know what kind of spell or damage you might take.

A trio of monsters surge out of hiding from behind a stalagmite icicle, their low-slung webbed feet contrasting to the humongous heads and thick tails they use to attack. Pure white, with just the barest edging of crystal blue on their scales, the monsters look like a prehistoric version of a crocodile and are about thrice as mean. Capstan catches the first on his axe, his blade crushing and tearing apart scales before sliding off while the second clamps its mouth around his leg. It rears backward and throws the large Yerick aside while the last neocroc rushes Aaron. Aaron hops backward, dodging the snap by millimeters while firing his pistol from his hip, each bullet opening bleeding wounds on the monster.

Their initial attack over, Nelia has her hands in the air as she finishes her spell and glowing green lines spring into existence, trapping two of the monsters and locking them into place. Now that the combatants are mostly out of melee range, the rest of us open up on the trapped pair while Aaron duels with his own monster, straight-arming and kicking it before firing at it again and again. Unlike what anime and other TV shows might show you, it’s really a bad idea to shoot into a melee fight if you don’t have a choice. You never know who will jinx when they should have juxed.

I layer shots on the trapped and trashing monsters while I take in their Status Screen that Ali has finally tossed up.

Postosuchus (Level 52)

HP: 2799/3480

MP: 340/350

Postosuchus (Level 53)

HP 2477/3290

MP: 420/420

Tough but not overwhelming. Groups of three are doable, especially when we outnumber them so significantly. By the time Capstan gets back, the Postosuchus are dealt with.

“I left Whitehorse for this?” Bill says, disdain in his tone.

“You’re welcome to go,” Lana replies, waving toward the cave opening. “No one invited you.”

“Incorrect. I did,” Capstan rumbles. “This is but the entrance. More challenges await us within.”

“Well, let’s get on with it then,” Bill says, and Capstan nods.

Lana clenches her first and Nelia’s tail curls up in what I’ve learnt is anger, but Capstan walks forward, beckoning his team. I stay silent for now. Capstan’s a big, big boy and knows what he’s dealing with.

An hour and five fights later, beyond a slow increase in the number of monsters and the use of a freeze ray trap, this dungeon hasn’t gotten more dangerous. The lightning attacks never appear, which is a bit worrying. Perhaps I was wrong about what the sparks were meant for? Still, everyone else thought I was correct, and while the humans might not have much more experience than I do, the Yerick come from a long line of Adventurers. Whatever. Less trouble is good.

As usual, the dungeon morphs the actual dimensions of the cave, doing the “bigger on the inside” thing and letting us wander around for hours when we should have hit an ending already. Spatial dimensions, along with considerations like airflow and temperature, are an afterthought when it comes to Mana-infused dungeons. So when we hit an ice-filled cavern so large you could fit a couple of houses in it, no one’s surprised, though we end up squinting a bit from the reflected light from the hundreds of ice crystals.