ã€ŠRise Of The Worthy [LitRPG System Apocalypse]ã€‹


 Chapter 1: Pay The Toll

    Sometimes things don¡¯t work out the way you want them to. Hell, most of the time they don¡¯t. One day you¡¯re walking home from a late night at an unpaid internship for a job you don¡¯t want and you realize that literally everything you¡¯ve been working towards is leading you straight down the quick path with a long end.

    Then you just start looking for change. Doesn¡¯t matter if it''s good or bad¨C¡¯cause you just want to feel something. Some people go straight for booze, girls, or something even harder. A lucky few actually make something work, and maybe they don¡¯t end up following their dreams, but at least they get to sleep soundly and happily at night.

    Me? I¡¯m not that far gone yet, but I¡¯m really close to pulling the pin on the grenade labeled ¡®no turning back¡¯. Failure hangs around me like the rank aura of an eighty year old pack-a-day smoker. But I¡¯ve been covering it up with the perfumes of socially acceptable success for years now, so people have gotten used to my own brand of not-quite-failure. Not everyone would consider a PHD student at a middling university a failure, but when that student wanted to be an artist, then a musician, and a whole myriad of other non-job jobs?

    Well, call me little miss failure. ¡®Cause that¡¯s what I see in the mirror when a crisp suit and perfectly styled hair stare mockingly back at me.

    I look up at the station clock, then down at my phone. One of them reads eight fifteen and the other eight twenty-one. Overtime¡¯s a slow and insidious killer, and it¡¯s been sneaking up on me ever since the boss whose face I¡¯ve never seen decided I needed to prove my worth. For all the zero dollars he¡¯s paying me.

    Giant letters scroll by alerting us of some apocalypse-tainted train holding everything up a few stations back. Another scrolling thing tries to calm us by shoving Preservation propaganda down our throats, and for a lot of people, it works. Hell, it works to some level on me since I¡¯m not freaking out about a train-monster bursting through the tunnel and biting my head off. In fact, there¡¯s only one thing about the entire ordeal that bothers me.

    The damn train¡¯s late again. Not like it had ever been punctual in the first place, but ever since those electrical flare-ups a few years back, it¡¯s gotten so much worse. It used to be a few extra minutes between stops. Now I¡¯m waiting twenty minutes after the scheduled time for my ride back.

    ¡°Late again, huh?¡± The guy next to me says awkwardly with his face still half-buried in his phone. ¡°Whoever¡¯s in charge of running this thing should definitely be fired. Or shot. Depending on how useless they are.¡±

    I ignore him, pull out my headphones, and make a show of putting on a video. He shifts awkwardly, but seems to get the message. Normally I¡¯d at least tell him I was too tired for polite conversation, but the guy has been constantly annoying me for the last two months. No matter how many times I tell him to screw off he just keeps crawling back.

    Nobody else even looks up. Maybe someone would if he actually decided to touch me, but everyone is too busy staring at their own little private sanctuaries to notice. A bigger crowd than usual, too; almost looks like the train before this one didn¡¯t come either. Parents with strollers bounce kids on their knees to try and get them to calm down, other workers check their watches and sigh loud enough to make their displeasure known, and everyone else is doing their own thing. Whatever the hell that is.

    A loud noise crackles to life. It shrieks through the enclosed space, ripping through my ears like a tsunami of noise to crash violently against the back of my head. I grunt in pain and rip my headphones out, but the noise is only worse with them off. The guy next to me collapses into a twitching pile of uselessness. Then someone else follows. Before long, people are dropping like flies. Some are smart enough to get on the ground beforehand. Some heads slam against the concrete hard enough that I don¡¯t want to think about it.

    Kids stop crying. Some start crying way louder. I look over my shoulder as the noise eats away at my mind from the inside-out. It¡¯s still indescribable¨Cjust the sound of raw pain and agony echoing over and over again as it gets louder and louder. My lunch knocks at the top of my stomach, and if I¡¯d had supper, it would be knocking right alongside it.

    ¡°What the hell is happening?¡±

    Footsteps cut through everything. Quiet, soft, and only as echoing as a normal sound can be. I instantly snap to the source¨Cfully expecting an apocalypse-touched monster that attacked every now and again¨Cbut it¡¯s just people. A skinny man and a muscular woman to be precise, both in pinstriped suits like the ones from old black and white mafia movies.

    She¡¯s carrying her jacket in one hand over her shoulder, and the other¡¯s clenched around the handle of a briefcase that looks like it costs about as much as everything I own. Her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows, exposing a whole bunch of vivid blue tattoos that I can¡¯t really make out, and her hands are covered in white gloves that shimmer like they¡¯ve got a sheen of black ice on ¡®em.

    Comparatively, the guy isn¡¯t much to look at. His suit fits nice and all, but he¡¯s got the physique of a crack addict and a face that¡¯s a little too angular and handsome to be on that frame. Messy hair tops the mess of a man, and the entire bundle is capped off with a brilliant golden flower sticking out from his breast pocket.

    They calmly walk down the stairs as people fall around them. I don¡¯t need a fortune teller to know that they¡¯re trouble, but they could be one of many kinds of dangerous. The woman steps over a fallen man without even looking down at him, and the guy goes out of his way to avoid treading on the fingers of an old woman who might not have survived the fall.

    So not pure evil. Cold comfort in the presence of the noise that¡¯s trying to eat my brain.

    What now? There¡¯s only one way in and out of this place, unless I¡¯m willing to run down a dark tunnel that could possibly be filled with trains. If they¡¯ve got Classes, then running could just piss them off. Shit.

    As I¡¯m worrying about the fate of my mortal being, another sound cuts through the cacophony. A wet, sloppy tearing that starts with a bead of dripping red over the tracks, then extends quickly and violently to form a bloody gash. Before I have a chance to be disgusted by the display of horrific magic, a charred corpse falls free from the wound and crunches against the tracks, accompanied by a single flash of silver that almost stops my heart.

    A Coin. Right here? Right now?

    I look over my shoulder, fully expecting to see the pair rush the coin. But they don¡¯t even speed up. The man throws his hair out of his eyes, then exposes all of his perfectly white teeth in a grin that sends a chill down my spine.

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    ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you going to go for it?¡± He half-asks, half-states. ¡°This could be your only chance, you know. Coins don¡¯t just fall from the skies all that often.¡±

    His words take hold like a rabid beast, and suddenly they¡¯re all I can think about. If it¡¯s actually a Class Coin, then it¡¯s priceless beyond compare. Unused ones sell for hundreds of thousands¨Csome even going for close to a billion if they were for the right class. That kind of money could set me up for the rest of my life.

    Or it could kill me outright. It wasn¡¯t well known what happened to someone that got their hands on a Class Coin, but less than a quarter of them were ever seen again. No matter if they used them, sold them, or tried to destroy them.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got about a minute to make up your mind before we take it for ourselves.¡± The woman chimes in. ¡°Oh, and fair warning¨Cif you try to run away with it, we¡¯re gonna take it off your corpse. No hard feelings, yeah?¡±

    The man elbows her in the side. ¡°A corpse can¡¯t curse you, remember? She doesn¡¯t have a class.¡±

    ¡°Right, right.¡± The woman laughs. ¡°I take back my premature apology.¡±

    I¡¯m moving before I make a decision. Everything rational screams at me to let the Coin go¨Cthat I¡¯m not good enough to survive whatever happens to people when they get their classes. But listening to my rational mind¡¯s what got me here in the first place. My suit closes in around my neck as I try to run, and the heels my manager insisted I wear make it so much harder to get my footing. One of them snaps off mid-step, and I stumble as I kick it off into the distance. Someone grunts in pain a second later.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± I call out as I kick the other one off. Which is followed by another grunt. ¡°Sorry again!¡±

    I reach the edge of the platform in a few seconds. A quick check confirms that the train¡¯s still running extremely late, and I quickly scramble to throw my legs over the edge to drop down. It¡¯s not too far down¨Cjust a few feet¨Cand all the impact¡¯s absorbed through bent knees and proper landing posture.

    Guess those parkour classes weren¡¯t such a waste after all.

    The sound of the pair¡¯s footsteps somehow grows even louder now that I¡¯m further down. A chill seeps into my legs starting from my feet, and for a second, I wish that I¡¯d bothered to bring a purse. Or any kind of a bag at all, really. Then I¡¯d have some flats or sneakers to change into.

    But I don¡¯t have time to think. The body is already crumbling away, exposing a molten inner core that seeps down into the stony underside of the tracks, and the Coin is shining brilliantly in the light it gives off. My only chance at getting out of this boring everyday life.

    Cold metal presses into my feet. Stones jab at them for the few seconds it takes me to loom over the body. I can¡¯t tell if it''s a man, woman, or even one of those other species that apparently exist somewhere out there. It¡¯s just a lump of carbonized flesh and oozing liquid innards.

    ¡°Sorry for whatever happened to you buddy, but I¡¯m taking this.¡±

    I kneel down and swipe the coin before the smell really hits me. It¡¯s warm in my hand, almost like it¡¯d been in someone¡¯s mitten all day, and little sparks of something otherworldly nip at my skin as I bring it close to my face to try and make out the engraving. If it¡¯s one of the powerful classes, then I could be wasting billions of dollars on a massive gamble. Or it could be one of the weak ones¨Cthose that show up on the news more than any other class¨Cand I¡¯d effectively be throwing my life away for nothing.

    Before I even see the class inside, I know what I¡¯m going to do. I¡¯ve played it safe my entire life. Now I hate it. Besides, is it even a gamble when you¡¯re wagering something worthless to you?

    Suddenly, I can see. Engraved in the metal is a simple symbol¨Can ace of spades. I flip the coin over, and on the other side is the ace of hearts. Understanding cuts through the noise like a sharpened knife, bringing with it relief that almost gets me teary-eyed. And a description that I¡¯d never seen, but just¡­ know, somehow.

    Class Coin - Gambler.

    Primary stats: Worth and Fate.

    Ownership Status: Unused.

    My fingers close around the coin. The metal pushes against my skin, and I can feel the power inside of it. There¡¯s no turning back.

    I pull it close to my heart as the world shifts around me. Where there was nothing before now stands an ornate marble pillar decorated with golden filigree that writhes and slithers around the pillar like a thousand snakes. It shifts away from the top of the pillar, revealing a simple slot that¡¯s so dark and empty that it feels wrong to look at.

    It¡¯s the perfect shape for my Coin, and somehow, it feels like I¡¯m meant to put it in there. Like it fulfills the entire purpose of the thing existing in the first place. As if by magic my Coin shifts until I¡¯m holding it between my thumb and forefinger, pulling along my arm and body with an unstoppable force.

    The coin nestles against the opening. My mind tells me that I¡¯m making a terrible mistake. For the first time in years I ignore it and press the coin into the darkness.

    A series of clinks like a gumball falling down a metal machine echo from inside the pillar. I watch with confused disbelief as the most valuable thing I ever held falls and rebounds against what I thought was a stone pillar but sounds like cheap aluminum. After a while the impacts stop, and more simple text thoughts appear in my mind.

    Human registered: ¡®Shelby Thestalos¡¯.

    Admission paid: one Class Coin.

    Clearance level One issued.

    Class ¡®Gambler¡¯ assigned at level 1.

    Base stats and starting Worth generated.

    Issuing Class Card and initiating transfer.

    The pillar shakes as the filigree surrounding it slithers towards a single point directly under the coin slot. It fits together like puzzle pieces, locking together to create a single rectangle the size of my palm that falls off the stone and clatters to the ground. I blink twice, then bend down to pick up what I assume is the ¡®Class Card¡¯.

    ¡°Looks like she made a choice. Good for her.¡± The man says from the edge of the platform. ¡°Wonder if she¡¯s going to make it. Haven¡¯t had a Gambler live for more than a week in years.¡±

    The woman snorts in amusement and offers me a salute. I¡¯m not sure if it was meant to be sarcastic or not.

    ¡°Good luck. You¡¯ll need a whole lot of it if you want to make it back alive.¡±

    Before I can get a word out, the card burns molten hot. I yelp in surprise and try to drop it, only to find that the damn thing unwound itself and is now in the process of climbing up my arm with burning hot metal.

    I bite back a scream of pain and claw at my arms in a fruitless attempt to pry the molten metal from my skin. Sweat cascades down my face as my lip starts to bleed, but as quickly as it came, it stops. My breaths come hard and ragged for a few seconds, and I fall back on the soft sand to stare up at a deep cerulean sky with raggedy silver clouds that look like they¡¯re laced with blackened steel.

    A blood curdling scream splits the air. The gold that holds my arm prisoner flushes with warmth, and text superimposes itself on top of the scenery. I have to roll over and shift to my knees to get a good read on it.

    Welcome to the Seasky Shores.

    The exit will appear in exactly fifteen days.

    Your clear conditions are as follows:

    Accumulate 1,000 Worth: 25/1000.

    Arrive at the exit location: 0/1.

    If either of these conditions are not met, you will be disposed of.

 Chapter 2: One Coin, One Class

    Fifteen days. I bite my lip and look around for the source of the scream, but the only thing that¡¯s out of place is a pool of blood growing off in the crystal clear water. At least that¡¯s what it looks like, but I can¡¯t see anything through it, so it has to be some kind of an optical illusion. From the sound of that scream I¡¯m not risking my skin to go for a quick swim to confirm the theory.

    ¡°Well. I guess I get what I wished for.¡± I muse as I push myself to my feet, wincing all the while as sand forces itself into my socks. ¡°God, that is not a good sensation. And¡­ yup, my shoes didn¡¯t come with me. Wonderful.¡±

    I sigh and scratch my arm, then pause. A quick glance confirms that the gold somehow disappeared. There isn¡¯t a Class Card anywhere to be seen, unlike what the text told me, but all this shit is obviously magical. All I have to do is figure out how to use it.

    ¡°System.¡±

    Nothing.

    ¡°Open? Interface? Status? Class? See Class Card? Access permissions?¡± I hiss through my teeth and cross my arms. ¡°Information? Help? ¡­Nothing? Seriously? The grand magical thing that teleported me to god knows where can¡¯t understand intent. It spoke English to me, so it has to let me access it in English.¡±

    I look out over the endless stretch of perfectly clear water, then turn and focus on the beach that seems to go on for just as long. So I¡¯m supposed to survive two weeks here with no food, water of dubious quality, and apparently magical abilities that I have no way to access.

    I bend down and pull off my useless socks. The sand is soft between my toes, but when I put pressure on it, it almost forms into one solid mass. I try stomping on it a few times to make sure I¡¯m not imagining anything, but no. It¡¯s like that novelty sand you can buy in gift shops, whatever it¡¯s called.

    ¡°At least it¡¯ll be easier to walk.¡± I muse as I start doing exactly that. But I can¡¯t get my mind off the bloody patch a good half-mile offshore.

    What died for that? If it was some kind of sea creature, then that might be my only source of food. Or if it was something from the land that wandered into the water, then it was doing a wonderful job hiding itself from me.

    ¡°Looks like I¡¯ve got to be careful of literally everything. The thing told me to survive fifteen days. That could mean literal survival¨Clike hunting and finding water¨Cor it could mean things are going to attack me.¡±

    Just like every other city girl, the most survival anything I¡¯ve ever done were a few weekend camping trips with friends. My parents prefer the comfort of a cheap hotel room to the chill and crappy food of a ten-foot tent, and honestly, I don¡¯t blame them for their preferences. Especially since it looks like even the shittiest pup tent is going to be wishful thinking for me.

    I come to a slow stop next to a tiny hole in the sand. ¡°Huh. Shouldn¡¯t I be freaking the hell out right about now? I mean, I just got sent across space¨Cand maybe time¨Cto somewhere that might not even technically exist. And magical words just told me that I might die even if I manage to survive fifteen days.¡±

    That sounds panic-worthy to me. Or at least shot-nerves-worthy. Not the weird calm I¡¯m feeling.

    ¡°What did that message say I needed again? A thousand ¡®Worth¡¯, with the ¡®W¡¯ capitalized? Is that like my money or something?¡± I kick the sand over the hole in thought, then keep moving. ¡°What were the other things it said¡­ Body, Mind, Fate, and¡­ Soul, I think? It called all of them my stats, like an RPG, but I have no idea what the hell they mean. There¡¯s got to be some kind of status screen or pause button I¡¯m just not seeing.¡±

    Nothing that convenient popped out of nowhere. Just stretches of endless sand and sea that were almost indistinguishable from each other.

    Almost.

    I walk as far as my legs will take me, but even then, I can¡¯t see anything at all. The horizon is just as far off as it had been a few minutes ago. And whatever had screamed before wasn¡¯t showing its ugly mug any time soon, apparently.

    ¡°How am I supposed to find anything in this godforsaken place?¡± I mutter and kick the sand in the hopes that it might give me a random skill. ¡°Okay. No. There¡¯s got to be hints here somewhere, and I¡¯m just not seeing them.¡±

    I look back at the blood in the water. It¡¯s almost gone now, but it almost looks like it won¡¯t completely dissipate. Like some kind of grim reminder to not go in the water. If that isn¡¯t a hint¨Cor a misdirection¨Cthen there¡¯s not a hope in hell for me. But that¡¯s not all I¡¯ve seen. There are more tiny holes littering the beach, and they¡¯re opening up and filling in around me. Not many of them, though; three or four of them at a time, spread out over a ten or so foot radius from me.

    Aside from those two things, though? Absolutely nothing at all.

    ¡°Holes first, I guess. Since the only other option looks like a horrible shark attack.¡±

    I get on my hands and knees and start carefully digging out the sand around one of the holes. It¡¯s difficult work since it keeps hardening just enough that I can¡¯t get my fingers through it, and the sand itself almost feels like a mass of extremely small glass beads. Not the smooth, uneven stuff that most beaches are made of, but a strange uniform material that doesn¡¯t leave a residue on my hands and flows like water when I¡¯m not applying pressure to it.

    After a few minutes of trial and error I feel something new with my fingertips. It¡¯s hard all the time¨Cnot only when I push on it¨Cand it feels like there¡¯s some kind of inscription on it. The word ¡®Worth¡¯ instantly springs to mind, and I carefully excavate the thing until it meets the light of day.

    It¡¯s round, slightly bulbous around the middle, and with a simple five-pointed star carved into both sides of it. But not like a starfish¨Cmore like the kind of star you¡¯d draw in a connect-the-dots puzzle meant for six year olds. The lines buzz with something that I really hope is magical, and all of the dots are inlaid with tiny white stones.

    It¡¯s also only a little bigger than my thumb nail.

    ¡°A little sand dollar.¡± I say flatly as I examine the possibly magical shell. It shudders a little, reminding me that there¡¯s still something alive inside of it. ¡°...Wait. I thought sand dollars were the skeletons of these things. How can there be something alive in it?¡±

    I flip it over to see if the other side¡¯s got the same star pattern. There is, but none of the indents are filled with stones. Maybe something plucked them out already, or maybe the stones were¡­ like¡­ the thing¡¯s eyes. I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve heard about things having rock-like eyes before.

    But now I had something to work with. I hold it up at eye level, focus on it as hard as I can, and take a deep breath of anticipation.

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    ¡°Identify.¡±

    Trigger word for opening the Encyclopedia Totalia set to ¡®Identify¡¯.

    Information on the creature in question is held within.

    Cost for information: 5 worth.

    Complete the transaction?

    ¡°Five worth?¡± My lips curl into a frown. ¡°That¡¯s a fifth of everything I have. But¡­ how else am I supposed to find out anything about this thing? It¡¯s not like there¡¯s a starter guide for this shit.¡±

    With a heavy heart I confirm the transaction. Five Worth leaves me, and somehow, I feel ever so slightly lesser with the loss. Like I¡¯m less of a person now that I¡¯m only ¡®worth¡¯ twenty instead of twenty five.

    Payment accepted.

    Issuing information for a Mind stat of one.

    ¡®Ghost Quarter: a species of shellfish that closely resembles the skeleton of a sand dollar on Earth. If used in place of Worth in the casting of a spell, utilization of a skill, or of any non-transaction means, carries a Worth of 0.5. Worthless otherwise.

    The information suddenly exists in my mind as if I¡¯ve known it all along. I don¡¯t have to put it to memory¨Cwhatever this system did to me cemented the knowledge just fine. Better than fine, actually. It doesn¡¯t feel like I¡¯m remembering something when I go to access it, but like it¡¯s a fact that somehow scoured itself into my being.

    I flip the ghost quarter like a coin and snatch it out of the air. Something nips at the back of my mind, but it leaves the second I open my hand and look at the thing once again.

    ¡°Apparently I can cast spells with you, little ghost.¡± I tell the thing even though I know it can¡¯t understand me. ¡°If only the damned system would tell me how to do that¨Cthen at least I¡¯d have some entertainment while I¡¯m stuck in this godforsaken¡­ beautiful place.¡±

    The waves lap against the sand as the silence lingers on. I palm the ghost quarter and go to put it in my pocket, but am reminded that there aren¡¯t any pockets on my damn suit. And that I accidentally left my purse at the office.

    ¡°What kind of a system doesn¡¯t have an introductory spiel? There¡¯s got to be a thousand intricacies with it, but I¡¯m stuck here holding a shellfish and talking to myself.¡± I crawl over to the next hole in the sand and start digging it out. ¡°At least tell me what the Gambler class does. Then I¡¯d have something to look forward to.¡±

    Time passes a little faster than I expected, and after a while, I have a good little pile of ghost quarters. If I ever learn how to use spells I¡¯ll have all the ammunition I need. The things tingle against my skin a little, like tiny static shocks constantly running up my arm. Instead of hurting, or even feeling uncomfortable, they¡¯re like little injections of caffeine and awareness directly into my bloodstream.

    I roll my eyes and keep walking the shoreline. ¡°Glad that the system decided to keep that little tidbit from me. If I had a higher Mind stat, would it have given me more info?¡±

    Honestly, I¡¯m a little insulted that the system only gave me a Mind stat of one. I don¡¯t know what kind of scale it¡¯s on, but unless it gives literally everyone the same starting stats, then it means I¡¯m not as smart as I thought I was. Not that I think I¡¯m a genius¨Cmy grades definitely say I¡¯m aggressively average¨Cbut I always thought I was¡­ better than that, I guess.

    The sand crunches under my feet in such a departure from what I¡¯d gotten used to that it stops me in my tracks. I raise an eyebrow and take a step back, looking for anything out of the norm with a little more desperation than I expected. It¡¯s only been a little over an hour at this point, but it looks like this much nothing is messing with my head.

    Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary stares back up at me. My curiosity turns into a frown, and I kneel down awkwardly to run my hands over the sand. Even though nothing looks different, the texture is the complete opposite of what I¡¯m used to. Sand crunches between my fingers if I don¡¯t put pressure on it, and turns to a soft powder when I apply enough force. Which is¡­ actually more normal than before if I think about it.

    Warning: you are about to leave the designated ¡®safe zone¡¯.

    Once you leave, your system will fully activate and the dangers of the zone will be able to sense you.

    Think long before you make your decision.

    Finally. I stand up straight and carefully clutch my fistful of quarters, wincing as I step onto the uncomfortably rugged sand. Unlike before, it turns soft as I step, making pushing off so much harder. Ten steps tires me out as much as fifty had, and before long I¡¯m cursing the fact that I don¡¯t have a replacement pair of shoes.

    Welcome, Gambler. You have emerged from safety far quicker than most.

    Your zone has now been synchronized with multiple others.

    Your Class Card is now available with the command ¡®Call Card¡¯. If you give it to anyone or lose it, know that you can dismiss it with ¡®Dismiss Card¡¯. Verbal commands are not needed, though they may help you access the system.

    Be on your toes, or die on your knees.

    Ominous as hell. But whatever reluctance I have is instantly overshadowed by the burning desire to do literally anything magical. I extend my free hand and open my palm like I¡¯m going to shoot a beam from it, then grin wide as the words spill out of my mouth.

    ¡°Call Card.¡±

    Warmth reappears on my arm as gold runs across my shoulders. It slithers down my left arm and winds itself around my fingers, carefully knitting the exact same rectangle I¡¯d seen in the train station in midair. Once all the gold is spent the card shines bright and then smacks into my hand like a baseball.

    I raise the card to my face with bated breath. A picture of me is etched into the gold, perfectly replicating what I can only describe as my best side in shining metal.

    Shelby Thestalos, Gambler.

    Net Worth: 20.

    B: 1. M:1. S: 1. F: 2.

    ¡ûPull for more information¡ú

    Two fingerprints are etched into the metal right next to the arrows. I look down at my full hand and awkwardly shift until I can get both thumbs on the pads, then gently pull the two sides of the card away from each other.

    A line of brilliant light separates the thing into perfect halves, then continues to grow and grow as I spread my arms apart. Tabs and an eight long by four high grid appear before my eyes. The first two squares are outlined in stone-white, followed by six squares that are simply gold, and the rest are grayed out.

    Inventory / Stats / Skills / Spells / Information

    One of the two white-rimmed squares is already filled, but when I try to press on it, cold denial shoots up my arm and makes me flinch away. Understanding comes with it; the system wants me to look over everything in this Class Card before I try to take anything out. I try pressing a ghost quarter to the golden light just to get them out of my hand, and before I can react, golden light swallows the entire pile.

    In their place, I now have one more square filled with a picture of the ghost quarter and a counter that says ¡®x20¡¯. An attempt to take them out leaves me with another sensation of cold, and this time the understanding feels a little condescending.

    ¡°I get it, I get it. Don¡¯t try to take anything out yet.¡± I mutter as I reach out to tap the next tab.

    Warning: hostile entity detected. Entering safe mode.

    The thing snaps shut, nearly taking my fingers with it in the process.

    ¡°What the hell?!¡±

    I snap all around, looking for the so-called hostile entity. I can¡¯t make anything out on the beach, but just as I realize my mistake, an eruption of wetness and the sound of something breaching the water confirms it.

    A body as tall as my shoulders slams to the sand, turning it into a mess of soft powder on impact. Something I can only describe as a shark combined with a great dane shakes the water off its back, then locks its beady black eyes on me. An maw already filled with too many razor sharp teeth opens wide in a horrendous growl, revealing bloody scraps from whatever else the thing had feasted on.

    And bits of colourful fabric.

    Would you like a tutorial on how to use your spells?

    If yes, please confirm a payment of (3) Worth.

 Chapter 3: The Cost of Magic

    I mentally smash ¡®confirm¡¯ as fast as possible.

    Payment processed.

    Grave danger detected: speeding up perception of time to deliver the purchase.

    The world seems to slow, but that doesn¡¯t stop the thing from charging with its jaws open wide. It turns its head to the side and leans down to aim for my leg, but when I try to run, all of my movements are too slow. Everything except for my thoughts.

    No starting spells detected.

    No mana detected.

    Granting spells Shield and Projectile at no cost.

    (5) temporary glass lones granted for the demonstration.

    Five small glass coins the size of pennies appear before me. They hover in midair between me and the shark-dog, then spin on their vertical axis to show off what their faces hold. On one side is a single tally mark, and the other a strange pattern that almost looks like the structure of some molecule.

    Your Worth is your life, your power, and your progress.

    Individual coins hold little value in trade, yet can be used in many different ways.

    The most common is as a vehicle for spells.

    Take the allocated coins and force the ¡®Shield¡¯ spell into one of them.

    There¡¯s no more explanation after that, and I can feel the world going back to normal speed as the text fades from my vision. Dread washes over me as teeth and weight are suddenly moving that much faster, but something doesn¡¯t let me run. The coins in my hand twitch and shiver with untapped potential. I try to focus as much as I can with the remnants of slowed time I have, shift the coins ever so slightly, and hold one between my ring and middle fingers.

    I visualize a frontal barrier in front of me that could easily block the shark-dog¡¯s attacks, then squeeze the coin as tightly as I can.

    ¡°Shield!¡±

    The coin glows for a split second. An uncontrollable urge to throw the coin seeps out of my mind, and my body obeys. I flick my fingers and let go of the coin, watch it sail through the air with way more force than I put into it, and look away as the coin collides with the dog.

    A barrier of translucent grey light erupts from the coin as it shatters into a million pieces. The dog yelps in surprise as its head slams into the solid object, which is followed by a sickening crunch as the rest of its weight catches up with it.

    I finally regain my senses and take multiple steps back towards the easier terrain, shifting the other four coins between my fingers to ready myself for the follow-up. Except it doesn¡¯t come. The shark-dog stumbles around for a few seconds in obvious disorientation, whipping its head around as it searches for the source of the barrier.

    It hasn¡¯t made the connection that I did that. But it¡¯s looking for something else, and completely ignoring me. Does that mean there¡¯s something else around here that it knows can make barriers?

    I shake my head and put the thought away for later. One problem at a time.

    ¡®Shield¡¯ has been registered to your Class Card as a level one spell.

    Information on it has been revealed based on your ¡®Mind¡¯ stat.

    ¡®Projectile¡¯ has yet to be registered.

    I can fix that real easy. I shift a coin into throwing position and take aim at the disoriented dog, then push that same feeling from before down into the coin.

    ¡°Projectile.¡±

    The coin shakes fiercely between my fingers, and before I can even make an attempt at throwing it, it flies out on its own. The thing bursts into shards the moment it leaves my fingers, and those shards all explode into dull grey energy that wraps around a brighter grey nucleus until there¡¯s a swirling mass of energy flying straight at the dog.

    ¡®Projectile¡¯ has been registered to your Class Card as a level one spell.

    It slams into the thing¡¯s side with an audible thump. The thing shrieks as it''s taken off its feet, tumbles a few times in the sand, and splashes into the water with enough force to skip twice. I stare at the poor animal in disbelief for a few seconds, then wince as the thing¡¯s corpse floats to the surface of the water.

    Blood leaks out of a gnarled hole in its side, polluting the pristine water with rivulets of ruby red. I wait a few seconds for any other disturbances¨Clike the thing that had killed whatever I saw when I first got here¨Cbut all I have to show for my patience is an even bigger blood stain.

    I glance up at the sky with a frown. Wasn¡¯t I supposed to get experience for this? Or¡­ loot, at least? Maybe some Worth, since I¡¯m somehow supposed to get a thousand of the stuff in two weeks. Of which I currently have a whopping seventeen.

    ¡°Hey, system. Why didn¡¯t I get anything for that kill?¡±

    Nothing answers me.

    ¡°Damn it. How am I supposed to get ¡®Worth¡¯ if those ghost quarters don¡¯t count towards it, and neither does killing a monster?¡± I mutter under my breath as I hike up my pants and wade into the water. ¡°Bullshit system doesn¡¯t want to help me at all. Probably wants me to die so someone else can get the Gambler coin.¡±

    My mutterings pause when the water starts to rub against me like a sponge. I pause and look down, but I can¡¯t see anything below the middle of my calves. It doesn¡¯t feel like an animal, but more like the water itself is somehow¡­ abrasive?

    I shake my head and laugh. ¡°I just walked on a kinetic sand beach and fought a shark-dog with magic, and I¡¯m worried about water that¡¯s a little too rough. Maybe I¡¯m just kicking up way too much sand.¡±

    Yeah, sure. I totally believe my own bullshit. It¡¯s definitely not some kind of freakish leech with sandpaper skin and hooked teeth that pumps you full of sedative so you don¡¯t feel it latching onto your skin and draining away your bone marrow.

    For absolutely no reason at all, there¡¯s a little more pep in my step as I wade out to thigh-deep waters and grab the shark-dog by its hind legs. I pull it back as fast as physically possible, wincing as the rough waters abrade my delicate skin to what I can only imagine as a horrible shade of blood-red.

    I spring free from the water and haul the shark-dog onto the sand, gasping and panting as terrified sweat cascades off me in buckets. Oh, God, I don¡¯t want to look at my legs. Just because they don¡¯t feel like someone took a fine cheese grater to them, doesn¡¯t mean that they aren¡¯t bloody and stringy with abraded flesh.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Gathering my courage takes longer than anything else I¡¯d done so far today, but eventually I look down at my legs with grit teeth and a held breath. I exhale and laugh in relief when all it managed to do is make my skin look a little smoother, then shake my head as the mirth drains and is replaced with cold, hard reality.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to eat this.¡±

    I look around, hoping for something to interrupt me, but nothing does.

    ¡°System, is the spell tutorial done? It didn¡¯t feel like I got my¡­ Worth¡¯s worth.¡±

    No answer. Again.

    ¡°Call card.¡±

    My Class Card appears in my free hand. I pull it open for the second time, then stare at the pair of filled grid slots. The ghost quarters could be used as a replacement for spending my very limited Worth on spells, but that wasn¡¯t going to get me any closer to my goal of a thousand Worth. It¡¯d just staunch the bleeding.

    I reach tentatively towards the other filled square, fully expecting to be denied once again.

    This item is a package, and if removed, will automatically open.

    The items inside take up far more than one inventory space.

    However, it is highly recommended to take and use it as soon as physically possible.

    Well that solved a mystery I hadn¡¯t even found yet. I close my fingers around the holographic image, then yank them back in a pulling motion. A thick cloth strap appears between my fingers, and an entire backpack follows not a second later.

    I stumble back in surprise. The backpack isn¡¯t much to look at¨Cjust a plain brown thing with two shoulder straps and no pockets save for the main one, which is sealed by a flap and two metal fasteners. So definitely not watertight. I reach down to flip the two metal protrusions, pull the flap away, and expose the contents to the light of dusk.

    Inside is a change of clothes, a box of energy bars, and an empty water bottle that looks like it has a filter inside of it. I can see all of it from the top, and when I clean it out, it becomes obvious that there isn¡¯t anything else inside.

    Even though I¡¯d gone in expecting nothing, I still find myself disappointed. Well, at least the clothes look like my size. And the energy bars are the kind that taste alright. I look around as if there¡¯d be anyone else here, then strip off my uncomfortable work clothes and change into the shorts, t-shirt, and strange toe-shoes the pack had given me.

    I fill the bottle with water, take a single energy bar out of the box, then stand staring at the shark-dog as I ponder my options. There aren¡¯t many of them, and most of them involve me butchering this animal for meat and bones.

    And teeth. Lots and lots of teeth.

    ¡°Since I know absolutely nothing about how to do that, let¡¯s check the rest of my Class Card first.¡± I mutter and look away from the blood draining into the sand.

    The first tab has been completely exhausted for now, so I tap over to the one labeled ¡®Stats¡¯. The grid system blurs away and is replaced with five differently coloured letters and numbers that take up the entire golden screen.

    1B/1M/1S/2F/17W

    The ¡®B¡¯ is forest green, ¡®M¡¯ is light blue, ¡®S¡¯ is dark pink, ¡®F¡¯ is orange-ish yellow, and ¡®W¡¯ is silver. It¡¯s a repeat of what¡¯s on the card itself, and it seems like such a waste of an entire tab if this is its entire point. I reach out and press on the green ¡®B¡¯, and am pleasantly surprised when it zooms in and displays more text.

    The ¡®Body¡¯ stat is both a high end of your possible physical prowess, and your body¡¯s ability to adapt to unnatural changes.

    A higher body stat allows for greater modifications, a higher physical ability in every way, and more efficient functions for all of your body¡¯s performances.

    What it does not do, however, is flat-out increase your physical prowess¨Crather, it raises the cap for what is possible to do with your human form.

    Okay, now that was actual solid information. It doesn¡¯t tell me exactly what a stat of one converts to, but at least now I know that I won¡¯t suddenly be able to lift cars if I find something that increases my Body. It does allude to being able to do superhuman things, though I¡¯ll probably have to work my ass off to get there.

    I nod to myself, information already cemented in my brain, and pinch the screen to get back to the simple display. Then I go through the other stats one by one.

    The ¡®Mind¡¯ stat is a show of how much information the system will dole out to you, in addition to how quickly¨Cand accurately¨Cyour mind works.

    A higher mind stat increases the amount of information gained from the system, improves your memory, improves reaction time, and all other brain-related functions.

    It does not make you smarter.

    It does not make you clever.

    It does not make you immune to trickery, propaganda, or manipulation.

    It does not¡­

    The list of all the different ¡®it does not¡¯s goes on for at least a dozen more lines, and scrolls down even further than that. A lot of people probably dumped points into Mind and expected to become geniuses overnight, but it¡¯s weird that the system is giving out so many disclaimers. There¡¯s got to be more of a story there.

    The ¡®Soul¡¯ stat is your magical aptitude.

    Increasing this stat increases the effectiveness of your spells, but only if they are cast with mana.

    It also increases the regeneration rate of your mana.

    If you don¡¯t know what ¡®mana¡¯ is while you are reading this, your Class does not have access to it.

    Do not attempt to cast spells with mana you do not have.

    It will either do nothing or it will kill you.

    ¡°Heard loud and clear, text-on-screen.¡± I chuckle to myself.

    The ¡®Fate¡¯ stat is a hard threshold for certain events.

    If you meet the requirements for an event, and your Fate is not high enough, the event will not trigger.

    In addition, certain powerful aspects of spells, skills, or items also scale with fate.

    ¨CNote that the information below is only provided due to your Gambler class.

    Fate is an all-or-nothing stat. Either it gives you absurd rewards and catapults you higher than any other stat can, or it will do absolutely nothing for you and leave you weaker than your peers. That is your Gamble, should you choose to build into it.

    Now that¨Cthat sounds completely useless. All the other stats so far give some kind of combat power, but this one doesn¡¯t look like it gives me anything except chances. And if they¡¯re like any of the optional difficult quests for good loot I¡¯ve played through in games, they were going to be ten times harder than anything else.

    ¡°Not that I have any points to spare anyway. But it looks like investing in Body is probably the best first bet. Or I¡¯m severely underestimating how important Fate is.¡±

    The ¡®Worth¡¯ stat is your currency.

    Once you have accumulated sufficient Worth, you will be given access to certain bonuses.

    Once you pass one of these thresholds, even if you dip beneath it, you will not lose the bonuses it provided or be able to trigger that specific threshold again.

    ¨CNote that the information below is only provided to you due to your Gambler class.

    There are two forms of Worth: Net Worth and Liquid Worth.

    Net Worth is the sum of everything stored in your Class Card that you could feasibly use to increase your power.

    Liquid Worth is the Worth that you have on-hand to spend.

    Worth thresholds only take into account your Liquid Worth, so it is recommended not to spend any until you reach a threshold, then make all of your purchases at once.

    ¡°Finally a few hints.¡± I mutter to myself. ¡°That message from earlier said Gamber¡¯s main stats were Fate and Worth, so that¡¯s probably why I get more info on them. Which probably means there¡¯s more to Mind, Body, and Soul than the system¡¯s telling me.¡±

    But I can¡¯t worry about that now¨CI need to survive first. From the looks of it, Worth is a combination of experience and money, which means I could easily screw up a level by spending way too much of it. It also means I¡¯m firing experience points every time I go to use a spell.

    Now that¡¯s annoying.

    I zoom back out and stare at my stats. One of everything, except for the one that isn¡¯t really a stat. Looks like my Class doesn¡¯t give any starting bonuses, or if it does, then people can actually start with zero in a stat. Which honestly sounds kind of absurd.

    Third-to-last is the skills tab. I tap over to it and the information I¡¯d been looking for finally stares back at me.

    Skills

    Twisting Fate: Gambler Class skill.

    High Stakes: Gambler Class skill.

    Further skills unlocked by acquiring them from quests, shops, rewards, or by reaching specific stat thresholds.

 Chapter 4: If They Dont Catch You

    Still no mention of levels. I could¡¯ve sworn the initial system message said my class was level one, but now that I¡¯ve seen every tab in my Card, there¡¯s no sign of it. Either I missed something obvious or there¡¯s hidden information somewhere I can¡¯t access. Probably under some higher Mind threshold.

    I press the ¡®Twisting Fate¡¯ skill and wait for it to fill the screen with its description.

    Twisting Fate: Gambler Class skill.

    Force an event to end in either its best likely outcome or worst likely outcome.

    Gains (1) use every 100 hours, up to a maximum of (1). Recharges 2% faster per point of Fate.

    Current uses stored: (1).

    Upgrade cost:???

    Upgrade requirements:???

    High Stakes: Gambler Class skill.

    Create a situation with a non-determinative outcome.

    Any Worth you wager on that outcome will be paid out based on the situation¡¯s odds.

    If you are caught cheating, you instantly lose.

    Worth gained in this way cannot be used again with this skill.

    Current maximum odds: 1/1.

    Upgrade cost:???

    Upgrade requirements:???

    Okay, one of those sounded way stronger than the other. But in tandem, I guess I could gamble away all of my Worth for the chance to instantly get way more? In¡­ one to one odds. I¡¯m pretty sure that means I¡¯d win one Worth for every one Worth I bet, or effectively doubling whatever I bet. So no massive payouts for me.

    ¡°One to one odds, huh. Like a coin toss.¡±

    I slip a coin through my fingers and let it rest against my palm. It barely feels there any more¨Calmost like it¡¯ll poof away at any second.

    ¡°Well, I paid three Worth for two spells. Can¡¯t be too sad with that deal.¡± I tell myself as I position the coin over my thumb nail. ¡°I wonder if this thing¡¯ll still disappear if I wager it.¡±

    I flick my thumb upwards, sending the coin spinning through the air. That same sensation as when I flipped the ghost quarter shoots through me. Two words pool at the tip of my tongue, equally viable in their chance at winning.

    ¡°Heads.¡± I eventually say mere moments before the coin flumps into the sand.

    A sensation of loss plinks against my mind as I bend down to check it. The tally mark is face-up, and the moment I see it with my own two eyes, the coin fades away like steam on a windy day.

    Well, that¡¯s why I have two more. I line them up on both of my thumb nails and flick them upwards, but this time I don¡¯t call anything. They spiral through the air, the sensation of potential nipping at my mind all the while. It dies the second they hit the sand, and when I bend down, neither the one that landed on heads nor the one that landed tails disappears.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know what I expected, but at least I can¡¯t accidentally use the skill.¡± I chuckle as I pick up the coins. ¡°There¡¯s got to be a way to abuse this, but even if I double all my Worth, I¡¯m still stuck at thirty-four. Only nine-hundred and sixty-six away from the goal, and however many Worth thresholds are in between.¡±

    I line one coin back up on my nail. I have one more idea I want to try, and if it works, it could mean almost guaranteed success. It was a simple trick I¡¯d learned from my grandma a long time ago, and it had been good enough that I always ended up choosing where to go for supper when my family argued about it.

    The skill description only said ¡®if you are caught cheating¡¯, after all.

    With a glassy ¡®ping¡¯, I flip the coin straight up into the air. It spins multiple times before it falls back down, and I snatch it out of the air before it can fall to the sand below. Then, without looking, I press it to the back of my other hand. The tingling sensation never goes away throughout the entire ordeal.

    Carefully and without making any unnecessary movements, I press my palm against the back of the coin.

    ¡°Heads.¡±

    I peel my fingers away. The coin shimmers with a golden aura for a split second, and the single tally mark that I revealed to the world gains a luminescent twin.

    A grin splits my face, only diminished by the fact that I¡¯m still pretty damn poor.

    ¡°Oh, I can take advantage of this.¡±

    The coin flickers once, then disappears. A pang of fear lances through my heart, but the message that follows sets me at ease.

    Tutorial period expired.

    All unspent Worth reclaimed.

    I spend the next few minutes figuring out how to turn my Worth into physical coins. The search starts at the stat screen and ends at the ¡®information¡¯ screen. It¡¯s like a combination help screen, options menu, and library for everything I¡¯ve spent Worth identifying. After reading through a bunch of system garbage for situations I can¡¯t even start to make sense of, I find a very short list of commands.

    ¡°Deposit, Withdraw, Confirm, Cancel.¡± I read with a nod. ¡°The last two are probably for the purchases the system alluded to. So I don¡¯t have to worry about them.¡±

    I hold out my hand, palm-up.

    ¡°Withdraw.¡±

    A tiny twinge responds from somewhere in my stomach, but it could just as easily be the first inklings of hunger.

    ¡°Uh¡­ Withdraw five Worth?¡±

    Another twinge, this time a little stronger. But still not quite there, as is made obvious by the lack of coins in my palm. I think back to the spell tutorial¡¯s exact wording and find my answer there.

    ¡°Withdraw five glass lones.¡±

    The twinge dissipates as five glass coins drop into my palm. I sigh in relief and tab over to my stats. Yes, indeed, my Worth has gone down by five. So that number is actually my Liquid Worth, and the one on the Class Card itself is my Net Worth. There¡¯s probably some kind of trick here that I can¡¯t think of, but nothing comes to mind at the moment.

    So I shake off the feeling and get to flipping coins. One by one I rig the outcomes, and one by one they double their values. It almost feels like cheating¨Cwell, it kind of is cheating¨Cbut it¡¯s not like I¡¯m scamming anyone out of their money. Just the nebulous concept of an almighty system that might end up killing me in two weeks.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Hard to feel guilty about that.

    ¡°Well, now I have a guaranteed thirty-four Worth. And one corpse.¡± I sigh and shake my head. ¡°Shit. Really feels like I haven¡¯t made any progress.¡±

    ¡­Wait. If I can make purchases with my Worth, that has to mean I can sell things for Worth. I couldn¡¯t find anything like a store in the part of the system I¡¯ve got access to, so there¡¯s got to be someplace I can make those purchases. Not that it¡¯s anywhere close, if the empty horizon¡¯s any indicator.

    But it means I¡¯ve got a goal. More like a glimmer of hope, actually. I bend down and press my hand against the shark-dog¡¯s skin, then touch one of the empty inventory squares with the other.

    ¡°Deposit.¡±

    Another tingle. I roll my eyes and sigh.

    ¡°Deposit shark-dog, you hyper-specific prick.¡±

    A gold-tinged film spreads over the shark-dog from where my fingertips touch it, coating the entire thing in less than a second. It flashes bright gold, then disappears and reappears as a simple 2-D picture in my Class Card.

    Young Great White Dane corpse stored.

    Predicted Worth: 31.

    If untreated, it will begin to decompose in (63.5) hours.

    Of course the system doesn¡¯t keep things fresh. That¡¯d just be waaay too easy. And the news that I¡¯ll have to kill over thirty of these things if I want to meet the thousand Worth goal really doesn¡¯t help my mood.

    ¡°No map, no hints, no nothing.¡± I mutter to myself as I collapse the Class Card and dismiss it. ¡°I wonder if I can use Twisting Fate to find the right direction to walk. ¡®Likely outcome¡¯ can¡¯t be too strict, right?¡±

    I take a breath and look out over the sea of sand. ¡°All I¡¯ve gotta do is figure out how to use it.¡±

    <hr>

    Hours pass in frustration. No matter what I try, I can¡¯t get the skill to trigger. Flipping a coin to decide where I want to go¨Cno trigger. Drawing a half-circle in the sand and dropping a coin? Nope, no trigger. Spinning randomly and stopping just as randomly?

    You guessed it, no trigger.

    By the time I give up and lie down for the night, I¡¯m more confused than anything. As I lie on the sand, backpack under my head as a pillow, I finally get a chance to just stare up at the sky and contemplate what could be going wrong.

    The first thing that comes to mind is that it¡¯s way too complicated. If the place I¡¯m aiming for is hundreds of miles away, then there are thousands of ¡®wrong¡¯ paths to take. Meaning the one ¡®right¡¯ path is so unlikely that my skill can¡¯t trigger to bring it into reality.

    But even when I tossed a coin to decide between two directions, it still didn¡¯t trigger. Did that mean both ways were wrong, so there wasn¡¯t a right option? Or were both equally right, and there¡¯s not a set place I¡¯m supposed to be aiming for yet? The destination might not have spawned yet, for all I know. Or it¡¯s somewhere that¡¯s completely inaccessible to me¨Clike over the water¨Cand something¡¯ll show up when it¡¯s time to go.

    I pull out my Class Card just to make sure I definitely have a use of my skill left, then sigh and put it away. Whatever¡¯s making the skill not work is damn consistent, I¡¯ll give it that.

    ¡°I know I¡¯m missing something. Probably more than one thing, honestly.¡±

    I set my arm under my makeshift pillow and roll over on my side. The temperature¡¯s still absolutely perfect¨Cwhich is really weird, since the sun¡¯s gone down and all¨Cand I don¡¯t even need a blanket to sleep. Parts of this weird world seem like they¡¯re made with the absolute minimum necessary in mind, but everything I¡¯m supposed to work towards feels completely impossible.

    After making the effort to swallow around the lump in my throat, I close my eyes and try to quiet my mind. If there are more shark-dogs out there, there¡¯s a real good chance I¡¯m not waking up in the morning. Or at all, if things go really wrong.

    <hr>

    The light of morning brushes against my eyelids like tiny butterflies punching me straight in the head. I groan in discomfort and shift away from the sun, reaching out with my right arm to grope for my phone slash alarm clock. All I feel is the sort of hard sand before it turns into silky grains between my fingers.

    Right. The whole teleported-to-another-world thing.

    With a mighty effort I roll over and pull myself to my feet. I smack my dry lips and glare down at my backpack, cursing past me for not filling up that filtering water bottle last night after I drained it. But¡­ something¡¯s off.

    There¡¯s a shadow lingering over it. Which should¡¯ve stopped the sunlight from hitting my eyes. I lean in and frown at the thing, but even though the shadow should be over my face, the sunlight directly impacts my eyes. Sunlight that¡¯s coming from literally every direction, which should¡¯ve stopped a shadow from forming in the first place.

    ¡°What the hell is up with this place?¡± I mutter as I look out over the horizon. A band of light surrounds everywhere I can see, almost like the sun is rising from literally every direction at the same time.

    It definitely wasn¡¯t like that yesterday. And¡­ uh, all those things casting shadows weren¡¯t there either.

    Massive walls snake through the beach and into the water, dipping below the sea level and disappearing shortly after. They¡¯re decorated like I¡¯d expect a designer sandcastle to be¨C shells, beach glass, brightly coloured rocks, and more than a few ghost quarters create an intricate pattern that gives off a sense of majesty.

    Majesty that¡¯s completely blocked me in from all sides, but which only creates a shadow from exactly one point. A single dark blue shovel, placed atop one of the walls like a flag, that glimmers in the morning light like a shining sapphire.

    It takes a little longer than is probably healthy for me to realize that I¡¯m seeing both the walls and the horizon at the same time, which is simply not possible. As my mind comes to terms with the paradoxical display, the walls collapse into nothing. The shovel falls with them, but right before it sinks into the ground below, it gleams orange-ish yellow for the shortest of split seconds.

    The same colour as my Fate stat.

    I blink and rub my eyes, then wince and try to blink out the sand I just put there. ¡°Did I just miss my first Fate event?¡±

    Something tells me that yes, I did just miss it. Another much larger part of me asks where the hell the walls and shovel came from in the first place. Did they protect me while I slept? Were they actually real, or some kind of magical illusion? And if I¡¯d had a high enough Fate stat, could I have kept the shovel for myself?

    ¡°Maybe Fate isn¡¯t such a dump stat.¡±

    I pick up my backpack, brush the sand off of it, and prepare myself for another long day of hiking through nothing. My feet sink into the sand with the next step I take, reminding me how much worse the terrain is when the sand doesn¡¯t harden under my feet.

    Fifty-something hours to find a place to sell the shark-dog. I can¡¯t imagine it being anywhere close to enough time, but it¡¯s what I have to work with.

    Something rumbles from deep below my feet. It slowly works its way up my legs until even my teeth are chattering. I look all around for the source of the disturbance, but there¡¯s nothing to be seen. The sand is still, the water doesn¡¯t have so much as a ripple, and absolutely nothing is making a sound.

    But the rumbling doesn¡¯t stop. If anything, it grows stronger and stronger as I start awkwardly jogging away. The sand slows every single step I take, drawing me in slightly deeper and sucking my foot in when I try to pull it out. It¡¯s almost a full-body workout just to take a dozen steps, and the latent panic that¡¯s starting to set in isn¡¯t doing my rapidly rising blood pressure any favors.

    Pull out foot. Struggle to keep the one planted from falling any deeper into the sand. Plant foot on sand, then pull the one stuck in deep out as quickly as possible. Every repetition of the pattern exhausts me incomprehensibly quickly, and even though no threat¡¯s shown itself, my mind and body are telling me to get the hell away from where I slept for the night.

    Slowly but surely, I run out of fuel. My breaths come as ragged gasps through a throat that feels like it¡¯s been swallowing glass with every inhale. I slow down unwillingly, fumbling through a roaring heartbeat and trembling fingers to fill up my filter bottle and grab an energy bar. The cap twists off awkwardly, and I fumble with the filtering mechanism to get it to let the water inside of the bottle.

    ¡°Come on, come on.¡± I hiss through chattering teeth with a look back at absolutely nothing. My imagination¡¯s doing far worse than anything real could ever hope to be. ¡°I know I¡¯ve been putting off going to the gym for the past few¡­ years. God, it¡¯s really been years.¡±

    I cap my bottle as quickly as my shaking hands can manage and stuff it into my backpack. The energy bar finds itself between my teeth, and I scramble to my feet to resume the plodding escape from whatever¡¯s shaking the earth.

    Before I can take another step, a porcelain white shard erupts through the sand. It¡¯s spiraled and matte like a sharp seashell, with tiny cracks inside that show a gleaming mother of pearl interior that¡¯s been tinted black.

    It isn¡¯t alone.

    Two by two, the shard is joined by more just like it. They close off a ring about ten feet away from me in all directions that moves as I do, then start shining a silvery-black that seems to bleed out from the interior of the spikes. Everything inside of me screams to get out of the ring. It promises that if I let them go completely black, then I won''t have to worry about the shark-dog decomposing.

    Because I¡¯ll be rotting right along with it.

    With shaking hands I call my class card and pull out a handful of ghost quarters. The rumbling grows to a fever pitch, shaking me so hard it feels like my muscles are detaching from my bones. The dark sheen spiraling up the spikes is almost at the tippy top. I¡¯ll only get one shot at this, and I¡¯m not even sure if it¡¯ll work.

    I clench my teeth to stop them from chattering and flick a ghost quarter less than an inch into the air, then slap it down on the back of my hand.

    ¡°Heads.¡±

    It shines through my skin, doubling its value to a meager one Worth.

 Chapter 5: Welcome To Level One

    Shield courses down my shoulder and into the ghost quarter. I push off with one foot as best as I can, then toss the coin at the ground between me and whatever¡¯s about to eat me whole. It blinks twice before spreading into a barrier of magical energy that I really hope can support my weight.

    My foot slams down on it, sending hairline cracks through the projection. They spread quickly, but not fast enough that I can¡¯t do anything about it. Two more coins fly off my thumb, one higher than the other, and I slam them against the back of my hand with barely a thought at the sensations that allow me to call them right.

    ¡°Heads, tails!¡± I say in succession, then send two more shields into the coins. I toss one of them away without a second thought.

    It flies a handful of feet before crackling to live in midair, just out of reach of the thing¡¯s ¡®teeth¡¯. I push off the shield as hard as possible, feel it shatter into nothing with the newfound pressure, and stumble onto the shield with the grace of a figure-skating walrus. It crashes into my stomach hard enough to steal my breath away, and the utter disorientation is almost enough to send me to an early grave.

    Almost. I grit my teeth and toss another ghost quarter a few more feet away, clamber to my knees as my shield underfoot begins to crumble away, and launch myself to the next one. I land with a little more grace than the last one, but still end up flailing wildly to keep myself from falling.

    Only then do I allow myself a glance back. Unlike a few seconds ago, the ring of teeth isn¡¯t moving with me. It¡¯s stopped exactly where I left my last set of footprints.

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s sandworm rules.¡± I say to myself as I flip all the other ghost quarters, then use one of them to send another shield platform a few feet away. ¡°But what did I do to draw it to me?¡±

    It definitely would¡¯ve gotten me in my sleep, since I¡¯m the kind of sleeper that can¡¯t stop tossing and turning. And I moved quite a lot last night after the message told me I wasn¡¯t in the safe zone any more. So it had to be something I did today¨Ceither to trigger the rumbling, or during the rumbling to draw what I assume is a sandworm directly to me.

    I try to theorize multiple different options, but my mind is inexorably drawn back to the image of that sapphire shovel falling into the sand. Even if that isn¡¯t what triggered the thing under the sand, it had to be part of it.

    Just as I¡¯m about to ready another coin, the sand below ripples outward like stone striking a pond. I frown down at it and send out another shield to step to, then watch the strange ring of shards as it does absolutely nothing. For a whole thirty seconds and two more ghost quarters worth of shields.

    Then another thirty seconds. And another. Slowly but surely, the thing is going to run me out of coins. So¡­ why isn¡¯t it doing anything?

    ¡°Sandworm rules.¡± I mutter as I toss a ghost quarter into the circle.

    It sails safely over the shards, then impacts softly on the sand inside. All the collected black in the seashell-like shards explodes forth, creating a pillar of absurd magical power that shoves a horrific gust of rotten wind over me and throws me off my shield platform. I yelp in surprise as I go head over heels a few times, sand getting in my hair and hard impacts already starting to sting my wrists and ankles.

    I stupidly tried to catch myself with every impact, and now that I¡¯m sitting flat on my ass, I really wish I hadn¡¯t. Because there¡¯s a huge-ass hole in the beach where the shell-spikes had been a second ago, and a lot of glassy sand surrounding it. Wisps of silver-tinted energy dissipate in the wind, as if reminding me that the thing from a second ago wasn¡¯t a horrible dream.

    My breaths come faster and faster as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

    ¡°Holy shit, that could¡¯ve been me.¡±

    And it could still be me, if I don¡¯t get off my ass and run¡­ to¡­ I look around in desperation for any kind of high ground. A rock. A tree. Just¡­ something. But there¡¯s absolutely nothing at all. The sand was my safe space from whatever dangers lurk in the water, but now they¡¯re two different flavours of damned.

    So¡­ maybe I just can¡¯t move at all. Maybe I have to stay here for two weeks. The ¡®Arrive at the exit location¡¯ part of the clear conditions could¡¯ve been put there just to get me to move. To trick me into leaving safety. It seems like something a tutorial would do to get a rise out of me, but it also seems¡­ way too dickish.

    I wince and slowly get to my feet. The yawning pit stares at me as the last of the power dies out. Taking a quick peek to see if there¡¯s anything at the bottom can¡¯t be too dangerous now, right? The sand¡¯s stopped shaking and I haven¡¯t gotten any warning notifications. That has to mean something.

    Right?

    ¡°Yeah. Right.¡± I tell myself as my curiosity wins out. My reluctance is still there, yelling at me to run as far and as fast as I can, but I ignore it with a dose of half-assed survival logic.

    If the thing¡¯s going to kill me, it doesn¡¯t matter if I¡¯m here or ten miles away. I¡¯ve already seen that it can follow me from what I¡¯m assuming are vibrations alone, so I might as well not stress the joints I just battered and abused in the fall.

    I gulp and lean in as the edge of the pit gets ever closer. The sand all around it looks like it¡¯s been flash fired into a five-inch wide glass rim. It¡¯s been tinted black and silver with power, but only little remnants. Another reminder of the thing¡¯s destructive power.

    I lean in closer as my heart beats faster and my stomach threatens to jump into my throat. Then I just keep looking down. And down. And¡­ down. So far down that the daylight turns to pure darkness, and I can¡¯t even get an idea of how deep it actually goes.

    Optional Quest Received: Investigate the Dark Below.

    Potential Rewards: 300 Worth, ????, and ????.

    To accept this quest, jump down.

    ¡°Nope. No way. Hell no. Well¡­ I mean¡­ maybe if I have more ghost quarters¡­¡± I pause and glance down at the tiny holes around me in the sand, then shake my head. ¡°Who the hell am I kidding¨Cthis is literally the only hint I¡¯ve gotten so far. The smart thing is to mark this place, explore the beach for a few days, and come back to it later.¡±

    Quest acceptance window expires in: 0:59:13.

    If you reject this quest, all future offerings of it will also be rejected.

    ¡­Or not. Looks like I¡¯ve got an hour to get my hands on as many ghost quarters as my inventory can carry.

    <hr>

    I pull open my class card to check the time. Less than a minute.

    ¡°Cutting it real close here.¡± I sigh and close my card. ¡°Gotta make a choice right now.¡±

    All the ghost quarters are taking up way too much space in my inventory since I just found out they only stack to 50 per space, and that both the doubled and normal ones count as different things. 215 in total, fourty of which I pre-doubled. I¡¯ve only got two free slots left, but the ghost quarters have so little real value that I¡¯m not worried about tossing a few stacks if the need arises.

    Sure, I probably could¡¯ve dumped a bunch in my backpack, but it¡¯s easier to get them out of my card. I can almost do it with just my mind, but I¡¯m not quite there yet.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    I count down in my head and bite my lip. Eight seconds left. If I¡¯m going to do this, this is the absolute last chance.

    ¡°Screw it.¡±

    I snap an empowered ghost quarter filled with Shield into the hole, then jump down on top of it. A pale grey barrier stops me from plummeting into the depths, but the moment I shift even slightly, it starts to crack. After a few tense seconds the thing seems holds my weight well enough, but that doesn¡¯t stop me from already tossing another ghost quarter a few feet lower and starting to drop down to it.

    Quest Accepted: What Lies Below.

    Something exists underneath the Seasky Shores.

    It will continue hunting you at daybreak, growing in intensity every day unless you deal with it.

    Objective: Identify, Locate, and Defeat the unknown monster.

    Rewards: 300 Worth, two Stat Coins, and ????.

    The light instantly blinks out above me. The glassy edges of the hole start to glow an eerie silver, basking everything in an ethereal light. It¡¯s almost like the rest of the world doesn¡¯t exist anymore¨Cjust me and the unfathomable depths.

    ¡°At least the rewards are good. Even if one of them¡¯s still a bunch of question marks.¡± I shakily tell myself. ¡°That one¡¯s gotta be good, right?¡±

    For a terrifyingly long time, the only sound is the crunch of ghost quarters and my own drawn-out breaths of effort. It doesn¡¯t seem right, but every time I use a new shield, it feels like it¡¯s a little more¡­ real than the last. Stronger. More stable. What lasted a few seconds at most and cracked under my weight slowly becomes a stable platform that clearly tells me how long it¡¯s got by how the colour drains out of it.

    Thirty-two ghost quarters spent. My lips taste slightly of blood, and my mind pounds with encroaching dread. I wipe a cold sweat from my brow and glance up, but there¡¯s absolutely nothing to see. The glassy hole only glows twenty feet above and below me, with the rest being complete darkness.

    I gulp and shake my head to rid myself of my worries. It doesn¡¯t really work, but I don¡¯t have the freedom to dwell on possibilities. All I can do is keep going down.

    <hr>

    Seventy-two ghost quarters down. Freezing cold water spills over my tongue, bringing as much relief as it can given the situation. The shield under my feet is almost completely solid, cracking only slightly every second. As long as I don¡¯t hit it in one place the thing can hold me for upwards of four minutes. Nowhere near long enough to actually catch my breath, but compared to the thirty second scramble it had been at the start?

    I shake my head and laugh quietly.

    ¡°A hundred and fifty-ish more ghost quarters left.¡± I whisper. ¡°If I run out¡­¡±

    The sentence goes unfinished, but the sentiment lingers like smoke on a windless day. I take one last draw from my bottle and fish out an energy bar. If I¡¯m going to fall to my death, I¡¯m going to make the most inconvenient splat as possible.

    <hr>

    Spell ¡®Shield¡¯ efficiency and strength at maximum.

    ¡®Shield¡¯ mastered¨Cevolutions available for purchase.

    All details of spell available, though some may be hidden due to insufficient Mind.

    I lean against the side of the hole and stare at the notification that had popped up with my latest cast. Shield had definitely been getting stronger with every cast¨CI could feel it¨Cbut there hadn¡¯t been any popups telling me that. Maybe the spell only has one level, but as I cast it, the experience gained from casting it makes it more powerful. Or maybe it doesn¡¯t have levels at all, and I was the one who had to get used to casting it.

    Either way, I¡¯ve got a little distraction to check out for a few minutes. I pull out my Class Card and tab over to my spells, and instantly, I notice a difference. Where ¡®Projectile¡¯ is written in dull grey, ¡®Shield¡¯ shimmers like molten gold¨Cand there¡¯s a little star on both sides of its name.

    *Shield*

    Create a flat barrier of magical energy that suspends itself in place. It shatters when it takes enough damage, ending the spell. If used by a spellcasting _________ ________ ___ ____________. If cast using Worth, can only be used with coins of value 1-5.

    ¡°I already know pretty much all of this, but knowing that I couldn¡¯t use this thing with ghost quarters without my skill is scary.¡± I say as I scroll down, looking for more info. There isn¡¯t any. ¡°At least it had the decency to blank out the stuff it¡¯s hiding from me. I¡­ wait, what?¡±

    The name of the spell slowly turns from molten gold to completely solid. A thin pearlescent outline stretches over it, and suddenly, the description changes.

    Defensive Evolution: Towering Shield. Cost: 15 Worth.

    Offensive Evolution: Bloodied Shield. Cost: 20 Worth.

    Hybrid Evolution: Rampart Shield. Cost: 40 Worth.

    Trade Off Evolution: Coinbound Shield. Cost: 1 Worth.

    Two of those options are pretty damn obvious, even if pressing on them only brings up garbled redacted text. Towering shield probably makes my shields bigger and more resilient. Bloodied shield is a little more abstract, but it brings up an image of a bladed shield¨Cor one with massive spikes. It probably lets me move it around more, too.

    The other two, though¡­.

    ¡°Rampart shield costs 40, which is equal to Bloodied plus Towering¡¯s cost. So it¡¯s probably a combination of the two, but maybe a little weaker because it¡¯s more flexible? Or maybe not, since Worth¡¯s so valuable.¡±

    I drum my fingers against my forearm as I stare at the last one. It literally costs one Worth. And it calls itself a ¡®trade off¡¯. That¡¯s the kind of thing that screams ¡®trap¡¯ at you with enough spittle to drown a fish. Unfortunately, it¡¯s also written in a different colour than the other three. The colour of Fate.

    ¡°Maybe once I hit solid ground, but not while I¡¯m still falling.¡± I tell myself, even though I know damn well I¡¯m going to pick the trade off evolution.

    I stretch with a groan of effort, then pull out another handful of flipped ghost quarters to continue my descent.

    <hr>

    Clink.

    The ghost quarter I¡¯d just thrown bounces off something, skitters a few inches away, and blossoms into a shield. I stare at it for a few seconds, not quite processing what it actually means.

    The bottom.

    I bite back my excitement and tentatively lower one foot. The shield I¡¯m on cracks just a little from the uneven weight. Then I feel it. Solid ground. I burst into a smile and let go all at once, letting my feet hit the ground with a hollow reverberation that travels up my legs and dies out in my knees.

    All at once, a section of the darkness disappears. Dim firelight flickers from down a roughly hewn tunnel that¡¯s barely an inch taller than I am with grains of sand filtering down from above to pool on the ground like the drippings of condensation.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s an invitation if I¡¯ve ever seen one.¡±

    I place my hand on the side of the tunnel and step into it without hesitation. It¡¯s much rougher to the touch¨Clike actual stone¨Cbut it¡¯s also a little too warm. Like putting on gloves that someone else has been wearing for hours.

    I quickly pull open my Class Card while I¡¯ve got a second of respite and press on the ¡®coinbound shield¡¯ evolution. The system takes one Worth for its troubles, and in a flash, the name of my spell changes. And goes right back to being a dull grey colour with no real explanation.

    ¡°Okay, so Mind is a lot more important than I thought.¡± I say as I put away my card. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll focus on that right after Fate.¡±

    The claustrophobic tunnel slowly bleeds out into a slightly larger one. I find myself clenching a ghost quarter between each of my fingers, shield and projectile at the tip of my mind for whatever decides to jump out and attack me.

    After minutes of walking, nothing does. The tunnel breaches into a chamber the size of a hotel lobby with glassy rubble haphazardly strewn about. Slash marks and web-like impact cracks litter the entire place, giving off a vibe that some massive battle took place a while ago.

    I bend down and inspect a piece of wood that looks exactly like driftwood, but that has somehow been cut into a perfect plank. Well, it would¡¯ve been a perfect plank before something splintered half of it. Nothing¡¯s rotting yet, though, so¡­ maybe that means it¡¯s new-ish?

    ¡°Hey, is something there?¡±

    A quiet, almost scared voice cuts through the silence. I stay statue still, holding even my breath as little creaking noises come from across the cavern. Slowly and carefully I turn my head to face the source, then knit my eyebrows into a confused frown.

    One thing somehow managed to escape the destruction¨Ca tiny stand, like one of those roadside fruit vendors, made completely out of driftwood and fastened together with tiny seashell shards. There¡¯s a sign on top that¡¯s written in a language I can¡¯t understand, but I can definitely understand the large ¡®W¡¯ with a line through it at the very end. There¡¯s a little damage underneath the ¡®W¡¯, but otherwise, it¡¯s completely pristine.

    Where the things to sell would be placed instead lies a single strange, small seashell. It looks like a combination between a nautilus shell, a crown of thorns starfish, and one of those old clockwork gears. To top it all off, it shimmers terrifyingly similarly to the shell-shards that almost obliterated me an hour ago. A shiver runs down my spine as the quiet voice makes a little noise as if it was clearing its throat, coming unquestionably from the shell.

    ¡°Um¡­ are you ignoring me? Or did I imagine you? ¡­Oh, I hope I¡¯m not hallucinating again.¡±

 Chapter 6: Quest For Sale: Shell Included

    I don¡¯t know how to deal with this. So I slowly pull open my Class Card to see if it can deal with it instead.

    ¡°Identify.¡± I whisper, completely focused on the shell.

    Identification failed due to protective magics around the target.

    ¡°Hello? I just felt you trying to do something to me!¡± The voice calls out a little more desperately now. ¡°Please! I can¡¯t stand being alone any more!¡±

    I wince and close my Class Card. If a little shell has protection magic cast on it, then I don¡¯t want anything to do with¨C

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a spell! People still like spells, right?!¡±

    Okay, maybe it isn¡¯t that bad. I ready my ghost quarters and carefully tiptoe around all the debris, stepping lightly to avoid making a single sound as the little voice lets out quiet lonely sobs. Honestly, now I just feel bad for the poor thing. And if that¡¯s the system¡¯s way of getting me to run myself into a trap, then tugging on my heartstrings is a damn good way of doing it.

    ¡°...Hey there.¡±

    The shell gasps hopefully. ¡°Hi! Are you real?! Please tell me you¡¯re real.¡±

    I smile and lean down a little. ¡°As real as real can get. So what¡¯s the deal? Are you part of the quest, or are you going to turn me into swiss cheese with some horrific black laser beams?¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know what swiss cheese is, but I can¡¯t shoot any laser beams! Not right now, at least.¡± The voice says chipperly, as if it¡¯s a good thing it can¡¯t shoot lasers. ¡°Oh, I promised you a spell, didn¡¯t I? Um¡­ there¡¯s a little problem with that, considering that I¡¯m kind of¡­ trapped here? PLEASE DON¡¯T LEAVE!¡±

    I flinch back at the sudden desperate outburst. ¡°I¡¯m still here. You really can¡¯t see me, huh?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t do anything. Except talk and hear, obviously. But moving, seeing, tasting, smelling, and¡­ um¡­ everything else is impossible right now. Since I¡¯m sealed here. As a¡­ quest item.¡±

    The little shell shivers a little as it says that. The way it said ¡®quest item¡¯ makes it sound like it¡¯s some kind of horrific punishment, but for me, that¡¯s probably the single most convincing argument it could¡¯ve made.

    ¡°Do you know what quest you¡¯re a part of?¡±

    A tiny sigh escapes the shell. ¡°I wish I knew. But I don¡¯t have access to one of those fancy system access cards. But hey, you probably do! Just¡­ accept whatever quest pops up when you try to pick me up!¡±

    Sound logic. But the state of the cavern warns me against accepting the quest. There has to be a reason this little shell is the only¡­ survivor? Wait. Are there even any other shells around here? Or any life at all?

    Or it¡¯s only here as a part of a quest, and there¡¯s no logic to why this place looks the way it does.

    ¡°Um, did you leave? Did I scare you off?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Needy little thing, aren¡¯t you.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Um. I¡¯m sorry.¡± The shell meekly apologizes. ¡°I¡¯ll be quiet.¡±

    That¡¯s not what I was trying to get at, but I also don¡¯t feel like explaining myself. I press on my back and stand up straight with a grunt, then pull out a coin and roll it through my fingers. There¡¯s a whole lot of rubble here to sift through. Maybe it¡¯ll give me some clues before I go triggering a quest that may or may not have a time limit.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to go look around.¡± I feel the need to tell the shell as I walk over to the wooden rubble. ¡°Do you know what this place looks like?¡±

    A soft, melodic hum escapes the shell. ¡°The last time I saw anything, it was a pretty beautiful underground market. We didn¡¯t really have any customers, since we were¡­ you know¡­¡±

    I lift a board with similar writing to the one above the stand. ¡°Underground?¡±

    ¡°Yes. But¡­ also¡­ um¡­ we were kind of¡­¡± The shell trails off awkwardly. ¡°Isolated? And not just in the physical sense. We were really strong, so we didn¡¯t really need customers. Most of this was just for us.¡±

    The thought of an army of little shells peddling their beachside wares while thinking they were absolute powerhouses brings a smile to my face. I brush aside some splintered driftwood, then pause as a glimmer of pearlescence catches my eye. Another nautilus-like shell splintered against the hard glass floor. Shards of it are caught in a splatter of hardened black substance, and my imagination fills in the blanks.

    Now that I know what I¡¯m looking for, I find it everywhere. The little shell keeps talking, making excuses and spinning tales about how it was actually powerful at some point, but all I can focus on is the destruction. Something destroyed this place¨Cthere¡¯s no doubt about it. And it happened after the shell was turned into a quest item, which somehow saved it from getting caught up in the crossfire.

    Or it was the crossfire.

    ¡°Hey, shell-thing. Everything¡¯s destroyed.¡±

    It abruptly stops talking. ¡°...Everything? How much is everything?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s kind of hard to say, but if I had to guess¡­¡± I look around with a grimace. ¡°Looks like an entire market was destroyed. Including everyone that ran it.¡±

    ¡°...No.¡± The shell says quietly. ¡°You can¡¯t be telling the truth. Everyone¡­ everything¡­ how long have I been stuck here? Why couldn¡¯t I hear anything? What¡­¡± It¡¯s voice catches with emotion. ¡°What happened to them?¡±

    I gently set down the rubble and walk back to the tiny stand. Whatever hesitation I had, it¡¯s gone now. Looks like this little thing¡¯s the last of its friends¨Cand honestly, I can¡¯t stand how sad it sounds.

    My hand gently brushes against the shell. It¡¯s horrifically hard to the touch, almost like what I¡¯d imagine dragon scales to feel like, yet it¡¯s also comfortingly warm. I can feel something trembling deep inside, and when the shell speaks, its voice echoes through my body as much as it hits my ears.

    ¡°Is there anything left?¡±

    ¡°Only your stand. Probably because you¡¯re a quest item. Tell me how to accept your quest.¡±

    The shell lets out a quiet breath of relief tinged with sadness. ¡°Thank you, whoever you are.¡±

    Quest Item: Shellraiser.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Part of Quest: ?????.

    Required Clearance to initiate quest: ?????.

    Clearance requirement nullified due to item¡¯s intervention. Quest details obscured until required Clearance is obtained.

    Purchase the Shellraiser?

    ¡°Shellraiser.¡± I repeat, testing the words for myself. ¡°Is that your name, or is it your species?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a Shellraiser. My name is Pearlescence of the Fathomless Depths.¡± The shellraiser offers eagerly. ¡°But you can call me Pearl!¡±

    I was going to call it Pearl anyway, but I guess it¡¯s good to get permission.

    ¡°Well, good to meet you, Pearl. I¡¯m Shelby, and I guess we¡¯re going to be traveling together for a little while.¡±

    Golden energy flows from my fingertips onto Pearl¡¯s shell as she¨CI think she¡¯s a she¨Cgiggles happily. It mixes with her shell, overtaking the silvery bits and painting her a completely new colour. From the way she squeals excitedly, I don¡¯t think she minds one bit.

    I raise my hand and open my Class Card to check what I¡¯ve just obtained. Except there¡¯s nothing there. I frown and look around the screen at Pearl, who is making little patient noises as I work.

    ¡°Pearl, is there anything else I have to do to purch¡­ ah, shit.¡± I mutter and look up at the sign. ¡°I need to buy you to actually get you out of here, and I can¡¯t read this sign at all.¡±

    ¡°Maybe if you can describe what it looks like, then I can try to help?¡±

    That sounds like a good enough idea to me. I study the sign for a second, make sure I¡¯m seeing things right, and breathe in. ¡°The first symbol looks like two triangles underlined by a bumpy line. The one closest to the left has two dots inside of it, and the second one has four.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Is there any line on top of it?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a line with an arrow on either side between the two triangles pointing at each other.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought. If you described it right, that one means ¡®trade¡¯. There¡¯s a little more significance to it, but you¡¯re not here for a lesson in linguistics.¡± Pearl giggles. ¡°How many other symbols are there?¡±

    ¡°Two.¡± I say with a glance at the last one. ¡°But I''m pretty sure I get what the last one means. It¡¯s a ¡®W¡¯ with a line slashed through it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that one¡¯s easy. It means you can¡¯t use Worth to pay for me.¡± Pearl says, confirming my suspicions. ¡°Well, it means you can¡¯t use Worth to pay for anything sold here, but I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s only me. Unless there¡¯s other stuff here?¡±

    ¡°Nope, just you and one more symbol between ¡®trade¡¯ and ¡®doesn¡¯t accept Worth¡¯. It¡¯s two vertical lines, then three spiral-y things like someone drew wind blowing, and another two vertical lines after it. And all of it¡¯s sandwiched between two slightly curved lines.¡±

    Pearl doesn¡¯t answer right away. I give her a few seconds, but the only sounds she makes are little hums.

    ¡°Um, sorry, but what direction are the spiral-y things facing?¡±

    ¡°Two to the right, one to the left.¡±

    ¡°...Oh. Okay. I¡­ don¡¯t know what that one means. Usually things caught between two curved lines means that it¡¯s an expression, but closing off the contents with two vertical lines on either side tells me that I¡¯m supposed to take it literally¡­¡± She trails off with a ¡®humpf¡¯ of thought. ¡°Whoever wrote this definitely doesn¡¯t know our language. Or if they do know it, they definitely don¡¯t know it very well.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at that. ¡°Does that mean the system didn¡¯t write it?¡±

    ¡°Probably not, no. That should mean that it doesn¡¯t hold any power over the quest¡­ unless it was written with a mistake on purpose for some reason?¡± She theorizes. ¡°Something I have to take literally, but that¡¯s also an expression¡­ and with two travel symbols counteracted with one return symbol¡­¡±

    She makes a cute little frustrated noise, then sighs.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what it¡¯s supposed to mean, sorry. Purely reading the symbols without any of the context would say ¡®for trade: travels and return. No Worth accepted¡¯, but that doesn¡¯t make sense. Since¡­ I¡¯m the thing ¡®for trade¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Travels and return, huh.¡±

    I look down at the ghost quarter I haven¡¯t stopped playing with and knit my brows together in thought. There are two possibilities for the badly written sign¨Ceither the system miswrote it on purpose, or something else with a simpler understanding of the shellraiser language wrote it after Pearl got stuck here.

    Except the second option doesn¡¯t make sense, since she wouldn¡¯t be bound to the rules of the sign if something other than the system wrote it. I cross my arms and tap my foot as I stare at it, trying to glean some new understanding from the completely pristine thing. Well¡­ almost pristine. There¡¯s still that little bit of damage under the ¡®W¡¯, and I can almost make out a little bit of white in the damaged area, but¨C

    Wait. I lean in close and carefully run my finger over the damaged area. A prick of pain causes me to yank it away with a hiss.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Pearl asks worriedly. ¡°Is something attacking us?¡±

    I grimace at the splinter in my fingertip. ¡°Nope, just did something stupid. It might¡¯ve solved our mystery, but it was still pretty damn stupid.¡±

    With a little grunt of pain, I pull the splinter from my finger. I hold the thing up to my eye, and then I see it. A tiny amount of white¨Cbarely anything at all¨Con the broken edge that must¡¯ve ended up facing towards the sign somehow.

    Someone defaced the sign. And they must¡¯ve written in that middle symbol to try and throw whoever came to help Pearl off their tracks. Which means there was another smaller symbol under the ¡®W¡¯, and that the entire sentence was ¡®for trade: no Worth accepted¡¯. I glance down directly underneath the scratched out symbol, and there¡¯s something barely there on the wood.

    A tiny discoloured spot, so completely unrecognizable that I would¡¯ve missed it if I hadn¡¯t been pointed directly at it. There¡¯s a symbol on it that I recognize instantly¨Cit¡¯s the same one on the coin that I¡¯m rolling between my knuckles, after all.

    ¡°Looks like I have to pay in quarters.¡± I chuckle to myself, placing the flipped coin on the symbol. It flashes deep silver, then disappears.

    Price Paid: 1/50.

    ¡°Did it work? Can you buy me?¡± Pearl asks.

    I take almost an entire stack of flipped coins out of my inventory. ¡°I really hope you¡¯re worth more than fifty ghost quarters.¡±

    Pearl huffs as if insulted. ¡°I sure hope I am, too. You can find those things littered about the beach above. All you have to do is avoid the monsters while gathering them.¡±

    ¡°Easier said than done.¡± I mutter to myself as coin after coin disappears on the symbol.

    The last one disappears in a flash of silver that slowly changes to gold. Thin ribbons of light snake out from the stall, wrapping Pearl in a forceful hug that sets her shell shaking. With a mighty ¡®SNAP¡¯ that''s felt and seen as much as heard, Pearl is free.

    Bought, I remind myself. Not free¨Cbought.

    Quest Item Obtained: Pearlescence of the Fathomless Depths.

    As you advance in the connected quest and gain this item¡¯s trust, it gains more effects.

    While equipped, gain +1 to one non-Worth stat. This bonus does not increase the Worth cost to increase the chosen stat.

    Pearl¡¯s shell wiggles a few times, then falls to the glass with a loud crash. I lean in with a hiss, fully expecting to see her shell shattered like all the others, but no. It¡¯s the glass that¡¯s damaged. Her shell looks just as pristine as before¨Chell, maybe even more so.

    ¡°I can move!¡± She announces giddily. ¡°Thank you so, so, SO much! Do you want to be friends?¡±

    I blink away the text over my vision and kneel down next to Pearl. Gaining her trust is one thing, but having something that¡¯s knowledgeable about this world¨Cthat doesn¡¯t cost me Worth¨Cis beyond important.

    ¡°Sounds good to me. I¡¯m hunting a monster that tried to obliterate me this morning¨Cmaybe you can help me out?¡±

    Her shell bobs up and down. ¡°Yeah! It¡¯s probably one of our old guard constructs. Did it have a bunch of shell-like things on it?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ yes, actually. You made a guard construct? That can shoot a massive black magic laser that destroys everything in its path?¡±

    Pearl makes a sound like she¡¯s blowing a raspberry. ¡°Of course I didn¡¯t. That was the work of some really smart engineers and mages. It¡¯s probably still running on auxiliary power after all this time, so we just need to find its source and shut it down! Or they managed to get the perpetual magic machines working while I was sealed away, and in that case, we need to kill it!¡±

    She pauses. ¡°Well, you can¡¯t technically kill a machine, so it¡¯s more like dismantling it. Violently dismantling it into enough pieces so that you can get at its core. But you¡¯ve got a Class Card, so that shouldn¡¯t be a problem for you!¡±

 Chapter 7: On The Trail

    ¡­Right. Yeah. Because I¡¯m totally powerful enough to destroy something like the laser-monster.

    ¡°I need to equip you, Pearl.¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± She shakes a little to inch herself towards me. ¡°Ooh, what kind of bonuses do I give? Am I a weapon? Do you get spells from me?¡±

    I palm her shell with one hand and open my Class Card with the other. ¡°You give me plus one to any stat I want.¡±

    ¡°...And?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± I say with a shrug. ¡°For now at least. It says I¡¯ll get more stuff from you as we advance in your quest.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re weakening me? Wow. They must be really scared of my power.¡± Pearl shakes her head. ¡°So what stat are you choosing? Mind and Body are pretty good for everyone, but¨Cooh, are you a magic class? I used to know a bunch of spells, but I don¡¯t have access to them since I lost everything. B-but I still have the one I promised you!¡±

    The screen flickers once when I bring Pearl close to it. Without me having to say anything at all, an image of her shell appears overlaid on top of the shark-dog¡¯s corpse. I try to move it to an empty square with a flick of my finger, but after she passes over the other white-bordered square, her image stops moving completely.

    I turn my head a little with a frown. ¡°Pearl, how much do you know about all this ¡®Class¡¯ and system stuff?¡±

    ¡°A whole lot! I had to study it to fight it, after all.¡± She says with pride. ¡°Like how it was¨C¡±

    A piercing tone cuts through her voice. I grimace and almost drop her when I raise my hands to my ears, but no matter what I do, I can¡¯t make the noise stop. It drones on and on for what feels like minutes, until it just¡­ stops.

    Mind stat far too low for that information.

    Do not attempt to learn it again.

    You have been warned.

    ¡°Shelby? Are you okay?¡± Pearl asks with concern. ¡°You¡¯re shaking. Was it something I said?¡±

    ¡°Technically, yeah.¡± I groan. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t try to tell me anything about the system. I don¡¯t have the Mind to hear what you just said.¡±

    Pearl hums in thought, but doesn¡¯t say anything else. I take it to mean that she understands, but there¡¯s also a little¡­ something in her voice. Hopefully it¡¯s not malicious, or else I just gave her a way to incapacitate me whenever she wants. Just by freaking speaking.

    It¡¯s not a pleasant thought, so I try not to linger on it too long. I move the shark-dog¡¯s corpse out of the white-bordered square and place the image of Pearl in that specific square, and this time, it takes instantly. A brand new popup obscures my vision in a flash of gold.

    Select the stat you would like to be boosted.

    Body / Mind / Soul / Fate

    I press ¡®Fate¡¯ without a second thought. The text glows gold as the other three stats fade away, then disappears completely a moment later. I look down at my hands, trying to see some kind of actual change. If there is one, I can¡¯t see it.

    ¡°You chose Fate?¡± Pearl says incredulously. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ the one stat that won¡¯t help you fight the machine. You must be really confident in your skills!¡±

    ¡°Nope. Just fully aware that one stat point won¡¯t be enough to make a huge change.¡± I say with a glance down at her shell. ¡°Can you move on your own? Or do you want me to carry you in my backpack?¡±

    ¡°I can easily move on my own, but I have a better idea. A much cooler idea. Just give me a second to get ready.¡±

    Pearl¡¯s shell starts to vibrate. It starts off slow, like the rumble of a car with good suspension on a clean road, but ramps up as quickly as driving off the asphalt and onto the rough. I almost drop her a few times through the ordeal. Actually, to be more accurate, she almost vibrates out of my hand.

    She swivels around so the opening of the shell points towards me. From within I see two pinpricks of colour, shining brightly and intelligently as they grow closer and closer to the open air. A mass of black dotted with tiny bits of every colour imaginable emerges from the inside of the shell, oozes onto my arm, then picks itself up and shapes itself into¡­ something.

    ¡°Hello!¡± Pearl waves an arm-like tendril of goo towards my face. ¡°Now I can just attach myself to your hair, and you won¡¯t even have to worry about me!¡±

    Her ¡®body¡¯ looks slightly gelatinous¨Clike a jellyfish¨Cbut she¡¯s got recognizable facial features and two limbs poking out with her. I gently reach down and poke her back, which gets a little giggle out of her and a swat from an arm-tendril. She feels unfathomably solid compared to what she looks like.

    If I have to compare her to anything, she¡¯s like a wingless fairy mixed with a jellyfish and a JRPG slime. All stuck inside of a seashell and not really constrained to any single shape.

    ¡°What are you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a shellraiser, silly.¡± She giggles. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t worry about me being heavy. I can alter my weight so you don¡¯t even notice me. Upsy-daisy!¡±

    In a blur of motion, Pearl pulls herself up my arm and onto my head. I barely catch a glimpse of the entire action, and before I know it, I feel her seeping into my hair and latching onto the side of my head. I reach up and feel her shell, locked in place right above my ear, and then she¡¯s gone.

    Well, not gone gone, since I can still feel her with my hand, but gone in the sense that she isn¡¯t a burden at all. She weighs nothing, doesn¡¯t pull on my hair, and doesn¡¯t even give off a single sense of touch to my head. It¡¯s honestly a little strange, since I was expecting to have to get used to something. Now I have to get used to not having anything to get used to.

    Which is somehow harder to get used to than having something to get used to. Weird, I know.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m all set!¡± She says, her voice somehow feeding directly into my mind instead of hitting my eardrums. ¡°Do you want the spell now?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Here you go, then!¡±

    A multicoloured glow hits the side of my right eye before my system screen pops up with the notification.

    Spell Learned: Shoreline Risemutation.

    Convert something into its equivalent in; ghost quarters.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Sorry it¡¯s not much, but it¡¯s the only one I can give away right now.¡± Pearl apologizes as I read through the small description. ¡°If you level it up a bunch, I promise it gets really powerful.¡±

    Honestly, I think it¡¯s pretty damn powerful right now. As long as it works the way I want it to. But I¡¯m not willing to spare a single Worth until I know how to actually get more of it, so the spell stays on the ¡®test it out later¡¯ list for now.

    ¡°Quick question; can you see my screen here?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°Good to know.¡±

    I close my Class Card and send it away. That¡¯s one thing done here¨Cand another that I haven¡¯t really made any progress on. The monster¨Cno, the shellraiser construct¨Cis still out there somewhere. I know a little more about it thanks to Pearl, but it¡¯s still nowhere near enough to actually imagine fighting it. Then I¡¯ve got Coinbound Shield to play around with, Projectile to try and evolve, and a rotting corpse that I need to sell.

    Okay, actually looking at it now, it doesn¡¯t seem like I¡¯ve made any headway at all. Just the opposite¨CI¡¯ve actually increased my load of unknowns. With that pleasant thought, I set to exploring the rest of the destroyed trading post for any other clues. Most of it¡¯s just wood, shell bits, and tar-like black substance. The rare other thing looks like it¡¯s just some kind of merchandise that got destroyed instead of sold.

    ¡­Actually, now that I think of it, if that thing was a shellraiser construct, then it would probably leave behind destruction that looked just like this. Shell chunks and all.

    ¡°Pearl, what are your automatons made of?¡±

    ¡°Constructs. They¡¯re constructs, not automatons.¡± She corrects me with a little ¡®tut¡¯ in her voice. ¡°They¡¯re made of glass, shells, and everdriftwood. And magic, obviously. It looks like one of them ran havoc through this place, too.¡±

    No piercing shriek for that information. That¡¯s a good sign.

    ¡°Could one of them have gone rogue and turned you into a quest item?¡±

    She thinks for a second, then shakes her head. Or¡­ gives off the sensation that she¡¯s shaking her head. This whole ¡®directly into my mind¡¯ thing is weird.

    ¡°Definitely not. They don¡¯t have a mind of their own, but someone could have ordered it to do this. That person could¡¯ve turned me into a quest item, but¡­ I don¡¯t know. That seems like the kind of thing you¡¯d have to be super powerful to do.¡±

    ¡°Agreed. Even if I barely know anything about the system, I know it¡¯s barely giving me anything to work with.¡± I sigh as I pull up another batch of ruined lumber. Nothing of note under this pile, either. ¡°Say I needed to get information on the machine, but I can¡¯t get it from you. And there wasn¡¯t another tunnel to go down other than this one. You have any idea where I should go from here?¡±

    Pearl shifts herself a little as a shimmering black stain leaks onto the world around me. It trails along the ground towards a cluster of rubble, then disappears in a flash.

    ¡°Oh, I guess I can¡¯t do that anymore. Did you see the path?¡±

    I nod slowly. ¡°I did. How did you do that?¡±

    ¡°You probably don¡¯t want to know.¡± She giggles. ¡°That¡¯s about all I can do with it right now, though. I used to be able to make them super long¨Cand long lasting, too. But that¡¯s sealed away with everything else.¡±

    ¡°If you say so.¡± I say as I start to follow the path. Even if I¡¯d only seen it for a second, it was seared into my mind like a less painful brand¨Cwarm and itchy and permanently there. It leads me to the largest pile of rubble, with planks that actually look like they¡¯re in good shape, and far more miscellaneous things than the others.

    I sift through the rubble, initially throwing all the wood aside. After five minutes of same-old same-old, flashes of yellow-orange catch my eye through the rubble. I instantly shift my priorities to whatever my Fate stat¡¯s trying to highlight, moving even faster as I work through the ruins.

    A massive chunk of wood that looked like it hadn¡¯t been turned into planks at all falls to the side, revealing below it a row of¡­ twigs? They look just like driftwood, too, but now that the yellow-orange fades away I can see a slight sky blue shimmer around them. Almost like a tiny forcefield. It emanates from the pots they¡¯re planted in, which look like they¡¯re made of the same material as Pearl¡¯s shell.

    ¡°Wow! I can¡¯t believe any saplings survived!¡± Pearl says as I pick one of them up. ¡°You should take them with you. Everdriftwood is great for making¡­ well, almost anything!¡±

    Everdriftwood, huh? Sounds magical. Which probably also means valuable.

    ¡°Sounds good to me. I¡¯ve got some free inventory space thanks to how expensive you were.¡±

    No notifications or quests pop up when I send the first sapling into an open inventory space. Both the pot and the tiny tree go into the same slot, which is a relief, but that relief is short-lived. Each of them takes up a slot on its own, and there¡¯s a total of eight of them that aren¡¯t destroyed or overtaken by dried black tar leaking from one shell or another.

    ¡°...Crap.¡± I mutter, slightly censoring myself for Pearl¡¯s sake. ¡°I¡¯ve got one space reserved for you, one for the shark-dog, and two for the leftover ghost quarters. And I don¡¯t feel like leaving six of these things behind.¡±

    Pearl tilts her head to the side. ¡°You¡¯ve got your backpack. Just put them in there.¡±

    ¡°Yes. And if we run into that machine again, I¡¯ll accidentally destroy all eight of them trying to keep myself alive.¡±

    ¡°No, you won¡¯t.¡± Pearl confidently assures me, but seems to see my hesitance ¡°If you¡¯re that worried about it, throw away the shark-dog and some ghost quarters. Or¡­ buy another inventory space. You can do that with your Class Card, right?¡±

    ¡°Not with sixteen Worth, I can¡¯t.¡± I sigh as I swing my backpack around and start filling it with saplings. At least they¡¯re only the size of my fists put together, or else I wouldn¡¯t have room.

    I heave it over my shoulders once again, it¡¯s new weight throwing me off ever so slightly. I adjust it a dozen times in a few seconds, then give up with a sigh of resignation to carrying my newfound burden. A quick look around confirms no more obvious Fate outlines, and I return to my initial path.

    It leads me a few more feet into the rubble, then stops. A massive pile of wood, seemingly glued together with black tar, blocks me from going any further. I reach down and try to pry a splintered board free from the mass, but a gasp from Pearl stops me dead in my tracks. And a massive shudder from the pile sets me furiously backpedaling.

    ¡°Pearl?! What¡¯s happening?!¡±

    ¡°Um, a monster? I think?¡± She squeaks apologetically. ¡°I guess all the dead people sort of¡­ um¡­ fused into a mass of hatred?¡±

    The wood shudders and creaks as it rises around a mass of black tar-like sludge. Chunks of shell cling to the mass like shards of glass stuck in a used mattress, slurping in and out as the thing rises to its full height. It takes most of the rubble with it, cleaning a section of the ground so thoroughly that it¡¯s almost impressive.

    Except for, you know, the fact that it¡¯s a monster made of dead shellraisers. I snap over to one of the busted shells I¡¯d seen a second ago, half expecting it to have risen along with the main thing. Trembling black residue breathes along with the main mass, but for now, it doesn¡¯t look like it''s going to stand up and join the fight. None of the others do, either, but that can change at a moment¡¯s notice.

    Wood swirls through the thing like flotsam in a whirlpool. It bobs in and out of the tar, surfacing every now and again coated in a thin sheen of magic, then begins to knit together. Slowly but surely, the thing builds itself armor made of broken driftwood.

    ¡°How do I fight this thing, Pearl?¡±

    ¡°Me? What are you asking me for?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s made up of your dead people, not mine!¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sorry, but this isn¡¯t an everyday occurrence for me! Maybe you can dodge it to get to the tunnel I was trying to lead you towards!¡±

    Tunnel? I narrow my eyes and look past the monster, and wouldn¡¯t you know it, there¡¯s a three foot wide opening right behind the thing. A gurgle from the wood-clad thing reminds me that I¡¯m on a timer here, and that my window to make a decision¡¯s horrifically short.

    I grit my teeth and summon a quartet of empowered ghost quarters. ¡°I¡¯m not fast enough. And I¡¯m not risking my life until I know if that thing¡¯s powering up or if it¡¯s waiting for me to make a move.¡±

    Pearl huffs and crosses her arms. ¡°Don¡¯t blame me if you lose your opportunity to run.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t even think of it, my strange little friend.¡±

    Projectile and Shield each flow into two coins. Projectile moves just as easily as before, but something about shield catches on the edge of my understanding and pulls like a hangnail. What I¡¯d easily done many times before was now like pulling teeth.

    The monster¡¯s wooden armor clicks together, fully coating it in a glistening driftwood shell. It¡¯s taken on a vaguely humanoid shape, with an oval torso that¡¯s wider at the top than the bottom, and two long legs that narrow to points no wider than a quarter at the bottom. Both of its arms are thick flails, with three ¡®fingers¡¯ on each positioned like triangular clamps. And instead of a head, all of the shell pieces come together to create a moving ¡®eye¡¯ on its chest.

    An eye that locks onto me with absolutely no intelligence behind it.

    Only cold, unselective hatred.

 Chapter 8: Coffin Shell

    I flip the coins with Projectile from my left hand to my right. A lump sticks in my throat when I try to swallow, watching the monster slowly clench and unclench its claw-like fingers as it¡­ pulsates.

    ¡°Identify.¡±

    Monster is a part of one of your current quests.

    Identification cost reduced to (0).

    Confirm purchase: Y/N?

    Before I can respond to the prompt, splintering wood thunders into my field of view. I yelp in surprise and throw out a slightly wrong shield in the way of the thing¡¯s fist. It slams against the magical barrier, and a spray of black slime reminds me that it''s not solid on the inside.

    Wood chunks batter my exposed calves, and the slime makes sure I won¡¯t be pulling it off any time soon. Pain lances into my brain like searing needles, poking at every single receptor like a mad doctor using me as a pincushion.

    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± I groan and flick the other coin into the monster¡¯s path to try and slow it down. ¡°What kind of magic pain bullshit is this?¡±

    My screen flickers as a tiny black stain passes over the ¡®Y¡¯. Information floods into my brain, and understanding unfortunately comes a little too late.

    Mass Risen Grave: Shellraiser.

    A monster created from the final remnants of many Shellraisers.

    Depending on the size, the Risen Grave grows in strength.

    Mass Size: Regenerates at an alarming rate, has enough mass to put lethal force behind its attacks, and inflicts ¡®Agony¡¯ status when its body fluid enters your bloodstream.

    Yup, agony¡¯s a pretty damn good name for what I¡¯m feeling right now. And it isn¡¯t getting any better as the seconds crawl by¨Cif anything, it¡¯s getting a whole lot worse.

    I summon a fistful of ghost quarters, fill them all with shields, and awkwardly position myself as far away from the monster as possible. Shaky breaths fill my lungs with every passing second I wait for the thing to follow me. Time ticks by as the pain grows, then stalls out at the level of a sprained ankle all over my body.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t moving. Why isn¡¯t it moving?¡± I hiss through my teeth.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Maybe it¡¯s guarding the tunnel for some reason?¡±

    I grit my teeth. That¡¯s about the worst thing that can happen, since the hole I came in through sealed itself off the second I dropped down. Unless there¡¯s another passageway I haven¡¯t been told about, this is the only way forward.

    Pearl suddenly gasps. ¡°What¡¯s it doing?!¡±

    The desperation in Pearl¡¯s voice snaps me out of my pain-induced mental withdrawal, and forces me to focus on the monster before me yet again. Its arms are slowly thinning out, glooping onto the ground below it like spools of rope, and the wood is shifting to coat them anew.

    Before I can even think, one of the shoulders snaps forward violently. And in the split second after, the coiled up arm follows.

    ¡°Shit!¡± I cry as I drop to the floor and drop a coin in front of me.

    The shield flashes into being not a second too late. The arm lashes towards me in a perfectly straight line, impacting the shield with such force that it nearly shatters. I wince and bring up my arms to block my face, letting three more coins fall to the ground.

    CRASH! CRASH! Crash. Clunk.

    Four impacts sound out in quick succession. The entirety of the thing¡¯s whip-like arm is coiled out in front of me, but before I can do anything about it, the thing snaps its shoulder back to recall its arm. And as that one recoils, its other shoulder sweeps through the air in front of it in a vicious arc.

    I have a split second to make a decision. The thing doesn¡¯t look like it can move from there. So¡­ running into the other tunnel to regroup is the smartest thing to do. Unfortunately, that involves somehow surviving a few more attacks.

    Which I¡¯ll just have to do. I wince and push myself to my knees, then cry out in pain as I try to rise to my feet.

    A miasma of agony washes over me, halting my thoughts for a split second. The pain is absolutely unbearable, and all I can manage through it is calling a few more empowered ghost quarters to my hand. I fill them with shield through trembling fingers and muffled cries of warning from Pearl.

    Something crashes into my side. I feel my arm bend, and bend, and bend until the horrific cracking of bone sends me into adrenaline-fuelled alertness. The taste of iron and warm wetness fills my mouth as the shield filled coins vibrate uselessly against my hand.

    I¡¯m going to die. With a hand filled to the brim with spells that could¡¯ve stopped it.

    The ground skids past out of the corner of my eye. A wet cough slips through my lips, and the following intake of breath is accompanied by a horrible shooting pain right in my lung. It triggers another coughing fit, but¡­ that¡¯s it. Pain and awareness vye for my limited attention, and I slowly understand that I¡¯m not actually dead.

    ¡°Pearl.¡± I groan. ¡°Is it about to attack again?¡±

    Horrified murmuring precedes any real words. ¡°I¡­ um¡­ Shelby, your arm¡­¡±

    I glance over at my right arm. It isn¡¯t pretty. But somehow, most of the damage seems completely constrained to it. And what damage it caused by crushing into my ribs. After a few seconds of mouthing words of disbelief, I set my jaw and voice the question that should really be a blessing.

    ¡°How come I¡¯m still alive?¡±

    My left hand tightens around the coins, and I pause. One of them¡¯s missing. I look back at the distance the monster¡¯s attack sent me sprawling, trying to locate the one coin I must¡¯ve dropped during the tumble. Instead, I see the remnants of a shield dissipating into thin air.

    A shield I¡¯m damn sure I didn¡¯t throw.

    ¡°A shield appeared and protected you.¡± Pearl finally squeaks. ¡°It¡­ it wasn¡¯t enough to keep you safe, but it looks like it kept you alive.¡±

    I chuckle grimly and try to move. The pain¡¯s absolutely horrible, but I¡¯m starting to feel¡­ numb. That¡¯s probably a terrible sign, but I need to make use of it.

    ¡°The shield triggered on its own. And instead of coming out of the coin itself, it somehow manifested a few feet away.¡± I say to myself as I watch the monster come to grips with my continued existence. ¡°That¡¯s got to be part of that coinbound upgrade. But¡­ that¡¯s not very coin-bound. How do I use this?¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Two projectile-filled coins clatter to the ground and release their spells. I grimace at the absolutely no damage they caused to the glass.

    ¡°Shelby!¡±

    Dark awareness spreads in the corner of my mind. I shift my body and raise my left arm to block the whip-like limb screaming towards my head, four coins shattering in my palm as I do. A shield four layers thick springs into being a few inches from my hand, and the arm slams into it with enough force to break one.

    The head-on attack broke three and damaged a fourth. The sideways whip only broke one and damaged a second. Only a slight difference, but it¡¯ll save me some ghost quarters if I can tell in time. It takes a few seconds for the arm to start recoiling. Longer than the straight, but it¡¯s a much safer attack.

    If I¡¯d been smart about it, I probably could¡¯ve jumped out of the way of the straight. It started all at once, and I hadn¡¯t seen it adjust afterwards. Probably couldn¡¯t, anyway. At least not keeping the raw power of the straight. So I need to move. But my damn legs still won¡¯t listen to me.

    ¡­Legs?

    My eyes are drawn to the monster¡¯s spindly legs. It hasn¡¯t used them for any kind of leverage. Plus, it reshaped its arms once already, so why did it still have those two very much weak points on display? And why hasn¡¯t it moved from right on top of the tunnel? Obviously it¡¯s guarding it, but it¡¯s proven that it can move. So why haven¡¯t its legs shifted in the slightest?

    ¡°Are you okay? Can you still think?¡± Pearl asks worriedly.

    ¡°No to the first, yes to the second.¡± I half-chuckle, half wheeze with a gesture at the monster. ¡°Why does it have spindly legs? Shouldn¡¯t it turn them into a¡­ trunk, or something if it¡¯s not going to move?¡±

    Pearl sputters out a string of words filled with disbelief. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s weird, but we¡¯ve got much bigger problems! Your legs¡­ and your arm¡­ and the attack that¡¯s coming RIGHT NOW!¡±

    I snap to the attack, see that it¡¯s a straight, and force myself to roll out of the way. The arm sails through right where I was a second ago, and the monster tries to adjust itself a little too late to hit me. But that proves me right¨Cit can alter the path of the straight. Just¡­ not really well.

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you panicking?¡± Pearl demands as I shakily get to my legs. My muscles almost instantly give out, but the hardened coating acts like impromptu casts. ¡°I¡¯m panicking, and the monster can¡¯t even kill me! It¡¯s¨Cwait. Do you feel that?¡±

    Her focus instantly shifts to the monster. More specifically, at the tunnel entrance between its legs. I don¡¯t question how I can feel or understand any of that, but it definitely adds to the pile of questions I have for this shell-dweller.

    ¡°I feel nothing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ like¡­ hrrm. Watch out.¡± Pearl pauses, and a flash of awareness alerts me to another sweep. I bring up enough shields to protect myself, and then another four for the follow-up straight it launches right after.

    I snort and summon more ghost quarters. ¡°Who¡¯s not panicking now, little miss shellfish?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a shellfish. And I¡¯m still panicking super hard, I¡¯m just trying to make sure we get out of this alive. There¡¯s something coming out of that tunnel, and it¡¯s super intense. I¡­ don¡¯t know how I didn¡¯t feel it before.¡± She mutters. ¡°It¡¯s like a roaring fire just below the surface, and the tendrils of heat are licking at the monster¡¯s¡­ undercarriage.¡±

    There¡¯s nothing there that I can see, but if Pearl says it¡¯s there, I have no reason not to trust her. So I nod and let her continue as the monster retracts its limbs.

    ¡°Somehow¡­ it has to be sustaining it and hurting it at the same time.¡± She theorizes. ¡°If it was only sustaining it, it would plomp itself down on the hole and block off our escape. And if it was just hurting it, it would use those spindly legs to run over here and rip your head off. ¡­Your people do have your brain in your head, right?¡±¡¯

    ¡°Is that some thinly veiled insult?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°Nope¨Cit¡¯s a genuine question. The shark-dog you killed has its brain sandwiched between its stomach and its lungs. I¡¯m not sure what kind of cruel evolution made it do that, but¨CINCOMING!¡±

    I already have my shields ready, so all the warning serves to do is catch me a little off guard.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to yell. Anymore. It was really helpful at the start.¡± I clarify as sincerely as I can. ¡°So, I need your opinion on this¨Cbreak its legs to send it splattering onto the tunnel, or try to finagle a shield into the tunnel to plug it up?¡±

    ¡°...Can you even make a shield big enough to plug up the tunnel?¡±

    That¡­ is a very good point. And there¡¯s a good chance that destroying its legs would only delay it for a dozen seconds, not outright stop it. If my legs weren¡¯t screwed, maybe running away would work. But I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re literally destroyed under these hardened slime casts.

    Two ghost quarters pop into my hand. I fill them with projectiles and carefully separate them from the remaining shields. They won¡¯t detonate in my hand, as was shown by me dropping a pair after the monster destroyed my arm, but I¡¯m not risking anything.

    Both of the monster''s limbs are fully retracted. It doesn¡¯t look like it can launch another attack until it¡¯s completely reset its arm, so that gives me a window of opportunity. It¡¯ll cost me a whole lot of ghost quarters, and if I screw up I¡¯ll be on a serious resource limit, but it¡¯s my best chance.

    I steady myself and raise my arm in front of me. The monster¡¯s right arm lashes in a sweep, and is instantly joined by its left. Attacks from both sides, probably meant to check if I can actually block them at the same time. For a split second I wonder that exact same thing, but Pearl¡¯s dark awareness keeps me on edge and confident at the same time.

    ¡°Both!¡± She warns me, even if it¡¯s completely unnecessary.

    ¡°Noted!¡± I call back, raising shields on both sides to block the oncoming limbs. They crash through the shields just like before, and the monster switches into recall mode the moment they hit.

    Now¡¯s my chance. I fumble a coin onto my thumbnail and aim it at the thing¡¯s left leg. My confidence dies when I see just how shaky my arm is. Being right-handed doesn¡¯t help for shit, either, and it being fifty feet away means I¡¯ll have to be way more accurate than the¡­ one or two shots I¡¯ve fired before.

    ¡°Pearl! Help!¡±

    She nods. ¡°I¡¯m on it!¡±

    The edges of my vision become soaked in colour-strewn darkness. Instead of making it harder to see, it somehow makes everything sharper and far more vibrant than a second ago. My arm doesn¡¯t get stronger. But suddenly I know just how to compensate for my own weakness¨Cthe right way to flick the coin so that the projectile will hit its mark.

    Before I can think myself out of this newfound certainly, I flick the coin with all of my might. It spins for a few feet before shattering into a mass of whirling magical power that accelerates as it forms. The monster shifts its torso to try and avoid my attack, but the thing is way too slow. And way too rooted to its exact spot.

    Projectile shatters a spindly leg from the middle down. The monster emits a low groan, like heavy machinery starting to jam, and shifts slightly to the side. But it¡¯s not down yet. I raise my other coin, watching like a hawk just in case it somehow manages to launch more attacks way faster than before, and use Pearl¡¯s help to aim at the other immobile limb.

    It impacts heavily, and the monster lets out a mighty shriek like shearing metal. It lurches forward the instant its leg is severed, launching itself a dozen feet closer to me. My thoughts catch on the dark possibility that I had been horrifically wrong, and I feel Pearl¡¯s fear right alongside mine.

    Arms shift from whips into massive claws. The monster slams them into the glass, but the floor is far stronger than the wood that makes it up. Splinters and goo fly everywhere as the thing destroys itself in a desperate attempt to get closer to me. Then it seems to remember where it is. It turns around as well as a mass of wood and goo can, scrabbles with destroyed hands to try and pull itself back over the hole, and slowly but surely stops moving.

    ¡°Is¡­ is it dead?¡± Pearl whispers. ¡°Or¡­ more dead, since it was already dead to start with.¡±

    I don¡¯t have a good answer for her. Not a single notification pops up, I don¡¯t get a surge of Worth like I would experience from a game, and I certainly don¡¯t feel any stronger. I pull out my Class Card to check for any changes, but the only thing that greets me is a terrifyingly low ghost quarter count.

    ¡°It better be.¡± I close my Class Card with a grimace and start making my way to the thing¡¯s ¡®corpse¡¯. ¡°I¡¯m running low on coins and blood. Either of those things run out, I¡¯m cooked.¡±

    The monster doesn¡¯t move as I approach. Before I¡¯m really ready, I¡¯m standing over it with my hand hovering dangerously close to the thing¡¯s wooden and goopy body. I swallow my worries and lean over it, press my hand to its body, and attempt to bring it into my inventory.

    Mass Risen Grave: Shellraiser unable to be stored.

    Items: Concentrated Shellraiser Nuclei, Shellraiser shell conglomerate, and everdriftwood scraps possible to gain instead.

    Remaining materials converted to: 75 Worth.

    Current Worth (91) clears the (50) Worth threshold.

    (1) Clearance ticket issued.

    If not used within 2 hours, it will be destroyed.

    Opening Clearance Shop at your location.

    Shop wisely.

    Your life may depend on it.

 Chapter 9: Clearance

    A simple door shimmers into being a foot away from my face. It¡¯s one of those wooden ones that looks like it¡¯s been around for decades, with a window taking up the upper half and an ¡®open¡¯ sign hanging from a suction cup. At the moment it doesn¡¯t look like there¡¯s anything beyond it¨Cjust the rest of the cavern I¡¯m in¨Cbut I¡¯ve got a feeling that¡¯ll change the second I pull the handle.

    I reach down, grasp the handle, and pull. Nothing happens. For all of two seconds I¡¯m confused, but a piece of paper over the handle tells me exactly what I¡¯ve done wrong.

    ¡°Push.¡± I sigh as I do exactly that. ¡°I can¡¯t be missing obvious stuff like that.¡±

    Metal bells tinkling announce my arrival into a simple-looking store that appears out of nowhere. It¡¯s got that antique shop vibe, with incandescent lighting and hardwood shelving that matches nearly perfectly with the floor itself. The entire place smells like peppermint cinnamon tea, and a steaming red and white striped mug on what looks like the checkout counter seems to be the source of the smell.

    A man¨Cwho might be young, and might be old, doesn¡¯t look up from his book as I take my first steps into the store. He pushes up small round glasses with one finger, then raises that hand a little further to brush shoulder-length orange hair out of his eyes.

    ¡°Welcome to Threshold Clearance.¡± He says in a bored but professional voice. ¡°Before you ask any questions, I¡¯ll get them out of the way; no, you can¡¯t bring your friends in here unless they¡¯ve passed a threshold too. Yes, this place actually exists. No, you can¡¯t stay here forever. And I can¡¯t¨CI repeat, I can¡¯t leave here and help with whatever problems you¡¯re having. Not unless you¡¯ve got Worth coming out of your ears.¡±

    I roll my eyes and look for somewhere to sit down. Or a¡­ health potion of some kind. There¡¯s no obvious red liquids in clear bottles, but there most definitely is an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair with a deep indigo cushion. I beeline for it and collapse with a sigh of relief that turns into a gasp of pain.

    The guy behind the counter rolls his eyes and sighs. ¡°Please don¡¯t damage any of the merchandise. It¡¯ll hurt you so much more than it¡­¡±

    He pauses as he finally looks over his book. A frown knits his eyebrows together, and he leans over the counter to get a look outside the front window.

    Which is there, now, I guess.

    ¡°Where am I?¡±

    Hey, that¡¯s what I¡¯m wondering too.

    ¡°Good question, buddy.¡± I snort as my mind tries to wander off into what could just as easily be sleep or death. ¡°The system told me it was the seasky shores, but beyond that, I don¡¯t have a clue. Are you here to sell me stuff? Because I need a healing potion something fierce.¡±

    The guy raises an eyebrow, then gestures at a small table with four different flasks on it.

    ¡°You can trade your clearance ticket for everything on that table. Or you can buy a healing potion from one of the shelves, which¡¯ll cost you at least twenty five Worth.¡±

    ¡°Steep.¡± I chuckle weakly as I wave my hand and try to summon the clearance¡­ thing. A small red ticket with a stylized ¡®1¡¯ appears between my fingers. ¡°I¡¯ll use this thing.¡±

    It disappears the second I speak my desire into being, and the table flickers from where it had been to right beside me. Holographic displays appear over each of the metal flasks, labeling one as a healing potion, another ¡®bottled sleep¡¯, the third a mana potion¨Cwhich doesn¡¯t look like it serves a use for me¨Cand the last as a meal replacement.

    I grab the healing potion and down a quarter of it. My throat closes up at that point, and I come away coughing fiercely.

    ¡°Yeah, your body won¡¯t let you overdose on any kind of potion. There¡¯s some backlash later, but you don¡¯t look like you¡¯re in any condition to worry about that.¡± The guy chuckles. ¡°I¡¯m guessing your starter kit didn¡¯t come with one of them?¡±

    ¡°No, it did not.¡± I say between coughs. ¡°Just some clothes, a water bottle, and some energy bars. Not much of a starter kit, if you ask me.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re usually a lot more¡­ robust than yours. But the system always gives out equal opportunities, unless you¡¯re like me, so you must¡¯ve gotten something else. Wait, where are my manners?¡± He taps his cheek with two fingers. ¡°You can call me Gil.¡±

    ¡°Shelby.¡± I reply with a sigh as liquid relief fills my bones. ¡°God, this stuff feels like heaven. Knowing it¡¯d cost a third of my Worth on its own somehow makes it taste a shitton better, too.¡±

    Gil seems¡­ confused by that.

    ¡°You¡¯re only Worth seventy-five? And you survived an encounter with whatever did that to your legs? What kind of absurd skills did the system give you?¡±

    I grin and bend down to start scraping the crud off my legs. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to know, Gil-boy. Hey, do you buy stuff here too? Because I¡¯ve got a corpse taking up an inventory space I could really use for something else.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ do.¡± He says slowly. ¡°But aren¡¯t you even a little curious as to why I¡¯m here?¡±

    ¡°I leveled up and the system brought you here.¡± I say with a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s no weirder than anything else I¡¯ve seen so far.¡±

    ¡°No, not like that. I mean me¨Ca human¨Cworking for the system. Doesn¡¯t that go against everything the tutorial taught you?¡±

    ¡°Sorry to burst your bubble, but I didn¡¯t get much of a tutorial. I appeared on a beach, walked for a while, got attacked, learned some spells, and¡­ eh, don¡¯t really want to tell you everything.¡± I decide halfway through my sentence. The guy literally just told me he was suspicious, after all. ¡°So what was the tutorial supposed to tell me?¡±

    Gil stares at me with a frown that slowly turns into understanding.

    ¡°You¡¯re a Worth Class just like me. That¡¯s the only thing that makes sense.¡± He says eagerly, and as if by magic, his entire demeanor changes. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen another one of us for¡­ wow, it¡¯s really been over three years. Who kicked the bucket and gave up their coin? Was it the Banker? He always gave off ¡®corny villain that dies stupidly¡¯ energy to me. ¡­Ah, who am I kidding, that guy¡¯s going to live to be two hundred somehow.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to tell you.¡± I say bluntly.

    He nods at that. ¡°Completely understandable. Here¨Cmaybe if I offer you some info first you¡¯ll be a little more trusting. I¡¯m the Merchant, and I get a cut of everything I sell here. Except for the stuff the system generates on its own, like those potions you just bought¨CI don¡¯t get squat for that. Oh, and anything I buy from you comes from my own pocket, not the system¡¯s stash.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ you¡¯re ripping me off?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much.¡± He admits readily. ¡°But everything here I¡¯ve acquired on my own¨Cno system help needed. Some of it¡¯s cheaper than you¡¯ll find anywhere else, some you won¡¯t find anywhere else, and some¡¯s just daylight robbery. Here¡¯s a hint¨Cdon¡¯t buy anything you can easily find on your own. Doesn¡¯t just go for my store¨Cit goes for literally every shop.¡±

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Gil vaults over his counter, snatches his cup of tea along the way, and beelines for the door. He flips the sign to ¡®closed¡¯, then summons a comfortable-looking armchair from his inventory right across from me. I glance over at the door, unsure if I want to give this guy the time of day, but a twinge in my legs reminds me that I¡¯m still not in walking shape.

    ¡°Oh, if you think I¡¯m hitting on you, don¡¯t be worried. I¡¯m not interested in humans.¡± Gil offers a little too easily. ¡°All the other races are so much more¡­ exotic, if you pick up what I¡¯m putting down.¡±

    Other races? I almost reach up to pat Pearl out of some weird protective instinct, but I stop myself before I can. She hasn¡¯t spoken a word since we got here, and there¡¯s gotta be a reason for the silence.

    ¡°Wait¨Cyou¡¯re telling me I could¡¯ve been shopping from an¡­ elf or something like that? And instead I¡¯m stuck here with¡­¡± I gesture generally at Gil. ¡°You?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t sound too disappointed.¡± He laughs. ¡°But I totally get it. If my first shop had been manned by a boring vanilla human instead of the beautiful merisian it was, I might not have had the will to go on.¡±

    He leans back and takes a sip of his drink. ¡°Still haven¡¯t managed to find their homeland, which is a huge bummer.¡±

    The wistfulness in his voice and the raw desire in his eyes do not match in the slightest. But, somehow, it makes me feel a little safer with the dude. He has his own priorities. They¡¯re not¡­ great, but it probably means he isn¡¯t going to randomly murder me.

    I look over my options, and unfortunately, one of them stands out. I¡¯ve got a veteran here, who seems to be willing to talk, and who doesn¡¯t want anything from me. That¡¯s probably the best I¡¯m going to get. But to get him to talk about the shit I need to know, I¡¯ll need to trail him down the right path.

    ¡°I¡¯m a gambler.¡±

    He narrows his eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡±

    Okay, that¡¯s not what I was expecting. ¡°Why don¡¯t you believe me?¡±

    ¡°Because the last Gambler that made it out of the starting area did it before the system started isolating Worth classes. And he barely made it to clearance ten before he turned Worthless.¡± Gil explains. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what the Gamber¡¯s starting area is, or if it got randomized like the rest of us Worthies, but it has to be¡­¡±

    He looks down at my shellraiser casts and pauses.

    ¡°Pretty dangerous?¡± I finish for him with a smirk.

    ¡°Took the words right out of my mouth.¡± He mumbles in thought, then snaps his fingers. A small credit card terminal appears in his hand, which he proceeds to fiddle with for a few seconds, then hands to me. ¡°Tap your Class Card on that. If you¡¯re actually the Gambler, it¡¯ll transfer you twenty-five Worth. If you¡¯re not, it¡¯ll decline your card and you won¡¯t be able to buy or sell anything until your next threshold. Do we¨C¡±

    I tap my card on the terminal before he can finish speaking and change his mind. A confirmatory beep causes a grin to spread across his face, even though he¡¯s now twenty-five Worth poorer.

    ¡°Is that enough confirmation for you?¡±

    He sends the terminal away and nods. ¡°More than enough. If you¡¯ve got anything you want to sell just drop them on the floor. I¡¯ll give you an offer on anything purchasable.¡±

    Cool. I withdraw the shark-dog, which reopens the prompt from before informing me of all the stuff I can gain from the mass risen grave. A few attempts to swipe it aside end uselessly, so I just set the open card down and pull an everdriftwood sapling from my inventory.

    Gil leans forward and grabs my arm before I can put it down.

    ¡°Whoah, I¡¯m going to stop you there.¡± Gil says seriously. ¡°Do not sell those to me. They¡¯re extremely rare investments, and I can¡¯t give you even a fraction of what they¡¯ll really be worth. I¡¯ll be happy to take some lumber, leaves, and sap off your hand when you get them growing, though.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°But I don¡¯t have enough inventory space.¡±

    ¡°How many of them do you have?¡±

    ¡°Eight.¡±

    He looks at me like I¡¯ve got two heads. ¡°O-kay. Still can¡¯t buy them from you thanks to the clearance limits, but I think I¡¯ve got an inventory expansion coin here somewhere. It shouldn¡¯t be too expensive if you haven¡¯t upgraded yours at all.¡±

    With a motion like opening a book, he summons his own Class Card. Unlike mine, his projects a royal purple two-fold screen that opens like a huge book. He physically flips through it a few times, taps it a bunch, then slides his finger up and off it. A single coin emerges into the world, marked with a square made out of four squares on one side and four tally marks on the other.

    ¡°Here.¡± he says as he tosses the coin to me. ¡°That¡¯s fifteen Worth, and it only works if you¡¯ve got less than ten inventory slots. Completely worthless to me, but a smoking deal for you. Unless your class gave you more than ten to start with?¡±

    I shake my head as I eye the coin. My skill can¡¯t work with these things, can it? Well¡­ it can¡¯t hurt to try.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Gil asks as I palm the coin and flip it sky-high.

    My right arm still isn¡¯t in good enough condition to catch anything, so I snag the coin with my left hand and feel the tally marks against my palm. A twinge in my brain gives me way too much hope for this.

    ¡°Tails.¡±

    A gasp rips free from my lungs as it feels like my very essence is being drawn out of me. I grit my teeth and strain to stay conscious against whatever the hell is happening, all the while my Class Card grows brighter and brighter by the second.

    Skill Discovery: High Stakes

    Anything in Coin form can be wagered on a High Stakes bet, as long as that coin has Worth.

    Doing so locks this skill entirely for 2 hours and exhausts you.

    ¡­Oh, shit, I didn¡¯t double any of the Worth I got from killing the mass grave. That¡¯s a huge damn loss.

    ¡°Looks like using your skill takes a lot out of you.¡± Gil notes.

    ¡°Ya think?¡± I chuckle weakly.

    But it can¡¯t stop the grin from spreading across my face. I deposit the empowered inventory expansion coin without letting him see it, then take out fifteen glass lones to pay for the thing I¡¯ve already used.

    He reluctantly accepts them. ¡°Just because I don¡¯t know what your skill does, it doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t take a guess at it.¡±

    I pick up my Class Card and smile at the screen filled with eight new gold-bordered inventory spaces. Five of them are already filled with the rewards from the mass grave, which leaves space for four more saplings when I include the one the shark-dog¡¯s corpse made.

    ¡°All Worth classes have a skill that lets them do something with¡­ well¡­ Worth.¡± Gil continues unprompted. ¡°Since I¡¯m the more powerful one here, I¡¯ll divulge mine first. Tap your card to mine and I¡¯ll transfer the description over.¡±

    He closes his book into a purple card with dark, chocolate-coloured accents and holds it out to me. I obviously don¡¯t reciprocate.

    ¡°Making a transaction¡¯s one thing, but this could brick my brain, you know.¡± I say slowly. ¡°I¡¯ve seen what it feels like to learn info way beyond what my Mind stat allows.¡±

    ¡°Which is why I¡¯m sending you the default description¨Cminus any evolutions or revealed details I might¡¯ve gained over the years. Come on.¡± He flicks his card with his fingernail while waggling his eyebrows at me. ¡°Aren¡¯t you even a little curious?¡±

    I roll my eyes, but yeah. I¡¯m damn curious. He¡¯s talking about ¡®Worth¡¯ classes like we¡¯re a different species than non-Worth classes, and if I can get his curiosity piqued, then maybe I can score some even better deals here.

    ¡°Fine.¡± I sigh dramatically and tap my card against his. ¡°But if this gives me some kind of magical malware, I¡¯m kicking your ass.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect anything less.¡± He agrees seriously.

    With a few swipes I find his skill under my information tab, then tap on it to enlarge the pitifully small text.

    Active Skill: Wandering Merchant.

    You can set up shops wherever you want, and can sell anything you¡¯ve obtained at them.

    Unmanned shops are protected from being stolen from as long as the thief¡¯s clearance is lower than yours.

    I stare at the short description for a second. Then I look around the fairly large system-approved shop that Gil somehow managed to get for himself. And finally, my eyes fall on the man while realization dawns on me.

    ¡°Skills are so vague, aren¡¯t they?¡± He says with a wolfish grin. ¡°It makes you want to exploit every little loophole you can think of. Us Worth classes? We¡¯re the ones who stand to gain by far the most.¡±

    A shiver runs down my spine. Not from fear, though¨Cfrom excitement and anticipation. If Gil can  turn his simple skill into a system-approved shop, then how much can I do with mine?

    ¡°I see that smile. It¡¯s the same one I had when I found out I can put a little kiosk in a system-approved shop.¡± He says proudly. ¡°It¡¯s the smile of someone who sees opportunities. The smile of someone I want to invest in.¡±

 Chapter 10: Investment

    ¡°Whoa, slow down there. Investing? In someone you literally just met? That sounds like you¡¯re trying to abuse a skill I don¡¯t know about.¡±

    Gil nods in agreement. ¡°I can see how it¡¯d sound that way, but if our positions were reversed, you¡¯d probably be saying the same thing. Once you get to my level, you use more than triple-digits of Worth every day. To you, that¡¯s a serious fight against a monster from your nightmares. To me, it¡¯s Wednesday.¡±

    I grunt and lean back without confirming or denying his words.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to say anything¨CI¡¯ve lived what I¡¯m talking about. And all these things¨Cthese cheap things¨Chave severe requirements to them. Most of them only work on stats below five, then ten, and so on until you¡¯re getting to debilitatingly expensive stat points.¡± He taps his Class Card for emphasis. ¡°I can¡¯t use pretty much everything I¡¯m carrying for low clearance levels, and if I have to forgo a few hundred Worth to make sure you¡¯re alive long enough to get on your own two feet, it¡¯s a wonderful investment for me.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. It still doesn¡¯t explain why I¡¯d risk myself accepting random shit from you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry yourself over that¨Cyou wouldn¡¯t be accepting anything for free. I¡¯d just be selling it to you for a¡­ clearance price.¡± He makes a snipping motion with one of his hands. ¡°No strings attached. If you prefer, you could think of it as a human to human discount. From the only shopkeeper in the world who can actually offer discounts.¡±

    Now that¡­ that is an interesting little tidbit. ¡°Is that because you¡¯re the only Merchant who has a shop like this, or because you¡¯re the only shop that isn¡¯t bound to the system?¡±

    Gil smiles like he¡¯s still holding onto a secret. ¡°Both.¡±

    Oh. Well, that doesn¡¯t change anything, I guess. I¡¯m still a little reluctant to trust this random guy who appeared through the system¡¯s own systems, but if he¡¯s going to make it possible to survive these two weeks, then I guess I can risk it a little. Hell, I¡¯ve got an alien shellfish on my head who can somehow speak into my brain. Trusting a human should be a lot easier than trusting that.

    ¡°I¡¯ll bite, but I want a little bit of info first.¡±

    Gil sips his tea and motions for me to go on.

    I gesture at the potions beside me. ¡°These were paid for by a ticket the system gave me. Does that mean you lost Worth, or are you supplied with these things by the system to exchange for tickets?¡±

    He waggles his hand indeterminately. ¡°That depends. I can put together packages and mark them as exchangeable for clearance tickets, but the system has to approve each and every one. If I don¡¯t have anything suitable to exchange for the clearance level of any specific person who comes in, then the system marks stuff I¡¯ve already got on the shelves as ¡®exchangeable for tickets¡¯ and reimburses me the raw value of that item if it gets chosen. Which is a lot lower than what I could sell it for.¡±

    ¡°So you have a reason to go out and make packages like this one.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. As long as the system thinks they¡¯re worth 50 Worth per clearance level of the person, it approves them. So I have a backroom filled with things that are actually useful, a mechanism that detects what clearance level the person opening the door is, and a spell that puts out a package from that stuff worthy of their level while also submitting it for system approval.¡±

    ¡°Because otherwise you might end up selling things you¡¯ve seriously marked up for less than they¡¯re actually worth. Smart. Kind of makes me want to see what a store run by someone who isn¡¯t looking to make a profit looks like, though.¡±

    ¡°Oh, pfft, you don¡¯t want to see that.¡± Gil waves his hand dismissively. ¡°You¡¯ll just see the same old cloned supplies and fairly common weapons slash spells slash skills. With me, you might end up paying a little bit more, but you get an infinitely better selection. ¡­Well, you will get a better selection when I can actually sell you valuable things.¡±

    I frown at that choice of words. ¡°You can¡¯t sell me valuable things? Why?¡±

    ¡°Obviously it¡¯s your clearance level. You can¡¯t carry anything in your inventory more than five levels above your own, and you can¡¯t even claim ownership of something ten levels above your own. So I¡¯m stuck working with only a few levels of stuff¨Cand I don¡¯t carry a whole bunch for brand new people. You¡¯re not the most profitable bunch, you see.¡±

    He glances down next to my chair with an eyebrow raise of ¡®see what I mean?¡¯.

    I follow his eyes down at the shark-dog and chuckle in agreement. ¡°Point taken. And I¡¯m assuming you can¡¯t just give me Worth, and that I can¡¯t just sell everything you gave me right back to you?¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately right. Once I sell something, I can¡¯t buy it back. Period. And Worth can only be exchanged for goods or services within the realm of what that good or service should cost¨Cprobably to stop someone like me from powerleveling someone like you. There¡¯s more, but it¡¯s not important enough to worry about until way higher clearances.¡±

    Damn the system and its understandable limitations. Now instead of instantly fulfilling the requirements for my overarching quest, I have to actually work for my Worth. Someone¡¯s probably found a loophole, but they wouldn¡¯t have any reason to contact me. Since¡­ they¡¯re probably already max level with a bunch of max level friends.

    ¡°Wait¨Chow are you going to ¡®invest¡¯ in me if you can¡¯t just give me shit?¡± I point out. ¡°Need I remind you that you¡¯re the one who told me not to sell those potted plants?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry your shellfish-adorned little head¨CI know what I¡¯m doing. Like I said; I can sell you anything within the realm of its actual Worth. It just so happens that when things are worth so little, I can get away with making them cost you almost nothing. Like that inventory coin. I had it listed at seventy-eight worth, and you bought it for a fraction of that.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Not a bad deal at all, actually. It¡¯s not like it¡¯s biting into his bottom line, either¨Che¡¯s probably making hundreds of Worth worth of profit from selling stuff to higher-level people. If not thousands. And there¡¯s definitely aspects to his skill that I physically can¡¯t know right now that let him abuse it to the absolute maximum.

    Like if he partnered with someone with a class that could¡­ say¡­ make potions. Like the ones I¡¯m drinking right now. He could set up a store in some dangerous high-population area, the potion-maker could supply him en-masse with potions, and the both of them make out like bandits. Even more reason to believe him.

    ¡°Alright, you¡¯ve worn me down. I¡¯ll let you sell me things for an exorbitant discount. But first, how much are you buying the shark-dog for? And¡­¡± I expel all the scrap everdriftwood from my inventory. ¡°This crap¨CI mean pre-broken wood¨Ctoo.¡±

    He kicks away a plank, then offers me his Class Card. I tap my own to it, and just like that, I¡¯m seventy-five Worth richer. Not quite as much as I¡¯d been expecting, but a damn good chunk of change for what amounted to inventory clutter.

    ¡°Fifty of that was for the dog, and the other twenty-five was out of pity for the poor wood. But don¡¯t bring me any more scrap, please. It¡¯s broken enough that I can barely justify buying it, no matter how much it¡¯d be worth whole.¡±

    ¡°Noted.¡± I say as I tuck away my card, which is now very close to my next Worth threshold. ¡°So what happens when I hit my next threshold? Do I come right back here?¡±

    Gil chuckles and shakes his head. ¡°No way, no how. You got extremely lucky, catching me when I opened for the day, but now I¡¯m marking you as a¡­ ¡®special customer¡¯. You¡¯ll come back here once you hit clearance ten, twenty, thirty, and so on¨Cbut not one level before that. So stock up on everything you need before the two-hour time limit kicks you out.¡±

    <hr>

    After giving my legs and arm twenty minutes to heal, which was accompanied by some alright conversation on my side and frustratingly system-censored conversation on Gil¡¯s, it¡¯s finally time to do the shopping. I wiggle my toes to make sure they¡¯re still attached and sigh in relief as I stand up, motioning for him to lead the way to what he thinks will be useful for me.

    ¡°If I hadn¡¯t already sold it to you, my first recommendation would be an inventory upgrade.¡± He explains as he runs his hand along a shelf packed to the brim with brightly coloured raw materials. ¡°But that¡¯s the main style of thing we¡¯re going to give you¨Cpowerups that boost your system¡¯s capabilities. Like this puppy.¡±

    He turns on his heel and snatches a chunk of ice that looks like it¡¯s been carved into a mass of multi-pupiled eyeballs.

    ¡°This is all-seeing ice. If you use it on your system, it¡¯ll give you the ability to identify things from a much greater range and slightly reduce the cost to identify them. It¡¯ll also give you some kind of quest when you use it which rewards you with one Mind point. Sure it costs Worth to activate, but you¡¯ll save way more in the long run.¡±

    Before I can say anything, he tosses the chunk of ice to me and hurries away from the raw materials. I close my mouth and walk after him, moving the uncomfortably cold thing from hand to hand to keep myself from freezing. And¡­ urgh, it feels and looks like it¡¯s always staring at me.

    ¡°Next, you¡¯ll need a system upgrade that lets you purchase stats, inventory space, and other upgrades without having to come to a shop. It¡¯s one of the most important ones, since you can finesse the right time to pass a threshold by buying things to delay it. Everyone else gets something like this when they finish their tutorial, but us Worth classes get completely screwed out of it.¡±

    Gil hums excitedly to himself as he pours over a shelf filled with old books, most of which are written in strange languages that I don¡¯t even slightly recognize. Each of them seems to be bound in material that shouldn¡¯t be used to bind books¨Cgemstone, solid smoke, seawater, and one even looks like it¡¯s made out of motion blur.

    Before Gil can make a decision, dark awareness points me towards a ratty tome on one of the upper shelves. It looks like it¡¯s made of scuffed glass with tiny bits of colour strewn throughout, and the writing looks frighteningly similar to the stuff that was on Pearl¡¯s stand.

    ¡°What about that one?¡± I ask, pointing to the tome Pearl pointed out to me. ¡°Would it work?¡±

    He stops humming and follows my finger up to the book. ¡°The one written in shellraiser? I honestly don¡¯t know¨CI can¡¯t read shellraiser, and the system doesn¡¯t automatically translate it. Ooh, was that one of your rewards for killing the risen grave?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± I say without any further explanation.

    He nods and pulls down the book. ¡°If you say so. I can bring the all-seeing ice down to thirty-eight Worth, and this book to¡­¡± his eyebrows shoot to the roof as he checks his Class Card. ¡°Nine-thousand, eight hundred, seventy-six Worth. But with an unknown modifier for if you speak shellraiser. Holy guacamole, how is anyone supposed to get this thing before they find another system upgrade manual?¡±

    ¡°Speak shellraiser?¡±

    ¡°Ha-ha.¡± He says dryly and places the book in my open hand. ¡°Open it to the first page and read the title. I¡¯ll tell you if the cost goes down to a point I can actually sell it.¡±

    The glass is warm against my fingers. All the little pits and gouges feel like stories of their own, and the pure white writing on the cover still looks like nothing to me. Then the awareness seeps into my mind, calming and familiar, and the words come to me as easily as English.

    Saga of the Shattered Shell

    Pearl gasps quietly into my mind as I carefully open the glass cover. On the first page is a few small lines of text, followed by a signature that doesn¡¯t translate. It turns blurry as all hell and hurts to look at.

    ¡°To all my loved ones, those who despised me, and those who knew me not. This is my tale.¡± I read carefully. ¡°Though history may be rewritten to paint me in a myriad of different colours, know that I am a woman who wore every palette. Every tint, every shade. No matter who they tell you I am, these bindings hold the true tale.¡±

    I rub my eyes and look away from the blur. ¡°And the rest¡¯s all Mind-stat blurry. So what¡¯s the damage, Gil? ¡­Gil?¡±

    I look up at him, and what greets me is a slack-jawed stare of awe. But not at me¨Cat his own Class Card. Another prompting snaps him out of it, and he snaps his card shut along with his jaw.

    ¡°A hundred Worth. It¡­ went down to a hundred Worth. From almost ten thousand.¡± He mutters in disbelief. ¡°It¡¯s almost like the book wants you to have it. Who am I to stand between that kind of weird connection?¡±

    He shakes his head and sighs. ¡°That¡¯s going to put a little dent in my profits for the month. But that¡¯s the price I pay for keeping my word, I guess. I¡¯ll sell it to you on one condition¨Cyou use that book before you leave this building. Actually, I want to see you use everything I sell you. Including this.¡±

    He swipes his hand over his Class Card, and the sound of something smacking lightly against a wooden shelf rings out from the other side of the shop. A small rectangular box appears in his hand, and he shoves it at me before I can say anything.

    I place the all-seeing ice on top of the box and bite my lip. ¡°Do I have enough Worth to pay for all this?¡±

    ¡°A hundred and seventy.¡± Gil says flatly, but there¡¯s something under his placid expression. Something childlike and vibrant. ¡°It¡¯ll leave you with almost nothing, but as long as you don¡¯t go crazy with spending, you¡¯ll be fine. ¡­Oh, that means you¡¯ll have to delay using the all-seeing ice, since it costs fifty Worth to use. ¡­And the seals, which will cost thirty-five Worth per. Actually, only the book should be free to upgrade your system with.¡±

    I shift awkwardly until I¡¯m holding the book in one hand and the other two things in the other. ¡°Thanks for the warning, shopkeep. So, are you going to tell me how to use this thing, or is the system going to tell me I need a higher Mind stat for that info?¡±

 Chapter 11: A Tutorial Wouldve Been Nice

    Gil nods with a small grin.

    ¡°Look at you. Less than¡­ a¡­ hm. How long have you had a class?¡±

    ¡°Almost a day now.¡±

    He whistles appreciatively. ¡°One day in and you¡¯ve got as good an understanding of the system as I did a week in. And I got a whole tutorial instead of whatever you¡¯re in the process of getting. I¡­ nope, time limit. The book comes first. Put your Class Card between the cover and the first page, then carefully close it. And I mean carefully.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°That sounds like it comes with an ¡®or else¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it comes with a heavy ¡®or else¡¯.¡± He chuckles grimly. ¡°I won¡¯t tell you all the details, but I¡¯ll say that eleven of us went into upgrading our systems, and only six of us came out.¡±

    Yeesh. That¡¯s sure one hell of an ¡®or else¡¯.

    I hold my card between two fingers and look down at the open book with a whole lot more reluctance than a moment ago. But it looks like this is a necessary part of moving forward in this world, so I don¡¯t really have much of a choice in the matter.

    With a deep breath to steel my confidence, I place my card against the first page¨Cright under all the text¨Cand pick up the cover with my other hand.

    ¡°Wait!¡±

    I flinch, then swivel to look at a very distraught Gil. ¡°What?!¡±

    He taps his palm. ¡°You have to pay me first.¡±

    Oh, you¡ªI bite back some unflattering shit and roll, take my card away from the book, and offer it to him. He taps his own card against mine, then nods in satisfaction and sends his card away while spreading his hands.

    ¡°Sorry to startle you. Go ahead.¡±

    Sure, yeah, I¡¯ll just do that. Not like my heart¡¯s beating three times faster than normal or anything. No amount of calming breaths are going to take this edge off.

    ¡°Okay.¡± I say to myself, repeating my actions up until my card is in the book. ¡°Just wondering, but how can this go wrong?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a clue. All I know is that I lost acquaintances that day, and that they died when they upgraded their systems. It could have been faulty manuals, or a lack of Worth, or any number of other things. But it happened when they did exactly this, so I felt the need to warn you.¡±

    Probably would¡¯ve been fine without the extra pressure, but I guess I can understand where he¡¯s coming from. And¡­ that little attempt at stalling did nothing for my nerves. So here we go. I guess. Right now. Aaaand¡­ now. Definitely not stalling.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be just fine.¡± Pearl whispers into my mind. ¡°I won¡¯t let a book written by ________ hurt you.¡±

    I close my eyes and let out a long breath. It does nothing to calm me. And I carefully close the cover over my Class Card. An icy grip takes hold of my heart, and darkness seeps in from all corners of my vision.

    You have come in possession of an upgrade manual.

    To upgrade, you must meet at least three of the following requirements:

    Clearance level ???: Not met.

    Complete understanding of the Shellraiser language: Not met.

    Possession of a Mind and Soul based class: Not met.

    Completion of quest ¡®Serenade of Shattered Shells¡¯: Not met.

    Location ¡®Deepsea hall of Risen Shell¡¯ found and cleared: Not met.

    Requirements not met. Unable to upgrade system.

    ...

    Override activated: Permission of a living Shellraiser of ??? ???

    Conditions met; initiating system upgrade.

    Thank you, Pearl, for being whatever all those question marks are hiding. The grip on my heart softens and warms significantly, but a little pressure remains nonetheless. Maybe as a reminder of how I literally didn¡¯t meet any of the requirements.

    ¡°She¡¯s still alive.¡± Gil mutters under his breath. ¡°That¡¯s a good sign.¡±

    I choose to ignore him, and instead hold the book close to my chest as wisps of smoky power the same colour as Pearl¡¯s body whirl around it. They slowly close in, like a tornado focusing on one specific house it really hates, removing parts of the book as they go. Eventually the entire book is whittled down to nothing and disappears from my hands, then the whirlwind peters out atop my Class Card. Leaving only a tiny stamp right next to my picture. A stamp that¡¯s coloured the exact same as Pearl¡¯s body and shaped exactly like her shell.

    ¡°Is¡­ is that it?¡± I ask with a deepening frown. ¡°I don¡¯t feel any stronger. Or any smarter. Or¡­ anything, really. Did I just destroy a priceless book?¡±

    Gil just shrugs. ¡°To everyone else, maybe. But to you¨Cno. Try opening your Class Card and you¡¯ll see.¡±

    Oh, right¨Cmy information tab. I pull open my card, then pause as the obvious change hits me in the face. Wherever had been white before was now the same colour as Pearl¡¯s body, and even the gold now has little flecks of colour strewn throughout it. But those are the smallest changes.

    Each of my blank inventory spaces now has a lock icon over it and a Worth cost over the icon. All of them say fifty right now, but they¡¯ll probably get more expensive as I unlock them. And if I can buy inventory spaces from my card, then what about stats?

    I swipe over to check, and yup¨Cthe screen is completely different now. All of the nicely colour coded numbers and letters are now pure black, each shot through with specks of the colour that they used to be. And right above each of them is an arrow pointing upwards with a cost right next to it.

    Body, Mind, and Soul are all twenty-five. Not sure if that¡¯s a good deal, really, but one point of Fate looks like it¡¯s going to cost me a hundred and thirty five Worth¨Cmore than three times what the others cost me. Not proportional to how many points I have in any of them. So¡­ yeah, still not sure what¡¯s a good deal.

    Finally, I swipe over to the information tab. And the cover of the book¡¯s right there¨Cstaring at me like a disappointed parent. ¡­Not sure why I think it looks disappointed, but that¡¯s the vibe it gives off for some reason. Oh, and there¡¯s a warning sign on top of it telling me that I need fifteen Mind to even open the damn thing.

    So I managed to lock myself out of something. Great.

    Just as I¡¯m about to close my card, I notice a swirling mass of black hovering right next to my ¡®inventory¡¯ tab. I don¡¯t even try to touch it, since it might take away what little Worth I¡¯ve got on me, but it quickly shows me that it doesn¡¯t need my permission to do anything.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Before my eyes, all the other tabs are pushed slightly to the left to make room for a brand new one. It coalesces into a perfect mirror of my other tabs, slams itself down through my screen with the force of an executioner¡¯s axe, and unwraps the black stuff coating it to reveal a single word.

    Quests

    ¡°Did I really not have a quests tab before this?¡± I mutter to myself as I press the tab. And nothing happens. ¡°Gil, it looks like my new tab isn¡¯t working.¡±

    ¡°Which one is it? Quests, Skills, ??? or ????¡±

    I blink at the sound of the system censoring his voice. It¡¯s nowhere near as horrible as when it censored Pearl, though definitely not enjoyable at all.

    ¡°Quests. And I couldn¡¯t hear the last two you mentioned.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s completely normal. It¡¯s not super important information, but the system doesn¡¯t want you to know what the rest of the tabs are before you unlock them for yourself. Oh, and you have to get something new under that tab to be able to access it. Then it¡¯ll populate itself with all the other quests you¡¯re already a part of.¡±

    ¡°Guess I¡¯ll just have to wait.¡± I say as I close my card and send it away. Then I put my hand on the two other things I just bought and deposit them. ¡°I guess that¡¯s all I can do for now. Before I leave¨Chow many stat points am I expected to have?¡±

    Gil holds up one finger. ¡°One every time you pass a clearance threshold, and every class has their own starting spread. If you want more than that, you¡¯ll have to buy them or complete quests. Or find items that give them, but that¡¯s usually done by one of the two aforementioned methods.¡±

    I scoop up my four new potions and send them to my inventory, then pause and feel at my backpack. It¡¯s not wet, so my water bottle didn¡¯t break in the fight, but I can feel something squishy at the bottom.

    ¡°Ah, crap, I almost completely forgot about these things.¡± I mutter to myself as I set the bag down and open it. Gil leans over my shoulder as I rummage through destroyed energy bars and somehow intact sapling containers, along with a pristine water bottle and some absolutely destroyed clothes.

    It¡¯s nowhere near as bad as I was expecting. With that relatively nice surprise out of the way, I throw my backpack over my shoulder, adjust the straps, and check my newly expanded inventory to see what I can make room for. Actually seeing everything as pictures is nice and all, but I can tell that it¡¯s going to be a massive pain in the future.

    As if responding to my thoughts, my screen shifts to a simple list view of everything I¡¯ve got stored.

    1x Shellraiser

    31x empowered ghost quarters

    1x everdriftwood sapling

    1x everdriftwood sapling

    1x Concentrated Shellraiser Nuclei

    1x Shellraiser shell conglomerate

    1x Healing Flask

    1x Bottled Sleep Flask

    1x Mana Flask

    1x Meal Replacement Flask

    1x All-seeing ice

    1x Chainwax sealing kit

    And somehow I¡¯ve gone from having absolutely no space to having two free slots. Nice. I reach into my backpack and send two more of the saplings into my inventory, filling it to the absolute brim and putting me right back to needing more space. With a backpack still stuffed with precious cargo.

    It must be showing on my face, because Gil snorts out a laugh and gestures at the door.

    ¡°The perpetual struggle of having too much stuff and absolutely no space.¡± He says as he watches me walk towards the door. ¡°Good luck out there, Shelby. I¡¯ll be here when you reach clearance level ten.¡±

    I wave with one hand as I pull open the door. ¡°As long as I live that long.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you will.¡± He says confidently. ¡°You¡¯ve already survived the hardest part.¡±

    The tinkling of chimes and bells plays me out, then cuts off abruptly when the door slams shut behind me. I don¡¯t even get a chance to ask him what the hell he meant by those cryptic parting words.

    ¡°Are we out?¡± Pearl whispers into my ear. ¡°It looks like we¡¯re out, but powerful people can be really tricky.¡±

    I glance over at the pile of shellraiser sludge and what little rubble remains around it. If we¡¯re still in that store, then Gil¡¯s a hundred times stronger than I took him to be. Not that he showed an absurd amount of strength in the store¨Che only alluded to it and let my mind fill in the blanks.

    ¡­Shit. He could¡¯ve been playing me that entire time.

    With a sigh, I let that thread fall into my pile of passive worries. ¡°We¡¯re actually here, Pearl. The dread creeping up my spine is doing a wonderful job at reminding me. Why were you so quiet in there?¡±

    ¡°Oh, there wasn¡¯t a real reason. I just didn¡¯t want to talk to him.¡± Pearl says easily as I trek over to the hole the risen grave was guarding. Then she pauses. ¡°Actually, that was a lie. I didn¡¯t want to risk him being able to hear me inside of your head. And¡­ um¡­¡± She shudders. ¡°I didn¡¯t want him to hit on me.¡±

    I can¡¯t hold in the laugh that rips free from Pearl¡¯s complete sincerity. She puffs up her cheeks and puts her hands on her ¡®hips¡¯, looking as affronted as someone her size and shape can.

    ¡°I¡¯m being serious here! He told you to your face that he wasn¡¯t interested in humans. Which means he¡¯d be interested in me¨Ca non-human!¡± She continues, which only makes me laugh harder. ¡°Oh, laugh it up, why don¡¯t you! When you show up there next time, and he¡¯s got a table for two set up, you know that other plate¡¯s not for you! Because it¡¯s for me!¡±

    She wails that last line like it¡¯s the end of the world. But there¡¯s a little theatrics in her delivery that weren¡¯t present for the rest of her tiny speech.

    ¡°Oh¨Coh god, I can¡¯t breathe.¡± I cough through the laughs, stopping to lean down and rest my hands on my knees. ¡°You¡¯re killing me, Pearl. I¨Cahem¨CI promise I won¡¯t let Gil try to court you. Swear on my soul.¡±

    ¡°Your Soul stat¡¯s only one.¡± Pearl states seriously. ¡°Swear on something more important.¡±

    I wave my hand and cough a few times before answering. ¡°Okay, okay. I swear on¡­ my¡­ um¡­ my Class that I won¡¯t let anything bad happen to you. Is that good enough?¡±

    From the immediate brightening of her mood, it looks like it is. ¡°Yep! And I¡¯m going to hold you to that. To completely change the course of the conversation¨Clet¡¯s go check out what the risen grave was guarding. Then we need to find out how to get you that one skill point Gil alluded to.¡±

    ¡°Good point. Not sure how he could¡¯ve done it, but there¡¯s a chance he screwed me out of it by making me buy the potions.¡±

    I step over the last bit of the shellraiser remains, glancing over my shoulder to make sure I¡¯m not going to get ambushed as I do. A sort of sordid warmth washes over me as I get closer and closer to the hole; a dirty heat that sticks to my skin and crawls into my mouth like a swarm of tiny flies. Death and grime emanate from it in equal parts, but somehow, the worst thing of all is the heat.

    Sweat cascades down my forehead. It sticks to everything it touches, including my lips and eyes, coating them in a thin film that somehow makes the heat even worse. I pull my shirt away from my body in a desperate attempt to stay cool, but it does about as much good as an ice cube in a blast furnace.

    ¡°Holy hell, this is insane. How did the rubble mask all this heat?¡±

    ¡°The remains were probably plugging up the hole while we were looking through the rubble.¡± Pearl pants. Looks like she¡¯s not immune to the heat, either. ¡°Whatever animated it¨Cwhether it was a quest or just us getting close¨Cmust¡¯ve been amplified by the heat. But too much heat hurts it, and too little heat¡­¡±

    She trails off and glances back at the mass. It was either get burned or die in the relative cold. Unfortunately for us, the only way forward looks like it¡¯s going to take me into the middle of the inferno. If my shields could move with me, or if I had some kind of protective gear, then maybe I¡¯d be able to stand it.

    I lick my lips, which are somehow drying out in the extremely wet heat, and carefully creep up to the edge of the hole. Just standing this close is making my eyes water. But the edge is right here. Less than a foot away. There¡¯s no light coming out of the hole, so it¡¯s probably safe to look down.

    Yeah. I just have to¡­ take the last step and lean over the blazing hot death hole. No problem. None at all. I gulp around a big mouthful of nothing as Pearl whimpers in discomfort, then bite the bullet as fast as possible.

    My hair sticks to the back of my head. All my eyelashes clump together in one uncomfortable mass, which I didn¡¯t even know was possible. I feel rivulets of blood leaking from my lips, trailing down my chin or into my mouth with the tang of iron. My eyes can barely make out a blurry shape down below.

    ¡°Identify.¡± I say through a dry mouth and yank myself out of the way of that¡­ horribleness.

    A wracking dry cough shakes my body as the system processes the request. Luckily for me, it counts the identification as part of my current quest, so I don''t have to pay out any of my single-digit remaining Worth.

    Tainted Perpetuum Oystershell Beacon.

    A beacon made from the shells of a long extinct shellfish that can reflect and amplify whatever they are shown.

    Tainted by the remains of a single Shellraiser, reflected and amplified tens of thousands of times over.

    WARNING: Destruction of this beacon will instantly fail ???

 Chapter 12: The Beckoning Deep

    Fail¡­ what? Do I have an ongoing quest that I don¡¯t know about? Wait¨CPearl. That¡¯s it.

    ¡°Can you see what I saw, or do you need me to explain it to you?¡±

    Pearl doesn¡¯t say anything for a long time. Long enough for me to back away to a safe distance, try to scrape the sweltering coagulated sweat off my body, give up ten minutes later, and start formulating some kind of plan to disable the beacon without destroying it.

    Her voice finally interrupts me as I¡¯m contemplating using one of my limited supply of ghost quarters to block off the beacon¡¯s radiant heat. And there¡¯s¡­ something off about it.

    ¡°Sorry about not answering for a while there. Yes, I can see the same things you can. Not in a¡­ through your eyes kind of thing, but in a ¡®I can see the big system text when it pops up¡¯ kind of thing.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at the slight change in her voice. It¡¯s almost like she¡¯s forcing eagerness through when something else should be there.

    ¡°Pearl, how can you be ten minutes worth of distracted when you don¡¯t have anything to get distracted by?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°I have my ways. Most of which include retreating into my shell for ______ ______ _____________ ____ _______________.¡±

    I wince at the harsh whine that overtakes her last few words. ¡°The system censored you halfway through that.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s annoying. How can I explain myself when the system won¡¯t let me?¡± She huffs, then pauses to think. ¡°...I¡¯m going to try something. Tell me right away if I get censored again.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    ¡°When I go into my shell, I have¡­ stuff in there. Like a single room where I keep what little stuff I have left.¡± She speaks slowly and carefully, looking at me after every pause. ¡°There¡¯s a lot more in there than I thought, but because of my unique situation, I can¡¯t remember what pretty much any of it does, means, or if it¡¯s even mine in the first place. Us shellraisers _______¨C¡±

    ¡°Censored.¡± I grunt as a much stronger pain wracks my mind. ¡°Way stronger stuff than before.¡±

    Pearl hisses apologetically. ¡°Sorry. Um¡­ I can¡¯t really say much more if it won¡¯t let you hear that. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Just tell me if you¡¯re retreating next time.¡± I look down at the ground as I play with a ghost quarter. ¡°Don¡¯t go into any specifics, but do you know how to deal with that beacon?¡±

    ¡°...Sort of?¡±

    I nod. ¡°I¡¯m going to assume that means you know how to deal with a normal one, not one that¡¯s reflecting a corpse.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good assumption.¡±

    ¡°I know it is.¡± I chuckle, forcing a shield into the ghost quarter. It takes a little more effort than it did before it evolved. ¡°Ah, crap. Really should¡¯ve asked Gil about what a ¡®coinbound¡¯ spell does.¡±

    ¡°Or you could try to put a skill point into your Mind stat. Maybe it will shed more light on how your skill works.¡± Pearl suggests. ¡°You are owed a skill point, remember?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been ten minutes, not ten days.¡± I say back, but she¡¯s got a point. ¡°Alright. Go take a little time for yourself while I try to find this elusive skill point I¡¯m owed.¡±

    ¡°I already did. So I¡¯ll take watch in case something else decides to attack us.¡±

    ¡°Much appreciated.¡±

    I call my card and pull it open. All I¡¯ve got to go on is Gil¡¯s statement that I¡¯m owed one skill point per threshold cleared, so the most logical place to start is my stats tab. After a quick glance over at the quest tab to make sure it hasn¡¯t randomly become accessible, which it unsurprisingly hasn¡¯t, I shake my head with a little sigh and go right back to the task at hand.

    Each of my stats still costs more than I can afford to upgrade, so that¡¯s not happening. I cross my arms and squint at the absurdly high cost to upgrade Fate, which turns into a frown as I remember something about Pearl. Her item version, to be specific.

    I tab over to my inventory to confirm it. The point in Fate she¡¯s giving me says it doesn¡¯t count towards the cost of upgrading a stat. So that huge jump is from a whole one point increase over base. It almost makes me want to save my theoretical clearance skill point for later, since raising my Mind from two to three would end up saving me way more Worth in the long run.

    So¡­ maybe I put it into Fate, even though I¡¯ve already got three of it. That¡¯s the most efficient use of the point, unless it¡¯s got some restrictions like¡­ it can only be used on my lowest stat. That¡¯d be a huge killjoy, and it would force me to evenly distribute my skill points as I get them.

    ¡°That¡¯s one surefire way to kill any kind of specialization.¡± I say to myself. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean it might not happen, but it¡¯d be a major killjoy. And¡­ it¡¯d pretty much destroy the point of Fate as a stat.¡±

    If everyone had a Fate stat around their level, there¡¯d be no point in having the stat at all. It¡¯s little comfort in the face of a hyper expensive stat system, but it gives me hope that I can actually have a dump stat.

    ¡­The fact that I want that is probably a little concerning. I¡¯ll put that out of my mind for now and try to forget that I ever thought that¡­ thought, and focus on the important shit. Finding how to get that stat point. I press and hold on my Mind stat, quickly read through its description again to see if there¡¯s any differences, and find none.

    I try pressing on one of the arrows, but it just tells me I don¡¯t have enough liquid Worth. Then I try flicking the number upwards, calling out a few phrases that might trigger some system thing, and I even check my information tab for anything useful. And sooner rather than later, I¡¯m all out of ideas with nothing to show for my admittedly meager efforts.

    ¡°Okay, don¡¯t give up yet. I have to pay to use the seal set and the all-seeing ice I bought, so maybe I have to ¡®activate¡¯ each of my stats before I can get free points from leveling up. Or maybe it¡¯s an aspect of my system I don¡¯t have access to yet for some reason. The damn thing didn¡¯t even have a quest tab until twenty minutes ago, for god¡¯s sake.¡±

    Even with all my bitching, none of those possibilities feel right. There has to be something I¡¯m missing. If it¡¯s super obvious, I¡¯m going to feel like such a dumbass when it comes to light. And if it¡¯s some bullshit hidden thing, like pressing on one corner of my screen while I rapidly swap between tabs in some predetermined order, I¡¯m going to be pissed.

    Just as I¡¯m about to jump back in, my screen flashes to a notification.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Two-hour grace period expiring in one minute.

    If you have not yet used your clearance ticket, use it now or lose it permanently.

    You will not receive this warning next time.

    ¡­No. It can¡¯t be. Did I just have to wait? I bite my lip and stare over at where Gil¡¯s store had been, trying not to think the thoughts that I¡¯m about to think. But I can¡¯t help myself from thinking them.

    ¡°The system didn¡¯t give me the point for a reason. One that I¡¯d probably know better if I got sent to a normal store. Say, maybe I could exchange my clearance ticket for a stat coin that could only be used on a stat of one. Like that inventory coin that could only be used if I had less than ten slots. So¡­ the skill points the system gives probably have no restrictions, but the ones I can buy probably do.¡±

    The seconds tick away. I lean back on my heels as I wait to be proven wrong.

    Time expired.

    All remaining tickets removed and all stores closed.

    Adding function: Threshold Stat Point(s) to Class Card.

    I watch as my screen contorts for a second, tabs away from my stats, then tabs right back a second later. And what do you know¨Call the costs for purchasing a stat point are all a glimmering golden zero. All it¡¯s missing is an actual system message screaming at me to use any points with restrictions before I use the free, no-strings-attached one.

    You have (1) free stat purchase.

    It will not increase the cost to purchase your next stat upgrade.

    I throw my arms into the air in resignation. ¡°Just spit in the face of all my theories, why don¡¯t you. So what¡¯s the damn point of having it cost more to buy stats if everything but buying them doesn¡¯t increase their cost?¡±

    An idea¡¯s already starting to dawn on me, but now I can see the path forward. So all those theories get to sit on the backburner for the foreseeable future. I tap the ¡®upgrade¡¯ arrow on my Mind stat, watch the number tick over, and wait for some kind of change.

    My eyes water a little. I blink the tears away, and when I do, the world¡¯s a little¡­ sharper. Every little sound is slightly more in focus, and I can make out where they¡¯re coming from just that little bit better. I breathe deeply, then wrinkle my nose at the smell of¡­ myself. It¡¯s not that much worse than a second ago, but I swear I¡¯m a little more rank than before.

    Or it could all be one massive placebo. The system did make sure I read that huge list of things the Mind stat didn¡¯t improve, after all. But there was one thing that it improved for sure. I tab over to my spells with an excited grin to see what secrets this doubling of my Mind has unveiled.

    Coinbound Shield

    Evolution Requirements: ???

    Progress: ???/???

    Create a barrier of magical energy using a Worth coin as a base. It shatters when it takes enough damage, ending the spell. Can only be used on coins of value 1-5.

    ¡­That¡¯s it? THIS is my upgraded spell? There¡¯s less here to work with than the un-upgraded version had! I¡­ no. I¡¯ve got to be misremembering. I force myself to exhale as calmly as I can in the face of paying for a worse version of a spell, then tab over to my information tab to pull up the fully upgraded shield¡¯s description.

    *Shield*

    Create a flat barrier of magical energy that suspends itself in place. It shatters when it takes enough damage, ending the spell. If used by a spellcasting _________ ________ ___ ____________. If cast using Worth, can only be used with coins of value 1-5.

    I look closely between the two, swapping between tabs to make sure I¡¯m not imagining anything. But as I read on, something comes to me. The coinbound version doesn¡¯t mention casting it without using a coin¨Cwhich, I mean, COINbound. Of course. But it¡¯s also missing a few other key words, like ¡®flat¡¯ before barrier. And, more crucially, ¡®suspends itself in place¡¯. Hell, with all the omissions, it looks a lot like I¡¯ve got much more control over the barrier¡¯s function.

    ¡°Less of a description means less restrictions.¡± I muse as I flip a coin through my knuckles, then let it fall flat on my palm. ¡°It felt stiff when I tried to use it without thinking, but when I had a clear image in my head, the spell went off without a hitch. I wonder how far I can push this.¡±

    My coin shimmers lightly as I start to push a shield into it. This time, I envision a half-dome that emanates from the coin itself instead of staying in place. It goes into the coin without a hitch, and I flick it a few feet away to activate it.

    It clinks uselessly to the ground without activating. I tilt my head to the side and kneel down to collect it, fully expecting something to have gone wrong with the spell. But no¨Cit¡¯s still in there. Just not activated for some reason.

    I spin it around a few times, then press it against my thumbnail again. The shields that saved me from the mass grave had popped out with a mental command to protect myself, so maybe i have to give this one a command, too.

    As it soars through the air, reaching the apex of its arc, I point my finger at it like a gun.

    ¡°Shield.¡±

    The coin explodes into a spell the moment the thought leaves my mind. A three-foot wide dome expands from behind the coin as it travels, and when it finishes forming, the coin pulls the shield along with it. It slams to the ground with far more weight than before, and only then does the coin shatter into shards of light. Leaving a perfectly intact shield that isn¡¯t stuck motionless in the air.

    I nod at the spell in satisfaction. These little differences greatly improve what I can do with my spells¨Cand having two different kinds of triggers for the shield improves it even further. I can keep a coin on my person for close-range shields triggered by my mind, and stuff a timed activation shield into others to force things to move exactly how I want them. Or¡­ protect other things, I guess.

    ¡°Wonder how much shield I can pack into one coin at a time.¡± I muse, summoning another ghost quarter and filling it with a simple shield¨Cone that¡¯s as big as possible, and that will stay stuck in one place.

    A flick of my thumb sends it tumbling less than a foot. The coin explodes into a circular shield that looks like it¡¯s got a six foot diameter. Tiny hairline cracks start to form in the magic from the edge in, and the actual shield looks a little more¡­ transparent than the dome.

    ¡°So bigger shields are less concentrated with magic. I guess that makes sense.¡± I note and pull out another coin, filling this one with the exact same shield parameters as the last one, except for making it a rectangle.

    It pops into being right next to my first one, just as transparent and crackly as its sibling.

    ¡°Shape doesn¡¯t have an effect on shield quality. Good to know. What to test next¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Things I found out while wasting half of the ghost quarters I have left:

    <ol>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">The total surface area of the shield is all that matters in durability and duration.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Projecting a shield away from a coin takes a little more magic than letting it emerge directly from the coin, slightly decreasing the shield¡¯s durability and duration.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">When a shield bursts free from a coin, it physically bursts free. Not sure how useful this is, but I could probably launch something if I put it on a coin and let a shield free.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">All my shields are stronger and longer lasting than before I upgraded the spell.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">I can only make fairly simple things; no making weapons or a suit of armor. Yet.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">There¡¯s probably way more I can do with this, so I shouldn¡¯t think I¡¯ve got this spell mastered.</li>

    </ol>

    I pull my finger from my Class Card and nod at what I¡¯ve written in Coinbound Shield¡¯s description. This new notes feature is pretty handy.

    ¡°Pearl, are you done yet?¡± I ask, wait a few seconds, and receive no reply. ¡°Well, someone¡¯s busy. And she¡¯s going to miss the first attempt because of it.¡±

    I wave my screen away and pull out two ghost quarters. In the first I imbue a shield that¡¯s just big enough to cover my head in a protective sphere, which I press to the bottom of my chin and activate. It pops into being as I walk towards the hellhole; a perfectly clear shield protecting my important bits from the beacon¡¯s radiation. The seal around my neck isn¡¯t perfect, but that¡¯s the price I pay for being able to breathe.

    Blinking away the sweat, I palm the other coin and grit my teeth as the heat mounts. I push a completely spherical shield into this one, and set the trigger to be when the coin impacts something that isn¡¯t me.

    The tunnel yawns as I approach. It¡¯s disgusting radiation spews free in a torrent, slowly but surely invading my impromptu helmet with every breath I take. I glance close to the tunnel, swallow hard, and lean over the edge with my coin at the ready.

    I hold my breath and force myself to stare into the painful depths. Searing light and radiation bombard my eyes, barely diminished by my shield helmet. I bite my cheek to keep from ripping my eyes away, line up my coin with the beacon far below, and with a silent prayer that my shield isn¡¯t going to be too small, I let it go.

 Chapter 13: Yet Deeper Still

    A glimmer of magic tumbles down the tunnel, holding in it pretty much all my hopes of continuing. I blink against the radiation, holding as strong as possible so I can see the results with my own two eyes. As long as the tunnel isn¡¯t some optical illusion that¡¯s five times deeper than it looks, coinbound shield should be able to contain the beacon.

    The question is for how long?

    I clear my throat and wipe a line of sweat from where my shield-helmet presses against my neck. Far sooner than I expected, the coin clinks against the beacon and explodes into a spell. Magical energy wraps the beacon in a sphere in the blink of an eye, and like a tap being turned off, the radiation disappears.

    Not just the stuff flowing out of the tunnel, either¨Ceven all of it that was stuck in my helmet unceremoniously cuts off. My sweat flows freely, no longer contained by the sickly heat, but it no longer has a reason to flow. It¡¯s a little too cold for my liking. But it worked. I can¡¯t help the grin that tugs at my lips, and I lean in a little further to check on the shield. A few cracks are showing in the sphere, but if they keep spreading at this pace, it looks like I¡¯ll have a few minutes to work with every shield.

    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s about¡­ fifty feet down there¡­¡± I get to my knees and tap my fingers against the edge of the hole. ¡°And the glass isn¡¯t hot at all, so¡­ I guess it¡¯s perfectly safe to go down there. But if it¡¯s just a hole without another connecting tunnel, I¡¯ll either have to get the dead shellraiser out of the beacon or keep it shielded until I find a way to get it out.¡±

    I pull open my Class Card and check my inventory. Sixteen ghost quarters to work with, all already doubled, so I won¡¯t have to wait to use them. If I have to dip into my Worth as a last resort, I should wait the rest of High Stakes¡¯ cooldown out. I¡¯d kick myself if I ended up dying because of a few lousy undoubled Worth.

    <hr>

    High Stakes is usable once more.

    This notification will not be given again in future scenarios.

    I look up at the notification, brush it away, and stand with a grunt of effort. I summon a glass lone and flip it, feeling that now familiar twinge of magic as it spirals in the air. It smacks against my palm, the familiar sensation of its glassy faces almost written into my nervous system for some reason.

    ¡°Heads.¡± I open my hand to reveal the empowered coin, then summon a ghost quarter right next to it. ¡°I flipped hundreds more of these things than the glass ones, but they still don¡¯t feel natural. That¡¯s gotta be the system interfering. What do you think, Pearl?¡±

    No answer. Just like all the other times I¡¯d tried to talk to her since she retreated to her shell. Whatever she¡¯s doing, it has to be extremely important. Nothing else could possibly justify missing all this quality time with me.

    The glass lone vanishes, and I summon a second ghost quarter to fill with the shield for the beacon. I fill the first with a helmet-shield that goes right over my head, then walk into the beacon¡¯s area of effect with the beacon¡¯s shield between my fingers. This time I go in much more confidently, ignoring the radiation as best as I can, and let the coin fall directly down on the beacon.

    As the radiation cuts off, I summon four more ghost quarters and fill them with spells I¡¯ve been preparing over the last two hours. Ladders are too risky¨Csince the rungs could easily shatter if I put too much weight on them¨Cbut a sort of climbing wall with protrusions I can get my fingers around and my feet into is much easier. Concentrating it into a foot-wide rectangle should get me more length, too.

    The only issue is how many ghost quarters I¡¯ve got left; only ten now. If I mess up, there really isn¡¯t room for retries. So I¡¯m just not going to mess up.

    I pass the other three coins from my right hand to my left, then pitch the one I¡¯ve got left at the wall as hard as I can. It shatters into a fifteen-ish foot long wall, complete with sturdy protrusions for me to get my hands in. At least that¡¯s what I imagined.

    Reality isn¡¯t as kind. The complex protrusions look more like small lumps; barely big enough to get my hand around, and definitely not good enough to get a hold of. Guess that¡¯s what the spell¡¯s description was trying to warn me about.

    ¡°Okay, so really complex things are a no-go. Probably should¡¯ve tested for that.¡± I shake my head with a sigh. ¡°That¡¯s fine. I can work with this. Just not¡­ efficiently.¡±

    I flick the second coin from my left hand to my right, then slightly alter my perception of what I want the spell to do. Instead of a wall flat against the tunnel¡¯s side, I imagine it tilted at a forty five degree angle. Then throw it against the useless first wall.

    This one bursts into exactly what I imagined¨Cexcept it¡¯s completely missing any of the bumps. Which means I can alter the spell inside of a coin as long as I haven¡¯t thrown it yet. That¡¯s definitely good to know, since it means I don''t have to be so reactive with putting a spell in them at all.

    I quickly open my Class Card and add those two points to the list, then close it and lower myself into the tunnel. My shoes catch on the magic like rubber on glass, slowing my descent just enough that I can gather my thoughts before I throw out the second¨Cwell, third¨Ccoin.

    Just like the one before it, there¡¯s no issue with this coin¨Cit smacks against the wall opposite me and summons another platform. My free hand drags against the wall, slowing my descent as much as possible, until the edge of the first wall sneaks up on me.

    The last second comes all too quickly. I tense my legs and lean down as far as possible, then push as hard as I can to make the relatively small jump from one platform to another. My feet slam against the shield, followed immediately after by my shoulder. I let myself crash into the glass wall, then shift with a grunt so I¡¯m facing back into the depths of the tunnel.

    ¡°One wall down, more to go.¡±

    Two more walls come and go without a single hitch. I have to resupply my spells after the third, and as long as my estimates are right, I¡¯ll be able to get to the beacon with only six total coins. Not including the one I wasted. My shoulder aches something fierce, promising a wicked bruise tomorrow morning, but that¡¯s what I have a healing potion for.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    I steady myself and toss the fifth coin at the wall, slide down the one I¡¯m on, and vault to the next shield. Pain shoots up my leg the second I shift into a crouch, starting from the middle of my calf and pulsing like a second heart that spreads pain instead of blood. A pathetic cry rips free of my throat, and turns into a whole-ass scream of bloody murder when I push off with that still throbbing leg.

    My shoulder crashes into the fifth shield first. For the shortest of split seconds, my muscles spasm all the way down to my hand. I grit my teeth and blink away the rapidly forming tears, whimpering in multifaceted agony as the horrific pain spreads from one leg to the other.

    Discovery: Healing Rebound.

    When a wound is healed through any magical means, pain relative to the amount of damage restored is inflicted a random amount of time later.

    Does not inflict any damage¨Conly pain.

    This pain can be triggered earlier through strenuous activity, further damage, or biological faults.

    Effects are reduced with a higher Body stat.

    ¡°Biological faults?!¡± I hiss into the shield as I watch it slide away. ¡°You turned a damn charlie horse into a whole stampede!¡±

    As if rubbing salt on the wound, my right arm decides to join in the pain parade. All my muscles spasm at once, and all of them hurt about as bad as the absolute worst moment of the worst cramp I¡¯ve ever had. Except they¡¯re constant. Pulsing from bad to worse. Slowly sliding me to certain death.

    I have to do something. The pain blanks my thoughts. My left hand clenches uselessly around empty air, and the soft crackle of a coin shattering somewhere below is a harsh reminder that my last ghost quarter had been in my right hand.

    Scrabbling for another coin, my mind can¡¯t focus enough to get my inventory to respond fast enough. It¡¯s like pushing through brambles with a horrible burn. Each and every thorny thought scraping against the raw flesh of pain prevents me from getting through. Sweat and tears pour down my cheeks as I clench and unclench my left hand, hoping desperately that a coin will be there the next time my fingers close around it.

    A single stray thought catches hold of something more solid than a ghost quarter. Cold glass presses against my palm as my right foot slips over the void.

    There¡¯s not enough time or spare brainpower to question anything. I squeeze my eyes shut and force a hasty shield into the coin¨Ca simple square that I can fall onto. Big enough to support my body, but not so big that I shatter it on impact.

    My knees join my feet. And with a little more of my body over the edge, the rest of me shifts awkwardly to join it. I yelp in equal parts pain and surprise as I¡¯m dragged over the edge by my own dead weight, clenching my coin as hard as physically possible as my eyes wrench open to the sight of the beacon screaming towards me.

    ¡°Shield!¡± I scream as I tumble head over heels.

    The shield manifests an inch from my face. My helmet-shield smashes against it, shattering instantly. The tip of my nose is next, and¨C

    <hr>

    I blink slowly as all the aches and pains come back to me. Blood, drool, sweat, and mucus sticks to my face as I try unsuccessfully to pry myself from the shield. My memory feels stitched together¨Cone second I¡¯m slamming my face against the shield, and the next I¡¯m waking up with a smashed nose and a¡­

    Blood drips down from my forehead, interrupting my thoughts. A LOT of blood. Almost like my forehead was ugly crying from the massive smack it just suffered. I shift a little so the blood doesn¡¯t fall into my eyes, then curl up into the fetal position as nausea and dizziness join the horrific pain.

    ¡°Pearl.¡± I slur out through bleeding lips. A thought summons my health potion, but it just clatters against my shield. ¡°Help.¡±

    Only a soft crackling, like thick ice slowly melting, meets my ears. I force myself to actually take in the state of my shield, but much to my surprise, it¡¯s in damn good shape. Only a spiderweb of cracks from where my forehead and nose slammed into it.

    If existing wasn¡¯t so horrible right now, I might¡¯ve been ecstatic to even be alive. More crackling kills that thought instantly. And it isn¡¯t coming from my platform.

    It¡¯s coming from the one just a foot underneath me.

    The spherical shield looks like someone glued a shattered snowglobe together, but used white school glue instead of the stuff that dries clear. From the trial run, I know this means I''ve got all of a minute before the sphere shatters and radiation pours out of it like¡­ like¡­ Shit, I¡¯m so borked I can¡¯t even think of a good simile.

    ¡­Broken. I meant broken.

    ¡°Shelby?! I¡¯m here!¡±

    Pearl¡¯s panicked voice washes over my mind like ointment. I instinctively close my eyes, but that just makes her panic even harder.

    ¡°Oh no oh no oh no! Please! Um, how can I¡­ what can I¡­¡± She sounds like she¡¯s on the verge of tears. That really sucks. ¡°Health potion!¡±

    The sound of metal clattering next to my head makes me crack open an eye just a little. There¡¯s a tiny little creature standing there, struggling to maneuver herself into opening up the cap. Tiny rivulets of neon blue stream down her cheeks, and all I want to do is reach out a finger to whisk them away.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry.¡± She repeats as the flask¡¯s cap swings off, letting some precious health potion drip onto the shield below. ¡°I should¡¯ve been here with you. I should¡¯ve helped you. I¡¯m so¨C¡±

    Her voice catches with a sob. She drags the flask to my mouth, shoves it into my lips, and runs around the back to tip it into me. The liquid pools in my mouth, and I struggle as hard as I can to get the first drops down my throat. About half of it makes it down, and the other half painfully burns its way down to my lungs.

    My body jerks violently as movement comes back to me. I clutch my throat and sit bolt upright, choking as much of the potion up and out of my lungs as I possibly can. Pearl hurries up to my side, dancing in and out of my field of view as she whimpers and apologizes in equal measure.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡± She blubbers and smooshes herself against my hip.

    I wave one hand a little, but can¡¯t speak through the strange pain of a health potion trying to work in my lungs. Suddenly she¡¯s at my ear again, whispering more apologies.

    ¡°It¡¯s all my fault. We¡¯re supposed to be partners, but I just¡­ abandoned you. When you¡¯re doing all this to help me.¡±

    I want to point out that I¡¯m also doing it to stay alive, but apparently talking isn¡¯t going to happen any time soon. God, the backlash from this is going to be horrific.

    ¡°I¡­ I won¡¯t let this happen again.¡± Pearl says with shaky resolve. ¡°We¡¯re in this together. That means we do all the important things together. I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll make this up to you somehow. I swear on my ________ __ ________.¡±

    Ringing white overtakes everything. If I wasn¡¯t already sitting, that blast of system censorship would¡¯ve put me flat on my ass.

    ¡°Beacon!¡± I croak out as the world comes back into focus, along with the beginnings of a putrid heat.

    Pearl tilts her head to the side, then freezes. ¡°The beacon! You found a way to block it!¡±

    Chunks of crystallized red spill out of my mouth in a wet, wracking cough. I clench both of my hands and find both of them functional. None of my breaths come out right, but I can get just enough air to survive. A ghost quarter pops into my hand. Sickly heat assaults every fiber of my being.

    Only one question remains: delay the inevitable, or deal with it and accept all the consequences?

 Chapter 14: Scathing Rot

    The air around the beacon splits open. My shield barely does anything to protect us against the onslaught of heat and¡­ something that feels like decay. I wince and squint at the beacon in an attempt to make out the dead shellraiser it¡¯s amplifying. A black stain covers the entire thing, bubbling and shifting like boiling tar under the beacon¡¯s power.

    How the hell am I supposed to get this thing free?

    ¡°Shelby?! Are you going to contain it again?!¡±

    That might¡¯ve been the plan a second ago, but now¡­ it¡¯s the backup plan. I want this thing. Shield fills my ghost quarter as a contingency, and I lean myself over the edge and into the path of the radiation.

    Calling how the radiation feels up close ¡®worse¡¯ is way too much of an understatement. It was horrifically uncomfortable before, but now it¡¯s like every single molecule of water in my being is trying to boil itself out. There¡¯s no visible difference¨Cwhich almost makes it worse¨Cbut the steam rising from my fingertips as I stretch them towards the dinner plate-sized beacon smells and feels like death.

    Pearl is beside herself with worry. She half-starts a dozen sentences, abandons them for pained cries of worry, and laces her fingers over her eyes so she doesn¡¯t have to watch. Except through all the gaps she leaves.

    ¡°Just¡­ need¡­ to¡­¡± I grind out through the putrid steam rising from my own body.

    My skin tightens. Curling my fingers becomes an entire ordeal, and I can see my arm losing mass and darkening the closer I get. Every synapse screams at me to back away. I screw my eyes shut and force my hand down just under the beacon¡¯s surface, then twist my near mummified form to barely tap the underside.

    ¡°Deposit.¡±

    All at once, the heat dies. My fingers go from touching something I can¡¯t feel to bubbling black muck raining over them, and with it comes a litany of sensations. Heat. Pain. Overwhelming remorse. A single moment of death stretched out far too long.

    And, finally, blessed relief. Everything fades away to nothing as the dead shellraiser spills through my fingers, and before the last spurt of bubbling liquid leaves my hand, it is well and truly gone. But right before it slips into the depths below, it crystallizes into a shimmering mass of pure cosmic darkness that latches itself to my hand.

    Quest item obtained: Perpetuum Oystershell Beacon

    A beacon once powered by the death throes of a nameless shellraiser.

    Without a suitable power source, it can output nothing but a pale imitation of its true abilities.

    ??? item obtained: Shellraiser ???

    The ??? ??? of a shellraiser, given in gratitude as its final act.

    Grants ??? ??? ??? when used by a ??? shellraiser.

    Otherwise, grants +2 to two stats of your choice.

    I¡­ I did it. It actually worked? Holy crap, it actually worked!

    ¡°Pearl! We lived! ¡­Pearl?¡±

    More silence. But this time, I can feel Pearl¡¯s awareness mixed in with it. She¡¯s still right here with me, but for some reason, she¡¯s refusing to say anything at all. While I wait for her to gather herself I hack up another health potion crystal and reach up to wipe the blood from my lips. My body still looks a little mummified, but it¡¯s nothing a health potion and some serious hydration can¡¯t fix.

    ¡°Can you spare two stat points for now?¡±

    Pearl¡¯s voice is as quiet as a whisper, but there¡¯s a deep intensity residing under the surface. She looks up at me, all the colour drained from her except for cosmic black and shooting rivulets of metallic silver. Even on the edge of my mind, I can feel that something¡¯s changed.

    I slowly raise my hand with the crystallized shellraiser up to her. She gently places her hands against my fingers, then spreads out her body to touch the crystal. Silver spreads from her body all through the crystal, forking and twisting to create a haunting art piece that somehow reminds me of bleached coral.

    It doesn¡¯t stop until the entire crystal is shot through with silvery veins. Pearl huffs slightly, as if this act is exhausting her, and shifts her body¡¯s colour to perfectly match the crystalline corpse. It disappears in a flash of silver. But in the split second between the flash and the disappearance, I swear that there¡¯s a moment where the crystal moves like it¡¯s alive.

    Pearl retreats to her shell with a sigh of exhaustion. ¡°Thanks, Shelby. I know you didn¡¯t have to do this for me since I haven¡¯t proven myself very reliable, but I¡¯ll make it up to you. Somehow.¡±

    I shrug and flick my coin against the wall. ¡°You cost me probably a hundred Worth in the long run. I¡¯m more than willing to pay that so you can get closure. Which is what I¡¯m assuming you just did.¡±

    ¡°Closure.¡± Pearl muses. ¡°I guess that¡¯s a good enough way to describe it.¡±

    The shield manifests, and I scoop up my quarter-full health potion before I jump down at it. A question knocks about in my head, but I¡¯m not really sure if it¡¯s¡­ polite to ask it right now. Unfortunately for Pearl, there¡¯s a little part of me that¡¯s a little frustrated with her. Not much, though.

    Just enough to not be polite.

    ¡°Did you know them? Any of them? Because you barely reacted to all the other dead shellraisers, but this one seemed to bother you.¡±

    Silence. Heartbeats go on as I struggle with my shield-descending, and eventually, Pearl starts to mutter to herself in a language I don¡¯t understand. After a minute she nods to herself and¡­ ¡®locks eyes¡¯ with me. From within her shell.

    ¡°Not¡­ personally. But this way of dying is¡­ something horrible.¡± She forces out a sad laugh without breaking eye contact. ¡°Let¡¯s get to safety first. Then I¡¯ll tell you as much as the system lets me.¡±

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    It takes fifteen minutes and the rest of my ghost quarters before my feet finally touch solid ground again. I wince and roll my shoulder as I look around for anything safe-looking, but all I can make out are more tunnels. No debris, either, so it¡¯s¡­ weird, to say the least.

    I tap Pearl¡¯s shell to get her attention. ¡°Do you know where to go?¡±

    ¡°Any way is just as safe as the others. We¡¯ll eventually come to a room with water seeping in from above into a pool¨Cthat¡¯s where it¡¯s safest to rest.¡± She looks around, then shakes her head. ¡°Um, nevermind. The east, south, and northwest tunnels don¡¯t have any airflow.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re blocked?¡±

    ¡°Probably. Either the north tunnel or the southeast tunnel are good.¡± Tendrils of black awareness snake out towards both of the tunnels Pearl alludes to. ¡°Can you please take that health potion out of your inventory again? I want to be able to help you if you break down again.¡±

    I cross my arms and look between the two tunnels. There¡¯s absolutely no distinguishable difference between them, but that doesn¡¯t mean there won¡¯t be dangerous shit down the line.

    ¡°Shelby?¡±

    I summon the health potion and stick it into my backpack¡¯s side pocket. ¡°Just so you know, the health potion¡¯s the reason I got hurt. So it¡¯s like treating a hangover with more booze.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how magical healing usually works. You¡¯ll have to face the pain eventually, but because it gets triggered by stress and effort, it kind of snowballs into terribleness.¡±

    ¡°So like treating a hangover with booze.¡± I repeat with a chuckle. ¡°Just don¡¯t give it to me unless there¡¯s a real danger to our lives. There¡¯s not a whole lot left anyway.¡±

    ¡°Will do!¡±

    Glancing between the tunnels, I pull a single glass lone from my Worth and press it against my thumb. Heads I go north, tails I go southeast. I flick my thumb up, catch it on the edge of the coin, and send it spinning high into the air.

    Everything goes monochrome. Colours and shades flip into exactly two tones of black and white, painting the world in an extremely simplistic and off-putting way. The coin slows to a crawl in the air. Pure white sparks fly from heads, and a deep black aura emanates from tails.

    Twist Fate.

    Heads or Tails.

    Best or Worst.

    It¡¯s never as clean as black or white.

    Call it.

    The coin flickers, and the sides trade colours. Now the black lets sparks fly, and a white aura nearly blinds me. Words stick in my throat like tar-coated molasses. Somehow, I know time is running out. There¡¯s a decision to be made¨Cbut there¡¯s really only one option.

    ¡°Best for me.¡±

    All the monochrome flickers, then starts to move. It peels away from the reality underneath, drawn inexorably towards my coin as it starts to spin uncontrollably. Like the eye of a whirlpool it devours everything around it until normal returns, hovers in place like magic, then crashes to the ground like a meteor.

    ¡°Eep!¡± Pearl yelps, then gasps as she stares at the ground. ¡°Did that just break the glass?!¡±

    Chunky cracks scatter away from my coin. Which embedded itself deep in the glass. I stare down at it in disbelief, fully aware of how strong the glass actually is. Tails stares up at me. Flecks of deep black flake off of it and flutter down towards the southeast tunnel, blatantly reminding me of what tails signifies.

    I kneel down and press my fingertip to the coin. ¡°Why now? Why wouldn¡¯t it work before, but now it does?¡±

    Pearl leans in too, but she¡¯s a whole lot more curious than I am. ¡°What did you do? Ooh, is that another one of your class skills? Does it work like a magic compass?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, Pearl, I¡¯ve got no idea.¡± I withdraw the coin, then dust off my hands and turn to the southeast tunnel. ¡°Apparently that¡¯s the best way for us to go.¡±

    ¡°Cool.¡± She whispers as I start towards our destination. ¡°Oh! I promised you an explanation about the crystal. And I used the time we were descending to try and make it as free of important information as possible so the system doesn¡¯t try to make your head explode.¡±

    Aw, how thoughtful of her. I wait for her to start, then wave for her to go ahead when I notice she¡¯s also waiting for me.

    She nods, clears her throat, and begins.

    ¡°Our minds are all that¡¯s keeping our bodies from dissolving into piles of goo. Um, ¡®our¡¯ and ¡®us¡¯ here means me¨Cthe shellraisers¨Cjust so you¡¯re not confused. When we die, sometimes those of us with really strong minds can keep our bodies from completely goo-ifying for a while. Like if someone wanted to sacrifice themselves to plug up the singular entrance to a really important network of tunnels. They¡¯d still be alive¨Cbut¡­ barely. It would be like living in the moment between being fatally wounded and actually dying.¡±

    Pearl pauses and wipes at her eyes. She takes a few long breaths to center herself, then continues.

    ¡°There¡¯s also something we can do in death to¡­ help our own people. Telling you the details would definitely give you a headache, but it¡¯s like taking parts from a corpse to make sure other people live.¡±

    Like an organ donor dying in a car crash. ¡­No. This is a conscious choice at the very end¨Clike an organ donor in the ambulance, fully aware they¡¯re going to die, and they choose to pass away instead of being pumped full of drugs that might give them a one percent chance of living but that would ruin their organs for transplant.

    Truly selfless. As I run my fingers along the warm glass wall, I know I wouldn¡¯t be able to do it. I¡¯d take that one percent chance.

    ¡°The¨Cth-the¡­¡± Pearl¡¯s voice breaks. She quietly sobs for a second, but soldiers through and swallows around all the grief she must be feeling. ¡°The pain we feel in that last moment is absolutely horrific. It uses our thoughts to crystallize our body, putting our minds in a living nightmare to keep our body from withering to uselessness. And I __________________ _____ ___________________ ___ ______________.¡±

    Instead of pain, a profound sadness falls upon me with this censorship. Like a soaking wet weighted blanket of misery and regrets. Pearl breaks out into heaving sobs, her entire body shaking like a leaf at whatever she just admitted to. I wish I could be there for her. Even though I¡¯ve only known her for less than a day, seeing anyone in this kind of despair is¡­ unnerving.

    Damn the system for not letting me know.

    Honesty, I don¡¯t know what to do with the blubbering shell over my ear. So¡­ I don¡¯t do anything. I just walk. Continuing towards our destination while Pearl comes to terms with whatever she had to do.

    I stick my hands in my pockets and stare up at the ceiling. There¡¯s not much I can even relate to her on this level. I¡¯ve still got both my grandparents who didn¡¯t die before I was born, all my close family is alive and healthy, and I never had any pets to lose while I was growing up. Hell, I never even lost a precious stuffed animal as a kid. All my failures have been¡­ well, personal. None of them were tragic, either; just mundane or disappointing.

    All that¡¯s said and done now, though. I¡¯m here. I don¡¯t have to go back. I know there¡¯s some way back to earth, since those two who pushed me towards the coin definitely had classes of their own. Plus everyone else the news has talked about. Not sure I want to go back at all, but that could also be the bitter unpaid employee in me talking.

    At least¡­ not for a long time. Months, preferably, but if all this ends up being a two week vacation from the real world then I¡¯ll take it. Even if it comes with getting fired and Jazz chewing me out for disappearing. ¡­And maybe losing my place in my program.

    I sigh quietly and stare down the dark yet warmly lit tunnel. No matter what reality turns out to be, there¡¯s going to be consequences. Hell, I could end up like that burnt corpse in the tunnel at the end of this. Really, there¡¯s only one thing I can do; enjoy my time here to the fullest. And accept that whatever happens at the end of two weeks is going to happen no matter what I do.

 Chapter 15: Resting Theories

    For the first half-hour, I just walk. Not quite alone with my thoughts, since Pearl¡¯s still right here with me, but I might as well be. She says a few things every now and again, but it¡¯s beyond obvious that she¡¯s working through some things on her own. Things that she must¡¯ve never gone through before and is really struggling with the implications of. Unfortunately, I¡¯m an absolutely terrible shoulder to cry on, since the system censors out ninety percent of the specifics.

    She never really ¡®gets over it¡¯, which I can¡¯t blame her for. But she does pull herself together, and then the conversation turns casual. She asks me quite a bit about earth, I answer to the best of my abilities, and the more we talk the more she seems¡­ well, both curious and horrified. Horrious? Currified? Eh, there¡¯s probably a real word for it, but I¡¯ve got much bigger things on my mind.

    ¡°So you worked for a company that trades in information, which has little to no physical wares to sell, and you aren¡¯t being paid at all?¡± She reiterates in disbelief for the second time. ¡°How can your clients trust information coming from people who aren¡¯t properly compensated?¡±

    I shrug, but she makes a damn good point. ¡°I guess we¡¯re just used to it. And I wasn¡¯t the one making the info we sold¨CI just¡­ organized it for the people who did.¡±

    ¡°See?! That¡¯s entirely my point!¡± She exclaims. ¡°How can anyone trust that you didn¡¯t manipulate the information because you have no stake in its sale? If I gathered information and gave it to someone without paying them, I wouldn¡¯t trust that it ends up in a usable state. Like¡­ that¡¯s pretty much a guarantee that a map would be made wrong or that a guidebook says a poisonous berry is actually a really tasty treat!¡±

    ¡°Just cultural differences, I guess. Don¡¯t forget that I was doing it for free because I was trying to get a job after that, so there was a tangible benefit for me.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Were you guaranteed a job at that company after you finished your period of free labour? Because from the way you talked about your education, it really doesn¡¯t seem like you were guaranteed anything from anything you did. And I¡¯m not completely sure about how your money works, but wouldn¡¯t you have to work for at least¡­ four years to pay off your education?¡±

    I groan and cover my face with my hands. ¡°God, don¡¯t remind me. Just¡­ let me have this little adventure in wonderland before I get ripped back to horrible reality.¡±

    Pearl laughs, but there¡¯s a bitter edge to it. ¡°Wonderland. If that¡¯s a combination of wonderful and¡­ land, then you¡¯ve got the wrong place. If the rest of the world is anything like what I remember it was, then this is the most peaceful place we¡¯ve got left.¡±

    ¡°I said wonderland, not peace-land.¡±

    ¡°Oh, well, then yes. Our world is very beautiful, dangerous, and prosperous. Okay, maybe not that last one depending on what¡¯s happened to the other races since I got turned into a quest item. I¡¯d like to meet some of them again. Some of my old friends might¡¯ve survived.¡±

    ¡°That probably depends on how long you¡¯ve been sealed away for.¡± I prod. ¡°Which is¡­?¡±

    ¡°A long time, probably. Or it could¡¯ve been just a few months. The system put me in some kind of induced sleep when there wasn¡¯t someone with a Class near me, and every time I woke up, it was¡­ different?¡± She pauses to think. ¡°Not, like, thousands of years or anything, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re thinking. The first time there were a bunch of shellraisers with me working the place that you saw destroyed. Then the second it was all broken down, but in a ¡®recently abandoned¡¯ kind of way. All the times after that were pretty much just like now.¡±

    Now I¡¯m no expert in decay, but the kind of destruction and dilapidation in that cavern didn¡¯t look like the work of a few years. It looked purposefully destroyed by something or other¨Cand since the everdriftwood seems like it doesn¡¯t actually decay, there wasn¡¯t any easy way to tell how long since that was.

    ¡°Pearl, the first time you talked to me, you thought you were hallucinating. If you know that you only woke up when someone with a class was close to you, then why would you think you were hallucinating?¡±

    She lets out a massive sigh and rests her cheek on one open palm. ¡°Because I started doubting whether that was true after number four. It happened at completely random times, and every time it did, I was ignored. What kind of person ignores a quest item? Especially one that actually talks to them? It¡¯s just¡­ so rude!¡±

    Her cheeks puff up in frustration, which is absolutely adorable. But she¡¯s got a damn good point. Even if I wanted to ignore her when I found her, I would¡¯ve at least checked out what was going on before I did. Anyone in my situation would¡¯ve. Well¡­ any human would¡¯ve.

    ¡°When we were talking before I bought you, you said you couldn¡¯t see anything. You should¡¯ve just heard everything going on around you and nothing more. How could you tell what the market looked like if you couldn¡¯t even see me?¡±

    The question hangs in the air for a good long moment. I fully expect her to scramble for an answer, but more than anything, she just looks¡­ confused. Like she hadn¡¯t questioned why she had those memories but also couldn¡¯t see anything at all.

    I shake my head and gesture down the tunnel. ¡°Forget I asked. Can you tell how far away the leaking room is?¡±

    ¡°No, I won¡¯t forget you asked. Because it doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± She mumbles and scrunches her forehead in thought. ¡°How did I know what happened? I can¡¯t remember what any of the Class-holding people looked like, how many shellraisers were still alive, or anything else. But I can remember what the market looked like every time I woke up.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it had something to do with the stand you were on?¡± I offer. ¡°It could¡¯ve connected you to the market every time it activated, or something.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It could also be that my quest involves the market somehow, and that I was supposed to tell you all this without questioning anything at all.¡± She huffs in annoyance. ¡°I don¡¯t like this. There¡¯s a chance I¡¯m leading you down a really dangerous path without knowing it, and I don¡¯t want to do that to you. ¡­Speaking of paths, we¡¯re about fifteen minutes away from the room. I haven¡¯t felt anything at all, but that doesn¡¯t mean there isn¡¯t anything there.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at that. ¡°You¡¯ve got invisible monsters hanging out around here?¡±

    ¡°Not technically invisible, but immune to my senses. At least my hyper-weakened senses since I was put in quest jail.¡±

    ¡°Noted. I¡¯ll be careful.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°You better be. I don¡¯t want you triggering the healing backlash in the middle of another super important moment.¡±

    Neither do I, my shell-confined friend. Neither do I.

    <hr>

    Almost an hour later, a small-ish room in the tunnels comes into view. Before I can get excited about anything, I notice that the trickle from the ceiling¡¯s got a very¡­ sandy look to it. I jog to get in close enough to confirm that my eyes weren¡¯t playing tricks on me, and unfortunately, I¡¯ve got pretty good eyesight.

    Where there was supposed to be a pool of sweet, sweet water now lies a mound of coarse, dry sand. I share a look with Pearl, then sigh in exhaustion and let my pack drop to the floor. I follow a second later, positioning myself so the side of my head with Pearl on it doesn¡¯t touch my backpack.

    As I lie on the warm glass, head resting uncomfortably against a backpack full of things that could be called anything but soft, one thought rattles through my head like a marble in a metal mixing bowl.

    I really should¡¯ve bought a sleeping bag.

    <hr>

    Morning comes. Or¡­ however long I slept that gets me feeling at least sort of rested. I swish my mouth with what little water I¡¯ve got left, glance down at the sand-filled pit that was supposed to be overflowing with water, and lament at what could¡¯ve been.

    Pearl stares down at the sand and sighs. ¡°Sorry it¡¯s not as cool as I made it out to be.¡±

    I spit the water onto the ground, then shrug. ¡°Not your fault things change over the years. What scares me is that this is what my skill called the ¡®better¡¯ way to go.¡± I turn and stare back down the way we¡¯d come. ¡°Wonder what kind of monsters were waiting for us down the other path.¡±

    Or, in the much weirder option, if that one would¡¯ve had a functioning reservoir. One that¨Csomehow¨Cwould¡¯ve been worse for us than having no water at all. Maybe it¡¯d give me hepatitis, or tuberculosis, or the magical version of either of those. But I have a water bottle that magically purifies that shit. So probably not.

    But what if it was? What am I missing by being here? I pull my meal replacement potion out of my pack as I return the bottle, then take a few quick gulps of tasteless slurry until my throat won¡¯t let any more go down. It doesn¡¯t help me think, but it does curb my hunger

    ¡°Your skill said it gave you the best outcome, right?¡± Pearl asks as I heft my pack back over my shoulders. ¡°Did it tell you what its definition of ¡®best¡¯ is?¡±

    ¡°No, it did not. Why? Do you know something?¡±

    Pearl taps her chin thoughtfully. ¡°Maybe. I don¡¯t know a lot about skills since they¡¯re purely system based, but I knew a lot of people that complained about their skills not working the way they wanted them to. But they were very consistently not working that way. Like¡­ someone wants to mix red and blue together to make purple. But instead of mixing, they swirl together to make really pretty spirals. And no matter what they do, any colours they mix turn into spirals.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like that theoretical person needs to learn to adapt.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way of looking at it. But what if that person¡¯s skill said ¡®any paints you mix will be perfect¡¯? In their opinion, a perfect paint is one that¡¯s completely different from the ones it started as. But in the system¡¯s eyes, the mix itself is perfect¨Ca swirl so equal and proportioned that anyone would look at it and go ¡®how¡¯d you get it so perfect¡¯?¡±

    She gestures back at the sandy reservoir, grains still slowly trickling down from above, for emphasis.

    ¡°We need to learn what the system defines ¡®best¡¯ as before we can really trust your skill.¡±

    I rub the back of my head, tangling my fingers in matted hair with a sigh of reluctant agreement. ¡®Shield¡¯ didn¡¯t work exactly as I was first shown, and my skill somehow doubled a non-Worth coin, which wasn¡¯t in the initial explanation. Maybe I¡¯d get enough info when my Mind was high enough, but that didn¡¯t stop me from dying to the ¡®best¡¯ scenario on the way to getting that stat.

    ¡°You know what the worst part is? I don¡¯t even know how to trigger it. It didn¡¯t force a coin to land the right way, it couldn¡¯t point me in the right direction when I tried to randomly decide where to go, and then it somehow triggered when I did both of those at once. Maybe¡­ it¡¯s got a more complicated activation trigger than I thought.¡±

    ¡°Or much stricter activation confines.¡± Pearl suggests. ¡°Its definition of ¡®likely¡¯ could be something like¡­ an event that has at least a forty percent chance of happening.¡±

    ¡°So when I tried to randomly walk into the desert, it could¡¯ve seen a one percent chance of that thing happening. So even though there were only two results¨CI find the thing I was looking for or I don¡¯t¨Cit was extremely unlikely I actually chose the right way. And if we expand on that¡­ a ¡®better¡¯ option could mean a whole lot of things.¡±

    Like, for example, throwing me into the path of some monster because it gives me Worth and materials. Or shoving me at something that¡¯s easier to deal with, even though it¡¯s not where I really need to go. Hell, it could even look at literally everything I have¨Cpotions, Worth, spells, skills¨Cand put it into some kind of complex algorithm that changes on the fly based on what I¡¯m equipped to deal with at the moment.

    If I knew how it worked, I could work around it. But flying blind makes it just as much a liability as an asset. Problem is that we don¡¯t have much of a choice. But I''ve got to make a decision, and I think I¡¯ve settled on one I¡¯m pretty happy with.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to hold off using it unless it¡¯s for a choice we¡¯d otherwise be flying blind on. I¡¯m pretty sure that tossing that coin is what triggered it, so none of that from now on.¡± I decide, then look to Pearl for confirmation. ¡°You see anything wrong with that logic?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°It seems solid to me. Um, watch out. There¡¯s a pretty big hole in the ceiling up ahead that¡¯s partially caved the tunnel in.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said these tunnels were clear.¡±

    ¡°I said they were clear up until the reservoir. And¡­ they¡¯re still pretty clear from now on.¡± She says defensively. ¡°Just keep a shield in your hand in case something pops out of the sand, okay?¡±

    I roll my eyes and pull free a single glass lone. ¡°I¡¯m working with real money here, Pearl. Don¡¯t know exactly what happens when I run out, but there¡¯s one crispy prime example I¡¯d be willing to¡­ wait, am I stupid?¡±

    With a flourish that¡¯s a little too grandiose, I summon my Class Card and flip over to my spells. If I¡¯m actually going to use real Worth for these things, then I need to be getting the most out of it. A quick flip and call doubles the glass lone, preparing it for a spell I haven¡¯t gotten the chance to try out yet.

    Shoreline Risemutation.

    Convert something into its equivalent in; ghost quarters.

    I flick the coin through my fingers, then hold it between my thumb and forefinger as I concentrate on it. There¡¯s no tutorial for this puppy, but if it¡¯s anything like projectile or shield, it should be simple enough.

    ¡°Risemutate.¡±

    The coin shivers as power flows into it from my fingertips. But the exact same sensation as trying to use my coinbound shield for the first time halts my progress. The spell wants another command¨Cbut the description says I can only make ghost quarters. Luckily for me, I¡¯ve got someone who knows about this particular one.

    ¡°Pearl, can this spell only make ghost quarters?¡±

    She goes to do something, but my vision goes white. Her voice meets my ears in a series of toneless blurts of noise, completely indecipherable into anything close to useful. But that itself is useful to me.

    A smile rises to meet my eyes and I spin the coin between my fingers. ¡°The system censored you there. But in trying to hide something from me, it just confirmed that whatever you said was too important for me to hear. Unlike you simply saying ¡®yes¡¯ would¡¯ve.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to say anything else, then. Looks like you found your answer all on your own.¡±

    Indeed I did. Now all I need to do is find out what that answer means.

 Chapter 16: Greater Than The Parts

    ¡°Risemutate: ghost quarters.¡±

    The coin in my fingers shivers, cracks along its side, and slides apart with a spray of Pearl-coloured energy. The two halves quickly transform from glass into the strange material ghost quarters are made from, except¡­ not quite the same. They¡¯re a little larger¨Cthough still the same size as a glass lone¨Cand they feel far sturdier than the others.

    Twice as sturdy. I don¡¯t know how I know that, but they¡¯re exactly twice as sturdy as the ghost quarters I dug out of the sand. Bigger and sturdier, but with the exact same patterns on either side.

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s convenient. Looks like I don¡¯t have to memorize how another new coin feels. And now I¡¯ve got two shields instead of¨C¡±

    A screen pops up in my face, cutting me off mid-sentence.

    Information update: Ghost Quarter (Approaching True).

    A ghost quarter created using a method far closer to their origination.

    If used in place of Worth in the casting of a spell, utilization of a skill, or of any non-transaction means, carries a Worth of 1. Worthless otherwise.

    ¡°...Okay, I guess I should¡¯ve expected something like that.¡± I say as I inspect the coins a little closer now. ¡°I guess that should¡¯ve been obvious when it split into two, not four.¡±

    But¡­ what does the message actually mean? If the ghost quarters aren¡¯t just a native species, then someone had to have created them. Or they were much more powerful once, and then got weaker over time. Either through someone¡¯s manipulation or some kind of weird-ass regressive evolution.

    Pearl taps on my cheek to get my attention. ¡°I have something I want to say, but I think it¡¯ll trigger the censorship again.¡±

    ¡°Nice.¡± I say with a grin. ¡°Means I¡¯m on the right path here.¡±

    ¡°On the right path with what?¡±

    I wave her comment off. ¡°Just a theory I¡¯ve got knocking about in my brain. Can¡¯t speak it into being because of the censorship. You seem like a smart girl, so you can fill in the blanks yourself.¡±

    ¡°Ohhh. I think I understand.¡± Pearl says knowingly, then nods at my new and improved ghost quarters. ¡°Do you think you can double those or do they still count as the same initial coin?¡±

    I grin and split the coins, one in each hand. ¡°One really easy way to find out.¡±

    First, the right. I flick the coin into the air, and it¡­ stutters for a second. Almost like it missed the opportunity to spin once, then resumed its normal trajectory without any adjustment. I feel something coming off of it that heavily reminds me of my Class Card¡¯s screen, then that too disappears into nothing a moment later when I snatch the coin from midair and press it into my palm.

    ¡°Tails.¡± I say with heavy suspicion.

    The coin flashes as I reveal it, then doubles in effective Worth. Turning one glass lone into two ghost quarters that¡¯ve each got two Worth of effective power. But it felt like the system did a double-take at the action. Like someone who had to double-check the rulebook after they saw someone doing something shady, but not necessarily illegal.

    ¡°Did it work?¡± Pearl leans in a little closer. ¡°It looks like it worked. But you don¡¯t look super happy. Is there a catch?¡±

    I shake my head and switch the hands my coins are in. ¡°There isn¡¯t one yet, but I have a strange feeling that might change down the line. The system resisted my skill triggering for a second.¡±

    ¡°Oh. That¡¯s bad.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me.¡± I chuckle as I flip the other coin.

    It doesn¡¯t stutter in midair, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m scott free. The verdict could be being debated this very moment by¡­ however the system comes to its decisions. A moment later I snatch it out of the air and empower it with a simple thought of ¡®heads¡¯.

    Pearl watches it glow with obvious interest. ¡°If you can use your spells and skills without saying anything, then why do you say things sometimes?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Dunno. Whatever feels right in the moment, I guess. The first time I used them I kind of felt like I needed to speak. After that¡­ they just need some kind of trigger.¡±

    ¡°You must have a really vivid imagination. I knew someone who couldn¡¯t see anything when he closed his eyes, didn¡¯t have an internal monologue, and got his tongue chopped off in a fight. He had to use hand symbols to cast his spells, and he got so good at it that people made an entire disciple of spellcasting based on his workaround for his disabilities.¡±

    ¡°Damn. He must¡¯ve been one hell of a mage.¡±

    Pearl nods vigorously in agreement. ¡°Almost everyone else who tried to copy him failed, and even the ones who succeeded would¡¯ve been better off thoughtcasting. But he did wonders for making spells accessible to everyone, not just the species with inner monologues or vivid imaginations.¡±

    ¡°Some species don¡¯t have imaginations?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. But there are species without psychic powers, or the ability to see heat, or¡­ heck, just look at me!¡± She gestures proudly at herself. ¡°Do you think you could turn yourself into goo, control it with your bioelectricity, and live in a shell?¡±

    That¡¯s a hard no from me, but she¡¯s got a good point. If I¡¯m going to meet people from other species I¡¯m going to have to adjust my expectations. Just because Pearl is pretty normal personality-wise, it doesn¡¯t change the fact that she¡¯s sentient goo living in a shell that¡¯s harder than steel.

    ¡°Point taken, understood, and internalized. I¡¯ll try not to assume anything too quickly about whoever I meet.¡±

    ¡°Just do what you did with me and you¡¯ll be fine.¡±

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    I raise an eyebrow in question. ¡°And what, pray tell, did I do with you?¡±

    ¡°You treated me like a person.¡± Pearl says seriously. ¡°As long as you do that, you¡¯ll have a much easier time finding out who the jerks and good people are. No matter what they look like or if they¡¯ve got an imagination or not. Now start moving those feet. We¡¯ve got a cave-in to get to!¡±

    Pearl stretches her arm down the tunnel as if there was any other way to go. I roll my eyes and take both my empowered ghost quarters in my right hand, then set off down the tunnel to hurry towards a massive roadblock. Not my idea of worth hurrying for.

    But¡­ with less than two weeks left, I guess everything¡¯s worth hurrying for.

    <hr>

    After a little break for some searing pain, during which I had to peel Pearl off of me to stop her from filling my throat with the last of my health potion, we finally got moving. It¡¯s almost impressive how same-y the tunnels are, so much so that there¡¯s absolutely nothing to look at for the¡­ however long it takes to get to the cave-in. I¡¯d guess it took about fifty minutes, but it could¡¯ve easily been two hours or thirty minutes.

    All to get to a massive pile of wet sand that¡¯s filled ninety percent of the tunnel. I can¡¯t even see the break in the glass from here¨Cjust tiny holes all throughout the cave-in that emanate a¡­ weird aura. And the smell¨Cgod, the smell. It¡¯s like someone rubbed a dead fish in rotten eggs, threw it in a vat of piss, and let it evaporate in the hot summer sun until only something that could be used in a war crime remained.

    ¡°Hurgh.¡± I groan and lift my shirt over my mouth and nose. ¡°What died here, and what threw it up after it tried to eat it?¡±

    Pearl gags and retreats into her shell. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but please don¡¯t describe it to an uncomfortable degree.¡± Her voice echoes out of her shell, but the disgust in it is untouched. ¡°If I had to guess, I¡¯d bet that the water made the sand too hard to burrow through. So whatever was in it got stuck and died.¡±

    I stare at the rotting pile of pristine sand as my stomach rises into my throat. No matter how I choose to do it, I¡¯m going to have to get closer to that horrible scent. There¡¯s a small gap near the top, just big enough for me to slide in on my stomach, but I¡¯ve seen too many documentaries on people who died in caves to risk that. Pearl did say that the sand was thick enough that everything inside rotted and died, so maybe it¡¯s thick enough to support me digging a tunnel through it?

    With a deep breath I gather my courage and walk up to the putrid cave-in. I press my fingertips to the sand and try to force them in with just my strength alone, but it feels like pressing against a shell of warming ice. Hard, cold, and with a sheen of water on top that makes it slippery as hell. God, does that sheen stink to high heavens.

    I flick the water from my fingertips and look up at the maybe two-foot wide opening. Before I commit to anything, I should try and get a good idea of how long the cave-in actually is. I take a slight step back and slam one heel into the pile, gouging out a foothold one chunk of icy sand at a time. Once it¡¯s big enough to get my toes in I stop, lean back to look at my handiwork, then swallow hard and stick my fingers into a few of the premade holes to pull myself up.

    One foothold isn¡¯t much to work with. It strains under my weight ever so slightly, and I can hear icy sand tinkle against the glass, but it holds. I yank myself up with a grunt and slide into the opening arms first, then summon my Class Card for some light.

    The golden glow reaches into a rapidly narrowing opening. Less than a dozen feet in the sand presses tightly up against the glass, completely sealing my ¡®easy¡¯ way forward. But Pearl hadn¡¯t said anything about a dead end. There¡¯s got to be some kind of other way¡­ yup, there it is. Instead of continuing up, the opening drops down a few feet before it hits the glass. Except for one major problem.

    It¡¯s all of one foot wide.

    No part of me could fit through that even if I was in perfect shape, and no part of me would want to go down there anyway. I shift my class card to get a slightly closer look at the walls, and notice that they¡¯re not like the rest of the spotless glass. They¡¯re scuffed up and even a little scratched¨Calmost like something clawed its way through here. Something whose body was rough enough to damage the glass, but that didn¡¯t damage the sand below.

    Actually, scratch that. The sand¡¯s even more beat up than the glass. Like someone went over everything with rough grit sandpaper and an ice pick.

    ¡°Pearl, do you think a shark-dog could¡¯ve done this kind of damage?¡±

    She sticks her head out of her shell for a second to take a look, then slips right back in. ¡°Technically, yes, but also no. A full-grown one probably could, but it would be way bigger than this hole. And one small enough to fit wouldn¡¯t have the muscles, skin, or teeth to do all this damage.¡±

    I slide out with a grunt and land on my feet. ¡°If there was a shark-dog that size with the strength of an adult, do you think it could do this?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Definitely.¡± Pearl confirms without a second thought. ¡°Though the only chance of that happening is system intervention. And I don¡¯t really see a reason why it would do anything like that for a non-sapient species.¡±

    ¡°Unless that non-sapient species got forcibly evolved. Or if the system decided to make it way more powerful as a part of your quest.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ guess that could happen. Unless someone made a digging tool out of their corpses.¡±

    I snort and flex my fingers in thought. There¡¯s all this glass around us, and unless someone thought to make a drill out of the shark-dogs before they came down here, they¡¯d have no way of going back to get the parts. I¡¯m ninety percent sure this is just some monster, but with all the Worth I don¡¯t have, one semi-intelligent monster might be too much.

    I run my hand over the sandy surface riddled with ghost quarter holes. If I¡¯m going to stand a chance against whatever¡¯s at the end of that tunnel, I need more ammo. From the smell of it, though, all this ammo¡¯s been dead for a pretty long time. But sand dollars are just skeletons, right? So why not ghost quarters?

    Pearl gags in disgust as I jam as much of a finger into the hole as I can get.

    ¡°Oh, what are you¡­ that¡¯s¡­ huuurgh.¡± She groans and looks away. ¡°That smell won¡¯t come out no matter how hard you wash your hands. You¡¯ll have to cut off your fingers if you ever want to make friends again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll just be a stinky-fingered hermit for the rest of my life, then.¡± I chuckle, then pause to dry heave. Pearl laughs, then also dry heaves. ¡°Really hope you¡¯re not right, Pearl.¡±

    ¡°So do I.¡±

    My finger scrapes against something slimy and¡­ stringy. Before I can stop myself I push a little further, and the thing spreads around my finger like a thousand threads of rotting meat. Saliva pours into my mouth as my throat starts to tighten, warning me of the upcoming unpleasantness that¡¯s pretty much a done deal now. I choke down the vomit as best as I can, and with teary eyes, focus on depositing the thing under my finger.

    The hard-ish thing I was pushing against disappears, but the rotting whatever stays behind.

    Ghost Quarter Skeleton

    Can be used just like its still-living counterpart, but is far more fragile and volatile.

    Carries a Worth of one, but cannot be sold and does not count towards Net Worth.

    ¡­Urgh.

    <hr>

    After I finish spilling the contents of my stomach onto the poor glass floor, going back to the foul-smelling mound of sand is a¡­ test of spirit, to say the least. But the hundred or so easily accessible holes call me with a grim reminder of my own Worth. It takes a lot more willpower than I¡¯d like to admit to walk back up to the sand, stick my fingers into the rotting holes, and fill my last remaining inventory slot with fifty of the volatile coins.

    By the time I finish, my face is covered in more tears and sweat than when I was an inch away from the beacon. And I¡¯ve got a massive bone to pick with this damned pile of rot.

    I summon a skeleton coin, flip it, and snatch it out of the air as my skill takes hold of it. The thing feels infinitely less solid than anything else I¡¯ve touched, but within that fragility is something dangerous. A single thought of ¡®tails¡¯ doubles whatever it was worth, and I press it against my thumbnail pointed at the sand pile¡¯s center mass.

    Time to get more than a little practice with Projectile.

 Chapter 17: Explosivity

    The coin starts to break apart the moment projectile slides into it. I flick it with all my might, shattering the fairly delicate skeleton even as it coalesces into a whirl of dangerous magic. Understanding flows into my mind in delicate ribbons of light blue¨Cthe same colour as my Mind stat.

    When a spell is cast, a small amount of magic is reserved to keep the caster safe from their own spell.

    This ¡®blowback protection¡¯ is a function of all Class based casting methods.

    The material used for this spell has absolutely no blowback protection.

    Imperfect casts will seriously harm you.

    While the information flows into my mind, the projectile fully appears in all its violent glory. The others I¡¯ve cast before can¡¯t hold a candle to the wicked storm of magic surrounding a single black orb in the very center. Tendrils lash out from the barely restrained whirl and lick against the glass, leaving wickedly clean gouges and devouring whatever would¡¯ve been kicked up.

    I instinctively hold my breath and raise my hand, which is somehow clutching a regular ghost quarter filled with shield. My entire being tells me to back away. It screams at me that these skeletons are way too dangerous. But a lone voice overpowers them in an excited whisper.

    ¡°You might be able to get coinbound projectile. Then there won¡¯t be any downsides at all.¡±

    Pearl gurgles, raises a hand to her mouth, then leans to the side with wide eyes and vomits out a mouthful of deep black¡­ stuff. More than anything, I agree with her. But my body won¡¯t let me. My mind won¡¯t let me. I try to take a step back from the projectile to make space, but something takes hold of me and forces me to stand my ground. Not in some bullshit philosophical way, either. It actually feels like there¡¯s something pressing down all around me, forcing me to stand and watch as the skeleton-made projectile finally touches the mound of sand.

    Light and sound assault my senses, followed immediately by shards of razor-sharp glass and frozen sand. I raise my arms to block my face, but the coin in my hand has already faded away to create a shield tall enough to block the destruction. In that split second between my recognition and calling the shield, the projectile already did enough damage for some serious shrapnel.

    A huge chunk of which is lodged in my shield. At face level. Just maybe¡­ if I¡¯d been in the middle of taking a step backwards¡­ maybe it wouldn¡¯t have had a shield to lodge into. Or maybe I would¡¯ve been far enough from the explosion that the shield would¡¯ve blocked the shrapnel that left these seeping cuts all over my body.

    ¡°Shelby? Are you okay?¡± Pearl sounds more than a little stunned as she shakes her head.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± I assure her, even though the white spots are still clearing from my vision. ¡°How about you? Still in one piece?¡±

    She laughs shakily. ¡°As much as I can be. Holy, moly, that projectile, though! That hole has to be at least five feet wide, and it even scoured away some glass!¡±

    I buy a few seconds of vision-come-back time with a few noncommittal grunts. The scene that slowly comes into focus is straight out of some kind of secret military weapon testing. Random chunks of the glass have been carved out one inch wide and six inches long leading up to a mess of a crater in the frozen sand.

    Just like Pearl said, it looks five feet wide. With a texture like some crazy person carved it out of the wall with a chainsaw and their fingernails. All the debris is strewn about on the floor, and the horrific stench is¡­ nowhere near as bad anymore. That¡¯s a wonderful surprise, compared to the very much not wonderful surprise of what the crater has partially revealed.

    It¡¯s hard to tell since my projectile pulped most of the visible parts, but there¡¯s a very obvious flank of meat showing through the left side of the crater. Now I¡¯m no taxidermist, or even a hunter, but from the fact that it isn¡¯t bleeding¨Cand the tiny ice crystals in the meat¨Cit¡¯s been in here a good long while. I almost reach out to deposit it in my inventory, but a lack of space reminds me why that¡¯s a bad idea.

    ¡°Is that a great white dane?¡± Pearl asks as I lean in close. ¡°Funny. That muscle structure¡¯s a lot more¡­ condensed than the ones I know. The one you sold Gil can¡¯t hold a candle to this one. When it was alive, I mean.¡±

    I pull the mana potion out of my inventory, stick it in my backpack, and gently touch my fingers to the frozen corpse. Spasm rock through its entire body, expelling thin rivulets of half-ice half-blood that clatter against the glass and start to melt. Then¡­ nothing. No matter how long I wait or prod at the meat, the shark-dog doesn¡¯t move.

    So was it a spasm in death, or some weird post-mortem jerk? An image of parasites wiggling through the shark-dog¡¯s body comes to mind, but I shake that off with a shudder and deposit the body.

    Depthripper Speckled Grey Dane

    Predicted Worth: (77)

    Unsellable materials contained within¨Cmust be removed before sale.

    Time until decomposition: ???

    ¡°Depthripper?¡± I wonder aloud. ¡°Great white was actually a species of shark, but I¡¯ve never heard of a depthripper. Pearl?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of depthrippers before, but they aren¡¯t painted danes. They were some kind of¡­ deep sea monster. Maybe the system decided a new kind of painted dane needed to evolve?¡±

    Painted dane? Is that what that entire species is called? Eh, sure, why not. Great white, speckled grey, makes sense to me. It¡¯s¡­ oh god, the smell¡¯s starting to come back. But I just took a corpse out of the mound¨Cshouldn¡¯t that make it smell less horrific?

    ¡°The corpse must¡¯ve had some kind of¡­ smell-absorbing effect.¡± I gag and pull my shirt over my nose once again. I take a few steps back and ready a skeletal ghost quarter. ¡°Close your eyes, Pearl. I¡¯m digging through.¡±

    Projectile after projectile flies at the mound. I slowly advance, ducking a little to stand in the newly formed hole and pushing a regular shield forward as I go. It looks like a dartboard by the time I reach the other end of the sand mound, and I¡¯ve revealed another two depthrippers along the way. Maybe I cut through the tunnel, too, but I stopped caring about that when the depthripper corpses stopped absorbing the god awful smell.

    I blink putrid sweat from my eyes and glance back at the mound. ¡°There¡¯s a hundred fifty Worth worth of corpses in there¡­¡±

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°But you¡¯d have to go back into the smell.¡± Pearl shudders. ¡°Is it really worth it?¡±

    It is. I know it is. But telling my stomach and poor, poor nose that we¡¯re going back in is proving¡­ more than difficult. I take two more potions out of my inventory in preparation for the corpses, take a deep breath of slightly less tainted air, and shrug my backpack off to make the trip as short as humanly possible.

    ¡°Aw.¡± Pearl whimpers. ¡°I was hoping it wasn¡¯t worth it.¡±

    I chuckle, which wastes a little of my precious air, then break into a sprint. I duck into the tunnel and snap to the first depthripper¨Conly about fifteen feet away now¨Cand reach out to slap it as I run by. My fingers dig as deep into the frozen flesh as they can, and a thought pulls it into my inventory.

    Depthripper Speckled Grey Dane

    Predicted Worth: (57)

    Unsellable materials contained within¨Cmust be removed before sale.

    Time until decomposition: ???

    This one¡¯s worth even less than the last one. Well¡­ it did kind of look like I blew off half of its head, so maybe that had a huge effect on the value. I swallow hard as the smell closes in from all directions and push myself to the absolute limit of my human abilities. If I had any blowback left, this definitely would¡¯ve triggered it.

    Instead, I sprint the fifty or so feet to the next corpse and unceremoniously slap it into my inventory. Then I turn on a dime, ignoring the notification that pops up until I get free of the prison of cold and stench, and scoop up my backpack without even slowing down. Breaths rip free from my lungs as I sprint down the unblocked tunnel. Something starts to glow in the darkness a little down the way. Cherry red slits, like wounds gouged into the darkness itself, followed by a jagged pattern that slopes down and traces along whatever¡¯s standing there.

    ¡°Another painted dane?¡± I gasp out, tears welling in the corner of my eyes as fresh-ish air sides down my throat.

    Pearl openly weeps from the smell, and as such, all she can do is nod.

    Well, if I¡¯m going to run headfirst into it anyway, might as well see if the system¡¯s feeling generous on identifying. Maybe it¡¯ll even be important to one of my quests.

    Identification cost: 129 Worth.

    My eyes almost bulge out of their sockets at that completely unreasonable price. I skid to a stop, eyes still locked on the glowing lines that must be almost a mile away. Anything that¡¯s got an identification cost that high has to be dangerous. More than ten times as dangerous as the shark-dog if the Worth cost is relative to the danger.

    Skeletal coins fill my hand. A few weak flips empower the lot of them. ¡°Pearl.¡±

    ¡°On it.¡±

    Dark awareness creeps in from the corners of my vision, and the deep darkness surrounding the thing bleeds away. Partly. The monster is obviously some kind of painted dane¨Cit¡¯s got a similar body shape as the shark-dog¨Cbut it¡¯s a whole lot¡­ smaller. Red luminescence crawls down its neck in long, gill-like slashes. Its eyes aren¡¯t visible at all. And as it slowly starts to move towards me, the jagged pattern seems to bleed together into a mist of cherry red¡­ magic.

    Tendrils of speckled blackness spill forth onto my vision and coalesce around my left leg.

    The painted dane blurs, then reappears in the spot marked by tendrils. A coin¡¯s already left my left hand and is travelling to my right, but it won¡¯t be fast enough. The thing¡¯s jaws open wide, presenting rows and rows of saw-like teeth that are actually undulating inside of its jaw. Back and forth, up and down, fast enough to blur together in a cherry red mist.

    I focus everything I¡¯ve got on the coin in midair as the painted dane lunges for my leg. There¡¯s no need to imagine the damage it¡¯ll do if it gets a hold of me. Magic-empowered shark teeth on a magically empowered dog won¡¯t even leave bone untouched.

    Shield pours into the coin through a link that shouldn¡¯t exist. The coin cracks under the weight of the spell, then shatters completely as the painted dane starts to close its jaws around my leg.

    Teeth grind against my skin. Pain lances up my leg from brutalized skin, but it doesn¡¯t go any deeper than that. The painted dane is thrown against the wall as my shield expands into it, pressing the thing¡¯s head against the glass as cherry red struggles against my spell. I grip my chest and take a staggering step back, staring down at all the blood and torn skin that hangs off my leg like corned beef from a hastily thrown together sandwich.

    Before I can even gather myself, the painted dane locks its head towards me. Twin clear globes rest where its eyes should be, filled only with wispy red power that flows like blood in perfectly clear water. One of them flashes, and for a split second, the wisp vanishes. Then the painted dane puffs into mist and my shield finally crashes against the glass.

    I just¡­ stand there for a few seconds with my heart beating uncontrollably. Panic never sets in, but the horrific sensation of death being just around the corner never leaves.

    ¡°Pearl¡­ can healing potions regenerate limbs?¡±

    She¡¯s stunned to silence, but eventually shakes her head. ¡°That¡¯s a completely different thing. I mean, if you lost your limb and still have the severed part, maybe you could press the bloody parts together and hope the potion can do enough.¡±

    ¡°But if I lose the limb completely, I¡¯m doomed?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say ¡®doomed¡¯, but for our specific scenario¡­ it¡¯s probably a good word for it.¡±

    I gulp and look behind me. Pearl¡¯s awareness hasn¡¯t faded, but it also hasn¡¯t reacted to anything. There¡¯s nothing to make out back there, and nothing on the other side of my shield either.

    ¡°It¡­ it just teleported.¡± I state flatly, and partially in shock. ¡°This is supposed to be a damn tutorial! Why is there a teleporting murder-shark-dog in the goddamn tutorial?!¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t Gil specifically say that you aren¡¯t in a tutorial because of your class?¡±

    ¡°...Maybe, but it doesn¡¯t mean I should have to deal with shit like this when I¡¯ve got two spells, no weapons, and I¡¯m level goddamn 2. This is¡­ like¡­ a level five miniboss at least. Maybe even a level ten one considering how ripped up my leg is.¡±

    Pearl raises an eyebrow at me. ¡°How do you have a scale for this?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t, not really, but it just feels right.¡± I mutter. The painted dane slams itself into my shield out of nowhere, and I let out a pretty pathetic yelp. ¡°COOL! AWESOME! It doesn¡¯t even have to be in eyesight to teleport at us!¡±

    It grinds its teeth as red mist spews through its jowls, lets out a single deep growl, then disappears once more. As if my heart needed to be beating any faster. I try to steady my breath, but the massive web of cracks in my shield makes that an impossibility. But¡­ it didn¡¯t teleport through the shield. It slammed into it head-first, didn¡¯t even have to shake off the impact, and disappeared.

    I reach out and run my fingers over the cracks. ¡°It¡¯s not teleporting. I don¡¯t know exactly what it¡¯s doing, but since I sealed the tunnel, it couldn¡¯t get through. Plus, it already crashed into it once A very visible shield taking up the entirety of the tunnel. Maybe it actually can¡¯t see. What do you think, Pearl?¡±

    I cross my arms and stick my fingers in my armpits to keep myself from trembling. Then I wait for Pearl. She takes a little too long.

    ¡°Pearl? You alright?¡±

    Slowly and cautiously, she peeks her head out of her shell. She takes a look around, then nods meekly.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t watching carefully and it really scared me. Sorry. I¡¯ll keep you as alert as I can while we¡¯re potentially in danger.¡± As she speaks, the darkness on the edge of my vision dissipates into an extremely thin outline. It makes my head throb a little. ¡°It¡¯ll put some serious strain on your mind, so when we find somewhere safe to rest, we¡¯ll have to take a day or two just to make sure you¡¯re okay. Tell me if it gets to be too much.¡±

    I grimace and rub my temples at the newfound pressure. But if a little headache means I don¡¯t get tele-devoured by a weirdly slender painted dane, I¡¯ll endure as much pressure as it takes. I grip the remaining coins as lightly as I can manage, but even that is almost too much for their brittle structure. If I¡¯m going to kill this painted dane, I can¡¯t risk my own projectiles blowing up in my hand. I need something stronger. Something I have more control over.

    I need coinbound projectiles.

 Chapter 18: Forced Evolution

    Another shield shatters in a burst of red mist. The painted dane growls even louder when it runs into the second layer, gnashes its teeth in fury, and disappears. I summon another coin and fill it with yet another shield, then create it a few inches back from my one remaining shield.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t it have¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ brain damage by now?¡±

    Somehow, even though it¡¯s been happening for over an hour, I can¡¯t get used to the thing¡¯s sudden vicious attacks. It¡¯s like there¡¯s a little part of me that¡¯s completely terrified of it, and for some reason, it¡¯s in absolute control of me.

    From how Pearl¡¯s shaking, it looks like it¡¯s got control of her, too.

    ¡°It must have a very strong skull. And some kind of shock absorber to keep from killing itself.¡± She says shakily. ¡°Isn¡¯t it a little strange that we¡¯re still completely unused to it? We¡¯re both expecting it. You¡¯ve gone through five shields. How come every single one is just as jarring as the first time?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I want to know.¡± I sigh. ¡°We¡¯ve got a sip left of health potion, so we don¡¯t have any room for trial and error. Whatever we do can¡¯t put me in yet another near-death scenario.¡±

    The painted dane crashes against my shield as if to give weight to my words. It doesn¡¯t bother growling or bearing its teeth this time¨Cit just disappears a split second after the entirety of it manifests from the mist.

    Pearl hisses through her teeth and my awareness flares. ¡°I hate being startled so much! It¡¯s why I trained for my awareness in the first place, so why does this. Still. Keep. Scaring me?!¡±

    My mind tries to close in around an answer. Something that I know should be obvious, but keeps slipping away like a grease-coated frog. I try to take a deep breath, but instead of having any kind of calming effect, it just makes my panic flare up.

    ¡°Whatever it is, the painted dane must be doing it.¡± I manage to reason. ¡°Are your thoughts super jumbled right now? Because I can¡¯t even hold on to one for more than a few seconds.¡±

    ¡°YES!¡± Pearl cries out in frustration. ¡°It feels like my awareness is being tugged in every direction all at once, and it only closes in on the real threat a split second before the painted dane appears! It¡¯s so¡­ so¡­ aggravating!¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Go back in your shell for a little bit and try to cool off. My shields will keep me safe for at least a few minutes.¡±

    She looks at me, then over her shoulder at her shell. ¡°You promise you¡¯ll be safe?¡±

    ¡°As safe as I can be.¡± I assure her. ¡°I¡¯ll be right here¨Cthrowing projectiles back the way we came to try and trigger its evolution.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t run out of coins. Make sure you have at least ten¡­ no, fifteen left to protect us. Killing this thing doesn¡¯t matter if you end up with absolutely no way to keep us safe afterwards.¡±

    I flip a coin through my knuckles and give her what I hope is a confident grin. The chattering teeth might be doing a number on my believability.

    She stares at me for a second, then reluctantly retreats into her shell. ¡°Okay, Shelby. But if you¡¯re dead when I come back out, I¡¯m going to cry a whole lot. And then the painted dane will probably kill me too. I don¡¯t want to die. And I don¡¯t want you to die. So stay alive. Super alive. The kind of alive without any wounds that could make you bleed to death.¡±

    ¡°Just go, worrywart.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay! Please be safe!¡±

    With that, Pearl finally completely pulls herself into her shell. The awareness doesn¡¯t leave along with her, still a stain on the edge of my vision that alerts me to the painted dane the moment it appears. With it, I¡¯m fast enough to get up a shield to keep myself from getting killed. But nowhere near fast enough to set one up without getting hurt. And if the painted dane starts going for my vitals instead of my legs, that ¡®getting hurt¡¯ changes to ¡®getting killed¡¯ just like that.

    I wince as the awareness snaps into place the moment before the painted dane crashes into my shield. It¡¯s just so damn persistent. I try once more to close in on that answer that should be so obvious, but it slips through my fingers like grains of sand. A few more coins than are strictly necessary fill my palms, and I pull out my Class Card to see if projectile¡¯s description has changed at all.

    Projectile

    Evolution Requirement: spend 50 Worth on this spell.

    Progress: 38/50

    Create a whirling mass of destructive magical energy that travels forwards until it runs out of energy. If used by a spellcasting class, output cannot be changed. If cast using Worth, can only be used with coins of value 1-5.

    Huh. It actually did. With info that seems actually useful, too. Must be that plus one to Mind coming in handy. Looks like if I was a spellcasting class, I¡¯d only be able to cast one kind of projectile. But because I¡¯m using Worth, I can vary the strength of the spell. Of course a spellcasting class has the Soul stat bolstering their spell¡¯s power, but it can¡¯t be that much stronger than one of these skeleton ghost quarters.

    Plus, now I know exactly how to evolve my spell; the same way I evolved shield in the first place. I keep my class card up, pre-wince as the painted dane crashes into my shield yet again, and throw a projectile-infused coin down the empty tunnel. Maybe I would¡¯ve thrown it at the painted dane if I was even slightly confident that I¡¯d hit it, but all I can imagine is projectile destroying my shield and leaving me open to attack.

    It roars down the tunnel, scraping free shards of glass as it goes. It only actually travels about fifteen feet before it dissipates, but that must be the trade-off for being so absurdly destructive. I glance over my shoulder to make sure my shields are still holding strong, then look down at my Class Card to see if the evolution requirement updates in real time.

    Evolution Progress: 40/50

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    A little better than I was expecting, honestly. Looks like it takes the value of the ghost quarter after my skill doubles it, so I only have to waste five more to get that evolution. Which I might as well do right now.

    Five casts later, a screen pops up with info I¡¯ve only seen once before. Not quite exactly the same as shield¡¯s upgrades, but the one I want is right there at the bottom.

    Defensive Evolution: Consuming Projectile. Cost: 15 Worth.

    Offensive Evolution: Farshot Projectile. Cost: 20 Worth.

    Hybrid Evolution: Seeking Projectile. Cost: 40 Worth.

    Trade Off Evolution: Coinbound Projectile. Cost: 1 Worth.

    I press on ¡®Coinbound Projectile¡¯ before the system can finish its animation informing me the spell¡¯s ready to evolve. I snap my Class Card shut just in case it needs to reset anything, then pull it open and tab over to see the description of my evolved spell.

    Coinbound Projectile

    Evolution Requirement: ???

    Progress: ???/???

    Create a whirling mass of destructive magical energy using a Worth coin as a base. Once it runs out of energy, it dissipates. Can only be used with coins of value 1-5.

    There it is. The smaller description that gives me a hell of a lot more freedom to do what I want. I flinch at the crack of the painted dane smashing into my shield and force myself not to turn around to look at it. It¡¯s going to be dead meat soon, but I need to make sure I don¡¯t accidentally scare it off before I can get a sucker punch in. Since there¡¯s no way I can beat it in a fair fight.

    I take one coin in my right hand and envision a projectile appearing a few feet away from me¨Cjust enough that I¡¯m out of its radius. For this one I imagine that it¡¯s stuck in place like one of my earlier barriers, and since it doesn¡¯t have to move, it¡¯s¡­ well¡­ I don¡¯t really know if that makes it stronger or weaker. That uncertainty travels into my coin, and I curse as I feel it tremble in my hand.

    Awareness coats my arm in liquid black. A trail explodes out to a spot on the ground more than a dozen feet away. Pain lances up my arm as the coin starts to expand, ripping at the sensitive skin on my palm. I grit my teeth, narrow my eyes, and chuck the coin as far as I physically can.

    It skitters to a stop moments before detonation. A massive ball of destruction devours the glass in a ten foot radius for all of three seconds, with tendrils that whip out to take huge gouges out of anything that dared to exist close to it. The coin stays at the epicenter for the entirety of the duration.

    Unlike shield, it looks like projectile is always linked to the coin. No¨Cprojectile emerges from the coin. That¡¯s a subtle difference, but it feels extremely important for some reason. If my heart wasn¡¯t already going at a mile a minute, that would¡¯ve definitely gotten my blood pumping. As it stands, I barely register the painted dane going for another try. The first layer of shield¡¯s almost broken, but I¡¯ve still got a second one ready to protect me.

    ¡°So I¡¯ve got more control over it, sure, but I can¡¯t just project projectiles wherever I want. A coin has to be there first.¡± I take another empowered skeleton and carefully lean over the gaping hole, then let it slide gently down to the bottom. ¡°Now let¡¯s see how close I actually need to be to cast a spell.¡±

    I jog back to the shield, rest my hand on it, and close my eyes. I concentrate as hard as I physically can, trying to get a projectile into that coin by the way of willpower alone. The painted dane crashes into the shield. My concentration falters so hard it almost twists its ankle. But it doesn¡¯t matter. There¡¯s not a single spark of a connection there.

    Not like when I first saved myself from the painted dane with a shield. So¡­ maybe shield¡¯s just a longer-range spell than projectile. When it comes to casting, I mean. It just¡­ feels like I¡¯m missing something. Something pretty damn important. Something that might have to do with what I¡¯m trying to put a projectile in instead of projectile itself.

    I take out one of my very few remaining glass lones and risemutate it into two regular ghost quarters. I flip both of them, stick the one I¡¯m not using in my pocket, and fill the other with projectile. I imagine this one as an extremely small projectile that¡¯s quick and deadly, but everything else is put into longevity. Then I flick it as far as possible into the tunnel.

    The connection to the spell doesn¡¯t falter. If anything, it¡¯s still just as strong as when it was in my hand. Even though I know it¡¯s completely unnecessary, I point my finger at it and make a shooting motion.

    The coin springs up from the ground, bursts into a projectile, and flies down the tunnel with an ear-piercing shriek. I blink in surprise and watch it fly, following the trail of whirling energy for¡­ eighteen seconds, when it finally dies out.

    ¡°Definitely works at a distance. Just not the ¡®put a spell into the coin¡¯ part.¡± I chuckle to myself.

    It even jumped up to the height I imagined before it took off. That¡¯s one useful spell. But¡­ it kind of makes everything a little paradoxical. Having more controllable projectiles means they¡¯re more useful with the regular ghost quarters, and as long as I have Pearl¡¯s awareness, I can easily use the skeletons for reflexive shields. Or proactive shields.

    The first shield shatters, and the painted dane slams into my second. It lets out a groan of frustration and annoyance, but disappears before I can turn around. Only wisps of cherry red indicate it was ever there in the first place. Floating in place between my remaining shield and where the other one had been a second ago.

    ¡­That gives me an idea. As long as everything is what it looks like, I might have a good way to get rid of this thing. I grab two skeletal coins, set one next to the remaining shield, and the other around six feet away from it. Then I transform another glass lone into two regular ghost quarters, fill those with projectiles, and set them down between the two skeletal coins.

    And that¡¯s it. I step back and admire my handiwork, hope that everything¡¯ll go smoothly, and force a tunnel-sealing shield into the skeleton closest to me. Now all that¡¯s left to do is wait¨Cboth for Pearl and the painted dane to break the first shield.

    I don¡¯t have to wait long for Pearl. Only two or three more attempts by the painted dane go by before she comes out of her shell looking seriously rested and rejuvenated. For all of ten seconds. Then she¡¯s full of panic and adrenaline just like me.

    ¡°I had something in there. I know I did. But now it¡¯s just¡­ gone.¡± She complains as she looks over my handiwork, then turns to see the crater. ¡°Holy moly, what did you do to the floor? That¡¯s at least twice as much destruction compared to what you did to the sand mound! And why¡¯s there a skeleton coin still at the bottom of it?¡±

    ¡°Whoops, forgot about that one.¡± I chuckle and look over my shoulder. ¡°Too much trouble to get it, though. It¡¯ll just have to be the backup in case this doesn¡¯t work.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s the plan? Do I have any part in it?¡±

    ¡°Aside from your awareness thing, no. Honestly, it¡¯s pretty simple¨Cwait for the dog to break one shield, create another behind it with that coin right there,¡± I point to the skeletal coin, ¡°then let those other two let loose with projectiles that should kill it. As long as they don¡¯t break the shields before the painted dane dies, we¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Pearl gulps. ¡°And if it doesn¡¯t?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve got a regular ghost quarter in my pocket and a bunch of skeletons ready to withdraw at any second. Worst comes to worst, I¡¯ll make a mobile shield around us and we can make a run for it.¡±

    ¡°To where?¡± Pearl gestures at the nothing around us. ¡°I can¡¯t sense anything for a few miles, so we¡¯d just be running until your supply of coins runs out. No¨Cwe need to kill this monster, you need to rest, and then we can safely make out way to wherever this tunnel ends.¡±

    ¡°If you have any better ideas, I¡¯m all ears.¡±

    She nods slowly as the aura around her turns deadly serious.

    ¡°You need to overdraw your Worth.¡±

 Chapter 19: Overdraw

    The word strikes me like an arrow of anxiety in the gut. ¡®Overdraw¡¯. There¡¯s more sinister undertones to that one word than you¡¯d think¨Cand I¡¯m thinking pretty much all of them right now. It could kill me. Or it could put me in debt to... the system, I guess. The idea that I could owe some huge amount of worth to an unknown party, which they could collect on at any time¡­ my stomach turns at the thought.

    But if I¡¯m going to shoot Pearl down, I should at least hear out her horrible idea first. ¡°Explain, please.¡±

    ¡°You need the all-seeing ice to fight this thing. I¡­¡± She pauses as a frown takes over her face. ¡°I don¡¯t remember why you need it, but when I was in my shell, I looked for any information on things we have that could help you fight that thing. For some reason, I was completely confident the ice would do it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ weird. But I felt something like that too¨Clike something¡¯s keeping me from understanding a really obvious thing.¡± I curl my fingers and press one knuckle against my chin. ¡°Damn it, I can¡¯t even logic out anything. Which means there could be some major thing about the painted dane I¡¯m missing.¡±

    I glance over at Pearl. ¡°You¡¯re sure using the all-seeing ice will help? Not just a little, but enough to actually risk whatever it means to go into debt?¡±

    The painted dane slams into the shield. Pearl lets out a startled eep, gathers herself with a frustrated huff, and nods.

    ¡°I was one-hundred percent confident before I came back out. The fact that I¡¯m struggling with it now kind of proves how right I was if we really think about it.¡±

    I could easily argue with that logic, but the more I see of the painted dane, the less I¡¯m confident my projectiles will do the job. Even though it¡¯s rammed into the shield close to a hundred times it hasn¡¯t taken any sort of visible damage. It hasn¡¯t slowed its assault, either, and I haven¡¯t seen it stagger or flinch a single time. That thing¡¯s got to have freakish resistance¨Cmaybe even magical resistance¨Cand if I¡¯m fighting it with some unknown handicap¡­

    It¡¯ll probably pull out some bullshit trick right when I think it¡¯s dead. And if Pearl thinks the all-seeing ice will prevent that, then I guess I¡¯m just going to have to trust her.

    ¡°Alright. Tell me what to do.¡±

    Pearl lets out a relieved breath I didn¡¯t realize she¡¯d been holding. ¡°Thank you for trusting me. You need to get out the all-seeing ice and try to use it, which should bring up some kind of screen thanks to your upgrade manual. I¡¯ll do the work from there.¡±

    I reluctantly do as she asks, opening my class card and withdrawing the all-seeing ice. It sits in my hands like the lump of frozen eyes it is, but unlike before, there¡¯s an aura around it that looks like a mixture of the Fate and Mind auras I¡¯ve seen. They swirl together without ever mixing, then combine into a small holographic screen that displays a simple message.

    Assimilate the all-seeing ice into your Class Card for 50 Worth?

    ¡°Yeah, I guess.¡±

    Gold flows from my hands, tinged in the colour-speckled black of Pearl¡¯s body, and coats the ice in a thick layer of translucent¡­ stuff. It just sits there for a few seconds before a warning alarm goes off in my head and the stuff hardens around my hands and the ice, trapping them together.

    Warning: you do not have the funds for this transaction.

    Debt incurred.

    If another being does not intervene on your behalf, you will become indebted to the system.

    Don¡¯t want that. God, I don¡¯t want that. ¡°Pearl?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on it!¡± She interrupts as gooey black erupts from her shell and splatters over the screen, hiding whatever else might be shown. ¡°Hopefully you won¡¯t get hurt if you can¡¯t physically see the censorship, but if it does hurt, I¡¯m really sorry in advance!¡±

    Moments pass as I hold my breath in anticipation. All my muscles tense in preparation for the influx of pain, or discomfort, or whatever else Pearl¡¯s going to unleash upon me. I wait. And I wait. The painted dane slams itself into my shield two more times, cracking it to the point that I know it¡¯ll withstand four more assaults.

    Pearl sighs in relief and retreats from the screen. ¡°There we go, all good and done! Um¡­ oh, gosh, the side-effect of debt looks kind of horrible. So much worse than what I remember it was¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, shit, what did you do?¡± I groan as the screen flickers away, taking the all-seeing ice with it. A popup informs me I¡¯ve just gained a new skill, but the brand new addition to my tabs calls my attention first.

    Buffs. Though it should definitely be called ¡®buffs/debuffs¡¯ if Pearl¡¯s reaction is anything to go by. I almost don¡¯t want to open it and see what kind of shit she just put me in, but if it¡¯s going to screw up my spells, I have to know.

    Debt to the ______: 250 Worth.

    50% of all Worth gained will go towards this Debt until it is paid.

    While indebted, Worth cannot be spent or used in any way.

    My heart almost stops right then and there. The words ¡®death sentence¡¯ might not be significant enough for how completely and utterly this dooms me. One debuff completely shuts off everything I can do. And the only way to get rid of it is to somehow come up with 500 Worth¨Cnot using my skill, since it takes from the raw amount I earn.

    ¡°Pearl.¡± I turn to the sound of her hyperventilating over my ear. ¡°How am I supposed to deal with this?¡±

    ¡°Idon¡¯tknowI¡¯msosorryIdidn¡¯tthinkitwouldbethisbad!¡± She says in one panic-fueled breath. ¡°MaybetrysomethingjustincaseIdidn¡¯tscreweverythingup?¡±

    After taking a few seconds to parse her sentence, I come to the decision that it¡¯s a good idea. I guess. I summon a skeleton and try to force a shield into it, and after a tiny little stutter, it just¡­works.

    I breathe a titanic sigh of relief. ¡°Thank god. Must be because I can¡¯t technically spend the ghost quarters, so they don¡¯t actually count as Worth.¡±

    Pearl melts into a puddle of half-crying, half-apologizing relief. And I mean that very literally. She oozes down my ear and neck, almost all the way down my arm before she pulls herself together and apologies one more time.

    ¡°I am so sorry. It didn¡¯t say anything about a consequence that bad¨Cthe system must have updated while I was trapped as a quest item. I heard you only had to pay twice as much if you had someone to vouch for you.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ how much would I be paying off if you didn¡¯t vouch for me?¡±

    ¡°...four times as much? As you¡¯re already paying?¡±

    My jaw drops in disbelief. ¡°A¡­ thousand Worth. That¡¯s literally what I need to have at the end of this¡­ starting quest, or whatever it is. I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d have to earn twice that. How¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ we haven¡¯t even seen a thousand Worth worth of stuff yet!¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have let you do that! I promise! The only reason I suggested this in the first place is because I was here to help! I¡­ I thought I was helping.¡± Pearl¡¯s voice tapers off at the end there to real regret. ¡°...Can you see what skill you got from the all-seeing ice? It should still help you fight this painted dane, even if it¡¯s not¡­ worth the debt I put you in.¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± I squeak and swap tabs. ¡°Might as well.¡±

    See All: Multifaceted skill.

    Evolves as you progress through Quest: Close Your Eyes, Cold One.

    Passive: All identification costs are reduced by 25% and quintuples identification range. In addition, you gain resistance to effects revealed through identification.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Active: Identify any target, bypassing any and all Worth costs. These identifications benefit from both the Mind and Fate stats to reveal information.

    Usable only once every ?????

    I silently read through the admittedly pretty alright skill. Not worth putting myself two hundred and fifty Worth of debt, but alright. One thing it is definitely missing, though¨Csome way to help me kill the painted dane. And¡­ right, Gil definitely said something about a quest.

    Repeatable Quest: Close Your Eyes, Cold One (1/20)

    Defeat a target identified with See All¡¯s active that is at least threat level (5).

    Reward: one Mind.

    I glance over at my shield, which looks like it¡¯s got maybe two bashes left in it. As if on cue the painted dane appears out of nowhere, slams into the shield, and teleports away a second later in a swirl of mist. Leaving the shield in such a state that I know it won¡¯t survive another attack.

    If that thing isn¡¯t threat level five, I¡¯ll eat a projectile-filled ghost quarter.

    But as I try to look away, Pearl¡¯s dark awareness latches onto the painted dane in a far greater way than it has before. It follows it all the way into the darkness, so far that I can¡¯t even see the glowing red marks on it, but I¡¯m somehow still aware of where it is. And that it¡¯s going to attack again any second now.

    ¡°Your plan didn¡¯t work, so now it¡¯s time for mine.¡± I tell Pearl as I focus on the skeletal coin with a shield in it. ¡°If things go south, I¡¯m probably going to panic a whole lot.¡±

    ¡°I definitely will too. So, um, let¡¯s hope that doesn¡¯t happen?¡± She tries, but her voice has lost all confidence.

    I almost feel bad for her, but she just put me in super debt. And I really need to focus on trapping this painted dane. So I put all those emotions away for later when we¡¯re either safe, dead, or a weird combination of the two.

    Awareness creeps in. There¡¯s no time to react, and the painted dane joins it. It shatters my shield in a spray of magical shards that dissipate into wisps of nothingness, then charges head-on into the second one with jaws open wide and murder in its otherwise empty eyes.

    Panic halts my movements for a split second. I find myself staring into its eyes, and for some reason, cold understanding creeps in on me. It doesn¡¯t take hold, but I know that there¡¯s something here. Something that I¡¯m missing. Something that has to do with the fact that its eyes are growing redder with magic as I stand uselessly in place.

    That¡¯s new. Or¡­ maybe I just haven¡¯t been able to comprehend what I was seeing. I reach a finger up to my eyes, then wince as an intense cold seeps into my bones. The painted dane¡¯s eyes go full red, unlike anything I¡¯ve seen it do so far, and it disappears. Leaving a long and barely visible trail of wispy red magic behind it.

    The eyes. There¡¯s something about them. It should be so obvious¨Cso brain-dead simple¨Cbut my mind just¡­ can¡¯t put the pieces together. That has to be the painted dane. Whatever it¡¯s doing has to be doing this. But why can I only half-understand now? I haven¡¯t identified it for my skill, unless just seeing it partly counts for identification for some reason?

    Yeah. That¡¯s got to be it. I¡¯m making my own observations, and even though my brain can¡¯t process them, my skill is taking them into account. So¡­ I know what this thing¡¯s power is. I know what it¡¯s doing to me. I just can¡¯t move that information to an accessible part of my brain.

    ¡°Shelby?¡± Pearl meekly asks, pulling me out of my spiral of thoughts. ¡°Did the shield not work?¡±

    Right. I¡¯ve still got a plan to try.

    ¡°It didn¡¯t, but it will work the next time.¡± I confidently assure her. ¡°Whatever this thing is doing to us, I¡¯ll know soon enough. Or it¡¯ll be dead and it won¡¯t even matter.¡±

    ¡°Identify it before you kill it! If this isn¡¯t at least considered threat level five, I don¡¯t know what would be!¡±

    I already planned on it, but it¡¯s good to know Pearl¡¯s still looking out for my stats. Maybe it¡¯s the only thing she can focus on if the painted dane is really screwing with us that badly. I steady myself as best as I can, focus on the painted dane off somewhere in the distance, and prepare to actually do the plan this time.

    A spike in awareness. The painted dane is revealed not a moment later. Eyes completely empty of red start to fill up so much quicker than I¡¯m comfortable with. I grit my teeth and force a shield into the skeletal coin, straining all the while as it feels like the painted dane is flat-out rejecting my attempt to do magic. Something in my mind throbs like a particularly painful bruise. A chill seeps in from around my eyes.

    The spell finally takes hold with a wet pop. It springs to life, cutting off the painted dane¡¯s only retreat. I grin wildly, pushing through the discomfort to activate the twin projectiles as the painted dane gets ready to tele-dash again. Instead, it slams into my other barrier with a yelp of surprise.

    ¡°It worked!¡± Pearl squeals in delight. ¡°Murder it, Shelby! Um, I mean, identify it first and then murder it!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan!¡± I say above a rising screech that¡¯s starting to fill my ears as the painted dane realizes that it¡¯s trapped. ¡°See All!¡±

    Cherry Corpsedragger Dane

    A species of Painted Dane known to live most of its life deep underwater, only surfacing for extremely short moments to drag their victims into the water.

    Observed Detail: The corpsedragger¡¯s eyes store its magic. It can only use spells when its eyes are filled.

    Observed Skill: Aura of Panic. Any being that sees the corpsedragger is stricken with panic and is unable to form complete thoughts related in any way to understanding how to deal with it.

    Observed Spell: Snap and Drag. The corpsedragger dashes in a straight line at horrific speeds, giving the illusion that it can teleport.

    Unobserved Spell: ???.

    Still not giving me the full details, but the fact that I actually got some extra info from ¡®observing¡¯ it is a real nice upgrade. I wonder how much information¡¯s still hidden, though, since there¡¯s no threat level displayed. There¡¯s no stats, health, or anything other than a general description of the species as a whole. Maybe a higher Mind stats would show me more about it.

    I blink away the details and the panic leaves my body in a wave of relief. I can still feel it a little¨Cemanating from the corpsedragger like a bad smell¨Cbut it¡¯s completely manageable. Manageable enough that I easily grip onto the projectiles on either side of it and command them to kill the thing.

    They burst into motion. The first crashes into the corpsedragger¡¯s left flank, sending it sprawling away with a whine that rises into a very angry growl. Thin rivers of blood trickle out of even thinner wounds, and the projectile dies out far sooner than I expected it to. I frown and send the other at its head, which immediately has a more noticeable effect.

    The whirl runs through one of the corpsedragger¡¯s eyes as easily as it would an overfilled water balloon. Clear fluid and red mist pour out of the wound in equal parts, flung all throughout the enclosed space as the projectile digs even deeper into its head. A horrific shriek rips out of the thing¡¯s bloodied mouth, and it teleports away before the projectile can do enough damage. It¡¯s only a few feet to the right, but it¡¯s enough to get out of the way.

    ¡°I needed more coins.¡± I mutter to myself as the thing loses its mind over its lost eye. Red mist pours out of the wound like a malfunctioning smoke machine; pooling around its feet in a strange haze that peaks and spikes to some unheard beat.

    ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with it.¡± Pearl murmurs as she watches the corpsedragger writhe.

    ¡°Yeah, it lost an eye and was a few seconds away from losing half its face. I¡¯d be in some serious pain, too.¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s not it. There¡¯s something wrong with its magic. It¡¯s¡­ flowing out of it like a broken faucet, but it isn¡¯t dissipating. It¡¯s concentrating in that pool around it. There was an unobserved spell when you identified it, wasn¡¯t there?¡±

    ¡­Shit, there was. I nod and take a step back, readying a few skeletons to fill with shields. The haze of magic surrounding the corsedragger¡¯s feet bubbles and spikes like a boiling cauldron mixed with a rough sea. It snaps at the empty air, as if fighting some enemy we can¡¯t see.

    Red magic slashes a clean gash across its neck. A deep wound spurts out magic mixed with blood, and the corpsedragger falls to the ground. Twitching. Bleeding. Parts of it erupt in a spray of meat and blood, splattering my shields with enough force to damage them slightly. The eruptions rise from near its back legs, up its spine, and eventually finishes with a massive rupture that destroys its other eye, unleashing the rest of its magic into the pool at its feet.

    I watch with a mixture of horror and disbelief as the haze rises over the corpsedragger. Part of me screams that it¡¯s trying to revive itself, but another much more logical part tells it that the corpsedragger wouldn¡¯t kill itself over one lost eye.

    But I can¡¯t shake the fact that something huge is coming. I glance down at my hands, then set my jaw and toss three shields up between us and whatever¡¯s happening to the corpsedragger. That has to be enough to contain whatever¡¯s going to happen.

    The haze belches out a mass the size of my head. It rolls a few inches from the pool, then starts to crack. It unfurls into the longest, most skeletal facsimile of a dog I¡¯ve ever seen. There¡¯s not a hint of muscle on the thing nor any room for organs in the completely hollow chest cavity the rest of the thing¡¯s body had been curled into. Just bones, flesh that looks more magical than real, and¨Csomehow¨Cit¡¯s still got those horrible, oscillating teeth.

    But the closer I look, the less I understand what I¡¯m looking at. The thing stares at me completely motionless, the glint of cherry red magic reflecting off the glass all around it. Like a spell that hasn¡¯t been given a purpose just yet.

    Just as I¡¯m about to say something, the pool expels another mass. Then another. And another. It continues spraying out skeletal shark-dogs like some disgusting geyser of magic and flesh, shrinking and bubbling until the pool disappears completely. Revealing a pristine skeleton where the magic had completely devoured the corpsedragger¡¯s flesh.

    Nine skeletal shark-dogs uncurl and stand on impossibly strong legs. All staring at me with empty eyes. I swallow around a dry mouth as wisps of cherry red mist start to form in their empty sockets, and a cacophony of rattling growls emerge from empty throats. Hatred points at me like the business end of a loaded gun.

    A shudder works its way up the back of my spine. I set my feet and carefully clench the skeletal coins in my hand. There¡¯s no room for error. No shop to magically show up and sell me a cure for what ails me.

    Just me, Pearl, and my coins.

 Chapter 20: Playing The Game

    My first shield shatters before I can do anything. The skeletons throw themselves at it with no regards for their own safety, cracking their own necks and jaws with suicidal single-minded hatred. I glance back at the hole I dug, focus on the coin at the bottom, and push a shield into it that¡¯s just big enough to completely cover the hole.

    It pops into being, and I back over it as carefully as I can. The second shield shatters not a second later, and I toss out two more skeletal coins to bolster my defenses. But I know I¡¯m running myself low on everything I need to survive. Shields won¡¯t get rid of these things and save my life¨Cthat¡¯s what projectile is for.

    And I¡¯ve got all of one regular ghost quarter left to use on it.

    ¡°Shelby!¡± Pearl cuts in. ¡°See if the information on the corsedragger updated!¡±

    Good call, as usual. I summon my Class Card and tab over to the information on the corsedragger, but before I can scroll down to get a look, another one of my shields shatters. The skeletal shark-dogs look just as haggard as a second ago, but they¡¯re still going just as strong.

    Pearl gulps loudly enough for me to hear. ¡°Um, do it quickly, please.¡±

    ¡°Going as fast as I can, considering the circumstances.¡± I reply with my nerves set on edge. The sound of another shield shattering almost gives me a heart attack, but I still manage to scroll down to access the info I¡¯m looking for.

    Observed Spell: Funeral Hunt. When the corpsedragger loses control of its magic, it goes berserk and devours the creature to create skeletal wraith-hounds. These wraith-hounds relentlessly and single-mindedly hunt their targets until they run out of magical energy, regardless of what physical damage they seem to take.

    Outlast them. That¡¯s what I have to do. But there¡¯s one tiny problem, and it¡¯s breaking down my ability to outlast these things. If my shields break like stale crackers in the face of the onslaught, then there¡¯s absolutely no way I¡¯m outlasting anything. And if they still have the tele-dash that the not-dead corpsedragger did, running won¡¯t do any good either.

    So¡­ what options do I have? Hide? No¨Cthey can definitely see me, and now I can¡¯t use my shields to fool them. Fight back? Shit, it¡¯s a fine idea, but if I find out they¡¯re nearly immune to projectiles like the actual corpsedragger was, then I¡¯m dead meat. Or¡­ maybe¡­ um¡­ damn it.

    Just like that, I¡¯m out of options. A harsh reminder that I¡¯m extremely under equipped to deal with any real threats. I bite my lip and open my Class Card to check how many skeletons I¡¯ve got left, but it¡¯s really not looking good. My reserves are down to single digits if I don¡¯t count the one in my hand, and from how quickly these monsters are decimating my shields, that accounts for about a five minutes worth of safety.

    ¡°Need something here, Pearl.¡± I say warily and keep backing up. My feet touch glass once more, and a glance down into the hole sparks the start of an idea. Well, the continuation of another idea.

    ¡°Um, okay, I can think of something. You have your coins¡­ and¡­ um¡­ I have nothing else I can really help with¡­ so¡­ um¡­ we put that together, and we get¡­ um¡­¡±

    I wave her off as the details start to fall in place. ¡°Actually, nevermind. I think I¡¯ve got something.¡±

    Pearl lets out a sigh of relief. ¡°Thank goodness. I don¡¯t know if you could tell, but I really didn¡¯t have any ideas there.¡±

    I snort out a laugh. ¡°What? No. You sounded so confident.¡±

    She blushes and looks away. ¡°Sorry for not being a tactical genius like you.¡±

    Tactical genius? Me? Ha, yeah, right. A tactical genius wouldn¡¯t have trapped herself in a tunnel with some murder-remants and only a few skeleton coins to work with. And that genius definitely wouldn¡¯t have forgotten to flip the shitload of Worth she got for killing the mass grave, indirectly putting her in the exact situation she¡¯s in now. Shit, not even indirectly¨Cif I¡¯d doubled that Worth, I would¡¯ve had a hundred more skeletons to stall out these remnants with. And I wouldn¡¯t have put myself in goddamn debt just to have a chance at fighting the corpsedragger in the first place.

    Never, ever, forget to do that again. It cost me so much. For no reason at all.

    I bite back the self-directed frustration and place two coins on either side of the big hole. I put shields into them that¡¯ll funnel the remnants into the pit as long as they don¡¯t just barrel blindly forward. The spells pop into being, stretching down the tunnel and almost touching the one remaining shield that the remnants haven¡¯t broken through. The two angled shields don¡¯t quite touch each other, leaving just enough room for a single coin to break through.

    No time to waste. I summon two more skeletons, dispel the shield over the hole, and ready myself. If the things still have access to the tele-dash, it¡¯s probably completely over anyway. But they¡¯ve just been smashing themselves up against the shields like mindless zombies. It¡¯s the only real info I¡¯ve got on them, and I¡¯m combining it with the hope that defending against a projectile will use up some of their magic reserves.

    It¡¯s a gamble¨CI¡¯m not going to deny that. But when my only options are to accept death, hope ten shields are enough to wait these things out, or pray for some bullshit divine intervention? Hell, it might be a gamble, but it¡¯s not giving up.

    The shield shatters, forcing my mind into overdrive. Dark awareness closes in tight, hyperfocusing everything into properly executing ¡®trap the corpsedragger¡¯ version two. My breaths are calm and even as I face down the pack of remnants. They¡¯re running instead of teleporting. One shoulders into my barrier and snaps at it, but when it can keep running forward, it does. Even when it shoves the next closest remnant towards the center of the tunnel.

    That remnant then shoves the next. And the next. Until the entire pack is running in an awkward clump straight towards the hole my projectile made. A grin crawls up my cheeks when the awareness doesn¡¯t even react. I push a heavy, stationary projectile into the coin in my right hand and flick it into the small gap. Before it even starts to shatter into the mass of utter destruction I know it will become, I swap the other skeleton into my right hand and put a projectile into it that¡¯ll fly straight down when it forms.

    I flick that one, too, just as the awareness flares. One of the remnants reaches the edge of the pit. My heart rises into my throat as instead of falling, like I¡¯d hoped, it jumps. I instinctively take a step back, but my eyes are frozen to the scene that plays out before me.

    All the other wraiths jump. But not as one unified mass. Like a bunch of toddlers trying to get into a pool, they shove each other and bumble into the wrong paths. Then they slam into the barrier, snarl at me, and yelp as they fall into the pit. Both of my projectiles spark to life. Cherry red magic flies everywhere, coating everything in a sheen of red that glistens like blood and stinks like fresh meat. But the noises don¡¯t stop.

    The projectiles run out their energy, then disappear with an audible ¡®whoosh¡¯. Hateful barks and snarls fly up at me from the hole, but they sound¡­ further than before. Much further. I stand there for a few seconds, gathering my courage to go take a look. I find it in the form of putting up another shield over the hole before I bend down and see why the remnants haven¡¯t popped out to try and murder me.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    A much, much deeper hole answers my questions. All the remnants scrabble against frozen sand trying to get some kind of hold as they bear their fangs at me in anger. One of them¡¯s on the ground fading away, but instead of rising up like steam, the mana in it flows down into the sand.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t they get up?¡± Pearl asks with far more confidence now that there¡¯s distance between us and the remnants. ¡°We saw them break your shields like thin glass. I¡¯d get it if it was glass, but it¡¯s just frozen sand.¡±

    ¡°Hey, that same sand had three corpses in it. They had to get in there somehow.¡± I say, but truth be told, I¡¯m pretty damn confused too. ¡°Weird thing is that they seem like they¡¯ve got a lot more raw power than the corpsedragger. But look¨Cthey literally can¡¯t put a scratch in the sand.¡±

    Pearl leans in a little, and from her thoughtful hum, she¡¯s seeing the same things I am. My eyes wander over to the parts of the tunnel that the corpsedragger was down, and sure enough, there¡¯s a bunch of claw marks on the glass. They¡¯re not huge, but they¡¯re definitely there. Compared that to the stretch where the remnants were¨Cwhich is pretty much pristine¨Cand you¡¯ve got one weird scenario.

    ¡°I think they can¡¯t really damage inanimate objects.¡± Pearl theorizes. ¡°Spells and you, sure, but something like the glass or sand just isn¡¯t taking any damage. I¡¯d bet they¡¯re super specialized for killing the thing that killed the corpsedragger.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but that doesn¡¯t explain the painted danes stuck in the sand.¡± I mutter in thought. ¡°Or what managed to make that tunnel. We assumed it was the corpsedragger, but that just¡­ doesn''t feel right. It was too lithe and small for the tunnel. Built for speed and quick kills, not muscly drawn-out engagements, you know?¡±

    Pearl shudders and looks away from the pit of dying wraiths. ¡°If the corpsedragger didn¡¯t dig the tunnel, and the sand has some kind of¡­ magical cold-powers this deep down, then I really hope we don¡¯t find what made the tunnel.¡±

    ¡°Same here, Pearl.¡±

    I grunt and stand as the last of the wraiths start to go still. I watch the entire time, just in case it decides to trick me somehow, but it doesn¡¯t look like that¡¯s the case. And when the last of the cherry red magic bleeds away, a screen appears before my eyes to confirm the corpsedragger¡¯s death.

    Completed Quest: Close Your Eyes, Cold One 1/20.

    Reward: one Mind.

    Next Target: 10 threat.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s dead. That¡¯s a nice convenient part of the skill. Quest. The quest that¡¯s only there because of the skill.¡± Pearl says chipperly, but it hides some obvious regret at forcing me into debt. ¡°Did you get any Worth for killing it?¡±

    I shrug and walk over to the skeletal remains of the corpsedragger. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like there¡¯s anything to convert to Worth like the risen grave, but who knows? Maybe it¡¯ll just be worth a lot since it was such a pain in the ass to kill.¡±

    With a thought and a brush of my fingertips, I deposit the corpsedragger skeleton. It flashes and disappears, then reappears as an extra image inside of my inventory that isn¡¯t on any one slot. I swap it with a sapling, put it in my backpack, then press on the skeleton to see what it¡¯s actually worth.

    Cherry Corpsedragger Skeleton(drained) Stored.

    Predicted Worth: 148.

    If killed without destroying the creature¡¯s magic, it has a far lesser value.

    ¡­I¡¯ll be honest, I thought that was going to say ¡®far greater value¡¯ when I started reading that sentence. Not really sure why it¡¯s more valuable after I got rid of all the magic inside of it, but I¡¯m not going to complain. Except for the fact that there¡¯s no extra Worth involved. So I¡¯ll complain a little.

    ¡°This thing is Worth less than the mass risen grave. And the only reason that was a pain in the ass to kill is because I didn¡¯t know how to use shield for shit back then.¡±

    Pearl shrugs.

    ¡°Things aren¡¯t always fair. When you fought the risen grave, if you hadn¡¯t had any long range options, you would¡¯ve had a way harder time. And just like this¨Cif you had some armor, or maybe even a close-range weapon, you might not have struggled with the corpsedragger at all.¡± She says. ¡°And, well, there¡¯s also the fact that a lot of quest monsters give way bigger payouts than random powerful ones. Unless that powerful one gives a quest when it died, which this one didn¡¯t.¡±

    I sigh and start down the tunnel once more. ¡°So you¡¯re saying that was a pointless fight, and that even though it was probably a hell of a lot deadlier than the risen grave, I got a much worse payout?¡±

    ¡°If the information I have hasn¡¯t changed over the years¨Cyes.¡±

    Probably to disincentivize grinding random stuff, if I had to guess. But even that depends on what kind of a world this is¨Cif the system can make monsters whenever and wherever it pleases, then it could just control what spawns to keep me from getting too strong. If it¡¯s like earth, though, where everything¡¯s got a limited number and takes a while to reproduce¡­ then I guess this is one way to do it.

    A pang of a headache rocks my mind as the dark awareness dissipates. I groan and lean on the wall, trying to steady myself as the world swims around me. Blinking does nothing to the slight blur that¡¯s overtaken my vision. Everything feels a little off-kilter, like I¡¯m standing on a tiny fishing boat and seriously reconsidering going out to the ocean.

    ¡°That would be the backlash I was warning you about. It won¡¯t get¡­ much¡­ worse after this, but it will stick around for¡­ um¡­¡± Pearl knits her fingers together and looks away. ¡°Close to an entire day.¡±

    My groan reaches a crescendo and I shove myself off the wall with far more effort than it should¡¯ve taken. Pearl puts her hands against my head in an effort to steady me, but it does about as much as a snail trying to keep a trash can from falling over.

    ¡°Don¡¯t push yourself.¡± She gently urges. ¡°You just got rid of the immediate danger. It¡¯s safe to stop and rest for a little bit.¡±

    I shake my head ever so slightly, but even that brings on some nausea. I gulp and keep my head pointed straight down the tunnel, force my legs to move, and ignore the throbbing pain inside of my skull.

    ¡°There has to be something at the end of this. A clearing, or a ruined settlement, or something.¡± I say slowly and quietly. My own voice is almost too much, but Pearl¡¯s¡­ isn¡¯t for some reason. ¡°Use your navigation powers and take a look, pretty please?¡±

    Pearl purses her lips and shakes her head. ¡°I already looked earlier. There¡¯s absolutely nothing but empty tunnels for a few miles. Please, Shelby, just take a little break. You didn¡¯t sleep anywhere near enough last night to shake off what the risen grave and the beacon did to your body.¡±

    ¡°No. We need¡­ safety. I¡¯m not waiting out in the open for another corpsedragger to show up and rip my throat out.¡± I insist. ¡°I¡¯m technically in possession of you right now, so maybe you can get the same bonuses from the all-seeing ice as I do. Please, just¡­ give it a try?¡±

    She stares at me. I put on my best pleading expression, but from the way she winces and looks away, I guess I look a lot worse than I think.

    ¡°Okay, Shelby. But if I don¡¯t find anything, will you take a break?¡±

    I nod ever so slightly. ¡°As long as you tell me the truth.¡±

    Pearl closes her eyes and takes a slow breath. She keeps them tightly shut for a few seconds, then opens them a moment later. Frost lines her eyes like extremely exaggerated eyelashes combined with eyeliner, and she lets out a gasp of disbelief.

    ¡°I can see so far!¡± She whispers excitedly, then hisses. ¡°Ooh, but it¡¯s really cold. Really, really cold.¡±

    ¡°Pearl.¡±

    ¡°Right, right, actually looking for things. Sorry.¡± She apologizes, then focuses once more. ¡°I can see¡­ about four miles worth of empty tunnels. Completely empty¨Cno blockages, monsters, or¡­ even scratches on the glass. They end about half a mile from here, so the corpsedragger must¡¯ve made its home here for some reason.¡±

    I wince as a particularly horrible throb darkens a corner of my vision. ¡°Really need the short version here.¡±

    She closes her mouth and nods. ¡°Sorry. Um¡­ nothing¡­ nothing¡­ small clearing with a sandy pool¡­ whoa. What¡¯s that?¡±

    From how her voice drips with interest and excitement, colour me intrigued. ¡°What¡¯s what?¡±

    ¡°It looks like¡­ one of our workshops! Not a little one that only does repairs, either! Someone must¡¯ve put this in after I got quest item-ed!¡± She turns to me and grins. ¡°I can¡¯t completely see inside, since there¡¯s a lot of magic protecting it, but it has to be so much safer than out here!¡±

    ¡°Do I want to ask how far it is?¡±

    ¡°Only about six miles from here. I know you can last that long.¡±

 Patreon Announcement/Bonus Chapter

    Hello, author of the story here. Some of you might already know this, but there''s a patreon for this story that''s fifteen chapters ahead of right now.

    If anyone''s interested, here''s the link: https://www.patreon.com/CyberCinder</a>

    We''re damn close to getting into the main Rising Stars page, and that''s thanks to all of you that''ve left ratings, follows, favorites, and my lone review so far(Thank you, R.K.). If you''re enjoying the story so far I''d really appreciate a review of your thoughts on it until now, and if there''s enough kind people reading this little piece of fiction, then just maybe it''ll bump us up to the main R.S. Here''s hoping.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Oh, yeah, and what everyone''s actually here looking for: the bonus chapter. It''ll be out in fifteen minutes, and when we get onto RS main, I''ll do a few more bonuses when we hit some milestones.

    Anyway, hope everyone''s enjoying the story so far! And a huge thanks to all of you for reading it.

 Chapter 21: Light and Safety

    Turns out that walking six miles with a splitting headache and vertigo is a real challenge. But I manage it somehow¨Cslowly and surely stumbling my way through stretch after stretch of same-y tunnel as my head screams at me to take a break. My body doesn¡¯t actually hurt all that much for once; it would be a nice change of pace if I wasn¡¯t in the process of finding out that my brain hurting means it doesn¡¯t matter that my body doesn¡¯t hurt.

    By the time I finally make it to the thing Pearl insists is a workshop¨Cbut which actually looks like a weirdly flat section of the tunnel¨Cmy brain¡¯s done screaming. Now it¡¯s sending me death threats and not-so-politely reminding me that it controls all the pain in my body. Light hurts. Sounds hurt. Thinking too hard hurts. Even doing absolutely nothing hurts, which really doesn¡¯t feel fair, but it gives me newfound sympathy for those poor bastards who have cluster headaches.

    ¡°Get us in.¡± I wheeze as I lean against the flat wall.

    Pearl nods with a worried expression and gestures for me to move my head. I shift until her shell is pressed up against the wall, and she pokes out to press her cute little hands against the glass. Her body lights up in perfect silence, glowing a myriad of shifting colours that eventually settles on an iridescent sheen like motor oil in a parking lot.

    ¡°You need to get off the wall.¡± She whispers. ¡°Or else you¡¯ll fall when the door opens.¡±

    I murmur in acknowledgement and drag my face along the wall until I hit a sloped part. Pearl pulls her mouth into a line and looks like she wants to say something, but decides against it with a quiet sigh and a shake of her head.

    ¡°Not quite what I meant, but it¡¯ll do. Cover your ears¨CI don¡¯t know how loud this is going to be.¡±

    My hands barely make it up to my ears before the wall starts to vibrate. And I mean seriously vibrate. My body shudders along with it, from my head all the way down to my toes, which does absolutely nothing good for my headache. It feels like my brain¡¯s rattling around in a metal bucket that some¡¯s dragging behind their massive truck on an old gravel road.

    Honestly, I can¡¯t tell if there¡¯s any noise. Everything sort of goes¡­ monotone as all I can interpret is the extreme pain and discomfort from my headache. Pearl touches my head and whispers something that I can¡¯t hear, then traces up my forehead to try and get me to look up at the flat wall.

    Or what used to be the flat wall. Only a few long rectangular panels remain, which rumble up into the ceiling like a standard garage door¨Cexcept it¡¯s made of glass that¡¯s somehow not see through, since there¡¯s a pretty massive space just behind the door. One that I don¡¯t even take in as I stumble through the opening, bee-line for what looks like some kind of bench, and collapse in a lump of exhaustion and pain.

    Sleep doesn¡¯t come comfortably, but it sure as hell comes quick.

    <hr>

    Light blasts down at me through closed eyelids; stirring a restful, dreamless sleep into an awakeness filled with aches, pains, and a mouth that feels like a texas lawn in summer. One in a neighborhood that actually abides by the water ban, I mean, not one of those rich-people homes that has green grass in the middle of a drought.

    I groan as I force myself to sit up, running a finger over cracked lips and slowly wrenching open crusty eyes. Everything¡¯s a little blurry for a few seconds, and I start to freak out that¨Cjust maybe¨CPearl¡¯s awareness thing had some lasting effects. But it fades within a minute and I¡¯m just sitting there taking in a strangely normal place compared to everything I¡¯ve seen so far.

    It looks like one of those commercial auto mechanics. There¡¯s bays for individual things to be repaired, lifts built into the ground, and huge chains hanging from the ceiling on rails that go over each of the bays. Then there¡¯s all the random tools and carts haphazardly placed everywhere like someone threw them on the ground looking for something, control panels that look like they¡¯d go up to about my belly button, and massive shelves lined with so many parts I can¡¯t even start to describe them.

    If I didn¡¯t look too hard, I could almost imagine this was back on earth. Except for the one small fact that everything¡¯s made out of glass, wood, and something that looks like manufactured sheets of seashell material. I wipe my eyes with one hand as I take a huge swig of my meal replacement potion with the other. But there¡¯s one thing that hasn¡¯t really sunk in until this very second.

    It¡¯s so¡­ bright. Everything¡¯s illuminated perfectly from every angle. I look down and see lines of light shooting through the glass under my feet¨Cbut not all of them are actually that bright. The ones I look at directly dim ever so slightly, and the ones furthest away from me are brighter than all the others. Almost like they¡¯re trying to maintain a perfectly uniform amount of light in the shop.

    ¡°Pearl, what is this place?¡± I ask. And don¡¯t get a reply. ¡°Probably in her shell again. Well¡­ might as well explore a little.¡±

    I grunt and swing into a sitting position, then frown at the strange taste in my mouth. And at the lingering headache that intensifies for a split second when I move. It feels like I¡¯m dehydrated, but shouldn¡¯t the meal replacement potion deal with that? It kind of felt like it did yesterday.

    ¡°Rngh, stupid bodily functions. Making me go out of the way to make sure I don¡¯t die.¡± I mutter to myself as I pull out the mana potion and my water bottle. ¡°No need for this puppy, so let¡¯s see if you can make yourself useful.¡±

    I twist open the water bottle, shake out the sediment that¡¯s been filtered out, and pour all of the mana potion into it. It fills the bottle about halfway full, which really isn¡¯t enough water to live on, but hopefully it¡¯ll be enough to stave off dying of thirst. I throw both into my backpack and go to heft it onto my shoulders, but then I realize that I can just leave it on the bench instead. No worries about some painted dane coming up and snatching it out from under my nose.

    Just to be sure, I glance over my shoulder to check if I¡¯m actually sealed in here. The wall that opened up yesterday¡¯s all closed now without a single sign that it could open like it did in the first place.

    ¡°Relative safety. Nice.¡±

    Leaving my backpack behind, I set out to explore a little of this new place. It¡¯s not overly huge¨Cthere¡¯s five bays that look like things could be set up in, and each of them is long enough to store a typical yellow school bus. But without any pillars dividing up the room, and ceilings three times higher than any normal mechanics I¡¯ve seen, someone could easily set up one of those massive mine-site bulldozers in here and have room to spare.

    I nudge a scrap of wood aside with my toe and make my way to the real gem of this place¨Cthe shelves. Gil bought scrap wood for what I thought was a pretty damn good price, and there¡¯s nothing but machined planks sitting on the shelves here. Hundreds of them lined up by the dozens on shelves that reach up halfway to the ceiling. I look around for anything like a ladder, but unless they hid it somewhere, there¡¯s no ladder to be seen.

    Just wood, something I can¡¯t make out on the other side of the room, and a massive stretch of wall with a¡­ control panel on it? That¡¯s¡­ really weird. All the other control panels are obviously hooked up to one of the bays or the ceiling-mounted chains and clamps. But this one¡­ it¡¯s just built into the wall.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    I ignore the payday of wood for a second and beeline for the panel. It¡¯s glass just like the rest of the wall, but slightly inlaid with a bunch of numbered and lettered keys on it. They¡¯re all backlit with a slight white glow, save for two of them¨Cone of which glows green, and the other red. I can¡¯t make out the symbols on a good chunk of them, but the numbers¨Cthose I know.

    Should I mess with a control panel I know nothing about? Probably not. Am I going to? Of course I am.

    I press the ¡®1¡¯ key, then the green symbol. The wall hums like a massive shop vac for a second, then lets out a pleasant ¡®ding¡¯ and folds down like an in-wall ironing board. Atop which sits a cube of frozen sand the size of a standard sugar cube. I reach down to pick it up, and the moment my hand is free of the opening, it snaps shut and goes completely silent.

    The cube is perfectly smooth against my fingers, but it¡¯s got a sort of¡­ coarseness that the sand on the surface didn¡¯t have. Like there¡¯s bigger chunks of stuff in it, but I can¡¯t see any difference compared to the surface stuff. Maybe it¡¯s because it¡¯s frozen?

    ¡°Shelby! You¡¯re finally awake!¡±

    Pearl¡¯s voice comes from¡­ somewhere else. I raise an eyebrow and look over my shoulder. She¡¯s standing on the floor on two little legs and waving from a doorway that I hadn¡¯t noticed yet.

    ¡°Pearl? How¡¯d you leave your shell?¡±

    She tilts her head to the side in confusion. ¡°I could always leave my shell. There¡¯s just usually no reason to, since you¡¯re a much faster walker than I am. But that¡¯s not important¨Ccome here, come here! I¡¯ve got something really cool to show you!¡±

    That¡¯s news to me, but I guess I was the one that assumed she couldn¡¯t leave her shell. And if I had a giant who carried my apartment everywhere she went, then I guess I wouldn¡¯t feel the need to leave all that often. Pearl¡¯s about to prompt me again, so I start moving before she can say anything.

    ¡°What¡¯d you find?¡±

    She grins and waggles a finger at me as she slips into the room. ¡°No point telling you when I can show you so easily!¡±

    ¡°Fair, I guess.¡± I say with a shrug and stick the sand cube in my pocket. I round the corner into the room, ducking slightly to get under a five-foot clearance. ¡°Huh. A lot cozier in here.¡±

    Pearl skips over to a desk and taps her hand against its leg. ¡°I know, right? This must be where they took their breaks and did all their paperwork.¡±

    She¡¯s not wrong. The smaller room looks like a big office mixed with a posh break room, save for any kind of food or chairs to sit in. There¡¯s a pair of waist-high glass tables in the middle of everything, and a few glass desks like the one Pearl¡¯s leaning around the room, but aside from that¡­ nothing, really. Nothing worth getting this excited over, unless I¡¯m missing something.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice, sure but¡­ I mean¡­¡± I gesture broadly at the room. ¡°What¡¯s to get so excited about?¡±

    ¡°Oh, not a whole lot, just plans for some unused inventions.¡± Pearl smiles wide and points casually at the top of the desk she¡¯s leaning against. ¡°Most of them were completely unmakable, but I picked out the ones that might actually be useful and put them here for you to take a look at.¡±

    Really? I squint down at the desk, and sure enough, there¡¯s glass on that glass. Four glass slates, to be exact, each littered with barely visible schematics and notes that I have to lean down to even make out. Even then, they¡¯re not exactly easy for the eyes.

    ¡°Not to rain on your parade, Pearl, but I don¡¯t think we have the resources or the know-how to build something huge here.¡± I say as I pick up the slates, but grow silent as I actually look through them. ¡°Pearl, these dimensions¡­ they¡¯re human sized. And all these things around definitely aren¡¯t shellraiser sized.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s not one size of shellraiser, silly. Some of us are much bigger than others, and they usually worked in places like this. Even smaller ones¨Clike me¨Ccould get a shell custom-made that would let them be¡­ well, bigger.¡±

    She taps the desk for emphasis. ¡°We couldn¡¯t efficiently make huge machines if we were always this size. But I guess you only saw the destroyed version of those big shells, and your only reference for a shellraiser is me!¡±

    ¡°I guess, yeah.¡± I agree while I continue to read the blueprint-slates. ¡°So we¡¯ve got an arm-mounted harness, some kind of weird bladed weapon, some kind of hexagonal strappy thing, and a¡­ an¡­ huh. I can¡¯t make out what this says.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a portable shell for a ________ power supply.¡± Pearl explains as she shoots up my leg and settles back in her shell. ¡°There¡¯s one here powering this place, but I haven¡¯t checked out the room where it¡¯s supposed to be. You were asleep for so long, so I thought we could do it together! Maybe it¡¯ll give us some hints on how to dismantle that machine you need to destroy for your quest.¡±

    Or maybe I could use it to power up that beacon. ¡­Wait. Asleep for how long?

    ¡°Pearl, how long was I out for?¡±

    ¡°Only about fifty-six hours. It¡¯s not bad at all, considering your mind experienced the equivalent of staying up for five days straight when I did that thing to you.¡±

    ¡°Fifty¡­ six¡­ Pearl, that¡¯s a shit ton! It¡¯s almost an entire tenth of the entire time limit I¡¯ve got! And¡­ I¡¯m not even close to a thousand Worth!¡± I groan in frustration and turn on my heel ¡°We¡¯ve got to get moving. I don¡¯t care if this place has a decade worth of secrets to uncover, we need to be done with it by tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Why tomorrow? We still have plenty of time left.¡±

    ¡°Because¡­ because I don¡¯t know how I¡¯m supposed to make enough Worth to not die here! The risen grave gave me some, but since there¡¯s nowhere around here for me to sell my shit to, I¡¯m stuck with a ton of Worth in my inventory that¡¯s just¡­ sitting here gathering dust. The only way to get enough Worth to push me over a threshold is to finish a quest.¡±

    Pearl thinks for a second, and I can see something come to her, but she doesn¡¯t say it. But it bothers her.

    ¡°Pearl, what¡¯s going on in that head of yours?¡±

    At first she just waves it off. Then she frowns, hums to herself in an increasing tone, and eventually bursts into speech.

    ¡°How much Worth will your quest give you?¡±

    My mouth somehow goes even drier. ¡°Three hundred. But there¡¯s all this lumber here that has to be worth¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ hundreds? Thousands? Pearl, why are you acting like I¡¯m in trouble?¡±

    ¡°All the lumber¡­ all the stuff in here¡­ you can¡¯t sell it. It still belongs to someone. Try putting any of it in your inventory and you¡¯ll see what I mean.¡±

    No. That¡­ it can¡¯t be. I pull the cube of sand out of my pocket and try to deposit it. A screen pops up with a simple warning.

    These materials belong to the workshop of ?????.

    Any attempt to remove them, whether through system-based or conventional means, will fail.

    ¡­Shit. What am I supposed to do now? I¡¯ve got a three-hundred Worth quest I need to finish, but even that won¡¯t put me over the threshold for the next level thanks to my debt. I was hoping this would be the payday I needed to make sure I don¡¯t die once I got to that threshold, but honestly, I don¡¯t know how I was expecting to get there in the first place.

    I look over at Pearl, but she¡¯s not falling apart. She¡¯s looking forward at something. And hell, I could really use some optimism right about now.

    ¡°Alright, you look like you¡¯ve got a plan, Pearl. Let¡¯s hear it.¡±

    She sighs in relief and puts her hands over her heart. ¡°Thank goodness. Okay¨Cyou saw the warnings about the materials, but there¡¯s something on these blueprints that¡¯s different. It¡¯s the entire reason I picked them out instead of all the others. Can you¡­?¡±

    I splay the glass slates out like a deck of large cards.

    ¡°Thank you. Do you see this little symbol here?¡± Pearl gestures at the bottom left of each slate. There¡¯s a matching symbol that looks a little like a spiral contained within a glass beaker. ¡°That¡¯s a specific symbol that means ¡®still on order¡¯. And when it¡¯s put on a blueprint like this, it¡¯s an open invitation for anyone to make it in their spare time, since the first one hasn¡¯t been made or tested yet.¡±

    Still doesn¡¯t seem like a plan to me. ¡°And?¡±

    Pearl grins and taps the power core containment blueprint. ¡°These shops have a rule they put in place to make sure all the prototypes actually get made and tested. Anyone who makes the first of anything gets to keep the finished product for themselves.¡±

 Chapter 22: Feats of Creation

    ¡®Anyone who makes the first of anything gets to keep it¡¯. Sounds to me like something a tech startup would do back on earth to make sure they have a constant flow of new products and services without having to actually hire people to make them. Since Pearl only found four of these things, and she had over two days to look, these slates have got to be the only ones that haven¡¯t been made yet.

    Now, I can easily understand why three of them didn¡¯t get made¨Cthey¡¯re simple. The kind of project someone takes on when they¡¯ve already gone through all the interesting, complicated, or potentially valuable other options. That doesn¡¯t even come close to applying to the power supply shell. I can¡¯t make out the vast majority of the shellraiser script on it, but if this thing can power a machine that literally glassed a beach trying to kill me, then I bet every employee would be frothing at the opportunity to build it.

    I look through the slates one last time, then walk over to the bench I¡¯d slept on and set them down. Pearl impatiently waits for my reaction to what I¡¯m assuming is something she worked pretty hard on, but to be honest, I don¡¯t really know how to react. Sure, it¡¯s cool that I might be able to get a little bit of gear, but that doesn¡¯t help my real problem. Even if I can get the power supply, that just means I might be able to power the beacon.

    ¡®Might¡¯ being the key word here. I can¡¯t even see the thing in my inventory like a normal item, so who¡¯s to say I can use it at all?

    ¡°Pearl, I need your guarantee here. If I do this¨Cspend all this time working to make these things¨Cthat it will actually be enough. Not just to get me through whatever¡¯s at the end of these tunnels, but¡­ in general. That they¡¯ll actually be useful for whatever comes after this.¡±

    ¡°I guarantee it.¡± She says without hesitation. ¡°The arm holster connects to your class card and lets you take coins from it without having to actually summon them. Both the knife and the matrix use coins to make you stronger depending on what kind of coin you put in them. They¡¯re perfect for you, since you put all your spells into coins.¡±

    ¡­They¡¯re built for coins? But¡­ why? Being made for someone taller than Pearl is one thing, but she made it clear that she doesn¡¯t have system access. I¡¯m pretty damn sure that coins are a system-based thing only.

    ¡°Why were shellraisers making things for coins? You have power supplies of your own that aren¡¯t system-based.¡± I point out and lean down to make sure she isn¡¯t pulling my leg. What do you know, there are circular indents on all three of those blueprints. Perfectly sized for coins.

    ¡°I don¡¯t completely remember the specifics, but not everyone that got the system aligned with it. We had way better tech than they did, so we sort of took over the part of making stuff for them.¡± Pearl explains with a shrug. ¡°I guess they betrayed us, since there¡¯s no trace of any of them and plenty of dead shellraisers. Well, nothing we can do about that.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s your reaction to finding out that your allies left your people to die?¡± I ask with a frown. ¡°I think I¡¯d be a lot more pissed than you are. Like, a thousand times more pissed.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m angry, just not the¡­ exact same kind of angry I think you¡¯re referencing.¡± Pearl chuckles solemnly. ¡°I bear some responsibility for the decisions that were made, but so do a whole lot of other people. We took our risks, laid out our gambles to have the best odds possible, and did everything we could. If it didn¡¯t work¡­ well¡­ I guess I just got all my anger out a long time ago.¡±

    I snort and pick up the slate Pearl called the ¡®coin holster¡¯. ¡°Sure, you keep telling yourself that. And when you come face to face with someone that¡¯s responsible for the state you¡¯re in right now, I¡¯ll help you vent whatever anger bubbles up from the depths of your soul.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to be so disappointed. Or¡­ proud of me, for not giving in to my anger?¡± Pearl taps her lip in thought. ¡°Whichever reaction you have to me not being angry at all. Oh, are you going to try and make that one first? You¡¯ll need the shell scraps you got from the risen grave for¡­ all three of the easier ones, actually.¡±

    I nod and tap the slate with my knuckles. ¡°Might as well, since I¡¯m using more coins than anything else. So, it says here I need an unreadable amount of injection-molded glass, a bunch of everdriftwood, and a¡­ forged plate of high-quality shells to actually conduct the magic. We¡¯ve got more than enough lumber here, and I¡¯ve got the shells, but how are we going to turn this sand into glass?¡±

    ¡°We also need to turn the shells into a proper plate.¡± Pearl adds excitedly. ¡°If you walk over to the controls, I can give you instructions on how to do both. Or¡­ um¡­ she can.¡±

    ¡®She¡¯? Who else is there aside from Pearl and¡­ oh. Someone else¡¯s memories. The shellraiser that suffered on the beacon to keep these tunnels safe.

    ¡°The crystallized shellraiser was an engineer?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head ever so slightly. ¡°She was a technician. I didn¡¯t get a lot of the theory behind any of this from her, but she knew these machines better than anyone. Go get a ten inch by ten inch cube of sand from the dispenser and two planks of everdriftwood, then go take the third bay from the right. The furnace is already in there, and the less we have to move, the less we risk malfunctions.¡±

    ¡°Aye-aye, maam.¡±

    Getting the wood is no problem at all¨Cthere¡¯s enough planks on the bottom shelf to make a dozen of these holsters. I grab one under each arm and heft them over to the bay Pearl pointed out, set them down on a slightly raised platform, and press on the completely alien controls exactly as she orders to get it to rise to stomach-height. Then it¡¯s just a trip to the sand dispenser for a big cube of sand, a walk back to the platform, and I¡¯ve got everything we need. Somehow.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure this is all we need, Pearl?¡± I ask warily as I unload the exact amount of shell scraps she asks me for¨Cabout an eighth of my total reserves. ¡°Don¡¯t we need tools? Or¡­ heat? And where¡¯s the furnace?¡±

    Pearl gestures up at the ceiling while she fiddles with the control panel. ¡°Up there. I¡¯m trying to get it down right now, and¨Coh, right, I need a mold too. Can you take me over to the bay all the way on the other side of the room?¡±

    With a sigh, I relent to the fact that I¡¯m probably going to be playing taxi for the next few hours. I wait for her to finish with the panel, stick out my arm for her to climb up, then jog over to the other side of the room. There¡¯s not much to see, but as I get closer and closer, it¡¯s obvious that the first bay is a little different than all the others. The platform has a lot of moving glass parts in it, and they¡¯re so magically dense compared to all the other glass that it doesn¡¯t even look like the same material.

    ¡°Thank you very much.¡± Pearl says as she jumps off my arm and hits the control panel with a soft ¡®splat¡¯. Immediately the platform rises and starts to shift. ¡°I¡¯m going to need your help with this. Once I rearrange the mold into the proper shape you¡¯re going to have to pull it out and lug it over to the other bay.¡±

    I almost agree right away, but the heavy crunching and ringing impacts of the mold make me think twice. ¡°Pearl, how heavy is this thing going to be?¡±

    ¡°A hundred pounds or so. I know¨Cit¡¯ll be a struggle, but the less we have to mess with where all this equipment is, the less likely we are to meet a malfunction.¡± She replies apologetically, but with an edge of certainty. ¡°Maybe you can use a shield to move it?¡±

    I shake my head and laugh bitterly. ¡°Hell no. I¡¯m not wasting one of my precious few remaining coins on making something more convenient for myself. You do your thing, and I¡¯ll make sure it gets moved.¡±

    The rumbling stops, and a square of midnight black glass pops out of the platform like a massive piece of toast. Pearl smiles at me and pats the console twice, then scurries up my arm.

    ¡°If you say so!¡±

    Me and my big mouth. Just looking at the imposing slab of glass sends shooting pain up my back, but this needs to happen, so I have to do it. I rub my hands together and get as close to it as I can, then carefully flip it down onto its side so a little bit of it is hanging off the platform¡¯s edge. Even falling slowly makes a deep, echoing ¡®thud¡¯ that sends my stomach into my throat.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Are you sure you can handle it?¡± Pearl asks with real concern. ¡°If it¡¯s too much for you, I can try to get some chains down that we could hook up to the mold. It¡¯ll only take a few minutes, and I think I can get them on a track that won¡¯t impede anything else¡­¡±

    I shake my head and slide the mold off the platform, all the while cradling it in my arms like a strongman carrying one of those massive medicine balls. The weight still manages to catch me off guard, and I stumble a few steps backwards until I get my feet under myself.

    Straining to keep it in my arms, I quickly and wordlessly start to shuffle over to the bay. Huffs and grunts keep me afloat until I finally manage to waddle to the platform, and just before I can have an existential crisis about somehow getting the thing onto the platform, Pearl snakes down my arm and lowers it so I can push the mold onto it.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I hiss as the thing leaves my arms. ¡°You¡¯re sure that was only a hundred pounds? I¡¯m no gym rat, but that felt like way more than you said.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a hundred pounds of physical weight. The magical weight of it probably doubles that, or maybe even¡­ more...¡± Pearl says, then starts to glow red. Almost like a blush. ¡°Um, sorry. I kind of forgot to mention that. Do you want to try and use the chains next time?¡±

    I shake out my hands with a hiss of confirmation. Even though the weight was horrible, and I swear my body is tingling like the human version of sparkling wine, the corners on that mold were by far the worst thing.

    ¡°Yes, please. And if we destroy anything, I¡¯ll apologize profusely to whoever owns this place if we ever meet them.¡±

    ¡°I doubt we ever will.¡±

    After she says that, Pearl just stares wistfully out at the opposite wall. Then she shakes her head, looks over at me, and composes herself with a bright smile. A few taps on the panel brings up a knee-high glass trough made of the same magical stuff as the mold, and an intense heat springs forth immediately after. There¡¯s no visible fire, or even anything to burn, but that heat¡¯s the real deal.

    ¡°Can you get the mold into there?¡± Pearl asks without looking back at me. ¡°Once it''s hot enough, I¡¯ll drop the extruder over it and you can put the sand in. Then we¡¯ll just have to wait for it to form, cool, and¡­ get it out of there somehow. Maybe we¡¯ll need a crowbar for that.¡±

    I nod and wince as I shake out my hands, then go move the mold. It¡¯s a lot easier to push off the platform and into the furnace than it was carrying it across the room. The thing crashes into the furnace with a bang, then the furnace itself contracts around the mold. It shifts and alters itself until the open part is sticking straight up, taking at least a little grunt work away from me.

    ¡°Thank god I don¡¯t have to stick my hands in there.¡± I chuckle as Pearl lowers the extruder over the mold. ¡°How long¡¯s this going to take?¡±

    Pearl hums in thought. ¡°Probably an hour to melt and form, then another thirty minutes to settle, and an hour after that to cool and properly harden. We don¡¯t have to just sit around and wait, though¨Cwe can get started on everything else at the same time.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good to me.¡± I grunt as I heft the sand cube into the extruder. The heat from the furnace rises to meet the ice almost instantly, melting it before I can get my hands off of it. ¡°So what do we need to do to the wood and the shells?¡±

    The bay rumbles for a split second, and a glass lathe rises from the floor. It¡¯s joined by something else that looks like a combination between a drill, a saw, and some kind of press. They settle for a second, shifting and bouncing as if they were sitting on top of jelly platforms, then go deadly still. Pearl gestures at the saw, then at one of the planks.

    ¡°Could you please cut two three-foot planks out of each of the bigger ones, then stick them together and put them on the lathe. If you need to measure them, there should be markings and actual guides on the machine to help you. Oh, and make sure the cuts are clean and quick. This might be untreated everdriftwood, but it¡¯s still freakishly tough.¡±

    Does ¡®tough¡¯ mean I have to cut it quickly? If anything, I feel like it should mean I go a lot slower so I don¡¯t screw anything up. But Pearl seems completely confident in the instructions, so¡­ I guess I¡¯ll go with it. Besides, if I mess up, there¡¯s pretty much infinite wood for me to retry with.

    I grab a plank and pull it over to the saw, set it against numbers etched into the glass, and clamp it tightly so it won¡¯t move at all. I push everything except for the circular saw attachment away, grab it by the handle, and flick it on as I pull it down. Magic surges through the saw like a tidal wave, pressing against my fingers with such a monstrous pressure that I almost let go out of surprise.

    ¡°This much power, and your people used it for simple tools?¡± I ask over the whir of the saw slicing through the everdriftwood like butter. ¡°Man, that power core must be something really fearsome.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it definitely is.¡± Pearl agrees with a little laugh while she carefully presses some shell fragments together. ¡°This is an __________ core, which we use for _______ and¨C¡±

    ¡°Censorship, sorry.¡± I cut her off as I replace the cut plank with another. ¡°Maybe after I get a little more Mind.¡±

    ¡°Oops, sorry.¡± She says over the noise of the saw. ¡°I¡¯ll try again after you get some more Mind. Ooh, that was fast.¡±

    I drop the planks on the lathe, then look back at her for the next step.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do the rest of this¨Cyou just sit back and relax for a little while.¡± Pearl waves me off towards the bench. ¡°When it¡¯s done, I¡¯ll call on you to put the pieces together. Oh, and grab a crowbar. We¡¯re definitely going to need one to open the mold.¡±

    <hr>

    Close to two hours later, and with the molds and wood for the other two things all ready to go, it¡¯s finally time to get the creative juices flowing. By which I mean put the pieces Pearl completed and made sure were all perfectly to specifications together like a jigsaw puzzle. A damn complex one, too, since there¡¯s close to a hundred little wooden parts that need to be put into specific places on the glass frame. And the shell fragments which are stuck together with a fluid that looks like it could¡¯ve come from her body are weirdly¡­ circuit-like.

    ¡°How long is this going to take me?¡± I wonder aloud as I study a piece of shell that looks like a little camera lens¨Ccomplete with glass in the center to perfect the look. ¡°Do I have to remind you that I don¡¯t have infinite time?¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯ve done that plenty already. I¡¯m just¡­ a lot slower at this than I thought I would be.¡± Pearl admits sheepishly as if she didn¡¯t just blast me with sarcasm. ¡°I¡¯m working with¡­ let¡¯s call them inherited feelings, sensations, and knowledge. Actually putting them to practical use is way harder than I thought it would be.¡±

    With a nod, I carefully slot the lens into a small circle of wood, then press it into a properly sized divot on the glass frame.

    ¡°So what¡¯s it like? Did you get all the woman¡¯s memories when you did whatever you did?¡±

    ¡°No. If it was, I probably would¡¯ve changed a lot when I did. It was like watching a really engrossing movie, but actually seeing it through the eyes of the main character. I¡¯m still me watching it, and I don¡¯t physically feel or react to the things they way she did, but I experience them all the same. As for the practical skills, that¡¯s thanks to our body composition. She gave me her abilities and competencies, but they¡¯re like a new tool I have in my arsenal, not something I¡¯ve worked with for years.¡±

    ¡°But you still know how to properly use those tools, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh, definitely.¡± Pearl confirms. ¡°I¡¯ve seen her use them, know how to use them, and can use them with a degree of competence that¡¯s way above anyone who¡¯d be doing this their first try. It¡¯s like¡­ knowing exactly how to perfectly cast a spell, but you don¡¯t have the right stats to perfectly replicate it.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow without stopping my work on the bracer. I¡¯ve got a pretty good idea about what she means¨Cin human terms, it¡¯d be like getting all the skills and experiences from the best baseball pitcher in the world, but still having your own body and mind. You know exactly what you have to do to throw the perfect pitches, but you don¡¯t have the muscles built up from years of doing it. And you might not have the exact same body type, so you have to make little adjustments to actually throw perfect pitches.

    ¡­Not that I¡¯m sure Pearl can even have that issue, since all shellraisers don¡¯t seem to have one specific form. Or maybe they do, and I¡¯m just being accidentally racist. Or¡­ is it specist since it¡¯s against a different species? Nah, I¡¯m probably just being ignorant. But it¡¯s cool that my mind stat let me hear all of Pearl¡¯s explanations instead of assaulting my brain with censorship.

    A harsh, grinding whine echoes out through the wide-open space. I look up from my work and see Pearl smack her little fist against the control panel in annoyance.

    ¡°Darn it all!¡± She whispers to herself. ¡°Note to future Pearl¨Cyou can¡¯t trust any timings you remember, since you don¡¯t have the same internal clock as she did. Actually look at the timer instead.¡±

    Seeing Pearl annoyed with herself brings on a grin that I have to stifle when she turns around with a cute little huff of frustration. She stares at me for a few seconds, knitting her eyebrows together as she tries to figure out why my lips are trembling and I keep looking down at the bracer without actually putting anything in.

    ¡°Are you laughing at me, Shelby?¡±

    I fully expect to hear hurt in her voice, but all I can make out is amusement.

    ¡°Nope, not yet.¡± I let the smile free and point a finger at her chest. ¡°Keep doing what you¡¯re doing, little lady, and we might be out of here by tomorrow.¡±

    She bats my finger away with a theatrical sigh. ¡°That was, is, and will continue to be the plan. But I¡¯m not little. And I¡¯m definitely not a lady¨Cladies and gentlemen don¡¯t go to war. They stay at home and pretend they won¡¯t be next.¡±

 Chapter 23: New Tools

    Pearl¡¯s words rattle around in my brain for the rest of our overly long fabrication work. ¡®Ladies and gentlemen don¡¯t go to war¨Cthey stay at home and pretend they won¡¯t be next¡¯. It feels like she¡¯s quoting someone from how easily she said it, so obviously I won¡¯t know who it is, but it almost felt¡­ casual and flippant. Like an inside joke.

    I almost ask her about it a hundred times, but for some reason, it triggers the system¡¯s censorship every time I do. Not her explanation about how she remembers things through whatever she did to the crystallized shellraiser¨Cthat¡¯s obviously fine and not at all important knowledge. But some random quote that might just be from a novel she read?

    Yeah, censor that shit. Wouldn¡¯t want me knowing dangerous things like that, system, now would we?

    It takes almost three hours to put the coin holster together. For a chunk of glass and wood with shell circuitry that sits on my forearm lined with coins that supposedly regenerate themselves from my inventory, it looks pretty good. All the shell pieces are used like metal traces in circuits, connecting the important pieces together, but also as the parts that give commands. They line all down the part that¡¯s meant to press against my skin, feed through every coin nook, and cluster around the inside of my wrist and elbow with the parts that actually process whatever magic Pearl put inside of it.

    The glass is mostly just the frame, but considering how it¡¯s apparently harder than steel, it¡¯s also the armor for everything else. Leaving the wood to be used in smaller parts, creating gaps between the glass and the shells wherever it¡¯s needed and in the place of straps to keep it comfortably on my arm.

    Before I start working on the next piece, I test it a dozen times to make sure it actually fits right against my arm. And that the slight tingling I feel coming from the shells isn¡¯t them cutting off my circulation. Pearl repeatedly assures me that they aren¡¯t, but her explanation gets censored to all hell, so she could be flat-out lying to me. I don¡¯t think she is, but it¡¯s still a possibility.

    ¡°Does it fit right? Did I do anything wrong? I can try to fix it if it¡¯s not perfect.¡± Pearl worries over me like a grandma making sure a knit sweater fits right. ¡°It should be completely comfortable with the everdriftwood straps, so if it isn¡¯t¨C¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more than fine, Pearl.¡± I cut her off before she can get herself even more worried. We still have two more things to put together, after all. ¡°It still tingles, but that doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s something we can get rid of. Now, can I please identify it?¡±

    She purses her lips and hums worriedly, but eventually gives up with a sigh. ¡°Oh, okay. If you really want to.¡±

    Yes, in fact, I do ¡®really want to¡¯. I¡¯ve wanted to for almost twenty minutes now, but she keeps stopping me for some weird reason or another. I¡¯m beginning to think I won¡¯t like what my system tells me. That won¡¯t stop me, though¨CI raise the inside of my arm up to my eyes and focus my mind on it. Just in case I get a blast of censorship right away.

    ¡°Identify.¡±

    The outline of a screen pops into view between me and the holster. I wait impatiently for it to fill in, but after a few seconds of it doing absolutely nothing, I start to worry. More seconds tick by, and with every single moment that nothing happens, my worry only grows. Is the system completely censoring the item description? Or¡­ wait.

    Does the system not have a description for it since nobody¡¯s ever made it before?

    ¡°Pearl, does that slate tell you exactly what this thing¡¯s supposed to do?¡±

    She nods slowly, then hops over to the glass slate. ¡°It says that by connecting a Class Card to it, it can automatically draw out coins to be used for spells. Apparently taking a coin from the holster is supposed to be faster than taking one from your inventory, so even if you want to throw one, this would be faster.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s it?¡± I frown and push the screen frame out of the way. ¡°All that work just for a holster that holds my coins?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ no, not technically.¡± Pearl says slowly, then taps the slate. ¡°It says here you can put mana into it to create ghost quarters, but you¡­ um¡­ don¡¯t have mana. And you already have a spell that converts Worth into ghost quarters. So it¡¯s kind of useless for you?¡±

    I rap my knuckles against the bracer with a thoughtful frown. Sure, I don¡¯t have mana, but I do still have a Soul stat. If all of my spells have to be used through coins, and their effects only scale with how much Worth is in that specific coin, then Soul would be completely pointless. Either making it a perfect dump stat or giving it some other use I haven¡¯t even thought of yet. Well, no matter what, I should still link this thing to my Class Card before I write it off as useless.

    I raise two fingers and summon it between them, then reach down and tap it against the little glass lens near my wrist. It glows gold for a split second, then the holster flashes with veins of the exact same colour. I flex my fingers a few times as the tingling sensation on my arm fades away, only to be replaced by¡­ something a lot weirder. Like having another body part strapped to my arm that¡¯s brand new, and that my body has now decided is a part of me. One that it can now completely ignore until something happens.

    Connection established with: Unknown Shellraiser Mechanism.

    Altering Soul stat to account for this change.

    Working¡­ complete.

    Check the stat sunscreen to see the extent of the changes.

    ¡­Okay, better check that first, I guess.

    Shellrisen Soul

    Increasing this stat increases the number of mechanisms you can be connected to, while also increasing their efficacy and decreasing the mental or physical strain of using them.

    Some mechanisms have Soul requirements before they can be equipped.

    In addition, any shellraiser abilities outside of mechanisms are also augmented by this stat.

    I really, really hope that¡¯s a net positive change. Soul seemed like a completely useless stat before, but that was with one or two Mind backing the description. If I somehow screwed myself out of becoming the strongest wizard of all time for a coin holder, then I¡¯m going to be pissed. Especially because the damn thing¡¯s description is particularly unhelpful.

    Shellraiser Mechanism: Arm-Mounted Coin Holster.

    Connection established: Worth or coin-like objects can be designated to replenish the slots in the mechanism.

    Further details will be revealed as you discover them.

    The damn thing¡¯s telling me to figure it out on my own. Not only is that annoying, but it also really puts a damper on the whole ¡®all powerful system¡¯ thing. We already know the holster is supposed to do other things¨Cthey¡¯re written on the blueprint. So why can¡¯t the system just¡­ transfer that information into the description?

    ¡°So? Does it work?¡± Pearl asks, her body tense with excitement and nervousness. ¡°I think I did everything right, but even one misplaced shell piece can screw up all the mana circuitry. Or it can make the glass way weaker than it¡¯s supposed to be.¡±

    ¡°No idea, since I don¡¯t have enough coins to fill it.¡± I sigh, but hold out my arm anyway. ¡°New coin thing, fill yourself with the rest of my skeletons.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    A flash of gold accompanies the rest of my skeletal coins filling some of the slots¨Cfour out of the six, to be exact. It looks like way too few coins to properly protect myself and Pearl, which makes me want to go back to the frozen pile of sand. But that place is hours away. I need to find some other way to replenish my stock that doesn¡¯t risk screwing everything else over.

    Pearl leans in and hums to herself. ¡°It looks like it works. The coins are held in place by a thin layer of constricting magic, it¡¯s properly connected to your Class Card, and it doesn¡¯t look¡­ too uncomfortable. Can you help me with the other two projects, or do you need a break?¡±

    I blink slowly as I push the thoughts of refilling away for later. ¡°I¡¯m good to keep going. How about you? Can you actually help with this, or are you here for mostly moral support?¡±

    ¡°Moral support is help.¡± Pearl pouts, but doesn¡¯t say anything more.

    I take that to mean there¡¯s a good long stretch of work and conversation ahead of me. With a wince I press the small of my back, then lean forward to get a better look at the weapon I¡¯m about to put together. It¡¯s somehow even more complicated than the holster, and from the looks of the amplifier, it¡¯s even more complicated than the weapon.

    Looks like I¡¯m pulling an all-nighter if I want this done before tomorrow.

    <hr>

    Well, it took even longer than expected, but after nearly six straight hours of complex puzzles I¡¯m finally done. I smile with pride as I gently run my fingertip down the razor-sharp blade made of shellraiser shells and slide it into the glass and wood sheathe that accompanies it with a satisfying hiss. The matrix sits right next to it; a hexagon of wood and glass decorated and etched with shellraiser shells that are supposed to empower me somehow.

    There¡¯s only one, teensy tiny, itty bitty, absolutely major problem¨Cmy soul stat. With only one of it to my name I can only connect one of these things to my Class Card. I played around with my system a little in the few breaks I took and found that they appear under my spells and skills tab, which has been renamed to spells, skills, and mechanisms. It¡¯s as easy as pressing on one name and ejecting it to switch which one I have equipped, but I was kind of expecting a real boost in power.

    Not¡­ whatever it is I have now.

    Shellraiser Mechanism: Shellbound Knife.

    Connection established: insert Worth or coin-like objects into the handle to empower this weapon.

    Further details will be shown as you discover them.

    Shellraiser Mechanism: Personal Empowerment Matrix.

    Connection established: insert Worth of coin-like objects into the heart of this mechanism to empower yourself.

    Further details will be shown as you discover them.

    The worst part is that everything costs Worth. The matrix does literally nothing without them, the holster only makes it easier to use coins, and the knife¡­ well, I guess it¡¯s still a knife even if I don¡¯t put anything in it. Not sure if that means I should use it as my one connected mechanism or if it¡¯s better off not being connected at all.

    I sigh and grab the sheathe and the hexagon, then toss the both of them into my backpack. The thing¡¯s been good at keeping everything else intact, so might as well trust it with them.

    ¡°What¡¯s the heavy sigh for?¡± Pearl asks with a tiny yawn. ¡°Is it the same as a few minutes ago, or is it a new thing?¡±

    ¡°Same thing as before. Finding out that everything needs to be coin-powered when that¡¯s the one thing I¡¯m seriously short on is annoying.¡± I swing the pack over my shoulder and raise my chin at the last blueprint. ¡°So what are we going to do about blueprint number four? Any reason we didn¡¯t start on it while we worked on the others?¡±

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a very good reason. Just not one we have control over, unfortunately. Most of the materials are the same¨Cwood, glass, and shells¨Cbut we¡¯re missing a vitally important compound; raw magical extract.¡±

    Raw magical extract? That sounds like something I could¡¯ve bought from Gil¡¯s shop. Or a quest reward I haven¡¯t been offered yet.

    ¡°Alright, then; how are we supposed to get that?¡±

    Pearl sighs and shakes her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. We had entire processing operations for it way back when and a bunch of magical stuff to run through them. Minerals rich in the raw magic of the earth, plants that consumed magic through their roots, water that sat above an ancient sunken ship; that kind of thing. If we had some way of breaking down your shell shards and mixing them with the right acids, we could turn them into the extract.¡±

    ¡°But we don¡¯t have those things here.¡± I finish for her when she doesn¡¯t. She nods in confirmation with a defeated look, but I¡¯m not quite there yet. ¡°What about potions? Do you need that extract to make them?¡±

    ¡°No, you can use tinted extracts. Like¡­ fruits and animals and stuff that have properties you want to put into the potion. A potion made with pure magical extract would be way more expensive than a normal one, and not necessarily any more powerful.¡±

    A smile pulls at my lips as I pull my water bottle out of my backpack. ¡°What if¨Cand I¡¯m just spitballing here¨Csomeone had a water bottle that magically purifies anything inside of it? And she also had a useless mana potion she emptied into it in the hopes that it would give her fresh water?¡±

    Pearl stares down at the water bottle in disbelief, then up at me with unbridled excitement shining in her eyes. ¡°Please tell me that isn¡¯t a hypothetical. Shelby, please tell me you aren¡¯t kidding around with me!¡±

    I set the bottle down on the platform and gesture at it. ¡°Take a look for yourself if you don¡¯t believe me.¡±

    She does just that; scampering down my arm to press her face against my water bottle with pure anticipation. A thick blue powder lines the inside of the filter that glimmers like crushed sapphires mixed with freshly fallen snow. The rest of the bottle is filled with a silvery-white liquid that shimmers and twists as if trying to make a whirlpool on its own.

    ¡°Oh my gosh, it actually worked.¡± She gingerly runs her hands up and down the bottle as if it would shatter from too heavy a touch. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen a filtering setup like this since¡­ well¡­ ever! And you just got it for free when you appeared here?!¡±

    ¡°Indeed I did.¡± I confirm with a nod. ¡°Will that be enough raw mana to make the shell?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more than enough! We¡¯ll have to use about half of it to make the shell itself, and then a quarter for a layer of liquid between the shell and the power core, which leaves us with another quarter to play around with! Can I use it? I promise I¡¯ll put it towards something useful for both of us.¡±

    ¡°If it means I get the power core, you can knock yourself out.¡±

    Pearl squeals happily and hugs the bottle. ¡°Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! I won¡¯t disappoint you! Give me five minutes to look over the plan again, then I¡¯ll get started on¡­ it¡­¡±

    A massive yawn interrupts her excitement and brings her pause. She reluctantly looks at the raw extract, then sighs and steps away. Her fingers stick to it for as long as physically possible, but eventually even those fall away as she clambers up my arm to her shell.

    ¡°I wish I wasn¡¯t this tired, but I am. And if we¡¯re going to make something as important as the power core shell, I can¡¯t make any mistakes. Can we spend one more night here?¡±

    I clench my jaw and steal a glance at the door tracks that lead up the ceiling. One more night might not sound like much, but I can¡¯t spend that much time being useless. But I¡¯ve got a potion that can partially remedy that¨Cin one way or another. I grab the flask of bottled sleep, swipe over to my information tab, and finally check it out.

    Bottled Sleep

    A low-grade twist on a stamina potion that recovers alertness and removes fatigue.

    The effects are purely mental; your body will not heal as it does when it normally sleeps.

    ¡°Do potions work on you, Pearl?¡± I ask as I take a small sip, then shudder as a horrific flavour combination of intense ginger and burnt coffee assaults my tastebuds. ¡°Oh, god, that¡¯s horrible.¡±

    She raises an eyebrow at my reaction, curiosity written plainly on her face. ¡°No, they unfortunately don¡¯t. What does it taste like?¡±

    I wipe my mouth and shudder again. ¡°Like I just poured ginger ale into an ashtray and slurped up the thick slurry.¡±

    ¡°...I don¡¯t know what either of those things are, but that sounds horrible.¡± She says with¡­ is that jealousy in her voice? No, it can¡¯t be. Who would be jealous of this garbage?

    ¡°Okay, then. Can you open the door for me?¡±

    Pearl looks at me like I have two heads, but nods anyway. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t trust you, but why?¡±

    I walk over to the door to let her press her hand to it. The entire thing starts to rumble the second she does, and I shift my backpack to make sure it¡¯s as comfortable as possible. Don¡¯t want it smacking against me every time I take a step.

    ¡°Because I¡¯m about to have a few free hours that I¡¯m not going to spend sitting around doing nothing.¡± I say as I watch the door rise into the roof. ¡°There¡¯s a trove of barely raided skeletal ghost quarters just a few hours from here, and I¡¯m going to remedy that.¡±

 Chapter 24: Buried Secrets

    Jogging to the pile of frozen sand and back is a long and boring ordeal. Doubly so with nobody to talk to, but it¡¯s one that has to be done. It only takes me about two hours to get there, another hour to find enough skeletal ghost quarters to fill up an inventory slot and the six on my holster, then two more to run back while I fester in the stench that clings to my body. Pearl starts to stir near the end of hour five, and she pops out of her shell thirty minutes later while I¡¯m leaning against the door to the workshop and screwing around with my Class Card.

    ¡°Morning, Shelby.¡± She says with a tiny yawn. ¡°How did it go?¡±

    I grin and raise the holster up for emphasis. ¡°Got this filled and an entire inventory slot full of skeletons. Probably could¡¯ve gotten more, but the smell made me want to pull my own eyes out just to stuff them up my nose.¡±

    She shudders at the memory of the stench, then full-blown convulses at the real stench that clings to me like a needy ex. ¡°Uurgh. Get in the workshop. The magic in there will clean you up again.¡±

    Again? Huh guess, that explains why I couldn¡¯t smell myself when I woke up from a nearly three day nap. I step back to let the door rise into the ceiling, then duck under it when there¡¯s just enough room for me to get in. Pearl does something to make it close again, and I beeline for the raised platform with supplies that¡¯s just like I left it almost six hours ago.

    I grab the edge of the control panel to let Pearl onto it, then gesture over at the mold maker on the other side of the shop. ¡°I¡¯m willing to risk the ceiling things now.¡±

    ¡°So am I.¡± She agrees with a few taps on the panel that convert to mechanical screeches as chains lower down on the other side of the room.

    They seem to melt into the mold maker as they lower, simply disappearing into it like a pinch of salt in water. Pearl stops them with a press of her finger, then starts to raise them with a swipe. Instead of coming loose the chains act like they were permanently welded onto the mold maker, pulling it up into the air just high enough to clear the row of control panels before it shudders and starts to move towards Pearl and I.

    ¡°Is this what it¡¯s supposed to do?¡± I ask as I watch the chains groan and sway under the strain of the mold maker. ¡°Because it, uh, sounds like something¡¯s going to snap and shatter at any second.¡±

    Pearl¡¯s too busy biting her lip and focusing on the mold maker to notice. I take that as a loud and clear ¡®no¡¯ to my question and swipe my water bottle away while taking more than a few huge steps back. Something tells me the mold maker will easily survive falling from that height¨Cbut whatever it falls onto won¡¯t be anywhere near as lucky.

    Creaks and clanks ring out louder and louder as the mold maker grows closer and closer. The tracks on the ceiling turn visibly whiter and hotter under all the heat and strain. Even the air around them shimmers like the road on a particularly hot summer afternoon. Pearl lets out a worried hum as the mold maker sways awkwardly in place a few feet away from our platform.

    Glass shatters. The mold maker crashes to the ground with a titanic ¡®boom¡¯, sending shards of glass spraying everywhere like a bomb just went off. I yelp in surprise and raise my arms, barely recognising the little voice in the back of my mind that tells me to actually protect myself and Pearl. The sound of light clinking pepper everywhere around me, but no pain comes. Not even a little discomfort in taking a breath from all the dust that just got kicked up.

    ¡°Thank you so much Shelby.¡± Pearl says shakily. ¡°Gosh, that definitely would have hurt a whole lot if not for your shields.¡±

    ¡­My shields? I don¡¯t remember giving any commands for shields. I slowly lower my arms to see a shield protecting me from the front, wrapped around to my sides and over my head, leaving only my back exposed to the world. Pearl¡¯s in a very similar situation, except she¡¯s got a bubble completely encasing her and the control panel she¡¯s standing on.

    I look down at the coin holster, and sure enough, there are two missing. The empty spaces are filled in not a second later, but there¡¯s a weird feeling in the back of my mind. I made those shields. But I didn¡¯t physically push the spells into the coins. And I definitely didn¡¯t think to trigger them.

    It had to be the holster. Somehow, it took the smallest little bit of my intentions and acted on it. I¡­ probably have to look into that. Since it could just as easily protect me¨Clike it just did¨Cor act on some errant thought that definitely wasn¡¯t supposed to go out into reality.

    ¡°Yeah. I think the holster works.¡± I say slowly as I brush the shields away and walk back to Pearl¡¯s side. ¡°It¡¯s like how I could react to things under your awareness. And it could have way too much of a hair trigger.¡±

    Pearl crosses her arms and pouts for some reason. ¡°But that¡¯s about the only thing I¡¯m useful for. Now how am I supposed to help you out?¡±

    I roll my eyes and gently pat her on the head. ¡°Just because it helps me with spells, doesn¡¯t mean it does everything else your awareness does. Hell, putting the two of them together is probably a lot more powerful than using either of them on their own.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just saying that.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I am. Maybe I¡¯m not. Maybe we¡¯ll have to actually fight something for me to really know. Get that mold thing running, and I¡¯ll work on gathering the rest of the materials we need.¡±

    She sighs, but I can tell she wasn¡¯t really serious before. Not fully, at least. ¡°Okay. So, for the portable shell, we need¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Another fairly long manufacturing process later, Pearl and I have the completed power core shell. It looks almost exactly like a conch shell, save for the fact that it¡¯s as big as a soccer ball and made of glass, wood, and shell instead of¡­ just shell. And¡­ well¡­ it¡¯s actually only mostly completed. We can¡¯t put in the rest of the magical extract until there¡¯s a power core inside of it for reasons that are censored to me, and a few other strange things that are¨Cwait for it¨Calso censored. That frustrates Pearl just as much as me, as apparently they¡¯re pretty critical to the sensitive process we¡¯re about to go through.

    Then there¡¯s the one tiny problem of us not knowing where the power core actually is. We¡¯ve searched the place high and low, scouring every nook and cranny for anything that looks even slightly out of place, but to no avail. We know it¡¯s here¨Cthere wouldn¡¯t be power to anything if it wasn¡¯t. So we just have to find where they hid it.

    I toss aside a plank of splintered lumber and shake my head. It clatters to the ground far below, and I swing my legs over the edge of the highest shelf in the entire workshop.

    ¡°Not here, either!¡± I call down to Pearl, who¡¯s off in the desk room looking for hints. ¡°Find anything useful yet?!¡±

    ¡°No!¡± She calls back. ¡°I know we built these places to hide the power cores, since they¡¯re so valuable and all, but why¡¯d we have to be so darn good at hiding them?! It¡¯s almost like whoever built this place didn¡¯t trust anyone who was working here!¡±

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    I swivel around and start to climb down the high shelves. ¡°So there aren¡¯t even hints in the memories you saw?¡±

    She steps out of the desk room just as my feet hit the ground. When she sees me, she shakes her head and hurries over to me far faster than I expect. She¡¯s up my arm and in her shell before she even starts talking.

    ¡°Nothing for actually finding the core, no. She saw someone coming in once to make sure it was running right, but they made everyone else leave the workshop before the inspector came. So I know there¡¯s some way to access it, but I just can¡¯t figure it out.¡± She sighs in frustration and looks around the room. ¡°Is there anything we¡¯ve missed? Like¡­ could we get under the platforms somehow? No, I saw them rise up to the ceiling, and there wasn''t anything below¡­ OH! I¡¯ve got an idea! The sand dispenser!¡±

    ¡°The sand dispenser?¡± I repeat and turn to look at the indent on the wall. ¡°You think the core¡¯s stored in there somehow?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ maybe it''s not actually stored there, but our cores run really cold. Like, really, really cold. Cold enough to freeze sand right away, and if all the protections have failed on it, then that might explain why the dispenser¡¯s dispensing frozen blocks instead of just pouring sand out like I saw in the memories.¡±

    ¡°Wait. You saw that it wasn¡¯t blocks of frozen sand in the memories and you didn¡¯t think to bring it up until now?¡± I take a deep breath through my nose and shake my head. ¡°Pearl, we¡¯ve been running around for almost half an hour looking for a needle in a haystack. And you just revealed that the hay wasn¡¯t supposed to be frozen all this time.¡±

    ¡°Not hay¨Csand.¡± Pearl chuckles sheepishly. ¡°I guess it just made sense to me, since the cold reached all the way to that hole from before. But maybe that was all due to the power core, too.¡±

    ¡°And the reason we don¡¯t feel the cold in here is because¡­?¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°I don¡¯t have any answers here, Shelby. Maybe the workshop has a really good heating system. Maybe the glass doesn¡¯t conduct cold very well. We can make theories all we want, or we could try to get into the dispenser and find out what the truth really is.¡±

    ¡°Possibly freezing ourselves in the process.¡± I mutter under my breath, but make my way to the dispenser anyway. ¡°Alright, you¡¯re the one with the ideas. Go hit numbers until inspiration strikes.¡±

    ¡°How did you know exactly what I was planning?¡± Pearl giggles, then runs down my arm to rest on the panel. ¡°Can you clear away all the extra sand I¡¯m going to end up taking out, please?¡±

    I nod and stand back a little while she starts to type away. ¡°You think there were any hints on¡­ the¡­¡±

    The entire walls swings open with a loud screech, glass gliding effortlessly over glass as Pearl tumbles from the panel with a surprised little yelp. She scampers back to me and climbs up to my shoulder, then joins me in watching with unrestrained awe as a maze of pipes, cables, tubes, and cold steam comes into view. But nothing that looks like it could dispense sand¨Cthat¡¯s stuck on the other side of the wall that just swung out of the way.

    ¡°How did you know what to put in?¡± I demand without looking away from the well-lit space that has to lead to the power core. ¡°Was it on the blueprint for the shell?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°I just typed in the numerical equivalent for ¡®core access¡¯, and that opened. It seems like¡­ way too little security. Somebody had to have tried that way before we did.¡±

    ¡°Apparently not.¡± I say as the chill washes in from the room. ¡°Before we go in there, we need to know exactly how we¡¯re moving the core. I¡¯m not turning into a human popsicle just because we don¡¯t know what we¡¯re doing.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s definitely going to be an operating manual or something like that when we get in. We wouldn¡¯t let anyone rely purely on memory, especially if the core was regularly maintained.¡± Pearl says confidently and gestures into the maze of industry. ¡°I bet they keep all the really important blueprints somewhere inside there, too. Like for that thing that almost killed you. Or for a __________ _________.¡±

    The censorship cuts into my mind like a white-hot knife, digging away any traces of what Pearl just said and replacing them with searing pain. But it doesn¡¯t go away after a second. It lingers as a warning to never get close to whatever that information is until my Mind is high enough. And even still, the burning sensation remains, searing the warning into my very being.

    ¡°Shelby? Did it censor again?¡±

    I grunt in pain and start for the blissful cold. ¡°That¡¯s an understatement. Whatever you just said, you can¡¯t say it again. Or mention anything related to it. Hell, if you find a blueprint for it, don¡¯t even tell me. Just memorize it and throw it as far away as possible so I don¡¯t catch a glimpse of it.¡±

    She winces in sympathy. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t realize it would be that bad. I¡¯ll try to keep our military secrets a little more secret from now on.¡±

    She better. Or else I¡¯m going to be more headache than human very soon. I brush aside the pain as best as I can and soldier on into the brightness¨Cpast pipes with icicles that hang like rows of fangs, cables that pulse with magical light, and so many miscellaneous metal things that don¡¯t look like they serve any purpose at all. Pearl oohs and aahs at the sights, but she¡¯s not the one that has to carefully maneuver through the freezing cold wasteland of metal that¡¯ll steal my skin from me if I so much as touch it.

    Hollow ringing grows in intensity as I get deeper and deeper. The cold seeps into my skin and nudges at my bones, sending shivers through my entire body that are so intense that it feels like pulling a muscle every time. More pipes hang lower and lower, constraining the space to barely enough for one of me. The cables crisscross everywhere like a web woven by a schizophrenic spider, and the magic splits into multiple colours of light the further I go. What was once pure white turns into greens and blues and reds and yellows which darken and darken towards absolute blackness as the cold intensifies.

    Pearl taps on my cheek to get my attention, then points off to my right. I blink slowly, frost coating my eyelashes and lips, and try to see what she¡¯s pointing out. The frost in the air almost completely obscures the glass chest near my feet. A simple thing with a rounded lid and square bottom that¡¯s completely opaque and so coated in frost that I can¡¯t imagine it opening.

    ¡°I can¡¯t touch that.¡± I say through chattering teeth. ¡°And I can¡¯t take it into my inventory. What do you want me to do?¡±

    ¡°Break it.¡± Pearl says with a shiver. ¡°We don¡¯t need the chest-just whatever¡¯s inside.¡±

    I look down at it, then nod slowly and flick two fingers out. A coin appears between them from the intent alone, and I push a projectile into them that I intend to fly for as long as possible. After a few steps to position myself so the projectile flies back out the way we came while making sure I don¡¯t touch any of the walls or pipes, I let it fly.

    It bursts into being, shearing the very top of the chest clean off and spiraling into the distance. I gesture down at it, but Pearl¡¯s already on the move. Touching glass like it doesn¡¯t even bother her, save for the slight tint of bluish white that creeps onto her feet and hands.

    ¡°Brr!¡± She exclaims as she jumps into the chest and starts to rummage around. ¡°Ooh, we hit the motherlode here! Five military blueprints, one for the power core assembly itself, and the list of changes they¡¯ve done to the power core over the years! This¡¯ll be more than enough!¡±

    She jumps out of the chest, bluish-white climbing her body like moss up a tree. ¡°Pick me up, please!¡±

    I reach out a hand to let her scurry back up, but she doesn¡¯t move. That¡¯s weird as hell, but it doesn¡¯t really change anything. My fingers gently wrap around her cool form, careful not to squish her and make her drop the blueprints, and drop her on my shoulder. She shivers intensely, then sits down instead of going back into her shell.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    Pearl tilts her head to the side. ¡°I¡¯m freezing cold and it¡¯s done damage to my body that I¡¯ll have to heal. But other than that, I¡¯m fine. Here¨Ctake a look at this!¡± She shoves one of the blueprints at my face. ¡°I think you¡¯ll like what you see!¡±

    I lean back a little from Pearl¡¯s insistent pushing. ¡°I¡¯ll take it, just don¡¯t push so hard.¡±

    I reach up and take the slate, but before I even start looking at it in earnest, I recognize the thing. A ring of shell spikes, all pointing straight up in a circle around a platform of glass. A long tail stretches behind it, but from the second image, it looks like it can curl around the platform to create a large circle. But it¡¯s not a weapon.

    It¡¯s a teleporter.

 Chapter 25: Transfer of Power

    Suddenly, the cold seems like the least of my problems. My hands tremble for an entirely different reason as I stare down at the slate, countless different possibilities fighting to take hold of my mind. A teleporter. It didn¡¯t destroy the ground under me, it teleported all of it to¡­ somewhere else. Turning the sand into glass in the process.

    So where was it supposed to send me? To one of the tutorial towns like Gil? Maybe straight to the bottom of the ocean to kill me. Or¡­ just a little bit closer to the place I¡¯m supposed to be heading towards. Would I still have met Pearl if I got teleported? Why didn¡¯t it teleport me while I was sleeping? Did that shovel from way before protect me somehow, and it¡¯s the only reason I¡¯m still here?

    ¡°Pearl, did you know it was a teleporter?¡±

    She tilts her head to the side. ¡°You didn¡¯t give me a serious description of it. Our teleporters and weapons are pretty similar by design so our enemies can¡¯t just find one and try to use it. Well, not without the risk of killing whoever tries to go in. Double-check to make sure you saw a teleporter?¡±

    I shake my head and tap the slate with my knuckles. ¡°I know this is what I saw. The descriptions of the functions, the way the shell spikes light up, and then there¡¯s the fact that it¡¯s completely uncensored. The only one out of all of these. My quest wants me to see this. It¡­ wants me to know I wasn¡¯t really in danger at all.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you were definitely still in danger. A teleporter that goes to the bottom of the ocean or into outer space can kill you a whole lot easier than a conventional weapon.¡± Pearl says in a tone that sounds like she¡¯s trying to reassure me. ¡°We don¡¯t know if the system was using the teleporter, or if it was a wayward machine running ancient programs to kill, kidnap, or just relocate you. The only way to find out is to disable it.¡±

    ¡°How does that prove anything?¡±

    ¡°Because I can check the command logs once there¡¯s no risk of it teleporting us to nowhere. But I¡¯m willing to bet it¡¯s something system-based since it gave you a quest to destroy it. Right, one more thing¨Cwas there anything that came before the teleporter? Like¡­ a warning sign, or something that did weird things to the sand?¡±

    I nod and reach back to put the slates into my backpack, leaving only the one with the power core on it out for Pearl to study.

    ¡°There was a sapphire shovel. I only really caught a glimpse of the shovel part itself, not the handle, so that could¡¯ve been made of shellraiser shells for all I know. And¡­ it made a bunch of sand-walls around me while I slept.¡±

    ¡°Probably to protect you from the teleporter.¡± Pearl cuts in. ¡°I don¡¯t remember hearing about anything like that, so it¡¯s probably a system-made thing. Or it was made after I was turned into a quest item. Should we go looking for it after we¡¯re done here?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°It sank into the sand while it shone the colour of Fate. The only way I¡¯m finding it is if the system decides I need it.¡±

    Pearl makes a little noise of agreement, then shivers so violently she almost falls from my shoulder. I shift to make sure she doesn¡¯t, then gesture at my backpack while raising my eyebrow. She purses her lips, but when she goes to talk, they stick together enough that it comes out muffled. And instead of trying to argue, or whatever she was attempting to do, she just blushes slightly and crawls into my backpack.

    ¡°Do you need a light in there?¡± I ask as I get moving again.

    A few long seconds pass before I get an answer. ¡°No, I can see just fine in here, thank you. Tell me when you see the core itself, okay? The sooner we get it into the shell, the sooner we can get warm again.¡±

    ¡°Amen to that.¡± I chuckle, then snap my mouth shut as the cold hits my teeth in just the wrong way. I keep it shut for the next couple of minutes, walking down the ever more cluttered bowels of the workshop towards a power core that¡¯s so far out of the way for seemingly no reason. Hell, it would make a lot more sense to put it closer to the workshop so you don¡¯t have to deal with all these pipes and cables. There¡¯d be a lot less that could go wrong if there wasn¡¯t a mile of them the power¡¯s running through.

    As I walk, the cold grows. It sticks to my skin like a thick paste, coating my very being in a layer of frost that seems to seep further into me by the second. I flex my fingers over and over in an attempt to keep them from going numb, my nose burns from the serious cold, and my lips are so dry that they¡¯re starting to crack. Just keeping my eyes open is a task in and of itself, one that¡¯s getting a whole lot harder by the second.

    If there was any kind of airflow, I¡¯d probably be done by now. But the dead-still cold stays just that¨Cstill and cold. Step by step I get closer and closer to the source of the cold, but the scenery never changes. Just the temperature.

    Until suddenly it doesn¡¯t. Something washes over me like a calm breeze on a winter morning, and then it¡¯s there. A massive chunk of twisted shells connected to countless cables and pipes, sitting inside of a complex glass machine that¡¯s almost completely frosted over. I blink in surprise and look over my shoulder, but it looks just like the hallway I¡¯d come from.

    There must be some kind of¡­ cloaking spell on this thing. But there¡¯s no reason for it. Anyone who got this far had to have known there was something more down here, so it wouldn¡¯t keep anyone away. And if not to do that, then why cloak it in the first place?

    ¡°Pearl.¡± I whisper through cracked lips and pat my backpack. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±

    A shuddering groan echoes against my back, and I feel the things in my pack shifting as Pearl pulls herself out. First comes a blue-white head, then two blue-white arms, followed by a mostly blue-white body that tapers off to her regular colour only around where her ribs and stomach would be. Then it¡¯s right back to blue-white for her hips and legs. She gestures for me to pick her up with barely any energy.

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    ¡°Holy shit, are you okay?¡± I reach to help her into my hands, which are pretty much numb at this point. ¡°You look horrible.¡±

    She cracks a smile. By which I mean a piece of her face cracks off when she tries to smile. ¡°This really isn¡¯t my colour, huh?¡±

    I scramble to catch the piece, but it shatters on the ground like weak porcelain. We both stare down at it for a second as Pearl turns even whiter, then gestures aggressively at the machine. I hurry over to it as fast as I can, bobbing and weaving around the frosted glass pipes while also looking for any kind of panel she might need for access.

    ¡°Where is it?¡± I hiss in frustration and worry. ¡°There has to be a control panel around here somewhere.¡±

    One circle around the machine comes up with nothing. On the second I barely notice something sticking out from the opposite side of where we came in from, so encased in ice that it doesn¡¯t look like anything at all. I make the split second decision that whoever made this place had to have made it bomb-proof, and accept whatever consequences come with it. Then I shift Pearl into my left hand, force a projectile into a skeletal coin, and launch it at the control panel.

    Ice and glass shear away under the magical intensity, but the control panel itself survives without a scratch. I can¡¯t say the same for the floor underneath it, or the pipe above it that¡¯s now spewing out some kind of half-liquid magic into the room. It flows into my nostrils and rips a violent cough out of me, opening the wounds on my lips to let tiny rivulets of blood drip out. For all of a split second before they freeze up once again.

    Pearl pushes back against my palm with a wince. ¡°Put me there. I¡¯ll open it.¡±

    I do exactly as she asks. She stumbles onto the panel, tiny chunks of her body chipping off with every little move she makes. It rips my heart in two seeing her struggle so much, and the only thing that stops me from taking her back and shoving her into my inventory is the danger to my life. To both of our lives.

    She taps on the panel a few times until a screen comes up with some kind of I.D. system. I bite my lip in worry, which causes a little bit of it to shatter. We need an I.D. The worker¡¯s memories never showed her being allowed in here, so there¡¯s no way she had one. Maybe¡­ maybe if I put together all my coins, I can make a projectile violent enough to¨C

    The screen flashes black. Speckles of colour swarm in from the borders, coating everything in Pearl¡¯s colour. They coalesce into a symbol in the middle of everything, but as it forms, the system starts to censor it. Then it really starts censoring it. My brain feels like it stops working for a split second, and I force myself to turn away, but the sensation lingers. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes, only to freeze instantly as a shiver works its way through my mind. And it¡¯s accompanied by one single word on a golden screen.

    FORGET

    I squeeze my eyes shut as the system assaults my mind. It isn¡¯t just pain anymore. Forcibly inserted terror and sadness scrape together like two perfectly sharpened knives, then dig deep into the soft flesh of my memories. They carve something out, mince it up into tiny pieces, and reform it as something noticeably less than it was. I try to remember what the console looked like.

    Nothing¡¯s missing. Which means¡­ I must¡¯ve seen what was actually on the console. And it was important enough that the system ripped the memory of it out of my brain.

    ¡°Shelby, I have access.¡± Pearl says weakly, snapping me back to an equally painful reality. ¡°Do you have the shell?¡±

    I nod and summon the shell from my inventory, then reach back and pull the water bottle from my backpack. ¡°I have everything ready. What do I need to do?¡±

    Pearl slowly leans back and starts to fall. I¡¯m moving before I can really register what¡¯s going on, and the second my fingers touch her, I pull her into my inventory. She isn¡¯t completely blue-white just yet, but the image of her shattering on the floor terrifies the hell out of me. The shell wobbles in my hand, and the bottle swings from one finger dangerously close to the panel.

    Before I have a moment to think, the glass around the core shatters all at once. It bursts into a fine powder that freezes near instantly, clattering to the ground in frozen chunks that break once more on impact. Raw, unadulterated cold emanates from the core like an inverted sun. I can feel all the remaining moisture in my skin starting to freeze, and my vision starts to go¡­ glassy. Almost like my eyes are freezing.

    I swallow hard and press my lips tightly shut. Cold flows down my throat like the harshest drink, wracking me with shivers and twitches that threaten to debilitate me. But I can¡¯t give in to the cold¨CI¡¯ve got maybe a minute before this kills me, so it has to be now. I shakily uncap the water bottle. The skin on my fingers shatters away as I push, but no blood comes forth.

    The lid comes undone and clatters to the ground. I try my best to ignore the white sticking through my fingertips and turn the bottle over into the shell, which starts to pulsate with an inner rainbow of colours the second it hits. The slightest warmth I¡¯ve ever felt comes along with the light, but it doesn¡¯t bring relief. It just ignites the pain that the cold has been masking.

    I would bite down on my cheek to try and endure the pain, but I¡¯m terrified my teeth will shatter if I put too much pressure on them. They already feel brittle and wrong from all the cold. And the heat from the shell is nowhere near enough to reach my face. My eyes grow glassier by the second. The cold bleeds away to absolutely nothing. Maybe even on the warm side of things.

    From what I know about freezing to death, that¡¯s an absolutely horrible sign. I stumble towards the core, presenting the shell like a peasant offering tribute to their monarch. Everything goes white. A soft hissing noise cuts through everything as my consciousness slips away.

    As my mind spirals down to a single point, all I can feel is a slight encroaching warmth.

    <hr>

    The first thing I smell is blood. Warm, metallic, and very much not-frozen blood. Pain shoots through every muscle, every bone, and every organ as my body is pulled from blissful nothing back into the real world. I think I¡¯m screaming. My throat is vibrating like I am, but I can¡¯t hear anything. Can¡¯t see anything, either. Every sense except for pain is dull and old, and even pain isn¡¯t the shooting agony I know it can be.

    Just¡­ a dull ache. I know that¡¯s wrong. I know the state my body was in when I collapsed. Pain should be all I know¨Cnot just a small part of it. It takes a few tries to swing into what I¡¯m pretty sure is a sitting up position, but I could honestly just as easily be face-down on the glass. Half-delusional and dying as the core thaws what¡¯s left of my body.

    I try to speak. My tongue doesn¡¯t move. My throat rumbles, but no sounds come forth. I don¡¯t want to believe it, but¡­ I¡¯m deaf. Blind. And I can¡¯t even feel anything. I grope around me for some kind of¡­ anything¡­ but the second my fingers touch something blistering agony shoots up my arm and stabs my brain like a rusty icepick.

    Those aren¡¯t fingertips. They¡¯re bones.

    Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I¡¯m so screwed. There¡¯s nowhere near enough healing potion left to fix this, and I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to force it down my throat if there was. I can¡¯t even ask Pearl to get it, since she¡¯s stuck in my inventory, probably mostly frozen too and liable to shatter if I accidentally drop her. But¡­ there has to be something I can do. There¡¯s no way this is how I die, right?

    Uncaring silence roars back.

 Chapter 26: The Dark Has Teeth

    Time¡­ passes. I don¡¯t know how long. My thoughts come in sporadic bursts, but only last as long as the pain doesn¡¯t. Every time I come to I feel like less of a person. Anemic. Dizzy. Faraway. Horrific understanding and denial as my problems don¡¯t even start to go away. Whatever happened to my eyes doesn¡¯t leave with the cold. The dull, constant droning in my ears that isn¡¯t even really a sound is the only thing I can hear.

    Warm tears roll down my cheeks. Blood flows from the gashes on my lips. I try to raise my hand to touch my face, but I don¡¯t even have the strength for that small motion. The pain finally overtakes the numbness, and my mind retreats to the safety of nothingness to protect itself.

    <hr>

    Something bites at my leg. I don¡¯t have the energy to panic. My back starts to scrape against the glass below, but even that sensation dies away sooner rather than later. With the last bit of effort I can manage, I call the power core shell back into my inventory. A sensation tells me that it worked, and that somehow, the power core inside came with it. I sense warnings and multiple screens pop up, but I can¡¯t read them for shit.

    As if responding to my thoughts, the screens implant their information directly into my mind.

    Warning; you do not have permission to have this.

    Notice; these permissions have been overridden by a higher authority than the shellraiser who initially locked the power core.

    If you lose the favor of Pearlescence for any reason, you will lose the ability to use this item.

    Shellraiser Power Core: ???? grade.

    Stores enough magical energy to power nearly any shellraiser-created device.

    The higher your Soul stat, the more of this item¡¯s magical energy you can withstand.

    A higher authority. That has to be Pearl. So¡­ if we have a falling-out, she gets the power core. Or if she dies, neither of us can use it. My mind wanders to the poor little frozen goo-fairy in my inventory, and a pang of guilt is met with equal parts frustration.

    If she¡¯d told me she was weak to cold, I could¡¯ve kept her in my inventory for safekeeping. Or we could¡¯ve left the hallway, read up on the power core, and gone back later. But for some reason she just powered through. At the risk of her own life. I¡­ why? Why would she do that?

    My head slams against something, and everything goes white.

    <hr>

    Flashes of pure white cut through the darkness. Blossoms of red follow like a dancer¡¯s ribbons, flowing out into the nothingness and breaking apart into fractals that swirl like violent whirlpools of blood. Visions of teeth bite deep into my mind, into my arms, into my legs, into my very DNA; ripping everything apart in an uncontrolled feeding frenzy. Blood sprays out in a violent circle around me.

    Pure white becomes tainted with red. Teeth tear through my weakness, shredding it to tiny little pieces and tossing it aside like the useless part of me it was. They bite deep into my heart, piercing through to what should kill me. I shudder as electricity flows into my mind. The teeth retract, and lips are licked as they savor the taste of me. Not just my flesh, but of everything that makes me me.

    Countless jagged edges bite down onto the left side of my neck. The maw they belong to is so huge that it reaches down to my chest, completely taking my arm into a warm prison of violent comfort. Magic rages against my fingertips, knitting them together into something that doesn¡¯t hurt like hell. I want to scream. To sigh in relief. To¡­ do anything. But I can¡¯t.

    I¡¯m dead, after all.

    You have died.

    Returning your corpse to Earth in: 0:11:22.

    See? Dead as a doornail. I¡­ wait, what the hell? Is¡­ is this some kind of joke? Why can I still think? What¡¯s with all these teeth? Piercing through my skin and muscle, but retracting moments later without ripping and tearing?

    I try to move. One of my fingertips twitches. The prison around my arm flinches like it had just been shot, and a deluge of violent warmth flows into my body. Crimson tides flow through the teeth and into my shoulder, right around my heart, and forces its way into my body¡¯s engine. But it¡¯s not alone. Thin strands of cosmic black dotted with speckles of brilliant colours hold tight to the flow. It coils and spins in a helix like DNA, crashing into my own and¡­ changing me.

    A painful jerk sends my hand further into the warm prison. It vibrates around me as if humming, then the teeth around my shoulder bite deeper. The flow doubles. Triples. Surges through my body and leaves my veins feeling like balloons inflated to their absolute maximum. Everything inside is washed away, torn into nothing, and devoured by whatever this mixture of blood and cosmic darkness is.

    This living hell continues for far too long. All the while I can only lie motionless in nothing and watch the timer count inexorably down. Just as it¡¯s about to hit one single minute remaining my world fills with electricity. Long strands of the stuff, like neurons reaching out to touch each other in my brain, snapping and crackling as it crashes into itself. Every crash brings with it a sensation. Touch. Taste. Smell. They all come back, one at a time, until I can truly feel the pain my body is in.

    My eyes tear open to a cloud of white. It hangs in the air like a scream unripped from a throat, and I can make out silhouettes that definitely aren¡¯t people. One of them stands low-ish to the ground, like a massive wolf, and the other is a tiny thing that sits on my chest, pounding tiny fists against my ribcage as rivers of black essence flow out of her and¡­ into an open wound.

    Teeth keep my skin peeled back. I can see my own organs and ribs. My bones vibrate like a malfunctioning carnival ride tinged with a cherry red that seems violently familiar. Blood flows into my heart through holes, but even those are starting to close up. I cough. Blood and spit bubble up from my throat, and air is forced painfully into my lungs as I start to breathe.

    Pearl lets out a wail of relief. I try to slowly sit up, but a massive weight on my arm prevents me from moving. She tries to keep me looking at her, but my curiosity wins out easily. My eyes trail over my shoulder to both the biggest shark and wolf I¡¯ve ever seen. Its black and sky blue eyes shine with intelligent amusement, and its teeth sink even deeper.

    My eyes roll back in my head as I pass out.

    You are alive.

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    But you are also no longer fully you.

    May your Fate guide you, Gambler.

    <hr>

    Soft, comforting light filters through sheer curtains and gently caresses my face. The warmth spreads through my body like a calming tea, and my eyes slowly flutter open to the comfortable sensations. I¡¯m lying in a simple bed¨Cwith a knitted blanket over plain lilac sheets, and a¡­ strange-looking stuffed animal under my right arm. It¡¯s like a snail-jellyfish with a shell that¡¯s soft and pleasant to squish.

    I smack my lips and slowly sit up. A look around confirms that the room is as plain as the bed¨Clacy curtains, wooden floors, and cream-coloured wallpaper that¡¯s peeling around the edges. There¡¯s a single dresser off in the corner, and a side table right next to the bed, but otherwise¡­ nothing. No door, no closet, nothing¡­ normal at all.

    ¡°Where the hell am I?¡± I mutter to myself, reaching up with one hand to tap my cheek. And look down to see my lips. Three scars decorate them now, each of them glimmering with a glossy golden sheen. They¡¯re almost like jewelry, not the injuries I know they are. ¡°I guess I actually died. But some kind of massive painted dane saved me somehow. So¡­ this has to be wherever Pearl managed to take me.¡±

    I swing my legs out from the bed and look down at my body. The first thing I notice are the massive bite marks over my neck and left shoulder, filled in with gooey darkness flecked with gold. I can almost fool myself into thinking they¡¯re tattoos, but I know the truth. And the other bites on my right hip, left calf, and right forearm confirm that truth.

    Plus, there''s the scar on my chest that¡¯s almost completely healed. Unlike all the others, it¡¯s disappearing before my very eyes. Almost like the rest of them serve a purpose, and this one was just a means to an end. Opening my chest so they could get at my¡­ heart.

    My hands clench into trembling fists as it really and truly hits me. I died. Not in the video game kind of way, or even the medical technicality way, but in the ¡®you don¡¯t get to come back¡¯ way. But something brought me back. There¡­ there was so much blood. My blood. Flowing out of my body and down into something around me. Some kind of ritual circle. One that Pearl and the monster used to bring me back.

    Instead, it brought me here.

    I carefully get to my feet and swallow hard. My mouth is minty fresh and properly hydrated¨Csomething it hasn¡¯t been since I took that Class Coin. Something glints at me from underneath the empty bedside table, and I bend down to get a better look. It¡¯s a simple silver ring, but there¡¯s a note rolled up inside of it. I fish it out and pull the ring off, stuff it into my pocket, then unroll the note.

    ¡®To whom it may concern; this place is not real. It is a sanctuary for people such as you¨Cwho were in the process of being removed from the system, but were pulled back prematurely. Think of it as a rest stop between the worlds of the living and the dead. When you finish reading this, I ask that you make the bed and set the ring you found on the pillow. That will trigger the transfer of your mind back to the world of the living. Of course, you are also free to spend as much time here as you like. Just know that time passes here at an equal rate as in the world of the living.¡¯

    ¨CSomeone who wishes to help.

    ¡°Someone who wishes to help, huh.¡± I shake my head and pull the ring out of my pocket. ¡°Not much of an explanation, but anyone who brushes my teeth for me can¡¯t be that bad of a person. Thanks for the hospitality, whoever you are.¡±

    I set the ring down on the pillow. Everything blinks out of existence. The darkness of my own eyelids blocks my eyes, and a soft weight on my chest breaths rhythmically as I adjust to reality once again.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ alive.¡± I murmur as my eyes creep open to reveal glass, glass, and more glass.

    Pearl¡¯s eyes snap open, and she stares at me for a second with wide eyes filled with emotion before the waterworks break free.

    ¡°Shelby!¡± She sobs, jumping up my body to hug my neck. ¡°We did it! The power core is ours. But so much more importantly, you¡¯re okay!¡±

    ¡°Okay might be a little too strong of a word.¡± I chuckle and brace myself for the pain as I go to sit up. Instead¡­ I just sit up. Like a normal-ass person. ¡°Oh. Um. Apparently ¡®okay¡¯ is actually the right word here. What the hell happened?¡±

    ¡°Do you mean before or after I got spat out of your inventory, thought you were dead, and saw you almost get devoured by my old friend; the scariest, but nicest, painted dane in existence?¡± Pearl laughs shakily and smushes her head even further into my neck. ¡°I¡¯m sorry again, Shelby. I¡­ I should¡¯ve made us turn back after we found the slates. We could¡¯ve gotten some protective clothes, made an actual plan, and I could¡¯ve studied the slate more to actually know what to do. Instead of¡­ what I actually did.¡±

    She sniffles¨Chard¨Cand squeezes me tight. A smile tugs at my lips as I reach to pat her on the back. It only seems to get her to cry even harder, but it means a lot to me. Most people haven¡¯t cried for me once¨Cand now she¡¯s done it twice. Well, more than twice, but two very serious times.

    ¡°I forgive you.¡± I say and gently stroke her hair. She shudders under my touch. ¡°I could¡¯ve done everything you just said, too, but I got tunnel vision. And it almost killed both of us. Speaking of; how¡¯d you unfreeze?¡±

    ¡°You saved me by sending me into your inventory.¡± Pearl says, her voice muffled by my neck. ¡°I completely shattered, but because I was contained by the system, none of me was lost. Then I just¡­ warmed up as you¡­¡±

    She swallows hard, and when she continues, her voice is even shakier than before.

    ¡°As you died, everything in your inventory burst free. When I came to I was nearly alone¨Cexcept for Illumisia¨Cand we¡­ did things to you. She¡¯s still around here, I¡¯m pretty sure. Oh, she also took those three corpses you dug out of the sand pile as payment for all the blood she gave to you.¡±

    Roaring crimson flashes in my memory. I scooch back with my lips pressed tight until my back¡¯s up against a wall, and Pearl finally lets go. She scurries onto my shoulder and snuggles into the nook of my neck. I glance over at her, then down at the glistening scars on my chest.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just the painted dane that gave me something.¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°I worked to help, too. All your electrical signals were barely sparking, and I kept them alive until she finished the ritual. Um¡­ all that stuff in your wounds is probably a lingering side effect from that. Is that¡­ okay?¡±

    I chuckle and thump my left hand on my chest¨Cright over my heart. ¡°Pearl, I¡¯m alive. I¡¯d be thanking you if I was missing two limbs and was still blind and deaf. I¨C¡± I set my jaw, then frown as my teeth don¡¯t come together the same way. ¡°Do I have different teeth now?¡±

    ¡°Yes, you do! They¡¯re like¡­ a really cool combination of your teeth and the teeth of the corpsedragger you skeletonized. We had to, um, repurpose a lot of those bones to make you¡­ alive again.¡±

    Shit, I¡¯ve got shark-wolf bones, shark-wolf blood, and I¡¯ve got a feeling I¡¯ve got some Shellraiser DNA mixed in there too. I can¡¯t help myself from grinning, and it feels like the sides of my mouth rise a little further than usual.

    ¡°That¡¯s so badass.¡±

    The still air shifts, and suddenly, something stands before me. It¡¯s the biggest painted dane I¡¯ve ever seen; easily ten feet tall and twenty feet long, and that¡¯s not counting the tail. Its body shimmers like light filtering down through the ocean, hints of every colour imaginable playing for a chance to take center stage on this magnificent creature¡¯s form. If the other painted danes were big dogs mixed with sharks, then this is a mythical wolf mixed with some prehistoric sea monster.

    Intelligent eyes look me over with clinical precision, sharp teeth bared in something reminiscent of a smile. It¨Cno, Pearl called it ¡®she¡¯¨Clicks her lips for no discernible reason, then lowers her head and gently presses her nose against my side.

    ¡°It seems freedom never comes free.¡± She says in a voice as deep as the ocean, but with an undertone of dark humour. ¡°Be grateful the alliance still stands, and be thankful Pearlescence¡¯s life is entwined with your own. If it were not, an effort would not have been made. You would not be here.¡±

    She pushes a little, causing me to shift sideways with a yelp of surprise. A little blast of air leaves her nostrils in what I swear was a laugh, and she turns around with a nod off into the distance.

    ¡°I have kept everything safe. Follow, and I will lead you there.¡±

 Chapter 27: Pointed Outward

    Now, I¡¯m not the most cautious person, but blindly following a magical shark-wolf down to who knows where is a little out of my comfort zone. At least without a whole lot more knowledge to go off of. But¡­ something tells me that I can trust her. Probably the fact that the blood surging through my veins is apparently hers¨Cor at least created with her magic.

    And that she could¡¯ve killed me at literally any point. Or just¡­ left me dead.

    ¡°Thanks, uh¡­ wolfie?¡± I try as I get to my feet, gently herding Pearl towards her shell with one hand while I push off with the other. ¡°I probably shouldn¡¯t call you that, should I?¡±

    The massive painted dane lets out a low rumble that might be a laugh. ¡°Not if your life has value to you. I am the Prismatic Megalodane. I am also called Illumisia. Call me either, but do not call me¡­ wolfie.¡±

    I swallow hard at the threat in her voice. It¡¯s noted. Very, very noted. ¡°So, Illumisia, why did you save me? Not that I don¡¯t appreciate it¨CI really like being alive¨Cbut¡­ most of the other painted danes¡­¡±

    ¡°They would not hesitate to end you.¡± Illumisia growls. ¡°That is what they have fallen to. The system robs them of their minds, gives them powers they can¡¯t handle, and lets them loose. Some of us the system can¡¯t change. Myself and Pearlescence, for instance.¡±

    ¡°I told you to just call me Pearl.¡± Pearl says.

    Illumisia looks back at us for a second, then huffs dramatically. ¡°Someone of your status deserves a bigger name. I will call you what I want until you are once again strong enough to make me do otherwise. Back to the question¨CI was and am too powerful for the system. It gives other painted danes power. I am power. You brought me a new power and put an end to a great suffering. Along with being allied to my ally, that is why you were brought back.¡±

    I really-and I mean really¨Cwant to ask about Pearl having an alliance with this monster. But the horrible memory of what happened at that console terrifies me. And this feels like the same caliber as whatever I saw Pearl do. So I swallow hard and silently try to identify Illumisia, just to have a little control over the situation.

    Entity detected: Outside of System bounds.

    Any information given will be eyewitness only.

    Cost: 12,990,233,081 Worth.

    ¡­Hundreds, thousands, millions¡­ billions. My eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at that obscene number. It¡¯s not even in the same reality as the ones I¡¯ve seen so far. A quick swipe over to my skills shows that I don¡¯t have another use of See All ready just yet, so that¡¯s definitely staying unidentified.

    ¡°Did your system tell you anything useful?¡±

    I snap my screen shut and start stammering out an apology, only to look up and see a self-satisfied smug smile stretched across Illumisia¡¯s face. It¡¯s strange how expressive she is for a literal shark-wolf, but that¡¯s definitely not the most out there thing I¡¯ve seen so far.

    ¡°Did you know it would do that?¡± I ask with a flourish of my Class Card. ¡°It told me I needed over ten billion Worth to identify you. I haven¡¯t even had two hundred Worth at one time yet.¡±

    ¡°Of course I knew.¡± Illumisia chuckles and turns back to the tunnel, then speeds up a little. Just to a light jog, but she¡¯s definitely moving faster. ¡°The system attempts to cage everything it can¡¯t control. Pearlescence is a prime example of that¨Cturned into a quest item when her species could not be altered.¡±

    Static nips at my ears. Illumisia¡¯s getting dangerously close to saying something the system¡¯s going to censor, and apparently she knows it. Because she instantly switches topics to something with barely a connection to what we were previously discussing.

    ¡°I took the depthripper corpses as payment and used most of the corpsedragger¡¯s bones to make new ones for you. Everything else you own is safely stored and protected.¡±

    ¡°Including the mechanisms and the power core!¡± Pearl chimes in happily. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you did it, but you managed to get a completely lossless transfer from the reactor to the shell. Oh, that¡¯s how Illumisia got here, too! The system¨C¡±

    ¡°Imprisoned me with my own word.¡± Illumisia cuts in with an intensity that shakes my soul. ¡°As long as the alliance holds, I can do no damage to shellraiser technology. Now that the terms have been rewritten, no such restrictions can hold me.¡±

    A ragged, panting laugh hisses out of Illumisia. It¡¯s filled to the brim with hatred and malice, but somehow, I know none of it is pointed towards me or Pearl. If anything, it¡¯s pointed directly away from us. Towards an enemy they apparently once shared.

    ¡°She was stuck in a really strong barrier. You disabled it by removing the core.¡± Pearl whispers to me, but Illumisia¡¯s ears perk up anyway. ¡°She ran right over to see what happened, and then took you all the way here.¡±

    Here. Right. Somewhere I have absolutely no idea where it is. ¡°Where are we, anyway?¡± I whisper to Pearl. ¡°It still looks the same as where we were.¡±

    ¡°Deep beneath the ocean. Protected only by glass from the crushing pressures of the depths.¡± Illumisia answers, and Pearl lets out an ¡®eep¡¯ of surprise that she was overheard. ¡°I have not seen any of your specific system-kind, but I know you have arbitrary tasks set for you.¡±

    I frown at the way she almost spits the words ¡®arbitrary tasks¡¯. ¡°You mean quests?¡±

    ¡°Yes, those. There is always a very similar first one, and so I am helping you. Were you assigned a location, a time limit, or a Worth threshold?¡±

    ¡°All three.¡±

    She whips around, stares at me intensely for a second, then goes right back to walking like nothing happened. Leaving me with a very high heartbeat and more than a little terrified.

    ¡°I see.¡± She says slowly. ¡°You are one of those. One the system wishes to fail, which is all the more reason for me to give aid. Pearlescence tells me that you have another quest¨Cone to defeat a machine she says is built for teleportation. I will help you, then you will teleport to a specific location I set into the machine.¡±

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    ¡°Whoah, that¡¯s a little fast, don¡¯t you think? I mean, thank you for saving my life, but I don¡¯t exactly want to jump into a teleporter that could be going to nowhere.¡±

    Pearl pats my temple reassuringly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Shelby. We can trust Illumisia. Plus I can always take a look into the machine before we connect the power core. I¡¯m the one with the clearance to make it go, you know.¡±

    Alright, that is a little reassuring. And if Illumisia actually knows where to find the teleporter, then I guess it¡¯s better than running around in the dark hoping to find it somehow.

    ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll go with her until she shows us the teleporter. And if she doesn¡¯t set it to go somewhere in the middle of the ocean, we¡¯ll go from there.¡±

    ¡­I¡¯m¡­ not a person that needs a whole lot of convincing, am I? I furrow my brow and consider being a little more hard headed, but, uh, huge shark-wolf. Now¡¯s not the time to strengthen my spine.

    ¡°The ocean is not the easiest way to kill someone of your strength. That is the sandshear desert.¡± Illumisia replies. ¡°Winds close to four hundred miles per hour carrying metal pounded into razor-sharp flecks that imitate sand. You would survive for seconds at most.¡±

    I shudder and shake my head. ¡°And why the hell would you tell us that?¡±

    ¡°Just to let you know that there are far deadlier things than what you expect. Trust is dangerous if used wrong. That includes trust in me.¡± She turns around and locks eyes with me. ¡°As well as trust in the system-born.¡±

    Oh. So that was directed at Pearl. I¡­ yeah, that actually makes a lot more sense. I¡¯m the unknown variable here, since the two of them seem to have at least a little history together. They trust each other for real reasons, whereas Pearl trusts me from just a few days of knowing me.

    ¡°So you don¡¯t trust me?¡± I ask.

    Illumisia thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. ¡°I trust Pearlescence. By proxy, that means I must trust you. If you hurt her for any reason and the alliance shatters, you will not survive the fallout.¡±

    ¡°Illumisia! Don¡¯t threaten our friend!¡± Pearl chastises the shark-wolf. ¡°She could¡¯ve done so many bad things to me, but she¡¯s only helped!¡±

    ¡°So far. Trusting a system-born is dangerous. They make great allies, and even greater enemies. If your ¡®quest¡¯ ends with the system-born having to kill you, are you confident that she will forsake the temptation of the system?¡± Illumisia speeds up even more, her clawed feet scraping deep gouges into the glass with every step. She turns away, and her voice grows¡­ cold. Distant. ¡°The system may not give her a choice. Her life against yours. Or her life against both her life and yours. Be aware that she will make a choice eventually. One that the system has pre-approved. If it wants you dead, it will know the exact right way to force the system-born into killing you.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ u-um¡­¡± Pearl stammers, then goes quiet. She looks up at me, then stares straight ahead. ¡°...If that happens, then it¡¯ll be really far down the line. We¡¯ll find some way to make sure the system can¡¯t do that. It¡­ it might not even be the same system we know from all those years ago. It¡¯s meant to learn and adapt, right?¡±

    Illumisia laughs bitterly. ¡°Your optimism is still intact. I truly hope it continues to remain that way. Now, system-born, you should know that your body is in perfect shape. The testing period is over.¡±

    Testing period? I cock my head to the side, then look down at the ground. It¡¯s flying by way faster than I noticed, but it feels like I¡¯m just running normally. There¡¯s no extra muscle strain, no horrific exertion, and I¡¯m not even breathing harder than usual. Hell, I¡¯m breathing about as hard as I used to when I went up the stairs.

    ¡°Did you do something to my muscles?¡± I ask cleanly and without my breathing cutting in, which is definitely not something I used to be able to do while running. ¡°I should one-hundred percent be breathing really hard by now.¡±

    The skin on Illumisia¡¯s back glimmers like light through a stained glass window. Strands of ruby fur seem to appear out of nowhere, coating her in a beautiful rustic coat that darkens the further down her body it goes. She makes a noise deep in her throat that seems to shoot directly into my brain¨Cplanting an image of insane speed that¡¯s even faster than the corpsedragger¡¯s.

    I gulp and get ready to sprint. But she doesn¡¯t zip away in a blur of red mist. Her feet all impact the ground at once, crush the glass beneath her, and push her off without any magic to help her. With just her muscles alone she accelerates to a speed that¡¯s absolutely mind boggling, shearing through the air around her as the ruby-red fur pulls in close to be more aerodynamic.

    All I can do is speed up as she inevitably gets ahead of me. ¡°How¡­ the¡­ hell¡­ can¡­ she¡­ run¡­ like¡­ that.¡± I pant as the strain finally kicks in. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ insane.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s powerful.¡± Pearl answers unhelpfully. ¡°She once told me her top speed without any magic at all was close to five hundred miles per hour, and that was a pretty long time ago. I bet she¡¯s even faster now.¡±

    ¡°Of course she is.¡± I mutter in one breath, then gulp down air as I push myself to my limits. My muscles flex and contract in perfect harmony, pushing me with instincts I¡¯m pretty sure I didn¡¯t have before to be the absolute fastest I can be. I can¡¯t tell what it is right now, but from how absurdly light on my feet I feel, it has to be pretty damn fast.

    I run at my absolute peak of exertion for a good fifteen minutes before my body tells me I need to take a break. My breaths come deep and quick, drying my mouth with every inhale and exhale, but they don¡¯t hurt. And instead of slowing to a stop, I just jog for about five minutes until my body tells me it¡¯s ready to go again. Much, much faster than I¡¯ve ever recovered before.

    With absolutely none of the lasting aches, either. I bear my teeth in a wide smile as adrenaline courses through my body while the wind whips through my hair, arms spread wide to take in every brand new sensation. A giddy laugh slips free when I¡¯m not careful, and Pearl laughs right along with me.

    ¡°It¡¯s a great feeling, isn¡¯t it?¡± She leans down in her shell and presses her hands to her cheeks. ¡°Being completely free, without any weird biology quirks keeping you down. I¡­ um¡­ promise you won¡¯t be mad?¡±

    I turn to her and smile even wider. ¡°Pearl, I¡¯m not sure I have the ability to be mad right now.¡±

    ¡°Okay, but remember that you promised.¡± She takes a deep breath before continuing. ¡°I had to rewrite a lot of your damaged genetic code.¡±

    I blink blankly, then turn to her with absolute befuddlement. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The cold from the power core¡­ it causes severe genetic damage to any flesh it damages. Which is fine for shellraisers, since we don¡¯t really have flesh, but for you¡­ it, um, kind of destroyed a lot of stuff. And I had to rewrite it, but I don¡¯t really know what your species genetics look like, so I just kind of took the best from Illumisia, forced it to work with yours, and stitched it together with¡­ me.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s what the you-coloured helixes I imagined were.¡±

    Pearl tilts her head as a frown creeps onto her face. ¡°You remember that? Does that mean you remember us taking all those bones in your ears out and repurposing corpsedragger bones into new ones? Or how we took out your eyes and replaced them with new ones made out of glass and shellraiser goo? Oh, you already know about the teeth, too, so of course you know that.¡±

    I press my fingers just under my eye. It feels a little harder than I remember. ¡°How¡¯d you make glass eyes actually work?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ think my electrical impulses work something like nerves. And those electrical things in your brain. And¡­ well, pretty much any signal your body can produce, shellraiser electrical impulses can do the same.¡± She explains, but there¡¯s definitely a lack of confidence in the delivery. ¡°I don¡¯t really know the specifics since it wasn¡¯t my area of expertise, but if I did, I would explain everything to you. Sorry.¡±

    Those words from when I was apparently between life and death seem a whole lot more real now. I glance down at the floor, then slowly trail my vision up to the ceiling. Everything¡¯s so much clearer than before. The air is more fragrant¨Cwhich isn¡¯t necessarily a positive¨Cand every sound is blatantly obvious. I can even make out the difference between each of Illumisia¡¯s claws raking through the glass, but it¡¯s not overwhelming. It¡¯s completely natural.

    Combine that with the lack of strain, my obviously increased endurance, and whatever other benefits this transplant must¡¯ve had on me? Plus the fact that I¡¯d be dead without it? Pearl doesn¡¯t have anything at all to apologize for.

 Chapter 28: Approaching the Next

    Illumisia cracks open an eye as I jog to a stop near the edge of her vision. Two hours of a cycle of running and jogging have led me here¨Cand here barely looks any different than the tunnels before. There¡¯s a smaller cleared area in the glass, like a dome keeping the sand from crushing us, and it¡¯s completely covered in claw marks. The ground, the ceiling, and the sloped walls that connect the two are just barely roughed up for¡­ some reason.

    ¡°What did the glass ever do to you?¡± I ask as my jog turns into a walk, and I slowly close the gap between us. ¡°Or is there some grand secret about it that I haven¡¯t been made aware of?¡±

    ¡°Nothing so grand. I was simply letting loose some of the pent up frustration that was built up over all the years.¡± Illumisia stands and shakes herself, then plods off towards one of the four tunnels that connect to the clearing. ¡°You took to the blood and bones well. Pearlescence¡¯s intervention was more necessary than I thought.¡±

    ¡°Definitely.¡± I agree and hurry slightly to walk beside her. She gives me the side-eye, but doesn¡¯t do anything about it. ¡°So¡­ you¡¯re almost the same size as these tunnels. Does that get annoying?¡±

    Instead of answering me, Illumisia¡¯s fur shifts from red to creamy white. It¡¯s a far more matted coat than before¨Clike a sheep that hasn¡¯t been shorn in a long time. Before I can ask about the transformation, she shrinks down to the size of a timber wolf and shakes the fur off her body, leaving her strange prismatic shark skin bare to the world.

    ¡°You can change size.¡±

    Illumisia rolls her eyes. ¡°How observant. My normal size is far too large to be practical most times, but the further I stray from it, the less of my raw power I have access to. That goes both for becoming smaller or larger.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why she likes being so big.¡± Pearl chimes in. ¡°It¡¯s closer to how big she¡¯d actually be if she wasn¡¯t stuffed up in our tunnels. I¡¯ve seen her at full size before¨Cshe was almost as big as one of our ships!¡±

    If it¡¯s a shellraiser ship, that probably isn¡¯t super impressive. But I nod anyway just to be polite. Pearl puffs out her chest and looks like she¡¯s about to continue, but Illumisia interrupts her with a high-pitched whine that makes Pearl snap her mouth shut.

    ¡°The censorship. Thanks for reminding me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t enjoy protecting your Shelby, but you don¡¯t have the¡­ sense for these things that I do.¡± Illumisia carefully says. ¡°Maybe I should accompany you through the teleport to ensure that the world isn¡¯t against both of you.¡±

    ¡°Ooh, we¡¯d love that!¡± Pearl excitedly exclaims. ¡°Shelby really needs to make a thousand Worth, and I kind of put her in debt, but with you here we won¡¯t need to worry about that! Since you can kill all the monsters for us!¡±

    Illumisia and I share a short look before she realizes and diverts her gaze like it never happened. She really doesn¡¯t seem to like me, and it looks like she really didn¡¯t like that we both thought of a similar problem with Pearl¡¯s solution.

    ¡°If your Shelby does not kill the monster, she cannot sell it. Even if I fatally wound it and let her get the kill, I will be given credit.¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    I clear my throat to get Pearl¡¯s attention. ¡°Remember in the workshop, how we couldn¡¯t take anything out that we didn¡¯t own?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but how does that¡­ooooh.¡± Pearl nods her head in understanding. ¡°You need possession of something to put it in your inventory, and the system won¡¯t let you sell stolen goods. I get it now. But¡­ it¡¯ll still be really good to have her around as a friend, if nothing more.¡±

    More like a nuclear bomb in my back pocket if that Worth cost is anything to go by.

    ¡°How much further is it, Illumisia?¡±

    ¡°Minutes.¡± She responds curtly. ¡°I also have something I need to show you. It was not among your things, but I feel that it is yours.¡±

    That¡¯s needlessly cryptic. I reach down to scratch my arm, then frown as I realize that the coin holster isn¡¯t there any more. It¡¯s probably among my things, but that means Illumisia took it off me somehow. So it probably isn¡¯t in the best shape anymore.

    ¡°What do you think she has?¡± Pearl asks. ¡°I don¡¯t remember losing anything, so maybe she dug up a bunch of ghost quarters for us! Or¡­ maybe she took whatever machine was generating her barrier for us to use. Ooh, what about¨C¡±

    Illumisia chuckles deep and low. I tilt my head to the side as I try to parse all the emotions that come through that one simple noise; adoration, amusement, and something like¡­ relief? Probably because Pearl¡¯s safe, but that means they have a much closer relationship than I thought. Or that alliance is extremely important.

    Pearl keeps listing off less and less reasonable options as Illumisia and I walk and listen. She bumps into my leg and nods for me to switch sides with her so Pearl is between both of us, then starts moving before I get a chance to respond at all. I step awkwardly over her to keep from being knocked over by a horrifically dense mass of strength and magic, which seems to bring her a whole lot of delight.

    There isn¡¯t even a second of pause in Pearl¡¯s stream of consciousness while we swap. I stick my hands in my pockets when Illumisia slows down to a saunter, then pull out my Class Card to see if my new improvements have translated to stat bonuses.

    Before I even open the screen, there¡¯s something new. Everything¡¯s slightly rearranged itself, making space for a slightly changed symbol right next to my name. It¡¯s a nautilus shell coloured like Pearl¡¯s body, with a ring of prismatic colour around it that looks like it¡¯s been painted on. Triangles point inwards from the ring like teeth, just barely not touching the shell, and somehow giving off a sensation of ruthless protection. Like a wildlife sanctuary stocked with alligators.

    All of my stats are still the same, which is a little disappointing, but I¡¯ve already seen the differences. Even if my stats don¡¯t reflect it, I¡¯ve definitely become more powerful. Before I can take a closer look Illumisia pops into my field of view. She snorts at my surprise, then pushes her head through my screen. It parts for her without a fight.

    ¡°We are here.¡± She states. ¡°Come. Gather your things, then rest. We depart at tomorrow¡¯s first light.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow?¡± I frown and gently push Illumisia away. It feels like trying to push a mountain with my bare hands, but she moves anyway. ¡°We¡­ I can¡¯t keep pushing things to¨C¡±

    She shoots me a withering glare that freezes the blood in my veins. ¡°Tomorrow. You know so little, which is pitifully normal for a system born these days. I will tell you as much as I can without alerting the system.¡±

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Can¡¯t we do that on the road?¡±

    Illumisia huffs and shakes her head. ¡°When we go, we run. No talking, no thinking¨Cjust instinct. You will need instinct to survive with a weak class like yours.¡±

    I¡¯m about to say something back, but the words ¡®weak class¡¯ latch onto my brain like burrs. My legs don¡¯t hurt in the slightest, but they sting when I remember how easily I would¡¯ve lost to the mass grave if it wasn¡¯t stuck over that hole. Or how the corpsedragger would¡¯ve taken my throat out if Pearl wasn¡¯t there to warn me. Even still, I want to argue with her. Tell her that Gambler isn¡¯t weak.

    But a little voice in the back of my mind reminds me that my class has done next to nothing for me. It¡¯s doubled the strength of my spells, and that¡¯s it. Who¡¯s to say that any other class with mana doesn¡¯t get stronger spells from the get-go? Or what about a class that¡¯s focused on Body? Do they get superhuman strength from their spells and skills?

    Illumisia snorts at my silence. ¡°I do not want to admit it, but you are admirable. What you have done could be done so much easier with any other class. You alone are the reason you have survived this long, even if you do not realize it.¡±

    She gestures with a tilt of her head at a shifting ocean blue barrier off in the corner. ¡°Gather your things, then follow me into the clearing. I have procured a source of water and sand. Bring your curiosity and intelligence.¡±

    Bring my¡­ okay, that¡¯s a new one. I watch as Illumisia walks over to the other side of the much smaller clearing, presses her nose against one of the walls, then simply walks through the glass.

    My eyes widen, and I point dumbly at the wall that just devoured Illumisia.

    ¡°Pearl. Was that always a thing?¡±

    She shakes her head wordlessly. Her expression perfectly paints how I¡¯m feeling right about now¨Cstunned and a little worried that we might¡¯ve missed a bunch of things. I let myself gawk for a few seconds more, then shake my head and go to gather all my things. They¡¯re scattered randomly about the barrier in a spray of splinters, but it doesn¡¯t look like anything¡¯s broken.

    I lean down and pull open my backpack, then nod when everything looks just like I remember. Sure it¡¯s a little frost damaged, and with some scuff marks from being pulled, but that¡¯s damn good for what happened to it. Then I send everything into my inventory one by one, pull a relatively undamaged coin holster onto my arm, and pause as I study the power core.

    ¡°All that pain, just for this.¡± I mutter as I hold the thing at arms¡¯ length. It¡¯s about as cold as a can that¡¯s been in the fridge for weeks. ¡°How can this little shell be better at containing the core than that entire apparatus?¡±

    ¡°Maaaagic.¡± Pearl waggles her fingers for emphasis, then giggles. ¡°Well, it¡¯s more like we refilled the magic. The other one degraded over time, and even though it still worked really well, the containment part didn¡¯t survive. They designed this shell to be a perfect containment thing, but it also has a really low effective range.¡±

    I spin it in one hand, then send it to my inventory. ¡°You mean I can¡¯t hook up a bunch of pipes to it and power an entire workshop?¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°Exactly. The shell changes the power output to a frequency that¡¯s harmless to living things, but because of that, it has really horrible losses over long distances. It¡¯ll work if you touch it to an engine, but not if you hooked wires up to it and touched those wires to the engine.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the semi-expert.¡± I say with a shrug, then bend down to grab the last thing on the ground. It¡¯s a chunk of sapphire shaped like a shield, but with a strange connector on top that looks like you could put a stick¡­ in¡­ it. Wait. This can¡¯t be the thing, right? We have to be a¡­ a hundred miles away from where I started.

    I rise to my feet and look around the bubble. It takes less than a second for me to be certain that the wood isn¡¯t everdriftwood, and a few seconds more to pinpoint a dented metal hoop with space for a handle lying near the edge of the bubble. The image of a sapphire shovel atop walls of sand shoves its way to the forefront of my memories, but I still can¡¯t make out what kind of materials the handle was made of.

    Before I can even second guess myself the sapphire spade starts to glow a light orange. Cutting away any doubts I had and replacing them with complete confusion. I flip the spade in my hands a few times in disbelief, then sigh and stick it under my arm as I pull out my Class Card again.

    Pearl furrows her brow as she stares at the space. ¡°Is that the same shovel you told me about? How¡¯d it manage to follow us all the way here? And how¡¯d Illumisia of all people get her hands¨Cum, I mean paws¨Con it?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one thing we¡¯re going to have to ask her.¡± I open my class card, swipe over to my inventory, and quickly swap something out for the shovel¡¯s head. ¡°Let¡¯s see what the system has to say about this thing.¡±

    Spade of the Sapphire Sun: Head.

    One-third of the Spade of the Sapphire Sun¨Can item that is extremely valuable to a select few Classes.

    In this form, it can shape whatever pliable ground it is put into.

    When completed and wielded by a proper Class, this item¡¯s true power is revealed.

    So that¡¯s how I didn¡¯t get teleported in my sleep; this thing made the sand walls and turned the sand under me into a solid mass. But that doesn¡¯t explain why¨Cor how¨Cit managed to find its way here. Did it use its power to burrow through the sand until it finally found a way in? And.. how¡¯d it do any of that without someone to wield it? Why did it even come to me in the first place, when I¡¯m pretty damn sure I¡¯m not one of the classes that¡¯s meant to wield it?

    I let the questions stew, hoping that some answers would come to me. But they don¡¯t. None of it makes logical sense, and any leaps of logic I¡¯d have to make rely way too much on random chances and coincidences. With a sigh and a shake of my head, I let it go and swipe away from the screen.

    Quest: Sapphire Sunset.

    ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

    ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

    ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

    ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

    ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

    ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

    As long as you possess the Spade, you may accept this quest at any time.

    No. No, no, no. I am not accepting a quest that¡¯s all question marks and censorship. Even if there was a super strict time limit, I wouldn¡¯t touch this one with a ten-foot pole. Not even a hundred-foot pole. Hell, I wouldn¡¯t even tell someone else to touch it for me if I was in another continent.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of question marks.¡± Pearl¡¯s voice is filled with awe, but tinged with fear. ¡°There could be a whole lot of horrible things hidden behind them. Only a crazy person would accept that. ¡­You didn¡¯t accept it, right?¡±

    I vigorously shake my head and take the spade out of my inventory. ¡°No way in hell am I doing anything with that many question marks. But I will be keeping this thing. Would¡¯ve saved me a bunch of skeleton coins back at that frozen pile of sand.¡±

    With the spade tucked away into my backpack and my equipment restored to their rightful places, I make my way over to the stretch of wall Illumisia walked through. Which still looks like a plain glass wall to me. I reach out and brush my fingers against it, and sure enough, it also feels like a plain glass wall. But something in my blood pushes me forward. It insists that there¡¯s something behind this, even when my rational mind is struggling with what I saw Illumisia do.

    I set my jaw and slam my hand against the wall. It reverberates through my bones for a split second, then slowly parts. I push through with just that blood feeling alone, forcing my body through what my brain insists is a solid wall. Sweat starts to bead on my forehead. My heart pounds in my chest as my face is overtaken by solid glass.

    Everything disappears. I yelp in surprise and stumble forwards, catching myself before I¡¯ve even taken two steps. Illumisia chuckles at my surprise from atop a foot-thick bed of hole-filled sand on the other side of a pool of extremely dark water.

    ¡°Do not pout. Your reaction was simply¡­ amusing.¡± She says with a smile full of teeth. ¡°Come. Let me fill your mind with knowledge the system may not want you to have.¡±

 Chapter 29: What Fate Isnt

    I look around the room, slowly raising an eyebrow at Illumisia scraping a claw against the glass. A line of molten orange follows, then bursts into flames. She repeats this three more times, creating a star of lines that emanates warmth and magic.

    Before she has a chance to tell me not to come over, I sit just within range of the fire¡¯s warmth and set my backpack on the ground. She watches as I take out my water bottle, fill it with the dark waters of the pool, and set it right next to me. Pearl scurries down my shoulder and sits a little closer to the fire, then splays out and¡­ melts into a smiling puddle of goo.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could do that.¡±

    She burbles a relaxed sigh. ¡°It wasn¡¯t safe enough to really relax yet. Now it is. You and Illumisia make friends while I take a nap, okay?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at her, then look over to Illumisia. ¡°Whatever you say, Pearl.¡±

    ¡°Yes. We will try our absolute best.¡± Illumisia smiles, her words dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Worry not¨Cyour Shelby will be alive when you wake.¡±

    ¡°She better be. Goodnight.¡± Pearl yawns, then even her face melts into the puddle, leaving no features behind. Leaving me alone with Illumisia¨Cwhose intensity skyrockets the moment we¡¯re alone.

    ¡°You need to learn how to enslave the system. It is an arduous task, and one that I have only seen mastered by a very small handful. If you cannot do this, the system will use you to its own ends.¡± She shifts on her bed of sand, making just enough room for one human to sit beside her. ¡°Come. Pearlescence is attached to you, both in the literal and emotional sense, and from her explanations it seems undeserved. I am terrified the system has put those attachments in her mind.¡±

    Now that¡¯s a scary thought.

    ¡°I never even thought about that, but I guess it¡¯s possible.¡± I grunt as I stand up, but pause before I walk over to her. She tilts her head in question as I bend down to grab the spade from my backpack, then stuff it under my arm and walk right over to her. ¡°So what do you want to know? It seems like she told you everything already, but if you feel like there are any holes in the story, I¡¯ll fill them in as best as I can.¡±

    Illumisia watches me sit down, her animalistic face completely unreadable. Her eyes look me up and down, then shift and lock onto Pearl.

    ¡°No. If she is untouched, then I trust her judgment. And if she has been altered, it is no fault of your own. But if you ever free her from the system¡¯s clutches and she no longer wants anything to do with you, you will let her leave. You will not attempt to stop her, convince her, or follow her.¡±

    I frown and lean back as I stick a finger into one of the holes in the sand. ¡°And what if she wants to stay with me? Does she get the freedom to choose if the result isn¡¯t something you like?¡±

    ¡°Watch your tongue, system-born.¡± Illumisia growls. ¡°Do not make this out to be a personal grudge. You¨Cand all of your ilk¨Care a symptom of a much greater disease. One that Pearlescence and I fought for years. One that is not so easily abandoned due to a minor setback. She¡­ she¡­¡±

    Illumisia turns slightly, her expression softening as she watches the puddle that is Pearl rise and fall with rhythmic breathing. She seems to reconsider what she was about to say, then sighs dramatically and curls up as far away from me as possible while still remaining on the sand.

    ¡°She was always like this. A realist in the best of times, an optimist in the worst, and prone to snap decisions. Which led to many moments of glory and an equal amount of panic.¡± Illumisia shakes her head and chuckles fondly. ¡°Any further explanation would trigger the system¡¯s censorship, but I hope you can make an inference from that little information. So I will change the subject¨Cyour Class is Gambler. Pearl informed me that it has primary attributes of Fate and Worth. Is this correct?¡±

    I''m still trying to parse what Illumisia was trying to get at, but I nod anyway. ¡°Mmhm. Fate and Worth, and apparently a really crappy class according to you. Are you finally going to tell me why?¡±

    ¡°Because it is a Worth Class. One given out by the system only because it is required to have a combination of each possible attribute and significantly hampered for those exact reasons.¡± Illumisia shuffles around and glares at my coin holster. ¡°Not all Worth-attributed classes have access to mana, they must work for Stat gains that all other classes gain instantly, and their starting equipment is of significantly lower quality compared to a non-Worth class.¡±

    The information hits me like a runaway truck. I reach for a coin to flick nervously through my knuckles, but nothing comes. Because I wasn¡¯t reaching for a ghost quarter, or even some Worth¨Call I could think about was the Class Coin and the charred corpse it appeared with.

    ¡°I see you understand the ramifications of your class better than I had hoped. Good. It shows you have the potential to survive. Now, what stats were you assigned when you first appeared in our world?¡±

    I swallow hard.

    ¡°One of everything except Fate, which I got two of. And twenty-five Worth. And a backpack of supplies. And¡­ when I got attacked, the system let me buy a spell tutorial that gave me two basic spells. Oh, and I had six inventory slots. ¡­Or was it eight? I think it was eight, but it might¡¯ve been six.¡±

    Illumisia frowns. ¡°Is that really all?¡±

    I laugh uncomfortably and shove my hands in my pockets. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be sarcastic. I know it sounds like a lot, but if you¡¯re saying¨C¡±

    She cuts me off with a shake of her head. ¡°No. That is so much less than I remember a non-Worth class beginning with. Combine that with the fact that your stat bonuses don¡¯t apply the moment you gain the stat and it is a miracle you managed to survive. ¡­No, I must rephrase that. You only survived due to the specific ecology of the seasky shores. Which means the system did not have a say in where you appeared.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean ¡®so much less¡¯?¡±

    ¡°I could offer you a complex explanation. Or I could simply list off what the last non-Worth class I encountered was given when he gained his class. He was a Glistener¨Ca class with primary attributes in Body, Soul, and Fate. He was given fifteen inventory spaces, two weapons for variable ranges, enough food and water to survive for two weeks, clothes woven with magical fibers to keep him warm and safe, a rechargeable trinket that functioned as a magical shield, two spells and three skills, a magical map that marked any locations his quests mentioned, and a grand total of fourty-five Worth.¡±

    My frown deepens with every single thing Illumisia lists. She stops to take a breath, and I try to get a word in, but she bulldozes through with even more information.

    ¡°He appeared in a highly populated location¨CPalastia¨Cwhere he was given quests that properly readied him for the dangers being a system-born poses. Palastia is the capital of an entire country carved out for the sole purpose of educating these new system-born, allowing them to grow stronger in peace and relative safety. Obviously that is not here.¡±

    I snort and cross my arms. ¡°Obviously. So what, I got teleported to a completely random place, and it just so happened to be somewhere that let me survive? But¡­ I had some protection from the system to begin with. If it wanted me dead, why would it give me that?¡±

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    ¡°Are you referring to the grace period?¡± Illumisia asks, but doesn¡¯t wait for my answer. ¡°That is not something the system has control over¨Cit is a function of the world itself the system takes credit for.¡±

    Oh. I guess the system really didn¡¯t care if I died. Actually, if what Illumisia¡¯s telling me is true, then it probably would¡¯ve preferred if I croaked before I got anywhere.

    ¡°Is that why I don¡¯t have anywhere to sell my things?¡± I mutter to myself in thought. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t matter where I went, or even if I managed to survive, if I can¡¯t make that thousand Worth it wants me to. And there¡¯s the whole ¡®get to an unspecified place¡¯ thing, which probably isn¡¯t even on this continent if you¡¯re right.¡±

    I turn back to Illumisia with a frown deeply etched onto my face. ¡°What about the cost of getting a stat point? Is that a lot cheaper for everyone else?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°That is a cost standardized to the stat itself, not your class.¡±

    ¡°Okay. At least that¡¯s not blatantly screwing me over. What about the quests? Is the system giving me those, or are they just cataloging them?¡±

    ¡°Cataloging. Though it can twist the wording of the quest to blur its true form.¡±

    I nod. ¡°I can work with that. What about Fate? Is that independent?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it is very, very independent.¡± Illumisia snickers and bears her teeth. ¡°Fate existed long before the system tried to quantify it. In the old way, Fate was quite simply defined as the path that existence decided to take. The most likely path was Fated to be, but nowhere near a set outcome. Those with greater ties to Fate could both see these Fated paths as well as pull the less likely outcomes into reality. Your Fate stat is a passive quantification of reality diverging from your Fated path.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think I got any of that.¡± I admit with a sigh and lean back on my palms. ¡°I think it¡¯s almost like being the opposite of a prophesied chosen one, kind of?¡±

    ¡°You are closer to the truth than you realize.¡± Illumisia traces her claw through the sand to draw a perfectly straight line. She finishes a dozen inches from where she started, then goes back and adds countless other branching paths onto the line. Once she finishes, she traces once more along the main line¨Cthickening it compared to the branches. ¡°This line is the Fated path. It is what will happen if nothing is challenged, and what is happening as we speak. It is difficult to know when the Fated path changes, as whatever we are living becomes the Fated path. And then what was once the Fated path ceases to exist. It is why prophecies are pointless, and why those in power desperately try to limit the number of variables that could change their desired path.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± I say when Illumisia looks to me.

    Obviously I¡¯m not doing a good job of selling my understanding, since she sighs theatrically and makes a show of wiping away her branching paths. Then she starts over with one single line.

    ¡°This line is the Fated path. For Pearlescence and myself, that fate was to be locked away in our respective prisons. It was to continue forevermore, as the likelihood of anything changing was so minuscule that it was not even measurable.¡± She says slowly and clearly, then flicks a claw through the sand. A much deeper line now veers off to the right from the Fated path. ¡°Then you came along. The moment you freed Pearlescence, the Fated path was changed. But I was still trapped. That Fated path only changed when you made the choices you did.¡±

    She swipes through the sand again, and the Fated path now points in another completely different direction.

    ¡°To some system-born, Fate seems to be something they have difficulty accepting. They see it as an unchanging future¨Cwhat will come to pass, no matter anyone¡¯s actions. But that is simply not the truth. Fate is ever changing, ever fluid, and ever cruel. Those with no possibilities do not even know it, and those who choose a path that leads to their own ends make it with no knowledge of where it will take them. For you system-born, the Fate stat is a symbol of your possibilities. It offers you tangible choices, highlights moments of importance, and increases the power of your most reality-bending skills.¡±

    I finally nod in understanding. And this time, when Illumisia looks like she has more to say, she simply wipes away the Fated path and opens the floor for me to say something. I gather my thoughts for a good few seconds, but she doesn¡¯t seem impatient. If anything, she looks curious at what I¡¯m going to present. What I¡¯ve gathered from her explanation.

    I breathe calmly and sit up straight. ¡°It¡¯s like reality is a really long hallway. If I keep walking straight, it¡¯ll take me wherever I¡¯m ¡®meant¡¯ to go. But if I have a high Fate stat, doors start to appear. I don¡¯t know where they¡¯re going to take me, but I also don¡¯t know where I¡¯m ¡®meant¡¯ to go. And when I open one of those doors, all there is is another long hallway. With even more doors.¡±

    Confidence creeps into me as I speak, and something in me tells me that I¡¯m on the right track. It seems to vibrate through my entire being, like some massive monster purring in content on my chest. It¡¯s not Illumisia, that¡¯s for sure¨Cshe¡¯s sitting there listening with absolutely no emotion on her face. The feeling fades instantly, whatever it was, and I¡¯m stuck with reality once more.

    ¡°Once I open a door it reveals another long hallway. And that hallway becomes the Fated path.¡± I continue, leaning slightly forward and lacing my fingers together in my lap. ¡°But the door closes behind me so I can¡¯t go back to the other path, but I also don¡¯t know what this new one will be. From your explanation you never know what¡¯s at the end of the Fated path, and¡­ huh. I guess you wouldn¡¯t even know when you opened a door. But¡­ I can see Fate somehow. In orange auras around things that¡­ that¡­¡±

    I frown once again and lean forward even harder. ¡°Are the auras telling me I¡¯m going through a door, or are they leading me down the Fated hallway?¡±

    Illumisia lets out a loud grunt. I startle at the noise, then snap to see begrudging acknowledgement written plainly on her face. Well, as plainly as it can be on a shark-wolf.

    ¡°And there you have understanding. Fate is not simple. It is not complex. It merely is, and trying to understand it leads to nothing but confusion. All you can do is acknowledge how it functions and act in ways that you think most benefit you and yours.¡±

    The sapphire spade glimmers under my thigh. I reach down and trace my fingers along it, then raise it into the firelight. Illumisia watches me with an unreadable expression, as if trying to get information out of my reaction to it. Just like I¡¯m trying to do to her.

    I break first. And I¡¯m pretty sure it isn¡¯t even close. ¡°How did you get this?¡±

    ¡°It fell.¡± She says easily. ¡°The sands spat it out and it finished the task you started.¡±

    ¡°What task¡­ wait, do you mean the whole ¡®freeing you¡¯ thing?¡± I stab the spade into the sand, then force a thought into it. All at once, the ghost quarters trapped within rise to the surface.

    Illumisia grunts, then shifts as all the ghost quarters under her slide free. ¡°Yes. Your cutting off the power supply started to diminish the barrier I was trapped in, but it was nowhere near quick enough. That shovel crashed through the sands¨Cand glass¨Cabove my prison and destroyed the device.¡±

    I flick the spade with one finger as I pull my mouth into a thin line. If the shovel hadn¡¯t destroyed the device imprisoning Illumisia, would she have gotten to me in time?

    ¡°How quickly was the barrier disintegrating?¡±

    She thinks for a second before answering. ¡°If it kept at the pace it was going, it would have taken close to three hours before I could slip through a hole without damaging the barrier.¡±

    Three hours. That¡¯s definitely enough time for me to die. Which probably would¡¯ve meant Pearl¡¯s death, too. Or maybe not. Maybe Illumisia would¡¯ve found her sprawled out around my body, and she wouldn¡¯t have the annoying system-born to deal with. Hell, maybe she regrets saving me.

    I glance over at her and quickly decide that¡¯s not a question I want to ask. But there¡¯s one thing that bothers me¨Cone thing that bubbles up from the bottom of my stomach and screams at me about the conversation we just had.

    If I¡¯d somehow managed to take the shovel the first time it appeared, I¡¯d be dead right now. My Fate stat would¡¯ve effectively killed me. That puts the orange glow into a new light. Pun intended.

    ¡°My Fate stat could¡¯ve killed me.¡± My voice shakes as I speak, and I can¡¯t tear my eyes from Pearl. ¡°If I raise that stat a lot higher, how much danger am I going to inadvertently put myself in?¡±

    Illumisia shrugs as well as a shark-wolf can. ¡°If the Fated path leads to death, Fate can save you. If it leads to prosperity and happiness, Fate can damn you. It is unrestrained possibility. So you must ask yourself this; would you rather be blind to your own future or shape it with your own two hands¨Ceven if it means your suffering is your own doing?¡±

    Even though I know she meant it metaphorically, I can¡¯t help but look down at my hands. Just a few days ago they were the soft hands of a future office worker, hardened only by short-lived stints of hobbies. Now they¡¯re stained with dirt, lined with little cuts and sores that are in a constant state of sort-of-healed, and tipped with pointed nails that look a little too much like teeth for my liking. Even my fingertips are scarred from Illumisia¡¯s healing, jagged lines through my fingerprints separating them into the before and the after.

    My own two hands, huh.

 Chapter 30: My Own Two Hands

    Illumisia and I sit by the fire for a little while. Neither of us talk. I busy my hands with gathering the ghost quarters and my eyes with checking my Class Card for anything that I might¡¯ve missed. No matter how hard I look there isn¡¯t anything else to see. And eventually, there¡¯s nothing else to do but try to talk with the shark-wolf.

    ¡°So were those all of the secrets you can tell me?¡± I ask as I dust off my hands and put away my class card. ¡°Because there are a bunch of holes that don¡¯t make sense to me.¡±

    She looks over at me and nods. ¡°Yes, there were. Which ones are bothering you in particular?¡±

    ¡°Mostly the entire reason why the system doesn¡¯t like Worth classes. If it made me weaker on purpose and sent me to a completely random place to die, then¡­ why? Wouldn¡¯t the other classes be a much bigger danger to them? I mean, why Worth, and not Fate?¡±

    ¡°There are very simple reasons for that, but I can¡¯t give you the context due to censorship. What I can tell you is that your class skills¨Cthose that directly manipulate Worth¨Care wholly unique. If a class does not start with one, they cannot ever gain one. So there is only ever a grand total of seventeen Worth manipulating skills in existence.¡±

    ¡°Seventeen? How¡¯d you get that number?¡±

    Illumisia lifts her paws to reveal tally marks in the sand. ¡°There must always be at least one of each class in existence. And a ¡®class¡¯ is determined by which stats they have as primary attributes. With the five stats, while always needing to have Worth as one of the primary attributes, there are seventeen total possible combinations.¡±

    So that means there¡¯s only one of each Worth class in existence? I already know about Gamber and Merchant, which means there¡¯s only fifteen other classes like me. But¡­ Illumisia didn¡¯t talk about the non-Worth classes like that.

    ¡°Are the non-Worth classes limited too?¡±

    She sneers with a deep growl. ¡°Only by the system¡¯s willingness to create more Class Coins. As long as one person holds a class, their coin disappears when they die. But if they were the last of their class, the coin follows their corpse back to wherever they came from. Which is where I assume you found yours.¡±

    I nod in confirmation and think back to that disintegrating corpse. ¡°So only the Worth classes get passed on like this, and all the others just¡­ keep getting made. For as long as the system wants them. And it doesn¡¯t want anyone with¡­ Worth increasing skills out there. Because we could completely screw up whatever it¡¯s trying to build here by helping other people out.¡±

    ¡°No. Your skills have¡­ limitations when used on other people.¡± Illumisia says carefully, as if every word out of her mouth could potentially be censored. ¡°If you haven¡¯t run into them yet, you will. The reason is¡­ how do I explain this without censorship¡­¡±

    Frustration boils off Illumisia like heat off a furnace. I don¡¯t quite understand why she¡¯s so annoyed with this¨Cif anything, I should be the one pissed that the system is forcing me to level up a stat to be able to hear things. But for some reason, she seems to see it as a personal attack.

    ¡°The system knows that if a Worth class survives, they are a danger to it.¡± She eventually says as carefully as a linebacker in a china shop. ¡°They tend to question it more readily, act against what it desires more often, and have used its powers against it.¡±

    ¡°That sounds dangerously like a grudge.¡±

    Illumisia nods in agreement. ¡°It does, doesn¡¯t it? Now imagine what I can¡¯t say¨Cwhat made it carry ____ ______.¡±

    Even though her last words were censored, I know exactly what she was about to say. And it¡¯s¡­ worrying. I thought the system was an uncaring mass of magic and rules¨Cbut anything that can carry a grudge has to have emotions. Or it has to be manipulated by something that does.

    ¡°I can work with that. I have no idea what I¡¯ll do with it, but just knowing that is helpful. So, is this it? The limit of what you can tell me thanks to my tiny Mind stat?¡±

    ¡°Not quite, but it does not easily segway into any other topics I would touch on. Instead, I wish to test your resolve.¡± Illumisia rises from her bed, hops the pool of water in a lazy jump, and turns back with an annoyed look when I don¡¯t instantly follow her. ¡°You still need to get used to your newly improved body. Your muscles are stronger, your mind sharper, and everything else similarly enhanced. Pearlescence and I rewrote you to eventually become the pinnacle of our three species. It will not come if you do not put in the effort.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t ask to be rewritten.¡± I counter as I push myself to my feet and slide the spade over to my backpack. ¡°Not that I¡¯m not thankful for it, I mean. Just that¡­ I¡¯m not exactly the pinnacle of humanity, you know?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I am well aware.¡± Illumisia says without a hint of humor or mocking. Just deadly seriousness as she slips through the glass, and I follow right behind. ¡°From the look of your insides, your species has not yet mastered anything that could take away your genetic weaknesses. For Pearlescence, her species writes their own genetic code and creates forms with it. For me, I ripped away my weakness and supplanted it with only the best parts from all my fellows.¡±

    I crack my knuckles as Illumisia leads me to the center of the small clearing. ¡°Just you? Not your species?¡±

    She snorts out a quick laugh and turns to fully face me. ¡°You¡¯ve seen the others of my species. They were weak enough to be taken by the system, and even with the system¡¯s aid, they are still weak. In an attempt to make them overpower me, the system instead furthered my ascension.¡±

    ¡°Your ascension, huh? Is that why you can talk and the others can''t?¡±

    ¡°A very simplified version of history, but yes. I grew to the absolute pinnacle of power and my pack turned on me when I tried to do the same for them. So I sought out a different pack not made of my own kind, and among that pack I found Pearlescence. I wonder how all the others are faring without us.¡± She licks her lips, and I could swear there¡¯s a little bit of worry in her eye. ¡°But that is a story for another time. We will start with dodging. I will be using the same ability as the corpsedragger to create magical projections that will charge at you. Every thirty seconds I will create another, and you will keep going until one of them lands a hit that you did not in some way block or deflect. Do you understand?¡±

    I swallow hard, but I don¡¯t nod just yet. ¡°Do I get to use my spells for this?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Clear as day. Alright.¡± I shake out my hands and focus on Illumisia. ¡°Are they going to be as fast as the corpsedragger?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but they will begin their casts from within visible distance. It will be possible to dodge.¡±

    I try to think up more questions, but the patience on Illumisia¡¯s face is starting to wear thin. And I really don¡¯t want her being pissed when she¡¯s throwing spells at me. So I finally nod and tense myself in a preliminary dodge.

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    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

    Magic bubbles up from Illumisia¡¯s coat. It shifts to deep red once more, then starts to slowly rise from her head all the way up to the tips of her ears. She flicks her snout upwards once, almost like she was warning me, and the mana coalesces right between her eyes.

    ¡°I should hope that you are.¡±

    A red mana projection leaps free; a nearly perfect mirror of Illumisia¡¯s current form bubbling with a frankly absurd amount of magical power. It shakes itself once, locks eyes with me, and bears its teeth in a throaty growl. One that feels really¡­ personal.

    It flashes red for a split second. Memories of the corpsedragger jolt my body to action, and I pretty much twitch out of the way of its almost-teleportation. Jaws fly by right next to my neck, opened wide to tear the life from me. I clench my jaw tightly as I force myself to keep my arms at my side, spin fully out of the way, and watch the projection dig its claws into the ground to stop itself.

    ¡°Do not hesitate!¡± Illumisia chides from over my shoulder.

    I grimace and dodge to the side as the projection charges again. ¡°I¡¯m not hesitating! You told me I can¡¯t use my spells, so I¡¯m not using my spells!¡±

    She makes a low, frustrated noise deep in her throat. ¡°I am testing you to ensure your body has taken to the repairs and improvements we made. Do not belittle our efforts by claiming you need to rely on spells.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± I gesture at the projection as it flies by me. ¡°You want me to punch this? I can barely¨Coop¨Cdodge it.¡±

    I step out of the way without even looking at the projection, then pause as it swivels around and seems to¡­ smirk? Just like the expression that¡¯s slowly seeping into Illumisia¡¯s face. The edges of my vision darken ever so slightly, and somehow, I¡¯m just¡­ aware.

    ¡°Yes, of course, you are having such troubles. Is it difficult dodging without putting any effort into it? Does it get your tired little muscles into tightly-wound bunches?¡± Her words drip with sarcasm. ¡°If belittling yourself isn¡¯t quite your style, then why don¡¯t you try putting your newly empowered flesh to the test?¡±

    The projection lowers itself to its stomach as she speaks, then launches at me to punctuate her sentence. I see its mouth open wide. The magic whirls around it, supplying it with enough power that the only way it¡¯s disappearing is if she calls it off. My body starts to dodge without a single input. Forcing myself to stand my ground takes a little effort, but the worst of it is the sinking feeling that Illumisia¡¯s doing this to justify getting rid of me. A training accident gone wrong. Pearl might believe that.

    I raise my leg and slam my foot into the projection¡¯s nose. A shockwave rumbles up my body, and the impact pushes me back a few inches, but I hold my ground. I grind my teeth and slam the projection¡¯s mouth closed with a stomp, then stick my hands in my pocket and pivot to crush its neck with my other foot. I¡¯m fully expecting it to roll out of the way, or buck me off, or any of a huge variety of ways to screw me over.

    Instead, my heel crashes through the magic like powdery snow. It bursts into motes of red power that hang in the air for a split second, then fall to the ground like a rain of blood. I stare at the stuff in confusion as it settles on the ground before it trickles towards Illumisia.

    ¡°Why are your hands in your pockets?¡±

    I blink at the address, then sharpen my focus as I see another projection forming over her ears. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just put them there.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t do that.¡± She says harshly. ¡°Your hands, teeth, elbows, feet, and knees are your people¡¯s natural weapons. I could put your skulls in that mix, but that is just as likely to give you brain damage as it is to win you a fight. Use all of your weapons, natural and magical, so that they do not dull.¡±

    Another projection slides away from her like a shadow. I gesture at it with a closed fist ¡°A lot less theatrical this time, huh? What, you want me to bite this one to death?¡±

    It was meant to be a sarcastic comment, but Illumisia bears her teeth in what comes across as deadly agreement.

    ¡°That sounds like a wonderful way to end your training. Once you¡¯ve used every natural weapon I listed for you to defeat one of my projections you will get a break. Until then, you must stay on your toes. True predators would not be having this conversation with you, and so ours is now done.¡±

    Yet another projection bleeds out of her. I frown at the blatant disregard for her own thirty second rule, then pull my hands out of my pockets. The bracer weights slightly against my arm, almost begging for me to use the coins slotted into it. But I know that the second I try to use it Illumisia will use more magic herself. Even if I¡¯m surviving the projections well enough right now, I definitely won¡¯t be able to handle projections plus barriers plus whatever other tricks she hasn¡¯t shown me yet.

    The first projection slinks away to the other side of the clearing. The second stands its ground, as if waiting for the first to get in place, then charges out of the blue. I hold my ground until the last second, try to turn on my heel, and slam my fist into the thing¡¯s side. It ripples like a pond struck by a stone, but lands easily and turns to look at me with confusion.

    The second slams into my back before I can move. I feel its teeth graze my skin, but they don¡¯t go any further than that. Instead, it pushes me to the ground and sits on me with a gurgling ¡®humph¡¯. The first joins it a second later, pinning my legs and leaving only my arms free to move.

    I groan and try to pull myself free as Illumisia¡¯s claws click against the glass. She walks right up to me, looks down at me with those expressive eyes of hers, and makes the most quizzical expression I¡¯ve ever seen.

    ¡°That was quite possibly the worst thrown punch I have ever seen. You didn¡¯t follow through, you didn¡¯t use your body weight to put more force behind it, and still you somehow managed to leave yourself embarrassingly open. It¡¯s almost impressive in how much of a complete failure it was.¡±

    ¡°Well, sorry that I¡¯ve never punched anyone before.¡± I grunt as the projections shift, then plop down on me in a slightly different way. Now they¡¯re both lying across me like living stitches to keep me down. ¡°I didn¡¯t live anywhere that made me need to learn martial arts.¡±

    Illumisia widens her eyes at that. ¡°Really? What happens if you are attacked at random? Do all your people carry weapons around¨Cand are they properly trained in how to use them?¡±

    ¡°A good chunk of them have guns, and no. Definitely not.¡± I force myself to roll over with a grunt, but all that does is shift where the pressure is. ¡°The apocalypse is kind of contained, and I wasn¡¯t old enough for all the panic when it happened, so I just¡­ live normally. Which means I never learned how to beat someone to death.¡±

    ¡°How sad. It is quite a useful and cathartic skill, even if you never need to take another life. So when you stomped my projection¡¯s neck, that was simply due to the knowledge that the neck is a weak point?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡±

    ¡°And you had no training to stomp¨Cyou just let gravity and your muscles do the work?¡±

    I nod slightly. ¡°Pretty much, yeah. There¡¯s a reason we don¡¯t let people stomp each other in professional sports; it¡¯s pretty damn deadly, and takes almost no skill. Only reason I say almost is because I watched some guy break his foot when he stomped with his toes first instead of the heel. And he was just trying to squish a wasp, not crush something¡¯s neck.¡±

    ¡°Then you will need to learn that as well.¡± Illumisia waves one paw through the air, dispelling the projections in a burst of red mist. ¡°It will be strange trying to teach a biped to fight, but the basics should be similar. Come, now. I¡¯ll show you how to properly follow-through an attack in a way that doesn¡¯t lead you wide-open to a counter.¡±

    She walks away, leaving me to get up on my own. Projections trail out of her as I steadily rise to my feet, but each of these is different. There are blatant pink zones marked on different parts of each of them, ranging from the neck to the legs to the tip of the snout. I chuckle nervously to myself as more and more of these things spill free from the shark-wolf, any potential rest I might¡¯ve gotten growing smaller and smaller as they do.

    ¡°Am I going to get any sleep tonight?¡±

    Illumisia turns when she reaches the other side of the clearing. ¡°You have a potion for that, do you not?¡±

    I sigh and tilt my neck to both sides to get the kinks out. ¡°Remind me to throw that one away after this.¡±

    ¡°I have a recipe for a better version of it memorized.¡± She says with a toothy smirk. ¡°Your free time is not safe from me, system-born.¡±

 Chapter 31: Lighting A Path

    A swig of bottled sleep, a deep draw of meal replacement, and it¡¯s all washed down with filtered water. Repeat that every six hours for almost two days, and then finally get the begrudging approval of the shark-wolf that¡¯s been training you all that time. That¡¯s how my life¡¯s been going for the last forty-eight hours. The time limit still hangs over my head like an executioner¡¯s axe, but Illumisia insists that she¡¯ll be able to send me to the right place.

    Pearl, who decided to join us about twelve hours into this whole ordeal, is firmly on the side of her old friend. But she¡¯s also firmly on my side at the same time, which creates a really weird dynamic when I argue with Illumisia; she constantly justifies both of our sides, leading to us sort of agreeing that we¡¯re both right and wrong at the same time? I can¡¯t really describe the vibe that it gives off, but we somehow end up moving on every time with no lingering hard feelings.

    Sure, Illumisia might make sure I get a few hits to the stomach afterwards. And I mean, I did make sure she had to work much harder for everything that should¡¯ve been easy, but there definitely weren¡¯t any hard feelings. So when I finally gathered all my stuff, bruises and tiny cuts and teeth marks reminding me of just what I¡¯d gone through, I definitely didn¡¯t have fantasies of trapping Illumisia in a shield and getting Pearl to take responsibility for it. Nope. Definitely not.

    I heft my backpack onto my shoulders after I pull out the knife and personal amplifier, strap the knife to my thigh and hang the amplifier over and around my chest like a beauty queen¡¯s ribbon, and sigh in not-exhaustion. There¡¯s not much time left until the deadline, but that time limit¡¯s the least of my worries. It¡¯s the Worth that I really need.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Pearl whispers into my ear now that we¡¯re out of Illumisia¡¯s earshot. ¡°Not many people can keep up with Illumisia, even when she¡¯s super weakened like this, and she went particularly hard on you. Should we take a break before we move?¡±

    I pat the knife on my thigh and shake my head. ¡°The bottled sleep does way too good of a job. Besides, I actually feel¡­ pretty good. Not great, by any stretch of the imagination, but I think I feel better than before I came here.¡±

    Pearl frowns deeply and crosses her arms. ¡°Do you mean before you started training, or before you came to this world as a whole?¡±

    ¡°This world as a whole. My brain¡¯s not fuzzy, my muscles only hurt because I¡¯ve been using them, and I can breathe right.¡± I adjust the coin holster on my forearm, then trade out two skeletons for regular ghost quarters. ¡°Whatever you and Illumisia did to me, it made me a whole lot healthier than before. Hell, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if all my allergies were gone.¡±

    ¡°Allergies? What are those?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re something you¡¯re¡­ allergic to.¡± I say slowly as I realize I don¡¯t really know how to explain an allergy. ¡°Like, when you eat something, it can make your throat swell up. Or if there¡¯s too much pollen outside, it makes your nose run like crazy and your eyes itchy and burny.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like it sucks.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°That¡¯s one hell of an understatement, Pearl. Especially for people who¡¯re allergic to, like, penicillin or peanuts.¡±

    Illumisia bumps into my hip as I slip out of the hidden room. ¡°You left nothing behind?¡±

    ¡°Just the sand and the scratches.¡± I confirm. ¡°So, if I was a complete failure a few days ago, how would you rate me now? Barely passable?¡±

    ¡°Barely¨C¡± Illumisia starts, then narrows her eyes. Pearl giggles, and doesn¡¯t stop when Illumisia¡¯s glare turns to her. ¡°Yes. That. I am confident you won¡¯t die easily if you run out of Worth as long as the enemy is within your clearance range. Now take out your power core and beacon.¡±

    We need the beacon to find the machine? This is news to me. When did Illumisia learn about the beacon, any¡­ right, Pearl. I keep eye contact with the shark-wolf as I pull open my Class Card, withdraw the power core, and swipe over to my quests. Where I stare at the beacon¡¯s description, along with the shovel¡¯s, completely clueless as to how I¡¯m supposed to pull it out.

    ¡­Probably shouldn¡¯t have deposited the shovel, now that I think of it.

    ¡°Well? What is causing a delay?¡± Illumisia asks as she walks around me and jumps up on her hind legs, planting her forelegs on my shoulders, to get a look at my screen. ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t know how to remove a quest item from your inventory. It works much like withdrawing a regular item, but you need to reference the quest itself instead of the item¡¯s name.¡±

    That¡¯s good to know and all, but I¡¯ve got exactly no idea what quest the beacon is a part of. And¡­ why is Pearl in my actual inventory instead of this one, if she¡¯s a quest item too? Is it because she¡¯s half-out of my inventory and half-in at the same time? Or is she different somehow? It seems like she¡¯s given me more than her item description says, that¡¯s for sure. Like when she overwrote the requirements for my system upgrade¡­ manual¡­

    That¡¯s it. I know exactly one shellraiser-related quest. Maybe it¡¯ll be the same one I¡¯m already working on. ¡­Problem is, I don¡¯t really remember what it was called. I know it was in the upgrade manual, and the completion of it was one of the requirements for using it, which probably means it wouldn¡¯t actually be the quest I¡¯m working on.

    ¡°Shit. But I guess it¡¯s still worth trying.¡± I mutter and swipe over to the info tab, then stare at the cover of the book that¡¯s been integrated into my system. ¡°Pearl, what was the quest called that showed up when I upgraded my system?¡±

    She purses her lips and taps a finger against her chin. ¡°The one that I bypassed?¡±

    ¡°Yup, that¡¯s the one.¡±

    ¡°I think it was¡­ something of shattered shells. Another ¡®S¡¯ word, for sure, but I can¡¯t remember exactly what it was. Showdown, maybe? Ooor¡­ sanctity? Illumisia, do you know?¡±

    We both look over my shoulder at the shark-wolf. She just shrugs. ¡°How would I know what the system calls a specific quest that obviously hasn¡¯t been completed before?¡±

    ¡°Hey, you know a lot of other random stuff, so it¡¯s not that much of a stretch.¡± I say as I swipe back to the quests tab. ¡°Let¡¯s try Saga first, since that was the name of the book.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    I reach my hand toward the beacon. Nothing. So I just start going over every half-impressive ¡®S¡¯ word I can come up with. All the way from salute to syzygy, but definitely not in alphabetical order. I¡¯m not that much of a word freak. At some point Pearl loses interest and starts up a conversation with Illumisia, both of whom decide that my shoulders are the best place to talk loudly over someone who¡¯s trying to focus.

    Soliloquy, savior, second, scratches, servitude, sundown, sunrise, serenade¨C

    My interface flashes once, and the oystershell beacon appears in my hands. It feels delicate and powerful, but I know better.

    ¡°Which word worked?¡± Pearl asks, her conversation with Illumisia completely forgotten. ¡°Was it shoreline?¡±

    I shift the beacon in my hands to look at the bottom of it, then reorient it again. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it was serenade. Serenade of Shattered Shells.¡±

    Illumisia snorts. ¡°That sounds like the kind of pompous mockery the system would assign. Set the beacon on the ground and touch it to the power supply. Pearlescence, you can take it from there.¡±

    Pearl nods as I kneel down and set the beacon on the ground, then roll the power core over to it. When it¡¯s an inch away from the beacon it snaps to it like an extremely strong magnet, and the surface of the shells starts to glow. It¡¯s barely colourless at first, but slowly and surely, tiny droplets of water begin to form on the surface of the shell. I almost reach out to wipe one away, but a memory of the beacon nearly mummifying my arm cuts that desire out of the picture.

    ¡°What¡¯s it doing?¡± I ask as Pearl runs down my arm to stand next to the power core. ¡°Don¡¯t we need water for it to make water?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s plenty of water in the air, silly.¡± Pearl giggles. ¡°And a whole lot of other stuff, too, but that¡¯s floating away instead of condensing. We just need to configure this marvelous piece of work into a compass, follow it to the teleporter, then Illumisia can send us where we need to go.¡±

    I snort and wipe off my thighs as I stand up straight. ¡°Easy peasy. Is all that info in the blueprint?¡±

    She nods. ¡°It is.¡±

    Oh. Alright, then.

    ¡°All I have to do is get under here¡­¡± Pearl squeaks as she condenses her body into a thin disc and slides under the beacon. ¡°Then I can switch the input to a general machine identification code, set it to look for the closest example of that thing¡­ and there we go!¡±

    She slides back out and springs up while dusting off her hands. The beacon¡¯s glow fades out to nothing for a second, but is quickly replaced by a green glowing bar that points off into the distance. Not a hologram, no¨Cthat¡¯d be too convenient. It¡¯s more like a stripe painted onto the surface of the shell itself. One shell, to be specific¨Cnone of the others so much as glimmer.

    ¡°Does that mean it¡¯s working?¡± I pick up the beacon and spin it around. The line stays pointing in the exact same direction, traveling over each of the different shells in turn. ¡°Nevermind, it¡¯s actually pointing the way we need to go. So how do we know if it¡¯s above or below us?¡±

    ¡°The colour of the arrows. Red means it''s below us and purple means it''s above us. Anything between them is just varying degrees of close to us.¡± Pearl waves for my arm, and I bend down to give her a way back to my shoulder. ¡°Green pretty much means it''s on the same level as us. Which is nice.¡±

    ¡°Really nice.¡± I agree and turn to face where the line points. Which is directly into a wall. ¡°Uh, what if the tunnels don¡¯t align with where we need to go?¡±

    ¡°Then we explore until we find one that does.¡± Illumisia says as she walks towards the tunnel closest to where we apparently need to go. ¡°We¡¯re going to be jogging for ten minutes, system-born, with a two minute long jog afterwards. Then we will repeat that cycle.¡±

    ¡°Until we find a tunnel that works?¡±

    ¡°Until we find the machine.¡±

    I nod and cradle the beacon in my arms, adjusting it until I find a fairly comfortable way to hold it that won¡¯t screw up my running. Pearl reaches down and helps a little, stabilizing it against my body¡¯s movements as I try to find the best way to do this. Eventually I settle on a football carry that Pearl can constantly watch for line changes.

    ¡°Prepared?¡± Illumisia asks as she breaks into a jog.

    ¡°All good.¡± I confirm and speed up to match her pace. ¡°Pearl, you¡¯re on line duty. Tell us every little change, okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡± She points off into the distance and strikes a pose. ¡°Let¡¯s get that malicious malfunctioning mechanical monstrosity!¡±

    <hr>

    The line doesn¡¯t change for almost seven hours. And Illumisia doesn¡¯t let us slow down to less than a leisurely jog, which makes eating and drinking all the more difficult. But after the first few times, I get used to it. Probably because my ¡®eating¡¯ consists of barely chewing a very thick drink¨Cif I had to stuff a sandwich in my face, or even an energy bar, I¡¯d definitely have to stop.

    Only for, like, three minutes. But no, apparently that¡¯s too long of a break. Not like it¡¯s less than a hundredth of the total time we¡¯ve been running. And I mean, who cares that my legs are starting to look like a long-distance cyclist¡¯s? It¡¯s definitely not going to hurt like hell when we finally stop, and it definitely isn¡¯t burning like hell right now.

    Definitely not.

    I keep my grumblings to myself, but make it just loud enough that Illumisia can overhear. Even if she likes hearing me be miserable, I want her to know that she¡¯s the reason I¡¯m miserable. It doesn¡¯t make a lot of sense, sure, but it feels like something I have to do. Or else the misery will stay inside me and bubble up later. Probably at Illumisia again, but whatever.

    Just as I¡¯m about to say something scathing under my breath, Pearl¡¯s hand taps against my sweaty face.

    ¡°It changed.¡± She says loud enough for all of us to hear. The first time she spoke in seven hours. ¡°It¡¯s yellower now, and it¡¯s pointing a little more to the left. Look for a new tunnel to go down.¡±

    Illumisia growls confirmation. ¡°Understood. Keep a lookout for more new changes.¡±

    Pearl nods and goes right back to concentrated silence. I crane my neck a little to see what the beacon¡¯s reporting, and sure enough, the line is very slightly yellow. And pointing off to the left, which is a little weird thanks to how I¡¯m holding it. But Pearl¡¯s obviously reading it just fine, so I leave it to her and go right back to running.

    Deep black lines my awareness. I unconsciously run my tongue over my teeth, then lick my lips as thick black outlines of vaguely animalistic things fade into the edge of my mind. They don¡¯t feel like any painted dane I¡¯ve seen, and from how they¡¯re lazily moving about, they don¡¯t feel threatened by us at all.

    ¡°Do you feel that?¡± I ask, to which Illumisia just nods. Her fur has taken on a very slight steel grey tint, so that must be the colour of her awareness. ¡°Are they enemies?¡±

    She closes her mouth, then growls through her teeth. ¡°Always assume an unknown is an enemy and prepare accordingly. If they are an ally, or at the very least a neutral party, you should be skilled enough to alter your assault before you kill them. Do you trust that you¡¯re skilled enough for this now?¡±

    I want to say yes. I want to prove myself. But the reality is that I don¡¯t know. If I approach without the intent to attack, then one hundred percent yes. My shields will keep me safe, and I can launch a projectile with barely a thought. That¡¯s not the case at all for if she wants me to attack first, and divert when I can see clearly. I don¡¯t have that kind of control over my spells yet.

    Reluctantly, I form the words I know I have to say. ¡°No. I don¡¯t have the skills or the tools for that right now.¡±

    ¡°Then you lose the advantage, but not the battle.¡± Illumisia says seriously. ¡°Ready yourself. This will be your first real trial with your improved flesh.¡±

 Chapter 32: Shellbound Machines

    My focus shifts to my coins as my legs bring me ever closer. The skeletal ghost quarters shiver and pulse like they¡¯re straining on the edge of breaking, while the regular ones sit like concrete pillars against my arm. I flex my fingers and toss the beacon to Illumisia, who snaps it out of the air with her teeth. If I hadn¡¯t been on the receiving end of a whole ton of bites that didn¡¯t even break the skin, I might be worried about her breaking it.

    Instead, the thought barely crosses my mind. I fill two of the regular ghost quarters with projectiles, then connect thin strings of consciousness to two skeletons. Dark awareness clings to them like long strands of boiling tar, and I can feel them fade away to the back of my mind. Still there, but not center stage.

    It¡¯s a really strange sensation splitting my focus this many ways, but it feels weirdly natural. Almost like how I¡¯m always controlling every part of my body at once, now I can somehow add other things to that web of unconscious awareness. There¡¯s not a doubt in my mind that it¡¯s thanks to Pearl¡¯s portion of the rewriting that went down, but from how she¡¯s reacting to what I¡¯m doing, it doesn¡¯t seem like she meant for it to happen.

    ¡°How did you do that!?¡± She asks excitedly and smacks my cheek with a tiny open palm. ¡°That¡¯s a shellraiser thing! I¡¯m not even giving you awareness right¨Coh my gosh, I must¡¯ve somehow given you the ability to do this! Wow. I didn¡¯t know I could do that.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow without taking my eyes off the ever-approaching smears. ¡°You didn¡¯t know what you were doing when you raised me from the dead?¡±

    Peal vigorously shakes her head. ¡°Oh, gosh, no. I¡¯ve never done anything like that before. To someone who wasn¡¯t a shellraiser, I mean¨CI helped a lot of kids solidify their electrical connections and make goo for themselves. Shellraiser kids, obviously.¡±

    ¡°Obviously.¡± I repeat with a chuckle. ¡°So yeah, I can use the awareness on my own now. And a little more in addition to it. What happens if you give me awareness now?¡±

    ¡°I have no clue! But probably either something really cool, or really weird and painful for both of us. Or nothing! Nothing¡¯s always an option.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope for cool or nothing, then. But not now. Is it better to try it when we¡¯re completely safe, or only risk it when we¡¯re in real danger?¡±

    ¡°Dunno.¡±

    I roll my eyes and blink as the awareness shunts information into my brain. The things are shifting around now, and they¡¯re all pointed in my direction. If that isn¡¯t a sign that they¡¯ve noticed me, then I don¡¯t know what is. But I still can¡¯t get a real look at them, which hopefully means they haven¡¯t gotten a good look at me.

    Electricity crackles in the air. White-yellow coalesces on one of the blobs in the distance, and snaps of static sound out in an orchestra of charged particles. I flick one hand up and throw up a movable shield, consuming a skeletal quarter which my bracer instantly refills from my inventory.

    But I¡¯m a little faster than I remember. So the shield, which I¡¯d set to move at my maximum sprinting speed from before the change, actually slows me down when I run headfirst into it. I screw my face into an expression of disbelief, then slam my palm into the shield to force it to speed up. It surges forward as a torrent of electricity slams into it, arcing all over it in a blinding burst of light and sound.

    I raise a hand to protect my eyes, then grimace and look away as it becomes too much to even slightly look at. The lightshow lasts for maybe five seconds in total, but it leaves behind arcing bolts of electricity that dance over my shield like slinkies down a set of MC Escher stairs.

    Pearl peeks out from behind her hands and sets her mouth in a thin line. ¡°That¡¯s shellraiser technology, all right. And from how it hasn¡¯t even cracked your shield, it must be set to capture instead of kill. Um, that doesn¡¯t mean you can just get hit by it, in case you were wondering.¡±

    ¡°No, I was not wondering.¡± I crack my knuckles as I jog behind the moving shield. The sound¡¯s a hell of a lot louder than before. ¡°Not in the slightest. Your awareness range still beats mine by a shit ton, so do you have a bead on what these things are? Beside shellraiser tech.¡±

    ¡°Nope. They don¡¯t look like any of our tech¨Call rubber and metal and thin wires¨Cbut they¡¯re definitely using our weapons.¡± She leans a little closer to the still distant things and narrows her eyes. ¡°They¡¯ve even got some good optical cloaking tech on them. If I was weaker, I wouldn¡¯t even be able to make them out.¡±

    ¡°Then why¡¯d you wait to tell me?¡± I ask. And get silence as my answer. ¡°Pearl? You alright?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m just trying to find an explanation that doesn¡¯t make me look like an idiot.¡± She says sheepishly. ¡°I kind of though that since Ilumisia said this was your test, that I couldn¡¯t help at all. But I¡¯m a part of your powerset for the foreseeable future, so it¡¯d actually be a worse test if I didn¡¯t help you. And by the time I reasoned that out, you kind of already shielded an electrical burst.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. That is a dumb reason.¡±

    Pearl huffs and pinches my earlobe. ¡°Jerk. Do you want my help or not?¡±

    ¡°Definitely want the help, thank you. So, what¡¯ve you got? Any obvious weak points, or am I running towards a trio of armored weapons with nothing but my bare hands?¡±

    She nods, and her levity bleeds into seriousness. ¡°They¡¯re all about the size of the corpsedragger, but they don¡¯t have obvious heads. Each of the bodies is a turtle shell of hexagonal metal plates and rubber between them, and when the one in the middle attacked you, it retracted a plate to do it. So all the weaponry and important circuitry command stuff is stored inside the shell.¡±

    ¡°How about legs? They got anything I can tip over?¡±

    She squints, then shakes her head. ¡°I take back the turtle shell comparison¨Cthey¡¯re like two turtle shells pressed together on the bottoms to make a big oval. The bottom one has a hexagon open and looks like it¡¯s spraying something on the ground to levitate, but I can¡¯t make out if it¡¯s regular air, water, or some kind of magic. And¡­ it¡¯s going for another attack. I¡¯d put up another shield just in case.¡±

    Another skeleton shatters, and another shield pops up between me and the first one at Pearl¡¯s recommendation. The flash of electricity comes a second later to my awareness, but before it¡¯s even fired, I can tell there¡¯s something different about it. This one has the same white-yellow as before, but there are arcs of deep red in there as well.

    ¡°If that was capture mode, is this kill mode?¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°Wait a second and we¡¯ll see. But my bet would be on kill.¡±

    I¡¯ll take that for about as close to confirmation as possible. I slow down a little and make sure I¡¯m properly positioned behind my shields, then cover my eyes as the blast rips free of the thing. It¡¯s a little slower than the first one, with red shot through the yellow-white in short, visceral slashes. They entwine more and more until they finally hit my shield.

    One second the electricity is mixed, both in the blast and on my shield, and the next it¡¯s all one uniform shade of violently electric red. It hangs on my shield for a split second, condenses down to a sphere the size of an orange, and chunks of magic start to fly. The attack rips through my shield with merciless efficiency in moments.

    It takes all of a breath for my shield to shatter completely. It leaves my mind like an item violently crossed off a checklist, and I reattach threads of awareness to two more skeletal coins in a burst of unease and¡­ frustration. No fear, though.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s a combination attack.¡± I say with far more confidence than I expect. ¡°The first one traps you, and the one after it springs the trap.¡±

    ¡°I completely agree.¡± Pearl says, but there¡¯s hesitance in her voice. So I keep silent to let her think. ¡°But if the follow-up had some trap in it, then why did it even bother with the trap in the first place? It wasn¡¯t that much slower than the first one.¡±

    I nod. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a little weird. Maybe the kill only triggers if there¡¯s enough electricity on someone, and it¡¯s more than one blast can deliver?¡±

    ¡°That could be it. Honestly, it doesn¡¯t really matter. Just dodge them and we¡¯ll be fine.¡± Pearl smiles and makes a biting motion with her hands. ¡°The corpsedragger was faster, and your body¡¯s a whole lot better than it was then. This¡¯ll be easy peasy.¡±

    ¡°Hope you¡¯re right.¡± I say with a hint of a smile.

    Glass blurs by as I speed up to get close enough to actually see the monsters, sidestepping half-assed electrical blasts all the way there. The things are exactly how Pearl described them¨Call steel and rubber, with a few wires poking out through missing hexagonal plates. Glassy lenses glint from all of their sides, making it look like they can see all directions at the same time¨Cincluding above and below them. Except¡­ well¡­

    They¡¯re boring. Like the kind of shit you¡¯d see on a low-budget sci-fi that thinks ¡®faceless robots with blinky lights¡¯ equals scary. These just look like bland hexagonal plates mashed together without any care for aesthetics or practical use. The fact that the weapons are hidden inside of them, and have to be revealed through sliding plates¡­ it¡¯s just screaming ¡®terminal malfunction¡¯.

    The one that fired electricity at me flashes yellow lights. The one on its left¨Ca little bigger and chunkier than the middle one¨Cresponds with a cascading whir of panels that shift open to expose uneven chunks of bright pink stones clanking about inside of glass spheres. An electric current surges through the spheres, arcing bolts of lighting connecting them together as the chunks dissolve into a slurry.

    ¡°Oh, come on! That¡¯s a complete waste of electricity and technology!¡± Pearl exclaims. ¡°Just make the crystals liquid in the first place! Then you can use it as a fluid and send it to whatever part you want instead of wasting it on a bunch of baubles!¡±

    Weird thing to get annoyed over, but I mean, I can kind of get it. This is her thing, apparently.

    ¡°What¡¯s the fluid for?¡±

    Pearl crosses her arms and huffs in annoyance. ¡°Making shields. It¡¯s made from precious stones and a very specific coral extract from the deep seafloor, then condensed into a solid at room temperature. All they¡¯d have to do is cool it a little and it¡¯ll be a liquid. So much easier to work with.¡±

    ¡°Shields, huh. How strong are they?¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t even matter. The liquid¡¯s not cold enough to make them. Just throw projectiles at them until they explode.¡±

    Okay, that might¡¯ve been the plan, but now that she¡¯s said it¡­ it sounds a little shortsighted. Especially if these things are, like, a little platoon of robots. The shooter retreats behind the shielder as pink slowly starts to condense in the air around it, and the last one lines up behind the shooter. It hasn¡¯t done anything yet, but its lights are glowing ever so slightly green. A green that spreads to the other two, slightly tinting their own colours.

    ¡°Pearl, can you see if there¡¯s an open panel on the one in the back?¡±

    She¡¯s reluctant for a second, but gives in with a sigh. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s got a little device sticking out of it that¡¯s like a really weak version of a communication array. It¡¯s probably giving commands to the other two, since the programming and construction is so shoddy that they couldn¡¯t fit complex computation and a simple weapon into the same shell.

    I laugh and shake my head as I kick a shield closer to the robots. This one¡¯s made to move on my touch, not on its own. Learned that lesson already.

    ¡°Yeesh, Pearl, you really hate these things. Are they even worth taking for scrap?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She states flatly. ¡°They deserve to be obliterated. Whoever made them bastardized all of our hard work, painstaking research, rigorous testing, and constant upgrades. Almost like they¡¯re laughing at me for trying so hard to make something¡­ good.¡±

    That¡¯s about the loudest ¡®destroy the robots¡¯ I¡¯ve ever heard. I tighten my right hand into a fist, then shift and ram my shield with my left shoulder. It surges forward, cutting through the air and creating a slipstream for me to follow. I didn¡¯t mean to do that, but apparently the spell adjusted itself from my want alone.

    It shears through the gathering pink like tissue paper. I slightly open gaps between my index, middle, and ring finger to be filled with ghost quarters. Projectiles fill the coins with a simple thought, each assigned a spell to be as immobile and destructive as possible. Might as well completely obliterate them if they¡¯re not worth anything, right?

    Electricity crackles on the end of the shooter¡¯s ¡®gun¡¯, which looks more like a lightning rod with a hole in the middle. I step back from my shield so I don¡¯t get electrocuted and wait for it to fire, then shield my eyes and jump out from behind it immediately after the flash. Two quick flicks send projectile-filled coins spinning into open cavities on the shooter and the signaler, which detonate into violent maelstroms with a little less than a thought. The awareness¨Cmy awareness¨Creally helps with this stuff.

    I step back as roiling magic obliterates the robots, scattering metal and rubber to litter the ground and walls with chunks of scrap varying in size from small to minuscule. Some of them let out zaps of electricity when they land, but I pay them no attention. The shielder turns to me and tries to put up another shield, but the thing¡¯s pink particles start forming behind me. Putting me firmly inside of the only thing that could protect it.

    ¡°Alright, I think I understand now.¡± I sigh as I flick another projectile into the shielder. ¡°These things suck.¡±

    It detonates, completely eviscerating the last of the three robots. I expect Pearl to be satisfied with the destruction, but her expression barely changes after the initial half-grin when the projectile tears it apart.

    ¡°Yeah, they really suck.¡± She agrees as Illumisia joins us in a flicker of red. ¡°But they suck with our tech. That means someone got their hands on our secrets, but not on someone who actually knows how to use them.¡±

    ¡°Could mean someone gave them shit secrets.¡± I offer as Illumisia passes me the beacon, then starts jogging once again. I take off after her a heartbeat later. ¡°Like corporate sabotage.¡±

    Pearl considers that for a good long moment before nodding. ¡°I guess that could be what happened. But it¡¯s not mech science with these things. It¡¯s simple magic circuitry supplemented by electricity, and they couldn¡¯t even figure out the best way to use a really simple barrier fluid. That¡¯s not just sabotage¨Cit¡¯s complete incompetence.¡±

    ¡°Hey, if it means we don¡¯t have to fight full-power shellraiser robots, I¡¯m all for incompetent enemies.¡±

    The look on Pearl¡¯s face says she doesn¡¯t agree. Hell, it says she wished they were competently made for reasons that are lost on me. But before I can get another word in, she leans down and returns to her post as beacon reader.

    ¡°It¡¯s moving a little to the left still.¡± She relays as I fall in with Illumisia. ¡°Either there¡¯s going to be a tunnel in about five miles, or we¡¯re going to have to find a detour.¡±

    Illumisia licks her lips in anticipation. ¡°Understood, Pearlescence. And you, system-born. Did destroying those shoddy machines give you progress towards anything?¡±

    ¡°Highly doubt it, but I guess there¡¯s no problem looking.¡±

    I open my Class Card and take a quick glance over everything, but nothing looks out of place. No notifications, no new items, and no¡­ wait. What the hell is this? How¡¯d my debt go down to two-hundred and forty-one Worth? I don¡¯t remember earning anything at all. And the only other time I got Worth directly deposited into my interface was when I killed the mass grave.

    ¡­When parts of it were completely unusable for me, and the system compensated me instead.

    Hope spreads through my chest like blossoming warmth. I swipe over to my stats, and sure enough, my Worth has gone up. Only by nine, but it''s more than its gone up in days. After applying the reduction from the debt, that means I earned a total of eighteen Worth. Six per robot.

    I need to earn four-hundred total Worth to get to my next threshold, three-hundred of which will come from completing the teleporter destroying quest. So I just need to get a hundred Worth from these things.

    ¡°Seventeen total.¡± I mutter to myself with a growing grin. ¡°Minus the three I already destroyed, that leaves fourteen to go. That¡¯s completely doable.¡±

    Illumisia tilts her head to the side. ¡°Does that mean the robots provided you something worthwhile?¡±

    ¡°Oh, definitely.¡± I confirm as my Pearl-enhanced awareness alerts me to more things far in the distance. Many, many more things. Ghost quarters appear between each of my fingers as I clench them in anticipation. ¡°Leave all this to us.¡±

 Chapter 33: Making a Dent

    Scrap litters the ground in my wake. Projectiles swallow up bot after bot in massive bolts of magical power, leaving behind arcs of electricity that were¨Chilariously¨Cmeant to stop me. Pearl sneers at each and every one of the bots, smirking as they get destroyed, but never actually showing joy in the act.

    Dozens and dozens of the useless robots fall. Liquid pink splatters against the walls as the last shielder dies brutally, leaving the last shooter and signaler without a single line of defence. I bend down and grab the signaler in two open holes, stuff a skeletal quarter into it, and shove it at the shooter. Projectile erupts from within, demolishing the last two bots with brutal efficiency.

    Illumisia turns up her nose as she steps over the scrap. ¡°That was quite brutal. Well done.¡±

    I dust off my bloody hands with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll do anything to survive. Hope this proves it to you.¡±

    ¡°That is the bare minimum for all living things. With that said¡­¡± Illumisia looks over her shoulder and laughs darkly. ¡°Your desire to survive looks very much like an atrocity in the waiting.¡±

    I frown and follow her gaze. What I see gives me pause; nearly a mile of completely scrapped robots and multicoloured fluids. Electricity zips and zaps here and there, reminding me that I didn¡¯t completely destroy a few of them, but the picture the scene paints doesn¡¯t feel like something I did. Sure, I¡¯m down to twenty of each ghost quarter, but¡­ I couldn¡¯t have done all of this, right?

    ¡°They were too easy to destroy. Nothing like something we¡¯d make.¡± Pearl huffs with a small, satisfied grin. It disappears almost instantly. ¡°After we get out of here, we need to find whoever is appropriating our technology and kill them.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and finally look down at my hands. None of the machines had blood, so all this has to be mine. It leaks from deep gouges that must¡¯ve been cut when I grabbed some of the robots, smaller cuts that are way too clean, and a massive rip right through the middle of my left palm.

    I clench my fists closed and take a deep breath. ¡°Maybe killing someone for misusing your tech is going a little too far. How about we serve them a cease and desist instead?¡±

    ¡°Right. Because that¡¯ll get the message across.¡± Pearl rolls her eyes, then lightly smacks my temple. ¡°I don¡¯t know how things work back on Earth, but if someone does something horrible to you here, you can¡¯t let them off with a warning. Because they¡¯ll come back with magic and kill you in your sleep.¡±

    Well that sounds a little steep, too. I look to Illumisia for confirmation, then roll my eyes and look away as she nods vigorously in agreement. No idea why I thought she¡¯d be on the side of reason.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see what they deserve when we find them, okay? I¨C¡±

    Quest Recieved: Forgeries Made In Shell

    Machines loosely¨Cand horribly¨Cbased off of shellraiser magitech have been found deep underneath the ocean.

    Find the source of these machines and stop their creation, or aid them in making creations worthy of a shellraiser.

    Rewards: shellraiser schematics, illusive materials, a proper facility.

    I sigh and cover my eyes with my hand. Pearl laughs out loud, and Illumisia jumps onto my shoulder to see what the system just sent me. Then laughs right along with Pearl.

    ¡°Look; you don¡¯t even get to deny it.¡± Pearl says between giggles. ¡°Even the system knows how shoddy these things are. Ooh, I can¡¯t wait to see the looks on whoever¡¯s making these things¡¯ faces when we show up with real shellraiser tech.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re going to be very intimidated.¡± Illumisia agrees. ¡°And then very dead.¡±

    Of course the both of them are ignoring the part where I could help the people make better machines. I don¡¯t know why I expected anything else. With a shrug of my shoulder to get Illumisia off of me and a little flick against Pearl¡¯s shell to get her out of murder mode, I swipe over to my Worth to see just how much of a dent I¡¯ve made in the debt.

    Liquid Assets: 164 Worth.

    Remaining Debt: 88 Worth.

    ¡­Does that mean I killed over fifty of those things? It really didn¡¯t feel like that many. High twenties, sure, but over fifty? That¡¯s not including the ones that didn¡¯t get destroyed enough for the destruction-to-Worth trigger to happen, either. Which is¡­ pretty damn scary. I didn¡¯t think I had it in me.

    ¡°That¡¯s pretty dang good.¡± Pearl notes with only a little of the bitterness in her voice. ¡°Now you¡¯re guaranteed to get over a threshold when we disable the teleporter. That¡¯s great news!¡±

    I nod and close my Class Card, then take out a single glass coin. Sure, the debt says I can¡¯t spend Worth in any way, but I still need to check. I flick it up into the air and let it fall into my palm, then smack it against the back of my other hand.

    ¡°Tails.¡±

    Absolutely nothing happens for a second. Until the giant notification flashes over my eyes.

    Indebted¨CWorth cannot be spent or used in any way.

    Guess that¡¯s still not happening. I deposit the coin back into my inventory, then gesture for Illumisia to take the lead. She saunters ahead of me without looking back to make sure I¡¯m following, then bursts into an all-out sprint. As usual. I pull out the beacon from my inventory and shift it back under my arm, then sprint after Illumisia as Pearl resets the guiding protocol.

    Way, way more running follows. It feels like we go for hours without seeing heads or tails of another living thing¨Cor unliving shoddy robot. I fall into a calm rhythm as my blood rushes through my veins, exertion and sweat working in tandem to make sure I feel this in the morning. Illumisia slows down ever so slightly at some point, allowing me to catch up to and run beside her, but we don¡¯t talk. None of us do.

    Honestly, it¡¯s pretty damn comfortable. The sound of my own breathing is accentuated by Illumisia¡¯s panting and Pearl¡¯s quiet hums. They echo off the walls along to the sound of our footsteps and the rush of wind in my ears, creating a sort of existence that¡¯s only populated by the three of us. The megalodane, the shellraiser, and the Gambler.

    It almost sounds like the start to a really weird joke. One that I¡¯m not funny enough to come up with, so I won¡¯t even try. A small grin crests my lips; just barely big enough to quirk a corner, but it might be one of the most satisfied expressions I¡¯ve ever made. And we just keep running like this for hours. Not stopping for water, food, or to rest. We¡¯re in some kind of weird rhythm, and I¡¯m not going to be the one to break it.

    Pearl is. She hums excitedly and taps my cheek repeatedly until she gets my attention. Then she keeps going until she has my complete attention.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°The line¡¯s straight left.¡±

    Okay, maybe it wasn¡¯t my complete attention, since it feels like that one short sentence snaps me back into reality. I blink a few times to try and moisten my eyes, since it feels like they should be dry, but there¡¯s nothing wrong with them. I swallow a little around a throat that should be as dry as a desert, but it definitely doesn¡¯t feel like I just went half a day without drinking. Or eating, for that matter¨CI¡¯m a little hungry, sure, but the kind of hunger that could be sated with a snack. Not the ravenous appetite that I should have.

    I blink a few times and look down at my hands, fully expecting the sensation of time passing to be a weird hallucination from blood loss. Except my wounds are already scarring over. Even the big gash in my palm looks like it¡¯s on the road to recovery, which shouldn¡¯t be possible without at least a few dozen stitches. Or a healing potion, of which we have none.

    Pearl taps my cheek again. ¡°Shelby? Did you hear me?¡±

    ¡°Of course she did, Pearlescence. She stopped, did she not?¡± Illumisia states. She shakes herself before lowering herself into a very dog-like resting posture, her eyes locked on my own. ¡°It looks as if she has not experienced a runner¡¯s high on this level before. Give the system-born some time to register what physical activity can feel like.¡±

    ¡°Okay, screw you.¡± I point at Illumisia, who only snorts with amusement. ¡°I was not a couch potato back on Earth. Running just¡­ sucked. And now I¡¯m doing it in shoes that should be killing my feet with barely any food in me. Don¡¯t pretend this isn¡¯t one-hundred percent because of your and Pearl¡¯s remodeling.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s kind of sad.¡± Pearl says.

    I shoot Pearl a betrayed glance. ¡°Not you, too.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it that way.¡± She backtracks. ¡°I just meant it stinks that you couldn¡¯t feel good like this. If physical activity doesn¡¯t feel good to do, then how do your people stay healthy?¡±

    Very good question, Pearl. One that I¡¯m not going to answer, or even acknowledge you asked, but it was a good question. I motion for her to hand me the beacon, which she does once it becomes obvious I¡¯m not giving her an answer. It points directly to the wall, just like she said it did, but there¡¯s one massive problem with that. We¡¯re in a one-way tunnel and haven¡¯t passed any forks in hours.

    ¡°Well, shit.¡± I sigh as I cross my arms and deposit the beacon. ¡°What do we do now? Run twelve hours back the way we came or keep going and hope for another tunnel?¡±

    Illumisia stares at me for a second. Her expression says ¡®are you stupid¡¯.

    ¡°Have you forgotten everything?¡±

    Her mouth says it in a slightly different way. I roll my eyes and cross my arms while I look down on the shark-wolf.

    ¡°Jog my memory.¡±

    ¡°Go through the wall.¡± She says as if it¡¯s the most obvious thing in the world.

    Okay, so yeah, I might¡¯ve forgotten that that was a thing. The walls don¡¯t look any different around here¨Cjust like the one that Illumisia walked through before¨Cso it¡¯s not too far-fetched to expect an opening here. Or¨Cand hear me out here¨CI¡¯m going to run face first into a glass wall.

    ¡°You seem to know where it is, so why don¡¯t you do the honors?¡± I gesture at and along the curved glass wall. ¡°Prove yourself the brave leader to us.¡±

    Illumisia daintily raises a paw and presses it against her chest. ¡°Me? A brave leader? How could you ever think so highly of me?¡± She smiles with a predatory edge. ¡°All I lead are death numbers.¡±

    ¡°And I don¡¯t want to walk face first into one of your traps. Or any trap in general.¡± I reach up and grab my bicep. ¡°Do you really want to put a weak little thing like me in the frontlines?¡±

    ¡°The same weak little thing that just tore through nearly seventy robots? No, of course not¨CI wouldn¡¯t want to endanger you.¡± Illumisia drawls sarcastically. ¡°Why don¡¯t you coat yourself in shields to protect your ever-so-brittle hands? We wouldn¡¯t want you opening up those fresh scars again, now would we?¡±

    ¡°Like you¡¯re not a monster in disguise. Did you forget that I saw how huge you were? These,¡± I slap the teeth marks on my neck for emphasis, ¡°Are from your teeth. And if Pearl¡¯s right, you can be even bigger than that. What kind of giant monster is scared to poke her nose into a little alcove?¡±

    ¡°Both of you! Geez!¡±

    Illumisia and I turn towards Pearl¡¯s voice. Who is currently halfway through a section of wall about fifteen feet down the tunnel.

    ¡°I found it already.¡± She says with a barely restrained smile. ¡°Do I get the title of super dangerous monster for it?¡±

    Illumisia shoots me one last mocking look before standing up and striding over to Pearl. ¡°Oh, Pearlescence, you know you¡¯ve held that title for centuries. Come, system-born. The tiny goo has shown greater courage than the both of us.¡±

    ¡°Right. Courage.¡± I huff and follow the pair. ¡°Excuse me for not wanting to stick my face into a potentially dangerous place.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re excused!¡± Pearl says as she scampers up my leg. ¡°You¡¯re right to be a little scared, you know. We¡¯re really good at making weapons; not that you¡¯d know it from those shoddy robots, but you could¡¯ve come face-to-gun with a really deadly trap. Like a¡­ shotgun that shoots pellets connected by strands of metal wire. Or a machine gun that¡¯s magically connected to blackshear bedrock so it never runs out of ammunition or magic.¡±

    I point at Pearl and shoot Illumisia a smug expression. ¡°See? Perfectly fine to be cautious.¡±

    The shark-wolf just snorts and disappears through the glass. I choose to take it as a personal victory, no matter how small it is, as I walk through the glass with a shield primed at the edge of my awareness. Just in case Pearl wasn¡¯t tall enough to catch some barrel behind a curtain.

    The glass bleeds away to a¡­ really strange scene. Scrap metal litters the ground in such a thick layer of nearly black steel that I can¡¯t even make out the glass underneath, with chunks of brightly coloured gemstone emerging from the ground like stalactites that fell from the ceiling. I look up as I kick away a particularly sharp chunk of torn metal, half expecting to see the other half of a bunch of crystalline deposits, but no. It¡¯s just a normal glass ceiling.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t at all what I was expecting.¡± Illumisia notes as she steps over the scrap minefield without even flinching. The metal crunches under her feet, leaving clawed paw prints in her wake. ¡°No shellraiser would leave their storage space in such an unsightly manner. Especially not one with such a valuable and strategically important piece of machinery inside.¡±

    Pearl nods with vigorous agreement. ¡°It looks like this place got repurposed into a junkyard. Somehow the stuff¡¯s even worse than the machines outside. Maybe they managed to crawl outside on their own just to fight us.¡±

    ¡°Stranger things have happened.¡± Illumisia agrees seriously. ¡°We¡¯ll have to clear out this mess before we can get to the storage bay for the teleporter. System-born, how much weight can your shields push?¡±

    ¡°No idea.¡± I say with a shrug and put three skeletal coins between my fingers. ¡°Didn¡¯t bother testing that before. Fair warning; I¡¯m not going into debt again so we can make this place perfectly clean.¡±

    ¡°You are still indebted, so it would be increasing your debt; not going into debt again.¡± Illumisia eagerly corrects me. ¡°Though I don¡¯t expect you to. Come; we start from the middle and push everything to the edges. That should give us access to the storage.¡±

    Even though I want to argue for argument¡¯s sake, that was pretty much my plan as well. ¡°Pearl, can you mark where we came in so we don¡¯t block it off?¡±

    ¡°Already done!¡± She confirms chipperly as a black stain works its way into existence on top of me. I step out of it, and it stays hovering in the air right where the exit is. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t put too much of a strain on your mind, but be ready to have a long nap after this. Not as long as back in the workshop, though; like a normal long nap. Two or three hours. Maybe five. I¡¯m¡­ not doing a great job of reassuring you, am I?¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t list any numbers next time. That¡¯s more assuring than slowly increasing guesses.¡±

    I walk towards Illumisia while carefully stepping in her paw prints for the safest path possible. Sandals aren¡¯t exactly going to protect me from tetanus. She turns and waits for me when she reaches the center of everything, then bends down and rips away a chunk of metal the size of a smart car with her teeth and tosses it away. It slams hard into a wall and shatters into pieces, raining glass and metal in equal parts to the scrap below.

    She repeats this until there¡¯s a clear path to the glassy ground below. Parts of markings show through the hole, but there¡¯s nowhere near enough to make anything out. I flip a coin through my knuckles and picture a ¡®V¡¯ shaped shield pushing through the trash, taking as much scrap as possible and forcing it to one of the walls.

    The coin vibrates as the spell enters it, then detonates into a spell that slowly pushes against the scrap. Moving at a snail¡¯s pace towards the outer wall. Illumisia sighs dramatically and hops down to help the shield along.

    ¡°It seems we will be here for a while. Get comfortable, Pearlescence.¡±

 Chapter 34: A Teleporter

    Sweat drips over my eyes as my muscles strain along to the cacophony of metal on glass. It turns out that the weight limit on my shields¡¯ momentum is somewhere between three to four hundred pounds. When I stretch it out as wide as I did. Turning them into four-foot wide and two foot tall pushing sticks upped that to at least three times the previous limit.

    When Illumisia and I add muscle power to the equation, we¡¯re easily moving close to two thousand pounds of scrap per pusher. Not fast, of course, but it¡¯s moving. I reach up to wipe the sweat from my eyes and lean down to stare at the glass as more sweat instantly takes its place. Spattering the ground with all my hard work.

    Illumisia pushes her scrap-shield right up next to mine and nods down at me. ¡°More of your body¡¯s fluids seem to be on the glass rather than inside of you.¡±

    I huff out a few ragged breaths before I can even answer. ¡°Ha-ha. I¡¯ll be sure to drink the rest of that water I finished an hour ago.¡±

    ¡°No, you will take a break. We¡¯re only halfway through, and you collapsing on us will only lead to more delays.¡± She shakes herself and a blood red duplicate falls out of her. ¡°I can handle more on my own. Gather your strength in case the teleporter does not wish to be accessed.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ fine.¡± I mutter as my hands slip from the shield. Too much sweat. I blink it from my eyes and rest my hands on my knees, trying my damndest to catch my breath that keeps slipping away from me. All the while Illumisia just watches with unchanging eyes.

    The duplicate gently pushes me out of the way and presses its head to my shield. ¡°I am taking over.¡± She declares. ¡°You can help once more when you are physically able to. Until then, rest and recuperate. You do not have the blessing of the pack as I do.¡±

    I groan out something between acceptance and an argument, then flop over onto my side. The glass is warm. I wish it was cold. That¡¯d be nice.

    My eyes trail the patterns along the visible parts of the glass. The shellraisers don¡¯t need visible seams in anything to open up a door, so that¡¯s obviously not what these are. Concentric circles and bizarre jagged lines decorate the entire floor, from the center all the way out to the walls, and I can¡¯t make out any real meaning to the patterns. Pearl didn¡¯t recognize them, either, so it¡¯s not just a shellraiser thing.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure it¡¯s not just vandalism?¡± I ask once my breathing settles down enough for comfortable speech. ¡°Or some kind of¡­ operating damage from the teleporter?¡±

    Pearl climbs out onto the side of my face and sits up straight to watch Illumisia and her many duplicates work. ¡°The teleporter came to you. It obviously teleported there somehow, or else all this scrap wouldn¡¯t be here. It¡¯d be in the storage space down below. That doesn¡¯t leave a lot of room for operating damage to appear.¡±

    I nod as best as I can. ¡°I guess that makes sense. That reasoning kills the vandalism possibility, too, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Because they wouldn''t have access to the glass below.¡± Pearl confirms. She rests her cheeks in her palms and sighs. ¡°Shelby¡­ why did you exhaust yourself? Illumisia could¡¯ve done all this on her own.¡±

    ¡°Dunno. I guess I wanted to do my part.¡± I chuckle as Illumisia sends out another duplicate, for which I create another pushing shield. ¡°Now that I¡¯ve seen how easily she can do all this, it kind of makes me feel stupid for trying.¡±

    And a little frustrated, if I¡¯m being honest. Which I¡¯m obviously not, since I¡¯m thinking this instead of saying it out loud to Pearl.

    She shifts a little with a melancholy smile. ¡°Illumisia¡¯s always been a one woman army. But even that wasn¡¯t enough, apparently. Since she got captured and everything.¡±

    Illumisia¡¯s ears perk up at that. Pearl must¡¯ve seen it, too, since her eyes are a whole lot better than mine. But she pretends that she doesn¡¯t and keeps talking.

    ¡°I really wish I could tell you all the stories. But I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a single one of them that¡¯d get through the censorship. You¡¯ve probably guessed by now that I¡¯m not just a run of the mill shellraiser, right?¡±

    ¡°What? No.¡± I roll my eyes and gesture at¡­ everything, really. ¡°The things that were powerful enough to do all this and capture Illumisia just happened to make you into a quest item instead of killing or¡­ converting you? Is that the right term?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d call it indoctrinating, but converting is close enough.¡± Pearl chuckles wistfully. ¡°There¡¯s a reason for it, but that¡¯s definitely getting censored. Not like Illumisia¡¯s ¡®too strong to be contained¡¯, which is excused from the censorship stuff for some reason.¡±

    ¡°They can¡¯t censor what they can¡¯t contain!¡± Illumisia looks up from her barrier and quirks a smile. ¡°Except when they contained me for centuries. But I¡¯m going to pretend that didn¡¯t happen for the rest of my very long life.¡±

    Pearl sticks out her tongue at Illumisia, then giggles and lies down on the side of my head. ¡°I really missed this; having friends to talk to, going out on adventures, even being in danger to a certain extent. Not like, the times we almost died, I mean¨Cjust up until those points. It¡¯s been way, way too long since I¡­ wasn¡¯t trapped.¡±

    There¡¯s a weight and a history to Pearl¡¯s words that feels like it goes back decades. Centuries, even. I want to ask for specifics, but my head starts to hurt as I form semblances of questions. So I just sigh and roll over onto my back, causing Pearl to squeal and scramble to hold onto my nose so she isn¡¯t thrown off.

    ¡°Once I have a billion Mind, I¡¯m going to listen to every single one of your stories.¡± I say as the system¡¯s buzzing white mulls in the background. ¡°And if that¡¯s still not enough, I¡¯ll find some way to hear you. The system¡¯s not going to keep me from knowing your truth.¡±

    ¡°The truth.¡± Illumisia says seriously. ¡°Not your truth. There is only one truth, though it can be observed through many different perspectives.¡±

    I watch Pearl crawl onto my face and sit cross-legged on my forehead. ¡°Then I¡¯ll see your perspective of the truth.¡± I look up slightly to actually see Illumisia, who has stopped pushing and is looking back at me. ¡°Both of yours.¡±

    She snorts out a quick laugh, then goes right back to pushing. ¡°Not all the stories will be pleasant, I can tell you that much.¡±

    ¡°Most of them aren¡¯t, actually.¡± Pearl agrees. ¡°Well, past a certain point they aren¡¯t. Before that they¡¯re all pretty good. Some adversity and tragedies, sure, but most of them have happy endings until ___ ______ _______. ¡­Oop!¡±

    She bends down and looks into my eyes. ¡°I think that triggered the censorship.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± I say through clenched teeth. The headache isn¡¯t that bad, but¡­ it hurts all over for some reason. Almost like my entire body is more hard-wired into my brain than before. ¡°Illumisia, can you handle the rest of this on your own?¡±

    ¡°I can.¡±

    I close my eyes. ¡°Thank you. I¡¯m taking a nap.¡±

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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    Illumisia and Pearl¡¯s voices rouse me from a dreamless sleep. I yawn as I sit up and scratch my face, looking around at the fairly clear clearing all around me. All the junk that once covered everything now covers the last ten percent of the room; around and up the walls. Except for the one place we marked off, which leaves us a good ten foot area to get back out.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you.¡± Pearl taps her fingers against the ground. ¡°These markings aren¡¯t anything at all. No language, no usefulness, and no vandalism for reasons I know you overheard. I can¡¯t give a reason for something reasonless.¡±

    ¡°Make your best guess.¡± Illumisia says from over Pearl¡¯s tiny shoulder. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to push ahead if it puts the system-born in undue danger.¡±

    Pearl nods in agreement. ¡°We want the same thing here, but I can¡¯t find a meaning in something meaningless either. They¡¯re here, and we don¡¯t have any idea why they are. They could be system-related, a weird natural formation in the glass, or a message left in some coded language made after we got sealed away. Heck, they could have something to do with all the command crystals I took.¡±

    ¡°Or they could be absolutely nothing.¡± I yawn and walk up behind the pair. They¡¯re studying a particular chunk of floor; one with a circle and an oval that looks a lot like saturn. ¡°If we¡¯re delaying for my own safety, then we need to pit that against my time limit. Not that I don¡¯t trust Illumisia, but what if this place doesn¡¯t actually have a teleporter? What if it was rigged by someone to attract all the beacons to right here instead of what they¡¯re actually looking for?¡±

    I kneel down next to the carving and frown. The saturn-like thing only looks like that because I have a reference point; it¡¯s just two slightly differently sized circles put together. Completely random, just like all the other circles and lines littering the floor.

    ¡°It could be a distraction.¡± Illumisia readily agrees.

    Pearl raises an eyebrow as she starts to climb my arm. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be kind of pointless? If we know how to get in here and we don¡¯t get killed by the shoddy robots outside, then how could little carvings stop us?¡±

    ¡°Precisely for those reasons. We are competent enough to not be threatened by the robots, have the knowledge to traverse the false walls, and a beacon leading us directly where we need to go.¡± Illumisia licks her lips and nods confidently. ¡°When all else fails, and you have no more countermeasures, all you can do is hope the invaders think themselves out of their prize. In this case, we are the invaders.¡±

    ¡°We got that.¡± I stand with a grunt and stretch my back. ¡°Let¡¯s break this puppy open. Illumisia can brutalize anything that¡¯s a trap, and if the two of you are really worried about me, I can step outside until it opens. But we need to know as soon as possible.¡±

    ¡°A fair point. Pearlescence, whenever you are ready.¡±

    Pearl salutes Illumisia, then waves her hand through the air. A trail of shimmering black-tinged green follows in her wake, and the colours grow increasingly intense as I feel magic rumble to life. Part of it is from the room; like a giant mechanism hidden under our feet making itself known in the most vigorous way possible.

    A much bigger part comes from Pearl herself. It almost sings in my ear with its intensity, but also remains as quiet as a mouse. Compared to the power in the room Pearl¡¯s is wielded with infinitely more competence and grace; like a professional dancer contrasted with a shelf shaking from an earthquake. Except, somehow, the dancer feels ten times deadlier than the earthquake.

    Part of my mind resonates with Pearl¡¯s power. Somehow, I understand it at a foundational level; she is commanding the ancient mechanisms to function. Overriding whatever else may have been in place with raw strength and influence alone. Her magic doesn¡¯t take a singular shape, but rather takes an infinite number of shapes all at once¨Cthrowing everything possible at the lock until the right key manages to slip into place.

    The sheer waste of mana appauls me. It also doesn¡¯t seem to drain Pearl in the slightest. And it definitely raises so many questions about everything we¡¯ve been through. Ones that will have to wait for more Mind, since the floor clicks loudly and starts to audibly move.

    ¡°Got it!¡± Pearl says triumphantly. ¡°It¡¯s an old¨C¡±

    Illumisia cuts her off with a shake of her head. ¡°Censorship, Pearlescence. You can explain it to me later if you really want to.¡±

    Pearl nods sadly. ¡°Aw, okay. But it¡¯s a cool piece of history. We used this kind of thing to turn our waste materials into usable parts, not for¡­ storage¡­¡±

    My heart sinks as everything comes into view. Shells broken into countless pieces. Glass fractured and split into useless chunks. Splintered and rotted wood that seeps magical destruction unlike anything I¡¯ve felt so far. And among all the trash is the king of trash itself¨Cthe disk atop a teleporter. Complete with about half the shells, none of which are undamaged, and with a massive chunk taken out of the center.

    ¡°It¡¯s scrapped.¡± I grit my teeth and ball my fists. ¡°It¡¯s not even the same teleporter. The damned shovel managed to find its way into these stupid tunnels, but the actual objective of my quest ISN¡¯T EVEN HERE?!¡±

    I turn to Illumisia, fully expecting her to sigh at me and chastise me for raising my voice. Instead, I see actual regret and worry painted unbelievably thick on her face that it dulls my own frustration.

    ¡°You actually thought this was going to get us out of here.¡± I say slowly so I don¡¯t raise my voice.

    She blinks slowly, then nods. ¡°I did.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it? No explanation? Just ¡®I did¡¯, and now we¡¯re screwed?¡± I laugh shakily and cross my arms, digging my fingers into my sides to stop myself from trembling. ¡°Even if I somehow get enough Worth now, I¡¯ll never get to the right place in time. The system¡¯s going to kill me.¡±

    I start to pace back and forth and start to gnaw on my ring finger¡¯s first knuckle. Illumisia goes completely silent. Pearl offers a bunch of solutions into my ear that she doesn¡¯t even sound confident in. I take all of them in, trying my hardest to give each of them the time they need to rumble around in my head. A few of them are alright. None of them actually solve the problem of the system disposing of me.

    ¡°Um¡­ there¡¯s¡­ I can¡­ w-we¡­¡± Pearl stammers, then sets her mouth into a thin line. ¡°All I have left is the hope that we could somehow repair it. We have the schematic, even though Shelby can¡¯t read it, so maybe Illumisia and I can make it work again?¡±

    Illumisia¡¯s eyes widen, and she looks down into the hole with reluctance. ¡°I do not know; it looks to be missing many key parts. Many, many key parts that we do not possess. Do not forget that I know the contents of your Shelby¡¯s inventory.¡±

    ¡°Well, then we¡¯ll just have to look for them. We can¡¯t sit back and do nothing until Shelby gets¡­ vaporized, or whatever the system does to people that don¡¯t meet its requirements.¡± Pearl says with desperation. ¡°She¡¯s the only reason I¡¯m here. She¡¯s the only reason you¡¯re here. I am not going to repay that with failing her. ¡­Again.¡±

    Pearl whispers that last word with such sincerity and regret that it hits me right in the heart. Illumisia sighs and nods, but doesn¡¯t outright say she¡¯ll help repair the teleporter. Because she¡¯s probably right. Even if we can get back to the workshop, we can¡¯t use any of those materials. And it¡¯ll be the exact same if we manage to find another.

    The mounting dread doesn¡¯t get any better. I crouch down and hug my knees as my stomach ties itself in knots, staring at the broken teleporter in the hope that any good idea will spring to mind. Because there has to be a way forward here. It can¡¯t just¡­ end like this. With an escape before my very eyes that I can¡¯t use.

    It has to be in the specifics. Like¡­ the shellraisers seem to be super protective of their stuff. So much so that we can¡¯t even take materials out of the workshop. But I still got scrap and some lumber from the market where I found Pearl. There¡¯s no way they wouldn¡¯t have put the same protection on that place as the workshop to keep people from putting their walls into their inventories.

    I look over my shoulder and frown at the entrance. It¡¯s still mostly clear, but it looks like something got pushed out of the wall somehow. Removed from the glass entirely. Does that mean this place doesn¡¯t have the same removal restriction as the workshop, or does the restriction stop working when the thing it¡¯s restricting gets scrapped?

    A plan slowly starts to form in my mind. ¡°We can take the teleporter to the workshop. This is pretty much a garbage dump; there¡¯s no way it¡¯ll have the same restrictions as the workshop. Once we repair it there, all we have to do is use it. It won¡¯t even matter if we can¡¯t take it outside after that.¡±

    Some small semblance of hope beats back the dread. I flick a coin through my fingers, then use it to create a shield bridge leading down to the teleporter. Illumisia watches me with obvious skepticism, but she doesn¡¯t stop me.

    ¡°It could work, but the entrance to this place is far too small to fit the¡­ teleporter¡­¡± She trails off and audibly licks her lips. ¡°Pearlescence, this appears to be a bay for disposal and repurposing of small machines. Yet there is one giant teleporter inside of it. Is there any way other than a system being used to achieve this?¡±

    Pearl shimmies to face Illumisia and scratches her chin. ¡°I guess someone could¡¯ve teleported the teleporter in. Or they could¡¯ve built it here to start with. But yeah, I guess someone using a system¨Cor something that works like it¨Cis the most likely explanation. Why?¡±

    ¡°Because if it can be taken in with a system, it can be taken out with a system.¡±

 Chapter 35: Touch Sand

    ¡°If a system can move it, then sure. But we don¡¯t even know if that¡¯s how the teleporter got here in the first place.¡± I point out as I reach the bottom of my shield. The teleporter sprawls out below me. It looks exactly like a broken version of the thing that tried to vaporize me. ¡°Pearl, how long would it take to repair this thing without the specialized parts?¡±

    ¡°Way too long without them. But if we had them¡­ maybe a day and a half.¡±

    That¡¯s about what I expected. I brush my fingers against the teleporter, feeling marked and pitted glass rub against my thick skin, and attempt to deposit it. The system tries to take hold of the massive thing, but after covering less than a quarter of its surface area, it fails abruptly.

    Cannot be deposited; item too large for personal inventory.

    Repurposing available at 8 Soul.

    No idea what ¡®repurposing¡¯ means, but I¡¯m more than a few skill points short of that. And the entire reason I tried in the first place just flat out doesn¡¯t work.

    Illumisia leans down a little further. ¡°Did it work?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°No dice. If someone brought it in with their inventory, they¡¯d already upgraded it somehow.¡±

    She snarls and lets loose a stream of half-barks that sound offensive. Pearl¡¯s expression turns sour at the tirade, and she raises both of her hands to cover her mouth in disbelief. Don¡¯t need an interpreter to know when someone¡¯s cursing out their circumstances.

    ¡°Then we are stuck.¡± Illumisia jumps into the pit and slams down onto the teleporter. ¡°We¡¯re chasing a device that can teleport itself. There is no possible way to track it down before your Shelby¡¯s time limit expires. Without it, nothing else matters. So where do we take this? To its logical conclusion?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that.¡± Pearl warns Illumisia. ¡°We still have options. Just¡­ much harder ones.¡±

    ¡°Oh, truly? I would love to hear them.¡± Illumisia sits down on the teleporter and gestures a paw at Pearl. ¡°Because to me, it looks as if your Shelby is doomed. She traded her life for our freedoms, and that does not sit well with me at all. Please, if there is anything you can think of¨Canything at all¨CI am willing to do it.¡±

    Pearl seems taken aback by Illumisia¡¯s desperation. Hell, I¡¯m taken aback too. It almost sounds like she doesn¡¯t want me to die, even if it''s just because I¡¯m the reason she got free.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have anything to do with¡­ ability.¡± Pearl says slowly. She slides down my shoulder, then pokes at me to hold her up in my hand. ¡°If this could be solved with violence or competence alone, we wouldn¡¯t be having this problem. But this is a riddle laced with restrictions and redactions. We need to find something that the system will allow Shelby to get away with. You know how much of a risk it was to revive her. Imagine what the system would do if we¡­ did the other things.¡±

    ¡°I am aware.¡± Illumisia locks eyes with me. ¡°But it is better than dying.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t confirm that.¡± Pearl insists. ¡°Our only chances are to somehow repair the teleporter, or to hope against hope that the one that attacked her comes for Shelby again.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and that isn¡¯t¡­ happening¡­¡± I trail off as a memory knocks at the forefront of my mind. My brows screw together in thought as I pull out my Class Card with my free hand, all the while Illumisia and Pearl keep chattering among themselves.

    A quest stares back at me. One that I wouldn¡¯t have thought to even look at, but if a damn shovel can somehow make it all the way out here, then why couldn¡¯t something that can teleport itself?

    What Lies Below.

    Something exists underneath the Seasky Shores.

    It will continue hunting you at daybreak, growing in intensity every day, unless you deal with it.

    Objective: Identify, Locate, and Defeat the unknown monster.

    Identified: Shellraiser Teleporter.

    Locate: Incomplete.

    Defeated: Incomplete.

    Rewards: 300 Worth, two Stat Coins, and ????.

    The teleporter was supposed to come for me every day at daybreak. But it hasn¡¯t. It hasn¡¯t shown up even one time since I went down the damn hole. The system had to have sent me down here¨Cinto glass tunnels where there¡¯s no chance I¡¯d touch sand again¨Cto make sure I never had even the slightest chance to teleport. With one offered quest, it thought it got rid of its Gambler problem for another little while. Well¡­ there might be a way to change that.

    I accidentally squeeze Pearl in my excitement. She squeaks in surprise, then shoots me a very confused look.

    ¡°Pearl. Illumisia. Where are we right now?¡±

    Illumisia cocks her head to the side, then raises her nose upwards and sniffs loudly. ¡°We are under a specific stretch of ocean whose name would be censored. Why?¡±

    ¡°Is there sand under us? Above us?¡± I scramble back up the shield as a real plan starts to build. ¡°Can it be considered the same sand as on the seasky shores, even if it¡¯s by a longshot?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ suppose it could.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll have to do.¡± I grin and gesture down at the shark-wolf. ¡°We need to break a tunnel. Drag that thing out of the pit and I¡¯ll explain the plan.¡±

    ¡°So the plan involves destruction and the broken teleporter. I¡¯m intrigued.¡± She says as she walks onto my shield, then bites into the glass and starts pulling the teleporter out. When she talks, she doesn¡¯t even sound like she¡¯s got her mouth full. ¡°Did looking at your system give you a flash of inspiration?¡±

    ¡°I hope it did. Or else I got squeezed for nothing.¡± Pearl pouts, but I can see the relief in her eyes. ¡°What¡¯s the plan, Shelby?¡±

    I grin wildly as images of my first encounter with the teleporter flash through my mind. ¡°Sandworm rules.¡±

    She tilts her head to the side. ¡°What are sandworm rules?¡±

    ¡°The teleporter followed me underground. It only knew where I was because of the vibrations my footsteps made.¡± I explain, then gesture at my backpack. ¡°Check the schematics if you need to make sure, but I¡¯m confident there¡¯s a sensor in there for this exact kind of thing. And the quest specifically says the teleporter will hunt me every day at dawn, with no distance or specific location requirement for that hunt.¡±

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Pearl looks over my shoulder, then scurries into my backpack to check the schematic. I patiently wait for her to confirm it as I watch Illumisia raise the teleporter into the air with her neck muscles alone.

    ¡°Huh. would you look at that.¡± Pearl says from inside of my backpack. ¡°There¡¯s an extremely sensitive kinetic sensor in the teleporter mainframe. So why hasn¡¯t it been tracking us through the glass?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing. We don¡¯t know that it hasn¡¯t.¡± I gesture for Illumisia to set the teleporter down, then go right back to Pearl. ¡°I¡¯m willing to bet that it¡¯s been following us this entire time, but there hasn¡¯t been enough space for it to break through the glass. And if it hasn¡¯t, then it¡¯ll beeline right for me the second daybreak hits if I¡¯m standing on something it can sense through. Unless the system can outright lie, I guess.¡±

    Illumisia shakes herself, then just her head. ¡°The system cannot lie. Or else you would be dead already. It has to find workarounds within its own abilities to get rid of you¡­ such as sending you into a place where the teleporter cannot physically reach, effectively cutting you out of the location requirement completely. Is this why you are confident in your idea?¡±

    I laugh and shrug. ¡°Confidence schmonfidence. I¡¯m just trying to live, and this seems like a longshot that might have legs. So, Illumisia¨Ccan I survive you breaking the glass, or will the pressure difference flat-out kill me?¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about that. I can hold the pressure at bay for a little while.¡± Pearl assures me as she climbs back onto my shoulder. ¡°But only for¡­ about an hour at a time, then I¡¯ll have to recharge. Do you think the system considers ¡®daybreak¡¯ to last for longer than an hour?¡±

    ¡°No idea, but probably not. And I really need the teleporter to be able to get here within¡­¡± I pull open my Class Card to check the time limit. ¡°Five days, or else I¡¯m already doomed and I don¡¯t even know it. Can you start clearing the bottom of the scrap well, Illumisia? We¡¯ll use that as our teleporter bait.¡±

    ¡°Do you care about the condition of anything other than the teleporter?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Go ham.¡±

    She nods and licks her lips. ¡°It will take me a few hours to do this. You and Pearlescence go search for more robots to destroy for Worth, and be back here at four hours. That will give us plenty of time to prepare for the teleporter¡¯s arrival.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at her choice of words. ¡°At four hours? Do you mean in four hours?¡±

    ¡°No, I mean at four hours after midnight. It is currently twenty-three hours and nine minutes, so you have just under five hours to search.¡± Illumisia turns and walks back to the edge of the pit, then glances back at us. ¡°I would recommend truly testing those other shellraiser devices you have. If you can use either of them, they will most likely provide greater aid than a simple coin holder.¡±

    ¡°Advice taken.¡± I say with a salute, then turn to leave. The crunching of something massive falling on scrap echoes out from behind me, and I resist the urge to take a look. ¡°So, Pearl, we¡¯ve got some time to ourselves. Can you mark the entrance on the other side so we don¡¯t miss it again?¡±

    She flicks her wrist as I exit through the wall, and a mass of glistening black stretches out along the glass. A tiny string connects it to my awareness, and I know I¡¯ll be able to find my way back.

    ¡°Return route secured.¡± She says eagerly. ¡°So what¡¯re we going to do now? Fight robots until you have enough Worth to settle the debt? Go super in depth on testing out those devices we didn¡¯t really get the chance to? Ooh, how about we play around with your new Soul stat and see if it does anything really cool?¡±

    I chuckle and tap on the knife at my hip. ¡°Slow down there. We¡¯ve got five hours, not five days. One thing at a time; walking off into the distance in search of something to fight.¡±

    ¡°That sounds dumb. You can walk and look at the knife at the same time. Here, I¡¯ll take the holster off your arm so you can reconnect the knife.¡± Pearl insists and runs down my shoulder to do exactly what she says. It clicks free easily. ¡°There! Now¨Cknife time. I want to see what it can actually do.¡±

    I flourish my card with unneeded theatrics and start walking opposite of the way we came. ¡°Pull my chain, why don¡¯t you. I¡­ huh. Why didn¡¯t I fully check this thing out earlier? It seems like the kind of thing I really should¡¯ve done.¡±

    ¡°You did check it out, remember? You just didn¡¯t have the coins to power it.¡± Pearl reminds me, then bounces impatiently on my shoulder. ¡°Come on, come on, I want to see the knife! Power it up!¡±

    Right. I almost forgot how poor I was just a few days ago. I disconnect the coin holster from my Class Card and slot the knife into it instead, then summon a single ghost quarter as I connect the knife to my Class Card. My awareness latches onto it like a thick cable, transferring information from it to me at a frankly terrifying rate.

    Except it all comes in completely blank. Censored by the system.

    ¡°Bastard¡¯s even censoring input from my own body. That¡¯s bullshit.¡± I sigh as I study the knife. ¡°Alright. The description said it was coin-powered, so let''s see how the coin powers it.¡±

    I slot the coin into the knife as Pearl watches with wide, excited eyes. It disappears into the slot with a sound that reminds me of the click of a gumball machine, and a thin aura starts to bleed out of the edge of the blade. A completely colourless aura that doesn¡¯t feel much like anything at all.

    Pearl and I both stare at it. I¡¯m waiting for a popup, and she¡¯s waiting for me to react to getting a popup. After ten seconds I start to feel like nothing¡¯s going to come. After thirty I¡¯m damn sure there¡¯s nothing. But after nearly a minute of waiting and walking, the system finally deigned to give me a notification.

    Attunement complete; this weapon has been set to your clearance level.

    When loaded with a coin that has no spell in it, this weapon will calibrate to your current clearance level.

    Doing so grants the ability to upgrade it to that level at the cost of Worth.

    ¡°Upgraded to my clearance level?¡± I spin the knife around in my hand, but it doesn¡¯t look like anything¡¯s changed. ¡°I guess I should¡¯ve expected weapons would have levels, too.¡±

    Pearl reaches down and taps a finger against the words ¡®no spell¡¯. ¡°The system says that like you can put coins with spells inside of them into the knife. Try out a shield first?¡±

    ¡°So it doesn¡¯t blow up in my face?¡± I chuckle and produce another regular ghost quarter and fill it with the most standard shield I can imagine. ¡°Let¡¯s see what happens now.¡±

    The coin slides into the knife completely silently. Once it¡¯s fully in the handle clicks softly, almost like a padlock being opened, and the knife starts to vibrate. Not heavily, but just enough that I can feel something working inside of it. Something magical. Something that tugs heavily on my awareness, begging for an image instead of the shield I¡¯d given it.

    My mind flashes to a much longer sword for a split second. One with a tiny initial blade, but that projects out a bladed hologram at will. I don¡¯t know where the picture came from, since it doesn¡¯t feel like something I¡¯d imagine, but when I glance over at Pearl I find my answer. She¡¯s bouncing from one foot to the other, whispering something about a holographic blade that is followed by censorship so heavy that it makes my head spin.

    Jet-black projections erupt from the knife¡¯s blade. It shears through the air in a spray of multicoloured sparks, creating a double-sided sword with a half-moon tip that emerges perfectly from the knife. A prismatic edge coats the sides of the projected shield-blade, promising deadly sharpness and durability beyond anything regular metal could hope to provide.

    Pearl squeals in happiness as I hold it up to get a better look at the strange blade. ¡°It¡¯s just like the other ones! Except smaller and a lot less resource heavy! Shelby. You have to try and change the shape of the blade.¡±

    Before I can say anything, another popup overtakes my vision.

    Shellbound Knife: Coinbound Shield activation.

    When activated with Coinbound Shield, the weapon projects durable magic based on the user¡¯s specifications.

    The greater the Worth used for the spell, the greater the amount of magic this weapon has to work with.

    I bring the blade down through the air, expecting it to have a little more weight behind it, but the thing¡¯s still as light as just the knife itself. If I knew a little more about weapons, I could tell you if that was a good or bad thing. Instead, I¡¯m just happy that I don¡¯t have to swing around a fifty pound monster of a sword like some kind of anime character. But¡­ does it even have to be a sword? The popup only says it projects a ¡®durable magic¡¯, not a durable magic blade.

    ¡°Ooh, Shelby, test subject!¡± Pearl taps on my face and points off into the distance. My awareness latches onto something the moment she points it out. ¡°It looks like a slightly better version of the terrible robots from before! Go brutalize it with your new sword!¡±

 Chapter 36: Mounting Pressure

    ¡®Brutalize¡¯. That¡¯s a damn good word. It encapsulates Pearl¡¯s desire for me to completely dismantle the robot, and it¡¯s probably going to describe what I¡¯m going to do to it. Parts strewn all over the floor, fluids leaking out as they solidify into useless chunks; that sort of thing. I shift the knife from one hand to the other, then settle on having it in my right hand.

    I open my left hand and summon three skeletal coins. They¡¯re the backup plan in case this one¡¯s a little better at aiming than the shooters.

    ¡°You¡¯re holding it wrong.¡±

    Pearl¡¯s voice cuts through my concentration. I look over at her perched on my shoulder with a flat expression, her entire focus on my right hand. ¡°What?¡±

    She gestures at the knife inside of the sword. ¡°You¡¯re pointing it upwards a little too much and holding it too close to your body. It¡¯s really light, so if you start running or trip or something, you¡¯re going to hurt yourself. Hold it out a little more, point the tip down the tunnel, and make a conscious effort to keep the sword as far away as possible from your body.¡±

    I blink a few times, then nod in disbelief. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll do that. I didn¡¯t know you were a swordmaster.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not. Definitely not.¡± Pearl giggles and pats my cheek. ¡°I¡¯m just really good at making sure people don¡¯t accidentally kill themselves. It was, like, a third of my job before I got the big promotion. Then it was still a third, just through¡­ really different circumstances. Are you going to change your grip?¡±

    ¡°Right, yes.¡± I say and straighten my arm a little, then twist my wrist so my sword points away from me. Well, more away from me¨Cit¡¯s not like I was holding it like an ice cream cone before this. ¡°How¡¯s this?¡±

    Pearl studies my form for a second, then nods. ¡°Really stiff and amateurish, but a hundred times safer. Oh, and watch out. The robot¡¯s powering up with a really obvious teleport-thing.¡±

    ¡°Teleport thing?¡± I focus back on the awareness, narrowing my eyes to try and get a better look. There¡¯s a small swirl of dark grey in the black, but nothing more. ¡°Is it trying to run away? Or is it going to try a tele-strike?¡±

    ¡°Well, that depends on its programming. If it¡¯s a scout, it¡¯s definitely teleporting away. But if it''s an assassin¨Cor something programmed to kill¨Cthen it¡¯s definitely going to try and teleport behind you.¡± Pearl summarizes as she leans in to get a better look. ¡°The teleporter module is way, way weaker than the teleporter that tried to get you. Probably a thirty foot range at most, with a really steep power cost and a cooldown period to match. Oh, wow. Wow.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and wait for the continuation. Pearl doesn¡¯t make me wait.

    ¡°That has to be one of the worst built teleporters I¡¯ve ever seen. The spatial anchor is so shoddy that the robot can¡¯t even move while it¡¯s revving up, and it¡¯s been charging for almost a minute now. It shouldn¡¯t have been cleared for use at all, nevermind on a combat model. Oh, I figured out it¡¯s a combat model, by the way¨Cpower is flowing into its left arm, which has a blade extending from just below its wrist.¡±

    ¡°Way to spoil the mystery.¡± I chuckle and connect myself to one of the coins. The second my awareness flares, a shield will be there to block the attack. But not a projectile. I want to try this sword-knife out. ¡°How¡¯s this one¡¯s quality compared to the others? Is it scrappy?¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°It¡¯s hard to compare awful to awful. Because¡­ you know, they¡¯re both awful. Really awful. Like, ¡®I can¡¯t even imagine how anyone could make these things¡¯ level of awful.¡±

    That¡¯s the start of a tirade if I¡¯ve ever heard one. ¡°I get it. I¨C¡±

    My awareness flares. A dark stain appears over my left shoulder, and a shield pops into being between it and me. The robot appears in a flash of dull grey, bringing its sword down on my shield with enough force to shatter it. The sword, I mean. My shield holds strong with only a single crack.

    The robot whirs loudly, stuff grinding against stuff, and springs away from me as flakes of deep blue light rain down from the shattered blade. It beeps multiple times in an alarmed fashion, and a bright white light flashes on in its ¡®head¡¯.

    All in all, the thing looks like a metallic plated snail shell propped up on spindly metal toothpicks. Its ¡®head¡¯ is nothing but a sphere attached to the end of the shell, and the ¡®body¡¯ underneath is just as spindly as the legs. There¡¯s no room on the arms for anything to be hidden, so the blades have to be some kind of magic. Which is proved immediately as the one it shattered on my shield starts to repair itself.

    ¡°That is one weird looking thing.¡± I note with a frown as I push my shield out of the way. ¡°Pearl, you recognize anything on this thing?¡±

    ¡°I mean¡­ if I try really hard, I can come up with some connections. But I don¡¯t feel like trying hard for something this shoddily made.¡± Pearl waves at the thing¡¯s head as the light starts to turn grey. ¡°I mean, they put the teleportation mechanism in the one place literally anyone would try to attack. There¡¯s all that space under the armor which could¡¯ve been heavily plated to protect it, but apparently that¡¯s too much work for the idiot that made this.¡±

    She could¡¯ve left that at a simple ¡®no¡¯. But the rambling rant¨Cwhich is still continuing under her breath¨Cdid clue me in to something about these things. They blatantly display their weak points when they do their thing. The shooters, shielders, and signalers pretty much broadcasted their intentions when I fought them. Like video game enemies that are designed to be killed, not actual robots meant to kill things.

    I tilt my head to the side and step forward with my left foot. The distance between me and the robot closes a little, and after I take another step, I don¡¯t have enough room to get a good step-swing in with my sword. I raise it awkwardly and shuffle into a better position, then bring it down in a clumsy arc that the robot almost ducks out of.

    ¡®Almost¡¯ in this case means that I take its left arm off instead of splitting its head clean in two. The thing staggers back and whirrs menacingly, another blade sprouting from its remaining arm, and shifts unnaturally to swing it at my unshielded side.

    ¡°Block it with your sword!¡± Pearl cuts in before I can make a move.

    The coin I was about to turn into a shield goes unused, and I raise my sword¡¯s shield-blade into the path of the robot¡¯s blade. The colourful edge clashes with fluorescent blue, sending sparks and shards of both into the air as the robot presses insistently forward. My muscles strain with effort less than a second into the clash, burning against the robot¡¯s somehow superior strength.

    Not so much as a scratch is put into my sword¡¯s edge. But that doesn¡¯t stop the robot from pressing it down closer and closer to me, whirring and scraping with effort as whatever¡¯s keeping it going works overtime. I grit my teeth and stare at the knife as it hits me¨CI don¡¯t want a sword right now. I haven¡¯t learned to use it for shit, it can easily do just as much damage to me as whatever I¡¯m fighting, and my coins are so much more powerful.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    I nod slightly and press the coin in my left hand against my palm. Projectile fills it, then fills the robot. The light in its eye goes out instantly, and it crumples to the ground in a lifeless lump. A thin grey liquid trickles out of the broken chunks of metal, staining the glass and my shoes as I sigh and take a step back.

    ¡°I thought you were going to sword it?¡±

    ¡°I thought so too.¡± I say with a flick of my wrist that dismisses the shield-blade on my sword. ¡°Turns out I have no idea how to use this, and actually trying to sword fight with something even semi-competent is a really dumb idea.¡±

    Pearl hums in understanding and leans down to get a good look at the robot. ¡°That makes sense. I guess. But what¡¯s the point of having a sword if you don¡¯t want to cut things with it?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to figure out.¡±

    I flip the knife around in my hand, feeling what remains of the shield spell inside slowly whittling away. It lost a whole lot of energy in that clash. Probably because that multicoloured edge was bleeding power like a kiddie pool with a hole in the bottom. I run my finger along the blade, just in case it had started to chip away in some kind of sympathy damage, but it looks like it¡¯s still in perfect shape.

    That shape just isn¡¯t one I¡¯m comfortable using. But I¡¯ve been able to shape shields pretty convincingly up until now, so why not with the knife too? I flip it over once more, then press it to the outside of my left forearm. The dull flat of the blade presses against my arm, magic leaking ever so slightly out of it that snaps to my awareness. I flex my fingers a few times, then take a deep breath and send an image down my awareness.

    The knife twitches against my skin. Deep black pours out of it like a waterfall, strapping the blade down with thin strings while the rest of the magic works its way up my shoulder. Save for a little that converges on the back of my palm, shimmering with colour as it forms into a simple projected shield. Then another sprouts free from that one. And another. And another. Until there¡¯s a coating of rainbow-edged black plates protecting my hand like a gauntlet.

    I raise my arm up to study the plates. They move with me whenever I flex my fingers, perfectly hovering away from my skin so I never actually touch the plates. No matter how much I try to touch them. I make a fist and spread my fingers a few dozen times just to make sure I¡¯m not imagining things, then trail the plates up my arm until they reach my shoulder. They protect the outside of my arm¨Cnot the inside¨Cand cover my shoulder in a slightly larger¡­ thing. It continues a little onto my chest, neck, and back, but abruptly ends there.

    ¡°Is that armor? The knife can make armor for you?¡± Pearl scurries over my shoulders and bends down to tap her fingers on the plates. ¡°They feel pretty strong, too. I bet they won¡¯t give you much more raw power, but they¡¯d definitely protect your fingers when you try to punch something.¡±

    Swinging the plates around gives me a slightly different idea. The knife stays perfectly in place and the plates connect seamlessly to it, but there¡¯s a sense of restriction when I flex my fingers. Not on my hand¨Con my brain. Like my mind would be taking the impact instead of my bones. Or, more accurately, my Soul.

    ¡°I dunno. Not having to worry about breaking any fingers will probably let me punch a whole lot harder.¡± I lower my hand and press the plates against the wall. The slightest pressure mounts in my brain, but it¡¯s extremely easy to ignore. At least for now. ¡°And there¡¯s still magic in here to work with. Looks like there¡¯s a maximum amount the knife can put out at one time, and this is it. Not a lot better than actually throwing out a shield, but if there¡¯s a close range fight, it¡¯ll probably save on some Worth.¡±

    ¡°Could be. How about projectile? Can you put that into the knife too?¡±

    That¡­ is a good question. I easily pull the knife free of the oily black restraints and flick it a few times to get the remaining shield out of it, then push a projectile into a regular ghost quarter and slot it into the knife. A sharp pang of rejection echoes through my mind, like a gong ringing in an abandoned building.

    The coin spits out of the slot and clatters to the ground. Before I can even wonder what happened, the system answers my question.

    Insufficient Soul for that action.

    Required Soul: 4.

    So Soul doesn¡¯t just let me equip these mechanisms, it lets me use more powerful spells on them too. As if I needed any more reason to level it up as well. I shake my head to clear my mind from the ringing, then bend down and scoop up the coin between two fingers as I slide the knife back into its sheath.

    ¡°Guess I need to up my Soul. Just like I need to up all my other stats.¡± I sigh and palm the coin, then trade out the knife¡¯s Soul connection for my personal amplifier. ¡°Now let¡¯s see what this one does.¡±

    I press the projectile into the personal amplifier¡¯s coin indentation, then rip my fingers away and hold it as far away from my face as I can. It shimmers a few times like a luminescent heart beating to a perfect rhythm, then slowly bleeds out an aura that seeps into my arm and starts to colour my veins oily black.

    Shellbound Matrix: Coinbound Projectile activation.

    When activated with Coinbound Projectile, the matrix emits a pulse that violently purges illnesses, poisons, and other negatives from the bearer.

    The greater the Worth used for the spell, the greater the amount of magic this matrix has to work with.

    Pearl reads the popup with obvious interest. All the while my muscles start to¡­ tingle. They pulse and writhe a little at first, but slowly ramp up to a horrific combination of a cramp and the ache after a hard workout. I clench my teeth and ball my hands into fists, glancing down at my twitching body which feels like it¡¯s trying to make me as uncomfortable as physically possible.

    ¡°Are you done reading?¡± I hiss through my teeth.

    ¡°Just about.¡± Pearl replies easily, then glances back at me and recoils at the sight. ¡°OH! I¡¯m so sorry! Um, I already got the gist of it, so just do whatever you need.¡±

    I flush the magic out of the matrix with a sigh of relief. All the discomfort leaves at once, but the soreness it leaves behind is more than enough of a reminder. Pearl murmurs in worry at my state, so I wipe the sweat off my forehead and give her a reassuring smile.

    ¡°Guess I shouldn¡¯t use that when I¡¯m not sick, poisoned, or have any other ¡®negative effects¡¯.¡± I say with a sarcastic laugh and shake the rest of the spell from the matrix. ¡°I wonder if that¡¯d help for things like dehydration or blood loss. They are ¡®negative effects¡¯, after all.¡±

    Pearl glances down at my arms. ¡°Please don¡¯t try it out now. Or¡­ if you do, just give yourself a little tiny papercut.¡±

    ¡°Nah, I don¡¯t feel like going through that again any time soon. Besides,¡± I push shield into a coin and slot in into the matrix as I speak, ¡°If I get poisoned or whatever else, it¡¯s probably going to come with some kind of injury. I¡¯ll test it out then.¡±

    The coin erupts from the matrix and smacks me in the forehead. I blink and recoil in surprise as I stare blankly at the thing on the ground, cracked in two and leaking what little magic I¡¯d pushed into it. Probably shouldn''t have used a skeletal coin for this one.

    Insufficient Soul for that action.

    Required Soul: 7

    Projectile didn¡¯t work on the knife, and shield didn¡¯t work on the matrix. They don¡¯t have the same required Soul, either, so it¡¯s not the power of the spell that¡¯s doing anything. It¡¯s the power of the spell¡¯s effect on the device. Or it¡¯s some arbitrary thing and I¡¯ll be seriously disappointed when I get a few more points into Soul.

    A pool of shielding leaks out of the skeletal coin, coating the floor in a thin layer of magic. I step onto it without a second thought and make my way further down the tunnel. Pearl goes from chatty to serious in a split second, gesturing off into the darkness at blotches of awareness that scrape at the edge of my conscious mind.

    ¡°Three further down, with another two even further than them. One has the same drive as the one you just destroyed, but the other four don¡¯t feel the same. Similar build quality, sure, but completely different parts. The three closest are one of the teleporters and two that feel like water crashing against a carved-out chunk of mountain.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and swap the matrix for the knife. ¡°Does that mean anything?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°Not until we get a little closer.¡±

 Chapter 37: Bait

    One single coin smacks against a purple-wielding robot¡¯s chest. It blossoms into a shield that crushes it against the glass wall, shattering fragile metal into chunks that fall uselessly to the ground in a puddle of spiky purple slurry. I raise my left arm to block a hammer with my dagger¡¯s projected armguard, then flick a projectile into a teal bot¡¯s face. Destructive magic blossoms directly inside of the robot¡¯s delicate parts. It collapses at my feet, twitches a few times, and dies.

    I roll my left shoulder and take a deep breath as the aftershocks of the hammer tingle in my bones. And a slight throb in my brain. ¡°So the shields don¡¯t completely absorb the attack¨Cthey just soften it enough that I don¡¯t get crushed into the floor.¡±

    ¡°Or flung across the tunnel.¡± Pearl adds helpfully. ¡°So? How much Worth did you make off all six of these hunks of junk?¡±

    I pull open my Class Card to check, but instantly there¡¯s a huge problem. My debt hasn¡¯t decreased by even one Worth. Which means I didn¡¯t destroy a single one of these junkers enough to trigger the conversion.

    ¡°Absolutely nothing.¡± I sigh and send my Class Card away. ¡°Guess I didn¡¯t brutalize them enough, so now I have to go through the hassle of actually selling them.¡±

    Pearl frowns. ¡°That sucks.¡±

    Indeed it does, my formless friend. I kick aside a rolling chunk of metal that I¡¯m pretty sure was something¡¯s shoulder, then bend down and press my fingers to the purple bot¡¯s chassis. The thing is horrifically warm to the touch¨Clike an overheating computer¨Cand it smells a little like burning plastic. My projectile didn¡¯t do that.

    ¡°Useless bags of bolts. Making me deal with your crappy design instead of getting completely destroyed.¡± I mutter as I deposit the junk. ¡°You better be worth a good chunk for the trouble.¡±

    Shambling Metallic Facade: Violet stored.

    Predicted Worth: 68.

    ¡­Oh. That¡¯s actually a pretty good chunk. Multiply it by five¨Cno, six, actually¨Cand it¡¯s almost half of everything I need. Hell, if I flip every single Worth they give me, then I might actually be done when I factor in the quest reward. It feels¡­ weird to be so close to done. I went for so long without seeing a single Worth, and since we ran into those turtle-bots the first time, I¡¯m pretty much done with the thousand Worth requirement. Of course I still need to find the right place and complete the teleporter quest, but¡­ it actually feels like we¡¯re getting somewhere now.

    ¡°Sixty eight. Not bad at all.¡± Pearl notes as I swipe away the notification. ¡°Do you think the purple one is worth more than the greys and teals?¡±

    ¡°Hell, I hope it¡¯s worth a whole lot less.¡± I say as I shift to the other robot and deposit it as well, making space by shifting some other things into my backpack. ¡°Hey, do you know anything about how the clearance levels work?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°Other than the fact that they need more Worth every time, nope. And I only know that because I saw your Worth requirement go up. You can ask Illumisia, though; she probably knows more.¡±

    I nod, then get to my feet and make for the other destroyed robots. We¡¯ve still got a few hours before Illumisia wants us back, and if they¡¯re going to hand out Worth paydays like this, then I can¡¯t afford to waste them.

    <hr>

    Shambling Metallic Facade: Teal stored.

    Predicted Worth: 37.

    Shambling Metallic Facade: Grey stored.

    Predicted Worth: 74.

    Shambling Metallic Facade: Aquamarine stored.

    Predicted Worth: 28.

    So, yeah, not all the bots are worth more than the purple. Grey definitely is¨Ceven if it isn¡¯t by much¨Cand the other two kinds I found were¡­ well¡­ one of them¡¯s worth less than the great white dane I killed on my first day here. That should speak volumes about how hard that one was to destroy.

    I snap my Class Card closed and look up at the black stain denoting this part of the wall as the part of the wall. Those last few hours really flew by, even more so because I had to spend almost half of them running back here. Pearl¡¯s doing just fine, if not a little nervous, and she¡¯s retreated to her shell to prepare her whole ¡®push the pressure back¡¯ magic thing. Leaving me all alone to see the fruits of Illumisia¡¯s labor.

    It takes a few seconds to gather my wits. This¡­ this is the culmination of everything. Not that we¡¯ve worked towards it all that long, but if this doesn¡¯t work, I¡¯m dead. Plain and simple. There just isn¡¯t enough time to find some other option. Either we lure the teleporter in, complete my quest, and somehow use it to teleport close enough to the place the system wants me to be, or it¡¯s the end.

    I swallow hard, straighten my posture, and swap out the knife for the coin holster. No piddly armor¡¯s going to save me from a teleportation beam, and there¡¯s a good chance I¡¯ll be rapid-firing spells in a frenzy just a few short minutes from now. I pat it a few times with my left hand, straighten it even though it was already perfectly straight, and walk through the glass with as much confidence as I can muster.

    Illumisia pops out of the hole the moment my feet touch textured glass. ¡°System-born. Right on time, as I requested. Come¨CI have done what you have asked, and I have contained the pressure to the best of my abilities.¡±

    ¡°Really? Then why¡¯s Pearl getting ready to do exactly that?¡±

    ¡°Because mine is containment, not protection.¡± Illumisia says as if that clears everything up. But the look on my face must show the contrary, since she sighs and jumps out of the pit while continuing. ¡°I have contained the pressure from entering the room and damaging all of us. But it also isolates the sand from being affected by us. If you wish to put your feet on it and trigger the teleporter¡¯s vibration sensor, you will have to engulf yourself in the pressure. Though your body is now far more pressure-resistant than it once was, it will not be able to sustain this.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and look down the hole. All I can see is sand on the bottom¨Cno hint of the metal that used to be there. Not a hint of it in the rest of the room, either. Almost like Illumisia evaporated the stuff. She steps right up beside me and joins me in staring at the sand.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Is something not to your liking?¡± She asks with a mild veneer of annoyance. ¡°I did exactly as you asked. Were your specifications lacking?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Just a little overwhelmed and worried.¡± I chuckle and stick my hands in my pockets. ¡°One way or another, this could end up being my last chance. I don¡¯t want to screw up all the good work you¡¯ve already done.¡±

    Illumisia huffs and turns to walk away. ¡°The schematics showed a kinetic sensor system. The system gave you a reliable source of information in the form of a quest¨Cwhich cannot be falsified. And you enlisted Pearlescence and myself to aid you. If this is a failure, it will have absolutely nothing to do with your own actions or competence.¡±

    Yeah, that doesn¡¯t help the anxiety at all. It isn¡¯t causing the failure that I¡¯m scared of¨Cit¡¯s the failure itself. No matter whose fault it is. But I nod anyway to try to convince Illumisia that her words had the intended effect, then tap on Pearl¡¯s shell to get her attention.

    She pops right out and holds up two fingers. ¡°Give me two minutes. I haven¡¯t done this for a long time, and I don¡¯t want to get anything wrong. Shelby, don¡¯t forget that you¡¯re going to have to touch the power core to the teleporter so I can access it. Otherwise it¡¯ll keep running on whatever auxiliary power is keeping it going.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha.¡± I say and summon the power core from my inventory. ¡°Anything else I should know about the teleporter before I do this?¡±

    It¡¯s only for a second, but it¡¯s completely unmissable. Pearl hesitates. She tries to keep going like she didn¡¯t just double my anxiety, but from the look on Illumisia¡¯s face, she isn¡¯t fooling anyone. Not even herself.

    ¡°Nope. Definitely nothing at all.¡± She says quickly, then starts to duck into her shell. ¡°Uh, I¡¯ll be ready in two minutes. Did I already say that? I think I did. See you!¡±

    With those parting words, she disappears once again. I dig my fingernails into my palm and wince at the sharpness, then glance down at the weirdly pointed things that are definitely longer than they should be.

    ¡°She¡­ I¡­¡± Illumisia sighs and shakes her head. ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware there were potential complications, but obviously there are. Ones that Pearlescence does not wish to share with us for whatever reason. Now I did not want to offer this option, but in light of this new lack of information, I feel the need to speak it into the world.¡±

    She turns and locks eyes with me. ¡°If I do anything to this teleporter beyond what I have already done, your quest will fail due to outside help that greatly overpowers your own. So if I have to step in at any point¨Cfor any reason whatsoever¨Cit will be exactly the same as if I disable the teleporter entirely by myself. Do you understand?¡±

    I nod in confirmation and shake the droplets of blood from my palm. ¡°I do. But something tells me whatever Pearl¡¯s hiding from us isn¡¯t about how dangerous this thing is. If it was that simple, she would¡¯ve fielded the exact same option you did instead of pulling away. Since, you know, it only involves me losing some Worth and some skill points.¡±

    ¡°You think she is hiding something far greater.¡± Illumisia states. ¡°Something that could lead to you failing to get out of here, even if every other aspect of your plan plays out flawlessly.¡±

    A small, tense smile crosses my lips. Illumisia nods wordlessly and circles my feet, then glances back at the broken teleporter. Some kind of strange expression crosses her face, but it¡¯s quickly replaced by a blank look.

    ¡°The teleporter is your contingency plan.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way to put it, yeah.¡±

    She walks over to it and nudges it with her nose. But before she can get another word out, Pearl bursts out of her shell. Her entire body glows with speckles of a single colour¨Ca marigold so vibrant that it hurts to look at.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m ready!¡± She stretches her arms and completely leaves her shell, standing on my shoulder instead. ¡°This¡¯ll last for ten minutes once we actually trigger it, so we¡¯ve gotta be really careful with the time we have. Are you good to go, Shelby?¡±

    I take one last look back at Illumisia, then run my thumb across the coins in the holster. Half skeletons, half regular ghost quarters. All set up to replenish themselves the second I use one. This is about as ready as I can be, and it still doesn¡¯t feel like enough. I¡¯m going to try and fight a teleporter for goodness sake; my shields will do less than shit.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± I confirm with a shaky grin. ¡°Illumisia, you count us down.¡±

    ¡°No countdown. Go.¡± She orders with sincerity and severity. ¡°One last time¨Cdo you want me?¡±

    I shake my head as I sit and dangle my legs into the pit. ¡°No. But feel free to ignore me if it looks like I¡¯m actually going to die.¡±

    With that, I shove forward and fall into the pit. I bend my knees to brace myself for impact, fully knowing that it won¡¯t be enough. My feet hit the ground, and the shockwave rips through my body, but¡­ it¡¯s barely there. Feels more like jumping off a swing, and less like falling fifteen feet to Illumisia¡¯s barrier. I grunt with effort and stand up straight as Pearl¡¯s marigold light extends over me¨Cjust in time, too, as Illumisia dismisses her barrier. Letting me fall the last foot to the sand below.

    Instantly, everything hurts more. My joints creak, my head aches, and it feels like I¡¯m wearing a compression bodysuit over literally every inch of my body. I blink quickly to try and get the sensation out of my eyes and snort to clear my sinuses, but it stays. And this is with Pearl¡¯s protection.

    ¡°Okay, ten minutes starts now.¡± Pearl says seriously. ¡°If the teleporter doesn¡¯t show up, then we have to¨C¡±

    The ground rumbles beneath my feet. I breathe a ragged sigh of relief that expels every single breath I¡¯ve ever held in one long exhale. Previously hard-packed sand swirls and moves like it¡¯s alive, making way for a ring of tooth-like shells that form a perfect circle.

    ¡°Hello again, you.¡±

    I flick a few projectile-filled coins into the sand, then activate all of them at once. They shear large holes into the easy to move material, digging around where the teleporter¡¯s main platform is. A harsh metallic whine builds up in the back of my mind as jet black starts to climb the shell spikes, informing me that the teleporter isn¡¯t pulling any punches this time.

    ¡°Shelby?¡± Pearl asks nervously. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°Nothing much.¡± I say with a shrug, then throw shield-filled skeletons into the holes I made before they can fill in. ¡°Just trying to get it out of the sand first.¡±

    With a simple gesture, all the shields activate at once. Shield-made wedges cut through the sand and converge towards the center of the teleporter, pushing it up and out of the sand¨Cand taking me with it. Sand pours off the main platform to reveal a pristine version of the broken one we dug out, with lines and patterns of black shooting through the glass and wood structure.

    It makes a strange noise as it¡¯s ripped completely free of the sand, save for the long tail that¡¯s still stuck deep below. But it isn¡¯t moving the thing at all¨CI can see it through the glass, extending down into the sand like an anchoring rod, pulsing with black magic and some kind of electricity. Electricity that feels like a much weaker version of what I¡¯ve got tucked under my left arm.

    Pearl laughs in disbelief as I bend down and press the power core to the teleporter. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could do that! I¡¯ll start up the¨C¡±

    Authority not recognized.

    Access denied.

    She waves off the notification. And it somehow disappears without me doing anything. ¡°That¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll just do the same thing that I did to the power core. Look away so you don¡¯t get another invasive bout of censorship.¡±

    I nod and look away. The memory of that horrible event is more than enough warning. Pearl runs down my arm as the spikes continue to arm themselves, albeit at a slightly slower pace than before. Maybe the warmth of the tunnel is doing something to it. Or maybe the tail needs to be submerged in sand to work. Or, you know, it could just be the power core I¡¯ve got pressed to it that¡¯s bleeding frosty lines of magical electricity into the thing.

    System-controlled devices unable to be commandeered, regardless of authority.

    ¡°I knew it.¡± Pearl whispers, her voice on the edge of breaking. ¡°The system locked me out.¡±

 Chapter 38: Another Way

    This is exactly why we have contingency plans.

    ¡°Pearl. How¡¯s the best way to disable this thing without destroying it?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ we¡­¡± Pearl gulps hard and forces her voice to stabilize. ¡°The tail and the central control module. If you destroy both of those, the entire thing goes to scrap.¡±

    So just like the one we found. I can work with that. My fingers trace a long path through the air, planning out the exact steps I¡¯m going to have to take if I don¡¯t want to lose everything here. And all that starts with preventing the teleporter from firing.

    I take two fast steps back and let myself fall off the teleporter platform, pushing shields into two skeletal coins as I fall. The teleporter tries to shift itself to follow my movement, but the shields I¡¯ve already got under it stop it dead in its tracks.

    Pearl plants a hand on my cheek and sort of melts her feet into my shirt for stability. ¡°Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?¡±

    ¡°Remember the schematic the best you can, and make sure I don¡¯t damage anything that was missing from the other teleporter.¡± I say as the shields burst free from my coins, sandwiching the teleporter¡¯s tail between two wedges. ¡°How much of the tail can I destroy before it¡¯s a problem?¡±

    ¡°Barely any. As long as most of the circuits and material isn¡¯t damaged we could repair it, but if a single one of the motion sensors is broken, we don¡¯t have those parts.¡± She replies with a frown. ¡°Shelby, what are you trying to do? We can¡¯t access this one. I failed you.¡±

    I flick two projectile-filled ghost quarters at the ends of both of my new shields. They burst into motion, slamming the whirls of magical energy forwards as they eat away at the shields. Trapping the tail in between and popping it nearly clean off in one swift motion. Pearl gasps in surprise as I dismiss the projectiles and dive for the tail, rolling under the teleporter platform and knocking my knuckles against the very top of it before it can disappear into the sand.

    ¡°Deposit!¡±

    The tail disappears without a moment¡¯s hesitation. A grin of victory splits my face, and I wipe away the notification before it can distract me.

    ¡°How¡¯d you do that?!¡± She demands giddily. ¡°That shouldn¡¯t have worked! How¡¯d you know it would work?!¡±

    Truth is I didn¡¯t. If the teleporter was still under shellraiser control, I probably couldn¡¯t have done what I just did. But if it was under shellraiser control, Pearl would¡¯ve been able to overwrite it with her authority. Now, things under the system¡¯s control? Things that are specifically part of a quest?

    Those are things I can work with. Luckily.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to destroy most of this thing.¡± I say without answering Pearl¡¯s question. ¡°The system needs to recognize that I destroy these things on my own, so most of it has to go. And the only way I can imagine getting the control stuff out of this one is by¨C¡±

    ¡°Completely destroying the rest of it.¡± Pearl finishes for me with a nod. ¡°Then it won¡¯t technically have control over anything, since you rightly earned it through the system¡¯s own quest. At least that¡¯s the thought, right?¡±

    I glare through the glass and press projectile-filled ghost quarters to the parts that don¡¯t look like they have important circuitry in them. The image of the destroyed teleporter is seared into my mind¨Cwhich spires are missing, where the massive hole is, and every little scratch on the thing. There¡¯s no way I studied it that hard, but somehow, it¡¯s all there bright as day.

    ¡°Heads down!¡± I exclaim and roll out from under the platform as my projectiles spin up. ¡°Don¡¯t know how much damage this is going to do!¡±

    My projectiles dig into the glass, but barely leave more than a few inch-deep dents. The body¡¯s infinitely more resilient than the tail for some reason, but that just means I have to throw more firepower at it. I flex my fingers and ready a few more ghost quarters to make the attack, but a low hum and a flash of black stops me in my tracks.

    Sand trickles down from above. Then it pours down in a cascading waterfall of soft but horrifically heavy stuff. I cry out in pain and raise my arms as grains pelt every inch of my exposed skin, then fall to my knees as a huge chunk forces itself into my field of view. Frost emanates from it like an open freezer, and blood drips down the sharp edge lodged just a few inches from my face.

    Blood that drips from a hole in my arm. One that¡¯s filled by the chunk of sand. One that¡¯s getting more than a few friends as more and more frozen chunks rain against my body.

    ¡°Shit!¡± I hiss in pain and force a few shields above me. Sand cascades down onto them, blotting out the light from above. ¡°What the hell happened?!¡±

    Pearl spits out a mouthful of sand and pushes more grains out of her body with willpower alone. ¡°I think the teleporter teleported the ceiling!¡±

    ¡°Is that even¡­¡± I start, but snap my mouth shut a second later. The teleporter making a tunnel was how all this got started, so why couldn¡¯t it do that again? But¡­ why sand? Why not water? We are underwater, right?

    I press the shields together and force them further and further up as sand flows on and around them. With a horrendous effort I lower my skewered arm and bite back a scream of pain as the frozen chunk of sand slams into the sand below. It hurts so goddamn much that my vision wobbles for a second, but I bite my tongue to keep focused and summon a shield beneath my feet.

    It levitates slowly, pushing me upwards as the shields above me force the sand away. My mind screams at me to get out alive, but something else screams at me to get the teleporter. Their screams are the same level of loud at first, but the desire to get the teleporter rips into my chest with a sole, deadly reminder; if I don¡¯t get it, I don¡¯t get out alive. Even if I survive this somehow.

    ¡°Illumisia!¡± I scream at the top of my lungs as I summon and slam the shovel into the sand. The coins have to reach the teleporter somehow. ¡°Block the damn hole!¡±

    I have no way of knowing if she heard me, but I have to hope that she did. I try to close the fingers on my right hand, but only my thumb and forefinger move. All the others don¡¯t even respond. Ignoring how horrible a sign that is with no healing potion to save me, I blink away the white seeping in from the edges of my vision and summon as many ghost quarters from my inventory as I can manage.

    Projectiles seep into each and every one. My intent flows in a moment later¨Cobliterate the teleporter and leave only the parts I need to repair the broken one. Not a second goes by before the first one pings off through the cascade of sand and disappears. Then a second follows it. More and more activate as something in the back of my mind stretches thinner and thinner, like a rope quickly fraying down to a few paltry strands. Another awareness seeps in to hold me together. I grit my teeth as Pearl reaches up and gently pats my temple.

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    ¡°This is going to hurt a lot.¡± She whispers into my ear as the rest of my coins are grasped by dark awareness. ¡°But you need to stay awake. And you can¡¯t sleep for a few days again. Can you do this?¡±

    I grind out a hollow, bitter laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t think I get the luxury of not doing it; whether I can or can¡¯t isn¡¯t even in the equation.¡±

    Pearl nods and takes a deep breath. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m technically your quest item, so this shouldn¡¯t count against the quest¡¯s completion. But if it does, I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    My brain explodes. Darkness and vibrant colours vie for equal footing, sparing absolutely none of me as they war for purchase. Through the clash of sensations I feel the scattered thing that is me latching onto something through the dark¨Ca lot of somethings, most of which lie uselessly in the sand. My coins. And deep below, the teleporter. Sinking deeper and deeper into the sand, carrying with it all my hopes of life.

    Desperate fire burns in my stomach. I won¡¯t let it. A prick of awareness sends my coins shooting through the sand as easily as water, aided by the shovel¡¯s manipulation, spinning and whirling into small pockets of magic that rip and tear at everything around them. My mind divides and divides until a small piece of me inhabits every single coin, watching and breathing and anticipating the eventual clash with the teleporter.

    The first one clatters against the glass. It explodes into magic and motion, and pain blossoms in my chest. My real chest. I feel a bloody scream rip free from my throat, but it¡¯s nothing compared to the searing agony that claws at my awareness with rusty blades. Then comes the second. It carries an equal, yet no less horrific pain. And the coin is snuffed out. Like an individual life that also happens to be me¨Ccompletely alien from Shelby, yet also completely indistinguishable.

    Coins rain on the teleporter like living hailstones. I direct each and every one to avoid the parts we need intact, tears spilling down my face as whimpers of pain wrack my body. My knees hit something as the last coin sputters out. It feels like pieces of me are completely gone as my vision slowly goes back to normal, leaving me empty and hollow of awareness.

    For torturous seconds I just¡­ am. Grief overwhelms me, as if I¡¯d just lived my own funeral a hundred times over, both as the person in the casket and a weeping family member in the seats. I don¡¯t know what parts of me just died. I don¡¯t even know if anything died. But I don¡¯t feel like the same person any more. My awareness slowly crawls back to the fraying rope, but there¡¯s nothing any more.

    Just a few hanging threads that once connected something greater.

    I turn to Pearl. She looks away. I swallow around a dry mouth as I come to rest atop a pile of sand, disturbed only by a ripple as Illumisia dives into it as easily as water.

    ¡°What just happened to me?¡±

    She still can¡¯t look at me. ¡°I¡­ tweaked the shellraiser in you. To give you the same kind of awareness that we feel, not the¡­ modified version you normally have. It splits your mind into strands, and each of those strands can act independently. But they can also¡­ get hurt independently.¡±

    I hear what Pearl says, but I don¡¯t really take it in. I blink one eye, then the other, then stare up at the hole in the ceiling covered by Illumisia¡¯s barrier. It holds back some sand, but most of it is water as black as black can be. It feels like I¡¯ve lost something. Or¡­ no. That¡¯s not right. I¡¯ve been made aware of something I was once contently ignorant of.

    ¡°Is this how you feel when you use your magic?¡± I whisper, then force Pearl to lock eyes with me. ¡°Or is this how you felt when you melded with the shellraiser from the beacon?¡±

    This time, she doesn¡¯t look away. She doesn¡¯t say anything, either; she just swallows hard and gets teary eyed with a little nod. It¡¯s more than enough to confirm my suspicions. This isn¡¯t normal. It isn¡¯t what Pearl feels when she uses magic; it''s what the last elongated moments of the beacon shellraiser felt like. Dying one strand at a time, but from a rope so thick that those moments could last forever.

    In comparison, I had maybe a hundred strands in total. And even severing one of them felt like the worst emotional turmoil I¡¯d ever been through. I can¡¯t imagine what Pearl went through when she felt what that shellraiser felt¨Cor what it was like for that shellraiser to live in agony for however many years she suffered.

    ¡°What was her name?¡±

    Pearl reaches up to wipe her cheek. ¡°Mira. Mira of the glass furnace.¡±

    Mira. I swallow hard, barely registering the explosion of sand that accompanies Illumisia dragging what¡¯s left of the teleporter out of the sand pit. Mira had a name. Maybe family and friends. Something¨Cfor some reason¨Cripped her away from all that and forced her into a living hell to protect her people. People that we aren¡¯t even sure survived.

    It¡¯s¡­ a lot to take in. My awareness bubbles onto the frayed ends of the rope in my mind and slowly starts to work itself back into shape, but it¡¯s glacially paced. It could be days, even weeks before it¡¯s strong enough to rely on again. And, somehow, I know it won¡¯t be coming back stronger than it was. To get back to where I was a few minutes ago will definitely take months of hard work.

    Illumisia nudges my shoulder with her nose. ¡°System-born. The teleporter still¡­ functions. And while it does, I cannot do anything.¡±

    Because it¡¯d screw up the quest. Right. I blink slowly and nod at her, forcing my mind-numbed body to stand and trek over the mostly hardened sand. The shovel splits through the pit effortlessly, and I nudge it with my foot to deposit it once again. Damn thing saved my life. For a second time. I¡¯ll¡­ have to look a little deeper into the quest it¡¯s bundled with.

    ¡°You did¡­ very well.¡± Illumisia says slowly as she walks alongside me. ¡°Though I must know; did you predict this? Did you have me remove the teleporter for this reason alone?¡±

    I don¡¯t even have the strength to offer her a smile. Walking¡¯s taking way more out of me than I expected. All I can do is kneel next to the remains of the teleporter, watching the magical technology inside pulsate in an attempt to trigger things that are no longer attached to it. My eyes don¡¯t focus quite right on the entire thing, and as I press my left hand to the glass, it gets a whole lot worse.

    ¡°Deposit.¡± The thing disappears. I close my eyes and sigh in relief, then summon both pieces around me. ¡°Pearl. Illumisia. I¡­ don¡¯t have the strength to do this.¡±

    Pearl hugs my neck tightly. ¡°We¡¯ll make sure everything¡¯s ready. You just¡­ um¡­ oh! Get the reward from the quest and pass another threshold! That¡¯ll open a shop you can buy a health potion from.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Do that.¡± Illumisia agrees as Pearl runs down my arm towards the shark-wolf. I don¡¯t actually see it happen, but I can feel Pearl to a frightening degree. ¡°Pearlescence and I will repair this device to the absolute best shape it can be. Though we may not have enough shell pieces to repair the prongs.¡±

    ¡°No, we have enough. I mean, I¡¯ve got more than enough.¡± Pearl assures the both of us. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about materials, or competence, or anything. We¡¯ve got your backpack for the schematic, my materials and know-how, and Illumisia¡¯s raw power. We¡¯ve got this.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Alright.¡±

    I swipe open the quest clear notification. It doesn¡¯t help the pain or exhaustion, but nevertheless, it brings relief.

    Quest complete: What Lies Below.

    Having identified and destroyed the shellraiser teleporter, you have removed the daily threat of teleportation. Whether that is a blessing or a curse, only time will tell.

    Rewards: 300 Worth, two Stat coins, and a Faultless Inventory coin.

    Current Worth (376) clears the (200) Worth threshold for clearance increase.

    Next threshold: (500) Worth.

    (1) Clearance ticket issued.

    Opening Clearance Shop at your location.

 Chapter 39: Get Out

    Shimmering air cuts through my vision. Pearl and Illumisia hurry to drag the teleporter parts out and away from the magic as it slowly solidifies into something real. I force myself to my feet and stare blankly at the extravagant storefront that appears before me; all promotions and colourful advertisements for things in so many different languages that I can¡¯t even start to read. There¡¯s some symbol based language in there, sort of like Chinese or Japanese, but it could be something native to this world too.

    Then there¡¯s the people. Gil¡¯s store had exactly one person in it¨Chim. This one is almost overflowing with life. Metal armor glints in the light of someone¡¯s magic trinket, a dude in a black hoodie ducks underneath a table and snatches a potion, and the crowd doesn¡¯t even react. There¡¯s got to be at least two dozen people in there. And everyone except for one of them is human.

    That person with an extremely thick frame stands behind a folding table with a cash register on it. Their arms pulse with long tubes of silver-white muscle as they gesture and talk to a blonde-haired woman with knight-like armor on, like huge worms under their skin moving their bones. The strange muscle continues down to their hands, culminating in three thick fingers that are each the size of three of my fingers. If they got wrapped around each other to make one super-finger.

    They¡¯re all the exact same size, and from how their hand contorts and twists, it looks like each of them can act like a pinky or a thumb whenever the need arises. I can¡¯t make out their legs, since they¡¯re wearing a dress-like thing under a heavy woolen apron, and their face is¡­ different. Instead of eyes, their face muscles contract around a glassy¡­ thing that is filled with magical pupils, popping in and out of existence in all different shades of yellow.

    Doesn¡¯t look like they have hair, either¨Cjust thick muscly cords that trail down the back of their head like the biggest dreadlocks I¡¯ve ever seen. They¡¯ve definitely got a mouth¨Ca thin pair of matte yellow lips with two rows of teeth that look like they were all carved from one piece of stone. I blink a few times to try and come to terms with the fact that everyone in there¡¯s just acting like this person¡¯s completely normal, but then it hits me.

    Exactly one person¡¯s talking to them. With one other person waiting in line, while everyone else goes about their business trying as hard as possible not to make eye contact with the not-human. For what it¡¯s worth, the not-human doesn¡¯t seem to notice. Or if they do, they¡¯re doing a really good job of not giving a shit. Which probably comes with the job, now that I think of it.

    I shake my head and frown. The thoughts are coming a little easier now, but that just means the pain¡¯s taking up the focus. And I¡¯ve been standing here almost a minute gawking at the shopkeeper like an idiot with blood dripping down my arm, three fingers that don¡¯t work, and a whole lot of lacerations painting me up like some kind of visceral circus performer.

    About time I do something about that. I spit the blood that¡¯s built up in my mouth into the sand pit, push open the glass door with my left hand, and groan as the relief of air conditioning washes over me.

    Everyone in the store instantly turns to look at me. A quarter of them go right back to whatever they were doing with varying levels of amusement, but the rest of them keep staring. I choose to ignore them and look for some tables set out with stuff I can buy for my clearance ticket, but it looks like whoever owns this place isn¡¯t as easy going as Gil.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± A voice as soft as silk washes over me, undertoned by a nearly insectile reverberation. ¡°If you¡¯re looking for healing items, we have a board in the back with everything you can get for your clearance ticket listed. If I may ask what your clearance is¡­?¡±

    ¡°Three.¡± I glance over at the board in question, which is currently being huddled around by two men and a woman who seem to be having an intense argument. ¡°That¡¯ll get me a health potion, right?¡±

    The shopkeeper winces, then rubs their hands together apologetically. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but vessels designed to carry potions are¡­ far more expensive than you¡¯d think. You could get a refill if you already have one, but¨C¡±

    I cut them off with a nod. ¡°Perfect. Get me a refill and however many stat coins I can buy with my ticket. I¡¯m in a hurry.¡±

    ¡°I can see that.¡± They say awkwardly as they look me over. ¡°What did that to you?¡±

    ¡°Teleporter accident.¡±

    That stuns the shopkeeper to silence for some reason. They try to stammer out a few words, but eventually just nod and rush out from behind the counter to a door that¡¯s locked with at least ten different locks. Eight of which look magical. They unlock them one by one, then disappear into a well-lit stockroom that I barely catch a glimpse of before they slam it shut behind them. Leaving me with both people who were standing in line.

    The woman in knight armor frowns at me. Her expression turns pinched when she sees the hole in my arm, and then it looks like she doesn¡¯t know what to say. Unlike the guy standing a few steps behind her, with an on-the-nose crystal ball in one hand and a glove littered with shards of magical crystal covering the other. He¡¯s even wearing a long royal blue cloak, patterned with flowing gold and white like the most typical wizard I¡¯d ever seen. All he¡¯s missing is the staff and the beard.

    ¡°What got you?¡± He asks in extremely accented english.

    I tilt my head to the side. ¡°Teleporter accident. I¡¯m pretty damn sure I just said that.¡±

    He chuckles and nods, then lowers his orb. ¡°Yes, you did. I just had to confirm it for myself. So, how long have you had a class?¡±

    ¡°Right to the chase, huh?¡± I force a pleasant smile, which seems to have the complete opposite effect. ¡°Almost two weeks now. Nearly done with my first¡­ not sure if it¡¯s a quest, but there¡¯s not a better word for it.¡±

    ¡°Only two weeks!?¡± The woman blurts out in disbelief, drawing both my and the wizard¡¯s attention to her. ¡°What kind of monster did that to you in your first two weeks?!¡±

    My pleasant smile fades away. ¡°Can you people not hear the words ¡®teleporter accident¡¯ come out of my mouth? Do I need to phrase it differently? A teleporter attacked me. A chunk of frozen sand split my arm in two, and now I can¡¯t use three fingers. Did you hear that?¡±

    She goes as white as a sheet, but nods anyway. ¡°Two weeks.¡± She says quietly. ¡°That wasn¡¯t even enough time to finish the tutorial. How¡¯d you even¡­¡±

    ¡°Call me a prodigy.¡± I interrupt before she can dig into something I don¡¯t feel like talking about. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m sick of calling you ¡®woman¡¯ and ¡®wizard¡¯ in my head. My name¡¯s Shelby. What¡¯re yours?¡±

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    ¡°Razi.¡± The wizard offers without hesitation. ¡°Nice to meet you, Shelby. You are American, no?¡±

    I roll my eyes. ¡°What gave it away? The general unpleasant-ness or the accent?¡±

    Razi¡¯s eyes crinkle in a smile. ¡°A little of both, honestly. Though I won¡¯t hold unpleasantness against a woman with a hole in her arm. I myself am from Zambia, though I¡¯ve called Canada my home for almost five years.¡±

    ¡°Diane!¡± The woman blurts out, then blushes. ¡°That¡¯s me, I mean. Diane. I¡¯m Thai. From Thailand. Like, the place with good food. Hi.¡±

    Diane blushes a little harder and looks away when I lock eyes with her. For a woman in a literal suit of armor, she doesn¡¯t act like it. Razi offers me an apologetic smile and pats her on the shoulder, a gesture she barely reacts to. Guess they¡¯ve known each other for a little while. Probably transported here around the same time, or put into the same tutorial place. Meaning the both of them are non-Worth classes. Or¡­ just classes, I guess, since Worth classes are the ones with the qualifier.

    ¡°Well, if I manage to survive this, we should all get lunch sometime.¡± I say sarcastically to break the silence. Just like my smiles, this has the opposite effect.

    ¡°That¡¯d be cool.¡± Diane says without looking me in the eyes. ¡°Do you think you¡¯ll be around Palastia in the next few days? We¡¯ll be hanging around there until our next quest.¡±

    ¡°Palastia.¡± I try the word on my tongue, then shrug. ¡°Maybe. Depending on where my quest takes me, I might be there tomorrow. Any way I can contact you two?¡±

    Diane doesn¡¯t answer right away. As if all the confidence that had seeped into her had been used up in her three sentences.

    ¡°Not without a lot of Worth.¡± Razi chimes in when Diane¡¯s silence stretches on. ¡°But there¡¯s a nice restaurant called Whitestone Porch in the Castlefoot district. We go there for lunch every day we¡¯re in town, so if you¡¯re in town, we can meet there.¡±

    I nod as the shopkeeper throws the storeroom door open and starts to hurry back to us. ¡°Sounds good to me. You two can treat.¡±

    Razi¡¯s smile twitches a little, but he holds strong. ¡°Of course. It¡¯s the duty of the higher level to treat the lower level, after all.¡±

    The shopkeep gestures at me with a runic jug, and I summon my empty health flask for them to fill. They also set down three coins on the counter, each of which the threads of my awareness tells me is limited to a stat of five or less. I nod at them and hand over the ticket, which they gladly take and rub between two fingers. It disintegrates into a fine powder that gets taken by the store¡¯s AC.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s all the time I¡¯ve got.¡± I take a swig of the potion until my body can¡¯t drink any more, then cap and pocket it. ¡°I¡¯m short on time, and even shorter on the amount of Worth I¡¯m willing to spend. Nice meeting you two. Cool to finally see some other humans in this place.¡±

    Diane puts a hand on my shoulder as I turn to leave, worry written plain on her face. ¡°Health potions aren¡¯t free health.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, backlash pain, I know. Already went through that a few times.¡± I chuckle darkly and flex the fingers on my right hand until they all move again. ¡°Thanks for the warning, though. You seem like good people, both of you. Not being afraid of the shopkeep or me and all.¡±

    The shopkeep leans around their table and frowns. ¡°They¡¯re scared of me? Why? I don¡¯t look like a shellraiser or anything.¡±

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t. You¡¯re wonderful for helping us out so much.¡± Razi assures the shopkeep. ¡°Shelby here didn¡¯t mean to scare you, either. She¡¯s quite pleasant compared to most of the other humans I¡¯ve had the displeasure of working with here.¡±

    The shopkeep side-eyes me, which is a strange thing when the eye doing the siding is theirs. I try to keep my reaction to them calling a shellraiser ¡®scary¡¯ off of my face, since I know it¡¯d just insult them if they knew what Pearl was actually like. The system must¡¯ve made the shellraisers out to be some kind of boogeymen.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m as pleasant as an American gets.¡± I say sarcastically. ¡°Sorry if I spooked you. The whole bloody arm wasn¡¯t exactly my idea.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t scared.¡± The shopkeep says defensively. ¡°You¡¯re just a little more¡­ intimidating than the other humans I deal with. Since this is a low-clearance store I don¡¯t usually see the battle-hardened veterans. Or even any injuries, really.¡±

    Aw, they¡¯re making excuses. And they¡¯re not meeting my eyes, either. It¡¯s adorable how embarrassed someone so unlike a human can be.

    ¡°Well, before I go, can I get your name?¡± I ask without smiling. Something about it puts off Diane and Razi, and they¡¯re humans. Don¡¯t want to terrify the shopkeep. ¡°I haven¡¯t been around here for long, and you¡¯re the first of your people I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±

    The shopkeep blinks. A whole lot. ¡°Me? O-okay. I¡¯m Akris E¡¯Rillo. My architect was Dosmigo Elgasa, and my parent was Akmia W¡¯Rillo. I¡¯ve worked here for nearly eight years now, under the system¡¯s tutelage, and I hope to¨C¡±

    ¡°Careful, there. She didn¡¯t ask for your life story.¡± Razi says a little too forcefully. ¡°And she isn¡¯t asking you for what you think she is.¡±

    ¡°O-oh. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Akris apologizes and does something weird with their eye. Like a¡­ sideways blink while all of their pupils go dark. ¡°I thought you were asking something else. Razi and Diane already asked for my services, and I sort of thought you were asking the same.¡±

    Asking for their services, huh. Could be some kind of guide arrangement, or an informant on the system¡¯s goings-on. Or, you know, just a local who has an ear to the ground and who knows when and where all the quests pop up.

    ¡°No harm done.¡± I say with a wave. ¡°I might be back here real soon. Or I could get sent somewhere else. So see you when I see you.¡±

    With everything I wanted to do done, I push the door open and leave the store. The three coins jingle in my palm like diamonds; the raw potential inside ready to be unleashed when my cooldowns allow it. But doubling all my Worth should come first, which¡¯ll easily put me over the next clearance threshold. And the thousand Worth mark when I sell all the robots.

    Pearl notices me first as I walk up to the teleporter, which already has the tail attached. ¡°That was really fast. Did you get everything you needed?¡±

    Illumisia pops out from under the teleporter and frowns at me. ¡°At that speed, I doubt she did much of anything.¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Nope. I¡¯m going to get another shop from doubling my Worth anyway, and I want to do that when we¡¯re safely out of here. Did get three skill coins and a health potion refill, though. Once the free stat point pops up, I¡¯ll be able to repurpose the broken teleporter.¡±

    Pearl and Illumisia share a look. Then both stare at the teleporter they¡¯re in the process of repurposing. The exact same one I was going to repurpose with my Soul. I shake my head and laugh as I walk past the teleporter and go lean against a pile of trash.

    ¡°Nevermind, stupid thought. Still probably worth putting those points into Soul for the devices, though. But on a happier note¨Chow long ¡®till we¡¯re up and running? A few hours?¡±

    The teleporter chooses this moment to crash to the ground, sending shards of shell that Illumisia must¡¯ve pulled out of the sand pit scattering across the ground. Pearl winces as Illumisia sighs in annoyance, then trods off to gather everything that fell.

    ¡°Probably two hours for the repairs, then another six to make sure the calibration is perfect.¡± Pearl taps her hand on the teleporter base. ¡°You have a lot of time to flip your Worth and some rewards to look over. I¡¯ll tell you if I feel anything with my awareness.¡±

    I nod and pull out my Class Card. ¡°Thanks, Pearl. You too, Illumisia.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank us too early.¡± Illumisia says as she kicks a shell over to Pearl. ¡°Thank us when your feet touch dirt and the air is no longer stale.¡±

 Chapter 40: Palastia Beckons

    All my rewards look a lot less impressive when they can fit in one palm. Three stat coins that can only be used on a stat that¡¯s five or less, two without any restrictions, and a single coin that¡¯s supposed to give me an inventory slot. I don¡¯t know what the ¡®faultless¡¯ part of that inventory coin means, but it¡¯s got to be¡­ something. Or else it¡¯s just worth less than the one Gil sold me.

    I bring the inventory coin up between my fingers as I flip Worth with the other hand. The thing¡¯s a solid mass of steel, with a pattern on both sides that looks like a stylized cube made out of bars. It¡¯s open on one side and closed on the other, but the differences are so minimal that I wouldn¡¯t blame someone for taking a glance at it and assuming it was the same on both.

    My Worth ticks up to four-hundred and ninety nine. I nod to myself and stop there, waiting for Pearl and Illumisia to fix up the teleporter before I open up another shop. The one I¡¯m connected to is still right here, after all¨Cand I don¡¯t know what¡¯d happen if two spawned at the same time. Maybe I¡¯d get two clearance tickets both valued for the higher clearance and two store selections to choose from. Or maybe it¡¯d glitch out and they¡¯d both try to spawn directly on top of each other, creating some freakish disaster.

    Some day in the future, I might find myself with that exact problem. Potentially even tomorrow, depending on what the clearance five threshold ends up being. If I¡¯m going to have to wait for a bunch of two hour cooldowns to double my stat and inventory coins, I might as well start now.

    I set all the stat coins on the ground and press the inventory one against my thumbnail. With one swift flick it soars into the air, spins a few times at the apex of its arc, and plummets down onto my waiting palm. I close my fingers before I can even glimpse it, but the sensation of an open cage is so obvious on my palm that I don¡¯t even have a moment of thought.

    ¡°Heads.¡±

    My body twitches violently as my skill seeps into the coin. I shudder and brush away a cooldown notification, then swipe over to my inventory screen and press the coin into it.

    Consumed: Faultless Inventory upgrade coin(x2).

    Two Faultless inventory spaces added.

    Term ¡®Faultless Inventory¡¯ added to system encyclopedia.

    My two black-bordered inventory slots shudder slightly. All the other gold-bordered ones shunt one position to the right, making space after the black-bordered ones for two more black-bordered slots to appear out of thin air. They cement themselves into my inventory in a burst of colourful sparks, but don¡¯t instantly fill themselves with items. My first two black-bordered slots are filled with Pearl and the coin holster, and something tells me I should swap the knife and matrix into the two brand-new ones.

    But I can do better than a feeling. I have a concrete definition. ¡­That I really hope the system didn¡¯t screw with. Can it actually screw with definitions? Because that feels like it would mess up my chances of survival if it could.

    ¡°Illumisia, can the system make fake definitions for me?¡±

    She looks up from her work and shakes her head. ¡°No. The system encyclopedia is already written, and it can only provide definitions to you from it. If it is lying to you through the encyclopedia, it is lying to every system-born in existence.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s a ¡®maybe¡¯, then?¡±

    ¡°I suppose it is.¡±

    I nod and go right back to my system. It might be a ¡®maybe¡¯, but it¡¯s a maybe I can¡¯t plan for or act around. The system obviously wants everyone without a Worth class to succeed¨Cthere¡¯s no other reason it¡¯d give people like Razi and Diane such easy tutorials to go through. Global definitions like this should be safe¨Cit¡¯s the really specific ones I¡¯ll have to worry about.

    Faultless Inventory Spaces

    A Faultless Inventory space is a normal inventory space which has been altered by the system to be directly linked to the Class-bearer themselves, rather than the Class Card.

    When shifting between worlds, all items in inventory spaces are kept but cannot be taken out inside of any world not directly influenced by the system.

    Faultless inventory spaces defy this rule; items kept inside of them can be accessed no matter where the Class-bearer goes.

    All items are locked to their respective inventory spaces upon world shift.

    ¡­Huh. I guess it never occurred to me that I could take things from this place back to Earth. Two things, specifically, if I hadn¡¯t gotten my hands on this coin. One of which is obviously Pearl, since she¡¯s a quest item and I¡¯m not letting her get stuck in system purgatory, but the other¡­ I don¡¯t know. Three ¡®I don¡¯t know¡¯ now, thanks to the quest reward. Almost like the system¡¯s telling me to get my rewards and never come back.

    Which does beg the question; how much is anything I¡¯ve found here actually worth back on Earth? People pay absurd money for Class Coins, sure, but would they care about everdriftwood? Or a big chunk of shellraiser-grade glass? Maybe to some collector of rare bullshit, but definitely not to someone trying to go to another world.

    I lean back again with my hands behind my head. Even if all this shit ends up being worthless on Earth, it¡¯ll always be here for me when I come back.

    <hr>

    Eight hours and fifteen minutes go by. I flip all but one of my stat coins while I fiddle with my inventory space, but even that can only take up so much time. I spend the rest of it trying to make myself look a little less like a woman that just spent almost two weeks underground, but it really doesn¡¯t make a difference. Only a shower and some new clothes can do that.

    ¡°Aaand we¡¯re done!¡± Pearl calls out to me excitedly. ¡°The sensors are aligned, all the tests passed with acceptable margins of error, and I made sure all the map chips are still working. All that¡¯s left is to put in a destination, put the power core back in your inventory, and get going!¡±

    I push myself to my feet with a grin. Pearl brightens at my smile¨Cunlike everyone in the store¨Cand I swear I see Illumisia crack a grin of her own.

    ¡°Perfect. Let me assign these skill points, then we can head to Palastia.¡±

    Illumisia¡¯s grin morphs into a frown of confusion. ¡°Palastia? Why would you want to go to those slums?¡±

    Slums? Razi and Diane didn¡¯t make them sound like slums. I narrow my eyes and motion for Illumisia to explain herself.

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    ¡°Palastia was¡­ one of ours.¡± She says slowly. ¡°But it was lost very early on, and taken as a forward post for our enemy. It was never a large village, but it quickly turned into somewhere where the least valuable members of the army were¡­ unceremoniously stationed. Over time, the landscape shifted accordingly, with my last awareness of the place being that of nothing more than a soldiers¡¯ slum.¡±

    Shit. Did Razi and Diane trick me? ¡°How long ago was this?¡±

    ¡°I will cede that it was quite a long time ago, so it could have changed over the years, but the bones of a place do not break so easily. If you have information that links it to some sort of system-based starting ground, then I do not wish to deter you¨Cjust be wary of the place¡¯s history. It may not be all contained to the past.¡±

    I nod in understanding. ¡°Good to know, but I still think I need to go there. The other humans made it out to look like the tutorial place, and if the tutorial¡¯s the same for all humans, that¡¯s where I¡¯ll find the end to my quest. But I¡¯ll watch out for cutthroats and cutpurses.¡±

    Illumisia snorts and steps onto the teleporter platform. ¡°I will do the watching for you. A pup such as yourself should not be worrying about such things.¡±

    I take the four coins I¡¯ve doubled, add the three five or less ones to my Soul, then add one of the restriction-less ones too. My Soul jumps from one to nine in the blink of an eye, and I can feel my awareness tremble at the change. But it¡¯s still too damaged to show whatever changes it¡¯s undergone.

    Soul of 9 achieved. The following effects have been added:

    4 Soul: Spell access for Shellbound Knife

    5 Soul: one additional shellraiser device connection.

    7 Soul: Spell access for Personal Empowerment Matrix.

    That¡¯s almost exactly what I was expecting. Having another connection for a shellraiser device is a really nice surprise, though. I take the knife out of my inventory and strap it to my left arm, then connect it to my Class Card. It connects with a weight on my mind, like the smallest pressure I¡¯ve ever felt, making itself known while also warning me that it will be a burden on me. No matter how small that burden is.

    ¡°It really is too bad we had to destroy the other teleporter.¡± I sigh and bend down to deposit the power core. ¡°I¡¯ve got enough Soul to repurpose it now, but it¡¯s kind of more important to actually get out of here.¡±

    ¡°You have enough Soul? Just like that? How impressive¡­¡± Illumisia trails off, then nods to herself. ¡°I may have a solution to this particular problem. When I fought other system-born, some of them who had the ability to repurpose or destroy things used it as a way to prevent us from commandeering their technology. Even after they had used it to teleport away.¡±

    Pearl nods in agreement. ¡°I remember that. It was really annoying; we couldn''t access the logs to see where they went if they used the system to completely obliterate the teleporter. We¡¯re not taking the teleporter with us, and I don¡¯t think we plan to come back here any time soon, so you might as well get something out of it, Shelby.¡±

    Well, I¡¯m not going to turn an offer like that down. ¡°How do I do it?¡±

    Illumisia and Pearl shrug in unison.

    So it¡¯s going to be like that, then. I need to test this out on something, and that something can¡¯t be the teleporter. Since accidentally destroying that would lead to us getting completely stuck in here. Not any of the shellraiser devices, either; those are mine. Maybe I can do it with a ghost quarter?

    I press my thumb and forefinger together, and a ghost quarter appears there. A few flicks through my screen confirm that I don¡¯t have a definition for repurposing anything, but hopefully that¡¯ll change in a second.

    ¡°Here goes, I guess.¡± I say and press my fingers together. Hard. ¡°Destroy this thing in¡­ fifteen seconds.¡±

    Destruction activated.

    Checking to see if the item is owned by you¡­ confirmed.

    Fifteen seconds until destruction.

    I flick the coin away as the timer continues to count down. Pearl and Illumisia join me in watching the thing clatter to the ground, doing absolutely nothing as it skids to a stop. Which it continues to do. Until a sizzling noise creeps up in my ears, and the coin disappears with a muffled pop.

    ¡°So it works. Perfect.¡± Illumisia says and taps her paw against the teleporter. ¡°Repurpose this on a large delay just in case it does not work on the first attempt.¡±

    ¡°Good call. How¡¯s an hour sound?¡±

    Pearl hums in thought, then shakes her head. ¡°Give it two hours. That¡¯s more than enough to work through any difficulties that come up.¡±

    I nod and press my fingers against the teleporter. ¡°Repurpose this teleporter in two hours.¡±

    Repurposing initiated.

    Checking ownership of shellraiser teleporter¡­ confirmed.

    Two hours until repurposing begins.

    The popup reads a little different for repurposing compared to destruction, but it¡¯s close enough. I give Pearl a thumbs up and start to rise as deep black magic bleeds out of her body, coating the teleporter in a sheen that¡¯s all too familiar. It quickly coats the shell spikes, and before I can even stand up straight, pure black overtakes everything.

    For a split second everything goes weightless. Pearl scurries up my arm as Illumisia presses my backpack against my side, which I accept with a nod of thanks. I throw it over my shoulder while Pearl ducks back into her shell to hide herself from whatever¡¯s there on the other side. Illumisia does much the same, slightly shifting her fur to be a mottled combination of stark white and ocean blue.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the coat change?¡±

    She gives me a blank stare that feels a little judgmental. ¡°I can¡¯t be a monster with an absurd identification cost in a highly populated area. So I will be a great white dane that is assisting you as a part of one of your quests.¡±

    ¡°Right. Almost forgot how freakishly powerful you are.¡± I chuckle and stick my hands in my pockets. While I watch the unmoving blackness¡­ uh, not move, I guess. ¡°Not to be a downer or anything, but are we actually moving? Because it doesn¡¯t feel like we¡¯re moving.¡±

    ¡°Teleportation is more of an exchange than a movement.¡± Pearl explains directly into my mind. ¡°We take the space ringed by the shell spikes and trade it for the space somewhere else. Oh, and we¡¯ll probably appear a few feet in the air if the target location is highly populated. Our teleporters are designed not to kill, hurt, or accidentally teleport anything that isn¡¯t thin air. Um, be ready for that, I guess.¡±

    A few feet I can be ready for. But the image of us appearing a hundred feet in the air flashes through my mind, and a few coins find themselves lodged between my fingers for that possibility.

    ¡°If it¡¯s an exchange, then how long do we have to wait?¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°I dunno. Depends on how far away we are from Palastia. It was pretty close to the center of the continent, so¡­ maybe five minutes? It would be a whole lot less if we had a more powerful power core, but we¡¯re working with a lot less output in this portable form.¡±

    Five minutes to teleport from the edge of a continent to the center of it. Airlines and car makers back on Earth would lobby so hard to make this kind of technology illegal, even with the apocalypse nearly gutting their businesses. It¡¯s not long enough to do any real thinking or check my Class Card, so I just lean back a little and watch the absolute blackness, waiting for the moment change rips through the darkness.

    Requirement fulfilled: reach a specific destination.

    Requirement still in progress: 499/1000 Worth.

    What? How¡­ I mean¡­ that¡¯s it? I¡¯m here? But it¡¯s still completely black. There¡¯s not even a hint of colour to this weird in-between, not to mention the fact that it¡¯s an in-between. I don¡¯t even know what to say.

    Illumisia looks up at me, reads my screen, and laughs when she sees my expression. ¡°How anticlimactic. It seems that you will have a few days to rest and recover before whatever happens at the end of your time.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I say as the blackness flutters away in chunks, revealing a rolling autumnal hillside upon which sits a massive castle of blurry stone. A castle as big as a city. ¡°That¡¯s gotta be Palasita.¡±

    ¡°It is far more grand than I remember, that is certain.¡± Illumisia agrees and starts towards the castle. ¡°Make haste. You could use a cleaning, and I am very eager to see how this land has changed since I last walked it.¡±

 Chapter 41: Stone and Life

    Rolling hills and sparse fields of crops make up most of the landscape on the way to Palastia. It looks like we¡¯re just past harvest season, since people are tending empty fields, and not a single one of them looks up at us as we trek by on the beaten path. Even when I trip over a branch and yelp as I catch myself. Or when Illumisia mauls a small animal that looks like a combination between a squirrel and a chameleon.

    Honestly, it¡¯s a little concerning. Almost like they¡¯re purposely not paying attention to us. Illumisia licks the blood from her muzzle, crunches on the last of the creature¡¯s bones, and snorts at a farmhand not fifteen feet from us. They don¡¯t even flinch.

    ¡°What¡¯s with them?¡± I ask with a gesture at the nearest one. ¡°It¡¯s one thing to ignore us, since they¡¯re doing their job and everything, but it¡¯s like they can¡¯t even hear us. Or see us, for that matter.¡±

    Illumisia nods a little, and the blue bits of her fur become tinged with black. ¡°These fields are under a complex spell.¡± She says directly into my mind. ¡°It prevents the workers from seeing anything outside of them, while also creating an invisible barrier around the fields that only workers can enter.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and try to push my hand over a waist-high stone and metal fence. It hits a shimmering barrier just where the fence ends that feels as sturdy as anything.

    ¡°Huh. I guess that¡¯s one way to make sure your workers are safe and not distracted.¡± I muse as I shake the sensation of magic off my hand. ¡°So, when did you get the ability to talk directly into my mind?¡±

    ¡°I always had it. There was just no reason to use it, as my range in this form is extremely limited.¡± Illumisia explains. ¡°Now that I am masquerading as a common painted dane, it will be necessary. Be careful not to reply to anything I say to you unless we are alone.¡±

    <hr>

    Towering stone walls grow closer and closer until I can¡¯t ignore them any longer. It¡¯s hard to see anything beyond them, even the castle-like town that should be visible over the top. Pearl whispers something about magic into my ear. My awareness latches onto it a moment later, helped by her own to deal with the¡­ holes in mine right now. Not actual holes, I mean, but¡­ like¡­ the opening you get when you stretch putty between your hands.

    There¡¯s still the same amount of putty, but the structural integrity¡¯s gone right down the drain.

    We walk right up to a gate, flanked to one side by a suit of armor that looks like it¡¯s been sitting there a long time. Moss adorns it around the joints, almost like someone decorated it that way on purpose. I tilt my head to the side and lean in to study it closer.

    It leans right back at me.

    A guard in a suit of armor the size of a small house leans down and stares at Illumisia and I. The thing I¡¯d previously mistaken as an intimidating decoration raises an arm to rub at the bottom of its helmet, then grumbles tinny frustration and flicks the bottom of its chin. The helmet splits in two vertically and peels apart along a line of moss, revealing a very simian face with a long rust-coloured beard.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you around here.¡± His voice was as tinny as it had been a second ago, but now with a deeper rumbling undertone. ¡°Local or foreigner?¡±

    My surprise clears surprisingly fast, and I plaster on a casual smile without showing my teeth.

    ¡°Foreigner. Definitely.¡± I chuckle and gesture at my face. ¡°I¡¯m one of the Class-bearing humans.¡±

    ¡°Hrm. Your kind always looked more like less angular Khr¡¯Keth to me.¡± The gatekeeper muses, then taps his fist a few times on the door. ¡°Gotta go through standard protocol here before I can let you in. System gave you a Class Card. I don¡¯t need to know what¡¯s on yours, but I need to see you manifest it and send it away.¡±

    I nod and raise one hand, summon my Class Card to it, let the gatekeeper see the side without my details, then send it away with a flick of my wrist. ¡°Is that all?¡±

    He thinks for a second, then shakes his head. ¡°We¡¯ve got to wait a little while for the captain. He¡¯s the only one who can open the doors to someone who wasn¡¯t summoned inside of city limits. System limitations.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, of course. System limitations.¡± I quickly agree with real sympathy. ¡°So, do you have a class of your own?¡±

    The gatekeeper snorts out a laugh. ¡°No, no. I¡¯m not brave enough to risk one of the trials, and I haven¡¯t gotten lucky yet in a bestowal festival. The captain does, though, and so does everyone else in the Upperguard. I¡¯m just a lowly Wallguard, but that¡¯ll change at the next festival. I can feel that it¡¯s going to be my year.¡±

    A burst of wind blows my hair into my face, and a moment later there¡¯s another person standing there. He¡¯s wearing a hell of a lot less armor than the gate guard; only a chestplate, armguards, and shin guards, but they all look like they¡¯re carved out of dark green steel. Of course, that¡¯s ignoring the full-face helmet that looks like a combination of a gladiator¡¯s helm and some carved visage of catholic anguish, all of which is carved from white stone and adorned with deep blue angular accents. The gate guard snaps off a salute, but the newcomer waves him off with one hand.

    ¡°Stand easy.¡± A softly pleasant but unmistakably powerful voice cuts through the silence. ¡°The captain is busy with something else, so I decided to come and see for myself. And what do I see here?¡±

    The newcomer takes a few lazy, confident steps until she¡¯s just outside of my personal space. At least I think it was a woman¡¯s voice from under that helmet. I¡­ can¡¯t tell from the body. For some weird reason.

    ¡°A human woman with features the likes I¡¯ve never seen before on a newcomer, accompanied by a painted dane, and wearing a shellraiser shell like some mundane accessory. You are very intriguing, miss. Also very clearance three, which I doubted until I saw it with my own three eyes. And continue to doubt even though I¡¯ve confirmed it. Wallguard.¡±

    The wall guard, who had just started to relax, snaps off another salute. ¡°Horizonguard?¡±

    ¡°I give you one-time clearance to open these doors and register this woman into the accepted personnel.¡± She says easily and without tearing her empty visage of a helmet away from me. ¡°The system seems to have treated her harshly. Make sure Palastia doesn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Horizonguard!¡± He says without relaxing his salute. ¡°Please tell the others to do the same!¡±

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    ¡°It¡¯s already done.¡± The ¡®Horizonguard¡¯ says with a smirk in her voice. ¡°Welcome to Palastia, human. I can¡¯t wait to see what you do to it.¡±

    With that, the Horizonguard turns on her heel and starts to walk away. She gets a good two dozen feet before the wind picks up again, blowing her away in ribbons that peel her physical form away a little at a time. I watch them be carried on the wind up, up, and all the way to the spires atop the highest part of the castle-city. Where she disappears out of sight, and the blurriness starts anew.

    ¡°It¡¯s not everyday you see a Horizonguard come down to the ground.¡± The guard says with obvious reverence. ¡°You must¡¯ve done something important to catch her eye.¡±

    I don¡¯t know about that. The feeling she gave off¡­ it was like the combination of a bored child and a plotting evil queen. It doesn¡¯t make me particularly comfortable knowing someone like that already knows about me, but there¡¯s nothing I can do about it now. Except be boring enough that she doesn¡¯t ever feel the need to see me again.

    ¡°I¡­ guess I¡¯ll open the gate for you now.¡± The guard says awkwardly and leans over to pull on a massive chain. ¡°Have a pleasant stay in Palastia, Class-bearer. And¡­ I know the Horizonguard said she wanted you to do something to it, but please don¡¯t be too destructive.¡±

    A smirk creeps onto my lips, and I give the guard a mock salute as I slip through the little crack he managed to open in the massive stone gate. I hear him sigh and shake his head, a motion that rattles his entire suit of armor, and then the chain coils noisily back into place. Slamming the gate shut right behind me.

    ¡°He couldn¡¯t wait another five seconds for me to get out of the way?¡± I say with mock outrage as I brush off my shirt. ¡°Now my dirt is dirty, and I¡¯ll have to take an hour long shower instead of a fifty five minute one.¡±

    Illumisia hisses out a strange laugh. ¡°If you think an hour is going to rid you of that grime, you are sorely mistaken.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ll need at least two hours to get clean.¡± Pearl chimes in eagerly. ¡°Look for a bathhouse. They¡¯re pretty cheap, and you should be able to rent a one-person shower if you want the privacy. Make sure you get a high-flow one, though; low-flow won¡¯t do anything for the caked on grime.¡±

    I roll my eyes and hold my tongue. There¡¯s people around us now, and I refuse to blow my cover on minute one. Unfortunately for me, that means Pearl and Illumisia are free to use my brain as an in-between for their own conversations. Leaving me absolutely no silence to think as I start to walk down the stone streets and take in the admittedly pretty amazing sights.

    Everything¡¯s made of red-orange stone flecked with tiny shavings of deep green metal like the stuff from the Horizonguard¡¯s armor. I couldn¡¯t get a good look at the outer wall since it was filled with so much magic that it warped the air around it, but now that I¡¯m inside, Palastia is pretty damn beautiful. The architecture¡¯s more mesoamerican than I expected, but with obvious exceptions for castle-style architecture and a whole lot of touches I¡¯ve only seen in opulent palaces.

    But they¡¯re all out in the streets. On the absolute furthest reaches of the city, which are probably the poorest parts if this place is built anything like everything else I¡¯ve seen. And then there are all the castles off in the distance; half medieval europe, half mayan pyramid, and a whole lot more modern than either of those influences would have you believe. I can count seven of the things in total from where I stand, each with their own individual flourishes that make them stand out from the rest. But they all pale in comparison to the massive, towering castle that I saw all the way back from where we got teleported in.

    It¡¯s like the entire city is a waterfall of architecture and life, spewing forth from the castle far above and pooling down into the place I am now. We¡¯re in the proverbial spring a few miles down from the waterfall, but it doesn¡¯t make the waters any less majestic.

    I shake my head and force myself to focus. I¡¯m not here to gawk at architecture; I¡¯m here to sell stuff, get cleaned up, and maybe get some more info from the locals. Uh, not necessarily in that order. Getting clean definitely needs to come first. But when every building is opulent, and even the streets look high-class, all I have to go on are all the different signs. Most of which are mercifully decorated with logos that at least slightly depict the things they serve, but more than a few are just stylized text in a language I know nothing about.

    So I guess I¡¯ll have to talk to someone. Probably not a human¡­ which there really aren¡¯t that many of, now that I look a little closer. The place is a real melting pot of different species, but most of them are one of two things¨Cbig gorilla-like people like the gatekeeper, and slender people with short-cropped glossy hair, flawless brown skin with patches of scales coloured in all shades of red and the colours close to it, and narrow eyes with two side-by-side vertical slit pupils. All of them look like they¡¯re walking in spiked high-heeled shoes, except the ¡®heel¡¯ seems to be a part of their foot, not a fashion choice.

    ¡°Can I get a quick explanation about the people here?¡± I whisper.

    ¡°Sure.¡± Pearl answers before Illumisia can. ¡°The bigger ones¨Clike the gatekeeper¨Care Ogean. They used to live in the Sunscraper Stalks, but the system made their continent too dangerous for¡­ pretty much anyone without a high-level class to live in. So they came here as refugees, and we took them in.¡±

    Illumisia loudly licks her lips to get my attention. ¡°Do not let their size fool you¨Cthey are surprisingly nimble, and have a natural penchant for heat and light magic. Though the system could have done away with that by now.¡±

    It probably did, if that guard¡¯s waiting on the system instead of going and getting magic on his own. Or he already has some magic, but the system can make it better somehow? I guess I don¡¯t know anything about how the system would work on someone who could already use magic.

    ¡°They are really strong fighters, and even better healers.¡± Pearl says proudly. ¡°If you¡¯re looking for a bathhouse, look for one run by an old Ogean. They¡¯ll make sure the waters are perfect and help heal all your fatigue.¡±

    I nod slightly and shift my perspective just a little. I¡¯d assumed the gorilla people would be a little more like¡­ well¡­ gorillas back on Earth. But I need to get rid of those kinds of preconceptions. This isn¡¯t Earth. Things don¡¯t work the exact same. And it could go really badly if I see someone and assume their powerset just because they look like something from back home.

    ¡°And the scaly ones?¡± I ask with a very small gesture at one that walks by. ¡°Did they get displaced by the system too?¡±

    ¡°No, they did not.¡± Illumisia chuckles. ¡°They were native to a mountain range not far from here, and it would seem that they are assuming a far more compact form to actually mingle with the people. Very unlike the Ytocwa I know.¡±

    ¡°Plus, this place looks like it¡¯s one-hundred percent their architecture. They really staked their claim here.¡± Pearl tugs on my awareness to get me to look at a castle-temple-pyramid. ¡°The important people usually live and work in those places. The physically higher up they are compared to the rest, the more important the person is. Even if the building itself is smaller or less impressive.¡±

    That explains why the Horizonguard went off to the tallest spire of the highest castle, then. But¡­ she didn¡¯t look like a Ytocwa. Or an Ogean, or one of whatever Akris E¡¯Rillo was. She doesn¡¯t even look like any of the other people I see as I look around, none of which have the general body shape that she did.

    ¡°So what species was the Horizonguard?¡±

    Silence from Pearl and Illumisia. Neither of them offer anything at all¨Cwhich doesn¡¯t necessarily mean the Horizonguard is an unknown species, just that she¡¯s a species that Illumisia and Pearl don¡¯t know about. Maybe something the system uplifted a while ago, or even another species the system called to this world just like Humanity.

    ¡°Uh¡­ look for a bathhouse. And maybe a library. There¡¯s obviously a lot of history that¡¯s happened since we were locked away, and I think I should know more about it.¡± Pearl chuckles and tugs my awareness over the cityscape. ¡°Is there anything else you want to do before you go sell the scrap robots?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm. Whitestone Porch in the Castlefoot District.¡± I say to myself. ¡°Gotta do that first just in case the system pulls me out of here the second I hit a thousand Worth. But I can¡¯t do that until I¡¯m clean.¡±

 Chapter 42: Cleanup

    Warm water cascades over my shoulders as I let myself sink into a small stone indent in the ground. The waterfall from above fills it ever so slowly with magic-dense liquids that steam and abrade my body, sloughing dirt and grime off into a series of thin slits below. Only the dirty water joins them according to the old Ogean woman who runs this place, and from how clear the water that rises over my legs is, I¡¯m inclined to believe her.

    ¡°Ah, bliss.¡± I sigh and run my hands through my hair. ¡°I¡¯m really not a bath person, but it¡¯s always nice to have one every now and again.¡±

    Illumisia shakes herself and eyes my one-person sized stone bath. Then she looks up at the other indents in the room¨Cnone of which are filled at the moment¨Cbut doesn¡¯t move at all.

    I roll my eyes and wave her off. ¡°You¡¯ve done more than enough for me; I can spot you two Worth for the bath. Go take a load off.¡±

    She tilts her head to the side, then nods. ¡°Thank you. I have not taken a warm bath in¡­ many, many years. I will savor this one.¡±

    ¡°Warm baths are overrated.¡± Pearl chimes in. ¡°Cold showers are all I need, and they¡¯re way more rejuvenating than soaking in your own dirt can ever be.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I sprung the extra half-Worth for the self-cleaning baths.¡±

    Pearl rolls her eyes¨Ca sensation that I don¡¯t see, but only feel, and goes right back to whatever she was doing. She¡¯s been a lot less talkative since we got into the city, and when she does speak, it sounds like she¡¯s got something new on her mind. I don¡¯t know how; we haven¡¯t found a library yet, and nothing¡¯s changed inside of her shell since the beacon.

    Before I can really relax a weight settles on my very being, spins a few times, and lands with an impact that sends ripples through my awareness. I crack one eye open and summon my Class Card to see what¡¯s changed.

    Repurposing Complete.

    Shellraiser Teleporter has been converted into Relocation.

    Relocation? Did repurposing the teleporter give me another spell? I grin and slouch down into the water until only my head is above it as I swipe over to my spells and skills to see the new addition.

    Relocation

    Evolution Requirement: Spend 200 Worth on this spell.

    Evolution Progress: 0/200

    Designate an object or person with a lower Soul stat than yours or who consents to this spell. Trade places with the designated object, with mana or Worth cost varying based on the Worth of the object or the clearance of the person multiplied by the distance between targets.

    There¡¯s no qualifier for casting based on Worth or mana for this one. Well, there is, but it isn¡¯t two different qualifiers like my other spells. And it already tells me how much Worth I need to spend to upgrade it. All that pales in comparison to the absolute excitement that washes over me at the idea of having my own personal teleporter. Even if it¡¯s short range and horrifically expensive to use.

    Of course, those are just my assumptions. Ones I need to clear up before something shitty happens. I summon a ghost quarter between my fingers and push the spell into the coin, feeling a tingly sense of dissociation flow down my arm into the coin, and smile down at it. I really didn¡¯t get to revel in the feeling of casting a new spell for the first time when I got Projectile and Shield, so I¡¯m going to savor the hell out of this one.

    I shudder as the spell fully enters the coin, feeling the connection cement itself with my awareness in some kind of gooey camaraderie. It doesn¡¯t feel like it¡¯s as outright powerful as Projectile or as strong as Shield, but it¡¯s a completely different sensation altogether. Like looking out of an airplane window and watching the world fly by underneath. I glance around for some things to trade places, but the room¡¯s pretty much empty. Save for me, Illumisia, and the waterproof lockers with all my stuff.

    ¡°Eh.¡± I shrug and flick the coin out into the open. ¡°Let¡¯s see what happens when I do this.¡±

    Magic flares from the coin for a split second. An inky person-shaped shadow appears above it at that moment, and I feel my awareness flare at the spell. At the same time, the shadow of a coin flickers in my palm. Almost like it¡¯s asking me to confirm the targets as me and the coin. I nod to myself in confirmation.

    Magic flickers, and then everything does. I blink in surprise as the world suddenly shifts to a slightly different perspective. The door¡¯s a little closer, and I¡¯m definitely not submerged in water any more. I reach down and feel my skin, which is still wet, and push myself to my feet with a frown.

    ¡°I thought that was going to be a lot more discombobulating.¡± I muse and shake my hair out of my eyes. ¡°That was just¡­ fine.¡±

    Illumisia burbles out a laugh and pops her head clear out of the water. ¡°They are your spells, system-born. If they made you uncomfortable or unable to do anything, they would be very much useless. Though I suppose mana overuse can lead to horrific sensations. And you did overdraw on awareness. But the point holds that your spells should never harm you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that¡¯ll definitely hold true.¡± I chuckle and make my way back to the bath, lower myself into the water, and finally completely submerge myself. I¡¯ve got twenty-five minutes left, and I¡¯m going to make the most of every one of them.

    <hr>

    ¡°It looks like you found that change of clothes I left you.¡± The old Ogean woman sitting out on the patio that doubles as the bathhouse¡¯s front room says with a smile. ¡°They look good on you, sugar.¡±

    I mirror her smile and pat the loose-fitting orange shirt with my palm. ¡°Thanks for that. I left the money for them in my locker.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t do this for pay, sugar. But thank you anyway. The next few times you come here is on me.¡± The woman takes a long pipe out of her mouth and gestures at Illumisia with it. ¡°For both you and your painted dane.¡±

    ¡°Much appreciated.¡± I say with a wave, then pause before I can well and truly leave. ¡°Hey, can you tell me where the Castlefoot district is? I¡¯m supposed to meet some people there.¡±

    The old woman raises an eyebrow, but gestures me over to her anyway. ¡°Of course I can, sugar. Castlefoot¡¯s where all the tourists go¨Ccares more about style than substance, but I can¡¯t hold it against them. They were the nothing district before the aggressive rebranding. Do you have a map in your Class Card?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°The system didn¡¯t give me one.¡±

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Ooh, one of those classes, huh?¡± The woman laughs and summons a business card and a pen with a wave of her hand. ¡°I know what that¡¯s like, but you humans usually get the good classes. Ones that start off with primary attributes instead of having to earn them.¡±

    That catches my attention. ¡°You can earn primary attributes?¡±

    ¡°You can, but only once. You go to the place the system tells you, complete whatever trial it gives you, and then it gives you a real class.¡± She says as she scribbles down some directions, then hands me the card. ¡°Here you go, sugar. Take a right out of here, then watch out for the big signs with the pictures I drew for you and take the turns you need. Hopefully I didn¡¯t write anything that you can¡¯t read.¡±

    I accept the card and flip it over from the bathhouse¡¯s information, revealing a very detailed set of lines and symbols. With things above the lines that I can¡¯t read for shit.

    ¡°Sorry, but are these numbers?¡± I point at a symbol above one line that looks like an ¡®S¡¯ made of triangles. ¡°I can¡¯t read them.¡±

    The old woman leans in, then nods. ¡°They are, but you shouldn¡¯t need them, sugar. Just follow each street until you see the sign I drew, then take the turn as designated by the arrow. Oh, and be a little careful using your Class Card out in the open. We¡¯re a generally safe city, but it¡¯s never smart to make yourself anything close to an easier target.¡±

    I smirk and gesture at myself. ¡°Being human probably doesn¡¯t help with that, but I¡¯ll do my best not to look like an easy mark. Illumisia here is probably the biggest deterrent I could walk around with, though.¡±

    ¡°Mm¡­ alright, sugar, if you say so.¡± The woman shrugs, then waves me off with thick fingers. ¡°If your painted dane is stronger than you are, then you¡¯ve got far more problems than showing off your Class Card.¡±

    ¡°Noted. Thanks for the directions, and thanks again for the clothes and bath. I might not be able to read your language, but I know when someone¡¯s giving me a screaming deal.¡±

    The old woman laughs out loud as I walk away, taking the price board she¡¯d hidden as I first walked up and setting it up right next to her. My bath with all the bells and whistles was supposed to be fifteen Worth, and from the price tags on the clothes, they were at least another fifty in total. Not sure if that¡¯s a fair price for a flowy orange shirt, underwear and a bra that fit surprisingly comfortably, and a pair of white pants that are like a mixture of pajama pants and jeans. I¡¯ve still got my own sandals, which have held up surprisingly well for everything I¡¯ve put them through.

    ¡°You must have a bevy of problems considering how many times more powerful I am than you.¡± Illumisia snickers. ¡°If my disguise was good enough to fool that woman and the guards at the gates, I am confident nobody will see through it. Even still, it was quite amusing to be considered the weakest part of your arsenal.¡±

    I roll my eyes, even though I completely agree with everything Illumisia just said. Then I pause just long enough for whoever¡¯s walking behind me to scoff in annoyance. I wait for them to go around until they¡¯re out of earshot, then shoot Illumisia a glance.

    ¡°That woman was powerful? I didn¡¯t feel anything.¡±

    Illumisia raises an eyebrow. ¡°Yes, which is what she wanted you to feel. Obviously.¡±

    ¡°Save the insults and give me an explanation, please.¡±

    She snorts and rolls her eyes right back at me. ¡°Politeness on the end of a request does not supersede the rudeness it began with. But very well; the woman emanates a sensation that I associate with those between clearance levels forty-five and fifty. And that is with whatever cloaking she is doing; she could very well be even stronger, and all I can sense is that which escapes her barrier.¡±

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a scary thought.¡± I say as we pass a couple of the scaly-people, who both give me strange looks. Because I¡¯m talking to myself. Right. ¡°How would she compare to you?¡± I continue in barely a whisper. ¡°And what about the Horizonguard?¡±

    ¡°I will let you figure that out for yourself. It is no fun if I just spell everything out for you, is it?¡±

    ¡°Fun doesn¡¯t matter when my life¡¯s on the line.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a very good thing that your life is nowhere near on the line at the moment. The system cannot do anything directly to you anymore, you have the choice of which quests you accept, and you have not made a name for yourself. You are an unknown. Anonymity is by far the best way to keep yourself safe.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but how long will that last?¡± I stick my hands in my deep pockets as the first sign¨Ca cup with a pair of sticks inside of it¨Csignals me to go right. ¡°Sure, I could sit around and do nothing, but what happens when the system gives me another ultimatum? I don¡¯t want to get caught on my ass and scramble just like I did. Things managed to work out, but they almost didn¡¯t. Many times.¡±

    I glance up at the sky, and I can almost feel the seaside air caress my face. ¡°I don¡¯t want to live in constant fear, Illumisia. If anything, I want the system to live in constant fear of me.¡±

    Pain lances down my right arm. I grit my teeth and force myself to keep walking, but if anyone was paying attention to me, they definitely noticed it. Damn health potion rebound and it¡¯s damn¡­ pain. Damn brain not working great through the damn pain.

    ¡°Are you handling it just fine?¡± Illumisia asks casually. ¡°You had a very large hole in your arm and a lot of lacerations. The pain must be quite uncomfortable.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m handling it.¡± I say through grit teeth. ¡°This isn¡¯t the worst it¡¯s been. And it¡¯ll go away in a few minutes. Just gotta¡­ grin and bear with it until then.¡±

    I glance down a well-lit alleyway, then nod towards it for Illumisia to follow me. She raises an eyebrow but doesn¡¯t say anything, and joins me in the safe-ish embrace of two buildings. When I open my Class Card she nods to herself, then turns around so she can watch the street for me.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I grind out. ¡°Just gotta do this before I forget.¡±

    The free stat upgrade goes right into Soul¨Cputting me at an even ten. I sneak out the last stat coin and flip it as discreetly as possible, then start to press the coin against my screen. But something stops me. A little voice in the back of my head that screams about how much more this coin costs than one of the under-five coins. And how my Fate is definitely not at five just yet. Instead of putting the coin into my Fate, I shove it into my pocket instead.

    ¡°Hey, what¡¯re you doing?¡±

    I look up and see a small scaly-person staring at me from the other end of the hallway. With bright, curious eyes that are locked on my system. ¡­A kid. That¡¯s what they¡¯re called, not small people. Non-humans have kids too, Shelby¨Cdon¡¯t forget that.

    ¡°Just checking something.¡± I say without smiling. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, kid.¡±

    Instead of walking away, the kid decides to get even closer to me. ¡°You have a class? What¡¯s it like? Can you cast spells? What about stats¨Cdo you actually get stronger just by pushing a button?¡±

    I send my Class Card away before the kid can get close enough to touch it. He¨Cat least I think the kid is a he¨Cstops dead in his tracks, goes pale, and starts to back away.

    ¡°Sorry, but I don¡¯t really have time to chat.¡± I apologize and turn around, only to come face-to-back with Illumisia. Who has grown about five times bigger in the last thirty seconds. ¡°Whoah. Hey, Illumisia, what¡¯s wrong? We¡¯re trying to be discreet, remember?¡±

    She growls deep and low, sending a rumble through the stone that brings with it a sense of deadly fear. One that I shake off with a sigh, but from the sound of the kid¡¯s footsteps, it scared him enough to sprint off.

    ¡°Is there someone behind this thing?!¡± A voice calls out from beyond Illumisia. ¡°Call off your dog!¡±

    I don¡¯t recognize the voice, but there¡¯s a little familiarness to it. Almost a¡­ growl, deep beneath the words.

    ¡°Can¡¯t do that, sorry.¡± I reply and pat Illumisia on the butt. ¡°You must¡¯ve done something to piss her off. Stop doing whatever it is, and she might back down.¡±

    The words catch in the unknown person¡¯s voice and come out as a terrified squeak. ¡°Might?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, might. Depends on how badly you pissed her off.¡± I chuckle and flick a ghost quarter down at the ground, then jump as a shield ramp appears below my feet. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen her get this angry at anything before, so whatever you did must¡¯ve been¡­¡±

    It¡¯s my turn to get my words stuck in my throat when I walk to the top of the ramp and finally see the face behind the voice. It doesn¡¯t even take a second to recognize where I¡¯ve seen something like them before; after all, I¡¯m standing on quite possibly the most powerful one to ever exist.

    Seeing a humanoid painted dane was definitely not on my bingo card for today.

 Chapter 43: Others

    The humanoid painted dane shrinks away in fear, their shark-like tail tucked between their legs as their Illumisia-like eyes trace along the ground. Illumisia¡¯s growl seeps into my bones, and even though she isn¡¯t speaking, I feel her disbelief and anger radiating off of her like a miniature sun.

    ¡°The system did this to my people. Those other painted danes¡­ they were just¡­ afterthoughts.¡± She says quietly¨Ca stark comparison to the guttural hate she¡¯s projecting outwards. ¡°The other painted danes did not deserve this. They did not fight for this. Bleed for this. Put their very lives on the line for this.¡±

    She takes a step forward, and I have to hurry to her head to stop her. ¡°Hey, hey. I know you¡¯re pissed, but killing someone in broad daylight doesn¡¯t make up for anything. We¡¯re in civilization now. This¡­ what¡¯s your name, shark-wolf-man?¡±

    ¡°Clutter.¡±

    I almost do a double-take. That sounds like a lie, but from how Clutter appears to be pissing himself in fear, I don¡¯t think his brain¡¯s got the ability to lie right now. ¡°Clutter isn¡¯t worth messing everything up. You don¡¯t know the story¨Chell, he probably doesn¡¯t even know the story. They could¡¯ve actually earned this somehow. So let¡¯s get the real truth before we jump to deadly conclusions, yeah?¡±

    Illumisia growls deep and long, but I can hear the grumbling acceptance underneath it. And in that acceptance, there¡¯s a tinge of relief. I can¡¯t explain that part at all, but I can extort it out of the giant shark-wolf.

    I lean into her ear to make sure nobody overhears us. ¡°You¡¯re going to explain why you just felt relieved, and you¡¯re also going to explain why I could feel that you were relieved. And you¡¯re going to actually do it because I¡¯m going to have to do a shitload of talking to get us out of this to keep your cover intact.¡±

    She just nods in agreement. Which¡­ really surprises me. I was expecting to have to fight her at least a little to get the truth. I let out a breath of relief and slide down the side of Illumisia¡¯s neck, then land with a placid expression and offer a closed-mouth regretful smile to the still scared shitless Clutter.

    ¡°Sorry for that. She¡¯s not used to seeing other painted danes, especially not ones that walk on two legs. Can I treat you to lunch as an apology?¡±

    Clutter sucks in a breath, looks up at Illumisia, then starts to shake his head. A growl from my massive companion turns that shake into a nod real quick.

    I open my mouth to show my sharp teeth a little and gesture with my head down the street. ¡°Good. I¡¯ve got just the place in mind.¡±

    <hr>

    I cross my legs and lean back in the wicker-laced stone chair that¡¯s one of many in Whitestone Patio¡¯s outdoor dining area. It¡¯s a damn nice place, but it¡¯s a little disingenuous to call it a restaurant. Since it¡¯s just a cleared part of the walkway with a small building that¡¯s ninety percent kitchen and ten percent ordering window. Like a food booth at a county fair, but upgraded to restaurant status.

    ¡°I can¡¯t read this.¡± I chuckle and slide the menu onto the table, then turn to the Ytocwa who¡¯s taking orders with a notepad. ¡°Bring me something that¡¯s safe for humans to eat and that costs less than ten Worth. And a glass of water. Oh, and get this guy whatever he wants. For less than twenty Worth.¡±

    Clutter flinches a little when I gesture at him, lowering himself to try and hide behind his menu. The Ytocwa raises an eyebrow at him and looks at me a little suspiciously, but I guess that¡¯s the response I should expect. I am pretty much taking him hostage so he can¡¯t go and report us to the guards. Or the police. Or¡­ whatever they call the people that uphold the law here.

    After a long few seconds of silence, the Ytocwa sighs and taps her pen against her notepad. ¡°Sir, I know you might not be used to dealing with humans, but this is rude no matter what species you¡¯re sitting across from. Now, are you going to order, or am I putting this in as a meal for one?¡±

    I offer him an apologetic shrug. ¡°You¡¯re stuck here with me anyway. Might as well get a good meal out of it.¡±

    He looks down at the menu, then up at me, and finally down at Illumisia. Who huffs in annoyance and purposefully looks away from him. Somehow, that convinces him. ¡°I-I¡¯ll have the silverstream pike fried in fat¨Cnot oil¨Cand a side of fries. Do you have undergrowth potatoes?¡±

    The Ytocwa nods and jots down his order. ¡°Good call. The pike¡¯s just at the tail end of in season, and we just got a load of undergrowth in this morning. You want those fried in fat, too?¡±

    Clutter nods shyly. ¡°Yes, please.¡±

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯ll be fifteen for the Paindne and ten for the human, for a total of twenty-five Worth. And two free glasses of water.¡± The Ytocwa reads off their pad, then gestures back to the kitchen. ¡°As you can see we¡¯re not all that busy right now, so if you decide you want more, just call for Ccwre. That¡¯s me¨Cand no, you don¡¯t have to try to replicate the throaty repetition.¡±

    ¡°I definitely won¡¯t.¡± I say with a smile of thanks, then open my palm to reveal thirteen doubled glass lones. Before Ccrwe can say anything, I flick one at them and gesture for them to take a look at it.

    Ccrwe narrows their eyes at me¨Clike I¡¯m a tourist who¡¯s trying to rip them off¨Cbut humors me by pulling out a Class Card of their own. A moment later their eyes light up, and they hold out a hand for me to pour the Worth into.

    ¡°Never seen glass lones like these before. You must¡¯ve run into something impressive on your starter quests.¡± They say as they count the coins, then stuff them into a bag on their hip with a nod. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s your bill settled. Oh, and since we¡¯ve had humans try to do this before, we don¡¯t accept ¡®tips¡¯. The system really doesn¡¯t like that.¡±

    A glass lone appears between their fingers, and they press it down on the table. ¡°Even if it¡¯s only one. So much so that I can¡¯t even put your Worth into the register until I¡¯ve served your food. Now I¡¯ll leave you two alone for whatever pressing business you¡¯ve got going on, and I¡¯ll be back in a minute with your water. Then another five for your food.¡±

    ¡°Thank you very much.¡± I say as Ccrwe walks off, their strange high-heeled claw feet clicking against the stone as they walk. Something keeps me watching them until they knock open a waist-high door with their hip and disappear into the steam of the kitchen. Leaving me and Clutter to talk. ¡°So, Clutter, I¡¯ve got you trapped here with me for five minutes. Once you¡¯ve got your food, you can take it to go or find another table if you want. But if you like what I propose, you can stay around and help me out a little here.¡±

    He tenses up, but actually meets my eyes for the first time since we left the alley. ¡°But I can leave once the food comes?¡±

    ¡°Yup. And you¡¯re already all paid up, so there¡¯s no strings attached.¡± I spread my arms and offer him a closed-mouth smile. ¡°We got off on the wrong foot¨Cobviously¨Cand I thought taking you somewhere hidden would only freak you out a hell of a lot more. So I figured, why not go to the most open place that¡¯s close by instead?¡±

    It¡¯s half a lie, but it seems to resonate with Clutter. He visibly relaxes, but it¡¯s nowhere near enough to call him calm. That¡¯ll never happen with Illumisia lying under my chair and muttering unkind words about the¡­ Paindne. Which is a really weird bastardization of the words Painted Dane, if I had to guess.

    Apparently it¡¯s not enough to get him proactively talking. But it¡¯s enough to get him actively listening.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°I¡¯m new here¨Cwhich you may or may not have figured out¨Cand I need a guide slash informant for this place. Now that doesn¡¯t have to be you, since I don¡¯t know anything about your credentials, but I figured I¡¯d throw you the job offer as an apology for scaring the piss out of you.¡± I lean forward a little, making sure Clutter keeps his eyes on me the entire time. ¡°You smell like magic. More than a little, too¨Cbut not enough to feel like you¡¯re hiding anything. Is that natural for your people, or do you have a class?¡±

    He hesitates for a split second with his face in turmoil, but seems to decide against staying silent. ¡°I¡¯m a scout. I specialized in Body and Fate, and I found you by following one of my skills. It must be why your painted dane reacted so strongly to me¨Cthey¡¯re really good at sensing magic.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, definitely.¡± I agree with a straight face, even as Illumisia laughs her ass off in my head. ¡°Well, Clutter, a scout sounds like just the thing I need. I got my hands on some old-ass texts about this place, and I want to see how much of them ring true. So I need as much info on the different levels of guards, who runs the city, where the best shops are, where to stay away from, and pretty much everything else you can think of. If you¡¯re willing to go the extra mile, I also want to know what the known quest triggers are around here, and which ones are worth going for. Is that doable?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ maybe.¡± He says slowly. ¡°The city is weird¨Cthe higher up you go, the higher clearance you need to be in there. Now I¡¯ve seen this in other cities, sure¨Cbut there it¡¯s enforced by the people that live there. Here it¡¯s enforced by the system itself. You¡¯ve definitely seen how blurry it gets if you try to focus on it, right? That¡¯s the system doing its thing. For some reason.¡±

    Clutter leans forward as his eyes sparkle with curiosity. Looks like the floodgates are open.

    ¡°I¡¯ve only been here six weeks, and I¡¯ve seen so many weird things that never happened anywhere else. Humans like you get summoned here so much more often than the other tutorial cities, and I can¡¯t find a single reason why. The quests are similar, the rewards are similar, and there isn¡¯t more space for them¨CI mean you¨Cto live.¡±

    Interesting. ¡°So, what, you think the system¡¯s corralling us here for some other reason?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± He nods eagerly and vigorously as his tail starts to whap against the legs of his chair. ¡°But I don¡¯t have any proof. Not yet. What you¡¯re asking me to do¡­ maybe I¡¯ll find some real proof while I¡¯m looking for other things. Is there anything really specific you would want me to look for? Or do you want a general sweep of literally everything notable in the city¨Cpeople, places, events¨Cthe whole feeding frenzy?¡±

    I chuckle at his phrasing and nod. ¡°Yup. Do literally everything you can, and report everything you think is even slightly notable. I¡¯ll pay you for every report you make, but only after you¡¯ve made the report. Since the system doesn¡¯t seem to like paying before you get your service.¡±

    ¡°That works for me. It means the first report will be the hardest, since I¡¯ll have to pick up a quest or two while I¡¯m doing it, but it should be doable. Not very¡­ quickly, though. How does three months sound to you?¡±

    Honestly, I have no idea how that sounds. I could get booted back to Earth the second I finish with the thousand Worth, or I might need to get a quest reward that lets me visit home. And in that case, quicker would definitely be better.

    I decide to hedge my bets.¡°Take as much time as you need. Give me some way to contact you, and we¡¯ll figure out where to meet up when you think you¡¯ve got enough information for a report.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I-I think I¡¯ve got something left over from my last job¡­¡± He trails off and pulls out his Class Card, which expands into a simple slab of green light. ¡°Yep, here they are! A system modification chip for long-distance text communication. It, uh, costs one Worth every hundred words¨Cand at least one Worth per message, so don¡¯t overuse it.¡±

    He hands me a small piece of metal with a symbol on it I don¡¯t recognize. It burns my hand like acid, and I feel something wafting off of it that smells like fire and shoves a metallic taste to the back of my mouth. I gag a little, and Clutter goes taut.

    ¡°O-oops. The system d-doesn¡¯t like free things. My last job sold them to me for twenty Worth each.¡± He says, then flinches as I scatter ten doubled glass lones onto the table. ¡°Y-yeah, there it all is. Transaction approved.¡±

    The sensations simply stop. Leaving me with a metal chip that¡¯s neither cold nor warm. I shudder and pull open my Class Card to slot in the chip, then close it instantly when I see it create a new tab.

    ¡°We¡¯ll call that a rookie mistake.¡± I say as pleasantly as I can manage, then look off to the side at the sound of creaking wood and footsteps on stone. ¡°There¡¯s our food. Let¡¯s hash out the details over lunch.¡±

    <hr>

    The food is¡­ fine. A little bland, and the textures are pretty damn close to a war crime, but having anything to shovel into my mouth that isn¡¯t a potion is a godsend. Next time, though, I¡¯ll have to do my own research into what¡¯s safe for humans to eat. Because unseasoned mystery meat cooked until it¡¯s as dry as leather might fill my stomach, but it definitely hurts my soul.

    Especially compared to the magnificence that is Clutter¡¯s lunch. It smells like the greasiest fish and chips joint I¡¯d ever been in back on Earth, except with the wonderful addition of spices and seasonings that I can¡¯t place. They still smell wonderful, and the flaky silver-white flesh of the fish makes me want to chuck my plate of garbage where it belongs and order something much riskier.

    Which I definitely would do if I hadn¡¯t spent Worth on all this. I¡¯m pretty damn confident I¡¯ll still break the thousand threshold when I sell and double the profits from the robots, but every little expense makes that certainty a little shakier.

    ¡°So that¡¯s that, then?¡± I ask after choking down the last bite of tough meat. ¡°You¡¯re happy with the terms, and you know what I want. Anything else we need to go over?¡±

    Clutter wipes the grease off his mouth with one sleeve and shakes his head. He¡¯s only halfway done his feast, but if I have to sit here a second longer, I¡¯m going to bite someone. Or steal his lunch.

    ¡°Nope, nothing I can think of¡­ actually, there might be one thing.¡± He places greasy fingers against the stone table, then pulls them away. Revealing a weirdly shaped mass of squirming¡­ plastic? ¡°I found that in a cave around here. There¡¯s a bunch of them in there, all different colours and shapes, and the system told me there was a quest associated with them. I couldn¡¯t find how to trigger it. Right now I can¡¯t justify taking the time to really look into it, but if you¡¯re willing to pay a little more, I¡¯ll make sure you get the quest when I find out how to start it.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Sounds interesting.¡± I take the plastic thing and roll it around in my fingers. It shapes into a ball from just those few movements, but never once stops squirming. ¡°How¡¯s this; as long as the first report has enough good info in it, you can spend the rest of the time looking into it.¡±

    ¡°That works perfectly!¡± Clutter vigorously agrees. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure the report¡¯s perfect.¡±

    ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± I say slowly as he wipes the grease on his shirt. ¡°You do that. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, it looks like I¡¯ve got something else to deal with. Enjoy your lunch.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm!¡± Clutter says as he takes a massive bite of fried fish, then waves with greasy fingers as I place the plastic on the table and walk away. His tune sure changed quickly, but that¡¯s definitely for the better. If he¡¯d stayed scared and closed off, I could¡¯ve gotten in trouble with the guards. Hell, he¡¯s a Fate class too, so maybe his stat triggered when I started to give him the offer.

    I sigh and shake my head, then put on a pleasant smile as Diane and Razi approach from one of the connecting streets. Fate gets so much more complicated when I think about how many hundreds of thousands of people must be following it every single day.

    ¡°Hey, looks like I got here a lot sooner than expected. So, what do you recommend eating here?¡± I pat my stomach and chuckle resentfully. ¡°Because I just had something that was an assault against flavour.¡±

    Diana stops a little sooner than Razi, who takes two more steps before he does. They¡¯re both in casual clothes this time, and Diane was looking at her system like she¡¯d look at a map. Pretty much confirming what Illumisia told me about non-Worth classes being given way more to start off with.

    ¡°Were you worried about poisoning yourself?¡± Razi asks seriously.

    ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡±

    He chuckles and gestures towards a section of unoccupied tables. ¡°Because we went through much the same when we first arrived. Luckily for us, we found someone who had done extensive research on allergies and human sensitivities to the native flora and fauna. Let us show you what real Palastian food tastes like.¡±

    Diane nods and smiles politely, then hurries on ahead. Razi follows her, and I shoot Clutter a glance before I do the same. He smiles over at me and waves enthusiastically, then goes right back to devouring his meal. My mouth starts to water at the simple thought of eating something that smells that good.

    I wipe the corners of my mouth and lazily follow the two other humans. Surrounded by the sounds of feet on stone and a shark-wolf-person noisily slurping down the peace offering slash bribe that got me a brand new informant.

    Things seem to be moving a lot faster now that I¡¯m not stuck in a series of glass tunnels. I really hope that¡¯s for the best.

 Chapter 44: Another Contract

    ¡°So you won¡¯t buy them.¡±

    I drum my fingers against my forearm as the shopkeep¨Ca Paindne with an eyepiece like a jeweler and a fitted suit¨Cruns his fingers along one of the destroyed robots. He clicks his tongue, then sighs dramatically and pulls a handkerchief out of his breast pocket to clean his hands. Illumisia growls from outside of the store, and he glances over at her for the shortest of split seconds.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. You do not have the right to sell these particular things, and I do not have the right to buy them.¡± He states simply, as if it is an unarguable fact. ¡°Mechanical puppets of this quality are rarities. To buy them for the pittance the system seems to think they are worth¡­ it hurts me as a collector of curiosities.¡±

    Great. I managed to find the one shopkeeper that doesn¡¯t want to rip me off. ¡°Alright. Say I don¡¯t want them. Point me to somewhere that has way more flexible morals than you do.¡±

    The shopkeep looks appalled at my suggestion. ¡°No! I can¡¯t allow you to do that¨Cnot with these mechanical marvels. I¨CI¡¯ll tell you what, let me get my friend down here quick as can be. She runs a lab in another district that studies post-shellraiser machines such as these, and I assure you she will properly compensate you for your findings. Even if they are a little¡­ beat up.¡±

    I hold back a laugh as the Paindne gingerly picks up a metallic arm with gloved hands. An arm that I almost shattered by pushing the robot into a wall. The way he so daintily touches it, as if blowing on the robot would send it scattering to the wind¡­ it¡¯s honestly pretty amusing.

    ¡°He¡¯s touching it like it¡¯s some kind of treasure. Can¡¯t he see that it¡¯s pure trash?¡± Pearl mutters to herself. ¡°Post-shellraiser. That¡¯s an insult to everything we¡¯ve ever built.¡±

    ¡°Hey, this might mean I get more Worth for them. And I see that as an absolute win.¡± I whisper as quietly as I can as the shopkeep gently sets the arm down and hurries off into a back office. ¡°The less I have to worry about meeting that thousand Worth mark, the better. Even if it means setting some researcher¡¯s work back a few decades by letting them study this garbage.¡±

    Pearl harrumphs and crosses her arms. ¡°More like a few centuries.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say; you¡¯re the expert.¡±

    A hushed voice seeps out of the back office. Pearl and I both go quiet at the same time, and I press my elbows to the glass case underneath me to lean in. It¡¯s definitely not the shopkeep¡¯s voice; it¡¯s tired, a little excited, and more than a little reluctant to believe whatever he¡¯s telling her. It sounds like there¡¯s a history between the two; one that involves a very overeager shopkeep and a researcher who¡¯s dropped everything to come see the ¡®valuable artifacts¡¯ more than a few times.

    ¡°...Fine. I¡¯ll be there in a minute. But this better not be another blotmarsh situation.¡± The researcher reluctantly agrees. ¡°And my funding is tight for the month. If this is worth it, you¡¯re not getting your finder¡¯s fee.¡±

    ¡°I know. But I can¡¯t just let the young human walk away to sell the machines for scrap.¡± The shopkeep says, then pauses. ¡°...Nibble? Did you hang up on me?¡±

    After a few moments of silence, he clears his throat. ¡°Why, yes, Nibble, I will wait here with the human. She will be delighted to see you. No, no, thank you for your time. I am merely the middleman here; no need for such praise. Yes, of course, I will see you in a moment.¡±

    Pearl snickers as the shopkeep ends his call with a quiet beep, then strolls back into the main shop with his chest puffed out and his pride artificially intact. He takes one look at my smirk and coughs, then gestures at the door where Illumisia stands guard with her hackles raised.

    ¡°...I probably should have warned my colleague about the painted dane. Oh, well; there is nothing I can do about it now. She is on her way, and she has more than enough Worth to properly compensate you for your donations.¡±

    Riiight. Does this guy really not know that we overheard a bunch of his conversation? I mean, we were just outside of his door. One that he didn¡¯t even close when he started the call. It¡¯d take a real moron to not realize at some point.

    A horrific growl rips free of Illumisia¡¯s throat. It¡¯s met with a terrified scream, doors being thrown open, and the heavy breathing of a Paindne woman in a simple outfit underneath an oil-stained lab coat as she catches her breath from being scared to hell and back. Two teeth hang from a silver string around her neck, each encased in a clear resin that sparkles when it catches even the slightest bit of light.

    ¡°Lords and ladies, warn a girl next time!¡± She says through deep breaths that seemingly do nothing to calm her. ¡°If there¡¯s a wild painted dane on the loose in the district, I need to know that before I use magic to come here!¡±

    The shopkeep shrugs effortlessly. ¡°Don¡¯t blame me; I didn¡¯t even know it was there.¡±

    I shoot him a look that could curdle milk, but he doesn¡¯t even blink. Then I turn the glare into a pleasant closed-mouth smile and offer the researcher a hand.

    ¡°Sorry about that. Illumisia doesn¡¯t really like Paindne, apparently. The name¡¯s Shelby¨Chow about you?¡±

    She eyes my hand for a second, then clasps it eagerly. ¡°Nibble. But you can call me Nib¨Cit sounds a lot less childish. Give me a few seconds for my heart to start beating right again, and then we can get down to business.¡±

    I nod a little as I help her steady herself. ¡°No problem. If you¡¯re the one that¡¯s going to help me get past the thousand Worth threshold, I¡¯ll wait all day. But, uh, no more than that. Time limits, you know?¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Ah, time limits. The eternal plight of everyone with a Class.¡± She chuckles lightly and pulls a folding chair out of her inventory, which she promptly unfolds and falls into. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, are you on your first visit here? Or are you starting to make this world your home away from home?¡±

    ¡°First visit still.¡±

    ¡°Oh, really? You have a¡­ confident air about you that usually only comes with repeaters. Candy?¡±

    She offers me a colourful piece of waxy paper wrapped around something spherical. I accept it without thinking, and that seems to make her smile for some reason. Another pops into her hand, and she pulls on both ends of the wax paper to reveal a pure white sphere in the middle. She bends down and licks it out of the paper, then stuffs the paper in her pocket.

    ¡°It¡¯s good.¡± She assures me with what looks like a genuine smile. ¡°I make it in my spare time. Oh, do you like mint? I¡¯ve met a lot of humans that either love mint or hate it due to a flavor of toothpaste that is common on your planet.¡±

    ¡°Love it.¡± I assure her as I follow her motions exactly to extract the candy from its wrapper, down to stuffing it in my pocket at the end. The thing is so minty that it makes my eyes water, but it¡¯s horrifically refreshing at the same time. ¡°It¡¯s a little strong.¡±

    Nib laughs and pats my forearm. ¡°Our tastebuds aren¡¯t quite as strong as yours, so our flavors are either way more intense or way blander. There¡¯s no inbetween, I¡¯ve been told. But I can¡¯t hear my blood in my ears any more, so that means it¡¯s time to get down to business.¡±

    The shopkeep eagerly rubs his hands together. ¡°Perfect! Do you need me to do anything?¡±

    ¡°No. Just stand there and look presentable.¡± Nib says kindly, then gestures for me to put a robot in her lap. ¡°First thing¡¯s first¨Cthey have to withstand the move test. If they disintegrate the second I touch them, they aren¡¯t worth studying. We¡¯ve already got plenty of those back at the¨C¡±

    I grab one of the scap hunks and dump it in her lap without a second thought. It stops her mid-sentence, and she looks up at me like I¡¯ve got two heads. But then she looks down at the robot. Which is exactly as destroyed as the moment I destroyed it, and nothing more.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ holding its shape.¡± She says with disbelief. ¡°Even after the traumatic movement you just did, nothing has fallen off. Except for the battle damage that I assume you found it with?¡±

    ¡°Uh, no. I¡¯m the battle that damaged it.¡±

    Her eyes and smile noticeably brighten. ¡°Even better! That means they were combat ready just a few short days ago. These¡­ are they all like this? Barring whatever damage you inflicted on them to render them inert, I mean.¡± She sits up straighter to study the bots on the counter, then lets out an excited hum. ¡°This is perfect. We have a wonderful example of actual shellraiser machinery back at the lab, but these functional replicas of questionable quality never show up in this good condition. I¡¯ll give you five hundred Worth for the lot.¡±

    Pearl laughs out loud at Nib¡¯s offer. I stick out my hand before she can repeal it and offer me way less. ¡°You¡¯ve got a deal.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful! Here.¡± She pulls out a stone card that looks exactly like everything else in Palastia. ¡°This should have just enough to cover the transaction. And if you ever¨Cand I mean ever¨Crun into anything like this ever again, please don¡¯t hesitate to contact me. I¡¯ll even give you my personal Class Card contact so we don¡¯t need to use a middle man.¡±

    The shopkeep clears his throat. ¡°That middle man can hear you.¡±

    We both ignore him. I tap my Class Card to Nib¡¯s stone one and nod as the Worth rolls in, then pocket it as I swipe away the notification for my level up. Another one appears right after, and before I can ignore this one, I catch a little of its contents in the corner of my eye.

    Quest Update: Forgeries Made In Shell

    You have recruited a researcher with promises of technology and secrets.

    Further involving her will make her aware of this quest. If you do not wish for this to happen, do not further your relationship with her.

    Quest progress on the robots, huh? That¡¯s probably cool. I don¡¯t really want to share the rewards with anyone else, though, so maybe I¡¯ll have to think twice about involving Nib in this. But that¡¯s a problem for months down the line when she actually gets some results. Maybe. Probably not. I¡¯m way too lazy to do all that research on my own¨Cespecially in a language I can¡¯t read. I¡¯ll be the boots on the ground, and Nib can be the eyes locked on the books.

    ¡°Hey, Nib, can you tell me if you find anything useful?¡± I ask as I move to leave the store. ¡°I¡¯m not as invested in the tech as you are, but I¡¯d like to know the story behind whatever I bring you.¡±

    ¡°Sure, no problem.¡± Nib agrees easily, then frowns. ¡°Actually, one problem. My contract is really lenient, but it explicitly states I can¡¯t bring sensitive information outside of the university. If you¡¯re willing to come visit the lab, then I can tell you everything in person. Does that work?¡±

    I nod and shoot her a toothy smile. She tilts her head in curiosity, but doesn¡¯t actually say anything.

    ¡°It works perfectly for me. Shoot me a message if you ever find anything out, and we¡¯ll set a date. See you whenever.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. See you whenever.¡± She repeats with mild confusion at my choice of words.

    I push open the door, then pat Illumisia on the head before she can get kill-y. ¡°She¡¯s useful. Just like Clutter. Why do you have such a hate-on for them?¡±

    ¡°Genetics.¡± Illumisia growls. ¡°And something far more complex that the system will undoubtedly censor. It also seems like you will be leaving us soon enough. Do you know for how long?¡±

    I snort and shake my head. ¡°I know as much about that as you do. But I¡¯ve got contacts with two people now¨Cis there some way we can do the same?¡±

    ¡°There is no need. When you return, I will know.¡± Illumisia states. ¡°If the system attempts to cheat you once again, I will be there. This I promise you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Illumisia harrumphs, then points her nose at the store entrance that¡¯s overlapping with quite a few buildings. Nobody else even pays it a single second of thought, so it must be exclusive to me. And Illumisia, and Pearl, but I don¡¯t really understand how that works.

    ¡°Are you going straight there, or are you going to attempt to double all of your Worth beforehand?¡±

    I pull at my Worth, and this time, a slightly different coin comes free. Instead of glass, this one is made of simple grey metal. There are five tally marks on one side, and a simple empty pentagon on the other. The system informs me that it¡¯s an Iron Quint, and that it¡¯s worth exactly five glass lones.

    ¡°Well, I suppose that will speed things up significantly.¡± Illumisia notes, then nudges me towards an alleyway. ¡°I will put up a barrier so that you do not expose your skill. Hopefully no children or false descendants will interrupt us this time.¡±

 Chapter 45: Straight to Five

    Current Worth (1712) clears the (1000) Worth threshold for clearance increase.

    Next threshold: (2000) Worth.

    (1) Clearance ticket issued.

    Opening Clearance Shop at your location.

    ¡­¡­

    Clearance Shop already summoned for the previous Worth threshold. Only one can be summoned at a time. Another will not be summoned when this one disappears.

    Total Clearance tickets in your possession: (2). As they are linked to your current clearance, not that of when you earned it, they both have the same purchasing power.

    ¡­¡­

    All requirements met.

    When the time expires, you will have cleared the initialization process.

    Congratulations, Gambler.

    You have survived.

    As the last coin flips through the air, I can¡¯t help but smile down at my screen. Those last two lines feel as sarcastic as plain text can get. It brings me extreme satisfaction to see the system annoyed at my survival, and at the real possibility that I bested its most realistic chance to get rid of me. The infusion of Worth is great, too, but it just doesn¡¯t have the same oomph as getting one over a massive magical¡­ A.I.? Spell? Whatever the ¡®system¡¯ actually is.

    ¡°Last one done.¡± I say to Illumisia.

    She nods and lowers the barrier. ¡°It is more than enough, I presume?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Take a look for yourself.¡± I flip my screen around for her to see. She grows a little so her head is at the right height before her eyes start to scan the text. ¡°I¡¯ve got seven hundred Worth to spend before I get under the threshold. You have any suggestions?¡±

    ¡°Buy the Soul threshold skill. The sooner you have it, the quicker you will be able to upgrade or evolve it. After that¡­ I would recommend buying each first-tier stat point you still have left. They are relatively inexpensive, and will be a better investment than nearly anything you could afford.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow in surprise, but take in her suggestions all the same. ¡°Alright. If I do that, I¡¯ll have¡­ 1137 Worth left. Is there anything good I can get for that much?¡±

    Illumisia shrugs. ¡°You can ask the shopkeeper. It is their job to know how much everything costs. All I can recommend is stocking up on items clearly meant to aid beginners¨Clike those stat upgrades that cost far less, but only work on a stat of five or lower.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ three coins for Body, two for Mind, and another two for Fate.¡± I list as I walk out of the alley and towards the door that¡¯s superimposed itself over another shop¡¯s window. ¡°That¡¯ll probably eat up a good chunk of my clearance tickets. Unless this store is like Gil¡¯s, and they have pre-made packages for me. That¡¯d be annoying.¡±

    ¡°I did not get to meet Gil. I would like to¡­ remedy this next time.¡± Illumisia licks her lips and grins. ¡°He intrigues me.¡±

    Pearl must¡¯ve spun some kind of story about Gil to Illumisia, because I really don¡¯t remember anything about him being that interesting. Except for his store, but that¡¯s system-approved. Which¡­ actually, knowing what I know now about Worth classes, that is kind of interesting.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see if I can bring you in next time. I¡¯ve got a few more questions I¡¯d like to ask myself. But now¡­¡± I wrap my fingers around the door handle and shoot Illumisia a toothy grin. ¡°Be a good guard dog and keep me safe from the scary Paindne.¡±

    She huffs indignantly, but I slip through the door before she can say anything else. This time it looks like a high-end accessories boutique, complete with purses, watches, dangly earrings, and all other sorts of accessories that I can¡¯t imagine myself wearing in a world like this. And masks. So many elegant and expensive-looking masks. The shopkeep¡¯s wearing a really simple half-mask on the top of her face, styled with flowing lines and half-circles painted in gold and decorated with sparkling blue gems. She glances over at me from her other customers for a split second, holds up a single finger for me to wait, then goes back to the heavyset man she¡¯s trying to sell a gemstone-encrusted watch.

    ¡°Ah, shit.¡± I mutter to myself as I gingerly walk around the glassed-in display cases. ¡°This place is way too rich for my Worth. Guess it''s just default clearance ticket items and nothing else this time.¡±

    But it¡¯s good to know something like this can happen. I¡¯d just assumed that everywhere was like Gil¡¯s or Akris¡¯ stores; full of a lot of different options, and with stuff literally anyone can buy. With options like this high-end boutique in the mix, I can¡¯t rely on clearing thresholds to refill my health potion. Hell, this place might not even buy a good chunk of the things I¡¯d bring to sell. I can¡¯t imagine the half-masked woman being very pleased with me dumping a corpse or broken robot on her pristine floors.

    I wait for a dozen minutes¨Cbeing polite and all that¨Cbut the shopkeep doesn¡¯t make a single attempt to talk to me. Now, if this was a real store, I wouldn¡¯t care at all. But I¡¯m on a slightly less than two hour time limit. And she knows. I put on my slimiest smile and cross my arms, then march right up to the counter while elbowing aside the heavy guy and a woman in a dress that¡¯s somehow both elegant and horrifically revealing.

    ¡°Excuse me, but I¡¯m on a time limit here. I know I¡¯m not the kind of clientele you¡¯re probably used to dealing with, so just deal with me for a minute and I¡¯ll get out of your hair.¡± I say with saccharine sweetness and uncross my arms to lean down on the case. ¡°So what do you say? Are you going to help me, or am I going to keep stinking up your precious store?¡±

    The heavy guy side-eyes me with obvious discomfort, and the woman on my other side lets out a quiet gasp. The kind you usually hear with someone saying ¡®my word¡¯ and hiding their mouth with their fingers. Only now do I notice that both of them are wearing masks¨Cthe man¡¯s covers the left side of his face and looks like it has rain imagery, and the woman¡¯s covers from her nose down to her chin with closed mouth silence etched into it. Weird as hell, but I guess I¡¯m in some kind of mask shop.

    And¡­ I can¡¯t tell what species any of them are. They register to me as people, but I can¡¯t place any noticeable features on any of them. The masks must have some kind of anonymity bullshit built into them¡­ just like the Horizonguard. Shit. This place might be a little more dangerous than I thought.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Hey, you don¡¯t just get to waltz in here and be a diva to my customers.¡± The shopkeep plants her hands on her hips and leans in until our noses almost touch. ¡°I know you¡¯re busy, and I know you¡¯re on a time limit, but you ain¡¯t the only one with those problems. Ooh, but I¡¯m so much more special than everyone else, and you have to take my order first!¡± She says sarcastically, then actually nudges my nose with her own. ¡°Tough tongues. Wait your turn, and I¡¯ll get to you before the system kicks you out. If you can¡¯t do that, feel free to leave your tickets on the counter and I¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re reimbursed.¡±

    I¡¯m more than a little taken aback by the shopkeep¡¯s intensity, attitude, voice, choice of words, general mannerisms¡­ pretty much everything about her, actually. From the looks of the two other customers, they¡¯re just as surprised as I am. They quickly mumble some excuses and apologies, then scramble to leave the store without buying the things on the counter.

    The shopkeep watches silently, then grumbles under her breath. ¡°Mute me. Damned customers can¡¯t handle anyone with even an ounce of personality.¡± She turns to me and places one elbow on the counter, then rests her chin on top of her knuckles. ¡°Guess you got what you wanted. Me¨Cand all to yourself. But if you¡¯ve got the clearance the system seems to think you do, then why the hell are you standing in this store?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m asking myself the exact same question.¡± I say flatly. ¡°I¡¯ve got two clearance five tickets, and a hundred Worth I¡¯m free to spend. What¡¯s the best I can get for them?¡±

    ¡°Two clearance five tickets? How¡¯d you manage that at your level?¡± The shopkeep tilts her head to the side and waves my explanation off before I can even start. ¡°Actually, I don¡¯t care. I don¡¯t have anything here for low-levels like you, which means the owner gets screwed out of something more valuable. Personally I don¡¯t give a shit, but my manager¡¯s going to throw the mother of all tantrums.¡±

    ¡°Sorry?¡±

    ¡°Oh, as long as it¡¯s not on my shift, I¡¯m going to love hearing the stories. So we¡¯ll call that a positive.¡± The shopkeep chuckles in anticipation. ¡°But enough of my bitching. I¡¯ve got some masks here that are pretty okay for hiding your identity. Do you know how they work? Oh, who am I kidding, of course you don¡¯t. Alright¨Chere.¡±

    She leans down and pulls a pure white full-face mask from inside the glass case and sets it down on the counter. I grab it and hold it up, expecting some magic to let me see through the solid material, but nope. It¡¯s exactly the slab of white stone that it looks like.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be royally pissed if I spend two tickets on a useless mask.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t useless. And it¡¯s worth a hell of a lot more than two damn tickets.¡± The shopkeep snatches the mask from my hand and flips it around, then gestures where the eyes would go. ¡°This is an alternate self mask. When you put it on, people will think you¡¯re a completely separate person¨Cbut you don¡¯t get anonymity. They see you as the person in the mask when you wear the mask, and the person not wearing the mask when you take it off.¡±

    I cross my arms again and raise an eyebrow. ¡°So it¡¯s just a disguise.¡±

    The shopkeep sighs in exasperation. ¡°Sure, call it that if you want. But it¡¯s a disguise that works perfectly¨Cnobody can see through it, nobody can find out your ¡®true identity¡¯, and nobody will ever associate you with the person in the mask. But they¡¯ll recognize your mask as a brand new person, independent from you, but definitely not anonymous. Hell, you can¡¯t even tell what species I am. That¡¯s how good they work.¡±

    ¡°...Yeah, I guess so.¡± I say reluctantly. ¡°But a mask without any holes, and without any magic to see through it, is pretty much useless. No matter how ¡®impressive¡¯ the magic worked into it is. And why would I care about being seen as ¡®the woman with the mask¡¯ instead of me? I don¡¯t plan on going on a crime spree.¡±

    ¡°Just¡­ think about it for a second. You could effectively live two lives; one that¡¯s super dangerous, and the other that¡¯s completely safe. I don¡¯t think I have to convince you on how important that can be to anyone with a Class. And yeah, buying the blank mold on its own is usually a thousand Worth, but I¡¯ll give it to you for those two clearance tickets. And I¡¯ll even throw in a word with someone who carves it into a real mask for free.¡±

    She sets it down on the counter once again. I look deep into her eyes¨Cones that are still filled with emotion, but that I can¡¯t make out at all. All I can see is her mask.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯m not getting anything else out of this, anyway.¡± I cede and summon both of my tickets, which I slide over to her. When she goes to grab them, I don¡¯t let go. ¡°Unless you¡¯ve got some under five stat coins lying around?¡±

    ¡°Mrrgh.¡± She glances over to a door marked ¡®employees only¡¯, then stomps off and throws it open. Not a minute later she comes right back with a fistful of coins, dumps them into the mask, and pushes it at me. ¡°They¡¯re pretty much worthless anyway, so just take ¡®em and screw off. Oh, and wherever you are¨Cdon¡¯t come back here with that face unless the system does it. I¡¯m putting you on the ¡®don¡¯t serve¡¯ list.¡±

    I take the mask and all the coins inside and offer her a sincere smile. ¡°Thanks, whoever you are. You won¡¯t see me again.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tease me.¡± She sighs, but offers me a small wave anyway. She turns away and mutters something under her breath that I can¡¯t hear, then laughs lightly. ¡°Don¡¯t misuse the mask. My contact will rip my head off if I refer a criminal to him.¡±

    ¡°Like I said; don¡¯t plan any crime sprees.¡± I say as I shoulder open the door and stumble out into the street, mask and coins jingling happily together.

    Illumisia raises both of her eyebrows when she sees what I have. ¡°A face-shaped stone and a good amount of stat coins. Is that really all you have to show for your¡­ hold on a moment. That isn¡¯t just any stone.¡± She stands all at once and presses her face to my mask. ¡°And it appears to be of extremely high quality as well. The system would not send you to a place where you could get this if it was the only store available.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe it just sent me somewhere random.¡± I say with a shrug, but my mind gets drawn back to the sensation the shopkeep gave off. One that was nearly perfectly mirrored by the Horizonguard. ¡°The Horizonguard had a helmet that gave off the same feeling as the mask. Do you think she could¡¯ve influenced the system somehow?¡±

    ¡°It is¡­ possible. Extremely unlikely, sure, but possible¨Cif the Horizonguard has control over the city, and the system attempts to pull from the city¡¯s stores in the first place¡­ but that would require powers¡­¡± Illumisia shakes her head and pulls away from the mask. ¡°No. I suppose your explanation of raw, dumb luck will have to suffice.¡±

    Pearl yawns and smacks her lips. ¡°Sorry, I dozed off a little there¨Cwhat are we talking about? Did Shelby double all of her Worth yet?¡±

    ¡°Doubled all of it and spent both my clearance tickets. You missed a lot.¡±

    ¡°Aw, I wanted to see you haggle with someone again. Did you at least get something good?¡±

    I raise the mask and coins for her to see. ¡°I¡¯d like to think I did.¡±

    ¡°Nice! So, um, what now? Do you still have Worth to spend?¡±

    ¡°Definitely. Just gotta do this.¡± I take one stat coin and flip it, then push it into my system. The points go right into Fate¨Cbringing it to five¨Cand I don¡¯t get a popup. ¡°Oh. I guess I don¡¯t get a threshold skill for every stat. Might as well buy the Soul one, then.¡±

    I swipe over to my skills tab and scroll down to the bunch of question marks with a ¡®Soul five¡¯ requirement right next to it. When I hover over it a prompt appears with a Worth cost of five hundred, and I falter for a second. It¡¯s one thing to think about spending so much Worth, but actually pressing the button to make it happen¡­ it¡¯s way harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I¡¯m only three hundred Worth away from the next threshold.

    If I wasn¡¯t so close to the timer running out, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be doing this right now. But I don¡¯t exactly know what¡¯s going to happen when it hits zero. I could get given another quest, or nothing could happen at all, or I could get sent right back to Earth. If option one or two happens, then I¡¯ll wish I saved the Worth. But if option three happens¡­ I don¡¯t know if the system will let me spend Worth on Earth. And, I mean, if I get to stay here, then I¡¯ll make up the five hundred Worth eventually.

    There¡¯s really no reason to wait. But the hardest person in the world to convince of something is myself.

 Chapter 46: Home.

    ¡°Shelby? What¡¯s the holdup?¡± Pearl asks. ¡°Are you having second thoughts?¡±

    ¡°Second and third thoughts, actually.¡± I chuckle, but force my finger down to confirm the purchase anyway. It has to happen eventually. ¡°Well, as long as I don¡¯t go under a thousand Worth, I guess I¡¯ll be fine. Let¡¯s see how this works.¡±

    Purchase in progress¡­

    Purchase complete. Skill (Shellborn Aggregate) exchanged for (500) Worth.

    Shellborn Aggregate: Force a spell to evolve into its coinbound variation. If it did not previously have a coinbound variation, one is created for the spell.

    Cooldown: 30 days.

    Evolution Requirements: Have (5) coinbound spells ready to evolve at the same time.

    Turning any spell into a coinbound spell sounds¡­ pretty damn overpowered, honestly. Especially if my teleport spell wouldn¡¯t normally have the option to go coinbound. Hell, even in the worst case scenario this skill will save me a good chunk of Worth and a lot of trial and error.

    ¡°Shellborn Aggregate. Huh. That doesn¡¯t sound like it should do what it does.¡± Pearl muses. ¡°Unless the word ¡®Aggregate¡¯ has a different meaning on Earth?¡±

    I¡­ don¡¯t have an answer for that. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t even know what the word means. I¡¯m guessing it isn¡¯t ¡®turn something into something else¡¯?¡±

    It¡¯s Illumisia¡¯s turn to shake her head. ¡°The term usually refers to a singular whole made from many separate other things. Though there are other definitions, none of them seem to apply to this new skill. Unless you stretch your perception and view all coinbound spells as one unified mass.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that doesn¡¯t sound right.¡± I agree and activate my new skill. A menu appears out of thin air with room for many different selections, but there¡¯s only one right now; Relocation. I press on it and feel my skill trickle out of me into my Class Card, where it takes hold on the spell and forcibly evolves it.

    Coinbound Relocation

    Evolution Requirements: ???

    Progress: ???/???

    Designate an object or person by touching a coin to them. Triggering this spell again causes the designated target and the coin used to cast this spell to trade locations. Fails if the coin¡¯s Worth plus your Soul is less than the target¡¯s Soul(if it has one), or it¡¯s Worth(if it does not). Consenting targets always succeed, regardless of Soul disparity.

    This one feels a lot more different compared to my other coinbound spells. Now I have to physically touch the coin to something that I want to teleport, reactivate the spell after designating something to teleport, and it can only teleport something with the coin I use to cast the spell. It¡¯s rife with downsides¨Cthat¡¯s for sure¨Cbut there¡¯s no way it¡¯s as simple as it seems. Maybe I should¡¯ve played around with plain relocation before I turned it coinbound, just to have another point of reference.

    ¡°That is monstrous.¡±

    I frown and look over at Illumisia, who has taken her place with her paws over my shoulders. She actually looks¡­ impressed by the spell. Which definitely means I¡¯m missing something. I go right back to studying the description, even flipping back to the regular relocation¡¯s archive to see the difference, but I just can¡¯t see what makes this one ¡®monstrous¡¯. Sure, there¡¯s no more distance modifier for the Worth and mana, which is pretty big, but definitely not monstrous.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll bite.¡± I sigh and gesture at my screen. ¡°What¡¯s so special about this one?¡±

    Illumisia chuckles and shakes her head. ¡°With this new wording, as long as I consent to it, you can teleport me for one single Worth. Me. Relocation before this upgrade would cost you thousands of Worth just to move me a few meters. Now, as long as you have the coin in the location you desire, it will only cost you one Worth.¡±

    ¡°But I still need to physically touch you. Plus, spells don¡¯t last forever in the coins I put them in¨Ceven less so if they¡¯re skeletons.¡± I pull out a skeletal ghost quarter and flip it through my knuckles for emphasis. It snaps in two when it gets to my pinky. ¡°I¡¯m not arguing that it¡¯s better than regular relocation¨Call the coinbound spells have been¨Cbut it doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯s worth the title of ¡®monstrous¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Then we will simply have to agree to disagree.¡± Illumisia states matter-of-factly. ¡°Now come, the both of you. We are garnering too much attention, and we have to prepare for the off chance that something horrible happens between now and when the system-born¡¯s timer reaches zero.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as Illumisia gets off my shoulders and starts walking in a seemingly random direction. ¡°What about the mask? I should probably go back and ask how I can contact the person who¡¯ll make it usable.¡±

    ¡°There is no need. If they are skilled enough to make masks akin to the Horizonguard¡¯s, they will not contact you for days. It will most likely be months to years until that slab of stone can be transformed into something more wieldy. Though pressing it to your face will still garner the same results as if it were already carved. Use it if you see the need.¡±

    I shoot a glance over at Pearl, who just shrugs when her awareness feels my intent. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me¨CI¡¯ve never worked with that stuff. I¡¯ve fought people wearing them, sure, but the way we¡¯re made¨Cshellraisers, I mean¨Ckind of messes with the magic in the masks. People wouldn¡¯t know who we were, but they still knew we were shellraisers. And we could already do that just by shifting around our gooey bodies.¡±

    ¡°So my amazing second-life mask is an amazing hunk of solid rock for the foreseeable future.¡± I sigh and send it into my inventory.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Then¡­ I pause for a second. I¡¯ve got four black-bordered slots. One for Pearl, and three for the shellraiser devices. But that means I can¡¯t take the power core, and now the mask, back to Earth with me. Something tells me that the beacon and power core will be more important than almost anything else, so they need one slot. And the mask could keep me safe from those two people who pushed me towards the coin, and anyone else who¡¯d want to kill me for coming back from this world.

    Suddenly I¡¯m down to one free slot. I pull open my Class Card as I follow Illumisia, completely ignoring my own advice to be stealthy, and study everything I¡¯ve got. All the potions stand out as things I¡¯m really going to miss when I go back to Earth. Then there¡¯s the set of stamps I still haven¡¯t used. And finally, the three shellraiser devices. Everything else is secondary.

    I mull and despair over the choice while streets and streets pass by under my feet. Eventually I manage to cut the potions out of the deal, since I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ll be back on Earth, and I can only take one of them anyway. Food shouldn¡¯t be an issue, I¡¯ll actually have a safe place to sleep, and there are hospitals. Plus, the monsters back there are handled by elite forces. Not me.

    The set of¡­ stamps? Seals? Whatever they are, they confuse the hell out of me. The system doesn¡¯t give me much of any info when I try to see what they can do, aside from a very short blurb that tells me they are of no use alone. I pull them out and start to fiddle with the box, but the longer I play with them, the less I¡¯m confident they¡¯re useful. Gil sold them to me when I was clearance two, after all; how powerful can they be?

    I flick open the latch with my thumb and open the box. Inside is a six-piece set of small stamps, a bunch of colourless wax, and something that looks like a little bowl with a platform underneath it. Tipping the bowl on the side reveals a small candle underneath, so it must be for warming the wax enough to stamp it. I take one stamp between my fingers and hold it up, but the thing¡¯s just a perfect square of black rubber. Now I¡¯m not an expert, but stamps usually have patterns on them that you¡­ well¡­ stamp with.

    Chainwax Sealing Kit: First Stamp.

    To activate: Pay 35 Worth.

    Oh. I just had to open the box. That¡¯s kind of embarrassing. But, I mean, thirty five Worth is basically nothing for me now. I¡¯ve got a few uses of it, too, so there¡¯s no worry about going below a thousand. I focus on the stamp and swipe over to my Worth, then press the thing against my screen. It absorbs thirty five Worth without my prompting it.

    Rubber starts flying. Chunks of the stamp zip by my face like they were shot out of a cannon, plinking to the stone below and mercifully missing the pedestrians around us. It barely takes a second for something to emerge from the black, and I recognize it immediately; a nautilus shell surrounded by teeth. The same symbol that¡¯s on my Class Card.

    First Stamp Activated: Chain of Likeness.

    Stamped items that have sufficient likeness will be grouped together, occupying only a single inventory slot.

    Maximum grouped items: 4.

    Stamping Requirements: 35 Worth and 2 grams of Chainwax.

    ¡­There¡¯s a little memory somewhere in the back of my mind that tells me Gil wanted me to use this on the potions he sold me. That¡¯s one option¨Csure¨Cbut another, much bigger part of me can¡¯t help but hope these things will work on the shellraiser devices. They¡¯re all made from exactly the same materials, after all, so¡­ why not? Just because they have extremely different outputs, doesn¡¯t mean the magical wax seals will see it that way.

    I send the rest of the kit away and raise my right arm up, looking for a good spot to stamp the coin holster. I settle on the part of it that¡¯s closest to my elbow, carefully press the stamp down, and try to will thirty five Worth into the stamp. It hisses with heat for a moment, and my hand is pushed ever so slightly away from the coin holster to make room for a small glob of perfectly clear wax. The stamp sinks down into it without any effort, tainting the wax with darkness the exact colour of Pearl¡¯s body as it stamps my symbol onto it.

    Qualities of item have been registered.

    For as long as it remains stamped, only items with sufficient likeness may be stamped.

    35 Worth and 2 grams of chainwax consumed.

    Okay. That¡¯s a good start. I pull out the matrix and knife, hold them both in one hand, and press the stamp down on the part of the knife¡¯s blade that¡¯s closest to the handle. The stamp hisses once again, but there¡¯s a longer pause this time. I bite my cheek in anticipation, bracing myself for the system to inform me of my failure.

    But no. The stamp recoils ever so slightly, more wax appears under it, and the stamp presses it into a seal. I lift it away, doubt blossoming into excitement, and quickly press the thing down onto the matrix. It¡¯s a repeat of exactly what happened with the knife, and I send the both of them into my inventory before I check what the system had to say.

    Sufficient likeness identified x2.

    Items added to Chain of Likeness.

    70 Worth and 4 grams of chainwax consumed.

    That¡¯s a hundred and forty Worth down the drain. But now I¡¯ve got six things I can take back to Earth with me, and I can put any other shellraiser devices we make into the chain. All my self-inficted worries related to exactly this flow away on the breeze, and I send the stamp back into my inventory with a satisfied sigh. I¡¯ve got a thousand and seventy two Worth left now¨Cthree short of buying the first tier upgrade of each stat point. And I¡¯m pretty damn sure having two more shellraiser devices back on Earth is worth more than one Body.

    ¡°Shelby. People are staring.¡± Pearl whispers harshly.

    ¡°Yeah, I figured as much.¡± I chuckle and look around. Sure enough, everyone around us is staring at me. Most of them avert their eyes when I meet them, but more than a few keep staring. With various expressions on their faces ranging from confusion to¡­ outright hatred. ¡°We should probably get out of here. Illumisia?¡±

    Illumisia rolls her eyes with a huff. ¡°Do not assume I do not value my cover just because you do not value yours. I¡­ system-born? Why are you glowing?¡±

    Glowing? I frown and look down at my hands; no sign of glowing there. The stones under my feet aren¡¯t reflecting anything, either. What the hell is Illumisia talking¨C

    Stone and sky swap out for dull metal and an electronic hum. I blink rapidly and look around in a panic, bright colours and noise meeting me with the scent of burning exhaust carried by a weak breeze. My throat thickens as I feel something knock against my side, but I ignore it as I close my hand around emptiness where stat coins used to be. A brown-skinned woman with the physique of a fitness model in a crop-top hoodie sprints right into me, gives me a look of absolute horror, then scrambles to her feet and keeps running. Other than her, the streets are completely empty.

    ¡°Shelby?! What happened?!¡± Pearl asks in a panic. ¡°Where¡¯s Illumisia? What happened to Palastia? Did the system do this?¡±

    I gulp and feel at my side. My purse hangs over my shoulder, filled with everything that didn¡¯t come with me to the other world. The stink of industrial magic and technology spews through the air, carrying a loud roar that¡¯s accentuated by a shrieking siren and countless bright lights along all the single and two-story buildings.

    ¡°Yeah, the system did this.¡± I confirm quietly as the source of the roar soars by overhead. A huge passenger plane transfigured into a dragon by the apocalypse¡¯s magic. ¡°We¡¯re back on Earth a day ahead of schedule. And since it couldn¡¯t kill me back there, seems like it¡¯s trying its best to kill me right now.¡±

    The mechanical dragon belts out another sky-shattering roar, then turns its bizarre apocalypse-twisted face directly at me. My awareness latches onto it like a parasite. The twisted roar of engines-turned-throat grows ever louder as it begins its descent.

 Chapter 47: Apocalypse Sweet Apocalypse

    Staring deep into a white-hot jet engine as it descends towards you isn¡¯t the place you want to be. When that engine is part of a monstrous creature twisted by the apocalypse into something infinitely more dangerous than any plane could ever be¡­ well, I guess all I can do is count my lucky stars that it isn¡¯t a fighter plane. Magic ammunition combined with the speed of a fighter plane and the maneuverability of a hummingbird makes for quite possibly the most terrifying monster of all.

    Of course, all this could just be the product of my brain trying its damndest to justify how this plane-dragon isn¡¯t going to kill the ever-loving hell out of me. Pearl screams at me to move, but it really doesn¡¯t matter. These machines-turned-monsters are running on magic and technology as if they were real, living things. As crazy as that might sound.

    ¡°We need to do something!¡± Pearl shakes my shoulder with one hand and points vigorously at the plane-dragon with the other. ¡°Throw coins at it or something! Don¡¯t just give up for no reason!¡±

    I flip a coin through my fingers and flick it as hard as I can off into the streets. ¡°Give up? Hell no. But running isn¡¯t going to do anything. I¡¯m not super familiar with this exact model of monster, but I¡¯m pretty damn sure it can move way faster than we can even after it crash-lands. Most planes have radar on them, too, so it¡¯ll be able to follow us no matter where we go. Then you add in all the general dragon stereotypes, and you get the absolute freak of the apocalypse you see before us.¡±

    Pearl stares at me blankly for a few seconds. ¡°How do you know all this? I thought Earth wasn¡¯t magical?¡±

    ¡°Oh, Earth isn¡¯t. The apocalypse DEFINITELY WAS!¡± I raise my voice over the roar of the engines as the dragon descends on us, the horrific heat billowing off the jet engines in its throat foreshadowing something more. A snap of my awareness activates the relocation I sent into the moments before a deluge of dirty fire bursts free of the plane-dragon¡¯s mouth, bringing us just to safety.

    ¡°AHHHHhhhh?!¡± Pearl screams and covers her face. When she doesn¡¯t die right away, she lowers them and slows down the scream. ¡°Oh, um, right. I kind of forgot about that. So, what happens when it crash¨C¡±

    The plane-dragon slams feet-first into the street, shearing off the corner of a building and leaving long, deep gouges in the pavement as it skids itself to a stop. Blistering winds whip around its wings to help slow it down¨Cmagic inspired by the engines that are now lodged deep in its body. It obviously doesn¡¯t need them to fly, or else it¡¯d still have them on its wings, but that doesn¡¯t mean it won¡¯t pull out some shit it really doesn¡¯t look like it should be able to do. Creations of the apocalypse are unfair like that.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to keep dodging it.¡± I say as I imbue more coins with relocation. Unfortunately, there¡¯s an issue; my holster isn¡¯t refilling with ghost quarters. It¡¯s using actual Worth. ¡°Ah, shit. The inventory lock means I don¡¯t get any ghost quarter ammo while I¡¯m on Earth. Unless¡­ ¡°

    I trail off as I fling a coin behind the dragon, then activate it before it hits the ground. A massive wing scythes through where we just were, leaving a crescent wound in the pavement. The plane-dragon continues in a full spin, its tail smacking heavily against the ground and spitting up a cloud of sparks. A series of fins on its back that look like immovable rudders tremble slightly with the movement, but otherwise stay perfectly intact.

    ¡°Yeah, nevermind, no time to flip anything right now.¡± I chuckle to myself and flick one coin straight into the air while sending another as far down the street as possible. ¡°Pearl, can you amplify my awareness? I know it¡¯s not in great shape, but I kind of need better reactions right now.¡±

    ¡°How are you so calm about this?¡± Pearl asks calmly now that she sees we¡¯re not in immediate danger. Hypocrite. ¡°If you didn¡¯t have any skills or spells before, how did you manage to survive here? This is more dangerous than a lot of things on my planet.¡±

    I shrug and teleport to the coin I threw down the street. The dragon bellows a stream of fire at where I was, seemingly not realizing that I teleported away for a good thirty seconds. Its body starts to make even louder noises as the fire intensifies, but from watching a lot of news reports, I know it isn¡¯t even close to damaging itself.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Everyone just kind of keeps their heads down and tries not to get killed. That¡¯s why you don¡¯t see many cars out in the street; the longer they¡¯re exposed to open air, the more likely they are to get apocalyzed.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ things only get turned into monsters if they aren¡¯t safely contained? Does that mean the magic is carried on air currents?¡±

    ¡°Apparently. Everyone buys high-grade air filters so their kitchen appliances don¡¯t turn into goblins and start killing their families. But that doesn¡¯t stop them from getting super unlucky when they open their front door.¡± I take a step back and toss two more coins to my right and left. ¡°When I was eight, I beat a toaster to death that turned into some horrible little hellcat-thing when mom accidentally left the back window open. Of course she blamed me for it, and I had to pay for a new toaster with my allowance.¡±

    Pearl nods along attentively. ¡°I guess I should ask this now; what is a car, and what is a toaster? And, for the future, just assume I don¡¯t know what any really specific appliance is.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough. Do you know what a stove is?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Well, a toaster is like a stovetop folded in two for the sole purpose of toasting bread. And bread-like foods.¡± I explain with a hand motion to go along with it. ¡°They¡¯re usually rectangles about yay big, made of metal, and pretty cheap compared to getting an actual stove. Or an oven.¡±

    ¡°I know what an oven is, too.¡±

    Well, that saves me an explanation. My awareness lazily warns me that the dragon¡¯s jet breath has run out, but my eyes tell me the exact same thing at the exact same time. I flex my fingers and quickly look to my left and my right, checking to see where each of the coins landed. And which one¡¯s in the better place to teleport to. The one to my left handed in the gutter, along with some chunky runoff and what looks like a dead rat. The one on my right¡­ isn¡¯t there.

    Because it rolled into a drainage grate. If I wasn¡¯t one-hundred percent sure the dragon had radar, that would be perfect. ¡­Actually, wouldn¡¯t putting something completely solid between me and the dragon mess up its radar? Do I even have a single clue about how radar actually works?

    Eh, I¡¯ve got two backups out on the street. Might as well test my theory.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°So, a car is a four-wheeled vehicle powered by an engine.¡± I say as relocation brings us down into the sewers. My feet mercifully land on solid concrete, but the slurry of stuff next to me isn¡¯t so kind. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you have carriages in your world, but you have ships. You probably¡­ blurgh, this place is gross. It''s almost half as bad as that pile of frozen sand.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s definitely not that bad.¡± Pearl shudders and ducks a little more into her shell. ¡°That smell almost got to me. In comparison, this one is just regular, everyday disgusting. And yeah, we had carriages. We even powered a lot of them with magic, we just didn¡¯t call them ¡®cars¡¯. Oh, is ¡®car¡¯ just a shorter way to say ¡®carriage¡¯?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s latin for something. Or maybe it is short for carriage.¡± I say as I start walking down the sewers, my mind ready to cast relocation at the first whiff of the dragon. ¡°There¡¯s probably some wonkiness in the system¡¯s translation for all this. Since, by your own definition, you have cars in your world. The system should¡¯ve translated it that way.¡±

    ¡°Well, we use the word ¡®toast¡¯, too, we just don¡¯t have a device specifically for that purpose. Or¡­ at least we didn¡¯t when I was free.¡± Pearl hums in thought and taps her lip. ¡°¡®Toaster¡¯ would just be any device that can toast something. But the translation provided by the system didn¡¯t really convey that properly.¡±

    ¡°Really? What did it convey?¡±

    ¡°¡®Toaster¡¯.¡± Pearl repeats. ¡°Just the word, with none of the context behind it. Like¡­ imagine if you heard the word ¡®shellraiser¡¯ used as a noun without any point of reference. You¡¯d think it was someone that lifted shells up into the air. So I just kind of assumed ¡®toaster¡¯ had more meaning than just¡­ well¡­ toaster.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at that. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean the system conveyed the definition perfectly?¡±

    Crashes and crunches drown out whatever Pearl has to say. The world rumbles around us, shaking free tiny pieces of debris that come from years of shoddy maintenance and¡­ let¡¯s just call it buildup. We hold our breaths as the sound gets closer and closer until even the concrete above starts to buckle under the titanic weight of the plane-dragon. It bellows a mighty roar, sending the temperature of the very air around us into overdrive.

    Then¡­ it starts to leave. The crashing footfalls grow further and further away, accompanied by a rain of debris down the tunnel back towards where we first appeared. Pearl rapidly taps my shoulder to get my attention, then shoots me a look that¡¯s both excited and a little worried. I hold up a finger for her to wait as I nod in agreement. The thing might not have been able to sense us with a layer of concrete between us, but if we pop out too soon, its magically-enhanced radar could detect us instantly.

    ¡°What¡¯s it chasing?¡±

    I snap to Pearl. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I mean¡­ it¡¯s going in the direction we were. Doesn¡¯t that mean it¡¯s chasing after someone?¡± She nods to herself confidently. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s going after that person that bumped into us. Lucky break, right?¡±

    I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. ¡°Not helping with the guilt trip.¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°I¡¯m not guilting you into anything. If you don¡¯t have the power to save her, don¡¯t save her. That¡¯s not me being sarcastic, by the way¨Cit¡¯s the hard truth. Turning one casualty into two doesn¡¯t win a war.¡±

    ¡°But if I did have the power to save her?¡±

    Pearl smiles dangerously and clasps her hands together. ¡°You win a war by having more people left standing. And, unless I¡¯m wrong, zero casualties is infinitely better than any at all.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not at war.¡± I say as I push spells into my coins and stare up at the concrete ceiling. ¡°Saving that woman doesn¡¯t add to our firepower. Hell, we might not even be able to protect her.¡±

    ¡°Or it could mean a whole lot.¡± Pearl leans into my neck and pats my jaw. ¡°She might not be a soldier just yet. It doesn¡¯t mean she won¡¯t ever pick up a weapon. Say you found another class coin. And say you had someone indebted to you¡­ well, that would be just nifty, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±

    She shrugs innocently as her shady suggestion hangs in the air. I want to chide her for her callous way of thinking, but honestly, it rings pretty damn true. Having someone who could see the other side of the system¨Cthe one that actually wants to help humanity for some reason¨Ccould be invaluable. And of course there¡¯s the whole ¡®saving her life¡¯ part. That¡¯s obviously the most important thing.

    ¡°Alright.¡± I say as the contingency plan clatters to the concrete between my feet. ¡°I¡¯ve got a few ideas I didn¡¯t get to use against the teleporter. Let¡¯s see if they¡¯re repurposable.¡±

    I activate one of the remaining relocation coins as I crack my knuckles. With the few free seconds I have I use shoreline risemutation to turn nine Worth into six ghost quarters and six skeletons, quickly flipping all of them to bring them to full power. I take a deep breath and bend down to set a skeleton on the ground, then push a projectile into a regular ghost quarter and set it on top of the skeleton.

    Pearl watches the horizon as the air gets noticeably warmer. ¡°Wow. It really hates you.¡±

    ¡°Us.¡± I correct her as I set down another pair of coins a few feet from the first. ¡°It really hates us.¡±

    ¡°Fair. But why are we doing this over here? Don¡¯t we want the woman to know it was us that saved her?¡± Pearl puts a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. ¡°I can feel her pretty close to here. But, um, there¡¯s a plane-dragon between us.¡±

    I set down a third pair of coins and brush off my knees, then turn to mirror what I made on the other side of the road. I¡¯m not a hundred percent sure this will work how I want it to, but if it does, this is definitely my best chance at bringing this thing down. There¡¯s only one small issue; making sure the plane-dragon doesn¡¯t destroy all the setup before I can set it off.

    ¡°It¡¯s getting really close. I can¡¯t enhance your awareness by much, but I¡¯ll do the best I can.¡± Pearl informs me as black seeps into the edges of my vision. ¡°Do you want a quick analysis of what I think the weak points are?¡±

    I shake my head and strap the knife to my arm, then fill it with a five-Worth shield. ¡°I¡¯m going to try to identify it first. If it leaves any holes, fill them in the best you can.¡±

    She nods in understanding and retreats into her shell. ¡°I¡¯ll warn you if anything happens outside of your range.¡±

    ¡°If anything happens outside of my range, it¡¯ll be some kind of army swooping in to do my job for me. Probably the Preservation, since they¡¯ve got a branch less than a hundred miles from here.¡± I say, then pause as I feel Pearl¡¯s enhanced awareness latch onto the plane-dragon. ¡°Wow. It seems a lot bigger when you can actually see all of it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s huge. Do you think this ¡®Preservation¡¯ can kill it?¡±

    Do I think the Preservation can kill it? I snort and shake my head; if the Preservation couldn¡¯t kill passenger planes tainted by the apocalypse, we¡¯d all be dead and buried by now. I¡¯ve watched them take down aircraft carriers and nuclear submarines turned apocalyptic monsters on TV. A passenger plane is nothing to them.

    Of course, that doesn¡¯t change the fact that I¡¯m about to be the one staring it down. Yet again. I take a deep breath and shake out my arms to try and loosen up, but my awareness won¡¯t let that happen. It¡¯s coiled inside of me like a garage door spring, under so much pressure that when it bursts I won¡¯t be able to ignore it. The plane-dragon rears it¡¯s ugly head above the buildings separating us, opens its engine-filled mouth, and screams at me. It presses on a building to try and brute force a direct path, but it doesn¡¯t have the momentum or raw strength to easily do it. Even still, I watch as the front of a convenience store crumbles to ruin, and the plane-dragon struggles to soldier on.

    I aim my finger at it and focus. ¡°Identify.¡±

    Identification Cost: 620 Worth.

    ¡®See All¡¯ available for use.

 Chapter 48: Up In Flames

    See All. That¡¯s a name I feel like I haven¡¯t seen in months. For the briefest of moments I wonder what happened to make it available for use again, but any thoughts that aren¡¯t directly focused on the plane-dragon get violently swept away as the thing rounds the street corner to scream at me even louder than before. Obviously I¡¯m not going to waste more than half of all the Worth I¡¯ve got left on identifying the thing, so ¡®See All¡¯ gets to go on cooldown for god knows how much longer.

    Multi Engine Passenger Dragonjet.

    A large passenger plane given life by the magic of what humans call ¡®the apocalypse¡¯. Far more violent and dangerous than their smaller cousins, they possess a degree of control over Fire and Wind magic which can be amplified through the engines in their throat.

    Observed Detail: the head contains most of the pre-transformation cockpit. Destroying it would not outright kill the creature, for the engines are what keep it alive.

    Observed Skill: Read The Winds. Using a magical mockery of the technology within the plane, the Dragonjet can accurately place the locations of anything within a large radius that disturbs the air.

    Observed Spell: Spewing Overheat. By overheating the engines in its throat with magic, the Dragonjet creates a plume of dirty flames that it propels outward. The magic protects the engines inside from harm, but if used for long enough, it could cause permanent damage.

    ¡°Oh, awesome. Pretty much everything we already figured out.¡± I mutter as I turn around and start running. ¡°Pearl, do you have a lock on where it¡¯s storing the fuel? And do you know if it¡¯s actually consuming it?¡±

    ¡°Yes and no. Actually¡­ probably yes and yes. From how the dragonjet is walking, and how much of an impact each of its steps has, its weight isn¡¯t decreasing. Unless it sips whatever fuel it has, it isn¡¯t consuming it. It¡¯s probably magically empowering it.¡± She relays into my ear. ¡°If I had to guess, I would say the fuel was transformed into ¡®blood¡¯ and now runs through every part of it. Or it¡¯s all stored somewhere far enough away from the mouth and throat that it won¡¯t catch fire.¡±

    The dragonjet raises its head to the sky and lets out a deafening roar, then shoots forward with a titanic blast of air. I wince at the thought of all my prepared coins getting blown away uselessly, but my awareness says they¡¯re still in place. For now.

    ¡°I thought you said you had a lock on where the fuel is?¡± I say over the dragonjet¡¯s roaring engines. ¡°I kind of need that information right now.¡±

    ¡°Not the tail, because it attacked us with it before. Not the stomach, either, since that¡¯s too close to the engines.¡± Pearl looks around frantically for a second, then snaps her fingers. ¡°The big fins on its back! They¡¯re made of something that¡¯s a slightly different colour, and they¡¯re harder to focus on with my awareness. Ninety-nine percent of the time that means it¡¯s more magical and important than everywhere else.¡±

    I nod and ready myself to spring the traps. The wind is too strong to wait until the dragonjet is perfectly in place; I¡¯ll have to hope that it¡¯s too focused on me to register the coins before it¡¯s too late. One skeletal coin starts to tremble. I set my jaw without looking back, feeling my coins with my awareness as they shake under the propulsive force of the monster bearing down on me. If I fail here, I can still get away. There¡¯s really no stakes.

    But¡­ aw, hell, I want that Mind point. And even if the woman never even learns who I am, she¡¯ll remember this for the rest of her life. That doesn¡¯t happen if I run away.

    ¡°Aim for the fins.¡± I whisper as all the projectiles slightly alter themselves. Then I focus on the skeletons underneath. ¡°Launch them into place. Last two, you take out the legs.¡±

    Four skeletons load up with shields. They tremble under the oppressive winds, and just as they¡¯re about to lose their grips on the iron fives on top of them, I force the spells to burst. Shields folded in half blink into existence, take aim at the dragonjet, and snap open with cracks loud enough to deafen the roar. The dragonjet falters for a split second, completely taken aback by the noise louder than its own, and that¡¯s enough.

    Projectiles soar into place. My awareness latches onto the destructive vortexes and detonates them just as the dragon-jet gets into place. Ten Worth of a spell rips free of each coin, utterly devouring the dragonjet from the fins downward. It screams and shrieks as metal and fuel flies about in a gory display of death metal. What¡¯s left of it twitches and thrashes as it bathes in its own sparkling fuel, spattered about an entire city block around it.

    Including me. My clothes get absolutely soaked with the spray of jet fuel and metal scrap. I can¡¯t do anything but stand there in awe of the car-sized monstrocities I called forth, hanging still in the air like bundles of angelic sawblades waiting to descend on an unfortunate sinner. The other two shields explode into action, sending the last two projectile-filled coins clattering uselessly to the ground where I thought I¡¯d need them.

    Completed Quest: Close Your Eyes, Cold One 2/20.

    Reward: one Mind.

    Next Target: 15 threat.

    After a few minutes to pick my jaw up off the floor, I manage to pull myself together and actually survey the destruction. My projectiles still whir along ceaselessly, and from the sensation my awareness gives me, they¡¯ll keep going for at least a few more minutes. The raw destructive power contained in them scares the shit out of me, and that¡¯s with a regular ghost quarter.

    What the hell would they look like if I used a skeleton?

    I shake the awe off and force all my projectiles to end as I walk up to the obviously dead dragonjet. Metal and fuel mingle with flame as readily as water mingles with dirt, but I can already see the sheen of magic dying away. In a few minutes, this will be nothing but another massive fire for the Preservation to clean up. And take credit for. Unless I can do something about it.

    My fingers brush a piece of the thing¡¯s head. It¡¯s freezing cold. So is the magic. ¡°Repurpose.¡±

    The entire dragonjet shudders for a split second, then just¡­ disappears. I blink in disbelief as a glass slate clatters to the ground in the middle of the destroyed road, glimmering like a diamond in the sun. Just looking at it is enough to give me a headache, but I would recognize it anywhere. I¡¯m wearing two things made from those exact same schematic slates, after all.

    I try to take a step closer. It feels like my brain¡¯s about to rip itself in half. ¡°Pearl. Can you memorize that schematic in less than five minutes?¡±

    She pops out, mouth still hanging open in awe. So that¡¯s why I didn¡¯t hear from her until now.

    ¡°Um, yeah. Actually, I can do you one better.¡± She hops out of her shell and scurries down my shoulder, slides into the crater, and gets up right next to the slate. Her hand shimmers with every colour imaginable, and she presses it down on the slate. Symbols and colours flow up her arm for a few long moments, then she staggers back with a titanic sigh and flops down on the concrete.

    My headache disappears at the exact same time. She looks up at me with a tired smile and waves her still colourful hand. ¡°All done. Can you come pick me up? My legs aren¡¯t really working right now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, of course I can. What did you¨C¡± I freeze as sirens cut through the silence. A piercing noise for three seconds, a whoop for one, then repeat. ¡°Shit, that¡¯s the Preservation. Don¡¯t use any magic until we¡¯re far enough away.¡±

    I hurry down and pick her up, press her to her shell, and start sprinting away from the crater. Pearl¡¯s head lolls to the side as she lets out a giggle that almost sounds intoxicated, all the while struggling to get into her shell again. Even if she was in any shape to explain what she just did, it isn¡¯t safe now. The Preservation might be able to hear us, and I don¡¯t want them to know what I am. They¡¯re tasked with disposing of any magical threat, after all.

    System-born included.

    <hr>

    ¡°Come on, come on.¡± I mutter in frustration as I struggle with a crappy, almost dull key. ¡°How did I ever put up with this garbage? I swear, if I¨Cthere!¡±

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The lock clicks open and I rush into my apartment, slamming the door shut behind me and doing up every lock the old thing¡¯s got. It¡¯s only two, but somehow, just turning two levers is enough to make me feel a billion times safer. I sigh in relief and walk over to a raggedy couch, collapse into it, and kick my legs up over one arm rest while I use the other as a pillow.

    ¡°Can I talk now, Shelby?¡± Pearl pokes her head out of her shell with a whisper. She looks around with a frown, then groans and closes her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s too bright in here. I¡¯m going back in my shell.¡±

    I raise one hand to block the incandescent piece of crap in the light fixture that¡¯s seven feet off the ground. The damn fan jiggles it loose, and it¡¯s always me that has to change it, even though I never turn on the fan. That¡¯s all Jazz trying to get some airflow in this crappy old apartment.

    I chuckle and turn to my side, letting my hand fall in the process. I owe her one hell of an explanation, and I¡¯m going to have to come up with it before she comes back from the evacuation. Because I¡¯m sure as shit not telling her the truth.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine to talk. Just don¡¯t say anything about what happened.¡±

    It¡¯s a stretch to grab the handle of the fridge, and I strain to pull it open with just my fingertips. A chill wafts out as a mostly empty white inside is revealed, save for a bunch of diet soda and some cheap booze. I grab a can of cola and shut the fridge, then settle back into the comfort of the sofa.

    ¡°So, um, they can hear everything we say?¡±

    ¡°Eh.¡± I pop open my drink with a hiss of carbonation. ¡°They¡¯ve got a little bit of magic and a lot of tech monitoring the airwaves. The internet thinks they have it set to some key words about whatever goes down, but I think it¡¯s a lot simpler.¡±

    I pull my dead phone out of my purse and waggle it for emphasis. ¡°These things are always on anyway, so they¡¯re probably just listening in through them. Add in a little amplification magic, and you¡¯ve got everyone running around with listening devices in their pockets.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we get rid of yours, then?¡±

    ¡°Nah. It¡¯s completely dead.¡± I press on the screen a few times to double check, then set it back in my purse. ¡°No charge means there¡¯s nothing it can work with. But we¡¯ve got smart stuff all over the apartment, like that speaker over there or the big TV mounted to the wall. There¡¯s only so much I can do without pissing Jazz off whenever she gets home.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ annoy her. If it''s our safety versus her comfort, I¡¯ll choose us every time. Urgh.¡± Pearl rubs her temples and groans. ¡°Doing that thing really took it out of me.¡±

    ¡°Hey, careful. We don¡¯t want to set them on us, and you¡¯re dangerously close to saying something they might pick up.¡± I remind her, then go in for a deep swig of carbonated goodness. It¡¯s¡­ nowhere near as good as I remember. Still good, but not¡­ as good. ¡°That¡¯s disappointing. Wonder if they changed the formula since I last had one of these.¡±

    Pearl raises an eyebrow in question. ¡°In two weeks? Do companies ever move that fast?¡±

    I shake my head and slightly squeeze the can with both hands. ¡°No, they don¡¯t.¡±

    I¡¯m more than aware that it¡¯s whatever happened to my tastebuds doing this to my old friend diet cola, but I reserve the right to be in denial. This was my escape after a long day, and now I don¡¯t even want to finish the can. I set it down on the table and spin my legs so I¡¯m sitting up straight to actually take in my apartment for the first time in two weeks.

    It¡¯s small. And old. Two weeks ago, that¡¯s all I would¡¯ve been able to say about it. But now, I can see all the little bits of mold in the corners, the start of water damage on the ceiling, and all the dust that¡¯s piled up pretty much everywhere the airflow isn¡¯t good. The entire thing is a kitchen slash living room, two bedrooms, and one pretty big bathroom. No closet space, no washer and dryer, and no room to do¡­ anything, really.

    My can dribbles condensation onto the table below. So many dried on rings litter the table from years of no coasters, and all the scratches from the many times we¡¯ve accidentally dragged something across it. I set my mouth to one side and hum with a mixture of emotions, grab a coaster from a box that still has the plastic on it, and stuff it under the can. I¡­ don¡¯t know why it didn¡¯t bother me before, or why it bothers me now, but I can make it at least a little more presentable.

    Not that I¡¯m going to go around cleaning the place up. There¡¯s way too many of Jazz¡¯s clothes thrown around the place that she¡¯d get pissed if I so much as touched, her laptop¡¯s underneath the TV, and her phone¡¯s still on the speaker¡¯s dock. I flinch as it buzzes and brightens, then squint at the notifications that are piling up. Messages from her family, public safety alerts, and a bunch of popups from random apps that she never bothered to delete vye for space in a phone that she had to leave behind.

    I glance down at my purse, and after a long few moments of hesitation, I pull out my phone and plug it into my charger that¡¯s still right next to the microwave. It flashes when it gets the first sip of electricity, but I know it¡¯ll be a few minutes before I can power it up and check all my notifications.

    ¡°Is that a good idea?¡± Pearl asks.

    ¡°Ha. Nope. But I have to do it.¡± I say with a small smile and set my phone down on the counter. Then I reach into my purse and fumble around until my fingers wrap around my keys once more. ¡°I¡¯ll pack my things, we can wait the Preservation out, and then we¡¯ll¡­ get moving, I guess. Don¡¯t really know where we¡¯ll go, but we can¡¯t stay here.¡±

    Pearl raises an eyebrow, then widens her eyes and nods. ¡°Ah. Because the Preservation will eventually find us.¡±

    I snort out a quick laugh and twirl the keys around my finger as I walk down the small hallway. ¡°That¡¯s one reason, yeah. The other reason is the people I told you about two from weeks ago. They were there for a reason, and I¡¯m not sure if that reason is said and done with.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I don¡¯t really have an opinion no matter what we do. But¡­ I¡¯m going to lie down now. If my voice sounds a little bit further away than normal, it¡¯s because I¡¯m further away than normal.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the warning.¡± I twist the key in my bedroom door and wince at the click-click of a half broken lock. ¡°Take a nap if you need it. We shouldn¡¯t be in any danger for a while.¡±

    Pearl yawns and mumbles agreement, then lets out quiet breaths until she drifts off to sleep. For some reason, I can hear her soft breathing in the back of my mind when I¡¯d never been able to before. The calming sound follows me into my room, everything still in the exact same place as I¡¯d left. My TV slash computer monitor mounted to the wall above my desk, all my clothes messily piled into a purple basket, and a bunch of makeup on my bedside table that¡¯s just gathering dust. Couldn¡¯t leave it in the bathroom or else Jazz would accidentally use it up in her six-am stupor.

    Pretty sure there wasn¡¯t any maliciousness there, but I can¡¯t afford more eyeshadow with how she cakes it on. I grab a case and flick it open with my thumb, smile down at the half-used colour, and snap it closed once again. The thought of never having to wear it again brings me a lot of mixed feelings; a little relief, since I won¡¯t have to waste half an hour every morning, and a little¡­ excitement. Now, if I put on makeup, it¡¯ll be for me and me alone.

    I gather up all of it in one arm and fish around for one of the bags under my desk to throw it all in. It takes less than a minute to get everything crammed in¨Cbrushes, polishes, creams, and everything in between. My clothes take a little longer, since they¡¯re unfolded, but even that¡¯s done in half an hour. Then goes everything else. Into two duffel bags that I cross over my chest, heft up with a grunt, and sidestep out of my room. Everything I care about in two bags. Ready to go in less than an hour.

    Maybe that¡¯s a little pathetic to some people. But looking back into my room, seeing the white walls unmarred by posters or even a little paint¡­ well, I guess I just never got attached to this place. It was supposed to be a stepping stone. Just for a year until I found something better.

    I reach up and gently pat Pearl¡¯s shell with a smile. It¡¯s not what I imagined ¡®something better¡¯ looking like, but it¡¯ll have to do. I swing by the kitchen and pull my charger off the wall to check my phone. There has to be a tidal wave of notifications and worried messages piling up because of how long I was away.

    It blinks on after a few seconds of loading. A picture of a younger-looking me and Jazz without all the darkness under her eyes stares back at me. Along with exactly four notifications. One from work telling me that I¡¯m fired. Another from school telling me that I need to get that job back, or else I lose my spot in the program. Those are about a week apart¨Cand my job didn¡¯t even fire me the first day I was gone. They waited a whole three days without contacting me for that.

    The other two¡­ well, one of them is a string of messages from Jazz worrying about me. Message after message pleading with me to tell her what¡¯s happening, promising that she can cover me if it¡¯s about rent, and just¡­ being a good friend. They never taper off. The last one was sent at the exact same time the last notification came in, warning me about the alert and wishing that I was alright.

    Then there¡¯s the last notification. The emergency alert from about four hours ago warning about the dragonjet. Nothing from my friends, my teachers, or anyone at work. Nothing from my family. Nobody tried to contact me. Not mom, not dad, none of my brothers or sisters. I¡­ I know we aren¡¯t the most connected family¡­ but¡­ I mean¡­ I¡¯d like to think¡­ I swallow hard around the uncomfortable truth.

    They didn¡¯t even know I was gone.

    Knock, knock.

    I swivel around at the sound of two distinct knocks spaced out by less than a quarter second. One light and polite, one heavy and intimidating. I unzip one duffel bag and stuff my phone into it, then grasp onto the thread of awareness that connects me to my contingency plan. There¡¯s only three possibilities.

    Jazz, but she would¡¯ve just used her key.

    The Preservation. They wouldn¡¯t bother knocking if they know what I am.

    Or the other two. The ones who pushed me towards the Class Coin in the first place.

    I tap Pearl¡¯s shell until she stirs. ¡°Huh, wha?¡± She mumbles, then goes deathly still. ¡°They¡¯re powerful.¡±

    That¡¯s what I was afraid of. ¡°How many?¡±

    She shakes her head, and any remnants of the tired shellraiser from before is wiped away.

    ¡°Two.¡±

 Chapter 49: Instigators

    My awareness twitches as I get ready to use the coins I left behind to relocate. But it doesn¡¯t go anywhere near as far as I expected it to. It goes all of twenty feet away, right through the door, and connects at chest height to something outside. Both the coins I left behind.

    ¡°Shit.¡± I mutter under my breath and look around the room. ¡°They already know about the spells. Even if I toss one through the window, they¡¯ll be there in a few seconds.¡±

    ¡°Less than a few seconds, actually.¡± Pearl whispers, even though I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s speaking directly into my mind. ¡°One of them is heavy with the tint of teleportation. The same kind of tint that was on the teleporter you repurposed, too¨Cnot one from a spell.¡±

    I clench my teeth and hiss through them. ¡°Double shit. What should we do?¡±

    ¡°Open the door. Talk to them. I¡¯ll keep my awareness on a knife¡¯s edge, and if they try to hurt you, kill them.¡± Pearl says seriously. ¡°But they didn¡¯t kill you before everything happened. There¡¯s a chance they don¡¯t want to hurt you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, a snowball¡¯s chance in hell.¡± I sigh and carefully drop my duffel bags behind the couch. ¡°Fine. But I¡¯m trusting you to keep me alive.¡±

    Pearl nods in understanding. I glare at the door as the heavy knock rings out once more, but the lighter one doesn¡¯t join it this time. One of them¡¯s getting impatient. And something tells me that keeping them waiting could be very dangerous. So I straighten my back, put on my bravest face, and slowly undo the locks keeping us separated.

    The door slams into my foot the moment the second lock clicks open.

    ¡°Kept us waiting long enough.¡± The woman from two weeks ago laughs as she easily shoves both me and the door out of her way. She watches the man walk straight to the couch, then turns to me and smiles. ¡°Lock the door behind us.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± I grumble sarcastically as she goes to join her friend. I turn all the locks and quickly turn around to see the man taking a deep swig of my diet cola. ¡°Dude. What the hell?¡±

    The guy points a finger gun at me and grins. ¡°You left it out, so that¡¯s your problem.¡± He says as he rests his feet on the coffee table, then takes another long drink. ¡°Ah, still cold-ish. What are you still doing standing up? There¡¯s a chair right over there¨Cacross from us¨Cthat looks just uncomfortable enough to keep it around. Take it and let¡¯s talk.¡±

    I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him. ¡°This is my apartment, asshole.¡±

    His expression goes flat and he sets the can down on the table right next to the coaster. He uncrosses his legs and slowly sits up, laces his fingers together, and nods at the chair.

    ¡°Sit down.¡±

    ¡°What did I just¨C¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to ask again.¡± He says quietly. ¡°We are going to talk. Sit down or be sat down.¡±

    Something in his voice snaps my jaw shut. I glance over at the woman, but she¡¯s gone completely stone-faced with an expression that could make a grizzled veteran piss his pants. She raises one hand and gestures at the chair without a single change in expression, yet somehow, she¡¯s infinitely more intense and intimidating than a moment ago.

    ¡°Fine.¡± I huff and sit my ass down in Jazz¡¯s uncomfortable armchair. ¡°Ass in chair, just like you asked.¡±

    The man¡¯s face morphs into a smile that reaches his eyes. But it also doesn¡¯t. The bottom of his face says ¡®jovial and kind¡¯, but his eyes say ¡®I might kill you for annoying me¡¯. I swallow hard as he shifts to the side to let the woman sit down, who leans back and drapes one arm over the cushion and almost around the guy¡¯s shoulders. But she never touches him.

    ¡°Thank you for your eventual cooperation.¡± He says flatly. ¡°Now I hate to start off this way, but we seem to have a problem here. See, when we first met, you took something that was ours. A Class Coin. We never thought you¡¯d actually survive the system¡¯s hatred for the class it would give you, yet here you are.¡±

    He gestures at me with one disinterested hand. ¡°Coin still lodged firmly in your existence, a shellraiser shell in your hair, and very much alive. Our client was not happy that we failed to produce him a Class Coin.¡±

    ¡°Not happy at all.¡± The woman agrees with a quirk of her lip. ¡°He saw reason eventually, but you really can¡¯t do much with billionaires. They think they can buy the world, and when you tell them there¡¯s something they can¡¯t have, it just makes them want it more.¡±

    ¡°So, what? You want to kill me to get the coin back?¡± I lay my hands in my lap and, as discreetly as possible, ready my awareness to push spells into my coins. ¡°That¡¯s bullshit. I survived so damn much just to make it back here. You give this coin to anyone else, they¡¯ll die¡­ day¡­ one¡­¡±

    Realization hits me like a brick in the teeth. Of course anyone else would die with the coin. And then the coin would reappear somewhere else, where someone new could pick it up. Or, if these two found it again and again, selling it to people who have no idea about how much the system hates Worth classes, they could keep selling one coin over and over and over again.

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what you want, isn¡¯t it?¡± I say quietly. ¡°Why? Does the coin reappear around here every time? Is it that much easier than going around trying to find ones randomly created by the system?¡±

    The man clicks his tongue. ¡°A little too clever for your own good. But that¡¯s the entire reason you survived the system¡¯s baptism by fire, isn¡¯t it? All those tricks, trying to keep you away from its chosen little silver soldiers of perfection¡­¡± He sighs and shakes his head. ¡°This would have been infinitely easier if you¡¯d just died there instead. Now you¡¯ve terrified the Preservation, screwed up our sale, and what? You think you¡¯re just going to be able to run?¡±

    He laughs harshly, grabs the can, and downs the rest of it. ¡°You can¡¯t run, Shelby! You¡¯re one person against the whole world! The best you might be able to manage is a few months hiding in the sewers and changing your clothes every five minutes, and for what?!? Just to get dragged back to the other world, where you get to look over your shoulder every waking minute because the system itself wants you dead!?¡±

    Frustration bubbles up in my throat. ¡°Hey, screw you! I didn¡¯t almost get killed multiple times just to roll over and die so you can get a paycheck!¡± I grab the arms of the chair and stand as violently as I can. ¡°I¡¯ve got things I still need to do. People I want to go back to. If the only way back there is over your disfigured corpse, then I¡¯ll stand proudly in bloody shoes for the entire world to see.¡±

    I activate relocation on the coin in the asshole¡¯s left pocket. The world splits for a fraction of a second, and in that moment of confusion, I activate the knife on my left arm. When I appear right beside him, ripping off the right side of his perfectly tailored suit, a blade of prismatic shield is pressed to his neck. He doesn¡¯t even flinch as I press a coin to his back, but he does casually hold up his hands in surrender.

    ¡°Well played, well played.¡± He chuckles. ¡°I made the mistake of thinking those coins were afterthoughts. Turns out they were your contingency plans.¡±

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    The woman stares at the man as his lips tremble. Something twinkles in her eye, but I can¡¯t make it out. She makes the motion as if she¡¯s going to stand up.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I press the blade into the guy¡¯s neck just a little. ¡°Don¡¯t move, or this guy¡¯s turning into a fountain.¡±

    ¡°Damn, that¡¯s intense.¡± She chuckles and shows me her hands. Then she kicks a briefcase towards me, which I somehow missed before all this. ¡°There¡¯s something you need to see in there. If you still think you can chop off my associate¡¯s head after you¡¯ve taken it in, then go ahead and repaint your apartment.¡±

    Real panic flashes over the guy¡¯s face for a split second, but the stony asshole comes right back. He goes to speak, but his Adam''s apple brushes against the edge of my shield-blade and whatever he¡¯s about to say dies on his tongue.

    I gesture at the briefcase with my foot. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not touching that. You didn¡¯t have it on you when you came in, so you either pulled it out of your inventory or it¡¯s some kind of spell.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to argue that.¡± She confirms. ¡°But I need to show you what¡¯s inside. It¡¯s going to happen one way or another, so how are we doing this?¡±

    I mull over the thought while shooting as many glances at the briefcase as humanly possible to try and get Pearl¡¯s attention. If I think it¡¯s a bomb or something, I should get this woman to open it. But if there¡¯s a gun inside, and she¡¯s trying to bait me into making her open it, then I should be the one to open it. Then there¡¯s the very real option that there¡¯s nothing in the briefcase yet, and that something will show up in it depending on what happens.

    ¡°Shelby. There¡¯s¡­ nothing in there.¡± Pear whispers in confusion. ¡°But it¡¯s extremely magical. Almost as magical as a Class Coin or Card. I don¡¯t know what that means, but if I had to guess, I¡¯d say it¡¯s part of her class. Some kind of¡­ physical manifestation of a skill.¡±

    Of course it¡¯s option number three. So opening that briefcase screws me over no matter who opens it. I shift uncomfortably and press my shield-blade a little harder against the guy¡¯s neck, but there¡¯s a resistance that wasn¡¯t there before. Instead of the soft bite of flesh, which I have to keep myself from easily cutting into, it feels like I¡¯m pressing against an immovable object.

    Except¡­ the guy still isn¡¯t moving. If he has a spell that hardens his skin, I can¡¯t do anything to him. So why isn¡¯t he trying to escape? Or¡­ fighting back in some way? I try to keep the surprise off my face as I press the edge against his throat harder and harder, but no matter how hard I press, it doesn¡¯t cut in the slightest.

    The dude doesn¡¯t react any harder.

    There¡¯s something going on. I just have to figure out what it is.

    ¡°Flip the briefcase over.¡± I say as I kick the briefcase back to the woman. ¡°Undo the latches, and let everything inside fall to the ground. If I see a weapon, or any kind of spell, I won¡¯t hesitate.¡±

    With a nod she grabs the briefcase, spins it around, and unlatches it in one swift motion. I don¡¯t even have time to react as the thing splits open, spilling out a ton of coloured confetti and glitter that piles on the floor like the remains of a murdered children¡¯s cartoon.

    I stare at it in utter confusion for more than a few seconds, along with the woman and the man. None of us can seem to believe what we¡¯re seeing, and I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s a good or bad thing. The woman eventually knits her eyebrows together and bangs her fist against the bottom of the briefcase like she¡¯s trying to get the last bit of sauce out of a glass bottle.

    When that produces another burp of glitter, she lets the briefcase fall with a sigh of exasperation. ¡°Seriously? All that buildup for a pile of goddamn confetti?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ just as confused as you are. Apparently.¡± I say slowly. ¡°I thought there was going to be a gun in there. Or¡­ at least some kind of spell. And just let me say, if this is a distraction, you did the absolute worst job of capitalizing on it possible.¡±

    ¡°Not a distraction, definitely not.¡± The man says quickly. ¡°It was supposed to be a celebration. Since you passed the test. The test that we¡¯ve been giving you since we barged in here. One that definitely doesn¡¯t involve us hurting you in the slightest, or me getting my head chopped off to prove a point.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and pretend to plunge my blade into his neck. He screams in terror and summons two chunks of gold shot through with green to his hands, reaching up and scratching at his throat as if trying to shove the stuff into the wound. The nonexistent wound.

    ¡°I¡¯m dying! I¡¯m dying! I¡¯m¡­ fine?¡± He stops thrashing and lowers his hands from his neck, then composes himself and stands up straight while adjusting his shirt. ¡°I mean, I knew you wouldn¡¯t kill me. Of course I did. This was also part of the test, and you passed this one too. With flying colours. One of which was not red, thankfully.¡±

    The woman rolls her eyes and sends her briefcase away. ¡°So cat¡¯s outta the bag now. Yeah, we were just testing you to see if you¡¯d be a danger to everyone we¡¯re working with. You already proved yourself more than enough by coming back from the other world with a Worth class, sure, but we had to see what kind of a person you were.¡±

    ¡°Because there are a lot of personalities that don¡¯t do very well when given access to an unending well of magic.¡± The man adds with a waggle of his finger. ¡°We¡¯re pretty sure you won¡¯t sell us out for money or fame since your first instinct was self-preservation. You made some snap decisions that weren¡¯t really smart, since we¡¯re a lot more powerful than we¡¯re letting on, but you couldn¡¯t have known that, so we¡¯ll let it slide. For now.¡±

    ¡°Aw, thanks.¡± I say with sarcastic sweetness. ¡°Making me think you were going to kill me definitely makes me want to trust everything you¡¯re saying. Get out of my damn house.¡±

    ¡°Nope, can¡¯t do that.¡± The woman says with a shake of her head. ¡°You¡¯re in danger, and I wouldn¡¯t be able to sleep at night if I sent you out into the cold dark where the Preservation will descend on you like vultures. We¡¯ve still got a lot to discuss, but this time, it¡¯s the actual stuff. No intimidation, no tests, no nothing.¡±

    ¡°Like I believe that.¡± I snort and disperse the magic in my knife with a wave of my hand. ¡°Give me a reason to trust you. Not one of those bullshit ¡®we¡¯re all in this together¡¯ excuses, either; I want something tangible. Something that actually convinces me that this still isn¡¯t part of some elaborate set-up so you can get more money. Or more power.¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes light up at the mention of money. ¡°Oh, that one¡¯s easy. Let me give you my card, and her card.¡± He digs in his pockets, then hands me two golden cards with different names on them. ¡°That one is my spending account, and the other is my partner¡¯s. If you come with us, you¡¯ll get one of your own.¡±

    I cautiously take both of the cards, which look like they belong to a real bank, and study them closely. One of them is under the name ¡®Noland Granmarg¡¯, and the other is for ¡®Ursula L. Caius¡¯. Neither of them stick out as a good reason to think these people won¡¯t sell me out the second I step out of my apartment.

    ¡°She¡¯s not convinced. Almost like a card could be faked, or that she doesn¡¯t deal in bank details like you do.¡± The woman says. ¡°Maybe try actually giving her the details instead of being cryptically vague?¡±

    ¡°But cryptically vague is my forte.¡± The man sighs in defeat and swipes the ¡®Noland Granmarg¡¯ card from my hands. He pulls out his phone and fiddles with it for a second, then turns it around to show me an account with¡­ holy shit, that a lot of zeroes. ¡°There. We aren¡¯t going to betray you because we don¡¯t need the money.¡±

    Once I manage to pick my jaw up off the floor, something comes to me. ¡°If you don¡¯t need the money, then why the hell are you selling class coins?¡±

    ¡°To spread notoriety.¡± The woman responds before the man can, which makes him deflate a little. ¡°We get them into people¡¯s hands who don¡¯t deserve them. A bunch of them don¡¯t come back. Info spreads like wildfire, and suddenly, there¡¯s a good layer of fear clouding the greed. People don¡¯t kill each other over class coins like they used to, and now everyone uses us or the Preservation as a middleman to make sure selling class coins is safe.¡±

    The man nods in agreement, but he¡¯s obviously annoyed he didn¡¯t get to explain it. ¡°We take a small fee for every sale¨Ctwo point five percent. And that goes to the upkeep of the website and paying the people who go out to make sure the deals happen safely. We tried doing it for free for a little while, but that made people suspicious. We tried out a bunch of different fees, and eventually settled on the one we have now.¡±

    ¡°Two point five percent of ten million bucks is still a lot.¡± I point out. ¡°But¡­ that doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯re still going around collecting coins to sell. Do you even have a boss to report to?¡±

    ¡°I am my own boss.¡± The man says with a smirk. ¡°Just because the orders were my own, it doesn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t ordered to do something. Besides¡­ there¡¯s one very specific reason why we¡¯d want Worth classes. One that has to do with making sure the Class Coin gets into someone¡¯s hands who we don¡¯t want in the picture any more.¡±

    Pearl gasps. I frown as I try to understand what he¡¯s insinuating¡­ until it hits me. And it really hits me. ¡°You¡¯re sending people to their deaths. On purpose.¡±

 Chapter 50: Together

    ¡°Bingo.¡± The woman laughs coldly. ¡°Some people don¡¯t deserve to get an easy class and come back to torture everyone around them. So we give them exactly what they want. It isn¡¯t our fault that the system has a hate-on for Worth classes. I mean, look at you¨Cif anyone we gave the coin to was actually competent, they might¡¯ve made it back alive.¡±

    ¡°Still. That¡¯s just¡­ flat out murder with one extra step.¡± I say, fully expecting to feel disgusted at the realization. But I don¡¯t. Not at all, actually. ¡°How do you choose?¡±

    The man gestures at the woman proudly. ¡°Extensive research on her part before any sale goes through. We always keep a Worth class coin on hand¨Cused to, now¨Cand if we find someone trying to buy a coin who doesn¡¯t deserve to exist, we send the system a hand-wrapped package to deal with. And once it comes back we keep the actual coin for ourselves to dole out to someone who can make better use of it.¡±

    With a grunt, the woman stands up and gestures at the door. ¡°He¡¯s making it seem a lot more valiant than it is. I just check to see if the buyer¡¯s scum, then we swap the coin out before the actual sale goes through. When we saw that you didn¡¯t get floored by the bio-magical pulse from the coin appearing, we gave you the chance to prove yourself.¡±

    I look between the two of them. And¡­ I don¡¯t have an argument. They could¡¯ve easily taken the coin from me back then. Hell, they even egged me on to use it. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s because they believed I had a chance to survive, or if they thought they could just find the coin again after I instantly died, but they gave me a chance.

    ¡°They¡¯re the only reason you met me.¡± Pearl says quietly. ¡°And Illumisia. I don¡¯t completely agree with their methods¡­ but I also don¡¯t disagree with them. Maybe once I learn more about Earth I¡¯ll lean to one side or the other, but for now¡­ I think you can trust them, Shelby. Not enough to tell them about me, though. Or Illumisia. Or how you actually got the shellraiser tech you¡¯re using.¡±

    ¡°So it''s more like a business relationship.¡± I say aloud, equally as much to Pearl as it is to the two nameless people before me. ¡°I can live with that. You¡¯re Ursula and Noland?¡±

    The man shakes his head. ¡°Not technically. Gave up our old names when we got Class Coins, but we¡¯ve been going by the new ones so long they feel more natural than the old ones. If you want I can come up with an alias for you, and then you¡¯ll have access to the account. Well you¡¯ll still have access to it even if you want to keep going by Shelby. No pressure on the whole thing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep my name, thanks.¡± I say as I reach down to grab my duffel bags. ¡°How¡¯d you find my coins, anyway? And don¡¯t lie to me and say it was luck; I left one of them in the sewers.¡±

    Noland waggles a finger and clicks his tongue. ¡°That is something I won¡¯t disclose immediately. My partner might be blocking our conversation from getting out to the Preservation, but that doesn¡¯t mean I want to go spilling class secrets outside of a safe place. We¡¯ll talk in the car instead.¡±

    The car. They¡¯ve got magic, and quite possibly the ability to teleport, and they drive a car. Something that¡¯s not just conspicuous as hell, but able to be touched by the apocalypse and turned into a metal-magic-monstrosity. I silently voice my opposition as the two stretch and walk out of my apartment like I didn¡¯t just have a blade to Noland¡¯s neck.

    ¡°That¡¯s one way to formally meet.¡± I sigh and heft my bags over my shoulders. ¡°Give me two minutes to write my roommate an apology and I¡¯ll follow you down.¡±

    Ursula shoots Noland a look. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t look at me. You¡¯re the one monitoring their movements.¡±

    She huffs and jumps the railing, landing with her knees bent as she spins a keyring with a pair of metal tags on it around her finger. ¡°Two minutes. If I feel magic, you come down and leave that note half-written. Phones are safe to use where we¡¯re going, so you can call her then.¡±

    I nod and grab the notepad off the fridge, grab a pen from the counter jar, and start writing. As quickly as possible I note everything even slightly important¨Cthat I got a class, that I was in the other world for two weeks, and that I¡¯m leaving again for the foreseeable future. I tell her that she should probably start looking for another roommate, and that I¡¯ll send her a few months worth of rent to make up for everything if I don¡¯t end up dead by the end of the month.

    Of course I leave out everything that could be incriminating. And that has anything to do with Pearl, Illumisia, or really anything that happened before I got to Palastia. Makes the letter a lot shorter than I intended it to be.

    Lifting the pen from the paper feels¡­ empty. There¡¯s so much I didn¡¯t tell her¨Ccan¡¯t tell her¨Cand she¡¯ll just have to worry about it. That sucks. Hard. I only met Jazz in first year, and we didn¡¯t even hit it off right away, but she¡¯s been the only person there for me this entire time. As is made even more obvious by her dozens of messages compared to everyone else¡¯s zero.

    Against my better judgment I scribble one last line¨Ca promise I know I probably won¡¯t be able to keep¨Cand slide the note into the basket of meds on top of the fridge. Promising myself that I¡¯ll come back for her. That I¡¯ll¡­ tell her everything. She¡¯ll find it there. I know she will. With one last look around the apartment¨Cat multiple wasted years of my life¨CI palm my keys and feel nothing for the place. Jazz is the only thing I regret leaving behind.

    ¡°That was nice.¡± Pearl murmurs as I lock the door from the outside and try the knob just to make sure. ¡°Even if it¡¯s just a sentiment, I hope it¡¯ll make Jazz feel a little better. Maybe she won¡¯t worry as much.¡±

    It won¡¯t. We probably won¡¯t ever see each other again¨Cjust like most people who get classes. Hell, just earlier today, I didn''t even think Jazz cared this much about me. But after seeing all her texts¡­ even when it was obvious I wasn¡¯t responding¡­ shit, I just didn¡¯t think anyone cared. I swallow around a lump in my throat and put on the face I think Ursula and Noland are expecting.

    Noland smacks the roof of the car with a wide grin as I turn towards it. ¡°Time¡¯s wasting, Shelby. If we want to outrun the Preservation, we¡¯ll have to burn rubber.¡±

    Ursula rolls down the driver¡¯s side window and sticks her head out. ¡°Don¡¯t smack the car.¡±

    He raises his hands and steps away from the car. ¡°Right. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be sorry¨Cstop doing it. I¡¯ve told you at least a dozen damn times.¡± She grumbles and leans back into the car, save for one arm that she gestures back at me with. ¡°You¡¯re in the back. It¡¯s safer there, and Noland will make sure any stray spells or bullets don¡¯t take you from us.¡±

    The trunk pops open with a mechanical click. A golden mist pours out and onto the ground, revealing a lush golden velvet interior that shimmers like an entire jewelry store. Noland mutters to himself about being stuck with ¡®backseat duty¡¯ again, but pulls open the right side back door anyway. I shake my head at the absolute contrast between him now and a few minutes ago, place both of my duffel bags in the back, and press the trunk shut as gently as I can. Then I walk to the side of the car, grip the handle with my fingers, and twitch violently as magic pulses through my body.

    What I¡¯d only been able to see as a ¡®car¡¯ a moment ago is now a vibrant ocean blue muscle car. Modified to be a four-door with a roaring engine sticking through the hood and wave-like patterns of gold that crash against the car¡¯s sides. I blink a few times as the magic cements itself in my body, throw open the door, and slide into a seat separated from Noland by just a few feet. But not before I drop a relocation-filled coin onto the pavement. My last contingency for now.

    Ursula adjusts the mirror with one hand and taps on the steering wheel with the other. ¡°Seatbelts.¡±

    I¡¯m already in the process of clicking mine in. But her eyes in the mirror aren¡¯t looking at me¨Cthey¡¯re staring a hole through Noland. He rolls his eyes and makes a show of snapping his in as theatrically as possible.

    ¡°You forget your seatbelt one time¨Cone time¨Cand she won¡¯t let you live it down.¡± he sighs. ¡°There, car tyrant. Happy?¡±

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Yup. Let¡¯s hope we get lucky this time.¡±

    The car screeches against the pavement as Ursula floors it, rocketing out of the parking lot and onto the two-car wide street. I smack against the door with a grunt of pain at the sudden and violent motion, then scramble for the handle above my door with one hand and search for something else with the other. It finds a very sweaty hand, connected to Noland, who looks a little paler than a few seconds ago. And who is also clutching the handle above his door. He offers me an apologetic smile, then pulls down the cupholder insert and grips his side for dear life.

    I¡¯m inclined to do the same. Considering we seem to be going about two-hundred in a thirty zone, and every turn feels like I¡¯m going to get thrown out of the car. It¡¯s honestly impressive how well Ursula keeps control of the car at these speeds. But I¡¯m not in any place to be impressed. I¡¯m just trying to keep my seatbelt from crushing me.

    Pearl sighs contentedly. Somehow. ¡°I wish I could be out there with you. I miss the rumble and violence of a good machine made with absurd specs and very little concern for whoever has the misfortune of controlling it. Which was usually me, since I was one of the few people who enjoyed it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be very happy to change places with you if I could.¡± I grind through clenched teeth, but keep my eyes focused on Ursula to make it look like I¡¯m talking to her. ¡°I think one of my fillings is coming loose.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have fillings, remember? Illumisia replaced all your teeth.¡± Pearl reminds me.

    I had, in fact, almost forgotten about that. And the thought is bashed from my head as my head careens off my arm, which in turn smacks against the doorframe. I groan in discomfort, try to steady myself as best as I can, and turn to Noland. Who is definitely getting progressively paler.

    ¡°You said we¡¯d talk important stuff when we were in the car.¡± I state through the vibrations. ¡°We¡¯re in the car now. Talk important stuff.¡±

    ¡°Can it wait until¡­ urp¡­ we get to straight road?¡±

    ¡°I guess so, yeah.¡±

    Ursula laughs from the front as she shifts the gears. ¡°Babies.¡±

    <hr>

    I¡¯ve never been so happy to see a highway in my entire life. Straight road, no cars thanks to the Preservation evacuating the city, and a serious lack of construction. It¡¯s like every unlikely thing lined up to give us a few dozen minutes of respite from Ursula enjoying driving a little too much.

    ¡°Remind me to fix the stabilizing magic before I drive with you again.¡± Noland groans in discomfort.

    ¡°Like I did last time, and the time before that?¡± Ursula looks back at Noland in the mirror and raises an eyebrow. ¡°Keep forgetting, and I¡¯m going to start thinking that some sick part of you actually enjoys this.¡±

    Noland vigorously shakes his head, then stops suddenly and goes green. ¡°Bad idea. And I definitely won¡¯t forget.¡±

    I unpeel my fingers from the handle and force my hands into my lap. Pearl makes a comment about my state of mind, but the truth is that I don¡¯t feel sick at all. Just¡­ as shaken as a cat in a dryer. It¡¯s everything but my stomach that¡¯s having troubles right now.

    ¡°Okay, important talking now.¡± I say as I stretch my jaw. ¡°Let¡¯s start with where you¡¯re taking me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s barely important. But if that¡¯s what you want to start with, then sure.¡± Ursula shrugs and leans back a little in her seat. ¡°We¡¯ve got a highly protected resort that¡¯s been modified into a safe place for anyone with a Class. You¡¯ll have a free room, food, clothes, and some entertainment if you want to take it easy between summonings.¡±

    Noland nods ever so slightly in agreement. ¡°There¡¯s another option, too, if you don¡¯t want to sit back and relax. That¡¯s the option that gets you a nearly unlimited budget and access to more important facilities.¡±

    From the way he said that, it doesn¡¯t sound close to legal. And from the look Ursula gives him, he definitely wasn¡¯t supposed to mention it. Not now, at least.

    ¡°That sounds¡­ fine.¡± I say cautiously. ¡°I guess not having to worry about the Preservation or the apocalypse will be nice. You two know my class. You even know about how Worth classes get shit on by the system. How?¡±

    Noland chuckles weakly and gestures at Ursula. ¡°There¡¯s one simple answer for that. Think about it for all of ten seconds, and it¡¯ll¨C¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re both Worth classes.¡± Ursula interrupts him. ¡°I¡¯m the Mercenary. He¡¯s the Banker. Our colleague is the Architect, and we¡¯ve both met the Merchant. That¡¯s every single Worth class we¡¯ve ever come across, and we¡¯ve come across a lot of classes. We figured out that there must only be one of each after your class kept reappearing close-ish to where the person used it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That.¡± Noland says with a sigh. ¡°It looks like there¡¯s only one of each Worth class, and each class has a unique set of primary stats. The fact we¡¯ve only seen five of them makes it look like everyone else is in hiding, but¡­ well, let¡¯s just say we don¡¯t think every coin is in use right now.¡±

    I tilt my head to the side at his insinuation. ¡°You think the system summoned the coins where nobody would find them?¡±

    It¡¯s Ursula¡¯s turn to nod. ¡°That or someone has a coin and isn¡¯t using it. We found your coin with this guy¡¯s skill,¡± She gestures back at Noland for emphasis, ¡°which is the same way we found your spell-infused coins. Can¡¯t tell you the specifics for safety reasons, but there¡¯s a very good reason we aren¡¯t still in Canada right now.¡±

    ¡°Because there aren¡¯t any class coins up there?¡± I ask with a frown. ¡°That seems really unlikely.¡±

    ¡°Not just class coins¨CWorth coins specifically.¡± Noland corrects me. ¡°They give off a completely different feeling than other class coins, and we scoured every inch of Canadian soil for them. We found your coin up in Edmonton, and we¡¯ve been chasing the afterimage of another ever since. I¡¯ll tell you the whole story some other, safer time.¡±

    Pearl giggles in my ear. ¡°Ooh, a hint that you¡¯ll be sticking around with them for a while. They really want you for some reason. Make sure they tell you why.¡±

    That is a very good point. One that¡¯s a little insulting, since my amazing personality should be more than enough for people to want me. Still, I can¡¯t argue that they¡¯re being seemingly very generous to someone that they shouldn¡¯t trust for shit.

    ¡°Alright; time for the big question.¡± I take a deep breath and solidify the connection to the coin back near my apartment. ¡°Why am I actually here?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re a Worth class who came back.¡± Noland answers without hesitation. ¡°One of only five we¡¯ve got on record. We know how¡­ weak you are compared to the ¡®real¡¯ classes, since we¡¯ve gone through it ourselves. They might be able to hold their own on the run, but not you. Not us. We have to stick together.¡±

    He looks up at Ursula, who just nods quietly in agreement.

    ¡°Each and every Worth class has a skill that no other class can replicate.¡± She continues where he left off. ¡°One that works in our world. These skills aren¡¯t reality-warping levels of powerful, but when you put them together, you get a way to make sure everyone goes back to the other world a little bit stronger than they left it. And when we use them on other Worth classes, we can trade services instead of spending Worth to use them.¡±

    Bargaining? What makes Worth classes different is¡­ bargaining. Okay, maybe I¡¯m just not understanding how impactful this actually is. There¡¯s gotta be another layer to this I¡¯m missing. Like¡­ uh¡­ huh. I can¡¯t come up with anything right now. That¡¯s concerning.

    I lean on one elbow and glance out the window to watch the scenery whizz past. Fields of fenced-in crops with domes of a tech-magic fusion keep out the apocalypse¡¯s influence as best as possible, but are mostly there to stop cars that get touched from hopping off the highway and ruining a season¡¯s harvest. Trees and everything else grow way taller than they did before the apocalypse, pulsing with magic as canopies threaten to scrape the sky and blot out the sun.

    And then there¡¯s all the scrap. Junked cars, things the Preservation couldn¡¯t clean up, and a whole lot of random garbage so tainted with magic that nobody dares go close to it. I swear a broken washing machine growls at us as we speed by, its drum rotating with rusty metal spikes that would make cleaning any clothes a real hassle. Everything is a reminder of how we have to live. The pristine highway under our car is a miracle in that regard, but if I look a little deeper into it, I¡¯d probably see a whole lot of magic worked into it.

    ¡°Shelby! The trees!¡±

    My awareness flares at the sound of Pearl¡¯s voice. I snap to the trees, and for a split second, nothing.

    Light flashes through the forest. Two at first, like headlights a dozen feet in the air, bleeding bright white through the darkness of the canopy. I poke Noland to get his attention, and as he slowly turns around, the two lights turn into four. Then dozens. Then hundreds. All different shapes, sizes, and intensities. When he finally gets his head looking the right way, the entire section of the forest looks like it¡¯s watching us.

    Waiting to strike.

    ¡°City limits.¡± He mutters hastily to himself. ¡°Ursula, are we still in the greater city limits?¡±

    She glances down at her lap, then out the window at the lights. ¡°Fifty miles. Fifteen minutes if we¡¯re not interrupted. Can you hold them off that long?¡±

    Noland snarls as his hands start to drip with liquid golden light. ¡°That doesn¡¯t depend on me. It depends on who the Preservation sent to deal with the dragonjet.¡±

 Chapter 51: Fifty Miles

    I look between the lights in the forest and Ursula a few times, then flex my fingers and split some more Worth into ghost quarters. It¡¯s a little hard to flip them discreetly, but if anyone already knows how my skills work, it¡¯ll be her and Noland. Two heads land in quick succession, and I switch them to my left hand to flip some more.

    ¡°Why fifty miles?¡± I ask as the gold dripping from Noland¡¯s hands starts to coat the interior of the car in a magical sheen. ¡°Can they not follow us after that?¡±

    ¡°Lord, no, sister.¡± Ursula laughs. ¡°If anything, they''ll go a lot harder when we¡¯re not bound by city laws. Unfortunately for us, it¡¯s one of those city laws that¡¯s keeping us from using one of the Architect¡¯s and Noland¡¯s joint efforts to teleport the hell out of here.¡±

    I blink a few times, then lean in with a frown. ¡°Excuse me? We can teleport out of here and we¡¯re not doing that right now?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d break a law.¡± Noland says with a shrug. ¡°No long-range teleporting within any greater city limits. And if you don¡¯t want one of the Preservation¡¯s Lawbringers bearing down on us with the fury of a thousand angry suns, then we can¡¯t break any laws. Not the ironclad ones, at least.¡±

    One of the lights starts to move through the forest, then erupts into a spray of tiny green spheres. They pepper the side of the car like hail, and with a grunt Ursula struggles with the wheel to keep the thing from spinning out of control. Still the car gets shoved from the far left lane all the way to the far right, and the spray doesn¡¯t show any signs of stopping.

    I duck down below the window, which is starting to crack under the magical barrage, and shove a shield into one of the six ghost quarters I managed to prepare. The second I hear glass shatter a shield goes up in its place.

    ¡°Noland! What the hell are you doing?!¡± Ursula demands without taking her eyes off the road. ¡°It¡¯s your damn job to protect the car!¡±

    ¡°Well, sorry, but I¡¯m a little preoccupied with overwhelming dizziness and a lunch that wants to meet you again!¡± He snaps back. ¡°Give me eight seconds and it¡¯ll be done! Would¡¯ve been less if you were actually watching out, like you were supposed to, and Shelby didn¡¯t have to call out the Preservation!¡±

    Ursula bites her lip in frustration, but it quickly bleeds away to confusion. She glances at me in the mirror for a split second, then goes right back to the road. ¡°Well, if you actually kept the car in good shape, then you wouldn¡¯t have these issues in the first place. So quit your bitching and do your job.¡±

    ¡°I am.¡± Noland grunts, but from how his gold is slowly filling the car, eight seconds is a longshot. Hell, it¡¯s probably been longer than eight seconds since he said eight seconds. I have no idea what he¡¯s trying to do with his spell, but if all that needs to be done is to block the green hail for a few seconds, I can easily do that.

    I press two coins against the door, take a deep breath, and envision two shields locking together to perfectly protect my side of the car.

    ¡°What¡¯re you¨C¡± Noland starts, but stops the moment my shields flash into view. ¡°I forgot you aren¡¯t useless like a lot of the others we pick up. Buy me¡­ say¡­ thirty more seconds? Or is that too much of a strain on your brain?¡±

    ¡°You think I can¡¯t keep up two shields for thirty seconds?¡± I jut a thumb out my window at my shields, which don¡¯t have a single crack in them yet. ¡°Against a weak-ass spell like this that can¡¯t even break a window? Please; I had to hold off a painted dane that kept teleporting its body into my shields like a dumb, fleshy missile. As long as they don¡¯t send in the big ones, I¡¯ve got this.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯re on protection duty for now.¡± As he speaks, the gold in his hands starts to harden and form long, drooping crystals. ¡°Ursula, I¡¯m hiring you to protect this car from the Preservation until we¡¯re out of greater city limits. I¡¯ve got the wheel from back here.¡±

    ¡°You should be the one driving.¡± Pearl cuts in as Ursula reaches into the passenger¡¯s seat and flicks open her briefcase. ¡°I can watch the road, and your awareness will take over whenever we have to defend the car. But¡­ is that what we want to do? Do we want these people to keep underestimating you instead?¡±

    Good question. One that I¡¯d love to ponder about on my own time, but a flare of awareness tells me that I don¡¯t have the luxury of introspection. Only one of the lights has attacked us so far. Once they realize that we¡¯re not getting run off the road, that¡¯ll change. From how my awareness already warned me, it looks like we¡¯re getting dangerously close to that point. Question is; do I warn them, or do I try and weather whatever they throw at us?

    As if to answer my question, my awareness flares once again. This time alerting me to something on the other side of the road¨Cfrom the farmland, not the tree cover. I snap to it and try to see what¡¯s happening, but there¡¯s nothing to see. Maybe¡­ invisible enemies? Spells that don¡¯t have a physical form? It could be anything, but whatever it is, it¡¯s coming at the exact same time as the one on the other side. Without the green hail letting up to make room for it.

    ¡°Damn it.¡± I mutter to myself and ready more shields. ¡°Please don¡¯t end up costing me way too much.¡±

    The air shimmers with heat as massive hexagonal pillars of white-hot metal burst into existence. I throw two coins against the other side of the car, right past a surprised Noland, and get the shields up just in time. The pillars crash into my shields, sizzling and boiling the magic with magic of their own, and then they start to turn. One moves towards the front while the other goes towards the back.

    If they were stuck to the car, which I assume was the point, we¡¯d be being steered off the road right now. Instead, I¡¯m stuck with rapidly degrading shields and a spray of molten steel peppering the road. My eye twitches as my awareness struggles to keep a hold of the shields in the face of whatever magic is embedded in the pillars, and I throw a few more layers of shields in there for the inevitable break.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of coins, sister.¡± Ursula says with one leg through the¡­ window? What? ¡°Don¡¯t give yourself an aneurysm trying to protect my paint job. That¡¯s Noland¡¯s job.¡±

    I try to smile, but it comes out like a pained scowl. ¡°Well, when he puts up a spell that stops the massive turning rods from touching the car, I¡¯ll take a break.¡±

    ¡°Turning rods? Of course they adapted.¡± Noland sighs and taps his forehead with a finger coated in crystallized gold. ¡°Once they realized they can¡¯t destroy us, they went for derailing us. Well, two can play the adaptation game.¡±

    He places his thumbs against the nails of his middle and pointer fingers, then flicks his fingers towards the seat as if he were trying to get something off of them. The gold around the car flares bright for a split second, then expands a dozen feet in an instant. What was previously a tightly hugging coating of gold now hovers far away, pushing both my shields and the rods to the outer limits.

    I grunt at the newfound strain, then call off my shields. The rods slam into Noland¡¯s gold, where they aren¡¯t instantly stopped. Instead they poke a few feet into the dome, slowing down inch by inch, until a thicker gold coating stops them in their tracks. Noland nods to himself in confirmation, then goes right back to whatever else he was doing. And I finally notice that nobody¡¯s in the driver¡¯s seat; just a coating of gold that controls the wheel, pedals, and gearshift.

    And there¡¯s footsteps coming from the roof.

    ¡°Ursula¡¯s on the roof. What¡¯s she doing on the roof?¡±

    An explosion of gunfire puts a stop to all my wondering. A deluge of gold tinged white bullets blur towards the treeline, and a dozen lights blink out as impacts and screams ring out. Something bluish-grey erupts into a massive bottom-heavy pillar, sending even more lights scattering and spawning even more pillars.

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    I blink in disbelief and flick a coin into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°I¡¯m going to pretend that makes sense. And I¡¯m taking over driving now. You focus on defending us.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ okay?¡± Noland states hesitantly as I relocate into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Do you know how to drive a manual?¡±

    I don¡¯t validate that question with a response. I kick the gold away from the pedals and click my seatbelt into place, take a deep breath, and place my left hand on the wheel. My right goes to the shifter, and I open myself up to my awareness as best as I can. Pearl responds by flooding me with her own, granting me a black-tinged sensation of everything around us.

    Including how the car works, which is important since I didn¡¯t know how to drive stick a second ago.

    Ursula¡¯s gunfire doesn¡¯t let up one inch. It¡¯s periodically joined by the eruption of some spell or another fired from the treeline, Noland upping his shield, or the roar of magically-enhanced explosives zipping away from our roof and towards things I can only feel with my awareness. Something goes up in a fireball, spiralling over the farmland in a strange mixture of flashing magic and a half-revealed enhanced military vehicle. It spins around all of two times before another pillar completely engulfs it, stopping the spiral dead in its tracks.

    ¡°What are the pillars?¡± I ask over the roar of the road.

    ¡°Think of them as super advanced airbags!¡± Ursula answers from the roof, her voice completely unshaken by the constant gun and spellfire. ¡°I¡¯m using non-lethal means, but that doesn¡¯t mean their rides know that. Why¡¯re you in the driver¡¯s seat, again?¡±

    Darkness flares before my eyes, coating ninety percent of the road in absolute nothing. I don¡¯t need Pearl to explain what that means, and I angle the car towards the one opening before it too starts to close.

    ¡°Ramp it!¡± Pearl cries out in excitement. ¡°Let¡¯s see how well this machine flies!¡±

    That sounds like an absolutely horrible idea. But the entire world turning shades of black freaks me out way more than the thought of wrecking Ursula¡¯s car. I split two Worth into skeletal quarters, then force them into shields angled together like a ramp.

    ¡°Hold on for dear life!¡± I cry out in warning as the invisible things ahead shimmer ever so slightly.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Ursula hisses as footprints appear in the ceiling, cemented by rings of marble with gold accents shooting through the metal. ¡°They must have a cloaker onboard somewhere!¡±

    ¡°Really? I couldn¡¯t tell!¡± Noland snaps back. ¡°All the semi-invisible tanks on the farm side definitely didn¡¯t give it away!¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡± I hiss and grit my teeth as the front wheels touch the first ramp. ¡°Noland, soften our landing somehow!¡±

    Another shield joins the first, lengthening the run-up and making the jump way higher than I¡¯m comfortable with. The shields shatter under the weight of the car and Noland¡¯s magic, but they last just long enough to get us airborne. We sail over a barricade of military grey vehicles with mint green accents and symbols, our own screams only drowned out by the panicked orders barked by the armored people below us. Spells that were meant to contain us die out on fingertips as people look up at us in confusion and disbelief as we sail further and further than I expected.

    Going two hundred miles an hour over a ramp in a magic muscle car will do that. I swallow my scream and tighten my knuckles on the wheel, my palm pressed horrifically hard into the shifter. Noland¡¯s screaming his ass off while he traces his dripping hands through the air like some kind of golden piss wizard, and I hope against hope that his flailing has a purpose, not just panic.

    Pearl coughs to get my attention. ¡°He¡¯s got a lot of magic in those motions. If he¡¯s going to fail, your awareness would be flaring right now. Don¡¯t trust him; trust yourself.¡±

    Right. Trust my awareness. Trust Pearl. I glance out the side window at the treeline and all the new lights that line it for miles, and my awareness flares like a fireworks display. But they¡¯re just that¨Cflashes of awareness. No warnings, no danger. Noland¡¯s shield will hold. All I have to do is focus on the road. Ursula and Noland don¡¯t want to die, either, so they¡¯ll fight with everything they¡¯ve got.

    The front of the car slams into the road with a sickening crunch. My everything rockets forward, only to be stopped by a seatbelt coated in liquid gold. Instead of pain at the sudden impact, relief spreads through my chest and into my lungs. I blink a few times to try and sort out what definitely should¡¯ve happened, but I can¡¯t even start to make sense of it. Whatever Noland did didn¡¯t just prevent the impact¨Cit turned it into comfort.

    Both back wheels slam down a moment later, and the car squeals off unaffected by the landing. Ursula barks out a quick laugh for the moment her gunfire stops. It resumes in spades right after, accompanied by a crescendo of spells and ammunition assaulting Noland¡¯s barrier. Lightning bolts, fireballs, icicles, even a chunk of half-formed obsidian; they¡¯re throwing everything but the kitchen sink at us now.

    Which has to mean we¡¯re getting close to escaping.

    Orange flashes over my eyes. It trails down the road, then branches off into two separate paths. One that continues straight as an arrow, and the other that¡­ veers off of the road. Through a guard rail and into the ditch. I narrow my eyes at the strange intrusion of Fate, but I know better than to ignore whatever the hell is about to happen.

    ¡°Noland!¡± I call over my shoulder. ¡°Flip a coin!¡±

    He summons a single coin that glimmers like the sun on a calm sea. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter why, just flip it!¡± I order as I mentally assign heads to straight and tails to going off road. ¡°Do it!¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay! You don¡¯t have to yell.¡± He mutters and flicks the coin off his thumbnail.

    It spins a few times as it reaches its apex, then the world slows down and my awareness prickles incessantly. Everything goes monochrome. Both sides of the coin emit a dull grey aura; one like a weak fire and the other like mist rolling off dry ice. Neither of them feel like the binary correct choice, but luckily for me, I¡¯m not making a choice.

    Twist Fate.

    Heads or Tails.

    Best or Worst.

    It¡¯s never as clean as black or white.

    Call it.

    ¡°Best for me.¡±

    Everything flashes grey. The coin stops spinning instantly and plummets into Noland¡¯s hand. He lets out a yip of surprise, then raises the coin with confusion plainly written on his face.

    ¡°What does tails mean?¡±

    I click my tongue in annoyance and jam the steering wheel to the right. The car barrels towards the guardrail perfectly following the line of Fate that was laid out for me. And¡­ only me, apparently, since neither Noland nor Ursula have said anything about it.

    Noland white-knuckles the handle and screams. ¡°WHAT DOES TAILS MEAN, SHELBY?!¡±

    The car smashes through the guard rail. Sparks fly and a chunk of metal gets lodged into the barrier, but we keep going nonetheless. Noland never stops screaming, and Ursula curses me out for my apparent lack of driving skills, but I know I¡¯m right. Wheels meet ditch as I cut hard left to keep us from rolling, and I floor it to the absolute maximum while Noland¡¯s spell keeps traction on the dirt.

    ¡°I swear to god, sister, you better know what you¡¯re doing!¡± Ursula yells. ¡°Or else you¡¯re paying for the damages!¡±

    Just because I know I¡¯m right, doesn¡¯t mean I know what I¡¯m doing. But I¡¯m sure as hell not telling them that. I shift the gear up one more time, into a slot that¡¯s labeled ¡®magic¡¯, and ignore the barrage of magic and munitions that¡¯s only getting more intense by the second.

    ¡°Halt!¡±

    A harsh, androgynous voice cuts through the air like a knife. All at once everything stops, as if the spells and bullets were directly under the control of the voice all this time. For a handful of seconds, the only noise is my tires against the dirt and Ursula¡¯s gunfire. Then Ursula stops, and it¡¯s only the sound of my wheels digging up the countryside.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I ask reluctantly. ¡°We haven¡¯t gone fifty miles yet. Hell, we¡¯ve barely hit thirty five. Why are they giving up?¡±

    Noland swallows hard. ¡°They aren¡¯t giving up.¡±

    Ursula kicks in the passenger side window and slides into the seat with a grim frown stitched onto her lips. ¡°You feel it in the air, too?¡±

    I look between them in growing panic. ¡°What? Feel what? What¡¯s happening?¡±

    Pearl points up through the windshield. ¡°Shelby. Look.¡±

    I lean in and try to follow her finger, even if it¡¯s just an image she planted in my brain. But it¡¯s not hard to follow when there¡¯s a gigantic hole in the sky, like one of those wormholes from science fiction, but coloured mint green and leaking dull grey fluid like a drainpipe. Something starts to reach out of it, with hands the size of shipping containers and forearms that pulse with enough magic to wipe a small nation off the map.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ one of ours?¡± Pear whispers with a mixture of anger and awe. ¡°How did it get here?¡±

 Chapter 52: Safety At A Cost

    A shiver the size of mount everest rockets down my spine as Pearl looks wistfully at the massive mech crawling free of the dripping wormhole. I swallow around a suddenly dry mouth and try to look away, but it¡¯s impossible. The chunky grey and mint green thing is the furthest away from the shellraiser aesthetic I know, but if Pearl says it¡¯s one of hers, then I¡¯m not going to argue.

    ¡°We need to get the hell out of here.¡± All three of us say at once.

    ¡°No, we need to kill it.¡± Pearl argues with only me. ¡°They don¡¯t deserve to have a piece of our history, even if it¡¯s a replica. But if it¡¯s one of the originals they modified¡­ they can¡¯t keep it, Shelby. We need to take it back.¡±

    Yeah, that ain¡¯t happening. The thing pulls itself fully free of the hole in the sky, ignites something on its back that sprays gray flames to keep it hovering in the air, and opens up its chest to reveal a pulsing mass of mint green magic. Magic that I can feel from here without my awareness. With my awareness, it feels like staring directly into the sun from just a few feet away.

    ¡°How much further?!¡± Noland asks in a panic. ¡°Can we make it?!¡±

    Ursula shakes her head in despair. ¡°See those two little stains still in the wormhole? They brought reinforcements for the reinforcements. Probably Whisper and Shout, and if not them, then two members of the Speakers.¡±

    My eyes widen at the mention of the Speakers. I¡¯d always thought they were people the Preservation made up as propaganda and a way to sell comic books and video games. If they¡¯re real people¡­ holy hell, we can¡¯t fight even one of them.

    ¡°We¡¯re running?¡± Pearl asks quietly. ¡°Shelby¡­ please. I know they¡¯re powerful, but we can¡¯t just leave my people¡¯s graves behind. Someone could be stuck in constant death in that mech. We need to give them rest.¡±

    ¡°Not right now. But I promise you; we will come back for them. And we will take what they stole from your people back.¡± I say as quietly as possible, and luckily enough, it seems like both Ursula and Noland are too preoccupied with impending death to notice me talking to myself. ¡°I¡¯m too weak now. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Pearl is silent for a few long seconds. ¡°...I¡¯m weak too. When we¡¯re both strong enough, we¡¯ll do this together. And we¡¯ll rely on each other, instead of me completely relying on you. I promise.¡±

    It¡¯s a nice sentiment, but the mass of crackling death in the mech¡¯s chest cavity seems to be getting bigger, brighter, and louder. Promises don¡¯t mean anything to the dead, and if neither Noland nor Ursula do something about it soon, we¡¯re about to be promiseless.

    ¡°Do something, damn it!¡± I yell at them. ¡°Break a damn rule or something! Just get us out of here!¡±

    Noland flails wildly in the back seat, eyes wide and mouth pinched shut with concentration. ¡°What do you think I¡¯m doing? Summonings like this take time, and it¡¯s infinitely harder since we¡¯re constantly moving! Just¡­ give me ten seconds! That¡¯s all I need!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re in any place to give you anything.¡± Ursula chuckles, leans back, and buckles her seat belt. ¡°If they hit the car, Shelby¡¯s gone. And they¡¯ll take both of us prisoner after some very long fights. Which you know is pretty much the same as being gone. Maybe we could¡¯ve won if it was just the mech, but with two Speakers, we¡¯d just be fighting for mutually assured destruction.¡±

    ¡°I know, I know, I know! Done!¡± Noland thrusts his hands forward with his palms pressing together, then slowly pulls them apart. Two pillars slam into the ditch a few hundred feet away, and a curtain of liquid gold begins to pour horizontally from one to the other. ¡°Go through! Through!¡±

    ¡°No shit!¡± I grunt and adjust the wheels as a blinding flash of green light eclipses the sun. ¡°We¡¯re dead. We¡¯re D. E. A. D. Dead. Stupid ass humans doing what the system couldn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Quit your bitching and gun it!¡± Ursula grabs the gearshift from me and slams it through the console. I feel the car shift into an even higher gear, and a roar escapes the engine along with enough magic smoke to choke a bear. Disbelief and frustration wash over me as my foot presses the pedal into the floor, which triggers another burst of magic and even more white and gold tinged smoke.

    ¡°We could¡¯ve done this the entire time, and you pull it out now?! What the hell is wrong with you?!¡± I demand angrily. ¡°We could¡¯ve been home free!¡±

    ¡°Rule number seventeen: no magical vehicle enhancements that may encourage the apocalypse to taint said vehicle.¡± The androgenous voice from before announces straight into my brain. Pearl grunts in annoyance at the intrusion, and somehow lowers the volume to acceptable levels. ¡°Shelby Thestalos. Ursula L. Caius. Noland Granmarg. Two of you are already known to us. From this day forward, all of you are wanted by every member of the Preservation. There is nowhere safe. You cannot run. Give up or be annihilated.¡±

    Without even giving us a second to give up, the mech launches its chest-blast with an ear-shattering boom. It shears through the air at breakneck speeds, and I try to slam my foot even further into the floor. We¡¯re just feet from the pillars¨CI can feel freedom. But we¡¯re not going fast enough. We aren¡¯t going to make it.

    The entire world goes green. My skin crackles like it¡¯s loaded with static, and I can feel my blood shivering in my veins. Noland¡¯s shield holds for the briefest of seconds, then¡­ holds. And holds. And holds yet again. I rip my eyes open and force the wheel into the right position as the horrible sound of the mech¡¯s attack pounds at my eardrums. The pillars are right there.

    My arms go numb. Noland screams in pain, and Ursula gurgles out something while she presses her hand against her chest. Awareness surges into me with a warcry from Pearl, and my brain starts to throb with all the horrific strain it¡¯s putting me under just to stay awake. Gold washes over the hood. The engine. And finally, everything else.

    Like a light being switched off, the pain stops. Noland and Ursula cough and startle in their seats, eyes searching frantically for something that isn¡¯t there. I let out a shuddering sigh and melt into my chair as the pillars behind me collapse into dust, but there isn¡¯t an energy blast here. Wherever ¡®here¡¯ is, it is absolutely dark, more than a little humid, and teeming with non-deadly magic.

    ¡°Holy shit, I didn¡¯t think mindsplitters were legal.¡± Ursula whispers into the darkness as she, too, melts into her seat. ¡°If Shelby wasn¡¯t here, they would¡¯ve got us. How¡¯d you resist it, sister?¡±

    ¡°Pure grit.¡± I respond flatly, then another explanation comes to me. ¡°Actually, more like dumb luck. My leg fell asleep on the pedal and I collapsed in a way that kept it floored.¡±

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    Noland laughs shakily and laces his fingers together. ¡°We got out of there because of dumb luck. Now that¡¯s a blow to the ego.¡±

    ¡°We couldn¡¯t have known they¡¯d use shit like mindsplitters. Now we do know, and they¡¯ll never work on us again.¡± Ursula says with finality as she opens her door. ¡°But we can¡¯t go out for a good long while. Not while the Preservation¡¯s got fresh bounties on our heads.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll have to wait until the Speakers get wind of some other criminals.¡± Noland agrees and steps out of the car. I do the same, stretching my back as my feet touch solid ground. ¡°I¡¯d give it six months before someone dangerous enough to draw the Preservation¡¯s attention away from us comes along. So we¡¯ll have to hole up here until then.¡±

    I stretch my arms over my head with a groan and walk over to the trunk. It clicks open before I can even touch it, revealing that neither of my bags have moved so much as an inch. Even the straps are still in the weird pile I left them in; almost like they¡¯ve been frozen in time since the moment I pressed the trunk shut. I blow out a breath and grab both of my bags, heft them out, and slam the trunk shut as hard as I can.

    Ursula winces at the noise, but I don¡¯t really give a shit. ¡°If the car can survive what it just survived, it can survive me slamming the trunk. Where the hell are we, and how is it safe?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but you don¡¯t have to slam it.¡± She sighs. With a gesture forward into the darkness, she starts walking. ¡°We¡¯re at the resort. Specifically the airlock into it, which we¡¯ve filled with so much magic and bullshit that the Preservation can¡¯t follow us.¡±

    Noland groans in agreement and offers nothing more. He stumbles to follow Ursula while holding his head and muttering something about ¡®the cost of staying alive¡¯. I choose to ignore him, just like Ursula does, and join them in their march into the darkness.

    Magic nips against my skin, flowing around me like a soft breeze carrying countless grains of sand. It brushes through my hair and catches on my clothes, taking tiny chunks of magic with them that fizzle and dissipate like dying sparklers. I follow one with my eyes, which takes a chunk as big as a strawberry and struggles to keep airborne until it shrinks down to the size of a pea.

    ¡°You feeling alright? The magic isn¡¯t screwing with you?¡± I ask Noland, who is obviously having a hard time, but it¡¯s really directed at Pearl. ¡°Is this place cutting off all the magic, or just foreign stuff?¡±

    Pearl answers first. ¡°I feel fine. I think it would be different if I was outside my shell, but it isn¡¯t hurting me. Um, it did sever the connection that I use to enhance your awareness, though. So it looks like it¡¯s destroying all the magic except for stuff that matches your Class somehow. That¡¯s pretty impressive stuff.¡±

    I exhale through my teeth and cross my arms. ¡®Impressive¡¯ doesn¡¯t even start to describe it; a spell that can not only undo all other spells, but that can do it for specifically spells that didn¡¯t come from the person being cleaned? And doing it to multiple people at the same time? That¡¯s not just a waste of time, it¡¯s completely unnecessary complexity. There¡¯s no way anyone would do this without a good reason.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, thank you.¡± Nolan finally responds. ¡°And no, this place isn¡¯t cleaning all magic; it¡¯s specifically targeting everything that doesn¡¯t belong to you.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Noland shrugs weakly. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Ask the Architect; she¡¯s the one that designed this place. She¡¯ll have an answer, but I¡¯m warning you¨Cit probably won¡¯t make sense. Everything she does she does for a reason, but those reasons aren¡¯t always¡­ logical.¡±

    ¡°Like making this place completely dark instead of installing lights.¡± Ursula pounds her fist against something that rings hollow for emphasis. ¡°A few fluorescents in here won¡¯t mess with the magic, and it¡¯d make a much friendlier first impression. Hell, I could install them in an afternoon. Maybe paint the interior and install some signs explaining what the hell is happening too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, like she¡¯d approve that.¡± Noland chuckles. ¡°Remember how hard it was to convince her to make the airlock bigger than a closet?¡±

    ¡°Ugh, don¡¯t remind me.¡± Ursula groans. ¡°She was so convinced we¡¯d be able to wait patiently for everyone to take their turn. Ever the optimist she was.¡±

    Noland¡¯s smile turns somber. ¡°She was. We all were, I guess. Well, maybe not Shelby here, since she seems a little too used to this for being brand new.¡±

    I roll my eyes and step into line with the two of them. ¡°Well, excuse me for getting recruited by two crazy people.¡±

    ¡°Are you talking about them or me and Illumisia?¡± Pearl asks.

    Both. I¡¯m talking about both.

    Soft metallic music chimes through the air. All the magic around us falls to the ground, where it seemingly gets absorbed into whatever material the floor is made of. I raise an eyebrow at Ursula for an explanation. She holds up a finger for me to wait until the music stops, then nods and presses her hand against the wall.

    Lines of golden magic creep out of the material and slither towards her hand, creating a glittering handprint that pushes back against her. It sticks out a good few inches before solidifying with a loud ¡®thunk¡¯, and Ursula takes a step to the side while gesturing at it with both hands.

    ¡°Do the honours, sister.¡±

    I step forward and look down at the ¡®button¡¯ that wove itself out of light. It feels overwhelmingly magical¨Clike a condensed version of a spell grafted onto a much larger spell. Something about it doesn¡¯t sit quite right with me for some reason, but after a few seconds of being completely unable to place my discomfort, I give in and press my hand against it.

    The handprint sinks back into the wall with a ¡®click¡¯. Gold strands slither away from the handprint to make long lines in the wall like the folds on a garage door, with vertical lines separating the folds into two. With a deep groan everything starts to push backwards. The folds disconnect at the middle as they do, breaking apart as they get further and further away.

    Light floods the dark room through thin cracks in the folds, revealing strange colours and circuitry running all through the bunker-like place. All the folds stop moving backwards with a heavy ¡®clunk¡¯, and instead start moving to the left or the right, moving out of the way to give me a good look at the resort.

    Colourful buildings stretch as far as the eye can see, each about as big as a single family house and made of some kind of wood-metal fusion. Every one of them either connects directly to a shimmering white sandy beach or the boardwalk nearby, spread out like a giant ring around a much more¡­ vibrant centerpiece.

    A skyscraper that stretches at least a hundred floors upwards. Shops and other things litter a massive clearing around it, where people seem to be listening to live music and living out their best lives. There¡¯s a lot more off in the distance that I can¡¯t make out, but I bet it¡¯s a lot like everything else. And¡­ there¡¯s a good amount of people. It¡¯s not super crowded, but I kind of expected a few dozen stray people like me. Not hundreds spread out over such a huge stretch of land. Especially not all the kids.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ actually a resort.¡± I say with mild surprise. ¡°Somehow, I didn''t expect that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, most people don¡¯t. Especially not after they walk out of the big ¡®ol bunker here.¡± Ursula taps on the airlock bunker with her knuckles, which starts to hiss shut at her touch. ¡°There¡¯s actually a good amount more than this to the resort, but most people stay here for the first little while. Since it¡¯s the safest.¡±

    Noland chuckles and elbows Ursula in the arm. ¡°You can just tell him people here are lazy. Why would you ever leave the beach if you¡¯re allowed to sit there sipping pina coladas all day every day?¡±

    ¡°I can think of more than one reason.¡± I say as I look out over the beach. Even though I know there aren¡¯t any, I can¡¯t help but imagine a red stain spreading through the pristine waters. ¡°So what¡¯s with all the kids?¡±

    ¡°People have families. And for some reason, they don¡¯t want to leave them behind. Selfish bastards.¡± Noland says with a sarcastic sigh. ¡°Our destination for now is that obvious skyscraper. Once we get you set up with access to everything, we¡¯ll give you a room and let you get settled in for the night. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.¡±

 Chapter 53: Check-In

    Check-in goes about as smoothly as it can. Noland goes off somewhere after a few minutes while Ursula leads me around the ground floor of the skyscraper, making sure each and every part of the resort has my name and face on record. Except she doesn¡¯t register me as Shelby; she registers me as ¡®The Gambler¡¯. And from how everyone refers to her as ¡®The Mercenary¡¯, I can see where she got the idea from.

    By the time we finally get through with everything my cheeks are starting to hurt from forcing so many closed-mouth smiles. After the first guy behind a counter almost shit himself from seeing my toothy smile, I figured that making an alright first impression was the smarter way to go. And once everything¡¯s all set up and done with, Noland makes his triumphant return with a brand new golden card pinched between his fingers.

    ¡°Here you go; hot off the presses.¡± He says as he takes my hand, uncurls my fingers, and places the card in my palm. ¡°That¡¯ll buy you pretty much anything you could ever want here, and it¡¯ll work anywhere in the outside world that accepts credit cards. Oh, and just swipe it in the electronic lock of whatever room you want. If it¡¯s not occupied already, you can claim it by swiping the card again on the inside of the room.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I say and hold the card up to my eyes, then stuff it into my pocket.

    Ursula nods for Noland and gestures towards the elevator. ¡°If you want a room in the skyscraper, go up that elevator. If you want a beach house, go for a long walk until you find one that isn¡¯t occupied. And if you need anything else, there are intercoms and internet ready computers in every room. I shouldn¡¯t have to say this, but don¡¯t go bragging about your new place on any forums.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t have to worry about that. I¡¯m not a social media kind of person.¡± I say as I start moving towards the elevator. ¡°What time does ¡®everything else¡¯ start tomorrow?¡±

    The two of them share a look. ¡°Noon?¡± Noland half-asks, half states. It gets a nod from Ursula. ¡°Noon it is.¡± He repeats confidently. ¡°We¡¯ll start with a meeting with the Architect and go from there.¡±

    ¡°And call yourself the Gambler while you¡¯re here.¡± Ursula adds as I push on the ¡®up¡¯ button. ¡°It¡¯s kind of ceremonial, but mostly just tradition. It¡¯ll buy you a lot of brownie points with the locals, too.¡±

    ¡°Sure, whatever.¡± I say with a wave. The elevator dings as it reaches our floor, and the doors hiss open to reveal an empty reflective interior. I step inside and press the button for the highest floor, then watch Nolan and Ursula watch me watch them. ¡°Is there anything else?¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°Nope. Welcome to the resort, sister.¡±

    The door slides shut, sealing me off in a small metal box. I set my bags down and lean into the corner as the floor numbers tick up at an alarming rate, never once stopping for anyone else to get on. Makes me wonder how many of the rooms in this place are actually occupied, since it looked like there could easily be a thousand units in the building. A thousand big units.

    ¡°They seemed¡­ nice enough.¡± Pear says cautiously without leaving her shell. ¡°Almost too nice. Be careful, Shelby.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about that.¡± I chuckle as I look at myself in the mirror. ¡°They couldn¡¯t have made it more obvious that they want me for my class. Any niceness revolves around that one thing, and if I¡¯m not useful to them, they¡¯ll just kill me and wait for my coin to reappear somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far. Sure, they know a little about what your class can do, but they¡¯ve been using it as a workaround assassination weapon for who knows how many years. Why would they risk the one person who was good enough to come back?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Hence the whole ¡®being weirdly nice to me¡¯ thing. They¡¯re just like Illumisia; they want something from me, and while they can get that thing, they¡¯ll keep me around. But the second I¡¯m not useful, or I stop being able to give them what they want, they don¡¯t have a reason for me to exist.¡±

    Pearl purses her lips and looks down at her feet. ¡°Shelby¡­ Illumisia doesn¡¯t think of you like that.¡±

    I snort out a quick laugh. ¡°That¡¯s news to me.¡±

    ¡°No, really. She might not¡­ show that she likes you, but I know that she does. She wouldn¡¯t be doing everything that she is if she didn¡¯t.¡± Pearl insists. ¡°I¡¯ve known her for a really, really long time. I¡¯ve seen what she does with people she doesn¡¯t like.¡±

    ¡°But she can¡¯t do that to me. Not while I¡¯m helping her most precious person.¡± I gently tap Pearl¡¯s shell twice. ¡°She saw that me dying didn¡¯t free you from being a quest item. It¡¯s the only reason she brought me back. Otherwise she would¡¯ve just let me die.¡±

    ¡°Shelby¡­ no¡­ Illumisia wouldn¡¯t do that.¡±

    Wouldn¡¯t she? A frown etches itself onto my lips as I shake my head and try to put all thoughts of Illumisia out of my head. She¡¯s helping me for selfish reasons, and I¡¯m accepting that help for selfish reasons. It all cancels out in the end, and as long as I have Pearl, our arrangement continues. Whenever Pearl gets free, though, I know Illumisia won¡¯t want anything to do with me.

    ¡°Enough about that.¡± I say before Pearl can say anything else. ¡°Noland and Ursula. They¡¯re both Worth classes, but they didn¡¯t feel like the superhumans I thought they¡¯d be. I guess that proves how screwed over we get by the system.¡±

    Pearl looks like she¡¯s going to hold onto the Illumisia conversation for a few short seconds, but with a sigh, she moves on to the topic I forced onto her.

    ¡°Not getting immediate benefits from your stats is an impossible gap to bridge. When I saw your biology, I saw how long it takes you to naturally gain muscle. It¡¯s¡­ a long time. Long enough that you wouldn¡¯t be able to gain the effects of one Body point before you get another.¡± She flexes her arm, then pumps a little goo into it to resemble a bicep. ¡°Then there¡¯s the biggest issue of all; your bodies aren¡¯t made to get as strong as the system can magically make the other classes.¡±

    She raises her other arm and pumps at least ten times more goo into it. The result is a tumorous mass of faux-muscle that neither looks comfortable nor usable. It gets her point across loud and clear. But it highlights one particularly strange thing about my two new acquaintances.

    ¡°Does that mean Noland and Ursula aren¡¯t even trying to use their Body points?¡± I wonder aloud as I squeeze my bicep with one hand. ¡°I think my arms are already bigger than Noland¡¯s, and even though Ursula¡¯s ripped as hell, she still doesn''t look superhuman. Either they¡¯ve found some way to cheat the Body requirements, or they abandoned the stat once they realized how much work they¡¯d have to put in.¡±

    ¡°Hopefully it¡¯s the first option.¡± Pearl giggles. ¡°And even if it isn¡¯t, then you don¡¯t have to worry about putting any points into Body anymore! That¡¯s an okay consolation prize. ¡­Well, it¡¯s a really bad consolation prize. ¡­Okay, it isn¡¯t even a prize considering how buying stat points works. So, um, now I really hope it¡¯s the first option.¡±

    The elevator dings as it reaches our floor. I bend down to grab my bags as the door hisses open, revealing a single hallway that ends in a door on both ends.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°I hope it¡¯s option number one, too.¡± I whisper under my breath. ¡°Or else there¡¯s no point in trying to keep up with the non-Worths.¡±

    Pearl hums in agreement as I walk up to the door, let the bags dangle off my shoulders, and press my card against the electronic lock. It lets out a buzzer noise like I just said a wrong answer on a game show, and a giant set of holographic red letters spell out the word ¡®occupied¡¯ right in front of my face.

    ¡°Wow, I can¡¯t imagine anything more subtle than that.¡± I shake my head with a little laugh and turn to try out the other lock. ¡°What do you think the chances are that this one¡¯s occupied, too?¡±

    ¡°A hundred percent.¡± Pearl informs me matter-of-factly. ¡°If this is a penthouse, then everyone would want to stay here. It¡¯s only logical for whoever came first to claim the best place to stay if that¡¯s the only way we¡¯re judging who gets what.¡±

    ¡°Hey, maybe you¡¯re wrong.¡± I say and hold my card up to the new lock. ¡°There¡¯s always a chance someone¨C¡±

    OCCUPIED.

    Alright, maybe there isn¡¯t a chance. I figured maybe everyone wanted to live on the beach, so there was a chance the penthouse would be vacant, but there¡¯s also the simple fact that people don¡¯t live in tall buildings any more. So if beach houses are choice number one, then all the apartments on higher floors would be choice number two. And the penthouse was probably choice number zero. Occupied by someone else with a Worth class if I had to guess.

    I sigh and pocket the card, then make my way back to the elevator. A shadow passes by the door as I turn away, mostly obscured by frosted glass and a sheen of magic. It stares at me through the door for a few seconds, then disappears before I can round the corner to the elevator.

    ¡°Who was that?¡± Pearl wonders as I press the ¡®down¡¯ button. ¡°I couldn¡¯t feel any magic through the door at all.¡±

    ¡°Probably someone powerful hiding themselves.¡± I step into the elevator and press the floor one below the penthouse. ¡°Or the Architect made this place so people actually have privacy in their rooms. That¡¯s what I¡¯d do if I was in charge of making this place.¡±

    Pearl doesn¡¯t seem convinced. She narrows her eyes in the direction of the penthouse as the door slips closed, then lets out a frustrated little hum.

    ¡°No, I can feel magic from a bunch of the other rooms. So unless the penthouse is the only one with privacy, that¡¯s not it. Do you think there¡¯s someone here who¡¯s as powerful as the Horizonguard? Or¡­ Illumisia?¡±

    Pearl basically whispers Illumisia¡¯s name, as if insinuating someone could be as powerful as her is some kind of taboo. I want to dissuade her worries, but after seeing that massive mech and the two freakishly powerful people with it¡­ if the Preservation has people that powerful, I wouldn¡¯t put it past the resort to have similar living weapons.

    ¡°I hope not.¡± I chuckle worriedly as the elevator quickly reaches its destination. ¡°Actually¡­ do I hope there is? The Preservation is definitely my enemy now, so shouldn¡¯t I want an ally that¡¯s strong enough to take them on?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You should.¡± Pearl says without hesitation. ¡°Having strong allies is the difference between fighting a losing war and a winning one. But I guess I shouldn¡¯t be talking, since I had a bunch of strong allies and ended up trapped as a quest item for reasons I can¡¯t remember.¡±

    She shakes her head with a melancholic sigh of remembrance. ¡°Nevermind. Let¡¯s just find a room and hunker down. I¡¯m not ready to fight a war again any time soon.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m not a warrior.¡± I agree and walk up to the first door in a long hallway of doors. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, we won¡¯t get sucked into all of this. We¡¯ll just¡­ live normally, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Normally. Yeah.¡± Pearl says reluctantly. ¡°I hope normal isn¡¯t as boring as this place looks.¡±

    <hr>

    The next morning comes way too easily. I roll out of a bed made up with colourful pink and orange sheets, throw them off of me, and zip open a duffel bag to rummage around for some clean-ish clothes. After a few minutes of sorting clothes into wearable and needing to be washed, I set aside a simple pair of faded jeans, a t-shirt from some local band that was promoting their stuff a while back, and a pair of black flip-flops that came with the room. Then I hop into a quick shower to clean off all yesterday¡¯s exertion, towel off, and dry my hair with a hairdryer that must be nuclear powered for how intense and efficient it is.

    After I throw on my pre-chosen outfit, all the other clothes go into a bright orange clothes bin with my room number on it which is apparently taken every Friday night to be cleaned. I don¡¯t have anything expensive or delicate enough to need specific instructions, so I just heft the pile into the bun and forget about it for now. Pearl¡¯s soft sleeping breaths serenade me as I grab some fruit and some kind of granola bar wrapped in plain brown packaging with the words ¡®protein bar¡¯ written on it in pink marker. A few lighting bolts and stars surround it in yellow, making the hand-made nature of it all the more obvious.

    I rip open the waxy paper and take a big bite out of the bar as I bend down to take a water bottle out of the fridge. A flavourless mass fills my mouth, but it gives off enough magic to make me think twice about spitting it out. I tuck the water bottle under my arm and flip the bar¡¯s packaging around, only to come face to face with a simple warning.

    ¡°For quelling hunger, delivering nutrients, and magical restoration. Not for pleasure.¡± I read out loud, then take another bite. ¡°Huh. Just like my meal replacement potion.¡±

    By the time I finish the bar, the elevator door is sliding open to reveal the lobby for the first time today. I lick my fingers as I walk out and glance up at the clock, nod to myself, and offer a two-fingered wave at the person working the front desk. They wave back at me with a wide smile, but¡­ there¡¯s something weird about them. A chunk of white stone covers their left eye up to their forehead, painted to look like a closed eye. That¡¯s when it hits me; they¡¯re wearing a mask. One that the person yesterday definitely wasn¡¯t wearing.

    ¡°Gambler! You¡¯re a little early.¡± Ursula calls from across the lobby. ¡°Banker¡¯s already waiting in the meeting room. Follow me and we¡¯ll get started.¡±

    She gestures at the glass door right next to her, and opens it for me when I get close enough. A cool draft flows through the open door, gently prodding at my skin with tendrils of unknown magic as I step through. Ursula pulls the door shut behind her, then nods at me to start walking.

    ¡°So you¡¯ve probably got a lot of questions. That¡¯s definitely expected, and you already know why we can¡¯t answer all of them. There¡¯s also the issue of how much of our skills we can explain to you. You¡¯ve got clearance five now, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I confirm. ¡°Got it a few minutes before I got pulled back to Earth.¡±

    ¡°Cutting it really close, huh? Man, I remember struggling with my own requirements; two weeks, a thousand Worth, and I somehow had to find my way to a spot far away from where the system spawned me.¡± She chuckles and shakes her head. ¡°Looking back I still don¡¯t really know how I managed to survive.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and glance over at the side of her face. ¡°You had the exact same requirements as I did?¡±

    ¡°Everyone except the first batch did.¡± She confirms. ¡°And the Merchant¡¯s the only Worth class we know from the first batch. He got a real tutorial, but the system decided to try and get rid of him in some pretty heinous ways. Ways we now know how to avoid thanks to him struggling through them.¡±

    ¡°Huh. I¡¯ll have to ask him about that next time I meet him.¡± I muse as the magic in the hallway intensifies, and the floor seems to slope sharply downward. ¡°Are we going underground?¡±

    Ursula frowns at me and crosses her arms. ¡°Yeah. You already met the Merchant? How?¡±

    ¡°His shop showed up when I cleared my first threshold.¡± I say with a shrug. ¡°Nothing impressive or important. Just¡­ lucky, I guess.¡±

    I keep the part about him promising to show up at every multiple of ten thresholds to myself. They¡¯ve talked about Gil like he¡¯s their friend so far, but I haven¡¯t seen anything to prove that. Don¡¯t want to put myself in any more danger than I¡¯m already in.

    ¡°The system probably thought he¡¯d screw you over. Looks like that didn¡¯t happen.¡± Ursula chuckles brightly and lets her arms fall to her sides. ¡°Merchant doesn¡¯t have a lot of love for non-Worth classes, but he treats his own really well. It makes it hard to work with him since we¡¯re not all Worth classes here, but if one of us Worth classes specifically needs something, he¡¯s the guy to go to. We¡¯re here.¡±

    She holds out a hand for me to stop. I skid to a halt just before she can touch me, then look around at the walls. I¡¯ve seen too many false walls to be surprised by her statement, and from the slightly disappointed look on her face, it looks like she was waiting for that surprise.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stop on my watch. Go ahead.¡± I gesture at the wall with a small smirk creeping up my lips. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to open the wall?¡±

 Chapter 54: Proof of Worth

    I follow Ursula into a fairly large meeting room with random posters cluttering up the parts of the walls that aren¡¯t filled with giant TV screens. Most of them are playing footage from random places I don¡¯t recognize; jungles, street corners, snowy mountains, and everything in between. But a few of them are obviously from around the resort. Beachside, in the main lobby, along some paths¡­ it¡¯s like a security room, but nobody¡¯s here to watch the cameras.

    ¡°Well here we are. The brains of this place.¡± Ursula gestures one arm at the room as the wall closes in behind us. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t worry about the cameras. Someone else is watching them somewhere else; they¡¯re just here as background ambiance. Here, I¡¯ll change it.¡±

    She snaps her fingers at the wall of screens. They all flicker off, then back on as parts of a much bigger picture¨Csome kind of reality show that¡¯s set in a destroyed part of some city that got hit really hard with the apocalypse. It¡¯s hard to tell where it is, since the apocalypse mutated almost everything it touched for the first few years, but the architecture is vaguely asian.

    ¡°There. Background ambiance that you won¡¯t feel the need to watch.¡± Ursula pulls out a chair and gestures for me to take the one on her left. ¡°We¡¯ll be here for more than a few hours, so we might as well get the supper orders out of the way now. Do you have a preference?¡±

    I shrug and take the chair she offered. Something about all the others just feels¡­ wrong, somehow. ¡°Chinese or Indian if you¡¯ve got it.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Ursula leans down under the table for a moment, then comes up with two laminated menus. ¡°We¡¯ve got pretty much everything here except for Japanese and Mexican. Noland¡¯s been looking for people to fill those voids, but it¡¯s been a real pain in the ass. He¡¯s almost desperate enough to bring people with no connection to classes at all just for the food.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I get it.¡± I say as I accept the menus. ¡°Good food is worth its weight in gold.¡±

    One of the menus is a treat for the senses; made up to the high heavens with pictures of food and lavish descriptions that make my mouth water. The other is a simple yellow thing with the food listed in a simple black font, pressed as closely together as possible to cram everything into the menu and prices right next to the food. I look between the both of them as images of delicious food dance over my eyes, and eventually settle on the non-option.

    ¡°Get me whatever the best thing at this place is,¡± I point my finger at the Indian menu, ¡°and whatever the best thing at the other place is. I can afford the extra calories after two weeks of suffering through a meal replacement potion as my only real food.¡±

    Ursula shudders in sympathy and drags the menus away from me. ¡°I get it. I¡¯ll put the order through. So¡­ how do you like the room so far? Big enough for you?¡±

    I shrug and summon my knife. ¡°I didn¡¯t really take a look around. It¡¯s got a bed, a bathroom with a shower, and a kitchen, though, so it¡¯s all good with me.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ didn¡¯t take a look around?¡± Ursula narrows her eyes at me. ¡°How can you go to sleep somewhere without scoping out your surroundings? What if we set up an ambush in your room? Or sent someone to kill you in your sleep? Or even something as simple as a listening device. There¡¯s so many ways you could¡¯ve gone wrong.¡±

    ¡°If you wanted to kill me, you would¡¯ve killed me already.¡± I curl my hand into the shape of a gun and press my fingers to my head. ¡°There¡¯s no point in going through all this effort if this ends with a bullet. Whatever you need from me involves me being alive, willing, and not mind controlled.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Us. Me and Noland and the other worths.¡± Ursula motions at her chest, then at me. ¡°We need you, but the rest of this place doesn¡¯t. Someone could¡¯ve decided to test your power, or got jealous of all the preferential treatment you¡¯re getting. How can¡¯t you be at least a little worried?¡±

    I run my finger down the edge of my knife and raise an eyebrow. ¡°Of course I¡¯m worried. What I¡¯m not is scared. As long as you need me, I¡¯m safe. I¡¯m worried about what you need me to do.¡±

    Ursula leans back in her chair and exhales hard. ¡°That¡¯s fair, I guess. And yeah, you should probably be a little worried. We¡¯ve got some jobs to do, and the safest one involves overseeing a million dollar transaction. I won¡¯t put you on that kind of demeaning shit right away, but since you¡¯re a Worth, we¡¯re going to be putting you through the ringer.¡±

    That just flat out doesn¡¯t make sense. I¡¯ve been here for less than a day, and apparently, I¡¯m being trusted more than people who¡¯ve been here for¡­ who knows how long. I shoot Ursula a look that I hope carries the doubt in my heart. Somehow, she sends back one of understanding.

    ¡°I get it. You don¡¯t understand how I do, but I understand. When we¡¯re done here, I''ll introduce you to some non-Worths. It won¡¯t give you the full explanation you¡¯re looking for, but it¡¯ll give you a foundation. Now¡­ where the hell is Noland? We have to get started to be able to finish.¡±

    ¡°What about the Architect?¡± I ask as Ursula spins her chair to look at the door and pulls out her phone. ¡°Isn¡¯t she running late too?¡±

    She taps out a quick message, then reaches back and sets the phone on the table. ¡°She is, but she¡¯s got different rules than the rest of us. She¡¯ll be here for supper, after all the important shit is said and done, and if we¡¯re lucky she¡¯ll be in a talking mood.¡±

    The phone buzzes once. Before it can buzz again, Ursula snatches it and holds it up to her ear. ¡°Noland, where the hell are you? If you couldn¡¯t wait one night to get drunk, I¡¯m going to kick your ass all the way to next Sunday. ¡­What? Oh, you¡¯re shitting me. Alright, fine. If you¡¯re not lying to cover your ass, you¡¯re forgiven. ¡­Yeah. See you in five.¡±

    ¡°Five minutes?¡± I ask.

    Ursula shakes her head as the wall splits open. ¡°Seconds. Hey, Banker. Architect.¡±

    Architect? Well, what the hell was the point of telling me she wouldn¡¯t be here if Noland¡¯s just going to bring her in? I swivel my chair around and find myself less than an inch away from a woman with wide eyes, bright makeup, and hair dyed the brightest bubblegum pink I¡¯ve ever seen. Her septum and one of her nostrils are pierced, along with three studs on her left eyebrow and both of her earlobes.

    ¡°Hey.¡± I state nonchalantly as her eyes search my own. ¡°I guess I¡¯m the Gambler. Good to meet you.¡±

    She tilts her head to the side like an owl, her wide-open eyes giving her a look that¡¯s somehow both prey-like and unsettling. Her body language is about as closed-off as a human can manage while also standing; hands clenched together, elbows and shoulders turned inwards, and her spine bent in a way that screams ¡®scoliosis¡¯. Her eyes are almost too wide for her face, which is only accentuated by a small mouth painted in glossy bubblegum pink that matches her hair.

    But the strangest part is that she isn¡¯t scrawny. She¡¯s got lean muscle on her one bare arm, her muscular legs bulge against her leggings, and her hoodie only hangs over her stomach. Everywhere else is pressed tight with muscle. And she still hasn¡¯t backed away after a good thirty seconds of silence.

    I smile without teeth and cross my legs. ¡°So what¡¯s going on? Are you trying to read my mind?¡±

    Her head tilts the other way this time, and she slowly reaches one hand upwards to point at her own head. ¡°You have a shell.¡±

    My smile loses all mirth as I narrow my eyes, but the Architect doesn¡¯t seem to notice. ¡°I do.¡±

    She takes a step back and nods ever so slightly. ¡°I¡¯m Marchesa. You can call me March when you don¡¯t have to call me Architect. Can I call you Shelby when I don¡¯t have to call you Gambler?¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Uh¡­ sure?¡±

    A small, shy smile creeps up her lips. ¡°Thank you. You look cool, Shelby.¡±

    ¡°Thanks?¡±

    ¡°No problem.¡± She says and walks over to the chair two further down from Ursula. ¡°Are we getting pizza?¡±

    Noland turns to Ursula with a twinkle in his eye. ¡°I like pizza.¡±

    Ursula sighs and raises an eyebrow at me in question. I shrug.

    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll get pizza.¡± She says and tucks the menus back under the table. ¡°Later. But since you¡¯re here, March, do you need any snacks? Are you running low on calories?¡±

    March shakes her head. ¡°Nope. No projects on the go right now. Just cream soda and chocolate covered almonds for me.¡±

    ¡°Milk chocolate, right?¡± Ursula asks as she taps a message on her phone. March nods a small nod. ¡°Alright. Shelby, Noland, either of you want anything? Because I¡¯m getting some pretzels and a milkshake.¡±

    ¡°Coffee and donuts. A dozen different ones.¡± Noland chimes in before I can get a word out. ¡°And make sure the dozen isn¡¯t just a normal yeast donut with different glazes or sprinkles. I want a real variety pack.¡±

    Ursula rolls her eyes, but notes down Noland¡¯s request anyway. ¡°Shelby? We¡¯re gonna be here for a while, so you might as well get something.¡±

    ¡°Water. And¡­ sour candy. Not hard candy, though.¡± I say with a nod. ¡°And a big bag of jalapeno cheddar kettle chips, please.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good.¡± Ursula says as she makes a show of pressing ¡®send¡¯. ¡°The staff will have it here in half an hour. Which gives us just enough time to jump Shelby into our little exclusive club. Noland; you sat down last, so you get to go first.¡±

    He sighs theatrically and spreads his hands. ¡°Nothing I can do about that. Shelby, how many times has your Worth skill evolved so far?¡±

    ¡°Once, I think.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so the first evolution is safe to talk about. Tell me if the system starts censoring my words. So; Worth skills. They¡¯re exactly what they sound like; skills that can directly affect your Worth. If you use them for yourself, you can play with the system¡¯s money, but if you use them on someone else, they have to pay the price. First example; mine.¡±

    With a snap of his fingers, the screens behind him flash to a simple description.

    Compounding Interests

    Your liquid Worth increases by 1% every week.

    ¡°That¡¯s what it looked like the moment I got it.¡± He continues. ¡°It rounds up to the closest whole Worth, but the harsh truth is that the payout is literal garbage in the short term. Just like everyone else here, I had to survive two weeks. Which would get me a whole two point something percent extra Worth. I found my first evolution eight days in, and it didn¡¯t really change much.¡±

    The text on the screen shifts up slightly to make room for another few lines.

    Compounding Interests

    Your liquid Worth increases by 1% every week.

    You can create ¡®accounts¡¯ for other Class-bearers, applying this skill¡¯s effects to the Worth in that account.

    ¡®Impressive¡¯ isn¡¯t a word I¡¯d use to describe that ability. It seems like a much worse version of my own, since I can double every single Worth I get the moment I get it. There¡¯s definitely one major advantage to Noland¡¯s skill, though; he can generate Worth out of thin air even when we¡¯re not in the other world. At least¡­ I think he can.

    ¡°Does your skill work on Earth?¡±

    A wide smile reveals all the teeth in Noland¡¯s mouth. He gives me an enthusiastic thumbs-up in confirmation, then gestures once more at the screens. The only thing that changes is the percentage for the liquid Worth increase¨Cfrom one to one point five.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t just work on Earth; I can make new accounts on Earth, too. Here comes the really important bit: the amount someone can put into an account I make is based on whoever¡¯s clearance is lower¨Cmine or theirs. And the system forces me to make them compensate me for the services. Either with Worth, or with something else that has Worth. Say, for example, another Worth skill.¡±

    Another Worth skill. Like, say, everyone else here. I look around the room, and see way more eyes on me than I expected. Everyone¨CMarch included¨Cseems to be waiting for my reaction. I tap Pearl¡¯s shell to try and wake her up before I say anything. She tiredly mumbles into my brain, but confirms that she¡¯s listening nonetheless.

    ¡°So instead of directly paying you, I could let you use my Worth skill instead. How¡¯s that any different than just paying each other?¡±

    Noland snaps his fingers and summons a single iron five between them. ¡°It¡¯s a lot simpler than you think; if we pay each other, it ends up as a net zero. Nobody gains anything from it. But if we trade services, something else happens. You already met Gil, so you¡¯ve already experienced it firsthand. Just how much we can stretch what we charge for our skills.¡±

    Sure, I remember Gil selling me stuff for way under what it was actually worth. But I thought that was just because he owned his own store¨Cnot because he had a Worth skill. Guess I was wrong.

    ¡°Why couldn¡¯t we just stretch that cost normally? Like, I get why it wouldn¡¯t work with non-Worth classes¨Cthey don¡¯t have a service they can provide¨Cso why do we have to do a skill for a skill? Wouldn¡¯t it be better to get paid sometimes? Especially me, since I¡¯m so much lower level than all of you.¡±

    ¡°...You know what, it¡¯ll be a lot easier to show you what I mean. How much Worth do you have to invest?¡±

    I pull out my Class Card to check what I¡¯ve got left. I¡¯ve spent almost a hundred Worth since I got back to Earth, which isn¡¯t that bad considering everything. Still, I don¡¯t want to give everything over, even if it does have a good interest rate.

    ¡°Five hundred is the most I can spare.¡± I decide. ¡°Is that fine?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s perfect, actually. In more ways than one¨Cit lets me explain another aspect of this. Remember how I said the system uses the clearance of whoever¡¯s weaker? Well, in almost every case, that ends up being a hundred Worth times your clearance level. For more expensive skills¨Clike March¡¯s¨Cit¡¯s a little more, but mine, Ursula¡¯s, and Gil¡¯s were all a hundred per clearance level.¡±

    He slides the iron five over to me, then twists his palm upwards as liquid gold begins to drip through his fingers. Magic trails off of it in jagged ethereal crystals, each of which feels as secure as a vault and as huge as a mountain. And they just keep coming. One by one until a grand total of ninety-one golden crystal vaults hover around him like strange-looking moons.

    ¡°Each of these is a different account.¡± He gently reaches up and pulls some liquid gold from his hand, trailing it upwards as it solidifies until he snaps it free with a soft crack. ¡°And this one is yours, if you¡¯re willing to trust me. There¡¯s two ways to pay for it¨Ca deposit fee on everything you put in or I take a percentage of your interest. They¡¯re both worth it for you in the long run, but I¡¯m going to offer you a third option: a skill for a skill.¡±

    Golden light filters through the crystal as all the others disappear into thin air. Noland reaches in front of Ursula and gently offers me the crystal vault, which rests in my hands like a piece of delicate glassware. Not like all the other indestructible crystals he had hovering around him. I stare at it for a few seconds, waiting for Pearl to pipe up if she feels anything wrong with it, but she doesn¡¯t say anything.

    ¡°Alright. You have yourself a deal. But if you screw me over, I¡¯m leaving.¡± I pull out my Class Card and press the fragile golden vault against it. ¡°So how do we do the whole ¡®trade¡¯ thing? Does the system do it for us, or do we have to initiate it?¡±

    Contract Initiation: Banker.

    You gain: use of skill ¡®Compounding Interests¡¯.

    You offer: use of skill ¡®High Stakes¡¯.

    If the contract is broken, the breaker will be put in Debt to the other party.

    Confirm contract?

    ¡°Nevermind.¡± I swipe to confirm the contract, then feel a little somethin settle inside of my interface. Something¡­ not quite mine. I swipe over to my skills tab, and starting me right in the face is a new subsection; Contract Skills. ¡°I actually get access to your skill? How¡¯s that possible?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not complete access.¡± Ursula cuts in. ¡°It¡¯s more like seeing how much of it you have left thanks to your contract. Press on it and deposit some Worth; you¡¯ll see what I mean.¡±

    Noland sighs and leans down on one elbow. ¡°Yeah. That. March, do you have anything to add?¡±

    March cocks her head to the side. ¡°Just because we¡¯ll have a contract, it doesn¡¯t mean we can be jerks to each other. Don¡¯t force Noland to do something he doesn¡¯t want to, and he shouldn¡¯t force you to do anything either.¡±

    ¡°Good point. It¡¯s a contract, yeah, but don¡¯t go being a dick trying to enforce it.¡± Ursula agrees. ¡°We won¡¯t force you to come use your skill when you don¡¯t want to, and in return, we ask that you don¡¯t do the same.¡±

    My Class Card vibrates as I press on Noland¡¯s skill, which brings up a small window with two options; deposit and withdraw. There¡¯s nothing in it to start with, so I tick the number all the way up to five hundred and hit ¡®deposit¡¯.

 Chapter 55: Deal Em

    500 Worth deposited into ¡®Compounding Interests¡¯.

    Worth can only be deposited or withdrawn while in the presence of the Banker.

    Payment of ¡®High Stakes¡¯ initiated.

    Golden magic emanates from my Class Card in a soft glow, spreading over the entire table with a thick sheen of power. Nobody reacts to it at all, which is definitely weird, but I guess it¡¯s something just for me. I raise a hand to admire the golden sheen over my skin, but before I even start to take it in, it shifts to a cosmic black shot through with so many colours. The same as Pearl¡¯s gooey form.

    ¡°Ooh! Now that¡¯s a strong wake-me-up! Brrr!¡± Pearl shakes her head, all sleepiness wiped completely free from her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t really know why your skill is including me in this, but it¡¯s calling me the ¡®witness¡¯ to your skill? Um¡­ I think I¡¯m supposed to make sure whatever you use it for is actually fair?¡±

    That makes sense; the skill did say it would fail if I was caught cheating the last time I looked at its description. Though it was a pretty damn long time ago, so maybe it¡¯s changed since then. I nod to Pearl and swipe over to my own skills to check out High Stakes.

    High Stakes: Gambler Class skill.

    Create a situation with a non-determinative outcome.

    Any Worth you wager on that outcome will be paid out based on the situation¡¯s odds.

    If you are caught cheating, you instantly lose.

    Worth gained in this way cannot be used again with this skill.

    If used on a coin with a Worth value that is not a pure Worth coin, this skill cannot be used for two hours.

    Current maximum odds: 1/1.

    Upgrade cost:???

    Upgrade requirements:???

    I sigh to myself and scrape away the last three lines, then gesture at the screens with the intent to put my skill up on it. Somehow it actually shows up next to Noland¡¯s skill. The three of them all turn around at my gesture, and each of them takes their own time reading up on what I can do.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± March says with a frown. ¡°Can someone explain it to me?¡±

    Ursula scratches her chin before trying to explain my skill. ¡°It looks like Shelby can let us legally gamble our Worth? But only on situations where we¡¯re equally likely to win or lose. And¡­ wait. We can wager any coin, not just Worth? Does that put in on cooldown for us, or for Shelby?¡±

    Everyone turns to me like I have an answer to that question. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me; I¡¯ve only used it on myself. You know; playing with house money? I¡¯d have to host a game for you to see what happens.¡±

    ¡°Well, then let¡¯s host a game!¡± Noland exclaims eagerly and pulls out a deck of cards. From¡­ somewhere. ¡°Blackjack! One on one, since it won¡¯t be equal odds otherwise. Me against Ursula. I¡¯m using our contract right now!¡±

    He slides the deck over to me, and as it slides across the table, it gathers a golden coating. I catch it before it can slip past me, and I feel my skill start to work. Noland glimmers with a golden outline, cementing him as one of the players, and everyone else in the room just has a slight golden sheen rolling over them. Marking them as¡­ potential players, I guess?

    Cards flow out of the metal box and into my hands. I toss the package to the side and nod at Ursula as I shuffle them, deftly moving them from one hand to the other in a myriad of showboat-y ways. She doesn¡¯t bat an eye, but she definitely would if she knew I¡¯d never done anything like this with cards before.

    ¡°Are you happy playing against him?¡± I ask and stand up to walk between the two of them. ¡°I think I have to get at least one round out of the way before I can see the description for a multiplayer game. You can just bet the minimum if you don¡¯t want to risk anything.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s the fun in that?¡± She grins warily and raps her knuckles against the table. ¡°Maximum bet. You set the rules. I¡¯m interested to see how this works.¡±

    March nods in agreement and leans forward in her chair without saying a word. Looks like she wants to see what my skill can do, too.

    ¡°Alright. Noland and Ursula both bet the maximum, whatever that is. The game is blackjack. Whoever gets the closest to twenty one without going over wins, and if there¡¯s a tie, whoever has more red cards gets the victory.¡± I say and cut the deck once, then place a face-down card in front of each of them. ¡°Aces are either one or eleven based on what¡¯s better for you, but two aces can¡¯t be two different things. Face cards are all ten. First to win three rounds takes the pot. Do we have a game on our hands?¡±

    Noland and Marchasa share a look, then both nod.

    ¡°Perfect. Taking bets now.¡±

    The golden outlines that surround both of the players flare bright, then slither off of them and onto the table. After a second to rest they unravel into threads of light, revealing two huge piles of iron fives in front of each of them. I know they¡¯re both exactly five hundred Worth worth of coins, and my skill gives off a satisfied sensation before I reach down and flip up both cards.

    Noland gets an eight of spades. Ursula gets a king of hearts. I hold the top card of the deck with my thumb and gesture down at Noland.

    He doesn¡¯t need a second to think before he smacks his palm on the table. ¡°Hit me.¡±

    I nod and flip over another card. The ace of diamonds. Which technically puts him over Ursula¡¯s score for the moment, so I tilt my chin up at her with the same unspoken question.

    ¡°Obviously hit me.¡± She says with a little tension in her voice. ¡°And if I¡¯m still lower than he is, hit me again.¡±

    ¡­Not quite sure if that¡¯s how it works, but hey, I¡¯m the one in charge here. So I say it works. I flip her a second card; the two of spades. Then the two of hearts. Then the¡­ two of diamonds. Wow. That¡¯s some weird-ass randomness. And it still puts her lower than Noland, so she gets another card. The three of hearts.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    She sighs in relief as I gesture at Noland. ¡°She¡¯s winning the tie right now. Keep going, or give up for no reason?¡±

    ¡°Keep going, obviously.¡± Noland says excitedly. ¡°I wonder how the payout¡¯s going to work. Is it going to double the value of the Worth I put up, or is it going to give me everything she bet? Oh, crap, we forgot to bet a non-Worth coin to see how that works. Eh, I guess we¡¯ll just have to hope your skill doesn¡¯t put in another cooldown for using it on other people.¡±

    ¡°Sure, yeah.¡± I say nonchalantly as I flip up another ace; spades this time. Something about my skill makes me want to take this way more seriously than is needed. ¡°That puts you at a whopping total of ten. Keep going?¡±

    With a wave of his hand, I flip over the next card. ¡°Ten of hearts. That puts you at a damn solid twenty. Ursula¡¯ you¡¯re up.¡±

    Little chunks of nail fly everywhere as she nervously nibbles on her thumb. ¡°I guess you have to give me a card. Wait!¡± She cries as I go to flip one up, fresh sweat starting to dribble down her forehead. ¡°Noland, are you sure you don¡¯t want to try hitting again? You¨Cyou could get twenty one and completely blow me out of the water! Rub salt in the wound and prove how huge your balls are!¡±

    ¡°Uh, no.¡± he laughs. ¡°Not when I¡¯m already winning. Hit and take the chance, or stay and guarantee your loss.¡±

    Ursula groans, then pulls me down by the sleeve with a desperate look in her eye. ¡°Hey. I know your skill says something about ¡®getting caught¡¯, but if we don¡¯t get caught, then there¡¯s nothing to be scared of, right? You¨Cyou have to know what order the cards are in. Just put the last two on top and I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll give you half of my winnings! That sounds pretty good, right?¡±

    I roll my eyes, but just before I can say anything, a notification pops right up.

    You are not a player.

    Any attempts to sway the results in a particular participant¡¯s favor will invalidate the game, returning the wagers with an additional ten percent added from your own Worth.

    ¡°No.¡± I state and swipe away the notification. ¡°Am I giving you another card?¡±

    Wind whips against my chest as Ursula snaps her head from side to side. She goes from her thumb to her pointer finger, chewing the nail down as she manically tries to make a very simple decision.

    Eventually she turns away completely. ¡°Okay. Hit me.¡±

    So she¡¯s not even going to look, huh? Well, I wouldn¡¯t blame her; there¡¯s one two left in the deck, and that¡¯s basically the only card she can win with. I slide the card off the top, push it towards the table, flip it over and press it to her stack.

    The two of clubs. Twenty one.

    Noland shakes his head and laughs. ¡°Blackjack. Don¡¯t bother giving me another; I know when I¡¯ve lost.¡±

    Ursula whirls around in her chair, but instead of relief or excitement, she just looks exhausted. She lazily scrapes her cards up, hands them to me, and breathes a sigh that says she¡¯s still got at least one more round to go. I shuffle the cards in, place them face-down in front of both of the players, and get ready for another round.

    <hr>

    ¡°Wow. That looks like it took years off your life.¡± Noland notes and reaches over to pat Ursula on the back. ¡°And that¡¯s what it looks like when you win. How have I known you for this long without learning how horrible you are with gambling?¡±

    ¡°Because I avoid it like the plague for this exact reason?¡± Ursula groans with her head on the table. ¡°Next time Shelby needs someone to test something out, you and March can volunteer. While I¡¯m not even in the same room. Better yet, don¡¯t even tell me that it¡¯s going to happen. That way I can live in ignorant bliss.¡±

    I shuffle the cards one last time and hand them back to Noland. He shakes his head and holds up a hand, preventing me from doing exactly that.

    ¡°Nah, keep ¡®em. We sell those at the gift shop, and you¡¯re probably going to need a deck to work with your skill. Especially if you eventually get to higher odds¡±

    ¡°True, true.¡± I pocket the deck, then tap Ursula on the shoulder. ¡°The game still hasn¡¯t paid out, so I guess I have to formally announce a winner. Which means you have to see if your Worth doubles in value, or if you just get Noland¡¯s Worth instead.¡±

    She groans, but summons her Class Card anyway. ¡°I¡¯m watching it. You guys watch my Worth.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m watching it.¡± March offers helpfully. ¡°It hasn¡¯t changed at all since it got summoned. Hey, for the next game, could it be something a little more skill intensive?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as I open my class card to try and finalize the game. ¡°Sure, I guess. Do you have anything in mind?¡±

    ¡°Any kind of actual card game. I wonder if I¡¯d have to build two decks with a perfect matchup, or if I could make one terrible one and a really good one.¡± March leans forward and starts tracing her pointer finger along the table. ¡°Do you have to be fully aware of the rules before, or do we just have to agree that it¡¯s fair?¡±

    ¡°Probably depends on if I¡¯m actually presenting the game, or just overseeing it.¡± I tap through my screens, but no new popups have appeared. Pearl probably has to do something. ¡°Since there¡¯s only a rule against cheating, we could easily transfer Worth from person to person by setting up a game and having one person throw. But¡­ hrm.¡±

    The implications of that aren¡¯t all¡­ great. Since we can¡¯t freely exchange Worth, I now have one of the only known ways to extort from someone. Sure, Noland could charge out the ass for making an account, but my games could be easily manipulated. The system wouldn¡¯t just let that happen, would it?

    ¡­Actually, yeah, I could easily see it letting that happen. I look up and around the room as Pearl finally seems to get the message, and my skill descends upon the piles of Worth like a pack of rabid bees. Noland watches with rapt interest as his pile disappears one by one, flickering out of existence as Ursula¡¯s begins to glow one at a time.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ weird.¡± She says slowly, her voice muffled by the table. ¡°My Worth is going up, but I don¡¯t have access to any more coins. Is it actually doubling how much each coin is worth?¡±

    ¡°I mean, that was one of the options.¡± I say as my skill loosens its hold on the game. ¡°It does kind of screw up the option of giving over non-Worth coins as prizes.¡±

    With the game said and done, Ursula is now the proud owner of a hundred iron fives worth ten Worth each. Everyone¡¯s focus shifts from me to the pile of ¡®impossible coins¡¯, as uttered by Noland with a twinkle of dangerous interest in his eye. I take the moments where I¡¯m not in the spotlight to open up my Class Card one more time, then swipe over to the communication tab and open up a message window to Clutter.

    ¡°What did it feel like watching the game?¡± I type, hoping that Pearl understands I¡¯m trying to talk to her.

    ¡°...Oh! Um, it felt fine. The system didn¡¯t do anything weird to me, if that¡¯s what you mean.¡± She eventually says with a little embarrassment. ¡°All I did was watch for cheating, and since you were the only one touching the cards, it was really easy to do that. I have a feeling it¡¯ll be a lot harder when there¡¯s the option for other people to cheat, though.¡±

    I nod and delete the message before starting to type again. ¡°Good to know, thank you. Don¡¯t be afraid to speak up more. I like hearing your voice.¡±

    Pearl is silent for a moment, then giggles and leans against¡­ something. I can feel all her actions when she¡¯s talking to me like this, but I can¡¯t actually see anything in her shell. It¡¯s a pretty damn weird sensation, now that I think about it.

    ¡°Okay, I will! I think Noland¡¯s skill is really, really useful. Probably more useful than anyone else¡¯s depending on how long you¡¯re stuck here before you can go back, since I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any way to actually earn Worth on a world without system overreach.¡± She says confidently. ¡°But yours is important in a different way that you already touched on; giving people Worth. You should ask them what happens when someone goes over a threshold here, because that opens a lot of really weird doors to play around with.¡±

    ¡°All very good points. I¡¯ll bring them up as soon as they¡¯re done marveling over the coins.¡± I type, then delete the sentence after giving Pearl a moment to read it. ¡°I¡¯m going to swap over to my skills now. Just tell me if you want a back-and-forth and I¡¯ll come up with some excuse to step away.¡±

    From the way Pearl bubbles with joy, it seems like that meant a lot to her. Her warmth brings a small smile to my lips as I press on High Stakes to see just what¡¯s changed. And¡­ it¡¯s not quite what I expected. Instead of adding on to my first skill, there¡¯s a brand new second one right underneath it. Slightly different, but new nonetheless.

    High Stakes: Outward

 Chapter 56: Too Rare

    High Stakes: Outward.

    Create a situation with a non-determinative outcome that can be played by more than one person.

    Any coin with Worth wagered on that situation will be paid out based on the situation¡¯s odds by increasing the raw value of the coins wagered.

    If a participant is caught cheating, they instantly lose. If The Gambler is a part of the game, this responsibility must be given to an outside source.

    Worth with its value increased in this way cannot be wagered again.

    The same person cannot participate in this skill more than once every two hours, save for The Gambler.

    Current maximum odds: 1/1.

    Upgrades alongside High Stakes.

    Pretty much the same skill as High Stakes, but with a few simple additions to make it work in a multiplayer environment. Except for one little thing; the cooldown for me using the skill on a non Worth coin. I wonder if that means I can wager a bunch of skill coins on a game and upgrade all of them at once. ¡­Or if I could¡¯ve wagered all of my Worth on a single coinflip instead of going one by one all this time.

    God, I hope not. That¡¯d make me one of the biggest idiots to ever set foot on two worlds.

    With that happy thought in mind, I gesture at the screen to project the new used-on-other-people version of my skill instead of my personal one. Nobody turns around to notice, since they¡¯re still too busy fawning over Ursula¡¯s coins, so I take a second to sit back down and fiddle with Noland¡¯s bank.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know the system could do this.¡± Noland flicks a coin into the air, then snatches it from its apex with one hand and a winning smile. ¡°This could change everything. If we put a spell into a coin before we used it, we might be able to bypass the Worth requirement. Even with diminishing returns, that could be a twenty or thirty percent upgrade to coin-based spells for literally no investment.¡±

    ¡°Not no investment¨Csomeone else¡¯s investment. Someone has to lose for someone else to win.¡± March points out excitedly. ¡°But for little investments, we can easily lose on purpose to help each other.¡±

    Noland nods vigorously in agreement. ¡°We¡¯ll try that next time. Shelby, what¡¯s the cooldown on your skill for me?¡±

    I look up from my Class Card and raise an eyebrow at him. ¡°You still haven¡¯t turned around? Maybe try doing that.¡±

    He raises both of his eyebrows in response and nearly snaps his neck from turning so fast. ¡°How long has that been there?¡±

    ¡°Fifteen minutes.¡± I state with the smallest sprinkling of sarcasm. ¡°You were just too enraptured with sparkling coins to notice.¡±

    ¡°Um, no. I was¡­ uh¡­¡± Noland trails off as he looks around the room for something to blame. ¡°Ursula! It¡¯s your turn to trade a contract with Shelby.¡±

    Ursula shoots Noland a nonplussed look. ¡°Wow. Wonderful job deflecting there. None of us could figure out what you were doing.¡± She sighs and gestures at the screen. ¡°My skill¡¯s not quite as Worth generating as either of yours, but it¡¯s a hell of a lot more combat applicable. Which we¡¯ve learned is apparently a rarity among Worth classes.¡±

    Both my and Noland¡¯s skills disappear to make room for Ursula¡¯s. It¡¯s an extremely long one, but before I even get halfway through reading it, my brain turns the words into squirming masses of unreadable garbage. I don¡¯t have to say anything at all before the censored words disappear completely. Ursula must¡¯ve been watching my expression for this exact thing.

    I offer her a small smile of thanks. She returns one of her own.

    Hired Muscle

    You can accept Worth in exchange for any combat-related task.

    By accepting Worth, you are put into a ¡®Hired¡¯ state. There is no limit to the number of jobs you can accept at once, but if they are not completed by their individual deadlines, you will be put in Debt to whoever you took it from.

    While ¡®Hired¡¯, you gain bonuses based on the job you were hired to do. In addition, the class item ¡®Uncertainty¡¯ will contain different things based on your accepted jobs.

    If you are ¡®Hired¡¯ to complete a quest, you are automatically given that quest as well.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of words to say I can pay you to fight for me.¡± I glance over at Ursula and tilt my chin upwards. ¡°What¡¯s ¡®Uncertainty¡¯? Is it that briefcase that keeps disappearing?¡±

    She reaches under the table for the briefcase, which she gently places next to her pile of Worth. ¡°Good memory. Yeah, this is it; an item that¡¯s as much a part of my class as my skills are. I get a stat buff when someone hires me to do something, and Uncertainty here gets filled with something that¡¯ll help me do the job. When I¡¯m not hired for anything, this is what happens when I open it.¡±

    Both of the latches flip open and the lid swings upwards, revealing a simple electronic device the size of an e-reader. Ursula scoops it out of the briefcase with one hand and presses all five of her other fingertips to the screen, then twists them in a counterclockwise motion. It beeps three times, then reveals a bunch of arrows and a top-down view of the resort.

    ¡°This shows me everyone with Worth in my immediate vicinity. If there¡¯s nobody around here, or they¡¯re close enough to register on the outskirts, it¡¯ll give me an arrow pointing off-screen.¡± She explains, then pinches her fingers on the map. It zooms out so instead of the resort taking up the entire screen, it takes up less than a quarter of it. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be for helping me find people to hire me, but it¡¯s also amazing for keeping track of people. I haven¡¯t met anyone who could conceal themselves from it so far.¡±

    I lean in to get a better look, but it doesn¡¯t come into focus any more than it already is. Not sure if that¡¯s the tablet being magical or my eyes being too good now. ¡°Is that where the turret came from back in the car?¡±

    Ursula crosses her arms and inhales. ¡°Not technically. That¡¯s another one of my skills, but it works into Uncertainty, so¡­ I guess? It¡¯s pointlessly complicated and will probably get censored. So I¡¯m going to retcon my answer to ¡®yes¡¯ and leave it at that until you¡¯re higher clearance.¡±

    ¡°Gotta love the system¡¯s arbitrary bullshit.¡± I sigh and lean back into my spot. ¡°So you can only be hired for combat things. How strict is the definition of ¡®combat¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Loose as hell. I¡¯ve been hired as a bodyguard, a guide, a scout; it counts as long as there¡¯s the chance I¡¯ll have to fight something.¡± Ursula holds out two fingers at me as a simple business card manifests between them. ¡°That has my system contact information on it, and if you don¡¯t already have the communication function installed, it¡¯ll install it for you. Send me a message with a job, and as long as the system lets me, I¡¯ll try to do it. In exchange for games, of course.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± I say and take the card. It melts into my hand, and my system notifies me that I have another contact. ¡°I guess that¡¯s that. How about you, March? Do you still want to make a contract after watching the rounds of blackjack?¡±

    March nods a little. ¡°Yes, please. Should I bring up my skill now? I¡¯m going to bring up my skill.¡±

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    She swivels her chair to face the wall of screens, opens both of her hands wide, and shoves them towards it. Her skill appears in a fireworks display of different shades of pink, though it¡¯s a lot shorter than I was expecting.

    The Blues

    Spend Worth to create a building or fixture from owned blueprints. For each material you have on-hand, reduce this cost.

    Creations have their own unique effects.

    You can set prices to use your creations or charge others to create them.

    ¡°The blues? Like¡­ blueprints?¡±

    ¡°Yes! Blueprints!¡± March exclaims excitedly. ¡°I make magical buildings and modify regular buildings to be made with magical stuff. All I need is a blueprint, which I can either get from the system or make myself, and a bunch of Worth.¡±

    Noland snorts out a quick laugh. ¡°Calling it ¡®a bunch¡¯ greatly undersells how much her skill actually costs. Unless we¡¯ve got the materials on hand, we¡¯re talking five-figure investments for one little hut. You don¡¯t even want to know how much this place cost before we found all the materials to get the price to something even close to reasonable.¡±

    ¡°But the real killer is trying to make some of her better blueprints. The only one we¡¯ve managed to make was the clearwater tower, and that¡¯s because Gil got super lucky with a customer coming in to sell stuff.¡± Ursula adds with a sigh. ¡°You should see the collection she¡¯s amassed. And you should get her to make you a few statues for things like helping you sleep, training your Body, keeping you healthy, and¡­ whatever else you think is important.¡±

    ¡°I was going to say that.¡± March grumbles and hugs her legs tightly. ¡°So many blueprints need things that barely exist. Like everdriftwood and radiosteel.¡±

    My ears perk right up at the mention of everdriftwood. ¡°I¡¯ve got, like, seven everdriftwood saplings. Not, uh, available at the moment, but they¡¯re in my inventory.¡±

    March¡¯s eyes widen so much that her mascara starts to rub off. She looks at Noland and Ursula, as if they¡¯d be able to tell if I was lying, but¡­ they¡¯ve got very similar expressions to hers.

    ¡°What? I mean, I found it when I was still clearance one. It can¡¯t be that valuable.¡± I say awkwardly as the silence stretches on. ¡°You guys know Gil; he stopped me from selling them to him. Ask him about it if you don¡¯t trust me.¡±

    ¡°It¡­ isn¡¯t that we don¡¯t¡­ trust you. It¡¯s that it¡¯s really hard to¡­ believe you.¡± Ursula¡¯s eyes wander to meet Noland¡¯s, then to me. ¡°There¡¯s never been a report of an everdrift tree before. Always just scrap from old shellraiser things washing up on the shore, or from dismantling said shellraiser things. An intact sapling wouldn¡¯t be valuable¡­ it¡­ hell, I don¡¯t think it¡¯d have a value at all. Since there¡¯s nothing for the system to go off of.¡±

    I hold up one finger, pull open my Class Card, and tab over to my inventory. Everything I¡¯d had in my backpack looks like it got transferred to my inventory, including the saplings and all those stat coins. I lean close to Ursula and gesture at all my inventory slots filled with saplings.

    ¡°There they are; all of ¡®em. I can¡¯t get them out of here right now, obviously, but there¡¯s proof that they exist.¡±

    Ursula¡¯s expression somehow flips between disbelief and childlike excitement. She reaches out to tap the inventory slot, but stops herself just before her finger touches my screen. ¡°Can I touch your screen?¡±

    ¡°Not like you¡¯re going to activate it, but sure.¡± I shrug. ¡°Does that let you confirm it somehow?¡±

    ¡°Oh-ho-ho, yeah.¡± Ursula murmurs excitedly. ¡°March, Noland, you need to see this shit. She isn¡¯t bluffing.¡±

    Noland¡¯s chair goes skittering across the floor as he rushes to look over Ursula¡¯s shoulder. March winces at the noise as she gets to her feet, walks around the other two, and stands right next to me. She gets a little too close¨Cagain¨Cand leans in to get a look without so much as asking. Her breath comes quickly, and her eyes shine with hope, so I don¡¯t have the heart to tell her she¡¯s crushing my arm against my side.

    ¡°It¡¯s real.¡± She whispers in disbelief. ¡°They¡¯re actually real. I can¡¯t believe it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, neither can I.¡± Noland agrees with a hearty laugh. He crosses his arms and rests them on Ursula¡¯s shoulders, but she¡¯s too engrossed with her own screen to care. ¡°Eight living everdriftwood saplings. My system can¡¯t even give them a value they¡¯re so rare. Which is extremely good for us, and pretty damn horrible for you, Shelby.¡±

    I cock my head to the side which presses my neck against March¡¯s spine. ¡°I don¡¯t get why it¡¯d suck for me. I can just wait until I¡¯m way higher level and sell all of them to Gil for an obscene profit. Then you can buy them from him after that. We all win.¡±

    ¡°Except for the fact that you¡¯ll be waiting a very, very, very, very, very, very, very¡­¡± Noland trails off as he ticks up a finger for each ¡®very¡¯ he says. ¡°Well, you get the point. It¡¯ll be years before you¡¯re high enough clearance to get what they¡¯re actually worth. That¡¯s why it¡¯s great for us¨Cwe get the chance to convince you to part with them before you get the true value. If you can¡¯t extrapolate how that¡¯s bad for you, then that¡¯s your problem.¡±

    ¡°Cool, but I¡¯m not getting rid of something out of the goodness of my heart.¡± I take a step to the side to free my trapped arm, then drape it over March¡¯s back as she closes the distance. ¡°The only reason I¡¯d give these to you is so you could grow them. Even then, I¡¯d still own every single chunk of bark, piece of root, and seed that comes off of them. All you¡¯d get is a guaranteed constant supply of everdriftwood that you still have to buy.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll do it.¡± March says instantly and looks up at me with eyes that shine with possibility. ¡°I¡¯ll make a greenhouse that can grow them properly and set it up with magic that¡¯ll adapt to its best growing conditions. Do you really promise you¡¯ll sell us all the everdriftwood we want?¡±

    Okay, I wasn¡¯t expecting that. I was expecting something more like a¡­ long negotiation where they talk me down from my selfishness to a compromise we can both agree on. Like a fifty-fifty split of all the everdriftwood they produce. Not eager acceptance of what I thought were pretty awful conditions. I quickly check Noland and Ursula to see if they¡¯re annoyed with March for jumping the gun, but nope. They¡¯re just as ready to jump at my offer as she is.

    Aw, hell. Did I just make a huge mistake? Is this going to bite me in the ass a few months down the line?

    I set my jaw and inhale through my nose. ¡°Is the greenhouse going to be fully automated, or will people have to work in it?¡±

    ¡°I have a skill that takes care of all that. It costs a whole lot, but it¡¯s worth it.¡± March traces her fingertip along the table in wide circles. ¡°I¡¯ll set it up to take the seeds and replant them right after. That way we¡¯ll never run out. Can we get started soon? I can get the blueprint ready in a few days.¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°We can¡¯t use just any blueprint. How long until the other world calls you back?¡±

    ¡°Sometime next month.¡± March replies. ¡°Should I look for a more magical blueprint there?¡±

    ¡°One-hundred percent yes. And go do some research on how the shellraisers used fresh everdriftwood lumber. We don¡¯t want to waste any of this.¡± Ursula continues and finally leans back from my screen, sending Noland staggering with a yelp. ¡°If it comes to it, wait until I get there and hire me for some ruin diving. I¡¯ve got my callback between three and four months from now.¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t worked together in a while. It¡¯ll be fun!¡± March says excitedly. ¡°Hopefully you won¡¯t have to shoot as many people this time.¡±

    Noland snorts out a quick laugh as he bends down to pick up his chair. ¡°Every outing with Ursula ends with her shooting people. It¡¯s pretty much the only thing that¡¯s guaranteed about this planet anymore.¡±

    Pearl giggles at that for some reason. It scares the hell out of me, though, since it means everything they do on Earth is dangerous or contentious enough to get someone pissed off at them. Definitely doesn¡¯t help that the non-magical part of the world sees the preservation as pristine heroes, so we¡¯d be painted as the villains if anything we do goes against what the preservation wants. Including trying to stay alive.

    ¡°So now I know all your skills, what you¡¯re trying to do here at the resort, and¡­ that¡¯s about it.¡± I cross my arms and lean a little harder against March¡¯s back. She doesn¡¯t care. ¡°Now I want to know what I¡¯m supposed to do for however long it is until I get to go back to the other world, how you know when you¡¯re going back, and why we¡¯re even ping-ponging between words in the first place.¡±

    My words hang in the air like breaths on a cold day. I can¡¯t tell if everyone¡¯s a little put off with my questions, or if they¡¯re trying to come up with answers that can get through the censorship. Ursula breaks the silence by clearing her throat, then gestures at the wall of screens to clear all our skills from it.

    Math takes its place. Not that I have anything against math, but having an answer to one of my questions being a pretty complex equation¨Cat least for my standards¨Cdefinitely doesn¡¯t spark any joy.

    ¡°Alright, you see that ¡®T¡¯ there?¡± Ursula taps her fingers against the table. ¡°That stands for time. It means how long you¡¯ve been there in the other world. And the lowercase ¡®t¡¯, that also stands for time, but that one is the amount of time you were on Earth before you got summoned. For you it¡¯s zero right now, but next time you come back, it¡¯ll be based on how long you were here now. Got all that? Good. Now, ¡®MB¡¯ is based on your Body and Mind stats¡­¡±

    I glance back over at the equation for a split second. Based on the amount of letters in it, this is going to take a while.

 Chapter 57: System Restraints

    ¡°So basically, it boils down to how long you were there, what your stats were when you got summoned, what your stats are now, how long you were stuck on Earth after your first summon, and a lot of constants that you don¡¯t need to memorize. Then you factor in your clearance and Worth, and voila, you¡¯ve got your resummon window.¡± Ursula finishes with a wave at a mass of text and hand-scribbled additions on the screens. ¡°If you barely change at all, you can narrow it down to a few hours. You¡¯ll probably be able to narrow it down to a season if you gain five more clearance levels when you go back.¡±

    I pop a gummy snake coated in sour sugar into my mouth and nod. Her explanation was¡­ really in-depth and damn overcomplicated, but somehow it actually managed to stick. That first long equation she¡¯d brought up was simplified and simplified until it was just a few variables long. Pearl fell asleep almost an hour ago, and honestly, I don¡¯t blame her. If I didn¡¯t have my candy to keep me awake I would¡¯ve been lights out.

    Or doing something else completely like Noland and March are. Playing some card game with a bunch of different decks in different coloured sleeves piled up next to each of them. I didn¡¯t expect Noland to be as into it as he is, but he¡¯s giving March a pretty damn good run for her money.

    Ursula follows my eyes, then nods at the pair. ¡°You can go play with them if you want. Thanks for listening to my long-ass explanation; it feels good to actually explain my research to someone.¡±

    ¡°Your research? You did all this work yourself?¡± I ask in disbelief. ¡°How many people did you poll?¡±

    She leans back in her chair and crosses her hands over her stomach. ¡°I think it¡¯s almost four thousand now. Everyone gives up the info willingly when they reappear in the resort so they don¡¯t have to worry about when they¡¯re going to be called, if you¡¯re worried I¡¯m blackmailing it outta them. Believe it or not, nobody likes shitting the bed because they don¡¯t know if they¡¯re going to wake up somewhere different from where they fell asleep.¡±

    I nod in agreement; that¡¯s a feeling I know all too well. Even if it¡¯s only in hindsight. ¡°So how do you get summoned back? Does another post pop up, or does it just steal you away in the night?¡±

    ¡°Depends on when it happens. There¡¯s usually a pillar that you have to swipe your Class Card through, and then you get a series of options. One; go right back without a fight. Two; pay some Worth and stay on Earth a little while longer. And three; delay your entry until someone else gets called back. But once you do the third option, both you and that person don¡¯t get a choice to delay it again.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯d ever choose to stay on Earth? Especially if it means you¡¯re losing Worth to do it.¡± I shake my head. ¡°I¡¯d go back there right now if I could. There¡¯s still so much more to do and see that I barely dipped my toes in.¡±

    ¡°That we agree on.¡± Ursula says with a grin. ¡°Noland and March, too. But it¡¯s definitely not the common sentiment. Hell, just saying that near a member of the Preservation would set them the hell off.¡±

    ¡°Because they¡¯re so obsessed with taking Earth back from the apocalypse.¡±

    ¡°Bingo.¡±

    I¡¯ve never really thought about it, but it makes perfect sense. Why would you put your life on the line for Earth if you¡¯re just looking forward to the timer ticking down to put you back on the other world? Hell, that explains why they¡¯d think someone like me is dangerous. I got back, killed a dragonjet, repurposed all the materials that were some company¡¯s property, and ran the hell away.

    Because they would¡¯ve killed, imprisoned, or tortured me.

    ¡°How do they find new recruits, anyway?¡± I ask. ¡°If they kill everyone with enough power to be a threat, then how do they end up with recruits?¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°They don¡¯t kill everyone with power. Just people who won¡¯t use that power for them. If you¡¯d waited for them to show up and then helped them take down the dragonjet, they probably would¡¯ve hired you on the spot. Maybe even promoted you a few times up the rung.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, after the dragonjet destroyed a city block and murdered a few stray civilians.¡± I chuckle humorlessly. ¡°There was a woman in a crop-top hoodie in the street. She looked scared out of her mind, and if I wasn¡¯t there, the dragonjet would¡¯ve obliterated her. Hell, if I¡¯d just run like I was planning to, it would¡¯ve killed her. Maybe the preservation could try being on time if they don¡¯t want someone taking their kills.¡±

    ¡°And that right there is the attitude they hate.¡± Ursula reaches for her bag of pretzels and pops it open with a grunt. ¡°The ¡®I can do it on my own¡¯ competence. It scares the hell out of them, since they know what powerful individuals can do if they want something to happen. So yeah, you made the right choice. Not sure how you managed to do it with your clearance, but I¡¯m not going to question it. I¡¯ve seen weirder things.¡±

    She holds out the bag to me with a raise of her eyebrow. I shake my head, and she shrugs before pulling the bag close to her chest. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m telling them the parts about Pearl¡¯s or my influence helping out with the kill, but there¡¯s no harm spinning the rest of the truth.

    ¡°Coinbound spells. And a lot of ¡®em.¡± I say with a flourish of my fingers. A coin appears between them, its markings extremely familiar against my skin. ¡°Someone said something about diminishing returns, right? How severe is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a non-linear exponential decay. For your first few extra Worth, you get almost full value out of it. After three, you start seeing dropoffs. After five, you¡¯re only getting a half Worth of extra value per Worth you put in. And it keeps dropping off after that.¡± Ursula explains. ¡°Of course, that¡¯s only for a spell that can be cast with one Worth. If it has a higher floor, just multiply those numbers by the lowest amount of Worth you can put in the spell.¡±

    I open my Class Card and go to record that information. ¡°That¡¯s good info to have. If I have a spell that can have one or more Worth in it, where¡¯s the sweet spot?¡±

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Ten.¡± Ursula says confidently. ¡°The tenth Worth you put into it is worth a quarter, but the eleventh is only worth a tenth. And a twelfth is worth a twenty-fifth. So just multiply your lowest you can put in by ten and you¡¯ve got your effective ceiling.¡±

    More good info. Info I¡¯m surprised the system hasn¡¯t tried to censor from me. Maybe it¡¯s because Ursula did all the research on her own. Or maybe it doesn¡¯t see it as important enough to worry about. Eh, it¡¯s my win, so I¡¯ll take it without thinking too deeply. I quickly scribble 10x next to the other info and push my screen to the side.

    I wonder how my skill interacts with that. Would it double the strength of a 10 Worth spell, or would it make it as strong as a twenty-Worth spell, diminishing returns and all? Does it matter if I put the spell in the coin before I double it, or does it all end up the same in the end?

    Questions I¡¯ve got a lot of time to answer. Way too much, if Ursula¡¯s calculations are right.

    ¡°Four to six months.¡± I mutter to myself and lean back to stare at the ceiling. ¡°And it¡¯ll only get longer and longer the stronger I get. How do you stand all this waiting?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°There are skills and system upgrades that mess with the equation. I¡¯d recommend taking them if you ever see one. But for now, yeah, you just have to grin and bear it. Take in some sights, kill some apocalypse touched monsters, and work on your skills as best as you can. Oh, and if you decide you want to, you can join us on some jobs.¡±

    ¡°Not sure if I¡¯ll ever want that, but thanks for the offer.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll get bored. We all do.¡±

    I don¡¯t doubt that one bit. But there¡¯s got to be a lot in the resort that I can busy myself with. There were some people on jet skis last night, a huge bonfire on the beach with a lot of music, and more than a few shops that looked pretty interesting. Just because I can¡¯t progress any quests, doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to get bored out of my skull.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got more questions if you¡¯re still in an answering mood.¡±

    Ursula gestures for me to go ahead.

    ¡°Alright. Why¡¯s the system sending us back here at all? It sent the apocalypse here and took a bunch of people at the same time. We couldn¡¯t really fight back until the first generation came back, which was way longer than two weeks, if I¡¯m not wrong.¡± I take a handful of gummy worms and shove them into my mouth. ¡°So why does everyone else get sent for a few weeks? Why take a bunch of people for a longer time right when the apocalypse got here? And if it¡¯s trying to protect us, why not drop coins here like a year before the apocalypse happened?¡±

    ¡°Damned if I know.¡± Ursula laughs. ¡°Those are questions I¡¯ve been asking since the day I saw my commanding officer put a coin in a pillar and disappear. Asshole left all of us to die. And I keep asking myself; how was that first batch of people chosen? Because it wasn¡¯t the best. It wasn¡¯t the smartest. And it sure as hell wasn¡¯t the strongest. Which left me with one terrifying option; it was completely random.¡±

    She leans in and pops the lid off her milkshake, then takes a big drink directly from the cup, completely ignoring the straw that tries to poke her in the eye. With a sigh of contentment, she sets the half-full glass back down and taps herself on the chest.

    ¡°Now add that randomness to everything else, and it starts to make sense. Horrible sense, but sense nonetheless. My leading theory is that the system didn¡¯t choose Earth; the apocalypse did, and the system just trailed behind it like a vulture waiting for scraps. ¡®Course, that doesn¡¯t explain why we haven¡¯t found a single trace of an apocalypse on the other world. Our best clue is whatever happened to the shellraisers, but they¡¯re as much a myth as they are real things.¡±

    I nod in agreement at her misunderstanding. ¡°So you think the system is¡­ what, a cosmic janitor for the mess the apocalypse leaves in its wake?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way of looking at it, yeah. Or you could look at it the other way around; the system brought coins and magic to Earth, and since we weren¡¯t magical at all, it somehow caused the apocalypse. Then there¡¯s the system savior theory, the cosmic bullshit theory, the prophecy theory, and a whole bunch more that you could easily find on the internet.¡±

    ¡°Wow. Seems like it¡¯s pretty important.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re damn right it¡¯s important. We¡¯re putting our lives in the hands of something completely unknown¨Cand only us Worth classes know how it can play favorites. Gil saw the first dregs of it and we¡¯re dealing with full-blown hatred.¡± Ursula shakes her head and sighs in frustration. ¡°We can¡¯t try to guess what the system¡¯s thinking since we don¡¯t even know if it can think. It could be acting out some ancient programming, or it could be a sentient thing bound to a bunch of rules for some reason we can¡¯t even start to imagine.¡±

    She gestures at the screens. Countless lines of text begin to cascade from the top like a waterfall, flowing down to the bottom where they collect in a mass of digital waste. I can¡¯t make much of anything out in the slew, but there¡¯s definitely more than one language there.

    ¡°Truth is we don¡¯t know shit. The system keeps all its secrets locked up tight, and uses Mind to keep us from learning anything it doesn¡¯t want us to. It¡¯s bullshit, but there¡¯s nothing we can do about it except keep increasing our stats and hope that it eventually lets us learn the real secrets. All we know is that it does everything it does for a constant reason. A reason we haven¡¯t cracked yet, but a reason nonetheless.¡±

    Exhaustion and curiosity tint Ursula¡¯s words. Both in almost equal parts, but for now, the curiosity slightly outdoes the exhaustion. Though with how frustrated she seems to be with her own lack of progress, that balance could easily shift in the blink of an eye. Which means it''s time to change the subject.

    ¡°You¡­ said there were jobs I could be part of. What kind of jobs?¡±

    I grimace at my own poor choice of subject, but wash it from my face before Ursula can notice. Not a good look to say I don¡¯t want to do something, then ask about it a few minutes later.

    ¡°Lots of stuff. Some shit the preservation won¡¯t go within a hundred miles of, and some stuff that steps on their toes so much we¡¯re basically dancing. Noland organizes most of that, so ask him about it later if you¡¯re actually interested. Then there¡¯s the whole ¡®safe coin exchange¡¯ thing we run, but that¡¯s contingent on people actually selling coins. Which means people have to find coins, which means the system usually has to create a new batch.¡±

    ¡°Is that on a timer too?¡±

    ¡°Nope. No way to tell when it wants to do it; we just watch the webpage for people posting their coins, and when there''s a bunch of them all at once, we know the system sent out a new batch. Last time was almost a year and a half ago now, so we¡¯re overdue for one. Not that it means anything.¡±

    ¡°Well, if that happens, I¡¯ve got something I want to try out.¡±

    I mime flicking a coin into the air to get my point across. Ursula raises an eyebrow, but seems to understand what I¡¯m getting at after a second. All the exhaustion leaves her in one breath until only curiosity remains.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure we buy one of them for our own use. Just to see what happens.¡± She says with a small but insistent smile. ¡°You¡¯ve got to have a bunch more questions, but it¡¯s getting close-ish to pizza time. Let¡¯s put in an order, then we¡¯ll see what we can do to get you better equipped to survive these next up-to-six months on Earth.¡±

 Chapter 58: Coinfall

    The pizza was delicious.

    Some of the best I¡¯ve ever had, honestly; only childhood memories come close to dethroning it. It¡¯s damn hard to beat nostalgia, plus with all the security bullshit holding the delivery up for ten minutes? A fresh pepperoni, bacon, and mushroom would probably put my taste buds in a headlock and beat them senseless with flavour.

    Having good company that actually wants to be around me helps, too. And each of them eats so differently that it¡¯s almost like they¡¯re from different species; Noland shoves it at his mouth without caring for how much sauce he gets on his face. It¡¯s more like he¡¯s trying to punish the food for looking so delicious instead of actually eating it. Watching it was like watching a nature documentary, or feeding time at the zoo.

    Neither March nor Ursula cared. Ursula just made sure he had a ton of napkins. Speaking of, she ate so quickly I barely noticed until she¡¯d downed half a pizza and almost a dozen wings. Somehow, not a single drop of sauce marred her clothes or face. And she wasn¡¯t even done; the rest of the pizza and another half-dozen wings fell to her voracious appetite before the night was over, plus two more milkshakes and two cans of sparkling water.

    Then there¡¯s March. She ate like a mouse holding her plate close to her chest, ripping her food apart and eating it in tiny little chunks. It took her way longer than everyone else to finish up, but she ended up eating the second most out of everyone. Only behind Ursula.

    We talked about pretty much nothing all night, just sharing stories and experiences we¡¯d all had¨Cmagic or not¨Cbefore we went our separate ways. It was¡­ really nice. Reminded me of those few nights Jazz and I took off to order in Chinese and watch whatever movies we could find on a website for free. I¡¯m still not really sure if they¡¯re supposed to be my bosses, my coworkers, or an adventuring party, but at the very least I think I want to get to know them better.

    ¡°Wow. I really missed a lot.¡± Pearl yawns. ¡°How about the contracts? They didn¡¯t screw you over, right?¡±

    I lean back in a comfortable hanging chair I put in an order for and shift so I¡¯m half lying down. ¡°Nope. If anything, I feel like I got the much better end of them. Noland¡¯s skill is kind of crazy, especially if he can up the interest rate. Ursula¡¯s is more combat useful, and March¡¯s is kind of a mystery to me. But it looks like she¡¯ll be able to grow the everdriftwood saplings, so it¡¯s probably crazy in its own way.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Wow. Again.¡± Pearl giggles as she leans out of her shell to rest on my shoulder. ¡°Everdriftwood is really annoying to grow. But I guess if she has a skill that can take the place of all our cultivation methods, then it¡¯ll work just fine. Unless she¡¯s going to try and research those methods?¡±

    ¡°Yup, she is.¡± I confirm. ¡°In a month when she goes back. After she gets back we¡¯ll actually make a greenhouse for them, and if the wood¡¯s actually as valuable as they think it is, we¡¯ll eventually be rolling in Worth. Or¡­ just wood to make more things. Which is pretty good, too.¡±

    Pearl nods in agreement and fully slips free of her shell. ¡°More than good. Fresh everdriftwood is so magically malleable that it can do almost anything you¡¯d need any other wood for. We could upgrade the things we made at the workshop with new wood when it¡¯s ready for harvest, and if I can actually get the blueprints ready for some of the more complex things, we might be able to make something amazing.¡±

    She crawls onto my chest and curls up in a little ball. Exhaustion radiates off her tiny form even though she¡¯s been sleeping most of the way. I raise a hand to lightly pat her on the head, and she lets out a happy little sigh at the contact.

    ¡°Sorry for being so tired. Repairing your awareness is taking way more out of me than I thought it would.¡± She apologizes with another little yawn. ¡°Illumisia took on way more of the strain of remaking your body than I realized. But I promise I¡¯ll have it repaired really soon. It¡¯s¡­ the least I can do for you.¡±

    ¡°Pearl, no. You don¡¯t have to¡­¡± I trail off as quiet, rhythmic breaths meet my ears. ¡°Damn, you¡¯re a good sleeper. Night, Pearl. Tomorrow we¡¯ll see what this place has for entertainment.¡±

    <hr>

    Salty air washes through my hair as I sit comfortably on a beach chair a good bit away from the surf. Mai tai in one hand and the third installment in some random book series March recommended in the other. It¡¯s not bad, but it¡¯s not¡­ to my tastes, either. Not that it¡¯s stopped me from getting to book three, I guess. It¡¯s been about three weeks since I got here, and after trying almost everything the resort has to offer, I¡¯m finally starting to feel it.

    Bored.

    Out of my skull. Pearl, too, if her antsiness at a lack of progress is anything to go by. She¡¯s all done with every single blueprint we¡¯ve found, and her findings are the same for each one; we need materials. Not just shellraiser glass and everdriftwood, but a bunch of other things she can¡¯t say without giving me a headache. Now she¡¯s counting down the days until March goes back to the other world so we can actually start working on the greenhouse.

    ¡°So¡­ what else can we do?¡± Pearl leans against something in her shell and rests her cheek on her fist. ¡°Some of these things have been fun, I guess, but I¡¯m tired of relaxing. Can¡¯t we¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ go train or something? Ooh, or find a workshop where I can see how machines work around here.¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Remember what March said? She makes all the buildings, and everything else is imported from manufacturers that can make things that stand up to the apocalypse. So no mechanics, workshops, or anything like that.¡±

    Pearl pouts adorably and lets herself sprawl out. ¡°I know, but can¡¯t we apply for some kind of permit? It¡¯s not like my skills are going to dull with just a few weeks of not working, but¡­ um¡­ I¡¯m really bored. And it¡¯s starting to worry me.¡±

    I get where she¡¯s coming from. I really do. Even though I¡¯ve been going to the gym every day for the last eighteen days, I still feel like I¡¯m not doing enough. Both my knife and my matrix have gone completely unused since the highway ambush, and¡­ honestly, I¡¯ve been itching to have an excuse to use them. But I haven¡¯t had any reason to, and I¡¯m this close to saying to hell with it and dipping into my Worth to get some testing done.

    ¡°Let¡¯s try something else.¡± I snap my book shut and down the rest of my drink. My muscles tense as I stand with a stretch and a wince, the morning¡¯s workout finally catching up to me. ¡°There¡¯s something off about this beach anyway.¡±

    ¡°Definitely.¡± Pearl agrees with a look around. ¡°Even if it¡¯s only five out of a hundred, it¡¯s really weird seeing all these people with masks. If it was me, I¡¯d make it illegal to wear them in the resort, but obviously the others don¡¯t agree.¡±

    One woman in a skimpy bikini and a mask that covers the bottom of her face like a bandana trails me with her eyes as I start to walk away. Two more men join her after a few seconds; one as built as a competition bodybuilder and the other with the lean physique of an olympic swimmer. Both of them have half-face masks that look like half of a stylized beetle, as if one mask had been split into two and given to both of them.

    Stolen story; please report.

    And that¡¯s only the ones who¡¯re being obvious enough for my awareness to notice. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if everyone on the beach with a mask was at least slightly paying attention to me. Then again, half of the beach watches me as I walk away. That¡¯s the problem with being publicly announced as ¡®The Gambler¡¯; I don¡¯t really get the luxury of anonymity. Not unless I put on my own mask.

    ¡°Am I being paranoid for thinking they¡¯re watching us?¡± Pearl asks with suspicion. ¡°Because it looks like they¡¯re watching us.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not paranoia if you actually know they¡¯re watching us. Which we know they are, thanks to Noland spreading my title and face around like some kind of celebrity.¡± I sigh and shake my head to get my hair back into place. ¡°So he owes me. If he won¡¯t tell me where the three of them train their skills, I¡¯ll just use the meeting room and put the repairs on his¨C¡±

    Something smacks me on the forehead, stopping me dead in my tracks. I blink a few times to get rid of the surprise of something completely sneaking through my awareness, then look down at the ground to see what the hell managed that feat. Buried right there, halfway down in the sand from the drop, is a coin. A shining silver coin with a slight blue tint and a simple shield embossed onto it.

    Who the hell flicked a coin at me? I look around for any perpetrators as I kneel down to grab the coin, which my awareness is now caressing like a small animal. If the thing was flying fast enough to get through my awareness, it definitely should¡¯ve done some serious damage. Not the absolutely none that wiping my fingers over my forehead returns.

    ¡°Whoah. Um. Wow.¡± Pearl giggles nervously. ¡°I think we just hit the jackpot.¡±

    Jackpot? For what? I grab the coin between my fingers and brush the sand off it, raise it up to my face, and flip it around. The other side has what looks like a vault door on it. Nothing too crazy, but also nothing I¡¯ve ever seen before. Maybe it¡¯s a Body coin? Or a coin someone made with their skill that acts like a one-time shield.

    Class Coin: Defender.

    Primary Stats: Body, Soul, and Fate.

    Ownership Status: Unused.

    You already have a Class; as such, this cannot be used.

    Oh. OH! Shit, this has to be the system thing Ursula told me about! Coins appearing out of nowhere, making a new batch of system-born to send off to the other world! Which means more people hiring them for jobs. Which also means I don¡¯t have to be bored any more. Which also also means I¡¯ll actually have a reason to try out my new spells in my shellraiser devices!

    ¡°Niiiice.¡± I say with a widening grin. ¡°Let¡¯s see how this puppy flips.¡±

    Before I have a chance to try anything, my system starts screaming at me. I wince at the noise and pull it up, revealing a brand new notification on my communications tab that I instantly know is from Ursula. She must¡¯ve just found out about the coins, too. Hell, Noland could¡¯ve just told her about the one I¡¯ve got between my fingers right now.

    ¡°Big news, Shelby! We¡¯ve got reports of coins appearing all over Earth, and we¡¯ve already got a request to oversee a sale. Plus, Noland says one happened to appear in our backyard of all places. Come to the meeting room as soon as you can. We¡¯ve got things to do.¡±

    ¡°Finally, something interesting! Yay!¡± Pearl squeals with delight. ¡°You¡¯re going to take the job, right? We aren¡¯t just going to sit around here for another six months, right?¡±

    ¡°God, no. I can¡¯t sit around doing nothing all day.¡± I laugh and pocket the coin. ¡°Not anymore, at least.¡±

    <hr>

    The wall opens up to a room full of excitement. Ursula and Noland are busy fiddling with a bunch of maps and chess pieces on the table while March reads off a bunch of names from a tablet she¡¯s got pressed up against her knees.

    ¡°Red Deer, Alberta, Canada.¡± March says. ¡°One bronze coin reported so far.¡±

    Noland frowns, then swipes his hand across the map. It shifts until it shows the lower half of Canada, and he zooms in even further on where I assume Alberta is. He places a single pawn somewhere on it, then taps the top of it once. Plain white bleeds away to complete bronze and the piece melts into the map, joining a few other stains as marks on the map.

    ¡°Nothing else in Alberta?¡± He asks as Ursula waves me over. ¡°No pairs, no preservation activity?¡±

    March shakes her head. ¡°Nothing at all.¡±

    ¡°Alright, then North America¡¯s probably not the center this time. Anything else in Canada¡¯s general vicinity?¡±

    I step up to the table as Ursula steps slightly away. Noland and March keep on with their reports as we move to another part of the table, and when we¡¯re far enough not to disturb them, I gesture inquisitively at Noland with two fingers.

    ¡°Why the map and not something digital?¡±

    Ursula reaches into her pocket and holds up a chess piece for me to see. ¡°Part of Noland¡¯s skill. If we keep track of it this way he gets better at predicting where the coins will fall and instantly memorizes everything. I don¡¯t pretend to understand all of it, but it¡¯s not that much more work, so we do it for him.¡±

    ¡°How nice of you. Now, about that job¡­¡±

    ¡°Figured you¡¯d be interested. Especially after you went through the post other world blues.¡± Ursula grins and sets her briefcase on the table. ¡°We¡¯ve got two jobs now¨Cone to oversee a transaction between a rich guy from Dubai who¡¯s buying a Scout coin, and another to find a Warrior coin for someone in Beijing without the Chinese government confiscating it. That one¡¯s annoying since the buyer can¡¯t leave China for some reason, so we¡¯d have to smuggle it in.¡±

    I lean around Ursula to look at Noland. ¡°Couldn¡¯t he just teleport us there?¡±

    ¡°Nope; China has anti-teleportation magic woven into all their borders. Even if we teleport in close, we¡¯re crossing somewhere. With magic involved, we¡¯re not getting through without someone questioning us. It could even be a bait request; we¡¯ve had a few of those before, and a few of our other trusted non-Worth guys almost got executed for it.¡±

    ¡°Ouch. Almost makes it seem like that one¡¯s not worth looking at.¡±

    ¡°On that we agree.¡± Ursula pops open her briefcase and pulls out her tablet. ¡°The first one isn¡¯t too dangerous; the buyer¡¯s bought multiple coins before to give out to his own people. We¡¯ll probably send some non-Worths to do that. But there¡¯s one reason we can¡¯t just overlook the second one.¡±

    She flips her tablet around to show me a simple picture. A young Chinese woman in what looks like a traditional dress with her makeup done to the nines, all accentuating a warm but calculating smile. Her jet black hair is done up in a single bun in the back with two wooden chopsticks poking through. The picture alone sends a shiver down my spine. I can¡¯t quite place why.

    ¡°There¡¯s something¡­ wrong about this picture.¡± I guess and take the tablet in my hands. An attempt to zoom out informs me that this is the entire picture. ¡°What am I looking at here?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Ursula taps the woman¡¯s face twice. ¡°The second I saw that picture I knew something was wrong with it. At first I thought it was doctored; someone fake but pleasant as a front for whoever¡¯s actually buying the coin. But nope; that¡¯s a real woman whose name I can¡¯t tell you yet. She isn¡¯t a hostage, she isn¡¯t super rich, and she doesn¡¯t have a history that explains why she¡¯s the one doing this request. Or why she can¡¯t leave China to get the coin.¡±

    ¡°Maybe someone¡¯s buying it for her. And since they want to make sure she¡¯s the one that gets the coin, they want to do the sale under their watch.¡± I suggest, but as it leaves my lips, something tells me it¡¯s wrong. ¡°Ursula, does anyone close to this woman already have a class?¡±

    ¡°Not in the info I¡¯ve got. Why?¡±

    I tap one of the woman¡¯s earrings. ¡°Because that looks like everdriftwood.¡±

 Chapter 59: What Can Wait, And What Cant

    ¡°No shit?¡± Ursula leans in even closer. Her eyes narrow heavily, then go as wide as saucers. ¡°Shit, you¡¯re right. And unless China¡¯s got way less restrictive laws on selling other world materials, that means she¡¯s got a contact who¡¯s supplying her. Or if she isn¡¯t hiding her wealth, she¡¯s got friends in high places. That¡¯s dangerous as shit. Can I have the tablet back?¡±

    I nod and hand over the tablet. Ursula takes it and starts frantically tapping away at it. She¡¯s ignoring the one easy solution to all of this; let it be someone else¡¯s problem. The woman will either find a way to get her coin or ease her requirements at some point, and that¡¯s when we could try to deal with her. Right now there¡¯s way too many questions and pretty much no answers. And we can¡¯t even trust the answers we¡¯ve got.

    ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± I ask when it¡¯s obvious Ursula isn¡¯t going to be done looking any time soon. ¡°Is there anything a little closer to home that I can do? Noland has to have a bead on some coins I could go out and get; I can do that right now.¡±

    ¡°Except for the one in this room with us right now, there aren¡¯t any within my range.¡± He says, then snaps his head to stare at me. ¡°Waaaait a second. Unless that coin grew legs and walked right over here, I¡¯d say someone had to pick it up and bring it here.¡±

    Ursula looks over her tablet and raises an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re the one that picked up the coin? Damn, that¡¯s lucky. Which class is it?¡±

    Guess the cat¡¯s out of the bag now. Not that I was trying to hide it. I pull the coin out of my pocket and hold it up for everyone to see. Including March, who¡¯s focused on me like I''m the most interesting thing in the room.

    ¡°Defender. It¡¯s Fate, Body, and Soul. Is it a good one?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re all good ones.¡± Noland replies eagerly. ¡°Too bad it isn¡¯t one of the ones we¡¯re looking for, though. That¡¯d make things a little easier. So, what¡¯re you going to do with it? Sell it? Give it to someone? Hold onto it for a rainy day?¡±

    ¡°Flip it!¡± March chimes in.

    Noland turns and points at her. ¡°Or that. I vote for that.¡±

    ¡°Same here.¡± Ursula agrees.

    ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯d like to see it too.¡± Pearl adds. ¡°I¡¯ll make it stop if it looks like it¡¯s going to do something horrible to you.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know Pearl could do that, but that¡¯s reassuring¡­ I guess? The coin weighs heavily in my hand as I press it up against my thumb. Potential millions of dollars could be thrown away with just one motion. Curiosity wars against common sense as everyone in the room eggs me on with their looks of excitement. Even Pearl lets out a curious little squeal as I tense my thumb in preparation.

    ¡°You all know there¡¯s a chance this doesn¡¯t even work. My skill only works on things with Worth, and I don¡¯t know if Class Coins even have Worth.¡± I remind them. ¡°Don¡¯t be too disappointed if nothing happens.¡±

    With the warning in place, I set the shield as tails and flip the coin high into the air. Everyone¡¯s eyes follow it perfectly as it spins in place¡­ and spins, and spins¡­ and spins some more. A keening whine grows louder and louder as the coin spins faster and faster, shoving enough wind at my face to set my hair blowing and forcing my eyes partially shut.

    ¡°Is this normal?¡± Ursula asks over the growing noise.

    I shake my head nervously. If anything, this feels like when twist fate should activate¨Cnot a weird side effect of high stakes. The coin spins faster and faster, whipping enough windy noise up that an outsider might think we¡¯re trying to launch a jet. March covers her ears and looks away with a groan of discomfort, but Noland and Ursula both stare at the coin as if they were entranced.

    My awareness flares as something takes hold of my body. Pearl yelps in surprise as her enhanced awareness is dragged into it as well, guiding my hand up to the coin with the inevitability of a log being dragged towards a circular saw. Tendrils of black speckled with colour snake out to wrap around the coin, slowing its incessant motion down to a leisurely spin as my fingers wrap around the slightly warm prize.

    The shield sears itself into my palm. I flip my hand over and take a deep breath, hoping really hard that the tendrils are something only I could see, and spread my fingers as I speak a single word.

    ¡°Heads.¡±

    A black luster spreads over the silver coin. It melds with the blue to create a darkness dotted by tiny stars of colour, painting the coin in a completely different light. My awareness greedily devours this new sensation as I flip the coin into my fingers to take a closer look. But aside from the new sheen, nothing really seems to have changed.

    Class ??? Coin: Fortress.

    Primary Stats: Body, Soul, and Fate.

    Ownership Status: ???.

    You have an ??? Class; as such, this cannot be used.

    ¡°Fortress?¡± I frown and hold the coin up to the light. The pattern¡¯s still exactly the same, so what¡¯s with the name change? ¡°Ursula, Noland, March? Have any of you heard of ¡®Fortress¡¯ before?¡±

    Ursula shrugs. Noland shakes his head. And March gingerly takes her hands off her ears since the noise has finally died down. I¡¯ll take all that as three ¡®no¡¯s. What the hell is Fortress, then? If there¡¯s only one class per grouping of stats, there shouldn¡¯t be a difference between this one and Defender.

    ¡°Is there a difference in the description?¡± Noland asks. ¡°That¡¯s usually where we get our hints from. Unless the system decided to be nice and told you the differences?¡±

    I snort out a laugh at the same time as Ursula. ¡°Nope; just a bunch of question marks in inconvenient places. Who has the highest Mind stat here?¡±

    March¡¯s hand rockets into the air. I nod and flick the coin to her, which she catches with ease. She stares down at it for a moment before she takes out her Class Card to check the description. Her face scrunches into confusion after just a few seconds of reading.

    ¡°Do you see three sets of question marks?¡± I ask.

    She nods. ¡°One after ¡®Class¡¯, one after ¡®Ownership Status¡¯, and one between ¡®an¡¯ and ¡®Class¡¯.¡± She lists off with a frown, then swipes through her screens. ¡°Why does it say ¡®an¡¯?¡±

    Noland raises an eyebrow in question. ¡°An?¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. The descriptions I recorded all say ¡®You already have a Class¡¯. This one says ¡®You have an ??? Class¡¯. No ¡®already¡¯, and it replaced ¡®a¡¯ with ¡®an¡¯.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°That¡¯s weird. March, can you roll it over here?¡± Ursula asks. March nods and does exactly that. ¡°Thank you. Shelby, do we have your permission to pass this thing around to as many people with different Classes as we can find?¡±

    She eyes the coin suspiciously, but doesn¡¯t open her system to double-check March¡¯s description. I check her face and body language for any signs of greed, but she actually just seems interested in whatever mysteries the question marks in the description hide.

    ¡°Sure, I guess. But you can¡¯t leave it with anyone; you give it to them, get them to tell you what they see, and take it right back. I¡¯m not losing something this precious because one of you gave it to some money-grubbing asshole. Oh, and I¡¯m keeping it for now.¡±

    Ursula nods and hands me back the coin. ¡°No worries about that; we¡¯ll oversee everything ourselves. I¡¯ll report any of our findings right back to you, too. So, did your skill change at all? Is it on cooldown? If so, how long is the cooldown?¡±

    ¡°Give me a second to check.¡±

    I pull out my Class Card and swipe over to my skills. A very obvious change stares back at me in bold letters, but it doesn¡¯t solve any of the mysteries the new coin created.

    High Stakes: Gambler Class skill.

    Create a situation with a non-determinative outcome.

    Any Worth you wager on that outcome will be paid out based on the situation¡¯s odds.

    If you are caught cheating, you instantly lose.

    Worth gained in this way cannot be used again with this skill.

    If used on a coin with a Worth value that is not a pure Worth coin, this skill cannot be used for two hours.

    If used on a Class Coin, cannot be used on another Class Coin for 2400 Hours. Cooldown reduced if the empowered Class Coin is used.

    Current maximum odds: 1/1.

    Upgrade cost:???

    Upgrade requirements:???

    ¡°Twenty-four hundred hours.¡± I say with a gulp and close my Class Card. ¡°Lowered by an unspecified amount when someone uses the coin. Luckily it doesn¡¯t lock me out of the skill like using it on a skill coin does, but that¡¯s still one hell of a cooldown.¡±

    ¡°Three in a year? Yeah, I¡¯d say that¡¯s a massive coodown.¡± Noland chuckles and crosses his arms. ¡°From experience, the system doesn¡¯t hand out cooldowns like that unless the effects are really worth it. How long do you want to hold onto the coin before you give it to someone without a class?¡±

    ¡°Until I¡¯m sure I won¡¯t be giving them anything weird. Or a part of my own class.¡± I pocket the coin and pat it with two fingers. ¡°I don¡¯t trust the system with anything; this could be one complicated way to screw me over somehow. I¡¯ll¡­ give it to someone when I¡¯m about to go back. That way I can actually see what happens to them.¡±

    Ursula nods in agreement. ¡°Good call. You want us to keep it somewhere safe for you?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°It¡¯s safer in my pocket than anywhere else. So, the Chinese woman?¡±

    ¡°Right, okay. We¡¯ll put her on the backburner for a while until we¡¯ve got more information or a coin to sell her. Hopefully nobody finds what she¡¯s looking for for at least a few months.¡± Ursula takes out her tablet again and puts it on the table. ¡°Oh, looks like another request¡¯s come in. This one¡¯s in the country, at least, and it¡¯s a¡­ huh. Not a sale. We don¡¯t get those very often.¡±

    ¡°Ooh, not a sale? What is it?¡± Noland leans in close. All interest quickly leaves him as he sees what the job actually is. ¡°An escort job. Yuck. You can do that one, Ursula.¡±

    ¡°That was always the plan, but thank you very much for volunteering me.¡± She says flatly. ¡°And would you look at that¨Cthere¡¯s another part of the request that she wants us to do before we escort her. Looks pretty dangerous to me.¡±

    Noland leans on one elbow and waves Ursula off. ¡°You know I can¡¯t go into the limelight anymore. They¡¯ll be on me like ants on a picnic. March, will you be here until the deadline?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± March says as she scooches her chair closer to Ursula. ¡°When is the escort thing?¡±

    ¡°A week and two days.¡± Ursula relays as she reaches around Noland to hand March the tablet. ¡°If everything goes right, you should have half a day to spare before you get to leave. You alright with spending a few days helping us out?¡±

    March nods slightly as she reads from the tablet. ¡°I can do this easily. I¡¯ll get the equipment ready and stock up the fridge.¡±

    Ursula accepts the tablet back as March gets up and walks straight to the wall-door. ¡°We¡¯ll contact you when we¡¯re ready to get started. Shelby, are you coming along?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I say without thinking. ¡°We¡¯ll be counting on you, March.¡±

    A shy smile crosses March¡¯s lips, and she waves back at us with her fingers as the wall opens up for her. She walks through a second later, leaving the three of us alone to prepare for whatever job I just signed up for. I gesture for Ursula to hand me the tablet.

    ¡°So what did I just sign up for?¡±

    She spins it around and drops it into my hands. ¡°Escort work for some kind of model. Uh, bodyguard duty. Escort work sounds¡­ not like what we¡¯re doing.¡±

    I smile at her poor choice of words and tap on the description to bring up the first part of the request. Which¡­ looks like it¡¯s actually the second part of the request. Since it requires a coin that the requester¨Cwho hasn¡¯t provided a picture¨Cneeds us to retrieve for her. Not get, but retrieve; she¡¯s apparently already found the coin, and we just have to go get it from her storehouse. A coin for a class that she¡¯s not willing to divulge until she gets proof that we¡¯re at location.

    Which is an abandoned offshore oil rig. Out in the middle of the ocean. Which is infested with monstrous machinery that was touched by the apocalypse. Oh, and it¡¯s in the process of being claimed by the apocalypse, if everything else wasn¡¯t enough.

    For the next week. After which it¡¯ll become a monster like the one that caused the Northwest Passage to become completely un-sailable for almost a decade. How in hell did she manage to get the coin onto an offshore oil rig in the first place? Isn¡¯t she supposed to be a model? Am I missing some connection between fashion models and offshore drilling companies?

    ¡°Getting cold feet?¡± Ursula asks with what sounds like sarcasm. But when I look up with a retort at the tip of my tongue, all I see is sincerity. ¡°I know this is probably a lot for your first outing, but we shouldn¡¯t see anything worse than that dragonjet.¡±

    ¡°Nothing worse than the dragonjet? You think this¨C¡± I rap my knuckles against the tablet in disbelief, ¡°isn¡¯t worse than a dragonjet? The last time an offshore krarig appeared it almost destroyed half of Greenland. No offense, but I don¡¯t think the two of us have the combined military might of the preservation to kill it with.¡±

    ¡°A little offense taken. But the krarig won¡¯t be completely taken until we¡¯re done with it. The bigger a thing is, the longer it takes for the apocalypse to claim it. Sure, there¡¯ll be a lot of weirdness and little monster machines, but we don¡¯t have to fight the krarig itself.¡± Ursula grins devilishly and flicks her tablet with one finger. ¡°Unless we¡¯re lucky. If we wait any longer than this, the Preservation will recognize the krarig as dangerous and send people out to destroy it. So; cold feet or hot drop?¡±

    I stare down at the tablet with my eyebrows knit together. This should be an easy choice; there¡¯s literally no reason to put myself in danger. Ursula should easily be able to do this on her own, so it¡¯s not like me not going means it doesn¡¯t get done. But I can¡¯t bring myself to say it. I want to do this. I don¡¯t feel like I have to, or even that I need to. There¡¯s just a small voice in the back of my head telling me that this¡¯ll be really fun and fulfilling.

    And it isn¡¯t Pearl¡¯s. She¡¯s been quiet for a while now, and¨C

    ¡°You should definitely do it.¡± Pearl says. ¡°This sounds like it could be super fun, and I want to see what a human model looks like. Ooh, I want to see what a human festival looks like, too! And whatever a krarig is! From a¡­ safe distance, of course. But I want to see the other two up close. Can we? Can we please?¡±

    Well, guess that¡¯s two against one. Now I have to go.

    I smile confidently, bearing my teeth as I hand the tablet back to Ursula. ¡°When do we leave?¡±

    ¡°Two hours.¡± Ursula throws her tablet into her briefcase, then snaps it shut with a grin. ¡°Better pack a bag. This will take all week.¡±

 Chapter 60: Offshore

    The wall to the bunker groans as it splits open to let light filter in. Ursula twirls a ring that jingles with dozens of keys around one finger as she looks around the empty place, her eyes stopping on random places as if there were things there.

    I nod at her empty back and step into the bunker with her. ¡°Don¡¯t you need a bag?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°I¡¯ve got everything I need, don¡¯t you worry. So, Shelby, what would you rather? Tiny plane or big helicopter?¡±

    ¡°Teleporter. But if that¡¯s not happening, then whichever one¡¯s faster.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re both equally fast. Pick whichever one you prefer.¡± Ursula says as she gestures at all the empty space in front of us. ¡°There¡¯s more space in the helicopter, but it¡¯s a slightly bumpier ride. And the plane¡¯s the opposite of that; a lot smoother but pretty much no room to move around.¡±

    ¡°And they¡¯re both the exact same speed? Really?¡± I ask with mild suspicion. ¡°How¡¯s that possible?¡±

    Ursula catches her keys in her palm and grins. ¡°Magic. Make your choice or I¡¯ll make it myself.¡±

    I think for a second about whether I want space or a smooth ride. It doesn¡¯t sound like a great tradeoff either way, but if I had to choose one, I guess I¡¯d rather the extra space. At least that¡¯ll leave me room to play around with my shellraiser things on the trip down.

    ¡°Helicopter.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha.¡± Ursula grabs one single key and lets the others dangle down on the ring. ¡°One helicopter coming up. You might want to stand back. I don¡¯t remember if I put the rotors down the last time I used it.¡±

    Put the rotors¡­ down? Can you do that with a helicopter? I open my mouth to ask, but the shimmer of something teleporting in shuts me up and gets me to move back. Way back. Outside of the bunker where no helicopter blades can appear inside of my skull. A helicopter painted exactly like Ursula¡¯s car appears with a flash of golden electricity¨Cwith its rotors folded in half and pulled in tight to the vehicle.

    So apparently the rotors can go down. I¡¯m definitely not sure if that¡¯s standard, but it¡¯s there. Ursula presses something on her keyfob and the back of the helicopter starts lowering to reveal the inside. There¡¯s definitely a good bit of room in there, with seats on either side of the inner compartment facing towards each other and a good chunk of overhead storage. Ursula looks back at me and grins before bowing slightly and motioning at the helicopter.

    ¡°Take the back for privacy, or sit up front with me for a better view and a little more comfort.¡± She says as I walk past her. ¡°It¡¯s going to be a pretty long ride, and there¡¯s food in the overheads if you get hungry. Not good food, but it¡¯s definitely food.¡±

    I glance at the seats, then up at the cockpit. ¡°I¡¯ll take the back. Gives me more space to work with.¡±

    Ursula nods and walks over to one of the overhead compartments as I open one for myself and throw my stuff in. ¡°Seatbelts are on either side of you, and there¡¯s a parachute under your chair if things go horribly wrong. Oh, and you¡¯ll need these.¡± A pair of ear protecting headphones lands in the seat next to me. ¡°It¡¯s going to get loud as hell, so don¡¯t take them off no matter what happens. There¡¯s a closed-loop communicator in there so we can talk to each other. Press the button on your right ear cup to turn it on.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good.¡± I say as I set the headphones around my neck and settle into my seat. ¡°Before I start doing anything magical, will that alert the preservation?¡±

    ¡°Nope. The second that hatch back there closes, this chopper is signal-tight. There¡¯s a lot of complicated tech that goes into it, but the short version is that it takes the specific signals your magic gives off and dilutes them until they¡¯re not distinguishable from background signals.¡± She explains as she drops into the pilot¡¯s seat and pulls on her own ear protection. ¡°Headphones on, seatbelts on. We leave in thirty seconds.¡±

    The sound of flicking switches and the start of whirring rotors accompanies Ursula¡¯s warning. I pull both halves of my seatbelt across my chest and buckle them together, then pull my headphones onto my ears. The sound and motion slowly work their way through my body, stirring something deep inside of me that doesn¡¯t particularly like being stirred. Pretty sure I¡¯m not prone to motion sickness, but I guess I¡¯ll find out soon enough.

    Magic surges through the helicopter as the back hatch hisses shut, overtaking the entire thing as the door to the bunker rumbles closed, plunging us into utter darkness. I pull out my Class Card for a little light, but what it puts out is instantly eclipsed by the brightness of daylight. We must¡¯ve teleported somewhere, since all I see is a stretch of deep blue sea when I look out through the front window. But if we can teleport¡­

    I bring my fingers up to the ¡®talk¡¯ button. ¡°Why aren¡¯t we just teleporting to the rig?¡±

    Ursula reaches up to tap her own headset as her voice crackles to life. ¡°We¡¯ve got a bunch of bunkers and platforms all over the world. Teleporting to them is easy, whereas what we did with the car a few weeks ago was unbelievably expensive. Noland footed the bill for that one, but it¡¯d be damn hard to convince him to spend that much on something we could spend a few extra hours on.¡±

    Makes sense to me. I wouldn¡¯t want to spend any Worth¨Cwhich is almost impossible to get on Earth¨Con something I could spend time on instead.

    ¡°Makes sense to me. Turning off talk mode.¡±

    ¡°Just say ¡®over¡¯.¡± Ursula chuckles. ¡°It gets the message through loud and clear. Over.¡±

    I nod to myself and tap the button on the side of my headphones. The helicopter vibrates fiercely and starts to lift off the ground, and Ursula stiffens as she goes into concentration mode. Just like when she freaked out over gambling, she gets way too into almost anything she does. Which is great for things like this, where super concentration and overthinking things will keep us alive, but makes it kind of hard to play board games with her.

    Not that March doesn¡¯t love trying. But there¡¯s a reason she prefers to play with Noland¨Cor even me, if he¡¯s not available.

    ¡°Hey, Pearl, we¡¯re good.¡± I type into my screen and wait a second for her to read it. ¡°Did you manage to dig anything up from those files I got?¡±

    She raises an eyebrow and tilts her head. ¡°In the half hour it took you two to get ready? No, Shelby, I didn¡¯t find anything new in the blueprints in a few hours that I couldn''t find in days. Not for a lack of trying, that¡¯s for sure.¡±

    ¡°No, not the files. The ones March gave me as we were leaving.¡± I specify. ¡°The ones on the preservation. You know¡­ the ones I can¡¯t read?¡±

    ¡°Oh, those! Um, no, not yet. I don¡¯t really recognize a lot of the history or human-specific terms here, so I have to use a lot more context clues than I¡¯m used to.¡± She pauses, then looks down as if the files were physically in front of her. ¡°But there¡¯s a lot of interesting stuff here. Definitely more than the first page. Because I definitely wasn¡¯t looking at the blueprints again instead of the files.¡±

    I chuckle and roll my eyes. ¡°There¡¯s no time limit, so do whatever you want. But if you think you¡¯ve hit a wall with the blueprints, maybe March¡¯s files could shed some new light on things?¡±

    ¡°...Maybe.¡± Pearl admits reluctantly. ¡°But I¡¯m so close to getting the theory behind the ????? down. We don¡¯t have the materials to build it, sure, but I bet I could repurpose some of it to give you an edge.¡±

    ¡°You do you. Oh, and if you want to watch, I¡¯m going to try out my new spell effects on the devices. Since there¡¯s a chance we¡¯ll finally see some combat again.¡±

    Pearl nods excitedly and makes a motion like pushing something across a table. ¡°You don¡¯t have to justify it to me; I would¡¯ve been happy if you wasted Worth a few weeks ago. So, which one are you going to try first? The knife or the matrix?¡±

    I summon the shellbound knife to answer Pearl¡¯s question. She squeals and leans in closer as if to take a better look, but backs away with a pout when she obviously doesn¡¯t get any closer. I flick my right arm to summon a single Worth into my right palm, split it into two ghost quarters, and send one of them back into my coin holster. I¡¯ll definitely need it later, but for now, it¡¯d just get in the way.

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    One quick flip and I¡¯ve got a ghost quarter ready for spellcasting. I let my awareness drip down into it, carrying the intent of making the best coinbound projectile I can for the knife, and slide it into the coin slot as I feel it taking hold. For a second, nothing happens. Which is a good sign, since it would¡¯ve spat itself out if it still didn¡¯t work. After a few more seconds of waiting with bated breath, during which Pearl can¡¯t stop making anticipatory noises, a screen inserts itself on my vision to inform me that it worked.

    The knife itself, however, barely looks like it changed. There¡¯s only a thin line of Pearl-coloured magic running through the spine, fraying off in thin lines that branch towards the bladed edge. I press it to my arm to keep it in place and divert my attention to the explanation.

    Shellbound Knife: Coinbound Projectile activation.

    When activated with Coinbound Projectile, the weapon gains the ability to inject volatile magic from inside of the blade to anything it has cut. This magic can be triggered again to take on another shape.

    The greater the Worth used for the spell, the greater the amount of magic this weapon has to work with.

    So like putting a projectile inside of something by cutting it. I can see a lot of ways that could be useful, and not just for fighting. Scour a thin line on a piece of wood, and use the projectile detonation to cut it clean through. Make a little cut on a tree to mark a path, then activate it later to dispose of the evidence. ¡­Well, maybe that¡¯d give more away than I¡¯d like, but my point still stands. Not just a combat spell.

    ¡°Interesting. You could do a lot of damage with that.¡± Pearl notes with rapt attention. ¡°If you cut someone¡¯s arm, you could wait until they went in for another attack and completely take them by surprise. Or leave traps in the floors and walls when you¡¯re running from something like the corpsedragger.¡±

    I set my mouth into a thin line and nod in agreement. Just because it had non-combat applications, I can¡¯t escape the fact that this seems almost tailor-made for killing people. Just like Projectile itself, I guess. A focused thought purges the magic from my knife, and I send it away to make room to wield the matrix. I push shield into the other ghost quarter with a similar intent to the last one, then press it into the indent.

    Shellbound Matrix: Coinbound Shield activation.

    When activated with Coinbound Shield, the matrix monitors the wearer¡¯s vital signs and will assist with any vital biological processes without healing any damage done.

    The greater the Worth used for the spell, the greater the amount of magic this matrix has to work with.

    Okay, I guess that¡¯s why it doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s doing anything. I don¡¯t fully get what it means by assisting with biological processes, but maybe it¡¯s something like replacing one of my lungs if I puncture it? Or¡­ filtering my blood if someone casts a spell of ¡®destroy kidneys¡¯ on me. Neither of those sound like desirable situations to be in, and if the matrix won¡¯t actually heal any damage done¡­ shit, I need to get a lot more health potions.

    Pearl doesn¡¯t really have anything to say, either. She reads the text, and I know she did, but she doesn¡¯t say anything at all. A slightly disturbed and worried look crosses her face, and I¡¯ve got a feeling she¡¯s imagining what uses this spell could have. Hopefully I won¡¯t ever have to use this one, but I know better than to delude myself. My poor right arm is living proof.

    With a sigh and a shake of my head I purge the magic from the matrix. Then I split one more Worth into ghost quarters and fill one of them with relocation. I¡¯ve got a feeling I need more Soul to be able to use this one, but there¡¯s always a chance this is a low requirement spell. I press it into the middle of the matrix, wait a few seconds, then reach out and pluck it from the center before it can be spat across the helicopter.

    No dice. The system doesn¡¯t give me a popup right away, since I¡¯m guessing it didn¡¯t fully register the spell, but my awareness somehow knew the spell wasn¡¯t taking. I swipe over to my spells tab and scroll down to relocation, which now has two more requirements under it that weren¡¯t there before.

    Shellbound Knife: 13 Soul.

    Shellbound Matrix: 28 Soul.

    One a few points away, and the other almost triple what I¡¯ve currently got. I have to assume that a higher Soul requirement means a stronger effect, but from what I¡¯ve seen my projectiles and shields do, that doesn¡¯t always seem to be true. Maybe I could tunnel vision Soul from now on and just keep bumping up the power of my shellraiser stuff, but that would mean I put all my other stats on the backburner. And that¡¯s just not financially sound with how the system works.

    I lean back and send all the extras away. There¡¯s a lot of hours ahead of us, and I¡¯ve got a whole lot of thinking to do.

    <hr>

    ¡°Gettin¡¯ close. If we don¡¯t get her message within five minutes, we¡¯re turning around and going home. Got that, Gambler?¡±

    Ursula¡¯s voice cuts through the loud whir rotors straight into my ears. She looks at me out of the corner of my eye for my response. I give her a thumbs-up as I put my Class Card into my pocket and turn my attention to the front window. Still looks like an endless ocean to me, but who¡¯s to say the rig isn¡¯t invisible?

    My awareness flares, and I stretch my arm to catch something that¡¯s screaming away from the cockpit. It smacks into my palm like a brick with a crack just loud enough to pierce the roar of the helicopter. I hiss in discomfort and pull the tablet back, then tap on it a few times to make sure it¡¯s on.

    ¡°Good! Let¡¯s hope this doesn¡¯t turn into something horrible.¡± She says chipperly and presses a button on the side of her flight stick. The burst of speed jostles me to the right, and it¡¯s a struggle to hold her tablet away from my chest. ¡°Fifteen minutes from the target, and thirty seconds to the communication radius. ¡­Ten. Five. Aaand¡­ we¡¯re in. Keep yourself sharp, over.¡±

    ¡°Keep yourself sharp. What does that even mean?¡± I chuckle to myself and stiffen my elbows to keep the tablet at arms¡¯ length. ¡°Hope this isn¡¯t some overcomplicated trap. I don¡¯t think I could take another ten-hour helicopter ride without at least a day or two to recover. Over.¡±

    A laugh rips itself out of Ursula¡¯s throat, but before she can say anything else, her tablet starts to beep. She sits up straighter than before, then taps a button on her headphones that mine doesn¡¯t have. A tiny blue light blinks on in the upper right corner of the tablet, informing me that a pair of headphones has just linked itself to the tablet. I take a deep breath, put on my best negotiator¡¯s smile, and swipe to accept the incoming call.

    A strange black-ish light joins Ursula¡¯s blue. Then a tiny video camera icon. Staticky noise fills my ears for a few seconds as a grey screen slowly bleeds away into¡­ nothing. The video feed clicks off, and the static transforms into the sound of a frustrated woman¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Of course the video isn¡¯t working. Why would it be working? It¡¯s not like I pay¡­ oh, the voice is working? It¡¯s something, I guess.¡± She sighs, then clears her throat. ¡°Can you hear me? Is the line clear?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and yes.¡± I say confidently. ¡°We can hear you loud and clear. So, what are we looking for?¡±

    ¡°Straight to the point. I like that. But first; introductions. I¡¯m the woman that¡¯s hiring you. You¡¯ll find specifics on the oil rig if you want to know more about me, but that¡¯s all I¡¯m comfortable saying over wireless. Who are you?¡±

    I glance over at Ursula, and somehow, she¡¯s already giving me the thumbs-up. ¡°You¡¯ve got Mercenary and Gambler. If you don¡¯t know what that means, you haven¡¯t done enough research.¡±

    The woman takes a breath, then yells at someone to ¡®find out what that means¡¯. So she isn¡¯t perfectly well connected, yet she somehow has the ability to store coins on an abandoned oil rig. That¡¯s worrying.

    ¡°I¡¯ll know who you are before we meet.¡± She says confidently. ¡°You¡¯re looking for two coins; defender and psychic. One of them is for a close friend of mine, and I¡¯ll be taking the other. Will the two of you be escorting me to the event, or is that someone else¡¯s specialty?¡±

    ¡°Woah, whoa. Two coins? Your request said you were looking for one. How many do you have squirreled away on this thing?¡±

    ¡°More than you¡¯ve ever seen in one place, but not more than you can imagine.¡± She says cryptically. ¡°There¡¯s directions and instructions along with the specifics I just mentioned in an obvious raised building on the rig. I¡¯ll up your pay for each coin you bring back beyond defender and psychic, but you have to bring those two back.¡±

    I nod to myself as Ursula snaps her fingers to get my attention. She makes a motion like unbuckling my seatbelt, then gestures for me to join her up front. There¡¯s no reason not to do exactly that, so I brace myself as best as I can and push myself out of my chair.

    ¡°We¡¯ll do everything we can. But apocalypse-touched things aren¡¯t exactly predictable.¡± I half-grunt as I make my way to the cockpit, then collapse into the co-pilot¡¯s seat. ¡°Either we¡¯re coming out of there with every single coin you¡¯ve got in that vault of yours, or we¡¯re leaving empty handed.¡±

    ¡°No, no, you are not leaving empty-handed.¡± The woman states forcefully. ¡°You are bringing me those coins. I will not lose this chance because you deemed it too dangerous.¡±

    ¡°I never said it was too dangerous. I said it¡¯s all or nothing; either the oil rig turns before we can find the coins, or it turns after. If you wanted it to end any other way, you shouldn¡¯t have waited until there were only single-digit days left in this thing¡¯s lifespan.¡±

    I tilt my head at Ursula, who vigorously points at a little speck off in the distance. Narrowing my eyes does next to nothing to bring it into focus, but I don¡¯t need to see the thing to know what it is.

    The woman swallows hard. ¡°Either you bring me those coins or you hope to god that you die when the rig turns.¡±

    ¡°Aw, love you too.¡± I say sarcastically. ¡°Oh, just a quick little reminder; we¡¯re the ones who¡¯re going to protect you at that event. You might not want to piss us off.¡±

    ¡°You¨C¡± The woman starts, but I swipe off the call before she can say anything and hand the tablet back to Ursula. She raises an eyebrow at me, but nods in appreciation.

    ¡°Handled that damn well for your first asshole client. Even if the woman sounded like she was going through a whole lot behind the scenes.¡±

    I lean against the window and sigh. ¡°Nobody does something like this without at least a little desperation. Why else would she wait until now?¡±

    ¡°Maybe she¡¯s a dumbass. Or maybe the platform waking up is how we access those coins.¡± Ursula says with a shrug. ¡°Either way, we¡¯re going to find out in a few short minutes. Buckle up and get ready for magical interference.¡±

 Chapter 61: Apocalypse-Touched

    The strange invisible magical storm surrounding the oil rig barely nudges our helicopter as we begin our descent. The equipment, though, is a completely different story. Lights go off like fireworks as alarms blare repeatedly for every single problem that¡¯s possible to happen to a helicopter. Ursula calmly sets them off one by one, ignoring the onslaught of sensations that have me more than a little on edge.

    I tap my headset and pull my seatbelt even tighter. ¡°Why can¡¯t I make out the platform? We¡¯re less than a mile away.¡±

    ¡°Censorship. Not as bad as on the other world, but it can spread here when the apocalypse does its thing.¡± Ursula explains as she fights with the helicopter¡¯s systems. ¡°Once the krarig fully forms it¡¯ll go away, but we obviously don¡¯t have the pleasure of waiting for that to happen.¡±

    ¡°So what? We make a blind landing on it?¡± I glance down at the massive mass of blurry metal that is apparently an abandoned oil rig. ¡°Do you even know where the helipad is?¡±

    ¡°Who do you think I am? Of course I do.¡± Ursula scoffs and angles the helicopter into a descent. ¡°We¡¯re coming in from the southeast, so the helipad will be around the blur and on the other side. As long as the apocalypse hasn¡¯t twisted it too far yet.¡±

    I stare incredulously at her and grip my seatbelt even harder. ¡°Yeah, because the system racing through worlds to censor this shit is definitely not a bad sign. Do you have a plan B?¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡±

    Shit.

    The magical disruption washes over the helicopter like a sheet of thundering rain, crashing all at once against everything around us. I instinctively ready a few shields to protect us if the metal fails, but the constant crash of something against the helicopter doesn¡¯t seem to be getting any worse. Or any better. Though I doubt it¡¯d get better while we¡¯re flying directly into the eye of the magic.

    Ursula reaches up and flips a switch on the ceiling. The helicopter whirrs and groans under some newfound stress, but the assault of magic dulls to a low ringing impact. Like pleasant rain on a tin roof. I raise an eyebrow at Ursula in question, but her gaze doesn''t stray from the front window. Whatever she¡¯s seeing right now is taking all her concentration. And I¡¯m not going to be the one to break it.

    Mechanical shrieking courses through my bones as something happens. The helicopter slams to a stop, rotors chopping through still air as a thick coating of magic blurs the window to a dull white. Ursula breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes into her seat, then turns to offer me a smile.

    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell.¡± I say with a mixture of sarcasm and seriousness. ¡°Correct me if I¡¯m wrong, but this magical storm isn¡¯t just going to disappear when we leave the helicopter, right?¡±

    She nods in confirmation.

    ¡°Well, then what the hell are we supposed to do? I¡¯m not running out there blind as a bat when there could be apocalypse-touched heavy machinery waiting with rusted teeth and shattered claws.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to.¡± She grins and summons her briefcase while popping the latches. It clicks open to reveal two sets of¡­ something. They look like clear oxygen masks you¡¯d find on a plane, but much sturdier-looking and rimmed with gooey golden material. ¡°Here. Put this over your mouth and nose and press until it sticks.¡±

    The mask calls tantalizingly to me from the briefcase. A little more than just something that¡¯ll help me live, but I can¡¯t really tell why. I reach down and grab it as Ursula takes her own, then she snaps the briefcase shut as she presses hers to her face with one hand. It conforms over her nose and mouth just like a normal oxygen mask, but once the golden stuff sticks in place, it shrinks down to a small clear film.

    ¡°Why¡¯d it do that?¡± I ask as I press mine to my face. The gold is cool to the touch, and I can feel it sticking to my skin like cement. Moments later it vacuum seals over my face, leaving me more than enough wiggle room to move everything normally.

    Ursula shrugs. ¡°Hell if I know. Maybe it¡¯s supposed to go inside of a helmet and this is how they get it to fit. Breathe normally for a few minutes and it¡¯ll get you used to the magic in the air around here. Then we¡¯ll set out to find those notes the client alluded to.¡±

    ¡°Alright. But¡­ man. This is way worse than I imagined.¡± I say with a gesture at the whited out window. ¡°And we¡¯ve got a magically armored helicopter to make our way in. How would anyone else ever get through the storm?¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t. Not unless they¡¯ve got a huge private backing, or they¡¯re powerful enough to get through on their own. That rules out most people who¡¯ve got a class, and leaves only the preservation or a few powerful individuals.¡± She pauses, then shakes her head with a sigh. ¡°Don¡¯t think too hard about it. Earth¡¯s pretty damn safe all things considered; it¡¯s the non-starter places on the other world you have to worry about.¡±

    Non-starter? Does that mean places far away from Palastia, or just places that are harder to get to? The system gives out clearance levels, so we have to use that clearance for something. Why not the places we¡¯re allowed to go?

    I blink a few times. The white shivers, but doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s disappearing just yet. ¡°So how does clearance work? Does the system just lock us out of going places it deems too dangerous, or is it more complicated than that?¡±

    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s pretty close to what you said. If you don¡¯t have the clearance for something, you can¡¯t use your system while you¡¯re in that place. And the system won¡¯t recognize your ownership of anything you get in that place, so you effectively get nothing out of going out of your clearance. ¡®Course sometimes you have to make a quick detour through dangerous lands, but it won¡¯t give you anything for your troubles.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Good to know.¡± I cross my arms and glance up at the ceiling. ¡°Is there anywhere I can see what clearance places are?¡±

    Ursula pulls out her Class Card and holds it between two fingers. ¡°System upgrade. Normally it¡¯d just be a map upgrade, but we need both the map upgrade and the map upgrade upgrade due to our unique properties.¡±

    ¡°You mean the system¡¯s hate-on.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That.¡± She confirms with a little laugh. ¡°Alright, take one more deep breath. Your body should be accustomed enough for us to start moving.¡±

    The patchy white coating the windows says otherwise. I stand up with a shrug and pull out a coin, then split it into two ghost quarters. Relocation goes into both of them, and I mark myself as the target for the first while holding out the other to Ursula. She stares at it for a few seconds, but takes it without hesitation and mirrors my palming the coin.

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    ¡°What¡¯s this supposed to do?¡± She asks, then twitches as I target her with relocation. ¡°A spell? What¡¯d it do to me?¡±

    ¡°Nothing yet.¡± I say as I motion for her to hand back the coin. ¡°These are our lifelines, so hopefully we won¡¯t ever need to use them.¡±

    Ursula nods in understanding as I set a coin down on my chair, then turn and set the other down on hers when she stands up. I close my eyes and focus on the connection my awareness has to these two coins, cementing the particular threads as panic buttons. Once I get them solidified in my subconscious, which is confirmed with a nod and a thumbs-up from Pearl, I stretch my back with a groan and join Ursula right next to the back hatch.

    She smacks the butt of her fist against the wall and the hatch hisses open. ¡°Can you say what spell¡¯s going to save our lives? Or is that some system secret that¡¯ll give me a censorship headache?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think it is. It¡¯s just not all that impressive.¡± I say with a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s called ¡®relocation¡¯. Coinbound relocation if I¡¯m being more accurate. It lets me swap the places of a coin and anything I designate as that coin¡¯s target.¡±

    ¡°Huh. That¡¯s pretty damn useful.¡±

    ¡°Very.¡± I chuckle in agreement. ¡°If I get your permission for it I barely have to use any Worth, too. Contact me through the messenger if you¡¯re in enough danger that I have to bring you back here.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll hear my screaming from the other side of the world if I¡¯m in that kind of danger.¡± Ursula laughs as the hatch slams onto a metal platform. For about three inches. After that, it¡¯s one long drop down to the choppy waters below. ¡°Wow. Talk about cutting it close. Watch your step; it¡¯s definitely going to be slippery with all this unnatural mist.¡±

    I roll my eyes and follow Ursula around the helicopter. Still can¡¯t make out much of anything through the magic mist, but now that I¡¯ve got feet on solid-ish ground, I can feel so much more. Almost like my awareness is seeping into the metal and spreading for a good chunk of distance. Except¡­ it doesn¡¯t feel right. Not that I¡¯ve been on many oil rigs to know what¡¯s actually right.

    Ursula reaches out a hand and spreads her fingers wide. Somehow, I can see her perfectly fine through the mist, but even the helicopter¡¯s shrouded in white. She hums in thought for a second, then looks over her shoulder and nods when she sees me.

    ¡°Looks like the platform doesn¡¯t see us as a part of it. But the helicopter isn¡¯t so immune. If this thing fully becomes a krarig while we¡¯re on it¨Ceven if it¡¯s just on the surface like this¨Cit¡¯ll take the helicopter with it.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and step up next to Ursula. ¡°I thought you said it was magically protected against this kind of stuff.¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah, but not this level of this kind of stuff.¡± Ursula chuckles and taps the nose of the helicopter with her fingertips. ¡°So long as we¡¯re out of the mist before the krarig gets taken we¡¯ll be fine. Anything else and we¡¯re going to have way bigger problems than a missing helicopter.¡±

    My throat tightens as I swallow hard. She makes a damn good point¨Cbeing this close to a krarig is certain death. Nevermind at the moment of its birth. I walk towards where my awareness tells me there¡¯s something small-ish while ignoring the yawning void that¡¯s off in the other direction. That feels like what I¡¯d imagine a portal to another world would feel like, which means that¡¯s probably where the coins are going to be.

    ¡°You know where to go?¡±

    I look to my right as Ursula hurries to match my pace. ¡°Somehow, yeah.¡±

    Without saying anything more, I beeline for whatever my awareness has latched onto. Ursula shrugs and follows without asking anything else, looking down at her briefcase every now and again as if waiting for something to pop out of it. I reach up to adjust my oxygen mask with two fingers as even more of the cloaking mist dissolves like holes in a raggedy sheet, revealing more and more of the rig that I kind of wish had stayed disguised.

    Twisting spires of rusted and salt-coated metal reach for the sky. Huge chunks of the rig jut out in the completely wrong direction, making everything around it a minefield of holes and jagged edges. I look back at the helipad, which has mostly eluded destruction, but even that¡¯s starting to bulge upwards like something¡¯s trying to burst through from underneath it. And that¡¯s just what I can make out with what little I can see¨Cthe whole picture must be so much worse.

    Awareness crawls up a spire a few steps away. Jagged thorns jut out like some massive plant, but they wriggle like parasites when I get too close. I reach out and pull Ursula out of the way of a hole, sidle just barely out of the range of the wriggling worms of sharp metal, and gesture at an incline off to the side.

    ¡°Stairs.¡± I say with a frown as my awareness scans the ¡®stairs¡¯. ¡°Ah, shit.¡±

    Ursula stops on a dime and stares straight ahead into the white. ¡°More holes?¡±

    I sigh and shake my head. ¡°That would¡¯ve been way easier. No, the apocalypse decided to give us every northern country¡¯s nightmare; a slippery, untextured metal slope.¡±

    ¡°The apocalypse turned stairs¡­ into a slope.¡± Ursula states in disbelief. ¡°It punched massive holes in the floor, made freakish tentacle-spires with parasitic thorns, and turned stairs into a slope.¡±

    ¡°Yup.¡± I confirm and lean down to test the metal. Slick as ice. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get climbing.¡±

    Ursula taps her briefcase on the ground, then reaches into it and pulls out a simple retractable ladder. She motions for me to get out of the way, pulls all the rungs free with one flick, and sets it against the slope. While holding the very bottom she nods up towards the building.

    ¡°Get up there, then take hold of the top so I can get up too.¡±

    Alright, that makes things a whole lot easier. I step onto the first rung and bend down so my hands touch one further up, then cautiously take a single step up the ladder. It doesn¡¯t budge one single inch¨Clike it¡¯d been set in concrete, not held by one woman¡¯s hands. She grins at the look of disbelief I give her, as if that was the highest compliment she could get. I roll my eyes and go right back to climbing.

    <hr>

    Big surprise¨CI¡¯m not as strong as Ursula. A climb that took me five minutes takes her a hellish thirty-two through no fault of her own, but out of a simple requirement for her not to fall and die. My arms scream at me for rest after minute three, and by the time she scrambles onto the raised platform, my muscles feel like dying worms. I¡¯m pretty sure Pearl and Illumisia¡¯s improvements to my body are the only reason I didn¡¯t drop the ladder at any point.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± I manage to say between deep gasps that feel like razors in my throat. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it would be this far.¡±

    She offers me an unflinching smile and dusts off her pants. ¡°Not your fault the apocalypse is a dick. Good thing the ladder decided to grow a few dozen more rungs when we needed them. But hey, all that delay gave the masks time to actually work.¡±

    I follow her with my eyes as she lets the ladder fall and spins around to sit on the edge of the platform. She gazes out over the rig, and after wondering how her ladder grew larger, I fold my screaming hands in my lap and join her in a moment of rest. Ninety-nine percent of the mist has dissipated, revealing a horrendous amalgam of metal and magic that looks like it could get up and start walking any time now.

    Well, not walking. More like swimming. Unless it manages to get to land like the last one did.

    ¡°Look at all that magic.¡± Ursula sighs longingly. ¡°More than anything any human can do so far, and it¡¯s utterly wasted on trying to kill us. On another completely different note; does your instinct that found this slope tell us what¡¯s going on in the belly of this beast?¡±

    ¡°Not¡­ quite.¡± I say slowly. ¡°It feels like it¡¯s way bigger than it should be, but beyond that, I¡¯ve got nothing. For all I know it could be run through with more of these tentacle things, or it could even be a portal back to the other world.¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°I can guarantee you that it isn¡¯t a portal. There¡¯s exactly one way back, and it happens exactly when the system tells you it¡¯s time. Bigger on the inside, though¡­ that¡¯s almost a guarantee. We¡¯ll have to play it extremely safe when we start venturing in.¡±

    She grunts her last word as she gets to her feet and motions at the series of shipping crates welded together to form¡­ something. Maybe an office? Or an overseer¡¯s point? Whatever it is, it definitely looks like an aftermarket addition to the rig. The windows are all salted up, the door is barricaded from the outside, and there are more than a few humongous dents in the metal walls.

    ¡°Blasting our way in?¡± I ask as Ursula reaches into her briefcase once more.

    ¡°Not this time.¡± She says with a smile as she pulls out something that looks like a combination flamethrower and acetylene torch. ¡°Can¡¯t risk damaging the goods.¡±

 Chapter 62: Basemaking

    Piercing flames shear through the metal obstructing the door like warm butter. It takes Ursula all of four minutes to clear away all the metal, which may or may not have been apocalypse-made, then tosses the flamethrower-torch off the platform. With a few flicks of her finger, she nods to herself and rears back to charge the door.

    Magic condenses around her shoulder as she crashes into the door, forcing it open with a rusty squeak and a rush of stale air mixed with the smell of propellant. She stumbles into a desk and catches herself before she can fully fall over, turning back to me and sitting down on it as if she meant to do everything.

    ¡°That was damn close.¡± She laughs and rolls her shoulder. ¡°Almost face-planted into potentially important information. Judging from the smell of this place, nobody¡¯s been in here for a long time¨Cwhich raises the question of how our client got information in here specifically for us.¡±

    I nod in agreement and look around the room. It¡¯s mostly filing cabinets and desks, but there are a few old CRT tvs and a bunch of computer monitors hooked up to a power grid that definitely didn¡¯t survive the changes so far. No one file or cabinet calls out to me at first, but maybe that¡¯s just a ¡®me¡¯ problem. So I pull out my Class Card to get another opinion.

    ¡°Does anything in here feel significant to you?¡± I type as I lean down and pretend to look through the bottom drawer of a random cabinet.

    Pearl hums in thought, then crosses her arms while looking upwards. ¡°I can feel something in here, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the information you¡¯re looking for. Honestly, I don''t even know what it is I¡¯m feeling. It¡¯s close to those big thick screens; you should have Ursula check it out.¡±

    ¡°Good call. Keep an eye out, and if you see anything that might be useful, hit me up.¡± I finish typing, then send my Class Card away and turn to Ursula. ¡°There¡¯s something near the CRTs. I can¡¯t make out if it''s dangerous or not, so be careful around them.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha.¡± Ursula gives me a thumbs-up and beelines for the CRTs. She stops less than a foot from them and runs her fingers down a dusty screen. ¡°Huh. This isn¡¯t dust.¡±

    I glance up from the cabinet, which I started seriously looking through at some point. ¡°What is it, then?¡±

    ¡°Some kind of powdered¡­ something.¡± She frowns and brings her fingers close to her mouth. I don¡¯t see what happens next, but the sound of tongue on skin viscerally disgusts me. ¡°Salt? How¡¯s there salt on the screens, but nowhere else in the room? ¡­Gambler?¡±

    She turns around with a raised eyebrow, then busts out laughing when she sees my expression. I guess I must have something pretty damn entertaining etched onto my face, since she doesn¡¯t even react to the spark of light that flickers from the CRT screen to the center of the room. Salt seeps in from the open door like a slowly rising tide, all making their way to the chunk of light to condense into a form around it.

    I wave a hand to get Ursula¡¯s attention and steel my expression. ¡°Ur¡­Mercenary. Something¡¯s happening. Pull yourself together.¡±

    ¡°I can see, I can see.¡± She waves me off with one hand while wiping her eyes with the other. ¡°Damn, I needed a good laugh.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ know what¡¯s happening here?¡± I say in disbelief. ¡°Did you study the hell out of the Greenland krarig when I wasn¡¯t looking?¡±

    ¡°No. Well, yes, but no.¡± She shrugs and confidently walks up to the growing magical salt crystal. ¡°I did study the hell out of the other krarig, but there wasn¡¯t anything like this reported for it. What we¡¯ve got here is a salt elemental trying to form itself, but since we don¡¯t have the same magical atmosphere as the other world, it¡¯ll die out the second the krarig stops making this magical mist.¡±

    She sighs and pats the chunk fondly. ¡°Poor thing. So desperate to be born, and it doesn¡¯t even realize that it¡¯s going to be dead in less than a week. But hey, at least this gives us some insight into what we¡¯ll be finding as we go deeper into this bitch. Now c¡¯mon¨Chelp me make this door airtight so we don¡¯t have to fight in our info space.¡±

    I shake my head and stand up straight, then join Ursula in walking back to the door. She gestures for me to hold it shut, which is easier said than done thanks to the winds, but my enhanced body manages it just fine. Instead of reaching for her briefcase for some kind of sealant, she just stands on her tiptoes and runs a finger along the not-quite-perfect seam between the door and the frame. Thick magic flows from her fingertip like industrial sealant, and after a quick trace around the entire frame, we¡¯re sealed in tight.

    Well, the edges are. There¡¯s still the huge hole she carved into it, which she fills with expanding foam that hardens in the blink of an eye.

    Ursula dusts her hands off and looks back at the elemental core, which now floats uselessly in the center of the room without any more salt to suck up. ¡°Done, done, and done. Unfortunately that made this place airtight, so we¡¯re gonna have to make this quick-ish. I¡¯ll set up Architect¡¯s equipment; you keep looking for the stuff our client alluded to. It can¡¯t be that hard to find if she wants us to find it.¡±

    ¡°...Yeah.¡± I say slowly as I scan the room full of documents. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ do that.¡±

    <hr>

    Files bleed into files. Words bleed into words. Even with Pearl¡¯s help, scanning this place for one specific file is like trying to find a certain piece of hay in a haystack. Obviously I checked all the desks first¨Csince they¡¯re where someone would put something they wanted us to find¨Cbut nope. Just personal reports and day to day statistics about running an oil rig.

    I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose as I look away from yet another earnings report. ¡°Mercenary, you almost done setting the stuff up? I¡¯m starting to go cross-eyed here.¡±

    ¡°Almost done!¡± Ursula calls from amidst the old computers. ¡°Just gotta get this little generator cranking, then we¡¯ll be in business.¡±

    Generator? I glance over my shoulder to see what she¡¯s talking about, only to come face-to-face with the salt elemental core. With a grunt I push it aside to try and see what Ursula¡¯s doing, but if the things she¡¯s installing are any bigger than an old computer tower, I sure as hell can¡¯t see them.

    I shake my head and slide the filing cabinet closed. There¡¯s no point randomly sifting through all these files if we¡¯re on a time limit. ¡°Question; if we can¡¯t find those files, how screwed are we?¡±

    Ursula¡¯s head pops up over the blockade of electronics. ¡°Not much at all. I¡¯ll be able to get a map to what we¡¯re looking for, and Architect will get the specifics on our client while we¡¯re working here. Why? You think they¡¯re gonna be impossible to find?¡±

    ¡°Not technically impossible.¡± I say as I walk over to get a better look at what she¡¯s doing. Which looks like she¡¯s sticking a bunch of differently coloured squares to the computers while fiddling with a battery pack. ¡°Please tell me this is some magic bullshit that¡¯ll actually help us.¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°It¡¯s some magic bullshit that¡¯ll actually help us.¡± She says without missing a beat. ¡°They¡¯re all devices Banker commissioned from someone who lives in the resort that lets Architect use her buildings¡¯ effects remotely. Once I get the field properly set up, it¡¯ll be like she made this room.¡±

    I tilt my head to the side. ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll be able to use it like the room she¡¯s sitting in right now. Back at the resort.¡± Ursula grunts as she twists a dial on the battery pack with gusto. ¡°Which is a hyper-advanced surveillance suite that¡¯ll let her read this place like an open book, while also feeding that info to us without any magical interference.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    Ursula rolls her eyes and pushes the dial into the battery pack. ¡°That¡¯s underselling it by a factor of about a thousand. If you still need specifics, she¡¯ll be able to monitor the water and air around us for about five hundred miles. Perfectly and undetected since the origin point is in this magical mist. She¡¯ll also be able to guide us through the innards of this beast with pinpoint accuracy. And she¡¯ll have access to whatever was on this database, which she¡¯ll skim through when we¡¯re not spelunking the rig.¡±

    ¡°I get it.¡± I say as I hold up my hands in defeat. ¡°That was an ¡®ah¡¯ of understanding, not a sarcastic one. But I get how they¡¯d sound the same.¡±

    She stands with a snort and brushes off her knees. ¡°Banker¡¯s the master of sarcastic ¡®ah¡¯s. Just like he¡¯s the master of pretending to understand something so the conversation can move on. Makes it really annoying when you¡¯re six levels deep into an explanation and he¡¯s stuck on level three. Or god forbid, level one. Here.¡±

    A pair of earpieces like you¡¯d see in a spy movie are thrust directly at my chest. I take them and wiggle them into place, where they sort of melt into my ears like the mask did to my face. Ursula nods at me and puts in a pair of her own, then opens her hand to reveal a small sphere of crackling blue magic.

    ¡°Once I connect this, we¡¯ll be connected to Architect. She¡¯ll hear everything we say, which is a little flaw in the system, but necessary so she can alert us to random danger around us. So¡­ try not to be too loud or hiss a bunch when you talk. It really bothers her.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll only yell when it¡¯s blatantly appropriate.¡± I say seriously. ¡°Anything else I should worry about?¡±

    Ursula purses her lips in thought. ¡°She¡¯ll see us as blips on a screen. Even if she¡¯s got an up to date map, there¡¯ll be things we can see that she can¡¯t, and vice-versa. Respect that, and know that she¡¯s got our best interests in mind. Even if she might get openly frustrated with us, try not to do the same. And¡­ well, if I can think of anything else, I¡¯ll tell you when it comes to me. Line¡¯s connecting in three¡­ two¡­ one.¡±

    Magic arcs from Ursula¡¯s hand to each of the devices she set up. They crackle and whir like a bowl of rice cereal placed on top of an overworked hard drive as the magic does its work, searing random letters and numbers into the previously flat surfaces. Once they¡¯ve all been filled with writing the magic jumps from the devices into the battery pack, sending the dial Ursula cranked spinning like a turbine engine. Noise shrieks to life in both of my ears for a split second, and Pearl winces in discomfort at the intrusion.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of magic.¡± She murmurs to herself as she rubs one arm. ¡°It almost reminds me of the communication corps from¡­ a while ago¡­¡± She trails off somberly, then puts on a melancholy smile. ¡°Maybe March will show me how she did it when you know it¡¯s safe enough to show me to other people.¡±

    Maybe, Pearl. I have a feeling March would love to have someone to gush to about her interests, but another feeling tells me it¡¯d have to be the right time. Pearl nods to herself as if she¡¯d made up her mind about something, then takes a seat in something and settles in for what¡¯s probably going to be a very long haul.

    ¡°Hello? Can you two hear me?¡± March¡¯s voice comes clearly through the earpieces at the same time. ¡°Is there any interference?¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°None I can hear. Gambler?¡±

    ¡°None here, either. We hear you loud and clear, Architect.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good. Mercenary, do I have to look for client files first?¡±

    ¡°Client files and anything that could give us a hint on what we¡¯re going to find in this thing¡¯s bowels.¡± Ursula says as she steps out of the computer bank. ¡°We¡¯ve got a few hours before we have to get moving, but I¡¯d like to get a scouting run done before we call it a night. How long do you think you need?¡±

    March hums in thought, and I can hear her drumming her hands on her knees. ¡°I have full administrative access, so it depends on how they labeled everything. And if the client left information on the server at all. It¡¯ll be thirty minutes before I can give you a confident answer.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s just fine by us. If you need any code words or time stamps, check for anything on coins and stuff specifically added after this place got abandoned. If even that comes up with nothing, we¡¯ll just have to do it live.¡±

    ¡°I hate doing it live.¡± March mutters to the sound of a mechanical keyboard clacking. ¡°We do it live way too often. Sometimes even when we don¡¯t have to do it live. Do you promise me you¡¯re going to let me scour the system before you do it live?¡±

    ¡°We promise.¡± I cut in before Ursula can say anything. Because it looked like she was going to say no. ¡°If you can¡¯t find anything specific, can you use whatever tracker you¡¯ve got on us and look at this room for anything out of place?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I already did that. Aside from the monster you¡¯re both ignoring, there¡¯s a few signs of magical intrusion. One¡¯s on the far left from the door, and the other¡¯s in something that looks like a bunch of old TVs.¡±

    Ursula and I both snap to the TVs, then share a look that¡¯s both self deprecating and apologetic. That¡¯s where the damn elemental came from, and neither of us had the wherewithal to take a closer look. She summons a hand-length knife that looks like it¡¯d be at home under a soldier¡¯s gun, then points at the left side of the room with it in a silent suggestion. Before I can say anything she¡¯s on the TVs like a repairman with a grudge. But quieter.

    ¡°Oh, something¡¯s happening. I hear a bunch of smashing?¡± March pauses, then laughs. ¡°Nevermind, I think I can imagine what¡¯s happening. Gambler¡­ are you alright?¡±

    I frown and look over my shoulder. The salt elemental is still hovering uselessly between two desks. ¡°Yeah? Why?¡±

    March hums nervously. ¡°It kind of looks like there¡¯s another person right on top of you.¡±

    What¡¯s she¡­

    Pearl.

    Somehow, these machines Ursula set up can sense Pearl where nothing else could. I keep the shock off my face and bend down to try to find whatever March alluded to on the left, but internally, I¡¯m shitting bricks. This is not how I wanted this to be revealed. The consequences could be¡­ unimaginable. I need a cover story.

    ¡°Weird. Maybe it¡¯s¡­ because¡­ I¡¯ve got another Class Coin on me.¡± I nod to myself and pull open the bottom drawer on a filing cabinet like any other. ¡°Could that be causing it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never seen this happen before. Maybe I should take a look at this stuff after we¡¯re done. It¡¯s never bugged out before, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s completely immune to it.¡± March murmurs to herself along with the heavy clacks of keystrokes. ¡°This could be a really dangerous flaw in the program. You¡¯re super duper sure there¡¯s nobody else there?¡±

    I plaster on a false smile and nod. ¡°Just me, Mercenary, and the salt elemental.¡±

    With some hums and clacks, March seems to accept my excuse. Pearl¡¯s gone deathly quiet¨Ceven more so than usual. Probably because she doesn¡¯t want to risk March hearing her voice. That¡¯d kill her cover in an instant. I keep that fake smile on as I sort through the files, my fingers touching old manilla and my eyes scouring over small tags on each and every one. Most of them are nothing different from what I¡¯ve seen so far; reports, documents, and everything else that goes with running an oil rig.

    Something else catches my eye the moment I pull open the middle drawer. A splotch of bright blue plastic in a sea of manilla. Something so obvious that I¡¯d have to be completely blind to miss it. There¡¯s no label on this particular file, but if it isn¡¯t the one we¡¯re looking for, I¡¯ll eat a ghost quarter.

    I pull it out and flip it open. A familiar woman¡¯s face stares up at me from atop a pile of documents. She¡¯s wearing a fancy dress that hugs her toned frame and shaking hands with someone out of frame that¡¯s probably important, but I¡¯d recognize that face anywhere. Even if she isn¡¯t wearing a crop-top hoodie and running from a dragonjet.

    God, I hope I¡¯m not the catalyst for all this bullshit.

 Chapter 63: The Job Description

    I quickly sift through the other drawers, but none of them have off-coloured folders. The only one of which now rests snugly under my arm as I stand up and make my way to a cleared desk close to the salt elemental. It gives off a little light, making it easier to see against the setting sun.

    ¡°Got something here.¡±

    Ursula rips the screen off one of the TVs with a grunt, rummages around in the cavity, and pulls out something that glimmers brilliant white. She tilts her head to the side, turns around, and walks right up to the desk with me.

    ¡°Looks like I¡¯ve got something too.¡± She says as she places the chunk of glimmering salt next to my file. ¡°No idea what it is or what it does, but I¡¯ve got it. You got the file?¡±

    ¡°Pretty damn sure.¡± I say as I flip it open to reveal the picture and everything beneath it. ¡°This is either our client or someone important to this job, and I haven¡¯t checked out anything else yet. You want to do the honours?¡±

    She nods and reaches to spread out all the documents. ¡°Don¡¯t mind if I do. Does the picture instantly bring anyone to mind for you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but not for the reason you¡¯re thinking.¡± I sigh and cross my arms as Ursula studies the woman¡¯s picture. ¡°I¡­ well, she was in town when the dragonjet attacked. And I might¡¯ve ran into her before I killed it.¡±

    Ursula¡¯s eyebrows shoot to her forehead. ¡°No shit?¡± Damn, sister, that¡¯s crazy good luck. We might not¡¯ve had a client if you weren¡¯t there at that exact moment.¡±

    That¡¯s one way to look at it, I guess. I lean in to get a closer look at something that looks like a blueprint for some kind of vault, except there¡¯s a certain¡­ weirdness to it. Now I¡¯m no expert, but most vaults don¡¯t have magical shit woven into them like carbon into iron to make steel. And absolutely everything is purely mechanical; no electricity or power of any kind to be seen. Almost like this thing was made specifically to store magical stuff without falling to the apocalypse.

    I poke the vault¡¯s door with my fingertip. ¡°This is definitely where she¡¯s keeping the coins. But if she¡¯s got something like this, there¡¯d be no reason to keep it inside of the rig. So¡­ should we even look inside?¡±

    ¡°Oh, definitely. Nice subject change, by the way.¡± Ursula chuckles as she flips over a page of hand-written notes. ¡°Huh. This woman¡¯s way more invested in all this magic shit than I thought. Which definitely means we¡¯re not the first ones she sent here.¡±

    Ursula quickly finishes skimming through the notes and hands them to me. ¡°That¡¯s all the info on our client we¡¯re going to get. And none of it¡¯s going to be in the computer, that¡¯s for damn sure.¡±

    ¡°So should I stop looking?¡± March asks.

    ¡°Just for the client. Keep looking for everything else that¡¯ll help us navigate this hellhole.¡± Ursula replies and takes a stack of printed-out maps for herself. ¡°Actually, take to the internet and search for ¡®Gisela Garza¡¯. See if our client¡¯s got anything we should be worried about that she hasn¡¯t decided to tell us.¡±

    Gisela Garza. That name rings absolutely no bells, but that¡¯s no surprise to me. I¡¯ve always been pretty bad with names, and combined with how little free time I¡¯ve had the last few years means I haven¡¯t heard of anything that wasn¡¯t important enough to be played in a break room. She has to be at least a little important, though, or else she wouldn¡¯t have a stockpile of coins in a safe that looks custom built for that very purpose.

    I shake my head and glance down at the hand-written page between my fingers. It¡¯s stapled to another two pages, but the last one is only half-filled with words. The other half¡¯s filled with some kind of drawing that doesn¡¯t mean anything to me, but might be important later down the line. But I¡¯m getting ahead of myself. Let¡¯s see what Gisela left for us.

    ¡®Hello, whoever you are. If you¡¯ve come here on my request, I welcome you to this horrible place and apologize for the mess. If you are here without my knowledge, I hope this place claims your body and soul before you can touch something you know nothing about.¡¯

    I snort and roll my eyes. What better way to start a greeting than with an idle threat? Pearl smacks her palm against something a few times, then motions for me to turn the page. Which I¡¯m not even half done reading yet. So I guess I better read faster.

    ¡®I purchased this wreckage from the company who wished to dispose of it a few years ago. The seas around this rig are nearly bereft of value, which made it the perfect place to safely store my life¡¯s work; the coins. All preserved in a vault in the deepest reaches of the rig¡¯s innards. If I have asked you to get them, I wish you all the luck in the world in reaching those depths. If you are not¡­ well, I shall just reiterate on the third sentence of this note.¡¯

    Third sentence? I scan back up to the top, and sure enough, the third sentence is the one about the rig claiming my body and soul. Gisela¡¯s really keen on the whole ¡®with my permission¡¯ thing. I flip the page before Pearl can say anything else, gently tucking it behind the third and leaning against the desk to read further.

    ¡®Now, since you have kept reading, you are obviously interested in me. I am something of a minor celebrity, though it is for all the wrong reasons. You may look into that if you have the ability to. But what you are probably more interested in is this; I have many family members who have traveled to the other world. Many of which have come back successful, and many of which have not come back at all. We were test subjects for more ¡®influential¡¯ people. Those people are out of the picture.¡¯

    ¡°Okay, if that¡¯s not a threat, I don¡¯t know what is.¡± I chuckle to myself as Pearl puffs out her cheeks and silently chides me for being a slow reader. ¡°Mercenary, did you actually read all this?¡±

    ¡°Yup.¡± Ursula confirms. ¡°Looks like a crime family if I¡¯d have to guess, but it could just be a high society thing. You¡¯d have to ask Banker about that.¡±

    Noland? That guy was famous? I mean¡­ he does have a shitload of money. You don¡¯t get that without fame or massive success. And I kind of thought he was, like, an oil baron¡¯s kid. Old money, you know? Guess not. Well, back to reading before Pearl has an aneurism.

    ¡®Now I alone have the authority to call for coins to be removed from the vault. You will venture to the deepest reaches and take only what I have instructed you to take. If I find out that more have been taken, you will suffer the consequences¨Cthis I promise you. Now I leave you with one last musing, and one last warning; this place is not under any nation¡¯s control. Even though I own the metal and materials, I do not own the ocean underneath. If anyone sensed your arrival, I do not have the power to ward them off. You must do that under your own power. But if I saw fit to hire you, that should not be a problem.¡¯

    I roll my eyes and flip to the last page. What a diva. And she directly contradicted what¡¯s written here in our brief conversation. But as I start reading¡­ there¡¯s a difference. The handwriting is almost exactly the same, but just slightly different enough to be noticeable. And the tone almost sounds like someone trying to copy the slightly threatening and slightly demeaning notes of the first two pages. Just too defensive to be by the same person.

    ¡®The coins inside the vault are the property of our family. We have collected them through legitimate means, no matter what others say, and we have a rightful claim to them. No matter what you think, we are not monsters. Just people doing what we had to do to survive. You will need these if you want to open the vault and get out alive.¡¯

    Following the words are a series of strange drawings; a five legged snake with two tongues, a goat with three wings and six eyes, a cross made out of four old-timey keys, and a skull with an eight sided angular pattern on its forehead that almost looks like it could mean something. I stare at them for a good few seconds trying to get any meaning out of the bunch, but they¡¯re a complete mystery to me.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Ursula taps me on the shoulder, stirring me out of my own thoughts. ¡°Hey. Architect¡¯s got a map of this place pulled up, and she¡¯s synching it to the reality around us right now. What¡¯d you think of the drawings?¡±

    ¡°I have absolutely no idea.¡± I sigh and set the pages down. ¡°Did that last paragraph sound like it was written by someone else to you?¡±

    ¡°...No? Just a little more defensive than the rest of the letter. Why? You think someone else added it after the fact?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea what I think, but Gisela ordered us to get two coins. So we shouldn¡¯t rule anything out.¡± I say and look down at the directions that Ursula has yet to touch. ¡°Are these going to be of any use at all?¡±

    ¡°Hell no.¡± She laughs. ¡°If there¡¯s anything left of the original floor plan, then we¡¯d still be gambling on the safe being in the same place as before. Which I highly doubt it is. So we¡¯ll be relying on Architect¡¯s constantly generating map which is based off of the original architecture of this place. Speaking of; what¡¯s the ETA for that sucker?¡±

    ¡°Ten minutes.¡± March relays instantly. ¡°You should make your way to the main building. It¡¯ll be done by the time you get your bearings.¡±

    Ursula nods and gestures at the door. ¡°You heard the lady. Let¡¯s get moving.¡±

    Before I follow her in unsealing the room, I fold the hand-written note and stuff it into my back pocket. Just in case we need one of the drawings for some reason. Ursula peels away the thing she put up like simple tape, flings the door open, and holds it for me as salt pours into the room. Instinctively I grab the salt elemental core with one hand and hop out of the room, then wait for Ursula to slam the door shut behind us.

    She stares at the core until I let it go. ¡°That¡¯s one way of dealing with the problem. Much easier than scrambling to seal up the room every time we go in and out, too. Except for the fact that we¡¯re going to have to fight it at some point.¡±

    I dust the salt off my hands and look down at the massive drop. ¡°Better than trying to sleep with it hovering over us. You got another ladder? I¡¯m running low-ish on Worth that¡¯s not in Banker¡¯s account.¡±

    ¡°No need for a ladder. Not with a slope this slick.¡± Ursula leans down and smacks her hand against what were once stairs. ¡°Might need a crash pad, though. For you. I¡¯ll go down first and set it up.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t seriously thinking of¨C¡± I start as Ursula bares her teeth to me in an excited smile. ¡°Shit, alright, but don¡¯t come crying to me when you break every bone in your body.¡±

    Salty spray barrages the both of us as Ursula slowly gets herself in position to slide down the un-staired stairs. I shake my head and start to look away, but something stops me from fully distancing myself. Part of me wants to see this train wreck through. The other part of me wants to hop on the ramp right after Ursula and feel the salty air assault my face as I slide towards certain doom.

    ¡°See you in a minute!¡± Ursula whoops and pushes herself onto the ramp. ¡°YEAHHH!!!¡± She screams as the slick surface rips her away, careening her down, down, and down some more. Then she crashes into the bottom, rolls a few times, and wobbles to her feet while laughing and shaking a little.

    Damn. Why¡¯d that have to look like fun?

    Metal meets hands as I lower myself until I¡¯m sitting on the edge of the platform. The long stretch of ramp unfurls below me like the world¡¯s weirdest waterslide, and instead of jumping from my chest, my heart just beats faster and faster in anticipation. There definitely should be some fear here. Like, a whole lot of fear. Enough fear to make an entire stadium uneasy. But there¡¯s only spine-tingling excitement¨Csomething right next to fear, but without any of the reluctance that stops me from doing something incredibly dangerous.

    Ursula points and laughs at me, then summons her briefcase and pulls out an entire crash mat from the thing. She makes a show of fluffing it out like a comforter, lays it gingerly down at the foot of the ramp, and makes a ¡®there you go¡¯ motion with her hands before stepping away. I push off before she can take two steps.

    Wind and salt batter my face along with the constant mist of the ocean spray. I strain to keep my eyes open against the force as my body squeals sharply on the metal slope. Something wells up in my chest as I struggle to keep myself from falling flat on my back and smashing my head open on the ramp. It keeps growing and growing with every second the world flies by until a scream fueled by adrenaline and exhilaration rips free from my lungs and tears through the squeal of the slide.

    Pearl laughs giddily right along with me. She catches herself almost immediately after the noise, but the grin on her face can¡¯t be contained with her hands over her mouth. And then, just as quickly as it began, the crash pad overtakes my entire world as I slam into it feet first. I yelp in surprise as my legs get caught perfectly straight, sending me bolt upright and staggering for a few dozen awareness-aided steps before I finally manage to get my footing.

    Ursula whoops in triumph and claps me on the shoulder. ¡°Nothing like a little adrenaline to get the blood pumping! Oh, uh, sorry for the noise, Architect.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I saw it coming.¡± March says tensely. ¡°Just, um, try not to yell so much. Please.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Sorry again.¡± Ursula apologizes with a wince at March¡¯s tone. ¡°Point us towards the entrance, please?¡±

    I try to tone out the quick little exchange between the two of them, but it¡¯s sort of hard when March is directly in my ear. There¡¯s something I need to talk to Pearl about¨Csomething that could be pretty damn important¨Cbut there¡¯s really not a great time to do that any more. Not until it¡¯d be appropriate to pull out my Class Card, and she can actually talk without risking March overhearing.

    But I need to know if that excitement was all me. Or if she has a part in it.

    ¡°Alright, thanks. You¡¯re doing great, so keep doing what you¡¯re doing.¡± Ursula tells March, then turns to me and nods in the direction of the main structure. ¡°You heard the woman. Unless the apocalypse decided to change around where the entrance is, we¡¯ve got a short walk on our hands.¡±

    I raise my chin in acknowledgement as I wait for Ursula to get out ahead of me. She shrugs and takes the lead, and I fall in step right after. The rig clanks and rings out with every footstep, somehow louder than when the mist was still there, and the groans of straining metal echo out like the labored wails of a massive beast. In less than two weeks, this will be a krarig. One of the most dangerous apocalyptic creations the world has ever seen. Depending on which way it decides to go, a country could get it just as bad as Greenland did.

    ¡°So¡­ who¡¯s going to kill this thing?¡±

    Ursula shrugs. ¡°Depends who decides they want to kill it. Krarig parts are ludicrously expensive, so there¡¯s a market for killing them, but I doubt there¡¯s a lot of groups strong enough to do so.¡± She thinks for a second, then raises all five of the fingers on her right hand. ¡°I can think of five organizations with enough firepower to take it down. The preservation¡¯s number one, obviously. We¡¯re number two, but we¡¯re not ready to move out for an event like this. Number three is shared by a bunch of different government militaries. And numbers four and five¡­ well¡­¡±

    She shakes her head and sighs. ¡°They haven¡¯t been seen in years, but we¡¯re pretty sure they¡¯re just in hiding. One of ¡®em is a group like us; calls themselves The Unheard. And the other¡¯s the preservation¡¯s main competition; HuSt.¡±

    That name nearly gives me whiplash with how strong the memories it brings come in. Humanity Strong¨Calso known as HuSt¨Cwas one of the orgs that popped up in the wake of the apocalypse. Just like the preservation. The difference was that they were much more of a group of powerful individuals¨Clike the resort¨Cbut united under a much more official banner. Scandals and allegations ripped the org a new one, and I haven¡¯t heard anything about them in¡­ it¡¯s gotta be at least five years now.

    ¡°You really think HuSt¡¯s still kicking?¡± I ask warily. ¡°Because some of the shit they got accused of¡­ well, they made new laws because of them.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t gotta tell me. I had the displeasure of working for them for a few years. As plain old non-magical infantry before I got my Class Coin.¡± Ursula shakes her head and chuckles humourlessly. ¡°The things I heard¡­ the things I ignored¡­ I tried to make most of it right, but some things you can¡¯t fix. You just gotta try to make ¡®em as right as possible. If HuSt is still around¨Cwhich I can almost guarantee they are¨Cthey¡¯ll make sure the krarig goes down and disappears without a trace. Good for people in general, but that¡¯s putting a lot of dangerous materials in the hands of dangerous people.¡±

    God damn. I always knew Earth wasn¡¯t super safe after the apocalypse hit, but I always sort of thought we¡¯d hashed it out. Got rid of most of the really awful shit that happened in the apocalypse¡¯s wake. But I guess that¡¯s wishful thinking.

    Ursula notices the expression on my face and nods with sympathy. ¡°Hey, maybe I¡¯m wrong. Maybe some powerful individual will kill the krarig for nothing more than clout. Weirder things have happened before.¡±

    I shake my head to try and clear the worry. ¡°It¡¯s not the krarig I¡¯m worried about. ¡­Alright, it is the krarig, but it¡¯s not only the krarig. I mean¡­ what if there are more organizations like HuSt? Ones operating in the shadows with less than noble intentions?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sister, there are. Dozens and dozens of ¡®em. We¡¯re doing our best to choke out their business, but there are still plenty of countries that won¡¯t use anything we give ¡®em. But that¡¯s a worry for another day. Like when we decide if we¡¯re going to do that job for the Chinese woman.¡± Ursula smiles reassuringly and nods towards the main building. ¡°The comfort of the apocalypse-touched oil rig beckons.¡±

 Chapter 64: Messed Up Space

    A yawning void of jagged metal and molten salt looms menacingly before us. Chunks of not-quite-liquid salt hang against the metal like the remnants of a crystalline meal, gaining more mass from the salty winds than drips down from their long pointed thorns. Ursula and I share a reluctant look as we stand before the entrance to the rig proper, wind howling through the space and echoing deep into a paradoxically large chamber.

    ¡°Hey, uh, Architect? How¡¯s that updated map coming?¡± Ursula says as she slowly traces the entryway with her eyes. ¡°Because I¡¯m pretty sure the regular one¡¯s going to be about as much help as a towel in a monsoon.¡±

    March laughs quietly as her keyboard clacks away. ¡°I like that image. The updated one is about eighty percent complete, but I should be able to run it while you guys go in. Be super careful. There¡¯s a lot of magic in there.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s an understatement.¡± I whistle as the glow of a few salt elemental cores cross through in the darkness ahead. ¡°So, uh, what should we expect in here? Salt elementals and turned equipment?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much, yeah. Probably don¡¯t have to say this, but don¡¯t let the molten salt touch you. It¡¯ll burn like crazy and leave some wicked scars.¡± Ursula says as she reaches out and pulls a salt thorn from the entrance. ¡°Hey, Architect, is this something we could use back at the resort? Or should we even bother collecting it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± March replies instantly. ¡°I¡¯ve never worked with salt like this before. Maybe try bringing back a few elemental cores; they could change regular salt into this special stuff.¡±

    Ursula sends the salt spear into her inventory. ¡°How much of the regular salt do you want?¡±

    ¡°As much as you can fit in your inventory.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha. Gambler; you¡¯re in charge of making sure I don¡¯t die when I¡¯m harvesting the salt. You seem to have a good eye for danger, so don¡¯t let something sneak up and brain me.¡± Ursula jumps up and snaps another salt thorn from the door.

    Molten salt bursts free from the stump, dripping lazily over her hand like a coating of wax. She grunts in discomfort, then flings it free with an errant wave. It doesn¡¯t even leave a mark on her skin¨Cnevermind horribly burning her. That¡¯s got to be her Body stat in action. Or a skill that gives her¡­ whatever resistance to molten salt is. Burning, I guess?

    ¡°Yeesh, that¡¯s hot.¡± She notes nonchalantly and sends the salt thorn away. ¡°You really need to get that inventory teleporter prototype you¡¯ve been working on up and running. It¡¯d save me a bunch of inventory space while also making sure we¡¯re not wasting our time here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that easy to crack something that doesn¡¯t want to work.¡± March replies. ¡°You could¡¯ve just taken a few teleporters with you, you know. Fly out to the end of the disturbance, teleport a bunch of things to me, and go back.¡±

    ¡°If you saw how rough the run-up was, you wouldn¡¯t be suggesting that.¡± Ursula chuckles as she harvests the rest of the thorns. ¡°This storm is the kind of freaky that makes the bermuda triangle look like¡­ a¡­ bermuda circle?¡±

    I snort out a laugh and shake my head. ¡°Wow. That was¡­ wow.¡±

    ¡°Hey, my mouth started a sentence my brain didn¡¯t know how to finish. You feel anything weird going on? How ¡®bout you, Architect?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± March and I say in unison.

    ¡°Good. Probably means it hasn¡¯t gotten to the boiling point just yet.¡± Ursula takes a step into the apocalypse-touched space as she dusts off her hands. ¡°Stay on your toes, both of you. I know this isn¡¯t your first day out, Architect, but unless I¡¯m wrong, this is your first real monstrosity on Earth.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± March confirms. ¡°Well, unless you count that massive shipping ship where we actually got the tech working for about thirty minutes at the end.¡±

    Ursula shakes her head as she takes a look around the place. ¡°Nope, we don¡¯t count that. Hey, Gambler, what do you make of this place? ¡®Cause it doesn¡¯t look like any mudroom I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±

    A quick scan confirms that, no, this definitely isn¡¯t a mudroom. Most mudrooms don¡¯t have a crap ton of tables, TVs, vending machines, kitchen appliances, and an entire kitchen off to one side. If anything, it reminds me of a cafeteria slash break room mixed into one. Except everything¡¯s at least partially encased in salt crystals that glow with an inner magical light. There¡¯s a few distinct spaces in the wall of vending machines, most of which are stocked with expired snacks and half-coated in massive salt crystals, and a trail of scratches on the floor tells the story of how they went missing.

    ¡°You think the apocalypse scrambled which rooms are where?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I think.¡± Ursula sighs and summons a revolver that looks like it was carved from marble into her left hand. She spins open the barrel, presses her fingertip to each cylinder, then snaps it shut. ¡°But we should be ready for a few vending machines, an industrial sized stove, and a bunch of salt elementals. Plus whatever else I haven¡¯t noticed is missing.¡±

    I summon my knife into my right hand and a single Worth into my left. It splits into two with a skill, and two flips gets me right back to where it was value-wise. One of them gets a shield that goes into my knife, and the other stays in my left palm as a failsafe. Ursula glances over at me when my knife gets a prismatic edge, but doesn¡¯t say anything. Instead she just gestures towards the darkness ahead, illuminated only by the soft glow of salt, and places her finger on the trigger.

    My knife suddenly feels a lot heavier in my hand. I flip it nervously between my fingers and clench the coin in my left hand, mentally attaching a command to put a shield into it for easy access.

    ¡°Before we go deeper, should we stay quiet?¡± I ask with a glance into the kitchen with my awareness. There¡¯s way more empty spaces than Ursula thought. ¡°Are we being stealthy?¡±

    She shakes her head and starts moving. ¡°The elementals will feel us in the salty air, and the apocalypse-touched stuff is a weird mess of dangerous and annoying. Have you ever fought a vending machine?¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°No, but I¡¯ve destroyed a toaster before.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ more than a little different. But not necessarily less dangerous.¡± Ursula chuckles as she lets me take the lead. Damn me for having better awareness than her. ¡°These things won¡¯t be like the dragonjet; they¡¯ll have magic based on what they could do as a regular old appliance, but amplified more than a little so that they¡¯re actually threatening.¡±

    I tilt my head to the side while we walk. My footsteps echo against the metal floor, softened slightly by all the salt crystals, but the sheer amount of magic in the air makes it reverberate through my head like distant gunshots. Somehow the damn crystals work like amplifiers and dampeners at the same time.

    ¡°How¡¯s that different than the dragonjet?¡± I ask a little louder than necessary. Ursula seems taken aback by my volume, and I can hear March wince from her side. ¡°Wait, is it not super loud in here for you? Am I the only one that can hear this?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head and points to herself, but that''s not very helpful. She¡¯s hearing exactly what I¡¯m hearing, after all. Ursula sticks out the hand she was using to steady her gun and waggles it side to side.

    ¡°Just a little too loud. If anything, it¡¯s way too quiet in here for me. Almost like we¡¯re walking into some ancient tomb. Brr.¡± She shudders. ¡°You got some weird skills in your first two weeks, sister. Just remember that we don¡¯t have ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°What she said.¡± March echoes. ¡°But doubly so for me, since I hear everything twice over.¡±

    ¡°You can mute one of us for now since we¡¯re still so close together.¡± Ursula suggests. ¡°That way you won¡¯t have to deal with overlapping audio.¡±

    ¡°Nope. I might miss something important. I¡¯ll endure this.¡±

    From the tone of March¡¯s voice, it seems like it¡¯ll actually be a struggle to endure listening in on us. Which makes me wonder why she¡¯s the one doing this instead of Noland¨Che¡¯d probably be a lot better on the comms. Maybe it has to do with their skills, but there¡¯s no reason Noland couldn¡¯t use a building March built. He¡¯s definitely got the Worth for it. But that¡¯s not important¨Cwe¡¯ve got the team we¡¯ve got, and I need to focus on making sure none of us get taken out pointlessly.

    I shift my posture slightly to more readily react to whatever my awareness tells me and make my way towards the dark. The cafeteria seems to be completely empty of anything living for the moment, but that doesn¡¯t mean that it¡¯ll be empty when we¡¯re coming back up. I turn my head and try to make a mental map of the place¨Cmemorizing where each and every appliance stands and how much salt is everywhere¨Cbut it¡¯s a fool¡¯s errand. For me.

    For Pearl? She glares incessantly forward with rapt attention, tracing her fingers through the air as she mouths words that I can¡¯t quite make out. But it feels like she¡¯s doing the exact same thing I just tried to do. So I can go into the darkness without worrying about anything from behind us coming to life to surprise us.

    A near complete wall of silken darkness stands between us and the salty reaches beyond. I raise my knife hand for Ursula to stop, then reach out with my coin hand to gently brush my fingers against the darkness. They¡¯re met with the smallest amount of resistance, but there¡¯s definitely resistance there. Extremely humid, yet somehow freezing cold, resistance.

    ¡°That¡¯s definitely not good.¡± I mutter to myself as I shake my fingers off and look back at Ursula. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine in there with your Body stat, but I¡¯m definitely going to freeze to death if I go in there.¡±

    ¡°Easy fix.¡± She says confidently and places a hand on my shoulder. A sheen of magic spreads from her touch over my body in an instant, and suddenly, I feel like I¡¯m standing in a sauna. ¡°Don¡¯t have a cold resistance spell, but I¡¯ve got one that makes everything a little too hot. Helped me out in Antarctica, so it should be more than fine for right now.¡±

    The urge to pant and huff in the sudden onslaught of heat is strong. The magic sticks to every inch of my body like uncomfortably sweaty clothes after an intense workout, but a hand across my forehead comes up clean. No sweat to be found.

    ¡°What about the equipment? That¡¯s all water and temperature proof?¡±

    Ursula taps her earpiece with confidence. ¡°Graded to work in any pressure, temperature, or climactic saturation. Without losing a single percentage of functionality, if I say so myself. The only thing that messes with these puppies is extremely strong magic, but what we did back at the building attuned them to this place. Don¡¯t worry about them messing up.¡±

    Reassuring. I take a deep breath and gently push my hand through the barrier of darkness, feeling the cold humidity cling to the magic around me like condensation on plastic wrap. It doesn¡¯t feel anywhere near as horrible as I expected. Don¡¯t get me wrong¨Cit¡¯s not a pleasant feeling at all¨Cjust not as ¡®freeze to death¡¯ as I expected.

    I push through with one massive shiver. No more light meets my eyes as the strangeness of the krarig overtakes me¨Cjust the glow of salt casting long shadows over the nearby area. Ursula follows closely behind with a shiver of her own, and we carefully make our way into the darkness.

    ¡°Good lord, this is unpleasant.¡± She says, her voice muffled ever so slightly by the darkness. ¡°It¡¯s like we¡¯re underwater, but without any of the upsides of being underwater. Hell, it feels heavier now than it did a second ago. That ain¡¯t just me, right?¡±

    No, it¡¯s definitely not just her. It feels like gravity¡¯s intensified by a little¨Cmaybe only twenty percent or so¨Cbut it¡¯s more than enough to throw off my senses. I nod in agreement and take a few questing steps onto the metallic floor, my feet slipping more than a little with every single motion. Just like Ursula said¨Call the negatives of being underwater with none of the benefits. Including an extremely slippery floor without the whole ¡®floating¡¯ thing.

    ¡°This is pretty damn horrible.¡± I mutter as a railing comes into view. ¡°So how the hell does light work here? If it¡¯s completely dark we shouldn¡¯t be able to see anything at all. But that just came into view from absolutely nothing, even though there¡¯s salt lights all around us.¡±

    Ursula shrugs with one shoulder. ¡°Magic. Bullshit. Call it whatever you want, but it¡¯s what¡¯s going on right now.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit is right.¡± I chuckle and hold out an arm to stop Ursula from walking any further. ¡°Careful. There¡¯s a long-ass drop on the other side of this railing. And¡­ huh. There¡¯s something a little further up. After the seemingly endless drop.¡±

    ¡°Endless, huh?¡± Ursula leans over the railing and hums deep in her throat. ¡°Wonder where it ends up. If we¡¯ve got time at the end of this, think you can spare a coin for relocation?¡±

    I shoot her a look of disbelief as I walk around the massive hole. ¡°You want to go down there? When it could possibly lead to¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ a vat of raw magic that can dissolve you down to a human-based slurry?¡±

    ¡°See, that¡¯s the three key words right there. ¡®I don¡¯t know¡¯.¡± Ursula jogs to catch up with me and gently nudges me with her elbow. ¡°Nobody knows what¡¯s down there, and it could be amazing. Or it could kill a weak person instantly. Luckily for both of us, I¡¯m not weak. And you¡¯ve got one of the most absurd scouting spells I¡¯ve ever seen. We¡¯re going to find out what¡¯s down there, and it¡¯s not going to kill me.¡±

    ¡°It better not.¡± March cuts in. ¡°I like being around you.¡±

    ¡°Aw, love you too.¡± Ursula says with a grin. ¡°Do your best to map this place out. Oh, should we be waiting around in each room so you can get the location data?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes, that¡¯d be really helpful. Ten minutes per room should give me enough time to make a real model of this place. Thanks.¡±

    ¡°No prob.¡± Ursula says as we get closer and closer to the thing I can feel with my awareness. There¡¯s something¡­ really familiar about it. So familiar that I could swear I¡¯ve seen it almost every day of my life. Maybe even every single day of my life. And there¡¯s a smear of something coating the ground around it, leading to one of the walls, where another thing¡­ sits.

    Lifelessly. With enough salt thorns sticking out of it to make a pincushion jealous.

 Chapter 65: Deadly Deterrent

    I swallow hard as the ghastly visage of a desiccated corpse half-coated in salt crystals comes into view. Parts of it look crushed. Others bubble and scar with horrible burns. And there¡¯s one very specific¡­ hole¡­ in it that looks like it could¡¯ve been made with a corkscrew.

    Ursula hisses out a curse and watches as I walk up to the corpse and press my hand to it. ¡°Shit. Guess we weren¡¯t the first to come here, huh? You think these two were alone?¡±

    My fingers brush up against leathery skin littered with tiny salt crystals. It¡¯s more than a little macabre to leave something like this around¨Cand no well-meaning people would leave it as anything but a warning. Unless they were forced to leave it. By¡­ whatever could be around here.

    ¡°Alone?¡± Ursula shakes her head. ¡°Definitely not. Nobody¡¯s stupid enough to come here without an army¨Cor someone with the firepower of one. Question is what happened to the rest of ¡®em.¡±

    I stand up and dust off my hands. ¡°Well, that probably depends on how unstable this place is. Do you think it¡¯s possible the rooms could constantly shift around?¡±

    ¡°Not after they started forming. We¡¯re in the possible last few-ish days before this thing¡¯s birth¨Cdamn near everything¡¯s set in stone. That¡¯s right, right Architect?¡±

    ¡°Yup. Nothing should be shifting around anymore. That only happened right when the apocalypse started taking this place, which could¡¯ve been a long time ago.¡± March replies. ¡°Whoever you found definitely came here after the real instability finished up.¡±

    ¡°So they¡¯re gone, dead, or deeper in?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡± March confirms. ¡°Can you tell if these people died on the way down, or on the way back up?¡±

    I frown down at the corpse, not wanting to crouch back down to get another, closer look. There¡¯s definitely more than a few signs of struggle¨Cthat¡¯s for damn sure¨Cbut I¡¯m not smart enough to tell if they mean the person was running in or out. I raise an eyebrow at Ursula, who scratches her chin while deep in thought.

    ¡°It looks like this one was killed by the apocalypse-touched stuff, then preserved by the salt. And that other one¨C¡± She nods at the one impaled on a wall, ¡°looks like it was one-hundred percent murdered by the elementals. My guess is that wall-woman got killed on the way in, and the ground-guy got done in by apocalypse-spawn that appeared after his group already went down.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s as good a theory as any. And it really drives the point home about how we¡¯ve gotta watch our backs and our fronts.¡± I carefully step around the ground-guy and glance over at the wall-woman. ¡°So the salt elementals are going to be more sharp and thorny, and less huge and crush-y?¡±

    Ursula shrugs and nudges the corpse with her foot. ¡°Probably don¡¯t assume anything until you¡¯ve seen it with your own eyes.¡±

    Yeah, yeah, good advice and all. I take a few more steps out into the darkness, Ursula hot on my heels, and try to ignore the obvious signs of combat. Dents in the floor, long scratches and gouges, and more than a few kinds of magical damage. I swallow hard and adjust my shirt against Ursula¡¯s magic as the lights of the salt elementals glow off in the distance like warm candles.

    I gesture for Ursula to slow down a little as one of the lights starts to grow closer. It starts off as a simple sphere¨Cone no bigger than my fist¨Cbut with every passing second it branches off into a strange shape. Spires of salt branch off the core like a porcupine, but that¡¯s all there is. A core in the middle and a bunch of thorns surrounding it, each barely glowing with their own thin line of magical light.

    ¡°It¡¯s like a sea urchin.¡± I note as it lazily floats closer and closer. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ honestly kind of boring. I guess I was expecting a little more?¡±

    My awareness flares as the core of the salt elemental flashes bright. Warnings come at me directly from the front, and I call on the coin in my left hand to put up a shield from whatever¡¯s happening. Dozens of thuds ring out at once¨Clike a spray of gravel churned up by a lawnmower pinging against a metal shed¨Cas countless salt thorns shatter on my shield.

    I nod to myself and send my shield away to give Ursula a bead on the core. Two quick shots echo like the ringing of a massive stone gong, and the core detonates into chunks of magically-infused salt. Thorns slough off the now dead core as it crumbles to the ground, rolling away uselessly to illuminate parts of the ground before they too lose all their light.

    ¡°Yup, weird magical porcupine sea urchin. If one of these isn¡¯t what killed the wall woman, I¡¯ll lick one of these thorns.¡± I kick away a spine for emphasis and start towards all the others. ¡°Not super interesting, though.¡±

    ¡°No, definitely not interesting.¡± Ursula sighs in a tone that implies an eye roll. ¡°You know, other people with as much experience as you would¡¯ve been shitting their pants at the sight of that thing. Hell, I thought you were frozen in fear until you insulted it to its face. Glad that assumption was completely wrong.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, not much can surprise me these days. Physically, I mean. Like, in the sneak-up-on-you kind of way. I¡¯ve had a shit ton of mental surprises this month.¡± I chuckle knowingly. ¡°So, all these other ones down here have the same kind of light bleed as this one. I¡¯d bet they¡¯re all anemone types, which means we shouldn¡¯t get close to them if we can help it. Unless you¡¯re willing to provide the shields and the firepower?¡±

    Ursula shrugs, then takes a breath and steadies her gun. Four more shots ring out with bursts of magic, and four elemental cores shatter into luminescent chunks. She flips open the barrel and reloads with her fingertip, then snaps it shut and continues firing. I watch as she repeats this a few times to deal with all the floating salt elementals, then tilt my head in question when she finally lowers her gun.

    ¡°We safe to move?¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know.¡± She says as she reloads once more. ¡°That¡¯s your job. And Architect¡¯s. Speaking of¨Chow¡¯s this room¡¯s layout coming? Do we need to wait much longer?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m done here. The next room¡¯s already starting to get mapped. Thanks for making that thing quieter.¡±

    ¡°No problemo.¡± Ursula nods off into the darkness with a small, excited smile. ¡°You heard the overseer. Want to scope the rest of this room out or move right on?¡±

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    I raise an eyebrow at that. ¡°That sounds like the kind of decision someone with way more experience than me should be making.¡±

    ¡°Well, that person wants to see how you do things.¡±

    Alright, I guess. I turn around slowly and scour what I can see of the room, but most of its clouded by this annoying cover of darkness. The weird salt formations light everything up around them, but depending on how big the formation is, ¡®around them¡¯ is just a few inches of light. Most of them almost look like plants¨Cflowers, to be specific¨Cbut only if those flowers were way more jagged and dangerous than anything else. One in particular looks like a flower you¡¯d see a hummingbird drinking out of; complete with long luminescent antenna-like things poking out of the center and ¡®petals¡¯ that curl back like noisemakers ready to be blown.

    It doesn¡¯t call to me at all. My brain insists that it¡¯s not important¨Cor even dangerous. But it¡¯s such a strange formation, especially for where we are, that I want to get a closer look. Want¨Cnot need. Something tells me that¡¯s a very important distinction for my awareness to make.

    ¡°Let¡¯s take a look around.¡± I decide and start towards the salt flower. ¡°There¡¯s got to be a reason these things took these shapes. Architect, can you¡­ send us the map or something?¡±

    ¡°No. If I could, I wouldn¡¯t have to be here.¡± March says with an inferred ¡®duh¡¯ at the end. ¡°But I can explain it to you. The room you¡¯re in is a little more than a hundred feet by a hundred feet wide, and it¡¯s a perfect square. You already know about the super huge hole. And there¡¯s four exits, each one in the middle of the four different walls, but the one on the left is wrong.¡±

    That doesn¡¯t sound good. ¡°What do you mean by ¡®wrong¡¯?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t work right. There¡¯s nothing through it, but you can still go through it. Maybe it just drops off the side of the krarig.¡±

    ¡°So don¡¯t go to the left. Gotcha.¡± Ursula chuckles from right behind me. ¡°Any insight on whether the right or straight exit leads where we want to go?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    I wait a few seconds for an explanation, but none comes. Hopefully that means either of the exits are just as likely to lead us in the right direction. Magical light from the floral salt formation finally hits my skin as I get within spitting distance, and I can feel a slight graininess pressing against Ursula¡¯s magic. Almost like the salt is trying to scrub it away.

    Except it¡¯s way too weak for that. I reach in and snap off one of the flower¡¯s inner antennae with a twist of my wrist, then turn around and present it for Ursula to study along with me. She leans in and brushes the tip of it with her finger, taking off a thin layer of salt that glows brighter than anything else.

    ¡°Huh. Salt pollen.¡± She muses as she stares at her finger. ¡°Looks like you snapped off one of that thing¡¯s stamen. Stamens? The pollen producing part; you know what I mean.¡±

    Is that what it¡¯s called? Some part of me remembers hearing that back in middle school, but all those memories are clouded with cringe, regrets, and grunge music. So they¡¯re a little hard to actually access.

    ¡°Why would a magical formation like this try and accurately reproduce a flower?¡± I wonder as I swipe a finger across the salt pollen. The glow almost feels like it wants to seep into me, but that seems like a really horrible idea. ¡°Couldn¡¯t it just replicate the shape?¡±

    ¡°Magic is weird. It could¡¯ve latched onto the idea of a flower and that¡¯s it. Now you¡¯ve got magical salt that crystallizes into the shapes of flowers.¡± Ursula points a thumb over her shoulder at the entryway. ¡°You saw all those thorns on the doorway. Very plant-like. In fact, I¡¯d bet we¡¯re going to see a huge variety of salt-plants the further down we go.¡±

    ¡°So what about the elementals, then?¡± I ask. ¡°That one looked like a sea urchin. Unless I¡¯ve been wrong my entire life, I¡¯m pretty sure a sea urchin is an animal. ¡­It is an animal, right?¡±

    ¡°Some kind of sea life, sure. But need I remind you?¡± Ursula grabs one of the flower¡¯s ¡®petals¡¯ and rips it free. A trickle of molten salt drips free, as bright and magical as the heart of a forge. ¡°Magic. Is. Weird. It¡¯s completely possible the krarig made a bunch of plants for the scenery and a bunch of sea creatures for the elementals. Or the elementals don¡¯t actually have any forms at all, and they¡¯re just¡­ making sharp things on themselves.¡±

    She sends the petal away, then leans in to rip another off. ¡°Don¡¯t ascribe logic to something illogical. It¡¯ll only frustrate you.¡±

    I watch with a frown as she completely harvests the flower. Only the trickle of molten salt remains after, dripping down a small stem that connects to a chunk of salt crystal coating the wall. There¡¯s something here. I just know there is.

    ¡°Well, this one¡¯s closer to the right exit, so let¡¯s go there. Maybe it¡¯s a waymarker or something.¡±

    Ursula nods and readjusts herself into a ready stance. I tear my eyes away from the crystal wall where the flower once was and make my way into the darkness, footsteps echoing like rain as the humid chill takes on a slightly more sinister undertone. Pearls of light flicker somewhere in the distance, but unlike the hole room, this one is mostly visible. Rickety metal stairs spiral down, down, and down some more towards something at the bottom so littered with salty light that my eyes start to water.

    The stairs groan under the weight of one of my feet. Shuddering metal sends a pang of fear deep into my spine, and I can¡¯t help but shudder at the thought of all this collapsing with us on it. I look back at Ursula to see how she wants to go on, but her face shows absolutely no worry at all. So I suck it up and put my entire weight on the first step.

    It creaks and whines, but holds strong. I swallow hard and shift my knife from one hand to the other, then settle on strapping it to my forearm. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m impaling myself if I fall. The salt elementals will have to fight me a little more for the privilege of killing me.

    I slowly take a few stairs down, grasping for handrails that don¡¯t exist, and pause to nod back at Ursula. She returns the gesture and confidently steps onto the deathtrap. Somehow she maneuvers the slippery steps with the grace of a dancer¨Cmeanwhile, I¡¯m taking it as slow as a snail stuck in molasses. It works for the both of us¨Cbut it takes me way, way longer than her.

    ¡°Sorry for the delay.¡± I chuckle reluctantly as I glance over the edge. Still a long, long way to go. ¡°How¡¯re you latching on so easily? Is it a skill?¡±

    Ursula laughs and leans down to pat her boot. ¡°Boot spikes. Bought ¡®em from Gil last time he was in and had someone in the other world make me a pair that¡¯s got enough magic to make a wizard choke. I can recommend you to them once you¡¯ve got enough Worth to pay their absurd fees.¡±

    ¡°Not sure I want to ask this, but how much?¡±

    ¡°Eighteen thousand Worth flat.¡± Ursula says, then chuckles at my expression. ¡°Yeah, I know. Highway robbery. But the people who run it are the best in the business¨Clifetime warranties, free repairs, and more enchantments than you can imagine. Only thing that would be better is if one of the Worth classes ends up being something like a Craftsman.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s a little too rich for¨C¡±

    My awareness latches onto something airborne and drags my mind to it. I snap to the point in space where it screams something is, but all I can see is an extremely slight shimmer in the darkness. Something I would¡¯ve missed a hundred times out of a hundred if I didn¡¯t have my awareness looking out for me.

    I point directly at it. My awareness splits into a spray of dark tendrils, each touching a different thing and alerting me to its existence. All of them feel exactly the same as the first¨Cwhich means all of them are nearly invisible to the naked eye.

    Ursula raises her gun and aims directly where my finger¡¯s pointing. ¡°Call it.¡±

    ¡°Thirteen of them. Don¡¯t know how big.¡± I say without moving my arm. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you when they¡¯re dead.¡±

 Chapter 66: Crystalline Ecosystem

    Magical gunshots pepper the air, and one by one, the encroaching things shatter to pieces. I mark them as Ursula systematically dismantles them, but as she goes to ¡®reload¡¯, something seems wrong. Seven of them are still flying towards us in a straight line, but the other six¡­ they¡¯re still moving too. Even though they¡¯re in pieces.

    Before the chunks can hit me, the explanation does. Just because Ursula broke them into pieces, it doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re going to stop. Because these aren¡¯t elementals¨Cthey¡¯re projectiles.

    I grab her wrist and pull her down the rickety stairs. She yelps in surprise and drops her gun, which reappears in her hand before it can hit the ground.

    ¡°What?!¡± She demands, but doesn¡¯t resist. ¡°Did I miss or something?!¡±

    A spray of salt slams into the stairs where we just were, shearing away thick metal as if it were cool mud. Ursula blinks twice, then raises her gun and fires at the now visible chunks of salt. Each of them so saturated with magic that they thrum like the heartbeat of a massive machine.

    ¡°They¡¯re not elementals.¡± I explain as she reloads a single shot to destroy the last one. We both duck under the spray, then hurry down a few more stairs in the temporary calm. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I should call it a spell or an ability, but that¡¯s what they are. And since they¡¯re completely lifeless, breaking them into chunks turns them from cannonballs into scattershot.¡±

    Ursula lowers her gun with a grunt. ¡°Well, damn. Should I keep blasting them, or are we better off keeping them whole?¡±

    The last broken salt cannonball sprays the stairs with its payload. More metal disappears in its wake with the rickety structure letting out a pained groan that resonates in my bones and causes my stomach to drop.

    ¡°I guess the question is if one massive hole or a bunch of little holes is worse.¡± I pant as my legs struggle to keep me from falling from the stairs while also keeping the pace. ¡°Can you see what the load-bearing pole for this looks like?¡±

    ¡°Load bearing poles? What load bearing poles?¡± Ursula laughs and shakes her head. ¡°Gambler, there isn¡¯t a load bearing pole here. If one step gets obliterated, this entire structure collapses like a dropped slinky.¡±

    I swallow hard and point off into the distance as more cannonballs appear out of nowhere. ¡°Then I guess we better not let a cannonball through.¡±

    ¡°No, we definitely shouldn¡¯t.¡± Ursula agrees and reloads the rest of her ¡®bullets¡¯. She raises her gun and takes aim without stopping, her arms as unmoving as ancient oaks, and puts a little pressure on the trigger. ¡°Call it.¡±

    My awareness latches onto the closest one. It feels no different than any of the others, which is probably a good thing. Means whatever¡¯s shooting at us isn¡¯t adapting.

    ¡°Pull.¡±

    Ursula fires, and the cannonball shatters. I snap to the next one, the knowledge of the oncoming scattershot pushing me down the stairs with a desperate vigor.

    ¡°Pull.¡± I say. The word is immediately followed by a gunshot. ¡°Pull. Pull. Pull. Pull. Reload.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t gotta tell me to do that.¡± Ursula says calmly as she snaps her barrel back into place. ¡°Just focus on calling ¡®em out.¡±

    Before I can call out the next one, the first spray of salt scythes through the stairs. My heart skips a beat in fear as the groaning intensifies, but it looks like it''s holding. A quick glance down to the ground dries my mouth, and I swallow hard around that dryness as I focus on the problem at hand.

    We aren¡¯t even a tenth of the way down.

    ¡°Pull.¡±

    <hr>

    Thick, humid sweat on my lips contrasts disgustingly with the desert that is my throat. A breath burns my lungs before forcing its way up and out of my mouth, carrying with it the last moment of silence before I force my voice to eke out another command.

    ¡°Pull.¡±

    It¡¯s quiet. More than a little pathetic. But it makes its way to Ursula¡¯s ears, and my voice is suddenly and completely overridden by the hundred and somethingth gunshot of the¡­ hour? Hours? The staircase groans and shudders like we¡¯ve been trampling it for days, so it¡¯s no help, and the ground is so tantalizingly close. But my estimate was so, so wrong. Because of me. And my lack of stamina.

    Pearl and Illumisia¡¯s enhancements are trying their absolute best to keep me going, but there¡¯s only so much you can do with the base material that was my body. It proves more than anything that I need to work on myself since the system won¡¯t do the work for me because of my Worth. Ursula¡¯s been as patient as a saint, but I can see the stress and impatience in how she fidgets and moves when she¡¯s stuck in place for more than a few seconds.

    ¡°Pull.¡±

    Another gunshot. Another moment where I¡¯m forced to move. Ursula reaches for my arm but stops herself short of grabbing my wrist, bites her lip in worry, and hurries down a few steps before I plod down to join her.

    ¡°If you¡¯re struggling this much on the way down, it¡¯s going to be a living hell going back up.¡± She notes tensely and raises her gun with hands as steady as over an hour ago. ¡°Architect, how long have we been on this goddamn staircase?¡±

    ¡°Mmf.¡± March mumbles through a mouth of food, then leans away from the mic to swallow. ¡°An hour and thirty eight minutes. If Gambler was drawing on a draining skill this entire time, she has a good reason to be tired.¡±

    Ursula grimaces. ¡°Shit, I completely forgot about that. How¡¯s your brain doing, Gambler?¡±

    I reach up and tap my temple. ¡°Still in here.¡± I say, then point into the distance. ¡°Pull.¡±

    She fires, then spares a glance at the ground. Her eyes trail over to me, then to the ground, then back to me again. Something solidifies in her gaze, and she reaches out to grab my wrist.

    ¡°We¡¯re jumping.¡±

    ¡°We are?¡±

    ¡°We are.¡± She confirms, then lets herself fall backwards off the step, pulling me down with her.

    A thick shell of magic cradles me like a protective cocoon, obscuring my vision as my awareness tells me exactly how close we¡¯re getting to the ground. There¡¯s no need to scream, and even if I could, my throat would force it out as a scratchy gurgle. Doesn¡¯t change the fact that we¡¯re falling a good fifty feet to the ground, which is way further than anything on this damn oil rig should be, and it¡¯s less than a tenth of the total distance we¡¯ve descended.

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    Magic shatters into a million pieces around me as I slam shoulder-first into the salt-coated ground. Pain lances up my shoulder, but instead of staying in one place, it spreads out evenly through my entire body. What definitely should¡¯ve been a horribly broken bone and a concussion instead feels like a full body bruise, which is still damn horrible, but at least I can move.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have better protective magic than this?¡± I groan as I force myself to my feet. ¡°You protected the damn car from the preservation before I stepped in¨Cwhere¡¯s that shit now?¡±

    Ursula rolls her shoulder with a grimace, then pops it back into place with an audible crunch. ¡°Doesn¡¯t work great when you¡¯d just slam into the barrier instead of the floor. And I¡¯m holding back more than a little so we don¡¯t send out a massive beacon to the rest of the world. Too bad we don¡¯t have¨CI don¡¯t know¨Csome kind of short-range teleportation on the cheap.¡±

    ¡°Point taken.¡± I groan as I press on my back to try and get the ache out. It doesn¡¯t work. ¡°I¡¯ll be a little less miserly on the trips back here.¡±

    ¡°Please and thank you.¡± Ursula sighs. ¡°I know it¡¯s hard to spend Worth when you don¡¯t have a lot, but in a few years, you¡¯ll look back on this and see chump change.¡±

    I don¡¯t doubt it. But that doesn¡¯t change the fact that I¡¯m almost at the point where I¡¯m going to have to do clearance six from scratch. That¡¯s going to suck. But you know what¡¯s going to suck even more? Climbing that damn staircase to save one Worth per trip. Goddamn am I glad I left those two coins in the helicopter.

    ¡°More on the way.¡± I mutter and scour the flats for something to hide behind. Unfortunately, the answer to my question is in the description. Unless a four-inch crag can somehow shelter me. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ dropping down a little more now. Not flying in a perfectly straight line. I¡¯m pretty sure that means whatever¡¯s creating them is further up than we thought.¡±

    ¡°Then how did all the others fly perfectly straight?¡± Ursula punctuates her question with gunfire, and only continues when I lower my arm. ¡°Any theories?¡±

    ¡°No need for theories.¡± March interrupts. ¡°There¡¯s a dozen blips other than you two on the map, and they were getting brighter and brighter until you hit the ground. That means they¡¯re either above or below you.¡±

    I glance down at the crystalline floor as Ursula grunts in understanding. There¡¯s an extremely low chance something would¡¯ve been rising from the floor as we got further down. Which means whatever¡¯s firing those cannonballs at us is lowering from the ceiling to do its dirty work. And it must¡¯ve gone to the end of its rope.

    ¡°When you say a dozen, do you actually mean twelve?¡± I ask before Ursula can say anything.

    ¡°Mmhm.¡± March confirms. ¡°Exactly twelve, and they¡¯re spread out on the other side of the room.¡±

    ¡°Probably so we couldn¡¯t react to the attacks on time.¡± Ursula muses and lowers her gun. She gestures for me to follow her, then twitches as vibrations shoot through the floor. ¡°Damn. Is that another barrage?¡±

    I shake my head and plod along after her. ¡°Not yet. I can¡¯t feel whatever made those vibrations. Architect, where are the exits in this place?¡±

    ¡°There are¡­ exits.¡± March says slowly.

    ¡°I sure hope so.¡± Ursula chuckles. ¡°But your tone says that isn¡¯t the end of it. What¡¯s the damage?¡±

    ¡°They aren¡¯t on your level. And I¡¯m pretty sure only one of them was up high. All the others are lower than you somehow.¡±

    Ursula and I share a worried look. That screams ¡®apocalyptic weirdness¡¯ to me.

    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯re we supposed to look for?¡±

    March¡¯s chair squeaks as she does something. I¡¯m betting it¡¯s a shrug. ¡°The one above you is connected by a catwalk that¡¯s about as safe as the staircase was. I can¡¯t see any way to get to the ones below you.¡±

    ¡°So we go for the one up high.¡± Ursula nods towards the darkness. ¡°How far are we?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s on the complete other side of the room.¡±

    She sighs and shakes her head. ¡°Of course it is. Gambler, you got another few hours in you? Or should we call it a night?¡±

    ¡°Well, considering we spent most of our time in here climbing down rickety stairs, I¡¯m just happy to be on solid ground.¡± More cannonballs enter my awareness, and I raise my arm with a wary sigh. ¡°I¡¯m starting to feel like one of those hunting dogs.¡±

    Ursula raises an eyebrow along with her gun. ¡°You mean a pointer?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That.¡± I laugh and shake my head. ¡°A little too on the nose, I guess. Oh, and you¡¯re probably going to need something bigger than that revolver. There¡¯s another volley already on its way.¡±

    Her revolver clatters to the salty ground, then disappears completely. Her briefcase takes its place for a split second as she reaches into it and pulls out what looks like a military assault rifle if it had been carved out of stone. And etched with enough tally marks to make it look like it was attacked by a very purposeful lion. She presses her finger to the release and smacks the side of the gun with her fist, dislodging the magazine, which disappears before it can hit the ground.

    Instead of pulling another out of her briefcase, Ursula places her palm against the opening where the magazine should go. Magic wells up in her hand, and as she slowly pulls it away from the gun, a brand new magazine knits itself out of nothing. It kind of looks like it takes longer than putting normal bullets into it. Or¡­ magicing up something easier to use.

    ¡°I know that look; it¡¯s the same one Architect and Merchant gave me when they saw how I do things. It¡¯s the ¡®why aren¡¯t you doing it in a much easier way¡¯ look.¡±

    I shrug and keep pointing out the cannonballs. ¡°So? Why not?¡±

    ¡°Because skills are dumb and magic is bullshit.¡± She laughs and pulls back on the slide to chamber a round. ¡°I¡¯d love to show you the exact description of this stupid-ass skill, but I had to be clearance thirty-six to actually use it. No way in hell the system lets you see that.¡±

    ¡°Cool. Hope it works better than the revolver.¡±

    She taps the side of the gun with one hand, then presses the butt into her shoulder to steady it. From a single pull of the trigger a magical distortion bellows forth, rippling through the air and creating aftershocks that chase the bullet like a pulsating jetstream. March squeals in discomfort, mumbles something about how she hates anything bigger than the revolver, and then her voice cuts out.

    ¡°Architect? Architect, are you alright?¡± I ask while Ursula continues to mow down everything I point at. ¡°Your mic just cut out.¡±

    Silence. I wait until Ursula takes out all the cannonballs, then we make a wild sprint to get out of the spray of destruction. She raises an eyebrow at me and taps her earpiece, then holds up a single finger for me to wait. All the salt chunks clear away thin lines on the floor like blades through soft mud, and when everything goes calm, Ursula flicks her earpiece three short times.

    Clattering and motion return on March¡¯s side. ¡°Are you done?¡±

    ¡°For now. Gambler will warn you before we go loud.¡± Ursula says, then mimes flicking her earpiece three times. ¡°Same signal as usual. She¡¯ll also take over calling you back to the fray. Sorry for the surprise.¡±

    ¡°I guess it¡¯s fine. But why are you two even bothering with this any more?¡± She sighs, and the clacking of her keyboard resumes. ¡°There¡¯s no staircase to get destroyed. Just run instead.¡±

    ¡­Good point. I chuckle sheepishly as Ursula presses her face into her palm, then summons a strap for her rifle and lets it dangle around her neck.

    ¡°Guess we could try letting a few of ¡®em hit the ground.¡± She pats me on the shoulder without looking at me. ¡°You¡¯re looking a little less screwed up. You good to move?¡±

    I shake my head. But she¡¯s a little right¨Cmy body feels a little better now that the time between barrages is a little longer. Probably have Pearl and Illumisia to thank for that. My brain, though? It feels like I¡¯ve been mentally lifting weight for almost an hour straight. And I¡¯m staring down an unknown number of sets to go.

    ¡°I can move.¡± I say truthfully. ¡°But if we¡¯re not shooting the cannonballs any more, I¡¯m not tracking them anywhere near as closely. You¡¯ll have to rely on your eyes and ears.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve done that for years before you came along.¡± Ursula shrugs one shoulder and continues forward. ¡°Architect, aim us towards one of the dozen things. We¡¯re gonna take it down for science.¡±

 Chapter 67: Not The Kind of Science Im Used To

    Glad I was a part of that decision. Even if I agree with it, I¡¯ve got a bad feeling I¡¯m the one that¡¯s going to struggle with taking whatever¡¯s spewing magical salt crystal cannonballs at us. Ursula¡¯s a tank, so she¡¯s going to be fine, and I¡¯m a pile of mush being piloted by some extremely complex shellraiser shit in comparison. Really hope my awareness can handle the slack my reaction time is leaving it.

    In the moments between Ursula slinging her rifle over her shoulder and March pinpointing the closest spawner, I pull out my Class Card and quickly type out a question. Apparently March can¡¯t see everything around us, so this should be safe as long as Pearl doesn¡¯t say anything in response.

    ¡°How much further can I push my awareness? Is it going to be okay?¡±

    Pearl reads the message seriously, then puts on a thoughtful look. After a moment she waggles her hand in a ¡®kind of¡¯ motion. Not exactly what I was looking for, but at least it doesn¡¯t look like I¡¯m in any immediate danger.

    ¡°If it looks like I¡¯m going to get seriously hurt, can you do something to get my attention that won¡¯t get March¡¯s attention?¡±

    A smile and a confident nod accompany two thumbs-up.

    ¡°Thanks for having my back. Gotta go.¡±

    I send my Class Card away before Ursula can turn around to see what¡¯s keeping me. She¡¯s still busy arguing with March about which spawner is technically closest, but it looks like the argument¡¯s winding down.

    ¡°I told you, it doesn¡¯t matter which one¡¯s higher up. Point us to the one that¡¯s closest if it fell completely to the floor.¡± Ursula says with much more detail than before. ¡°That¡¯s the kind of close I¡¯m looking for.¡±

    ¡°Oh. You could¡¯ve said that to start.¡± March sighs, then clacks away on her keyboard. ¡°The closest one just along the ground is fifty degrees to your left and straight ahead. But if you want the closest one including how close it is to the ground, then you¡¯d need to go twelve degrees to your right. Now you can choose for yourself.¡±

    Ursula rolls her eyes and turns to the left. ¡°Cool. I choose this one since I have functioning legs and a bunch of spells. Keep an eye out, Gambler.¡±

    ¡°Will do.¡± I reply and fall in behind Ursula. Or I could call it ¡®using her as a human shield¡¯, but that gives off the wrong vibe. Even if it¡¯s what I¡¯m doing. ¡°How far are you willing to go while we¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a weird question. What¡¯re you referring to?¡±

    I shrug as a particularly small salt cluster crunches under my feet. Looking down reveals a field of tiny salt flowers¨Ceach built like a single clover with the smallest bit of magical light in the middle. And as I trail the flowers up and away, everything fits into place. These aren¡¯t flats at all¨Cwe¡¯re trampling a field of clover with every step.

    ¡°How much magic are you going to put into this?¡± I clarify. ¡°Like, if something shows up that you¡¯d have to make way too much noise to kill, are we going to run? Or are we going to push through and hope it doesn¡¯t draw too much attention?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that? Haven¡¯t really decided yet.¡± Ursula scratches her neck with a wince as the magic around her does¡­ something. ¡°I guess if it really comes down to it, if we find something that needs that much firepower, we¡¯re probably not gonna be able to run. So¡­ yeah. Sure.¡±

    She looks over her shoulder to gauge my reaction. I don¡¯t feel like there¡¯s anything too obvious on my face, but she nods and turns back like she¡¯s found what she wants. Maybe a completely flat reaction was the right thing there? Hell if I know.

    ¡°There¡¯s always the relocation option if you get too worried.¡± I offer halfheartedly.

    Now that¨Cthat must¡¯ve come through loud and clear. Because Ursula bursts out laughing. And she doesn¡¯t stop as a new barrage of salt cannonballs appears on the edge of my reduced awareness.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t that funny.¡± I sigh and gesture off in the direction of the cannonballs. ¡°Eight so far. Looks like more are coming, though.¡±

    Ursula wipes away a thin layer of tears with one hand as she swings her rifle around. ¡°Wasn¡¯t what you said, sister¨Cit¡¯s how you said it. Almost like I told you we were about to walk into the chambers of major inconveniences. Eight still?¡±

    ¡°Eleven now. All from the direction of the other spawner Architect pointed out.¡± I tap my earpiece three times to warn March. ¡°Do your thing.¡±

    Gunfire and crunching salt clover accompany the first half of our deceptively long journey to the first spawner. More and more flowers pop out of the darkness at random intervals¨Cthick things like pitcher plants, strange things like bleeding hearts, and even one that kind of looks like a cactus tree jutting into the air with massive salt crystal spines. But not a single one of them glows with the inner magic as that first flower. Only the carpet of clover beneath our feet does.

    ¡°What do you think differentiates the glowy ones from the ones that don¡¯t?¡± Ursula asks as she goes in for her third reload since we hit the ground. ¡°Let me rephrase that. What about the krarig makes some of the flowers turn magical while it leaves others dead and dark?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and wipe the cool residue from my magic facemask. ¡°You¡¯re asking me? Seriously?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I like speculating.¡±

    ¡°Well, too bad for you, I¡¯ve got nothing. Maybe once we learn a little more about how this place works I¡¯ll have something for you, but right now, I know as much as you do. Hell, probably a whole lot less.¡± I chuckle and flex all my muscles in a rolling stretch. ¡°Damn, my body feels fine now, but my brain¡¯s got one hell of a fog rolling in. Can you count on yourself for a few minutes?¡±

    ¡°Not without using way too much magic. Tell you what¨Conce we take out this spawner-thing, I¡¯ll get Architect to make us a temporary shelter. You can take a load off and I¡¯ll take some time to analyze how the hell we¡¯re supposed to get to those underground exits.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably a tunnel system.¡± March loudly cuts in, startling the both of us. ¡°Oops. Sorry. I¡¯ve been looking for anything weird, but our instruments can¡¯t punch through the layer of magic salt.¡±

    Ursula clicks her tongue and takes aim towards where I¡¯m pointing. ¡°So there¡¯s a good chance we can¡¯t even get at those exits from this room. That what you¡¯re saying?¡±

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°I dunno. Maybe.¡± March says with the best audio-only interpretation of a shrug I¡¯ve ever heard. ¡°Do science on the spawner. I¡¯ll keep looking.¡±

    ¡°Do that, yeah. Thanks.¡± Ursula says as I tap my earpiece three times. Gunfire rings out, and I lower my hand as a headache really starts to come on strong. ¡°Man, what purpose does this shit serve?¡±

    ¡°Magic bullshit purposes.¡± I reply flatly. ¡°Didn¡¯t you just tell me not to overthink magic things?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but that only applies when you¡¯re seriously trying to make sense of things. You know¨Ceh, screw it. Not worth arguing semantics over.¡± She lowers her gun and scratches her neck. ¡°Can you feel the spawner thing yet?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Hope it¡¯s not out of range.¡±

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s out of range. Or else you¡¯d¡­¡± Ursula groans and smacks her forehead. ¡°Shit, you mean it might be too far up. Architect. We pass the spawner yet?¡±

    ¡°Nope. You might want to look out for falling rocks.¡±

    Ursula and I share a look, then slowly crane our necks skyward. There¡¯s absolutely nothing visible in the darkness, but a quiet gasp and a laugh from Pearl tells me that there¡¯s definitely something there. Something that stopped firing cannonballs at us a while ago so we couldn¡¯t find it.

    ¡°That¡¯s annoying as shit.¡± I mutter to myself as I cross my arms. ¡°Don¡¯t know why I thought the spawners would have a little more magic to ¡®em. So we could actually see them. Mercenary, how high can you jump?¡±

    She narrows her eyes to try and focus on whatever¡¯s up there in the darkness. From how she grumbles to herself about how March might¡¯ve had a point, it looks like the answer is ¡®not that high¡¯. Her briefcase pops out of nowhere and she reaches into it to rummage around for a few seconds, then grabs onto something with an ¡®a-ha!¡¯.

    Out comes a thick, circular metallic frame with interlaced magical fibers creating a lattice inside. She flicks it once to get five legs to fold down, sets it on the ground, and confidently nods down at the magical trampoline. Then she looks over to me.

    ¡°You want to, or should I?¡±

    I stare at her for a few seconds until she gets the message. ¡°I¡¯ll die.¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily. But yeah, unless you use some Worth, you¡¯d probably die. Just wanted to give you the chance in case you wanted the thrill.¡± She grins and steps onto the trampoline, giving the fibers a few test bounces that send her a few feet into the air with no effort at all. ¡°Just as bouncy as I remember it. Here¨Cjust in case something happens before I get back on the ground.¡±

    She reaches into her briefcase one more time, pulls out the revolver from before, and reloads it before tossing it to me. I catch it, test the sight, and nod at her.

    ¡°I have no idea how to use this.¡±

    ¡°Aim, steady, pull.¡± She points a finger-gun at me and pretends to fire. ¡°Not complicated. There¡¯s a reason any idiot can kill someone with a gun. Just don¡¯t try to reload it¨Cyou¡¯ll do some serious damage due to your lack of mana or cost yourself a good chunk of Worth. Got a feeling you don¡¯t want either of those.¡±

    ¡°No, I do not.¡± I wave Ursula off and lower the gun so the barrel¡¯s facing the ground. ¡°Yell if something¡¯s going to fall on me.¡±

    Ursula nods, then taps her earpiece once. ¡°You hear that, Architect?¡±

    ¡°Loud and clear.¡± March confirms, her voice getting further and further away as she speaks.

    ¡°Wish me luck.¡±

    ¡°Good luck.¡±

    Ursula¡¯s smile widens at that, and she bends her knees the next time she comes down on the trampoline. It stretches down, down, down, and down some more until only her head is visible outside of the frame. Not sure sure how that works, since the legs were only like two feet tall, but it¡¯s more of that magic bullshit I guess. She raises her eyebrows in excitement and waves one hand at me.

    Magic swells. The air around me spirals and condenses towards the trampoline. In a burst of shimmering red-orange that shreds all the fibers to ribbons, Ursula explodes upwards and soars into the sky. Everything happens so fast that it takes me a second to register that I¡¯m staring at a now broken trampoline, which disintegrates into magic particulate as I crane my neck ceiling-ward to see where the hell it sent her.

    She¡¯s¡­ perfectly visible. Dangling from something that¡¯s not perfectly visible at all. For the briefest of moments I think she¡¯s going to fall due to how much she¡¯s swaying back and forth, but then she lets go with one hand and shoots me the world¡¯s smallest thumbs-up. I roll my eyes and focus back on the potential dangers as she scurries up whatever she¡¯s on, scanning the darkened horizon for cannonballs or¨C

    Something plummets into my awareness. Then crashes to the ground right next to me with enough force to send me staggering away with a heart beating a mile a minute and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I snap to the mass of salt and¡­ holes¡­ as Ursula stands triumphantly atop it with a shattered crystalline stem still white-knuckled in her right hand.

    ¡°Thought you were going to warn me.¡± I say as calmly as possible while my heart insists I scream bloody murder at her. ¡°That wasn¡¯t much of a warning.¡±

    Ursula shrugs apologetically. ¡°Sorry. Didn¡¯t think it would snap so easily.¡± She pauses, then looks up as a dribble of molten salt lands on her shoulder. ¡°Ouch. Uh, maybe don¡¯t stand so close. Gimme a hand moving this sunflower bastard.¡±

    Sunflower? I lean in a little to get my hands around a petal, and sure enough, the damn thing looks like a massive sunflower. But like¡­ a combination between the drying one with all the exposed seeds and a perfectly thriving huge bastard. All made of salt crystal of course, and without a single droplet of magic to explain how the hell it was firing shit at us. No pollen like the first flower, either.

    ¡°What do you make of this?¡± Ursula grunts as she hefts it up and onto her shoulders, completely bypassing my need to even be here. ¡°Almost looks like dead scenery, not something that should be shooting shit at us.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ kind of exacly what I made of it.¡± I say as Ursula carries the thing all of ten feet, then snaps off the stem and flips it so the thing¡¯s cannonball-seeds up. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know what it could do, I¡¯d think it just dropped the cannonballs on us. How the hell did it control those things?¡±

    ¡°This time, I don¡¯t think ¡®magic bullshit¡¯ can explain it.¡± Ursula reaches down and pulls out a cannonball. It comes free without any resistance. ¡°...Huh. That¡¯s light as shit. Pretty sure all those impacts we saw don¡¯t equate to these things being light as shit. Architect, can you send over that shelter I commissioned you for a few minutes ago?¡±

    A five-foot tall pillar blinks into being, followed by a shimmering magical barrier that emanates from complex runes written into it. Ursula frowns at it and crosses her arms, then clears her throat when nothing happens. More runes join the others, and the barrier expands to create a thirty-foot wide safe space.

    ¡°Perfect, thank you.¡± She says and pulls the rest of the sunflower into the barrier. ¡°It¡¯ll keep away the cannonballs?¡±

    ¡°For two hours.¡± March confirms. ¡°After that, you¡¯ll have until the magic in the runes runs out. Maybe another five minutes if you¡¯re lucky.¡±

    ¡°Two hours. Gotcha.¡± Ursula repeats. ¡°Definitely not enough to sleep in. Gambler, you want to take a nap? Or do you want to get hands-on with this salty sunflower with little old me?¡±

    I sit down with a grunt and lean back against the pillar. ¡°Nap first. Wake me up in an hour.¡±

    ¡°Will do. I¡¯ll try to save some interesting discoveries for when you¡¯re awake, but no promises.¡±

    I roll my eyes, then slowly close them as I force my awareness to ignore the cannonballs that are inevitably going to slam into the barrier. It curls up into a near little compartment in my head, spreads out through my entire brain, and finally unleashes the fatigue it¡¯s built up. Waves of discomfort and mental exhaustion wash over me like a fetid tide, but before I can struggle to fall asleep, Pearl knocks on something to get my attention.

    She mouths something. It takes a few tries, since I¡¯m not exactly a master at reading lips, but I¡¯m pretty sure she says ¡®goodnight¡¯?

 Chapter 68: Carpet of Flowers

    My eyelids flutter lazily as the sound of¡­ something¡­ draws me from¡­ sleep? I frown and smack my lips, look around, and slowly come to terms with whatever Pearl did to knock me out right away. Suddenly and without warning, the grogginess is ripped away and the complete alertness of awakeness takes me.

    I blink in surprise, then offer Pearl a quick nod of thanks. She smiles and returns it twofold.

    One of the parts of the barrier flashes a deep red. I glance over at it and catch the tail end of something disappearing below the clover in a spray of molten salt. It almost looked like a reptilian tail, but made completely out of glass and metal.

    ¡°The apocalypse finally caught up to us?¡± I ask as I take the few steps to Ursula, then gesture down at a half-dissected salt sunflower. ¡°Any luck?¡±

    She shakes her head without looking up from her work. ¡°I¡¯ve found a few things, but none of them offer any good explanations. Take a sit; maybe you can see something I missed.¡±

    ¡°Sure. Doubt it, but sure.¡±

    I fold my legs underneath me and drop down to the ground. Ursula¡¯s cut the sunflower head in half perfectly down the middle like an apple, and she put one half off to the side to be¡­ preserved, or something. The other is surrounded by tools I don¡¯t know the use for, rests atop a silvery platform, and is in enough pieces to make a puzzle jealous.

    ¡°Huh.¡± I lean in and study the thing a little closer. ¡°Aside from the cannonball seeds and the petals, it looks like one solid mass. Is that normal for elementals?¡±

    ¡°For elementals? No, not at all. But for formations created by magic? Yeah.¡± She picks up a cannonball with a grunt and offers it to me. ¡°It¡¯s one solid thing except for a tiny column right down the middle where the stem was. There¡¯s the smallest trickle of magic in there¨Cnowhere near enough to do anything serious, and not enough to let it sense that anything was in the room. Hell, it wasn¡¯t even enough to light up through the darkness.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Does that mean anything?¡± I ask as I stretch one hand to accept the cannonball.

    She sighs and grabs my other hand, then presses the cannonball into both of them without letting go. ¡°My best guess is that it was some kind of connection. Another elemental giving commands to the sunflower from somewhere we can¡¯t get to right now. It could be below us, above us, or even in someplace we physically can¡¯t get to.¡±

    ¡°That would be a¨CHurgh!¡± I grunt in surprise as the Ursula lets go of the cannonball, which plummets to the metal platform as if it were being pulled by a super magnet. ¡°What the hell? Did the flower dying make these super heavy?¡±

    ¡°First thing I checked. But no¨Cthe flower¡¯s death has nothing to do with it. Try moving the cannonball off this little platform here.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow in curiosity, then roll the cannonball off the platform. When it reaches the edge, something seems to overtake it. The slightest shimmer of magic, but in a way that I can only notice it thanks to the fact that it was missing before. And instead of falling to crush a bunch of salt clovers, the cannonball keeps lazily rolling with the exact same momentum as I¡¯d pushed it with.

    Hovering a few inches off the clovers.

    ¡°Are the clovers making a¡­ repulsion field?¡± I ask as I watch the cannonball slowly roll away before snatching it up again. Now it¡¯s lighter than a feather, but knowing it''s true weight, I can see how it¡¯d do all that damage.

    ¡°Again, that was my first thought. I tried out a few things¨Cpushing one of ¡®em to the ground, tossing it up in the air, and spinning it in place to see how long it took to stop.¡± She points over my shoulder, and I turn to see a cannonball spinning rapidly in place. ¡°Still hasn¡¯t stopped yet. Haven¡¯t been able to rule out magical repulsion, but a gut feeling tells me that isn¡¯t quite right. I¡¯ve got Architect looking up the magical makeup of the clover, sunflower, and cannonballs, but she¡¯s still working on it. Isn¡¯t that right?¡±

    ¡°Only for the last forty five minutes.¡± March grumbles with more than a hint of boredom in her voice. ¡°I haven¡¯t been able to find anything other than ¡®salt¡¯, ¡®magic¡¯, and ¡®apocalypse¡¯. It¡¯s pretty frustrating.¡±

    ¡°See? She¡¯s working on it.¡±

    March sighs in frustration and goes right back to being silent. A smirk graces Ursula¡¯s face for a fraction of a second, but it¡¯s gone just as quickly as it came.

    ¡°So¡­ uh¡­ what do we do with this?¡± I ask and poke the cannonball a little higher into the air. ¡°Seems like we can¡¯t do much of anything about the cannonballs. And if they¡¯re being controlled from somewhere outside of the room, we can¡¯t even go after whatever¡¯s controlling them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what it looks like, yeah.¡± Ursula agrees. ¡°We¡¯ve got another hour to go before we have to leave, though, so we might as well get as deep into this thing as we can. Take up a pick and help me break this bitch into chunks.¡±

    <hr>

    I spin the pick around in my hand, then drop it down on the silver platform. Thirty minutes to completely dismantle what Ursula hadn¡¯t already dismantled, and what do we have to show for it? A bunch of salt crystals that¨Cif you squint really hard¨Cyou could imagine once looked like a flower. Absolutely nothing to set it apart from anything of the other salt in this place.

    ¡°Done here.¡± I look over my shoulder at Ursula, who¡¯s working on taking apart another cannonball in search of anything at all. ¡°Number eight have anything different than the other seven?¡±

    She quirks a smile on one side of her mouth. ¡°You think I¡¯d be standing here quietly if I found anything?¡±

    ¡°Probably not, no. Half an hour to go.¡± I pull out my Class Card to check if the salt¡¯s given me any debuffs, then send it away with a shake of my head. ¡°Man, this is a disappointment. All this salt breaking and we know basically nothing more than when we were completely in the dark.¡±

    ¡°Yup. Not fun when this happens, but it happens with magic way more than you¡¯d think. No specifics for censorship¡¯s sake, but Banker and I thought we hit the motherlode one time in magical gemstones. Then we tried to take them out of their quarry, and they quite literally evaporated.¡±

    I frown and tilt my head to the side. ¡°Evaporated? Literally evaporated?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm. In our hands one second, and rising in the air the next.¡± She confirms with a fond chuckle. ¡°We went back to that place a dozen times to try different ways to get the materials out. Putting ¡®em in our inventories, keeping ¡®em in containers climate controlled to be exactly the same as the quarry, even exploring way deeper to find some kind of magical lodestone keeping ¡®em solid.¡±

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    She shakes her head and lets the chunks of cannonball fall to the ground. ¡°Nothing we did worked. Finally we tried bringing in a jeweler and a blacksmith to make equipment in the quarry itself, but the second we walked outta there, only the gemstones disappeared. Even when we worked ¡®em into a metal to create a weird alloy. The magic just didn¡¯t want us to have it.¡±

    ¡°Wow. That¡¯s bullshit.¡± I cross my arms and move to lean against the pillar. ¡°So you think that¡¯s what we¡¯ve got here? A problem we¡¯re trying to solve that doesn¡¯t have a solution?¡±

    ¡°Could be. Or we¡¯re looking at one problem and completely overlooking another. Back to the example¨Cabout two years later, we went back with Architect and Merchant. They tried a few new things we hadn¡¯t thought of, and after a week of nothing, Architect found a cave entrance that definitely hadn¡¯t been there before. We went in, found a quest and a dungeon, but there was one annoying-ass stipulation.¡±

    Ursula dusts off her pants and swings her gun around to the front. She locks eyes with me, then nods over at the half sunflower. ¡°You got space for that in your inventory?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Nothing¡¯s changed since we got here.¡±

    ¡°Hey, it might¡¯ve.¡± She walks over to the half sunflower, puts her hand on it, and puts it into her inventory. ¡°You never know what kind of bullshit¡¯s going to give you a reward. Architect, we¡¯re pulling out early. Have another one of these pillars at the ready for next time we need a break.¡±

    ¡°I already made three of them.¡± March informs us. ¡°Will you need more than that?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Keep a stockpile of three no matter what, please.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I can do that.¡±

    ¡°Thank you very much.¡± Ursula nods, then bends down to grab her revolver that I left on the ground. She presses it into my hands as she tilts her head towards a particularly bright patch of salt clover. ¡°We¡¯re gonna kill that thing and see if it gives us any clues. Your brain in a good place right now?¡±

    ¡°As good as it¡¯s going to get. You didn¡¯t finish, though.¡±

    Ursula frowns and tilts her head slightly. ¡°Didn¡¯t finish what?¡±

    ¡°You¡­ your story. You cut off right before you told me the annoying stipulation.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Right. Got sidetracked a little there.¡± She chuckles apologetically. ¡°So, there we were, standing around as we read the quest description. Can¡¯t tell you anything about that. But at the very bottom¨Cright under the actual objective¨Cwas a single line of text. One that would¡¯ve made everything impossible if we hadn¡¯t done all that pointless research beforehand.¡±

    I sigh in impatience and pretend to tap a watch I don¡¯t have.

    Ursula rolls her eyes. ¡°We¡¯ve got time, don¡¯t be a diva. Well, that stipulation was extremely important¨Cbecause we couldn¡¯t use anything resilient to go into the dungeon and complete the quest. Every single thing we had on us¨Cclothes, weapons, even food¨Chad to be easily destructible. Things like tissue paper pants, spun sugar desserts, that kind of thing. And weapons made out of a crystal so strong it could deflect a bullet without a scratch, yet so delicate that it dissolved when not in its absolutely ideal conditions.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ what? The gemstones were literally only there for quest reasons? That almost sounds too video-gamey to be real.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it wasn¡¯t video-gamey. It¡¯s just that the aura in the dungeon completely obliterated anything the system didn¡¯t deem ¡®fragile¡¯. We¡¯re pretty damn sure the system didn¡¯t put that aura there, either¨Cjust that the quest description warned us of it before we tried to go down there and lost a bunch of hyper-valuable stuff.¡±

    The barrier flickers as Ursula taps it with her knuckles, then winks out completely as she scratches one of the runes through with a fingernail. She raises her gun and fires off a few much quieter bullets towards the glowing spot, then gestures for me to take a few steps back. I don¡¯t hesitate in taking that freebie.

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just stupid, but I don¡¯t really see how that connects to our issue at hand.¡± I say as I steady the revolver at the heavy glow. ¡°Unless the point of the story was that some things don¡¯t make any sense until you have one specific piece of information that ties it all together.¡±

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s a damn good summary. Almost one-to-one with what I was trying to get at.¡±

    Oh. Well, then I guess her little story was pretty effective.

    ¡°There¡¯s one more thing I tried to get through, though; something that seems amazingly powerful can turn out to be useless, and something completely useless can turn out to be important in some very specific scenarios.¡± Ursula adds calmly as the stain of magic light darts towards her. ¡°Could be that all the salt here is magically sensitive and we¡¯re just missing a catalyst. Or we¡¯ve picked up something utterly useless that¡¯s only good for seasoning food or melting ice. But we won¡¯t find out until we¡¯ve delved a little deeper.¡±

    Bulging clover heralds the emergence of whatever lurks below. It makes a move towards Ursula, then veers off at the last second and makes a beeline at me. I scrunch up my face in annoyance and push a spell into a ghost quarter I really don¡¯t want to spend, then let my awareness out ever so slightly to get the timing perfectly right.

    ¡°Sh¨CGambler!¡± Ursula slips ever so slightly as she calls out my ¡®name¡¯. ¡°I¡¯ll¨C¡±

    The clover bursts out from under my feet, revealing a set of long jaws with jagged metal and glass teeth. I smack my foot into the less sharp side and push myself away while clutching my coin¨Creally wish I¡¯d put a projectile into it instead of shield. Maybe one good shot would¡¯ve been enough.

    ¡°I¡¯m good!¡± I call out as I catch myself in an awkward half-stand that I quickly maneuver into normalcy. ¡°What the hell do you think turned into¡­¡±

    A giant, low to the ground body of metal follows the jaws up into the air like a cresting dolphin. If a dolphin had a horrible child with a pile of scrap metal and the biggest damn alligator I¡¯ve ever laid eyes on. The thing must be twenty-five feet from tooth to tail, only two feet tall, and a good five feet wide. Most of it is made of metal, save for the glass teeth and luminescent eyes filled with the glow of apocalyptic magic, but there¡¯s a distinct corkscrew pattern running down its back. And a few ragged pieces of colourful somethings flutter from those corkscrews like ruined banners.

    Chip bags and candy wrappers. Even if some of the brands haven¡¯t been made in almost a decade, I¡¯d recognize the combination of silver and colour anywhere. The vendigator lets out a deep bellow that has a little bit of electronic beeping woven into it, opens its mouth slightly, and rushes me.

    Salt clings to its legs as it moves. But it doesn¡¯t hinder the thing¡¯s motion¨Cit creeps up its limbs and solidifies instantly in what looks like natural plating. I grimace at just how fast the damn thing is and snap my shield out of my fingers, creating a small rectangle of extremely dense magic from the ground up to my thighs. The vendigator smashes into it mouth-first, steel and glass shrieking horribly against my coinbound magic, and the moment, it looks like we¡¯re at a standstill. Thank goodness the thing isn¡¯t smart enough to move four feet to either side.

    Stubby legs shatter clover in a shockwave around each foot as the thing launches itself into the air from a completely stopped position. I watch in confused awe as it soars upwards five, ten, fifteen, and even further, slowly losing speed until it hangs a good thirty feet in the air like a novelty parade balloon.

    ¡°I¨Cwhat¨Chow?¡± I stammer and back up as Ursula sprints to get to my side. ¡°No. There¡¯s no way. Did the damn clover do this?!¡±

    Both of us stare up at the hanging vendigator for a good thirty seconds before either of us say anything else. It wiggles its feet helplessly and tries to orient itself to snap at us, but it propelled itself a little too high for that. Salt which was previously only stuck to its feet in large crystal clumps starts to ooze over the rest of its body, crystallizing in strange jagged formations that look anything but natural.

    ¡°It¡¯s almost like the salt thinks it¡¯s an elemental.¡± Ursula murmurs in disbelief. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like this before. And¡­ the only reason it flew so high this time is because it has all that salt stuck to it. Which means the clover is definitely making the salt much lighter somehow, while still keeping its destructive mass.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°So what does that mean for the fight? Do we try to keep it alive?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no. It¡¯s incredibly dangerous and beyond stupid to try and research live apocalyptic creations.¡± Ursula aims her gun at the huge floating target. Which seems to be getting closer by the second. ¡°All it means is that I¡¯m going to have a lot less free inventory space after this.¡±

 Chapter 69: Vending Violence

    All at once, the salt stops spreading. What was previously molten solidifies into crystals that glow with inner magic, and the vendigator plummets without warning. Ursula and I jump back to avoid the spray of salt, with bullets peppering the salty carapace to little effect. The vendigator snaps its mouth shut and looses a noise from deep in its throat, then splints directly at Ursula.

    She hops to the side to avoid it, then spins into a slash with a knife that appears in her hand. A spray of salt and sparks brightens the dark for a split second.

    ¡°Shit, that¡¯s tough!¡± She calls out as her hands find her gun once more, the knife now nowhere to be found. ¡°Gambler! You¡¯re holding the better hole-maker, so once I get this plating off, you make holes!¡±

    That¡¯s one way to tell me to shoot the damn thing. I nod and steady the revolver with both hands, feeling the knife on my arm squirm against the strong influence of Ursula¡¯s magic. My awareness probes at the gun and comes back completely blank¨Csomehow, she¡¯s made it completely airtight to magic. I¡¯ll have to ask her how she did that when the time is right.

    I trail the vendigator as Ursula dodges, shoots, and runs. Not always in that order. As I watch, something slowly starts to form in my mind. The thing¡­ might just be dumb as a pile of bricks. It doesn¡¯t use the newfound weightlessness to move any faster, it hasn¡¯t dove into the salt since it surfaced, and it¡¯s kind of just charging Ursula over and over again. No adjustment for a strategy that obviously isn¡¯t working.

    ¡°Hey, is this thing kind of¡­ not all there?¡±

    Ursula manages to shrug as she dives out of the way of yet another open-mouth charge. ¡°I¡­ actually, now that you mention it, this thing is pretty damn repetitive. Aren''t these things usually ambush predators?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how alligators work. Or¡­ crocodiles. Whichever animal this is based off of.¡± I take my finger off the side of the revolver and place it on the trigger. ¡°You¡¯ve got the right side almost completely shattered. Focus your fire there.¡±

    ¡°On it.¡± She states while standing her ground. When the vendigator charges her once again, because that¡¯s apparently all it can do, she dodges to the left and lets loose a salvo of magical ammo into its right side. ¡°Go!¡±

    Salt falls away in chunks, revealing that the metal underneath has barely taken any damage. From the bullets, at least¨Cthere¡¯s significant rust and pitting that definitely wasn¡¯t there before. Probably damage from the magical salt, but if that¡¯s the case¡­ is the stuff not trying to amplify the monster? Is it trying to kill it just like it was trying to kill us?

    ¡°Gambler!¡± Ursula calls, drawing my attention back to the moment at hand. ¡°Hold your fire!¡±

    I move my finger off the trigger and nod. ¡°You see what I see?¡±

    She nods. ¡°Actually killing this thing could be a huge mistake. I¡¯ll get Architect to send over another pillar, and we can¨C¡±

    BOOM! BOOM! CRACK!

    Cacophonous explosions put an abrupt end to Ursula¡¯s statement. March squeals in discomfort to the sound of something clattering to the ground, and the entire room lights up like a mall christmas tree on December first. Molten magical light bleeds down from the ceiling to fill each individual sunflower with more than enough magic to make ten elementals jealous, and in turn, the cannonballs inside of them start to glow with miniature supernovas of molten salt.

    Even the one Ursula snapped off lets loose a deluge of molten magcal salt, cascading down to the clover below. Covering the vendigator almost instantly, leaving it encased in a rapidly harending crystal that pulses with a vicious magical heartbeat. Ursula and I share a befuddled look before we back away from the flow, which pours off the crystal and pools around it in an ever growing mass of magic.

    ¡°Nothing good can come from this.¡± Ursula mutters as she finds her way to my side. ¡°I was wondering why the sunflowers stopped firing for a while. Guess this is why.¡±

    Pulses of magic roll off the vendigator like pleas for help. I cross my arms and step back even more as Ursula puts herself between me and the monster; something¡¯s wrong here. Something seriously wrong. It¡¯s pretty damn obvious the salt isn¡¯t trying to help the monster. So what is it trying to do? What¡¯ll happen when it¡¯s done with the vendigator? Will it turn right back around and go for us again?

    And¡­ were we not dangerous enough? Why specifically the vendigator? What triggered the salt to go for it that we didn¡¯t set off?

    ¡°Eyes on the prize, Gambler.¡± Ursula warns. The pulses come closer and closer together, then start to break apart into strands of magical desperation. ¡°Whatever the salt¡¯s doing, it¡¯s almost done. Don¡¯t let it catch you off guard.¡±

    It won¡¯t. My awareness makes sure of it, but explaining that fact to Ursula would bring up a few things I¡¯m not ready to talk about. So I put on a face of utter concentration while my mind wanders with myriad possibilities.

    Pearl frowns and puts both of her hands together. She laces her fingers then opens and closes her hands, pivoting at her wrists, like a set of snapping jaws. With every snap she slows the movement, until she stops completely with her hands in an open position. Her eyes open wide, and she stares intently at me. Like she¡¯s trying to get something through without saying anything.

    I¡¯ve got no idea what it is. But I guess I have to be on the lookout.

    Magic dies out suddenly and without fanfare. The vendigator¡¯s eyes blink out, leaving the body an empty husk as the apocalyptic magic just¡­ disappears. Ursula reaches out an arm to keep me from moving forward, but she¡¯s still a few feet away from touching me. She doesn¡¯t put it down as the salt begins to tremble, magic flowing up from the ground into the crystal with a slow but constant pace.

    It completely concentrates the large chunk of salt, nearly obscuring the vendigator inside with the raw light of molten magic. Swirls and angular patterns etch themselves into the vendigator¡¯s rapidly rusting body, damaging it so severely that it barely looks like the same thing from a moment ago. After a pattern is made the salt doesn¡¯t leave¨Cit embeds itself in the monster. Creating a mixture between a work of pop art and scrap metal thrown on a slum¡¯s riverside.

    Understanding dawns on me as salt works its way into the vendigator¡¯s eye sockets, pushing the glass lights out of the way to make room for crystallized salt. The entire body shudders and twitches unnaturally, like roadkill bulging with parasites, and the salt mound begins to crack. Slowly at first, spilling molten salt and chunks of crystal, but the shuddering quickly turns to thrashing as the vendigator throws away the pieces of its prison.

    ¡°Never heard of a machine zombie before, but I guess there¡¯s a first time for everything.¡± Ursula chuckles morbidly. ¡°Got a bad feeling this one will know how to make the most of the salt. Be careful if it knows how to prioritize targets too.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t have to worry about that. It¡¯ll go for you first.¡± I grin and summon another Worth, which I quickly convert to a single skeletal ghost quarter. ¡°You make an opening. I want to see if something still works on Earth.¡±

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Ursula looks quizzically over her shoulder. An explosion of salt snaps her right back to the matter at hand. She raises her gun and peppers the salt-infused vendigator the moment it''s visible, but wherever the bullets hit, salt rolls off other parts of its body and concentrates on the targeted area. And the moment she stops, it all goes right back to coating the thing in a thick layer of plated armor. It stares at her with molten salt eyes for the briefest of moments, then launches itself at her with jaws wide.

    The thing¡¯s movements aren¡¯t even comparable to what they were before. It twists in midair as Ursula tries to dodge, slamming its tail into her shoulder and sending her crashing to the ground in the same motion that it reorients itself to strike the moment it hits the ground. And hit the ground it does; as if gravity suddenly grew a hundred times heavier just for it the thing crashes into the clover in the blink of an eye, then charges the moment all its feet hit the ground.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Ursula cries as she raises her gun to defend herself, sticking it inside of encroaching jaws to keep them pried open.

    It doesn¡¯t stop the vendigator¡¯s charge. All of its weight crashes into Ursula head-first, sending the two of them in a salt-spraying crash that leaves a good fifteen foot impact crater. I blink away the surprise from the act that lasted all of three seconds, raise my gun, and hone my awareness at the cloud of magical salt dust where the sounds of a metallic clash ring out from.

    ¡°Aaurrgh! You motherless bastard!¡± Ursula cries out in pain. A deep, fleshy thud rings the vendigator like a gong, and it goes tumbling through the air like a badly thrown frisbee.

    I watch it tumble for less than a second before my brain kicks in and reminds me that I¡¯m not just a bystander here. And that I¡¯ve got less than a few seconds before it recovers to charge again. My skeletal ghost quarter rests gently in my palm as I break into a sprint to get to Ursula, who limps out of the cloud of salt with blood dripping down her left arm and a few nasty gashes all over her ripped clothes.

    She smiles bitterly when she sees my face. ¡°That bad, huh?¡±

    ¡°Not that bad.¡± I say seriously, which seems to surprise her. ¡°Just haven¡¯t seen you get seriously hurt yet. Speaking of, how¡¯d that thing do any damage to you? Shouldn¡¯t your stats and spells have prevented this?¡±

    ¡°Not now. Later.¡± She insists and reaches out with her good arm to point at the vendigator. ¡°We need to get rid of this before it can get worse.¡±

    Worse? Honestly, I can¡¯t really see this getting much worse. Just the vendigator part, I mean¨Cthere could always be more of them, but this one in particular feels like it¡¯s reached how strong it¡¯s going to get. Any more salt and the body will rust away, and any less salt makes it completely dead. But the look in Ursula¡¯s eye tells a different story. Plus she¡¯s got a lot more experience with this, so I¡¯ll default to her this time.

    ¡°Alright.¡± I lean in and take one of her arms over my shoulder. ¡°What¡¯re we doing?¡±

    She nods appreciatively and gestures towards the one visible exit. ¡°We make for there. As long as the sunflowers don¡¯t start raining cannonballls down on us again, we should be able to safely make it. Then you can teleport us out.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow, but start moving anyway. Ursula uses my shoulder to steady her aim and fires off a burst at the vendigator, which causes her entire right side to twitch violently. She hisses in pain and lowers her gun, then lets the gun drop and summons her briefcase instead. Except this time, it doesn¡¯t appear instantly. It takes a half-second to form.

    ¡°Shit, it¡¯s spreading faster than I thought.¡± She mutters as she awkwardly fishes around in her briefcase.

    I take aim with the revolver and fire off two quick shots aimed directly at the thing¡¯s eyes. They hit their marks perfectly, and salt crystals sprout up to protect the thing. A moment¡¯s distraction is all it buys us, but that¡¯s one moment the thing isn¡¯t flying through the air or charging us.

    ¡°I thought you said we had to kill this thing.¡± I point out as I trail the vendigator with my eyes. ¡°What happened to that?¡±

    Ursula grumbles something under her breath and shakes her head. ¡°Nothing happened to that. But I¡¯m about to lose the use of mana for the foreseeable future, and we need to prepare for that inevitability. We¡¯ll come back tomorrow and finish it off for good.¡±

    The vendigator shakes off my crystalling annoyance and stares me down. I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s royally pissed or a little impressed with my accuracy¨Cor if I¡¯m just deluding myself into thinking the magically altered machine has the capacity for emotions. Or¡­ thoughts in general. It takes a half-step back and tenses its back legs, and I fire a single shot aimed at its back right foot. Just enough to set it slightly off balance, so its charge goes a little wide and it has to adjust as it flies past us and its tail just barely misses scraping my ear.

    ¡°Nice shots.¡±

    Ursula finally raises her hand from the briefcase. In it she holds a glass vial filled to the brim with a chaotic red liquid that constantly shifts between shades, tones, and consistencies. She pops a rubber stopper with her thumb and raises the tiny vial to her lips, downing it in a quick shot. I can see the glowing liquid make its way down her throat from the outside, and when it finally hits her stomach, it branches out to the far reaches of her entire body like another visible circulatory system.

    She winces and shakes her head, then pushes off of me. ¡°Damn, I hate that stuff. We gotta hurry. I¡¯ve only got about an hour before this debuff cuts me off completely.¡±

    I knit my eyebrows into a frown. ¡°You¡¯re actually serious? We¡¯re just going to leave this thing here overnight without any assurance it¡¯s going to be here in the morning?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan, yeah.¡± She confirms with a nod. ¡°I get that it sounds dumb as hell, but this debuff is a really strong one. Once it takes hold, I won¡¯t be able to use mana for at least a week. So we gotta prepare for the rest of this delve over the next hour, which we can¡¯t do if we¡¯re avoiding a vendigator for the entire time.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s¡­ just plain moronic. If there¡¯s any kind of hivemind among these things, letting the vendigator live could be the worst mistake of all. Sure, I get why Ursula wants to regroup, but leaving this thing alive could make teleporting back tomorrow a death sentence. I¡­ no. I¡¯m not letting this thing live to see the sunrise.

    I turn to her and toss her the revolver. ¡°See you in an hour.¡±

    She cocks her head to the side. ¡°What¡¯re you¨C¡±

    Relocation flares. A coin in the process of being used up takes her place. March yelps in surprise. Probably because Ursula¡¯s swearing her head off about me sending her away.

    ¡°Tell Mercenary that she shouldn¡¯t be underestimating me so much.¡± I say as I turn to face an unfazed and very aggressive vendigator. ¡°And tell her to do all the preparations she can. I''ll join her when this thing¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°Sh¨CGambler?!¡± March says in confusion. ¡°Why are¡­ how is¡­ it¡¯s hard to read two maps at once.¡±

    That¡¯s her biggest problem with this? I roll my eyes, then roll my shoulder as the vendigator tenses up once more. Ursula thought this would take a long time. Long enough that she¡¯d bite into valuable preparation time with the both of us working together to take it down. I¡¯m going to savour every second of proving her wrong.

    ¡°Well?¡± I spread my arms, making myself an even bigger target. ¡°I¡¯m waiting.¡±

    Another ghost quarter fills my hand, and I flip it as quickly as possible before filling both of them with relocation. The vendigator menacingly waddles in my direction, then snaps into a lunge with the aid of the salt and clover. In one quick motion I flick one relocation into its open mouth and the other under it. Its jaws close in at a terrifying pace, only matched by the speed of my awareness, and I bend over backwards to give my coins a few more milliseconds to fly.

    The first hits the back of the vendigator¡¯s throat. The second catches on a clover and stops a little short of where I wanted it to land. But it¡¯ll have to do. I snap the second¡¯s activation and feel myself get pulled to the coin¡¯s position. My back blossoms in pain as the jagged metal of the vendigator¡¯s tail scratches a bloody line across it as a consolation prize.

    ¡°Ow.¡±

    I grimace, then turn to look over my shoulder as the thing twists unnaturally in midair and lands hard. Salt sprays in an unnatural screen, attempting to hide the vendigator from view. My awareness pierces it effortlessly.

    Before I can breathe, it¡¯s readying to launch. A wicked grin spreads across my face, and I hold up the skeletal quarter so the vendigator can see it. If there¡¯s even a shred of consciousness in there, I want it to know who killed it.

    A stationary projectile flows down from my mind. The coin shivers in an unsuccessful attempt to restrain the spell. It won¡¯t last more than a second¨Cdefinitely not enough to catch something as fast as the vendigator.

    Except I already caught it.

    The coin flickers out of my hand, replaced with the disappearing form of one soaked in molten salt and grease. Deep in the belly of the vendigator a four Worth and unstable skeletal coin empowered projectile roars violently to life.

 Chapter 70: Horrendous Purification

    When the roar dies out, nothing but a crater remains.

    ¡°Gambler?! What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±

    I flinch at Ursula¡¯s voice ringing in my ears. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re the one that wanted to let the thing live. Not my fault you couldn¡¯t see me killing it.¡±

    She pauses. ¡°Is that a philosophical thing, or an ¡®I already killed it and you didn¡¯t get to see¡¯ thing?¡±

    ¡°First the philosophy, then the other one.¡± I chuckle and kneel down at the edge of the massive perfectly rounded hole. ¡°It¡¯s dead, in case that wasn¡¯t obvious enough. Nothing left of it to research, which might¡¯ve been an oversight, and I¡¯ll take responsibility for that.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ you¡­ haah.¡± Ursula sighs, and I can hear her hand run through her hair. ¡°Alright. We need to have a serious talk about what you¡¯re actually capable of. Starting with how you actually killed the dragonjet, since I¡¯m pretty damn sure I assumed some incorrect-ass details. But that starts with an apology for not doing this weeks ago. So¨Csorry for not treating you like the asset you obviously are.¡±

    I lace my fingers together down between my knees. That apology feels¡­ really good to hear. Like, really, really good. Not sure why. But it does.

    ¡°Apology accepted.¡± I say quietly and push myself to my feet. ¡°I¡¯ll be there as soon as I find a safe-ish place to put a relocation coin here. And¡­ sorry for not telling you what I was going to do.¡±

    ¡°Apology also accepted. Don¡¯t do anything too dangerous, you hear?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything else dangerous, you mean?¡±

    She chuckles lightly. ¡°Yeah, smartass. See ya soon.¡±

    ¡°See you.¡±

    The line goes dead, and the soft background hum of March¡¯s command room replaces it. She doesn¡¯t instantly start talking my ear off, so Ursula must¡¯ve had her permission to override the line. Or March just doesn¡¯t care.

    I summon my Class Card and hold my breath as I flip it open. A few notifications instantly greet me¨Cincluding a message from Clutter¨Cbut the ones I¡¯m actually looking for are right there in magical text.

    Nothing usable remains from this kill.

    20 Worth granted instead.

    Not bad, but definitely not great. What it will do, however, is subsidize me using my spells a little more liberally down here. And if we can find more vendigators, maybe I can build up a little stockpile. But that¡¯s not the only notification.

    Debuff Gained: Horrendous Purification.

    Prevents the use of mana.

    Grants hidden positive effects.

    The wound on my back aches as I read this one. So the debuff was definitely in the vendigator¡¯s attacks, but Ursula didn¡¯t mention any hidden positive effects. I¡¯ll talk to her about that when I relocate to the helicopter.

    I flip through my tabs to see if I missed anything, then tab over to my messages. Clutter¡¯s is the only one I¡¯ve got, and from how short it is, it probably didn¡¯t have to be sent. I tap on it to bring it into focus, then roll my eyes at the ten word message.

    ¡®I¡¯m starting to do things now. Sending another message soon!¡¯

    Hey, at least he sounds happy. And the fact that he¡¯s updating me probably means he¡¯s not going to betray me in the long run. I start to close my card, but another incoming message grabs my attention. This one¡¯s from Clutter, too. Guess he wasn¡¯t kidding about the ¡®soon¡¯ part.

    ¡®Got the quest, but it¡¯s not going to start for a few weeks. Sorry for getting you excited. When I have any more information, I¡¯ll send it your way.¡¯

    ¡®Heard you loud and clear.¡¯ I type to Clutter. ¡®Looking forward to whatever you find out.¡¯

    I send the message and put away my Class Card, then stretch and look out over the salt clover flats. The one visible exit on the other side of the room calls to me with promises of getting to go back to the helicopter, and I¡¯m nowhere near strong enough to resist that call. Salt clover crunch under my boots as I begin my long walk through a potentially dangerous field.

    <hr>

    ¡°Architect, you see anything weird?¡± I ask as I pass the halfway-ish point of the room. ¡°There¡¯s no way everything just went dead when I killed the vendigator.¡±

    ¡°It kind of looks like that.¡± March replies matter-of-factly. ¡°I haven''t seen any other apocalyptic or magical lifeforms. That doesn¡¯t mean there aren¡¯t any, but I think you¡¯re safe for now.¡±

    I shake my head and look up at the hanging sunflowers. ¡°All of these things are still loaded with cannonball seeds. You¡¯re telling me whatever¡¯s controlling them just told them to stop?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not telling you anything. Um, I mean¡­ I don¡¯t know. That sounded wrong the first time.¡±

    ¡­Alright, I guess. The magical light tells the story of something else coming any second, but I guess the vendigator was a little more central to the plan than I thought. I summon a few freshly minted Worth into my hand to risemutate half of them into ghost quarters, and the other half into skeletons. Flipping them is nearly automatic at this point, and when they¡¯re completely empowered, I slot them into my coin holster for future use.

    Because I don¡¯t trust this ceasefire one bit. This place is waiting for something. And I refuse to get caught off guard.

    <hr>

    I shield my eyes and squint up at what looks like a hole in the wall a few dozen feet up. A ratty little catwalk underlines it, stretching a while both ways, but without any kind of staircase or ladder to get up to it. I look back over my shoulder at the long stretch of clover that took me about an hour to walk over, then frown at the long rickety spiral staircase we came down from.

    ¡°How the hell were we supposed to get back up if that thing collapsed?¡±

    The sounds of eating come clear through the comms. ¡°I unno.¡± Ursula says with a mouthful of something crunchy. ¡°This isn¡¯t a dungeon from a video game. There¡¯s not always some kind of design to make sure you can backtrack.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s not just us. There¡¯s the vendigator, the elementals¡­¡± I trail off as I run out of other things to list. ¡°Point is, they¡¯ve got to have some way to get through these entrances and exits. The one I¡¯m under¨Cthat¡¯s probably floatable, but the one we came from definitely isn¡¯t.¡±

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°If you¡¯re so dead set on it making sense, then there¡¯s gotta be a way around. Maybe underground. Or maybe they can float way higher than you think.¡± Ursula pauses as something ruffles. ¡°We can work on making sense of it tomorrow. Use your shields to get up there then get back here for supper.¡±

    I click my tongue, feeling that I¡¯m definitely missing something, but nod anyway. The vendigator flew multiple dozen feet into the air. That¡¯s not enough to get to the top of the staircase. Something else has to factor into this. I stare up at the closest sunflower, only a few feet back from the doorway and nearly fifty feet in the air, motionless and bright with magic it just doesn''t want to rain down on me.

    One coin pops out of my holster. I fill it with a shield that slowly moves up, then hop onto it before it can get out of range. I spin around and cross my arms as I watch the flats for any sign of motion¨Csomething to prove me right¨Cbut there¡¯s absolutely nothing. Since the vendigator got empowered it¡¯s been radio silence. Even with all the magic trapped in the room like a long-held breath.

    ¡°We¡¯re missing something. I know it.¡± I mutter to myself as I back up onto the catwalk. It creaks and groans under my weight, but holds for now. ¡°Damn sunflowers are keeping secrets from me.¡±

    Ursula bursts out laughing. I roll my eyes and summon one more coin, fill it with a relocation targeted at me, and gently lay it down on the precipice of the exit. Just in case going in fully triggers something else to happen. I turn around quickly, hoping to catch something moving in the corner of my eye, but no¨Ceverything¡¯s as deadly still as it was a second ago. My shield disappears as the magic inside of it fades to nothing, and I tug on the connection to my relocation coin that¡¯s still in the helicopter.

    The world fades away as I close my eyes. Salt and cold humidity trade for a dry heat, like the kind made from a space heater, and I raise my eyebrows as I open my eyes to the sight of the room Ursula and I put up the equipment in. She nods at me with one hand wrist-deep in a bag of pretzels, then grabs an unopened one from her briefcase and shakes it tantalizingly.

    ¡°Want a snack before dinner?¡±

    I decide not to ask how my coin got here. It¡¯s pretty obvious if I think about it for all of two seconds. Instead I walk over, grab the bag, and rip it open as I almost fall into a crappy office chair that¡¯s moist and salty at the same time.

    Pretzels pour into my mouth, and I set the bag down on the nearest desk. Without the constant focus of the salt clover to keep my attention, the discomfort of my injured back comes back in spades. I try to take my mind off of it by scanning everything Ursula added to the room, but there¡¯s way too much to note at once. Guns, a camping stove, guns, explosives, packaged food, water, guns, a shit ton of ammunition, and did I mention guns? Because there¡¯s way too many guns.

    I gesture at the armory that lies against one wall with a raised eyebrow. Ursula chuckles guiltily, then leans down to grab the camping stove and a package of bacon.

    ¡°Yeah, I might¡¯ve gone a little overboard. But when I felt my mana starting to fail me, I just kinda grabbed everything I could. Most of which turned out to be guns, as you can obviously see.¡± She turns a knob on the stove, and a magical white-blue flame flickers to life. A frying pan leaves the pile and sits atop the flame, which Ursula leans back from and sighs. ¡°Wish I coulda taken some of the more heavy-duty stuff, but that¡¯d draw way too much attention. Not even sure I could¡¯ve with how horrible it felt to use my mana right before it turned off.¡±

    My mana feels like absolutely nothing. Since I don¡¯t have any. I flip a coin into my hand and spin it a few times, try to put a shield into it to make sure I¡¯m not missing anything, and it works just fine. No issues whatsoever.

    ¡°Guess not having any mana is a positive for once.¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°Still can¡¯t believe the system didn¡¯t give you any. But hey, since there¡¯s no mana for the debuff to work through, you can still use coins to cast spells. Me, though?¡±

    She holds up two fingers as a coin appears between them. She closes her eyes and focuses on it, but after a few seconds of hardcore clenching, absolutely nothing happens. With a tilt of her head and a gesture at the coin, Ursula sends it away and turns back to the stove.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s locked out now. At least ninety percent of my spells and skills make tangible things¨CBanker would¡¯ve been completely screwed if he was in my shoes.¡±

    I nod thoughtfully. ¡°About that¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I know. Plain and simple¨Cmy spells let me make magical weapons and everything needed to use those magical weapons. I default to guns, since they¡¯re pretty damn effective, but I could make swords and bows if I really wanted to. But when you can make a rocket launcher that shoots a swarm of intelligent mini-explosions, you kind of don¡¯t care about arrows any more.¡±

    ¡°No arguments here. But what about the mask? And the covering thing that you put on me when we first went inside?¡±

    Ursula taps her face. ¡°This one¡¯s a skill that lets me replicate magical items I¡¯ve got on me. The other¡¯s one of my only non-physical skills, and I won¡¯t be able to re-up it if it goes down. So try not to run into anything that¡¯s made of pure antimagic, alright?¡±

    ¡°The salt didn¡¯t mess with it?¡± I ask before Pearl can point the contradiction out to me.

    ¡°Now that you mention it¡­¡± Ursula trails off and summons her Class Card. ¡°Huh, would you look at that. The spell did go away, but I sure as hell didn¡¯t feel it. How ¡®bout you?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Nope. You read the description of ¡®horrendous purification¡¯, right?¡±

    ¡°That I did. But it didn¡¯t say anything aside from the whole ¡®mana lock¡¯ thing.¡± She narrows her eyes at her Class Card. ¡°Why? Does yours have anything extra?¡±

    ¡°Just a little. Here.¡± I flick open my Class Card, then turn it for Ursula to see. ¡°Grants hidden positive effects. This must be one of them.¡±

    She tilts her head as she reads, but her frown only deepens. ¡°I¡¯ve got a much higher Mind stat than you do. Why do you get more info?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Hell if I know.¡±

    ¡°And¡­ you got twenty Worth for killing the vendigator.¡± Ursula states with disbelief. ¡°Do you know how hard it is to destroy something so utterly and completely that it turns to Worth instead? Especially on Earth?¡±

    ¡°No, but if your tone is anything to go by, I guess it¡¯s pretty damn hard.¡±

    ¡°Pretty damn hard. That¡¯s an understatement if I¡¯ve ever heard one.¡± Ursula shakes her head and leans back from my Class Card. ¡°You¡¯ve got to make it so there¡¯s nothing salvageable about the thing you kill. Absolutely nothing you can sell¨Cnot a bolt, not a scrap, not a single tooth. When you¡¯re killing worthless stuff that¡¯s not hard to do, but that vendigator wasn¡¯t worthless. Especially not with the salt possessing it.¡±

    A little worry creeps onto my face. Pearl definitely has something to do with how powerful I am¨Cbut that¡¯s an explanation I can¡¯t give. If Ursula gets too suspicious, or wants some of this power for herself, then I don¡¯t know what to do.

    ¡°Ah, shit. Sorry, gambler.¡± She apologizes with a wince, pulls open the pack of bacon, and sets a bunch of strips to sizzle. ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to put you on the spot. This is a really good thing for us. You being powerful only brings good things for the resort, and from knowing you so far, it doesn¡¯t look like you did anything too horrific to get that power. So I¡¯ll just shut up, accept that you¡¯re strong enough to rely on for low to medium level missions, and cook us some dinner.¡±

    She holds up the package of bacon like a peace offering. ¡°How many you want?¡±

    I put on a half-forced smile, my mind still tinged with worry, and hold up five fingers.

    ¡°Alright, five it is. There¡¯s peanut butter and jam in the cooler, along with some cheese and apples. Not a five-star gourmet meal, and we¡¯ll definitely be sick of it by the end of the week, but it¡¯ll do.¡± She smiles reassuringly and slides over a single stone bullet. ¡°Keep that in your pocket. And if you¡¯re ever in a situation so horrible you¡¯ve got no other choice but to die, bite the bullet.¡±

    On that happy note, she turns her entire focus to the stove. I gingerly pick up the bullet and try to identify it. A wave of nausea and eye sparkles sends me rocking, but Ursula doesn¡¯t seem to notice. I lick my lips and stare at the stone bullet¨Cnow that I know Ursula can recreate magical things, this could be almost anything. It could be an ancient relic carved into a bullet. Or the bone of something terrifying she killed. Or just a really powerful bullet March made.

    I carefully put it in my pocket and watch Ursula tend to the bacon with a blue plastic spatula. There¡¯s so much about her¨Cand everyone else at the resort¨Cthat I don¡¯t know. And during those three weeks of free time, I didn¡¯t even try to get to know them beyond a surface level understanding. Hell, even that¡¯s a little too generous.

    If that ends up biting me in the ass, I¡¯ll only have myself to blame.

 Chapter 71: Shift Work

    Light filters through the crappy windows to signal the dawn of another new day. I wince and cover my eyes a little with my hand, shifting my body so that only the back of my head is hit by the unforgiving sun. Sleep came disturbingly easy last night¨Cand I¡¯ve been up for almost two hours with newfound energy and a thirst for knowledge.

    I gently swipe aside a chunk of the sunflower, then lean back with a sigh. Haven¡¯t learned shit about how it works, which isn¡¯t really a surprise, but it¡¯s starting to get annoying. There should be something in here I can use.

    ¡°There isn¡¯t.¡± I mutter to myself. ¡°The sunflowers are just salt storage things. Everything else that happens comes from somewhere else, and we didn¡¯t find shit about it.¡±

    A coffee mug taps my shoulder, and I look up to see Ursula with sleep still in her eyes. ¡°Yeah, well, maybe if you didn¡¯t obliterate the vendigator, then we¡¯d have something else to work with.¡± She yawns as I take the mug, then takes a seat next to me. ¡°Are you confident in saying it¡¯s useless?¡±

    ¡°Useless? No; definitely not useless. Just¡­ pointless for us specifically.¡± I gesture at one of the split cannonballs as I take a sip of piping hot black coffee. ¡°There¡¯s no difference between the sunflower¡¯s structure and the seed. Compared to the other plant you took, which has visibly different crystalline lattices and formations between each part of it, and the sunflower just seems more and more¡­¡±

    ¡°Expendable?¡±

    I snap my fingers and nod vigorously in agreement. ¡°That¡¯s the word I was looking for. I¡¯m looking at it like a gun; the sunflower should be the gun itself, and the seeds should be the bullets. But it¡¯s all just one big hunk of same-y crystal.¡±

    Ursula takes a much longer drink, then sighs in contentment and sets an empty mug down on the table. She opens up her Class Card and takes everything I¡¯d been studying back into her inventory.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get a sample to Architect later today, then we¡¯ll get her professional opinion on it. For right now, we need to decide how we¡¯re going to go about exploring this place.¡±

    Her Class Card shines bright, and a pair of simple pistols appear before us. She takes both of them and sets them in holsters under her arms. ¡°It¡¯s pretty damn obvious the krarig has screwed this place up beyond understanding. Architect did a scan of the rest of the buildings around here¨Cnone of ¡®em are touched by the apocalypse like the main one, and a few of them are slightly overrun with salt elementals. We¡¯re gonna have to do something about ¡®em eventually.¡±

    ¡°Are we really?¡± I ask as I look out the window. ¡°None of the elementals out here are aggressive. We could easily leave them alone and focus completely on the one main building. Architect, can you tell if the coins we¡¯re looking for are in the main building or any of the others?¡±

    Complete silence answers me. Ursula chuckles and looks up at the clock, then down at her Class Card.

    ¡°Yup, she¡¯s definitely still asleep. And probably will be for another hour. I agree with you on the whole ¡®abandon the other buildings¡¯ thing, but Architect seems to think there¡¯s important stuff in at least one of ¡®em. So I was thinking we could set something up so we don¡¯t waste too much time.¡±

    She reaches down under the table and pulls out a simple whiteboard and two coloured markers. Blue, which she keeps for herself, and black, which she gives to me. I look down at the dry-erase thing that¡¯s been gifted to me and raise an eyebrow in question.

    ¡°Shifts.¡± Ursula taps the whiteboard with her marker. ¡°One of us goes down into the main building for three hours while the other looks around up here for anything important. Then we reconvene for a meal and a short rest, trade places, and go again. After that, we both go down into the main building for eight hours to get some real work in. Oh, and when we¡¯re down there alone, we only explore rooms we¡¯ve already gone in. No risking dangerous progress without backup.¡±

    I cock my head to the side and uncap my marker. ¡°You think we¡¯re strong enough to be apart right now? With my inexperience and your lack of mana?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about that. You¡¯re pretty much an on demand rescue call, so I¡¯m not worried in the slightest. Well, as long as you¡¯ve got a little Worth to spend.¡± Ursula chuckles and uncaps her own marker. ¡°I¡¯m gonna draw a map of this place. Mark off each building when you¡¯ve fully explored it, and make a note of anything weird you found. I¡¯ll have Architect yell at you if I¡¯m in extreme danger, and you just relocate outta there if you need to.¡±

    Over the next few minutes Ursula doodles a pretty damn good map of the place while I munch away on a breakfast of energy bars and frozen fruit. She consults another map we¡¯ve got¨Cone pre-apocalypse¨Cfor the base, and uses March¡¯s analysys to fill in the newfound blanks. About seventy percent of the rig¡¯s outside is the same, but a good twenty percent has changed immensely. And ten percent just doesn¡¯t seem to be here anymore.

    ¡°Alright.¡± Ursula grunts and leans back from the whiteboard. ¡°So¡­ I¡¯m going to take the building that¡¯s a hundred feet in the air and pierced through with multiple thorn-tendrils. Any arguments?¡±

    I shake my head.

    ¡°Cool. You want to take the first shift in the deep or up here?¡±

    A coin appears between my fingers. ¡°I¡¯ll go down first. Since I¡¯d have to go down anyway to get you there.¡± I split the coin in two, then flip both of them at once and hand them to Ursula. ¡°Relocation¡¯s already in there. Leave one of them here so you can get back, and I¡¯ll take the other down with me.¡±

    She accepts both coins, places one on the table, and hands the other back to me. I nod and slot the coin into my holster, then flex my fingers and stand up with a groan of effort.

    ¡°Remember¨Cbite the bullet if things go severely wrong.¡± Ursula reminds me. ¡°And if you find out anything about the extra hidden effects of the purification, send me a message through your Class Card. Even if we¡¯re going to see each other in a few minutes, send it anyway. Could mean the difference between life and death.¡±

    ¡°Doubt it, but sure.¡± I split another coin in two, then push a relocation for me into both of them. One of them joins Ursula¡¯s, and the other stays with me. ¡°Should I take any guns down with me?¡±

    Ursula hands me a pistol that looks like it¡¯ll have enough recoil to break my arm and a belt with a holster and a bunch of magazines. I give it a look of suspicion for a few seconds, then take the belt and strap it around my waist. It feels much heavier than it looked, and when I finally take the gun, it¡¯s as heavy as a block of lead. I heft it a few times in disbelief as Ursula grins to herself.

    ¡°That¡¯s a modification of a desert eagle I made with magic. Based on the first gun I took out of uncertainty and blew away a weird spider-goblin that wanted to liquify my insides.¡± Ursula pulls out one of her underarm-holstered guns for me to see that it¡¯s the exact same as the one she just gave me. ¡°Most powerful pistol I can make that¡¯s magazine loaded. There¡¯s recoil compensation in the grip and the bullets are all way more powerful than anything you can make without magic. That doesn¡¯t mean it won¡¯t break your arm if you use it wrong, so be careful¨Cand make sure you really want whatever you point it at to die.¡±

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    I raise an eyebrow as I stuff it into the holster and snap it closed. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you use it yesterday, then?¡±

    ¡°Caution. Which I¡¯ve since thrown to the wind.¡± Ursula chuckles. ¡°If we get to day five without any progress, I¡¯ll pull out the even bigger guns. Oh, and everything we¡¯re using from now on has a risk of alerting someone else, so use it sparingly. Or don¡¯t¨CI¡¯m not your mom. Ready to move?¡±

    I flip a coin between my fingers and shoot Ursula a confident smile. ¡°See you in three hours.¡±

    She nods right back. ¡°Hopefully with some good news. Good luck, Gambler.¡±

    Relocation takes hold on my awareness, and the salty air of the room trades places with the cool, humid saltiness of the rig¡¯s depths. I drop a coin at my feet the moment I feel the crunch of salt underfoot, then drop to a crouch and snap my neck around to survey the room for any new developments. Nothing jumps out at me right away, but the molten magical light from yesterday¡¯s still burning bright.

    Meaning something¡¯s still supplying it.

    ¡°Honestly, kind of glad it¡¯s still so bright.¡± I say to myself, but equally to Pearl. Might as well use these few minutes of March¡¯s absence to get some conversation in. ¡°You think whatever¡¯s supplying this place is deep underwater or way up at the top of this thing?¡±

    Pearl slowly blinks, her head resting on her elbow, then sits up straight and grins excitedly. She gestures to her mouth a few times while opening and closing it, and I give her a nod of permission.

    ¡°Just until you hear Architect getting up.¡± I remind her before she can get too excited. ¡°Mercenary can¡¯t talk without her connecting us, so this is the only free time we¡¯ll get. Gotcha?¡±

    ¡°Gotcha!¡± Pearl squeals happily. ¡°Ooh, it feels so good to say words again! You killed the heck out of that vendigator yesterday! And that debuff? If you can somehow get that on demand, you could completely negate anyone that tries to mess with us!¡±

    Her happiness is so contagious I find myself smiling along with her as I make a few more ghost quarters and put shield into one of them to get me down to the ground. I put my hands in my pockets and step onto it just before it starts moving, watching the sunflower pods dangle uselessly in the air like abandoned shower heads.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to rip off a jawbone next time I fight a vendigator. Hopefully the salt¡¯s effects keep working after the elemental inside is dead.¡±

    ¡°I think it will. Besides, if it doesn¡¯t, we can just try to repurpose one of them into another spell!¡± Pearl rubs her hands together eagerly. ¡°Just because the dragonjet didn¡¯t turn into a spell, it doesn¡¯t mean the vendigator won¡¯t.¡±

    Huh. I hadn¡¯t even thought about that. The apocalypse must screw with ownership¨Cor else I wouldn''t have been able to repurpose the dragonjet. So maybe there is a chance I get a spell out of this. Even a few salt-crusted teeth I can strap to my knife will be a huge boon.

    ¡°Well, then let¡¯s get looking.¡± I flip Ursula¡¯s coin, then flick it towards the middle of the room. ¡°Maybe we can trigger another vendigator to come get us.¡±

    <hr>

    I could not, in fact, trigger another vendigator to come after us. Actually, I couldn¡¯t get anything new at all to happen¨Ceven though the room is brighter than ever, it seems completely dead now. Not a single cannonball fired, no monsters, and not even a shift in the molten magic that runs through the walls and floor. When I eventually hit up Ursula to regroup, we have so little to talk about that we cut the hour of rest down to ten minutes.

    Oh, and March comes back right when I send Ursula down into the depths. With sleep in her voice and the dulled reactions I¡¯d expect from someone who just got out of bed. By the time she gets caffeine into her I¡¯m already halfway to the first building, and she focuses way more on Ursula than me.

    Exploring the upper parts of the rig yields even less. All of the buildings I check have literally nothing interesting in them; just old things people used to run this place. Boots, broken down old machines, a lot of paperwork; that kind of thing. Some of it¡¯s apocalypse touched, sure, but all the elementals on the surface don¡¯t even give me the time of day. They just float lazily in the air, encased in a strangely simple diamond-shaped crystal formation, their cores pulsating with molten magic that¡¯s such a one-to-one perfect match for the light in the deep that it can¡¯t be a coincidence.

    Maybe if we can break one of them open and study the core, then we could get some new info. But something about them¡­ that pulse of alien magic that I know can turn malicious in an instant¡­ it stops that thought dead in its tracks. Especially when I¡¯m alone. If it comes to it I¡¯ll get Ursula and we¡¯ll break one open, but for now, that¡¯s a last resort.

    ¡°And¡­ that¡¯s about it. I beat down a few apocalypse-touched machines that had the misfortune of being made from decades old rusted pieces of junk, got a good look at a bunch of elementals, and browsed decade-old reports on companies that don¡¯t exist anymore. All in all, a complete waste of time that I¡¯ve got a whole nine Worth to show for.¡±

    I shrug and lean back in my chair. ¡°Not a great second day so far, but at least I haven¡¯t died yet.¡±

    Ursula stares angrily at me with a protean bar in one hand and her other arm in a sling. Something tells me her second day was a little less great than mine.

    ¡°You made a big hole.¡± She states flatly. ¡°And the clover grew over it. I found it.¡±

    I wince in sympathy. ¡°Arm-first?¡±

    She nods. ¡°Arm first.¡±

    ¡°Shit, sorry, probably should¡¯ve marked it somehow. Did Architect not see it?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Not enough of an elevation difference to show on her map¨Cand one other, much more important thing.¡± Ursula tosses away her wrapper and slaps her hand on the table. She peels her fingers away one by one, revealing a small cylinder of glass filled with salt. ¡°The entire floor is salt. Down dozens and dozens of feet until who the hell knows how far, and even further than that. Check out that sample I pulled up from nearly a hundred feet below.¡±

    Shimmering magic flashes through the salt like thousands and thousands of tiny threads each individually going up in flame. I raise an eyebrow and take the thing between my fingers, raise it up in the air, and try to latch my awareness onto it. Blinding light flows through it in a wave so sudden and destructive that I don¡¯t have time to react, leaving me stunned in more ways than one as I blink away the spots.

    ¡°Holy hell.¡± I whisper. ¡°That¡¯s powerful shit.¡±

    Ursula nods vigorous agreement. ¡°I know, right? And it¡¯s not perpetually bright like the room it came from, so we can rule out the light as the only source of real magic. There¡¯s something else in the crystals that we can¡¯t detect with anything we¡¯ve got¨Cthat won¡¯t change while we¡¯re here, but if we can pinpoint it eventually, we might be able to use it.¡±

    ¡°Use it how?¡± I ask as I set the cylinder back down. It vibrates slightly when it hits the table, then goes unnaturally still. Almost like the magic is stabilizing it somehow.

    ¡°No idea.¡± Ursula admits. She rolls her good shoulder and summons a health potion, takes a big swig, and shudders as it works its way down her arm. ¡°Hoo, I hate that feeling so much. Like peeling an annoying hangnail knowing you have to put on hand sanitizer in a few minutes. Where was I? Right, the salt. Depending on what parts of it are in the salt and which are in the elemental, we might be able to isolate the part that controls apocalyptic monsters.¡±

    That doesn¡¯t really sound like ¡®no idea¡¯, but whatever. I flick a coin at Ursula, which she catches easily, accepting the relocation inside and tossing it right back to me. With a snap of my fingers I¡¯m back in the depths, and a second snap brings Ursula right there with me.

    She cracks her knuckles and nods down towards the hole. ¡°When we¡¯re done, I¡¯ll get a bunch of explosives and blow this floor wide open. You¡­ did remember to put recall coins at basecamp, right?¡±

    ¡°Did it the moment I got back.¡± I confirm as I drop two more coins at our feet, then turn to the darkness that leads to the next room. ¡°You won¡¯t pass out when the blowback from that health potion rears up, right?¡±

    ¡°As long as history stays consistent, I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Ursula assures me with one hand on an underarm-holstered gun. ¡°I¡¯ll go in first. Architect, your eyes and ears at maximum?¡±

    ¡°Yes they are.¡± March confirms.

    Ursula turns and nods at me. ¡°Perfect. Let¡¯s see what else this place has in store for us.¡±

 Chapter 72: Unwanted Attention

    Three days pass uneventfully. Each of the new rooms we find turn out to be smaller versions of the first one, and they all eventually turn into dead ends. The first day we explored one new room. The second three. And at the end of the third¨Ctechnically fourth¨Cday, we rush through seven vendigator and sunflower cannonade filled rooms like people possessed. Leading us to one last dead end that¡¯s seriously confusing, since we aren¡¯t any closer to finding what we¡¯re here for.

    Meaning my skill didn¡¯t work. Or that of the two options I gave it, neither was ever going to lead us where we actually wanted to go.

    ¡°Well, this is some bullshit.¡± Ursula mutters as she smacks the butt of her fist against a giant chunk of salt. ¡°Vendigator after vendigator, sunflower after sunflower, and we¡¯re nowhere closer to finding the damn coins. How the hell could that first room be so much more dangerous than any of the others?¡±

    I shrug, but I agree with everything she just said. ¡°Probably has to do with the fact that we¡¯ve killed all the vendigators before they could get purified. Except for this one, I guess.¡±

    My toe nudges a mound of see-through salt that¡¯s currently in the progress of murdering a vendigator. Just like before, all the sunflowers stopped shooting when the vendigator appeared. And just like before, the salt is taking it over like a parasite. A horrifically purifying parasite.

    ¡°Still think this is going to be pointless.¡± Ursula grumbles, but backs away nonetheless. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it locked in place. You blow away the entirety of its body ¡®cept for the tail and the head. Promise you¡¯ve got good enough control for that? Because I don¡¯t think we¡¯re getting a¡­ thirteenth chance at this.¡±

    ¡°Well, we should¡¯ve done this thirteen times, then.¡± I cross my arms and ready a projectile as the salt crystal starts to vibrate. ¡°But someone insisted that they needed a bunch of easy apocalypse-touched monster samples.¡±

    Ursula nods once. ¡°Yeah, Architect. What¡¯re you going to do with nine of these damn things anyway?¡±

    ¡°Research how the krarig cloned an apocalypse touched monster.¡± March replies easily. ¡°There definitely weren¡¯t thirteen missing vending machines in the cafeteria break room. And after looking through all the requisitions and plans, there were only eleven of them in the entire rig. You¡¯ve seen more than that already, and they¡¯re nearly perfect clones of each other, down to the snack scraps hanging off their body.¡±

    ¡°And only a psychopath would stock every single vending machine with the exact same stuff.¡± Ursula finishes. ¡°Alright, yeah, that makes sense. But why nine? Couldn¡¯t we have let the salt take a few of ¡®em?¡±

    ¡°I have my plans.¡± March giggles cryptically. ¡°I wanted ten, but you guys had to destroy too many of them. So we¡¯re all unhappy right now.¡±

    I roll my eyes at March¡¯s giggles, but yeah, she¡¯s right. I have almost a hundred Worth and a new shellraiser glass blueprint to show for the three vendigators that don¡¯t exist any more, but no body parts. At all. They all ate panic-thrown projectiles that weren¡¯t really meant to do as much damage as they did.

    The salt purified vendigator bursts free of its shell with a screeching bellow. Ursula grabs it by the neck and slams it hard to the ground, shattering clover in a good five foot radius from the shockwave alone. In the moment the thing is stunned and surprised she wrenches its jaws open with hands protected by magical gloves, and I dash in with a regular ghost quarter filled with a projectile that I eyeballed to de-torso this monster.

    I nod at her. She nods back, releases the vendigator, and rolls away to a safe distance. It shakes the shock off, tenses its back legs in preparation, and dies. Metal shears away in a controlled burst, scrapping but not fully destroying it in an explosion that¡¯s a little smaller than it needed to be.

    ¡°Man, why were we even scared of this thing in the first place?¡± Ursula asks as she leans down to pick up the head and about three inches of neck. ¡°One well placed grenade or projectile in its belly and it¡¯s done. I¨CHEY!¡±

    The head snaps at her, and she smacks it on the tip of the nose. I watch as she fights it a little, eventually unlatching her belt to tie it¡¯s jaws together after she gets a few scrapes of her own.

    ¡°Guess it doesn¡¯t need the rest of the body to live.¡± I point out helpfully.

    ¡°Gee, you think?¡± Ursula grimaces down at her arms. ¡°Damn thing almost bit my hand clean off. And it looks like it¡¯s going to try again the second the salt works away at the belt. Well, news for you, buddy¨Cthat¡¯s a magic belt. You¡¯re not going to break through that no matter how hard you try.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as I carefully lean down to pick up the tail. Which contains a good four inches of ass that I didn¡¯t intend to be carrying right now. ¡°You think your magic belt¡¯s going to stand up to the debuff that took your mana away?¡±

    ¡°Yes. My stuff is way stronger than I am.¡± Ursula summons another belt and straps the vendigator head onto her back. ¡°Architect¨Cyou sure there¡¯s not any hidden passageways we¡¯re missing? Or have you made any progress on revealing the hidden bonuses on the debuff?¡±

    ¡°Yes and¡­ a little?¡± March shifts audibly in her seat. ¡°I looked through your Class Card, Mercenary, and there¡¯s a bunch of empty spaces that should have stuff in them. So they¡¯re definitely listed in your Class Card, I just don¡¯t have any way to find out what they actually are.¡±

    Now that¡¯s news to me. I hold up a finger for Ursula to wait and pull up my own Class Card, swipe over to my buffs and debuffs, and stare intently at the space underneath horrendous purification. ¡­If I had more than one debuff right now, then maybe I¡¯d be able to determine anything from¨C

    No, wait. Horrendous purification might be the last thing listed, but there¡¯s a little space between it and the top of the list. Just enough space for another buff or debuff to be listed.

    ¡°Hey.¡± I tap my Class Card and nod at Ursula. ¡°How much space is between the top of your Class Card and your first buff?¡±

    Ursula raises an eyebrow and opens her own Card. ¡°Pretty much nothing. And if I scroll down quite¡­ a¡­ bit¡­ yup, there¡¯s Horrendous Purification in the list. With an empty space right before it, which is probably where one of those ¡®positive effects¡¯ should go. Why do you want to know?¡±

    ¡°Just curious.¡± I mutter to myself as I play with my Class Card a little more. ¡°How do you have your buffs sorted? Chronologically?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    I nod to myself and fiddle with the description at the top of my Class Card. There¡¯s got to be some way to make this sort another way¨Calphabetically, inverse chronology, time remaining¨Canything, really. If I can get it to do that, then we should be able to use Ursula¡¯s buff list to narrow down at least a little info on the extra effects.

    ¡°It just doesn¡¯t make sense why it¡¯s coming in two parts.¡± I muse in frustration at the immutability of my Class Card. ¡°The debuff itself says we¡¯ve got positive effects¨Cthere¡¯s no reason to show them anywhere but the debuff. But they¡¯re being listed as an individual thing. Why?¡±

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Multiple things, actually.¡± March corrects me. ¡°Mercenery¡¯s Class Card has one space before it, one after it, and another two placed in between buffs she got later on.¡±

    ¡°So the debuff¡¯s constantly adding new shit to us?¡± Ursual says with a grimace as she shifts uncomfortably. ¡°That¡¯s not a low-level debuff. Hell, it¡¯s probably one of the stronger ones we¡¯ve ever come across.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and if this thing wasn¡¯t annoying to work with, we might be able to find something out.¡± I sigh and send my Class Card away with no success. ¡°But apparently we can¡¯t change how this thing sorts. Which is going to be a real pain in the ass if I ever get more than ten buffs at once.¡±

    Ursula pulls her lips into a tight line and hums in agreement. ¡°You don¡¯t know how many times I¡¯ve tried exactly what you just did. At least a hundred, but probably getting close to a thousand. You want to bring these vendigator parts back up before we try to find another way?¡±

    I mime pulling the pin on a grenade. ¡°Might as well kill two birds with one stone, no?¡±

    ¡°Might as well, yeah.¡± Ursula agrees, reaches into one of her shoulder bags, and hands me a bunch of weird-looking explosives. They almost look like cartoon drills strapped onto bundles of plastic explosives. ¡°Spare some Worth to spare us the walk back?¡±

    I tuck them under one arm and the vendigator tail under the other. ¡°Nope. It¡¯s a half hour walk¨Cyou¡¯ll survive it.¡±

    She groans theatrically. ¡°You¡¯re the enemy of feet everywhere.¡±

    ¡°From what I¡¯ve seen on the internet, I¡¯ll take that title.¡± I heft the tail onto my shoulder and gesture through the field of salt clover. ¡°When I¡¯m a millionaire, I¡¯ll relocate you for something as little as going out for ice cream. But not now.¡±

    ¡°Thresholds and spells, I gotcha. Doesn¡¯t mean I want to walk with this thing trying to bite my head off.¡± Ursula smacks the vendigator¡¯s struggling head with the back of her palm, then shakes it with a hiss. ¡°Ow. Why¡¯s it still got to be sharp? And alive?¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Alright,, when you¡¯ve got them all packed in there, press your fingertip to the little black square and spin it around completely.¡±

    I press my fingertip to the first black square and spin it around once. The explosive clearly beeps one time, and the square turns from black to blue. That seems right, so I repeat it until all of them are brilliant blue and look back at Ursula for confirmation.

    She stares down from the top of the hole and gestures for me to move away a little. I shift my torso to give her a better look, and after a second, she gives the thumbs-up.

    ¡°Perfect-o. Now that they¡¯re armed, you¡¯ll want to get the hell out of there. Yeah, they¡¯re burrowing charges, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s safe to stand on top of the holes they¡¯re going to make.¡±

    I swallow hard and look down at the field of explosives at my feet. Ursula extends a hand to help me out, and I take it without a second of hesitation. Once I clamber out of the hole I glance back at the explosives, then take a few generous steps back before my awareness lets me start feeling slightly safe.

    ¡°Warn a girl the next time you want her to arm a bunch of explosives.¡±

    ¡°...What else did you think you were doing? Planting flowers to replace the clover you blew up?¡±

    Okay, sure. Maybe it¡¯s obvious in hindsight, but in my brain, ¡®arming explosives¡¯ is synonymous with valiant sacrifices and accidental deaths. That could just be because of all the action movies I watched as a kid, but still¨Cdoes she not have a remote detonator?

    The woman in question looks down into the pit one last time, then nods to herself and starts walking towards me. And keeps walking with a gesture for me to follow her even further away from the hole. Completely rationalizing my discomfort with unknowingly arming the things we apparently need to stand extremely far away from.

    ¡°You might want to relocate us the hell out of here.¡± She warns as she pulls something that looks like a staple gun from one shoulder bag. ¡°Just in case this entire floor collapses from the chain explosions.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said it wouldn¡¯t be that bad.¡±

    She knits her eyebrows together in confusion as she taps her earpiece three times. ¡°Never said anything like that.¡±

    The lever on the detonator clicks softly. A cacophonous whir like the keening grind of a hundred cement saws in unison fills the silence all at once, and I have to stifle the surprised scream that threatens to rip from my throat. Pearl¡¯s isn¡¯t stifled at all, which would be a huge problem if March wasn¡¯t super sensitive to sudden, loud sounds. My awareness flares as the first ringing explosion sends echoes through the salt floor, and almost completely by instinct, I pull on both strings connecting me and Ursula to the coins back at basecamp.

    It¡­ takes a second to work. Shards of salt burst into the air on currents of compressed magical shockwaves. Cracks shoot through the carpet of clover, spreading from the hole and forking out like unmaking lightning. My awareness winces and flinches away as the suffocating presence of something else lands on us¨Csomething huge, otherworldly, and completely indescribable. Almost like gravity.

    And within it, something much smaller. Like a flicker of static during a song I¡¯ve heard a thousand times before. It¡¯s so much less dangerous than the primal force, but there¡¯s something distinctly human about it.

    Nothing good can come from that.

    Then we¡¯re both standing in the little office like nothing completely weird just happened. I sniff once, then double over in a coughing fit as salt assaults and burns my sinuses. Ursula says a few things I can¡¯t hear over my own misery, and March replies a second later. A hand pats on my back, and I look up through teary eyes to see a slightly perturbed look in place of Ursula¡¯s usual effortless confidence.

    ¡°I figured we¡¯d draw some attention, but that was way faster than it had any right to be.¡± She sighs and hands me a bottle of water that I cradle like a precious gemstone. ¡°They must¡¯ve been way closer than we gave ¡®em credit for¨Cprobably caught on to the fact that a krarig¡¯s about to be born in just a few short days.¡±

    ¡°The preservation?¡±

    Ursula nods. ¡°Architect, where¡¯d that blip come from?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m checking that out right now. Oh, that¡¯s weird.¡± March muses along to the sound of her tapping fingers. ¡°It¡¯s coming from sea level. They must be on a¡­ just a second, I¡¯m getting a better look at it right now.¡±

    ¡°On a boat?¡± Ursula finishes, then turns to look at me. ¡°How¡¯s that possible? The waters around here are terrible.¡±

    ¡°Yes, they are. But they¡¯re on a really weird boat. It looks like a yacht sized speedboat, and it¡¯s cutting through the waves like an icebreaker.¡± March relays with an upturn of confusion in her voice. ¡°Definitely magic, that¡¯s for sure. It almost looks like something I could make.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s going to make it here, no doubt about it.¡± Ursula sighs in annoyance and drops the vendigator head down on a table. I curl the tail up next to it. ¡°How long until we can expect visitors?¡±

    March hums deep in her throat. ¡°For just the distance, I think it¡¯ll take about eight hours. Maybe more if they need to stop the boat for any reason. There¡¯s a dock and an elevator on the northwest side of the rig, which is where they¡¯ll come in from. Destroy that and they¡¯ll be stuck finding some other way onto the rig.¡±

    Ursula grabs a rocket launcher and hefts it over her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ll get on that. Gambler, give it fifteen minutes and then go back into the depths. See if the explosion uncovered anything important, and if it did, relocate me down with you. We¡¯ll talk strategy for the inevitable meetup later.¡±

    All I can get out is a thumbs-up before Ursula throws the door open, walks past the elemental that¡¯s still floating right there, whipping up salt like a mild dust storm, and slams it shut before it can try to get back in. I glance down at everything we¡¯ve got¨Cwithout magic, there¡¯s no way we can keep all this safe and hidden from the preservation. Then there¡¯s the giant ¡®people are here¡¯ landmark that is the helicopter¨Cso there¡¯s no point in trying to hide much of anything.

    I open my Class Card and stare at my inventory. The plain white stone mask stares back at me¨Cquite possibly an answer to one of our problems, but definitely not to all of them. A plan starts to brew in the corners of my mind, but I put it on the backburner until Ursula¡¯s here to talk it over.

    Two pre-made relocation-filled coins spill onto the table, and I latch onto the one in the depths with newfound fervor. There¡¯s no way the preservation¡¯s just here to deal with the krarig¨Cnot on a speedboat without any visible weapons.

    They¡¯re here for some other reason. Maybe the same one we are.

 Chapter 73: Re-Debuff

    Ursula¡¯s message pings in. I pull on her connection to the coin in my hand, let it fall to the ground, and take a step to the left. She appears in a puff of magic in the process of dusting off her clothes.

    ¡°That¡¯s said and done. As quietly as possible, which ain¡¯t that quiet, but it shouldn¡¯t get the preservation any more riled up than they already are.¡± She wipes a hand on her pants, then pauses as she takes everything in. ¡°Well, that¡¯s about a hundred times worse than I expected. Was it stable when you teleported in?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡± I confirm. ¡°There was still some falling salt, but nothing that was actually dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Guess that¡¯s about as good as I can hope for. Architect, can you monitor the preservation at the same time as you monitor us?¡±

    ¡°Not with all my attention, but I think so. Yeah. I should be able to.¡± March says confidently. ¡°There¡¯s a massive rift that leads down to something deep below, and there¡¯s a bunch of moving things down there. Don¡¯t jump down without a plan.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the warning.¡± Ursula leans over the edge of a jagged fissure that nearly runs through half the room. ¡°Are the exits down there too?¡±

    ¡°I think so.¡±

    Ursula frowns and crosses her arms. ¡°Then I guess we have to go down there. Gambler, you got any ideas?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow, then raise my hand with two coins between my knuckles. ¡°Depending on how dangerous you think it is, I could go take a ten second look. Take a few pounds of explosives with me, kill a few of whatever¡¯s down there, and come right back up after I kick the hornet¡¯s nest.¡±

    ¡°Nah, I hate that idea. Even with your instincts, something built for stealth could get the drop on you, and I¡¯m not risking that. How about¡­ we actually make some headway on this debuff first, maybe get it off of me, and then we can do the dangerous shit.¡±

    ¡°Sure. If you¡¯ve got any more ideas than fifteen minutes ago, I¡¯m all ears.¡±

    There¡¯s one long-ass pause that follows the end of my sentence. It¡¯s really weird that she doesn¡¯t have some kind of debuff-cleansing potion, or a piece of armor that gives her resistance to things like this. My matrix might be able to remove the debuff, but all that¡¯d change is giving Ursula access to her mana again. And I¡¯m not fully sure I want to play that card just yet. Unless¡­

    I lean in next to Ursula and tap her shoulder to get her attention. She raises an eyebrow, then nods for me to go ahead.

    ¡°If you could get the debuff again while Architect monitors your Class Card, could she get some of the details?¡±

    ¡°Definitely. As long as I can access uncertainty first, since it¡¯ll give us the instruments we need.¡±

    Damn. I was kind of hoping the answer would be a simple ¡®no¡¯. I squeeze my fingers into a fist and let out a long, contemplative exhale. She¡¯s already seen the knife and the holster. Why do I care about showing her the matrix?

    Pearl¡¯s worried face flashes over my eyes. And I recognize that the care isn¡¯t fully my own. There¡¯s something about the matrix¨Csomething that Pearl knows that I don¡¯t¨Cand it¡¯s the reason she doesn¡¯t want Ursula and March to know. But she didn¡¯t bring it up before, and she isn¡¯t really pushing me to stop, so maybe it¡¯s more about potential consequences of me having too much shellraiser stuff.

    ¡°Gambler? You good?¡±

    I shake my head and offer her a toothless smile. ¡°Yeah, just deciding if one of my secrets is worth keeping held to my chest. And if it¡¯ll work on you at all, since you¡¯re not¡­ since you don¡¯t own the thing I¡¯m thinking about.¡±

    ¡°You need us to swear to secrecy? Because we can easily draw up a contract for that.¡± Ursula easily suggests. ¡°Architect, you good with that?¡±

    ¡°Yup.¡±

    Ursula spreads her hands. ¡°There you go. Make a contract if you want, then we can¡¯t go blabbin your secrets. Even to Banker, if it¡¯s that kind of secret.¡±

    That kind of secret? What the hell¡¯s she talking about?

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t¡­ rngh.¡± I grunt and pull out the empowerment matrix. ¡°Sling this over your shoulder and tighten it. When I put a coin in there, it¡¯ll wipe out all your debuffs. Maybe the buffs too, but if you really want to know what bonuses this debuff gives us, you¡¯ll have to live with¨C¡±

    The matrix¡¯s strap flies over Ursula¡¯s shoulder, and she pulls it tight enough that her jacket bunches up around it. She looks down at it with obvious curiosity glittering in her eyes, but she doesn¡¯t say a damn thing. Because she¡¯s respecting my privacy like a good friend would. I pull out a coin, push a projectile meant to work with the matrix into it, and insert it into the matrix.

    Ursula shudders, doubles over like she¡¯d just been punched, and coughs.

    ¡°Shit, right, should¡¯ve warned you about that. Sorry.¡± I apologize and rush over to help her sit down. ¡°Haven¡¯t used it on myself yet, but apparently it¡¯s extremely uncomfortable while it works. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Nope, I get it, all healing shit has to suck in some way.¡± She wheezes and lets me slowly lower her onto her back. ¡°Probably should¡¯ve expected this, since I¡¯m about a hundred times more experienced with this than you are. But if this doesn¡¯t clear up that debuff, I¡¯m going to kick your ass.¡±

    I cock a grin and pat her on the forehead. ¡°I¡¯ll make a cardboard target for you if it comes to that.¡±

    The next few minutes are filled with Ursula¡¯s suffering. Not the kind of suffering that leads to lasting trauma, or even any injuries in the long run, but the kind that comes with setting a dislocated ankle. A moment of horrible pain, followed by a blissful wave of relief.

    Hopefully.

    A wet cough sputters out from deep in Ursula¡¯s chest. Her eyes go wide and she sits bolt upright as a parade of coughs follows, each breaking loose a thin colourful liquid that hangs in the air instead of falling straight down. We both stare at whatever the hell it is in disbelief, punctuated every few seconds by another cough that adds to the minefield of droplets, until it finally looks like Ursuala¡¯s got everything out of her.

    She wipes her mouth while blinking furiously. ¡°Ugh. I feel like my head¡¯s full of mucus.¡± She sniffles, her voice muffled as though she had a bad head cold. ¡°Is the debuff gone?¡±

    ¡°Let me make sure¡­¡± march hums to herself for a second. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s gone. Along with a lot of other stuff.¡±

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    Ursula waves that off. ¡°I can put that back on before I re-debuff myself. Gambler, can you send me back up?¡±

    I offer her a hand to help her up. ¡°See if you can stand first.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s probably a good idea.¡± Ursula chuckles weakly and firmly grasps my wrist. I do the same to hers and help pull her up. She staggers a little, but finds her footing easily. ¡°Is this good enough for you, doctor?¡±

    ¡°Plenty fine.¡± I press a coin into her hands and drop another at her feet. ¡°You know the drill.¡±

    ¡°That I do.¡±

    I relocate Ursula back to basecamp, then start counting in my head. If I reach a hundred without her or March saying anything, I¡¯m going back up there to make sure she¡¯s not dead. Or delaying because she wants to make a bunch more guns and explosives; we¡¯ve still got eighty percent of the stash left, and only a few days to go through it. And that¡¯s with blowing up multiple vendigators and sunflowers.

    ¡°Huh, what?¡± March says with a frown in her voice. ¡°You don¡¯t want to type it out? That¡¯s lazy. You know it is. Yes, I¡¯ll still patch you through. Gambler, Mercenary wants to talk to you. I¡¯m giving her the airwaves right now.¡±

    March¡¯s voice crackles to a stop, and is instantly replaced with a loud, mucusy snort. ¡°Gambler. Remember how when we got the debuff it messed up my protection spell?¡±

    ¡°Sort of?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it kind of was a one-off thing. But it happened¨Cand now that I¡¯m back up here, I¡¯m feeling a billion times better.¡± Ursula leans away and clears her throat. I still hear every horrible noise. ¡°Just clearing the residual gunk outta my system while I connect the extra stuff to the monitoring equipment. It got me thinking; the debuff must be keeping us feeling fine down there. Or else you¡¯d be hacking up a lung and draining a gallon of snot from your sinuses.¡±

    I shake my head in disgust. ¡°Paint a less disgusting picture, please.¡±

    ¡°Eh, you definitely already got the point. That debuff cleared away my spell, but it gave us the exact same effects. If we put dungeon rules to this¨Cwhich I know is a contradiction to what I told you¨Cit paints a picture of the krarig rewarding us for surviving the encounter with a deadly monster. Well, rewarding and punishing us at the same time.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but what if we killed it without getting hit? Then how could it give us the debuff?¡±

    The sound of metal scraping across a table rings loud and clear. ¡°Ow.¡±

    ¡°Was that you putting the debuff back on?¡±

    ¡°Why yes, it was. And to answer your other question; if we could kill the vendigator without getting hit, then we¡¯d already be strong enough to not need the debuff. Brrr.¡± Ursula¡¯s mic goes staticy for a second. ¡°Lord almighty, that feeling still sucks ass.¡±

    I cross my arms and look up at the glowing sunflowers. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t feel like that¡¯s right. If we¡¯re ascribing dungeon rules to this place, then we¡¯d definitely need the debuff to clear it. We¡¯d probably have to juggle cleansing it to fight and getting it to explore, and eventually, we¡¯d be forced into a fight where we¡¯d have to do that extremely quickly. But then they¡¯d just give us the debuff at the start of everything to let us know it¡¯s important.¡±

    ¡°All good here.¡± Ursula says, then grunts an echo when she relocates right next to me. ¡°Point taken, internalized, and accepted. Which is why we shouldn¡¯t ascribe dungeon rules to this place, but rather use an understanding of dungeon rules to make assumptions about how this place would work as a magical ecosystem.¡±

    She takes a deep breath, then sighs in relief. ¡°Confirmation that the debuff lets us feel normal down here. Probably because of the magical salt in our blood. Architect, you see anything we can take advantage of in my Class Card?¡±

    ¡°Nope. But I¡¯m sending you all the data in text.¡± March replies.

    Ursula opens her Class Card, taps it twice, and frowns. ¡°The buffs came in instantly, but the debuff only happened a few seconds in. Three buffs in total, which is what we already knew, but from the commands they sent to my Class Card, I should be able to reverse engineer what they are.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s impressive.¡±

    ¡°Aw, thanks.¡± Ursula chuckles bashfully. ¡°It took months to map out what the responses in the Class Card means. You see this one here?¡±

    She turns so I can see her Class Card and taps on a long string of letters and numbers.

    ¡°This one means the buff lets us use another buff. Managed to rip that little bit of knowledge from the system after I found a spell that lets you drink liquid mercury for a stat buff.¡± She continues proudly. ¡°So we don¡¯t know what it¡¯ll let us use, but it¡¯s definitely going to be something around here. Salt, tainted water, maybe even an expired snack in the vending machine.¡±

    ¡°Cool.¡± I say honestly and lean in a little closer. ¡°What do the other long strings mean?¡±

    ¡°Most of ¡®em are simple system working commands; they barely change at all. The other two we¡¯re looking for are here and here¨C¡± She taps two more strings of text; one short with an equal amount of letters and numbers, and the other littered with random punctuation marks. ¡°That first one is the one that makes us immune to the negative effects of this place, and the last one¡­ is¡­¡±

    She trails off as a frown crosses her face. ¡°It¡¯s a location string. And it¡¯s repeated a bunch with slightly different coordinates.¡±

    My stomach drops, and the intense sensation from a few minutes ago flashes back to the forefront of my mind. ¡°Something¡¯s keeping tabs on us.¡±

    ¡°Not just keeping tabs; it knows our exact location at all times.¡± Ursula mutters and closes her Class Card. ¡°That cements that there¡¯s some kind of greater intelligence behind all this. And probably means the krarig¡¯s not as not-alive-yet as we thought.¡±

    That¡¯s one terrifying thought. If the krarig¡¯s alive right now, then there¡¯s a good chance it wants us the hell out of here. Every glimmer of magic in the salt takes on a darker, more intelligent undertone; like billions of molten eyes watching our every move. Yet, for some reason, stopping the sunflowers from pulling the trigger. Maybe¡­ maybe the krarig recognized that it won¡¯t kill us this way. Or maybe it just wants to kill us on its own.

    I drum my fingers nervously against my leg. ¡°What does it want from us?¡±

    ¡°Just because it¡¯s watching us, doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s intelligent. I¡¯ve never personally run into an apocalypse-touched thing with anything close to thoughts, but that¡¯s how you get killed when you run into one that does.¡± Ursula chuckles and summons a bunch of the first flower¡¯s salt pollen. ¡°Especially with how the salt took over the vendigator, we have to keep it in the back of our minds that it might somehow take over the krarig too. No matter how unlikely it is. You got a water bottle on you?¡±

    That came out of nowhere. ¡°Yeah. You need a drink?¡±

    ¡°Nope; got one of my own.¡± She summons a canteen and pops open the cap. ¡°Just wanted to make sure we¡¯ve still got an untainted one if this does nothing.¡±

    Pollen quietly flows into the canteen. It mixes with the water, creating a glow that¡¯s bright enough to shine through solid metal, then starts to¡­ do something. One solid light source breaks apart into thin beams, like light filtering down through a lake, and begins to wrap around itself like a wicker basket. Ursula and I watch with interested confusion as the light wraps itself closer and closer, forming a tight seal around the canteen that¡¯s both unimaginably bright and somehow easy to look at.

    All at once it flashes like a glittering crystal, then dies out. Ursula holds it at arm¡¯s length for a few seconds on the off chance that something starts up again. No magic bursts free. It doesn''t turn into a miniature supernova.

    ¡°Is it done?¡± I ask unconfidently.

    ¡°I¡­ think so?¡± Ursula answers just as confidently, pulls the canteen back to her chest, and frowns down at the cap. ¡°Definitely didn¡¯t screw that back on. What kind of magic has the decency to re-cap your bottles?¡±

    None I¡¯ve seen so far, that¡¯s for sure. She carefully reaches out and twists the cap off, closes one eye, and peers into the canteen. Since she doesn¡¯t flinch or gasp in surprise, there definitely isn¡¯t anything too amazing in there. Actually, from how little she reacts, I¡¯d bet it looks just like staring down into her canteen pre magic salt-pollen.

    Her face twists into a plastic smile, and the canteen is pushed into my hands.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have mana, so¨C¡±

    Before she can get too far into her convincing I tilt the canteen to my lips and take a long sip. Incredibly salty water coats my mouth in a thick film that¡¯s cold as ice and slightly sticky, but the weirdest part is just how wet it is. It¡¯s almost like my entire mouth is coated in drool, but it isn¡¯t dripping out or even flowing. I smack my lips twice, furrow my brow, and hand the canteen back to Ursula.

    ¡°Your turn.¡±

 Chapter 74: Just A Sip

    My stomach tightens as the mixture finally hits it. Not painfully so, but just enough for it to let me know that it isn¡¯t happy with what I just gave it. I grimace as Ursula tilts the canteen upwards, then smack my lips again to try and get the excess sticky moisture off. But it¡¯s stuck there like lipstick mixed with glue.

    ¡°Ech. Salty.¡± Ursula coughs into the crook of her elbow. ¡°Not sure what else I expected. Ooh, and that¡¯s not a nice feeling. Makes me think I¡¯m going to throw up at any moment with all this not-quite-saliva.¡±

    ¡°Yick, hadn¡¯t thought of it like that.¡± I shake my head and smack my lips. Again. ¡°Architect, did this do anything weird to her Class Card?¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah. It¡¯s not hidden this time. And it¡¯s¡­ a little¡­ weird.¡± March says slowly. ¡°Check it out for yourselves.¡±

    Oh. Guess I could¡¯ve checked beforehand. I pull out my Class Card and press on the notification that¡¯s hovering over everything else.

    Moltensalt Concentration

    Your body carries borrowed powers.

    It sees you as one of its own.

    The Moltensalt Depths welcome you.

    ¡°Ooh, cryptic.¡± Ursula coos with glimmering curiosity. ¡°I¡¯ve got a theory already, but I want to hear what you two think first.¡±

    She turns to me with a wide smile and newfound energy. I press my lips together in thought as March hums in my ears; there¡¯s a lot of assumptions to be made here. Need to make sure I don¡¯t make any that make me look like an idiot. There¡¯s one thing I can easily test before I say anything, though.

    I take a half-step back. My foot lifts completely normally¨Cand it feels like gravity¡¯s pushing down as usual¨Cbut it just¡­ stays there. Hovering in the air as I bring it to right above where I want to plant it down. With a thought the strange weightlessness shifts to extreme gravity, crushing the clover beneath my foot in a stomp that feels like it carries a lot of unspoken anger. It doesn¡¯t shake my bones like it should. In fact, there¡¯s less of a shock on my body than if I¡¯d just stepped normally.

    ¡°Looks¨C¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s¨C¡±

    March and I start talking at the exact same time. I pause to let her keep going, and she doesn¡¯t even stop to recognize that I started.

    ¡°-a good chance you¡¯ve both got the same bonuses that a vendigator got from being possessed by a salt elemental. And some more things that you couldn¡¯t see that it got when you fought it. The buff registers as a Mind buff even though it doesn¡¯t give you any stats.¡±

    Ursula raises an eyebrow and swipes through her Class Card. ¡°Well, shit¨Cyou¡¯re right. Nice catch. Never would¡¯ve thought to check under my stats. How ¡®bout you, Gambler? Sounded like you had something to say.¡±

    ¡°Eh. Architect said pretty much everything I wanted to say.¡± I shrug and open my Class Card to check, and sure enough, there¡¯s a modifier on my Mind. +0. ¡°I didn¡¯t know buffs showed themselves like this.¡±

    ¡°They usually do, but pure stat buffs are actually a lot rarer than you¡¯d think. Most of ¡®em just improve your combat abilities, or one specific aspect of a stat¨Cthat¡¯s when you get the plus zeroes like you see here.¡± Ursula explains as she puts away her Class Card and jumps straight up. ¡°Oh, whoah, that¡¯s weird.¡±

    ¡°Like being weightless without actually being weightless.¡± I agree and push off to meet her midair. My awareness shifts and twists in my mind as I struggle to get used to this new sensation, but with a snap of deep black, everything adjusts. And walking on thin air is just as easy as walking on the ground.

    ¡°Damn, that¡¯s impressive.¡± Ursula whistles as she awkwardly repositions herself. ¡°So, uh, I saw how the vendigator got down. But we¡¯re made of flesh, blood, and snappable bone¨Cnot metal and magic.¡±

    I tilt my head to the side, take a few steps away from the massive crack fifteen feet below, and spread my arms. Ursula narrows her eyes at me like she¡¯s trying to figure out what I¡¯m about to do, but I¡¯ve got no reason to keep her waiting. So I glance down at the ground, smile confidently, and switch from weightlessness to intense gravity.

    She yelps in surprise as I slam into the ground. Salt erupts in a crystalline ripple all around me, molten magic and flower-like crystals melding into one big mass of obscuring salt. But¡­ I don¡¯t stop. The crack reaches out to split the ground beneath my feet, and suddenly, there¡¯s nothing below me. Just unfathomable darkness spreading out in every direction but up.

    My brain takes a few seconds to register what the hell just happened. Walls of salt around me begin to pulse with inner magic moments after I fall beneath them like crappy motion triggered lights. I reach out and dumbly grasp at one of them, which is more than a little too far to touch, and that¡¯s when my awareness finally snaps my mind into place.

    It doesn''t feel like I¡¯m falling. Just like it didn¡¯t feel like I was walking on open air a few seconds ago. I clench my jaw and bend my knees a little before pushing off of nothing. My descent and ascent cancel each other out perfectly, leaving me standing in open air as the molten light draining down the walls finally overtakes me. Slowly but surely revealing yet another massive room underneath the field of clover.

    Except this one¡¯s nowhere near as open. Canopies of flowering salt crystal trees cover at least half of the overhead view, and a sparkling pool of ¡®water¡¯ flows around a massive lotus-like flower that in itself could be a desert oasis. No sunflowers hang from the ceiling, the ground doesn¡¯t look like one continuous mass of the exact same thing¡­

    Compared to the clover field, this almost looks¡­ natural.

    ¡°Gambler?! You Okaaaay?!¡± Ursula¡¯s voice grows louder as she falls to catch up to, and quickly passes, me. She stops awkwardly a good hundred feet below me, jumps a handful of times, and stops right in front of me with relief written plainly on her face. ¡°Oh, thank the lord you¡¯re alright. You just plummeted straight through the ground, and when the dust cleared, you weren¡¯t there any more.¡±

    ¡°Apparently the ground wasn¡¯t as solid as I thought it was. You know, the huge crack should¡¯ve been enough evidence. But apparently not.¡± I nod down towards the ground far below, then look back at Ursula. ¡°Does this stuff look way more complicated than everything else to you too?¡±

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    Ursula raises an eyebrow, then looks down beneath her feet. She murmurs something under her breath that could just as easily be wonder or worry, then purses her lips and crosses her arms.

    ¡°Magic concentration¡¯s way higher down there. And it was already pretty high up here.¡± She cranes her neck to the ceiling and clicks her tongue. ¡°I bet we¡¯ll be fine because of the buff, but it probably would¡¯ve done some serious damage if we didn¡¯t have it. Hell, we¡¯ll probably still get a bunch of creeping debuffs even with the stuff we drank.¡±

    ¡°Creeping debuff?¡±

    She waves my question off. ¡°Just a word Banker came up with for debuffs that get worse over time; nothing official you need to worry about. We tackling this now, or taking a power nap before we risk it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I could keep going for hours.¡±

    ¡°Same here. But let¡¯s take the descent a little slower, just in case.¡±

    I nod in agreement; no reason to fall feet-first into a possible hell when we can acclimate ourselves to it from above. Ursula takes a deep breath to steel herself and shifts awkwardly, then screams in surprise when she suddenly plummets a good twenty feet. She stops on a dime, staggers a little, and takes another deep breath¨Cthis one a little shakier. I laugh to myself and use my awareness to control my drop, plummeting dozens of feet in an instant. Salt and light fly by, and the air gets¡­ grainier. Still just as cold and wet, but now there¡¯s¡­ stuff in there. Like walking through a kitchen after someone dropped a huge bag of flour.

    Ursula yelps as she falls a few feet below me, looks up, and decides she doesn¡¯t need to get our heads at the exact same level. Then she tries to take a third deep breath, hitches halfway through, and breaks out into a coughing fit.

    ¡°Lord¡­ almighty¡­¡± She pounds her chest with one fist and wipes her eyes with the other. ¡°Hope to hell that isn¡¯t going to crystallize in my lungs.¡±

    Wow. Thanks for the brand new fear I hadn¡¯t even thought about. Crystals in my lungs¡­ shit, that¡¯s almost exactly like how the salt took over the vendigator. Is that what this place is trying to do? Make us into hosts for the salt elementals? Well, it¡¯s a damn good thing I can relocate us away from this potential hellhole at any moment. Or else we might already be screwed.

    Sharp cracking followed by a melodic, repetitious shattering grabs my awareness like a rope and yanks me straight to it. There¡¯s nothing visible through the canopy, but my awareness slinks down and through until it meets a mass of¡­ something. The salt in the air is so concentrated that it¡¯s hard to make out any distinct shapes or magic, since they¡¯re all so closely related. The sounds die out just as quickly as they came, but something was distinct enough to get my awareness to flare like that.

    I turn to Ursula, whose face is knotted in thought, and tap her on the shoulder. ¡°Everything¡¯s part of a huge whole down there. I can¡¯t make out anything like the vendigator, and the air is so saturated that it¡¯s hard to tell anything apart. We¡¯ll have to rely on Architect a little more than before.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± March says before Ursula can get a word out. ¡°The magic concentration down here is actually making the devices work faster somehow. I should have a map done in an hour or so. Oh, and there¡¯s still only three exits¨Cbut the place is actually a lot bigger than it looks. Lots of layers. Be careful.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ uncharacteristically chatty for her. And it¡¯s all accompanied by vigorous clicking and tapping, confirming that she¡¯s actually working pretty damn hard right now. If I knew her a little better I¡¯d be able to tell if that¡¯s a good or bad thing. But, uh, from how Ursula¡¯s face is pinched into a worried frown, I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s not great.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± She says flatly. ¡°When you get that working we¡¯ll go down below the treeline. For now, let¡¯s try and keep our feet out of reach of whatever¡¯s making all those noises. You¡¯re, uh, sure it¡¯s not an apocalypse-touched machine?¡±

    ¡°Pretty damn sure. Why?¡±

    She points off into the distance. I follow her finger, and through all the salt in the air, I can barely make out something in the distance. A huge hunk of metal from which grease and oil flow like a cascading waterfall. Not a great thing to see, and from the way it¡¯s half encased in salt, it looks like the elementals are winning handily against the apocalypse.

    ¡°Yeah, that looks pretty bad.¡± I agree. ¡°But what does it have to do with what I saw?¡±

    Ursula insistently points even harder. ¡°Look closer. I¨Cright, your Mind stat isn¡¯t amazing. Even if you¡¯ve got some eye buffs, it won¡¯t do that kind of hard lifting. I think I¡¯ve¡­ yeah. Here.¡±

    A pair of plain old binoculars fly at me. I snatch them out of the air and raise an eyebrow at Ursula.

    ¡°Look at the waterfall and the edges the salt¡¯s encroaching. You¡¯ll see.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    I raise them to my eyes and squint until they¡¯re in focus. The blob of metal and grease looks a whole lot more¡­ brutal. Ripped chunks of metal smash together in senseless angles and broken joints, combining multiple barely discernible colours into one not-quite-monotone chunk. I¡­ can¡¯t make out any one specific machine this could¡¯ve been. There¡¯s broken monitors, pipes, even some things that are probably the actual deep-sea drilling stuff. And that¡¯s not even half of everything that makes up the mass.

    But that¡¯s not what Ursula wanted me to see. No¨Cwhat she wanted me to see is half encrusted in salt. Hundreds of magical pinpricks squirming against a prison of salt. Each belonging to their own elemental-possessed apocalyptic machine monster. I swallow hard as the numbers keep going up and up and up, until I eventually make my way to the waterfall.

    More of them. Things that I can¡¯t identify plummeting down the oily cascade in much smaller numbers, but with far more salt covering them. The vendigators were wearing little pieces of armor. These ones are pilots surrounded by a complete shell of magical salt. Actually¡­ no. They¡¯re vehicles surrounded by another vehicle of salt piloted by an elemental.

    ¡°Shit.¡± I lower the binoculars and hand them back to Ursula. ¡°If they¡¯re that covered in salt, they¡¯re more elemental than apocalyptic.¡±

    Ursula sends the binoculars away and drops a little. She clenches her jaw until she stops, then lowers even more. From the way she looks up at me it seems like she¡¯s got something to say, but she¡¯s definitely focusing one-hundred percent on falling properly. I try to grin and fall down alongside her, but the edges of my mouth don¡¯t feel like rising right now.

    My eyes trail off towards the chunk of metal birthing the salt-coated apocalypse. This place could be infinitely more dangerous than I thought.

    A very loud crunch echoes out. I blink and snap to the source of the noise, and see nothing but a hole in the canopy and a smattering of larger salt crystals floating lazily away from it. And absolutely no sign of Ursula.

    ¡°How the hell¡­¡±

    Mechanical whirring erupts from beneath the treeline. The harsh hum of something rotating very fast joins immediately, and is punctuated by flashes of gunfire. I hiss and try to get myself to fall faster, but somehow, Ursula managed to plummet the last bit way faster than I can manage.

    ¡°Come on, come on.¡± I mutter to myself as I push a few projectiles into coins. ¡°How did she get down there so quickly?¡±

    The canopy rushes up to meet me like a rabid dog. Simple flowers with four diamond-shaped petals each burst into shards as I crash through them, snapping the circular leaves and perfectly cylindrical branches they¡¯re accompanied by as my vision is completely overtaken by monotone salt crystals. Puffs of magic flare out through the destruction and I raise my arms to block my face as my skin is pelted and scoured by everything I fall through. Pain nips then flares as salt makes and gets in the wound, but I barely recognize it through the din of combat going on somewhere below me.

    Blissfully the experience lasts less than a few seconds. The foliage disappears to reveal a scene of carnage; long gashes in the ground, trees standing upright by hope and dreams, and bubbling burn marks creating pools of molten salt giving off visible fumes that make my head spin just by looking at them. And in the middle of all of it is Ursula and something very much apocalypse-touched. Something that my awareness can barely make out from the background radiation of salt.

    Whatever it is, my feet touch the middle of its back before it can even look up at me. Ursula¡¯s eyes go wide as she recognizes what¡¯s happening, and then my entire world turns into oil and jagged metal. With a little bit of an elemental core mixed in for good measure.

    It thrashes violently. But from the half-broken elemental core staring me in the face and leaking magic, it¡¯s not going to be alive for long.

 Chapter 75: Crunch

    ¡°Holy shit, that was awesome.¡±

    I look up through the me-sized hole I find myself stuck in and see Ursula looking down at me, both of her hands clinging to a rifle for dear life. She peels her right hand away to reveal shaking fingers and reaches it down to me.

    ¡°It was a complete accident.¡± I say as I take her hand. She yanks me up in one swift motion, and I step back on thin air to safety. ¡°Thanks. What the hell happened to you? Is there another falling speed I¡¯m not aware of?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± Ursula chuckles shakily. ¡°Way, way faster. I didn¡¯t even have time to scream¨CI was falling one second, and the next I¡¯m on the ground with a bunch of salted cuts and a very angry¡­ whatever this is staring at me.¡±

    ¡®Really angry¡¯ might be an understatement if it¡¯s anything like the vendigators. I force myself to the ground and walk with Ursula around to its head¨Cor the thing that¡¯s supposed to be the head. Half of it is broken off under the salt, and what¡¯s left is rearranged and hanging loosely. This thing was definitely dead before the salt took it over.

    ¡°Does it look like anything you¡¯ve ever seen?¡±

    Ursula thinks for a second, then shakes her head. ¡°Not exactly like this, no. I think it did something to burn the ground, but not in a ¡®breathes fire¡¯ kind of way. Architect, can you cross-reference this thing in the database?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t see it, remember?¡±

    ¡°Right. I¡¯ll upload a scan for you.¡±

    While Ursula does that, I walk around the thing to get a better look at it. At first glance it¡¯s about as long as a vendiator, but much wider and taller. The stuff under the salt is nearly destroyed; rusted, ripped apart, and pitted like something that¡¯s been sitting there for years exposed to the harsh, unforgiving elements. If I look really hard I can imagine it being some kind of turtle, but the head doesn¡¯t fit that. Probably some kind of plated mammal like an armadillo or a pangolin. Except upscaled at least ten times over.

    But¡­ I can¡¯t tell at all what the apocalypse corrupted to make this thing. The vendigator was obvious enough after one good look. This one doesn¡¯t have anything identifying at all. All I¡¯ve got to go on are the scratches, the fact that it had grease inside, and some melted salt without any visible scorch marks.

    I put my hand on the salt and hum in thought. ¡°Could be an industrial stove. Or an incinerator¡­ no, there¡¯d be plenty of fire in that case. A heating system? Some kind of¡­ drill un-freezer?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a grill.¡± March cuts in to destroy any sense of mystique. ¡°An armagrillo. One of my favorite names the system has come up with.¡±

    Ursula raps her knuckles against the salt casing. ¡°This thing¡¯s an armagrillo? Aren¡¯t they usually a shit ton smaller than this?¡±

    ¡°Yup.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Guess that clears things up.¡± Ursula chuckles and takes a step back. ¡°I guess there is a massive surplus of magic here. We should be ready for anything else we come across to be just as big as this one.¡±

    I nod and wipe my fingers on my shirt. Not that it does much.

    ¡°How big¡¯s a normal one of these?¡±

    Ursula holds her hands about four feet apart. ¡°About that much for one normal sized flat-top. The biggest I¡¯ve seen was from an industrial kitchen, and even that sucker was only about two-thirds as big as this¡­ sucker.¡±

    She twists her mouth in disappointment and clicks her tongue. ¡°The salt must be getting to me. Architect, chart us a course to the closest exit. And I don¡¯t really want to ask, but what¡¯s the chance of us exploring all of this before the Preservation finds a way up?¡±

    March snorts out a laugh.

    ¡°Heard loud and clear.¡± Ursula sighs. ¡°Well, guess that means we¡¯re going to have to come up with some kind of plan for when they dock.¡±

    ¡°Either we stay out of sight or we fight them. Doesn¡¯t really seem like we¡¯ve got many other choices.¡± I cross my arms and glance around as more strange sounds echo out. ¡°We need to move. There¡¯s no way nothing else heard that, and I¡¯m not waiting around for a massive vendigator to burst through the ground and snap me up in one bite.¡±

    ¡°Take to the trees?¡±

    I think for a second, then nod. ¡°Sounds like the safest bet until Architect finds us the best path. Watch out for¡­ monkeys and birds.¡±

    ¡°And snakes, and tree-dwelling rodents, and a bunch of other stuff.¡± Ursula adds helpfully. ¡°Hey, if everything¡¯s giant here, then nothing¡¯ll be able to sneak up on us. Not with how densely packed the trees are.¡±

    She walks up to the tree we crashed through and pats it on the trunk. I shoot her a look of disbelief when it really seems like she¡¯s going to choose that one to climb. With a glance back at me she purses her lips and walks away from this tree with a guilty whistle, moving a half-dozen over until she gets to one that hasn¡¯t been damaged by us or the armagrillo. I roll my eyes and follow after her, pushing off into the air with every step I take until I reach the bottom of the canopy. Up close, it¡¯s even more obvious how simple these trees are compared to everything else.

    Ursula climbs up a moment later, grabs the lowest hanging branch, and pulls herself onto it. She leans back against the tree with her arms crossed, reaches for one of the simple flowers, and plucks it.

    ¡°What do you make of this, Gambler?¡±

    ¡°The flower?¡±

    She nods. ¡°It¡¯s extremely simple where everything else we¡¯ve seen has been extremely complex. The clover, the sunflowers, the flowers from the first room; they¡¯re almost like detailed reproductions of real-like things. Or¡­ caricatures, I guess, in the sunflowers¡¯ case. But these? And the rest of the tree?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re way too simple.¡± I answer her question before she can pose it. Then I cross my arms and nod down at the trunk, which is pretty much just a perfect glass cylinder. ¡°Have you ever seen a pre-alpha build of a game? Or an animated movie before they go in and touch everything up?¡±

    Ursula frowns and shakes her head. ¡°Only played or watched ¡®em¨Chad no interest in how they were made.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s what this reminds me of. Basic shapes that give enough of an idea, but that still need to have detail put into them. Hell, even the ground is barebones. I mean, just look at it; if you didn¡¯t know it was naturally formed, you¡¯d think someone came through and smoothed everything out.¡±

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Except for the damage we did.¡± Ursula adds with a smarmy grin.

    I roll my eyes with a sigh. ¡°Yes, except for the damage we did. But that huge flower, and everything outside the treeline looked¡­ not simple? What¡¯s the word for that again?¡±

    ¡°Complex.¡± March says.

    ¡°Complex, thank you.¡± I nod at nothing, then grab a branch hanging above me. It feels¡­ terrifyingly solid. Especially since I can easily wrap my hand around it. ¡°Everything but right here is complex. Is there anything we can do with that fact? Does it even matter at all?¡±

    Ursula shrugs and unwraps an energy bar. ¡°Hell if I know. This could be the origin point of all the salt, or it could be the latest development and that¡¯s why it¡¯s so simple. Or it could¡¯ve taken on some aspect from the rig. Unless we find something to talk to or the system decides to let us identify plain ground, we won¡¯t be finding out any time soon. How¡¯s it coming, Architect?¡±

    ¡°Give me fifteen seconds.¡± March says, then proceeds to hum loudly enough that nobody else can say anything for exactly fifteen seconds straight. ¡°All done. There¡¯s an exit under the waterfall, one beneath the ground, and another halfway up a wall. The wall one¡¯s the closest and has the least danger between you and it.¡±

    ¡°Perfect, thank you very much.¡± Ursula says without moving from her spot. She summons another energy bar and tosses it to me. ¡°We¡¯ll get right on that after a snack break. All this jumping and falling is murder on my energy levels.¡±

    One very salty meal later, Ursula and I make our way through the canopy to the treetops. The sounds of salt-coated monsters grows louder by the second, but I can¡¯t tell if that¡¯s because of us or just because they¡¯re having some territory dispute. I choose to think it¡¯s a territory dispute because the other option has some dangerous ramifications. Real dangerous ramifications.

    ¡°Weird that there¡¯s no flying things.¡± I point out as we start walking. ¡°Or does something have to be able to fly when it¡¯s a machine for it to fly when the apocalypse takes it?¡±

    ¡°Mmm¡­ no, I don¡¯t think so.¡± Ursula says. ¡°But flying takes way more energy than it¡¯s worth. If the apocalypse has to force wings onto something that didn¡¯t already fly, it has to forsake a bunch of other stuff. ¡®Course that might not matter with all this magic in the air.¡±

    ¡°So don¡¯t expect it, but also don¡¯t completely write it off. Especially since everything should be able to jump and air-walk just like we can.¡± I purse my lips and glance down at the ground. A pair of huge animals¨Calmost like elephants¨Csaunter over a stretch of open ground. They flicker once, the air shifting around them in an icy mist, and then they disappear. ¡°Alright, we need to move way faster. If we draw any real attention we¡¯re screwed.¡±

    Ursula nods in agreement and breaks into a sprint. I¡­ guess that¡¯s what I asked for, so I can¡¯t complain. Even when every breath draws in a large fries worth of salt and sends it straight down to my lungs. The moisture in my mouth doesn¡¯t diminish at all, even with all the salt. Maybe that¡¯s one of the reasons it¡¯s there. Or maybe it¡¯s just a lucky byproduct.

    More apocalypse-touched monsters pass by underneath us. Snakes, frogs, a single huge boar, and a pack of fox-like things with huge ears and multiple tails that look like fan blades. I can¡¯t make out what anything but the foxes are mixed with, which is more than a little worrying. Not that the vendigator had multiple vending-machine related powers I could use that knowledge to avoid.

    ¡°Fox-fans. Industrial sized.¡± Ursula notes, and I realize I must¡¯ve been pretty obvious in my staring. ¡°Usually not the most dangerous things, but from how sharp those blades look, I¡¯d bet they¡¯re not like the house fans we¡¯re used to dealing with.¡±

    ¡°Definitely not.¡±

    From the slight quirk in Ursula¡¯s eyebrow, that apparently wasn¡¯t the answer she was looking for. I consider trying again, but a loud splash and a monstrously huge pillar of oily grease yanks my thoughts away and scraps any previous conversation clean. We share a worried look and hurry the hell up.

    ¡°The hell was that?¡± I ask above a growing din that threatens to consume this entire place. It¡¯s like a tornado siren muted by a thin layer of water twisted into some unfathomable melody.

    ¡°No freaking idea.¡± Ursula says quickly. ¡°Whatever it is, we¡¯re not gonna be here when it runs rampant through this place. Architect, how¡¯s the size of its dot compared to the others?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell yet. The grease is making it hard to see.¡± March murmurs. ¡°Be careful please.¡±

    Ursula curses under her breath and puts a hand on one of her guns. ¡°Run, Gambler. Don¡¯t look back.¡±

    The noise hits a crescendo that slashes directly into my mind and prods at everything that makes me shiver. Fear. Cold. Anticipation. Even pleasure¨Ceverything muddled into one long, wracking shake that leaves traces of vibrations ringing in my bones. I blink away the freakish mixture of sensations rolled into one and grit my teeth. The sound¡¯s still there in the background; it¡¯s on a downswing, sure, but that just means there¡¯ll be another crescendo soon.

    ¡°Whatever it is, it¡¯s powerful.¡± I say through chattering teeth and a jaw that wants to stay clenched. ¡°Can you identify it?¡±

    ¡°Trying that now.¡± Ursula grinds out through clenched teeth. ¡°Not working. Stupid system restriction bullshit.¡±

    A very stupid thought enters my mind. I glance back at the now still waterfall, where something blurry and small seems to stand at the base. Identify fails the moment I bring it up. But I¡¯ve got a skill that should be able to overwrite it. Only problem is that I never figured out how to cool it down. And a quick look into my Class Card shows that it hasn¡¯t magically happened since I last used it.

    ¡°Nothing we can do about it now. But we might have to regroup way sooner than we thought.¡±

    My awareness latches onto something above me. I snap to the right and barely sidestep a massive salt pillar plummeting from on high, then grab Ursula to keep her from walking directly into the path of another.

    ¡°What¡¯re you¡­¡± She starts, then freezes when the pillar nearly brushes her arm. ¡°Nevermind, thank you very much.¡±

    I nod and point upwards. ¡°More coming. Not sure how, since there weren¡¯t any pillars hanging from the ceiling, but¨C¡±

    A spike of molten pain stabs into my skull. My vision goes dark for a second, flashes back to molten brightness, and goes dark once more. I nearly crumple into a ball from the pulsing agony behind my eyes, but closing them does nothing to dull the pain. Another pillar falls into my awareness, followed by another, and another, and another¨Ceach carrying a little more magic than the one before it. I wrench my eyes open as Ursula grabs my and pulls me out of the way.

    ¡°Can¡¯t move.¡± I mumble through the pain. ¡°Brain hurts.¡±

    Ursula hisses through her teeth and starts awkwardly running. More throbs of intense pain dig deep into my brain, each accompanying one of the pillars slamming into the ground below. Shrieks of panic rise up from the different salt-crusted apocalyptic monsters. They bounce around in my skull like cannonballs, plowing through logical thought and leaving nothing but molten darkness.

    An edge of utter cold wraps around the pain. My awareness flares like a miniature sun, and Pearl flails wildly to try and get my attention. I nod as best as I can to try and show that I can see her. She just flails harder and harder, waving her hands in a near perfect circle that starts to glow¡­ black. And clear. And¡­ molten?

    A soundless voice crashes into me. It sings with the death throes of the monsters below. It revels in the crunching of metal and extinguishing of tiny lights. No intelligence lies behind the quiet sadism, and the creaking of something born of the deepest depths of magic slowly begins to truly stir. To begin opening its eyes to a world that it wants to kill¨Cand that wants to kill it.

    The krarig¡¯s voice flows through me. And over me. Like a river running over one of so many pebbles lodged in its basin. Pearl brings her hands together and violently shakes her head as my nearly limp body flails over Ursula¡¯s shoulder. Then¡­ Pearl separates her hands and nods just as vigorously. She¡¯s trying to tell me something.

    Not together¡­ but separate? What does that mean?

    Molten salt seeps in around me. My pupils dilate as sensations wrap around me like cool sheets on a warm summer night. Comfort and pain war for purchase, yet somehow, they settle in like there¡¯s space for the both of them. A single droplet of salt begins to fall from the edges of my vision, stealing salt from the border until none remains except for the drop and the tiny string connecting it to my¡­ whatever this is.

    It begins to glow even brighter. Like an elemental core connected to my mind through the thinnest of threads while the krarig pounds down on me with the violent uncaring of something so large it can¡¯t even sense me.

    ¡­Can¡¯t sense me. But¡­ something was watching us all this time. If it wasn¡¯t the krarig¡­

    What the hell else is here?

 Chapter 76: Branching Paths

    ¡°Oh God, oh God, oh Lord oh God.¡± Ursula mutters without looking behind her. ¡°Architect! What the hell¡¯s going on?!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! That¡¯s¡­ I don¡¯t know!¡± March repeats with frustration. ¡°It¡¯s way more magical than anything else we¡¯ve seen so far. And the falling thorns are¡­ weird! I don¡¯t know!¡±

    ¡°They hurt my head.¡± I grumble and try to wrench my eyes open. The light hurts too much. ¡°I don¡¯t know why, but when they hit the ground it feels like they¡¯re directly hitting my brain. Making me shiver in pain.¡±

    ¡°Shiver? Like¡­ from being too cold?¡± Ursula asks with a frown in her voice. ¡°I haven¡¯t felt a change in temp. Must be some magical bullshit going on, but why¡¯s it only hurting you?¡±

    She¡¯s¡­ perfectly fine? Nothing at all? I try to lift my head and manage to point myself towards the thing under the waterfall. There¡¯s only two reasons she¡¯d be fine; her Mind stat¡¯s higher than mine, or she doesn¡¯t have an awareness. But Pearl¡¯s perfectly fine too. So¡­ what the hell is it?

    ¡°No debuff?¡±

    Ursula shakes her head in confirmation. ¡°Nothing. Not even a notification saying my stats fought off a debuff.¡±

    Shit. So it is just me. A whole-body shiver nearly makes Ursula drop me, but she manages to right me at the last second.

    ¡°Thanks for not dropping me.¡±

    ¡°Not sure you¡¯d fall even if I did.¡± She chuckles warily. ¡°Architect, where¡¯s the entrance? Can¡¯t see it from where we are.¡±

    March taps on her keys, then hits one with slightly more vigor. ¡°Up twenty feet from you and directly in front.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha.¡± Ursula grunts and pushes off even harder. More pillars¨Cthorns, I mean¨Ccement themselves into the ground and equally in my brain. I must be twitching something fierce, because Ursula winces and tightens her grip around my legs. ¡°Shit, Gambler, you still with me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I grind out.

    From how Ursula¡¯s shoulders rise, that seems to surprise her. Honestly I¡¯d love to pass out right about now, but the pain isn¡¯t the kind for that. It¡¯s the kind of agony that makes everything way too clear and keeps your mind as alert as possible.

    Torture. It¡¯s torture.

    ¡°Hold on for a few seconds more. I think I¡­ yeah, there it is!¡± Ursula shouts and jumps three times. Her shoulder digs hard into my stomach, but it¡¯s the least of everything I¡¯m feeling right now. ¡°An outcropping with a hole in it we gotta drop down into. I¡¯m going in, Gambler. If the sensations don¡¯t get any better soon, relocate us back to the surface.¡±

    A little confused noise burbles involuntarily free from my throat. ¡°Both of us? What about the job?¡±

    ¡°The job? Sister, the job ain¡¯t worth shit if it means one of us goes home in a body bag.¡± Ursula wraps her arms around me tight, and then everything starts to drop. ¡°Damn client should¡¯ve signed on months earlier if she really needed this shit. Or she could¡¯ve been a goddamn normal person and hid the coin away somewhere a little safer than an abandoned oil rig!¡±

    ¡°Mrgh.¡± I mumble in agreement, but a little part of me doesn¡¯t want to leave.

    There¡¯s something else here. And whether that thing in the waterfall is said something else¨Cor if we haven¡¯t even run into it yet¨Cit¡¯ll be lost when the krarig is completely tainted. All the elementals will lose their source of magic, all the non-krarig apocalypse monsters will be killed, and all the salt will disappear completely.

    It just feels like such a waste. A waste that¡¯s trying to rip my brain apart with a frustratingly painful mixture of sensations, but a waste nonetheless. I involuntarily clench my jaw at another wracking all-shiver. We need to find out what¡¯s causing this shit if we¡¯re going to stay here.

    ¡°Architect.¡±

    March whimpers quietly. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Find anything on salt elementals. See if it¡¯s them that¡¯s causing this.¡±

    ¡°Of course! Please don¡¯t push yourself.¡±

    A little too late for that.

    And for the next little while Ursula just¡­ runs. The shivers never get any less intense, but they do come further and further apart. Nothing comes close to the rapid-fire pain and shivers from the very beginning, though now that I¡¯ve got a few minutes to recover between the thorns of agony, I can almost work through it.

    Almost.

    I wince and rub my temples as my body defies me, then take a raggedy breath and slowly open and close my eyes. Ursula sits across from me on a chunk of crystal that somehow grew sideways, and I¡¯m on its slightly larger twin. Magic pulsates through everything around us in much greater quantities than before, but it doesn¡¯t seem to have anything to do with the shivers.

    Ursula leans in and gently pats my shoulder. ¡°How¡¯s the head?¡±

    ¡°About as good as I can hope.¡± I sigh as I lower my hands to rest on my thighs. ¡°Give¡­ gimme a few seconds and I¡¯ll put down some relocation coins.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good. Take all the time you need, sister.¡± She gives my shoulder one last squeeze, then walks away. ¡°Architect?¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°I¡­ I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± March whispers apologetically. ¡°The only information on salt elementals comes from the other world. It doesn¡¯t say anything about anything like this.¡±

    Shit. I was really hoping that there¡¯d be some obvious explanation to this. But I guess I might be the first human to get shellraiser awareness, so even if this exact thing was happening somewhere else, people probably wouldn¡¯t be affected the same way I am. It doesn¡¯t offer any relief, but a possible explanation is better than nothing.

    I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and push relocation into two coins. Ursula accepts hers without even looking, holds it to her chest, and hands it right back to me. Looking around for a few seconds finds a nice little nook for me to hide them, and I slowly push myself to my feet to walk over there. Shivering thorns wedge themselves in my thoughts as I drop the coins which fall to the ground with dull clinks.

    Ursula watches carefully the entire time. ¡°You gonna manage?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I say and manage a small smile. ¡°Let¡¯s get as far away from this thing as we can.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t gotta tell me twice.¡± She chuckles and steps up right next to me. ¡°I¡¯ll be right here if it gets real bad again. And don¡¯t hesitate to relocate outta here if you can¡¯t take it any more¨Cno need to warn me beforehand.¡±

    My chest warms a little from Ursula¡¯s words. It¡¯s taken over almost instantly by the shivers, but I know it was there. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯m still going to try to warn you.¡±

    ¡°Appreciate it. Lead the way and set the pace.¡±

    I nod slightly and start moving for real. Every step is a struggle with the remnants of whatever that thing under the waterfall did to me, and I have to catch myself on the crystalline salt wall more than a few times when the shivers send me staggering. Ursula keeps me from full-on falling down every single time and patiently waits for me as the sensations dull to let me move again.

    But¡­ more than the pain or the discomfort¡­ it''s frustrating. I¡¯m just goddamn walking¨Cit¡¯s not rocket science, so why am I struggling so much? Pearl¡¯s perfectly fine¨Csitting in her shell biting her lip with worry and a different kind of frustration¨Cand Ursula¡¯s obviously not struggling in the slightest. If I wasn¡¯t slowing us down right now, we¡¯d be more than a few dozen feet down this salt tunnel and a whole lot closer to whatever awaits us in the next room.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± I mutter under my breath as I struggle to shrug off another thorn.

    Ursula wraps an arm around me and helps me back to standing up straight. ¡°Not your fault the weird magic thing hit you instead of me. I know it sounds horrible, but it¡¯s way better that only one of us got the shit end of the stick. Next time I get knocked down by some magical asshole, it¡¯ll be your turn to throw your arm over my shoulder and pull me down a hallway. Deal?¡±

    I shake my head and chuckle. ¡°Not much of a deal, but sure.¡±

    Almost an hour later, the tunnel finally starts to open up. The constant barrage of thorns dulls to one every five minutes or so, making it possible to confidently walk on my own for about four minutes at a time, and it¡¯s only going down the further and further we get. I choose to take that as a good sign, and try to forget that I¡¯ll have to go back there at some point. Some point very soon.

    ¡°It¡¯s smaller than I thought it¡¯d be. Be really careful; the place is surrounded by elemental signatures.¡± March warns us, then audibly leans back in her chair. ¡°No sign of any Class Coins. You could skip this room.¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°If nothing attacks us, there¡¯s no harm in looking around. Especially since turning back means going back to the thing in the waterfall.¡±

    That gets a good shudder out of me. Ursula winces and throws her arm around my shoulder, but I gently brush her off.

    ¡°That one was natural.¡± I assure her and step up to the edge of the tunnel. The salt in the air¡¯s gotten so thick that it¡¯s like walking in a blizzard, so I can barely see a few feet in front of me. ¡°Any elementals on our level, or are they all above or below us?¡±

    ¡°All above and below.¡±

    ¡°Both a good omen and a few scary as hell possibilities.¡± Ursula sighs as she joins me at the edge. ¡°Architect, can you tell what the room¡¯s like through all this salt?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡­ wait.¡± March¡¯s chair squeaks, and her voice gets a little louder like she just got closer to the mic. ¡°It¡¯s really fuzzy, but I think¡­ wow. This room¡¯s mostly on the blueprints.¡±

    I cross my arms and lean over the edge to try and get a better look. All I can see from up here is something that might be a floor a good ten feet down, and a whole bunch of salt along the one wall I can trace down to said floor.

    ¡°How can it be ¡®mostly¡¯ on the blueprints?¡±

    March hums loudly and doesn¡¯t answer right away. Her hums get louder and quieter as I shoot Ursula a questioning look, but she just shrugs and signals for me to wait. Apparently this isn¡¯t the first time March has done this.

    ¡°I found it!¡± She exclaims. ¡°This is part of the pump room¨Cand it should lead to a storage room, but there¡¯s no other exits I can see.¡±

    ¡°Part of a pump room? What¡¯s that; one pump?¡± Ursula asks as she jumps down into the room. Her feet hit the crystal with an almost glassy note, and she looks around with a frown. ¡°Huh. Pretty sure metal coated in solid salt shouldn¡¯t make that noise. You comin¡¯ down, Gambler?¡±

    I hop down next to her and bend my knees to absorb the impact. She nods at me, then summons a flashlight and holds it like a night watchman as she scans the room. It doesn¡¯t do a good job seeing through the salt, but she must have her reasons.

    ¡°I think the other parts of it are completely sealed in salt.¡± March mutters in a way that I¡¯m not sure if she meant for us to hear it or not. ¡°If you followed the left wall, and there¡¯s half of something jutting up from the ground, then it¡¯d definitely be cut off.¡±

    Okay, that definitely doesn¡¯t sound like it was meant for us. Ursula puts her hand on the left wall anyway, tracing a path along the room¡¯s perimeter as she walks. I follow closely behind while looking around cautiously for any of the elementals March warned us about. The glow of magic completely overtakes everything, though, so I wouldn¡¯t know an elemental was there until it smacked me in the face.

    A soft thunk echoes out. Ursula slows to a stop, then turns and gestures for me to come closer. I don¡¯t need to move much to bring a huge¡­ thing into view. Half of a thing, to be precise. It doesn¡¯t look like any drill or pumpjack I¡¯ve ever seen, that¡¯s for sure.

    ¡°The hell is this?¡± Ursula mutters to herself as she scans her flashlight over the hunk of metal. ¡°It ain¡¯t moving, so the apocalypse hasn¡¯t gotten to it yet, but it definitely doesn¡¯t look like it belongs here.¡±

    I lean in and tap my knuckles against it, and it¡­ reverberates. Like a sheet of metal instead of a solid chunk. It¡¯s also weirdly coloured¨Cyellow and black¨Cwith a huge cut-out indent at the bottom that looks like something¡¯s supposed to go there. I turn around and face the middle of the room, where another pump might be, and suddenly, there¡¯s no salt there. It¡¯s still in the peripherals, but there¡¯s a perfect path from me to the chunky mechanical thing that juts up through the floor and extends into the ceiling.

    Now that¨Cthat¡¯s what I expected a pump to look like. Not whatever the hell is half-encased in salt.

    I turn back and almost fall over at the disturbing clarity that¡¯s now on display. Ursula still shines her flashlight at the thing as if she can¡¯t see beyond her nose, but from where I stand, it¡¯s beyond obvious what¡¯s encased in salt. What¡¯s even more obvious is that it shouldn¡¯t be here.

    An industrial dump truck doesn¡¯t belong on an offshore oil rig, after all.

 Chapter 77: Out Of Place

    I¡­ don¡¯t even know where to start thinking about this. Offshore platforms like this aren¡¯t exactly my forte, but even I know that huge, heavy machinery like this shouldn¡¯t be here. From how utterly massive the thing is, it shouldn¡¯t even be able to fit in a room this size. I look back to the pumps, which now look so small in comparison to the dumptruck, then back to the thing. It¡¯s like an optical illusion, except I¡¯m standing right in the middle of it. And it¡¯s somehow¡­ working.

    ¡°You got something, Gambler?¡± Ursula looks right at me and nods back at the dumptruck. ¡°Got any ideas about what this hunk of metal is?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got more than an idea.¡± I shake my head and take a few steps back. The room seems to stretch massively around the dumptruck, spilling over into something unbelievably huge stuck in a wall of salt. ¡°Architect, what¡¯s the chance of a dumptruck being here for any believable reason? Or even that our client brought it in for some asinine reason?¡±

    ¡°Zero.¡± March says without hesitation. ¡°...Is that what¡¯s stuck in the wall?¡±

    Ursula blinks in disbelief and turns back to the metal. Her gaze catches on what I now know is a wheel well that¡¯s big enough for someone to set up a small trailer in and makes an unsettled noise deep in her throat.

    ¡°Lord, that¡¯s weird. Beyond horrible for us if the apocalypse takes it, too.¡± She mutters under her breath and crosses her arms as she leans in to get a closer look. ¡°Still can¡¯t see jack shit through all this salt, but I guess you can. So you get to be our eyes for the next little while. Keep a watch out for any of those elementals around us getting close to this truck, yeah?¡±

    I already started doing that the moment I recognized what it was, but I nod anyway.

    ¡°Good.¡± Ursula grimaces and knocks the metal with her foot. ¡°We gotta find out if this room¡¯s got anything important about it and get out as fast as possible. I think my lungs are starting to get encrusted.¡±

    ¡°Shit tons of elementals and an out-of-place dump truck. What makes you think there¡¯s anything important about this place?¡± I spread my fingers and gesture at the dumptruck, then back at the pump and all the controls. ¡°We¡¯re just looking for the safe. It¡¯s not here. Unless we¡¯re going to destroy the dumptruck before the apocalypse can get at it, I¡¯d say we¡¯re better off going right back to home base.¡±

    A thorn of shivers painfully embeds itself in my brain. Ursula worriedly watches me twitch, but she doesn¡¯t say anything. Not in agreement or to the contrary. She just walks carefully up to one of the pumps, rests her hands on it for a second, then goes right to the controls. All the while wearing an expression that shifts from worry to pensive as she fiddles with long-dead machinery.

    ¡°What do you think we¡¯d pull up if we could get these pumps working again?¡±

    I sigh through my nose and shrug. ¡°Way more trouble than it¡¯s worth. If you want a serious answer¡­ molten salt, some of that dark water, or the oil-grease the waterfall was made of. Nothing we couldn¡¯t get somewhere else where it¡¯s way easier to breathe.¡±

    Ursula hums in thought and just keeps pressing random buttons. I lick my lips and instantly regret it, then walk up next to her and peer over her shoulder at the controls. There¡¯s no touchscreen¨Cjust a regular-ass keyboard that looks like it¡¯s been bolted under a black and green computer display.

    ¡°Whoever made this cut every corner possible.¡± I note sarcastically as I rap my knuckles against the untouched screen. ¡°Give me fifteen minutes and fifty bucks and I could whip up something better than this. I know it was made a while ago, but this has to be someone¡¯s impromptu repair job.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡± Ursula leans in and twists one of the bolts. Much to both of our surprises, it starts to squeak free. ¡°Huh. Thought this would¡¯ve rusted together by now. ¡­Actually, why isn¡¯t there any salt or rust on this thing at all?¡±

    She pats the pump it¡¯s connected to, which is so rusted, pitted, and salt-crusted that it doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯d ever work again. In comparison, the jury-rigged controls are pristine. Cheap, but pristine. I glance down at the keyboard, looking for some kind of brand, and freeze the moment I find what I¡¯m looking for.

    A cross made out of four old-timey keys. One of the symbols from the client¡¯s letter. It¡¯s utterly pristine¨Cjust like the rest of the keyboard¨Cand it glows ever so slightly orange. Fate is drawing me towards it, but with all the saturation of magical salt, I couldn¡¯t even see it. Which also means I might¡¯ve missed a whole lot more magic.

    I tap my earpiece as Ursula hurriedly starts turning bolts. ¡°Architect. Can I get a search on any brands who¡¯ve used the key-cross as a logo in any of their products.¡±

    ¡°On it.¡±

    The clang of metal on salt draws my attention to Ursula as March starts to type furiously. All of the bolts that previously held the keyboard onto the console now lie uselessly on the floor, and Ursula carefully jiggles the thing out of the space it was filling. Little by little she reveals a small space directly behind it¨Cbarely big enough to fit a few paperclips¨Cand two small pieces of dark blue paper flutter free. Both no bigger than a ticket you¡¯d find at an arcade, and both shimmering like they¡¯re made of the dark waters around the rig.

    She leans down to pick up one and I catch the other on my boot before it can hit the ground. The moment it hits my foot liquid cold shoots through my veins, threatening to freeze my blood in place as shards of frost dance in the corners of my vision. Slowly but surely the ticket twists, winces, and quickly turns stark white as salt crystals encroach over something that never got the chance to do whatever the hell it was supposed to.

    ¡°Shit.¡± Ursula hisses as her ticket crystallizes. ¡°The keyboard must¡¯ve been protecting them somehow. What if we needed ¡®em to open the vault?¡±

    ¡°Then we better hope there¡¯s a failsafe.¡± I say as I reach down and pluck my ticket from my boot. ¡°Was that frost magic? Or ice magic¨Cwhatever¡¯s the correct term for the stuff.¡±

    ¡°Ice magic, yeah. Pretty common on the other world, and a little less common here on Earth. But this stuff¡¯s definitely from another human.¡± Ursula tries to crunch her ticket in her hand. It doesn¡¯t. ¡°Huh, it¡¯s a tough bugger. Maybe it¡¯ll still have some kind of use when we find the vault.¡±

    March gently taps her microphone to get our attention. ¡°Sorry. There¡¯s nothing on the internet about a brand with this symbol, and nothing on the symbol either. Nothing new since I looked them up a few days ago.¡±

    Nothing at all? That¡¯s¡­ really weird. Ursula frowns and grabs the keyboard once more, flipping it over to get a better look at the side that touched the tickets.

    ¡°No signs of frost, and no damage at all. And unless my brain¡¯s failing me extremely hard, I can¡¯t even sense a trace of magic on this bad boy.¡± She flips it over again and starts tapping on random keys. ¡°Switches still make some nice tapping noises, too. Honestly, this thing feels like a really high quality keyboard, even though it looks like it belongs in some computer shop¡¯s bargain bin. You want it for your collection, Architect?¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Yes, please.¡±

    As Ursula not-so-carefully rips into the console to get at the plugs, I take the mask out of my inventory and try to put the ticket in its place.

    This item does not belong to you.

    I nod to myself. Something told me there was another layer to this, but I don¡¯t have any idea what that layer means. The ticket almost felt like it was trying to hurt me¨Clike some kind of failsafe for whoever managed to get this close to the vault. That could just be how ice magic does its thing, though, and I¡¯m getting all suspicious about nothing. I flip it around in my fingers a few times, send my mask back to my inventory, and wait for Ursula to be done with the keyboard.

    ¡°Oh, uh, you might not be able to put that in your inventory. Someone else owns the tickets, so I bet they own the keyboard too.¡±

    Ursula looks up at me, then frowns at the keyboard. ¡°Good point. Might as well give it a shot anyway.¡± She reaches into a mess of wires with her fingers trailing the one that leads off the keyboard. ¡°There¡¯s probably something in here that¡¯d reset all these pumps. Can you get into it from what we¡¯ve already set up, or is it a closed system?¡±

    ¡°If I could get into it, I¡¯d already be in it.¡± March replies. ¡°Do you still have the USB?¡±

    ¡°That I do.¡± Ursula confirms as a wide grin spreads across her face. She pulls hard, and the keyboard¡¯s cord disconnects. ¡°Bingo. Now let¡¯s¨C¡±

    The keyboard disappears. I raise an eyebrow as her face knits together in confusion.

    ¡°Guess the keyboard didn¡¯t belong to anyone.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t do that.¡± She says slowly, then begins looking around the room. ¡°There was a flash of molten magic, the keyboard turned to stone, and then¡­ I¡­ did you see any of that, either of you?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°No. But the elemental activity just went way up.¡±

    Shit. I grab Ursula¡¯s shoulder and ready both of our relocations for the moment they close in on us. Her body shakes under my touch, far more than I¡¯ve ever felt, but I don¡¯t see any fear in her eyes. Just a whole lot of confusion which doesn¡¯t explain the jitters.

    ¡°What did you see when it disappeared?¡±

    She swallows hard and clenches her shaking hands. ¡°Salt. So much salt, and then it all broke apart, and then the broken pieces fell through the ground where elementals ate them up. You really didn¡¯t see any of that? Nothing at all?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Nothing at all. You think the keyboard did it to you?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ yeah¡­. Yeah. It has to be that.¡± She says confidently, but doesn¡¯t stop shaking. Does she even know it¡¯s happening? ¡°Must be some damned failsafe, just like the cards turning pure white before they turned to salt. They felt all the magic in the air and self-destructed using me as a conduit.¡±

    ¡­Except Ursula doesn¡¯t have any access to mana. And neither do I. I start moving to point it out, but the flash of a sneer on Ursula¡¯s face and a quick glance at her Class Card tells me she just had the exact same thought. She shakes it off and summons a USB, reaches her hand once more into the wires, and fiddles around with it.

    ¡°Damn things. Don¡¯t work at first, don¡¯t work when you flip ¡®em once, and then they work when you flip ¡®em again. If I didn¡¯t know they were a purely human thing, I¡¯d say the apocalypse made ¡®em screwy on purpose.¡± She mutters to herself, then sighs in relief and pulls her hand away. ¡°Transmission should be happening right now, Architect. Tell me when you¡¯ve got it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I already have it.¡± March says. ¡°It¡¯s just the controls to the pumps in a closed circuit. Wait¡­ there¡¯s also a database of all the activations. Most of them are from before this place got shut down¨Cbefore the apocalypse, even¨Cbut there¡¯s two activations after that.¡±

    Ursula holds out two fingers and makes a ¡®go on motion¡¯. ¡°Lay it on us.¡±

    ¡°Okay. The first one¡¯s from almost eight years ago, and it only lasted a hundred and eighty seconds. The second one was a year and four months ago. And¡­ this can¡¯t be right¡­¡± March taps her keyboard a few times. ¡°¡­Apparently they¡¯ve been on ever since then.¡±

    They¡¯re¡­ on? How¡¯s that possible? I lean in to the pump and press my ear to the crystalline salt, trying to hear anything at all through it, but there¡¯s nothing. Not a peep. Heavy machinery like this¨Cespecially the old stuff from before all the safety regulations were in place¨Cshould be making a shit ton of noise.

    Unless¡­ it¡¯s broken. Which is by far the better explanation than anything else I could come up with.

    ¡°It¡¯s broken, right Architect?¡±

    ¡°No?¡±

    I blink twice in surprise. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re excused. It¡¯s pumping out a little over two hundred gallons of¡­ something every day. It¡¯s also the only pump that¡¯s working, even though there¡¯s a few that aren¡¯t completely sealed in the salt. I¡¯ll stop the flow. Do you have any drones, Mercenary?¡±

    ¡°That I do.¡± Ursula summons two small orbs to the palm of her hand. ¡°Hopefully they¡¯ll still work with all this interference. Tell me when it¡¯s clear so we can bust this sucker open.¡±

    Bust it open? Isn¡¯t that incredibly dangerous?

    ¡°It¡¯s stopped. Give it thirty seconds to drain, then you¡¯re good to go.¡±

    Uh. I open my mouth to start asking a question, then snap it shut as Ursula reaches into her pack and pulls out a satchel charge that glitters with magic. She turns back to me and grins, flicks her fingers at me to back away, and starts counting down out loud.

    ¡°Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen¡­¡±

    The call of the other side of the room suddenly takes on a siren-like quality. I take a few huge steps back and fill two ghost quarters with shields in anticipation of everything going wrong as Ursula plants the charge, taps on it a few times, and nods to herself when a bright blue light starts to blink. She turns and walks right towards me while fiddling around in her pack.

    ¡°Five, four¡­¡± She continues and pulls out a detonator with multiple unlit LEDs on it. And one that¡¯s lit. ¡°Three, two, one.¡±

    She clicks the lever.

    A solid blue sphere appears where the pump was. Magic roars off of it like an industrial-sized forge, but it doesn¡¯t make a single sound. I back into the wall as my awareness gets a full-blast of the detonation¨Cwhich is nowhere near as bad as the thorns¨Cand grit my teeth as I feel everything in the walls. All the elementals staring at us; watching and waiting for an unknown signal.

    Ursula twirls the detonator around her finger before shoving it back in her pack. She waits to speak until the strange explosion dies down, leaving a perfectly sheared sphere out of the pump. We both stand here for a few more seconds¨Cas if the geyser of molten salt or grease is just delayed.

    ¡°Zero.¡± She chuckles and tosses the drones into the air. One of them zips up the pump, and the other down. ¡°Good thing the magical interference in here didn¡¯t mess with the detonation. Could¡¯ve used a timer, but I¡¯ve never been comfortable with them. How about we start making our way back, then¨C¡±

    Metallic groaning abruptly cuts Ursula off. She frowns and looks towards where the sound¡¯s coming from, then blanches. I screw my eyes shut and hiss a curse through tightly pressed lips¨Cthere¡¯s only one metal thing in that direction that could be groaning.

    ¡°The elementals are moving!¡± March cries out. ¡°You need to get out of there!¡±

    ¡°Heard loud and clear.¡± Ursula confirms and grabs my shoulder. ¡°You heard the lady. Let¡¯s get the hell out of here.¡±

    I nod slightly and look up at the cave entrance. Positioning myself to get a better angle is easy; forcing my body to move towards the dump truck that¡¯s in the process of becoming taken by the apocalypse is much harder. My awareness is the only thing that keeps me steady enough to get a bead on the opening and toss the coins, then sneak one last look towards the dump truck as it shudders and groans under the weight of salt and the apocalypse.

    The wheel well¡¯s already on its way to turning into some kind of joint. Metal folds in on itself to create nooks and crannies that look like scales, and on the far side of us, I swear I can see something crushing itself into the shape of a head. Not any head I¡¯ve ever seen before, but a head nonetheless.

    Ursula grabs my hand tightly. That¡¯s enough of a sign for me.

 Chapter 78: No Time To Catch Your Breath

    ¡°Wargh!¡±

    Ursula and I stumble over guns and salt as relocation brings us back to basecamp. The floor rushes up to meet me when my foot catches on something that doesn¡¯t move, and I stupidly throw out my hands to break my fall. My awareness kicks in at the last second and forces me to twist and fall on my shoulder; still not a comfortable landing, but at least I¡¯ll be able to use my hands.

    ¡°Ow, ow, ow.¡± I hiss while cradling my shoulder. ¡°What the hell was happening back there? It looked like all the elementals were trying to possess that dump truck at the same time.¡±

    Ursula coughs wetly. ¡°That about sums up my understanding of it. There¡¯s gotta be some heavy magic coming from the krarig now that it¡¯s so close to waking up, and the elementals are going haywire.¡±

    ¡°And we¡¯re not anywhere closer to having those coins in hand than we were a few days ago.¡± I wince as I get up and look around. ¡°No change here, though. I¡¯ll call that a win for now.¡±

    ¡°For n¨Coh, yeah.¡± Ursula chuckles and rubs her forearms. ¡°Architect, tell me if you see anything important on that feed, and when you¡¯re sure, bring ¡®em out and see if it¡¯s safe for us to relocate back in there. I¡¯m transferring full control of the drones over to you now.¡±

    She pulls open her Class Card and taps on the projection a few times.

    ¡°Control received, thank you.¡± March confirms. ¡°I¡¯ll set up a feed in a second. Find a screen somewhere to watch it.¡±

    Ursula taps one of the old computers and summons another USB from her inventory. She leans down and fiddles with the tower until I hear an audible click, then she gestures for me to come stand next to her. The screen flickers from nothing to a dull, shimmering black as the speakers crackle to life with a dull background buzz.

    ¡°So, what¡¯re we looking at here?¡± Ursula smacks the monitor a few times, and the colours suddenly blink in. ¡°Oh, there we go. About what I expected.¡±

    Salt, salt, magic, and more salt. By the looks of it the drone has a whole few inches of leeway to the left and right from all the salt buildup; the kind of buildup you wouldn¡¯t get unless it was running for a long time.

    ¡°Is this the one going up or down?¡± I ask.

    Ursula shrugs. ¡°Architect?¡±

    ¡°This one¡¯s going down. I¡¯m having trouble connecting to the one going up, but it looks like it¡¯s still moving.¡± March smacks a few keys as she hums thoughtfully. ¡°There must be more interference further up. But that doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    We watch the feed as March keeps mumbling and humming to herself. It barely changes at all, but there are subtle differences every now and again; dark patches in the salt, brighter chunks that look like elementals, and even a few small drips of greasy oil like the stuff from the waterfall. But no matter how deep it goes, or for how long we watch, there doesn¡¯t seem to be an end in sight.

    I lean on my elbow and frown. ¡°How deep is this supposed to go?¡±

    ¡°A few miles underwater, then a little further into the seafloor.¡± Ursula says without looking away from the feed. ¡°There should be a building pressure the deeper we go, but I¡¯m not seeing any of the pressure warnings I built into these things. It¡¯s almost like the inside of the krarig is a completely closed ecosystem, and every other environmental factor just doesn¡¯t apply.¡±

    The feed flickers, then shifts to another view that¡¯s tinged with a very angry red. The camera shakes like it¡¯s in an earthquake in a tunnel that¡¯s got much more clearance than the other one, but with so much grease and oil sticking to the sides that it¡¯s hard to get a bead on exactly how big it is.

    ¡°There¡¯s your pressure warnings.¡± Ursula chuckles humourlessly. ¡°Architect, what¡¯re they reading?¡±

    ¡°Uh. Yes?¡± March grunts in frustration and types frantically. ¡°They¡¯re not giving me any numbers. Just a big ¡®danger¡¯ indicator and a ¡®maximum pressure reached¡¯ warning. Didn¡¯t we put these things through extremely rigorous testing?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Yes we did.¡± Ursula says thoughtfully as she scratches her chin. ¡°I don¡¯t even remember what the maximum rating was, but it¡¯s definitely higher than the seafloor around here should be. And¨Cwait. You said this one was the one going up?¡±

    March hums in confirmation. ¡°Sensors say it¡¯s still going upwards. Maybe it¡¯s all the oily gunk that¡¯s causing it?¡±

    Ursula shrugs.

    The drones keep flying for minutes, with the one going down seeing nearly no changes while the one going up just seems to get more and more pressurized. But the weirdest part of it all is that absolutely nothing seems to¡­ well¡­ help. There¡¯s no hints, no explanations; not even a single little scrap of knowledge that might explain any of the weird shit that happened on the lowest floor.

    I pull open my Class Card to check the time, then sigh and send it away. ¡°It¡¯s been half an hour. Should we call it done?¡±

    A grimace works its way across Ursula¡¯s face. She tightly grips the edge of the monitor with one hand¨Chard enough that the plastic starts to creak in protest¨Cand blows out a long breath that carries a lot of frustration. Maybe she was expecting more out of this than I was.

    ¡°Yeah. Call ¡®em off.¡± She removes her hand and shakes it once, revealing a brand new crack in the plastic. ¡°There¡¯s nothing in those pipes for us anymore. Whatever happened there happened before the krarig started waking up, and that might mean none of the info on that letter matters. In which case we¡¯d be flying blind.¡±

    I roll my eyes and push my arms over my head to stretch my back. ¡°Not like we¡¯ve been using the maps up until right now. Can you get the drones out of the pipes to check on the coins I put down?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll bring the one that¡¯s about to implode back, but I¡¯m keeping the one going down in place. Just in case there¡¯s actually something important down there.¡± March audibly flicks a switch and the salt-filled view freezes for a second before reversing direction. ¡°It¡¯ll be half an hour before it can see what happened to the dumptruck. You two should take a break until then. Or check out the elementals outside that¡¯ve been getting bigger for the past few hours.¡±

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Check the¡­ last few¡­¡± Ursula trails off and looks over at the window. Which is definitely more salt-coated than before. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell us about this before? They could¡¯ve damaged the equipment.¡±

    ¡°We were all busy. And you¡¯re strong enough to fight off an elemental or two.¡± A crack sounds through the mic, followed by a fizzy hissing. March takes two loud gulps before setting what I assume is a drink down and continuing. ¡°The preservation looks like they¡¯re hitting a few weather snags, but I can¡¯t tell how much it¡¯s slowing them down. If it makes them resort to using way more magic it could mean they get here way sooner.¡±

    Ursula hisses through her teeth and holds up a hand for me to stay put. She sidles up to the wall and traces her hand along it, and when she reaches the windowsill, pulls it away and rubs her fingers together. Lots of tiny salt crystals sprinkle down to the ground.

    ¡°Not good.¡± She mutters to herself, then turns to me. ¡°We¡¯re clearing the area so I can put up a better barrier. Can you tell what¡¯s out there?¡±

    March answers before I can. ¡°One big magical sign and a few more near the bottom of the ramp.¡±

    ¡°Then we go to the roof.¡± Ursula puts one hand on a holstered gun and nods for me to go stand on the other side of the window. ¡°Not gonna be much space to work with. We¡¯ll need to rely on that awareness of yours so we don¡¯t get turned into extra-salty sashimi.¡±

    I nod in agreement and put my hand on the gun she gave me. ¡°How¡¯re we getting to the roof without exposing this place to the elementals? Because it looks like you¡¯re thinking about going through the window.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan, yeah.¡± Ursula confirms and motions once more for me to get in place. Which I reluctantly do. ¡°Once we break this sucker open, make a platform for us to get to the roof. And when we¡¯re both out, make this place airtight again so the elemental has to follow us up. You need to do any preparations?¡±

    ¡°Nope, I¡¯m¨C¡±

    Salt thorns shear through the metal door before I can finish my sentence. Ursula¡¯s face turns deadly serious as she pushes off the wall and sprints to the door while drawing a gun with her left hand and summoning something that looks like five purple grapes stuck together to her right. She shoves the grapes at the door as the thorns start to ooze molten magic down the inside while even more thorns burst through the thin metal.

    Thick foam expands to cover the entire door in the blink of an eye. A low melodic noise erupts from the other side of the door, one that somehow sounds confused, and the thorns all snap off at once. Even as loud thumps send ringing vibrations through the foam.

    ¡°Won¡¯t hold it for more than thirty seconds.¡± Ursula tosses me something that looks like a pen with a metal tip, then curls her fingers around empty air and smacks the underside of her palm against the wall. ¡°Go!¡±

    I breathe in through my nose to focus, curl my fingers around the ¡®pen¡¯ just like she did, and raise my hand to the window. The thick layer of salt coating the outside looks like it¡¯s grown even thicker in the last ten seconds. That can¡¯t be anything but a bad sign.

    Glass and salt shatter in strangely uniform hexagons as I slam the ¡®pen¡¯ into the window, clattering to the ground all around me where they shatter normally. I blink once and throw a shield out the window, dive through the now-open space, and turn to get a visual on the thing that¡¯s attacking us. One thing¡¯s for sure¨Cit¡¯s an elemental. That inner glow is something I¡¯m getting way too good at identifying. But the rest of it¡­

    A half-formed skull lolls uselessly atop a thick neck that looks like three thin necks wrapped together. Veins stick out and pump molten salt through a facade of flesh all the way down to a very sinuous chest that makes a mockery of muscle structure, which blossoms out into three skeletal arms adorned with thin sheets of fluttering salt that blow in the wind like scraps of torn flesh. Instead of legs the body just stops when it reaches the pelvis, trailing long intestine-like tendrils of crystallized salt that just barely scrape the ground as it turns to ¡®look¡¯ at me.

    It takes a second for me to recognize that it is¨Cindeed¨Call still made of salt. The thing trembles and shakes unnaturally as a hand snaps to open-palm point at me; salt bones growing and cracking as they extend into the exact same massive thorns that just pierced through the door. I narrow my eyes and throw up another shield to block them, flick another one behind me into a ramp that I back onto, and slowly climb my way to the roof as my shield ascends with me. The elemental shudders hard enough that one of its arms snaps, falling uselessly to the ground, and is quickly replaced by another that erupts from a random point on its torso.

    ¡°Infinitely freakier than the vendigator, that¡¯s for sure.¡± I mutter to myself as I hop onto the roof and ready a shield to fill in the window. ¡°Get up here, Mercenary. I can¡¯t seal you inside.¡±

    Ursula laughs along to the sound of thorns puncturing metal. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re gonna have to do exactly that. Oh, and don¡¯t look off the back of this thing if you want to keep your lunch down. Kill the bastard breaking down our door and I¡¯ll deal with the things climbing up.¡±

    Well, consider my curiosity piqued. I summon a weaker but long lived projectile into a ghost quarter and snap it towards the edge of the roof, which zips down and slams into the elemental with a satisfying¨Cyet sickening¨Ccrunch. My awareness flares midnight black¨Ca spot of absolute darkness overlaid right on top of the elemental¡¯s form. Tendrils of darkness flake off of it and extend down towards the main building we just got out of, radiating a strange intensity that¡¯s both murderous and curious at the same time.

    I grit my teeth and shake it off as I back away even more, then glance down to sneak a peek at whatever Ursula warned me about. Thousands of elementals cling to the side of the rig, each a strange tattered mockery like the one at our door, slowly making their way up towards us in a shambling tide of deadly certainty. It¡¯s not enough to make me lose my lunch, but it definitely gets a deep gulp of anticipation and spikes my heart rate something fierce.

    Horrible cracking echoes out as the elemental reaches skyward, extending its arm far beyond what should be possible until its fingers snap suddenly onto the edge of the roof. In one swift motion it yanks itself up with me, stumbling and falling over itself even as its head tries to focus on me. I know it doesn¡¯t have to point that thing at me to see me, so why is it even bothering with the facade? Could it be some macabre attempt at intimidation?

    Whatever it is, I don¡¯t have the opportunity to wonder. I flick a coin off the edge filled with a shield to fit tightly into the broken window, raise my arm with the knife strapped to it, and push a second shield coin into the indent. Magical plates spring into being as the elemental just watches; shuddering and twitching like a crackhead trying to climb an electric fence. Again, something feels wrong. It should¡¯ve attacked the second it got up here, not¡­ given me time to prepare.

    ¡°The hell¡¯s your deal, freak?¡± I shake my head and spread the fingers on my right hand. A mixture of projectiles and shields appear between them. ¡°You see these? I killed a dragonjet with these suckers. If you¡¯ve got a spark of self-preservation you should stand down.¡±

    The elemental¡¯s neck snaps. But¡­ in the right way. It flips and stands bolt upright on that wrong neck, eyes burning with molten salt, and stares straight at me. For the smallest of seconds, there¡¯s a flicker of intelligence in the magic. Something staring through all the salt and violence that isn¡¯t necessarily less violent, but far more¡­ dangerous. Dangerous and distant. Its face cracks where the mouth should be all the way up to the neck, leaving jagged edges that make a foul mockery of teeth in a smile that sends shivers down my spine.

    It opens that mouth. Hisses with undertones of sound spill forth, eventually giving way to words that hauntingly scrape out as easily as kidney stones.

    ¡°Why did you run?¡±

 Chapter 79: Salt Signals

    The horrible, scraping voice of the elemental pricks at my mind. It sends shivers through my entire body in a mixture of all too familiar pleasant and unpleasant sensations, though it¡¯s infinitely less intense than what I felt from the waterfall. I lick my lips to get the salt from them and narrow my eyes without lowering my weapon or coins. The elemental doesn¡¯t flinch.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one from the waterfall.¡±

    It doesn¡¯t move as it speaks. ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡­It also doesn¡¯t elaborate. Maybe it''s not good at speaking? Or¡­ well¡­ it could be a magical creature that doesn¡¯t work on the same pleasantries as we do.

    ¡°What the hell are you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Okay, still unhelpful. But¡­ it''s answering my questions. A twitch wracks through the right side of its body, and two of its arms lance out towards me. The thing¡¯s eyes flash bright and the arms fall away, but the side of its body still looks like its trying to get to me. Still no elaboration, and it looks like whatever¡¯s talking to me is quickly losing out to the elemental that its possessing.

    ¡°Is your body fighting against you?¡±

    ¡°It is resisting me.¡±

    Resisting. Not fighting, but resisting. There¡¯s a distinction there I¡¯m not smart enough to make, but it gets the image across well enough. The thing that¡¯s talking to me is the same thing from the waterfall. And it isn¡¯t a¡­ hive-mind with the rest of the elementals. But they¡¯re still connected somehow, I think.

    It shudders again. Arms grow back, and when the waterfall-elemental fights back, they only fall away from the ¡®elbow¡¯ down. The elemental¡¯s losing ground fast, so I¡¯ve got to make my questions count. First of; those goddamn thorns.

    ¡°What did you do to make those thorns fall from the ceiling? And why did they mess with me so much, but not anyone else?¡±

    ¡°You are attuned.¡± It says without a moment¡¯s hesitation. ¡°The krarig wakes. You could help it not. Why did you run?¡±

    ¡°I could¡­ help it not?¡± I frown and take a step back as the arms reform again. ¡°Do you mean we could kill it before it woke up? Is that even possible?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Why did you run?¡±

    ¡°I ran because you hurt me.¡±

    The elemental is silent. Its eyes flicker once, and then everything below the neck lunges at me. A shield pops up between me and it, but something else holds it back too¨Cthe neck, which strains and cracks as the body inexorably pulls it towards the breaking point.

    ¡°I do not know what ¡®hurt¡¯ is. When you come back, I will try not to ¡®hurt¡¯ you.¡± The elemental says through the cacophonous cracking. ¡°Without help, I will die. I do not want to die.¡±

    One final crack heralds the elemental breaking free from whatever was underneath the waterfall. Leaving me with those six words that bore into my mind and take hold like a parasitic worm. Pearl stares straight ahead with intense determination, and I know she¡¯s focused on the exact same thing I am; the elemental knows that its alive. It knows that it can die. And, somehow, not going back down will both cause the krarig to wake up and the death of quite possibly the first completely intelligent non-human entity on Earth.

    Thorns of salt emerge from where the head slams to the metal roof, lodging it into the building as the molten glimmer of magic slowly bleeds out of its eyes. Before the rest of it can adjust to my shield the speaking elemental is gone. Leaving only the raging husk with a molten heart of salt behind. ¡­And it¡¯s thousands of friends who¡¯re more than desperate to meet Ursula and I to rip us limb from limb.

    My frown deepens as I backpedal to the edge of the roof. I send my coins away and draw my gun, aiming it squarely at the gooey center of the twisted elemental through my shield. From how it¡¯s treating the flat pane like a complete wall¨Ccomplete with scrabbling its arms to either side to try and reach me¨Cthere¡¯s not a shred of intelligence there. Not worth wasting my own Worth on.

    But¡­ what does that mean? Is that one from the waterfall alone in being aware? Are all the others just manifestation of magic, primal and thoughtless, brought on by the krarig waking up? If so, how the hell did exactly one of them suddenly grow a brain? As if to prove my point, the elemental shoves itself even harder into my shield, cracking it about half as much as the corpsedragger did back on the other world. Not bad for a stationary start, but this thing¡¯s not fast. If it isn¡¯t smart or full of raw power, either, then it isn¡¯t a threat.

    I almost lower the gun Ursula gave me. But I¡¯ve still got to deal with this thing before she can put up a barrier¨Cwhich she definitely should¡¯ve done days ago, now that I think of it. Instead I toss it to my hand with a barrier-making knife stabilizing it, flick off the safety, and take aim.

    ¡°Sorry ¡®bout this, but we¡¯re kind of in a hurry.¡±

    My finger gently squeezes the trigger. It clicks slightly, but then the resistance comes. Along with a strange sensation like the gun magically probing my brain for¡­ something. Which is really weird since Ursula gave me this specifically because it doesn¡¯t need any magic from me to fire. I tense my forearm and command the shield inside of my knife to spread down and stabilize my arm, watch it ooze out like thick oil, and squeeze as hard as I can when it coats my wrist.

    An ear-spitting crack explodes from just down my arm. My shield shatters completely and utterly, falling like twinkling pieces of rainbow-tinged darkness as the bullet screams out of the barrel and slams into my stationary shield. Which it simply passes through in a perfectly clean hole as if it didn¡¯t even exist. My awareness tracks it for a few hundred feet, which takes all of a second to happen, and then it¡¯s gone. Flying somewhere over the waves until gravity eventually takes it.

    The elemental doesn¡¯t have a chance to react. One moment its pressing into my shield and the next its crumpling to the ground, molten salt pouring out of a massive hole in its chest cavity where its core used to be. There¡¯s nothing left of it now. The molten salt hardens in heartbeats, gluing the elemental¡¯s corpse to our roof as it erupts in thorns that pierce through the roof. Just like the head.

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    I stare in disbelief for a few long seconds. I raise both of my arms and look from the gun to my coins. That was one bullet. Fired by someone who doesn¡¯t have any skills¨Cboth system-gained or normal¨Cto make it any more powerful.

    ¡°She can just give this to anyone.¡± I mutter in disbelief as I carefully put the safety back on and slip the gun into its holster. ¡°Thank god she¡¯s a mercenary and not an arms dealer.¡±

    After taking a few more moments to let my ears stop ringing, I tap my earpiece three times. ¡°Sorry for the loud noise, Architect. Didn¡¯t know it¡¯d be that bad.¡±

    ¡°No worries. I turned you way down the second you drew the gun.¡± March crunches down one something, then swallows directly into the mic. Ick. ¡°Mercenary¡¯s putting up the barrier right now. You should go back down to see the pump room feed I just put up on a monitor. It¡¯s pretty freaking cool.¡±

    ¡°Cool? How¡¯s a dump truck being taken over by the apocalypse ¡®cool¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ how isn¡¯t it cool?¡±

    I shake my head and trod over to the edge of the roof. ¡°It becomes a hell of a lot less cool when you have to see it in person. How about the other symbols? Any info on any of them?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but not good info. I can¡¯t find any meaning behind any of them.¡±

    Weird. I bend my knees and drop to the small platform surrounding the building, take down the shield blocking the window, and vault into it. Ursula looks over at me and raises an eyebrow. When I give her a thumbs¨Cup she nods, then goes right back to fiddling with something that looks like a crystal ball smudged with different shades of blue paint. Must be the barrier thing.

    I lean against a wall and cross my arms. ¡°If there¡¯s no meaning behind any of them, then are they just markings for us to look for down there? And the shit we find hidden behind them is how we¡¯re supposed to open the vault¨Chell, how we¡¯re supposed to find it in the first place?¡±

    Ursula looks up once again. I motion at my earpiece, and she mouths an ¡®ah¡¯ as she goes right back to work. March crunches and slurps some more at whatever meal or snack she¡¯s consuming in the noisiest humanly possible way, then loudly licks her fingers with a few wet smacks. A new shudder works its way down my spine, but this one¡¯s got no magic in it at all.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep looking just in case, but yeah, it looks like that¡¯s the case.¡± She confirms when she finally decides to speak. ¡°You should keep an eye out. Oh, and look at the screen.¡±

    I turn my focus to the screen that previously showed the insides of the pipes. Half of it is still the seemingly endless pipe, but the other half now shows the pump room. Complete with a massive dump truck falling to the apocalypse. Still falling to the apocalypse, to be precise¨Cit¡¯s taking a lot longer than I thought it would. Can¡¯t even make out what kind of animal it¡¯s going to mimic when it¡¯s done. But from its sheer size, and from how many elementals went into it to override the apocalypse¡­ I¡¯d bet something like a whale. Or a mythical creature of some kind.

    ¡°Has an industrial dump truck like this been taken before?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll check.¡±

    While March eagerly clacks and slurps away, I watch the elementals and the apocalypse struggle for purchase. Not sure why they wouldn¡¯t just wait until the thing got fully taken before they moved in, but maybe it¡¯s easier this way. Hell, maybe this is the only way it¡¯s possible with something this huge.

    ¡°Aaand¡­ done!¡± Ursula exclaims with a slap of her hands on her thighs. ¡°Barrier¡¯s up and running.¡±

    She pushes herself to her feet, revealing that the strange glass thing is connected to what looks like a car battery. A magical car battery that flickers and sparks with deep blue magic like wisps of smoke, sure, but still a car battery. She spares one glance at the monitor with a little nod to herself, then completely ignores it to stare at me.

    ¡°Fired the gun for the first time, huh?¡± She grins and clenches her right hand open and shut a few times. ¡°How¡¯re the old fingers doing? Gotta take a swig of healing potion to make ¡®em feel right again?¡±

    ¡°No, in fact, I did not. But only because I had this.¡± I gesture at the knife strapped to my arm. ¡°The shield absorbed most of the recoil and stopped the gun from kicking out of my hand. Why the hell did you give me a gun this powerful?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°Figured if you were going to use it instead of your coins, you¡¯d want something efficient. Nothing¡¯s more efficient than putting a massive hole in your problems. Unless your problems can¡¯t be solved by putting holes in them; in that case you¡¯d probably just be making ¡®em a lot worse.¡±

    I roll my eyes and pat the holster. ¡°No shit. In other news; the thing under the waterfall can talk. It can also possess other elementals, and it thinks that when the krarig wakes up, it¡¯s going to die. Oh, and it doesn¡¯t want to die.¡±

    ¡°No shit?¡± Ursula asks, then frowns and crosses her arms when she sees that I¡¯m serious. ¡°Well, that makes things a little more complicated. Yeah, the elemental¡¯s right¨Cif the krarig wakes up, all these elementals go bye-bye in the process. Pretty sure I already told you that, but if I didn¡¯t, just take it as fact that when the apocalypse stops funneling magic in here to birth the krarig there won¡¯t be any left to sustain the elementals.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ what do we do about it, if anything at all?¡±

    Ursula hisses through her teeth, but doesn¡¯t say anything. She furrows her brow in thought as she drums her fingers against her forearm in a beat that almost sounds like a song I¡¯ve definitely heard somewhere before. I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s pitting the positives of trusting the thing under the waterfall against the negatives of going back there¨Ceven if it is true¨Csince we¡¯ve got basically no leads on the coins. Add in the preservation that¡¯ll be here any time between now and whenever and you¡¯ve got a damn persuasive argument to cut and run.

    It¡¯s not what I want to do, but I understand the line of thought.

    ¡°I found two cases of dump trucks being taken recently, but they¡¯re both a lot smaller than this one. And¡­ one from fifteen years ago.¡± March pipes up, giving us something else to focus on. ¡°It¡¯s a¡­ pretty bad story. Lots of people died. And they didn¡¯t even manage to kill it, it just covered itself in dirt and went to sleep. Apparently it¡¯s still buried somewhere out in Russia.¡±

    ¡°Cool. Terrible for the people, but cool.¡± Ursula clicks her tongue and looks over her shoulder at the screen. ¡°How¡¯s the size compare to the one we¡¯ve got?¡±

    ¡°Let me see¡­ it¡¯s about twenty percent bigger than the one down there. But that one¡¯s still twice the size of the more recent two. Did I say what it turned into?¡± March pauses. ¡°I don¡¯t remember, so I¡¯ll say it anyway; it¡¯s a triceratops but without the horns. A dumpceratops.¡±

    I snort out a laugh. ¡°We are not calling it that.¡±

    ¡°Too late, it¡¯s funny and I¡¯ve memorized it.¡± Ursula grins and raps her knuckles against the screen. ¡°We¡¯ll be dealing with a dumpceratops in a few hours from the looks of it, so we¡¯ve gotta get moving quick. Doesn¡¯t matter if we trust the talking elemental or not¨Cwe¡¯ve got a job to do.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ a lot more confident than I was expecting.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the sudden burst of confidence?¡±

    ¡°Confidence? Sister, this ain¡¯t confidence. We¡¯re completely done with this place real soon, whether that¡¯s from the preservation or the krarig finally coming alive. If we don¡¯t go back down there right now, we might as well pack up and leave. I¡¯ll leave the choice to you.¡±

    ¡°...I might¡¯ve also left out one thing the elemental said.¡±

    Ursula gestures for me to go on when I don¡¯t elaborate riht away.

    ¡°Alright. So¡­ now don¡¯t forget that this is a chunk of salt speaking¨C¡± I wince as Pearl¡¯s deep frown lights up the inside of my mind. ¡°What I meant to say was a very magical and very impressive chunk of salt told me this, so take it with a grain of salt.¡±

    ¡°Hee.¡± March giggles slightly.

    I roll my eyes. ¡°Pun not intended.¡±

    ¡°Cut to the chase here, sister. I¡¯m on the edge of my seat.¡± Ursula says in the most forced, monotone, uninterested voice she can muster.

    ¡°Fine. The elemental thinks we can kill the krarig before it wakes up.¡±

    The news hits Ursula like a sack of bricks. She deeply inhales through her nose, then exhales for a long few seconds and stares wistfully at the door filled with patched-up holes.

    ¡°That just made the decision for you. We¡¯re going back down.¡±

 Chapter 80: Dread Return

    Two coins dance through my fingers as I watch Ursula fiddle about with military-looking armor that¡¯s been completely defaced in the colours she likes. She pulls straps and laces a bunch of things up until she¡¯s bundled up in something she looks blatantly uncomfortable in while also looking¡­ really used to it. Natural, almost.

    ¡°What, no helmet?¡±

    As if on cue, she summons a military helmet with a bunch of wave motifs. Complete with a deep blue visor and a rebreather that she connects to something on her back by a thick tube. It pulses with magic in tune to an unheard heartbeat the moment she snaps it into place.

    ¡°I take back my previous comment.¡±

    Ursula chuckles and shifts to hold the helmet under her arm. ¡°Not much point protecting the rest of your body if your enemy can splatter your greymatter all over the pavement. Or crystallized salt, in this specific case. Need me to whip up one of these bad boys for you?¡±

    I tap my knuckles on my knife. ¡°This plus my coins plus my awareness will give me all the protection I need.¡±

    ¡°Probably a good call. Getting used to a heavy suit like this isn¡¯t something you do overnight, and definitely not in a dangerous situation.¡± Ursula catches the coin I flick to her, holds it for a second, then flicks it right back. ¡°Dumpceratops still isn¡¯t moving, but that doesn¡¯t mean we shouldn¡¯t be insanely careful. If the pain from the thorns gets so bad you can¡¯t function again you teleport right back up and let me do this alone, you hear me?¡±

    ¡°Loud and clear.¡± I confirm and let the two relocation coins fall onto the floor. ¡°All good to go?¡±

    She slides her helmet over her head, taps it a few times on the side until a small light shines through the visor and the tube puts off a magical mist, then nods. That¡¯s all the confirmation I need, and so I reach for my coins. But¡­ something¡¯s a little wrong. I latch onto them without a problem, just like usual, but they¡¯re¡­ weird. Staticky.

    No. They¡¯re dissolving. I¡­ didn¡¯t even know that was possible.

    ¡°The coins are breaking up. Probably because of all the salt.¡±

    ¡°Are they still usable?¡± Ursula asks loud and clear, as if she wasn¡¯t even speaking through a mask.

    ¡°Yeah, but not for much longer.¡± I furrow my brow as I concentrate even harder on the imperiled coins. ¡°Guess that means we can¡¯t take long breaks from being down there. Or that we¡¯ve gotta take it in shifts again.¡±

    Ursula puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes a little. ¡°With the preservation on our heels we don¡¯t have the luxury of time anyway. Once we¡¯ve got trusting the waterfall elemental sorted, if it isn¡¯t trying to kill us, we¡¯ll have to work in shifts. One of us distracting the preservation and the other working towards our goals; one brand new and one almost a week old.¡±

    March clears her throat before I can say anything. ¡°You mean getting the coins and killing the krarig, right? Which would kill the elementals anyway? Why would the waterfall elemental want that?¡±

    That¡­ is a very good point. It also raises the question of if the waterfall elemental knows that killing the krarig will kill it too.

    ¡°Just another tick in the ¡®don¡¯t trust column¡¯.¡± Ursula sighs. ¡°No point worrying when we can just ask it. Take us down, Gambler.¡±

    The spell doesn¡¯t want to work. I put all my focus on the coins and will the spells inside to work, but it¡¯s putting way more strain on my brain than before. Like when I controlled all those projectiles against the teleporter, but focused on two things instead of many. My awareness leaks out to help me bit by bit, until even it strains under the effort.

    Suddenly, and without warning, it works. I gasp, which turns into a wince, and look around to make sure nothing else went wrong. We¡¯re back in the tunnels, so that¡¯s good. The¡­ dumpceratops¡­ isn¡¯t moving yet. Also good. Innumerable glowing spots¨Ceach an elemental¨Cshine at us through the salt. That¡¯s not good.

    ¡°Note to self; the harder the teleport, the more strain it puts on my brain.¡± I mutter and raise a hand to cradle a thumping ache on my head. Two more coins fill with relocation, and I slot them into my holster to keep them safe. ¡°Gotta keep that in mind. Could mean really long distances are out too.¡±

    ¡°Or it could mean you¡¯re teleporting into a miasma of magic salt.¡± Ursula looks down and clicks her tongue. ¡°Too many elementals here. Let¡¯s get moving.¡±

    We start walking down the tunnel. It takes a few minutes for the first thorn to embed itself in my mind, but this time, it¡¯s muted. Definitely not gone, as the shudder that runs down my spine proves, but it¡¯s¡­ manageable. Probably won¡¯t last the closer we get to the salt landscape, but hey, I¡¯ll take a few minutes of not-horrible.

    As we get closer and closer to the room the thorns get worse. Headaches and shakiness overtake most of me, but as the exit comes into view, I¡¯m still standing. Walking. Pearl¡¯s eyes constantly shift to the walls, locking onto all the elementals that¡¯re watching us, but from her bored posture, she¡¯s not worried. So I shouldn¡¯t be worried.

    Yeah. Just¡­ trust her.

    Ursula holds up a hand for me to stop when she gets to the ledge. She shifts it into an upwards motion, her other hand going to one of her guns, and once she sees that I saw, she jumps. Straight up. Completely clearing the ledge, kicks the wall behind her, and rolls away. For someone with the Body stat of a Worth class that¡¯s damn impressive.

    I cross my arms and unclench my jaw as I wait for whatever signal she¡¯s going to give. Pearl taps a chunk of her darkness to get my attention. I raise an eyebrow to show she¡¯s got it. She starts miming the same thing she did before¨Cnot together, but separate. I summon my Class Card and swipe over to type something back to her.

    ¡°I know, the elementals and the apocalypse aren¡¯t working together. That¡¯s what you meant, right?¡±

    She purses her lips, then waggles her hand in a ¡®sort of¡¯ motion.

    ¡°Part of what you meant, but not the whole thing?¡±

    That gets a vigorous nod. She repeats the motion a few times, then crouches down and puts one hand on the floor. It looks like she wraps it around something and picks it up, gently motions at the thing, and deliberately moves to put it on whatever she¡¯s usually leaning against. Then she spreads her hands towards it and smiles wide. As if that somehow completes her point.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Picking something up and putting it somewhere else somehow makes her point. I frown and send my Class Card away as I listen to Ursula¡¯s boots crunching away up there, trying to make sense of why she¡¯s taking so long just as much as Pearl¡¯s point. The dump truck obviously doesn¡¯t belong here. And there¡¯s no way anyone could¡¯ve brought it here. So¡­ did the apocalypse bring it here somehow? Is that what she¡¯s trying to tell me¨Cthat the apocalypse didn¡¯t just mess with the krarig, but somewhere else as well?

    ¡­Oh, shit. The salt. The extra space. I thought it was all from the ocean, but when the dump truck factors in¡­ what if it isn¡¯t? What if the apocalypse somehow pulled an entire salt mine into the krarig? But why? What does it get from somehow combining two places that aren¡¯t even slightly similar to each other? Hell, how¡¯s that even possible?

    Nope, no. Don¡¯t jump to conclusions. There¡¯s a good chance I¡¯m misrepresenting all this shit. Maybe it¡¯s not an entire mine, just a¡­ storage facility from somewhere that got abandoned when they didn¡¯t want to retrofit the dump truck. And since it had a shit-ton of salt in it, the apocalypse magically reproduced it until there¡¯s enough to fill the krarig.

    ¡°All good-ish up here.¡± Ursula calls down as she leans over the ledge. ¡°Still a shit ton of apocalypse-touched stuff and magical salt, but that¡¯s to be expected. And the thing¡¯s still under the waterfall just waiting there for us.¡±

    She leans to the side as a rope falls over the edge. I slide my foot into a loop at the bottom and hold on tight with both hands, then give it a good tug. She starts pulling me up with little effort.

    ¡°So how do you want to do this?¡± She asks as I clamber onto the ledge. ¡°We can beeline for the waterfall, but that¡¯s relying on the elemental not lying to us. Or we could go for another exit and explore some more before we lock ourselves into this path. Third option¨Cwe got to that fountain thing and get some samples while watching and waiting for something to happen.¡±

    A thorn of agony cuts away the third option before I even start considering them. I¡¯m not staying down here for a minute longer than I have to.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got my coins. Dealing with the elemental lying to us is one thought away.¡± I decide for us and crack my neck. ¡°How did we get up here in the first place again?¡±

    Ursula stares way down at the ground, then breaks out laughing. I shoot her a look, but before I can say anything, she walks over the ledge. And¡­ keeps walking over the open air. Right. Completely forgot about the buff that let us get down here in the first place. Well, can¡¯t do anything but laugh right along and walk into the open air with her.

    ¡°Your jump is suddenly a lot less impressive than five minutes ago.¡±

    She snorts and pats the coiled up rope on her leg. ¡°Makes me feel stupid for bringing this along, that¡¯s for sure. What the hell happened there for the collective brain fade?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the salt.¡± March says matter-of-factly. ¡°There¡¯s something in it that makes you want to forget about the buff¡¯s effects. Not sure why.¡±

    ¡°Probably some weird survival mechanism. Or just magical bullshit.¡± Ursula shrugs and starts to speed up. ¡°Let¡¯s drop in on this thing from above. That way we¡¯ll have the height advantage if it decides to attack us.¡±

    I¡¯ve got a feeling it¡¯s not going to attack us, but I¡¯m not going to say no to a little deserved caution. We jog over the salt landscape until we walk headfirst into the first whiffs of an extremely unpleasant scent; like old grease mixed with burning oil. Nowhere close to as bad as the rotting ghost quarters and painted danes, but not pleasant in the slightest. And as we get closer and closer to the waterfall, it becomes obvious that it¡¯s where the stench is coming from.

    ¡°Eurgh, smells like a skunk crawled up into someone¡¯s engine, got set on fire, then died. Not necessarily in that order.¡± Ursula gags and crosses her arms. ¡°Can¡¯t imagine what it¡¯d smell like in that huge chunk of metal.¡±

    ¡°Probably this, but worse. And¡­ less salty.¡± I wrinkle my nose and focus on said ¡®huge chunk of metal¡¯. It¡¯s not much more obvious what it is up close, but it¡¯s just as freaky. ¡°Looks like we might be able to crawl in there through the waterfall.¡±

    Ursula lets out the most disgusted noise I¡¯ve ever heard.

    ¡°I mean, we¡¯re not going to, but it looks possible.¡± I quickly clarify. ¡°Really hope our vault isn¡¯t in there.¡±

    ¡°Nope, nope, I didn¡¯t hear that.¡± Ursula shakes her head and speeds up. ¡°If I didn¡¯t hear it, I don¡¯t have to entertain that possibility. Hey¡­ is the elemental looking up at us, or is that just my imagination?¡±

    I jog up and pat her on the shoulder. ¡°Hey, I told you it was sentient. Intelligent. Whatever, you get what I mean. Of course it¡¯d be looking for the people it asked to help kill the krarig.¡±

    ¡°Along with all its not¨Cintelligent friends in the wall.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, those too.¡±

    The taste and smell of salt completely overtakes everything else. The horrid smell disappears in the blink of an eye, and in another blink, the elemental stands before us. Well¡­ hovers, just like we are. Its upper body looks like a nearly featureless human torso, complete with two burning molten salt spheres inside of its head for eyes. I was fully expecting its lower body to look like a typical mermaid¡¯s for some reason, but it trails for a good dozen feet behind the elemental. Like a sea serpent.

    ¡°You are here.¡± It states in its emotionless, perfectly monotone voice. Then it looks directly at me. ¡°Are you hurting?¡±

    I want to imagine concern there, but there¡¯s none. Like a computer program asking if it has satisfied its customer¡¯s needs. Hey, at least it can pretend to care.

    ¡°Yeah, but whatever you did made it hurt a little less. I can stand it now.¡±

    The elemental doesn¡¯t move at all. ¡°That is not ideal.¡±

    Ursula snorts in amusement. ¡°No, it ain¡¯t, but it¡¯s the best we¡¯re going to get. You promised her a way to kill this thing. We¡¯re both listening now.¡±

    ¡°The fluid leaks from one of the krarig¡¯s hearts. Destroy all of them and it cannot wake.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not how it works. It might delay it for a few weeks, but the apocalypse will make more.¡± Ursula says before I can get a word in. ¡°They tried this shit with something in Germany a few years back and it didn¡¯t work. Still had to kill the monster after the apocalypse patched it back up.¡±

    ¡°This is different.¡±

    The elemental turns, and suddenly, it¡¯s in the waterfall pool again. Ursula and I share a look before reluctantly following it down. I carefully stop hovering just above the slurry, noting all the salt crystals that shimmer on its surface. The soles of Ursula¡¯s boots dip into the stuff, and she hisses in frustration as she pushes herself up a little.

    ¡°How is this different?¡± I raise my voice over the sloppy roar of the waterfall. ¡°Actually, how would you know it was different anyway? You shouldn¡¯t have any contact with the outside world.¡±

    ¡°It is different because I am here.¡± The elemental says as it simply walks through the waterfall, oily grease cascading over it with seemingly no effect. The roar doesn¡¯t dull its words in the slightest. ¡°I will claim a heart. No matter how it tries to wake, it cannot while its hearts beat for me.¡±

    ¡°Like you claimed the other apocalypse-touched things?¡± Ursula asks in a slightly accusatory tone. But it¡¯s not quite an accusation¨Cnot that the elemental seems to notice at all. ¡°Were you commanding all of them? Hell, are you commanding all of them right now? Do you have complete control over all the salt in this place?¡±

    Ursula and I both stop right before the curtain of filth. The elemental¡¯s tail continues to disappear beyond it, counting down the time we have until we¡¯ve got to go under. I grimace and push two umbrella-shaped shields into coins, which burst into reality a second later. It¡¯s not much protection, and sure, I could¡¯ve done more, but the thorns are making it hard to focus. So this is what we¡¯ve got to work with.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Ursula bumps my forearm with her knuckles. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to get the suit dirty.¡±

    ¡°And I didn¡¯t want to smell us for the rest of time.¡± I grimace in discomfort as another thorn falls. ¡°Let¡¯s just follow this thing and see why it hasn¡¯t taken over the heart yet.¡±

 Chapter 81: Fortress Hearts

    Slurries of oil, grease, and more than a little molten salt thunder against my shields as we walk through the waterfall. The impact is more than enough to start cracking the magic inside, yet somehow, the liquids simply flow off like a pleasant stream. I look up at the spray, trying to figure out just how all this stuff got here¨Cor, more accurately, why it¡¯s here¨Cbut I can¡¯t come up with anything.

    I mean, I guess it makes sense for an oil rig to have oil. But it should¡¯ve been in the pump room, not flowing out of a massive chunk of metal. Even if the elemental seems to think it¡¯s a heart.

    ¡°Lord almighty, this is one big waterfall.¡± Ursula whistles after close to a minute of walking directly under flow. ¡°I swear it didn¡¯t look this thick when we were overhead. Did it look this thick to you?¡±

    ¡°No, it did not. But the rig also didn¡¯t look like it¡¯d have a few miles of wilderness inside of it, so I guess I¡¯m not that surprised.¡± I fill two more coins with shields, then summon them a little bit under the ones that are already covering us. ¡°The first ones are going to break any moment now. Not sure if anything weird¡¯s going to happen when they do so be ready for whatever.¡±

    Ursula looks up and pokes at the fresh shield. ¡°You¡¯ve got some insane precision with these things. Most people with a spell like this struggle to put it between them and the thing trying to kill them, nevermind all the insane shit you¡¯ve been doing. Guess you¡¯re a natural, huh?¡±

    I roll my eyes at her. Through the slurry. Which I can somehow see through perfectly. But not¡­ the same kind of perfect. Ursula¡¯s all black outlines, like she coated herself in that paint that¡¯s completely black, and so are my shields. My awareness crawls over her form completely and utterly, which is¡­ really weird. It hasn¡¯t done this before. Maybe it¡¯s the salt doing it?

    The waterfall parts not ten seconds later before my first shields have a chance to crack. I click my tongue at the waste of Worth, though I don¡¯t regret my choice at all. The ambient stench of the greasy waterfall is bad enough. Salt and light barely brighten a dim cavern about the size of an underground train platform, revealing a nearly completely empty space. Save for a chunk of salt with a massive piece taken out of it and a few elemental orbs lazily floating through the air.

    ¡°Nice place you¡¯ve got here.¡± Ursula says sarcastically. ¡°If you already have this, then why did we see you falling from the metal chunk?¡±

    ¡°Because I was up there.¡± The elemental says as its lower body coils around itself until the elemental can lean back on a throne made of¡­ itself, I guess. ¡°We are underneath it right now. I will open up a tunnel in the salt above us and we will go inside.¡±

    Ursula holds up her hands. ¡°Whoa there. We¡¯re not going anywhere until you give us a better explanation.¡±

    ¡°Very well. State your questions.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ alright¡­¡± Ursula glances over at me for permission. I motion for her to go ahead. ¡°First things first; what should we call you? And how come none of these other elementals are like you?¡±

    ¡°That is two questions.¡± The elemental states. ¡°To your first; I do not have a name. To your second; I do not have an explanation.¡±

    No clarification again, of course. Ursula crosses her arms and hums to herself, then turns to me. Waiting for me to ask a question if I had to bet. The thorns sending shudders through me make it hard to put together any really competent questions, but one manages to bubble through the sensations to land on the tip of my tongue.

    ¡°Where were you before this?¡±

    The elemental turns and looks at me. ¡°Nowhere.¡±

    ¡°No, I mean, where was all this salt before it came here? That dump truck was from somewhere else, that¡¯s for damn sure, so did the salt come with it? Or what about the magic?¡± I continue. ¡°Not just you, but the salt in general.¡±

    ¡°I have no memory before this krarig. As for the magic, I am not aware of where it began.¡±

    Helpful, as I¡¯m beginning to expect everything the elemental is going to say will be. I motion for Ursula to ask another question, but she¡¯s deep in thought. At least I think that¡¯s what tapping her helmet while she taps her foot in time means. Which means I¡¯m in the driver¡¯s seat for now.

    ¡°How much power do you have over this place?¡± I pause, then shake my head before the elemental can respond. ¡°Actually, let me be specific; when we were in the room with the sunflowers, were you the one that stopped them from firing and brought the elementals in?¡±

    Its eyes dim slightly, then brighten once more. It¡­ almost looked like it was trying to blink. Or at least mimicking what blinking looks like.

    ¡°I was responsible for a part of it.¡± The elemental admits without a hint of any emotion. ¡°When I attempted to make contact, I brought you to the attention of the others. Though it was their intervention that stopped the flora from performing their natural functions.¡±

    ¡°Natural functions. Right.¡± Ursula scoffs and rubs her arm. ¡°So you¡¯re really good at communicating, but don¡¯t really have any other powers. That about right?¡±

    ¡°That is approximately seventy-five percent correct.¡±

    Ursula waits for the clarification on the remaining twenty five percent. The elemental stares at her while she stares at the elemental, which goes on for¡­ a little too long. Eventually I elbow her and clear my throat, to which she sighs in annoyance and slightly tilts her head back.

    ¡°What¡¯s that last twenty-five percent, salty?¡±

    The elemental finally flinches. It¡¯s just a little twitch of its hands, but it doesn¡¯t go unnoticed. Either by Ursula or by me, and especially by Pearl. Who looks like she¡¯s holding in her laughter by just a few straws of willpower.

    ¡°I do not like being called ¡®salty¡¯.¡± The elemental states just as emotionlessly as ever. ¡°Refrain from addressing me as such. As for your question; the other twenty-five percent of my power is allocated to the creation and maintenance of this magical salt.¡±

    ¡°Explain, please.¡± Ursula says immediately after the elemental stops talking.

    ¡°Certainly. My abilities allow me to create constructs from the salt, including bodies such as the one I inhabit and the flowers you have interacted with.¡±

    That seems¡­ far-fetched. There¡¯s no way the elemental did everything we¡¯ve seen so far. There¡¯s literal miles of the stuff, and a bunch of damn complex additions worked into it. Then again¡­ not all the salt we¡¯ve seen has been plant-based. The tunnel to the pump room was pretty much just carved out of crystals, and a lot of the stuff near the clover and sunflowers was just crystal too.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Wait, what am I doing? I can just ask the thing.

    ¡°How much of the salt plant and non-plant salt stuff did you make?¡±

    ¡°All of the plant-like crystals are my doing. None of the non-plant crystals are my doing.¡±

    That¡¯s still a shitton of work. ¡°So, uh, why did you do it?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± The elemental trails off until it goes completely silent. ¡°I do not have an answer for that. I suppose I simply wanted to.¡±

    ¡°As good a reason as any.¡± Ursula says. ¡°At least it proves you¡¯re thinking about things and not just regurgitating facts. Not that it helps me trust you any, but since it doesn¡¯t look like we¡¯re getting that info out of you, I¡¯ve got one last question.¡±

    Ursula jabs a thump up at the ceiling. ¡°You said we¡¯re going up. How?¡±

    The elemental looks up. Heat radiates through the general cold of the place as a spot of light grows on the ceiling. It expands in a near perfect circle until it¡¯s the size of a manhole cover, then suddenly flashes and grows twofold in an instant. The molten circle sloughs away to reveal a perfect tunnel as a thin layer of salt splatters to the ground between us and the elemental.

    ¡°You hid it?¡± Ursula asks as she looks up. ¡°What¡¯re you hiding it from?¡±

    ¡°The others.¡± The elemental explains succinctly. ¡°As for how we will ascend; you already have the tools to do so. Follow me.¡±

    It slithers over the still molten salt, absorbing all of it into their tail, and ascends in a blur of motion and magic. I have to blink a few times and glance over my shoulder to confirm that¡¯s actually what happened, and sure enough, it¡¯s the truth. Ursula and I share a glance, she shrugs, and then steps directly under the hole the elemental made.

    ¡°Looks like salty¡¯s waiting for us.¡± Ursula says with a smirk in her voice. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to keep her waiting, now would we?¡±

    Something like a¡­ grumble works its way into my mind. I knit my eyebrows together at the strange sensation as Pearl¡¯s laugh dam finally breaks and makes way for a series of rapid-fire giggles. The roar of the waterfall dulls them out, but if March was paying a little closer attention, there¡¯s no way she didn¡¯t hear them. But nobody says anything, so we¡¯re still good.

    ¡°Wait, why¡¯d you call it ¡®she¡¯?¡±

    Ursula shrugs and jumps without answering me. I purse my lips and step forward a little, staring all the way up to the darkness inside of the metal chunk illuminated only by the elemental¡¯s molten glow. Whatever¡¯s up there is one-hundred percent needed to stop the krarig from waking up. But that¡¯d involve giving the elemental complete access to the entire krarig.

    I reach up and tap my communicator. ¡°Architect, can you monitor what the elemental is doing from here?¡±

    ¡°Already doing it.¡± March responds immediately. ¡°If it looks like it¡¯s going to take over the krarig for itself, then I¡¯ll tell you. But I don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to. There¡¯s something weird about it.¡±

    ¡°Weird how?¡±

    March crunches on something as she says a few words that get completely overshadowed by the noise.

    ¡°Sorry, didn¡¯t catch that.¡±

    ¡°No problem. I said the elemental is weird because it¡¯s desperate. I think it knows that we want to destroy the krarig, and it can probably assume that we¡¯d want to destroy it anyway even if it takes control of it.¡±

    Okay, yeah, that¡¯s a little weird. I kick off the ground and fly into darkness as I think on March¡¯s words; if she¡¯s right, and the elemental knows it¡¯s going to die either way, then why¡¯s it trying so hard? Ursula and the elemental come into focus long before I can come to any kind of an answer, and the elemental waits exactly two seconds for me to orient myself before it takes off horizontally. Far enough that its eyes are barely pinpricks in the darkness.

    Which means we¡¯ve just stepped into another place that¡¯s bigger on the inside. And completely dark. Wonderful. I push off the moment Ursula does and follow the elemental into the darkness.

    And follow it.

    And follow it. For minutes that stretch on in near complete darkness. My jaw clenches in anticipation of wherever the elemental is bringing us, the strain slowly working its way up the side of my head until I can feel the throbbing behind my eyes. Something feels wrong. More wrong than usual. But¡­ I can¡¯t tell what it is.

    I almost plow into the elemental, skidding to a stop that takes me a dozen feet beyond it in the darkness. Ursula¡¯s not quite as quick, and her panicked vocalizations make sure we know she¡¯s not happy about the sudden stop.

    ¡°We have arrived.¡± The elemental says through Ursula¡¯s grumbling walk back to us. ¡°When we descend again, we will be in the middle of the heart. I have cleared it out to the best of my abilities, though I can sense others without mechanical forms patrolling the space. Be prepared.¡±

    ¡°Wait, we¡¯re fighting?¡± I look down beyond my feet and see absolutely nothing. ¡°How many? Are they like the one from the rooftop or the pincushion-like one that we fought with when we first got here?¡±

    ¡°There are currently six of them. Three of them are of the greater risk ones I spoke to you through earlier, and three of them are less dangerous.¡±

    That¡¯s manageable. I put my hand on my gun and nod to Ursula, who draws a gun with one hand and pulls a knife free from a leg holster with the other. She flips the knife around and inspects the blade with a click of her tongue, then slips it back in and draws a second gun instead.

    She aims one of them at the elemental. It doesn¡¯t even flinch.

    ¡°Just to make sure you know, we¡¯ve got a way out of here. But you already knew that.¡± She flicks the safety off with her thumb. ¡°If this turns out to be a trap, I¡¯ve got a way to make sure neither you or the krarig get out of this. Don¡¯t wanna use it due to a bunch of international treaties and a few agreements we made with the preservation, but if push comes to shove, I¡¯ll make a gigantic hole in the ocean to make sure this place doesn¡¯t swim away with you at the helm.¡±

    The elemental¡¯s light flares ever so slightly. ¡°Your threat is documented and acknowledged. As are the treaties and agreements you previously mentioned. I will do nothing to require such explosive retribution.¡±

    Ursula doesn¡¯t seem convinced. And I don¡¯t feel the need to interfere. Guess that means I¡¯m not convinced either. March doesn¡¯t chime in. Pearl gestures vigorously for me to get Ursula to stop aiming the gun at the elemental¡¯s featureless face. Probably should listen to her.

    I pat Ursula on the shoulder and gently get her to lower the gun. ¡°You¡¯ve made good on the threat. It''s more than scared enough, so let¡¯s just see what it''s talking about.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re sure a little dim light means it¡¯s scared, then fine.¡± Ursula lowers her gun the rest of the way and looks down. ¡°Open the way, salty miss. We¡¯ll deal with your pest problem.¡±

    Molten light opens up far below us in a circle about the size of a dime. The elemental flares bright for a second as the light below dims, and I swear I can hear it say something in the moment of brightness. There¡¯s no trace of anything on its face when I look up at it, same as usual, but its eyes are a little brighter. Is that because Ursula called it ¡®salty miss¡¯?

    I shake my head and focus on my coins. A disliked nickname is the least of my worries right now. They world blurs by in darkness as I fall, the molten circle of light growing by the moment until it¡¯s wide enough to let a helicopter fly through it. Then, without warning, I¡¯m in. Light and the absurdly intense scent of salt overwhelm me for a split second. Cracking shrieks and flares of awareness take their place the next.

    A shield erupts around me before an elemental can give me more holes than a colander. I spin on my heel and flick a projectile directly at it that consumes it utterly in a spray of tiny salt shards and an overwhelming flare of magic. Something tickles the back of my mind¨Clike a cheer mixed with a cry of encouragement, and then it¡¯s all awareness and elementals once again. Salt mercilessly batters my shield and I¡¯m forced to bring up another as I send a second projectile into another spiny elemental.

    Molten salt destroys the coin before the projectile can erupt. A human-ish elemental swivels from the attack it just launched to posture at me while the three remaining pincushions all charge at me with their thorns extended. I force another shield into my knife and lick the salt from my lips as Ursula touches down not two feet from me with both her guns already aimed at the human-ish ones. Bullets fly free. Salt erupts from the floor in huge swaths to protect the elementals. Even still the bullets crack and splinter the salt straight through, but the impact is dulled just enough that the elementals stagger backwards with bullets lodged in their chests instead of dying out right.

    One easily down. The other five, apparently not so much.

 Chapter 82: Beats Per Moment

    Ursula motions with one gun towards a human-ish elemental off to my left, then slams her foot into the ground. A ring of salt sprays out from the impact, lingering in the air like early morning mist. She turns her focus to the two remaining humanoids¨Cone gun pointed at each of them¨Cand magic runs through her suit in veins of visible blue.

    Shining like a star in my awareness, she gets to work. She rears back and slams her foot into the column of salt, forcing the blue to bleed out from her suit into the salt itself. In a heartbeat it becomes saturated with magic, solidifying from a mist into something that clicks and shivers in an almost musical tone. It blocks a spray of molten salt easily and retaliates with a lance of magic that shears right through the humanoid, skewering it to the wall behind it on a thin spike of magic.

    It growls out a low noise and reaches down to pry the spike from its body. The little blue thing snaps easily. And explodes violently not a moment later.

    I throw up a shield as chunks of salt¨Csome from the elemental and some from the surrounding walls¨Cbatters everything in the room. None of the other elementals so much as react. Ursula stares at the site of the explosion until the salt dust clears, then concentrates her focus on the other humanoid.

    ¡°The hell was that?¡± I mutter to myself as I turn to the one elemental she left me. And the two non-humanoids, but they¡¯re not worth worrying about. ¡°She shouldn¡¯t have access to her spells.¡±

    March makes a strange noise¨Cprobably from the sudden sound we forgot to warn her about¨Cand starts typing away once more. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you exactly what it is, but it¡¯s some kind of explosive gel she made. She keeps it in her suit as a power source, since it¡¯s completely harmless as a liquid but really explosive as a solid.¡±

    That¡¯s pretty much telling me exactly what it is, in my eyes. But I guess there¡¯s way more to it if that¡¯s not even the shortened explanation. I raise my dagger arm to flare a shield against another pincusion, then shove it to the ground and summon a shield between it and the humanoid. Molten salt flows free from the ground around the humanoid, crashing into the shield in an attempt to protect the pincusion from the projectile I just dropped on it.

    My shield holds long enough, and the elementals¡¯ forces are down to two humanoids and two pincusions. Flowing salt consumes the pincusion¡¯s remains as my shield gives out. I push off the ground high enough to clear the attack. The elemental glows bright, and the flow hardens in an instant. Tiny spines burst free of the salt and pepper a shield I throw under my feet, which stops the salt buff from keeping me afloat. I feel each and every little impact, like countless bugs smacking against a motorcycle helmet, but they¡¯re not even enough to shatter the shield. Not even with my extra weight weakening it.

    Which has to mean they¡¯re doing something else. I glance down quickly, and sure enough, dozens and dozens of little molten pock-marks bubble on the surface of the salt. Each of them with as much magic inside of them as the pincusion had. The tiny spines each start to glow as well¨Cbut only on the very tips, and only on the sides that aren¡¯t lodged into my shield.

    Awareness suddenly sears into my mind, screaming warning from each and every one of the tiny spines. I wince and shove off my shield, cracking it slightly in the process, and stumble through the air as my awareness keeps yelling at me to back away.

    Pock marks molten with salt swirl, shake, and erupt violently with molten strands that look like tendrils of horrific pain to my awareness. They sear into my mind, causing horrible shivers just like the thorns falling in the main room for the moments between launch and them crashing into my shield. Which shatters when the very first of the tendrils shears clean through it.

    But they don¡¯t stop there. Dozens and dozens of the tiny spines fly free, spiraling randomly throughout the room. Each of which is followed by a molten tendril like a bloodhound in hot pursuit. I grit my teeth and put up as many shields as I can to stop the random assault, but they too are broken like sugar glass.

    ¡°How the hell did this thing get so much power?¡± I wince and hyperextend my neck as a spine whizzes by, chased closely after by a tendril that nicks my cheek. The wound is immediately salted, and the pain is stinging and deep.

    More and more spines manage to find their way to my general direction. I look down and make the snap decision that it¡¯s safer down there than still in the air. Salt meets shoulder with a single thought, and I roll into a crouching lunge that gets me as close to the humanoid as possible. It¡¯s glowing features lock onto me instantly, and the salt underneath it roils and shifts as it prepares something else. Attack, defence, I don¡¯t know yet, but my awareness isn¡¯t screaming at me to avoid it. So my money would be on defence.

    I can work with that. My shield-knife slams into a crystal barrier as it sprouts from the ground, sending shockwaves up my arm and throughout my brain, but they¡¯re not enough to stop me. I focus on the shape of the knife¡¯s projection and envision a thin, piercing line¨Cjust like the one Ursula used to explode her own humanoid¨Cand force it down my awareness to rest in the knife.

    For a few terrifying moments, it doesn¡¯t move. The elemental shudders and cracks as the salt shifts beneath my feet, creating a carpet of moving salt that¡¯s reminiscent of the one that just shot spines into my shield. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus everything on the knife as I say a silent prayer.

    Sensations flow right back at me through my awareness. Emptiness. Weakness. Hunger. It stretches along my arm and reaches down to my coin holster, wraps around a skeleton, and makes me aware of why everything¡¯s not doing what I want it to. It¡¯s not the salt. It¡¯s not my ability.

    There just isn¡¯t enough magic left.

    Sharpness digs itself into the soles of my boots. It doesn¡¯t reach my skin, but my awareness informs me of just how close it got. I swallow hard and withdraw a single iron five from my Worth, push a shield into it, and flip it as quickly as humanly possible. Once the spell settles, I slap the coin into the slot on my knife.

    And activate Shoreline Risemuation to turn it into a skeleton before the blade takes it.

    Fragile magic nearly shatters as it enters the knife, but holds just long enough for the blade to swallow its power. My command remains whole and strong, now empowered by a ten Worth skeleton screaming towards the edge of my knife. Magic blossoms into being, then keeps going. And going. And going.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Until it skewers through everything to get to the humanoid elemental. The spines at my feet start to grow warmer and the salt stirs with violent promises. My thin line of death isn¡¯t dealing much death right now, but with a single thought, it expands. A mass of razor-sharp darkness explodes inside of the elemental¨Cincredibly solid and deadly¨Cseparating it into six clean pieces. One of the shields shears clean through its core, and the entire thing goes limp at once.

    I sigh in relief as the spines under my feet begin to melt away. That spell¨Cwhatever it was¨Cwas way deadlier than it had any right being. It was just locator pins for the spell itself to track. Did that really up the deadliness by so?

    Spikes shatter on a shield as my awareness flares once more, and I turn to shoot the pincushion an ugly glance. Two projectile-filled coins fly free from my right, and in a spray of salt and light, the thing isn¡¯t my problem any more. From the lack of elementals and Ursula holstering her guns, she¡¯s done too.

    ¡°All good?¡± She asks.

    I nod and call for the magic in my knife to form back into plates. ¡°All good, yeah. The spine attack was pretty damn terrifying, but I think I¨CGAH!¡±

    Shield plates overtake my vision completely. I stumble around for a few seconds as they finish solidifying around the entirety of my arm and most of my torso, then blink rapidly when the world comes into focus just as quickly.

    Ursula laughs and crosses her arms. ¡°From the sound you made I¡¯m guessing that wasn¡¯t intentional?¡±

    ¡°No, it was definitely not.¡± I confirm and run my fingers over the plates that should be blocking my vision. Instead, I can see through them almost perfectly. Save for the fact that the world¡¯s completely black and everything¡¯s just outlined in a shifting rainbow of colours.

    The elemental drops down before I can say anything else. It turns and scans the room in one uniform motion, then sinks into the floor until only their elemental cores are visible. Ursula and I share a worried look as everything starts to shake in rhythmic fashion.

    She rests a hand on her gun once more. ¡°Ready for whatever happens?¡±

    I respond by summoning some coins.

    Light and vibrations course through the salty heart, all the machinery in the walls locked up tight by the crystalline salt pulsing and struggling as the elemental does whatever it¡¯s doing. More of the same sensations twitch down my spine along to every pulse. My awareness flares too, rippling like a glass of water heralding the approach of some massive beast.

    The elemental erupts from the floor and grabs my arm. ¡°I am having troubles. Come help.¡±

    Before I can get a word in, my world splits into a mess of sensations and colours that dance like glass leaves on a wind that can¡¯t decide which way it wants to blow. Salt stings my eyes and I squeeze them shut, letting my awareness and the elemental drag me to wherever the hell it needs help.

    Pearl leans forward with obvious interest. She cups her chin with her hands and rests her elbows on something, then mouths a few words that¡¯re clear as day.

    ¡®She¡¯s a little like me.¡¯

    If she wanted to get my attention, that¡¯s one surefire way to do it. I wrench my eyes open through the stinging and call my plates to form a better seal, which they do, except they¡¯re trapping the salty¡­ air?... in with me. But the buff keeps it from doing any real damage, so I keep my eyes open and locked on the elemental core that¡¯s dragging me ever deeper. Even though we definitely should¡¯ve touched metal at this point.

    How is this thing like Pearl? They¡¯re both magical creatures, that¡¯s for sure, but it doesn¡¯t feel like the entire story. The elemental is salt, and Pearl is cosmic goo, which¡­ I guess could be kind of close? Shivers run down my spine as the elemental dissolves into just its core, leaving behind no trace of its body, but the pressure on my arm remains all the same.

    ¡°Signals.¡± I murmur as it hits me. ¡°You¡¯re just a mass of signals that¡¯s controlling a bunch of salt. But somehow, you have way more signals than all the other elementals. Where¡¯s the thing that makes you?¡±

    The elemental doesn¡¯t respond, but the sensations down my spine somehow take a downturn. As if they¡¯re sad that they, too, don¡¯t know. I never got that from the elemental when it spoke.

    My follow up question lingers on the tip of my tongue as the salt spits me out and deposits me on a metal floor. A dull, thudding echo reverberates through the entire place as I knit my eyebrow in surprise, then look up to see just how far we traveled. Ursula tilts her head from not two dozen feet above me and waves sarcastically.

    I roll my eyes and return the wave, then turn to whatever the elemental wanted me to be here for. It manifests a body for itself once more and whatever sensations it had been feeding me disappear instantly.

    ¡°There is something here I do not know how to deal with.¡± It says, leading me towards a panel on the wall that drips oily grease. ¡°Sensitive electronics reside inside of this. Yet for some reason I cannot access them.¡±

    This time, I only wait a few seconds for the follow-up that¡¯s never going to come. I click my tongue and raise my plate-protected hand to the greasy panel. They squeegee away the gunk with a thought, flinging it every which way except for directly at me. The five Worth coin turned skeleton is much more attentive to my thoughts, but I can feel exhaustion slowly building in the background. And that¡¯s with barely any use at all.

    I shake my head and put the thought to the side. It looks like there¡¯s something on the panel¨Csome paint or whatever that¡¯s been nearly destroyed by all the krarig gunk. Might¡¯ve been yellow at some point, since there¡¯s flecks of the colour dotting the metal, but that could also just be some weird rust. I screw my eyebrows together and get as close as I can without my nose touching the gunk¨Cit really looks like there was something here before. Something I should probably be able to recognize.

    It¡¯s long, twisting, and not that thick. Almost like someone dotted a worm with paint and threw it at the¨Cno, shit. Not a worm¨Ca snake. One with the traces of five legs and two slightly more distinguishable tongues.

    ¡°Architect, patch Mercenary into the comms.¡± I say as I trace my fingers along the paint. ¡°I think I found another one of the symbols.¡±

    ¡°Really? Cool. Patching her in now.¡± March says eagerly. ¡°Which one is it?¡±

    ¡°Which one is what?¡± Ursula asks.

    ¡°Pretty sure it¡¯s the snake.¡± I answer with growing excitement. ¡°The elemental¡¯s pretty sure there¡¯s sensitive machinery behind it. Just like there was behind that keyboard in the pump room.¡±

    ¡°Well damn. You need any help getting it off?¡± Ursula offers. ¡°Uh, actually, scratch that. I have no idea how I¡¯m supposed to get down there with you.¡±

    ¡°No worries; I got this.¡±

    I run my finger all along the plate, gently pushing a barrier into the smallest of seams that¡¯s leaking out the gunk. Once I¡¯ve got the entire thing surrounded by tissue-thin shields with wedging edges, I take a step back and motion for the elemental to do the same. It doesn¡¯t.

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me if you get grease all over you.¡± I say as I focus my awareness onto the shields. It seems to consider that for a moment, then backs up one single step. ¡°Yeah, sure, that¡¯s exactly what I meant. Ripping the panel off in three¡­ two¡­ one!¡±

 Chapter 83: Heart To Heart

    With one thought, all the shields converge towards the center of the panel. The metal dislodges with a wet pop, clattering uselessly to the ground as a flow of grease takes its place. It¡¯s nowhere near enough to fill the space we¡¯re in, but it¡¯s definitely enough to get on my shoes if we stay here too long.

    I kick away the panel and trail my eyes over the mess of wires and circuitry that¡¯s haphazardly thrown together in the panel. The stuff¡¯s so tightly wound that it looks like a ball of yarn that pulsates along to the sensations in the room. Almost like¡­ muscle fibers.

    The thing pulses hard, and the fiber-wires open wide to expel a chunk of something that shoots out just over my shoulder and lodges itself in the other wall. I blink in surprise and raise a hand to make sure I¡¯ve still got my ear as the elemental finally goes up to the now open panel and studies it very closely.

    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Ursula asks in my ear. ¡°Oh, shit, was that a Class Coin? Is this the vault?¡±

    I swivel around and jog over to the¡­ thing that¡¯s stuck in the wall. It¡¯s a finger length spear of sharpened metal, grey and boring save for the etching of a five-legged, two-tongued snake wrapped around it.

    ¡°Definitely not a Class Coin, but probably a clue.¡± I grip the thing between two fingers and pull. Wet popping accompanies the metal spear, and a trickle of greasy oil spills out of the hole it leaves behind. ¡°It¡¯s not doing something weird like the tickets, either.¡±

    The metal rolls easily through my fingers, and I instinctually flip it around like a pencil. It doesn¡¯t explode on me, or turn into frost, which I really appreciate. Not a lot of things have been magically inert recently.

    Ursula hums deep in her throat. ¡°That¡¯s what¡­ two down, three to go? Or was it two to go?¡±

    ¡°Two to go.¡± March answers. ¡°The skull and the goat are left. If there are two more hearts, I¡¯d bet that¡¯s where they¡¯ll be.¡±

    ¡°Probably a safe bet. But if that¡¯s true, then why the hell was the first one in the pump room?¡± Ursula asks. She leans down close to the layer of salt that separates us and pulls out her ticket. ¡°Was that actually a heart, or¡­ maybe some other vital organ? Could¡¯ve been the krarig¡¯s brain. But, uh, I¡¯ve never heard of a brain with a dump truck in it.¡±

    I chuckle to myself at that image. ¡°That¡¯d be one of the weirdest tumors in the history of everything. Hey, elemental, you almost done?¡±

    The elemental doesn¡¯t turn to look at me; it keeps messing with the panel on the wall as molten salt flows up its body and into the inner workings of the krarig. Stopping it crosses my mind more than once, especially since it could make things so much worse, but one look at the enraptured interest on Pearl¡¯s face stops those thoughts dead in their tracks. She¡¯s still got a much better awareness than mine, and if she¡¯s happy to wait and see, then I guess I am too.

    Eventually the elemental takes a step back, salt flowing up the wall to replace the panel with a see-through square of its own. ¡°My apologies; I was concentrating. And as you can clearly see, I am now finished.¡±

    ¡°So the krarig won¡¯t wake up for a little while longer?¡± I ask. It shakes its head. ¡°Wait¨Cthat¡¯s the entire reason we helped you here. What kind of shit are you trying to pull?¡±

    ¡°I am not pulling anything.¡± The elemental states. ¡°I merely twisted the truth to attain your aid.¡±

    ¡°It better start telling the goddamn truth right now.¡± Ursula hisses through her teeth. ¡°Tell it that. Or else I¡¯m putting bullets through all of its cores.¡±

    Didn¡¯t need her to tell me that. ¡°Tell me the untwisted truth right now. And if we find out it''s another lie, we¡¯re not giving you a second chance.¡±

    The elemental¡¯s light dims ever so slightly. ¡°Earlier, I presented you with two clashing facts; one: destroying each of the krarig¡¯s hearts would prevent it from waking. Two: when I gained control over one heart, it would not be able to wake. The first statement is the entire truth. The second statement is incomplete.¡±

    I flip a coin into my hand and motion for her to go on. It. Her. Whatever¨Cfor some reason the thing lying to me makes it feel all the more human. However screwed up that actually is.

    ¡°Explain.¡±

    The elemental¡¯s head bobs ever so slightly. Almost like she just nodded at me. ¡°Even if I gained control over all three hearts, it would not be enough to stop it from waking. What it would do is give me more time to figure out how not to die.¡± The elemental¡¯s core pulses bright, and I can almost imagine that it just swallowed hard. ¡°I have slowed its awakening for nearly two years from just encasing its hearts. They did not exist as you see them now, but when it truly began to wake, the transformation overtook everything. Including me.¡±

    Hands trace down the elemental¡¯s body in an almost¡­ sensual motion. As if she was truly enjoying the feel of her own form. This¡­ feels different. She¡¯s still talking the same, but now she¡¯s actually starting to emote and supplement her words with motions. Did salting the heart do this?

    ¡°So you¡¯re just trying to stay alive.¡± I say without lowering my coin. ¡°Which means we¡¯re working towards different ends now. We¡¯ve got a word for that, but the second I say it, there¡¯s no going back. Really hope you don¡¯t make me spit it out.¡±

    ¡°I am not your enemy.¡± The elemental says the moment the words finish leaving my mouth. ¡°I only wish to live. There must be some compromise in which we both get what we are looking for.¡±

    With a glance up at Ursula, I see her make a very exaggerated thumbs-down. My initial instinct is to agree with her¨Cwe¡¯ve got a heart right here. Some well placed explosives and all our problems are gone. But if we leave the elemental alive and in charge of the hearts, the best we can hope for is a little delay before the krarig wakes up. And the potential of it getting possessed by a bunch of salt elementals, making it even more deadly.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Pearl and my awareness pull me the other way. Pure curiosity seems to drive Pearl¡¯s decision, and honestly, I can¡¯t blame her. The salt elementals are incredibly interesting¨Cespecially with their ability to completely take the apocalypse out of the apocalypse touched monsters.

    My awareness latches onto the elemental like a clingy ex. Something about the elemental¡¯s ability to talk through other elementals triggers my awareness like almost nothing else, and if I kill it here and now, I¡¯ll never know why that is.

    A frown tugs at my lips as both options war for purchase. Making a decision this huge isn¡¯t easy, especially when there¡¯s life on the line. I flex my fingers and take a deep breath, then push all of my awareness into the coin between my fingers. Fate coats it in a thin layer of magic, and I take a deep breath as I flick the coin into the air.

    Heads we kill the heart. Tails we find another way.

    Twist Fate.

    Heads or Tails.

    Best or Worst.

    It¡¯s never as clean as black or white.

    Call it.

    ¡°Best for me.¡±

    The world slows as the coin reaches its apex. Once everything completely stops it begins to glow and shift; one side dripping a thick, oily substance and the other sprouting a bouquet of salty spines. Each spine shudders in turn, then sprouts into a brilliantly gleaming flower of molten salt. It twists unnaturally, pushing the oily face to the bottom, and slams itself into the metal below as the world normalizes.

    When I look down, the flowers remain. The elemental makes a strange noise from deep within her; a melodic ringing like the start of glass instruments harmonizing. Nothing joins her harmony. Somber notes seep into the sound, overtaking it piece by piece until there¡¯s nothing left but the sadness. I reach down and pick up the coin. All the salt flowers crumble to dust the moment my fingers touch it.

    Revealing that tails lies victorious. I glance at the elemental, who I swear is far more anxious than a second ago, then look up and offer Ursula a shrug. She sighs directly into my ear, but motions with her gun for me to go ahead. Feels good to be trusted.

    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s your lucky day.¡± I tell the elemental as I pocket the coin. She¡­ visibly relaxes? Or did I just imagine it? ¡°Take us to the other hearts. We¡¯ll prolong the inevitable for as long as we can, but once we¡¯re done, we have to come up with a plan that doesn¡¯t involve creating a super krarig and unleashing it for the preservation to deal with.¡±

    The elemental grabs my arm and jumps. I squeeze my eyes shut as the sensations go strange once more, but this time¡­ they¡¯re nicer. Not really sure how, but they¡¯re just a little softer. A little less invasive. Not enough time to get a good feel, though, since this little journey takes what feels like a tenth of the time the other one did. Leaving me standing right in front of Ursula with the elemental at my side.

    Ursula tilts her head at the elemental. ¡°You got a plan for this thing, or are we winging it?¡±

    ¡°Winging it.¡± I toss her an empty coin. ¡°The elemental¡¯s going to lead us to the other hearts before the preservation gets here. Depending on how that goes, we might be able to swing something.¡± With a sideward glance at the elemental, I feel that I¡¯ve made the right choice. But not the easy choice. ¡°Better get moving. Or soon we won¡¯t be the only ones trying to destroy this place.¡±

    <hr>

    The second heart lies beyond another one of the exits March pointed out to us. None of the other apocalypse-touched monsters bother us while the mermaid-like elemental leads us through the salt gardens. In fact, it seems like they¡¯re all avoiding us like the plague. Except for a freezerphant that bellows at us angrily, spraying magical coolant from its trunk that adorns its tusks and body with spiky, icy armor. Even the ground around it starts to freeze and crack, exposing tiny rifts of molten salt that burble beneath the surface like miniature volcanoes.

    At least it was bothering us until a massive thorn dropped from the ceiling, skewering it to the ground and killing it instantly. The elemental doesn¡¯t even shoot it a glance as a bunch of cores rise up from the cracks in the floor to haplessly try and take over the now empty shell.

    Not even fifteen minutes later, the elemental leads us directly to a wall. March¡¯s map says there¡¯s an exit here, and with a tap of the elemental¡¯s fingers to the wall, it shatters into a million pieces. Revealing a bowl-like chasm beyond with massive crystalline formations that remind me of those decorative geodes you¡¯d see in souvenir shop windows.

    Except each of the spires is heavily decorated with vines, drooping flowers, and all other sorts of vegetation. Pride almost beams off the emotionless elemental as it beckons us to follow it in, but that¡¯s probably just me humanizing it. Yeah. Definitely.

    The elemental takes a step into thin air, and we follow it. Sounds of something rumble up from far below, but a thick mist of salty air conceals whatever¡¯s down there. Said mist also screws with my awareness, so when Ursula nudges me for an explanation, all I have for her is an apologetic shrug.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know why I expected anything else.¡± She sighs. ¡°Architect, you getting the lay of this cavern? Any chance the coins we¡¯re looking for are somewhere under all that salt mist?¡±

    March starts talking, but sputters and chokes on whatever she was trying to drink at the same time. I roll my eyes as Ursula chuckles lightly, the elemental leading us further and further away as March collects herself.

    ¡°The equip¨C¡± March coughs wetly, then clears her throat. ¡°It¡¯s working okay, but the bottom¡¯s coming in really slowly. No signs of any Class Coins yet.¡±

    ¡°Tell us when there is. Or when you¡¯ve got a clear picture and there¡¯s still nothing.¡± Ursula says as she jogs ahead to walk in front of the elemental. She spins on her heel, then continues walking backwards. ¡°Might as well start making that plan now. So, salty miss, right now every outcome involves you dying. Got any suggestions?¡±

    The elemental doesn¡¯t say anything. But she does glow a little brighter. Which, I guess, means it¡¯s my turn to talk.

    ¡°There¡¯s a good chance this place is a mashup of some random salt mine and the oil rig. Maybe if we can find where the salt mine is, we can undo whatever combined them?¡±

    A spark of molten light flickers in one of the elemental¡¯s cores. I have absolutely no idea what the hell that¡¯s supposed to mean.

    ¡°There is no possibility for that outcome.¡± The elemental states. ¡°I would have memories of before this krarig if there was initially magic in the theorized quarry. Returning there would have the exact same outcome as destroying the krarig.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°How can you be sure if you¡¯ve never been there?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But I know.¡± The elemental says unhelpfully.

    Ursula points a pair of finger guns at the elemental. ¡°We call that ¡®instinct¡¯, salty.¡±

    ¡°Do not call me ¡®salty¡¯.¡±

    I¡¯m not sure how she does it, but Ursula manages to get into a low-stakes argument with an emotionless elemental. It¡¯s just sentences being slung back and forth with petty little insults on Ursula¡¯s side and denial on the elemental¡¯s but it¡¯s damn impressive anyway.

    Something thick and gooey creeps into my awareness as the two of them bicker. I put my hand over my eyes and squint down into the mists, but all I can latch onto is a tiny flicker of that sensation about a mile away. It comes and goes like an extremely quickened tide from absolutely nothing to a twinge of something. By the time I¡¯m even sure it¡¯s something worth nothing, the elemental stops us not a dozen feet from it. Well, a dozen feet horizontally and a mile long vertical drop.

    ¡°We are right above the second heart. There is a rolling cover of grease that prevents our entry. I will give a signal when it is¨Cnow.¡±

    She drops like a stone into the mists below.

 Chapter 84: Arterial Blockages

    It takes all of a split second to register what just happened. I suck air through my teeth and command my body to fall, screaming air and pelting salt whipping by as my awareness falters bit by bit. The thought that the elemental is bringing us down here to kill us briefly flashes through my mind, but I shove it away just as quickly.

    We need each other for now. If she killed us, it¡¯d be the same as killing herself in a few days.

    ¡°Watch¡­ signal¡­ salt.¡± March¡¯s voice crackles into my ear, and even though I missed most of the words, I get the picture. ¡°I¡­ be¡­ any help.¡±

    A sharp tone splits my ear directly through the earpiece. I wince and reach up to pull it away, but before I can get my fingers around the device, the noise cuts out.

    ¡°Just put ¡®em on local mode.¡± Ursula says clear as day from a dozen feet higher than me. ¡°Looks like the salt only screws with signals going into or out of it, not ones already inside of it. That¡¯d be damn good encryption if we could get our hands on it.¡±

    I glance up at a light popping noise to see Ursula swipe a glass jar through the salty fog. Must be nice to be as calm and collected as she is to collect samples in a moment like this. The mist completely overtakes us, swallowing everything whole for all of five seconds.

    Solid metal meets my feet. I wince at the shockwave that shoots through my bones all the way to rattle my teeth, stumbling forward as the weightlessness of the salt buff is ripped away. The elemental stands a few feet away from me in a pile of jagged salt crystals that slowly knit together to reform her shattered tail.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t know there was¨C¡± I start, but remember Ursula just in time. ¡°Metal down here, Mercenary. Brace for impact.¡±

    ¡°AAAAHthankyou!¡± Ursula grunts as blue explodes out of the bottom of her feet, expanding into thick puddles that shatter into a billion pieces as they absorb her impact. ¡°Phew. Nice warning, Gambler. Would¡¯ve had to dip into the health potions if it didn¡¯t come.¡± She turns to the elemental and pauses. ¡°How¡¯d you break?¡±

    ¡°I was not aware of the lack of salt at the very bottom.¡± The elemental says as her body reknits itself. ¡°It would appear that the Gambler was the only one of us who managed to react in time.¡±

    I ignore what I¡¯m not sure is a compliment and take a good look around. Salt thorns burst up through the metal floor absolutely everywhere, caked in salt vegetation so thick that they look like strange works of art. But the salt doesn¡¯t expand from the jagged holes in the metal, leaving the ground almost perfectly intact everywhere else.

    ¡°Weird. Almost looks like the ground is salt-proof.¡± I note as I rub the salt mist from my forehead before it can drip into my eyes. ¡°Does that mean the heart¡¯s really close?¡±

    ¡°No. As you had seen from the previous heart, it does not have any innate properties that prevent salt from clinging to it.¡± The elemental gestures at a thorn a few dozen feet from us. ¡°I previously pierced the heart with this thorn. We will travel through it.¡±

    She flashes bright for a second. Molten salt burbles and froths in an arch until there¡¯s a visible indent in the thorn, quickly cooling as the stuff sloughs off to make us a welcome mat.

    ¡°So what was all that timing bullshit?¡± Ursula asks as we all crowd into the elevator-sized indent. The elemental¡¯s tail wraps around all of us, leaving barely any space to move. ¡°If we just had to walk into a thorn, then what was the point?¡±

    The elemental raises a hand and the thorn seals us in. A sensation of movement hits me right in the stomach. ¡°There are currents in the mists that make it quite difficult to find the correct place. If we had fallen any later, we could have ended up on the complete opposite side of our objective. Any earlier and we may have found ourselves surrounded by elemental-possessed apocalyptic monsters.¡±

    Ursula elbows the elemental in the chest. ¡°And you couldn¡¯t tell us that while we were flying because¡­?¡±

    ¡°I did not think to mention it. Apologies.¡±

    For some reason, that¡¯s enough for Ursula. She nods and crosses her arms, leaning back against the back of the makeshift elevator far more casually than she should be in this situation. I shoot her a confused look, but thanks to the helmet, all I get is a shrug in return.

    Did I miss something? Is there a reason why Ursula decided to trust the elemental way more than she did half an hour ago? I purse my lips and look to Pearl for any help, but she, too, can only offer me a shrug. At least she has the decency to look amused by Ursula¡¯s change of heart.

    My stomach hits the top of my throat as pressure builds in my knees.

    ¡°We have arrived.¡± The elemental states. The door cuts itself into being once more, revealing a metal room filled with huge chunks of salt strewn haphazardly about. ¡°I apologize for the mess. There was a far greater threat here that it seems has disappeared. Quite a stroke of luck for us.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, luck.¡± Ursula states flatly as she walks into the room and looks around. She doesn¡¯t even go for her guns. After close to thirty seconds of pinched silence as the elemental and I pull ourselves out of the room she turns back to us and motions at the back wall. ¡°Salty, can you undo the crystals blocking that vent up there? And all the panels marked with ¡®X¡¯s around the room.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at how quickly Ursula took charge this time. ¡°What lit a fire under your ass between the last heart and this one?¡±

    Ursula taps her foot as the elemental clears away the salt she asked for. ¡°This room ain¡¯t the same as the one before, but I¡¯ve got some heat signatures suggesting that there¡¯s stuff trapped in exactly the places I pointed out. Can your awareness feel any imminent danger from ¡®em?¡±

    There¡¯s no reason to focus for a better look. ¡°Nothing. Not even a single elemental.¡±

    ¡°Mmh. That¡¯s what I¡¯m worried about.¡± Ursula mutters to herself as she walks up to the vent and bends down. ¡°I studied the last krarig pretty damn in depth when the reports came out, and the one heart they didn¡¯t blow to smithereens looked a hell of a lot like this one. Vents everywhere, panels covering random parts of the walls, and no equipment to be found. You know how squid hearts work, Gambler?¡±

    ¡°Nope. But I can guess that there¡¯s three of them?¡±

    She kicks off the vent flap with the world¡¯s tiniest explosion. ¡°Three hearts, yeah. Simple version is that there¡¯s two lesser ones and one main one; with the main one having three chambers. Salty?¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t like that.¡± The elemental says, but moves for Ursula anyway. ¡°How can I be of assistance?¡±

    Ursula gestures at the vent. ¡°Go in there and see if there¡¯s actually three separate rooms. The two of us are too heavy for the ductwork, and we¡¯ve got¡­ other things we need to do. Come back when you know how to take this one over.¡±

    The elemental hesitates, as if it has something to say, but slips into the vent without saying a word. When she¡¯s gone Ursula nods over at the panels the elemental revealed for us.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Rip ¡®em open and look for another one of the symbols.¡± Ursula says, then beelines for a panel and starts doing exactly that. The sound of shearing metal sends a shiver down my spine, which is echoed by another unnatural spike of magic. Not from Ursula, but from¡­ something else.

    Maybe the thing the elemental alluded to.

    <hr>

    Twenty minutes of pulling panels later, we¡¯re done with the room. Ursula and I both have absolutely nothing to show for the effort, save for a few chunks of pulsating circuitry out of maybe fifty panels. None of them trickle greasy gunk, thankfully, but they do¡­ stink a little. Like fish left out in the summer sun for just a little too long.

    A clunking in the vents heralds the elemental¡¯s return.

    ¡°I have returned.¡± The elemental states as it pulls itself out of the vent. ¡°And I have dealt with the issue that previously plagued this heart.¡±

    She fully removes her body from the vent, trailing her long tail behind her. Which is wrapped around a long, slender piece of apocalypse-touched machinery that looks dangerously like a massive drill bit.

    Ursula leans back and sniffs. ¡°That¡¯s the dangerous thing? Salty, everything we fought in the other heart was ten times more deadly than¡­ that.¡±

    ¡°Dangerous and deadly are not necessarily one and the same. And do not call me salty.¡± The elemental flicks her tail, letting the ¡®corpse¡¯ screech over to where Ursula and I stand. ¡°It had the ability to bore deep into the metal at a moment¡¯s notice. Chasing it down was quite the annoyance, but now that it is gone, it cannot chip away the salt from this heart.¡±

    ¡°Neat. Did you see any weird looking symbols like the one on the other heart¡¯s panel while you were running around?¡± Ursula asks.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    I sigh through my nose. ¡°More info, please.¡±

    The elemental¡¯s glow¡­ pulsates a little. Somehow, it feels smug. She reaches behind her back and reveals a fist-sized box wrapped in countless metal wires. Wires that, when turned to exactly one side, reveal a skull-like symbol.

    ¡°This was inside one of the vents.¡± She tosses the box to Ursula, who then tosses it to me. The elemental looks mildly befuddled by that. ¡°I have already salted the other two chambers. This one will take no longer than a minute.¡±

    I nod absentmindedly as I pick at the wires and step aside to let the elemental do her thing. They¡¯re not overly thick¨Cabout as wide as a rubber band all the way around¨Cbut they¡¯re pressed in tight. From the looks of the connecting points that seep with deep black solder, whoever did this was an amateur. Or didn¡¯t give a shit about how it looked as long as the skull was visible.

    My knife cuts through them all the same. With a nearly musical crescendo they pop free one by one, sailing into the air as the build-up tension is released. The first one surprised the hell out of me¨Csince I wasn¡¯t expecting them to be under any pressure¨Cbut the rest of them are kind of cathartic. Like watching popcorn pop.

    Once they¡¯re all gone, I¡¯m left with nothing but a simple black metal box. With actual hinges at the top and a few simple welds keeping it shut. Welds meet knife. Box creaks open to give me a peek at the goodies inside.

    Goodie. Singular, actually, as there¡¯s only one thing in there. A tiny bottle of jet-black ink that sparkles ever so slightly with silver flakes when the light of the room hits it. I dismiss the magic in my knife and gently grab it between two fingers, extracting it from its metal prison. Which I promptly toss to the side and forget about.

    ¡°Hey, watch it.¡± Ursula says even though the box didn¡¯t come within twenty feet of her. But she still gets the eye-roll from me she was looking for. ¡°You could¡¯ve put someone¡¯s eye out with that.¡±

    I shoot her an annoyed glance. ¡°You¡¯ve got a helmet. And the elemental doesn¡¯t even have eyes.¡±

    Ursula sighs and trods over to me, planting a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Ah, there¡¯s nothing better than having my joke explained back to me. So, what¡¯s in the box? Just the ink, or are you hiding something from me?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t have time to hide much of anything, thank you very much.¡± I hold up the ink for her to see. She doesn¡¯t reach out to grab it. ¡°Looks like pretty bog-standard ink to me. My awareness says it isn¡¯t anything magical, either.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s probably just ink.¡± Ursula turns to the elemental and whistles. ¡°Hey, salty! If you¡¯re done screwing around, we¡¯ve got one more heart to deal with.¡±

    The elemental disconnects her hand from the pulsing circuitry. ¡°I am done. And I am not ¡®salty¡¯, as I have informed you multiple times.¡± She slithers over to us, then nearly barges into us as she beelines for the door. ¡°The last heart should have nothing inside of it. But it is quite a trek from where we are. I would prefer you did not collapse on me on the way there.¡±

    I roll my eyes and let a coin drop to the floor as I make my way to the elevator. Ursula notices, but from under her helmet, I can¡¯t tell if she¡¯s trying to make an expression at me. But hey, I¡¯m the one with the contingency plans. She can be confused about them all she likes.

    <hr>

    Climbing up one of the thorns to get into the salt mist, which in turn reactivated our buffs, was the most exciting part about the third heart. Mostly it was just a long-ass run through the depths of the krarig, occasional fights against apocalypse-touched shit that went down pretty easily in the face of our combined might, and the occasional verbal jab from Ursula directed at the elemental.

    It feels like they¡¯re slowly becoming friends. Even more so now that the elemental has two hearts under her control. I swear I¡¯m not imagining that her core glows along with what I assume are her emotions, and she¡¯s been speaking a little freer by the minute. Is Ursula trying to do this on purpose? Is she coaxing a personality out of the elemental, little by little?

    Well, if she is, then that personality is definitely going to hate the word ¡®salty¡¯ with a passion. Considering how much the elemental hates it already.

    ¡°Do not call me salty.¡± The elemental says with something that almost sounds like variation in her voice. ¡°I will not show you the next heart if you keep calling me salty.¡±

    ¡°Aw, you hate it so much that you¡¯d consign yourself to death just to get me to stop saying it.¡± Ursula laughs and nudges the elemental with her elbow. ¡°That¡¯s adorable. And could be completely fixed if you just told me what your name actually is.¡±

    The elemental¡¯s cores shine in bright lines. ¡°I already informed you that I do not have a name. No amount of emotional prodding will get me to admit something that does not exist.¡±

    ¡°Then just make one up.¡± I sigh from the lead position that I somehow found myself in. ¡°You¡¯re a living, thinking thing. Think up a name you won¡¯t hate. But do it after we make sure we aren¡¯t all going to randomly die.¡±

    To emphasize my point, I gesture at the faraway heart, hanging from a massive thorn sticking out of the ceiling by thick cables and thin, pulsating strands of solid grease. The heart¡¯s been visible for a good five minutes now, but something¡¯s been slowing the elemental¡¯s roll. She turns from Ursula to me for a second, then skims right over and locks onto the heart.

    ¡°You are correct. I have yet to visit this heart, but as such, it is unlikely other elementals have found a way inside.¡± The elemental overtakes me in a heartbeat and a whirl of wind. ¡°I will think on the topic of a name for myself. Anything to prevent Mercenary from addressing me with that horrid nickname.¡±

    ¡°What? Salty ain¡¯t so bad.¡± Ursula says with what I imagine is a wolfish grin. ¡°It¡¯s pretty damn fitting, since you¡¯re salty in form and in personality. In fact, I can¡¯t really think of a better name for you than¨C¡±

    The elemental clenches both of her fists. Salty mist pours off of her, boils in the air, and disappears. Moments later the thorn connected to the heart starts to rumble, creak, and blossom with thousands of small growths that look a little like closed tulips. Something tugs on my awareness to get me to stop, and I hold out an arm to keep Ursula from getting any closer.

    One by one, the tulips open. One by one, thick strands of molten salt drip down onto the heart, each containing enough magic for my awareness to scream danger at me. Pearl gasps in shock. Ursula makes a noise in the back of her throat that could be either grudging respect or outright fear.

    Just as the entire heart is encased in salt, a massive thorn erupts straight through the middle of it. Spines branch off as it grows, spearing the heart through like a frog that tried to swallow a porcupine. A head-sized chunk of metal soars through the air, slams down on the ground a few feet away from us, and skids right into the elemental¡¯s waiting tail.

    She gently reaches down to grab it, studies it for a second, then slowly turns it towards us. Revealing that it¡¯s got hinges keeping it shut and a goat hastily painted on the dented side.

    ¡°It seems that I¡¯ve found your last piece.¡± She states as her core smugly pulsates. ¡°I would be quite happy to give it to you. As long as you refrain from calling me that horrid nickname.¡±

 Chapter 85: Pieces Without The Puzzle

    Ursula and I share a look. She shrugs as if we didn¡¯t just watch the elemental brutalize the heart.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got yourself a deal. On one condition.¡± Ursula holds out a hand. The elemental doesn¡¯t toss the metal just yet. Seconds go by in this strange stalemate.

    ¡°It is normal to state the conditions after stating that you have conditions.¡± The elemental says.

    ¡°Mmhm.¡± Ursula confirms. ¡°You¡¯re just gonna have to trust that they aren¡¯t too bad. Or are you telling me that you can¡¯t trust us after we¡¯ve been trusting you this entire time?¡±

    The elemental¡¯s core dulls. Inner light shifts to shine on the metal, and she reluctantly slithers over to put the metal in Ursula¡¯s hand.

    ¡°I am trusting you to uphold your part.¡± She states without letting go of the metal. ¡°You will no longer refer to me with nicknames that I do not approve of.¡±

    I grab the metal from the both of them with a roll of my eyes. ¡°This is not the time or the place for this bullshit. And here.¡± I flick a coin at the elemental, who encases it in molten salt as she shies away. ¡°Didn¡¯t even put a spell in that one yet, but I guess that did seem a little hostile. Can you put it in the heart with enough room around it?¡±

    ¡°There is no reason why I could not.¡± The elemental reluctantly says, gently tossing the coin into the air. Salty mists whisk it away, and my awareness stretches all the way into the heart. ¡°For this favor, please do not refer¨C¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, no nicknames. Neither of us will call you anything but ¡®you¡¯ or ¡®the elemental¡¯ from now on.¡± I shoot Ursula a look as I push a spell into the faraway coin. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Mercenary?¡±

    She shrugs and laces her fingers behind her helmet. ¡°A promise is a promise. Crack that puppy open and let¡¯s see what¡¯s hidden inside.¡±

    That¡¯ll have to do, I guess. And I do have to admit that my curiosity is a little stronger than my desire to ensure Ursula¡¯s silence. I sigh through my nose and run my thumb down the side, calling the blade from my knife to swiftly cut through the hinges that hold the thing together. They hold out far longer than the others, but that just means it takes close to a minute for me to rip it open.

    And reveal a pair of small white stone rectangles about the size of playing cards. I frown and hold one of them up to the elemental¡¯s inner light, looking for any kind of markings, but there¡¯s absolutely none. Not even a hint of magic to be seen.

    ¡°The hell?¡± I mutter to myself as Ursula reaches in to grab the other rectangle. ¡°What are we supposed to do with these?¡±

    She studies her own, then shrugs. ¡°Write on ¡®em with the metal spear dipped in ink? Or maybe it¡¯s a backdrop for us to write on the tickets with. Doesn¡¯t matter anyway until we can find the vault.¡±

    ¡°Fleur.¡±

    Ursula and I turn at the same time to face the elemental. She nods ever so slightly and her core burns with molten sincerity.

    ¡°I want to be called Fleur.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ why?¡± Ursula asks.

    The elemental shakes her head just a little while her core flickers as if laughing. ¡°It is French for flower, and there is a method of harvesting salt that produces ¡®fleur du sel¡¯, or salt flowers. In addition, it sounds quite pretty when said in the proper manner.¡±

    Ursula shrugs. ¡°Works for me. Welcome to the world, Fleur.¡±

    When she says ¡®Fleur¡¯, her voice shifts into a slightly different accent. One that flows from letter to letter in a much different¨Cand much smoother¨Cway than Ursula¡¯s normal voice. Was that the system helping her pronounce a name in a different language?

    ¡°Fleur.¡± I whisper to myself. Mine comes out nowhere near as flowy as Ursula¡¯s or the elemental¡¯s. So either the system¡¯s being a dick, or Ursula¡¯s much better with pronunciation than her normal voice lets on. I shake my head and shove the stone into my pack along with the other symbol-things, then lean back and wait for Ursula and Fleur to stop talking.

    When it becomes obvious that isn¡¯t going to happen, I tap on my earpiece to get some info.

    ¡°Architect, any progress on finding the vault? Or any info on the client?¡±

    ¡°No and no. Sorry.¡± March replies immediately. ¡°But there is a room off of this one that has a bunch of stuff in it. Desks and stuff. And corpses. Desks could mean info.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they could¨Ccorpses?¡± I furrow my brow as Ursula and the elemental finally stop yapping. ¡°Did you just try to gloss over a room with corpses? And so we¡¯re on the exact same level here¨Chuman corpses?¡±

    March makes a little noise of confirmation. ¡°Human corpses. Lots of desks, too.¡±

    I don¡¯t know why she¡¯s so obsessed with the desks, but if there¡¯s a room with human corpses on this level, we definitely need to check it out. Ursula taps her helmet twice, pauses, then gestures with two fingers off to her right. Which is my left.

    ¡°You getting the maps in your helmet now?¡± I ask as we move. The elemental¨CI mean, Fleur¨Ccomes along without a single word of question.

    Ursula waggles her hand in a ¡®kind of¡¯ motion. ¡°I¡¯ve got a direct link to Architect. Kind of like screen sharing, but it only sends a snapshot when I activate it. Good for getting my bearings and not much else.¡±

    ¡°Then lead the way, miss has-maps.¡±

    <hr>

    Even with March¡¯s maps, Ursula takes a few minutes to find the correct path. At first I thought it was because she was terrible at reading maps, but when we finally come face-to-face with the ¡®entrance¡¯ I decide to give her a pass.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Like the cave entrance in the waterfall room, this one is somehow both enclosed in the floor and up on a ledge. Ursula has to lean down and brush away a thick layer of grass-like salt to reveal a thin opening, and after a tight squeeze down, we jump up a sheer wall and scramble into an opening that¡¯s barely big enough for Ursula and all her gear to crawl through. I¡¯ve got less stuff than her, so I¡¯m fine, and Fleur¡¯s body just distorts so she can fit.

    And for all of that, what do we get? Why, exactly what March promised us, of course.

    Hundreds of rows of desks, all in perfect shape, spreading out so far into the distance that a salty mist obscures the furthest ones. Each desk has a mummified body sitting at it, all dressed in variations of worker¡¯s uniforms, suits, and casual clothes. An overwhelming aroma of cured meats hits me as I take a step into the strange mausoleum, lit only by salt fixtures on the ceiling that look like a combination of chandeliers and bluebells.

    ¡°Oh, damn, that¡¯s bad.¡± I swallow hard and pull my shirt up over my mouth. ¡°Lucky for you two you can¡¯t smell right now.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Ursula asks with a little too much curiosity. ¡°How bad?¡±

    I swallow hard and mentally compare the disturbing scent to the smell of rotting ghost quarters. One¡¯s so much worse, sure, but this smell is just¡­ wrong. Like the smell of burning human flesh being a little too close to pork.

    ¡°Like I walked into a supermarket deli, stuck my head in the lunchmeat cooler, and took a deep whiff.¡± I mutter, which almost makes Pearl burst out laughing. ¡°But it¡¯s people.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so like smelling burning human.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That.¡±

    Ursula nods to herself and walks straight up to one of the desks, completely unbothered by the dead woman who seems to be¡­ flesh-glued¡­ to the chair. I force myself to look away and instead go for one of the desks with a full-body radiation suit sitting at it, carefully push the poor soul aside, and lean down to get a look at the documents they were sitting over.

    Except¡­ they¡¯re not paper. They¡¯re blackened salt etched into extremely thin sheets of salt. I gently run a finger down one of them, careful not to shatter the fragile writing material, and shudder at the dry sensation that¡¯s exactly like paper. After quickly scanning it to see that there¡¯s nothing useful written on it, I carefully grab the salt-paper and lift it off the desk.

    It comes away in full, and even flops down like a normal piece of paper.

    ¡°Hey, Fleur! Did you¨CAGH!¡± I turn, and Fleur¡¯s face is less than an inch from mine. ¡°Shit, how¡¯d you¡­ my¡­ did you teleport?¡±

    ¡°I merely rebuilt my body at your location. What did you need me for?¡±

    Once my heart stops racing, I gesture at the paper. ¡°Did you make this?¡±

    ¡°I had no hand in this.¡±

    More apocalyptic weirdness, then. But if it''s all salt, then maybe we don¡¯t have to spend so much time pouring over all this shit. I hold out the piece of salt paper for her to take, but she just stares at it. Then at me.

    ¡°Take it. See if you can read it without actually having to read everything on it.¡±

    Ursula perks up from a few desks over. ¡°Hey, good idea!¡±

    ¡°Could be. Might not be.¡±

    I wait for Fleur to take the page. Instead, she looks around the room as the salt mist seems to grow even thicker. Hopefully that means she decided not to bother with the one page I already read, and not that something huge is about to break down the walls.

    ¡°There are three main subjects written about in the papers, each corresponding to a place in the desks.¡± Fleur moves past me to another desk and pulls open its drawer, revealing another set of papers. Except these have pink salt writing. ¡°Those on top of the desks are reports from an unknown party detailing the growth of the krarig. Those in the drawers are less numerous, and detail the work done by an additional party in exploring the krarig. Finally, those stuck to the bottom of the desks detail the efforts of a third party to recover a lost investment of class coins.¡±

    ¡°Three different groups, huh.¡± I lean down under the desk, and sure enough, there¡¯s a piece of salt paper with yellowish salt writing stuck there. ¡°I bet they¡¯re our client, the preservation, and¡­ someone else, I guess.¡±

    The salt paper with yellow writing resists me a little when I try to pull it off. If the first sheet was printer paper, this stuff feels like the extremely thick stuff artists use. I manage to pull it free with careful nudges, but even then, a few letters are lost to whatever kept it stuck to the desk.

    I brush the salt off it as I lean back against a desk and start to read. The first paragraph is pretty simple¨Cthe last bit of some kind of agreement¨Cbut the second paragraph instantly tells me who wrote this. Problem is, I don¡¯t like what it implies.

    ¡°Mercenary.¡± I look over my shoulder and flap the paper at her. ¡°Read this.¡±

    She pops up from under the desk with half a piece of yellow paper in her hands, laughs sheepishly, and tosses it away before grabbing the one I¡¯m offering. Her helmet tilts down as she reads the fairly short page, and her fingers slowly start to dig into the salt.

    ¡°That little bitch.¡± She mutters to herself as the paper crumples in her hands. ¡°This shit¡¯s dated eight months ago and they¡¯re already referring to the resort and the Preservation. How long were they planning this?¡±

    ¡°Eight months at least.¡±

    A paper shuriken whizzes right by my face. I raise my eyebrows at Ursula, more impressed with how quickly she folded the thing than scared with how close it came to giving me a nasty papercut.

    ¡°Smartass. Seriously, though, they had eight months to plan this shit. Which means we could¡¯ve come here much sooner, with the exact same objective, and not had this time limit looming over our damned heads.¡±

    ¡°I know what it means. But you saw how it referred to us. We were their last hope, and the Preservation was their last resort.¡± I glance over my shoulder at the shuriken, which somehow managed to embed itself in a metal panel, and gulp. ¡°If I¡¯m reading between the lines right, then they sent teams in before us. Multiple, if I had to guess. So what the hell happened to them?¡±

    Ursula crosses her arms and leans against the desk behind her. She sighs in thought, then glances over at Fleur. Who¡¯s still just a few inches away from me, and has been listening to everything.

    ¡°How¡¯d they all die?¡±

    My eyes nearly bulge out of my head at Ursula¡¯s overly direct question. But¡­ I mean¡­ I kind of want to know, too. What did they do that we didn¡¯t? Did they get any closer to the vault? Hell, did any of them actually make it out of here alive?

    Fleur¡¯s cores shine blindingly bright for a split second. ¡°The party you refer to as your client has sent thirty-one expedition groups into the krarig. Three were present when it began to shift, and another eight went in while it was in the process of shifting. I hold no memories of what happened to them.¡±

    She pauses for a second, then moves to another desk and pulls a piece of paper from the drawer.

    ¡°From the twelfth group, I recall each and every one of their fates. Seven utterly perished in one way or another. Six partially perished. Five completely escaped after barely exploring. And two are still hiding within, sheltered by their own powers, counting a timer down until they are taken to another world in four and fifteen hours respectively.¡±

    Fleur walks up to me and exactly mirrors how I tried to give her the piece of paper I¡¯d found. With her strange face locked perfectly on mine, I feel pressured to accept her offer in a way she obviously didn¡¯t feel with me. So I do. And when I read through it, I¡¯m met with phrases and names that don¡¯t really make sense at first.

    But as I keep reading, and Fleur keeps handing me new pages, things start to fall into place. An expense sheet for a Russian mine and a complex teleporter array. Ownership rights to this very part of the ocean, save for the tiny bit exactly where the krarig sits. Reports of the salt growth, and how it has both accelerated and slowed down the krarig¡¯s growth. And with the unexpected appearance of an elemental so powerful that the krarig project was deemed too risky to continue with lower ranking members.

    Of the Preservation.

 Chapter 86: Eventualities Collide

    Confused understanding hits me like a rogue wave. The Preservation¡­ made this place. They knew it was dangerous. And instead of destroying it, like someone that actually wanted to preserve humanity would, they tried raising it for some forsaken reason. I¡­ just¡­ wow.

    I knew the Preservation weren¡¯t exactly the saints they tried to pass themselves off as, but this is something else. And they¡¯re on the way here right now. When the krarig¡¯s somewhere between a few hours and a few days from waking up.

    ¡°Fleur. Get all the info here and give it to Mercenary and Architect.¡± I say before my brain can catch up to my resolve. ¡°They¡¯ll make sure all the right parts come to light. Architect, for now, find a use for the things we found with all the symbols on them.¡±

    March makes a strangled little noise in her throat. ¡°Gambler, I know you¡¯re good, but Mercenary¨C¡±

    ¡°Listen to her.¡± Ursula cuts in. ¡°She¡¯s got a good eye for this stuff.¡±

    ¡°Uh, sure! I can do that.¡± March says¡­ eagerly. Like being told that I¡¯m trustworthy makes her happy. ¡°Gambler, can you go back to the waterfall room? I¡¯m seeing some weird things happening to the map, and I¡¯m pretty sure the Preservation haven¡¯t gotten in, but I want to be sure.¡±

    I nod to myself and flick my fingers. My awareness stretches to touch each of the coins I left behind¨Cat the base, in the waterfall room, and in one heart. There¡¯s a few more places I want to leave coins in, but for right now, I¡¯ve got what I need.

    ¡°On my way.¡± I confirm and push relocation into two more coins. ¡°Fleur. When you¡¯re done here, put these coins in each of the hearts and leave them on the ground. And this one, too.¡±

    A third coin appears in my hand, and once again, relocation fills it. I extend it to Fleur before the others, and she accepts it emotionlessly. Relocation accepts her as the target, and I quickly swap out the one coin for the other two. Fleur looks at me for a second, no expression crossing her strange face, and turns to go back to her work.

    ¡°For safety¡¯s sake?¡± Ursula half-asks, half states.

    ¡°Mmhm. Mostly ours, but a little bit not.¡± I toss Ursula a relocation coin. She catches it, then tosses it back a second later. ¡°Good luck. Find some incriminating evidence we can use for blackmail.¡±

    ¡°Ha! You really are a girl after my own heart.¡± She laughs as she waves for me to get going. ¡°Don¡¯t have much time before the Preservation shows up. And when they do, I want you to stall the hell out of them. Lie to ¡®em, lead ¡®em on a wild goose chase; hell, even lead ¡®em in the right direction and Fleur will close up the hole we made. Just make sure they don¡¯t have something to get complete control of this place.¡±

    ¡°Find their contingency plan. Or their plan A, depending on how asshole-ish they are. Gotcha.¡± I salute with two fingers, then focus on the strand of awareness in the waterfall room. ¡°Yell if you need a relocation.¡±

    Ursula repeats my crappy salute, adding a recoil-like head tilt in the opposite direction. ¡°Knock ¡®em dead, Gambler.¡±

    My awareness flares, and the world swaps for a slightly different one. I take a step back from my landing point and kick off into the air, feeling the salty mist coil around me like a warm blanket. It¡¯s¡­ really different than before. Something still feels like it''s watching me, but now it feels familiar.

    Exactly like Fleur.

    I shake my head with a sigh. ¡°She¡¯s way more powerful than she¡¯s letting on. But hey, at least it looks like she¡¯s on our side.¡±

    At least until the Preservation shows up. I¡­ keep that last little bit to myself, but from how my jaw clenches and my brow furrows, someone with a good lock on reading body language would know something¡¯s up. That¡¯s not Fleur. It definitely is Pearl.

    She nods vigorously in agreement, then desperately mimes for me to be careful. I don¡¯t need her to tell me, but it¡¯s nice knowing she¡¯s always looking out for me. Deep rumblings in the air set me on edge. So many possibilities roll through my mind, and absolutely none of them are good.

    ¡°Architect. Point me to the weirdness.¡±

    ¡°Turn to the right thirty degrees and keep walking forward.¡± March says along to the clacking of keys. ¡°There¡¯s been a bunch of weird terraforming happening in that direction.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha. Tell me if something bursts out of the ground.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll see that before I do.¡±

    I chuckle and start walking as thorns whizz by me. They emanate discomfort and pain, but it¡¯s an infinitely weaker aura than before. Whatever Fleur did to lessen them, she¡¯s still doing it now. That¡¯s a point in the ¡®not going to betray us¡¯ column.

    As I walk, I take a moment to survey the landscape. From up here, nothing much has changed. The waterfall¡¯s still disgusting, the forest¡¯s still huge, and the fountain¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ not there. I stare at the flat nothing under where it used to be; no flowers, no salt, just a stretch of rusty metal.

    ¡°Architect?¡±

    A confused, yet cute, hum ricochets around my head. ¡°It¡¯s gone. But it wasn¡¯t all at once. The salt disappeared and reappeared somewhere else in the rig. So that¡¯s how it worked.¡±

    ¡°How what worked?¡±

    ¡°Fleur¡¯s ability. She¡¯s teleporting the salt around, then manipulating it. Not actually making it on the fly. I think she can still do that, but for some reason, teleporting the salt around is less intense than teleporting big bunches of it.¡± March¡­ theorizes, though it sounds a little too confident to be a theory. ¡°I bet she can only do it in the krarig, though. Perfect environment for it and all that.¡±

    Hm. Weird, but sure. ¡°Why the fountain?¡±

    ¡°I dunno. Maybe it was the most flowery.¡±

    That¡­ somehow actually sounds right. Maybe we¡¯re missing a little context, sure, but it seems spot-on. ¡°Is this the only difference?¡±

    Another rumble visibly shakes the ground. March lets out a startled yelp, even though she¡¯s not the one seeing it in person, then lets out a distant ¡®blurgh¡¯ of pain as a fleshy impact thuds through the connection.

    ¡°You alright?¡±

    March groans, and the squeaking of wheels accompanies her voice getting louder. ¡°Yesh, I¡¯m okay. It¡¯s coming. They¡¯re coming.¡±

    ¡°It? They? Is that the same¨C¡±

    A massive apocalypse-twisted monstrosity of metal and salt erupts through a crystal wall. As massive chunks of crystal spin weightlessly through the air, I grimace at the similar features I¡¯d hoped I wouldn¡¯t have to see again. Wheel wells transformed into armor that covered massive limbs. A cabin repurposed into a head. One huge hunk of grease and metal that makes a good enough semblance of a gigantic reptile¡¯s body.

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    And a dump truck bed turned into the thing¡¯s three-horned crest, standing way too tall for the things I¡¯d seen at a museum. It¡¯s almost as long as the rest of the dumpceratops¡¯ body, and it¡¯s so caked in salt crystals that it looks like it¡¯s trying to finish one last delivery.

    Hydraulic fluid and grease spray into the air in equal parts as the salt landscape digs deep into it, and the dumpceratops lets out a bellow that sounds like a mixture of an eighteen-wheeler¡¯s horn and a cacophony of back-up warning beeps. I instinctively take a step back from the apocalypse-touched monster overtaken by salt, completely overwhelmed by its absurd presence.

    ¡°Shit.¡±

    I turn and grit my teeth as I try to formulate any way I can kill this thing. Unlike the dragonjet, it¡¯s built to take a massive beating. And it''s about a hundred times bigger than the vendigator. Projectiles will only take me so far, since there¡¯s no obvious weak points to abuse, and I¡¯m not even sure I¡¯d be able to penetrate its armor.

    ¡°Hey.¡± I say slowly.

    ¡°You think you can do it?¡± March asks.

    The question slaps me across the face. I feel a vein in my neck start to pulse in time to my heartbeat, but after a second, it dies down. Because I know I can¡¯t kill the thing. It¡¯s annoying as hell, and for a moment, something bubbles up in my gut.

    Inadequacy. Not just any inadequacy, either; the kind that comes from someone else pointing out one of my flaws. It feels like when Ursula assumed I couldn''t deal with the vendigator. But¡­ I know March doesn¡¯t mean it like that. Ursula has more firepower than I do. And we¡¯re¡­ a team.

    ¡°...Architect, tell me the truth. Can Ursula kill this thing?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± March says easily. ¡°She¡¯s good at this kind of thing. Anyway, you have to deal with the Preservation. They¡¯re at the helicopter right now.¡±

    I blink in disbelief at the news. ¡°You¡¯re shitting me.¡±

    ¡°Why would I do that?¡±

    Damn it, she¡¯s right. ¡°Okay. Tell Mercenary I¡¯m bringing her here. And that she¡¯lll be in midair when she arrives.¡±

    I flip Ursula¡¯s relocation coin into the air. It spins around three times before I get the okay, and I activate it as I pull the blank mask from my inventory. She takes one look at me, then focuses solely on the dumpceratops.

    ¡°Fleur¡¯s getting all the info together. She¡¯ll send it to Architect when she¡¯s done.¡± She says without turning to me and holds out a hand. I flick another relocation into it, and she flicks it right back. ¡°If it comes down to it, don¡¯t hesitate to kill them all. They¡¯re the dipshits nurturing a krarig, so they deserve whatever comes to them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that as a last resort.¡±

    I raise the mask to my face. Tendrils of awareness reach out and latch onto it, pulling it tight to my face. The world goes black for a second, then starts to¡­ unfurl from riht around me. It feels¨Cand looks¨Clike I¡¯m seeing everything through my awareness. I can see the side of rocks facing away from me, the back of my head, and literally everything in a specific radius around me.

    But not further than that. Even though I know the waterfall¡¯s off in the distance, and I can hear it, it¡¯s not there. Nothing beyond the range of my awareness is. The sensation¡¯s strange as hell, but it¡¯s also¡­ normal. Just another way to see things, I guess, that I¡¯ve never really had to look at until now. I flex my fingers and ¡®watch¡¯ Ursula fiddle with her suit and weapons.

    She¡¯s not worried. And, somehow, neither am I. Pearl gives me a bright smile of confidence with two thumbs-up as I latch onto the coin at home base and let relocation take me.

    Outlines and darkness spill around me, and less than a heartbeat later, my awareness sketches my surroundings into my mind. It¡¯s weird ¡®seeing¡¯ everything without colour, and now that I look closer, it¡¯s really hard to make out writing. And all the screens are perfectly black, even though I know Ursula¡¯s got stuff running on them. The windows, too. However my awareness is helping me see, it apparently can¡¯t help with things that are one uniform texture.

    ¡°Wonder if I can get better at this.¡± I mutter to myself, reaching up to adjust my mask out of anticipation. ¡°Alright. Architect, you think they¡¯ve been tapping our communications?¡±

    ¡°I have no proof that they have, so watch for any context clues. If they haven¡¯t, don¡¯t mention the resort.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°We¡¯re just private contractors hired to get a rich woman her coins. They¡¯re the ¡®good guys¡¯ here. Hopefully they want to keep that image alive.¡±

    Salt stings my arms as I step outside. My ¡®vision¡¯ radius moves with me like a living bubble, revealing what¡¯s in front of me at the same time as it obscures what¡¯s left behind. It¡¯s unsettling not being able to see the Preservation from where I¡¯m standing, but right now, I need to play the part of a shaken employee.

    ¡°Hey! You!¡± A voice, strong and clear, slams into me with tangible force. I turn towards the source, but it¡¯s out of my radius. ¡°You own this gaudy piece of junk?¡±

    Whoever they are, they sound¡­ annoyed. Not angry or desperate, which is exactly what I want.  I take a deep breath and step onto the slope, letting the slick metal carry me down as the swarm of elementals starts to close in.

    As I slide down, some things come into view. The helicopter, for one, but there¡¯s someone standing right next to it. Definitely the source of the voice, but they¡¯ve got a full-face covering helmet on. And a suit of futuristic armor connected to the rest of it, just like those two I saw in the wormhole with the massive mech.

    This one¡­ doesn¡¯t quite look like those two. Not the right body shape, but that doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re not dangerous as hell. I hit the bottom of the ramp and roll into an awkward landing, overplaying my clumsiness by grabbing onto my head and pretending to wince for a good ten seconds.

    The armored Preservationist facepalms and sighs in annoyance. ¡°Great. Just¡­ great. Get over here and explain yourself.¡±

    I hiss through my teeth to play up the pain. They don¡¯t bother moving, and instead, they cross their arms and tap one foot like an impatient teacher. Still haven¡¯t heard another voice join theirs, and nobody else has moved into my bubble. Either they¡¯re alone or they ran ahead of their group.

    ¡°Sorry, sorry, ouch¡­¡± I groan and struggle to my feet, all the while judging their response. I laugh awkwardly and give an apologetic shrug. ¡°My employer didn¡¯t tell me the Preservation was coming. Is the krarig really that close to waking up?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s classified information.¡± They sigh. ¡°Now I¡¯m only going to repeat myself once, and you¡¯re going to answer me truthfully; is this gaudy hunk of junk yours?¡±

    Something like a nip of electricity flicks me in the chest. Mana radiates from the point of impact, and in my awareness, I see myself connected to the mystery figure by an extremely thin thread. Is it a lie detector? A truth spell? Or is it just a weird spell they¡¯re going to use if I stay quiet?

    I hold my hands up in a show of surrender. No point risking it. ¡°My employer hired a bunch of us to come here. Most of us are already dead, and that helicopter belongs to one of them that¡¯s still alive.¡±

    The figure doesn¡¯t make a move. ¡°Who is your employer?¡±

    ¡°The¡­ person who owns the krarig.¡± I say with real confusion. ¡°Isn¡¯t that why you¡¯re here? Didn¡¯t she call you in to deal with it?¡±

    All at once, the armored figure¡¯s entire demeanor changes. ¡°Yeah, of course we are! I just wanted to make sure you were one of the employees, you see.¡± They say so casually it sends a shiver down my spine. ¡°And since we¡¯re all friends here, why don¡¯t you show us how much progress you¡¯ve made? It¡¯ll be such a wonderful help for dealing with this monster.¡±

    Okay, I don¡¯t like this person. Can¡¯t let that come through in any way. I plaster on a smile, even though they can¡¯t see my face, and gesture towards the entrance.

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯d be happy to! You¡¯re one of the higher-ups, right? Is the krarig really that dangerous?¡±

    There¡¯s a slight twitch in the armored figure¡¯s left shoulder. ¡°Yes, I am, and yes, it is. I am Call, a speaker for the Preservation. Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Isla.¡± I say without giving it much thought. ¡°Nice to have you here, mister Call.¡±

    Call huffs under his breath, then turns his head and waves off into the distance. I keep myself from showing my confusion, and a second later, people swarm in. Dozens and dozens of people each wearing the uniform of the Preservation, but no others with the full-body armor that Call has. My mouth goes dry at their numbers; I¡¯d prepared myself to kill one asshole, not slaughter fifty people.

    Then, just as the last few come pouring in, I can¡¯t help but snap my ¡®vision¡¯ to two people who step up at the exact same time. I only saw them twice. But that means they saw me twice. Without the mask, they¡¯d recognize me in an instant.

    Diane and Razi wouldn¡¯t forget my memorable introduction, after all.

 Chapter 87: Masked Misdirection

    Immediately I almost make a huge mistake by going for them. Luckily I catch myself mid-stride so I don¡¯t screw everything up, but it¡¯s still a slightly suspicious movement that causes Call to tense up. I try to brush it off by transitioning into walking in the right direction, but internally I chide myself for being a damn idiot.

    Even if they don¡¯t recognize me with the mask on, it doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t mess this up. I¡¯m a mystery here. That¡¯s my only advantage, and probably the only reason Call hasn¡¯t tried to put me in restraints. If I¡¯m going to buy Ursula and Fleur enough time to enact whatever the rest of the plan is, then I can¡¯t blow my cover.

    ¡°Wow, there sure are a lot of you.¡± I say to try and shift the focus from my screwup. ¡°How many are staying behind to deal with all the elementals climbing the rig?¡±

    ¡°Half of us.¡± Call motions with one hand, and it''s like a wedge is driven between the group. ¡°If you¡¯re in the latter half you¡¯re staying behind. Everyone else is coming down with me.¡±

    ¡°With us, you mean.¡± I put as much false sweetness into my voice as possible.

    Call¡¯s helmet twitches ever so slightly. ¡°Of course, what was I thinking? Us, not we. It matters oh so much when we¡¯re about to put our safety on the line that I use the right pronoun for a throwaway sentence. Who the hell thought hiring you was a good idea?¡±

    I smirk at his annoyance and clasp my hands behind my back. ¡°My boss. You better be nice to me, or I¡¯ll lead you down all the wrong hallways.¡±

    For some reason, all the other Preservation members following us flinch at that. Including Diane, but not Razi, since Call split them up. I wonder if that was on purpose, or if Call even cares enough about his troops to bother thinking about that. He doesn¡¯t seem like the kind to care, but from his body language, he also doesn¡¯t seem pissed that he¡¯s got troops with him.

    ¡®Course, he could just be good at hiding it. I¡¯ve known the guy for all of two minutes and I¡¯m not a psychologist. Hell, why am I even bothering with this shit? The guy¡¯s our enemy, and there¡¯s a ninety-five percent chance they¡¯re raising the krarig for some reason. I need to focus.

    ¡°My¡­ apologies¡­ Isla.¡± Call grinds out, which seems to physically hurt him. ¡°Please, show us what you have found.¡±

    Man, this guy¡¯s insanely easy to read. No way he¡¯s a higher up at the Preservation and this unprofessional¨Cif I wasn¡¯t purposely skewing with him, it¡¯d be really easy to take advantage of him. Actually¡­ why the hell shouldn¡¯t I take advantage of him?

    ¡°No problem! We¡¯re all working together to bring the krarig down, even if I¡¯m here for some class coins on the side. Oh, I just thought of how you can pay me for my services!¡¯

    ¡°Is that so?¡± Call says through what sounds like clenched teeth. ¡°Do tell.¡±

    I giggle, which sounds wrong coming out of my mouth, and wave off Call¡¯s worries. ¡°It¡¯s not like that; I¡¯ve just been out of the loop for a while, and I want to know what happened with the mass evacuation a few weeks back. I came back from the other world, like, three weeks ago and found my home completely empty.¡±

    ¡°Hrm. Let me see if that information¡¯s still classified.¡± Call mutters to himself, then starts pawing at thin air. He must have some kind of display in his armor. ¡°Looks like a news story came out a few weeks ago, so it¡¯s fine to tell you. Apparently the subway company didn¡¯t properly dispose of their old cars; they just abandoned a station and sealed them all in. They turned, reproduced, and now there¡¯s an infestation of subwyrms under the city. The in-progress work is still classified, so you¡¯ll have to be satisfied with that.¡±

    Subwyrms? That doesn¡¯t sound like the right city. Probably should¡¯ve been¡­ wait. No. On the day I found my class coin, the trains were running wrong. One dragonjet wouldn¡¯t cause a city-wide evacuation. But a nest of subwyrms, all tunneling through the ground under buildings and being super dangerous? That¡¯s worth an evacuation.

    ¡°Wait¡­ did you say they reproduced?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Call states quickly. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±

    Pearl nods vigorously, proving that I didn¡¯t hear wrong. But I don¡¯t gain anything from pressing Call further right now. Worst comes to worst, we can kidnap him when this is all over and interrogate him back at the resort.

    I shrug nonchalantly and pretend to accept his answer. ¡°Okay. Well, when I came back, my sister evacuated and left her phone in our house. She hasn¡¯t called me since, and I¡¯m a little worried that she¡¯s hurt. Where¡¯d you relocate all the people to?¡±

    ¡°Classified. But if you give me a name, I¡¯ll make sure she gets a message.¡±

    ¡­Yeah, that¡¯s a little too risky for my liking. No way am I putting Jazz in danger.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t really trust you.¡± I say with a smile in my voice. ¡°I¡¯ve seen what the Preservation does to people they think are too dangerous. And if, someday, you decide that¡¯s me, I don¡¯t want her getting caught up in all this.¡±

    Much to my surprise, Call nods. ¡°I get it. Looks like we¡¯re here; anything we should be worried about in the entrance?¡±

    The giant entrance edged with salt crystals yawns at us from just a few feet away. With my awareness, I can¡¯t see any further than the end of the cafeteria. Beyond that is the hole in the ground and the direction we didn¡¯t go; hopefully it¡¯s long and empty enough for a good wild goose chase.

    ¡°Not really; just more elementals and some weird feelings.¡± I step confidently through the threshold and look around, even though I can already ¡®see¡¯ everything. ¡°Looks like none of the other vending machines turned into vendiators, but be careful. Something could be in the middle of turning.¡±

    Call hurries ahead of me, and his entourage follows. I stay behind for a few seconds, pretending to take in the scenery, and wait for Diane to walk up to me. Just in case the mask doesn¡¯t work for some reason, it¡¯s better to get caught now instead of later.

    Her path carries her right up to me. She glances at me sideways, as if confused why I stopped, and keeps moving. If she recognized me, then she¡¯s a master at hiding it. More likely is that the mask actually works, and that someone I thought was at least an acquaintance is now my enemy.

    None of the other Preservation members catch my eye. Most of them carry weapons, or spell books, or some other thing that blatantly advertises what kind of class they are. Only me and Call don¡¯t wear our classes on our sleeves, which is something I should probably change if I want to pass as an enthusiastic weakling.

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    Actually, scratch that¨CI¡¯ve got a gun on my hip. Hopefully that¡¯s class-agnostic, just like Call¡¯s armor. I speed up a little and take my place next to him once again. For some reason that draws a few gasps from the crowd, but they¡¯re the ones that get bonuses from their Body stat, so they shouldn¡¯t be surprised.

    I hadn¡¯t thought of them as particularly weak, but if this is enough to surprise them, then maybe they are.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go down the big hole¨CI can¡¯t tell if it even has a bottom.¡± I join Call in looking over the railing, then point in the direction we went. ¡°That way used to have a big staircase, but it collapsed when we first went down it. There¡¯s nothing but dead ends down that way, but if you want to go down anyway, you¡¯ll have to find some way to get back up. And get down, I guess.¡±

    Call nods. ¡°And the other exits?¡±

    ¡°We didn¡¯t have enough people to really split up, so we just explored that way. It took us a while to fight through the vendigators, so it was really annoying when we didn¡¯t find much of anything. Oh, unless you¡¯re looking for weird salt plants. There¡¯s plenty of them where we went, just no class coins.¡± I cross my arms, shake my head, and sigh. ¡°Or else we¡¯d be long gone.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Half of you get ready for combat and go down the unexplored path.¡±

    Call looks over his shoulder, pauses for a second, then traces a finger through the air. The group is separated in two once more, but this time, it isn¡¯t just a simple bar in the middle. Some people are pushed to one side, some to the other, but there isn¡¯t any obvious rhyme or reason to the choices. He gestures at everyone on one half of the divide with four fingers spread wide.

    ¡°Keep close communication with each other, and don¡¯t stray beyond comms range. If you hear static instead of voices, regroup. We can¡¯t do anything about the magical storm, but we can do everything we can to minimize its effects. Remember¨CI get a bonus for every one of you that doesn¡¯t die. So don¡¯t.¡±

    I roll my eyes as a wave of excitement floods through the group. That was, quite possibly, the least inspiring speech I¡¯ve ever heard. But hey, whatever gets the motivation sparking.

    ¡°Is the other half coming with us?¡±

    ¡°Nowhere else for them to go, now is there?¡±

    ¡°I guess not.¡±

    With Call and half of the Preservation¡¯s forces hot on my heels, I walk down the exact same path I¡¯d just walked a few days ago. It¡¯s a little nostalgic watching the salt blossoms grow in complexity as we get closer and closer, but then it gets¡­ way more complex. Arches of flowers ring the hallway like a botanical garden, vines and stems interlaced in a lattice of thicker salt crystals that definitely weren¡¯t there before.

    Is this Fleur¡¯s way of saying she¡¯s watching me? Well, if it is, she has a really aesthetic way of doing it. A way I don¡¯t hate at all.

    It doesn''t take long for us to get to the huge room with a clover floor and hanging sunflowers. Quiet oohs and aahs leak out from the group as I lead us onto the rickety metal platform, none of which come from Call. I turn to double-check, and sure enough, Diane¡¯s still with us. Gawking along with all the other Preservation troops.

    Call leans over the railing, his arms resting on the rusty metal, and clicks his tongue. ¡°It looks like you¡¯re right. How did the staircase collapse?¡±

    ¡°Cannonball sunflowers.¡±

    He slowly turns to look at me. ¡°Cannonball sunflowers.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡± I confirm with a nod. ¡°We dealt with them a few days ago, but I don¡¯t know what¡¯ll happen when new people go down there. Watch out for them reloading or something.¡±

    THOOM!

    An echoing explosion rocks the scaffolding under my feet. Panic instantly spreads through the Preservation troops, and though the rumbing aftershocks, Call sighs under his breath and mutters something about being ¡®put in charge of the newbies¡¯. But¡­ I thought the Preservation stopped sending low-level troops. Why show up with over fifty of them now?

    Call claps his hands, and a wave of compulsion washes over me. I brush it away with a quiet sneer, then chide myself for forgetting my cover and turn towards him. Everyone else stops panicking immediately, and they all focus on him with an intensity only magic or intense charisma can manage.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! We¡¯re here to deal with this, but it doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to let any of you get hurt!¡± He lowers his hands, then gestures down at the ground below. ¡°The krarig is waking up. There¡¯s no arguing that. None of you are strong enough to deal with it, but you¡¯re strong enough to defend yourselves while you gather samples. Isla is going to guide me down while all of you find whatever salt formations stand out as strange, interesting, or just plain weird. But if things get really bad, you all have your one-way ticket out of here. I¡¯m authorizing free use of it, with no consequences on return. Stay alive first, get samples second.¡±

    A murmur of disbelief spreads through the group.

    ¡°What did he say?¡±

    ¡°My old speaker never¡­¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s got to be lying.¡±

    All of them don¡¯t seem to believe Call. That¡¯s not a vote of confidence for the higher-ups in the Preservation. But since I know the truth about this¡­ he¡¯s probably trying to avoid a scandal. The Preservation obviously has other plans for the krarig that don¡¯t involve any of the fodder Call brought along with him. Something to do with the salt, for one, and a reason they didn¡¯t just vaporize the krarig the second it became a risk.

    I close my eyes and focus on the coins in my holster. Call is obviously experienced. He¡¯s probably powerful. And if he¡¯s the one leading this, he¡¯s got to know more about why the Preservation¡¯s risking another Greenland situation.

    March¡¯s voice crackles to life as Call continues to pump up his troops. ¡°Gambler, Mercenary is dealing with the dumpceratops and Fleur sealed the floor in the tall room. But the dumpceratops is acting weird; it isn¡¯t just trying to kill her, it seems like it''s looking for something. If she finds out what it is, I¡¯ll report it to you. Good luck.¡±

    While Call and the Preservation are occupied, I lean against the railing and purse my lips. He¡¯s said a few things about destroying the krarig, hasn¡¯t he? Is he actually being serious? Or is that just empty promises to keep the low-level troops thinking they¡¯re doing the right thing?

    I honestly don¡¯t know. The power structure of the Preservation is a complete mystery to me. Speakers could be the top of the top for all I know, or they could just be another branch of their military. But I can¡¯t let it stay that way. When I get back to the resort, I need to learn everything about the Preservation so I¡¯m not stuck here wondering again.

    ¡°You and you. Stay with Isla and make sure she doesn¡¯t go anywhere.¡±

    I blink in surprise as Call points past me. Shouldn¡¯t be surprised, honestly, but he did a damn good job of making it seem like he wanted to work with me. Then I actually look at who he pointed at and wince a little. Of course one of them is Diane, who he couldn¡¯t know I have a connection to, and the other¡¯s a huge guy with a neck as thick as his bulging thighs and beady little eyes that shine with gleeful obedience.

    He¡¯s either a fanboy or a little too happy to be alone with a woman he¡¯s been given orders to keep put. Neither of those options are good for me, and one¡¯s so much worse than the other.

    ¡°Hey, I thought we were in this together.¡±

    ¡°We are. Just not how you think.¡± Call apologizes, though it could easily be fake. ¡°Take her to the main room and make sure she doesn¡¯t go down either of the hallways. Until we contact her employer, do not let her go.¡±

    I can¡¯t help but snort in amusement. ¡°You¡¯re trusting everything I¡¯ve told you up until this point, but letting me go with you is where you draw the line? That¡¯s crazy.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s protocol.¡± Call shrugs and gestures down at the ground far below. Shimmering shapes fill the air, snapping together until there¡¯s a magical staircase leading all the way down. He doesn¡¯t say anything else as he leads the group down his self-made stairway.

    As everyone else leaves, Diane and big neck stay behind. They share a look, then each grab one of my arms and forcefully lead me back into the main room. It¡¯s not exactly how I pictured this would go, but as long as they don¡¯t destroy the floor in the clover room, Fleur and Ursula are free to do whatever they need to.

    I struggle slightly against the pair''s grips, and much to my surprise, Diane''s is so much tighter. The big guy''s almost feels like he''s scared to crush me, but hers is an iron vice. With the two very different hands around my arms, the first inklings of a very stupid plan start to rattle around in my brain. And it all starts with taking a hostage.

 Chapter 88: Hostage Situation

    I look between Diane and the unnamed hulk. One of them has to be more suited to being the hostage. Whoever¡¯s the higher risk of killing their friend to make sure I die has to be the one I hold my knife over, but honestly, I don¡¯t know what the right answer is.

    From our first encounter I would¡¯ve said it¡¯s Diane. She seemed much more skittish than Razi, but the hand around my arm says otherwise. It¡¯s grabbing insanely hard, shoves me around without a single care for my safety, and her nails dig into my skin every now and again. Not all the time, which could be chalked up to nerves¨Cjust short enough to make sure it hurts without leaving permanent marks.

    My gut tells me that she¡¯d slash through the big guy if it meant she could spill my blood. But that¡¯s only half the decision. And I need to make sure I¡¯m not making the choice with incomplete information.

    ¡°So, hey, can you guys ease up a little on the pressure?¡± I ask with as much friendliness as I can put in my voice. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I did wrong here, but if you think I¡¯m lying to you, just wait a few minutes for¨C¡±

    Magic flows into Diane¡¯s hand. I grit my teeth and prepare myself as her fingers crush down on my muscles, squeezing so hard that it¡¯s extremely hard to keep my voice from spilling out. In contrast, the big guy¡¯s grip loosens so much that he¡¯s barely even touching my skin. And his face falls when he sees my hand starting to lose colour.

    He leans behind me and cups his free hand to his mouth. ¡°Diane. You¡¯re squeezing really hard.¡±

    His voice is like a raging waterfall; full of power and vigor as it comes out, but disperses into a thin mist when it finishes crashing down. Low self confidence and some kind of drilled-in inferiority immediately come to mind as the cause, but it could all be an act. Just like Diane¡¯s hardness could all be an act.

    Or the farce she put on back in the other world could¡¯ve been the act, and this is the real Diane.

    ¡°Silence.¡± She hisses, and her nails bite deep into my skin. ¡°Call entrusted this to us. Until he says this woman is safe to be free, she is mine.¡±

    ¡°He assigned both of us to this.¡± The man insists with shaky speech. ¡°What¡¯ll he think if he comes back and she has a broken arm? What if we¡¯re actually working together here, and your hastiness makes him look bad?¡±

    Diane sneers at the man, but it looks like his words hit home. The magic slowly leaves her hand, but her grip doesn¡¯t loosen.

    ¡°Call comes first.¡± She begrudgingly agrees. ¡°Whatever he needs for this to succeed, we have to do. Otherwise we don¡¯t have a chance at moving up.¡±

    The man nods in agreement, but he doesn¡¯t have the same sparkle in his eye that Diane does. Either she¡¯s enamored with Call, the idea of Preservation speakers in general, or she just really wants to move up in the Preservation. That¡­ does give me an angle to work with. One I don¡¯t want to use, since it¡¯d put unnecessary strain on Ursula, but it might be the best option.

    I keep my mouth shut until we¡¯re back in the room with the massive hole in the middle. Diane yanks my arm to force us towards the back wall, and the big guy just lets her do it. Was his show of caring how I¡¯m treated a one-time thing to get Diane to back off? Is that all his bout of courage amounted to?

    A humourless smile creeps up the sides of my mouth. Whatever hangups I had about taking one of these dipshits hostage a minute ago are all gone now. Just have to make sure I¡¯ve got a concrete plan in place for when I put a knife to Diane¡¯s throat.

    She shoves me against a salt growth on the wall. Thorns brush against my shirt and barely poke my back, and I grit my teeth to stifle the pain that¡¯s about to come. Except¡­ it doesn¡¯t. The thorns retract along with my body weight. I¡¯ll have to remember to thank Fleur for still looking out for me.

    ¡°Get the rope.¡± Diane orders the big guy as she rips his hand off my arm. To replace it with her other iron hand. ¡°Tie her at the joints, and if you feel any mana coming off of her, do whatever it takes to break her concentration.¡±

    He shoots me a pathetic glance, then hunches his shoulders and shrugs off his backpack. Diane isn¡¯t that powerful. That¡¯s the feeling I had when I first met her and Razi; fresh-ish recruits still loitering around the safest town in the world because they don¡¯t have the confidence to set off for more dangerous¨Cand rewarding¨Cventures.

    Now it makes sense why. The Preservation probably got them after their first return to Earth, saw that they weren¡¯t really threats, and brought them into the fold. Maybe filled their heads with delusions of grandeur, while at the same time assigning them to watch the tutorial town for anyone dangerous who might come through.

    I tilt my head back just a little¨Cnot enough for Diane to notice, but enough to get the pressure off my neck. All this makes me wonder if they reported me to the Preservation the moment they returned. Were they surprised to find out that I was already wanted? That I¡¯d been taken in by the Resort¡¯s equivalent of the speakers?

    ¡­Did it piss them off?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re being so mean to me.¡± I reiterate directly to Diane¡¯s face, which is inches from my own. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m working for HuSt or the Resort.¡±

    Both of Diane¡¯s hands tighten around my arms. She growls deep in her throat, and if she could see my face through the mask, she would definitely blow up on me. Because I hit the mark one-hundred percent.

    ¡°If you talk again, I¡¯m gagging you.¡± She spits.

    The big guy finally pulls out a length of rope that shimmers with magic. It only appears the second he takes it out of his backpack, so it¡¯s either some kind of spatial pocket or it has cloaking built in. He timidly hands it to Diane without getting any closer, and she clicks her teeth together as she lets go of one of my arms to grab it.

    Now?

    ¡­No. I can get more info out of these two before I take any risks. I hold both my arms out in front of me for Diane to tie up, all the while focusing on the magic of the rope that bites into my skin like poison ivy. A laugh almost bubbles out of me when I recognize the sensation as an infinitely weaker version of Horrendous Purification.

    But I manage to hold out, and Diane ties me up with the skills of an absolute amateur. I test the loops around my wrists just by flexing, and they almost come undone on their own. If she¡¯s going to put her trust in a magic rope to contain convicts, then she should really learn how to tie knots.

    ¡°Happy?¡± I ask flatly as she puts the finishing touches around my ankles. ¡°I can¡¯t run, can¡¯t use mana, and I wasn¡¯t going to do either of those things in the first place. And why¡¯re you doing everything on your own, anyway?¡±

    I nod at the big guy, who flinches away.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t jumbo supposed to help you?¡±

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Diane snaps around to glare at him. He shies away even further. Looks like it¡¯s going to be even easier than I thought to drive a wedge between these two.

    ¡°He isn¡¯t worth the ground he walks on.¡± Diane sneers at jumbo, then takes a threatening step towards him. The guy flinches even harder. ¡°He doesn¡¯t have a good class, he isn¡¯t powerful, and he¡¯s a coward. The only reason he¡¯s here right now is because he¡¯s someone important¡¯s precious little baby.¡±

    She nearly spits those last three words. Jumbo doesn¡¯t say anything in return; he just retreats further into whatever safe space he¡¯s made in his mind. Man, I couldn¡¯t make a better scenario for myself if I tried.

    ¡°What¡¯s his name?¡±

    ¡°Brandon Highroller. Not that that¡¯s his real name; his dad changed his last name when he got promoted to the board. Isn¡¯t it a perfect fit for someone who¡¯s never gambled for anything a day in his life?¡± Diane laughs cruelly and crosses her arms. ¡°I¡¯m his assigned goddamn babysitter. For life. The dipshit took a good look at me a few weeks ago, thought he liked how my face was nice and asian, and tried to take me.¡±

    She laughs again, but this time, I can hear the bitterness in it. And I can see the distant look in her eyes. ¡°His fucking father ordered me to be his concubine. I¡­ I had friends. I had a life. Now I¡¯m stuck obeying some dipshit who can¡¯t even overpower me, and the only goddamn way I can get back to my life is by getting a speaker¡¯s position.¡±

    I¡­ uh¡­ Jesus Christ.

    ¡°Now I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m¡­¡± Diane wipes her eyes and laughs for a third time. It shakes and cracks all the way through. ¡°I¡¯m telling all this to a complete stranger, because you¡¯re the only goddamn person that¡¯s not connected to the board. Razi got punished because he tried to help me, Call almost got demoted when he stuck his neck out, and¡­ and¡­¡±

    The knots on my hands almost fall away. So easily. Too easily. Diane turns to me, her eyes absolutely pleading for help. Her grip from before takes on a different meaning. Call sending me, her, and Brandon here takes on a different meaning.

    Razi¡¯s figure bursts into the edge of my awareness bubble before his voice reaches us. The rest of the pieces fall into place. But they don¡¯t fit into the puzzle I thought I was making.

    ¡°Diane!¡± He cries, and a horde of elementals filters in behind him. ¡°I¡¯m here!¡±

    She wipes her tears and nods confidently. A swift flick of her wrist sends the ropes around me thumping to the ground, and she confidently places herself between me and Brandon. As if¡­ she¡¯ll be protecting me from the person she admitted was weak as hell. Something¡¯s up.

    ¡°You¡­ y-you¡­¡± Brandon stutters as he backpedals and digs through his pack. ¡°When we get back, I¡¯m making daddy take your thoughts away!¡±

    He pulls something free from his backpack. Magic violently erupts from whatever it is, and when it clears, Brandon isn¡¯t there any more. Instead, a nine-foot tall robot that looks strikingly similar to the fakes I fought in the glass tunnels glares down at Diane. She swallows hard and takes a step back, then turns to offer me a shaky smile.

    ¡°Sorry I took my tension out on you. It¡­ wasn¡¯t right. But you just¡­ you remind me of someone I met right before everything went wrong.¡±

    That sends a shiver down my spine. Before I can say anything, the robot¡¯s body blinks with a sickly green¨Cthe same that dripped from the wormhole made by the Preservation¨Cand shudders to life. The difference between this one and the ones in the tunnel is instant, huge, and frustrating. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s the Pearl in me, but the idea of the Preservation using Shellraiser tech makes me want to end them.

    Pearl clenches her little fists. Tiny rivulets of prismatic liquid drop down her face, and I realize why I haven¡¯t seen her doing anything; she¡¯s been holding back. Anger at the Preservation mistreating me, disgust and sadness at Diane¡¯s plight, and now raw, unbridled hatred at the machine about to kill Diane. And Razi right after.

    Or, I can make movements right now.

    I put a steady hand on Diane¡¯s shoulder. She flinches so hard it makes me wince, and I remind myself to be a little more gentle with her in the future. Even if she wasn¡¯t soft with me.

    ¡°Take these.¡± I say calmly and herd her out of the way, slipping two coins with relocation ready to go into her hand. She stares down at them in confusion. ¡°Accept the spell in one of them and give the other to Razi.¡±

    ¡°But you¨C¡± She starts, but finishes with a yelp as the robot brings down two arms with sickly blades at the end. Both aimed only at her. ¡°AHHH!¡±

    ¡°Diane!¡± Razi screams in despair.

    I send a shield there at the speed of awareness. She covers her head with her arms and starts to cry, pleading for her life even as the robot struggles to bring its arms down. Razi runs even harder. Diane slowly uncrosses her arms and looks up at me.

    The robot brings its arms up, tries to look at me, but a flash of colour snaps it back to Diane. Brandon must¡¯ve commanded it to kill her. And, for some reason, it tried to do something else. If I want this to go the way I¡¯m imagining it, I need this thing to think it killed her.

    I snap my fingers at Razi. He almost freezes in place. ¡°Do these things have cameras or microphones?¡±

    He completely ignores me and runs up to hug Diane. She breaks down and hugs him right back, but from where I¡¯m standing, it doesn¡¯t look like either side is putting any romance into it. Not really what I thought was going on, but hey, friendship is magical.

    ¡°Hey. Serious shit going down here.¡± I lean down to get in his face as the robot bashes away at my shield. ¡°That thing. It got cameras, any recording software, or anything that¡¯d report back to the big dipshit if it didn¡¯t manage to kill Diane?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know!¡± He manages to eke out. ¡°We don¡¯t have the authority to even see those things, nevermind knowing how they work.¡±

    Shit, that¡¯s about what I expected. ¡°Well, damn. The thing¡¯s obviously programmed to kill Diane. Guess we¡¯re just going to have to hope that it isn¡¯t recording right now. Fleur! Can you murder this thing and make it look like that horde of elementals did it?¡±

    Thorns of salt erupt from the wall behind me, skewering the robot hundreds of times over until there¡¯s more hole than robot. Its fluid drains from the reservoir, and when the thorns retract, it crumples uselessly to the ground. From where I stand, it looks like the horde did everything they could to make it dead.

    I nod to myself in satisfaction. ¡°Perfect. If they manage to retrieve it, they¡¯ll think it killed Diane and then got mauled by the elementals Brandon saw you leading in. ¡­What¡¯re you looking at?¡±

    Both Diane and Razi stare at me with dumbfounded disbelief. Right; they¡¯re ¡®normal¡¯ for people who got classes. They haven¡¯t seen a shark-wolf worth a billion Worth, or a giant mech tear a hole in reality, or a salt elemental that seems way too overpowered for its restraint. Guess this is their first taste of the reality I¡¯ve been living.

    I pluck the second coin from a very confused Diane¡¯s hand and force it into Razi¡¯s. ¡°Accept the spell, then give me the coin back. You two trust Call? With your lives?¡±

    They both take a second to look at each other, then nod silently.

    ¡°Good. Find some way to contact him without anyone else seeing you, and tell him that he owes me big time.¡± I snatch both Diane¡¯s and Razi¡¯s coins back and squirrel them away with the other primed relocations. ¡°In one week from today, he¡¯s going to meet me near the site of the passenger dragonjet attack without letting anyone else in the Preservation know. Am I understood?¡±

    Diane nods eagerly, a glimmer of hope returning to her eye. Razi watches her, then agrees much less theatrically.

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± He asks, though it''s curiosity that spurs him on, not worry.

    I offer them a smile, even though it''s hidden by my mask. ¡°Saving both of your lives while making the Preservation think the exact opposite. Oh, right, tell Call he has to act like he confirmed both of your deaths. Otherwise it¡¯ll be weird.¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡± Diane instantly agrees. ¡°Thank you!¡±

    I wave a hand at the approaching elementals, and five projectiles easily spring to life. They shear through the horde for a moment, then hang in the air as a deadly barricade between the Preservation¡¯s people and death. Ursula might yell at me for this, but if Razi and Diane are right about Call, we might''ve just gained an inside eye on the Preservation. One that¡¯s pretty damn high up in the hierarchy.

    There¡¯s only one place left to check now. And with relocations aplenty at the ready, now¡¯s the time to see what¡¯s at the bottom of that massive pit.

 Chapter 89: Belly Of The Beast

    ¡°We can¡¯t go back.¡±

    I turn at the sound of Razi¡¯s voice. ¡°No, you can¡¯t. Seems like the Preservation isn¡¯t as amazing as you thought it was, huh?¡±

    He glanced down, ashamed. That¡¯s not the reaction I was expecting, but it¡¯s pretty damn fitting. I wait for Diane to chime in with anything, but from the faraway look in her eye, she¡¯s barely even here right now. Probably worrying about what¡¯s coming next¨CI know I would be.

    ¡°See you two soon-ish.¡±

    I tap the robot with my foot as I walk by. Pearl silently huffs when I don¡¯t repurpose it, but the thing needs to be there for the story. It all falls apart if the bot didn¡¯t get overwhelmed by the elementals after killing Diane and Razi. I¡¯m still reluctant to call them or Call our allies, but that doesn¡¯t matter.

    Because the second I get back to the resort, I¡¯ll have two willing hostages. And a speaker under my thumb who definitely doesn¡¯t want the truth getting out. It¡¯s almost too perfect. Which is why I¡¯ve gotta stay suspicious.

    I lean against the railing and take one last glance back at Diane and Razi. They¡¯re whispering about something, and Razi flinches away like I caught him doing something bad. Diane just smiles and waves.

    Whatever. I¡¯ve got more important things to deal with than whatever they¡¯re planning. My awareness latches onto the relocation coins with me as the target, and I lean over the edge to get a good look at the seemingly infinite depths. Of course I can¡¯t see much of anything thanks to the mask, but from what I remember, I wouldn¡¯t see much of anything anyway.

    Well, no time like the present.

    I vault the railing and feel gravity¡­ struggle. One second the buff keeps me airborne, like there¡¯s salt way down at the bottom of the endless abyss, and the next my stomach lurches as I drop about a foot. Then the salt catches me again and the cycle continues.

    ¡°Some kind of moving floor?¡± I muse as I close my eyes and focus on falling. The sensation of being caught disappears from the cycle, and I plummet.

    It takes all of ten seconds for my awareness to be a mostly empty bubble. Salt growths on the side of the hole appear every now and again, but they disappear just as quickly. I adjust myself so the force blows my shirt into my body instead of up into my face, and focus wholly on my awareness so I don¡¯t slam into wherever the ground ends up being.

    Something shudders.

    Eyes. Tens of thousands of eyes.

    They roll in hollow sockets, then snap to all focus directly on me. For a moment, I feel like I¡¯m drowning in their attention. Then everything turns wet. My breaths come short and desperate for a split second, but Ursula¡¯s mask from so many days ago keeps the wetness from getting into my lungs.

    I drag my fingers through the empty air, fully expecting to feel the resistance of water. But they move through it like normal, muggy air. It¡¯s wrong. It all feels wrong. The eyes glare at me from everywhere. I can¡¯t escape it.

    Metal groans. Salt cracks. Desperation and confusion knife into my brain from the same connection that the thorns did. Fleur¡¯s panicking. Pearl shudders and takes a step back.

    The krarig¡¯s waking up. Right now. And the only thing holding it back is the salt in the hearts.

    ¡°Shit!¡± I hiss and rip the mask off my face. Only the light of the salt clusters hits my eyes, and the rest is just empty metal. I grit my teeth and focus on however far down the ground is as I send the mask into my inventory, then use the salt buff to pull myself down.

    A great force grabs me, and the air begins to scream by. Stutters still happen half of the time, but with the acceleration, they don¡¯t feel as weird. I squeeze my eyes shut as salt stings them to hell and back, holding the buff in my mind as the ground must be getting inevitably closer.

    ¡°Gambler!¡± March cries directly into my ears. ¡°There¡¯s another Preservation signal on the horizon! It¡¯s really far, but approaching super fast!¡±

    ¡°Responding to the krarig actually waking up. Damn it.¡± I flip around so I can open my eyes and stare at all the eyes. My mind tells me they¡¯re not real. Just manifestations of the krarig being acutely aware of me. ¡°Did Call have anything to do with this?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ not¡­ exactly. It¡¯s mostly Mercenary with a little bit of me and Fleur. The dumpceratops was a little too strong. So we kind of magical mini-nuked it.¡±

    Mini¡­ nuke. I¡¯m going to pretend I didn¡¯t hear that. ¡°Well, this means all this is a wash. We getting out of here right now?¡±

    March hums high and long. Somehow, I know that means ¡®no¡¯. ¡°Fleur is keeping the krarig at bay for now. We have about two hours before it folds in on itself and all its insides disappear. That¡¯s when we get out of here.¡±

    Two hours. At least we¡¯ve got a hard time limit now, so I don¡¯t have to keep wondering when everything¡¯s going to shit. March keeps talking in my ear about the fight with the dumpceratops, but ever since she said ¡®magical mini nuke¡¯, I can¡¯t imagine anything but a smoking crater where the monster once was.

    I pull my arms close to my sides and angle myself downwards, putting all thoughts about anything else out of my mind. Nothing else matters but surviving. We can pull out and abandon the mission at any time. But¡­ that¡¯ll consign Fleur to death. Actually, now that the krarig¡¯s waking up, isn¡¯t she completely screwed?

    ¡°Architect¡­ is there anything we can do for Fleur?¡±

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    ¡°Maybe? I can try to recreate the conditions that let her live in an offshore platform a few miles from the resort. The problem with that is somehow getting her¨Cand enough of the salt¨Cthere.¡±

    I nod to myself confidently. ¡°Do that. I¡¯ll make sure everything else works out.¡±

    ¡°Gambler, there¡¯s a good chance she won¡¯t be able to survive without some apocalyptic stuff involved. It¡¯s what made her into¡­ her, after all.¡± March reminds me.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got that covered, too. You just focus on making somewhere big enough for everything.¡±

    Static assaults my ears. I wince and raise my hands to cover them, but since the sound¡¯s coming from the earbuds, it does absolutely nothing.

    ¡°Architect?! Can you hear me?¡± I yell over the sound. Crackling that almost sounds like voices barely makes it through, but they fade out in moments. Leaving me with a horrible sound that, too, fades away the deeper I go.

    ¡°Shelby!¡± Pearl calls as the static dies out. ¡°The salt¡¯s completely blocking the comms, so I can talk again for a little bit!¡±

    A smile creeps across my lips at the sound of her voice. ¡°Missed your sweet sounds, Pearl. Can you feel the bottom of this thing?¡±

    She blows a raspberry and flicks her hand at me. ¡°Easily. You have about ten seconds to slow your fall. Plenty of warning!¡±

    I roll my eyes and focus on the buff, cutting the momentum of my fall instantly. Once more I thank whatever made the buff for spitting in the face of momentum and physics, then stare down into the blackness as I slowly fall chunk by chunk.

    ¡°What the hell¡¯s down here?¡±

    ¡°A lot of molten salt and grease.¡± Pearl happily responds. ¡°It feels like a big sea of the stuff down there. Don¡¯t fall in!¡±

    Don¡¯t really need the advice, but the warning is appreciated. I let the buff fall ever so slightly until I feel something under me with my awareness, even though there¡¯s still no light touching it. Almost makes it seem like putting on the mask would help me see better. So I do.

    Just like before, the scenery spreads out in a strange black outlined world. Two liquids a dozen feet under my slowly churn along, lazily flowing in the same direction at different speeds. I turn my head in the direction they¡¯re going, but wherever the final destination is, I can¡¯t see it in my awareness.

    ¡°It feels like we¡¯re standing above the ocean.¡± I note as I step over a flow of molten salt, keeping myself suspended in the air as I follow the flow. ¡°Wonder where the hell this is in relation to everything else in the krarig.¡±

    ¡°If I had to guess¡­ I¡¯d call it the stomach. Because of all the entrances and exits. Oh, wait, human stomachs only have one entrance and exit. So, um, it¡¯s more like¡­¡±

    As she trails off in thought, I¡¯m left wondering what she means by multiple entrances and exits. I narrow my eyes, for all the good it does, and try to feel how the molten salt and grease are flowing. Sure enough, what initially felt like one solid flow turns out to be a bunch of currents all going in relatively similar directions. Some of them peter out quickly, simply disappearing before my eyes, but most of them carry on.

    I pick a random one and follow it to completion. It only takes half a minute, and then I have to pick another. That one also disappears relatively quickly. Since following them to their ends looks like it¡¯s a complete dead end, I decide to try and follow one in reverse this time.

    With a few kicks, I rise up high enough to afford a few mistakes. Then I choose a random current and follow it backwards. Salt and grease flow in twain for nearly ten minutes upstream. Neither of them give up, both seemingly fighting for supremacy the entire time, and the silence of the strange currently slowly gives way to a quiet roar.

    It takes another few minutes of following the sound to find the source. A waterfall, just like the one in the huge room, cascades grease into the slurry below. Huge chunks of partially molten salt fall down it like icebergs, completely broken down by the violent current under the waterfall and melted by the strange, wet heat. I step around to keep afloat as I watch the waterfall for a few long seconds.

    ¡°Where the hell is it flowing from?¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°I don¡¯t know, sorry.¡±

    ¡°Nah, it was a rhetorical question. Don¡¯t worry.¡± I turn back to face the currents. ¡°We must¡¯ve missed something important. Or this isn¡¯t actually important, and my skill pointed us away from it at the very start.¡±

    ¡°Ooh, maybe this is where you would¡¯ve ended up if you jumped down one of those pipes in the dumptruck room!¡± Pearl eagerly offers. ¡°Just a lot weirder!¡±

    ¡°Could be. Doesn¡¯t change the fact that I have no idea if there¡¯s anything worth wasting time on down here.¡± I stick my hands in my pockets and wrack my brain for any puzzles we didn¡¯t have the answers to. Only the shit the client left for us stands out, but there¡¯s no obvious connection here. ¡°Pearl, if you extend your awareness to its absolute maximum, can you tell me if you see anything even slightly interesting?¡±

    ¡°I already did that. Nothing interesting to note yet.¡± She leans back and laces her fingers together. ¡°Oh, wait. There¡¯s something falling down the waterfall that isn¡¯t pure salt. It¡­ feels like there¡¯s a shard of that elemental¡¯s power in there. Be careful.¡±

    I stand a little straighter and focus on the waterfall. ¡°Point me to it.¡±

    Pearl points unhelpfully up. ¡°You should be able to feel it too when it gets in your range. Have a shield ready.¡±

    ¡°Good call.¡±

    A shield coin flicks into my palm, and I wait impatiently for whatever Pearl felt coming. It takes¡­ way longer than I expect it to. Dozens of seconds tick by, and with every one, a growing sense of unease filters into my gut. There¡¯s no way in hell I missed it. Right?

    Bright, molten light crashes into my awareness. My hand flicks the coin at it before my brain reacts, and a rectangle of power appears under the brightness in the dark of my awareness. I reach up to wipe my eyes, only to feel the cool stone mask that covers my face.

    ¡°Holy hell, that¡¯s bright.¡± I chuckle as I jump up to the object. ¡°Is it blindingly bright for you?¡±

    ¡°Definitely. I think it¡¯s bright enough that you can take off the mask. Oh, um, be a little careful. Fleur might be really desperate to live, so we don¡¯t know what she¡¯ll do.¡±

    I know that. But I¡¯m also curious as hell. My feet pass from thin air to the surface of my shield, and I tear the mask from my face to get a good look at wherever the¨C

    Are you kidding me. There¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s no goddamn way.

    ¡°What the hell Fleur.¡± I shake my head in disbelief as I stare down at the message etched in salt. And the thing encased in the huge, melting block. ¡°You had contingencies, too?¡±

    ¡°Hello, Gambler. I hope this reaches you. I have been hiding this from you since I first sensed you. At first, I did not question why. Now, I both apologize and beg for your help.¡± Her message reads, and I glance down at the next line as it melts in the strange air. ¡°Please. I do not want to die. Whatever you need me to do¨CI will do it. I will worship at your feet like a god. I will help you take over the world. I¡¯m so¡­ scared.¡±

    Inside of the melting salt, under all the flowery words begging me for help, is a safe.

 Chapter 90: Open Sesame

    I wait impatiently for Fleur¡¯s salt-wrapped ¡®present¡¯ to fully reveal itself. The safe¡¯s about what I expected; as tall as me, wide as half my wingspan, and with a cartoonishly huge spinning wheel plastered on it. There¡¯s no obvious place to input a code, or turn a key, or¡­ use the things we found underneath the symbols our client left us.

    ¡°How are we supposed to open this?¡± I mutter as I walk around the safe. ¡°Actually, how¡¯s anyone supposed to open this?¡±

    Pearl¡¯s awareness creeps into my own. I feel it poking and prodding at the safe, like a thousand hands carefully pressing against every surface of the metal, but I don¡¯t feel anything like success.

    ¡°Wow. This is really weird.¡± Pearl huffs adorably. ¡°It¡¯s not that there isn¡¯t a¡­ dial, or something, but there¡¯s literally no openings at all. No hinges, no welds, not even a microscopic little crack where even air can¡¯t get through.¡±

    ¡°The entire thing¡¯s one solid piece of metal?¡±

    She nods.

    That¡¯s¡­ not what I was expecting. I quickly take out all the things we gathered from behind the symbols, and stare at what really looks like a strange writing set in my hands. If there was a scanner or something, I could use these to make a¡­ special ticket to unlock the safe. Or¡­ uh¡­

    Honestly, that¡¯s about the only thing I can come up with. I¡¯ve got a stylus, a ticket, some ink, and a stone. As long as I actually have to use all four of them for the same purpose, then I¡¯m pretty damn sure my imagination¡¯s already done all the work there is.

    ¡°Maybe I can just¡­ ignore all this?¡± I place a hand on the safe and try to connect a relocation coin to it. A blaring warning telling me that I don¡¯t own the thing kills that hope. ¡°Damn system and its restrictions. Pearl, you got any ideas?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ maybe try touching all the things to the safe? Just in case they do something weird. It, um, couldn¡¯t hurt, right?¡±

    ¡°Probably not, yeah.¡±

    I take the ticket between two fingers and press it to the safe. There¡¯s absolutely no reaction. Then I go to the stylus, followed by the ink. Neither the bottle or the stylus do anything, so I open the ink and carefully dip the tip of the stylus into it. It hisses, like a hot pot under cold water, and thin fumes waft up from the glass. I lean back just in case and press the ink-coated stylus to the metal.

    Nothing.

    Which leaves nothing but the stone. I close the bottle and flick the stylus off to the right to clean it, then push the stone against the safe. Before I can get close enough to touch it, the stone rips clean out of my fingers and thunks against the metal. Like a magnet. Except¡­ I¡¯m pretty damn sure it touched metal before.

    ¡°Pearl¡­ is this metal weird?¡± I ask slowly.

    ¡°I think it is.¡± She confirms just as slowly. ¡°Because that stone isn¡¯t magnetic at all. There was a really tiny flash of magic when it happened, but even I barely saw it. No way you did. ¡­Um, I didn¡¯t mean it to sound like that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±

    Even if I was hurt by her choice of words, I¡¯m way too focused on the safe to bother caring. The stone snaps to the metal. Which leaves me with ink, a stylus, and a ticket. Like the safe is screaming at me to write the right thing and press it against the stone. But¡­ what the hell am I supposed to write?

    ¡°Five, two, three, six, four, eight.¡±

    I frown at Pearl¡¯s random listing of numbers. They seem¡­ really familiar, for some reason. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°Five, two, three, six, four, eight. Maybe not in that order, but¡­ yeah.¡± She gestures at the things in my hands. ¡°Those are all the weird numbers that were in the symbols.¡±

    I blink in surprise. It takes a second for me to wrack my brain to get at those memories, but yeah¨Cthere they are, plain as day. A five legged snake with two tongues, a goat with three wings and six eyes, a cross made out of four old-timey keys, and a skull with an eight sided angular pattern on its forehead. 5,2,3,6,4,8. Now that sounds like a code to me.

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    ¡°Good call, Pearl.¡± I grin and dip the stylus in the ink. ¡°Let¡¯s hope it works.¡±

    After quickly scribbling the numbers onto the ticket, I press it against the stone stuck against the safe. The ink crackles and fizzes when sandwiched between the frozen ticket and the stone, loud enough that I almost flinch away in surprise. Then the safe clicked. Loudly. Once, twice, three more times in quick succession, and then one final time.

    The ticket in my hand crumbles to dust. Half of the ink evaporates, and the stylus splinters into a thousand pieces. As the stone on the metal, too, starts to crack and fall away, I watch as something underneath it is revealed. A very small hole¨Cjust big enough for a Class Card to fit into.

    I stare at it for a few seconds. No way in hell am I risking my Class Card to something this shady. But now that there¡¯s a little opening, Pearl should be able to see inside.

    ¡°Pearl.¡±

    She nods and leans forward. ¡°On it. There¡¯s a complex scanner in here, probably for Class Cards, and it¡¯s connected to a motherboard inside the metal. If you can get a coin in there just right, and destroy the entire system, you should be able to force it to open.¡±

    ¡°What if it just destroys everything, and now we¡¯ve got no idea how to get in there?¡±

    ¡°Then I can squeeze in, grab a bunch of Class Coins, and you can relocate me back out.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as Pearl sighs.

    ¡°Or I can just do that right now and not risk anything. You don¡¯t have to say it.¡±

    She squeezes out of her shell for the first time in what feels like forever, smiles warmly at me, and hops down my arm. When she reaches the safe she doesn¡¯t bother stopping, and simply squishes into the slot in a way only a slime-like creature can. Quiet little grunts of effort grow distant as she works her way in, and then they pause.

    ¡°Gambler, you¨C¡±

    I press a relocation coin to the slot. ¡°I know I forgot.¡±

    She giggles, and I feel the coin connect to her. Then she goes right back to crawling through the safe, her awareness leading her towards our treasure trove of insanely valuable goodies. The client only wants two, but hey¡­ this place is going to hell in a few hours anyway, so the rest of them would just be lost.

    I¡¯ll find way better uses for them.

    ¡°Okay, I found them!¡± Pearl¡¯s voice echoes from inside the safe. ¡°But it¡¯s¡­ weird in here. There¡¯s only five coins, and the rest of the stuff is just gemstones and paperwork. Do you want that, too?¡±

    ¡°Clean it out.¡±

    ¡°Okay! I¡¯m ready!¡±

    I take a half step back, press my arms together to make a bed, and let the relocation coin roll down between them. When it reaches the middle of my forearms I activate the spell. It hurts like hell. After a moment, Pearl appears in my arms with five Class Coins floating in her body.

    And nothing else.

    ¡°Oh, right, the restrictions.¡± She laughs awkwardly and shifts her body, stacking the coins and placing them in my left hand. ¡°Good thing I copied all the documents in there. Too bad about the gemstones, though.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you¡­¡±

    Pearl pats her stomach proudly. ¡°I can read with all my body, not just my eyes. That¡¯s why we put almost everything on glass¨Ceasier to feel the tiny scratches in it than ink. But I¡¯m really good at reading. Want to hear what everything said?¡±

    I quietly stare at the Class Coins during all of Pearl¡¯s explanation. The defender coin is instantly familiar, and one has a wide-open eye that¡¯s probably the psychic. But I can¡¯t make heads or tails of the other three. Something¡¯s¡­ wrong with them. One of them has a hole in the middle, another looks like someone snipped a chunk off it with garden shears, and the third is bend in half at a ninety degree angle.

    And none of them have etchings on either side. They¡¯re completely and utterly blank.

    Class Coin: ¡ª.

    Primary Stats: ¡ª.

    Ownership Status: ¡ª.

    This Class Coin has been tampered with.

    All abilities removed.

    ¡°You can tamper with Class Coins?¡±

    Pearl nudges me with a tiny hand. ¡°You already did that.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ yeah¡­ but I did it with a skill. This looks like someone destroyed these with brute force. Is that possible?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡­Then how the hell did it happen? I stuff the rest of the supplies and the Class Coins into my pack, then look out over the flow of salt and grease. There isn¡¯t really a huge difference between destroying a Class Coin and squirreling it away, so there¡¯s no way that was the purpose of whoever did this. It¡¯s gotta be something else.

    The thought of altering a coin to be a different class briefly crosses my mind. This could be research on that. Definitely. And with the documents Pearl has in her mind, hopefully we¡¯ll shed some light on the purpose of the destroyed coins.

    But that can wait two hours. The krarig can¡¯t.

 Chapter 91: Heart Attack

    With a brief flicker of focus, I latch onto the sensations around me. All the salt is flowing somewhere¨Cand draining into somewhere else. Multiple somewhere elses, actually, if the different stopping points are to be believed. I need to get out of here and¡­ huh.

    There¡¯s¡­ only one thing left to do here. Pearl¡¯s got the documents from the safe, Fleur¡¯s got the documents from the room with way too many desks, and March has the info from our base. I¡¯ve got the coins we were called for¨Ceven though the client made it seem like there¡¯d be way more in the safe. All that¡¯s left to do is try and save Fleur.

    ¡°Pearl, time to go back.¡± I take off my mask and let it rest under my arm. ¡°Talk to you again in a little over two hours.¡±

    She nods excitedly. ¡°Sounds good! Good luck getting Fleur out of here somehow!¡±

    Yeah. I¡¯ve got a plan, but it relies on a whole lot of assumptions. One¨Cthat March can recreate the conditions for Fleur to live. Two¨Cthat a coin I left behind a long time ago is still there. And three¨Cthat my skill isn¡¯t going to have any limitations that I only find out about when I finally try super long-distance relocation.

    Oh, and four¨Cthat Noland¡¯s going to be willing to break a Preservation rule again. But that one doesn¡¯t even feel like a variable¨Cit¡¯s as close to a guarantee as I can imagine.

    I roll my shoulder and stare down the waterfall of grease. None of my relocation coins are in a perfect spot for this. The one in the heart could be¡­ fine, I guess¡­ but if the krarig¡¯s close to awake, I don¡¯t have a guarantee that the inside¡¯s still the same. So if I want to get out of here, I need to bring in someone who can help me. Easy enough.

    Fleur¡¯s relocation flares in my mind. With a single thought I drag her to me, and I flick out her coin right before their places swap. Her crystalline form blinks into existence in thin air, but with her tail covering so much ground, she always has enough salt under her to stay airborne.

    Her core glimmers brightly for a moment. She barely moves to look around, and when I feel her attention on me, her core noticeably dims. Then she sees the safe, and it almost goes completely dark.

    ¡°...I apologize for keeping it from you.¡± She says quietly.

    With a wave of her hand, I dismiss her guilt. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with that when you¡¯ve got more than two hours to live. What¡¯s the situation look like?¡±

    ¡°It is not ideal, but we have it handled. Mercenary used weaponry she claimed was ¡®illegal¡¯ to destroy the apocalypse-touched monster, and I have finished cataloging all the information from the room you left me with. If it was not for the Preservation and my¡­ imminent demise¡­ you would be able to leave without regrets.¡±

    I offer her a small, sympathetic smile. ¡°I¡¯m not going to let you die, Fleur. You promised you¡¯d treat me like a god, remember? I¡¯m holding you to that once you¡¯re safe, happy, and not even thinking about dying.¡±

    Her core flickers ever so slightly. ¡°If you can do that, I will gladly worship you.¡±

    ¡°Then get your praying hands ready, because plan ¡®Heart Transplant¡¯ is about to begin.¡± I say with a much less confident smile. ¡°It starts in one of two ways¨Ceither you tell me the heart with the relocation coin in it is completely safe to teleport to, or you find us another way out of wherever the hell we are. Oh, and did you touch the relocation coins to the hearts like I asked you to?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I did.¡±

    ¡°Perfect.¡± I extend a hand, palm-up, to her. ¡°Give ¡®em here.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t move. Her core glows bright¡­ but in a different way. The way it projects its light through Fleur almost makes it look like she¡¯s blushing. And from the way she isn¡¯t reaching into her body to give me my coins¡­

    I hiss through my teeth as I replay exactly what I asked her to do. ¡°Shit, I told you to touch them to the hearts, and nothing more, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Yes, you did.¡± Fleur replies, but it¡¯s much quieter.

    Motherf¨Cokay, no, this isn¡¯t game over. Fleur¡¯s still got salt in the hearts. She can deliver it to me the same way she delivered the safe. I take another coin and push relocation into it, then tap it against Fleur¡¯s arm. She accepts being targeted the second it touches her, and I stuff it away for later.

    ¡°The heart. Can I safely relocate there now?¡±

    Fleur barely shakes her head. ¡°It no longer has a way out. My salt continues to hold it at bay, but if you relocate inside, you will be completely sealed in.¡±

    ¡°Then that¡¯ll just have to be stop number one.¡± I mutter as I prepare a me-targeted relocation. ¡°Take this and find a way out of here. Get to the surface if you can¨Cpreferably our base camp¨Cbut only if you can do it without anyone from the Preservation seeing you. Otherwise, just go find Mercenary again.¡±

    I flick her my coin, and she deftly snatches it out of the air. It easily sinks into her body, and without waiting for another word, she lets herself plummet to the sea of grease and salt below. Her glowing core slowly dims as she gets further and further away, until all that remains is a luminescent speck in the distance. Moments later that, too, disappears under the grease.

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    Meaning it''s my turn. I focus on the relocation coin with a ready sigh, ready two shield coins in my holster, and relocate myself to the heart.

    My feet slam against unstable metal that shifts and churns like an angry sea, and I instantly raise the mask to my face to help me ¡®see¡¯. Awareness spreads over the heart like a lantern¡¯s glow, and with the darkness forcing me to be truly aware, I can see just how messed up the heart has become.

    The entire place¨Cmetal, salt, wiring and all¨Cbeats and pulses like a hunk of muscle. Lukewarm grease flows around my ankles like the first warnings of a slowly sinking ship, pushed in from the panels Fleur had salted up and draining into¡­ into¡­

    I can¡¯t see where it drains out. So maybe it isn¡¯t. Maybe this entire place will be flooded in two hours, and when it is, the krarig will have won. Fleur dies, it wakes up, and the Preservation completes their goal.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like that changes the time limit.¡± I sigh and look around. The heart isn¡¯t rhythmic at all¨Cit¡¯s chaotic, discordant, and random. ¡°So it''s still struggling against Fleur¡¯s salt. Shit. Hopefully that doesn''t mean I can¡¯t target it.¡±

    I slosh my way through the blood-grease until my hand rests against a wall. It¡¯s warmer to the touch than before, and even though the metal pulses like a living thing, it feels just as solid as before. Another relocation coin appears between my fingers. I breathe in through my nose, preparing myself for whatever the cost¡¯s going to be.

    It¡¯s the first time I¡¯m doing this without getting permission from something. All I can do is hope to hell that I have enough Worth left.

    Coinbound Relocation Activated

    Target: Salted Krarig Heart.

    Cost: 4000 Worth.

    Cost Reduced by 96% due to permission from ¡®Fleur¡¯.

    ¡­

    Cost Reduced by 95.9% due to permission from ¡®Fleur¡¯.

    Steep. But thanks to all the vendigators I killed, I can afford it. Even if I have to pay the same amount for the other two hearts. Fleur¡¯s permission is shouldering by far the most of the cost, so she¡¯s still mostly in control here¡­ and¡­ I guess this means the salt¡¯s actually a vital part of her. Enough that it counts as her for permission, at least. I pocket the coin and turn away, trying to put that countdown out of my mind. If it goes low enough, using these relocations is going to put me into debt.

    Even if Pearl can vouch for me again, that¡¯s not a cost I want to eat.

    ¡°Architect.¡±

    ¡°Agh!¡± March yelps, then noise comes through that sounds eerily similar to someone falling out of their chair. ¡°You¡¯re back! Oh, thank goodness! Mercenary nuked the dumpceratops, and the other chunk of Preservation people are coming up on us dangerously fast. Then Fleur just disappeared, which I now realize was probably you, and¡­ nope, nope, I¡¯m rambling. Focus, Architect.¡±

    A quick smacking noise echoes in my ears. ¡°We need to find the Class Coins. Then we can get ouf of here.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah, I got ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°...Huh?¡±

    ¡°Yup. Fleur was holding out on us, and she waited until I was somewhere we couldn¡¯t talk before she sent the safe down on me with a message begging for her life.¡± I scrunch my nose as I talk. It sounds a lot worse when I repeat it. ¡°So, uh, now I¡¯m just waiting for her to show up somewhere safe. Then we can leave.¡±

    March doesn¡¯t say anything. She must be surprised that I found the coins.

    ¡°Architect?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m looking at something.¡± She mutters. ¡°The Preservation people they sent the first time are an exploration group. Call is listed here as an ¡®otherworld guide¡¯, and everyone else are just low level members. Not important enough to have titles, even.¡±

    I frown and lean against the wall to steady myself. ¡°What does that have to do with anything we were just talking about?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. I was doing it before you randomly showed up.¡± March replies tensely. ¡°This other group isn¡¯t peaceful. They¡¯ve got two speakers¨CShout and Scream¨Cand a dozen random people who specialize in dangerous target elimination. But¡­ why would they send them out?¡±

    ¡°Because they want to kill the krarig?¡± I offer, but even as it leaves my lips, it doesn¡¯t sound completely right.

    ¡°That¡¯s definitely the reason for Shout and Scream¡¯s group, but I¡¯m not talking about them. I¡¯m talking about Call¡¯s group.¡± March¡¯s chair squeaks, and her voice grows quieter, like she¡¯s backed away from the mic. ¡°If they knew the krarig was waking up, then there''s no point sending a research group. Even in the reports Fleur read, it said the Preservation stopped sending low level people. So why is Call¡¯s group even here in the first place?¡±

    A frown crosses my lips as I remember what Diane said. My initial thought is that they were sent here to die. Diane for trying to fight back against Brandon and Call for trying to speak out against someone even higher up than him for a blatand and disgusting misuse of authority. But that doesn¡¯t feel right. There were almost fifty other people with them. And unless the Preservation had reason to disappear all of them, it didn¡¯t make sense.

    After all, the Preservation could¡¯ve just sent Call, Diane, and Razi here. In the eye of the public, it¡¯s just an abandoned oil rig. Nothing worth sending that many people for.

    ¡°We¡¯ll just have to ask the person himself in a few days.¡± I say to remind March of my deal with Diane, just in case she¡¯d somehow forgotten in twenty minutes. ¡°And speaking of, how¡¯s the platform coming along? I might need it sooner than later.¡±

    She hums in frustration. ¡°I¡¯m arguing with the non-Worth council right now, and they¡¯re just arguing about the beauty of the skyline. It¡¯s really annoying, but Banker says we have to keep up appearances with them. Even if all they care about is that the beach looks good.¡±

    ¡°Screw them.¡±

    ¡°Okay! Now it¡¯s both of our faults!¡± March says excitedly. ¡°Back me up when you get back, please. Then Banker won¡¯t have a choice but to take our side.¡±

    I¡¯m not really sure that¡¯s how it works. But if it gets Fleur¡¯s platform made, then I don¡¯t care.

    The metal against my shoulder throbs hard. I stumble forward and wince, then turn on my heel to stare at the heart¡¯s innards. Paneling strains at the welded seams with the increased violence, and a few welds simply burst under the strain to reveal wires, metal, and a shit ton of salt further in. Like, a shit ton of salt. Ninety-five percent worth.

    But with every beat, the salt struggles. It¡¯s battered and assaulted from all angles by the heart¡¯s destructive birth, and I can imagine Fleur¡¯s hold slowly withering away. And with every little bit of ground she loses, the greater the chance I have to end up in debt to enact my plan.

    ¡°Fleur, if you¡¯re safe, give me a sign.¡± I call into thin air. ¡°We need to move fast.¡±

    A thin lance of salt, like a rose¡¯s thorn stretched to a hundred times its normal length, shot right across my cheek. I wince at the pain of salt in my wound, but I don¡¯t have the time to be annoyed with Fleur¡¯s choice of messaging. For the second time in quick succession, I steady myself in preparation for relocation.

    ¡°Just two more hearts to go, Fleur. Then we¡¯ll all get the hell out of here.¡±

 Chapter 92: Pre-Flight Checks

    Relocation flares. The heart around me bleeds away, and I find myself standing in an unfamiliar place. There¡¯s salt everywhere¨Cthe ceiling, the floor, the walls¨Cbut it looks weird. Instead of the complex crystalline structure I know Fleur is capable of making, this is more like someone blew up a hundred boxes of table salt in a very small room. Fleur shifts slightly, making more space for me, and reaches out a hand.

    In her palm are two coins. My two coins.

    ¡°The coins you asked for.¡±

    I accept the pair with a nod. A quick glance at them confirms they¡¯ve got the same cost as the other, and I stuff them away with the first. Pearl almost squeals in excitement, but catches herself just before a noise can come out.

    ¡°Thanks, Fleur. And, uh, where are we?¡±

    Fleur slowly looks around. ¡°This is where I first remember. A small room, piled high with salt, and straining with magic. There is absolutely nothing special about it. I was simply¡­ lucky that I adapted to the apocalypse.¡±

    ¡°Hey, luck¡¯s the best thing you can have on your side.¡± I offer her a smile and look past her to the small opening behind her. ¡°You can train or learn pretty much everything else, but luck probably plays the biggest part in your life.¡±

    I can feel Pearl starting to frown before I see it. And¡­ it looks like Fleur¡¯s frowning, too. Guess I¡¯m the one that needs to clarify this time.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean the hokey version of ¡®luck¡¯ people parade around. Like¡­ someone being guaranteed to win a contest or always have the best things possible happen to them.¡± I start to say, then realize how it must sound coming from a woman with a skill that kind of makes that happen. ¡°What I really mean is¡­ like¡­ your circumstances. When you¡¯re young, you don¡¯t have any control over them. Then when you get older, you sort of start being able to make your own luck. See what I¡¯m saying?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Sort of, but you¡¯re doing a pretty bad job explaining it.¡± March chimes in. ¡°You¡¯re also doing a bad job stalling since you¡¯re obviously worried about whatever you¡¯re about to do. We¡¯re on a tight time limit, remember?¡±

    ¡­Is it really that obvious? Hell, I barely feel it myself, but if March could sense it through a botched explanation, then it¡¯s probably pretty bad. And she¡¯s right¨Cwe are on a relatively tight time limit. Especially if things go wrong.

    ¡°You''re right.¡± I sigh, and though my voice doesn¡¯t shake, I feel a chunk of anxiety begin to weigh down my stomach. ¡°I¡¯ll have to give Fleur a better explanation when she¡¯s safe.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the important part.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know that, too.¡± I chuckle and brush past Fleur, bending down to fit through the hole. ¡°Fleur, how far until we¡¯re at the surface? If your salt messes with my skills, then the magical storm around this place definitely will too.¡±

    ¡°We are barely fifteen feet from the surface.¡± Fleur¡¯s core brightens right over my shoulder as her body distorts to fit beside me in the small tunnel. ¡°Though you may find it difficult to reach your true destination.¡±

    Difficult to¡­ what? If we¡¯re almost at the surface, this should be easy as hell. I pack her strange warning away as I pull myself through the tunnel¨Cdefinitely more than fifteen feet worth¨Cand narrow my eyes as a bright light filters through dozens of increasingly complex salt formations. Until, finally, the tunnel opens up to the surface of the krarig.

    On a support beam halfway between the main platform and the jagged waves of the ocean below. A startled grunt escapes my lips as I grab at a thick salt vine to steady myself, the thorns which would have hurt my hand retracting into the salt before they can prick my skin. The roar of the waves scrapes against my ears, and I can¡¯t help but wonder how the hell didn¡¯t hear it up until literally right now.

    I didn¡¯t hear March flinch away, but I have no doubt she¡¯s turned me almost all the way down now.

    ¡°Did you soundproof the damn hole?!¡± I nearly scream to be heard over the crashing waves. ¡°Why?!¡±

    Fleur¡¯s body extracts itself all around me, and she reforms herself clinging to the salt encrusting the side of the krarig. ¡°I thought you would be asking me why I did not simply reach the platform and then contact you.¡±

    ¡°That too! Explain!¡±

    ¡°The explanation is simple. I¡­ I¡­¡± Fleur pauses as her cores flicker. ¡°This is strange. I know that I have an explanation, but I cannot seem to verbalize it. How peculiar. No matter¨Cit is probably pointless sentimentalism.¡±

    She seems¡­ conflicted as she speaks. Not like she¡¯s deciding whether to tell me her reasoning, but like she doesn¡¯t quite understand her own reasoning. ¡®Pointless sentimentalism¡¯, she calls it. I¡¯m pretty damn sure she just wanted to show me the first thing she remembers. Now that I think about it¡­ she¡¯s been getting a lot easier to talk to over the last few hours. Is that because she¡¯s evolving, or just getting used to communicating with words?

    I shake my head and smack my cheeks. No. I¡¯m letting myself get sidetracked again. Gotta focus on the thing I¡¯m terrified about doing. My hand grabs for a chunk of salt that looks like it¡¯ll hold my weight, and an inner warmth that reminds me of Fleur improves that confidence a hundredfold. I test it one more time just in case, reach my foot for another hold, and start to climb.

    Fleur slithers right up alongside me. ¡°Can you not use a spell for this instead?¡±

    ¡°¡­Dammit, am I really this scared of relocating things so far?¡± I laugh and create a shield coin, then flick it under my feet. It explodes into motion, and I let it carry me upwards. ¡°Fleur, if I fail at this, things get way more complicated. I don¡¯t know if we¡¯ve got the tech to keep you alive for a multiple hour long helicopter ride, especially not if the krarig and/or the Preservation decide they don¡¯t want us flying free.¡±

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    As the salt air stings my skin, I watch the krarig platform get ever closer. Elementals reach out and try to attack me every now and again, but Fleur takes care of them before I can even think of wasting some Worth. Makes me wonder why she didn¡¯t just make me a platform to bring me up.

    Less than two minutes pass. My eyes just barely reach over the edge of the platform, and I scan the area for some information. Preservation members and salt elementals are deadlocked in a constant battle for survival. The elementals seem to have an endless flow of bodies to throw at the superior skills and firepower of the Preservation, but even with my untrained eye, I can see that they¡¯re starting to falter.

    Medics pull people away and tend to them in shimmering circles of magic. Defensive spells keep the elemental horde from overwhelming the Preservation, but from how the spellcasters shake, they¡¯re running low on¡­ something. I don¡¯t really know how mana works, so maybe using too much of it makes you weak and queasy. It¡¯s consistent with what I¡¯m watching, so I¡¯ll go with that for now.

    What the Preservation¡¯s lacking, however, is offense. Even with shakiness their defences are holding, but all their attackers seem to be¡­ how do I put this kindly¡­ sucky? One guy throws fireballs that barely melt the elemental¡¯s surface, another channels some kind of power through the ground that might be annoying the elementals, and more than a few brandish traditional weapons. There¡¯s even some guns among the group, but the bullets there barely scratch the elementals.

    Makes me appreciate Ursula¡¯s firepower even more. But what it confirms for me is the validity of the documents from the desk room¨Cthat the Preservation actually stopped sending in low-level recruits because they couldn¡¯t do anything. Yet these¡­ these are people with classes. With stats better than mine. Their spells should hit harder, their stamina should be greater, and¡­ hell, they¡¯ve actually got mana to work with. Not the Worth I¡¯m stuck using.

    Watching them fight and struggle against things I so easily blew away¡­ I¡¯ve got to admit, it¡¯s a little cathartic. But before I can get too invested, Fleur gently taps me on the shoulder. I breathe out a sigh and pull myself the rest of the way up, then lock onto the helicopter.

    ¡°I know, I know, can¡¯t get sidetracked. Architect, can you put me through to Mercenary?¡±

    ¡°Can do. Connection in three, two, one.¡±

    Heavy breaths invade my ears the moment she finishes her countdown. ¡°Gambler! You all good? I¡¯m good here!¡±

    ¡°Good to know. Weird question, but if I take the helicopter, do you have any way out of here?¡±

    Ursula¡¯s breaths come a little heavier. What the hell¡¯s making her exert like this? She swallows dryly, then sucks air through her teeth as something explodes in the background.

    ¡°M¡­Mercenary? What the hell are you fighting?¡±

    ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got two enemies here, so even if you flip a coin you¡¯ve got a fifty percent chance of being right.¡± She sarcastically quips. ¡°If you¡¯ve gotta know, I went straight from nuking a dinosaur dump truck to trying to stall the Preservation that ain¡¯t here yet. I¡­ wait, I¡¯ve got an idea. You got Fleur with you?¡±

    I glance over at the eager elemental. ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°You got a plan to bring her with us?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. Go destroy the basecamp, then Architect¡¯ll give you directions so you can fly out and pick me up. It¡¯s gonna be a bumpy-ass ride, so tell Fleur to sit tight for¡­ say¡­ an hour. Then you can do whatever it is you¡¯re gonna do.¡±

    Destroy the basecamp? I glance up at the place we¡¯ve been calling home for almost a week now, but my awareness doesn¡¯t reach it from where I¡¯m standing. All the research salt¡¯s still in there¨Cincluding the vendigator¨Cand it just seems like such a waste.

    ¡°I¡¯m not destroying everything. Can you hold out for five minutes?¡±

    Another ringing explosion nearly deafens me. But.. it doesn¡¯t just come from my earpieces. It also comes from somewhere off over the waters. Beyond the magical storm, but if I had to guess, that won¡¯t be the case for long.

    ¡°Five minutes! Go!¡±

    With Ursula¡¯s hollered confirmation ringing in my ears, I sprint towards the basecamp. With shields and Fleur helping me out it only takes two minutes to get up there and gather everything Fleur couldn¡¯t replicate if we gave her enough salt, encase all of it in a salt bubble of Fleur¡¯s making, and slide back down the ramp. The Preservation people must¡¯ve noticed me by now, but honestly, I don¡¯t give a shit.

    I sprint through a group of elementals, tossing a few projectile-infused coins into particularly dangerous points as Fleur demolishes the ones who get too close to me. Gasps and screams of fear rise in the Preservation¡¯s ranks, and I have to put up more than a few shields to stop weak-ass attacks they fling at me. Even my brain creaks as some of them try to cast spells on me, but it feels like my awareness chews them up and spits them out before they can take hold.

    ¡°Make room!¡± I order as I break through the line, Fleur at my heels, and barrel through some very confused and scared Preservationists. ¡°This elemental¡¯s on your side, and she¡¯s going to help keep you safe until your speaker comes back to get you all out of here! Make damn sure he doesn¡¯t try to attack her!¡±

    They all stare blankly at me. They recognize me from earlier, but they obviously don¡¯t understand how I¡¯m here. And¡­ as I slowly take in all the looks, I realize that they¡¯re scared of me. It feels¡­ weird.

    But I can make use of it.

    ¡°Did even one of you goddamn idiots hear me!?¡±

    Suddenly, everyone who can stand comes up with a bad case of spine straightening. They all turn to look at me as if I was a drill sergeant that just screamed at them, which¡­ yeah, that was the plan, but I didn¡¯t expect it to work so well.

    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am!¡± They all say in differing tones, cadences, and levels of exhaustion. But it looks so ingrained in them that I must¡¯ve triggered some kind of trauma response. I¡¯ll have to remember this.

    ¡°Good!¡± I shout and motion at the helicopter. ¡°I¡¯m leaving this hellhole, and I suggest you take that boat of yours and do the exact same thing when Call gets back! The krarig¡¯s about an hour away from being the world¡¯s problem, and your organization just sent in a damned huge solution! Now clear a path!¡±

    The Preservationists all step aside, even though most of them aren¡¯t actually in my way. Fleur accompanies me all the way to the helicopter, then waits patiently as I fish around in my pockets for the keys.

    ¡°The hell are¡­ did Mercenary have them¡­?¡±

    Jangling keys descend into my field of view, extended on a thorn of salt. I snatch them out of the air with a nod of thanks, press the button on the fob to open the helicopter¡¯s hatch, and jump in before it can hit the ground. Fleur packs in everything behind me as I make my way to the pilot¡¯s seat, then goes back to help the Preservation fend off the elementals.

    I grab a pair of headphones, stick the key in the ignition, and close the hatch. The rotors slowly shear through the salt that encrusted them, and after a few worrying seconds, start to chop through the air in earnest. My awareness floods over the controls as I stare at them, the blankness of my mask completely cutting me off from the outside world as the chopper becomes airtight.

    Before I can even say anything, my awareness latches onto a button labeled ¡®tint windows¡¯. I sigh in relief and press it, and once the windows have taken on a golden-brown hue, I peel my mask off my face and tuck it into the side of my seat. Because I have a feeling I¡¯m going to need it again really soon.

 Chapter 93: The Storm

    Blades chop through the air, struggling to lift Ursula¡¯s helicopter off the pad. I flick a few switches that my awareness highlights for me, and somehow, everything levels out. Pearl motions at a set of dials with different needles and numbers in them to get my attention. Too bad I have no idea what any of them mean, so I just have to let my awareness do ninety percent of the work.

    Once I¡¯m high enough in the air, I shove the flight stick towards where all the explosions came from. Shields shimmer in the corner of my mind as my awareness seeps into the air around the helicopter, which seems¡­ weird¡­ considering it couldn¡¯t reach out when I had the mask on. Does the mask do something strange to my awareness other than just visualizing it?

    ¡°Gambler, you up in the air yet?!¡± Ursula nearly screams into my ear. ¡°They¡¯re gaining ground, and I¡¯m dangerously close to falling back into the storm! That ain¡¯t good!¡±

    I tighten my hold on my coins and grit my teeth. ¡°Helicopter¡¯s up in the air. Is it really a good idea for me to fly out there into an active warzone?¡±

    ¡°Nope! But we really don¡¯t have a choice.¡± Ursula laughs as more noise comes through both the mic and the air. ¡°If they push me back into the storm, shit¡¯s not gonna work. We need to get them distracted with the krarig so they don¡¯t try following us back to land!¡±

    That¡¯s the plan? It seems¡­ highly dependent on somehow wasting an hour before the krarig wakes up. If Ursula¡¯s already having trouble with that, I¡¯ll be about as helpful as a fly trying to shatter a windshield. There¡¯s got to be a better way to do this. Relocating the helicopter with everything inside of it is a no-go, since each item would need its own coin, and I¡¯m already risking bankruptcy with the plan to save Fleur.

    So¡­ what are my other options here? The magical storm crackling just a few hundred feet away from me is approaching damn fast, and the second I go into it, a countdown much shorter than an hour¡¯s going to start. Before I come out the other side of it, I have to know what I¡¯m going to do.

    I could fly straight at them and hope my shields are enough. Dumb as hell, but maybe they¡¯ll hold their fire on the sheer audacity of it. That¡¯s probably suicide, though, so let¡¯s call that plan ¡®Don¡¯t¡¯. Then there¡¯s the option to just relocate Ursula onto the helicopter the moment I¡¯m clear of the storm, which would get her out of danger, but would paint an even bigger target on the helicopter.

    It¡¯s a better option than plan Don¡¯t, but still not a great one. The storm shrieks against the helicopter as it swallows me whole, and my hands fly out to press a bunch of buttons and adjust a bunch of sliders that I don¡¯t actually know what they do. It really sucks in here, and for a moment, all the lines in my ear go dark.

    Background noises I didn¡¯t know I¡¯d gotten used to winked off like a staticky TV someone finally realized they¡¯d left on. The sudden absence of noise is almost like a punch to the gut, but it¡¯s quickly replaced by the violent crackling of the storm around me. With a deep breath I steady my hands and reset my course.

    ¡°I can always use the storm for cover and sneak out of here.¡± I mutter to myself, glancing at the strangeness around me. It seems even more violent than when we came in, probably thanks to the krarig waking up. ¡°Relocate Mercenary to safety, fly away for thirty minutes, then relocate Diane and Razi into the helicopter so the Preservation doesn¡¯t sense them with us. But¡­ shit, that¡¯s not going to work.¡±

    Because I need time. I need March¡¯s platform, I need a teleporter from Noland, and I need to get there before Fleur loses too much ground to the krarig, or else the relocations will cost way too much. How the hell am I supposed to buy everyone enough time while also not bankrupting myself? It just¡­ doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯s going to work.

    Moments pass. The storm shakes the helicopter like a leaf in the wind, but whatever Ursula did to it keeps it moving straight. Sweat slicks the control stick as I grip it tighter and tighter, possible plans filtering through my mind like water through a strainer. Nothing stays. Every time something looks like it might pool up, it drains a moment later when a possibility rears its ugly head.

    But the worst out of everything is the thing I¡¯m in right now. The storm. All my relocation connections feel weak and thin inside of it, and when I was on the other side, I could barely feel the one relocation coin I had outside. I thought it was because of the distance, and it still might factor in, but the much more likely possibility is magical interference.

    So even if I manage to get Ursula and get away safe¡­ everything in the krarig¡¯s going to be cut off by the storm. Fleur, Razi, Diane¡­ they¡¯re all out of my hands. At the mercy of whatever the Preservation has planned for the krarig.

    ¡°Shit¡­¡± I grimace as the storm slowly clears. ¡°The damn job¡¯s completely done, so why¡¯d I have to get involved in so much extra shit?¡±

    All at once, the storm clears. Explosions and magic rocks the sky as Ursula fights two armored figures¨Cthe speakers¨Caround something that looks like a combination between a stealth bomber and an aircraft carrier. It hovers in the air like a helicopter over a mass of dirty wave-like black clouds, aided by massive engines belching equally dirty flames towards the sea below.

    For a split second, all I can do is stare at the strange thing. People scurry about the surface of it like¡­ well¡­ sailors hurrying to their battlestations. But I¡¯m pretty damn sure there weren¡¯t supposed to be this many of them.

    ¡°Architect?! What part of this looks like fifteen people?!¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ that¡­ uh...¡± March trails off in disbelief. ¡°I wasn''t able to see until the helicopter got in range. Mercenary! What¡¯s happening?¡±

    Ursula grunts as an explosion blossoms on the main deck. I watch as a streak of blue careens through the sky, chased by the two speakers. ¡°My damn numbers weren¡¯t wrong! It might look like an aircraft carrier, but it''s actually a cargo ship run by exactly the number of people I told you about!¡±

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    ¡°A cargo ship? Why the¡­¡± I stop myself before I can say something stupid. ¡°They¡¯re going to harvest the krarig.¡±

    ¡°No shit!¡± Ursula barks as her tiny silhouette dodges the speakers. ¡°Don¡¯t think I need to say it, but we can¡¯t let that happen!¡±

    ¡°But we also need to make sure the krarig dies!¡± March argues. ¡°Can we do both?¡±

    I reach for my relocation coins as they go back and forth. Two of them reply instantly¨CUrsula¡¯s, and the one I left behind weeks ago. All the others feel weak. Like they¡¯ll snap if I so much as tried to use them.

    ¡°Not unless we can get rid of the storm.¡±

    March and Ursula go as silent as two people speaking over a mid-air battlefield can be. A cold shudder worms its way down my spine, and I throw up a shield as a chunk of screaming green metal slams into it. Cracks blossom from the point of impact, and from just one attack, my shield shatters. The shards take the metal down to the ocean with them.

    ¡°You can do something about it?¡± Ursula asks in disbelief. ¡°If we get rid of the storm, you can deal with the krarig? No breaking international laws, no throwing us into war with the Preservation, and no sacrificing everyone on board the thing?¡±

    I nod, even though neither of them can see me. ¡°As long as Architect has the platform finished and Banker can teleport me from my apartment to the resort, I can do it. It might put me into serious debt, but¡­ I can do it.¡±

    ¡°Banker can help you with that. It¡¯ll cost you a bunch of free gambling games, but he¡¯ll do it.¡± March informs me. ¡°Oh, and you¡¯ll technically lose possession of the spell you cast. It shouldn¡¯t really make a difference, though, since we¡¯re on the same side.¡±

    ¡°One of his skills?¡± I ask.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± March confirms. ¡°I think it''s called¡­ hostile takeover, right?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Sounds a lot worse than it actually is, though.¡± Ursula flashes me a thumbs-up from where she¡¯s fighting. I¡­ don¡¯t know how I saw it from so far away. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m gonna do the thing, Architect. You got Gambler¡¯s thing ready?¡±

    ¡°I still need a minute. Construction¡¯s underway, but we don¡¯t have all the materials on hand.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine; I¡¯ll take a minute for this, too. Tell Banker to get his ass to Gambler¡¯s old apartment with a teleportal, and that he¡¯ll have to help her with her skill. And Gambler?¡±

    I nod slightly. ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Put up, like, a triple-layered shield. This is gonna be huge.¡±

    Something appears in Ursula¡¯s hands. It¡¯s relatively small¨Conly about as big as her head¨Cbut my awareness screams at me the moment my eyes latch onto it. Whatever it is, it¡¯s insanely destructive. My hands blur as I throw coins all around the helicopter, shields teeming on the edge of my mind at the ready.

    Both armored figures freeze moments later. They share a look, and then one of them gestures wildly at the aircraft carrier. An alarm blares out loud enough to scrape the heavens, and the clouds around the carrier billow out to cover it completely as the speakers retreat to¡­ safety, I guess. Ursula gently caresses the spherical device in her hands, twists it in two separate directions, and pulls its halves apart.

    It exposes a rod of vibrant blue energy that was trapped inside. Waves of insanely intense magical energy wash over the helicopter, but somehow, they barely affect it. I flick more switches to stabilize the flight, then push a command into all of my shields to ignite. Because something tells me that I won¡¯t be able to react to whatever Ursula¡¯s device is about to do.

    She grabs the cylinder with one hand. Magic surges through her suit, sending the veins that run along it into overdrive as a whirl of violent energy erupts from the sphere. After a moment she lets go, her suit so heavy with magic that she feels like a black hole in my awareness, and turns towards the storm.

    ¡°This¡¯ll destroy the storm almost instantly.¡± Her voice crackles over the comms, clear and confident and brimming with destructive anticipation. ¡°Teleport me in when it clears, then go do your thing. I¡¯ll fly back alone, and the Preservation will be too scared to go after me without serious reinforcements.¡±

    Before I can say anything, Ursula reels back and hucks the device at the storm. Her suit augments her throw to a blur of magic and motion, and my eyes struggle to follow the high speed speck of a mystery device as it screams closer and closer to the storm. I steel myself for the impact against my shields as it brushes the very outer edge¨C

    My ears ring. My vision goes white and blue. All my shields strain against a force that¡¯s unbelievably strong, yet somehow held back. It¡¯s barely anything, and with a very confused mind, I shove more shields at the weak points. Then I do it again. And again. Over the course of five whole seconds I throw dozens and dozens of shields around the helicopter. My awareness strains to focus on all of them.

    Unbelievably destructive magic rocks my world. I know it¡¯s not a good comparison, since the real things were so much worse, but it feels like I¡¯m trying to fight back the shockwave of a nuke. My shields only hold on because of that weird hold-back sensation, which Ursula definitely has something to do with, but even still¡­ it feels hopeless.

    And then, just as violently as the explosion expanded, it starts to contract. The strain on my shields shifts from the front of the helicopter to the back of it, and I have to shift my focus to a different part in the blink of an eye. It strains me more than I¡¯d care to admit, and as I watch the now implosion shear around the helicopter, I can¡¯t help but think how weak I really am.

    Ursula did all this with one little device. She¡¯s been holding back all the while we were in the krarig, but now, she doesn¡¯t have to. It¡­ terrifies me to think what she¡¯ll look like when she goes all out. And now I understand why the Preservation has left the resort alone.

    It isn¡¯t just March and her buildings. It¡¯s all of them. And they want ¡®all of them¡¯ to include me someday.

    ¡°Alright, port me in!¡± Ursula yells excitedly into my ear. ¡°The fallout will slow ¡®em down for five minutes! That long enough for you, Gambler?!¡±

    I blink away the magical floaters in my eye and reach for Ursula¡¯s relocation. The coin thumps down onto the seat next to me, and I wince as a mass of magic and radiation takes its place. Ursula brushes off multiple scorch marks from her suit like they were crumbs and gives me a big thumbs-up.

    Honestly, though, if it wasn¡¯t for my awareness I wouldn¡¯t have even noticed it. Because I¡¯m way too busy watching the implosion drag the entire magical storm with it like a sheet stuck in a ceiling fan. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it; wind and water shot through with magic somehow moving like a solid. And a glittering field of blue magic¡­ sparkles¡­ left in the explosion¡¯s wake.

    ¡°What the hell did you do?¡± I whisper.

    Ursula raises an eyebrow as she pulls off her helmet. ¡°I blew up the storm. You gonna get out of here?¡±

    I clench my jaw and feel out all my relocations. Each of them resonates clear and clean. Nothing stopping me from grabbing hold from any one of them. So I latch onto the one coin I left behind¨Cthe one I dropped right before I got in Ursula¡¯s car so many days ago¨Cand ready myself for my first attempt at extreme long distance relocation.

 Chapter 94: Cut Out The Rot

    My stomach twists itself into knots as my mind follows the connection all the way to my coin right in front of my apartment. Everything feels loose and ethereal for the moments it takes, like my body and mind aren¡¯t in the same place, and when I finally reach the other end of my relocation, it feels¡­ intense. Like staring down at a massive drop on a rollercoaster, knowing it''s only seconds before the plummet.

    There¡¯s going to be something different about this. But¡­ I can do it. I take a deep breath, put on my mask, and focus wholly on my awareness.

    ¡°Start flying away.¡± I tell Ursula as I let go of the controls. ¡°If everything doesn¡¯t work out¡­ I¡­ don¡¯t know how to apologize to Fleur.¡±

    Ursula takes the controls with a somber nod. ¡°If this doesn¡¯t work, Gambler, there¡¯s nothing you could¡¯ve done for her. I¡¯m still not a hundred percent on how you¡¯re going to reproduce the environment of the krarig without risk, but I know you can do it. So go do it.¡±

    I confidently return her nod. Relocation flares through my awareness. And for the briefest of moments¡­ everything stretches. The horizon contorts and twists in ways that don¡¯t make sense, the ocean dips down to nothing, and the clouds in the sky thin out so much that they¡¯re barely white stains against the blue. My stomach jumps as my awareness strains to keep me¡­ me.

    Patches of silver-white stain the world. Fate glitters every which way, cutting through the patches like slashes of orange. Huge chunks fall away, only for larger chunks to appear somewhere else. I watch the cycle of destruction and creation for what feels like hours, but my body moves so slowly that I know it isn¡¯t right.

    Before my hand can reach for the strangeness, it all disappears. Horrible metallic screeching and a sound like concrete shattering snaps me back to reality, and I nearly tear my head from my neck looking around to get my bearings.

    I¡¯m¡­ not outside. My awareness feels everything all around me¨Cwalls, floor, ceiling¨Cand a tunnel off to my right. Something must¡¯ve picked up the coin and thrown it far away. Maybe¡­ I¡¯m in the sewers again. That¡¯d make sense.

    I tentatively peel the mask off my face for a second. My eyes don¡¯t adjust. Utter darkness seals me in, and I slip the mask back on as my heart thunders in my chest. Metallic screeching. Concrete shattering. A coin that isn¡¯t in the same place as it was. It can only mean one thing.

    The subwyrms are destroying the city. And Noland has no idea where the hell I am.

    ¡°Shit.¡± I hiss through clenched teeth. ¡°Shit shit shit, shit shit shit!¡±

    March¡¯s voice crackles into my ear. ¡°Gambler! What¡¯s wrong?!¡±

    Something creaks and rumbles down the tunnel. The ground trembles as it moves. It doesn¡¯t take an artist¡¯s imagination to know what¡¯s waiting for me. Or¡­ what made this tunnel in the first place. I desperately turn my head to try and find some other way out, but what I¡¯d thought was a solid wall is actually extremely tightly packed rubble. Which is honestly worse for a cave-in risk.

    ¡°Subwyrms! One of ¡®em ate my coins, so Banker won¡¯t know where to find me!¡± I whisper a little too harshly. The noise and tremors get louder and more intense. ¡°Get me data on the shitters! Can I fight them?!¡±

    ¡°Okay, coming right up!¡± March¡¯s keyboard frantically taps away.

    Something huge pokes into the bubble of my awareness. A rounded head, like a worm¡¯s, but split perfectly down the center. Along that split blink dozens of glassy, bulbous eyes. The split opens ever so slightly, revealing a toothless hole that goes on and on, with pulsating rings of¡­ things¡­ that exert a terrifying amount of magical pressure.

    I snap my mouth shut and hold my breath. Another peek out of my mask shows beams of light shining down the tunnel, completely illuminating it like daylight. They aren¡¯t just damn eyes; they¡¯re headlights. So it¡¯s going to see me. I don¡¯t have time.

    ¡°Architect!¡±

    ¡°All the info I have on subwyrms is completely different! There¡¯s, like, a hundred different kinds of them, ranging from threat level one to threat level sixty! How many eyes does that one have?¡±

    A quick count gives me a pretty high number. ¡°Thirty-eight!¡±

    March nearly chokes on her spit. ¡°RUN!¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nowhere to run!¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ just¡­ I don¡¯t know!¡± She says with desperation creeping into her voice. ¡°A subwyrm¡¯s threat level is equal to its number of eyes!¡±

    O-oh. It¡¯s threat level¡­ thirty eight. That¡¯s high. Really high.

    ¡°Please tell me either you or Banker can do something.¡±

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    I press up against the back wall. Chunks of debris dig into me, and I feel my body flush with fear. Call said the subwyrms were growing. Most of the things started off super weak, but this one¡¯s powerful. The Preservation left all this behind. They evacuated the city, and left it to rot. Just like¡­ the¡­

    Anger bubbles up in my throat. ¡°Just like the krarig. Did they plant this, too?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll look into it later. Banker incoming!¡±

    A gold lightning bolt crashes through the ceiling, splattering liquid metal on the ground and walls. I step back in surprise, since my awareness didn¡¯t catch it at all, but it somehow knows that it''s gold. All the metal shifts and squirms until it takes the form of a person.

    Noland adjusts his tie, glances back at the subwyrm, and scoffs. ¡°Disgusting things. Oh, and welcome back¨Chaven¡¯t seen you for a while. How¡¯s it going?¡±

    ¡°Not the time.¡±

    ¡°No, I guess it isn¡¯t.¡± He chuckles. With a wave of his hand, something thunders down the tunnel. The subwyrm just¡­ dies. ¡°Okay, with that out of the way, let¡¯s get moving. I¡¯m half informed on the plan, but I¡¯d like to be fully informed before you do something that could endanger the resort.¡±

    I stare dumbly at the subwyrm¨Cwhich, by all right, should still be alive¨Cand try to form words. He just¡­ waved his hand at it. And it died. No external or internal damage, no tremors, just sudden and peaceful death.

    ¡°How¡¯d you do that?¡±

    Noland waggles a finger as he clicks his tongue. ¡°Don¡¯t ask questions you won¡¯t like the answer to. Now, Architect tells me that you¡¯re in need of a teleport assist. And after that, you might need a ton of Worth. I can help if it¡¯s specifically a spell that you can cast without instantly paying the entire cost, but if you have to fully cast it before it appears, then you¡¯re shit out of luck.¡±

    I blink twice as a golden portal appears behind Noland. ¡°Uh, it¡¯s relocation. I have to use it once to designate a target¨C¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re good!¡± He cuts me off with a grin and grabs my shoulder. ¡°Should we go right to the platform Architect made, or do we need to stop first for those¡­ friends of yours?¡±

    ¡°Razi and Diane?¡± I frown, and¡­ yeah, they need to be rescued first. Since rescuing Fleur will kill the krarig. ¡°Them first, but we¡¯re going to need to keep an eye on them. I don¡¯t think they¡¯re lying to me, but that doesn¡¯t mean they won¡¯t try to sell us out to the Preservation somewhere down the line.¡±

    Noland flashes me another smile and a thumbs-up. ¡°Heard you loud and clear. I cleaned up the meeting room just in case something like this happened, so we¡¯ll stop by there first. Now¨Con you go!¡±

    He shoves me towards the portal, but I¡¯m already walking, so it barely comes off as a push. Everything shifts as I appear in the middle of the meeting room. Not quite on top of the table, but close enough that it feels lucky I didn¡¯t. Until I turn around and see the portal¡¯s still active right behind me, with Noland casually walking through as well.

    With a flourish of his hand, he signals for me to go ahead. I reply by steeling myself against all the strange sensations once again, and pull on Diane and Razi¡¯s relocation coins. It takes a moment to connect, just like before, but this time they just snap into place. Diane appears a second later. Razi follows immediately.

    They both look around in a daze for all of five seconds, eyes glassy and unfocused, then collapse to the ground. A puddle of vomit slowly builds around Diane as she quietly retches, and from wetness in Razi¡¯s pants, he lost control of his bladder.

    ¡°...Alright, I wasn''t expecting that to happen.¡± Noland says flatly. ¡°Architect, get the medstaff down here. We¡¯ll get them cleaned up and give them the good old ¡®you¡¯re not quite hostages, but you¡¯re not allowed to leave¡¯ speech when they¡¯re up and running.¡±

    He bends down and sets Diane on her side so she doesn¡¯t choke on her own vomit, then steps gingerly over Razi, careful not to get his shoes wet. Somehow he does it without a hint of judgment of annoyance in his body language.

    ¡°How far¡¯s the platform again?¡± I ask when he dusts off his pants and stands tall again. ¡°Because the longer we take, the more Worth this is going to cost us.¡±

    ¡°Miles. But I can just do this.¡± He leans over and taps the portal frame. The image shifts from the inside of a tunnel to an ocean view slightly tinted by thick glass and dull metal. ¡°Destination¡¯s set again. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    I hesitate for a second for no real reason, then step through. Noland joins me instantly this time, and the portal frame collapses behind us. Countless golden coins fall to the ground, each pinging against the metal once before they turn into golden magical mist. I choose to ignore how much Worth that must have cost, pull out the four coins I need, and flick the three relocations connected to the hearts as far away from each other as I can.

    Fleur¡¯s, I keep on me. If I fail¡­ I want to apologize to her face as she dies.

    But I don¡¯t plan on failing. Noland puts a hand on my shoulder, and I feel something connecting him to me. Our differences are made frustratingly clear. His power¨Chis Worth¨Cfeels like looking out over an endless ocean. In comparison, mine feels like a kiddie pool. Not just smaller, but cheaper and more restrained.

    ¡°Actually, the explanation can wait.¡± He pats my shoulder, then pulls his hand away. Strands of gold connect him to me, and in my awareness, I can see those strands travelling towards my coins. ¡°Take the risk, Shelby.¡±

    I lick dry lips and nod. Mostly to him, but also to myself. I¡¯ve never relocated anything like this before, and I probably should¡¯ve practiced with much smaller things before, but that¡¯s all too late now. My awareness entwines with Nolan¡¯s skill. His immeasurable Worth dwarfs my own, and before I can even try to put a single Worth into my skill, his surges forth and funds them.

    Snaps echo up my spine. Something in my brain flickers, and the outlines of three hearts overlay themselves onto the platform. I breathe a sigh of relief and force Noland¡¯s Worth into my relocations.

    Weight. Salt. Grease. Two massive entities vying for supremacy, neither willing to cede an inch in their combat. Fleur eagerly tries to help me. The krarig resists me with all its might. I feel warmth trickle down my nose, eyes, and ears. Everything wobbles as the outlines shift. Raise. Come together to form a much¡­ much¡­ much larger outline.

    An entire krarig superimposes itself onto reality. I barely have a moment to scream warning before Noland motions at the coins, and they soar off into the ocean. The krarig, completely alive and enraged, relocates to the coast of the resort.

    And I can feel Fleur screaming.

 Chapter 95: The Last Resort

    Magical force washes over me like a sonic boom. My ears ring and my eyes blur as I try to take in the¡­ mistake¡­ I just made. A krarig. Empowered with magical salt. Enraged and malicious, lying in wait just a few miles from the resort proper.

    I fall to my knees as Fleur¡¯s agony pierces my mind. ¡°No¡­ I¡­ I didn¡¯t¡­¡±

    This isn¡¯t what was supposed to happen. It was just supposed to be the three hearts. I was¡­ supposed to kill the krarig by yanking them out, and then Fleur could use them to live here, and recreate the conditions of the krarig¡­

    But¡­ it isn¡¯t what happened. I put everyone in danger. I¡¯m the reason we didn¡¯t try anything else to save Fleur. There¡¯s¡­ also a chance¡­ some Preservation people died when the krarig came over. Innocent people, even if the Preservation itself is corrupt to hell. Their blood is on my hands.

    Noland gently rests a hand on my shoulder. ¡°What¡¯s the contingency plan?¡±

    I look up at him with a shaky laugh. ¡°Contingency plan?! What kind of moron would plan for¡­ that?!¡±

    With a sweeping gesture, I encompass the entire scene playing out in front of us. The krarig, tainting the waters around it with oily grease that radiates magic like radioactive waste. Salt slowly encompassing it like a suit of armor, but not like with the vendigators; this time, the krarig¡¯s in control of the salt. It hasn¡¯t even started to attack yet.

    The mere act of it existing is enough to warp the world.

    ¡°Yeah. You always plan for the absolute worst outcome. But if you couldn¡¯t even fathom something outlandish like this, then I guess I have to give you classes on being pessimistic.¡± Noland tries to smile, but his face is stuck in an expression of grim acceptance. ¡°Did you have Ursula plant bombs in there? Or coins to relocate bombs in? How about coastal defenses from March?¡±

    Ashamedly, I shake my head. All I¡¯d planned for was the teleportation not working. I hadn¡¯t even thought of it working too well.

    He clicks his tongue and holds out a hand. ¡°March, can you keep this from leaking into the outside world?¡±

    As he speaks, a golden watch with a digital display appears in his palm. The lights are nearly the same gold as the rest of the watch, but underneath them, there¡¯s a tiny glass tube with a mixture of blue, gold, and pink swirling around inside of it.

    ¡°No. But the Preservation will cover for us this time.¡± March says confidently. ¡°After all, we have documents that prove they¡¯re the reason this krarig appeared. That¡¯s better blackmail than anything we¡¯ve had so far.¡±

    ¡°Well, then I guess there¡¯s no choice.¡± Noland straps the watch to his wrist. Veins of gold shoot out of it and embed themselves in his flesh, and everything about him takes on a shimmering luster. ¡°Shelby, bring that elemental here. She¡¯ll be happier to live out her final moments in your arms than in the krarig.¡±

    The two-number display starts to tick up, up, and up. Air stops working. All the light nearby converges towards Noland, forcing my eyes to lock onto him as the watch forces more and more magic into his body. Somehow, I can feel all the Worth he¡¯s using for this. Hundreds of thousands of the precious resource flow into him from the watch, yet it also feels like Worth is flowing into the watch from him.

    ¡°What are you waiting for? Call her here.¡±

    I shake myself out of the terrified awe I¡¯d been struck by, then focus on Fleur¡¯s coin. It feels¡­ weak. Weak and terrified and wracked with the sadness of looming mortality. If only I¡¯d been less ambitious. Maybe one heart would¡¯ve worked. Or just some metal and grease. I watch in fear and admiration as Noland faces down the krarig without flinching.

    He¡¯s trying to fix my mistake. Ursula¡¯s the only reason I could work the plan in the first place. And March made this platform, costing herself however much Worth in the process. Hell, even Gil helped me out when he really had no reason to. But I¡¯ve been keeping a secret from these people all this time. A secret that I need to talk to right now if I want a chance to save Fleur¡¯s life.

    Honestly¡­ if I can¡¯t trust them with it¡­ then I can¡¯t trust any other human with it. They¡¯re bearing the same burden of Worth Classes as I am.

    ¡°Pearl¡­¡± I whisper, but I know everyone can hear me. ¡°What can I do for her?¡±

    Noland raises an eyebrow, but doesn¡¯t shift his focus. March goes abnormally quiet on the line, and if I had to guess, she¡¯s putting a few pieces together in her head that she already suspected.

    Pearl straightens her back. ¡°She needs an extremely high concentration of magic to live. The Krarig¡¯s one possible source of it, but if you can somehow find another, it should work too.¡±

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    This time, Noland¡¯s neck nearly snaps to stare at me in wide-eyed disbelief. And a quiet, revelatory gasp is all March can manage.

    ¡°It came¡­ from¡­¡± Noland whispers as his eyes trail to Pearl¡¯s shell. ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I detected back then¡­¡± March trails off excitedly. ¡°A parasite that took over a shellraiser¡¯s shell.¡±

    I snort out a humourless laugh. Fleur¡¯s coin feels¡­ a little lighter in my hand. ¡°Not quite. Pearl¡¯s the real deal. She¡¯s the reason I have awareness, she has authority over shellraiser-made devices, and a shell full of¡­ magic¡­¡±

    Pearl squeals excitedly before I finish my sentence. ¡°Roommates! We can be roommates! I¡¯ll have to rewrite her a little so she doesn¡¯t have a core, but it should work!¡±

    Then I guess there¡¯s nothing else to try. Relocation flashes in my coin, and after a tough pull, Fleur appears before me. Or¡­ what¡¯s left of her. Weak light emanates from her cores, her body is missing massive chunks, and she just feels¡­ less than before. I reach down to rest a hand on her body, and nearly flinch away at the deathly chill that clings to her.

    ¡°Gam¡­bler?¡± She weakly asks a few moments later. ¡°Where¡­ am I?¡±

    ¡°Where everything went wrong.¡± I laugh bitterly. ¡°Pearl¡­ do your thing. Noland, if you can, try to leave one of the hearts intact. Maybe we¡¯ll be able to build this place up for Fleur over time.¡±

    ¡°No promises. But I¡¯ll see if I can control it.¡±

    Fleur tries to move. Her body just shatters with every little effort. I gently insist she stops moving, but even when she¡¯s still, I can feel the magic leaving her. Within moments, she¡¯ll be nothing but an unthinking pile of once magical salt.

    Pearl pops out of her shell and sprints down my arm. Fleur watches it happen, but I¡¯m not sure if she actually registers what she¡¯s seeing. Noland, however, is very much registering everything. He traces Pearl with his eyes, which are somehow both wide with fear and narrowed in confusion, but snaps back to the krarig as a strange noise echoes out.

    It sounds like¡­ sonar blips? And they¡¯re definitely coming from the krarig. ¡°What the hell is that?¡±

    Noland clicks his tongue. ¡°It¡¯s locking on. Anything near it is definitely dead from just the sound, but since we only heard it, the follow-up attack is coming damn soon.¡±

    I look from Noland to his watch, then back to Fleur and Pearl. The elemental and the shellraiser are both glowing strangely, and Fleur¡¯s magic seems to be leaking out much slower now. But her cores are¡­ dissolving into her body. If Pearl isn¡¯t successful here, then Fleur is dead for sure.

    ¡°You can do it, Pearl.¡± I whisper as I shift all my focus to the krarig. ¡°Noland¡­ how can I help with that thing?¡±

    He gestures at the ground in front of him. ¡°Shields. Layer dozens of them on top of each other and put them around both of us. March will protect the resort, but we need to protect ourselves.¡±

    I nod and start pushing shields into as many coins as I can spare. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll do much, but if you think it¡¯ll help¡­¡±

    ¡°It will.¡± He cuts me off confidently. ¡°Activate them all as soon as you make them. I can¡¯t shoulder the cost for these shields, but I¡¯ll strengthen the hell out of them.¡±

    Since I¡¯m reminded of how he empowered my relocations enough to pull the krarig halfway across the world, I don¡¯t have a single shred of doubt for his abilities. So I just keep pushing shields into my coins shaped like domes around the four of us, letting them fall to the ground, and watching as Noland takes them over one by one.

    My clear magic shields are overwhelmed by glimmering gold. Swirling magical maelstroms that give off the sensation of being dozens of times stronger than my own. I don¡¯t even want to imagine how much Worth he¡¯s putting into each of my shields to get them this powerful. Or¡­ maybe his skill just works like this.

    I can¡¯t help but gawk as Noland juggles dozens of activations of his skill without an awareness to help him. His Mind stat must be insane to keep up with all this, especially while he¡¯s charging whatever the watch is going to do.

    Horrible noise splits the air. My attention tears away from Noland and to the distant krarig, which isn¡¯t quite as distant as moments ago. The giant metal squid, tainted and twisted by the apocalypse into a true monstrosity, thrashes tentacles out from beneath the surface of the water. Each one of them shudders and twitches like a dying animal as grease bleeds out of dozens and dozens of wounds.

    Or¡­ that¡¯s what I initially thought. All the wounds instantly closed and the grease flow cut off, leaving each tentacle in perfect shape. Except now¡­ more things bubble beneath the grease-polluted waves. Countless tiny ripples in the grease, like an entire gravel truck flung its contents onto the surface of a still lake.

    Then they start to rise. Tentacles, each as large as one of the krarig¡¯s own, made of seawater and grease and encased in a thin layer of Fleur¡¯s salt. She groans in pain as the krarig commandeers her power. One tentacle alone is at least a mile long, and that¡¯s only the part I can see above the surface.

    In my awareness, they each feel like a monstrously powerful spell primed within a delicate container. Just the weight of crashing water would be enough to kill any normal person, but this¡­ it¡¯s like staring into hundreds of massive ticking bombs. I swallow around a dry mouth to try and get the sensations to leave. It does absolutely nothing.

    Noland checks his watch, then over his shoulder at the resort. ¡°Looks like it''s time. Shelby, shellraiser, you might want to look away. It¡¯s going to get insanely bright.¡±

    I glance back at the resort, but all I see is a wall of completely opaque magical projections. Then Noland goes supernova. Completely ignoring his advice, I turn with anticipation at the display of magical annihilation that¡¯s about to unfold before my very eyes.

    It all starts with a pillar of golden light that shears clear through one of the krarig¡¯s actual tentacles.

 Chapter 96: Fruits of Someone Elses Labor

    One by one, more and more pillars of golden light descend from cracks in the sky. Each of them severs a tentacle without resistance. Waves of destructive retaliation slam against the platform, but somehow, it holds strong. My shields¨Cempowered by Noland commandeering them¨Cbarely twitch under the stress that would¡¯ve killed me a thousand times over.

    And¡­ it¡¯s just the shockwaves. The afterthought of magic being destroyed, not the actual magic itself. That little bit of magic from the krarig would¡¯ve been enough to kill me. My hands close around Fleur¡¯s changing body. I want to turn away. But I can¡¯t.

    This is how strong I have to be if I want to be completely free. Actually¡­ no. I need to be stronger than this. Stronger than Noland, Ursula, March, and anyone the Preservation can throw at us. Illumisia alone proves that the other world is more dangerous than Earth. There¡¯s bound to be others like her¨Cothers that the system will eventually throw at me and the other Worths to make sure we don¡¯t do¡­ whatever the system is scared of.

    So I don¡¯t turn away. I lock my eyes on the scene, watch as Noland turns his palm to the air, and gawk at the golden sphere that flickers into existence. Inside, a miniature krarig thrashes and struggles against the small golden confines. Outside, the krarig thrashes and struggles against a gigantic golden sphere that completely cuts it off from moving.

    Noland raises his hand with the sphere. The real krarig¡¯s sphere mirrors the movement¨Craising the massive apocalypse-touched monster out of the water and exposing its disgustingly long body for all to see. Tentacles like amalgams of steel supports and drills whip through the air, smashing against the golden prison and leaving long marks that hiss and thrum louder than volcanic eruptions.

    Beads of sweat trail down Noland¡¯s neck. ¡°Tell your elemental friend that I need her help.¡±

    I blink in surprise. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ not able to talk at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Damn it.¡± He hisses. ¡°Well, then it¡¯s not my fault that we couldn¡¯t get any of the hearts out of this thing. Ursula! March! You two want this thing for research?¡±

    ¡°Yes, please!¡±

    ¡°You better not destroy the damn thing!¡±

    Two very different responses say pretty much the exact same thing. Noland sighs in annoyance, like they just made much more work for him, but I can see the small smile hidden under that annoyance. And, for some reason, I feel the need to test it.

    ¡°You could completely destroy it for the Worth bonus, you know.¡±

    ¡°Sure, I could, but then all I¡¯d get is Worth. Even after spending all this, I¡¯ve got more than enough to spare.¡± Noland reaches for the krarig in the sphere with his other hand and takes hold of a tentacle. ¡°Research material like this comes along once a decade. And with March and Ursula¡¯s skills, we¡¯ll get way more out of it than the Preservation could ever hope to. Anyway, I feel like I¡¯m going to vomit and pass out, so I¡¯m going to stop talking and start doing. Sorry if I accidentally squish the hearts.¡±

    Noland¡¯s fingers close around the tentacle. Giant, glimmering masses of golden magical sparks appear near the exact same part of the krarig and take hold it exactly like Noland did. Like a cruel child torturing a beetle, Noland began to systematically disassemble the krarig piece by piece.

    First came the tentacles. With sharp and merciless pulls, Noland severs each and every one and places them down on a simple shield he asks me to make. The real krarig¡¯s legs are severed just as easily, then float to the side and arrange themselves in exactly the same way Noland laid the legs out next to him.

    The krarig¡¯s screams reach a crescendo by the time Noland plucks out all of its eyes. It grows quiet when he rips its beak, a mass of jagged metal and dripping grease, free and pinches the hole it leaves shut. I can¡¯t do anything but watch in stunned silence as the krarig dies so easily before my eyes, and so thoroughly that I can¡¯t imagine how the other one did so much damage to the world.

    Using just his fingers, Noland dissects the krarig like a trained surgeon. All of its ¡®organs¡¯ are lined up with the legs, eyes, and the hollow shell that once held everything together. And, as if he¡¯d always planned to save the best for last, Noland finally reaches into that hollow shell and takes hold of a strangely shaped sphere that leaks grease and is coated in salt.

    My hope reignites when I see the heart. It blazes when he skillfully pulls the second and third free from the krarig¡¯s empty husk. And it crashes when I realize that I¡¯ve been raptly watching Noland dismantle this supposedly country-destroying apocalypse monster for almost an hour.

    Because if Pearl hadn¡¯t done what she did, Fleur would¡¯ve died fifty minutes ago. And, for some reason, I can¡¯t feel Fleur any more. Not like I can feel Pearl with my awareness, who¡¯s in her shell, quietly talking while she gestures at things that I can¡¯t see. It looks like it worked. But it also looks like it cost Fleur a lot.

    A sigh flows freely from Noland. He peels his watch away with obvious exhaustion, his hands trembling as he picks at the clasp.

    ¡°That¡¯s that.¡± He says shakily. ¡°I haven¡¯t been this exhausted since¡­ well, the system will censor that. And¡­ that. Oh, that too. Aaaand now I¡¯m too tired to think of more examples. March, can you come get the parts?¡±

    Bright pink flares next to me, and March steps through a portal much like the one Noland got me with. She locks eyes with me for a split second, but then all her focus shifts to Pearl¡¯s shell. Curiosity blazes in her eyes without an ounce of restraint, and from how she silently mouths empty words, she must have so many questions she wants to ask Pearl.

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    I hold up a hand before she can say anything. ¡°I¡¯ll explain everything when Ursula¡¯s back and we¡¯re in the meeting room. Nothing before then, okay?¡±

    ¡°I know. I¡¯m just¡­ is she how you got the everdriftwood?¡± March asks.

    ¡°Not until we¡¯re all together.¡± I remind her with a small grin. ¡°Pearl wants to meet all of you at once. Fleur, too, maybe. Depending on how she can work with the hearts Noland easily ripped free after he made me think he was going to completely obliterate the krarig.¡±

    Noland barely has the energy to smile sarcastically. ¡°You can¡¯t blame a guy for covering his ass just in case the krarig turned out to be much more of a problem than I expected. But hey, it all worked out, so we can be all sunshine and rainbows now!¡±

    March cocks her head to the side. ¡°The Preservation will come after us for this. Even if we have documents to prove they¡¯re in the wrong, they¡¯ll doctor their own evidence to look like we were the ones that did it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know, but that¡¯s at least a few months down the road. Probably a year, at least, since they¡¯ll have to thoroughly cover their tracks. Watch for any signs that they¡¯re remodeling or getting rid of the buildings you made for them.¡±

    ¡°I already am. Because you told me to half a year ago.¡±

    ¡°I did? Well, I guess past me had the right idea. I need to buy that guy a drink.¡± Noland laughs and turns towards March¡¯s portal. ¡°When you¡¯re done here Shelby, come find me to explain to our two hostages how they aren¡¯t just hostages. I¡¯ll keep them distracted for¡­ half an hour. Get that elemental settled in here and make sure March makes everything it needs. Oh, and send me the bill. It¡¯s all I¡¯m really good for, after all.¡±

    With those parting words lingering in the air like toxic pollen, Noland steps through the portal March used to come here. I mull on his strange self-deprecation for a few moments. It really doesn''t sit well with me; he just showed me the most brazen display of power I¡¯ve ever seen, and for some reason, he almost seemed humbled by it.

    ¡°Hey, March¡­ he wasn¡¯t serious about that, right?¡± I hesitantly ask as March fiddles with the platform floor.

    She shoots a glance over her shoulder before going right back to work. ¡°Technically, he isn¡¯t wrong. Banker doesn¡¯t have any spells of its own, and Noland¡¯s actually locked out of using any spells of his own. Hostile Takeover lets him use other people¡¯s spells, and Ursula made a bunch of gadgets with spell-like functions so he can fight.¡±

    ¡°But if he didn¡¯t have any of those, he wouldn¡¯t be able to fight powerful apocalyptic monsters.¡± I realize as I walk over to March and lean in to see what she¡¯s doing. ¡°So¡­ he can¡¯t even put spells into coins?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Ursula and I made a bunch of them for him to use.¡± March swipes her hand across the platform, and tendrils of metal extend far into the distance to start grabbing krarig parts to haul back. ¡°Gil helps sometimes, too, but he¡¯s not around as much. Honestly, I think you¡¯d be the best at making spells for him. He probably realized that when you asked him to help teleport in the krarig.¡±

    I clear my throat and look away in embarrassment. ¡°I¡­ only meant to teleport in the hearts. The rest of the krarig wasn¡¯t supposed to come along for the ride.¡±

    As the platform collects the krarig parts, March hums to herself in satisfaction and brushes off her pair of pajama pants. ¡°I just decided we¡¯re having pizza tonight. Send me a message when you¡¯re done talking to the two people you teleported in. Oh, and good luck with Fleur. She feels a lot weaker, but if I can actually replicate her conditions, she should recover pretty fast. Bye!¡±

    ¡°Wait, Nolan said¨C¡± I start, but March already marched through the portal. ¡°Damn it. At least she left it open behind her so I have a way off this platform.¡±

    I turn to the waters once again, and for a few minutes, I just watch the tendrils of metal drag the krarig parts closer and closer. They all disappear under the platform, and in a flash of magic, somehow feel connected to the thing. I¡¯ll have to ask March for the blueprints later, just in case she built a research lab under the water or something like that.

    ¡°Problems solved, huh?¡± Pearl says as she squishes onto my shoulder. ¡°The krarig¡¯s dead, you got the coins you were looking for, and the Preservation¡¯s on the backfoot. That sounds like a big win to me.¡±

    ¡°It does, doesn¡¯t it.¡±

    But something feels¡­ off about it all. Everything worked out perfectly fine, and even the worst thing that happened wasn¡¯t really that bad. All in all, I should consider it an amazing success for my first mission. Like I¡¯m forgetting a part of the mission that¡¯s going to come up and bite me in the ass in a few days.

    ¡°Shelby? Something wrong?¡±

    I shake my head and clear my doubts. ¡°Nah, probably just me overthinking things. How¡¯s Fleur? She doing alright?¡±

    Pearl sits down on my shoulder and lets her legs dangle freely. ¡°She¡¯s going to be perfectly fine. I worked my magic and infused her core into all her salt, which will definitely take a lot of time to get used to, but she¡¯s going to be way better off for it. No more obvious weak point, she¡¯ll move much faster through salt, and she¡¯ll be able to evolve a lot faster too. Kind of like a shellraiser.¡±

    ¡°But not as amazing, right?¡±

    ¡°Hey, we had millions of years. She¡¯s had less than a hundred.¡± Pearl giggles and plants a hand on my neck. ¡°Once she¡¯s had time to catch up, then we¡¯ll do real comparisons. But¡­ give her a few days to adjust, then bring her back here. She¡¯s fragile right now.¡±

    She says those words with such a heavy heart that I have no option but to agree. ¡°Can I talk to her?¡±

    A long pause.

    ¡°Sorry. I¡­ lied a little.¡± Pearl sheepishly looks down. ¡°I¡¯m not done changing Fleur. It¡¯ll be two days before she¡¯s in a place she can talk, four before she can move, and the whole week before she can safely leave my shell. Maybe even longer before she can try interfacing with the salt in the hearts.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at Pearl¡¯s pointless lie. ¡°You know I wouldn¡¯t be mad at that. Why¡¯d you lie?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Honest. It just kind of¡­ happened. But it won¡¯t happen again; I promise. And Shelby¡­ you have to think of a name for Fleur¡¯s species.¡±

    Pearl¡¯s tone shifts from rueful to deadly serious in a single breath. I¡¯m taken aback by the stark difference, and for a moment, all I can do is stare into her eyes. There¡¯s not a single hint in them that she¡¯s screwing with me or over exaggerating the importance of what she just said.

    ¡°Uh, sure, I can do that.¡± I say awkwardly. ¡°Why¡¯s it so important?¡±

    ¡°Because, Shelby¡­ remember what she said?¡± Pearl leans in close, and for the first time in a while, I get a hint of the shellraiser she must¡¯ve been before the system screwed her. ¡°When you saved Fleur, you became her god. You might not understand how important that is right now, but in a week, you¡¯ll understand.¡±

    Pearl shudders, and I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s from fear or pleasure.

    ¡°Living gods always have way too big a burden to carry.¡±

 Chapter 97: Revelations

    Once everything¡¯s said and done, I make my way through March¡¯s portal and find myself in the meeting room. Noland¡¯s chatting with Diane and Razi like the three of them are old friends, but the other two are obviously uncomfortable with the attention they¡¯re getting. Someone brought them electrolyte drinks and energy bars to eat, too, though the only thing that¡¯s been touched is Diane¡¯s purple drink.

    Right now, they¡¯re turned away from me. Noland noticed my entrance, but they didn¡¯t notice him noticing me. I put on a plastic smile, make sure my mouth is closed to hide my teeth, and prepare for the barrage of questions I¡¯m about to be assaulted with.

    ¡°Hey. Haven¡¯t seen you two for a while.¡± I say as I walk up. ¡°Isla told me you¡¯d be coming. Welcome to the resort.¡±

    Diane frowns, but as she turns, her eyes go wide with recognition. ¡°Shelby?!¡±

    ¡°Shelby?¡± Razi asks. His words seem to get stuck in his throat as I walk into view. ¡°I¡­ you¡­ we¡­ how do you know Isla?¡±

    Noland shoots me a questioning glance. I wave him off, pull up a chair, and spin it around so I can lean my arms over the back of it. ¡°Long story short; we were friends before either of us got our classes. She went solo, and I got recruited here. I was surprised when she told me she had people coming, and I was double surprised when I found out it was you two. So what happened? Did you get so strong the Preservation decided you were too dangerous?¡±

    My Class Card flickers to let me know I have a message from Noland. I pull it out as casually as I can while Razi and Diane exchange confused, yet relieved glances. He¡¯s asking who the hell Isla is so he can play along better.

    ¡°Me in one of those anonymity masks.¡± I quickly type back one-handed. ¡°The story is that the client hired Isla and Ursula to do the job, not Ursula and me. I¡¯ve been here all along.¡±

    The moment I send the message, Noland¡¯s eyes flick to the upper right corner of his vision. He reads it quickly, then discreetly gives me a knowing nod. Man, how did I ever work with incompetent people? This is just so much nicer.

    ¡°Did Isla tell you¡­ everything?¡± Diane quietly asks. ¡°About¡­ well¡­ everything?¡±

    Sympathy tints my smile. Something darker tints it even further. ¡°Yeah, she did. If you don¡¯t want to explain it yourself, that¡¯s fine. We¡¯re here to protect you from Brandon Highroller and whoever he¡¯s hiding behind.¡±

    ¡°Did you say Highroller? Those douchebags did something to you two?¡± Noland suddenly cuts in with venom in his voice.

    Razi nods. Diane just squeaks confirmation.

    ¡°Mother¡­ alright, all my questions just got answered with one name. And I¡¯m not happy about it.¡± He grimaces and pulls up a chair of his own, finally joining the conversation on the same level as the rest of us. ¡°Highroller¡¯s on their board of directors, which are pretty much the gods of the Preservation. Speakers are physically stronger most of the time, but the board¡¯s got much more influence over how everything works. I won¡¯t ask how you caught king douchebag¡¯s eye, since it¡¯s probably not a fun story, but I have to ask how high he had to go to screw with you two. Did the name Ernest Highroller come up?¡±

    Diane tilts her head ever so slightly. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think so. He said his dad¡¯s name was Calvin.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and his other dad¡¯s name is Ernest. Biggest bastard I¡¯ve ever laid eyes on, and as cruel as a housecat toying with small forest creatures. Calvin and Ernest are both assholes, and when they got married, they paid some woman to be a surrogate for them. They had two kids this way¨CBrandon and Jennevieve.¡±

    Noland stares off into the distance, like he¡¯s watching a memory none of us can see. ¡°Calvin¡¯s the people person, but Ernest comes out to play when things get really bad. You should be safe if Brandon never called Ernest in, but we¡¯ll have to put you under surveillance when you leave the resort as a precaution anyway.¡±

    ¡°How do you know all this?¡± Razi asks with suspicion.

    ¡°It¡¯s from before I was strong enough to defend myself. When the Preservation was actually worth a damn, and all the maliciously ambitious assholes had to hide in the shadows. Calvin and Ernest slithered out of those shadows before almost anyone else. So, you¡¯ve obviously got questions for us that don¡¯t involve Shelby here or Isla. Fire them at will.¡±

    For close to an hour, Noland and I answer as many questions as we can. My contributions are only about ten percent of the entire thing, but his¡­ well, it almost feels like they¡¯re getting a better introduction than I did. If it wasn¡¯t for the fact that nothing he says is new to me, I would¡¯ve been a little annoyed with it.

    By the time we¡¯re done, and Razi and Diane are well on their way to picking out their rooms, Noland¡¯s barely keeping himself together. His hands shake so much that he has to hold them together, his foot bounces incessantly against the floor, and his gaze constantly drifts to completely empty points in the room. Somehow neither of our guest-hostages noticed.

    ¡°Okay, they¡¯re picking out their rooms now.¡± March says through my headpiece at the same time as she slips through the wall. ¡°It¡¯s safe to really talk. Meaning¡­ Shelby, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    Her words might¡¯ve ended with a question mark, but her body language and tone do nothing to hide her blatant excitement.

    ¡°About Pearl, you mean.¡± I chuckle to myself and gently tap her shell. ¡°How long until Ursula gets back? I don¡¯t want to say this¨C¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    March hurries to the table and nearly slams down a hexagonal¡­ thing. It flickers a few times, and then a holographic projection of Ursula sitting in the pilot¡¯s seat of the helicopter¨Ccolour and all¨Cstabilizes so close to reality that I do a double-take.

    ¡°This close enough, Gambler? Oh, wait, I gotta secure the line if we¡¯re gonna talk about secrets. Give me¡­ ten seconds¡­¡± She trails off and leans out of the projection, then comes right back in with a cube of fluctuating blue material. With a press of her palm, the hologram flickers, then comes back up with a little more static. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re all good. So, before we dip into whatever revelation I¡¯m not aware of, I¡¯ve got a little report of my own.¡±

    Ursula clears her throat for emphasis. ¡°When the krarig disappeared, all the Preservation people had already evacuated. Save for two people, who the comms listed as ¡®unintended casualties¡¯. So good for you, Shelby, you got the anonymity you were looking for. Makes me wonder, though; how the hell did you teleport the krarig?¡±

    I blow out a confused breath and wheel my chair closer to the table. ¡°Hell if I know. Even if Noland supercharged the spells, it shouldn¡¯t have done that. Maybe it has something to do with the krarig coming alive; that could¡¯ve made my other targets be seen as a part of the whole, so it took the krarig with it.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think that¡¯d work.¡± Noland shakes his head and scoots in next to me. ¡°If I put a teleportation spell on a heart that someone was going to get as a transplant, and then they get it, my spell wouldn¡¯t suddenly change targets to the person. I¡¯d have to manually change the targets. And judging by your reaction, you definitely weren¡¯t manually changing the targets.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, definitely not.¡± I vigorously agree. ¡°Fleur got screwed because of it, and the resort was in way too much danger. Hell, you should''ve felt the spells when you took them over, right?¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh, I did. And there was something in there that felt like a skill, but it was also yours. So I ignored it.¡± He crosses his arms and makes a pillow out of them, then lays his head down on the table. ¡°If you did something, you didn¡¯t do it consciously. I¡¯d be pissed if you were a veteran like us, but you probably haven¡¯t had enough time to mess around with your skills and see how they really work. When you¡¯re done with this job, I recommend taking the rest of your time before the other world calls you back to do just that.¡±

    A slight shiver races down my spine. I¡­ don¡¯t know why. But something in the back of my mind tells me that he¡¯s right¨Cthat a part of my skill I didn¡¯t account for is the reason the krarig appeared instead of the hearts. Though, honestly, I don¡¯t even know how High Stakes could¡¯ve done anything to my coins. And the last time I used Twist Fate was days ago. There¡¯s no way its effects are still ongoing.

    ¡­Right?

    The bad sensations only get worse as I focus more and more on Twist Fate. But now¡¯s not the time to worry about that. I¡¯ll just have to be careful the next time I activate it. Just in case it messes with more of my spell coins. And¡­ I need to find out how long it lasts. Does it depend on how likely an outcome is? If something¡¯s almost set in stone, could it twist fate for months down the line?

    I shake my head. ¡°I¡¯ll find out everything I can. And I¡¯ve got a feeling about where I should start looking.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. I¡¯m going to stop talking now, but I¡¯m going to be paying attention the entire time.¡± Noland yawns wide, and a sheen of sleep falls over his eyes. ¡°Just in case¡­ March, can you record this conversation so I could rewatch it later?¡±

    March rolls her eyes, but gives Noland a thumbs-up anyway.

    ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t want video proof of¡­ you know who.¡± I emphasize heavily with a raise of my eyebrows. ¡°What if the system puts out a bounty for her? One leaked video and I¡¯m never safe again.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry. I¡¯ve got recording software on a computer with an air gap to any kind of network. The only way someone would steal the video is over my dead body.¡± March assures me with a small, almost shy smile. ¡°Pearl is completely safe here. We all are. It¡¯s the only reason we feel confident enough to relax every now and again.¡±

    Some part of me wants to distrust them. But ever since I got here, that part¡¯s been getting quieter and quieter. Now it¡¯s screaming as loud as it can, desperate not to be shoved off into the dark recesses of my mind. It¡¯s scared that I¡¯m getting too trusting. Even though it¡¯s not even true. I¡¯m just¡­ choosing a few people I want to throw my hat in with. On the other world, that was Illumisia and Pearl. Now it¡¯s Ursula, Noland, and March.

    My shellraiser side and my Worth class side. Guess it¡¯s finally time to open up.

    ¡°Alright. Yeah. I trust you guys.¡± I say slowly and nod to Pearl. ¡°Come on out. They want to meet you.¡±

    Pearl turns away from what I assume is a conversation with Fleur. She¡¯s got the same reluctant aura that I know I have, but she steels herself far faster than I did. Confidence and bubbly anticipation flow out of her in equal amounts, and she steps towards her shell¡¯s opening.

    Everyone, even the half-asleep Noland, leans in close as two cosmic black feet underneath a long dress pops out of the shell. March giggles in delight as the rest of Pearl quickly follows, exposing the shellraiser to other humans for the first time. Well, second, but close enough.

    ¡°Um, hello, everyone!¡± Pearl waves shyly. ¡°You don¡¯t really know me, but I¡¯ve seen everything you¡¯re capable of through Shelby. And I want you to know you guys were real jerks to her when you went to recruit her at her apartment.¡±

    She harrumphs and plants her hands on her hips. ¡°That¡¯s not a good way to build trust with someone. In fact, it¡¯s probably at least ten percent of the reason Shelby took so long to introduce me in the first place!¡±

    ¡°Ten percent isn¡¯t a lot.¡± March points out.

    ¡°It is a lot! Especially when the other ninety percent is way more important!¡± Pearl quips back. ¡°I¡¯m a shellraiser. The system hates my kind more than it does Worth classes, and you should know how much hate that is!¡±

    Ursula chuckles reluctantly. ¡°Not to be a bitch, but I¡¯m pretty damn sure the system hates Worth classes more than anything else.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Which is why you¡¯ve only seen shellraiser ruins and herd myths of us. Because the system loves shellraisers so much that it killed off anywhere from most to all but one of us.¡± Pearl says with sickly sweet sarcasm. ¡°The system kills you off. It turned me into a quest item, completely screwed with my sense of time, and imprisoned my friend using our contract as a prison.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like different kinds of hate to me.¡± March murmurs.

    Pearl considers that for a second, then nods. ¡°I think you¡¯re right. But why don¡¯t Shelby and I tell you everything that happened to us, then you can make your own decisions? How about it, Shelby?¡±

    I nod in agreement and lean back in my chair. ¡°Alright. Well, you already know some of this, but it all started with a shellraiser-made teleporter that I thought was a dangerous laser¡­¡±

 Chapter 98: Aftermath

    Time flies by. Five minutes of talking stretches into ten, then thirty, and slowly but surely hours pass by with nothing but the sounds of all our voices to entertain us. At some point March orders pizza for everyone, but even that can¡¯t slow down the speed of my storytelling. Hell, even Noland, who looked like he was seconds from meeting the sandman manages to hold on for the entire ordeal.

    As I speak, somehow, I grow more confident. My words come easier, my descriptions become increasingly detailed and scene-setting, and I get a little into character when I relay important things people like Illumisia, Clutter, or Nib said to me. Questions and more than a few back-and-forths regarding things neither me nor Pearl have all the information on stall the story for quite a while, but eventually, the story collides with the moment March connected to us on the krarig and felt Pearl¡¯s existence for the first time.

    ¡°Beyond that, you guys know pretty much everything else.¡± I say with a small shrug, then go for a bite of cold pizza. ¡°Just in case it wasn¡¯t clear enough, my awareness comes from Pearl. And when my body got remade, it supercharged my awareness.¡±

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s clear. You repeated it six times for me because I couldn¡¯t believe you.¡± Noland snorts with self-deprecation. ¡°Your story of dying meshes with a description I read from some guy who got a one-time use skill that revived him after dying, too, so it just adds even more credibility to everything.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Now all we don¡¯t know is pretty much what you don¡¯t know.¡± Ursula leans back in her hologram, her own meal a pitiful mass of wrappers compared to our pizza feast. ¡°I¡¯m still a little skeptical that Illumisia¡¯s as strong as you claim she is, though; high identification costs like that can come from warding spells, skills, or relics.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Illumisia¡¯s insanely powerful!¡± Pearl cuts in from atop a paper plate, remnants of grease and sauce surrounding her like bloodstains. ¡°I saw the krarig. Even if I don¡¯t have all my memories, I know Illumisia¡¯s stronger than it is.¡±

    Noland lazily waves a hand, all his vitality draining as there¡¯s no more story to listen to. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I believe you, little mythical creature. We all do, really, we¡¯re just kind of scared shitless if it¡¯s actually true. Since it means almost everything we dismissed as stories and legends might actually be real.¡±

    Pearl huffs and crosses her arms. ¡°Just get strong enough so they don¡¯t kill you. That¡¯s what Illumisia said I did, and look at me! The system couldn¡¯t kill me, so it turned me into a quest item instead.¡±

    ¡°No offense, but I don¡¯t really think that¡¯s better.¡± March quietly says. ¡°It means the system could actually contain you, right? So it had to put you in some kind of scenario where you agreed to be contained, or it was so strong it just didn¡¯t care enough to kill you.¡±

    With grumbling acceptance, Pearl reaches for a slice of pizza-shaped cookie and begins to devour it. I watch her for a few seconds, but before long, my own questions start to bubble up. Questions I couldn¡¯t ask anyone else without threatening Pearl¡¯s safety. But now that they know¡­ what¡¯s the harm?

    ¡°So none of you have ever seen a living shellraiser before this? None at all?¡± I scan the room for reactions, and they all give me their own version of confirmation. ¡°Wow. Alright. How about shellraiser towns, art, machines? Anything like that?¡±

    Ursula nods, but it isn¡¯t very confident. ¡°We¡¯ve seen a few ruins in the field. And you said it yourself; most machines people find are post-shellraiser using their designs. True shellraiser tech seems to be lost to time, save for apparently the Preservation for some godforsaken reason.¡±

    ¡°And us now, too.¡± March happily interrupts as she swoons over the schematics Pearl has gathered. ¡°With all your descriptions, I should be able to put together a blueprint for a workshop. One big enough to make anything we want. Ooh, and with the greenhouse for everdriftwood, all we¡¯ll need is the right kind of sand and shells¡­¡±

    March trails off, and I know she¡¯s going to be in her own little world for a while. The soft sound of Noland¡¯s breaths reach my ears next, and when I turn to look at him, he¡¯s completely zonked out. Complete with drool leaking out from one side of his mouth and a slightly awkward sleeping position.

    ¡°Let him sleep. His skills take more out of him than they do pretty much anyone else for some reason.¡± Ursula sighs and shakes her head, then looks wistfully out of her window. ¡°We won this battle, Shelby, but it feels like we just realized how bloody the war is going to be. Hell, we just realized that there¡¯s going to be a war at all. Don¡¯t know if it''s going to happen in a day, or a month, or even a decade, but I can guarantee that it''s going to happen.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°We probably just pushed the start date back at least a year, but next time, the Preservatoin¡¯s going to do their experiments where nobody can find them. Maybe the subwyrm infestation is their doing, too. No¨CI¡¯d bet money on it that it¡¯s their doing. They found out about it before anyone, evacuated everyone, and kept it a ghost town.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that is really suspicious.¡± Pearl looks up from her cookie and swallows hard. ¡°They have our mech design, and they¡¯re using our tech like it¡¯s meant to be used¨Cjust a little weaker, since they don¡¯t have the right material and power sources. Why would they need to breed apocalypse monsters if they already have all that?¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know.¡± Ursula laughs. ¡°Maybe some internal politics bullshit, or maybe they¡¯re two different branches of the organization. Fact is that they¡¯re doing it, and we don¡¯t have the firepower right now to oppose them. Honestly, I bet nobody on Earth does.¡±

    Pearl balls her fists and huffs with confidence. ¡°Then we¡¯ll just get way more firepower! March can make a factory, we can make a lot of machines, and once I get strong enough, I can write programs so they¡¯ll fight for us!¡±

    ¡°But that all hinges on you getting stronger. Which also probably means Shelby has to get stronger.¡± Ursula locks eyes with me, and even though the hologram, I can feel her intensity. ¡°When you go back to the other world, don¡¯t come back to Earth until you¡¯re strong enough. More than strong enough, actually, since the only way you¡¯ll be safe leaving the resort in a few months is with one of us escorting you. Think you can do that, Shelby?¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    A grin passes over my lips. ¡°That¡¯s what I was already planning to do. Plus, I found out that my relocation is only messed up by magical interference¨Cnot distance. There¡¯s a chance I¡¯ll be able to use it to come and go without the system interfering.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, good luck with that.¡± Ursula snorts. ¡°We¡¯ve all had thoughts like that before. None of ¡®em have worked so far, but if yours ends up being the one that does, then I¡¯ll have Noland buy you a mid-sized country. Maybe¡­ Japan or Korea. There¡¯s a lot of apocalyptic action around those places.¡±

    I can¡¯t really tell if she¡¯s being sarcastic or not. Honestly, I¡¯m leaning towards ¡®not¡¯, which kind of scares me.

    Ursula locks her fingers together and presses her arms forward to stretch. ¡°Well, looks like we¡¯re done for the day anyway. I¡¯m still a few hours out from the mainland, so I¡¯ll hit you up tomorrow morning and we can go over the plan to get the client their coins. And you have to get ready for your meeting with Call¨Cyou going as Shelby or Isla?¡±

    ¡°Shelby. Or Gambler, more specifically.¡± I answer immediately. ¡°It¡¯ll mean more if he sees a Worth class there. Can one of you watch over me so he doesn¡¯t, you know, instantly murder me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I can do that. Anything else before I cut the feed?¡±

    I think for a few seconds, but nothing really comes to mind. ¡°Nope, I think we¡¯re¨C¡±

    ¡°Oh, Shelby! You¡¯re forgetting the coins!¡± Pearl reminds me with a smack on my arm. ¡°Remember the notes in the safe? Did the client even know they exist?¡±

    ¡°Shit, right, good call.¡± I gently rub Pearl¡¯s head, and she giggles in appreciation. ¡°Ursula, we found these weird coins in the safe with the ones the client wanted. Identification told me they were class coins, but that they were tampered with and lost all their abilities.¡±

    While I speak, I pull the mutilated coins out for Ursula to see. She leans in close to get a better look, so I move them closer to what I assume is the hologram¡¯s camera. A frown crosses her face as she studies them, and she almost reaches out to touch one, but stops herself short. Something ghastly shudders through her entire body, and whatever she was about to say dies on her lips.

    ¡°Shit, I don¡¯t know what that means.¡± She murmurs. ¡°I honest to God had no idea it was possible to destroy a class coin. Could¡­ could you destroy a Worth coin and kill the class that way? Or would that trigger the system¡¯s rule and make another appear somewhere?¡±

    Ursula raises a hand to cover her mouth as she quietly speaks to herself. I can¡¯t make out much of it, but what I did pretty much just repeats her concerns. Suddenly, the coins in my hand feel infinitely heavier from the mere possibility that one¨Cor more¨Cof them could be one of the remaining Worth classes. And even worse¨Cthat someone on Earth would¡¯ve destroyed them.

    It would mean someone¨Cmaybe even the entire Preservation¨Cwas working directly with the system. And that all us Worth classes were in far greater danger than we ever thought possible.

    Feeling the need to put words into the emptiness, I open my mouth. ¡°I mean, there¡¯s a chance they¡¯re not Worth classes. Or¡­ just because they were tampered with, doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t recover them somehow. Someone has to have a spell that¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ reverses an object¡¯s time. We could fix the coins that way.¡±

    ¡°...Yeah. Yeah, you¡¯re right. It¡¯s too early to jump to the worst conclusion.¡± Ursula steadies herself and nods down at the coins. ¡°I¡¯ll take a look at ¡®em when I get back. Even if they look completely blank now, there has to be some kind of trace of the class they once were. Best case scenario, they¡¯re random classes that have nothing to do with Worth. Worst case¡­ we¡¯re stuck with five Worth classes total.¡±

    I swallow hard at the grim acceptance in Ursula¡¯s voice. Pearl shudders, too, and stares at the coins with concern. Nobody speaks for a few long seconds until Ursula coughs to break the silence.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s it for me for tonight. We can theorize more in person. See the two of you soon. You too, March.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm, bye.¡± March waves absentmindedly.

    Ursula chuckles to herself, then cuts the feed. I reach an arm out for Pearl to scurry up, then push out of my chair and make my way to my room. Being able to sleep without worrying about dying is going to be a nice change of pace.

    But it doesn¡¯t change the fact that I¡¯m putting myself in yet more danger very, very soon.

    <hr>

    A week passes in a blur of advancement. March gets started on a dozen different projects, Noland contacts the client and sets a meeting date for a day after my meeting with Call, and Ursula works with me to test out my spells and skills. Fleur¡­ takes a lot longer than we thought to get better. Even now, she can¡¯t talk to me, and hasn¡¯t left Pearl¡¯s shell. She assures me it isn¡¯t because she¡¯s angry at me, but something nags at me and tells me it¡¯s my fault.

    Before I even know it, the time comes. Ursula drops me off, I leave a message at the exact location I told Call to wait for me at, and make my way back to familiar scenery.

    While I suck in breaths of the dust-filled air of my destroyed hometown, my eyes scan the horizon for any signs of Call. Ursula is somewhere in the distance, our conversation cut short by her own announcement that a Preservation signal had appeared a minute ago. I take a deep breath through my nose and fiddle with a relocation coin in my pocket, filled with the request I¡¯m going to give Call in exchange for my silence.

    ¡°Signal approaching.¡± Ursula¡¯s voice crackles into my ear. ¡°No obvious aggressive spells, but with those suits, you can never really tell until they¡¯re launching ¡®em at you. Stay on your toes. Mercenary out.¡±

    I nod slightly and lean against my old apartment building. All the units on the top floor are ninety percent gone, and most of the ones on the ground floor have been run through by the subwyrms. It feels weird looking into living rooms, bedrooms, and bathrooms from the outside¨Cparts of people¡¯s everyday lives dirtied with debris and left to rot. It¡¯s the kind of thing you expect to see in a war movie or a documentary.

    But¡­ I guess this is how it starts. Abandonment and destruction. Just with a more apocalyptic and magical cause this time.

    ¡°Shelby, I can feel him now.¡± Pearl whispers. ¡°He¡¯s moving really fast, and he¡¯s alone.¡±

    ¡°Good. Hopefully this can end without bloodshed.¡± I whisper right back. ¡°Stay in your shell and don¡¯t come out. The Preservation can¡¯t learn about you.¡±

    She nods from inside of her shell, then turns right back to where I assume Fleur is. I reach up and brush a few grains of salt off her shell while I focus my attention solely on the sensation Pearl is feeding me. Call is moments away. Depending on how this goes, I¡¯m either going to get a willing ally, a begrudging hostage, or an enemy I¡¯ll regret for the rest of my life.

    My awareness traces him as he rounds the corner. I flick my eyes to him and nod slightly towards one of the destroyed ground floor apartments. He starts to talk, but I speak over him with the confidence I know I need to project for this to work.

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about how willing you are to betray the Preservation.¡±

 Chapter 99: My Own Personal Spy

    Carefully and cautiously, Call makes his way through the rubble to stand across from me over the remains of a kitchen table. He slowly takes in the destruction, but with his face covered by his helmet, I can¡¯t get any hints about how it makes him feel.

    ¡°You probably already know thanks to your organization, but I¡¯m the Gambler.¡± I say and put three coins down on the table. ¡°First encounter I had with the Preservation was them trying to attack me after I killed a dragonjet. So imagine my surprise when an old friend calls me up and tells me that someone from the Preservation is coming to talk with me.¡±

    I tap one coin, and projectile flows down into it. Then I move down the line, putting shield and relocation into the other two. Call¡¯s helmet moves ever so slightly to follow my fingers, but other than that, it almost feels like I don¡¯t have his attention.

    ¡°Hey, buddy, if you don¡¯t want to be here, I¡¯m not going to make you.¡± I lean back and cross my arms. ¡°I¡¯ve got two living ex-Preservation members back at the resort who¡¯re more than happy to be gone. That¡¯s not enough to convince anyone to raise their eyebrows at the Preservation, but when I combine it with the info we extracted from the krarig, it starts to paint a really shitty picture.¡±

    Call snorts. Can¡¯t tell if it''s amusement, agreement, or dismissal. But he doesn¡¯t look away.

    ¡°Alright, this is going nowhere.¡± I clap my hands together and wave to empty air, pretending to signal Ursula. ¡°Mercenary, we¡¯re done here.¡±

    ¡°No, wait¨C¡± Call sighs and shakes his head. It¡¯s his voice, all right, but technically I shouldn¡¯t know that. ¡°Alright. I had to confirm that you aren¡¯t someone else from the Preservation here to honey trap me. That¡¯s why you put the coins down, right?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d notice so quickly. So, satisfied that I¡¯m not from the Preservation? Or do I have to bring more proof?¡±

    He raises a hand to paw at the back of his helmet. ¡°No, there¡¯s only one account of a Gambler coin existing. You. But if we¡¯re doing this face to face, you¡¯ll need confirmation that I am who I claim to be.¡±

    Hisses of slightly coloured air break free from Call¡¯s helmet as he pulls it apart at the back. It folds in on itself over and over again until only the glassy faceplate remains. Finally, he presses his other palm to the chunk of darkened glass and slowly pulls it away with a wet pop.

    Revealing a face that is¡­ not what I expected at all. A nearly bald head with an extremely thin layer of fuzzy brown hair lined with so many scars that I can¡¯t imagine what could¡¯ve made them. Both of his eyebrows are fuzzy like caterpillars, and they rest atop yellow-blue eyes that always seem to cover half his irises. A close-cropped beard finishes off his face, with some fuzz around the shaved parts.

    And¡­ the top of his right ear is unbelievably mangled. Like a small dog bit onto it and didn¡¯t let go until part of it ripped off. Call watches me take him in, but I know what¡¯s written on my face; surprise. Nothing more, nothing less. Somehow, that drains tension from his shoulders and he lets out a sigh of relief.

    ¡°No questions about the scars, please. It¡¯s personal.¡±

    I shrug nonchalantly. ¡°We¡¯re here for business, anyway. Now that you¡¯re talking, I need to know how far you¡¯re willing to take this. Are we going to be rescuing people like Diane and Razi, exposing the Preservation¡¯s crimes to the world, or actually moving to sabotage their¨Cyour¨Coperations?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go as far as it needs to go. If that means we peacefully remove the rot higher up, then we do that. But if we have to burn everything to the ground because the rot¡¯s spread through everything, then I¡¯ll set the trail of gunpowder as long as you bring the matches.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Good answers.¡± I flick the relocation coin at Call. He catches it easily. ¡°Eventually, you¡¯re going to get discovered. That coin is your lifeline. Accept the spell in it, and if things go so wrong that there¡¯s no hope left for you in the Preservation, I¡¯ll save your life. Though you¡¯ve gotta send me a message first.¡±

    He stares at the coin for a little too long. Honestly, I can¡¯t blame him. The moment he accepts that spell, he¡¯s a traitor. If he hands it back empty, he can run away and go back to the Preservation like nothing ever happened. By taking it, he¡¯s opening a door to a hallway he can¡¯t even imagine the end of.

    ¡°How many of these coins can you have at once?¡±

    Okay, not the question I was expecting. I exhale through my nose and try to weigh the feeling of a relocation coin against what I¡¯m pretty sure is my absolute limit.

    ¡°Ten at once without screwing over everything else. Why?¡±

    He nods to himself and accepts the relocation target. Then¡­ he sticks it in his pocket. So he doesn¡¯t know how the spell works.

    ¡°There¡¯s a group of kids that are being¡­ groomed¡­ to take on Class Coins when they¡¯re old enough.¡± Call says with utter vitriol. ¡°Experiments by our scientists to test out if compatibility with a Class matters at all. Each and every one of them was orphaned by one disaster or another, and if it goes on like this, they¡¯re going to be loyal Preservation slaves.¡±

    ¡°And you want more of those coins so I can get them out of there.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I do.¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Not how it works. The coin trades places with whatever it touched to activate, and I can¡¯t force people to accept being targets without spending a good chunk of Worth. So you¡¯d have to bring in a bunch of empty coins, designate all the kids as targets, and sneak back to me so I can bring them here. Plus, I¡¯m not so hot on teleporting in a bunch of potentially brainwashed teenagers. Who knows if one of them would betray us to the Preservation?¡±

    Call clenches his jaw, but I can see that he agrees with me. Though something made him bring it up in the first place. Probably personal stakes, or just a clashing sense of values with whoever¡¯s running the¡­ I guess they¡¯re experiments.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ reasonable.¡± He grinds through clenched teeth. Frustration radiates from him like a miniature sun, but from the way he glances away from me, that frustration is at the Preservation. ¡°How about¡­ I feed you information as I watch the kids. Your group can decide if they look like they¡¯re going to be dangerous or not, and I¡¯ll only move the ones that are safe to move.¡±

    ¡°Nope. The moment kids start to go missing, your cover¡¯s dead. Either you do it like we did with Diane and Razi¨Cwriting them off as believably dead¨Cor moving the kids is the start of a massive attack.¡± I lean in and show just a little of my teeth. Call doesn¡¯t flinch¨Cbut I can see just a little fear seep into his posture. ¡°So how about it, Call? Can you manufacture a scenario that fools the researchers into thinking all the kids are dead? Do you have enough influence in the Preservation for that?¡±

    He looks down at his feet. I suppress a laugh.

    ¡°So that¡¯s a no, then. Well, that¡¯s not a problem¨Cyou just have to get powerful enough to make it a reality. All the while making sure the Preservation doesn¡¯t catch on to what you¡¯re doing. Easy enough.¡±

    ¡°If it was, then I would¡¯ve done it years ago. I¡­ wasn¡¯t strong or influential enough for my voice to be heard. Even if they call me a speaker.¡± He nearly spits the word, and when he raises his gaze, fire burns in his eyes. ¡°Three years. I can get strong enough in three years, and all the while I¡¯ll feed you information that¡¯ll help you slow down the Preservation¡¯s plans. But I¡¯ll still need a few of those coins to help people like Diane and Razi¨Cthe ones who¡¯re in actual, immediate danger.¡±

    I¡¯m sure the three year time limit has nothing to do with when those kids are supposed to be given their Class Coins. But this is one thing I feel doesn¡¯t have to be said. Call¡¯s emboldened himself to our cause. We¡¯ve got a high-ish ranking spy and saboteur who only plans on getting more important and powerful to fulfill a goal only I can provide him.

    I fan out five more relocation coins between my fingers. ¡°Five coins. Contact me when you need someone moved as soon as possible and we¡¯ll set up a meeting time. Here¡¯s my info, and in a few minutes, I¡¯ll send you a link to an untraceable network where you¡¯ll upload the info you find.¡±

    He stares at the coins like a man about to die of thirst would look at ice cubes. ¡°I¡¯m not going to do anything that¡¯ll blow my cover, even if you ask me to.¡±

    ¡°No point in doing this if we¡¯re just going to blow your cover.¡± I place the coins on the table, but leave my hand covering them. ¡°We don¡¯t just want info, we want samples of everything you can safely get your hands on. Tech, materials, whatever¨Cif the Preservation doesn¡¯t want someone else having it, we want it. I expect you to contact us once a month on a random day, even if you just report that you¡¯ve got nothing to report, and I want to know every time you¡¯re moving between worlds.¡±

    Call can¡¯t take his eyes off my hand. ¡°That¡¯s no problem at all.¡±

    I nod and slowly pull my hand away. ¡°Then they¡¯re yours. If it''s possible, send me someone¡¯s profile before I have to bring them over. Long distances can be disorienting, so it¡¯ll be good to know what to expect. And finally, this.¡±

    One final coin, filled with a relocation that harbors untold destruction, joins the pile.

    ¡°That¡¯s the absolute last resort for if the Preservation tries to destroy the world. Do not use it for any other reason.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡± He says as he eagerly scoops up all the coins. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡­Thank you? What the hell does he have to thank me for? I load up a question on the tip of my tongue, but before I can get it out, his eyes start to water. He laughs to himself and wipes one eye, then the other, and carefully puts the coins into a compartment in his armor.

    ¡°I never even considered this was an option, you know. The Preservation was always the best in my head, and when I saw the heinous things they were doing¡­ I just sort of¡­ accepted that everyone else was worse.¡± He breathes deeply and smiles brightly, though it feels very melancholic. ¡°Now all that time¡­ just feels wasted. But now I can actually do something with it. Maybe there¡¯s a chance I can get the Preservation back to what I always thought it was.¡±

    A huge part of me supremely doubts that. But it doesn¡¯t feel like the right time to say it. I don¡¯t know Call for shit, and we¡¯re about to use each other for our own ends. Hell, there¡¯s a good chance he¡¯s going to get caught and maybe even executed before three years is up. Probably better that I keep an air gap in our relationship.

    ¡°Just go. I can see how antsy you are.¡± I wave him off and take back my two remaining coins. ¡°I¡¯ve got an appointment I need to get ready for, and you need to do whatever the hell you need to do. So go do it.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ yes.¡± He takes his mask off the table and presses it back to his face. It unfurls into a helmet in no time. ¡°Thank you. Seriously. You won¡¯t regret this.¡±

    Then, without so much as looking over his shoulder, Call sprints out of here like a kid on christmas. There¡¯s definitely more of a story there than he told me, but it¡¯s not good to get invested in someone I might have to sacrifice if things go horribly wrong. I assume it¡¯s the same reason he didn¡¯t ask anything personal about me at all.

    ¡°Aaand he¡¯s gone.¡± Ursula finally speaks up a few minutes later. ¡°That went way better than I expected it would. You want to head back to the resort right away, or is there something you want to do in the rubble?¡±

    I don¡¯t even look around before I walk out of the ruins and into the debris-filled street. ¡°There¡¯s nothing here for me anymore. Besides, we¡¯re meeting the client in a few days. Then we¡¯ve got an entire¡­ party, or whatever, we¡¯re supposed to escort her to.¡±

    ¡°True, true.¡± Ursula says, then turns to look at me as I relocate back to the resort. ¡°Welcome back.¡±

    I roll my eyes at her sarcasm and hold out an arm for Pearl to scurry down. She hops onto the meeting table where everyone¡¯s already sitting down, waiting for us to get back from our little trip. I pull out my designated chair, settle into it as Pearl sits down on a tiny chair March made for her, and turn to face the screens.

    I¡¯ve finally got somewhere I feel actually comfortable being. And I won¡¯t let anything take that away.

 Chapter 100: A Prelude to High Society

    A comparably short chunk of time flies by. Everything¡¯s a blur of motivations, consequences, and potential as Pearl and I get ready to deal with our next problem; the coins we took from the krarig. Not just the two we were hired for, either; the broken coins were found in the safe alongside them. It¡¯d be plain stupid to assume the client isn¡¯t at least a little aware of how they got this way.

    I flick the two coins¨Cdefender and psychic¨Cthrough my fingers as I wait in line for one of the resort¡¯s all inclusive salons. Hair, nails, makeup, clothes¨Cnormally they¡¯d be different places, but this isn¡¯t a normal place. Because there¡¯s only ever five clients who walk into here. And all of us have Worth classes.

    A short, brown-skinned woman with henna tattoos all down her arms and bright yellow lipstick and eyeliner pokes her head out of the door and pouts at me. ¡°I told you that you don¡¯t have to wait here. March will be done in half an hour, and then we¡¯ll have space for you.¡±

    ¡°Eh, I¡¯ve got nowhere better to be.'''' I shrug and offer her a small, closed-mouth smile. ¡°How¡¯s it coming with Ursula and Noland?¡±

    She sighs and steps out into the sun with me, closing the glass door behind her. ¡°Long, just like we thought it would be. What¡¯s with the difference in treatments? Why¡¯s March getting so much less than the rest of you?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°The answer should be really obvious if you think about it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about obvious; my brain¡¯s filled with trying to match your outfits for a party and a client I know nothing about.¡±

    ¡°Fair. March isn¡¯t going to the same place as Ursula and I. Noland¡¯s getting made up as a backup in case he needs to make a rush entrance.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ wait¡­ aren¡¯t you just meeting the client today?¡± The woman pulls a carton of what looks like cigarettes out of her pocket, then pulls out a stick of¡­ chalk? She scribbles something on her hand, and somehow, her skin acts like a chalkboard. Then she closes her hand around it, and the words she wrote just disappear.

    ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡±

    ¡°Oh, this?¡± She holds up her hand and pulls in her fingers. ¡°Sending some notes to the chalkboard in there. It¡¯s not a really powerful teleportation spell, but I¡¯ve found some good uses for it. Did you change the topic on purpose?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°No, just got distracted. Yeah, we¡¯re meeting the client today, and the actual party¡¯s not for a little bit. But Ursula said we should prepare this beforehand, and I don¡¯t really have any knowledge about this to contradict her.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s all Ursula¡¯s idea? That makes sense; she¡¯ll be able to reproduce this stuff on the day of easily. It¡¯s nice to know she still can¡¯t make the clothes without our help, though; it means we get to keep our cushy jobs for a little while longer!¡±

    The woman giggles, like it¡¯s a joke, but something tells me she¡¯s dead serious. If Ursula and the others trust her for pretty much everything clothing or personal aesthetic-related, then it must be worth keeping her away from everyone else the rest of the time.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried your skills will get dull if you sit around so much?¡±

    She raises an eyebrow. ¡°Ah, right, you¡¯re still pretty new here. Well, go try getting a haircut somewhere or have a dress fitted. There¡¯s a good chance one of my simulacrums will help you. I might not use my hands every day, but I hone my skills more than anyone else here. Except for you Worths, of course.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, of course.¡± I snort in amusement. From what I¡¯ve seen, honing skills is about third on everyone¡¯s list of priorities. ¡°Oh, right, I didn¡¯t catch your name.¡±

    ¡°Sami.¡± She says and extends a hand. ¡°Yes, no last or middle name. I threw them out when I came here.¡±

    I accept her hand and shake it firmly. ¡°Sami, huh? I¡¯m Shelby. Good to be on a first name basis with you.¡±

    ¡°Likewise.¡± Sami smiles, then shoulders open the door once more. ¡°Five more minutes and March is done. Wait out there for all I care, just don¡¯t complain to me if you get a little sunburnt.¡±

    ¡°No worries about that. My skin¡¯s weird as hell.¡± I pat my forearm for emphasis, and Sami shoots me an inquisitive glance as she ducks back into her shop.

    I lean in a little to get a better look. March, Ursula, and Nolan are each in a different part, and each of them is being worked on by an almost-clone of Sami. Except the clones have much more washed out colours, pure white eyes, and lines around the joints like a doll would. My immediate assumption is that Sami is some kind of summoner, but if the simulacrums are physical things, something like an artificer might be more applicable.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°She¡¯s weird. Um, I mean in a good way. Like you!¡± Pearl says from inside of her shell. ¡°It felt like her attention was split fifty different ways while we were talking, but she seemed like she could work perfectly through it. I mean, I could do it with my awareness, but she must be pretty powerful to do it with just what the system gave her.¡±

    Can¡¯t help but agree with that. If she¡¯s actually controlling all the simulacrums at once, then she¡¯s damn impressive. But¡­ she¡¯s using that skill to run a bunch of boutiques and salons. The Preservation wouldn¡¯t allow that for a second, that¡¯s for sure. I guess that¡¯s the draw of the resort, though; freedom to do what you want with your class. Not everyone wants to fight to save the world, after all.

    Some people just want to¡­ live. ¡°How¡¯s Fleur doing? Can I¡­ talk to her yet?¡±

    ¡°Nope. It¡¯s been really slow going, but I finally managed to get a real answer out of her. And guess what?¡± Pearl plants her hands on her hips and beams with pride. ¡°It¡¯s because Fleur took to the changes so well that she wanted to go slowly and do everything perfectly! When she can finally come out, you won¡¯t even recognize her!¡±

    I¡¯m going to choose to take that as a good thing. March has stabilized the krarig stuff for weeks, but she¡¯s been getting antsy about something getting apocalypse-touched any day now. Especially since she¡¯s going back to the other world before the party even happens. I promised her that Fleur will have everything under control but with how long she¡¯s taking to just get out of Pearl¡¯s shell¡­ now I¡¯m not as sure as I need to be.

    Before I can start really feeling guilty, the door swings open and out trots March. Instead of the high society looks Ursula, NOland, and I are going to be forced to wear, she¡¯s got incredibly well fitting jeans, a hoodie with unreadable graffiti text over the chest, and bright pink shoes that look unbelievably comfortable. She runs a hand through short-cropped hair and smiles to herself, then walks off towards the main building without even acknowledging me.

    ¡°She¡­ didn¡¯t even see me, did she?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Pearl giggles. ¡°She¡¯s right back in her own world. It must mean she¡¯s really focused on finding something good for our materials, right?¡±

    ¡­Sure. Let¡¯s go with that. Sami sticks her head out the door and motions for me to come inside, and with one last glance at March, I step into the last step of preparation to deal with the client. No more tomorrows. No more ¡®when I see her¡¯. It¡¯s all going down just a few hours from now.

    As I step out of my shoes and follow Sami towards a rack full of fabrics, I¡¯m almost worried about how not worried I am. Part of me feels like this should be anxiety-worthy. Another part of me is annoyed that I have to do all this bullshit for someone greedy like¡­ uh¡­ damn, I really should¡¯ve memorized the client¡¯s name.

    Welp, guess I¡¯ve got one more thing to do after Sami makes me presentable.

    <hr>

    A file falls into my lap and my eyes flutter open. The sound of scissors and Sami¡¯s pleasant humming comes from right behind me, and little bits of my hair flutter down to the ground around me. I blink away the sleep and rub an eye with one hand while grabbing the file with the other.

    ¡°Is this all the info on the client?¡±

    Ursula nods as an amused smile traces over her lips. ¡°Updated with info we pulled from the krarig and from actually digging around a little more. You don¡¯t have to memorize all of it¨Chell, you know I didn¡¯t¨Cbut zone in on some key points to make it look like you did. This client¡¯s going to be a major pain.¡±

    ¡°Gisela Garza. Right.¡± I mutter to myself as I finally remember the name associated with the face. ¡°Current CEO of Garza Industrial, which is a name you made up for the nameless overlord of all the other corporations she actually owns. Huh, damn, that¡¯s a long list of corporations.¡±

    ¡°Yup. Ninety-five percent of every new and rebuilt effort that came out of Mexico is owned by Garza Industrial. She¡¯s been working her way into south america and the rest of north america slowly but surely, though the Preservation¡¯s been on her ass multiple times.¡±

    I hum in thought as I skim through the rest of the document. It¡¯s not overly long, and most of it is just details of Gisela¡¯s attempts at owning everything that exists, but¡­ there are holes. Lots of holes.

    ¡°It says here she has no family. That directly contradicts what we read on the krarig.¡±

    Sami taps the back of my neck. ¡°Tilt your chin up, please.¡±

    I do as she asks as Ursula scratches her chin and looks out the glass door. Hair clippings fall slower than before, and Sami leans in closer to do more detailed work. Most of my haircuts took a long time before this, and even with Sami¡¯s speed, I know I¡¯m going to be in this chair for at least another hour. Maybe I¡¯ll take another nap when Ursula leaves.

    ¡°I know it contradicts everything. Plus, there¡¯s the weirdness about how the note was written by two different people. March analyzed the handwriting, and even though it¡¯s almost the exact same, there¡¯s distinct differences.¡± Ursula leans around Sami and flips my report to a copy of the same one we saw on the krarig. ¡°She thinks someone added the second part after the fact, but not that far after the fact. Maybe an hour later, but it could even be immediately after. Like Gisela handed it off to an assistant or something who finished it.¡±

    An assistant, huh? That¡¯s as good a guess as any, sure, but¡­ someone this ¡®important¡¯... why the hell did I save her from the dragonjet? She should¡¯ve been somewhere safe and sound. And why two coins? If I was a betting woman, which I definitely am, I¡¯d say there¡¯s something else here that I¡¯m overlooking.

    I try to raise a hand, but Sami gently pushes it back to my lap. ¡°Sisters. Cousins. Body doubles. Some kind of spell or skill. I¡¯m damn sure we¡¯re going to be surprised the second we meet Gisela face to face. And seriously, Ursula, what the hell am I supposed to memorize from here? This is just a list of companies.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t really care. Pick a few and drop some hints that you know she¡¯s running them. I can¡¯t wait to see the look on the bitch¡¯s face when she realizes how utterly effed she is.¡± Ursula grins sadistically and licks her lips. ¡°She messed with the wrong organization, and we¡¯re going to show her that in spades.¡±

 Chapter 101: Garza Industrial

    The low hum of a portal materializing just a few feet in front of me is almost comforting. Knowing that Gisela¡¯s going to be waiting for us on the other side adds gut-twisting anticipation to that comfort, but doesn¡¯t completely nullify it. Noland¡¯s sources say that the Preservation hasn¡¯t sent anyone out in the last week to anywhere near the place we¡¯re teleporting to, so if we come face to face with enemies, they¡¯ll be private.

    And private hires can be easily bought. Or, in the case of loyal holdouts, slaughtered.

    Well, it¡¯s probably not going to come to that, since today¡¯s just the handoff. Sure, we¡¯re also supposed to work out how we¡¯re going to be escorting Gisela to the party slash event, but I¡¯ve got a nagging feeling she¡¯s going to tell us to screw off the second she gets her coins. She just seems like that kind of person in the little I¡¯ve read about and the minute I talked to her.

    ¡°Dress is riding low.¡± Ursula pats my back ever so slightly. ¡°Have you ever worn a true strapless before?¡±

    I sigh, pull the black cherry fabric up a little higher on my chest, and shake my head. ¡°Never had a reason to. Didn¡¯t want to now, honestly, but Sami insisted. Honestly, I think she just wanted me to show off the bite marks for the intimidation factor.¡±

    ¡°Hey, you look stunning in it. I¡¯d personally go with a backless next time, but hey, that could just be the opinion of someone who likes to look at you.¡± Ursula grins to herself, then adjusts her own dress. A backless ocean blue piece with teal accents. ¡°So, I¡¯m willing to bet you¡¯ve never had to do any fighting in a dress like this before. My advice? Don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like I¡¯m going to have much of a choice.¡±

    ¡°No, what I mean is, always have a change of combat ready clothes somewhere closeby.¡± Ursula holds out her hand, and her briefcase pops into it. ¡°Uncertainty¡¯s got that covered for me, so I asked Sami to make something for you.¡±

    Another briefcase, this one decorated with black iridescent sharkbite patterns, takes uncertainty¡¯s place. Ursula puts it in my hands, and before she can say anything, I take out a relocation coin and touch it to the briefcase. It doesn¡¯t need any extra Worth to function, thank god.

    ¡°Alright, you can take it with you or leave it here. You¡¯re a big girl; you can deal with delays if you know they¡¯re coming.¡± Ursula stretches her arms over her head and winces. ¡°Welp, that¡¯s about it. Meeting time¡¯s in ten minutes, so we should get moving. Any last minute prep you can do in sixty seconds?¡±

    I shake my head and drop the briefcase onto the ground. Pearl squelches out of her shell before I can get a word out.

    ¡°We¡¯re all good!¡± She confirms with glee. ¡°Oh, and Fleur says she¡¯s almost ready to talk. She should be good around when the event starts.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, what she first said.¡± I roll my shoulder, then grumble and grab the fabric that tries to slide down. ¡°I don''t have the assets for this. Can¡¯t I get some clear straps to keep it up or something?¡±

    ¡°Not in thirty seconds, you can¡¯t.¡± Ursula steps halfway into the portal and motions for me to follow her. ¡°Get Sami to modify it when we get back. Oh, and don¡¯t be scared to show some teeth in the meeting. The intimidation factor could be good for us.¡±

    She slips into the portal a second later. I roll my eyes, even though I kind of agree with her, and motion for Pearl to go back into her shell as I walk into the portal. Pearl¡¯s completely safe before my foot touches the shimmering barrier between here and my destination, and I brush off the grains of salt that appeared on her shell with one hand as I take in the other side of the portal.

    It¡¯s¡­ a parking lot. Pavement, painted yellow lines, and dull grey streetlights that will probably turn on at night. I frown and look around for the building we¡¯re supposed to be meeting in, but all I can see is a tiny rundown shack.

    ¡°Did she screw with us, or is this a cover for the real thing?¡± I ask as I stop next to Ursula, who is scanning the parking lot too. ¡°Should there be¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ cars here?¡±

    ¡°You would think so, yeah.¡± She confirms with a small nod. ¡°If we didn¡¯t have her coins, I¡¯d think that she¡¯s messing with us. But it¡¯s probably some underground complex with an entrance around here.¡±

    That¡¯s about what I was thinking, too. ¡°Should we start looking?¡±

    ¡°Nah. We give it until the meeting time, and if nobody shows, we keep the coins as our own. I don¡¯t appreciate being screwed with.¡±

    As if called by Ursula¡¯s cold tone, a parking space a few rows over rises out of the pavement. Underneath it is a set of moving stairs that leads down into a well-lit hallway, and it seems to keep going for a while. Like a combination of an escalator and one of those airport moving sidewalks.

    Ursula grins and starts to walk over. ¡°That¡¯s better. Since I know you can hear me, any more funny business and we leave. Got it?¡±

    Even though nobody answers, I get the feeling that she was understood. I smile to myself, showing just the smallest amount of teeth, and follow just behind Ursula as we cross the parking lot. Nobody shows up to greet us, no cars drive by on the nearby road, and my awareness doesn¡¯t latch onto anything. Hopefully that means there¡¯s nothing invisible watching us, but it could just be really far away.

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    Normal cameras can do that, so magic cameras should be much better. Ursula and I share a look, and her confidence tells me not to worry. So I set aside everything unnecessary with a calming breath and twist my lips into a warm, calculating smile.

    The walkway carries us through a maze of doors and hallways. Every now and again it shifts into another escalator, taking us deeper into the complex, where there are more doors and hallways. None of them are numbered or marked in any way, which seems unbelievably paranoid to me, but it could just speak on how many enemies Gisela managed to make.

    I look over at Ursula to judge how¡­ normal this is for interacting with a client. She¡¯s looking down at her nails with a bored expression, but I can see something glittering in her eye. Not emotion or anything like that, but a physical thing that¡¯s slightly raised on her eye like a bigger contact lens. Narrowing my eyes doesn¡¯t help me make anything out, but if I had to guess, I¡¯d say that¡¯s how she¡¯s keeping in touch with Noland right now. Or maybe tapping into Gisela¡¯s communications.

    But the fact that she isn¡¯t freaking out in the slightest gives me a little peace of mind. So I steady myself, watch the same-y scenery coast by, and wait impatiently for the moment things either go to shit or we actually get to meet our client face to face.

    It takes six escalators for us to finally reach a floor that looks a little different. All the metal bleeds away to wooden paneling with art lining the walls, some in frames and some painted directly onto the wood, and all depicting scenes of sunrises and sunsets above different kinds of scenery. Lakes, mountains, cabins in the woods, and even a few sleepy cityscapes shown from different angles. All either in the rising or setting sun.

    ¡°Someone¡¯s got an obsession.¡± Ursula chuckles.

    ¡°Hey, you like what you like. And she really likes this kind of stuff, apparently.¡±

    ¡°Right you are. Which also makes it feel like we¡¯re getting really close.¡± Ursula taps her wrist, and a shimmering outline of a bangle close to her skin appears for a split second. ¡°If we need to get out of here, stay close to me until you can do your thing. And get yourself out first.¡±

    I nod in confirmation. ¡°Any sign of powerful system-born?¡±

    She reluctantly shakes her head. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen any magical remnants, which is usually a sign of system-born activity. That could be because Gisela has a ventilation system that gets rid of all of it, or the doors completely block it from getting out of the room.¡±

    ¡°Could be because Gisela has everyone on a tight leash.¡±

    ¡°True, true. All the more reason to be insanely careful.¡±

    The moving walkway slows to a crawl, bringing us to a random door that looks no different than any of the others. It keeps moving, albeit slowly enough that it seems like it''s telling us to get off. Ursula and I share a look, and she shrugs as she steps off and walks right over to the door. Apparently that kind of confidence is contagious, since I find myself walking right alongside her with my hands fidgeting around where my pockets would be if I was wearing pants.

    Before we can get to the door, it cracks open a little bit and a strikingly golden-brown eye stares out at us. It looks Ursula up and down, then shifts to me. I grin and wave ever so slightly, which seems to bring whoever¡¯s looking at us pause, but it doesn¡¯t stop them from fully opening the door a second later.

    Ursula steps through without hesitation. I follow with just a little hesitation, and the owner of the eye quietly shuts the door behind us. He¡¯s one of many security guards all dressed like CIA agents, complete with black suits, wired earpieces, and sunglasses even though they¡¯re indoors. It¡¯s about a fifty-fifty split between genders, but the women are standing around Gisela and the men stand guard near the doors and vents.

    ¡°They¡¯re here, ma¡¯am.¡± One of the women leans in and quietly tells Gisela.

    Gisela sighs and waves the woman off. ¡°I am aware. Bring them water and fetch the payment; I don¡¯t want this to take any longer than it has to.¡±

    The bodyguard nods, then gestures at the man who¡¯d opened the door for us. He, too, nods before slipping out of the room with barely a sound. Tiny wisps of magic cling to him like the last strands of a morning fog. Does that mean he¡¯s got a class, or did the other bodyguard cast a spell on him?

    ¡°Well, thank you for coming. And, I guess, for completing my request.¡± Gisela states in the most deadpan, uninterested voice I¡¯ve ever heard. She swivels around in her chair while staring down at some documents in her hand. ¡°Let¡¯s make this quick; you don¡¯t want to be here any more than I want you to be here. You can consider the second part of your employment null and void as well for reasons I¡¯m sure you¡¯re well¡­ aware¡­ of¡­¡±

    She looks up and trails off as she locks eyes with me. ¡°Y-you? You¡¯re Gambler?!¡±

    ¡°I would¡¯ve thought your people figured that out by now.¡± I smile coyly and flash my teeth. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you since you almost got killed by a dragonjet. Why the hell were you there, anyway, if you¡¯re shouldering all the important bits of a massive company?¡±

    ¡°That is none of your business.¡± Gisela coughs and looks away, but she¡¯s blushing a little. She must be embarrassed about being saved. ¡°But¡­ I may have to reconsider my dismissal. As long as you actually brought the coins, of course.¡±

    Ursula motions for me to go ahead, but I don¡¯t need it. I¡¯m already stepping forward as I summon my bracer, which currently has two class coins embedded in its indents. Two bodyguards try to step between me and Gisela, but they flinch back under a combined glare from me and Ursula.

    ¡°Here; defender and psychic, just like we discussed.¡± I pop the coins out of my bracer and place them before Gisela. ¡°But it¡¯s not just that; I have a little something extra I want to give you. As an¡­ apology from me to you.¡±

    I put such saccharine sweetness into that last sentence that nobody could mistake it for sincerity, then place the fortress coin next to the other two. It shudders when it gets close to defender, the coin it originated from, and something tells me that this is the right way. No idea what¡¯s going to happen, but it¡¯s going to happen when someone uses the defender coin in close proximity with the fortress coin.

    Gisela stares down at my false generosity with obvious suspicion. ¡°How many other coins did you take from the vault if you¡¯re trying to bribe me with this?¡±

 Chapter 102: Two of Them

    The destroyed coins are heavy in my hand as I set them down on the table. I pull my hand away slowly, revealing them as Gisela¡¯s expression shifts once more from suspicion to confusion. She reaches for one without pausing to think, holds it close to her eye, and looks at me through the hole in the coin.

    ¡°That¡¯s all that was left.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t say anything. All she does is put the coin down, and one at a time, picks up the other two to inspect them just like the first. Some kind of dour mask falls over her face as she seems to recognize something from the third coin, and when she places it back on the table, her entire mood shifts.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how I can convince you of this, but I didn¡¯t do this. Nobody in my company did.¡± She pushes the coins back at us. ¡°Aside from you, we sent out a few groups to try and find the coins. All of them that came back reported straight to us, and we had ways to confirm that they didn¡¯t steal or damage any coins.¡±

    ¡°So it was the Preservation.¡± Ursula sighs. ¡°I was kind of hoping it was you. Or, y¡¯know, you could be lying to our faces right now. Convince us.¡±

    Gisela grits her teeth. ¡°I can make the transcripts of the meetings available to you. Other than that, all I can give you is my word. And¡­ maybe an explanation of why I want these specific coins in the first place. Dora, you can come in now.¡±

    A section of the wall slides open from behind Gisela. And a woman that looks exactly like her¨Cdown to eye colour, hair style, and even the makeup. The only difference I can make out is that her expression is much more nervous and shy compared to Gisela¡¯s calculating confidence.

    ¡°This is Dora. My identical twin sister.¡± Gisela gestures for Dora to take a seat next to her, and security fluidly molds to protect two people instead of one. ¡°We¡¯ve been preparing to take class coins for almost five years, and with the shift in magical powers in the world, we can¡¯t wait any longer.¡±

    Dora nods shyly as she takes her seat. ¡°We can¡¯t trust other organizations to train our people any more. Without powerful class-wielders, we won''t be able to get any more footholds in any countries, so we need people we can trust.¡±

    ¡°Ourselves.¡± They both say at the same time.

    I find myself looking between the pair. There¡¯s no moles, no scars, no tattoos to differentiate them. Considering that neither of them has showed me unbridled terror so far, I can¡¯t really tell which one of them I ran into before I killed the dragonjet. And¡­ if she¡¯s actually important¡­ did someone send the dragonjet after her? Is that even possible?

    No; I know it''s possible. The Preservation proved that with the krarig and the subwyrms. The question is if the Preservation was responsible for that particular attack. I¡¯ll have to get Call to look into that.

    ¡°So¡­ which one of you actually talked to us?¡± Ursula glances between the twins with a frown. ¡°Because you were pretty hostile over the airwaves. Not the kind of person we want an extended business relationship with.¡±

    ¡°That would be me.¡± Gisela readily volunteers. ¡°If you¡¯re looking for an apology, you¡¯re not going to get it. What I can offer you is an explanation.¡±

    She presses her palm against the table, and a scanner flickers under her skin. Part of the wall behind her, including the door that had opened to let Dora in, brightens with projected images. I instantly recognize a picture of the krarig taken from the air, but there¡¯s no magical interference from any kind of storm.

    ¡°As you already know, we purchased the rig from its previous owners a few years ago. Our plan was to make it a training and storage facility somewhere where we weren''t strangled by the Preservation or any government¡¯s rules.¡± She pulls her finger down the scanner, and the image shifts to the surface of the krarig. One without any magical bullshit weighing it down. ¡°We were told that we could stop it from being claimed by the apocalypse if we put machines in a specific pattern, and for a few months, it seemed to work.¡±

    Another swipe switched the picture to a scene I¡¯m much more familiar with¨Calbeit with less salt. A few grains of the stuff floats in the camera here and there, but the vast majority of the changes are in the metal structure.

    ¡°So someone bullshitted you and screwed you over.¡± Ursula cuts in. ¡°When did you put all the coins in? Did everything go to shit right after that?¡±

    Gisela shakes her head. ¡°We brought the coins in on day nine, and we started having issues on day one-hundred and fifteen. By day one-hundred and ninety, we had to evacuate the rig, and in doing so we left all the remaining coins behind.¡±

    ¡°It was a really hard decision.¡± Dora says quietly. ¡°When we put the safe in the rig, there were thirty-two coins. We used eighteen of them, and we left the other fourteen behind, even though we really didn¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s understating it a little, but it¡¯s the truth. After that we started hiring people to get the coins for us, since we couldn¡¯t risk our own personnel, but we had no success.¡± Gisela scrolls through a series of images that show the krarig further developing, then stops on one that looks a lot like what we saw. ¡°When we were out of options, we had to choose which horrible path would be the least bad for us. Which major organization that we couldn¡¯t intimidate did we want to risk contacting to get our coins?¡±

    I jab a thumb at myself. Both Dora and Gisela nod in confirmation, but Dora¡¯s the one who speaks.

    ¡°We had to choose between you, the Preservation, HuSt, and whichever government held claim to that stretch of sea.¡± She motions for Gisela to change the picture, and it shifts to a simple piece of paper with red tally marks beside each of the names she just listed. Everyone else has more than a dozen, but the resort just has two. ¡°Choosing you was the easiest choice. You take a small but significant fee, have a near flawless record, and aren¡¯t associated with anyone we thought was a threat.¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Ursula leans back and clicks her tongue. ¡°So we¡¯re the safe choice. Not sure I like it, but I get it. So what¡¯re the two marks against us?¡±

    ¡°Raw, unadulterated power, and influence.¡± Gisela states grimly. ¡°We have nothing we can lord over you, and not a single one of our employees can hold a candle to the strength you¡¯ve showed. When we chose you, we knew we would have to trust you to uphold your side of the deal, since we couldn¡¯t force you into doing anything more than that.¡±

    Dora lifts her eyes and shyly glances at me. ¡°Talking to you confirmed our fears, but it also convinced us that we made the right choice. Because, for some reason, none of you want anything. I don¡¯t personally get it, but I have to respect it.¡±

    Ursula waves off Dora¡¯s comment. ¡°Oh, no, we want things. Lots of things, actually. It¡¯s just that you can¡¯t give us any of them. No humans can, really. I¡¯m about done hearing your reasoning, and honestly, I believe you. You¡¯re greedy, ambitious, and you¡¯ve obviously got goals you¡¯re not sharing with us. Probably because they¡¯d make us go ¡®hell no, we¡¯re not helping you¡¯.¡±

    I find myself nodding along in agreement. ¡°Yeah. I do have a few questions, though. How about you, Ursula?¡±

    She grins, as if she¡¯d been waiting for me to ask that. ¡°¡®Course I do, Shelby. First one; do you two still want us to escort you to whatever the event is?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Gisela says immediately, then turns to her sister. ¡°What about you?¡±

    Dora hesitates for a moment as she looks between me and her sister. ¡°I guess so. Even if we tried to switch now, we couldn¡¯t find anyone better.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I love being the default choice. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.¡± Ursula says flatly. ¡°Cool. We¡¯ll work out the details after this. Question two; what coins did you have inside that vault? And why ask us specifically for the two that happened to not get destroyed?¡±

    The twins share an uncertain look, then Gisela starts to talk. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know. We could¡¯ve gotten extremely lucky with the ones we have left, or someone could have intercepted our plans somehow and found out which ones we were planning on using.¡±

    Which ones they were planning on using? How long have they known they were going to do this? And why bother with hiding those two specific coins in the first place if they knew they were going to use those coins?

    ¡°What was the plan if things didn¡¯t go wrong?¡±

    Everyone looks at me. I don¡¯t flinch, or even feel pressure from everyone¡¯s gazes. Pearl nods in agreement with my sentiment, which is enough for me to confidently say that this is important.

    ¡°The plan was this, except out on the rig.¡± Dora says slowly. ¡°What else would the plan be?¡±

    Gisela shakes her head. ¡°No, I know what she¡¯s insinuating. The truth is that we were overconfident. We thought we could control the krarig¡¯s development, and for months, we pretended everything was fine. Then, one day, everything wasn¡¯t fine and we couldn¡¯t do anything about it.¡±

    Ursula nods. ¡°Sounds about right. So, the coins that were in the vault; I¡¯m just going to cut to the chase. Did any of them have Fate or Worth as primary stats?¡±

    ¡°Fate, yes. Worth¡­ I don¡¯t think so. I¡¯ll check.¡±

    As Gisela paws at the table to check, Dora nervously keeps glancing at me. When our eyes meet she shyly looks away, but the same thing happens when Ursula meets her eyes too. I¡¯m almost certain she¡¯s the one I saved from the dragonjet, not Gisela, which would make sense. The CEO of a company wouldn¡¯t be out somewhere random like that, but it isn¡¯t so unbelievable that her sister might be investigating something weird.

    ¡°Dora, have we ever met before?¡±

    Her eyes briefly meet mine, and she looks down to avoid eye contact. ¡°Not before today, no. I did hear you talk to Gisela once, though. Does that count?¡±

    ¡­Oh. Huh. ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t. So¡­ I didn¡¯t save you from the dragonjet?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°That was Gisela. I don¡¯t know if she wants me to say why she was there, so I¡¯ll let her answer that if she wants to.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a secret. I was there because I wanted to buy the city.¡± Gisela sighs. ¡°When the evacuation signal went out, I thought I could go and offer to repair everything and get G.I. a base of operations further up north. Although I hate to say it, I¡¯m only alive right now because Shelby saved me.¡±

    So I saved the one that definitely won¡¯t thank me. Or do anything nice for us. Hell, I¡¯m probably the reason she put the ¡®get coins¡¯ plan in motion. But I guess it''s better than some phantom corporation losing its head and potentially becoming another Preservation or HuSt.

    ¡°Ah, no, there weren¡¯t any Worth classes in the vault.¡± Gisela says with a frown. ¡°I could¡¯ve sworn we had one, but the last inventory we took said we didn¡¯t. Dora, do you remember what class it was?¡±

    Dora shakes her head. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Hrm. That¡¯s¡­ bad.¡± Gisela motions for one of her bodyguards to come close. ¡°Scour the databases for any evidence of us ever having a Worth class. If someone altered our memory to make us forget, we need to know. Put it as priority one.¡±

    The bodyguard nods. ¡°Yes, Ma¡¯am. What secrecy ranking?¡±

    ¡°Zero.¡±

    With one more nod, the bodyguard rushes out of the room and disappears. I watch them go, and when they open the door, their body shimmers slightly and their clothes change to a researcher¡¯s lab coat.

    ¡°Is that normal?¡±

    ¡°The clothes change? Yes, it is normal. Security zero means not a single word of it leaves this room.¡± Gisela drums her fingertips against the table and eyes the class coins. ¡°You¡¯re probably wondering why we picked those specific coins. Now that there¡¯s a chance our memories have been altered, I¡¯m starting to wonder, too.¡±

    Dora raises a hand to her mouth and gasps. ¡°Do you think they made us think we wanted the only two that were left?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t cross off that option just yet.¡± Gisela locks eyes with Ursula, then with me. ¡°There¡¯s a chance you two just became the only people whose memories we can trust. Shelby, when you saved me, you destroyed a dragonjet. What was I wearing that day?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°A crop-top hoodie. That¡¯s all I remember.¡±

    Gisela stares at me. ¡°That¡¯s all you remember?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°...That¡¯s annoying.¡± She mutters quietly to herself. ¡°I was wearing that, jeans, a shoulder bag, sneakers, a mesh crop top, and¡­ more. I remember hiding in a building when the dragonjet descended on me, and then it just¡­ left.¡±

    Her gaze becomes even more intense. It almost smolders on me, and I feel the need to shrink away in¡­ embarrassment? Why am I embarrassed?

    ¡°I saw you kill it. Someone who stood to gain absolutely nothing from saving me, and who didn¡¯t even try to get anything out of the act.¡± Gisela continues, her voice growing increasingly intense as she speaks. ¡°You terrify me, Shelby. Enough that you scared me into finally accepting that, more than anything, I want to take a class of my own and go to the other world. No matter what it costs me here.¡±

 Chapter 103: I Might Be A Bad Influence

    Gisela¡¯s resolve sinks into me like a single, sharpened tooth. There¡¯s something that really bothers me about it¨Cwhat bites with one tooth, after all¨Cbut she¡¯s not giving any hints with her body language. I carefully shift my gaze to Dora, expecting to see a little reluctance as a foil to Gisela¡¯s confidence, but all I see is a second, quieter tooth.

    ¡°If you¡¯re saying this, can I assume you¡¯ve got plans to keep the company alive?¡± Ursula asks with stone-faced professionalism. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine you two abandoning something you worked so hard to build up just to go chasing whims. It¡¯s not just irresponsible¡­ it¡¯s idiotic.¡±

    Dora nods a little in agreement. ¡°We have a group of trusted people. All of them are trained to run the company if need be, so as long as one of us stays behind, we won¡¯t lose anything.¡±

    That kind of sounds like how the resort works. Except I have absolutely no idea how to run a place like that. Now that I think of it¡­ does that mean Ursula and March have that knowledge? Am I expected to learn? Or does Noland somehow do everything on his own?

    ¡°How can you be sure they won¡¯t betray you?¡±

    I whip around at the vitriolic tone of Ursula¡¯s question. Gisela and Dora both drop their facades for a second in stunned silence, but they recover much quicker than I do. Not quick enough to give a snappy comeback, though¨Cor even quick enough to get a word in before Ursula starts speaking again.

    ¡°People betray each other. Trust only amounts to so much.¡± She leans forward, her eyes cold and hardened from experience. ¡°If one person decides they gain something by betraying your organization, then everything can come crumbling down around you in an afternoon. Even if you play it safe, and don¡¯t give anyone else the power to make impactful decisions, a true betrayal doesn¡¯t need that. Not when the people they¡¯d betray you to have massive city-leveling mechs.¡±

    Dora doesn¡¯t have an answer to that. She just audibly swallows and looks down at the table. Gisela, however, balls her fists and presses them into the table. Frustration beads off her shaking body like a tangible thing, and from how she doesn¡¯t turn to look at anyone but us, I can tell Ursula¡¯s question hit a little too close to home.

    ¡°We know the risks.¡± She states calmly, even though she looks nothing but. ¡°Our entire lives were built up by taking obscene risks that luckily happened to pay out. There¡¯s no difference between back then when we were just lab rats and now.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got too much to lose.¡±

    Everyone, including the bodyguards, all snap to me like I magnetically drew their attention. Cold understanding washes over me, but it isn¡¯t from me. It¡¯s coming from Pearl. I close my eyes and focus on that sensation¨Cthe sensation of having far too much to lose to even take a single risk. She smiles at me, full of regret and memories, and gently grabs her arm with one hand. Because she doesn¡¯t have a good solution. Just the one she latched onto that led to her current situation.

    ¡°No matter what you choose to do, something¡¯s going to go wrong. That¡¯s just how life works.¡± I say as I open my eyes to everyone¡¯s stares. ¡°You can take the safest way, or the most dangerous way. But honestly, you don¡¯t know which one¡¯s which. You don¡¯t know who¡¯s going to open which door, which actions they¡¯re going to take, or even if everything you fought for is already compromised.¡±

    Illumisia¡¯s explanation on Fate flashes into my mind. I lace my fingers together, put on my most empathetic expression, and make a decision based on knowing next to nothing at all. It might send the Garza twins to early deaths. It could turn them into tyrannical despots. Hell, it could turn them into an offshoot of the resort that helps us get rid of the Preservation altogether.

    But that starts with sending them to get Classes. ¡°Someone once explained to me that the world is on a fated path; the chain of events that are currently set in motion by everyone¡¯s actions. Sometimes I can see flashes of orange that let me know if something has the potential to shift that fated path. I don¡¯t know if ignoring them keeps me on the path, or if ignoring it is what shifts fate, but they¡¯re¡­ junctions¡­¡±

    I trail off slowly as both of the twins¡¯ eyes take on a very slight orange flicker like reflected firelight. My words catch in my throat as I carefully move only my eyes to get a look at the rest of the room, and my heart skips a beat at what I see.

    Every pair of eyes¨Cno matter if they¡¯re behind sunglasses or not¨Chas the exact same flicker of orange. Meaning my choice here will somehow affect everyone here. Maybe even every single person Garza industrial employs. Then I glance over at Ursula. Her eyes flicker orange.

    ¡­Shit. Why did it only start when I opened my mouth? Shouldn¡¯t everyone have been orange since the start? What about my short-ass speech convinced the twins enough that they seriously started considering something they hadn¡¯t from the beginning?

    My hand slowly closes around a summoned coin. I flick it at the underside of the table, and in an act that grips my heart with an icy fist, activate Twist Fate. Words coat my mouth as the world flickers into monochrome, and my mind races as I try to assign different angles to heads and tails. But this time¡­ just in case Twist Fate is the reason Fleur got messed up¡­ I need to put a slightly different spin on it.

    ¡°Heads I tell them to go, tails I tell them to forget about it.¡±

    Twist Fate.

    Heads or Tails.

    Best or Worst.

    It¡¯s never as clean as black or white.

    Call it.

    ¡°Best for everyone.¡±

    A loud noise, like a record scratch amplified to be as loud as a jet engine, shrieks through my mind like a runaway freight train. I barely stifle a scream and cover my ears with both hands, only to feel wet, sticky warmth on my palms. Pulling them away reveals blood mixed with the stuff Pearl put into my body to revive me.

    Best for everyone is unattainable.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    One person¡¯s success directly conflicts with another¡¯s.

    Identify a clear group or individual to be the target of this skill.

    I swallow hard. Alright, so all I have to do is narrow down my choice. That¡¯s not so bad.

    ¡°Best for the resort.¡±

    The coin slams to the ground, and I hurry to wipe the blood from my ears as everything returns to normal. Gisela¡¯s eyes go wide when I¡¯m not quick enough, and for some reason, it makes her eyes Fate glow even brighter.

    ¡°Shelby, what happened?¡± She asks with what sounds like genuine concern. ¡°You were in the middle of talking, and then you¡­ what happened?¡±

    Ursula leans in and wraps an arm around my body. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it¨Cshe¡¯s got a skill that does this to her sometimes. She¡¯ll tell me all about it in the debrief later, won¡¯t you Shelby?¡±

    Alright, so no being subtle now. ¡°Yeah, of course. I won¡¯t do that for another week.¡± I laugh, putting extra emphasis on the word ¡®week¡¯ to try and help Ursula make the connection. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m perfectly fine. I¡¯m made of sterner stuff, so this won''t faze me.¡±

    I manage a glance at the coin under the table. It came up heads.

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief.¡± Gisela sighs. ¡°But¡­ you¡¯re right, both of you. We know this is dangerous, and we know we can¡¯t predict what¡¯s going to happen. We¡¯ve had countless meetings discussing how the company will run while we¡¯re on the other world, but none of them end the way we really want them to.¡±

    I place my foot on the coin and send it back to my inventory as Gisela rewords her last sentiment in a hundred different ways. They really must have been working on this for a long time, which means they¡¯ve been denying themselves what they really want to do for just as long. Even if this is the wrong choice, it feels like the choice they want to make. All they need is one person to tell them they¡¯re allowed to make it.

    ¡°Take the class coins. Go to the other world, and use the experiences you have there to make this company even better at¡­ whatever you do here¡­ than it already is.¡± I say with a confident, friendly smile. ¡°You haven¡¯t done anything to make the system hate you, so all you have to worry about are problems that come from Earth. Watch each others¡¯ backs and you¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    The orange Fate flickers in the twins¡¯ eyes. As it fades away, resolve takes its place. Why they place so much value in my decision I don¡¯t know, but if I can make the best decision for all of us, I can go to sleep knowing I did some good.

    ¡°So¡­ the event. How do you want to do it? And we need some details before we really commit to it.¡± Ursula breaks the silence and shoves the conversation forward. ¡°If we need to provide security strong enough to stop assassination attempts, just the two of us won¡¯t be enough. But if all you need is a pair of bodyguards, I want an explanation for why it should be us.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Is it a party, some kind of red carpet event, or a campaign kind of thing?¡±

    ¡°The best description of it is a combination party and campaign. It isn¡¯t open to the public, and it won¡¯t be filmed, but members of the Preservation, HuSt, and many smaller groups will be present.¡± Gisela drums her painted fingernails against the table in thought. ¡°Am I forgetting anything, Dora? I feel like I¡¯m forgetting something.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ the government representatives, I think.¡±

    Gisela nods vigorously. ¡°Yes, them. I can¡¯t say who, but there are going to be diplomats and representatives as well.¡±

    ¡­Not sure if it''s just me, but that sounds like one hell of a get together. If HuSt wasn¡¯t included in the list, then maybe I could have convinced myself that the main point of the get-together wasn¡¯t squarely rooted in the other world. But with that guest list, I¡¯m betting this little party is way more important than Gisela¡¯s letting on.

    ¡°So what¡¯s on the agenda?¡± I ask.

    ¡°The usual. Campaigning, fighting over resources and intel, and trying to regulate Class Coins on a global scale. You two signed NDAs, right? I¡¯m not just imagining that?¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°Nope, and we never will. But you also know we have no skin in the selling information game, so your secrets are safe-ish with us.¡±

    ¡°As long as we don¡¯t do anything to threaten you?¡±

    ¡°Not quite.¡± Ursula leans in with a crooked smile and rests her chin on her hands. ¡°Remember that we¡¯re here to make sure the world doesn¡¯t go completely pro-Class fascist or anti-Class fascist. Don¡¯t go pushing either rhetoric and you¡¯ll never find yourselves staring down the barrel of utter annihilation.¡±

    Dora gulps. ¡°She¡­ you don¡¯t really mean that, do you?¡±

    Gisela, on the other hand, almost seems emboldened by Ursula¡¯s threat. ¡°The world needs people like you to stop people like us from going too far. Make sure you codify some things into laws before the Preservation decides they get a monopoly on giving out Class Coins, though. It¡¯s happening way faster than you think.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re aware of that.¡± Ursula says curtly. ¡°And you wouldn¡¯t be the first organization we surgically removed from the running. Now¨Cgive us a detailed agenda for the party or we leave.¡±

    ¡°That was always the plan if it went this way.¡± Gisela snaps her fingers, and one of her bodyguards places a folder in her hand. ¡°This contains details on all the organizations, people, and classes that will be present. Things shouldn¡¯t get violent, but they have before. If you¡¯re going to guard us, we need to know that you¡¯re powerful enough to keep us from dying, not just get revenge after we die.¡±

    Dora nods vigorously in agreement. ¡°I don¡¯t want to die.¡±

    Ursula leans forward and snatches the folder from Gisela. Her lips curl up in annoyance, and she glances at me for a second, but she goes right back to sitting and watching Ursula flip through the folder a second later. It really feels like Gisela wants something from me. Or¡­ wait, what if she thinks I actually did have a motive for saving her? It kind of makes sense, honestly.

    ¡°Hrm. This is annoying.¡± Ursula muses. ¡°You both want to go, but you¡¯re never going to be there at the same time. Which means we¡¯re going to have to do a hand-off at some point, and after the hand-off, someone¡¯s going to have to watch the vehicle. No, not just that; someone¡¯s going to have to watch you come in at a later time.¡±

    ¡°Is that going to be a problem?¡± Gisela asks.

    Ursula snorts and hands me the folder. ¡°Of course it is. There¡¯s two of us. You want constant protection not just at the party, but for the travel to and from the party. Wouldn¡¯t be a problem if you wanted to go at the same damn time, but if you¡¯re staggering it, we can¡¯t do it with two people.¡±

    I¡¯m inclined to agree with Ursula. Two bodyguards is barely enough protection either of them from someone who actually wants to kill them, and one just leaves way too much room for danger. Even if we got Noland in on it, we¡¯d still be one person short, since March is crossing over before the deadline.

    ¡°Our own people can protect us on the way there and back.¡± Gisela insists. ¡°All you need to do is protect us at the party.¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°No way. We¡¯re leaving at least one person with you at all times. I¡¯ll deal with the handoffs, and I¡¯ll ride there and back every time. Shelby, you and Noland will work the party. He¡¯s better with that high society stuff than I am, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Is that a good idea?¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know.¡± Ursula chuckles humorlessly. ¡°But if the Preservation and HuSt are going, we can¡¯t afford not to have Noland there.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°Simple; they might know the rest of us, but they¡¯re goddamn terrified of him.¡±

 Chapter 104: Scoping Out The Venue

    A shimmering portal takes me out of that stuffy-ass boardroom and into an empty field. I share a look with Ursula, who looks over her shoulder and mouths ¡®what gives¡¯ to the people watching from the other side. Gisela shrugs. Dora looks down at the ground.

    ¡°Well¡­ apparently this is the venue.¡± Ursula sighs in annoyance and waves the portal away. ¡°Do you see anything suitable for hosting a huge party? Because I just see dusty grass and dirt that¡¯s trying to run away in the wind.¡±

    I chuckle and shake my head. ¡°Hell no. Is it underground like where we just came from?¡±

    ¡°No idea. Let¡¯s check.¡±

    Uncertainty appears in Ursula¡¯s hand, and she flicks open the latches as she drops it to the ground. Four things appear in it when it hits the ground: a tablet computer and three spheres with retractable spikes. She grabs the spheres and tosses me the tablet, which flickers on the moment it touches my hand to reveal a simple map of the area.

    The only things on it are three pulsating blips¨Call on top of each other, and all exactly where Ursula¡¯s standing. She raises an eyebrow, but before she can say anything, my brain puts together what she wants me to do and I point off to her left.

    ¡°Eighty feet that way. Is it safe to bring anyone else out, or are we being watched?¡±

    Ursula shrugs as she sets off. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯ve got no idea. I¡¯d say keep on the safe side and assume our every move is being monitored by whoever the actual host of this party is.¡±

    I nod a little. After Ursula made the declaration that the Preservation and HuSt are terrified of Noland, we had a long chat with Gisela and Dora about everything they¡¯re going to be talking about at the party. And the guest list. Almost all of it is censored, but Ursula was confident that Noland and March can decipher who everyone is before the actual party.

    Everyone was pretty confident that no fights would break out, but that was only if things went like they were expected to. I¡¯m damn confident they aren¡¯t going to go how Gisela thinks they are, and considering a two-person job became a three-person job, Ursula¡¯s thinking like I am. Either the Preservation makes a move, someone accuses someone of something heinous, or a group decides to announce that they¡¯re pushing their boundaries with force to back it up.

    Hell, it¡¯ll be weirder if everything goes to plan. Then there¡¯s the idiotic way that the Garza twins want to punctuate their speeches¨Cwhich Ursula talked them out of before I could actually hear what it was, but I¡¯m pretty sure it was an absolutely unnecessary show of wealth.

    ¡°Alright, where next?¡±

    Ursula¡¯s voice echoes through my head, and I automatically point towards the next highlighted location on the map. ¡°Two hundred feet that way.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha!¡±

    I watch her jog over to the next point, questions and possibilities swimming around in my mind like hungry blenderanhas. Most of them can¡¯t be answered yet, but will be instantly answered at the party. The others¡­ well, they¡¯re either not important at all or way too important to keep all chained up in my brain.

    ¡°Ursula¡­ isn¡¯t it really bad that the only two coins that were left were the exact ones the twins wanted?¡±

    She plants the sphere, then turns to me and tilts her head. I jab a thumb over my shoulder to direct her.

    ¡°Five hundred feet directly behind me.¡±

    ¡°Heard you loud and clear. And yeah, I thought that was dangerous too.¡± She jogs past me, then hucks the last sphere like a shot put. I watch it sail on the map, and it lands perfectly on the mark. ¡°Way I see it, there¡¯s four options, and only one of them is good. The rest range from kind of bad but expected all the way to ¡®this was always a trap for us¡¯.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and hand her the tablet. ¡°I¡¯ve got three scenarios in my head. What¡¯s number four?¡±

    Ursula accepts the tablet and rapidly taps on it. ¡°There¡¯s no way I can know what three you thought of to say which one is number four. So yap on about the three you know and then I¡¯ll tell you the one you missed.¡±

    ¡°Yap on¡­¡± I frown at her choice of words, but she¡¯s already half ignoring me. ¡°Ah, fine, whatever. My first thought is one they already said; someone brainwashed them into thinking they want the last two coins that were left. It¡¯s pretty terrifying to think about, since it could¡¯ve happened months ago for all we know. And they said they can¡¯t remember if they had a Worth coin or not.¡±

    ¡°True, true.¡± Ursula agrees. ¡°Personally I doubt that that¡¯s the truth, since they have so much magic around them all the time with their employees. Anyone powerful enough to get through all that wouldn¡¯t just brainwash them into thinking they want specific coins¨Cthey¡¯d brainwash ¡®em into giving away the company or running it into the ground. So I¡¯ll write that off as ¡®unlikely, but so bad that we can¡¯t outright count it out¡¯.¡±

    I step in close and watch over her shoulder as the map starts to shudder. Little by little, it goes from a simple 2d image to one of those 3d landscape things. It even shows all the things underground¨Cpipes, buried electrical wires, and a few miscellaneous bones.

    ¡°How long¡¯s this going to take?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°Ten minutes, maybe?¡±

    ¡°Do we need to stand here for the entire time?¡±

    ¡°...Nope, we don¡¯t.¡± She picks up Uncertainty and tucks it under her arm. ¡°Let¡¯s walk and see if we can see any obvious signs of magic. Keep throwing out ideas while we do.¡±

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    ¡°Gotcha. So, second thought; they knew which coins were the ones left, since they¡¯ve been working with the Preservation the entire time. They¡¯re using us as cover, and we were supposed to die or get arrested on the krarig. Since that didn¡¯t happen, they¡¯re moving on to plan ¡®B¡¯ and we¡¯re going to get ambushed at the party.¡±

    Ursula clicks her tongue, but doesn¡¯t outright deny me like last time.

    ¡°That¡¯s a bit more likely, and at the start of the meeting, it¡¯s what I assumed was going to happen. After actually talking to ¡®em, though¡­ I got a slightly different feeling. If they knew which coins were still there, I don¡¯t think it''s because they were working with the Preservation. I think it¡¯s because they¡¯ve had this planned for way longer than they¡¯re letting on.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as I try and fail to shove my hands in my pockets for the second time today. Somehow, that¡¯s the one part of wearing a dress for the first time in months that I¡¯m struggling with.

    ¡°If that¡¯s true, then you think they put better security on them than the other coins?¡± I ask, and as the words leave my mouth, they feel right. It¡¯s what I¡¯d do in their position. ¡°Actually, yeah, that sounds perfectly reasonable. Plus, having the shadowy mastermind take the psychic coin and her more public twin have the defender makes a lot of sense. Especially since they¡¯re going to the other world at the same time.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm, that¡¯s my thoughts too. I think it¡¯s the most likely explanation we¡¯ve got, but it still doesn¡¯t line up perfectly with the information we¡¯ve got.¡± Ursula motions for me to stop, then looks down at something marble white that¡¯s half-buried in the ground. ¡°So what¡¯s your third option? And what the hell is this thing?¡±

    As she leans down and brushes off the thing in the ground, I lean down with her and study the chunk of¡­ yeah, that¡¯s marble. It looks like the bottom half of a column you¡¯d see in an ancient Greek building, or maybe the upper half depending on how it broke. She tentatively brushes her fingers over it, then clears her throat.

    ¡°Right, talking, sorry.¡± I apologize and stand back up. ¡°The third option is that they¡¯ve got a spy who told the Preservation not to touch the last two coins, or else they¡¯d royally piss the twins off. Or¡­ maybe not a spy, exactly, but somehow the information leaked that they were looking for exactly that.¡±

    ¡°Which means someone¡¯s scared of them. And that means they¡¯ve got something worth being scared of.¡± Ursula finishes for me. ¡°I¡¯d say that¡¯s between the other two because I can¡¯t imagine the Preservation being scared of Garza Incorporated. They¡¯re all worth considering, though, so you need to keep your ears and eyes open at the party for any evidence that supports one of the theories.¡±

    ¡°Will do. So, what¡¯s theory number four?¡±

    Ursula shakes her head and laughs humorlessly. ¡°It¡¯s barely worth saying, but ever since I saw how the krarig turned out, I can¡¯t get it out of my head. Something about it doesn¡¯t fit with the rest, sure, but there could be other reasons working against it.¡±

    How¡­ the krarig turned out? What does she mean by that? And why did a chill just go down my spine?

    ¡°Hey¡­ explain.¡±

    With a small smile on her lips, Ursula gestures at me. ¡°Last thing I can think of is that everything was pure luck. We don¡¯t know how long your skill lasts, and I¡¯m pretty sure you used it before you found that safe.¡±

    My words catch in my throat. I want to say that she¡¯s wrong, but¡­ honestly¡­ I can¡¯t. The only argument I have against it is that we didn¡¯t get the best possible outcome. Unless¡­ was this somehow the best possible outcome? No. It can¡¯t be. How would getting the two coins we were supposed to and losing the others be the best outcome?

    ¡°Of course, that doesn¡¯t account for the long-ass time they were there before you even knew they existed.¡± Ursula continues as she grips the column. ¡°If we¡¯re thinking everything was just luck, it means the two coins didn¡¯t get taken or experimented on for the entire time they were there. Not unbelievable, sure, but there¡¯s always a chance.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ shit, I kind of hope that¡¯s not true.¡± I say quietly and stare down at the ground. ¡°If all this is only happening because of luck, then it¡¯d mean there¡¯s a chance the party will go off without a hitch.¡±

    Ursula smirks wickedly. ¡°And that¡¯s a bad thing?¡±

    Heat fills my face and I try to stammer out an answer. ¡°N-no, I mean, i-it¡¯s obviously a good¨C¡±

    She waves a hand to cut me off with a laugh. ¡°Don¡¯t bother explaining yourself; I¡¯m in the same camp as you are. Things going perfectly is great if you¡¯re planning a vacation or in some life or death stakes, but when you¡¯re expecting things to go wrong, everything going perfectly feels like something¡¯s just going to go horribly wrong moments later. Right?¡±

    I nod vigorously in agreement. Even if the truth is¡­ not as nice. If I have to escort someone to a bougie party, stay on my best behavior and on edge the entire time, and nobody has the decency to try and kill someone¡­ well¡­ it¡¯d just be disappointing. Boring, even.

    Pearl giggles at my discomfort. ¡°I have a feeling Illumisia would violently agree with whatever you¡¯re actually thinking. Not quite sure I would, since peace is really nice, but these people are all warmongers. If they don¡¯t give you a reason to slit their throats, you¡¯ll end up looking like the bad guy.¡±

    That¡­ there¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m not planning on slitting any throats. Not¡­ without a good reason, at least. Alright, so maybe it¡¯d feel pretty damn good to kill someone from the Preservation that really deserves to die. But I¡¯m not that kind of person. I haven¡¯t actually killed another fully sentient being before.

    So it¡¯s all just fantasy. A fantasy that I¡¯ve never really lived, so I can¡¯t feel the actual consequences of it. I mean, in movies, normal people cry and barf and regret the kill after they¡¯re forced to kill someone. There¡¯s no way I¡¯ll be any different. Even if I¡¯m equal parts shellraiser, Illumisia-brand painted dane, and human.

    ¡­Right?

    I shake my head and look up at the sky. Absolutely no clouds mar a perfect blue day. But¡­ wait, no. There¡¯s just a pretty huge circle above us with no clouds. Like, a perfect circle, with some clouds cut in half by an invisible barrier.

    ¡°Hey, uh, that¡¯s not natural, right?¡±

    Ursula looks up at me, then at the sky. A frown etches itself onto her face, and she glances down at her tablet. From what I can see, there isn¡¯t anything notable below ground. Definitely no underground complex like we just came from.

    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t.¡± She mutters. ¡°Help me get this thing out.¡±

    After I get back in position, we both take half of the buried column and pull with all our might. Ursula does most of the heavy lifting, and my muscles scream at the effort I have to put in just to keep up with her, but out of the corner of my eye I see it slowly unearthing. Little by little it exposes itself, and we have to make out own handholds every minute or so.

    And after about fifteen minutes, the column pops free of the dirt. Perfectly intact, to boot. The part we¡¯d initially gripped to pull it out was completely flat, but this part we just unearthed¡­ well, it isn¡¯t. It¡¯s a bust of someone¡¯s upper chest and face.

    ¡°Long beard, beady eyes, and a head of flowing hair.¡± I note as the thing slams to the ground. ¡°No way none of this broke off in the ground. I mean, look at how thin the stone gets near the ends there.¡±

    But Ursula isn¡¯t listening. She¡¯s got her hand over her mouth, eyebrows furrowed in thought, and a toothy sneer just barely showing through her fingers.

    ¡°Noland, check the news reports over the last few years for UFO sightings around here.¡± She says with almost toxic excitement. ¡°I think we¡¯re dealing with one of your old friends and a flying party platform.¡±

 Chapter 105: Party Starter

    The rest of the time until the party passes like a flash in a pan, and before I really know it, I¡¯m standing before yet another teleporter in a slightly adjusted dress with Noland at my side. He fiddles with a suit that fits him perfectly, which is only slightly different than the one he usually wears, and his eyes are distant and glassy with thought.

    ¡°Are you finally going to tell me why Ursula thinks everyone there is going to be terrified of you, or do I have to wait for the screams to start to get my answer?¡±

    He smirks and waggles a finger at me. ¡°All in due time, all in due time. Two last quick things; make sure you always keep whichever sister we¡¯re looking after in your awareness range, and even though Pearl can talk all she wants, you can¡¯t respond to her in any way. Not even the Class Card messaging you used back on the krarig.¡±

    I nod in understanding and pull a clear strap back into place. ¡°They¡¯re going to have cameras everywhere, then?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one reason why, yes. The other is that I know they¡¯ve got a few classes that can almost read thoughts, but not as much as they want you to think. It¡¯s closer to being really well attuned to body language and having insane eyesight and hearing. Kind of like a weaker version of your awareness.¡±

    Pearl peeks out of her shell with a blinding smile. ¡°The system can¡¯t hold a candle to my greatness!¡±

    Noland rolls his eyes, but doesn¡¯t counter her point. Ever since I introduced Pearl to them, he¡¯s the only one that hasn¡¯t been perfectly accepting of her. Ursula acts like she¡¯s just another part of me, March treats her like a living myth, but Noland treats her like the unknown organism that she is. Can¡¯t blame him for being cautious, honestly.

    ¡°You heard the man, Pearl; no coming out. How¡¯s Fleur doing?¡±

    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s fine; just not strong enough to come out yet. I¡¯ll make sure she doesn¡¯t make a grand appearance at the absolute wrong time.¡± Pearl pats my cheek reassuringly, then grins at Noland. ¡°See you soon-ish, suit guy.¡±

    He can¡¯t hold back the shudder that works its way down his spine. Pearl squishes back into her shell, and the moment her voice is cut off from the outside world, she breaks down into a massive giggle fit. It isn¡¯t the reaction I expected when Noland started giving her the side-eye, but apparently she likes the way he reacts. Maybe that¡¯s a little bit of Illumisia¡¯s influence.

    ¡°Two minutes.¡± He says, cutting the previous conversation off completely. ¡°We¡¯re teleporting to the meet-up point, where we¡¯ll take the twin who decided to come first to the party platform. Now we don¡¯t have definite proof that the party is actually taking place in a floating platform, but circumstantial evidence points directly to it. Do you need to see the notes again?¡±

    I shake my head as a clipboard appears in his hand. ¡°The person paying for everything is Matteus Comistral, a rich asshole who¡¯s got connections to basically everyone. He¡¯s most known for using magic in extremely lavish ways; floating cruises, orgies with simulacra of famous people¨Cthat kind of thing. And, for some reason, he really wants the Preservation to have complete control over Class Coin distribution.¡±

    Noland nods. ¡°That¡¯s the short and simple. My theory is that he already has a deal in place to act as a Class Coin distributor for the Preservation, or he wants them to become a black market item to make them even more valuable. Either way, greed is definitely making his decision for him.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I forgot to ask¨Cdoes he have a class of his own?¡±

    ¡°No idea. I haven¡¯t met the guy in years, but the last time we talked, he was extremely militant on the ¡®purity of humanity¡¯.¡± Noland grimaced and crossed his arms. ¡°It was some bullshit conspiracy theory about magic making your kids dumber, so he wanted to keep himself pure and, in his words, ¡®more desirable¡¯. Not that I trust someone with morals as flexible as an olympic gymnast to stick to his own beliefs.¡±

    So it¡¯s a rock-solid ¡®maybe¡¯, got it. But even if he doesn''t have a class of his own, there¡¯s no way the guy won¡¯t have an entourage of Classed-up monsters protecting him at all times. Well, it¡¯s not our job to try and murder the guy, so the only way it¡¯ll be a problem is if he tries to murder our client. Who seems to directly contradict what he wants, and owns a massive shadow corporation.

    ¡­Shit, I guess I have to be ready for bloodshed.

    Beep, Beep, Beep!

    Three quick beeps ring out from Noland¡¯s pocket, and the scene through the teleporter shifts to the inside of a limousine. Ursula glances over her shoulder and beckons us to join her. Noland and I share a look and a quick nod, pick up our briefcases, and step through into a moving vehicle.

    ¡°We¡¯re stopping in thirty seconds.¡± Ursula says as she passes us two brochures. ¡°The itinerary for the night is there, and the swap for the twins is in three hours from now. If anything goes extremely wrong, I¡¯ll be ready for Shelby to relocate me in the blink of an eye.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. We¡¯ll take it from here; you just make sure the other sister doesn¡¯t get assassinated while we¡¯re here.¡± Noland grins and leans back against the white leather interior as he flips through the brochure. ¡°Hopefully we¡¯ll see you in three hours, no more, no less.¡±

    ¡°No more, no less.¡± Ursula repeats, then taps the teleporter with her knuckles. The scene shifts to the inside of a mansion with running water, wide-open ceilings, and a ton of exotic plants. ¡°Scare ¡®em shitless, Noland.¡±

    He smiles coldly and pats his heart. ¡°That¡¯s the plan.¡±

    Feeling like I¡¯m definitely missing a piece of history here, I lean into my own seat so that Ursula can squeak between Noland and I to get to the teleporter. She disappears in a puff of magic, and the construct melts into molten gold that evaporates before it can drip off the seat. Finally I look up and lock eyes with the Garza twin who I¡¯m supposed to protect for the evening¨Cand from the way she shies away from my gaze, I know it''s Dora.

    ¡°Serious question¨Care you two supposed to be body doubles?¡± I ask bluntly. ¡°Because you both have to act the same way for that to work, right?¡±

    Dora nods shyly. ¡°Gisela¡¯s personality is the public one, so I have to copy it. Don¡¯t worry; I¡¯ve had years of practice, so nobody will know.¡±

    ¡°Miss Garza, we have arrived.¡±

    Tension races up Dora¡¯s body like she¡¯d just been struck by lightning. The look in her eyes shifts to confidence and power, her body language loosens yet becomes more intimidating, and her overall aura balloons in intensity. Her shy smile turns into a coy grin, and she brushes her hair behind her ear with a confidence that was definitely not there a second ago.

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    I shudder at the transformation as her eyes lock with mine.

    ¡°Shall we?¡±

    The words flow from her lips in a perfect mimicry of Gisela¡¯s tone, cadence, and confidence. For a split second, I question whether that¡¯s actually Dora sitting across from me, and not Gisela screwing with us. But it doesn¡¯t matter who¡¯s sitting there, just that I keep them safe and alive.

    Noland shoves his brochure into his pocket with a grunt. ¡°Time to head out, Shelby. Read the brochure when you get a chance, and Gisela, make sure to tell us everywhere you want to go. We can¡¯t read your mind or guess your intentions, so make all that insanely clear to us. Got it?¡±

    For a split second, Gisela fades and Dora comes back. ¡°Got it.¡±

    Then it¡¯s gone, and Gisela is all that remains. Noland nods slightly and steps out of the car first, slowly looking around for any signs of danger. When the coast is clear he motions for Gisela to come out next, who confidently moves right past me and accepts his offered hand to help her stand. Leaving little old me alone in the car for all of two seconds before I slide out to join them.

    An unfamiliar landscape greets me with light winds and rustling, freakishly green grass. Everything looks like a manicured pavilion¨Ccomplete with marble architecture and a few fountains. A concert hall looms off in one direction, a three-story glass and metal monstrosity of a house in another. Splashes and laughter hints at a pool somewhere behind said house, and the unmistakable clink of a golf ball being hit followed by a dull thud confirms that there¡¯s a driving range somewhere too.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think this would be someone¡¯s house.¡± I note cautiously, adjusting my dress as I focus on my awareness. ¡°Do you recognize this place, Noland?¡±

    He replies by plastering on a fake smile and waving at someone who walks by. They trail bored eyes over him, and just as they start to look away, freeze in place and snap to stare at him in fear. All the colour drains from their face in the moment it takes them to raise a walkie-talkie to their ear and press the button.

    ¡°It-it¡¯s¡­ h-he¡¯s¡­¡± They start to stammer.

    Noland confidently walks up to them and gently lifts their finger from the button. ¡°Don¡¯t go ruining the surprise now. Besides, I¡¯m sure your boss already knows I¡¯m here¨Cthere¡¯s no way he doesn¡¯t know everything that¡¯s going on here. That would just be so shameful, wouldn¡¯t it? And you don¡¯t want to shame him, now do you?¡±

    His words are pleasant and kind, but his tone is icy and venomous. The employee shudders and nods vigorously, then bolts off the moment Noland lets go of their finger. He chuckles to himself as he watches them run off towards the house.

    ¡°Always the same, always the same.¡± He rolls a small golden blip between his fingers, then crushes it into dust. ¡°That either bought you safety like no other, Miss Garza, or it doomed you to be forever associated with me.¡±

    Gisela smiles to herself and motions for Noland to lead us towards the concert. ¡°I have survived being associated with worse.¡±

    ¡°No, you haven¡¯t.¡± Noland laughs humorlessly and offers her his arm. ¡°What¡¯s the first order of business?¡±

    She ignores his offer and slips her arm into mine instead. I shoot her a questioning glance, but from how she starts to pull, she¡¯s already made up her mind.

    ¡°The first order of business is enjoying myself and making it known that I am here. That starts with the entertainment venue, followed by the driving range, and then finally the house. Afterwards we will stay near the fountain where people can approach us if they wish.¡±

    Noland nods appreciatively. ¡°Good strategy if you want to look like the kind of person who gets things brought to them, not the other way around. What about the targets for tonight?¡±

    ¡°That is not my problem right now.¡± A smile graces Gisela¡¯s lips as she turns to face me. ¡°In, say, three hours we¡¯ll consider that part of the night.¡±

    Ah, they¡¯re not just splitting their time here¨Cthey¡¯re splitting the responsibility, too. Dora draws in everyone that wants to bring something to them, and then Gisela comes in to deal with everyone that needs to be talked to. As long as they actually communicate with each other, that¡¯ll save them a lot of energy.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s head on out.¡± I say with a pleasant, toothless smile. ¡°We don¡¯t want to keep anyone waiting.¡±

    For the next hour, we escort Dora-Gisela through the entirety of the party. She moves from conversation to conversation fluidly and effortlessly, ending those that apparently aren¡¯t going anywhere and forcibly extending the ones that she thinks are important. If I didn¡¯t know what was going on, I wouldn¡¯t be able to follow her conversational skills¨Ceverything would just look natural.

    The concert hall, driving range, and even the pool behind the mansion all go by without a single hitch. From the conversations I overhear everyone¡¯s varying levels of rich and important¨Cfrom foreign politicians to organized crime bosses¨Cand all of them give Gisela some level of respect. She must be more well known in the underworld than I thought.

    Yet every conversation takes on a far more bladed edge when they notice Noland standing there. For some, the respect deepens to an almost religious level. Others nearly shit themselves the second he smiles at them, and they start babbling things they probably shouldn¡¯t say just to make excuses and get away. Gisela adapts to every new response and pulls some information out of them before she covertly yanks on my arm to get us moving once more.

    But now that we stand at the entrance to the mansion, doors propped wide open with security standing guard with full armor and magic blazing, something finally clicks. We haven¡¯t seen a single member of the Preservation, HuSt, or any other pure magic organization yet. Which means they¡¯re either in the mansion right now, or they haven¡¯t shown up yet.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. They¡¯ll show up.¡± Gisela whispers as we walk into the mansion. ¡°There¡¯s a tension in the air that says we¡¯re still waiting for them. But things will change the second they arrive; I can¡¯t say for better or for worse, though.¡±

    Before I can say anything, a portly old guy with a face like a sleazy uncle spreads his arms and walks towards us. I have to hold back a sneer as he closes in, but if it was all up to me, I would¡¯ve caved his head in the second he got in smashing range. The guy gives off ¡®important hollywood director that¡¯s in charge of way too many young women¡¯s careers¡¯ energy.

    ¡°Gisela, my beautiful latina friend!¡± He grabs her free hand with both of his and leans down to kiss it. ¡°You turned down all my offers to have a nice, private weekend together while we discuss the futures of our endeavors! Do you not want a fruitful partnership with someone as powerful and influential as me?¡±

    Oh god, he¡¯s greasier than deep fried pizza. I don¡¯t even need to hear an introduction to know this is the guy that¡¯s in charge of the party. He definitely seems like the kind of person who¡¯d get off on trapping a bunch of rich and powerful people in the sky. But not to kill them¨Cno, just because of the insinuation.

    Gisela smiles kindly, but her grip on my arm tigghtens significantly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Matt, but I just can¡¯t stand looking at you. Maybe I¡¯ll talk to your replacement when you eventually kill yourself and someone a little more talented steps in over the smoking rubble.¡±

    Matt¡¯s eyes go wide at the insult, and for a brief moment, all sound in the room seems to die. My awareness makes it very clear that all eyes are on us at the moment, and I feel more than a few guns being drawn and pointed at us.

    I lean in close and whisper harshly into Gisela¡¯s ear. ¡°Uh, ma¡¯am, what the hell are you doing?¡±

    Her pleasant smile sends shivers down my spine, but before she can say anything, the world starts to shake. And instead of an explanation, I get a growing evil grin and a tug on my arm to bring all of us deeper into the mansion.

    ¡°The entire place just took off.¡± Nolan says casually, seemingly completely unbothered by all the hostility Gisela just dumped on us. ¡°If I had to guess, I¡¯d say the Preservation and HuSt will be making their entrances really soon. Was it worth kicking the hornet¡¯s nest?¡±

    Gisela laughs lightly. ¡°Of course it was. We can¡¯t destroy Matt¡¯s reputation and influence without making him look like the greasy creep that he is.¡±

 Chapter 106: Flying High With Hatred

    Is¡­ that a confirmation that she already knew who was hosting this thing? Why the hell did she keep that information from us, then? We¡¯re the ones that¡¯re supposed to be protecting her. So there¡¯s got to be a reason why she didn¡¯t tell us.

    But it¡¯s a little hard to wonder about something like that with laser pointers drawing patterns on my forehead. I pretend not to notice them and pull Gisela in a little closer, tugging on the shields I prepared beforehand to get them as ready for combat as possible.

    ¡°Why the hell¡­ why the hell¡­¡± I mutter to myself as we walk through scores of whispering guests. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you kept that shit from us. If you came here to declare goddamn war, we could¡¯ve prepared a little better if we knew.¡±

    Noland sighs and pats me on the shoulder. ¡°This is just how selfish rich people work, Shelby. I should know¨CI¡¯m one of them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but you actively run your mouth before you do something stupid.¡±

    ¡°Guilty as charged.¡± He laughs and looks around. ¡°Ah, man, I really didn¡¯t miss this kind of atmosphere. It always makes me want to do something drastic to get away from it all.¡±

    ¡°Then why the hell did you volunteer to come instead of Ursula?¡±

    He shrugs. And when it¡¯s obvious that that¡¯s the closest thing to an answer I¡¯m going to get, I let him do his own thing while I focus on keeping Gisela safe from all the hate she just brewed. We pass groups of gossiping rich people that go silent the moment we¡¯re in earshot, and even though Gisela tries to talk to them, they all just back away and glance over at Matt.

    She purses her lips and frowns. ¡°I thought I¡¯d have at least a few sympathizers in the crowd. Oh well, others will come forward when they¡¯re not in Matt¡¯s earshot. Let¡¯s go to the roof; I saw some old friends up there earlier, and they must be buzzing with anticipation for the Preservation¡¯s arrival.¡±

    Roof. Yeah. I definitely know how to get up there. My neck twists and swivels as I look for a set of stairs that doesn¡¯t just go to one of the many weird half-floors above, and eventually settle on a more closed-in staircase that goes higher than the others. A nod at Noland gets his attention, and another nod in the direction of the staircase gets my intent across.

    ¡°Hopefully there aren¡¯t any proximity mines on the stairs.¡± He chuckles.

    ¡°There won¡¯t be; Matt wouldn¡¯t risk damaging his own house.¡± Gisela assures us. ¡°We¡¯ll have to be careful the moment we step off the grounds, though; I expect heavy sniper fire and land mines when I try to leave.¡±

    Noland nods as his expression darkens. ¡°I¡¯ll send a warning message. Any special magics we should look out for?¡±

    ¡°No, not that I¡¯m aware of. Matt won¡¯t risk it while the Preservation is closely monitoring him. Unless they don¡¯t show before I leave, in which case, just imagine a worst-case scenario and prepare for that.¡±

    A memory of the sky opening up to reveal a mech plays before my eyes. Ursula¡¯s magical nuke and Noland¡¯s sympathy spell that dismembered the krarig follow right after. I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s worse than anything Gisela is thinking of, so we¡¯ll definitely have a good plan for it. Noland still takes the warning extremely seriously, and as we climb the stairs towards the roof, I hear him quietly muttering what sounds like a message to Ursula under his breath.

    We stop at the door, where sounds of a normal conversation and the slight whooshing of wind play from the other side. I share a look with Noland as he puts himself between Gisela and the door, then I move to watch the bottom of the stairs as he slowly pulls the door open. A guard in a black suit steps into the stairwell just as I¡¯m about to follow Gisela through.

    He aims a glowing hand at me. Magic wells up from his palm in a blistering heat, and I have to stop myself from flicking a projectile directly into his face. Murdering people isn¡¯t the best way to keep a low profile, even if Gisela did her best to make us as high-key as possible.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you, buddy.¡± I warn him as I flip a shield through my knuckles. ¡°Your boss wouldn¡¯t like the collateral damage, and he¡¯d hate to have to clean up all your blood and guts.¡±

    My words seem to stun the guard, and his spell falters. He swears and aims his hand at me once again, but for some reason, his spell won¡¯t form properly. I raise an eyebrow and watch him struggle for a few seconds, enraptured by his seeming incompetence. Then I flick the shield into the stairwell, ignite it as a barrier that seals him from us, and back through the door Gisela¡¯s still holding open for me.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± I nod as I take the handle from her and push it closed. ¡°Noland, is it hard to cast spells when you¡¯re scared?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± He turns from watching a pair of people knife fighting with blades made of pure light. ¡°Oh, yeah, anything that makes you lose focus can make it hard to cast spells. I¡¯ve never had it happen to me, but I¡¯ve watched enough people fumble their important spells in the heat of the moment that I can¡¯t deny how it works. What brought up the question?¡±

    Gisela takes my arm and drags me to a group of well-dressed people. ¡°I just watched a guy fumble his spell and then he couldn¡¯t get it back up. Maybe we¡¯re just built different.¡±

    Noland laughs and moves to take an overlook position at the edge of the roof where he can see the ground below and the entire roof without moving his head. I choose to take his amusement as confirmation that I¡¯m right. Or it¡¯s another weird thing about Worth classes and how we cast spells. That¡¯s probably got a fifty percent chance of being right.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Hey, Gisa!¡± A man in a simple suit smiles and waves as we approach. ¡°Perfect timing; we were just talking about the deal the Preservation¡¯s trying to push through. I think it¡¯s absolute bullshit, and it¡¯ll kill any magical ingenuity from now on just so they can pretend to be the big bad gatekeepers. Tilly¡¯s in camp ¡®it doesn¡¯t matter¡¯, and Kendrick is licking their boots like the good boy he is.¡±

    A snort and crossed arms draws the attention to a black man with long, curly hair pulled back by a struggling blue scrunchie. His posture is standoffish, and when his gaze flicks to me and Noland, he doesn¡¯t even register us.

    ¡°If you call seriously considering the positives and negatives of what they¡¯re proposing ¡®boot licking¡¯, then yes. But your skull seems a little too thick today for higher thought.¡±

    The suited man laughs and gestures at Kendrick. ¡°See? Bootlicker.¡±

    ¡°Shut up, James.¡± A woman in a very low cut dress and so much body jewelry that she looks like she just crawled out of an ancient tomb. She must be Tilly. ¡°This is one of the few times we actually have to be serious. Gisela, how is the investment going to stand up against these new regulations? Will anything change?¡±

    Gisela raises an eyebrow and lets go of my arm. ¡°You¡¯re talking like it¡¯s already a done deal. Did something happen while I wasn¡¯t looking?¡±

    ¡°Well, no, but¨C¡± James starts, but pauses when he sees Gisela¡¯s pinched smile. ¡°You know how the Preservation is, Gisa. Their last obstacle is HuSt, and with Matt backing them, those barbarians won¡¯t be able to say no. The entire United States has already given the Preservation permission, you know¨Cthe rest of the world isn¡¯t far behind.¡±

    ¡°Which is all the more reason not to stir the pot.¡± Kendrick insists. ¡°If we can just get out foot in the door, we¡¯ll be able to secure a steady supply of legal coins for the rest of our lives. No more buying through the resort, no more scrounging through danger, no more hiding! This is exactly what we¡¯re looking for!¡±

    Tilly sighs and shakes her head. ¡°It¡¯s never going to be that easy. Nothing¡¯s going to change. We¡¯ll still deal with everything the same way, except we¡¯ll be dodging the Preservation alone instead of the Preservation and other companies hoping to find the coins before they do.¡±

    ¡°Well, then, we just have to destabilize them! HuSt and the Preservation hate each other, so all we have to do is get them fighting.¡± James cuts in, looking to Gisela for agreement. ¡°If they fight on Matt¡¯s turf, he¡¯ll lose face. And in a few years¨Cno, a few months¨Cwe¡¯ll step in and take his place!¡±

    Suddenly, all the attention is on Gisela. I don¡¯t have to know the history here to see three investors and board members trying to convince the owner of their points of view. Gisela purses her lips and crosses her arms, tapping her foot as she pretends to think over their proposals. Except she¡¯s got her own plan, whatever the hell it is.

    ¡°Why are we settling for anything?¡± She eventually says. ¡°HuSt and the Preservation aren¡¯t the only powerful organizations. All we have to do is get the backing of a third party that can oppose them.¡±

    Kendrick snorts and spread his arms. ¡°Where the hell are we going to find someone like that? All the good orgs are already in bed with foreign powers.¡±

    ¡°Except for the resort.¡± Tilly¡¯s voice is so quiet, it¡¯s almost a whisper. ¡°But¡­ you know who runs it, Gisela. We can¡¯t get on his bad side. Or any of his inner circle; I heard one of them held off a Preservation attack ship on her own to stop them from killing a krarig just a few weeks ago.¡±

    Oh? The news actually got out? Well, they painted Ursula as the villain, as we expected. Whatever; when Call actually starts digging for real, we¡¯ll rip the rot out of that organization like a beating heart. And, frankly, I don¡¯t give a shit if that makes it collapse.

    I take a quick look around and signal at Noland. He shakes his head and makes an ¡®X¡¯ with his hands; still no sign of the Preservation or HuSt. Just as he goes to turn around, an echoing crack fills the sky. A single sickly green line trails through the clear sky like a crack in a dam, and two sets of fingers reach out to grip either side.

    With a ripping squelch, the crack is ripped open like a wound in existence. Behind it is a mech just like all the others I¡¯ve seen, except its chest is fitted with a heavily armored¡­ thing instead of a beam emitter. I drum my fingers against Pearl¡¯s shell to get her attention, but it isn¡¯t needed. Her entire being is locked on the Preservation¡¯s grand entrance.

    ¡°They changed the chest unit from a weapon to transport.¡± She says with a cold edge in her voice. ¡°We used to do that when we ___________. Oh¡­ right, um, sorry for the censorship. It feels like that hasn¡¯t happened in a little while.¡±

    I hide my grimace and blink the pain behind my eyes away. ¡°Gisela, get close.¡±

    She¡¯s at my arm before the words fully leave my mouth. I glance over my shoulder at her friends, but they¡¯re already so surrounded by their own bodyguard that I can¡¯t make a single one of them out.

    ¡°They¡¯re thinking too small.¡± Gisela whispers just loud enough for me to hear. ¡°As long as the Preservation exists, magic will slowly rot away in the name of ¡®safety¡¯. We need innovators, pioneers, risk takers¨Cnot pencil pushers looking over a pile of applications to determine who ¡®deserves¡¯ a class coin.¡±

    Noland hurries over to us and pats my shoulder. ¡°Well, we agree on that. But as long as people find coins and don¡¯t use them right away, we need someone to look over them. Or else rich assholes with private armies will make a monopoly with blood and suffering.¡±

    Gisela frowns. ¡°We¡¯re not like that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, right. Tell yourself that a few years down the line when you kill a ten year old because they found a good Class.¡± Noland laughs bitterly. ¡°We¡¯re going to talk to whoever the Preservation¡¯s bringing down. I¡¯m going to put the fear of god in them, and if that goes well, maybe we¡¯ll actually have some fair discussions where humanity can win.¡±

    ¡°You want HuSt to win?¡± Gisela asks in disbelief.

    I sigh and resist the urge to facepalm. ¡°He means everyone. Like, every living person on the planet. If the Preservation wins, they control way too much. If HuSt wins¡­ well, I don¡¯t know them well enough to say. We need competition or a completely benevolent third party.¡±

    Noland pats himself on the chest. I¡­ yeah, I guess we¡¯re as close to that third part as we¡¯re going to get. Does he want us to be some kind of mediator in the discussion? We didn¡¯t even know what was going on up until a few hours ago. Did he just decide the plan?

    ¡°All I want is what¡¯s best for GI.¡± Gisela says pleasantly. ¡°If you start preaching dangerous childish ideals, HuSt and the Preservation will eat you alive.¡±

    ¡°No, they¡¯d eat us alive if we weren¡¯t strong enough to back up those childish ideals.¡± Noland puts his foot on the edge of the roof and looks straight into the chest piece of the descending mech. ¡°I have more than enough power now, and the backing of some dangerously competent people. If the Preservation insists on going down the same path as my father, they¡¯ll join him in death.¡±

 Chapter 107: Ruthless Tension

    ¡°You killed your dad?¡±

    Noland tilts his head to the side. ¡°Did¡­ I could¡¯ve sworn I told you the story. That doesn¡¯t matter right now; push your awareness to its limits. There¡¯s a very good chance we¡¯re going to be attacked the moment they see us.¡±

    I nod and change absolutely nothing. ¡°You owe me a story when we¡¯re safe.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that; I plan on telling it to everyone here who hasn¡¯t heard it yet.¡± Noland laughs and gestures down at the mech as it touches down. ¡°Let¡¯s head down and say hi.¡±

    Yeah, going right into the fray of people who want to kill us is definitely an excellent idea. But there¡¯s no real point delaying it; they¡¯re going to see us eventually, and the sooner we get this out of the way, the sooner I can stop looking over my shoulder every few seconds. I roll my shoulder and flick a coin at the edge of the roof.

    A shield bursts into being, but¡­ it feels¡­ a little weird. My awareness washes over it, and instead of one solid object, it feels like¡­ countless perfectly interlocking smaller ones. I narrow my eyes in suspicion as I walk onto it, tap my foot to get it moving, and feel as it descends just like I commanded it to.

    ¡°Is something off, Shelby?¡± Noland asks. ¡°You¡¯ve got a look on your face.¡±

    ¡°Honestly¡­ I don¡¯t know. It feels like my spell evolved, but I didn¡¯t get any kind of notification that it did.¡± I look over at him, but all he¡¯s doing is adjusting his watch and cufflinks. ¡°Can spells even evolve if we¡¯re not on the other world?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°You can¡¯t actually pass any thresholds, either. Everything gets checked when you go back, so don¡¯t get surprised if you suddenly have quite a few spells ready to evolve right when you go back.¡±

    Huh. I guess that¡¯s why relocation hasn¡¯t evolved yet. Because I¡¯ve definitely put more than enough Worth into it to meet that threshold. So what the hell is happening with my shield? And did something happen to relocation and projectile, or is shield the only one that¡¯s acting weird?

    I set my jaw and focus on the mech that stands taller than Matt¡¯s house. Depending on how things go with Noland and the Preservation, there¡¯s a really good chance I¡¯ll get to find out in a few minutes.

    Gisela grips my arm hard and pats Noland on the shoulder to get our attention. ¡°Let me talk to them first, please. I still haven¡¯t put together who you actually are, Noland, but if you¡¯re confident things will get violent, please don¡¯t reveal yourself right away.¡±

    Noland clicks his tongue and frowns. ¡°Some people already know who I am, Gisa. Just seeing my face will be enough.¡±

    ¡°Then do something about your face.¡± She says flatly. ¡°Just because you hate the Preservation, it doesn¡¯t mean they can¡¯t be useful.¡±

    He sneers at that last remark, but doesn¡¯t debate it. ¡°Fine. Shelby, can I borrow the thing?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow, then pull my mask from my inventory. ¡°How do these things work if different people wear the same mask?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea. This isn¡¯t really the kind of thing I focused on while I was over there.¡± He accepts the mask with a nod, then presses it to his face. Noland disappears. In his place is a man in his clothes, with his mannerisms, but my brain just won¡¯t accept that he¡¯s Noland. ¡°So? Is it working?¡±

    It takes all my focus to get my brain to register that¨Cyes¨Cthe masked guy right next to me is Noland. ¡°It feels like my brain is going to explode just from looking at you. Right, Gisela?¡±

    I turn to her, but she¡¯s frozen. Eyes wide, body tense and ready to run at any moment. She¡¯s staring at Noland like he¡¯s a completely different person, not just that she¡¯s having trouble focusing on him.

    Noland leans in close to her and snaps his fingers. She flinches and tries to pull away, but I stop her from jumping off the platform. ¡°Wow. I thought March and Ursula were screwing with me when they said how hard it was to recognize someone with one of these on. But you literally watched me put it on and your brain isn¡¯t letting you recognize me.¡±

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± Gisela demands.

    ¡°Me? I¡¯m nobody.¡± Noland laughs, and Gisela shrinks away. ¡°For now, at least. Come on, you two¨Cif we want first dibs on the Preservation¡¯s time, we have to be right there when they leave the safety of their mech.¡±

    Gisela is overwhelmingly reluctant to follow us when the platform hits the ground, and more than a few times, I catch myself wondering who the man next to me is. I know he¡¯s Noland. But the mask¨Cit¡¯s like it''s screaming into my brain that I¡¯m wrong. That the man behind the mask isn¡¯t anyone I know. There¡¯s so much more magic in that thing than I thought.

    Somehow, I keep my mind on track for the minutes it takes us to cross the grass to the mech¡¯s landing spot. Seared circles under its feet and a trail of smoldering green flames behind it show evidence of some kind of boosters, but I didn¡¯t see any when it descended. Maybe they¡¯re¡­ invisible flames or something?

    ¡°Do you know why things are on fire?¡± I ask Noland, but the question¡¯s really aimed at Pearl.

    He shrugs. Pearl nods.

    ¡°They modified the mech with softflame thrusters. They¡¯re completely invisible, and they burn way less fuel for the same results. If they were a little smarter they would¡¯ve realized they could just use raw magic for it, but I guess they¡¯re just too dumb for that.¡± She sighs and shakes her head, though her expression seems satisfied. ¡°If you want to use heavy weapons in populated areas, you have to make everyone there feel safe that you¡¯re not going to accidentally hurt them.¡±

    She keeps going on about military tactics, and if I wasn¡¯t about to meet some of my worst enemies, I would¡¯ve kept listening. But the hiss of pressure equalizing and small plumes of greenish fumes rising from the mech¡¯s chest area steals my attention away. I clench my fists, hoping against hope that I won¡¯t recognize anyone that walks out. Either from anything in person, or from¡­ association with Brandon.

    The first person to step out is a woman armored in a suit so tight that the metal hugs her curves. Nothing like Ursula¡¯s utilitarian suit, or Call, Whisper, and Shout¡¯s body hiding armor. She wants to be seen, recognized, and¨Cif I had to guess¨Cadored.

    ¡°Hello, there, everyone!¡± She calls excitedly and strikes a¡­ well¡­ the best way I can describe it is a ¡®sexy¡¯ pose. ¡°You can stop bickering and start staring, because Gasp is here to steal your breath away!¡±

    Stunned silence melts away into raucous cheers. My heart skips a beat as this scantily armored woman looks my way, but my awareness takes hold of the unwelcome sensation and crushes it into nothing. Magic? Yeah, I¡¯m pretty damn sure that was just magic. But¡­ it was really weak. Like, weak enough that it shouldn¡¯t really affect a normal person.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Masked Noland clears his throat to get my attention. ¡°Gasp is a psychic. I don¡¯t think I need to tell you more.¡±

    ¡°Is she¡­ super weak?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°The opposite, actually. She¡¯s a performer first and foremost, and she wants an audience captive to her skills, not her magic. That pulse you felt was a very small mental stimulant to get everyone over their shock and reluctance.¡±

    I stare at him blankly. ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    ¡°You¡­ didn¡¯t you read the message from our mutual friend?¡±

    ¡­Call? Call sent a message, and I didn¡¯t know about it? How¡¯s that possible?

    Noland sighs and shakes his head. ¡°Forget it; March must¡¯ve forgotten to tell you. Long story short, we have a surface level understanding of all the Speakers, their classes, and their personalities. We don¡¯t know their real names, how powerful they are, or how influential they are yet. That¡¯s coming when our friend gets the information.¡±

    Gasp blows the audience a few kisses through her helmet as she walks into thin air. A gangplank stays under her feet the entire time, perfectly matching her walking speed until she reaches the ground. It latches onto the dirt with a soft click, and Gasp slowly turns in circles as she takes in the cheers and attention.

    ¡°Thank you, thank you for your love! But unfortunately, I am only the opening act tonight. The real guests of honour¨Cthe people who are fighting to preserve humanity¨Care here to speak to you!¡± She gestures grandiosely at the mech, and everyone¡¯s heads turn to look. Everyone but me and Noland. ¡°Put your hands together for Shout, Phineas Fallgrace, Lucille Sherwood, and¨C¡±

    Time stutters to a stop as the four people step onto the gangplank. I recognize Shout from my very first encounter with the Preservation. Barely, though, since they were standing in a hole in the sky with a giant mech. Two of the others, Phineas and Lucille, mean nothing to me. Just a man and a woman in suits. But the last one¡­ a mountain of a man with a cruel smile and the eyes of a predator¡­ my stomach turns and my blood boils at the resemblance between him and his cowardly asshole of a son.

    ¡°Ernest Highroller!¡±

    Maybe I should just kill him now. Save all of us a lot of time. I look over at Noland, who seems completely relaxed at all this at first glance. But then I look at him with my awareness.

    Gold. Everything is gold. Suffocating, stifling, and all-consuming gold. It clings to everything I can see like a fog, but from the way nobody else is reacting, they can¡¯t see it. Hell, I bet Noland doesn¡¯t even know I can see it. I glance down at my hands, expecting to be just as gold-coated as everything else, but there¡¯s nothing.

    It touches the sides of my shoes, but doesn¡¯t climb my body. He¡¯s excluded exactly me from whatever he¡¯s doing. That¡¯s¡­ terrifying.

    Ernest, Shout, and the others walk down the gangplank without waving. Shout holds his arms behind his back, carefully scanning the crowd, and he pauses on me for a split second too long. He keeps going right after, but there¡¯s no doubt in my mind¨Che just recognized me. And¡­ I kind of am a wanted criminal. I¡¯ll have to be extra careful from now on.

    ¡­Wait, why am I calling Shout a guy? Is it just because Gasp is a woman, so I think they should be in pairs? Or does my awareness know something I don¡¯t?

    ¡°To everyone here¡­ I thank you for coming.¡±

    Ernest¡¯s voice is deep and measured, unwavering with confidence. But there¡¯s an edge of a sneer in his words, like he¡¯s looking down at everyone else and stifling a laugh. He walks right past Shout and stands next to Gasp as the other three slowly make their way past him and continue towards the house.

    ¡°You may think this is Matteus¡¯ gathering. He is nothing but the pawn that moved first, setting the rest of the game in motion.¡± He continues in his strange, nearly demeaning tone. ¡°Soon enough, HuSt will arrive. They are a danger to our prosperity. No matter what honeyed words they whisper, do not forget or forgive what they did in the past. Many of you lost loved ones. All of you lost profits and business ventures. Do not let the anger you felt in those following days fade. Let its burning heat warm your body and spur you towards the proper future.¡±

    Noland makes a half-choking, half snort of displeasure. Ernest pauses and looks directly at him, but from how his eyes don¡¯t change, he doesn¡¯t recognize him. So he isn¡¯t powerful enough to overcome the mask¡¯s magic.

    ¡°Do you have something to say, bodyguard?¡± Ernest steps away from Gasp, who looks like she wants to follow him, but chooses against it. ¡°Do you know the woman who hired you? Gisela Garza; a small-time hack who desperately struggles against the overwhelming tide of the future.¡±

    He glances disdainfully at Gisela. To her credit, she doesn¡¯t wither under his gaze. If anything, his dismissal seems to empower her. And when he looks away again, a venomous grin splits her face.

    ¡°Nobody can stand against the Preservation. HuSt is nothing but terrorists trying to regain their former glory, all governments can¡¯t see past their own borders, and anyone else isn¡¯t worth mentioning.¡±

    ¡°Hey, Shelby. I don¡¯t think he recognized you.¡± Noland says casually. ¡°He would¡¯ve mentioned us if he did. But¡­ I guess you¡¯re still not on his radar.¡±

    Ernest frowns, then focuses on my face. ¡°No, I recognize the girl. One of the resort¡¯s worthless lackeys. I believe you fall under my final category: not worth mentioning.¡±

    Noland spreads his palms and his arms, then curls his fingers into guns. ¡°Hey, you¡¯re the one who came over to talk to us from a little noise I made. If that doesn¡¯t shout ¡®insecure dictator¡¯, I don¡¯t know what does. Hell, the only thing worse than that would¡¯ve been sicking a Speaker on us.¡±

    ¡°You are not worth the effort.¡± Ernest sighs theatrically and turns his back to us. ¡°If you have anything to discuss with us, Miss Garza, do not attempt speaking with me. You are below my attention.¡±

    Gisela giggles cutely, which is the most unsettling sound I¡¯ve heard her make. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to the others, then. Is Phineas still having that little illegal problem?¡±

    Ernest¡¯s back twitches. ¡°He is not.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good. All the sixteen year olds of the world can breathe a sigh of relief.¡± Her smile empties of all mirth, and her eyes darken with a hatred so vitriolic it can only end in death. ¡°Or maybe not. Are you still supplying him with supple, young flesh from struggling countries?¡±

    Everything goes deadly quiet. My awareness flares. I step in front of Gisela and slam three shields into the ground as a fist crashes into the first one. It doesn¡¯t even break, and on the other side of it is a visage of hatred and violence I barely recognize as Ernest.

    ¡°You bitch. How do you know those words?¡±

    Gisela raises a hand to her mouth and gasps. ¡°Whatever are you talking about? Was that supposed to be some kind of secret? A code word for human trafficking, maybe?¡±

    Every vein in Ernest¡¯s forehead bulges. ¡°Gasp. Undo it.¡±

    Gasp gleefully snaps off a salute. ¡°Got it, boss man! Alright, everyone, forget what you just heard!¡±

    A tidal wave of magic slams into my shields. The first one breaks immediately. It takes all of two seconds for the second to follow. Yet the third holds strong. I didn¡¯t think Gasp¡¯s magic would be a physical thing. Unless¡­ whatever changed in my shields lets them block intangible things.

    Ernest backs up and shakes his fist, then gets right back into his posture and turns away from us. I shatter my last remaining shield before he can notice Gasp¡¯s magic didn¡¯t hit us.

    ¡°It was unpleasant speaking to you again, Gisela.¡± He says as the crowd turns from confused to cheering with adoration once more. ¡°Hopefully you learn your place before it can be taught to you.¡±

    Gisela just smiles. An empty smile, filled with experience that I don¡¯t want to ask about. I gesture at Noland, and without a word, we make our way away from the Preservation.

    ¡°He isn¡¯t leaving here alive.¡± Noland states.

    ¡°I¡¯ll pay you ten times your fee if you make his death excruciating, long, and public.¡± Gisela replies pleasantly. ¡°And if you can bring Phineas to me, I¡¯ll double that.¡±

    I swallow hard at the pain in her voice. ¡°Should I ask what you¡¯re going to do with him?¡±

    Gisela squeezes my arm hard. ¡°Not if you want to sleep soundly ever again.¡±

    As we walk, unspoken history chokes the air around me. Noland¡¯s dead dad. The reason everyone here should be scared of him, but some don¡¯t apparently even know him. Why Gisela and Dora lied to us. What they actually know. What their intent is for this party.

    No matter what I imagine, none of the scenarios end with anything less than a slaughter.

 Chapter 108: Humanity Strong

    Noland grips my shoulder. I turn to meet his face, and he thumbs over his shoulder at the concert venue. Silently, I coax Gisela into following us there. Stares dig into us like thrown daggers, most of them not quite filled with understanding, but fake emotions and erased memories. Whatever respect I had for Gasp turns to dust and floats away on the wind.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know Phineas liked kids.¡± Noland says quietly. ¡°Now¡­ I don¡¯t want to bring anything up¡­ but does that¡­ well¡­¡± He shifts awkwardly. ¡°Actually, nevermind. It doesn¡¯t make a damn flicker of a difference, and your history is yours alone.¡±

    Gisela¡¯s smile never leaves her face. ¡°It isn¡¯t anywhere near as bad as you¡¯re imagining. At least not for us. I was made aware of Phineas¡¯ tastes at a specific conference, where he couldn¡¯t keep his eyes from someone¡¯s daughter. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation and excitement at the prospect of being given a coin. Three hours later, she was walking around with Phineas. And her eyes were empty.¡±

    ¡°Jesus¡­¡±

    ¡°My faith has been¡­ well¡­ let¡¯s say ¡®obliterated¡¯ by what I¡¯ve seen. No loving God would let this happen, and I won¡¯t ever pray to a God who allowed this to happen.¡± Gisela looks down at the grass underfoot and sighs. ¡°I wish I could tell you the entire truth. But it isn¡¯t my truth alone to tell. It could endanger everything we built.¡±

    ¡°I get it. Way better than you probably think.¡± Noland assures her as we reach the doors. He pulls it open and steps aside to let us in. ¡°The world right after the apocalypse was¡­ vulnerable. It had room for the greatest heroes and the worst villains to appear. At first, the Preservation were real heroes. I don¡¯t really know what changed; maybe some people died, maybe some had changes of heart¨Chell, maybe they just went mask-off and finally showed their true intentions.¡±

    He shrugs as she steps in behind us, pulling the door shut so it slams against the frame. ¡°The worst part of it is that the Preservation does a lot of everyday good. Helping struggling countries, victims of apocalypse-events, and even overseeing coin distribution where there¡¯s a lot of violence. It¡¯s just that at the tippy top, there¡¯s nothing but rot trickling down. And it¡¯s slowly poisoning everything else.¡±

    I nod in agreement. Before I got my coin, the Preservation felt like a necessary evil; keeping everyone safe from anyone who got a Class and decided that makes them better than everyone else. Well turns out that ¡®dangerous Class-bearers¡¯ is a really loose term, and a lot of the time, it just means ¡®someone we can¡¯t control¡¯. And if everyone at the top is like Phineas, Gasp and Ernest¡­ well, how can you save an organization that¡¯s organized by the worst people you know?

    ¡°The only positive thing about them is that they aren¡¯t HuSt.¡± Gisela laughs weakly. ¡°At least the Preservation hasn¡¯t tried to take over a country with raw force. Only through complete control of coins and anyone with a Class.¡±

    Noland¡¯s snort echoes through the relatively empty halls. ¡°That¡¯s like saying a stab in the stomach isn¡¯t as bad as a bullet to the brain. Personally, I¡¯d rather not get killed in the first place.¡±

    ¡°So what do we do about it?¡± I ask. ¡°And don¡¯t just say ¡®resist them¡¯. That¡¯s about as useful as a road sign telling a runaway semi-truck that the speed limit is fifty.¡±

    ¡°We kill the ones that need to go.¡± Noland says matter-of-factly. ¡°People want you to think violence never works, but sometimes, people need to be scared of death. Ernest literally tried to kill you ten minutes ago. He thinks he¡¯s a god among men just because of his position. I¡­ well¡­ I thought they¡¯d be at least a little scared from what happened a while ago.¡±

    Is¡­ he talking about when he¡­ oh, wait. Noland killed his dad. Now he¡¯s talking about scaring people into feeling like their actions have consequences. Could he have¡­ just to prove a point? No. I refuse to believe he did something so violent just to scare someone else. Maybe his dad deserved to die just as much as Phineas does.

    That¡¯s not a pleasant thought. But Noland got his money from somewhere, right? How else could he afford to personally bankroll the entire resort and still have money left to spare? There¡¯s a really significant hole in how everything works. I bet that the reason he killed his dad will fit perfectly in that empty space.

    Warning.

    Noland¡¯s neck snapped to the source of the sound. A speaker off in the corner, crackling with static and spewing incomprehensible noises that are almost words. It wasn¡¯t making a single sound a second ago.

    ¡°Did that just say ¡®warning¡¯?¡± Gisela asks with heavy suspicion. ¡°What could it be warning us about?¡±

    ¡°HuSt.¡± Noland mutters. ¡°Get to the arena. If they¡¯re sending who I think they¡¯re sending, they¡¯ll give Gasp a good fight for the spotlight.¡±

    I turn towards the tunnels that lead towards the actual arena. Something¡­ strange filters out of them. My awareness picks up on it instantly, like a sticky fog of invisible emotions rolling over the ground and around my feet. Fear stands out at the forefront, but not the kind of fear that sends you running and trembling. It¡¯s the kind of fear that sets your heart pumping, your adrenaline roaring, and puts a dangerous grin on some people¡¯s faces.

    Maybe I could call it anticipation. But anticipation doesn''t send a chill down my spine and get me checking every dark corner. Gisela shudders as her fingers drum against my forearm and her eyes dart quickly in every direction. Noland¡¯s a mystery behind my mask, but his body isn¡¯t shaking at all. He¡¯s ready for this. Because he knows what¡¯s coming.

    ¡°Noland, what¡¯s waiting in there for us?¡± I ask as the speaker screams another few ¡®warning¡¯s at us.

    He shrugs with just his shoulders. ¡°I could tell you the name of one person, but I don¡¯t know who¡¯s coming along with him. Maybe he¡¯s alone, maybe he¡¯s got an entourage, or maybe they¡¯re sending an entire party. Might as well save a minute by walking in there and seeing for ourselves.¡±

    Warning: lockdown initiated.

    Iron bars slam down from the top of the tunnel with an ear-shattering crash, followed by a cacophony of magnetic clicks and the buzzing of an electric current. I whip around to try and find a way out, but the way we came in is sealed off too.

    Dangerous magics detected. Please remain calm and do not move while the problem is identified and dealt with.

    ¡°Identified?¡± I mutter and look around. ¡°It¡¯s obviously HuSt. But the Preservation came here in a damn mech¨Chow come that didn¡¯t trigger any warning alarms?¡±

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    ¡°Well, we weren¡¯t here when they appeared, so maybe it¡¯s only for the venue?¡± Gisela suggests.

    Noland shakes his head. ¡°The house would¡¯ve locked down before anywhere else, but it didn¡¯t. I bet it¡¯s because the Preservation called ahead to tell Matt how they were showing up, but there¡¯s no way HuSt would¡¯ve given him the same consideration. And now we¡¯re stuck here.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ no, we¡¯re not.¡± I hold out three coins and tap them to each of us. ¡°Say the word and I¡¯ll get us into the arena.¡±

    A hand stops me from throwing them right away. Noland takes a deep breath, pulls off the mask, and cracks his knuckles. The golden aura from before flares right back up, and after a few moments of breathing, Noland gives me the go-ahead. I nod and walk up to the crackling gate, the bars separated by a good three inches each, and toss the coins right through them.

    I teleport Noland first. Then Gisela. She stumbles a little out of surprise, but gathers herself almost instantly while Noland stares straight ahead. Finally, I activate my own relocation and join them beyond the easily escaped trap. Warm weight grips my arm yet again, and Noland motions for us to slowly move forward.

    ¡°What do you want with HuSt?¡± He asks.

    It takes Gisela a second to recognize he¡¯s talking to her. ¡°Honestly¡­ I don¡¯t really know. They were already on the downturn when we started off, and they never had control of where we lived. I know they¡¯re horrible¨CI¡¯ve read everything on them¨Cbut I don¡¯t have any personal grudges. So it¡¯s going to be purely business.¡±

    ¡°Sure, see how long that lasts when you¡¯re face to face with them.¡± Noland chuckles mirthlessly and locks eyes with me. ¡°Shelby, keep some shields at the ready. HuSt is unpredictable first and foremost, but that means we know they¡¯ll do anything. Be ready to be insulted, complemented, hit on, and even condemned in the same breath.¡±

    So¡­ they¡¯re not unified. The Preservation definitely feels like a huge monolithic company, but I haven¡¯t really dealt with selfish people with their own agendas yet. I square my shoulders, focus a little more on my awareness, and follow Noland into the sprawling seating of the arena.

    We¡¯re up on the second level of seats¨Cwhich is actually the ground floor, since the standing room and the seats below are dug into the ground. People are milling about down there, including Matt himself, surrounded by a dozen bodyguards with magic at the ready. Everyone else is either sitting in a seat waiting to see what happens, standing in hopes of talking to HuSt, or cowering near the closed-off exits.

    ¡°Oh, this is going to be good.¡± Noland smirks and leans over the railing. ¡°Take a seat if you want; we¡¯re watching for a few minutes.¡±

    Gisela startles and tries to leave. I don¡¯t let her. She looks back at me with a baffled expression, her mouth moving but no words come out. That seems to shock her horribly, and she raises both hands to her mouth as her fingers tap at open lips.

    ¡°Shelby, can you talk?¡± Noland asks.

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Yeah. No problem.¡±

    Gisela huffs and crosses her arms, then pulls me down into a pair of seats with a good view of the stage. She motions for me to give her something, and when she sees that she needs to give me a little more than just some empty air grabbing, she rolls her eyes and switches to a motion like drawing on a piece of paper.

    ¡°Sorry; I don¡¯t have any paper.¡±

    Noland tosses her a notepad and a simple, disposable ballpoint pen. She catches it with practiced ease, then nods thanks to the back of his head. He still doesn¡¯t turn around, his entire focus locked on the stage.

    As she hastily scribbles something down, I take a deep breath and try to feel the magic that¡¯s stealing her voice away. My awareness can¡¯t feel anything so¡­ maybe it only affects people without classes? Before I can think any further, a notebook hits my shoulder and I turn to find a note written in handwriting I distinctly remember seeing on the krarig.

    ¡®Why can¡¯t I talk? Is Noland doing this, or is it HuSt?¡¯

    I shrug. ¡°Noland, this is HuSt, right?¡±

    He nods. ¡°One-hundred percent. It¡¯s an extremely high range, low powered muting spell. Wherever HuSt is, they¡¯re close enough to affect this place from the ground.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re standing where Ursula and I were.¡±

    ¡°Probably a good call. And they didn¡¯t know it¡¯d be in the sky, so they¡¯re getting together someone who can fly or teleport them right now.¡± His nods become more vigorous as he convinces himself. ¡°That feels so right I don¡¯t know why I didn¡¯t think of it before. Which means they¡¯ll be here any second now, and Matt¡¯s going to be very annoyed when he can¡¯t talk.¡±

    Gisela giggles, but no sound leaves her mouth. She looks down at her hand and scowls, then quickly scribbles me another message.

    ¡®I need to talk to them before they meet with the Preservation.¡¯

    ¡°Noland, she wants to talk to them before the Preservation does.¡±

    He raises an arm and gives us a thumbs-up. ¡°I can swing that. Oh, here¡¯s a magical fluctuation¨Cthey¡¯re coming.¡±

    As he speaks, my awareness rocks like a ship on the ocean. My head swirls and swims for a split second as Pearl squeaks in surprise, the uncomfortable magic working its way through us like the wracking shudders just before you throw up. I shake my head and shift my focus away from my awareness, but all it serves to do is put that sensation in the back of my mind like a throbbing headache.

    ¡°Shit, that magic¡¯s awful.¡± I groan and cover my eyes with my hand. ¡°Whoever¡¯s doing this must be some kind of an asshole.¡±

    Two heavy impacts land on my shoulders. I wince and tilt my head further back, only to find myself staring up at a pair of camo pants and combat boots resting on my shoulders.

    ¡°What¡¯d you call me, little missy?¡± The cockiest voice I¡¯ve ever heard sarcastically asks me. A head of spiky bleached blonde hair sticks up from sunburned skin, with wraparound sunglasses and a mouth pulled into a shit-eating grin underneath. ¡°Not very nice to judge people without talking to them first, now is it?¡±

    I grunt and throw the guy¡¯s legs off my shoulders. ¡°My point stands.¡±

    He laughs and stands up, then leans forward and ruffles my hair with mock affection. ¡°Don¡¯t screw with me, girlie. I¡¯ve killed people more dangerous than you for way less than that.¡±

    Noland turns and smiles at the man. The man stops, raises his sunglasses, and squints as if he can¡¯t believe what he¡¯s seeing.

    ¡°Noland, is that you?¡±

    ¡°In the flesh.¡± Noland confirms. ¡°Get your hands off my friend or I¡¯ll kill your whole family.¡±

    The man¡¯s hands fly up faster than a speeding bullet as he chuckles. ¡°Hey, not my fault you can¡¯t take a joke, No-man. Zeze felt something really weird up here, so I popped in to check it out. Last I checked, that ain¡¯t a crime, yeah?¡±

    ¡°Do you really think I need justification to kill you, Taka?¡±

    ¡°No more than I need to kill you, man.¡± Taka laughs, then reaches down and ruffles my hair again as he looks at Gisela. ¡°You want a conversation, girlie, just wait until we¡¯re done with Matty-poo and come down to the stage. We¡¯d love to hear you beg. Toodle-oo!¡±

    In a puff of magic, Taka disappears and reappears on the stage. Matt flinches and walks up to him as two more people appear next to him; both women, and both wearing different kinds of confidence. Taka is cocky, the woman on the left looks like she doesn¡¯t care at all, and the one on the right looks like she wants to punch someone as hard as she can.

    Which she does, when one of Matt¡¯s bodyguards gets a little too close. He splatters into blood mist, soaking another bodyguard and half of Matt.

    ¡°They haven¡¯t changed a bit.¡± Noland mutters, his eyes smoldering with cold rage. ¡°Shelby, protect Gisela with your life. If it comes to it, don¡¯t hesitate to kill any of them. They¡¯ll do the same to you.¡±

 Chapter 109: Intimidation Campaign

    Matt steps back and his mouth opens wide. No sound leaves it as his hands scrabble at his face, desperately trying to wipe away what¡¯s left of his bodyguard. His fear is so vibrant that I can feel it from all the way up here.

    ¡°What¡­ did he think was going to happen?¡± I wonder aloud as I get out of my seat and join Noland in leaning on the railing. ¡°They¡¯re basically ¡®war crimes¡¯ the organization. Is he just that stupid that he thought he¡¯d be able to control them?¡±

    Gisela walks up next to me and leans down. She opens her mouth and tries to speak, then frowns when she¡¯s still silenced. A few quick scribbles later, she pushes a piece of paper at me. One that Noland leans around my shoulder to see.

    ¡®Matt has a lot of powerful people behind him. Including some people from HuSt¨Cbut not the ones that are here today.¡¯

    ¡°So he was gambling on everyone in HuSt sharing the same opinion as his connections?¡± Noland laughs and shakes his head. ¡°Wow, he¡¯s even dumber than I thought. Anyone who does five minutes of research knows HuSt doesn¡¯t work like that. But¨Cand to be clear, I don¡¯t want to give him any credit at all¨Che isn¡¯t this stupid. He has an ulterior motive.¡±

    I snort and roll my eyes. ¡°No shit. He¡¯s the one that threw this party¨Cgetting all these influential people together for no real reason other than to announce something people already know about. If there wasn¡¯t something sinister going on in the background I¡¯d be surprised.¡±

    And the Preservation did bring along someone with memory erasing magic. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me in the slightest if this entire thing was orchestrated by the Preservation manipulating Matt into doing their bidding with promises of class coin-based wealth and power. Still¡­ that leaves one massive unanswered question.

    If they¡¯re powerful enough to have this much of an influence, what¡¯s the point of a private party with everyone who already knows how this turns out? Sure, Matt¡¯s angling for something more, but he could¡¯ve easily done that from behind closed doors. Hell, it¡¯s probably way easier to do behind closed doors.

    Actually¡­ what if everything¡¯s already said and done? What if Mmatt¡¯s already signed a deal, and this party is a big part of it? Why does HuSt have to sign off on the deal if they¡¯re blacklisted by basically everything, but the resort didn¡¯t even know about it until Gisela told us?

    My mind wanders to a thousand different possibilities. None of them are good in the slightest. But all the absolute worst ones center in on one single question: why is HuSt here? What influence do they have that I don¡¯t know about? Something tells me that if I find the answer to that question, I¡¯ll have the answer to everything.

    Noland gently elbows me in the arm. ¡°Matt¡¯s done already. Less than two minutes, and it doesn¡¯t look like either side is leaving on bad terms. If that isn¡¯t a bad omen, I don¡¯t know what is.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Ursula said she worked for them before she got her Class Coin. As¡­ a private military contractor, I think? Does HuSt still do that?¡±

    ¡°They do. It¡¯s all the real power they have left. But they don¡¯t officially broadcast it; they¡¯re basically supplying countries without military power of their own with a military.¡± Noland continues with a growing grimace. ¡°Oh, this could be bad, Shelby. This could be really, really bad. Do you know what this could be?¡±

    ¡°Bad?¡±

    He narrows his eyes at me in a withering glare. ¡°It could be a merger. Not just between Matt¡¯s companies and the Preservation, but between HuSt and some countries as well.¡±

    I blink in surprise. ¡°What countries? Who would even do that?¡±

    Gisela tugs on my dress to get my attention, then taps her notebook. ¡®South America and Southeast Asia were horribly destroyed by the apocalypse. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if they were trying to unite these countries under the Preservation¡¯s banner.¡¯

    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought, too.¡± Noland mutters. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t answer the question of why the hell Matt¡¯s throwing a party. There¡¯s got to be something we¡¯re missing. And¨Cshit, we¡¯re out of time. If we want to talk to HuSt without anyone interrupting, now¡¯s our last and only chance. Shelby.¡±

    ¡°On it.¡±

    Three relocation coins fill my palm. A snap of my wrist sends them spinning down to the next floor as HuSt start to leave the stage. The woman who looks permanently pissed twitches and glares at my coins as they clatter to the ground, and she grabs the other two by their shoulders to keep them from leaving.

    ¡°The hell are you doing¨Coh, you three again.¡± Taka sighs as I relocate all of us to the coins. ¡°Whaddaya want? We¡¯ve got important business to attend to, and none of it involves your sorry asses.¡±

    Gisela raises a hand to her chest and tries to speak. Taka snorts in amusement, but the angry woman takes a step forward with a fist tingling with magic. With eyes widening in fear, Gisela stumbles backwards and almost trips over her own feet.

    ¡°Yeah, bitch, you won¡¯t.¡± Angry hisses through clenched teeth. ¡°If you¡¯ve got something to say, be strong enough to say it with your own goddamn mouth. Or else you¡¯re as useless as the dipshit we¡¯re not allowed to kill today.¡±

    ¡°So if we can talk, you¡¯ll listen to us?¡± I ask.

    Angry¡¯s eyes narrow as she locks onto mine. It feels like she¡¯s staring deep into my soul, and whatever she sees, it only makes the fire in her eyes burn brighter.

    ¡°Who the actual f¨C¡±

    Noland clears his throat. ¡°She¡¯s one of us.¡±

    ¡°One of us?¡± Angry demands, and finally seems to register that Noland¡¯s there. ¡°Oh, shit, it¡¯s you! The mass-murderer! Are you still working with that ex-soldier that holds a serious grudge? Did she finally die? When do I get to kill her?¡±

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    ¡°Nope, she¡¯s perfectly fine; in fact, she nuked a storm just a few weeks ago.¡± Noland says proudly. ¡°And, for your information, she¡¯s the one that¡¯s going to kill you. We just haven''t set a date for it yet.¡±

    ¡°Nice! Make sure to tell me when it is so I can mark it off on my calendar. I wouldn¡¯t want to double book something like that!¡±

    Angry¡¯s laugh fills the stadium. I¡¯ve heard crazy people talk before, but this is much scarier. Because she sounds like she¡¯s in perfect control of herself. She wants to fight Ursula to the death in her right mind. And she just killed someone three minutes ago. Note to self; don¡¯t get involved with her any more than I have to. Or anyone else in HuSt.

    ¡°We¡¯ll all come watch you die, Ava. Hell, we¡¯ll make it a day off so everyone can come watch!¡± Taka grins and wrings his hands together. ¡°The resort¡¯s best against our most medium member. I¡¯ll make a killing taking bets.¡±

    Ava snarls and smacks Taka on the back of the head. He laughs and tries to shake it off, but I can see just how unfocused his eyes are. Ava must have one hell of a body-focused class to do that much with barely any magic.

    ¡°Enough. They¡¯re here for a reason.¡± The bored woman, who by process of elimination must be Zeze, says in a tired monotone. ¡°The sooner they say it, the sooner we can leave. So shut up and let them talk.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine.¡± Taka grumbles. ¡°Your time¡¯s so goddamn precious, why the hell did you volunteer to come anyway?¡±

    Zeze ignores him and locks eyes with Gisela. ¡°I¡¯m going to let you talk because you write so slow it''s annoying. Don¡¯t be boring.¡±

    Whispers of magic brush against my ears. I instinctively raise a hand to brush them away, and feel soft strands of cottony material flow through my fingers. Zeze blinks slowly and stares straight into my eyes with obvious suspicion.

    ¡°Are you hypersensitive?¡±

    Hyper¡­sensitive? I narrow my eyes and lower my hand, unsure if she¡¯s talking about magic or something else. ¡°Was that magic, or was it some kind of actual, physical thing?¡±

    Zeze frowns. ¡°You¡¯re hypersensitive. That¡¯s annoying.¡±

    ¡°Can you¡­ elaborate a little?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Well, screw me then, I guess. I put up my awareness and ready myself to protect Gisela from whatever HuSt decide to do to her when she eventually pisses them off. She opens her mouth and quietly mumbles a few vowel sounds to make sure she can talk, nods to herself, and subtly clenches her fists.

    ¡°What do you get out of this?¡±

    Taka¡¯s eyebrows jump for the ceiling. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the hell are you talking about?¡± Ava reiterates with a snarl. ¡°You¡¯re here now, dumbass. If you haven''t been able to figure that out, I can¡¯t solve that kind of mental damage. But I can make it a hell of a lot worse if you want.¡±

    Gisela winces ever so slightly. ¡°No, thank you. I¡­ well¡­ let me reiterate. If the deal goes through, the Preservation gets near total control over coin distribution and the laws surrounding it. Doesn¡¯t that go against the absolute personal freedom that your organization finds so precious? What if the Preservation decides that it doesn¡¯t want you around any more?¡±

    Ava snorts in amusement. ¡°Well, dumbass, that¡¯s why there¡¯s a party in the first place. We¡¯re here to test the waters with a chunk of influential people from all around the world, seeing how they¡¯ll take to being crushed underfoot by a tyrant they choose themselves.¡±

    There¡¯s something weird in Ava¡¯s tone. It¡¯s almost¡­ subdued. Not like the raging fury and excitement when she brought up Ursula, or the violence she showed towards Matt¡¯s group. Now that she¡¯s talking about the Preservation and this supposed agreement¡­ it¡¯s like she¡¯s holding back.

    The nagging start of a very bad idea worms its way into my mind.

    Noland clears his throat. ¡°So this entire party¡¯s just to see who is for you, and who¡¯s against you. What happens to the people who¡¯re against you? Because I¡¯ve got a funny feeling it has something to do with why we¡¯re on an isolated mini-island flying in the sky.¡±

    Zeze sighs in annoyance. ¡°Don¡¯t beat around the bush. Just say we¡¯re here to blackmail or kill the idiots who¡¯re against us.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± Noland shrugs and subtly puts himself between me, Gisela, and the HuSt members. ¡°The only reason for this party is to make sure nobody can stop you. All your real allies aren¡¯t even here; only your staunch enemies and the people who¡¯re undecided. Is this even the first party like this?¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Taka opens his mouth wide and licks his lips, revealing that his molars have been replaced with diamonds. ¡°Matt did such a good job hiding the bloodstains, but now the little bitch wants out! Thinks he did his part, and now that we¡¯re inviting guests that remind him of his own people, he begs us to look for a new venue!¡±

    He turns to Gisela and smiles. ¡°So, miss Garza, what¡¯ll it be? Stand with the wave of the future, or get crushed and battered in the undertow?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re got the threats of a much scarier man.¡± I say without really thinking. ¡°You do realize that you¡¯re talking to people who actively don¡¯t want you succeeding with this, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but Noland doesn¡¯t care.¡± Ava smashes her fist against his chest. His suit doesn¡¯t even rustle. ¡°Dumbass has the entire world eating from the palm of his hand, and they don¡¯t even know it. One word from this asshole and any country in the world could die overnight just from taking something away.¡±

    Just from taking it away? I stare at Noland¡¯s back and try to imagine what the hell he could have a literal worldwide monopoly on. Now that I¡¯m actually thinking about it¡­ that¡¯s got to be the reason he can bankroll the resort so easily. Is it the same reason as the Preservation? Did March make, like, all the buildings in the world to help with the repair efforts?

    ¡°Aw, I can see your friend here wracking her brain trying to make sense of it.¡± Ava grins and pushes Noland to the side. ¡°Here¡¯s a little hint for you; think of something so unbelievably necessary for everyday life now that you¡¯d probably die without it. Now imagine how the hell anyone could¡¯ve developed that shit. Then you¡¯ve got your answer!¡±

    She goes to pat my shoulder, but I step away just out of her reach. A quick laugh spits in my face, and the three of them walk away like they own the entire world.

    ¡°Hey! I still have¡­ questions¡­¡± Gisela trails off, then grimaces as they speed up. ¡°Bastards. They think they¡¯ve already won, but they still need so many people¡¯s permission to get their little law pushed through. Well, I¡¯m going to do everything I can to stop them.¡±

    ¡°Good on you.¡± Noland sighs. ¡°It¡¯s going to be hard to keep you alive, but you paid us, so¨C¡±

    I blink slowly as Ava¡¯s words start to make connections in my mind that I hadn¡¯t even thought about before. Gisela and Noland¡¯s conversation bleeds away into background noise as I find myself remembering every little aspect of my daily life from before I got my class coin; eating, sleeping, working, traveling¨Chell, even just watching TV. Shit that should¡¯ve been impossible, or at least unbelievably unsafe thanks to the apocalypse turning electronics into monsters.

    Yet, somehow, we could. Still can, in fact. Because of the technology that staved off the apocalypse. Because of the air filters that somehow made it safe-ish to have indoor appliances. I never made the connection, because there was never a connection to be made.

    Noland owns something huge. And he¡¯s going to tell me about it before I put myself in any more danger.

 Chapter 110: A Murderer Saves The World

    Before we follow HuSt out of the arena, I grab Noland by the shoulder and shake my head. He glances towards the exit and frowns, but nods in understanding. A few motions with his hands and gold coats both him and me, leaving everything else out. Numbers appear in the corner of my vision, starting at 1:1, and quickly ticking down before settling at 1:20.

    Noland dusts his hands off. ¡°Our brains are now experiencing one second of real time as twenty seconds. We have about five minutes before HuSt annoys the Preservation into a real conversation, so let¡¯s do this quick. Speak really slowly and tell Gisela what¡¯s going on, then start walking.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and look around. Sure enough, Gisela looks like she¡¯s moving in slow motion. Her lips open and a very elongated letter sound comes out as she raises a hand in confusion, eyes widening as she watches me and Noland move much faster than normal.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t this kind of extremely overpowered?¡± I ask as I wave my hand in front of Gisela¡¯s eyes. ¡°How¡¯s anyone supposed to fight you when you¡¯re moving twenty times faster than they are?¡±

    ¡°In close range, it¡¯s pretty much useless. The magic is so fragile that tripping over a pebble could break it.¡± He straightens his suit with both hands and sighs. ¡°Plus, there¡¯s the insane cost of keeping it up. Not just in Worth, but in exhaustion.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re overclocking our brains and bodies. Got it.¡± I turn to Gisela, think for a second, then clear my throat before speaking as slowly as I can. ¡°We¡¯re¡­talking¡­about...important¡­stuff. Be¡­back¡­to¡­normal¡­in¡­a¡­few¡­minutes.¡±

    Dawning recognition slowly fills her eyes, and she nods just as slowly. Instead of trying to speak, she follows our walking pace and starts to pull out her notebook once more. There¡¯s definitely going to be more than a few questions when Noland turns off this magic, but right now, it¡¯s my turn to ask them.

    ¡°Noland, what do you actually own?¡±

    He chuckles happily. ¡°That¡¯s the first thing you ask? Not why I killed my dad, or why the people here should be terrified of me?¡±

    ¡°Alright, then let¡¯s start with why you killed your dad.¡±

    ¡°...Okay, kind of walked into that one.¡± He shakes his head and laughs, but this one is bitter and filled with memories. ¡°Before I tell you that, you need to know a little backstory from before the apocalypse. My family¡¯s rich. Unbelievably rich. I¡¯m not going to give any examples, because I¡¯ll start throwing up if I have to remember the history that was chiseled into my brain so long ago.¡±

    With a small sigh, he looks down at his feet. ¡°We were in ventilation and purification at the industrial level. Refineries, power plants, office buildings; you name it, my family owned, installed, and outsourced it. But it wasn¡¯t our company exactly. It was one of the hundreds of local companies we bought out and took over. My dad did almost everything, and my many older siblings helped out just as much.¡±

    Alright. Rich parents, crappy upbringing. I¡¯ve heard that story a hundred times before, but mostly in fiction. I don¡¯t really have any questions so far, and I¡¯m starting to get the picture of how that company could be indispensable to a post-apocalypse world.

    ¡°No questions so far? Alright, I¡¯m going to assume that means you¡¯re following. Well, from when I was born to when the apocalypse happened, nothing really changed. Dad got more contracts, he bought more companies, and he got richer and richer. Skipping ahead until the apocalypse, things changed when my older brother found a coin.¡±

    Noland pointed a finger in the air and mimed firing a gun. ¡°Everything started then. The company barely survived the apocalypse, and when my brother came back, he came back with some weird technology. We researched it for nearly a year, and when we were done, we had a product that could purify the magic in the air that twisted machines into apocalyptic monsters.¡±

    I nod in understanding. ¡°The air filters.¡±

    Much to my surprise, he doesn¡¯t nod. ¡°No. The filters came from the first product; a simple paint-on film that prevented anything from being taken by the apocalypse. It was cheap to make, easy to mass-manufacture, and completely non-volatile. The only problem was that the materials to make it weren¡¯t from Earth. And, suddenly, dad needed a planet¡¯s supply worth of everything.¡±

    Noland runs a hand down his face as he pauses. He seems to age a decade right before my eyes, and the self-important lovable jerk I know takes a backseat to a person I don¡¯t recognize at all. A scared, tired, and overworked man from another life.

    ¡°Dad rounded up fifty coins. One of them was the one I have now. But it didn¡¯t go to me first; it went to my older sister Natalie.¡± His hand trembles as he lowers it. I can¡¯t bring myself to look away. ¡°She died in six hours and five minutes. Dad was confused. So he gave the coin to a random employee. That guy, whose name I never found out, died in eighty minutes. And when dad picked up the coin again, I saw a dark understanding flash in his eyes.¡±

    He turns to me, his mouth pinched in a thin line, and laughs like a dead man. ¡°It wasn¡¯t my idea to use a Worth coin to kill people, Shelby. It was his. He pretended it was an honour, and got rid of every single person that didn¡¯t agree with him. In the span of six months, the company became a dictatorship. Our product that was supposed to save the entire world turned into a product that saved people who kneeled to my dad.¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    I¡­ don¡¯t remember that happening. All I remember is that one day, people started making cars again. And, for some reason, those cars didn¡¯t instantly transform. Things that could be retrofitted were retrofitted, all the dangerous stuff was disposed of, and the world started to work again.

    ¡°Your family¡¯s the only reason Earth still works.¡± I say in disbelief. ¡°Why¡­ how¡­ why didn¡¯t I ever hear about this before? What¡¯s your dad¡¯s company called?¡±

    Noland grits his teeth and neary spits his words. ¡°Everyday Eden.¡±

    ¡­No. I still haven¡¯t heard that name. From the look on my face, Noland figures that out and forces out a laugh.

    ¡°Of course you haven¡¯t heard of it. By the time your home got the purifiers made with our product, dad was already dead.¡± He says coldly, yet like a weight was just lifted from his chest. ¡°You probably think that because I have this coin that I disobeyed my dad and argued that he shouldn¡¯t be king of the world. Nope. One day, I messed up his coffee order. Then, that afternoon, I suggested that a thicker coating of product on the filters would lead to less accidents.¡±

    He opens his hand to reveal his Class Card sitting in his palm. ¡°That night, dad threw me in the basement and forced the coin into my hands. Then he shut off the air purification and sealed all the entrances and exits. He didn¡¯t say anything, but I knew he was giving me a choice; use the coin or suffocate to death. Since I¡¯m here right now, you can probably guess what choice I made.¡±

    I snort in amusement, which gets a small smile to creep up Noland¡¯s mouth. He takes a deep breath as the colour returns to his face, and when his eyes get another faraway look, this time they¡¯re filled with fondness.

    ¡°When I used the coin, I saw what the other world was like. I grew up more in my first visit than I had my entire life before that. And when I came back, appearing in that basement where dad had fully expected me to die, I realized something.¡±

    He turns to me, expectation shimmering in his eyes. I wait patiently for him to say anything, but after a few seconds, I get what he wants from me.

    ¡°What did you realize, Noland?¡±

    ¡°Why, thank you for asking, Shelby!¡± He spreads his arms wide, and his grin turns savage. ¡°I realized that, with magic, the balance of power finally shifts away from money and influence! Who gives a shit what some billionaire thinks or owns; I can teleport a nuclear bomb into his living room! So what if there¡¯s a tyrannical dipshit raging war on a weaker country? I can kill him specifically without ever having to see his army!¡±

    He clasps his hands together and tilts his head slightly to the side. ¡°So I killed the closest tyrant I could find. My dad. Everyone tried to stop me. So I killed them too. In two weeks, Everyday Eden died. Over time, my brothers and sisters came back from the other world. Some of them were relieved. I let them go. Others tried to kill me. I killed them.¡±

    Slack-jawed in disbelief at Noland¡¯s story, I almost find myself backing up into Gisela¡¯s slow moving form. There¡¯s a mania in Noland¡¯s eyes that speaks of a hatred that very much hasn¡¯t been quelled, and from staring into his soul, I finally understand how people could be so scared of him.

    ¡°How the hell did you do that?¡± I manage to squeak out. ¡°You should¡¯ve been a fresh Class.¡±

    Noland raises his eyebrows in question. ¡°Pretty much the same way you killed the dragonjet, Shelby. Intelligence, well-laid traps, and brute strength way beyond what I should¡¯ve technically had at that point. But hey, they all deserved to die. Delaying our product by just a few months caused millions of deaths. I only killed about three hundred people.¡±

    My mouth feels dry. But not because of Noland admitting to killing three hundred people with his own hands. ¡°M¡­millions?!¡±

    He nods solemnly. ¡°Six hundred thirty-three million, two-hundred eighteen thousand, nine hundred and fifteen people. That¡¯s the number of apocalypse-related deaths that happened between when we finalized our product and when I klled my father. Another fifty million died between then and when March, Gil, and Ursula helped me create a distribution network to actually help the world.¡±

    Those numbers¡­ I¡­ I can''t even understand that much death. Words bubble up in my throat, but my tongue won¡¯t make them. I want to admonish Noland for his violence, but¡­ I can¡¯t. Even if there were better options, he did what he did.

    He saved the goddamn world, along with the help of the resort. And barely anyone knows about it.

    ¡°How did the rest of the resort help?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy. March made all the manufacturing facilities over the world, Ursula designed the machines, and Gil actually got the world on board. All I did was bankroll everything.¡± Noland waggles his Class Card for emphasis. ¡°That¡¯s how I¡¯ve got effectively infinite money; I don¡¯t actually spend any money. March makes the materials with her skill, and I pay for it with Worth.¡±

    I follow his story, even with the few holes I have to fill in myself. It all makes sense. Except for the fact that some people here don¡¯t know him.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be a household name or something? I¡¯ve never heard of Everyday Eden.¡±

    ¡°Of course you haven¡¯t. I buried that company a long time ago.¡± Noland reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card. ¡°That¡¯s the company we¡¯re using now.¡±

    He hands me the card, and the second I look at it, I don¡¯t feel any more informed. ¡°Magical Electric? You mean¡­ the washing machine maker?¡±

    ¡°Washing machines, cars, air filters, fridges, trains, planes¡­¡± Noland counts off on his fingers, then trails off with a shrug. ¡°We basically make everything. Sure, other companies still exist, but they¡¯re using the tech I made open-source for it. Now before you call me too generous or anything, there¡¯s something you need to remember about March¡¯s skills.¡±

    Something I need to¡­ oh. Oh, shit. ¡°She can destroy anything she built.¡±

    ¡°Bingo.¡± Noland says happily. ¡°All the materials every company on Earth uses for their apocalypse protection was made by her¨C with my help. So if either one of us so desires¡­¡±

    Noland snaps his fingers. ¡°It¡¯s gone. Whatever we want, wherever we want, and to whoever we want. And¡­ for now, that¡¯s all the story you really need. We worked with HuSt and the Preservation before they started going under, so most of the senior people in both organizations know who I am. But it looks like they¡¯ve started thinking they shouldn¡¯t be scared.¡±

    He leans against the concrete tunnel and stares at the backs of the three members of HuSt. ¡°Maybe I should remind them why.¡±

 Chapter 111: Idyllic Potential, But Not Yet

    Part of me reels at Noland¡¯s story. He just admitted to killing a lot of people. And even though it''s missing some details, his story rings terrifyingly true to what I remember happening. The purifiers and electronic coatings were what started the world on the path back to being slightly livable again.

    Without him, it wouldn¡¯t be the world back on the path to normalcy. It would be one or two countries that bent the knee and a lot of rich people. I can¡¯t bring myself to fault Noland for it. Somehow, I was lucky enough for almost all my family to live through the apocalypse. We lived in a small-ish town, after all, and only had to destroy a few cars and appliances to survive.

    People in big cities weren¡¯t so lucky. Sure, it wasn¡¯t wanton slaughter, but there wasn¡¯t anywhere safe. Death wasn¡¯t a possibility¨Cit was an inevitability. The question is¡­ was Noland¡¯s family responsible for those deaths by doing nothing? Just because they had the means to save people, were they required to?

    Technically, no. They weren¡¯t. But who the hell argues semantics when millions of lives are on the line?

    ¡°Noland¡­ how much control over the company do you have?¡± I ask as the gold falls away, returning us to normal processing speed.

    He purses his lips in thought. ¡°Technically, I¡¯ve got fifty percent control at most. March and I have to agree to do the thing to end all things, and even if one of us could overpower the other, we respect each other too much for that. In reality, I¡¯ve got twenty percent control. Same as March, Gil, Ursula, and you.¡±

    I frown in confusion. ¡°The hell are you talking about? I¡¯ve never done¨C¡±

    ¡°It comes with the job description, no getting out of it now.¡± He grins and gently knocks his knuckles against my shoulder. ¡°We barely do anything with it now, just manufacture the stuff and distribute it. I think we¡¯ve got¡­ eight-ish million employees across the world in a lot of different fields, but pretty much none of them know they¡¯re working for us.¡±

    Eight¡­ eight million. Holy shit. I was expecting, like, a thousand employees. But eight million¡­ that¡¯s like the population of a small country. If Noland owns the thing, and he¡¯s putting everything he¡¯s got into the resort¡­ why the hell aren¡¯t we more important? Why are we running scared from the Preservation? Hell, why do we let HuSt exist with their past?

    ¡°I see you¡¯ve got a lot to think about.¡± Noland says as Gisela grabs onto my arm once again. ¡°Pretty much all your questions can be boiled down to the answer of one extra question; why did we start the resort?¡±

    That¡¯s easy. ¡°To normalize magic in everything, not just for fighting.¡±

    He nods. ¡°There¡¯s your answer. We aren¡¯t tyrants. We aren¡¯t gods. All we want is to somehow get the world to survive this living hell the system threw us into and come out the other side intact.¡±

    ¡°So why¡­¡± I trail off in thought. That answer isn¡¯t satisfying. He¡¯s still holding something back, because I don¡¯t believe for one second that Noland is this pragmatic. Sure, he¡¯s a good person deep down, but he still murdered hundreds of people to further his agenda. Would that kind of person be this¡­ idealistic?

    No. No way in hell.

    A razor-thin grin splits his lips, and the image of a charitable saint dies in the reflection of his teeth. He couldn¡¯t make it more obvious that he has an ulterior motive if he outright told me.

    He turns on his heel and leads us away without another word. Leaving me with a single question and a thousand possible answers swirling in my mind. It could be something as simple as revenge against HuSt and the Preservation. Maybe this is an extreme long-con, and he¡¯s going to pull the plug the moment everyone else thinks they¡¯ve won. Or¡­ maybe¡­

    Gisela¡¯s grip tightens around my arm. I look down to see her painted nails dig deeply into my skin, hard enough to draw blood, but my rebuilt body doesn¡¯t even bruise. Whatever idea I¡¯d had moments ago leaves in a whirl of brand new thoughts worrying about whatever just happened to make her do this.

    I gently grab her wrist and squeeze. ¡°Gisela?¡±

    She startles, and for a second, I¡¯m reminded that this is Dora on my arm. ¡°Yes?¡± She looks over at me, then down at her own hand. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry!¡±

    Her grip loosens instantly, and she unlatches herself from my arm completely. Something shifts in the way she looks at me, and for a split second, Gasp¡¯s memory manipulation scratches at the forefront of my mind. But I haven¡¯t felt any magic like that since. So unless she got infinitely more subtle since last time, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s it.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Having second thoughts?¡±

    ¡°Second¡­ no. I¡¯m not.¡± Gisela takes a deep breath to gather herself, sets her mouth in a line, and laces her arm through mine. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m in way over my head, aren¡¯t I?¡±

    Over her head? The hell is she talking about? ¡°You came here knowing pretty much exactly what was going to happen. How are you in over your head?¡±

    A small, nervous laugh sneaks its way out of her. ¡°You, Shelby. And Noland. And Ursula. I thought the resort would be a good neutral party to oversee this, but I¡¯ve seen how wrong that line of thinking is. That¡­ business card¡­ I only saw it for a second, but¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah. Noland?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°Don¡¯t talk openly about it. I don¡¯t really care who knows, but we don¡¯t want any more assassination attempts than we¡¯re already going to have to deal with.¡±

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    I nod in understanding, as does Gisela. She seems convinced now, but far less confident than before. If I had to guess, her world¡¯s probably just been turned upside down. Our positions didn¡¯t reverse¨Cshe¡¯s completely unimportant now. A billionaire in the face of someone who could actually destroy the world with a snap of his fingers.

    ¡°Does this change your plans?¡± I ask.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She sighs. ¡°Everything I worked towards seems¡­ less important now. The Preservation wants to highly regulate the coins. I wanted to prove that we¡¯re important enough to be one of their distributors while building ourselves up even more in the shadows. But you just told me the shadows are deeper and darker than I ever knew, and they¡¯re already full to bursting¡±

    ¡°Hey, we don¡¯t work in the shadows. All our goings-on are easily accessible for anyone and everyone.¡± Noland smiles and pats Gisela¡¯s free shoulder. ¡°Just because most people don¡¯t make the connection between our two very public organizations doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re some kind of shady cult. It means we¡¯re powerful enough that we don¡¯t care who knows.¡±

    Gisela shrugs off his hand and exhales. ¡°You don¡¯t know the privilege you need to operate like that. If we went as public as you are, we¡¯d be crushed by a hostile company in a few days. One of our secrets gets out, and suddenly we lose our market share. We can¡¯t afford to be transparent.¡±

    ¡°Well, what if you could?¡± Noland asks innocently.

    ¡°Then we wouldn¡¯t be ourselves. We¡¯d be bought out by something big enough to protect us, and that¡¯s not going to happen.¡± She says flatly, seemingly interpreting Nolan¡¯s offer before he made it. ¡°If we ally with anyone, it¡¯s going to be as equals. Not as a pity acquisition or a hostile takeover.¡±

    He shrugs and turns away. ¡°Suit yourself. But when you¡¯re confident in your influence and power, you know where to find us. Or where to find the Preservation, if you prefer the taste of boot leather and dirt.¡±

    Gisela wrinkles her nose in disgust. ¡°I¡¯ll die before I let the Preservation rule me.¡±

    ¡°That sounds very different from what you said a minute ago.¡± I point out antagonistically. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to be a good little distributor for them? Hand out the coins to all their chosen ones, control the flow of magic with an iron fist?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ we¡­¡± She growls in frustration and balls her fists. ¡°That¡¯s the best we can hope for. If they trust us, we can make a¨C¡±

    ¡°Nope, you can¡¯t.¡± Noland cuts in mercilessly. ¡°The second the Preservation gets a foothold, it¡¯ll slowly turn into a stranglehold. If you don¡¯t want magic to be given to the highest bidder and ridden with nepotism, you¡¯ve got to be more than just a distributor.¡±

    Gisela frowns, but I can see her mind working. ¡°What are you suggesting?¡±

    Noland shrugs. ¡°Nothing in particular. Just that you make your own choice and stand behind it no matter how wrong or hard it ends up being. To that end, tell me your starting point and your end goal.¡±

    ¡°What? No.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get a choice. Spill it.¡±

    She looks like she¡¯s about to argue, but she seems to decide against it. ¡°It started with oppression. We want it to end with freedom.¡±

    I can¡¯t help but snort. ¡°You think putting yourself under the Preservation¡¯s thumb is going to do that?¡±

    ¡°No, but freedom needs rules. Regulations. Nobody else is trying to make them!¡± Gisela nearly screams that last word, her body trembling with rage. ¡°Magic is dangerous! Just because you can use it for good, it doesn¡¯t mean you can¡¯t use it for evil. We¡­ I¡­ know that better than anyone.¡±

    ¡°A chef¡¯s knife will dull without ever tasting human flesh. A murderer¡¯s knife knows nothing but.¡± Noland looks over his shoulder, his eyes glistening with gold. ¡°Most people are good, Gisela. Regulations keep the small percentage of monsters from killing everyone else. But the most insidious killer of all is the situation.¡±

    ¡°The¡­ situation?¡± She asks, her voice undercut by confusion.

    I clear my throat to cut in. ¡°In his example, the situation would be what turns a chef¡¯s knife into a murderer¡¯s knife. Poverty, drugs, hatred; you know the deal.¡±

    He nods and points at my forehead. ¡°Exactly. Some magic is like a knife, some is like a gun, and some is like a nuclear bomb. But if you found a knife, and a really sharp and beautiful one at that, would your first instinct be to make a good meal or bury it deep in someone¡¯s back? Truth is, if everyone¡¯s happy and taken care of, you don¡¯t have to worry about knives. Then you just have to start worrying about people.¡±

    Gisela shudders. ¡°You can¡¯t make people happy. Some people only want more.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm. Yeah, that¡¯s true.¡± Noland nods in agreement. ¡°I¡¯d be fully for having to take a background check before you¡¯re allowed to take a Class Coin, or for there to be harsh laws against using magic to commit a crime. That¡¯s perfectly reasonable. But there¡¯s one major issue I don¡¯t think you¡¯re factoring in.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Noland shifts and raises an eyebrow at me. I guess that¡¯s my que to join the conversation again. And luckily, I know exactly what he wants me to say.

    ¡°Coins are random.¡±

    He nods. ¡°They fall in completely random places, contain a set random class, and don¡¯t care who picks them up. How the hell is one corporation¨Ceven with the help of a thousand governments¨Cgoing to regulate that?¡±

    Gisela opens her mouth, then closes it. She doesn¡¯t have an answer for him. I don¡¯t blame her; he¡¯s obviously leading on for a specific answer, but unless she¡¯d seen the side of the Preservation that I have, Gisela wouldn¡¯t have it.

    It¡¯d be a registry. Everyone that would be allowed to have magic by the Preservation. And if you weren¡¯t on it, like I assume a whole lot of people would be, they¡¯d be criminals. Even if they never once thought about hurting anyone. Even if they never took a single attack-oriented spell.

    And, like Noland already proved, it would give them a very easy way to get rid of the people they don¡¯t like.

    ¡°Noland¡­ what if it wasn¡¯t the Preservation?¡±

    He and Gisela both turn to look at me, though their expressions couldn¡¯t be more different. Hers is confused and conflicted, while his is the cocky grin of someone who just sent me down the thought path he wanted to. And found that I came to the conclusion he wanted.

    ¡°Dick.¡± I sigh, but a glance over at the giant mech brings me right back to it. ¡°So what¡¯s the goal here, Noland? Some kind of idyllic magic council that selflessly works for the benefit of all humanity without a single thanks?¡±

    ¡°Eventually.¡± He laughs, then points at the HuSt members who¡¯re just starting to talk with the Preservation. ¡°For right now, I¡¯ll settle for stopping tyrannical monsters who pretend to be working for my goal. We¡¯ll find the magical unicorns and selfless powerful class-bearers later.¡±

 Chapter 112: Anger Out Of Place

    As we fall in slightly behind the mech, my eyes meet Taka¡¯s. He taunts me with a smile and a sarcastic wave, then completely ignores me and gets into a heated conversation with Ernest. The guy¡¯s a certified dickhead, no two buts about it, but he seems like a normal kind of dickhead. Not in line with what I know HuSt can do.

    ¡°You¡¯ve talked to everyone you said you wanted to, so where should we watch all this go down from?¡± Noland asks Gisela. ¡°Or do you still think you have a chance at your initial goals?¡±

    Gisela frowns at Gasp¡¯s back, then shakes her head. ¡°Even if we accomplish our goals, now we know the consequences of them. Which means I have to shift my priorities somewhat.¡±

    She yanks my arm a little to get my attention and points off at a group of people. I follow her finger to the faraway forms of the friends we met an hour ago, along with a pretty big cluster of people I don¡¯t recognize. Well, I sort of remember seeing them out of the corners of my eyes, but I didn¡¯t try to commit their features to memory.

    ¡°Who¡¯re they?¡±

    ¡°Politicians and corporate sponsors. My friends must have decided it isn¡¯t worth gambling on the Preservation¡¯s scraps.¡± Gisela explains with tense words. ¡°That, or the group is everyone who wants to side with the Preservation and HuSt.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s that, then you might need new friends.¡± I chuckle and start walking. ¡°Noland, what¡¯s our plan here? Are we going to do something?¡±

    He nods curtly. ¡°Of course we are. We can¡¯t let the Preservation get too comfortable, and I just kind of despise HuSt with my entire being for what they did to Ursula. And the rest of the world, too, I guess.¡±

    I find myself in complete agreement. ¡°So what can we actually do?¡±

    ¡°Now that,¡± He barks a short laugh, ¡°that is the part that I¡¯m struggling with. Let Gisela talk to the big group and we¡¯ll brainstorm some ideas.¡±

    We approach the group, and the aura doesn¡¯t change as we get close. I overhear more than a few arguments about coin distribution and magical regulation, but nobody¡¯s devolved to screaming yet. Gisela glances back at me as she lets go of my arm, and I discreetly push a shield-filled coin into her palm. She barely looks down at it before she nods and dissolves into the group, joining the conversation like she¡¯d been there all along.

    ¡°She sure is a social shapeshifter.¡± Noland notes as we get a good thirty feet away from the group. ¡°How about here? Can you still feel Gisela in your awareness?¡±

    ¡®Here¡¯ is a little bit of shade underneath a tree with a loudspeaker and a cable stapled to it. I glance up at it suspiciously, unsure if it¡¯s a listening device as well as a speaker, but Noland doesn¡¯t seem to be worried at all.

    ¡°They can hear us anywhere we go. Except when I do this.¡± Noland taps my wrist, and once again, gold creeps up on me and time slows down. ¡°Did you overhear when they¡¯re going to be doing their ¡®announcement¡¯?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°My awareness isn¡¯t as good for sounds.¡±

    He raises an eyebrow. ¡°Really? You¡¯ll have to work on that. Well, they said they¡¯re getting things ready for fifteen minutes from now. I¡¯m not stupid enough to think they have all the real documents and treaties here¨Cthey probably already signed them days ago¨Cbut we have to make it look like we stopped them from being signed. Sow a little bit of chaos before we do the real dirty work.¡±

    Sounds good to me. ¡°How¡¯re we doing this?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re about to discuss. I¡¯ll start; we expose Gasp¡¯s mind manipulation and force Ernest¡¯s hand. As long as he has to have her keep wiping people¡¯s minds, we¡¯ll buy enough time for people to start wondering what the hell is going on.¡±

    I lean against the tree and click my tongue. ¡°Not a bad idea, but what happens if the crowd doesn¡¯t give a shit? Some people don¡¯t care if they¡¯re being lied to as long as the lie profits them.¡±

    ¡°Mind manipulation goes one step higher than lies, don¡¯t you think?¡± Noland looks over his shoulder at the mech and grimaces. ¡°Shit, you¡¯ve got a point, though. Half the crowd or more probably knows what Gasp can do¨Cthey wouldn¡¯t be ogling her if they had a real problem with it. Got a better idea?¡±

    ¡°Kill someone.¡± I say flatly. ¡°Preferably Ernest or one of HuSt. That¡¯d cause a mass panic.¡±

    He snorts and shakes his head. ¡°And turning whoever died into a martyr. Only way that¡¯s going to work is if it looks like it''s in self defence¨Cand if Gasp is the one who dies. Anything else and they can twist the narrative into whatever they want. But I would like to rip Ava¡¯s head from her shoulders for Ursula¡­¡±

    The glint in his eye says he¡¯s not joking. His fingers drumming against his arm while he stares at Ava says he wishes we could solve it that easily. She doesn¡¯t even notice his gaze; she¡¯s way too focused on keeping her fists balled in her pockets as she chats with someone from the Preservation. The predator¡­ what¡¯s his name¡­

    I lick my lips as a horrible idea comes to me. ¡°What if we¡¯re not the ones doing the killing?¡±

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    Noland raises his eyebrows and motions for me to continue.

    ¡°Ava¡¯s unstable. If we can get her to snap at someone important, that¡¯ll break down the negotiations like nothing else.¡± I cross my arms and nod in her direction. ¡°Do you know what sets her off?¡±

    ¡°Someone sneezing. A slight breeze. Existing.¡± Noland scoffs. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m surprised she hasn¡¯t punched someone else into a red mist. Someone must have told her to be on her best behavior. But¡­ now that I think about it¡­ why is she even here? HuSt has to have less volatile members at the ready.¡±

    Huh. I hadn¡¯t even thought of that. Taka was an ass, sure, but he didn¡¯t seem unstable, and Zeze didn¡¯t seem like the type to kill for no reason. So why the hell is Ava with them? Is there something important going on behind the scenes that we¡¯re not seeing?

    ¡°I can think of a few options.¡± I say slowly, then meet eyes with Noland. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it short. One; they need her violence for some reason. Two; she has a personal connection we don¡¯t know about. Three; they¡¯re going to use her as a scapegoat to cement their bond. For two of those she knows what¡¯s going on, and for three she¡¯s in the dark.¡±

    Noland nods absentmindedly. I can almost see the gears turning in his mind, and like a toy being wound, the sides of his mouth tense up into a sadistic grin.

    ¡°Hey, Shelby, you think we can convince her that number three¡¯s true?¡±

    An involuntary laugh bubbles out of my throat. ¡°You think she¡¯ll need convincing?¡±

    He laughs right back and pats me on the shoulder. ¡°Every day, I get a little happier that you managed to tame that coin. Wait until they¡¯re up on the stage. I¡¯ll go talk to the other two and make sure Ava isn¡¯t involved. That¡¯ll prime her for detonation. Think you can come up with a good enough spark for when she¡¯s right next to Gasp up on stage?¡±

    ¡°Oh, hell yes.¡± I lower my arms and push off the tree. ¡°This is going to be bad.¡±

    Noland clicks his tongue and shoots me finger guns, then spins on his heel and beelines for the group. The gold washes away and slowed sounds return to normal as I lock eyes with Gisela, who must¡¯ve been looking at me for god knows how long. I offer her a small wave and a nod, which she returns and goes right back to chatting with the group.

    With slow steps and small strides, I make my way over to them while taking some time to think. The more I think about it, the more I think option three isn¡¯t actually true. Ava¡¯s too much of a risk¨Cshe could kill someone important before they subdued her. Which means either option one, two, or something I didn¡¯t think of is the truth.

    ¡°I think she¡¯s a victim.¡± Pearl says bluntly. ¡°But she¡¯s hyperfocusing on Gasp, not Phineas. Why would she¡­ oh, Shelby!¡±

    It comes to me the second Pearl realizes, too. But since I can¡¯t talk, I just swallow hard and slightly nod my head.

    Pearl crosses her arms and looks over her shoulder into the darkness. ¡°What do you think, Fleur? Did Gasp manipulate someone really close to Ava, or is it something different?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± A soft, glassy voice rings through my ears. ¡°I can¡¯t see out of here, remember?¡±

    My heart skips a beat with relief, and I have to force myself to keep from calling out Fleur¡¯s name. Her voice sounds so much¡­ smaller than before. Yet, somehow, it¡¯s infinitely more¡­ intense. Concentrated. But she¡¯s alive. She¡¯s talking.

    A smile tugs at my lips, and I can feel my eyes starting to water. I carefully flick away the tears before they can ruin my makeup, then steel myself as I once more become Gisela¡¯s bodyguard. She takes a slight step back and laces her arm through mine once more the moment I¡¯m close enough.

    Fleur quietly huffs. ¡°Lucky woman.¡±

    ¡°Fleur!¡± Pearl hisses quietly. ¡°Shelby can hear you now!¡±

    ¡°She¡­ she can?¡± Fleur asks just as quietly, and more than a little embarrassed. ¡°Could you please disregard my last comment? It is quite¡­ embarrassing for me.¡±

    My smile only grows as Fleur piles on excuses and reasons, and I can imagine her core glowing brighter and brighter with each one. Just hearing her voice was relief enough for me, but knowing that she doesn¡¯t hate me for what I made her into fills my soul with happiness. I¡¯m going to apologize to hell and back when we get back to the resort.

    Pearl puts both her hands on an invisible person¡¯s shoulders and sighs hard. ¡°You¡¯re just making it worse for yourself, Fleur. Wait a few hours and Shelby can talk back to you. Just a few more, okay?¡±

    ¡°Only a few more hours. I can endure for that long.¡± Fleur murmurs equally to Pearl and herself. ¡°I have so much I want to tell her. So much I want to show her. I¡­ she can still hear us right now.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Pearl giggles. ¡°And she¡¯ll be able to hear everything you say until you learn to control it better.¡±

    Ooh, did Fleur get something good out of the transition? I hope to hell that¡¯s true; I cost her so much, she deserves to get something nice for the life-threatening trouble. Just as I¡¯m starting to focus on their mundane conversation, Gisela tugs on my arm.

    I look over at her and see an expectant expression. Whoops. ¡°Sorry, I wasn''t paying attention. Can you say it again?¡±

    ¡°They want to know where you got your tattoos done.¡± Gisela motions at my shark bites, then at a pair of burly guys with long beards and tattoos down both their arms. ¡°The quality is apparently very good, and nothing like anything they¡¯ve ever seen before.¡±

    Oh. I shake my head and exhale with amusement. ¡°Sorry, guys, but these aren¡¯t tattoos. I actually got bit by a shark, and these are just some weird-ass scars from when the healed on the other world.¡±

    The guy on the right frowns in disappointment, but the one on the left looks¡­ inspired. Ah, shit, I hope I didn¡¯t just put some very weird goals in his head. I blink the thought from my mind and lean in close to Gisela, which gets a¡­ weirdly jealous noise out of Fleur. It¡¯s freaking adorable.

    ¡°I need you to tell Ava something for me.¡±

 Chapter 113: Negotiation Breakdown

    Gisela blanches, and I don¡¯t blame her. She shoots a glance over at Ava, speaking with the Preservation and their entourage, and her face brightens with something else. A sneer lifts one side of her lips and she slowly nods.

    ¡°As long as it''s part of your plan, and you can promise me I won¡¯t die.¡±

    With a slight nod, I press two coins into Gisela¡¯s hands. ¡°One of those is a shield, and the other is a backup shield. With the other one I gave you, they should be more than enough. But as long as Ava isn¡¯t clinically unstable, you won¡¯t be in any direct danger.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Gisela takes a step back, then smiles at the group. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a minute; there¡¯s something I have to tell HuSt. If I don¡¯t come back, remember me as a hero.¡±

    The joke lands about as well as a skydiver¡¯s corpse in the middle of a birthday party. Hushed whispers and stunned disbelief spread slowly through the group, and as we walk away, it still doesn¡¯t seem to go away. A little bit of guilt for putting Gisela in a dangerous situation worms its way into my mind, but she¡¯s the one that readily agreed to it. She knows she won¡¯t get what she wants while HuSt and the Preservation work together.

    And she¡¯s willing to risk everything for her goals.

    ¡°So what do you need me to say?¡± She whispers. ¡°And in what intonation?¡±

    ¡°Tell her Gasp has been constantly altering HuSt¡¯s minds, and do it in a sickly sweet sympathetic voice.¡± I mimic the tone I want as I speak, and she quietly repeats it under her breath. ¡°Depending on how she reacts, either press the issue or let it drop dismissively. Then tell her that Noland is trying to figure out why it looks like Taka and Zeze are taking it better than she is as you walk away.¡±

    Gisela sets her mouth in a grim line, quietly murmuring to herself in a sympathetic tone. Her hand grips my arm hard the closer we get, and when we¡¯re just out of earshot for the conversation, I gently pat her hand. She lets go and straightens her back, hides the coins in her palm, and walks confidently towards Ava without a hint of fear or reluctance.

    ¡°She¡¯s really good at hiding her fear.¡± Pearl notes with a mixture of respect and¡­ pity? ¡°There¡¯s a desperation in all her actions that don¡¯t really make sense with her actions. Especially since she¡¯s the timid one.¡±

    ¡°I agree. All the files and documents on the rig spoke of their corporation as overbearing and highly motivated to expand at any costs.¡± Fleur agrees. ¡°If all she wants is magical power, she can obtain that with money. Yet she seems to want to control the distribution of said magical power.¡±

    I want to chime in with my own two cents, but I know better. Gisela and Dora had all the coins they could ever want, yet after they put everything in the safe, I¡¯m pretty sure they didn¡¯t get any more. At least that¡¯s the impression I got; they could¡¯ve been giving people classes even though they wanted the coins from the safe.

    ¡°Maybe it has something to do with what happened to all their coins.¡± Pearl suggests as Gisela makes contact with Ava. ¡°The Preservation¡¯s right there, and Gisela thinks there¡¯s at least a chance they¡¯re responsible for everything. Do you think she¡¯s putting a personal grudge before their company¡¯s goals?¡±

    ¡°I felt that their company¡¯s goals were completely based on personal grudges. So, if I had to extrapolate from that data¨CI would say no. Most likely, the personal grudge and forwarding of their company¡¯s influence both rely on destroying the Preservtaion¡¯s hold on this meeting.¡±

    Now that¨Cthat makes sense to me. Gisela only considered allying with them when she thought they would give her what she wanted. Now that it looks like they¡¯re going to cut off everyone they don¡¯t choose to give a trickle of power, Gisela¡¯s doing what''s best for her; opening up the coin distribution to everyone.

    Even if it means someone else could swoop in, it gives her company a chance. Maybe¡­ I can take greater advantage of that. If Noland actually wants the resort to have more influence, that is; which I¡¯m not honestly sure is his goal. I¡¯ll have to ask him before shit goes down.

    Gisela reaches Ava without any trouble. The angry woman barely spares a glance at Gisela until she gets close enough that ignoring her is no longer an option, and then her eyes are only filled with annoyance. She doesn¡¯t care about Gisela at all. I swallow hard and ready my spells just in case that annoyance is more dangerous than I expected.

    Mouths open. Gisela makes a few simple hand gestures, barely motioning in Gasp¡¯s direction, then at the Preseravtion. Ava grimaces as her annoyance falls away, leaving some sort of complex emotion to take center stage that I can¡¯t really pinpoint. For some reason, her hands stop trembling. She says something back to Gisela that makes her tilt her head in confusion, then gently pats her shoulder and spins her around with an even gentler push.

    Gisela seems utterly befuddled as she makes her way back to me. If anyone saw my face, I bet they¡¯d see almost the exact same expression mirrored on me. I look past Gisela for a moment to try and figure out where I¡¯d miscalculated, and my blood runs cold at the emotionless mask on Ava¡¯s face. She¡¯s staring directly at Noland, Zeze, and Taka. After a few seconds she switches over to Gasp, and her entire body goes still.

    No trembling rage. No annoyance. Just¡­ stillness. Somehow, that is scarier than anything she¡¯s shown so far.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Gisela says as she takes her spot at my side. ¡°I don¡¯t think it worked.¡±

    I barely notice her. She raises an eyebrow at me, then turns to look at Ava and goes quiet. So it¡¯s not just me. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s a good thing.

    Magic coats Ava like a thin film of plastic. It crinkles and vacuum seals to her skin, creating a shimmering sort of body armor that sends horrible pangs of danger to my awareness. She flexes her fingers, then lets them dangle limply at her sides; nothing like the clenched fist she¡¯d shown a minute ago.

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    Something important has changed. It has to do with what I told Gisela to say. But¡­ why? Shouldn''t it have made Ava angry and distrustful? Why is she so goddamn quiet? Before I can even start to put together an answer Noland laughs loud enough for me to hear and breaks away from the rest of HuSt, smiling with predatory glee as they stare holes through his back.

    He beelines for us without even trying to be stealthy. ¡°So how¡¯d it go?¡± He asks as he jogs to my side. ¡°Oh, wait, Ava¡¯s in brutality mode. Nice work.¡±

    I nearly choke on my own spit. ¡°Brutality mode?!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, brutality mode. You think killing a few assholes is what got HuSt in hot water with the world?¡± Nolan laughs and shakes his head. ¡°Ava did what we in the business call a ¡®bunch of war crimes¡¯. I¡¯ll be the first to admit that a few of them kind of sound like exactly what I did, but the difference is that she¡¯s not great at distinguishing people forced into service from anyone willingly going out and murdering civilians.¡±

    An image of Ursula deciding to nuke a marching army pops into my mind. It isn¡¯t hard to superimpose Ava over her image. Suddenly, I don¡¯t feel confident in my coins¡¯ abilities to protect Gisela. Or myself.

    ¡°Is it¡­ safe to be here?¡±

    ¡°Safe?¡± Noland snorts out a laugh. ¡°Shelby, nothing we do is safe. Our big question now is what Ava decides she needs to do; kill the people she thinks are her enemies, or kill everyone.¡±

    Gisela swallows hard. ¡°Isn¡¯t there a good chance those options are one and the same?¡±

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a damn good chance. If I had to bet, nine out of ten people here are going to die. Maybe closer to nineteen out of twenty. But if you sowed the right seeds, Ava shouldn¡¯t see us as the enemy.¡± Nolan crosses his arms and nods confidently. ¡°We¡¯re the only ones not involved in this. Even if she does want to kill us, we¡¯ll have plenty of time to get away while she works her way down the murder ladder.¡±

    I hold out a hand to stop him from rambling on. Zeze and Ernest just started walking up to the mech, and two random people emerged from inside with what looks like a platform politicians host their speeches on. Noland glances over at them and shuts up instantly. Gisela gulps and starts wringing her hands.

    ¡°This is going to get messy.¡± Pearl says flatly. ¡°Don¡¯t forget that you have no stakes in this, Shelby. It¡¯s perfectly fine to let them kill each other and run away.¡±

    ¡°I would say it is preferable, not just fine. They wish to restrict our world; it is better that they are gone.¡± Fleur continues without a hint of mercy in her words. ¡°Would it not be in our best interests to leave with hands unbloodied?¡±

    There¡¯s a part of me that agrees with them. But there¡¯s another part of me that wants to know how the hell this is going to play out. I twisted fate to be the best outcome for the resort. Is that still active? Did it end, and now we¡¯re playing things out with no influence whatsoever? I want to see how this ends.

    The two Preservation workers set up the platform, salute Ernest, then scurry back into the mech. Ernest doesn¡¯t acknowledge their existence as he steps onto it, raising himself above the rest, and continues to ignore Zeze as she joins him. Gasp and Shout quickly take to either side of Ernest like bodyguards, while Phineas and the woman¨CLucille, I think¨Ccontinue to schmooze with the billionaires, politicians, and a new addition in Taka.

    ¡°Today is a grand day.¡± Ernest¡¯s voice slams directly into my ears, through my thoughts, and forces my attention solely on him. ¡°Through many months of strenuous and tentative work, we have finally reached agreements with enough governing bodies to implement the first steps of our grand plan: the one which our organization is named after.¡±

    I sneer and force Gasp¡¯s magic out of my head, then do the same for Gisela. A quick glance at Noland, which he returns, shows that I don¡¯t need to do it to him. So I go right back to listening to the asshole on stage.

    ¡°The Humanity Preservation Initiative details many goals which we must achieve if we want humanity to survive this apocalypse. First and foremost, we must stop class coins from falling into the hands of those who would do any sort of harm. Once that has been achieved, and we have a suitable stock of coins, we will begin nationwide screenings for those who wish to gain a class of their own.¡±

    He motions at Gasp. ¡°My friend here is more than competent enough to determine who is a danger to humanity and who is not. Yet, if wielded improperly, her Class could be a true danger to the world. To us. To humanity.¡±

    Gasp shifts awkwardly. Combined with the almost¡­ emotionless way in which Ernest delivers his speech, it feels like something¡¯s wrong. Like I didn¡¯t account for something that should be insanely obvious in hindsight. Ernest glances down at Ava, as if expecting something of her, then clicks his tongue in disappointment.

    ¡°Her class is Psychic. And under the Humanity Preservation Initiative, it will be completely outlawed.¡±

    Ernest snaps his fingers. Shout¡¯s arm whips out like a cracked whip, claws of buzzing grey energy emanating from his fingertips. Gasp screams. Betrayal and fear and desperation leave her in a bloody gurgle, her neck dangling from strands of muscle as Shout¡¯s blades fall just short of complete decapitation.

    ¡°Rejoice, my precious comrades!¡± Ernest throws his hands up, his voice suddenly full of emotion and vigor. ¡°The temptress who toys with your mind is no more! And nobody like her will ever darken your thoughts with worries of hypnotism and propaganda ever again!¡±

    My muscles tense as I look to Zeze for her reaction. I don¡¯t see one. Either she doesn¡¯t care at all, or this was premeditated. Ernest¡¯s speech takes on an almost preaching tone in the wake of Gasp¡¯s death, his words ringing hollow in my skull, I dully realize that I was right. There was a scapegoat. Ava was unknowingly a part of the plan.

    I just had all the actors in the wrong roles. And as Ava dives for Gasp¡¯s body, wrapping her hands around the woman¡¯s neck stump as a plasticky glow trails up the seemingly fatal wound, I realize that I might¡¯ve misunderstood her motivations as well.

    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Taka screams, popping out of nowhere to appear at Ava¡¯s side. ¡°You¡¯re healing a goddamn monster!¡±

    Ava turns, her face an utterly blank mask. Taka flinches. Magic wells up in his body, but just before he can teleport away, Ava presses her palm to his chest. Another scream rips free of his throat. And as he teleports, a foot-wide chunk of his chest doesn¡¯t go with him.

    His body appears right next to Noland. Eyes wide, full of fear, and not wanting to die.

    ¡°Help.¡± he squeaks out, even though it shouldn''t be possible.

    Noland laughs in the man¡¯s face. ¡°Who do you think we are?¡±

    Taka falls to the ground, dead. But somehow, Ernest¡¯s speech continues unabated. As if nobody even noticed Ava going to Gasp¡¯s side, Taka¡¯s outburst, or his sudden death. Whispers of magic much like Gasp¡¯s tickle at my ears.

    My last realization for the hour is that this is far, far from over.

 Chapter 114: Scapegoats

    Shout flicks Gasp¡¯s blood at Ava¡¯s back. His claws shiver and sing with magic that sounds and feels exactly like Gasp¡¯s, and for a moment, it looks like he¡¯s going to ignore the fallen woman. But something stops him. His entire body tenses like a bowstring, and he slowly raises his claws into the air as Gasp¡¯s magic intertwines with something sharp, grey, and deadly.

    Still, Ernest doesn¡¯t stop talking. He shoots the smallest of glances our way, noting Taka¡¯s death by the smallest raise of his eyebrows that I think is possible. With a motion of his shoulders that I almost miss he gets Zeze¡¯s attention, and suddenly, all background noise fades away. Gisela opens her mouth to scream. Zeze¡¯s magic silences her.

    ¡°That¡¯s not good.¡± Noland says in the understatement of the year. ¡°It looks like Shout can steal spells just like I can, and Ernest just scapegoated an entire section of the class-bearing population. Was this always their plan?¡±

    I grimace and gently push Gisela behind the tree, then coat her in a triple-thick bubble of shields. Her eyes widen and she tries to say something, but thanks to Zeze, all she can do is reach for her notepad once again.

    ¡°I think Ava was supposed to kill Gasp.¡± I say slowly. ¡°What we did made her think twice for some reason. Plus, it seemed to make her turn on HuSt. Why? What does she know that we don¡¯t?¡±

    Ava grabs Gasp¡¯s head. She grips it tight, carefully maneuvers it into place, then wraps both of her hands around the dead woman¡¯s neck. Plasticy magic pours down her arms and into the wound, filled with a sensation that is so absolutely alien to me that I can¡¯t begin to actually describe it.

    It is life. But it¡¯s so plasticy and artificial that I really hesitate to call it that.

    Gasp¡¯s body shudders and lurches. Her hands wrap around Ava¡¯s arms, her legs spasm like she¡¯d just been kicked behind both knees, and her head slams into Ava¡¯s nose. Ava doesn¡¯t flinch¨Cshe just keeps pressing tightly, even as Gasp¡¯s seemingly involuntary spasm¡¯s batter her body with heavy blows with the weight of metal behind them.

    For some reason, Shout stopped just short of digging his claws into Ava¡¯s back. He looks down at her, his expression hidden behind his mask, and takes a half-step back. His body language speaks of fear and disbelief. Ernest snaps his fingers twice and points down at the pair of women with the impatience of someone who sees life as a currency.

    Should we really just be watching this?

    It doesn¡¯t feel right just standing here. In two quick actions, Ava completely mystified me and left me wondering what the hell her deal is. Gasp¡¯s death almost made me question Ernest¡¯s motivations, but with Shout stealing her spell, it turns out I had him pegged right all along. The thing is, he wants to have his cake and eat it, too.

    He wants to look like the paragon fighting against mind control and propaganda while also having it in his back pocket in case of emergencies. But he can never have it in the form of a Psychic Class¨Cwhich most likely means Shout can permanently copy things, unlike Noland who just hijacks them.

    ¡°Can we do anything here?¡± I turn to Noland, and find myself staring at a very strained expression. ¡°What¡¯s that face about?¡±

    Noland makes a conflicted noise deep in his throat. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening. Depending on how much of this was planned, it might be extremely dangerous to try and do anything right now. Shout hasn¡¯t killed Ava or tried to finish off Gasp. Ernest is acting like none of this matters. Is this still according to their plan? Do they even have a plan at all, or was the entire point of this just to kill off a few HuSt members and solidify their position among the elite?¡±

    ¡°Well, Taka¡¯s dead, and Zeze¡¯s still up on stage with Ernest.¡± I glance down at the corpse with a square missing from its chest and grimace. ¡°Let¡¯s assume their ultimate goal¡¯s still the same; get support to control all class coin distribution and legality. How do they complete that goal, continuing from right here and now?¡±

    ¡°By letting Ava and Gasp run away, making them a pair of evildoers that they need to protect everyone else from.¡± Pearl frowns and crosses her arms. ¡°I don¡¯t know why they¡¯re stooping to this if they have access to Shellraiser tech; that plus strong system-born should be more than enough to strong-arm a lot of the world.¡±

    ¡°Except for HuSt, by my understanding.¡± Fleur corrects Pearl. ¡°Could it be that HuSt is not quite as unified as we think it is, and that this is a way to drive a wedge between those in HuSt that support the Preservation¡¯s actions and those who do not?¡±

    ¡°That makes a lot of sense.¡± I mutter to myself, surprising both Gisela and Noland. I motion at my head as an explanation, which satisfies Noland and only makes Gisela more confused. ¡°Noland¡­ what if the plan was just for something to happen? The Preservation doesn¡¯t care at all who dies, or who says what, as long as something happens that they could capitalize on.¡±

    I nod and set my jaw as the idea takes root. ¡°Ava kills Gasp after Ernest denounces her; the Preservation and HuSt solidify their ties. Ava does nothing and Shout kills Gasp; the Preservation looks like the good guys, and HuSt supports them. Ava turns on the Preservation; the Preservation kills her, then Gasp, and says HuSt was under control of a Psychic to demean them. I could go on, but do I need to?¡±

    Noland shakes his head. ¡°It doesn''t matter what exactly happened; the Preservation just needed something to happen. That¡¯s why they brought Ava and Gasp; hell, maybe it¡¯s even why they brought Phineas the diddler. As long as one of the volatile personalities went off, they got what they wanted: a scene to take advantage of.¡±

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    Bitter disgust works its way to the tip of my tongue, and I have to resist the urge to spit. ¡°We gave them a damn good one to work with. How do we undo it?¡±

    Gisela taps my shoulder, and I turn my gaze to see her scribbled-in notebook.

    ¡®It¡¯s almost time to make the switch. Can you get me to the stage, remove Zeze¡¯s magic, and protect me?¡¯

    I lean back after reading with a frown. ¡°That¡¯s a tall ask. Why?¡±

    She turns her notebook back to herself, quickly scribbles something out, and turns it to me. ¡®I can¡¯t tell you. It¡¯s¡­ the backup plan we had for if we couldn¡¯t get in on the Preservation¡¯s plan.¡¯

    A secret backup plan from the people who constantly lied to us. Yeah, that sounds like the kind of thing I definitely want to be a part of. But if she thinks it¡¯ll do something for our current situation¡­

    ¡°Noland? What do you think?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°Might as well. We¡¯ve got fifteen minutes until Ursula gets here. Will whatever you¡¯re about to do buy us that much time?¡±

    Gisela¨Cno, this is Dora¨Cnods confidently as she writes without looking at her hands. ¡®As long as you can keep me alive, Gisela will finish the other half of the plan near when the party¡¯s about to end. I promise it won¡¯t do anything to hurt you or the resort.¡¯

    ¡°Shit, we¡¯ve got no better options.¡± He sighs and looks at me. ¡°Let¡¯s do it, Shelby. Shout and Zeze are the only real worries, so don¡¯t let them out of your awareness. Make three relocations and I¡¯ll get them to the stage.¡±

    I don¡¯t bother asking why he needs three if he¡¯s going to get them to the stage; I just do as he asks. My coins fill with spells almost instantly, and after touching them to each of us, Noland palms all three of them and gently tosses them upwards.

    ¡°Alright. Gisela, I¡¯m going to take control of Zeze¡¯s spell the second I get there. Shelby, you keep Shout away from Gisela. Oh, and give me a few coins with shields in them.¡± He holds out a hand again, and with a roll of my eyes, I make some for him. ¡°Thank you very much. These will keep Gisela safe for however long she needs, but be aware that the Presrvation could start up their mech at any time. And that Ava and Gasp are complete unknowns as of this moment. Ready?¡±

    I nod. So does Gisela.

    ¡°Alright. We¡¯ve got this.¡±

    He flicks a coin into the air, lets it spin around three times, then snatches it with his other hand and whips it at the stage. Zeze and Shout both startle and snap directly to it, magic flaring from both of their forms, and they close in on my coin in a millisecond. I grit my teeth and feel for the connection to my coin, wait for it to be close enough to the stage, and trigger it.

    Noland flickers from my side to the stage. Zeze and Shout converge on him in a heartbeat, spells and claws aimed to pierce his heart. For a split second I wonder why the hell Ava is still allowed to heal Gasp untouched, but I¡¯m answered with a shuddering cough that comes from just a foot away from me.

    Taka stands up. His eyes are glassy, and I can see through the hole in his chest, but he¡¯s undoubtedly alive. He shakily snaps his fingers and his section of torso appears back in his chest, held in place by strands of magic that very slowly start to heal him.

    ¡°That bitch.¡± He mumbles drunkenly and takes a step towards me. ¡°She was supposed to die, not me. Gotta¡­ tellllllll¡­ thhhemm¡­¡­.¡±

    I stare at him, my muscles tense for a fight, but Taka doesn¡¯t meet my gaze. In fact, his eyes aren¡¯t focused on anything. He just stumbles slowly forward, clutching his chest as he mutters incoherently. Before I can even think, two voices speak inside of my head in unison.

    ¡°Kill him.¡±

    ¡°Kill him.¡±

    My hand moves. A projectile screams into my coin, and I shove it towards Taka¡¯s chest. Some part of him notices the motion. His eyes try to focus on me, but fade into dull unknowing. A whirl of magic bursts free from my coin, ripping him apart from the waist up in a spray of magic, blood, and¡­ and¡­

    Salt.

    Thoughts race through my mind as the mass of writhing, deadly magical salt continues to mince what remains of Taka¡¯s torso. But I don¡¯t need an explanation¨CI know that this is because of Fleur. What confuses the hell out of me is why absolutely nothing informed me of this change. And¡­ what it means for Fleur as a person.

    Gisela grips my shoulder tight. The look in her eyes says she is not okay with what just happened. The look that replaces it says she¡¯s far too used to not being okay with things. She shudders, straightens her back, and puts on an aire that¡¯s both confident and unshakeable. With a confident nod, she puts away her notebook and lets go of me.

    The sound of her breathing comes back in a flicker of gold. She glances down at her chest, as if not quite sure she could actually talk, and quietly whispers a string of vowel and consonant sounds to herself.

    It¡¯s time. I take hold of the other two coins, completely putting Taka¡¯s death out of my mind, and readying myself for the rest of what the Preservation and HuSt can throw at us.

    My spell rips us away, and in the blink of an eye, we¡¯re on the stage. Looking out over a sea of glazed-over eyes, placidly excited expressions, and a complete dissociation from what they definitely just saw. Ernest rages against one of my shields¨Cthis one keeping him inside like a bug in a plastic container.

    Gisela swallows hard, then takes a deep breath.

    ¡°You¡¯ll do fine.¡± I whisper to her and shift my focus to Shout, who breaks away from Noland in utter silence. ¡°Do what you gotta do.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t answer me. ¡°To everyone here; this is why magic is terrifying. Just like conventional weapons, anyone who wields one against an unarmed populace is a brutal monster.¡±

    Ava finally looks up at the sound of Gisela¡¯s voice. Gasp¡¯s helmet moves as well. Gisela barely glances down at them, but I know they see each other.

    ¡°But laws can kill just as easily as any weapon.¡± She continues, growing visibly angry as she speaks. ¡°And the Preservation doesn¡¯t just want control of the weapons¨Cthey want control of the laws as well. Leaving absolutely nothing for us to survive with.¡±

    Her fist slams against a platform. ¡°If we let them get away with this, it isn¡¯t just magic they¡¯ll control! It¡¯s literally everything!¡±

 Chapter 115: Sister Swap

    Gisela¡¯s declaration falls on deaf ears. Yet, somehow, they cheer. Just like they¡¯d been cheering since Ernest started talking. They¡¯re still being controlled by Shout. Absolutely and utterly. I put a hand on Gisela¡¯s shoulder and nod for her to keep going, but she doesn¡¯t even notice me. It¡¯s like she doesn¡¯t care if the audience is listening.

    Scraping noise rips through the air. I snap to the source; Shout, bringing his bizarre grey claws down through the air like an artist would their brush. Silence shears away and his noise bursts forth; growling anger and spitting curses that are barely audible under the former. Warning shivers down my spine as I stare at those claws; he stole Gasp¡¯s ability. There¡¯s no way to know what else he stole.

    ¡°Step aside, worthless whore.¡± He spits as I put myself between him and Gisela. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing. You don¡¯t know the consequences.¡±

    I snort and call more coins to my hand. ¡°Pretty sure I know exactly what I¡¯m doing. How about you? Are you a mindless little worker bee, charmed by Ernest¡¯s sweet words, or are you actually so stupid to think he won¡¯t throw you away like he threw away Gasp?¡±

    Shout raises his hand without the claws. Magic condenses at his fingertips; raw, potent, and sharp. It doesn¡¯t look like he wants to say anything else. I toss three coins at his feet, fill them with projectiles, and detonate them without hesitation.

    His fingers ball into a fist. The magic he was preparing shifts as my salty whirls of absurd power threaten to tear him limb from limb, and suddenly, they all die out. My projectiles, the stuff on his fingertips, and even the claws on his hand. But not the mind control. That stays up.

    ¡°What kind of power was that¡­¡± He mutters quietly, his fingers shaking ever so slightly. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be this powerful. They¡¯re just¡­ coins.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and summon a few more coins. ¡°Making excuses already? Are all you speakers really this weak?¡±

    An angry noise bubbles out of his throat. ¡°I am not weak. Whatever you are¡­ you aren¡¯t human. Just like the freak in gold.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Noland pouts and crosses his arms as Zeze clutches her throat. ¡°I¡¯m one hundred percent human. Just like Sheby¡¯s thirty-three percent human. It isn¡¯t our fault you idiots measure your power against each other instead of the actual challenges the other world gives you.¡±

    ¡°Shelby is completely human!¡± Fleur cries. ¡°Just because her biology slightly changed, it doesn¡¯t change the quality of her person!¡±

    Pearl coughs. ¡°I think he¡¯s referring to what Illumisia and I did to save her, not her character.¡±

    ¡°...Oh. In that case, I apologize for my outburst. Carry on.¡±

    I smile to myself and take a step towards Shout. He flinches for a split second and quickly gathers himself, but he can¡¯t hide his fear. His claws flicker back on, but a single coin plinks off his chest and he nearly crumples to the ground in panic.

    ¡°It¡¯s empty, dipshit.¡± I sigh and shake my head ¡°There¡¯s no way in hell you¡¯re the best the Preservation has to offer. Honestly, I doubt you¡¯re the best the Preservation has here today. What happened? Did you push away all the really strong people when the weaklings started taking power?¡±

    Shout just falls to his knees without an answer. I grimace and flick another empty coin at his head, but he doesn¡¯t even flinch this time. He just falls flat on his face, his claws harmlessly at his side, and his magic somehow still active.

    ¡°Dude¡­ that¡¯s just pathetic.¡± I glance over at Gisela, who¡¯s still going on about her ideals, then down at Ava and Gasp. Who¡­ both seem to be listening intently. ¡°Noland, you have to see this. It looks like Gisela¡¯s getting through to them.¡±

    He turns on a dime and tilts his head. ¡°Really? Now this I have to see; oh, but give me two seconds first.¡± He glances over his shoulder at a wide eyed and teary Zeze. ¡°Tell everyone at HuSt that if they try anything funny, we¡¯re going to kill them. No mercy, no questions, just a swift and brutal death. Am I understood?¡±

    Zeze doesn¡¯t answer; she just raises a hand to her neck and gently prods at a golden bruise shaped like strangle marks. Noland sighs in annoyance and kneels down, grabs her by the hair, and forces her to look at him.

    ¡°I remember what you did, silencer.¡± He whispers just loud enough for me to hear. ¡°Do what you¡¯re told or die pointlessly. I really don¡¯t care which.¡±

    She swallows hard, then nods in acknowledgement. Noland offers her a cold smile, shoves her away, and starts walking towards Shout. He steps over him like a piece of suspicious cloth on a summer sidewalk, all the while watching Gisela give an impassioned yet roundabout speech to a crowd of basically zombies.

    ¡°Nice words. Too bad they¡¯re going to deaf ears.¡± He says, then presses something into my hand. ¡°They¡¯re starting up the robot right now. But they suck at it, so it¡¯s going to take about three minutes before they¡¯re all done. Take Gisela, follow the arrow on that thing, and do the thing when it changes to a check mark.¡±

    I look down at the small digital display in my hand. ¡°Why are we still doing this? Isn¡¯t the party a complete wash now?¡±

    Noland shakes his head. ¡°For the Preservation and HuSt, sure. But not for everyone else. In fact, this is the perfect time for Gisela to get her schmooze on with all these freshly-betrayed influentials. Remember, we¡¯re still here because of the coins¨Cand their purpose hasn¡¯t been finished just yet.¡±

    Even though it feels like a half-assed explanation to me, I honestly don¡¯t give a shit. Kicking the Preservation to the curb and stomping a few times is more than enough of a reason for me to keep going. So I clutch the display in one hand, give Noland a confirmatory nod, and gently but firmly grab Gisela by the elbow.

    ¡°Swap time.¡± I whisper into her ear.

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    Her muscles tense up. ¡°Thank you, everyone and anyone who found truth in my words. And I leave you with this: magic is not some tool, or weapon, or even a resource; it is a new truth. Something fundamentally different that we have to accept is part of our reality now. These next few years will determine how we see that truth, and if we leave it up to selfish powermongers, it will be squandered and dished out how they see fit.¡±

    She steps away, scanning the crowd as she does. All she sees is two eyes and a faceplate locked with her own¨Cthough whether it¡¯s out of admiration, disbelief, agreement, or hatred, I can¡¯t tell. Gisela points directly at Ava, then at Gasp, and finally takes my arm and gestures for us to get going.

    When we¡¯re out of earshot, she sighs and holds her free hand to her chest. ¡°Well, that was the most humiliating thing I¡¯ve ever done. I can¡¯t believe that I didn¡¯t manage to sway anyone at all from the Preseration¡¯s cause.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ isn¡¯t that because they¡¯re¡­ you know¡­¡± I wave my hand over my eyes. ¡°Mind controlled?¡±

    Gisela frowns. ¡°I thought that stopped when Gasp died.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ couldn¡¯t you still feel it? Or at least see how everyone was still completely zombie-like?¡±

    ¡°No. To me they were just¡­ silent.¡± She pauses in thought for a good few seconds. ¡°Did I get affected by Gasp¡¯s magic? Did she actually die, or was that just my imagination?¡±

    ¡°She definitely nearly died. Ava did something to bring her back, but she didn¡¯t reactivate her magic afterwards. Because she didn¡¯t have to; Shout did something to steal it. Just like Noland did.¡±

    Gisela seems taken aback. Didn¡¯t¡­ didn¡¯t we talk about it? Was she affected by Shout¡¯s magic way more than I thought?

    ¡°Oh. Oh my.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, oh my.¡± I agree and look down at the display. The arrow shifts a little to the right, and so do I. ¡°I was wondering why you gave an impassioned speed to an audience of two. You ready for the swap?¡±

    She nearly stops. I stumble at the sudden weight on my arm and twist around to look at her, expecting to see¡­ something, but instead, I get the blankest expression I¡¯ve ever seen.

    ¡°Gisela? What¡¯s wrong?¡± I shake off her arm and look around. ¡°Is someone here? Are you in danger?¡±

    Dumbstruck is the best explanation I can think of; Gisela¡¯s completely dumbstruck by something. She blinks slowly, like she can¡¯t believe what she¡¯s seeing, even though I know she¡¯s not looking at anything. Unless¡­

    I whip around and hiss out a curse. ¡°Shout¡¯s damn magic. You stay here¨CI¡¯ll go get Noland to¨C¡±

    ¡°No!¡± She snaps out of it and grabs my arm. ¡°It¡¯s nothing that serious. I¡­ I was just¡­ excited and worried. Even though I think I sowed the seeds pretty well, if it turns out I couldn¡¯t convince everyone, I just made Gisela¡¯s job infinitely harder.¡±

    Ah, self-doubts. That makes sense. I sigh in relief and grab Gisela¡¯s arm, pulling her into the fastest walk she can manage in heels. It still feels like there¡¯s something she¡¯s not telling me, but it¡¯s definitely about their company¡¯s standing with everyone else here. Now that I know Noland has an emergency button labeled ¡®destroy the world¡¯, I¡¯m a lot less bothered by the prospect of alliances between regular-ass people.

    HuSt and the Preservation, though, I want to be as powerless as possible. So, in some way, Gisela bartering alliances sort of helps us.

    ¡°So you¡¯re fine? No issues right now?¡±

    Gisela nods. ¡°I¡¯m perfectly fine. Once I get away from Shout, I¡¯ll be even better.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Then let¡¯s keep moving.¡±

    We quickly make our way to a secluded corner of the floating platform. The little display still shows we need to go further, but Gisela¡¯s starting to slow down. It looks like her vitality is slowly draining away, but no matter what I do, I can¡¯t feel any magic on her. I gently put a hand on her shoulder and try to get a feel for it, but she brushes me away with a thin smile.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s just catching up to me now. I promise I¡¯m fine.¡±

    I have a little harder time believing her this time, but there¡¯s absolutely no evidence to prove my suspicions. Unless I want to slow everything down, I have no choice but to keep following the arrow. Pearl and Fleur are pretty quiet, save for the occasional whisper that I can¡¯t make out, and I assume that one of them would chime in if something was actually wrong.

    So we just keep walking. Gisela gets a little worse with every step, her breath hitching every dozen or so steps and her footsteps growing unsteady enough that she stumbles a little too much. I open my mouth to ask her again, but a glare shuts me up right then and there. Whatever¡¯s happening to her, she knows what it is. And from how she isn¡¯t panicking in the slightest, it isn¡¯t something new.

    ¡°Tell me what¡¯s going on.¡± I say as we crest the edge, and the arrow shifts to a checkmark. ¡°Is it something mundane?¡±

    She huffs as she struggles up the small hill, the ground far below sprawling out in a desert wasteland. With barely anything but a single limousine waiting down below.

    ¡°Exhaustion. Social anxiety. And a heavy helping of a lot of uppers wearing off.¡± She sighs in relief. ¡°I get way too worried about what people are thinking. Like¡­ what if they find out that I¡¯m not Gisela? What if I¡¯m not doing a good enough job? But that¡¯s all done now. So I¡¯m going to take a long nap in the limo until I have to leave.¡±

    Her hands cross in front of her hips, and her shoulders sag something fierce. She turns to me, and any remnants of Gisela wash away like drawings in the sand. Leaving nothing but a very exhausted, anxious, and relieved Dora to shyly glance down at my neck. Then, with a deep blush, she instead chooses to look away completely.

    ¡°Thanks for helping me keep up the charade.¡± She says quickly. ¡°It¡¯s fun being Gisela for a little while, but I like being myself for ninety five percent of the time. Keep my sister safe, okay? She has¨C¡±

    Before Dora can finish her sentence, a portal appears right next to her. I frown into it, where Ursula waits right next to the real Gisela, who¡¯s dressed exactly like Dora is and is watching¡­ something on a screen. It kind of looks like¡­ me. Or my shoulder, at least.

    ¡°Good work, Dora.¡± Gisela grins, sets the tablet down, and steps out of the portal. ¡°Leave the rest to me and go have a nice nap. Don¡¯t forget to set an alarm.¡±

    Dora smiles sleepily. ¡°I won¡¯t. It¡¯s way too important.¡±

    Gisela pulls Dora into a deep hug. ¡°I know you won¡¯t. Love you, sis.¡±

    Dora reciprocates the hug, and even pushes her face into Gisela¡¯s shoulder a little. ¡°I love you too.¡±

    After a few more hug-filled seconds, Dora breaks away and shambles through the portal. She basically collapses onto one of the bench seats, and Ursula quickly takes her pulse before looking over at me.

    ¡°We¡¯re still on track. Fill me in on whatever shit you two got yourselves into when we¡¯re done, yeah?¡±

    I nod. ¡°Will do. It¡¯s shaping up to be a damn good story, too.¡±

    An explosion of heat and magic punctuates my point. I glance over my shoulder at a sea of shaking trees and heat haze, emanating from something in the distance that glows a sickly green.

    ¡°Seems like you¡¯re at an action point right now, so I¡¯ll get out of your hair.¡± Ursula salutes with a grin. ¡°See ya!¡±

    ¡°See ya.¡± I repeat, and the portal crumbles into nothing. I turn to Gisela, who seems way too calm for this. ¡°Let¡¯s catch you up before we move.¡±

    She shakes her head and latches onto my arm just like Dora did. ¡°I got the gist. Let¡¯s go see if Dora¡¯s speech actually changed a few hearts. Oh, and don¡¯t let the mech kill us, please and thank you.¡±

 Chapter 116: Messages to Send

    Something¡­ halts in my mind. It¡¯s the casualness with which Gisela wants to walk into an active warzone. I¡¯m the one that has to protect her. But she¡¯s acting like it¡¯s already said and done¨Ceven when I can see the mech that towers over the trees shuddering and slowly moving. A normal-ass person like her should be hesitant at the very least.

    ¡°Gisela.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°How much of this did you know was going to happen?¡±

    ¡°Ah, that question.¡± She purses her lips, but doesn¡¯t let go of my arm. ¡°If I¡¯m being honest, no answer I give to you is going to be satisfying. And no matter what I say, you are going to think I¡¯m lying to you, right?¡±

    I grimace. Gisela nods.

    ¡°You see? Any explanation I can give will only raise more questions. So instead of an answer, I¡¯ll tell you this; I am extremely competent, but I¡¯m not a god. Any information I have is because we gathered it through realistic sources. Don¡¯t treat us as all-knowing gods who manipulated this to our advantage, and don¡¯t think we¡¯re bumbling idiots running around blind. Just imagine what might¡¯ve leaked about what happened so far, and assume that¡¯s the information we¡¯re working with.¡±

    As an explanation, that¡¯s about the worst one I¡¯ve ever heard. But¡­ I have to admit it makes sense. Gisela has no reason to actually tell me the entire truth. It benefits her far more to keep me guessing, so she doesn¡¯t reveal any sources or alliances that I might not like. Even if some of those people are dead now.

    Not much I can do about it, anyway. And if the truth ends up being too horrible, well, that¡¯s where Noland comes in.

    ¡°Fine.¡± I take an insistent step forward, and Gisela follows. ¡°We¡¯re done with you in a few hours anyway.¡±

    Her fingers tighten on my arm ever so slightly. I barely even notice it through the anticipation, and when I check her face for any emotion in my peripheral vision, she¡¯s all pleasant smiles. Must be the nerves finally starting to hit her.

    We retrace our path, and in a few short minutes, we¡¯re right back with the crowd. Zeze, Shout, and everyone else from the Preservation are nowhere to be seen, but the mind-controlled crowd still stands and cheers as if Noland staring down a massive mech on his own is the greatest form of entertainment.

    He lazily glances over at me. ¡°Shelby! Need your help with this one; they¡¯re being a real pain in the ass, and the mech doesn¡¯t technically use spells or skills. So I can¡¯t, you know, instantly win this one.¡±

    ¡°You sure you should be saying your weaknesses out loud like that?¡± I ask as Gisela breaks away from me and beelines for¡­ Ava and Gasp. ¡°Shit, they¡¯re still here? I thought they would¡¯ve run or died by now.¡±

    Gisela walks right up to them with a confidence Dora was emulating just minutes ago, and even though she¡¯s a class-less normal person, she doesn¡¯t show an ounce of fear. I focus my awareness on her just in case Ava gets obliterate-y, but the rest of me focuses on the mech that¡¯s still powering up for some reason.

    ¡°Sure takes a while, huh?¡± Noland notes casually. ¡°If any Shellraisers were watching this right now, I bet they¡¯d be pissed about how their tech is being butchered.¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Pearl vigorously agrees with a wicked scowl. ¡°Kill them for it!¡±

    There¡¯s her bloodthirst in the face of misuse of her people¡¯s tech. I wait for Fleur to chime in, but it doesn¡¯t look like the salt elemental has a horse in this race.

    ¡°I bet they would be.¡± I say flatly and stare up at the mech¡¯s chest. ¡°So¡­ are we staying here? It looks like everything¡¯s dissolved into chaos¡­ well, as chaotic as it can be when the crowd¡¯s hypnotized. Why the hell can Psychics brainwash people anyway? That feels like an insane advantage for a normal class.¡±

    Noland shakes his head. ¡°It has an insanely high mana cost, and the skill to actually use it is pretty difficult to get a hang of. Shout can¡¯t work it at all¨Cthat¡¯s why they just kept cheering after Gasp got killed¨Cand since he has no control over it, even if I hijack it, I can¡¯t do anything.¡±

    ¡°So how does it end?¡±

    ¡°He runs out of mana. Or he dies. Or he passes out.¡± Noland shrugs. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of ways, but honestly, this works in our favor right now. A panicking crowd leads to much more collateral damage than a stupid, controlled one. I thought you already knew that; why else would you keep Shout alive?¡±

    I¡­ don¡¯t really have an answer for that. ¡°Guess I didn¡¯t even register him as a threat with how pathetic he was.¡±

    Noland¡¯s eyes go wide, then he throws his head back and laughs raucously. Gisela turns around at the noise, but neither Ava nor Gasp react to Noland¡¯s outburst. They must be used to weirdos in the heat of battle.

    ¡°I love that reason so much.¡± He smiles and wipes a tear from his eye. ¡°Next time I see him, I¡¯m going to shove that in his face before I rip his head from his shoulders. Oop, looks like the mech¡¯s finally about to do something. Toss me a few shields and projectiles, please.¡±

    Two shields and projectiles fill an equal amount of coins. I toss them to Noland, and before they even touch his hand, they start to glow gold. Having seen what he can do with empowered spells, this isn¡¯t going to last long. At all.

    He flicks a shield forward. A brilliant, golden wall shimmers into being just a few feet away from us¨Cprotecting Gisela and the rest of the hypnotized partygoers. Then he flicks the other shield towards the mech¨Cwhich materializes and starts shoving it away. He rolls his wrist and motions in the direction it¡¯s being pushed in.

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    ¡°Shall we follow it?¡±

    I roll my eyes. ¡°Not like we¡¯ve got a choice. Mind explaining something?¡±

    He breaks into a run. I sprint right after him, leaving Gisela to her own devices. The mech struggles against the shield, slamming its hands clumsily down on the top of it, but all that manages to do is put a single hairpin crack down the left side.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t destroyed them because they¡¯re better off alive.¡± He says through the whistling winds. ¡°Zeze has to deliver a message, Ernest¡¯s a constant we can build plans around, and Shout¡¯s scared shitless of us. If he can spread that fear through even a little of the Preservation, he¡¯ll save us dozens of skirmishes in the future.¡±

    ¡°But¨C¡±

    Noland cuts me off with a wave. ¡°I know, I know, they¡¯re horrible people and deserve to die. But they¡¯re a huge organization¨Cuntil we can destabilize them, another Ernest would rise to fill his spot before lunch. Can¡¯t risk that while we¡¯ve got other things on the go, yeah?¡±

    I grudgingly nod in agreement. Call is too important a piece to risk, and if the structure of the Preservation suddenly shifts, he might get shoved somewhere unimportant. So if we¡¯re going to take out the Preservation, it¡¯s going to have to be in one continuous attack. It¡¯ll take years to build up to that.

    ¡°I get it. Don¡¯t like it, but I get it.¡± I flick another shield at Noland, who deftly snatches it out of the air. ¡°If we¡¯re not destroying it, how are we getting it out of here?¡±

    ¡°Easy; we beat it an inch from being destroyed and let them get away. But we need to make it look like we aren¡¯t letting them get away, or else they¡¯ll get suspicious.¡± Noland shoots me a sly grin that sends a shiver down my spine. ¡°And wouldn¡¯t you know it, but there¡¯s a nearly abandoned city with a subwyrm problem that hasn¡¯t gotten out of hand just yet. It sure would be convenient if that happened to spill out of city limits just as they¡¯re about to lose, giving them an excuse to retreat?¡±

    Wow. He couldn¡¯t be clearer about what¡¯s going to happen if he suddenly turned transparent. I start to open my mouth to ask how he¡¯s going to manage that, but quickly decide that it¡¯d just be a waste of time. It¡¯s obviously got something to do with the portals we¡¯ve been using like candy and his seemingly bottomless Worth.

    ¡°Sure would be convenient for us, yeah.¡± I say flatly. ¡°Little warning about the projectiles; you have to regulate one aspect of them to affect another. Make ¡®em smaller and they¡¯re faster, make them immobile and they get more destructive, make ¡®em bigger and they don¡¯t last as long. Mix and match those and make a projectile that won¡¯t obliterate the mech.¡±

    He looks down at both projectile coins between his thumb and forefinger with a nod. ¡°Thanks for the heads-up. So if I want to make one that¡¯s the least destructive as possible¡­¡±

    He trails off and sneaks a glance over at me.

    ¡°Just ask and I¡¯d be happy to tell you.¡±

    ¡°Then please tell me.¡±

    ¡­If you have no trouble asking, then why the hell did you¡­ no, whatever, not worth bringing up. I push spells into my own coins as Noland¡¯s shield starts to wither under its own insane magical burden and picture exactly what Noland wants in my mind.

    ¡°Make it as big as possible, as long lasting as possible, and give it some complex movement commands. Picture as far into the future as you can, and if the spell feels too weak, pull back on the foresight until you get the right sensation.¡±

    Noland nods. ¡°Okay. So, say for instance I can¡¯t actually ¡®feel¡¯ spells; what would I do then?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°You can¡¯t feel spells? How¡¯d you cast the shield, then?¡±

    ¡°Simple. I put dimensions into it and gave it a direction. Everything else was done by the spell.¡± He shrugs. ¡°I¡¯ve never really had to do more than that. If you didn¡¯t know, most spells aren¡¯t as flexible as yours. You put mana or Worth in and you get the spell out.¡±

    ¡°Psst!¡± Pearl quickly pipes up. ¡°It¡¯s your awareness that¡¯s helping you!¡±

    Mmhm, I already figured that out. ¡°Then just input the parameters you want and toss it at a tree. If it¡¯s too destructive, make it bigger or longer lasting or whatever for the next one. I have enough Worth left for at least a few trial runs.¡±

    ¡°For you, maybe, but this is costing me a pretty penny¡­¡± Noland mutters, but it doesn¡¯t feel like he¡¯s actually complaining. Actually, it almost sounds like sarcasm. Yup¨Che¡¯s grinning at me. Definitely sarcasm. ¡°Okay, here we go. Parameters; as big as a wrecking ball, lasts for thirty minutes, and constantly draws a five-pointed star in the air as it slowly travels forward. Let¡¯s see how this¨C¡±

    As the coin leaves his hand, the world erupts in salted gold. A blur of whirling magic devours the landscape before me in the blink of an eye, shredding trees and sending thousands of splinters into the air like a spray of water droplets. I come to a complete stop as I watch the horrible spell fly off into the distance, rip a hole through the side of the concert venue, and keep going.

    ¡°I thought you said you made it slow.¡±

    Noland snorts out a humorless laugh. ¡°I thought so too. But I guess fifty meters per second is still a little too fast for something that¡¯s meant to be used for threatening people.¡±

    ¡°Fifty¡­¡± I turn and glare at him in disbelief. ¡°That¡¯s not goddamn slow! That¡¯s over a hundred miles an hour! You just threw a projectile going freeway speeds and you thought that was slow?!¡±

    Slowly, he nods to himself. ¡°I may have briefly forgotten how meters per second converts.¡±

    ¡°You think?¡± I sigh and shake my head. ¡°The destructiveness was way too high, too. It chewed through everything like it wasn¡¯t even there. Try increasing the time to, like, four hours and lowering the speed by a bunch. That should do the trick.¡±

    ¡°New commands input. Ready to roll.¡± Noland flicks the coin from one hand to the other, turns, and frowns. ¡°Where the hell did they go?¡±

    What? I snap around to where the mech was just a few seconds ago, and sure enough, there¡¯s a whole lot of nothing behind the last dregs of Noland¡¯s shield. We share a worried look and he motions for me to keep going.

    ¡°Your awareness will feel them. Find them.¡±

    ¡°Will do. Here.¡± I flip him three more shields and projectiles, along with two relocations. He returns one of them and pockets the one focused on me. ¡°I¡¯ll call if I find it, and you do the same. What¡¯s the chance they have stealth generators?¡±

    ¡°Extremely high. Be unbelievably careful.¡±

    With those words, he turns on his heel and sprints back in Gisela¡¯s direction. The thought that maybe I shouldn¡¯t be the one hunting the mech comes more than a few seconds too late, and when it reaches my lips, Noland is out of earshot. Sure, I could relocate or send him a message, but I kind of want to see how strong my version of the salted projectiles are.

    So, against my own best interests, I turn and run after the shield. And quite possibly into a trap.

 Chapter 117: The Mech And The Flower

    Manicured greenery shredded by one of many different magical attacks flies by me. A branch reaches down and smacks me across the shoulder, leaving stinging welts that inflame and disappear in a matter of heartbeats. Tiny salt crystals fall from the healed wounds and clatter to the ground.

    It should be a huge deal. I should be really worried that my body seemingly just did that. But right now, all I can focus on is the potential for the mech to pop out of thin air and sucker punch me. Will my awareness see it beforehand? Could I stop it with a shield of my own, or am I too weak for something of that magnitude?

    Not knowing the answer to those questions sends a shiver down my spine and settles in my gut like a lead ball. No matter how much better I am than a regular-ass human, there¡¯s things out there that are so far beyond human. Even if the mech is a poor quality reconstruction of Pearl¡¯s people¡¯s work, it¡¯s still unbelievably dangerous.

    ¡°I can¡¯t feel anything just yet. You¡¯re alright.¡± Pearl pipes up, cutting away my mind fog with ease. ¡°Fleur, can you do anything to help? Is your body strong enough to leave?¡±

    A light, ringing tone bounces around my skull. ¡°I think I am ready. Shelby, the moment I leave, I need you to accept me. Right now I am using Pearl as an intermediary between the two of us, but that will not work once I separate from her.¡±

    ¡°No idea how I¡¯m supposed to do that.¡± I huff between exerted breaths. ¡°Anyone mind giving me a quick little explanation?¡±

    ¡°It is simple; finish what began when you saved my life. Bind me to the world as Pearl has bound me to a form, and let me worship you in truth.¡± Fleur says seriously, and somehow, it doesn¡¯t sound cult-y at all. Just¡­ adoring. ¡°Name my species, accept me as its progenitor, and speak me into the reality of this existence.¡±

    Her words are excited and encouraging, but their contents are so far beyond my understanding that it¡¯s overwhelming. I always knew Fleur would come out of the shell at some point, but I thought I¡¯d be able to talk her down from worshiping me as a god. Or, at least, I thought Pearl would talk her down from it. Instead, it looks like my shellraiser companion fanned the flames of Fleur¡¯s devotion.

    And honestly¡­ I still don¡¯t have a name for Fleur¡¯s people. Now definitely doesn¡¯t feel like the right time to make a decision this important, what with all the danger, and I know I¡¯ll be able to come up with something better if I sleep on it. Problem is¡­ I don¡¯t think Fleur¡¯s going to accept that. She wants to come help me.

    Even if it means her species is stuck with some lame portmanteau of ¡®salt elemental¡¯ for the rest of time.

    ¡°I¡­ can we wait¨C¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    I grimace. That¡¯s exactly what I was worried about. ¡°Fine. Alright. I can come up with a good enough name that¡¯ll last for the rest of eternity. No pressure.¡±

    Pearl shoots me a look of disbelief. ¡°You haven¡¯t been thinking about this since I warned you? Shelby. Shame on you¨Cthis is the rest of Fleur¡¯s history!¡±

    ¡°I know, which is why if we just wait a little while¨C¡±

    This time, Pearl cuts me off. ¡°Oh, no, you don¡¯t get to delay Fleur¡¯s grand entrance. Come up with a bunch of good names now. I¡¯ll take over all the awareness using, so you can put all your brain power into thinking of a really good name. Um, by the way, the mech is about fifty feet in front of you and thirty feet to your right.¡±

    My mind takes a second to parse the information, then I snap to the location Pearl said. It looks like absolutely nothing to me, not even a shimmer of a rocket booster¡¯s heat warping the air. Their stealth tech must be extremely good. Or someone on board has a stealth spell.

    ¡°Any attacks?¡± I ask as I ready my coins. ¡°Will it break the stealth?¡±

    Pearl purses her lips in thought. ¡°Our tech wouldn¡¯t break, but it¡¯s really complicated. If they can¡¯t make the mech itself any better than what they have, there¡¯s no way they perfectly replicated our stealth generators. But just to be safe, assume they can attack while invisible until proven otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget me. I want to help.¡± Fleur makes another ringing noise, and Pearl shifts a little as if Fleur is right next to her. ¡°Use your godly brain to give my species a name that will resound through space and time as something to be feared and revered.¡±

    Okay, that felt like sarcasm. When did Fleur learn to use sarcasm? It¡¯s not like she¡¯s been constantly listening to me talk to Noland and Ursula for¡­ weeks. Ah. Whoops.

    ¡°Gambler!¡± A voice roars through the emptiness, full of rage and vitriol. ¡°You alone are nothing! Without the backing of a powerful patron, there is nothing you can do!¡±

    It¡¯s¡­ coming exactly from where Pearl said the invisible mech is. I don¡¯t recognize the voice, but I feel like I should. Maybe it¡¯s Phineas? Or¡­ Ernest using a voice changer? Either way, I don¡¯t feel any attacks coming my way, so it¡¯s not doing a great job of intimidation.

    ¡°Ignore them. I can¡¯t feel any magic readying for an attack.¡± Pearl sighs in annoyance. ¡°What a waste of perfectly okay tech. If I was behind the controls, I would at least give you a run for your money¡­ and if it was a true mech, you¡¯d be a splatter on the grass by now.¡±

    Strange way to insult them and me at the same time, but I¡¯ll just take the important parts out of those sentences. They¡¯re not attacking. Hell, they aren¡¯t even moving. Whoever¡¯s in the pilot seat must not have a clue what they¡¯re doing, or else they¡¯d be doing¡­ something. Running, fighting, attacking, whatever. But still something.

    I cock my head and put on the smarmiest expression I can manage. ¡°Was Gasp the only one who could pilot that thing? Or did all of you collectively lose a good chunk of your brain cells in the last thirty minutes?¡±

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    ¡°Why¡­ I never!¡± The voice scoffed. ¡°Insects like you need to know your place; crushed beneath the boots of your betters! Shout! End this vermin!¡±

    The mech decloaks. It¡¯s arm is outstretched, one finger pointing at me with smarmy confidence while the other arm is planted on its hip. I stare blankly at it in silence for a good few seconds, then shake my head and go right back to ignoring it.

    ¡°Alright, it¡¯s useless. Wonder if Gasp actually was the pilot.¡± I muse just loud enough for whoever¡¯s talking to hear.

    ¡°Mrrrrgh! Shout! What. Is. The. HOLDUP?!¡± The voice half-screams, half-demands as metallic impacts ring out. Almost like someone¡¯s banging a control panel with their fists. ¡°You¨Cno, I don¡¯t want excuses, I want results! I¡¯ve seen what these things can do! Get your sorry, whipped ass up here and destroy the resort¡¯s pet vermin!¡±

    ¡°Sorry¡­ boss¡­ but I can¡¯t.¡± Shout¡¯s voice, quiet and pathetic, joins the other. ¡°It takes magic to work the weapons, and I don¡¯t have the right kind of¨C¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding me?! You just stole the right damn magic from Gasp!¡± The voice hits a specific crescendo that brings images of flying spittle and bulging neck veins to mind. ¡°If you can¡¯t use her magic, what the hell was the point of all this?! Have you even tried, you sorry excuse for a speaker?!¡±

    ¡°I¡­ sorry, sir, I have.¡± Shout¡¯s voice gets quieter and even more pathetic. ¡°It¡¯s hard to control. I can¡¯t even change the spell I already have going, or else everyone¡¯s going to go back to normal.¡±

    ¡°NORMAL?! YOU CAN¡¯T EVEN DO THIS MUCH?! This is why you¡¯re constantly being paired up with competent speakers¨Cbecause you¡¯re so goddamn uselelss on your own that we can¡¯t¨C¡± The voice pauses. ¡°Shout, did you turn off the speakers?¡±

    ¡°Um, no, sir.¡±

    ¡°...Damn you.¡±

    Both voices cut out at the exact same time. I¡­ kind of feel like I just watched someone get reamed out for not doing their job right. It¡¯d be a little sad if I wasn¡¯t trying to seriously harm both the reamer and the ream-ee. Instead, it actually feels pretty damn satisfying. And the let one little nugget of information slip that they probably didn¡¯t mean to.

    The speakers aren¡¯t all as strong as each other. Not even close. That¡¯s definitely a weak point I can tell Call to abuse. It also looks like the mech¡¯s not going to pose me any problems any time soon, unless someone gets their head out of their ass and manages to fire a weapon at me.

    Leaving me plenty of time to think of a good name for Fleur¡¯s people. I shift my coins to auto react with my awareness if the mech does manage something and resume slowly walking towards it while deep in thought.

    My initial instinct is to make some portmanteau of salt, molten, and something to do with flowers. Honestly, if Fleur hadn¡¯t asked to be called that, ¡®Fleur¡¯ would have been a pretty good name for the species as a whole. Maybe something stupid like ¡®Nactar¡¯, using the Na from salt and ¡®ctar¡¯ from nectar.

    ¡­Nah, that¡¯s stupid. Way too punchy for someone as beautiful as Fleur. So, what do I know about salt, besides the grade-school level stuff? Not much, honestly. I was a business major. Haven¡¯t touched chemistry since high school. But I do like the ¡®nectar¡¯ angle; molten salt kind of looks like what I assume nectar does.

    I carefully step over a pothole and frown as the mech¡¯s arms fall limply to its sides. They must¡¯ve stepped away from the controls. Are they giving up? No, no, gotta stay focused on what¡¯s important¨Cnaming Fleur¡¯s species. The Preservation is just an annoyance right now.

    So¡­ nectar plus what? I¡¯ve never named anything before, really. Salt. Nectar. Molten. There¡¯s got to be something there that doesn¡¯t sound stupid or way too obvious. What¡¯s the specific name for salt crystals, anyway? I kind of remember there being one. Something-ite. Starts with an¡­ A? No, an H. H-something-ite.

    Wait, why am I wondering? Fleur definitely knows. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s the name for a salt crystal?¡±

    ¡°Are you referring to Halite?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s it. Halite.¡± I nod to myself. ¡°Give me a minute. I¡¯ll think of something.¡±

    Nectar. That¡¯s close-ish to ambrosia, another Greek mythological thing. Maybe¡­ Halsia? Halosia? Haltar? Halar? I wrinkle my nose and repeat them over and over in my mind; none of them spring out to me as the absolute best, so I have to discard all of them. I¡¯m not giving Fleur a name that got barely fifteen seconds of thought.

    ¡°Halsia, Halosia, Haltar, Halar¡­¡± I mutter under my breath. ¡°Nectite, Ambrite¡­ no. None of those sound right. I¡¯d probably need to put a ¡±

    ¡°Halsia¡­¡± Fleur trails off, her voice halfway between reverent and ferocious. ¡°From halite, ambrosia, and it is a near approximation of a plant itself. A salt approximation of a plant. Just as I am a salt approximation of a living creature.¡±

    Pearl winces and shakes her head. ¡°Don¡¯t call yourself an approximation.¡±

    ¡°No, no, I do not mean it that way.¡± Fleur laughs, full of confidence. ¡°I mean it purely in my form¨Cas I do not have to exist in the way a human would think of a sentient creature to have a body, and yet I chose to do so. I am salt and magic. I am Fleur. I am¡­ a Halsia.¡±

    I almost wince at the way she says a name I just kind of¡­ threw out there. ¡°You¡¯re damn sure?¡±

    ¡°More than almost anything else.¡±

    ¡°Alright, if you¡¯re happy with it.¡± I take a deep breath and straighten my back. ¡°Fleur, I name your people the Halsia.¡±

    ¡­No fireworks. No fanfare. Not even a word from Pearl or Fleur. It¡¯s like the world watched me do something stupid, and is staring at me wide-eyed in disbelief for how much of an idiot I am.

    ¡°Uh, did I do something wrong?¡±

    ¡°A little.¡± Pearl giggles. ¡°You can¡¯t just say something and think it¡¯ll work. But if you look at Fleur in your Class Card, and alter her species name as the first to discover her, then you¡¯ll finalize it. No turning back after that.¡±

    ¡°There is no need to turn back. I, personally, would much prefer to keep moving forward. Along with the both of you.¡±

    ¡°Aww.¡± Pearl hugs an empty space in her shell. ¡°We¡¯ll be happy to have you for real, Fleur! Adventures will be so much more fun with another voice in Shelby¡¯s head to talk with! Ooh, just wait until you meet Illumisia¨Cshe¡¯s going to love you!¡±

    ¡°I highly doubt that, but thank you for attempting to encourage me.¡± Fleur¡­ laughs. ¡°Please, Shelby, finalize my existence. If you feel you need my permission¨Cwhich you do not¨Cthen I give you my everything. You are my god. It is time to act like it.¡±

    Alright. Okay. I can do this. It¡¯s just an irreversible change that could have consequences far beyond what I can imagine. Nothing too serious. I take out my Class Card, swipe over to my information tab, and scroll down until I see a shimmering space without a name. Next to it is a rudimentary description of Fleur¨Cthat she¡¯s a salt elemental capable of complex thought¨Cand nothing more.

    I press my finger onto the sparkling emptiness. And for what feels like the first time in a while, a system notification plasters itself onto my vision.

    Naming process for unknown entity initiated.

    Once a name has been submitted, it cannot be changed without significant cultural upheaval.

    Someone such as you is undeserving of this honour.

    Enter name below.

 Chapter 118: A New Gods First Devout

    The system isn¡¯t any less unpleasant than I remember, that¡¯s for sure. It¡¯s the tiniest stain on my excitement to go back to the other world, but if Fleur can somehow cross worlds with me, I¡¯ll have another monstrously powerful being on my side. As long as she didn¡¯t get too weakened by my screwup.

    I press my fingers through the system¡¯s message. It dissipates like a reflection lost in the ripples, and all that¡¯s left in its wake is a simple keyboard and glittering empty spaces. Going as slow and carefully as I can to ensure I get the spelling right, I tap the letters one by one until the name I chose and Fleur accepted fills that empty space.

    The Halsia.

    Details; majority unknown.

    Recognized members of this species: Fleur, Shelby.

    ¡­What? Wait, why am I listed as a Halsia? I¡¯d understand being listed as a shellraiser or a painted dane, but why the hell am I a Halsia?

    Name accepted.

    System updated to use the proper terminology.

    Your stain will linger forevermore.

    Yeah, yeah, sure¨Cbe a sassy asshole. Hey, let¡¯s circle back to how I apparently became a part of another species without realizing it?! Did Fleur, like, take over all my body¡¯s salts while I was sleeping? Is that even possible? Shouldn¡¯t I have¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ noticed?

    A choir of glassy harmony softly rings in my head. Breaths filled with ecstasy and relief gently reach my ears, sobs and happy disbelieving laughter joining in as the moments stretch on. I send my Class Card away and just listen to Fleur as I approach the mech, her quiet joy contrasting heavily against the deep silence that surrounds the mech like a poisonous fog.

    ¡°Thank you. Thank you so much.¡± Fleur shakily whispers. ¡°I¡¯m alive. I¡¯m okay. And I¡¯m free to do whatever I want, unbound by the krarig or even a duplicate lovingly made for me back at the resort. Pearl, please let me out. I want to see Shelby in the flesh. Touch her with my own limbs. Thank her with my own voice, echoing through real air, not this marriage of thoughts and emotions.¡±

    A very beautiful way to say she wants the hell out. I close my eyes and gently press my hand against Pearl¡¯s shell, feeling the salt crystals on it dig slightly into my palm. They¡¯re nowhere near sharp enough to hurt me, but I know how much damage the stuff can do under Fleur¡¯s control.

    ¡°Whenever you¡¯re ready, Fleur.¡±

    ¡°Then now shall suffice.¡±

    Warmth trickles down the side of my head, sticking to me like a sweltering summer heat as it makes its way down my body. It feels different¨Cnot like the strangeness in the krarig, but not quite like Pearl either. The image of a waterlogged underground cave, with a temperature so high I couldn''t survive more than a few minutes inside, pushes to the forefront of my mind.

    And inside of that cave are beautiful, massive salt formations. A natural garden of minerals and shapes. It changed and shifted over time, normal crystal formations replaced by facsimiles of countless different plants. Then, with a flash, all I see is a deluge of filth. Oil, grease, and metallic debris.

    Through the debris steps someone I¡¯ve known all my life. Me. And the soundless world, denoted only by mild sensations and primitive understanding, starts to unravel. Time zips by, and the pictures become far clearer. I see everything that happened on the krarig, but from Fleur¡¯s perspective.

    I feel her fear.

    I taste her despair.

    And now, I see myself reflected in the eyes of a figure of molten black salt. Where Pearl looks sticky and cosmic, Fleur is glassy and clean. Lines of orange-y light shoot through her entire body, like a nervous system of her own, but far more artistic. The light swirls and flourishes without a care for function.

    It brightens when she locks eyes with me. Her many arms¨Cnow floating close to her body as if suspended with magnetism¨Call shake with utter joy. The serpentine tail is still there, too, stretching out a little longer than I remember and with far more defined ¡®scales¡¯ outlined in orange light. She searches my eyes for something.

    I don¡¯t know what it is. But she seems to find it, anyway.

    ¡°Hey again.¡± I say with a smile. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you in a few weeks. Did you do something with your hair?¡±

    Fleur¡¯s light brightens considerably, and the two arms connected to her body press to her hips. Or, to be more specific, where her body melts into her tail.

    ¡°Connecting with¡­ you know who¡­ had a very positive effect on my body¡¯s composition. I no longer have a core I need to protect, as my entire being is now both core and body.¡± Two of Fleur¡¯s floating arms turn and motion at the mech. ¡°Can I be the one to deal with this? I wish to test how much of my strength I have retained, even without salt to fuel my abilities.¡±

    ¡°You heard the conversation I had with Noland?¡±

    Fleur nods.

    ¡°Then I don¡¯t have a problem with it. I¡¯ll be right here just in case you didn¡¯t keep as much strength as you were hoping.¡±

    One of Fleur¡¯s arms gives me a thumbs¨Cup, and as I walk past her, she turns and slithers a half-step behind me. I almost pipe up to say something, but something in her posture tells me that she¡¯s exactly where she wants to be.

    ¡°She¡¯s a little smaller than before, but that can easily be changed.¡± Pearl leans in as if she¡¯s going to whisper something. ¡°We made her body a lot more like mine, but without sacrificing anything that made her ¡®her¡¯. Since she¡¯s all core now, she can get bigger or smaller depending on how much salt she has.¡±

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    I raise an eyebrow and glance at Fleur. ¡°Can you get as big as Illumisia?¡±

    Fleur slightly shakes her head. ¡°I can only grow slightly larger than this. There is a sort of mental limit in place that I do not wish to break through. Does that displease you?¡±

    ¡°Does it¡­¡± I shake my head and laugh. ¡°Fleur, I don¡¯t give a shit how big you are. That¡¯s already kind of Illumisia¡¯s schtick, anyway. Just be you, with all the beautiful destructive shit you can do.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the compliment. I plan on being as destructive and as beautiful as possible for you.¡± Fleur laces the fingers together on her two connected arms, magic beginning to radiate from her like a blazing furnace. ¡°I already know I am weaker than before. But that environment was tailor-made to artificially strengthen me beyond reason. From now on, any strength I gain will be permanent. And it will be for you, my god.¡±

    That¡­ kind of gives me the ick. ¡°Please don¡¯t call me that. It feels a little too¡­ real, now that you¡¯re out here with me. Keep calling me Shelby, please.¡±

    ¡°Then it shall be done, my god.¡± Fleur says, and her light flares impishly. Not sure how I know that, but I do. ¡°Oh, please excuse me¨CI meant to say Shelby. This should be close enough; are there any lifesigns in the limbs?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°No idea. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a risk of anyone being in there, but just in case, try ripping them off instead of slicing. There¡¯s a way lower chance of unintended casualties that way.¡±

    ¡°I understand. Now please stand back, and do not interfere unless I seem to be proving inadequate.¡± Fleur steps past me, positioning herself between me and the mech. ¡°If I collapse due to magical exhaustion during this attempt, please gather my body and keep it safe. I am assured it will stay in one piece.¡±

    Fleur¡¯s myriad floating arms twitch as one. They weave intricate shapes with their fingers, salt crystals dancing on their fingertips like blackened snowflakes. With every motion the crystals grow a little larger, and with every pause, they glimmer with increasing magical power. It only takes a few moments for Fleur to make two human-sized crystal flowers to either side of her.

    She raises one connected arm and gently pushes a hand towards the mech. Two petals from the salt flower on her right rip free in a violent spray of crystals to swirl around her hand. Another small motion sends them careening towards the mech, leaving an extremely thin vine of salt in the air behind it.

    The mech, silent and motionless for the last few minutes, suddenly raises its arms. Sickly green flashes between them, and a dome of coloured light pops into being. I half expect whoever was on the comms before to open them and taunt us with their ¡®impenetrable¡¯ shield, but the silence stretches on as Fleur¡¯s two transformed petals brush against the shield.

    Like a massively fast-forwarded time lapse of ivy growing, the masses of salt explode into countless vines that snake up the shield without even trying to break it. The mech panics and waves just its arms¨Ctrying to brush off the salt, but thwarted by its own preventative measures. Fleur lowers her arm and watches proudly as the vines sprout tiny thorns, just enough to dig into the shield and take root, as they completely overtake the mech¡¯s attempt at defense.

    ¡°They misjudged my attack.¡± She states matter-of-factly. ¡°Now, as long as they must drop their shield to attack, they will be ensnared. And all it took was two petals¨Ca very good showing, if I do say so myself.¡±

    Pearl nods vigorously in agreement. ¡°No huge structures, no extreme waste of magical power, and no pointlessly flashy presentation. Just like we practiced.¡±

    I can¡¯t help but stare at the intricate and jaw-droppingly gorgeous salt flowers. But hey, if Pearl says they¡¯re not pointless or a waste, then I guess I just have to believe her. Just means I get to look at them more often.

    As Fleur¡¯s vines dig in deeper, the mech makes more and more unnecessary movements. It¡¯s obvious that whoever¡¯s in the pilot seat right now is panicking. That¡¯s perfect for us¨Cmeans they¡¯re one step away from running away like cowards. Noland made their metaphorical coffin, so now all we have to do is hammer in the very last nail.

    ¡°Can you break the shield, Fleur?¡±

    ¡°I can. Would you like me to do so?¡±

    I nod. ¡°That I would. And when you start ripping off limbs, go for the arms first.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Shelby.¡± Fleur says. ¡°Does it matter which arm is the first to go?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Rip away.¡±

    With a flare of light, Fleur does exactly that. Her vines flicker with a core of molten orange and tighten all at once, squeezing the sickly barrier like an overripe grape. It squishes and contorts for a split second before popping in a spray of magical light that rains down on the landscape around it like pebbles thrown by a dust devil.

    The mech wildly flails its arms. Fleur¡¯s vines close in around both of them at the same time like merciless snakes, choking the movement out of the thing as a sickly green liquid drips out from underneath. She must¡¯ve hit a hydraulic cable¨Cor the magical equivalent of that.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Another different voice, this one distinctively feminine, emerges from the mech. ¡°You don¡¯t know how valuable this piece of machinery is! I¡¯ll have your grandchildren paying back triple for whatever you break today!¡±

    I knit my eyebrows together and turn to Fleur. ¡°Did she just threaten me with having to pay damages?¡±

    ¡°It would seem so, yes.¡±

    ¡°Does¡­ does she understand what¡¯s going on right now?¡±

    ¡°That is far less clear. Or perhaps it is an extremely clever attempt to shock us into the pitfalls of conversation instead of finishing what we started.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Good point.¡± I nod at the mech. ¡°Rip its arms off.¡±

    ¡°No, wait, please! Think of the scientific¨C¡±

    Pearl snarls as Fleur¡¯s vines sink in. She laughs triumphantly as green liquid sprays from freshly orphaned joints, two arms ripped away from the main body wrapped in vines hovering just inches from where they once fit perfectly.

    ¡°Serves them right for screwing with our tech!¡± She puffs out her chest and steps up on something invisible. ¡°Do the legs next! Make it so they can¡¯t run, no matter how hard they try! They¡¯ll pay for creating such a crappy forgery!¡±

    I shoot her a stern glance. Pearl stops, blushes, and steps down from whatever was she was standing on.

    ¡°Um, I mean, good job Fleur.¡±

    Before I can say anything, the sky cracks. Sickly green light pours through the tear in the sky like a broken, magical faucet as huge mechanical fingers poke through into reality. Fleur tenses and rips two more petals from her salt flower, but I hold out a hand to stop her. Depending on if it¡¯s reinforcements or an extraction crew behind those cracks, our response needs to be drastically different.

 Chapter 119: Run From Me

    Fleur slithers forward. I gently grab the tip of her tail to stop her. She shoots me a look that shines with reluctance, but relents without a word to the contrary.

    ¡°Remember; we want them to run.¡± I whisper into the side of her head as I walk by. ¡°If we can manage to get all of them out of the mech before that happens, then that¡¯s the only other scenario we want. Can you help me with that?¡±

    Orange light flares. ¡°Of course I can. If I can sense where their life signs are, I could remove all of them from the mech. But that part of my abilities does not seem to have carried over.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you do it last time?¡±

    ¡°Sweat. And the simple fact that I was in such a salt dense environment that it would be harder not to sense everything that was going on.¡± Fleur lowers her hand, and the two plucked petals return to the flower. ¡°There is a sort of shield inside of the mech preventing me from sensing the occupants. Even if I could, the armored ones are all shielded as well.¡±

    I nod and stride forward confidently, even though I definitely don¡¯t think the mech they¡¯re sending for reinforcements will be as useless as this one. Keeping an eye on the intrusion while I watch the first mech for any signs of magic isn¡¯t overly difficult, but the fact that I can¡¯t sense anything at all really bothers me. Did Ernest¡¯s mech just¡­ give up?

    ¡°Watch out for a sneak attack.¡± I warn as the sky shatters into sickly green pieces, leaving a seeping wound that gushes magic like an overflow pipe after a typhoon. ¡°If things go horribly wrong, we go back for Noland. Oh, and before I forget¨Chere.¡±

    I reach for Fleur¡¯s hand and place a relocation coin in it. She glances down at it, brightens visibly, and lets out a happy note. It accepts her as the target instantly, and when she hands it back, it feels¡­ a little different. Like how my shields and projectiles feel now. Somehow, she¡¯s changing how my spells work. But it only looks like it''s for the better.

    ¡°To feel your magic so closely¡­ it is like a warm, loving embrace.¡± Fleur sighs, trailing her fingers down my palm as she returns the coin. ¡°Thank you once more, Shelby. I cannot wait to spend the rest of eternity at your side.¡±

    A weird choice of words there. But there¡¯s no time to process her strange, almost loving devotion; the mech inside of the crack is finally moving from its imposing perch. It crouches down and tucks its arms in close, like it¡¯s trying to jump as high as it can, and turns its head to lock on to the other mech.

    Pearl makes an annoyed noise. ¡°You never move the head. It¡¯s there to take people off guard, not signal where your attacks are going to go. That''s... like¡­ rule number one of mech combat. How can¡¯t they know that?¡±

    I shrug, but honestly, this time I agree with her. The other mech hasn¡¯t moved its head once, like the extra piece of metal that it is, but this one¡¯s overly telegraphing what it¡¯s going to do. Almost like it wants us to see.

    ¡°Shit.¡± I hiss and toss down three shields. They smack to the wet ground and stick fast, brimming with potential ready to burst at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°It¡¯s gotta be a diversion, and the oldest one in the book; look one way and move another. Fleur, start running back to Noland. Depending on how far it can jump, you might have to cut it off before it can do whatever it¡¯s going to do.¡±

    She glows with understanding, and with terrifying speed, slithers in Noland¡¯s direction. It barely takes ten heartbeats for her to get out of my awareness¡¯ range, and that¡¯s a heavily nerfed version of how fast she could move before. I wonder if she¡¯ll ever get back to being that strong.

    Roaring ignitions burst loud enough to wash over me in a wave of horrible sound as green flames ignite on the backs of the second mech¡¯s legs. The entire thing seems to tremble and shake under its own power as the flames grow and panels suddenly open on the sides of the thing¡¯s arms. Pulsing magic throbs deep inside the mech¡¯s frame, but I can¡¯t get an idea of what the hell it''s supposed to be for from all the way down here.

    I dig my heels in, roll my projectiles through my knuckles, and start counting contingency plans. The mech burns hotter and brighter, distorting the air around it in a haze of sickly heat, but it still doesn¡¯t move. Sweat starts to trickle down my forehead from the anticipation. My chest burns with a breath I¡¯ve been holding for nearly a minute now.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, move, you useless hunk of junk.¡± Pearl mutters with annoyance. ¡°You¡¯re going to blow every circuit and overheat every single processor if you keep doing stupid crap like this. Shelby¡­ I think they¡¯re trying to intimidate you.¡±

    ¡°...No way.¡± I narrow my eyes at the mech and furrow my brow. ¡°There¡¯s absolutely no way. Why would they risk another mech just to try and intimidate me? That¡¯s gotta be the stupidest shit I¡¯ve ever¨Cwait. What the hell are those things?¡±

    Small figures along with some armored in the Preservation¡¯s colours. Flying through the air on a simple metal platform that looks like a flying hot-tub with rocket boosters. Even if my eyesight wasn¡¯t as good as it is, I know I¡¯d be able to pinpoint the two figures that¡¯re beyond obvious in the group.

    Shout and Zeze. Standing on the edge of the platform, staring directly at me, but far enough that they wouldn¡¯t be able to yell anything if they wanted to. I lower my guard and watch in disbelief as the rescue platform ascends to the hole in the sky, raises them up to the second mech¡¯s chest, and connects with it. Then the hatch opens, and they all simply¡­ walk inside.

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    ¡°There¡¯s no goddamn way.¡± I whisper as the second mech raises both of its hands, aiming them directly at the now empty first mech. More panels burst open on its arms, and its palms open like camera shutters to reveal crackling green barrels. ¡°They¡¯re going to destroy it. Shit, they¡¯re going to destroy it!¡±

    I break into a sprint as a keening whine finally hits my ears. A sound I can only describe as the equivalent of an anime character powering up, but in real life, joins a moment later when the glowing barrels in the mech¡¯s hands brighten enough to obscure the rest of the mech. The abandoned mech isn¡¯t too far. But I don¡¯t know how fast the attack moves. Hell, I don¡¯t even know if it¡¯s still aimed at the abandoned mech.

    ¡°If I can save this thing¡­¡± I trail off as the air fills with magic. ¡°The mech¡¯s putting literally everything into this attack.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is. No matter how many parts it has to sacrifice to do it.¡± Pearl says grimly. ¡°You don¡¯t have to save it, Shelby. Even if you reverse engineer it, we¡¯ll just find the blueprints for a real one eventually. One that¡¯s a million times stronger, more efficient, and built with materials that can withstand its own darn magic. Plus¡­¡±

    Pearl laughs sheepishly. ¡°I kind of want to watch it get destroyed. Can we watch it blow up?¡±

    I stop in my tracks and let my hands fall at my sides. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s.¡±

    Seconds tick by. The mech¡¯s warmup dyes the world a shade of sickly green, but no matter how much magic it dumps into the world¡­ it just doesn¡¯t feel that threatening. Even though it¡¯s the exact same thing as I saw the day I joined the resort. I guess seeing the krarig, Fleur at her pinnacle, Ursula nuking a storm, and Noland dismantling the krarig has raised my standards a little. Makes me wonder why Noland and Ursula were worried about the mech back then, though, if they¡¯re all this¡­ manageable.

    The air goes dry. Every colour in existence fades away, leaving only shades of sickly green. I throw down three more shields just in case I judged things wrong, and cross my arms as the mech lets loose.

    Beams of writhing magical energy thunder out of the second mech¡¯s hands, tearing screaming ruts through the sky as they barrel towards the abandoned mech. They¡¯re fast. Unbelievably so. But I can seamlessly follow the start of the beam all the way from the firing mech, through the air, and as they rip through the abandoned mech. It doesn¡¯t stand a chance, and within a few heartbeats, the abandoned mech glows so brightly with sickly magic that it¡¯s almost impossible to look at.

    Then, as quickly as it came, the beams shut off. The abandoned mech melts into a slurry that once was a complex machine, and the mech in the portal lowers its scorched hands and overheating arms to its sides. Whether it¡¯s because it''s done or because they no longer have control over the arms¡­ well, I¡¯d give it fifty-fifty odds.

    I sneer at the destroyed mech as the portal above starts to close. ¡°Mission complete. Dumbasses probably think they pulled a one-over on us, too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. By destroying their own valuable piece of technology.¡± Pearl giggles as the portal shuts closed, safely sealing the Preservation away. ¡°Valuable to them, I mean. It wouldn¡¯t even be passable as a hobbyist¡¯s project among my people. Next time we come back from the other world, do you think we¡¯ll be able to show them a real mech?¡±

    ¡°No idea. All depends on what leads Clutter and Nib were able to find for me.¡± I turn my back on the mech and start the short walk back. ¡°Illumisia, too, I guess. Since she should know where all your cities and armories were.¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°There¡¯s no way the system would leave them intact¨Cor at least accessible. I bet we¡¯ll need quests or some powerful magic to find any real traces of my people.¡±

    ¡°And how are we supposed to do that when the system controls everything?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe we should look for old, ongoing quests? The kind of thing that the system started long before it thought I¡¯d actually get free¨Cthose might have some hints.¡± Pearl suggests, but she doesn¡¯t sound confident. ¡°Honestly, I think we¡¯re going to have to rely on magic that the system doesn¡¯t think can be used to help us. Um, I¡¯m not sure what kind of magic or relics that could be, though, sorry.¡±

    Eh. I¡¯ll think of something. For right now, though, we¡¯ve got other problems. Especially if Shout¡¯s hypnosis didn¡¯t wear off when he left. That¡¯s not time sensitive, though, so I walk at a leisurely stroll through the battered grounds as I make my way there, chatting with Pearl all the while.

    When I finally catch a glimpse of Fleur standing at Noland¡¯s side, the crowd¡¯s vibe seems like it¡¯s worsened considerably. Words and fists fly in equal amounts, and no matter how rich or powerful these people are, right now they¡¯re just scared, panicky animals. Fleur waves to me with a detached arm without turning her head, and Noland nods at me as I step into his field of view.

    ¡°Things went to shit, huh?¡± I note as I put myself between the two. ¡°Is it natural shit, or is Shout still controlling them?¡±

    Noland shrugs. ¡°Couldn¡¯t tell you if I wanted to. All I can say is if I was Shout and or Gasp, I¡¯d put a failsafe in place that incites feelings of panic and aggression if my magic died out before I cancelled it. I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s what¡¯s happening right now, but it¡¯s as good an explanation as any for the moment.¡±

    ¡°They are sweating quite profusely, the lot of them.¡± Fleur motions at Gisela¡¯s group of friends, who¡¯re basically in a fist fight with some other random people. ¡°In my opinion, that amount would not come from exertion alone. There must be a great amount of fear and adrenaline bolstering their actions.¡±

    I sweep over the group with my eyes, and much to my surprise, find absolutely no stragglers. Or people hurt so badly that they can¡¯t stand on their own two feet. In a brawl like this, I¡¯d say that¡¯s an impossibility. Then, just as I finish the scan, I catch a glimpse of a trio that could explain just a little too much.

    Ava. Gasp. And, surprisingly, Gisela¨Call just on the outskirts, acting like they¡¯re a part of the fight, but the stains on their clothes look superficial. Like someone rubbed blood into them and threw themselves onto the ground. The three of them seem like they¡¯re whispering to one another, too, so it isn¡¯t just coincidence. I glance just past them, to where Ava¡¯s eyes dart every few seconds, and suddenly everything makes sense.

    Including why Noland and Fleur are sitting by and watching, without anyone even trying to attack them. Because the group of three are quickly backing towards the concert venue. And the entire rest of the brawling party is, somehow, walking with them.

 Chapter 120: An Announcement For the Future

    I share an uncertain look with Fleur and Noland. They don¡¯t return it.

    ¡°What the hell did I miss?¡±

    Noland gestures broadly at the group. ¡°All of that. It looks like Gasp took control of them again, and Gisela¡¯s doing whatever she¡¯s about to do with that information. Along with Ava, for some reason. They hit it off right away.¡±

    ¡°The air is heavy with salt.¡± Fleur adds. ¡°I am not sure if they wish to take advantage of the state the guests find themselves in or if they wish to ¡®save¡¯ them. Personally, I think the first option is far more likely.¡±

    ¡°So do I.¡± Noland agrees. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving and see what happens. We are still Gisela¡¯s bodyguards for now, after all. But depending on what she tries to do here¡­ well, we¡¯ve got a written agreement. I¡¯m not over ripping up a few pieces of paper and breaking some promises.¡±

    I shudder at the calmly brutal undertones in his voice as we all start walking with the group. It only takes a second to catch up, and when we do, nobody even turns to look at us. They¡¯re all hyper fixated on Gisela, Ava, and Gasp.

    One of them brushes against my shoulder¨Can old woman in a pencil skirt and a suit jacket¨Cand makes a noise deep in her throat that sounds like disdain. I sneer and hold back the desire to break a few of her fingers, but after she makes the noise, she goes right back to ignoring me. That¡¯s gotta be important. And it requires some additional testing.

    I lean over and smack a bald guy on the back of his head. He grunts in pain, but beyond that, nothing. So I smack him a little harder¨Cjust enough that his neck bends forward and his chin almost touches his chest. That gets a yelp of surprise and a single flailing arm in my direction, complete with a look of surprise and disbelief.

    A look that lasts for all of half a second before the guy¡¯s eyes go dull and he falls once more under Gasp¡¯s magic. Alright, there¡¯s definitely something off here. These guys are one step away from beating each other into a bloody pulp¨Ceven the pulled punches are harder than what I just did¨Cbut they¡¯re not snapping out of it. If anything, they¡¯re self-sustaining the magic.

    But one positive does not a study make. So I go around, dodging stray fists and slinking around whipping shoulders while backstepping to avoid wide kicks with a mediocre amount of power behind them. As I dodge through the crowd, I barely touch each and every one I pass by. Some react instantly¨Cjumping like they just felt a spider crawling on them or making varied noises ranging from angry to apologetic.

    Others, like the bald guy, need much more prodding to get to react. I twist arms, kick the backs of knees, flick ears, and one woman wouldn¡¯t even react when I stomped on her foot with all my might. That one was a little too much, and with a wince as she hobbled away, I made a mental note to pay her medical bills after the fact.

    When I finally make it through the first crowd, Noland grabs my shoulder to get my attention. I turn to him as he lifts an eyebrow and motions at the fresh black eye I gave to some woman in the smallest dress I¡¯ve ever seen. Which has somehow managed to not only stay on, but still covers everything she¡¯d want covered.

    ¡°I was testing a theory. No matter how hard they¡¯re hitting each other, they don¡¯t snap out of Gasp¡¯s control.¡± I jog forward as a fist swings right next to my head and smacks a short guy in the shoulder. ¡°Just like that. But when I just brushed against an old woman, she reacted like she normally would. Like she wasn¡¯t affected by Gasp at all, but also doesn¡¯t know she¡¯s in the middle of a fistfight.¡±

    Noland frowns. ¡°Does that make it alright to smack these people around?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°No idea.¡±

    ¡°No, I mean, did you get any concrete proof of this?¡± He turns and stares a hole through the back of a guy whose toupee is hanging off the back of his bald spot. ¡°Because I would absolutely love to gather a little more data for you.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not gonna stop you from smacking some billionaires and politicians in the back of the head. Hell, knowing what you know, it¡¯ll probably be some great catharsis¨CNoland?¡± I pause and turn as he rushes into the crowd with maniacal glee. A few new, heavier impacts join the chorus of violence, and I can¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Looks like he¡¯s still got some hatred bottled up inside. Good for him for not turning it into more full-blown murder.¡±

    Fleur comes up beside me, two of her floating arms hovering protectively near my shoulders. ¡°Does that mean you are going to attempt to stop him?¡±

    I snort out another laugh. ¡°Hell no. They won¡¯t notice another few bruises and welts when Gasp lets go of them. Let¡¯s just get up to the stage and see what the hell they¡¯re planning.¡±

    With Fleur at my side, I weave through the rest of the crowd and make my way to the front. It only takes a minute, but when I break free of them, Gisela and the other two are much further ahead than I thought. Ava¡¯s helping Gisela onto the stage, with Gasp already quietly standing at attention next to a microphone that doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s plugged into anything.

    All the seemingly ex-Preservation woman¡¯s energy is gone. Her posture is tight, hands held behind her back, and her visor looks out over the crowd without an inch of movement. Even though I should hate her for what she was trying to start, I can¡¯t help but feel a little pity for her. I¡¯ll reserve true judgment until I have the intel to tell me how much of the Preservation¡¯s propaganda she ate up, or how much she helped write it.

    Gisela brushes off her dress, turns on her heel, and instantly notices me and Fleur standing feet away from the stage. Her face lights up, and she offers me a wry grin as she flicks her fingers to get us to back up.

    ¡°It¡¯ll all be obvious in a minute. Can you give me that much?¡±

    I cross my arms and frown. ¡°You¡¯re asking for a lot of trust, Gisela. Especially with those two¨Cdo they even know who you actually are?¡±

    Much to my surprise, she nods. ¡°They do. Well, more accurately, they know who wasn¡¯t me a few minutes ago. Two women betrayed by their own organizations, though for Ava, it¡¯s more like¡­¡±

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    ¡°I tried to change a little. Though they were, too.¡± She shrugs, but I can see the hurt in her eyes as she chuckles wistfully. ¡°Not that I expect you to believe me¨Cyou watched me vaporize a random guy and kill Taka. Can you pass the message on to Ursula that I¡¯ve got some things I need to do before we fight?¡±

    ¡°Do it yourself.¡±

    A small, hopeful smile barely graces Ava¡¯s lips. ¡°I hope I can. Maybe we can reschedule for¡­ a long time from now.¡±

    That sounds like it¡¯s got way more history behind it than I¡¯m willing to try and unpack in a minute. But it looks like whatever Gisela said to Ava has got her squarely on her side. Question is; does the same go for Gasp?

    I turn to the masked woman and lift my chin at her. ¡°How about you? Are changes of hearts contagious now?¡±

    Gasp shakes her head as her entire body shudders. She sucks in a sharp breath and snaps both of her hands to her neck, panic and tremors wracking her body from the simple movement. It takes a few seconds for her to seem to realize that her head is, indeed, still connected to her body.

    The half-laugh, half sob of relief physically hurts to hear. ¡°I thought we were doing good. But¡­ they¡­ I saw a simple room. Something left me a note inside a ring. There was a¡­ a¡­ countdown to returning my¡­ corpse.¡±

    That sounds¡­ oh. It¡¯s what I saw when Illumisia and Pearl brought me back from the dead. The room, the note, the countdown¡­ I know it all too well. But I died cold and confused. Gasp died violently and suddenly, betrayed by the people she probably trusted the most. In terms of deaths, hers was definitely more traumatizing than mine.

    ¡°I get it.¡± I say with a small, comforting smile. ¡°It just goes to show what the Preservation is actually willing to do, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    Gasp nods. It isn¡¯t a small one, or a motion to get me to stop; it¡¯s serious and full of weight that words could never convey. If I could see her eyes, I¡¯m sure they¡¯d either be empty or full of tears. Maybe both. A stray thought makes me wonder if I¡¯d be this confident without Noland here.

    No way in hell. But I guess it goes to show how you can afford to be way more merciful when you¡¯ve got absolute power backing you. Which makes it even worse that HuSt and the Preservation are merciless.

    ¡°Alright. Do whatever you¡¯re going to do.¡± I step up to the stage as Ava jumps up onto it. ¡°Just remember that we¡¯re here.¡±

    For some reason, that seems to¡­ bring relief to Gisela. I¡¯d meant it as a cryptic warning. Is this a good sign? Sharing a look with Fleur, who shrugs countless times over, doesn¡¯t bring me to an answer. So we back away to make room for the crowd that¡¯s filling out the space before the stage like a bunch of rowdy moshers. Noand breaks away, dusting reddened hands off on his suit with a satisfied expression.

    ¡°No blood?¡± I note as he adjusts his tie. ¡°How¡¯d you manage that?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised how good it feels to slap someone you hate in the face. Multiply that by a hundred times, and you¡¯ve got one satisfied me.¡± He laughs, then nods at the stage. ¡°I didn¡¯t catch your talk with Gisela. You¡¯re letting them go on with whatever they¡¯re planning?¡±

    I nod. ¡°If I was on my own, I definitely wouldn¡¯t. But I¡¯ve got you and Fleur here to help stop them if they start spouting egregious shit¨Cmight as well give them the benefit of the doubt until it benefits us to doubt them.¡±

    ¡°Sure; whatever you say. I didn¡¯t give you this much decision making power because you¡¯re weak.¡± Noland pats me on the shoulder reassuringly. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to being important soon enough. Hell, you¡¯re taking to it much better than March did; she still doesn¡¯t really like the power she knows she holds over the world. But she knows how important her work is, so we try not to put too much Pressure on her.¡±

    ¡°Seems like it¡¯s working so far.¡±

    Noland chuckles and smiles. ¡°I¡¯d say that¡¯s an understatement. Just so you know, if you ever want out of these kinds of missions, just say the word.¡±

    ¡°Not planning on it any time soon, but thanks for the offer.¡±

    Fleur taps me on the shoulder with one connected arm and points at the stage with the other. ¡°It is beginning.¡±

    I follow her finger to the stage, where Gisela stands at the microphone with Gasp and Ava to either side of her like bodyguards. A shiver runs down my spine at the visual, and I get the feeling that something big is about to happen. My eyes meet Gisela¡¯s for a second, and all she does is smile the same way as before.

    ¡°Gasp, release them from the magic.¡± She says as she leans into the microphone. ¡°And put down a calming kind of effect, please. Not enough that they¡¯ll notice, but just enough that they won¡¯t start running and screaming.¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course.¡± Gasp nods, and two overlaid waves of magic wash over me. ¡°It¡¯s done.¡±

    The crowd slowly stops beating on each other, and devolves into a chorus of confused murmurs. People look down at their hands, wince at wounds they just realized that they had, and generally question what they were doing and why they were at the concert venue. I wonder what their last concrete memory was from before Gasp started manipulating them.

    Gisela taps the microphone, and a squeal of interference draws all the attention to her. She smiles pleasantly yet venomously, like a business woman looking down on a pit of potential clients and enemies. Which¡­ I guess she is. And they are.

    ¡°Most of you are probably confused about what the hell happened to you. There is one simple answer for this; the Preservation and HuSt betrayed all of you. Though, for some of you, that holds a¡­ different meaning.¡± She lazily glances down at Matt, who shrinks away like he¡¯d just been bit. But it¡¯s not just him¨Cdozens of others flinch just the same. Including one of her friends. ¡°The Preservation doesn¡¯t want to take power through force; they want it to be given to them, mandate and all, so they can rule however they please. Today, they would have succeeded. Except for one small detail.¡±

    She turns and gestures at us. More specifically, at me. And the unease in my stomach rolls into overdrive with the strange look in her eyes.

    ¡°The resort saved my life once. Now, it has saved all of our lives. Maybe not in the immediate sense, but if the Preservation had not been stopped, it would have eventually spelled all of our demises. Which is why¡­¡±

    Gisela reaches into her purse. When she pulls her hand out, two coins glitter between her fingers; Defender and Fortress. I clench my jaw and try to keep calm as everything I¡¯d imagined rearranges itself before my very eyes.

    ¡°Garza Industrial will, effective immediately, ally itself with the resort. If you wish the world to remain free, prosperous, and safe, I urge you to do the same. Because anyone who wages war without the courage to pick up a weapon and fight for their own causes¡­¡± Her expression turns deadly as she scans the crowd. ¡°Will die in this new reality. I implore all of you to adjust your worldview and accept this truth.¡±

    The defender coin glimmers in her hand. She reaches forward as a pillar erupts from the stage, curled and gnarled like an ancient tree made from iron. Noland grunts as he realizes what¡¯s going on, and before I can do anything about it, Gisela sticks the Defender coin into the pillar.

    A bright flash of light accompanies it. The pillar shifts¨Call the twists and turns straighten themselves out, and as Gisela slots in the Fortress coin, an eruption of magic and fanfare blares through all of reality.

    Truth added: Class Perfection coins.

 Chapter 121: Partys Over

    I raise my arms to shield my face from the insane magic that erupts from Gisela¡¯s position. It feels like standing directly behind a jet engine that¡¯s constantly blasting coarse, superheated sand against every part of my body. But it doesn¡¯t even leave a mark.

    ¡°What the hell is this?!¡± Noland yells over the fanfare. ¡°Shelby?! Did the coin you gave her do this?!¡±

    ¡°How the hell would I know?¡± I shout right back. ¡°We didn¡¯t do any testing on it, remember?¡±

    He pauses. ¡°I kind of forgot about that. Why didn¡¯t we do that again?¡±

    ¡°Because we couldn''t get anything at all to work.¡± I say flatly. ¡°But if this is the Fortress coin¡¯s doing, at least we know how to get it to work.¡±

    Fleur¡¯s arms hug me tightly, creating a shield over my face and upper chest. I breathe a sigh of relief and lower my own arms, then pull out my Class Card to see if the announcement came with any kind of info.

    ¡°Would it not be considered testing even if it did not produce results?¡± Fleur asks, her voice clear and normal even though the magic. ¡°Or is there another definition of ¡®testing¡¯ that I am not familiar with?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t really call it ¡®testing¡¯ if you can¡¯t get it to do anything.¡± Noland replies with a chuckle. ¡°But I wasn¡¯t a part of it, so I can¡¯t really say anything. Shelby?¡±

    I look up from my Class Card and shrug. ¡°I tried using it, tried letting Pearl use it, and that¡¯s about it. Anything else I couldn¡¯t justify for shit.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ why¡¯d you give it to Gisela, then?¡±

    I shrug again. ¡°I thought maybe it¡¯d do something with the coin it evolved from. Looks like I was right.¡±

    With that, I lower my head and swipe through my Class Card. No new entries suddenly appeared anywhere, and there isn¡¯t exactly a ¡®new rule¡¯ notification anywhere. Even though it¡¯s still partly in my vision like a logo burned into a phone screen. I swipe through everything, double check that I didn¡¯t just scroll over it, and send the thing away with a sigh.

    ¡°Looks like I didn¡¯t get credit for it. Even though I¡¯m the only reason ¡®Class Perfection coins¡¯ exist.¡± I say as I start walking forward through the magical distortion. ¡°I¡¯m going to see if Gisela¡¯s still here. Fleur, you¡¯re with me. Noland¨Cyou deal with the crowd just in case they riot. Don¡¯t be afraid to throw your weight around if need be.¡±

    He quickly salutes with a smile. ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me twice. Go give a warm welcome to our new unexpected business partners.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as he moves to leave. ¡°You¡¯re seriously considering what she said?¡±

    ¡°Definitely. I¡¯ll be good to have a public arm of the organization that we can use to push making the world a little better. Besides; the resort is really only a place. A safe haven for people to use magic in everyday scenarios. But one day¡­ the entire Earth will be a resort.¡±

    He grins, his teeth sparkling against the magic, and turns away. I watch his back until the distortion blurs him enough that I can¡¯t make him out any more. It feels like I just got a glimpse of Noland¡¯s ultimate goal for everything he¡¯s done. Or, at least, the absolute surface-level view of it.

    Fleur taps my shoulder with a curled finger. I nod and restart walking towards Gisela, feeling my feet rise slightly as if lifted by the world itself. Dozens of steps¨Cfar too many for the distance I know was between us¨Cclick and echo against the ground. Fleur¡¯s embrace grows a little tighter as the magic intensifies.

    With a flash of magic and a burst of sound, I break into a strange scene. Gisela, her hand bloodied and mangled, trying desperately to break away from the pillar that looks like it¡¯s inserted itself into her arm. She screams for help as Ava leans over her arm, magic pouring freely into the wounds just barely keeping the encroaching pillar at bay. And Gasp standing at Gisela¡¯s ear, whispers filled with magic seeping into the woman¡¯s mind.

    Coins appear between my fingers before I realize what¡¯s happening. Gisela lets out a blood curdling scream and trembles helplessly, thrashing her neck from side to side without a care for Gasp¡¯s helmet. Then her eyes meet mine. Recognition flashes in hers, but it¡¯s replaced by pain almost immediately.

    ¡°HELP ME!¡± She wails.

    Ava and Gasp¡¯s focus snaps to me. I expect to see guilt, or surprise, but in Ava¡¯s eyes I see a plea for help.

    ¡°You! Shelby, and¡­ uh¡­ Salty!¡± Ava motions with one hand for me to come closer. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do!¡±

    ¡°Do not call me salty.¡± Fleur pouts, but doesn¡¯t move.

    I frown, and without dismissing my coins, slowly walk up to Gisela. Ava lifts her head from the mangled arm so I can get a better look¨Cand god, it is not a pleasant one. Tendrils from the pillar are embedded in Gisela¡¯s skin, ripping bloody gashes halfway up her forearm and slowly rotating like burrowing worms. Root-like offshoots dig into the skin around the tendrils, pulsing under the thin flesh barrier like a blood infection.

    ¡°What the hell is this¡­¡± I trail off and gently put a hand on Gisela¡¯s arm. ¡°When did this start?¡±

    Ava swallows hard as sweat beads on her forehead. ¡°Right after the truth announcement. The pillar took her Defender coin just fine, but when she put in that other one, it did this. It looks like it¡¯s trying to¡­ I don¡¯t know! Devour her or something horrible like that?!¡±

    I find myself nodding in agreement, which gets me a stifled gasp from Gasp. No matter how I look at the wound, all I can see is the Pillar trying to either pull Gisela in or wrap itself so far up her that it can kill her. Neither are good options. I trace a tendril down her arm, into her hand, and down to the tendril alone. My fingers slide over the material like industrial concrete, all the way up to the pillar¨C

    Truth Creator: Shelby Thestalos.

    All truth about ¡®Class Perfection Coins¡¯ is as follows.

    When a Class reaches Clearance 99, the previous maximum, it can now merge with a ¡®Class Perfection Coin¡¯ to continue growing.

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    These classes are stronger versions of the base Classes, have their own skills, and cannot be gained until Clearance 99 is achieved. If gained before Clearance 99, the Perfection Coin rejects its owner and will work to reclaim itself.

    I blink and pull my hand away. Clearance 99¡­ was the max? But Illumisia was worth so much. Do I need to get that much Worth to hit the old max? And if that¡¯s true, how much Worth would clearance 100 take? Just as I¡¯m about to do a mental deep dive, I find myself staring into Ava¡¯s eyes and I¡¯m reminded of why I¡¯m here in the first place.

    ¡°Class Perfection coins only work on clearance 99 people.¡± I say and step away. ¡°It looks like what Gisela did broke that rule, so now she¡¯s being unfairly punished. Since the ¡®truth¡¯ of it didn¡¯t exist until she put the coin into the pillar.¡±

    Ava¡¯s eyes go wide. ¡°How can the system do that? It isn¡¯t fair¨CGisela didn¡¯t know what she was doing!¡±

    I snort out a bitter laugh. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re not a Worth class, that¡¯s for sure.¡± I mutter under my breath, then put a hand on Gisela¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it''s possible, but you need to reject the Fortress coin. Let the pillar take it from you without killing you. Is that possible?¡±

    Gisela stares down at me with manic desperation. She opens and closes her mouth silently, then slams her eyes shut. Magic wells up somewhere that doesn¡¯t exist inside of her, radiating outwards like a bonfire in a metal barrel. The moment it hits my awareness I know it¡¯s the Fortress coin trying to take hold. But she doesn¡¯t have the clearance required with Defender for it to actually do that.

    Her eyes shoot open and she stifles a scream. ¡°Ican¡¯tIcan¡¯tIcan¡¯t! HELP!¡±

    ¡°Shit.¡± I turn to Fleur and raise an eyebrow. ¡°Maybe¡­ can we isolate the coin inside of her and stop it from trying to take hold?¡±

    Fleur¡¯s myriad arms shrug as one. ¡°Even if I was at my strongest, I do not possess such a power. Perhaps¡­ you have something that could do it?¡±

    Me? My powerset¡¯s pretty damn limited, honestly. Just relocation, projectile, shield, and my skills. Which of them could do the trick? Maybe relocation could get the coin out of her, but I¡¯m not confident it wouldn¡¯t just go right back in and restart the suffering. Maybe if my shield could stop it, but¡­ well¡­ I mean¡­

    I frown and hold a hand to my mouth, then whisper as quietly as I can. ¡°Pearl, do you have any ideas?¡±

    She blows a raspberry. ¡°Not really. If you could put relocation on things without having to touch them, then maybe. Or¡­ um¡­ would her Class Coin count as a part of her right now, but not combined? Maybe just touching her could make the connection?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s as good an idea as any.¡± I lower my hand and press a coin to Gisela¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I need your permission for this. Defender looks like it merged with you just fine, but Fortress is fighting you all the way. Try to give me permission to relocate it.¡±

    A trickle of blood drips down the side of Gisela¡¯s mouth as she frantically nods. My coin lights up with a spell before her neck finishes bobbing, but I can¡¯t really feel what¨Cor where¨Cthe target is. I think that¡¯s a good sign, but it also means I have no idea how long or strenuous the actual relocation is going to be.

    ¡°Fleur, can your salt block intangible magic?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it can. But you should already know this, as your shields have repelled Gasp¡¯s magic.¡±

    Gasp winces at the mention of her previous employer¡¯s plan. I ignore her and wrap the relocation coin in three layers of small, thick shields. They¡¯re set to last as long as possible while also being as strong as possible, but honestly, I don¡¯t know if its going to be enough. All I can do is step away, focus on the relocation, and get ready for whatever happens.

    I turn to Ava and tilt my chin. ¡°I¡¯m about to do it. If it really hurts Gisela, you¡¯re going to have to heal her. Can you do that?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, of course I can.¡± She smiles shakily. ¡°Healing and killing are all I¡¯m good for.¡±

    Those words feel a little wrong to me, especially how she says them, but I don¡¯t have time to dig deep into Ava¡¯s past. ¡°Five. Four. Three. Two. One.¡±

    Relocation flares. My mind spins, splits, and suddenly the world is two-tone. One colourless and blurry, like a newspaper whose ink is running, and the other pure colour that¡¯s way too sharp. They¡¯re both overlaid on top of each other, and when put together, they form what I¡¯m used to seeing as reality. In the colourless blur shines a single coin in Gisela¡¯s body, tendrils reaching out to desaturate her colours in the other existence.

    My spell crosses over like a baseball crashing through a window. It grips the coin with iron strength, rips as hard as it can, and in a spurt of monochrome, exhumes it from the colourless reality. A faraway scream, undercut by a sob of relief, meets my ears as the twin realities combine once more and the Fortress coin appears inside my shell of shields.

    It looks like a parasite. Tendrils scrabbling at my shields, shedding magic like a mangy dog, and as angry as a drunk hockey fan whose team just lost. Pressure slams the side of my head every time one of its tendrils touches my shield, but it¡¯s manageable.

    I sigh in relief and look around. The nova of magic is gone. And¡­ so are Gisela and Ava. Gasp stands awkwardly a few feet away from me, and I get the sensation that she doesn''t know if she should be scared of me. I cradle the ball of shields under my arm, the coin mindlessly thrashing inside, and put on a calm expression.

    ¡°Where did they go?¡±

    Gasp swallows so loudly it makes me cringe. ¡°The other world took them. Ava was supposed to go back today apparently, so she just went with Gisela.¡±

    I frown and motion for Fleur to go talk to Noland. ¡°That¡¯s a problem. See, she just made a huge announcement like that and left us to clean up the mess. Not very partner-like if you ask me.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± Gasp says timidly. ¡°I stayed behind to help you.¡±

    My nose wrinkles in distaste. ¡°We don¡¯t want your brand of help.¡±

    She holds out her hands. ¡°N-no, I don¡¯t mean like that. I mean¡­¡± She clears her throat and straightens her back. ¡°Please give me a few minutes to gather myself. I¡¯ve¡­ had my world thoroughly shattered tonight.¡±

    ¡°Whatever.¡± I snap and wave her off as I walk away. ¡°You¡¯re coming back with us anyway. Take all the time you want.¡±

    Gasp breathes a sigh of relief. ¡°Thank you. But¡­ I¡¯m not coming back with you. Just as Gisela needs Ava, Dora needs me.¡±

    ¡°...What?¡± I turn back to her with a deepening frown. ¡°The hell do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I am a Psychic. So is Dora. She needs my guidance so she doesn¡¯t fall for the same trappings that I did.¡± Gasp puts a hand on her chest that she puffs out proudly. ¡°Just like Gisela is a defender, so she¡¯ll need Ava¡¯s help to not just become a useless shield generator.¡±

    I¡­ wait¡­ Ava¡¯s a Defender? Not, like, a Medic or a Doctor?

    ¡°Wait, wait, what the hell are you talking about?¡± I take a step forward, but a pillar of jagged green energy erupts from the ground between me and Ava, cutting me off mid-sentence. ¡°Oh, no. You¡¯re not leaving right now. When did Gisela talk to you about this? Was this the goddamn plan all along?!¡±

    Gasp shakes her head sadly as she summons her Class Card. ¡°I can¡¯t delay it any more. I¡¯m sorry¨CI really am¨Cand I hope I get the chance to properly apologize when I come back from the other world with the other three. The resort¡­ it sounds¡­ too good to be true.¡±

    Her arm descends on the pillar, card-first. ¡°WAIT!¡±

    But it¡¯s too late. My words don¡¯t even reach her as her body disappears with a single swipe of her Class Card, and I¡¯m left lunging at open air. I spit a few curses and ball my fists in frustration; I can¡¯t shake the feeling that I just got played for all I¡¯m worth, and now I¡¯m stuck holding the Class Perfection coin that¡¯s trying to kill Gisela.

    ¡°Motherf¡­¡± I trail off as Ursula¡¯s voice crackles to life in my ear.

    ¡°Shelby. Dora used her Class Coin.¡± She says flatly, her voice undercut by cold anger. ¡°Did we just get played?¡±

    I grit my teeth and turn so my eyes can meet with Noland¡¯s. ¡°It¡¯s too soon to tell. But one thing''s for sure¨Cwe¡¯re done with this damned party. Meet you back at the resort once Noland sorts all this shit out.¡±

    ¡°Roger that. See you soon, Shelby.¡±

 Chapter 122: Untrustworthy Allies

    ¡°What do you have the right do do this to us?¡±

    Matt¡¯s words are slightly slurred, and don¡¯t form a perfect sentence. It¡¯s probably because of the handprint on his cheek and the missing tooth. Noland sighs and shakes his head, already annoyed with trying to explain what happened to a group of people that don¡¯t want to listen to him.

    ¡°Yeah! We want the Preservation back!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have the influence to do this!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure none of you ever set foot in South Dakota ever again!¡±

    Complaints ring out like the echoing of hammers in a repair shop. I only make out a few of them through the din of dissatisfaction, but even if I can¡¯t hear the individuals, I can easily make out the general vibe; they¡¯re pissed that they¡¯re coming away from this with nothing. Since they came here hoping to latch onto the Preseravtion¡¯s appealing teats like the helpless sniveling brats that they are.

    ¡°All that money¡­ all that influence¡­ wasted on them.¡± I grumble without moving from my spot. ¡°Sorry that you had to be born into this world instead of the other one, Fleur.¡±

    ¡°Had I been born in another world, I would not have met you.¡± Fleur says with a glow of satisfaction as a pair of her arms massages my shoulders. I didn¡¯t ask for it, but it feels nice, so I let it happen. ¡°Though, as I see it, these people are remnants of the previous norm¡¯s thinking. Had they gained the place in the Preservation¡¯s hierarchy that they sought, it would not take a decade for their feet to be swept out from under them.¡±

    I smile at the thought, but shake my head. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised how good parasites like them are at adapting. Once it becomes utterly safe to take a Class Coin and go to the other world, they¡¯ll all be lining up to get the statistically most powerful coin and get some magic for themselves.¡±

    Fleur¡¯s orange light flickers for a second. ¡°That, or they take the same path as the Giselas did. I feel that they are still keeping many secrets from us, even now, and they have powerful mentors to assure they do not fail. Will they be our enemies when they return?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea, Fleur. Maybe¡­ maybe we shouldn¡¯t give them a chance to return.¡± I lean forward and tighten my fingers around the sphere of shields. ¡°I¡¯ve only got a little bit before the other world calls me back. Illumisia¡¯s waiting for us there, and if she agrees that they¡¯re a threat, we¡¯ll get rid of them.¡±

    ¡°I would recommend torturing their truths out of them first.¡± Fleur suggests without a hint of malice. ¡°That way, we would not have to wonder if they have additional schemes in place on this world.¡±

    ¡°Good idea.¡± Pearl chimes in eagerly. ¡°If Noland¡¯s going to effectively take over their company, we need to know if they have any dangerous moles. Do you want me to feel all their employees for magic?¡±

    Honestly, I don¡¯t know. A different kind of exertion rises from my chest and forces a long, tired breath from my lungs. It¡¯s only been a few hours, but I feel like my brain¡¯s just been forced through a strainer with everything I just learned. Listening to a bunch of privileged rich people and politicians bitch about not being rich or powerful enough isn¡¯t exactly helping, either.

    ¡°Noland, can you just¡­ deal with them?¡± I hop off the stage and land next to him, which only serves to make me the target of their questions. ¡°Ursula said they¡¯d be terrified of you. Right now, it feels like they¡¯re not scared at all. Mind fixing that?¡±

    He raises an eyebrow, then smiles. ¡°Sure thing, Shelby. I swear, as the sole survivor of the Everyday Eden massacre, I will deal with these annoyances.¡±

    The words ¡®Everyday Eden¡¯ rock through the crowd like a grenade, bringing silence and fear instead of death and ringing. Colour drains from most of the faces I can see, and more than a few of them start backing up from Noland. He puts his hands on his hips and pouts sarcastically, but he can¡¯t hide the cruel joy that radiates from his eyes.

    ¡°What, did none of you recognize me? I¡¯m not even trying to hide the family resemblance.¡± He raises a hand and waves it over his face. ¡°Has it really been that long that all of you think it¡¯s done? Do none of you remember the promise I made in blood and bone?¡±

    He takes a single step forward. Two thirds of the group step back. The ones who don¡¯t look more confused than anything¨Cas if the words ¡®Everyday Eden¡¯ kind of mean something to them, but not in the personal way that it affects the others.

    ¡°Oh, I get it¨Csome of you weren¡¯t on the list when I did the broadcast.¡± Noland laughs and shakes his head. ¡°How embarrassing for me¨CI thought all of you would warn the next generation of wealth and power when they came up! But you just tried to forget me, didn¡¯t you? Pretend that the scary man from the video doesn¡¯t actually exist, and that you can keep doing heinous shit without worry?¡±

    Puddles of gold appear under six sets of feet. Matt, one of Gisela¡¯s friends, and four others that I don¡¯t recognize. They all scream, nearly in unison. Golden spikes as wide as tree trunks silence the screams instantly, tearing the unlucky six into bloody pulp that rains down on the crowd in an instant. Solidifying the fear of Noland in everyone.

    He spreads his hands and grins as blood rains down on them, a golden sheen protecting his clothes. ¡°Remember, you stupid greedy bastards! Eden is only one step away, and I won¡¯t hesitate sending you there earlier than everyone else! Oh, and as a little parting reminder¡­ none of your houses are safe any more. Better get home quick, before the apocalypse takes your families like you¡¯ve destroyed the families of so many.¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    Screams of terror and scrabbling footsteps accompany a mass exodus of the party guests. Noland nods to himself and smirks in satisfaction as they run, watching until the very last guest disappears from the concert venue. Then he looks back at me, snaps his fingers, and dispels the golden spike trees.

    Six very much alive bodies thump to the floor. All of them are absolutely rocked and terrified¨Cas if they don¡¯t understand that they¡¯re still alive. Noland looks down on them like they¡¯re the scum of the Earth, and honestly, I kind of agree with him. He walks up to Matt and slaps him¨Chard¨Cto get his attention.

    Woozily, Matt looks up at Noland. And screams in utter terror.

    ¡°Hey, none of that¨Cnot until we¡¯re gone. Then you can scream and piss yourself as much as you want.¡± Noland¡¯s expression turns deadly serious as he lifts Matt¡¯s chin to force him to stare into his eyes. ¡°All of you have forgotten what you¡¯re dealing with. I know what all of you do to keep your power¨Cand it sickens me. Do you remember what I did to the last group of rich, influential people that sickened me?¡±

    Matt nods vigorously. Noland leans in so close that his forehead touches Matt¡¯s.

    ¡°Tell me.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ you¡­ slaughtered them.¡± Matt swallows hard, tears in the corners of his eyes.

    ¡°And? What repercussions did I suffer for that?¡±

    Matt tries to move away. Noland doesn¡¯t let him.

    ¡°I asked you a question, Matt. It¡¯s polite to answer your betters.¡±

    ¡°Nobody did anything about it.¡±

    ¡°And why is that?¡±

    ¡°Because¡­¡± Matt swallows hard again, the tears now readily flowing. ¡°Nobody could do anything to you.¡±

    Noland smiles cruelly and smacks Matt¡¯s cheek twice. ¡°Good man. Maybe you should try remembering that the next time you try and choke the world¡¯s access to magic. Just remember how well it went for Taka¨Cand know that I¡¯m infinitely stronger than Ava.¡±

    After one last tearful whimper, Noland lets Matt go and wipes his hands off on his jacket. He sighs in annoyance, as if dirtying his suit was the worst thing that had happened to him tonight, and turns to me.

    ¡°I¡¯m done here. They¡¯ll spread the word, and it¡¯ll keep activity down for at least a little bit. But if it doesn¡¯t¡­ well, I¡¯m not against keeping my promises.¡± He chuckles and flicks his wrist, summoning a portal with a familiar beachside view. ¡°This probably isn¡¯t how Gisela wanted things to go, but then she shouldn''t have run away in the middle of her speech, now should she have?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at him as I step through the portal to the resort. ¡°Did you really have to make us look like supervillains? They¡¯re going to tell everyone we¡¯re the real problem, not the Preservation or HuSt. Hell, you might¡¯ve just given the two organizations a little more power than they had before.¡±

    Noland shrugs as he pulls off his jacket and holds it over his shoulder. Once Fleur steps through the portal, he shifts the scenery seen through it to the inside of a limousine. Ursula clicks her tongue and points finger guns at me as she gets up, then finally, the portal dissolves behind her. Putting a definite end to the party.

    ¡°The name ¡®Everyday Eden¡¯ should scare them into not spreading anything. Or, at least, making it look like they¡¯re not the ones spreading it.¡± Noland says as the sand crunches under his feet and the late-night beachgoers look at us with mild surprise. ¡°And hey, if I¡¯m wrong, it just means I have to go clean out a few scum-ridden organizations. I haven''t had to do that for a while, but it doesn''t mean I''m not looking forward to it a little.¡±

    Ursula raises an eyebrow, both at Noland and Fleur. But from how she locks eyes with Noland, it looks like she¡¯s dealing with him first. ¡°So you pulled the ¡®EE¡¯ card on the party? How¡¯d they react?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°Not as terrified as I would¡¯ve liked. When March gets back, tell her to do some research to find the scummiest company that¡¯s operating right now. I¡¯ll do a little hostile takeover when I get the time.¡±

    ¡°Hit me up when you¡¯re doing it¨CI need to make a public appearance so they don¡¯t forget about me.¡± Ursula pats herself on the chest and grins. ¡°HuSt could use a little reminder that their own mistakes are out here waiting to murder them.¡±

    ¡°Oh, speaking of HuSt, Ava wants to delay your fight. Whatever that means.¡± I cock my head to the side and look at Ursula out of the corner of my eye. ¡°I never bothered asking¨Cdo the two of you hate each other?¡±

    ¡°Eeehhh¡­. Not really. Ava was violent, sure, but she never went for people that weren¡¯t on the battlefield. She just¡­ reciprocated what our enemies did.¡± Ursula sighs and crosses her arms. ¡°A lot of medics and prisoners of war died because of that. But I couldn¡¯t bring myself to kill Ava when I was strong enough. Seeing the people around her being so much worse kind of made me think ¡®oh shit, you¡¯re just brainwashed to hell and back¡¯, you know?¡±

    No, I didn¡¯t know. But I also didn¡¯t really have an argument, since Ava kind of did a face-turn in the few hours I knew her. If Ursula knows she¡¯s strong enough to kill Ava at any point, then I¡¯ll just trust her to do exactly that if Ava steps out of line.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s enough for one day.¡± Noland claps one hand, but the noise is just as loud as if he¡¯d clapped with both. ¡°Let¡¯s get a good night¡¯s sleep, then tomorrow we can debrief and decide what we¡¯re going to do from now on. Fleur, do you want to get set up on the platform? You should be able to get much stronger if you connect to the krarig hearts and make yourself a little slice of Eden.¡±

    Fleur thinks for a second, then glances over at me. I give her an encouraging nod. She returns a happy glow.

    ¡°I think I shall, so I will take my leave.¡± She bows to me slightly. ¡°When you get the chance, Shelby, I would love to speak with you privately on the platform. There is something I wish to try in the hopes of being able to shift worlds with you, at least partially.¡±

    Her hands pull away, and she slithers off towards the water. I¡¯ve honestly been wondering the same thing; but if she isn¡¯t an item, the only thing I can think of is relocating her across space and time. It might not even work, but if she¡¯s got a better idea, then I¡¯m all ears.

    ¡°Weird how she turned black all of a sudden.¡± Ursula says, then scrunches up her nose. ¡°Wait, that sounds horrible. Let me rephrase that.¡±

    ¡°Nope, too late.¡± Noland laughs and pats her on the back. ¡°We¡¯ll remember that for all eternity. Or at least for a few days.¡±

    Ursula sighs and shakes her head. ¡°Damn me for not thinking before I speak.¡±

    I fall silent as the two of them banter like old friends. The events of the night might be old news already to them, since they¡¯ve seen so much, but it¡¯s a little too fresh in my mind to be passed over so easily. Can we actually trust Ava and Gasp? Are they actually working with Gisela and Dora? What does it mean that Garza Industrial is working with the resort?

    As my footsteps crunch against loose sand on the boardwalk, I slowly realize that only time holds the answers I¡¯m looking for. And the quickest way to those answers is to get to the other world as fast as humanly possible.

 Chapter 123: Travel Plans for Two, Maybe Three

    The night comes and goes. So does the morning. We debrief Ursula through the entirety of the night, which only takes about an hour, and then we¡¯re done. Ursula and Noland are three days from going back to the other world, I¡¯m about a week away, and I¡¯ve got a pretty¡­ big chunk of stuff I still need to do before I go back. Number one of which is to make a list of things I need to double-check before the other world calls me back.

    And, of course, if all I¡¯m doing is making a list then I can do it from a lounge chair on the beach while I sip on a half dozen margaritas. So I do exactly that. Bake under the midday sun, put all the shit that happened yesterday out of my mind for a few hours, and try to ignore the Fortress coin in my pocket that¡¯s trying to break through some shields Noland put up to stop it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget that thing. What was it again¡­¡± Pearl points at my notepad and frowns. ¡°The thing you wanted to ask Ursula and Noland a while ago. Wasn¡¯t there something you wanted to ask about your body stat?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow behind my sunglasses and tap one of my headphones to make it look like I¡¯m taking a call. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really¡­ OH! That¡¯s right!¡± Pearl¡¯s eyes light up and she claps her hands. ¡°It¡¯a about how Worth classes only get potential from stat points, not the actual gains. You wanted to ask them how your body can do that without turning into a muscle-bound freak.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. That. Honestly, it kind of slipped my mind.¡± I chuckle to myself and quickly scratch down what Pearl said. ¡°Good call. I have their contacts, so I could ask them when I got back to the other world, but it''s better to get that done now. Should probably do that before anything else, actually, just in case Ursula¡¯s calculations were a little off.¡±

    The lounge chair next to me creaks as someone sits down. I glance over for a split second, and Ursula¡¯s staring at me.

    ¡°Why do you care if my calculations were off?¡± She asks, then takes a long sip of something that looks like lemonade. ¡°There something we have to do before Noland and I go back?¡±

    I narrow my eyes at her. ¡°Did I tell you where I was going to be today?¡±

    Ursula shakes her head. ¡°Nope. Just felt like going to the beach for a little bit of relaxation before going back to the other world for who knows how long. Depending on how our searches go, the three of us might be there for over a year this time.¡±

    She takes another sip, frowns down at the straw, and pulls it out of the glass. Then she tips it up, drains the entire thing, and lets out a sigh of frosty relief as she puts the straw in the empty glass.

    ¡°You were thirsty.¡±

    A snort of a laugh slips out of her lips. ¡°You don¡¯t know the half of it, sister. Yesterday was¡­ not great. We weren¡¯t completely ready to jump into the race for Earth¡¯s magic, but Gisela forced our hand. And sure, I know it was the strategically sound thing to do to let Ernest get away, but it leaves a horrible taste in my mouth to know he¡¯s still out there.¡±

    ¡°Plus, we didn¡¯t get the extra bonus from Gisela for killing him.¡± I add humorlessly. ¡°That would¡¯ve been something nice to end the night with.¡±

    Ursula nods in agreement and pulls the straw out of a glass that got refilled when I wasn¡¯t looking. She takes a much smaller sip this time, licks her lips, and sighs contentedly as she stares out over the water. Fleur¡¯s platform looms in the distance, black salt structures already sort of visible even from this far out.

    ¡°When you did the coin thing back at the meeting¡­ you said you wanted the outcome to be ¡®best for the resort¡¯.¡± Ursula swirls ice around her glass without taking a sip. ¡°Somehow, is this outcome what¡¯s actually best for us? Or is it the best for our organization, not the people in it?¡±

    Honestly, that¡¯s a question I¡¯ve been asking myself for a few hours now. I haven¡¯t been able to come up with any answers, though, so all I can do is shrug and offer a comparison.

    ¡°When I was on the krarig, I used the skill and said ¡®best for me¡¯. Somehow, that turned into accidentally pulling the krarig to our waters and almost killing Fleur. The scariest thing to think of is that what happened was the best outcome; that anything else would¡¯ve been so much worse.¡± I stare down at my drink and the salt on the rim. The only place it¡¯s missing is where my lips have touched. ¡°I¡¯m terrified that I did something shitty to us completely by accident. But it¡¯s even worse to think about what might¡¯ve happened if I didn¡¯t use my skill.¡±

    Ursula nods sagely, her glass now half empty. ¡°I get it, I really do. But you obviously don¡¯t have any new info to share, so let¡¯s move onto something a little more pleasant; whatever you were talking to your earpiece about before I sat down.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right, yeah.¡± I nod as Pearl cutely pouts at being called an ¡®earpiece¡¯. ¡°I was wondering why you and the other Worth classes don¡¯t look like muscle bound freaks.¡±

    She coughs mid-sip and raises a hand to catch the liquid trickling from her lips and nose. ¡°I¡­ you¡­ lord, Shelby, you could¡¯ve phrased that a little better. Do you know how much lemon stings when it gets in your nose? Especially alcoholic lemonade?¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡± I say flatly. ¡°How do you deal with the Body limitation?¡±

    ¡°Drugs and surgery.¡± Ursula says as she wipes her face with her shirt. ¡°Lots and lots of drugs, actually. I synthesized a bunch of crap through trial and error that does shit to your muscles that lets them get stronger withotu actually getting any bigger. Only problem with them is that you need to work out a shit ton while they¡¯re working, or else you end up looking like a crack addicted skeleton.¡±

    I scrunch up my nose in distaste. ¡°That¡¯s it? Drugs? That¡¯s your big, problem solving answer to the system screwing us over? How long would it take, anyway, to build up enough muscle mass for one point of Body?¡±

    ¡°Two weeks of daily four hour workouts. And you¡¯ll have to be extra sure that you work out every single muscle in your body¨Cor else you end up lopsided. Which is a whole other can of worms I¡¯m not ready to open yet.¡± Ursula shudders and raises a hand to her neck. ¡°As for the surgeries; we¡¯d have to replace a bunch of connective tissue when the time came, but since you already did that, you¡¯ll be fine. Hell, for you specifcally, just working out might be fine. We don¡¯t know how your muscles will react to being trained, after all.¡±

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    ¡°The problem is that I don¡¯t have weeks to work out for one point of Body. If I hit twenty of the stat, which seems pretty damn doable, that¡¯s nearly a year of workouts to get the gains.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm. It sucks ass.¡± Ursula agrees. ¡°Luckily for you, I already suffered through the painstaking process of finding a solution to that problem. Unluckily for you, the solution is so goddamn terrible that I had to develop painkillers strong enough to knock March out so she could use it.¡±

    Pearl coos in anticipation. I just groan.

    ¡°Just tell me how much I¡¯m going to suffer.¡±

    She grins wide, reaches down, and clicks open Uncertainty. From it she pulls two clear plastic bottles of pills¨Cone marked with bright red lines, and the other cool blue. Before she hands them to me, she holds up the red bottle.

    ¡°These are the muscle stimulants. Take one when you want to work out, then eat a huge meal and go right to sleep afterwards. One pill lasts four hours, and upping the dose does nothing but put a strain on your kidneys. So don¡¯t do that.¡± She presses it into my hand, then holds up the blue bottle. ¡°Now these¨CNoland nicknamed them ¡®punishment pills¡¯. They make it so everything you do puts a massive strain on your body¨Cwalking, talking, lifting weights¨Cwhatever. So when you combine the two, you can get a four-hour workout in about thirty minutes.¡±

    The blue pills find their way to my hand, and I stare down at them with more than a little reluctance. ¡°That just sounds like I¡¯m saving three and a half hours a day¨Cnot that I¡¯m going to get my stat gains any sooner.¡±

    Ursula holds up one finger, then pulls out one more bottle of green pills. ¡°These are liquid sleep in pill form. Take one and your body recovers from eight hours of fatigue in thirty minutes¨Cbut it doesn¡¯t recover your mind. If you use all three pills in unison, you can get in four days¡¯ worth of workout sessions in four hours. Buuuuut you¡¯ll be a walking husk for a while after. No pain, no gain, right?¡±

    I accept the green pills with a grimace. Truth is, I like the idea¨Cwith these things, I can get one Body¡¯s worth of progress in a little over three days. Problem is, I have to make a workout routine that¡¯s perfectly balanced and do it all in half an hour. Which, I¡¯m pretty damn sure, is impossible.

    ¡°This is going to suck ass, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Ursula offers me a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. ¡°Your body¡¯s going to feel like human pulled pork. But it¡¯s the only way you can do this quickly.¡±

    ¡°The other Classes have it good.¡± I sigh and hold each of the pill bottles up to a relocation coin. ¡°Must be nice to just hit an arrow and be able to punch harder and sprint faster.¡±

    ¡°Must be.¡± She agrees. ¡°But we¡¯re not that lucky, so we make do with what we have. I¡¯ll send you a personalized workout regime later that covers everything equally. Nothing¡¯s changed since the physical you got a few days ago, right? No unexpected pregnancies?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, right. Because I¡¯ve been sleeping around so much.¡± I roll my eyes and lean back in my chair as I scratch off the most recent addition to my list of preparations. ¡°Thanks, Ursula. I probably would¡¯ve been screwed if you and the others weren¡¯t around.¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°Us Worth classes gotta stick together. Nothing else to it.¡±

    I nod in agreement, then go in for a long sip of my drink. ¡°Nothing else to it. In, like, an hour can you huck a relocation coin at Fleur¡¯s platform for me?¡±

    ¡°Easily.¡±

    <hr>

    Relocation flares, and the beach replaces itself with a small botanical garden¡¯s worth of salt plants. Right now it¡¯s just simple flowers and trees, but I can see the start of some more complex plants sprouting from patches of black salt strewn around seemingly at random. I cover my eyes with one hand to shield them from the sun as I scan the platform for Fleur.

    I know she¡¯s here, but I can¡¯t see her for shit. ¡°Fleur! I¡¯m here!¡±

    Something taps me on the shoulder, and I whirl around to Fleur¡¯s face an inch from mine. She glows happily and pulls me into a many-armed hug, her salty form warm against my skin.

    ¡°This is nice.¡± She murmurs into my shoulder. ¡°To think that I may have to go without you for months¡­ it is not a thought that I cherish.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave you behind, either.¡± I return the hug, then try to initiate a break. Her main body movies away, but her free roaming arms stay wrapped around me. ¡°Mind¡­ you know¡­¡±

    Fleur tilts her head slightly. ¡°Yes, I mind. You will simply have to bear with it for now.¡±

    ¡­Okay, not the answer I was expecting. But it¡¯s not like they¡¯re hurting or even inconveniencing me, so I guess this is just the price of visiting Fleur¡¯s platform for now.

    ¡°How¡¯re you settling in? No issues with the hearts?¡±

    ¡°No, none at all. They are utterly inert¨Capocalyptically, not magically¨Cand I am attempting to harness their power. It is not going quite as smoothly as I had hoped.¡± She motions at the partially formed plants for emphasis. ¡°I can maintain them while I consciously focus on them, but the environment itself cannot last without my constant intervention. Unlike the krarig, where the environment and I were truly one.¡±

    I lean down and brush my fingers against a flower that looks like a salt-encrusted combination between a rose and a sunflower. The salt nearly shatters from my gentlest touch; a complete reversal from the bizarrely strong stuff we found in the krarig.

    As I dust off my hands and turn back to Fleur and nod down at the flower. ¡°Anything I can do to help?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°This is something only I can do. As I harness the magic of the krarig hearts, I will grow closer to creating a self-sustaining ecosystem. Once I have done that, I will be able to grow in strength by significant leaps.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Cool.¡± I trail off awkwardly and stick my hands in my pockets. ¡°So¡­ uh¡­ is there any reason why you can¡¯t go back into Pearl¡¯s shell and come to the other world with me that way?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Fleur focuses on Pearl¡¯s shell. ¡°I am no longer connected to Pearl¨Cmerely another living being inspired by her biology. When I left her shell, I lost the ability to ever enter it again. As I am no shellraiser: I am a Halsia. I am me. And I am truly alive.¡±

    Her glow warms significantly and with such love that I wince and look away. Even if she doesn¡¯t blame me for what happened to her, I¡¯m still the reason it happened. And until she gets this platform up and running, I¡¯m the reason she¡¯s so much weaker than before. All potentially because my skill thought this was the best outcome for me

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got a week-ish to kill before I go back to the other world and a checklist I need to complete.¡± I shoot Fleur a smile, but I know it looks forced. ¡°Even if I can¡¯t take you with me, I¡¯ll think of some way we can keep in touch.¡±

    ¡°I would like that.¡±

 Chapter 124: Countdown to Re-Entry

    Trying Ursula¡¯s meds for the first time is bound to be one hell of an experience. An experience that I definitely want to have before I go back to the other world and risk the system throwing more curveballs at me. After a good night¡¯s sleep, catching up on the info Call sent me and informing him that I¡¯ll be unavailable for a while, and booking a room where someone with a healer class is on standby, I¡¯m about as ready as I can be.

    One of each pill sits in my hand like a trio of poisons, all staring up at me with tantalizing promises of pain and progress. In my other hand I hold my Class Card, a hologram of the workout routine Ursula made for me last night pulled up and ready to follow. Surveillance cameras blink periodically to let me know I¡¯m being watched, and that if I royally screw this up, someone will be there to help.

    Doesn¡¯t really change how nervous I am, but it¡¯s always nice to have a failsafe.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Shelby¨CI¡¯m right here, too.¡± Pearl assures me with a smile. ¡°If things go the absolute worst way possible, Illumisia and I can just remake your body again! As long as you don¡¯t, like, explode or something. That would be a little too hard for us.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t been worried about exploding, but thanks to Pearl, now it¡¯s all I can think about. No matter how stupid and unlikely it is, there is the chance that I could have a horrible reaction to these thanks to my weird biology. Ursula thinks I¡¯ll be fine, but what if¡­

    No. Nope. Can¡¯t be this pessimistic for no reason. I put the green pill in my pocket and pop the other two into my mouth. The tasteless capsules slide down my throat without the need for me to swallow, which is a really uncomfortable feeling, and unless I¡¯m having a severe placebo reaction, the effects are instant.

    My muscles twitch and flex under my skin, as if they want to rip free from my body and explode into motion. But those twitches don¡¯t hurt at all, or even impede my ability to move normally. I can curl my fingers, keep myself steady, and stand perfectly fine even as my muscles look like they¡¯re in the middle of giving me a full body charlie horse.

    ¡°Seems like it¡¯s working.¡± I chuckle to myself at the understatement and walk over to the equipment ¡°Alright, so the first step is¡­ cardio. Cool. I can do that easy. Says here I need to set the incline¡­ to¡­¡±

    I swallow hard at the number printed right next to the speed and duration I¡¯m supposed to run for. Sixty degree incline. Forty miles per hour. Five minutes. That seems¡­ impossible. Especially when my muscles are going to be destroying themselves while I run. But with my improved body, I should be able to do this¡­ right? Ursula wouldn¡¯t give me something I couldn¡¯t do¡­ right?

    Yeah. Of course. I nod to myself confidently; I can do this. I set the treadmill with Ursula¡¯s specifications, lean down to make sure my laces are tied perfectly, and frown as a horrible screeching sound fills my ears. Cold sweat begins to trickle down my back as I slowly come to the realization that the sound is coming from the treadmill. The one I¡¯m supposed to run on.

    ¡­This is going to suck so goddamn hard.

    <hr>

    Pain lances through my entire body. It¡¯s like¡­ the horrible feeling of waking up the day after you twisted your ankle and forgetting what you did, then stomping down on the ground with all your weight on said ankle. Except it¡¯s my entire shitting body. I feel like I pulled my goddamn eyelids. I didn¡¯t even know that was possible. Hell, I didn¡¯t even work the damn things out.

    I¡¯m on the ground. My back pressed against a soft mat, every single part of me screaming that I made a huge mistake. Half an hour for the entire routine was a huge underestimation¨Cit took me an hour and a half to get through everything, and that¡¯s only because Pearl pep-talked me through the last half-hour. If this was a normal workout¡­ well¡­ I would have probably just caused permanent damage to everything in my body.

    And, hey, if the pills don¡¯t work right, there¡¯s still a chance that I just destroyed myself for no reason. I try to laugh at the situation, but all that comes out is a strangled gurgle followed by a coughing fit that feels like my ribs are closing in on my lungs like a bony iron maiden. Definitely not doing that again.

    I struggle to grab the green pill in my pocket, struggle some more to bring it up to my mouth, and drop it in without even trying to swallow. It slides down my throat¨Cwhich makes a lot of sense now that I can barely move my tongue¨Cand my eyes slam shut.

    <hr>

    ¡°Shelby! That¡¯s half an hour!¡±

    Pearl¡¯s voice rattles through my brain like a gunshot. I sit bolt upright, look around in a panic from a dream I can¡¯t really remember, and wince as my back groans at the effort. But¡­ it¡¯s just exertion and spasms. The blinding pain and discomfort from before is completely gone. Sure, my head still feels like I just threw my brain in a dryer with a bunch of metal pipes, but I can live with that.

    ¡°Rrgh.¡± I groan and raise a hand to my face. ¡°That was nowhere near enough rest time. I need a nap to recover from my nap.¡±

    ¡°No time for that! You have to do round two now!¡± Pearl chipperly reminds me. ¡°Do you want to know how much your body has gotten better since you went to sleep?¡±

    ¡­She can tell me that? Is she, like, completely jacked into my body¡¯s vitals or something? I almost open my mouth to say yes, but the blinking light of a security camera reminds me where I am. Instead, I push myself to my feet, make my way to the treadmill of suffering, and nod while doing so.¡±

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    Pearl nods right along with me as I press the ¡®on¡¯ button. ¡°Compared to before the workout, your body is ten percent better! I¡¯m working on some stuff to help the rest of your body that you can¡¯t work out to keep up with the stuff you can, but you¡¯ve got a while to go before you¡¯re breaking your own bones with your strength.¡±

    ¡°Something to look forward to.¡± I mutter as I stare down at the treadmill that looks more like a sanding belt. ¡°And I have to do this shit every single day. Maybe I¡¯m better off ignoring leveling up Body until I know I have a shit ton of free time coming up.¡±

    ¡°You could, sure. Or you could get better at doing the workout routine.¡± Pearl says without a hint of mockery. Even though it sounds like there should be some. ¡°If I can tinker with your brain a little, I might be able to improve the speed at which it rests and rejuvenates your body. Maybe I could even bring it up so you only need four hours of sleep a night¨Cthen you could do your routine instead of the other four hours.¡±

    That sounds like trading a nice part of my day¨Csleeping¨Cfor literal torture. Unfortunately, it kind of seems like if I don¡¯t do this I¡¯ll start falling behind pretty badly. Sure, all the class-bearers I¡¯ve dealt with so far weren¡¯t very strong, but they can¡¯t be the best the world has to offer. And the other world¡­ well¡­ there¡¯s bound to be others like Illumisia out there. Maybe even that horizonguard I saw for all of two minutes is a real danger.

    ¡°You¡¯re stalling, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    I wince at Pearl¡¯s blunt words because of how true they are. Then I swallow hard and raise a foot to get on the treadmill for the second torturous session of the day. When my foot hits the belt, and my legs nearly fly out from under me, it feels¡­ easier than before. Not pleasant by any stretch of the imagination, but just different enough that my brain registers it as a little more achievable.

    The feeling dies ten footsteps in, and the pain comes screaming back with a slightly lessened vengeance. But vengeance nonetheless.

    <hr>

    Days fly by in an uncomfortable blur. My time is spent split between trying to find something so I can bring Fleur along, tortuous workouts, and spending a few too many Worth trying to figure out what¡¯s changed with my spells. The only fruitful thing of the three is the workouts, but even those have severely diminishing returns. Probably because my Body stat¡¯s so shit.

    I lean back in my chair and sigh at the ceiling. Noland and Ursula are already in the other world doing important shit, March is there too, and I have no idea what Gil¡¯s doing. Part of me wants to go and check on Diane and Razi, but some minimal surveillance shows that they¡¯re trying their best to fit in with the other class-bearers around here.

    Leaving me with¡­ pretty much nothing left to do. A dozen coins roll around uselessly on my desk, with my shellraiser forged items strewn about around them. The only one I¡¯ve really used is the coin holster¨Cthe matrix and knife have seen next to no use at all. Something about them just¡­ doesn¡¯t feel worth investing a lot of time into. Which is sort of shitty, since my Soul stat completely revolves around them.

    ¡°Pearl, do you think I¡¯m underestimating this stuff?¡± I ask and raise the knife into the light. ¡°It feels like I can do more with just projectiles and shields than with either of these.¡±

    Pearl looks up from her seat on four stacked coins and shrugs. ¡°Only you can tell if your things help or hurt you. But you haven¡¯t been using them a lot lately, so¡­ maybe?¡±

    I sigh and flip the knife around. ¡°Yeah, I feel the same. It just makes my Soul stat feel like such a waste, you know?¡±

    ¡°I understand. You have the power core, too, and almost nothing to power.¡± Pearl purses her lips and scratches her chin. ¡°I bet you could power a bunch of our machines with your Soul and that power core. But if you don¡¯t have a reason to fight a war, then you really wouldn¡¯t need it. Honestly, though, do you really need many stats as a Worth class?¡±

    ¡­That is a very good question. Body and Mind are useful, that¡¯s for sure, and Fate is anywhere between the most important thing in the world and the least. Soul is the outlier¨Cif I can get my hands on an extremely powerful Shellraiser artifact, I¡¯ll need a shit ton of it. But for the things I have and never use, it¡¯s pretty much useless.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to think on that. But for now¡­ I think I should just level whatever¡¯s cheapest.¡± I chuckle and send everything on the table to my inventory. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be that much longer now. Let¡¯s go see Fleur before the other world yanks us back.¡±

    Pearl dusts herself off and scurries up my arm as I lean down to touch the table. She squelches into her shell as I latch onto my relocation coin on Fleur¡¯s platform, and once she¡¯s safely inside, I activate it. Relocation takes me to a very slightly improved version of the garden from a few days ago, with Fleur working tirelessly to ensure those improvements stick in the long-term.

    She turns and brightens the moment I appear. ¡°Shelby. Is it time already?¡±

    I nod and toss her a relocation coin. ¡°When I get there, I¡¯m going to try and relocate my pills to us. If that works, I¡¯ll relocate you right after. And if it doesn¡¯t¡­ here¡¯s my Class Card contact. Give it to the woman from the tailor¨CSami¨Cand she¡¯ll let you talk to me. I already hashed it out, so you don¡¯t have to worry about that.¡±

    Fleur nods and accepts the targeting, then hands me back the coin. ¡°I truly hope it works, but after hearing your stories about the system, I doubt it will be that simple. Else you could simply return here the moment you reached the other world.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t deny that, even though I wish I could.¡± I chuckle, then move in for a long hug. Fleur squeezes me right back instantly, and even Pearl hops out of her shell to get in on it. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ll be there, Fleur. Keep the resort safe for me while I¡¯m gone, okay?¡±

    She sighs happily into my shoulder. ¡°I will do my utmost.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and watch out for a guy named Gil! He might try to hit on you.¡± Pearl adds seriously. ¡°He isn¡¯t interested in humans, so you¡¯re right in his strike zone.¡±

    ¡°You do not have to worry about that. I have no interest in other humans.¡± Fleur breaks the hug, and her warmth lingers for a moment. ¡°Stay safe, Shelby. I will be here waiting impatiently for your return.¡±

 Chapter 125: Otherworldly

    What was a very nice moment slowly devolves into an awkward staring contest. I don¡¯t know why I thought the world transfer thing would show up at that very moment. I mean, it did for Gasp and Ava, so¡­ you know.

    I rub my arm and cough awkwardly. ¡°So¡­ uh¡­¡±

    ¡°You fully expected something to happen, didn¡¯t you?¡± Fleur laughs lightly and turns away. ¡°Whatever you were waiting for, you do not have to wait here for me. There must be at least one additional preparation you could make that would be worth your time.¡±

    Truth is, I¡¯m done preparing. I can¡¯t take anything with me to the other world except the clothes on my back and what¡¯s already in my inventory. Anything else is just¡­ sending messages that could be way easier to say in person. But I still want something to connect me to Fleur. Not just messages, but something a little more tangible.

    ¡°Fleur, can you make something for me that¡¯s purely aesthetic? Preferably something like a¡­ brooch or maybe some hairpins.¡± I vaguely gesture at my chest and hair for emphasis. ¡°A little reminder that we¡¯re still connected, even if we¡¯re worlds apart.¡±

    A blazingly warm glow lights up the world. I shield my eyes with my hand and try to squint through my fingers, but Fleur¡¯s luminescent emotion is far too strong for my fingers to block out.

    ¡°Of course I can! What style would you prefer¨Cfloral, leaf-like, or an entire plant?¡± Two of her hands grab my forearm as her face appears inches from mine. ¡°Personally, I think a water lily would suit you wonderfully. Though it would be a little too large¡­ so that will not work. Pearl is already in your hair, and I do not wish to encroach on her terrain¡­ no, I have the perfect thing.¡±

    Fleur¡¯s many arms whirl around a single point. Salt converges to the perfect center of the whirl as Fleur hums happily to herself, not bothering to look at whatever she¡¯s creating. Barely any magic goes into the creation, just her ability to manipulate salt and a little something that I can¡¯t quite place. Maybe it¡¯s to strengthen it so I don¡¯t accidentally destroy her creation.

    The whirl of arms slowly drifts over Fleur¡¯s shoulder and plants itself between us. She waits patiently for a few heartbeats, then reaches into the whirl¨Cstopping it instantly¨Cand wraps her hand around something that glows molten orange. Her own glow competes with it for the prize of brightest orange, and she holds it close to her chest as musical notes that almost sound like whispers flow out of the salt all around us.

    Like a proud child presenting her macaroni drawing to her parents, Fleur extends her hands to my chest and pushes something against my shirt. Her fingers fiddle with it for a few seconds, and a small prick of pain touches my skin before warm salt slithers down my neck and does¡­ something to the pin.

    ¡°There you go. Something to remember me by.¡± Fleur steps away, surveys her work, and nods. ¡°I truly hope you like it.¡±

    I look down at my chest, where there¡¯s a coin pinned to my shirt. The edge looks like it¡¯s made up of arms grasping each other by the elbows, and the body is pure black salt etched with scratch marks and symbols that don¡¯t look like anything I can recognize. Embossed onto the center of the coin is a simple fleur de lis, accented by bright orange that gives it a sense of¡­ something more. The first word that comes to mind is ¡®divinity¡¯.

    It¡¯s honestly pretty simple. But it already feels like I¡¯ve been wearing it all my life. A smile creeps up my lips, and I look up at Fleur who is waiting for my reaction.

    ¡°I love it, Fleur.¡±

    Her glow flares, then fades. She raises a hand to her chest, which expands like she¡¯s breathing a sigh of relief. ¡°I hoped you would say that. The fleur de lis is¨C¡±

    Thunderous noise rips through my mind as my vision goes briefly white. I stagger back a step, completely dumbfounded and blindsided by whatever the hell happened, and splay my arms out to either side as I work my awareness into overdrive.

    ¡°Pearl! Can you hear me?¡± I cry as I fumble blindly in the whiteness. ¡°I can¡¯t feel anything weird. Are we under attack?¡±

    A soft, wet breath trickles down my shoulder. I shudder as my vision suddenly blinks back into focus, but it doesn¡¯t look right. Glassy scenery with massive wooden structures stretches out beyond the horizon, with stains of cosmic black dotting the landscape. Huge blurs blot out portions of whatever the hell I¡¯m seeing, towering above the buildings as they move without disturbing the architecture.

    Finally, I look up. Another stain rests above my shoulder, dripping a pure black liquid from seemingly nowhere that trickles onto my skin and slides into my clothes. I swallow hard as my brain tries pointlessly to process whatever the hell I¡¯m looking at, and instead, more sensations greet me. Sticky wetness up to the center of my calves. A headache just on the edge of being enough to take a pill.

    And the horrible, gut-wrenching feeling that I should know what I¡¯m looking at. But my brain won¡¯t let me recognize it.

    ¡°Beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Pearl crawls out of her shell and sits on my shoulder, right underneath the trickle of black. A black that perfectly matches her own body, but without any of the colourful speckles. She sighs wistfully, gesturing at the stains that my brain won¡¯t let me see.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m allowed to remember the details now, but I guess the system can¡¯t hold my memories from me forever. Before this, it was like I knew the description of everything¨Cbut now I can see them too. Well, for some things.¡± Pearl smiles and breathes a soft laugh. ¡°It¡¯s only letting me remember the pointless stuff. The peaceful in-betweens.¡±

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    I reach up and scratch my other shoulder. It feels¡­ empty. ¡°Peace isn¡¯t pointless. That¡¯s what everyone wants, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t mean pointless like that.¡± Pearl quickly clarifies. ¡°Um, I meant it more like the ¡®this doesn¡¯t help us right now¡¯ kind of pointless. I don¡¯t know where the cities are, what happened to them, or how we did anything in them. Just that they existed, and that we lived peacefully in them for a long time. You know¨Cnice things that you don¡¯t need when the system¡¯s trying to kill you.¡±

    ¡°Ah. That kind of pointless.¡± I chuckle darkly and shake my head. ¡°There¡¯s no way this is a coincidence that this happens right before we go back to the other world. Did we make progress on your quest while we were on Earth, and it¡¯s giving all of it to us now?¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just going to happen every time we go to my world now. The system wouldn¡¯t give it to us if it¡¯s really important, so maybe it¡¯s just trying to distract us?¡±

    Fair point. I wouldn''t put it past the system to do something like that. But if it was going to distract us, then why show us this? Why risk me recognizing a landmark and finding a way to wherever this city¡­ was?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¨Cthis feels like a quest thing to me.¡± I say with unfounded confidence. ¡°Hell, maybe it¡¯s not even your quest. Maybe it¡¯s the one it warned me I¡¯d be bringing Nib into. Or the one the book wanted so it would upgrade my Class Card.¡±

    ¡°Forgeries made in shell or the serenade of shattered shells. Maybe.¡± Pearl sighs. ¡°It¡¯s weird, you know, seeing this place again. I have nostalgia for it but I don¡¯t really know why, and I feel like I should know so much more. But it¡¯s¡­ gone. That much I know.¡±

    She hugs her knees close to her chest and rests her chin on them as she stares out over the city. The black goo from whatever¡¯s behind me rolls off her like it¡¯s terrified to actually touch her, and she doesn¡¯t even react to it. It must hold some significance, but I wonder if she remembers what it is.

    ¡°How long is this going to last, Shelby?¡± She eventually asks. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be here much longer.¡±

    I don¡¯t have an answer for her. And just as I¡¯m about to open my mouth, the world goes white. Pearl gasps in surprise and scurries back into her shell. Fleur reappears right in front of me, her body in the exact same position as before the weird¡­ vision-thing happened. And between us is a pillar. One that looks like it¡¯s made of salt crystals, cosmic ooze, and decorated with golden coins.

    ¡°There it is.¡± Fleur says like nothing just happened. Which, for her, maybe nothing did. ¡°I hope to see you in moments, but if our parting turns out to be for a while, I will look forward to our messages. Good fortune and safe travels, you two.¡±

    Pearl stocks her head out of her shell with a glance of suspicion. ¡°It¡¯s lonely in here without you, Fleur. See you soon!¡±

    ¡°One way or another, we¡¯ll talk.¡± I summon my Class Card and tap it to the pillar. ¡°See you, Fleur.¡±

    The orange glow dims ever so slightly, and she doesn¡¯t say another word. Her hands all find a twin and lace their fingers together with some emotion that I can¡¯t quite make out, and she nods as I feel the world shrinking in on me.

    Everything turns to nothing. Nothing turns to stone, sky, and the chatter of passersby. I crack my neck as I take in nearly the exact same place in Palastia that I disappeared from a while ago. The stones under my feet, all the different non-humans, and a single Paindne leaning against a storefront while he fiddles with his Class Card.

    ¡°Hey.¡± I say with a casual wave. ¡°Looks like you got the message. Been waiting here long?¡±

    Clutter looks up from his Class Card. For a split second, he looks unbelievably nervous. Like someone about to meet their partner¡¯s parents for the very first time. He glances from side to side, as if there was something that was supposed to be there, then carefully pushes himself off the wall and walks over to me.

    ¡°I¡¯ve only been back in town for a day or two. Three days, actually. I haven¡¯t really found anything new¨Cwell, stuff that¡¯s super important¨Cbut I did find some quests that might help you out a little. Not important ones, though.¡± He looks down at his feet, his tail tucked between his legs. ¡°Did I mention that they¡¯re not really important?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow in suspicion. ¡°What¡¯s with you? Did someone spit in your cereal this morning?¡±

    He meets my eyes for a second, then looks away. ¡°The plastic things are really complicated. I haven¡¯t¡­ really¡­ actually¡­ you know¡­¡±

    ¡°But you did find other quests, right?¡± I tap my foot to get him to actually look at me. ¡°Did you find anything about what¡¯s going on with Palastia? Your messages sort of insinuated that they did.¡±

    ¡°Oh, th-that. I, um, kind of found a quest that needs a horizonguard¡¯s permission to start. But nobody¡¯s gotten a horizonguard¡¯s anything since I¡¯ve been here.¡± He tries to look away again, but I grab his chin to stop him from moving. He whimpers. ¡°Please don¡¯t eat me.¡±

    Eat¡­? I shake my head in exasperation. ¡°What has Illumisia been telling you?¡±

    ¡°Things. Lots of things.¡± He swallows hard. ¡°I promise I¡¯m really close to finding out how to trigger the plastic quest. Maybe you can do some of the others I found while I look around some more, or go talk to Nib and see if she¡¯s found anything from the robots?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were in contact with Nib.¡±

    His eyes widen a little. ¡°Of course I know her. I couldn¡¯t research what you asked me to without going to the university, and she knew you, so we just started talking. She¡¯s nice. Way more into shellraiser stuff than I am, though, and kind of scary when she¡¯s angry. Nowhere near as scary as Illumisia, though.¡±

    Pearl snorts to keep in a laugh. I can¡¯t help but smile, either, which seems to confuse Clutter.

    ¡°Well, thanks, Clutter. Good job so far¨CI didn¡¯t expect anything to happen this quickly anyway.¡± I reach out to pat his head, which probably isn¡¯t a great idea, but it sets his tail wagging. ¡°Meet me at the restaurant for lunch tomorrow, and we¡¯ll hash out all the details. Anything else important I should know before you go do whatever you¡¯ve got to do?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°No, miss Shelby. Nothing important enough that it can¡¯t wait another few hours. Bye!¡±

    With that, he turns and jogs down the street, nearly crashing into a cluster of people with shopping bags as he does. I watch with amusement as he apologizes and dodges them at the same time, magic gently floating away from his body like silken streamers.

    ¡°I thought we hashed out all the fear.¡± I mutter to myself as a heavy presence on my awareness presses against my leg. ¡°What did you do to him?¡±

    Illumisia rubs her flank against my leg and huffs. ¡°Nothing he wasn¡¯t able to handle. You smell overwhelmingly of salt.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to get used to that.¡± I chuckle and reach down to scratch her head, which she actually lets me do. Albeit with a grumble of annoyance. ¡°Do we have somewhere to stay?¡±

    ¡°I made arrangements through Clutter, yes.¡± Illumsia confirms, but doesn¡¯t start to move. ¡°We must wait here until the messenger arrives. You should confirm the changes and evolutions that progressed while you were not here before that happens.¡±

    ¡°That we agree on.¡± I pull four coins out of my pocket, then pat my chest to make sure the brooch is still there. ¡°But there¡¯s one thing I have to try before that.¡±

 Chapter 126: Immeasurable Distances

    Relocation flares. One of my coins attached to a bottle of pills shakes and shudders in my hand, and my mind feels like it zooms out a thousand times until I¡¯m focusing on the spell over a million miles away. I swallow hard and try to visualize the pills back on Earth, lying on the ground on Fleur¡¯s platform where I dropped them when I transported worlds.

    Flickering attachment barely scrapes my imagination. My memory of the pills seeps into the coin, aided by my awareness, and I try to force the spell to activate. What I can only describe as the magical equivalent of wrenching my shoulder as I try to reach a shelf that¡¯s too high rages down my awareness and into the coin.

    It disappears. My thoughts go black for a moment, and it feels like my mind is stretching between two points that are an unimaginable distance apart. There¡¯s no pathway from A to B. Somehow, they exist in two utterly separate existences. My pills shudder once on the ground, rattling in their plastic prison, and then go still.

    I reel backwards, nearly slamming my head into a stone wall as my spell fails. Breath scrapes from my lungs in short, horrible gasps. Everything hurts, but not like normal. My entire being feels¡­ weaker. Like my essence just got diluted in a huge pool of water. Trembling, I look down at my hands to see a black coin-shaped stain burned into my palm. I wince and close my fingers around it.

    ¡°No dice.¡± I mutter as actual pain from the burn lances up my arm. ¡°There¡¯s no connection between here and Earth; no matter how much Worth I could put into the spell, it wouldn¡¯t work. I¡¯ll have to message Fleur, then Ursula to get some new pills delivered.¡±

    Illumisia cocks her head to the side. ¡°If there is no connection between this world and yours, then how does the system move you between them?¡±

    I shake my head with a sigh. ¡°When we find that out, we¡¯ll be able to bring you to Earth and Fleur here.¡±

    ¡°If we can find that out.¡± Pearl corrects me. ¡°We couldn¡¯t find out how the system worked all those years ago, and we were actively studying it. There¡¯s no way we¡¯ll just stumble on it without putting in a lot of hard hours of research.¡±

    ¡°I concur. It would be nice to hop between worlds with you two, but it is not a priority.¡± Illumisia looks up the street, then back down the other side. ¡°Actually, now that I have said that, what is our priority? In essence, the system has completely won the war. Its lingering hatred affects only Pearl, myself, and you Worth Classes¨Cfor everyone else, it seems to be a purely benevolent entity.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. So?¡± I follow her gaze as she continues to scour the streets. ¡°As long as the system keeps calling me back, we¡¯ve got to do something about it. I¡¯m not going to roll over and die just because the executioner¡¯s nice to everyone but me and my friends.¡±

    ¡°And I would not expect you to. I am merely pointing out that the system is not some world ending threat that we can rally an army to defeat¨Cnot anymore.¡± Illumisia licks her lips and turns her eyes to me. ¡°We are fighting for our survival, not some moral or existential high ground. It will be far too easy for the system to turn others against us if it so wishes. As such, we should be truly careful of who we place our trust in.¡±

    I watch the people go by, most of which don¡¯t pay me more than a glance. A few stare at Illumisia, but it¡¯s the kind of stare you¡¯d give someone with a rottweiler on a street corner. I¡¯m not important here¨Cand that gives me so much more freedom. So I need to keep it that way.

    ¡°We ignore the horizonguard for now. Whoever they are, we can¡¯t afford to lock ourselves into anything for the long-term. Personally, I think we need to find out more about the rest of this world; what¡¯s it like beyond Palastia, how much influence does the system actually have, how other people live away from here¨Cthat kind of thing.¡± I push off from the wall and flick a thumb up the street. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like the messenger¡¯s coming. Let¡¯s go find something else.¡±

    Illumisia shoots one last look down the street before moving. ¡°I will see what happened to them later tonight. They would not simply abandon our agreement, as they know what would happen to them if they did.¡±

    ¡°You think something happened to them?¡±

    ¡°Doubtless.¡±

    ¡°That, or they¡¯re just scared of you.¡± Pearl giggles. ¡°You do have that effect on people.¡±

    Illumisa turns her nose up with pride. ¡°Thank you very much, Pearlescence.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Hey; long time no see.¡±

    The old Ogean woman who runs the bathhouse I used when I first came to Palastia looks up from her Class Card and furrows her brow. Recognition lights up her eyes a moment later, and she pulls her pipe out of her mouth as I walk up.

    ¡°You!¡± She smiles and pats the bench next to her. ¡°Didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see you around again, sugar. Your painted dane¡¯s been the talk of some very small circles, including one that overlaps with my own. What brings you around?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and glance down at Illumisia. ¡°What¡¯s she done that¡¯s worth being talked about?¡±

    ¡°Mostly being terrifying. But also delivering messages that are supposedly from you.¡± The woman puts her hands on her knees and looks down at Illumisia. ¡°Your friend wasn¡¯t here, though, so who were you working on behalf of?¡±

    Illumisia makes a noise deep in her throat. ¡°Nothing you should concern yourself with, sugar.¡±

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    The old woman doesn¡¯t even react. Reminding me that Illumisia is speaking straight into my mind just like Pearl does. I¡¯d almost completely forgotten, since Fleur talks without actually using a mouth, and she speaks out loud. I reach down and pat Illumisia¡¯s head, which gets a grumble out of her.

    ¡°I was sending messages from Earth to someone else here. Illumisia was just working to help them out.¡± I explain, which is mostly true. ¡°We were supposed to have somewhere to stay, but the messenger never showed up.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re wondering if I¡¯ve got rooms here, aren¡¯t you, sugar?¡± The old woman taps her lips with a long finger and frowns. ¡°Now, normally I don¡¯t rent out space for more than a few hours, but I¡¯ve got some long-term rooms for employees that haven¡¯t been occupied for a long while. They¡¯re not making any Worth for me at the moment, so anything you can offer is good for me, sugar.¡±

    I nod. That¡¯s exactly what I was hoping for. ¡°What if I wanted to use the baths, too? Standard rate?¡±

    ¡°Depending on how long you¡¯re staying, I¡¯ll give you a repeat discount. Steady profits are far better than uncertain ones, after all.¡± The woman smiles and nods towards the main building. ¡°I live in the back, and there¡¯s all the amenities you¡¯ll need to live connected to the employee rooms. If you want meals, you come out while I¡¯m making them, otherwise you¡¯re on your own. That works for you, sugar?¡±

    ¡°More than works, thank you.¡± I pull out my Class Card as a show of good faith. Which turns out to be a horrible idea, as notifications drown me in information windows. ¡°Oh, shit, I almost forgot about this. How much for a month, and when do you usually make meals?¡±

    ¡°Fifty Worth for a month, and I won¡¯t make you pay for a week. Since you might be low on funds, after all. Meals are at an hour before opening, some lunch hours, and most nights just after closing.¡± She takes a long draw of her pipe, then blows out a perfect ring of smoky red heat. ¡°You can take whatever open room you want, sugar. Just keep it clean and quiet past midnight, if you please.¡±

    I pull twenty-five doubled one Worth coins from my inventory and set them down next to my new landlord. ¡°Payment for the first month up front. I know you¡¯re giving me a screaming deal, so thank you again for being so generous. If I¡¯m ever here and you need help with anything, don¡¯t hesitate to ask.¡±

    The woman chuckles to herself and waves me on. ¡°I won¡¯t, sugar. Now get going¨CI¡¯m certain you¡¯ve got plenty of notifications you need to wade through before you can set out and do anything. Just follow the leaves carved into the stone, and put your hand in the handprint on the door it leads you to. And remember¨Csupper¡¯s just after closing if you want it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there for sure.¡± I smile and wave, then give her a short bow as I walk into the bath house. ¡°Oh, right¨CI never got your name.¡±

    ¡°You can call me Miss S. Which leaves the mystery of your own name, sugar. Though I¡¯m probably just gonna keep calling you sugar no matter what you say it is.¡±

    ¡°Shelby. See you for supper, Miss S.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make something worth salivating over. And enough to feed a painted dane, too, so don¡¯t go leaving her behind.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± I say as my feet touch stone, and a glance down easily finds the leaf pattern. Miss S turns away and focuses on the street before I have a chance to say anything else, but honestly, I¡¯ve pretty much said all I wanted to. Don¡¯t really have an idea why she seems to like me so much, but maybe it just has to do with the fact that she¡¯s a nice person.

    Misty stone halls with a little water creeping along the ground wind a little further than I thought the bathhouse was large. The leaf-etched stone starts off as a simple vine with a few leaves every now and again leading us deeper into the bathhouse, and as we go, it grows increasingly ornate. The leaves increase in number and detail, some berries and thorns get added to the vine, and eventually stylized whooshing clouds join as if we¡¯re climbing up a vine that reaches all the way up to the sky.

    Neither Pearl nor Illumisia say anything, though, so I put the strange sensation of distance out of my mind and just keep walking. The water disappears almost instantly, but the steam seems to thicken the further we go in. When I finally round the corner to see the door a dozen feet away, it feels like I¡¯m standing in a cloud with a sunbeam beating down on me. I pull my shirt away, expecting sweat to stick it to my skin, but it comes away completely dry. A little warm, sure, like it¡¯d been drying in the sun all day, but the steamy air definitely feels weird.

    Finally, I can¡¯t hold my strange feelings any longer. ¡°Illumisia, what the hell is going on here?¡±

    She shoots me a questioning look. ¡°We have entered the part of the bathhouse that is spatially distorted to exist in two places at once. I assumed you had noticed, but apparently your time on Earth has only dulled your senses. A pity.¡±

    ¡°Oh, screw you. I thought I was going crazy.¡± I sigh as Illumisia laughs quietly. ¡°Then what the hell is going to be on the other side of that door?¡±

    ¡°Somewhere else, obviously.¡±

    I roll my eyes. ¡°Wow, thank you so much miss living encyclopedia. I definitely missed having someone make snippy comments at me.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I know you did.¡± Illumisia smiles sarcastically. ¡°Nobody can replace me. I will devour them if they even dare to try. Now be a dear and open the door to wherever the powerful old Ogean woman¡¯s home is connected so you can sort out your Class Card and I can grill Pearlescence about your adventures on Earth.¡±

    The stone door looms at the end of the hallway like only an imposing door to an unknown space can. I swallow around the lump in my throat and step up to the thing decorated heavily with vines, leaves, berries, and plenty of crowds. The sensations of heat and moisture only increase the closer I get, and as I inch my hand toward the imprint of a hand much larger than mine, it feels like I¡¯m reaching for a stone slab that¡¯s been baking in the searing summer sun for hours.

    My skin sizzles as I press to the stone. But it doesn¡¯t hurt. The burn on my hand from the coin hurts, yeah, but not the door itself. Magic washes over me, seeping into my skin and concentrating in my clothes in an instant. My awareness flares over and over in warning, but it¡¯s a warning that something¡¯s there. Not that it¡¯s attacking or even trying to hurt me.

    Lines of heat rise up my hand and shoot up my arm. I flinch away from the door and slap at the magic like an annoying mosquito, but it¡¯s pointless. The magic worms its way onto the back of my neck and flares bright and hot, then disappears before my palm smacks it.

    ¡°The hell..¡± I start, but trail off as the door simply opens a crack. No fanfare, no magic¨Cjust the click of a lock unlocking and a small, welcoming crack. It¡¯s almost terrifying in its simplicity.

    Illumisia walks forward without a hint of fear.

    ¡°Wait.¡±

    She turns her head back at me. ¡°No. It is rude to refuse such a welcoming invitation. Come along¨Cwe have things that need to be done.¡±

    With that, she nudges the door the rest of the way open with her nose. A wall of cloudy steam obscures whatever¡¯s behind it, and only sunbeams can shine through. Illumisia waits a moment for me, then snorts and walks confidently through the steam.

    Leaving me with no real choice but to follow her.

 Chapter 127: Sky-High Gains

    Misty steam gently presses against my skin as I walk through the door, warm spots of sunshine lazily moving about on my body through the vapor. I raise a hand to try and wave away the stuff, but it¡¯s like the air itself here is thick and steamy. All I can do is walk, walk, and walk some more through the hallway as something¡­ iffy mounts in my ears.

    I smack the side of my head with a frown. ¡°Why does it feel like the pressure¡¯s getting way higher, but we¡¯ve been walking straight this entire time?¡±

    ¡°Magic. Most likely the old woman¡¯s.¡± Illumisia says from a little further in the mists. ¡°Though it is so insidiously hidden that I doubt your awareness can sense it with your current strength.¡±

    ¡°So, what, are we going down¨C¡±

    My words fail me as the mist disappears completely, and the sunbeams shine bright and unimpeded through an immaculately clear sky. Clouds stretch out for a hundred feet in every direction from where I¡¯m standing, and behind me is a small patch of much mistier clouds that seems to be¡­ directly on the floor. Which would mean that I just walked straight up for a few minutes.

    ¡°Holy¡­¡± I murmur as I take in the scenery. ¡°She lives here?¡±

    Columns and pillars support hundreds of vines, knit together to form a platform over the clouds with stones set in paths for us to follow. They lead to small buildings, each with walls of glass and stone columns holding them up. Through the glass I can see a kitchen, a bath, a nearly empty room with padding and a ton of magic woven into the stones, and a few bedrooms. There must be a bathroom somewhere, but from where I stand, I can¡¯t easily see it.

    All of the rooms are set in a crescent moon shape around the center¨Cof which I stand at one end of. Plants and clouds billow free, with a miniature sun radiating warmth and light hovering over a pillar that¡¯s so etched with magic runes that I can¡¯t look at it with my awareness active. The end of the strange cloud platform is a sheer drop off, from which the sound of cascading waters emanates.

    I walk close to it, careful to keep to the stone pathway through the clearing, and lean on a stone railing that stops me from simply walking off. Thousands of gallons of steaming water thunders down to Palastia far below, falling on one of the highest points of the blurry district that I don¡¯t have enough Mind to see.

    ¡°Illumisia, do you remember seeing a waterfall when we first got to Palastia?¡±

    The painted dane trods up next to me and grows until her head is level with mine. ¡°Yes, I did. But seeing as you never asked about it, I thought nothing of it. Taking your questioning tone into consideration, I take it that you did not see it?¡±

    I nod in confirmation. ¡°I thought it would just be censored, not completely hidden. That¡¯s kind of terrifying to think of what the system could do with this new information.¡±

    ¡°If it is any consolation, the deception was not wholly the system¡¯s doing. The old woman¡¯s magic attempted to hide it from view, and the system merely aided her in her efforts¡± Illumisia licks her lips, then dips her head below the clouds and takes long gulps of near boiling water. With a sigh of content, she lifts her head and shakes the excess off. ¡°These waters are extremely high quality. Your friend looking for ways to grow everdriftwood could use this for irrigation.¡±

    ¡°But ask her first!¡± Pearl cuts in before I can get a water bottle out. ¡°Magic stuff can turn really deadly if she decides you don¡¯t deserve it.¡±

    ¡°Just like March with everything she makes.¡± I lower my hand and make a mental note to ask for permission later. ¡°Thanks for the warning. I guess it¡¯s time to see what all those notifications were about, then. Illumisia, can you scope this place out for anything dangerous or¡­ where are you going?¡±

    Illumisia turns back to me and tilts her head to the side. ¡°I am doing exactly what you were too late to ask me to do. If I find anything dangerous enough that I cannot deal with on my own, lie down and prepare for your death, as there is nothing you could do to stop it.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the help.¡± I say sincerely, which seems to annoy Illumisia more than if I¡¯d been sarcastic. Which was the intent. ¡°Alright, Pearl, let¡¯s get started. First the notifications, then the rest of the stat coins that I didn¡¯t get to before, and then we¡¯ll try to contact Ursula for more pills. Anything we need to do immediately that I¡¯m forgetting?¡±

    Pearl slides out of her shell and shrugs. ¡°Not that I can think of. Should we try and find the Garza twins while we¡¯re here?¡±

    Gisela and Dora. Somehow, the thought of finding them hadn¡¯t even crossed my mind. It¡¯s definitely worth looking for them, since it doesn''t look like I¡¯m on a time limit this time, but it¡¯s not priority one. I¡¯ve seen how weak most people are after their first couple of visits¨Cthey won¡¯t be a threat until I¡¯m strong enough not to worry about them.

    ¡°I¡¯ll ask Clutter to keep an eye out. He¡¯s more likely to come by them than we are.¡± I decide as I pull out my Class Card and stare at the thing. ¡°Okay. Get ready for a deluge of information.¡±

    Spell Evolutions Ready: Projectile, Shield.

    Skill Evolutions In Progress: High Stakes, Twist Fate.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    New Spell: Horrendous Purification.

    New Passive Skill: Halsia Deity.

    Current Worth: 1233.

    Not as many popups as I was expecting, but I guess that¡¯s because all the actual notifications are condensed into single sentences. I¡¯m not surprised that my spells are ready to evolve, since I¡¯ve spent so much Worth on them, but my skills too? That¡¯s an unexpected surprise. And, to top it all off, apparently the debuff Fleur gave me on the krarig somehow turned into a spell. I ignore the line of text that calls me a god for now, but with how Pearl focuses on it, I can¡¯t for long.

    ¡°Those are some nice gains.¡± I nod to myself, then swipe to my spells and activate Shellbound Aggregate to turn Horrendous Purification coinbound. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see what this looks like now.¡±

    Coinbound Purification

    Evolution Requirements 1/2: Spend 100 Worth on this spell.

    Evolution Requirements 2/2: Purify a threat of level 10 or greater for 100 seconds.

    Progress: 0/100, 0/100.

    Use a Worth coin as a base to begin emitting a field of purifying magic, which prevents the use of mana and removes all other buffs/debuffs from anything that enters the field. If touched to an object before emission, that object can instead be designated to gain the purifying effects. Has weakened effects on more powerful targets.

    ¡­

    Halsia Deity Effect: If the user so wishes, they can become immune to any individual part of this spell¡¯s effects.

    ¡­Halsia Deity effect? I read over the description again just to make sure I¡¯m not hallucinating, and sure enough, that last sentence stays stubbornly in place. It looks like that skill¡¯s going to do something to all my spells, but¡­ wait. Is that what I felt back at the party? The more complex shields, the stronger projectiles¨Cwas that all the new skill?

    Pearl reads right alongside me, tapping on her knee all the while. ¡°It looks like becoming Fleur¡¯s god actually had some tangible benefits. That¡¯s neat.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say it like that.¡± I sigh and swipe the window away. ¡°It makes it sound like I only did this because it benefitted me.¡±

    ¡°We all know you didn¡¯t.¡± Pearl leans back on her hands and kicks her feet over my shoulder in thought. ¡°I wonder if you could get another skill if I made you my god. Or¡­ hm. Maybe spreading my awareness to you is pretty much just that. Do you think you¡¯re my god, Shelby?¡±

    I shake my head and laugh. ¡°Shit, I hope not. I¡¯m still registering the fact that ¡®god¡¯ is apparently a system-recognized title. Or¡­ deity, I guess, but that¡¯s just another word for it. Well, might as well check what the actual skill description says now that I can''t ignore it.¡±

    A few taps and swipes brings up the skill. I read it over once, then twice, as a frown etches itself onto my face. The description isn¡¯t exactly¡­ descriptive.

    Halsia Deity.

    You are a god to them.

    Their adoration empowers you.

    Eventually, you will abandon them.

    And then you will be nothing but a footnote in their history.

    Pearl sneers at the text like it personally insulted her. ¡°Darn system. If you don¡¯t know what the skill does, you don¡¯t have to be a jerk about it.¡±

    ¡°But it has to know what it does¨Cthe description for the effect on purification is right there.¡± I swipe back to purification to prove my point. ¡°See? How can the system not know what the skill does but still give a description for what happens to the spell?¡±

    ¡°Assumption by negation.¡± Pearl says easily. ¡°The system knows exactly what a normal coinbound purification does, and it knows what yours does because it¡¯s a modification of what¡¯s already in there. All it knows about this new skill is that it has an effect on your spells, and that it appeared after you became Fleur¡¯s god.¡±

    I don¡¯t have a better explanation, but that doesn¡¯t sound quite right. How would the system even catalog a skill that it never saw before? Did it just sense that I had something new, categorize it as a skill, and write a snarky description to try and tell me off? Because if it did, then that¡¯s almost pathetic. Not threatening like I assume it wanted to come off as.

    ¡°Just another thing I need to look into. Throw it on the pile with the rest. Speaking of; let¡¯s see what happened to projectile and shield.¡±

    *Coinbound Shield*

    Evolution Requirements: Spend 50 Worth on a single Shield.

    Progress: 1203/50

    Create a barrier of magical energy using a Worth coin as a base. It shatters when it takes enough damage, ending the spell. Can only be used on coins of value 1-5.

    ¡­

    Halsia Deity Effect: The shield is broken down into much smaller, crystalline segments that can be given more intricate commands at no additional cost or mental strain.

    *Coinbound Projectile*

    Evolution Requirement: Create a projectile that lasts for 30 minutes.

    Progress: 42/30

    Create a whirling mass of destructive magical energy using a Worth coin as a base. Once it runs out of energy, it dissipates. Can only be used with coins of value 1-5.

    ¡­

    Halsia Deity Effect: Projectiles contain solid, crystalline mass that allows for greater control.

    So not much changed, save for the Fleur effect and the fact that they¡¯re ready to evolve. A hundred times over, which means Noland taking over my spells still counted as me casting them. I¡¯m pretty sure I couldn¡¯t see the requirements before, so¡­ what changed? Did I get another Mind stat that I forgot about¡­ oh, right, the dragonjet! I got an extra Mind from that. It must¡¯ve been enough to push me over the edge for the info. Nice.

    ¡­Wait, how the hell was I supposed to spend fifty Worth on one shield on my own? Or make a projectile that lasts thirty minutes? That smells like more of the system¡¯s bullshit to me. I¡¯ll have to be careful about the next evolutions if they¡¯re technically impossible, too. Now that the spells are out of the way, I swipe over to my skills and press on High Stakes.

    A few simple changes flash before my eyes. But there¡¯s only one that I can focus on¨Call the others just fade away into the background.

    Current Maximum Odds: 2/1.

 Chapter 128: New Ways To Cheat

    Increased odds. I knew this was going to happen eventually, but I guess ¡®eventually¡¯ means now. Two to one odds means a thirty-three percent chance of winning whatever you¡¯re doing, and if there¡¯s proportional payouts, it means I¡¯ll get a profit of two Worth from putting in one for a grand total of three Worth. Problem is, I don¡¯t know a way to cheat two to one odds like I do one to one odds.

    A coin appears in my palm, and I start flipping it through my fingers as I think. First thing¡¯s first, though; I need to make sure I can still make bets that are lower than this new maximum. I split it into two ghost quarters, palm one of them, and flick the other into my other hand. A flick of my thumb sends it tumbling through the air, and I snatch it right after it hits its apex.

    ¡°Heads.¡±

    I curl open my fingers, and the smallest whisper of magic doubles the coin¡¯s value. A sigh of relief escapes my lips; as long as there¡¯s a guaranteed way to get more out of my Worth, then I can safely keep doing things. But a two to one¡­ that¡¯s a little harder.

    ¡°Pearl, do you know any way I can cheat this?¡± I shamelessly ask.

    She shakes her head without a moment¡¯s hesitation. ¡°I never had to do anything like this before. Can¡¯t you just make up a game that you have a thirty-three percent chance of winning and, well, win?¡±

    ¡°Sure. At a thirty-three percent chance to win. But if I actually want to get more out of this increase, I need to find a way to make it a sure bet. Something like how I rig the coin tosses so I can never lose.¡± I turn to the center of the clearing and scan the rooms. ¡°Let¡¯s find my room, then we¡¯ll shelve this until we don¡¯t have anything else to check.¡±

    I walk across a stone, and light shoots up from it in a blinding haze. Magic spills from the sun in the center and slithers along the ground, lighting stones for a split second as it rolls over them. It settles in a path of stones, one by one, that leads me directly to a specific room with a rectangular outline etched on the glass.

    It couldn¡¯t be any clearer what that meant if it put up a neon sign. Even if Miss S said I could take whatever room I wanted, it¡¯s kind of hard to ignore an invitation like that. So I don¡¯t. Stones click under my feet and dim to a manageable glow as I follow the path to the rectangle on the glass, and when the last one dims, another handprint flashes bright on the glass. Part of me doesn¡¯t want to get my fingerprints all up and on the clean panes, but if that¡¯s the only way in, I guess I have to do it.

    Warmth hits my fingers as I spread them out before the handprint. Compared to the other stone door, it¡¯s¡­ strangely different. Like standing outside of a shitty greenhouse and feeling radiant heat seep through uninsulated glass. I press my fingers to the warm glass, feel the magic work itself into my palm, and step back as the glass starts to shake.

    It shatters into dozens of shards that all push back barely an inch, hovering perfectly in place, and float out of the way to let me in. I lean into the room halfway, just to make sure it isn¡¯t boiling hot inside, and much to my surprise it¡¯s pleasantly cool.

    ¡°Illumisia, we¡¯re going inside!¡± I call out without turning around. ¡°Yell when you want in!¡±

    A pinched howl is her response, and I step fully into the room. The glass shards wait until I¡¯m fully inside to move again, float back to the opening, and fit together like a perfect puzzle. Warm magic shoots through all the cracks, and with a low flash, the glass seals me in. I look up at the ceiling to make sure there¡¯s still air getting in somehow, but I can¡¯t really see anything.

    There is a little breeze, though, so that probably means it¡¯s fine. I beeline for a couch and flop down on it, call my Class Card once more, and swipe to the last two things I want to check.

    Twist Fate

    Can be activated twice in quick succession. If the second use is not consumed within 30 seconds, the skill goes on cooldown and the second activation is lost.

    ¡°A small change, but I can see it being useful.¡± Pearl notes. ¡°You¡¯ll probably have to be a little more careful with when you use it if you want to get the most out of it, but you can still use it just like before too.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Kind of like how High Stakes evolved, actually.¡±

    ¡°Right. Probably because they¡¯re both Gambler class skills.¡±

    ¡°Good point.¡± I chuckle and swipe away from the skill. ¡°Now I want to know why Relocation didn¡¯t evolve with Projectile and Shield when Noland hijacked it.¡±

    My Class Card flickers, and the description of Relocation appears before my eyes. There¡¯s no Halsia Deity effect for it, which is kind of weird, and the actual spell¡¯s description hasn¡¯t changed at all. But what used to be a bunch of question marks is now a complete sentence. One that definitely couldn¡¯t be achieved with just dumping Worth into it.

    Coinbound Relocation

    Evolution Requirements: Understand how the system teleports immeasurable distances.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Progress: 0/1.

    So, yeah. That¡¯s not happening any time soon. Pearl hums in annoyance as I swipe away from it, but she doesn¡¯t seem to have anything to say. The only way I¡¯m going to achieve that is with the system actually telling me¨Cand that¡¯s about as likely as a volcano spewing out strawberry flavoured confetti.

    ¡°Shit, I think knowing what I need to do actually demotivates me on this one.¡± I swipe away from the window and go right back to High Stakes¡¯ description. ¡°So let¡¯s not even bother with that shit¨Crelocation¡¯s pretty overpowered on its own anyway. Instead; two to one odds. Got any ideas that I can do on the fly and guarantee a win?¡±

    Pearl blows a raspberry and shrugs. ¡°Nothing new since two minutes ago, sorry. Um, does it have to be three equal chances? Or can you bet on one outcome that¡¯s one-third likey against another outcome that¡¯s two-thirds likely?¡±

    ¡°Either one works, as long as I¡¯m betting on the one that happens one-third of the time.¡± I say as I look around the room for anything to use. My eyes settle on a small pile of colourful cork coasters. ¡°Here, let¡¯s just test this out.¡±

    I lean forward and grab three differently coloured coasters from the pile. They¡¯re all exactly the same size, without any markings or scents or whatever that I could use to tell them apart. Nothing that¡¯s common knowledge, at least, which seems to be how the system determines if I¡¯m cheating or not. I put them behind my back, shuffle them together, and pick one of them at random without showing it to anyone.

    Then I focus on the one ghost quarter I still have in my palm. ¡°Blue.¡±

    Nothing happens right away. I slowly move the one coaster in my right hand out from behind my back, and before I can see anything, Pearl lets out a quiet ¡®aww¡¯. Instantly, the coin in my palm turns to dust and dissipates before any of the grains can touch the sofa. All before I could actually check what the colour I picked was¨Cbut I guess I don¡¯t have to. It¡¯s when anyone sees the results¨Cnot just me.

    ¡°Damn.¡± I sigh as the red coaster enters my field of view. ¡°Good confirmation that I can bet a coin and it¡¯ll still work even if it¡¯s not the one I flip, and that anyone can confirm the results, but it still hurts to lose a Worth. Now¡­ what the hell can I do to cheat this?¡±

    There¡¯s the obvious: marked cards. Take a deck, remove all the cards of one suit, then slightly mark one card. Then every time I want to wager my coins, I can just pull out the deck and make the call. But¡­ that feels dangerous. Always pulling the same card¨Cor even the same suit¨Cwould be really risky. The system might crack down on that as cheating, since I¡¯m actually using a marked thing, not its own coins.

    So that¡¯s out. And by my own admission, I need to find something that doesn¡¯t require me to mark or alter anything at all. It needs to be a trick I can do with anything that anyone hands me, just like my coin toss calls. Preferably something the system makes by itself. I wrack my brain, feeling like I¡¯m missing something kind of obvious, but absolutely nothing comes to mind. If I¡¯m not going to cheat so blatantly that I risk the skill¡¯s use, I don¡¯t know what I can do.

    ¡°Well¡­ might as well try.¡± I put the coasters behind my back once more, scratch a line into the blue one with my fingernail, and split another one Worth coin in two. After a few moments of shuffling the coasters, I feel the scratch with my palm and stop. ¡°Blue.¡±

    Pressure mounts behind my eyes, and a flash of magic builds atop my coin. Before I can say anything, the thing bursts like an overfilled balloon and I feel my connection to it sever. Pearl and I both stare at it in disbelief, and I can¡¯t help but think how lucky I was that the system couldn¡¯t count my coin trick as cheating.

    ¡°So not that.¡± Pearl eventually says. ¡°Now what happens if I shuffle them, and with your eyes closed, you pick one but use the scratch to find the right one? ¡­Actually, nevermind¨Cthat¡¯s just what you did with an extra step.¡±

    ¡°It is.¡± I confirm with a frown. ¡°But I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll think of something eventually. Worst case scenario, I can just use Twist Fate to get the outcome I want on a long cooldown. As long as thirty-three percent counts as ¡®likely¡¯, which I damn sure hope it does.¡±

    A loud crash accompanies a spray of glass plinking off my skin. I turn and shoot Illumisia an unamused look as she shakes the shards free from her fur, not a line of blood in sight. Not on her, nor on me.

    ¡°I could¡¯ve opened the door for you.¡±

    She walks right up to the couch, shrinks down to the size of a great dane, and hops up right next to me.

    ¡°Yes, you could have. However, this was much more amusing for me.¡± She licks her lips and smiles. ¡°The glass is enchanted to have no sharp edges, and to perfectly reconstruct itself after it is broken. There was never any danger to you or the Ogean¡¯s property.¡±

    I roll my eyes. ¡°Like that would''ve stopped you.¡±

    ¡°No, it would not have.¡± Illumisia agrees. ¡°Did you find what you were looking for?¡±

    ¡°Nope. But that¡¯s not going to change any time soon.¡± I watch the glass knit itself back together and push myself off the couch. ¡°Instead, we should focus on what Clutter found, Nib¡¯s research, and what happened to your messenger. Is it possible something found them?¡±

    Illumisia doesn¡¯t leave the couch as I walk to the partition in the room and push it aside, revealing a comfortable-looking bed. Beyond the bed is a single shower stall, a toilet, and a sink. All surrounded by nothing but glass, which isn¡¯t great for privacy.

    ¡°There is a great possibility they were killed or kidnapped. There is also an equally great possibility that they simply took the payment and ran. It is a risk you take when you hire those of ill repute.¡± Illumisia says into my mind from across the room. ¡°Tomorrow, before we meet with Clutter, we should return to where I found and hired them. Perhaps we will find some insight into their disappearance there.¡±

    I pat a pillow with my palm, and it puffs right back up like rubber. Not quite my style, but probably high quality. ¡°What about the place you rented? Should we look there?¡±

    ¡°Of course. But I do not know if we will have enough time to do that between investigating the disappearing messenger and meeting with Clutter. Perhaps we should look into it after our meeting.¡±

    ¡°And we have to get you more pills.¡± Pearl chimes in. ¡°You need to torture yourself for four hours a day so you can get stronger!¡±

    I groan and flop down onto the bed. ¡°Maybe we can do that in a few days.¡±

    ¡°We can do it over supper.¡± Illumisia says helpfully.

    ¡°Great.¡±

 Chapter 129: Dinner and a Warning

    ¡°Yeah, sorry Fleur¨Cit looks like you won¡¯t be able to leave Earth until I figure out another way. Send me a message whenever you want to talk, and I¡¯ll get back to you as soon as physically possible. Good luck with your salt while I¡¯m gone.¡±

    I wait a second for the speech-to-text to catch up, then hit send. A long string of messages¨Cnone of which had touched on the actual issue¨Cstretches out before it like a very long receipt. Fleur¡¯s tone, and the fact that she¡¯s still there, made assumptions, but actually putting it to text feels like a small defeat.

    Pearl pats the side of my head to comfort me. ¡°She knew there was a chance it wouldn¡¯t happen. Or else she wouldn¡¯t have started a big project right when you were about to go back.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± I sigh and send my Class Card away after Fleur sends a single ¡®thank you, and good luck¡¯ right back. ¡°Still sucks, though. It would¡¯ve been nice to have her company through whatever shit we¡¯re about to get sucked into.¡±

    ¡°Her firepower would also be a considerable addition to our arsenal. Seeing as your other coworkers are dealing with their own issues.¡± Illumisia cuts in from the other side of the bath. ¡°Though perhaps it is for the best that she has time to grow her power for herself. Turning what was once instinct into a honed weapon is far more difficult than one would think, and to suddenly lose so much power must have been a severe shock.¡±

    ¡°And she almost died; don¡¯t forget that.¡± Pearl puts her hands on her lap and smiles. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right; Fleur could use a little vacation from danger to get a handle on what she wants to do. Or maybe she¡¯s super disappointed and can¡¯t stand being away from us.¡±

    I really hope that isn¡¯t true. Fleur¡¯s only been alive for a few years at most, and truly sentient for way less than that. Something changed in her when Ursula and I got to the krarig, and now she¡¯s her own person. Sure, she¡¯s technically my worshiper, but I¡¯m still not really comfortable with that. So I¡¯ll just hope that she has something to really dedicate herself to while I¡¯m here.

    Another message notification pops up over my eyes, and with barely a glance, I mentally shove it to the side. Looks like Ursula¡¯s coming into town in a week so she can give me more pills. Which means I get a week of reprieve from that torturous workout regime.

    Pearl¡¯s eyes snap wide open, and she squeaks in surprise as she squelches back into her shell. I raise an eyebrow at Illumisia, but she says absolutely nothing in response. Moments later Miss S appears out of the whirl of clouds, brushes off her clothes, and shoots a glance in my direction.

    ¡°Supper is in thirty minutes, sugar. Should I put out two extra plates?¡±

    I nod in confirmation. ¡°Yes, please and thank you. It¡¯s a beautiful place you have here, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing compared to the ones back home. Just a little slice of nostalgia in the middle of the city.¡± She waves a hand dismissively, but the compliment puts a smile on her face and a bounce in her step. ¡°One day, when you eventually go to my homeland, you¡¯ll see what I mean. But until then, you can think of this as a little retreat from all the worries of everyday life.¡±

    She walks up to the kitchen, waves her hand at the glass, and it shatters open for her. With a glance over her shoulder and a small nod she walks right through, the glass knitting together behind her as she makes her way to the stove. I watch her work for a minute as the soothing waters caress my body, until it finally sinks in that her voice carries perfectly through the glass. And so does mine.

    ¡°Why can we talk through the glass? Is it magic?¡±

    Miss S shrugs. ¡°Not impressive stuff, but yes. The glass can trap or let anything pass through easily¨Cheat, sound, smells, light¨Cand I can control it very easily. If you watn to change anything, there are dials in the room you can use to adjust the settings.¡±

    ¡°Good to know.¡± I say with a glance over at the bathroom. At least I won¡¯t have to go with all the world watching. ¡°Oh, right, I should ask¨Cone of my associates hired a messenger a few days ago, and they just disappeared off the face of the planet. Have you heard about anything weird happening?¡±

    ¡°A few days ago¡­ let me think¡­¡± Miss S drums her fingers on the countertop as she bends down and pulls ingredients out of a drawer. She shakes her head. ¡°Nothing serious enough that I would¡¯ve heard about it, sugar. If the messenger was from a shady source, you¡¯ll want to look into it on your own. Do you know where they worked?¡±

    I look over at Illumisia. She dips her head below the water, then comes up and shakes herself dry in a violent whirl of fur and teeth. With eye motions at Miss S¡¯ back, Illumisia finally catches on and huffs in annoyance. For some reason.

    ¡°Stonestep Solutions.¡± She says directly into my mind. ¡°That is where they claimed to work, though I do not know if they were being truthful. I did not care to check the veracity of their claim.¡±

    Alright. Don¡¯t know why she was annoyed to give me a vital piece of information, but sure. I parrot what Illumisia said, translated into my own cadence of speech, and wait as Miss S ponders this new information.

    ¡°They are known to operate on both sides of the law, but I don¡¯t think they¡¯re in the business of taking money and running.¡± She eventually says and turns to me with a smile. ¡°Scamming dangerous class-bearers is one way to get permanently shut down, sugar. If anything, I think they¡¯d be more worried that their worker took a payment and skipped town.¡±

    Illumisia growls. ¡°If it is true that they took the payment and ran, they will not survive our next encounter.¡±

    I shudder at the violent aura that rolls off Illumisia like a virulent fog. For the messenger¡¯s sake, I hope they¡¯re just captured and being interrogated somewhere. Pure torture¡¯s the only worse thing than what Illumisia would do to them if that¡¯s not the case.

    ¡°Is there any branch you¡¯d recommend starting the search from?¡±

    A sizzle of butter on a hot frying pan hits my ears like it¡¯s a foot away, and the smell of dozens of spices follows immediately after. My mouth instantly starts to water at the foreign yet delicious smell¨Cand then Miss S drops a slab of cream-yellow stuff onto the pan. A strange fruity aroma, like the taste of a durian mixed with strong swiss cheese, cuts through the spices for a split second before they join together in a harmony that¡¯s not like anything I¡¯ve ever eaten before. A yogurt curry is probably the closest thing I¡¯ve ever had to it, but even that pales in comparison to whatever Miss S is cooking.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    She raises a finger in the air, and a sheen of magic coats her hand like a rubber glove. Then she reaches down, presses her palm to the slab of stuff, and spreads the magic over it like one of those metal burger smashers. With a delicate shove the slab squishes down to perfectly coat the bottom of the pan, and as she raises her hand, the magic disappears. For a brief moment, I have to wonder if there¡¯s such a thing as food-grade or food-safe magic.

    ¡°There¡¯s a branch just on the outer rim of where you¡¯re allowed to go, sugar. I¡¯ll draw you a map and you can go there when it opens tomorrow.¡± Miss S spins the pan handle to the inside of the stove, then grabs a second pan and starts to repeat the process. ¡°Just be careful, sugar. You¡¯re strong for your clearance, but that doesn¡¯t mean there aren¡¯t others out there who¡¯ll play dirty to make sure you come up the loser. I wouldn¡¯t want to lose my guest on the first day she¡¯s staying with me, after all.¡±

    A pop and a click, followed by a burst of a sweet scent and a splatter of juice doesn¡¯t even bother Miss S. She just reaches out, grabs the pan, and shakes it twice. Even though there¡¯s now a sizzling stain on the stovetop.

    ¡°Just relax until dinner¡¯s ready, sugar. We¡¯ll talk when your belly¡¯s full of thinking fuel.¡±

    <hr>

    The strange food is¡­ well¡­ ¡®delicious¡¯ definitely isn¡¯t the right word for it. It¡¯s so unbelievably rich and filling, to the point that a single bite of the pancake-like thing topped with sauteed veggies and some kind of rich green sauce is like an entire meal on its own. Illumisia devours it within seconds, Pearl constantly compliments the smell, and Miss S works away at hers like it¡¯s a thick steak.

    By the time I clean my plate, the fruity-savory-cheesy taste feels like it¡¯ll never leave my mouth. And, for some reason, I kind of love it. Even if it didn¡¯t taste like the best thing in the world, the actual process of eating it made my mouth feel like it just had a good night¡¯s sleep. Plus, even though it¡¯s got a pound of food in it, my stomach isn¡¯t even grumbling. Energy wells up in me almost instantly, and instead of the coma I usually fall into after such a huge meal, I¡¯m ready to run a marathon.

    ¡°That was¡­ an experience.¡± I say honestly as I set my fork and knife down. ¡°I never knew a meal could feel like waking up after a good night¡¯s sleep.¡±

    Miss S wipes her mouth with a napkin and nods. ¡°It¡¯s not quite medicinal cooking, but traditional Ogean meals always have a purpose. Snacks and deserts are the things you truly enjoy. I baked a delicious pie a few days back¨Cwould you like a slice now, or do you need some time to let the meal settle?¡±

    I pat my stomach, fully expecting to decline her invitation, but I don¡¯t feel disgustingly full. ¡°What kind of pie is it?¡±

    ¡°Candied sunfruit in airy cream.¡± Miss S says proudly as she stands and walks to the fridge. ¡°You Earthers call it ¡®whipped cream¡¯, I think. But nobody¡¯s ready for just how bright the taste of sunfruit is. Are you up to the challenge, sugar?¡±

    A pie? A challenge? ¡°Pfft, no desert¡¯s ever challenged me. Unless it¡¯s got bugs in it. I can¡¯t eat bugs.¡±

    Miss S pulls out a pie with a crust as dark as toasted graham crackers, and since half of its gone, I can see a shimmering yellow-orange filling that¡¯s struck through with lines of whipped cream. She closes the fridge with her heel and makes her way back to the table, sets the pie down in the middle, and draws a finger empowered with magic down the crust. It flakes and splits easily, and within seconds, she places a piece on my somehow perfectly clean plate.

    I lick my fork clean, but it already tastes like nothing. She watches with rapt attention as I push through the crust, feeling the flaky crust give under my utensil and the filling squish ever so slightly before giving way. An unbelievably sour yet sickly sweet burst of scent punches me in the face, and I physically flinch away as Miss S holds back a laugh.

    Illumisia doesn¡¯t even try to hide her barking laugh, and I shoot her a withering glare that does absolutely nothing. I bring the fork down close to her, and halfway through a sniff she yelps in surprise and scrambles away.

    ¡°Told you.¡± I say with smug satisfaction and bring the fork to my mouth. ¡°See you on the other side.¡±

    The crust hits my tongue first. It¡¯s crispy, flaky, and has a buttery and slightly bitter flavour that reminds me of really good dark chocolate. I savor the sensation for the moments before the piece flops to the side and the filling hits my tongue.

    Unbelievably sour gel spreads over my taste buds like a low-lying lemon juice fog. But the flavor is strangely bright¨Ccloser to a pear mixed with a blood orange¨Cthough the sour cuts through everything like a knife. I swallow involuntarily, and then chew a few times as my eyes start to water. Then, suddenly, the flavor changes completely.

    Milky, sugary sweetness hits the sour like a freight train. There¡¯s a moment where my brain doesn¡¯t quite know how to react to two completely separate flavours actually fighting for dominance. I stare off into the distance as they struggle for supremacy, slowly melding together from two completely separate entities into a single flavour that¡¯s really hard to describe. It¡¯s sweet, sour, a little bitter, and unbelievably bright and airy. I let it sit in my mouth for a second, swallow the rest of it, and instantly go for a second bite.

    Miss S¡¯ lips twitch into a grin as I devour the rest of the slice. ¡°Looks like you¡¯re one of the good ones.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and wipe my mouth with a napkin. ¡°What do you mean ¡®good ones¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Oh, just a little old welcoming ritual from my homeland.¡± She cuts herself a piece, then sits back down. ¡°The real flavor of the pie doesn¡¯t come out until you let it sit for a moment¨Cif you spit it out before the flavours settle in, then tradition states that you can never really be trusted. But if you give it a real try, even if you hate the flavour, then you¡¯re given a chance. Personally, I prefer if my guests like the taste, but I can¡¯t fault anyone who doesn¡¯t.¡±

    She gestures at Illumisia with her fork. ¡°Like your companion there, who has a very heightened sense of smell. I can¡¯t blame her for her body rejecting something with a very pungent scent. Though with how she obliterated her supper, I bet she¡¯d love some of this.¡±

    Illumisia shakes her head vigorously. ¡°Do not let that woman make me eat the pie. I will murder the both of you if you attempt such a vile transgression.¡±

    I laugh, much to Miss S¡¯ confusion, and push my perfectly clean plate away. ¡°Thanks for supper. Now, you know something more about the people I hired than you¡¯re letting on. Why bother waiting?¡±

    Miss S takes a bite of pie, then sets her fork down on her plate. She eyes me up and down, stopping for a moment on my bite marks that could pass as tattoos, and I can see hesitation in her eyes. Even when she looks away, there¡¯s a hint of reluctance that brings her eyes right back to my bite marks for a fraction of a second.

    ¡°Before I say anything, I want to know how you got those marks.¡± She says seriously.

    I point at Illumisia. ¡°She bit me. Magic filled them instead of scars.¡±

    ¡°...You¡¯re serious.¡± Miss S stares at Illumisia, then back to me. ¡°You¡¯re actually serious, aren¡¯t you, sugar?¡±

    I nod. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I be?¡±

    Miss S blinks, then shakes her head with a short laugh. ¡°I guess I don¡¯t have a good answer for you there. Give me thirty seconds to finish my pie and I¡¯ll tell you why Stonestep Solutions is something you really shouldn¡¯t be sticking your nose into if you¡¯re not unbelievably confident in your abilities.¡±

 Chapter 130: A Trail Of Old Blood

    The rest of the night passes with pleasant conversation, good food, and an unbelievable view of the sunset. Miss S seems to be pretty happy with us being here with her, and when it comes time to sleep, she breaks off to one of the rooms and leaves us with a pile of baked goods to munch on. When the glass closes in behind her the entire room goes perfectly black, and after a moment, I pull out a stat coin and put it on the table in front of me.

    ¡°That was not much of a warning.¡± Illumisia says into my mind as she yawns wide. ¡°Of course there are dangerous people working the darker sides of city management¨CI met a good amount of them looking for my messenger. Though it was nice to find out that they have influence over the guards.¡±

    I nod in agreement as I stare down at my coin. ¡°Makes the messenger disappearing feel more like a planned thing, that¡¯s for sure. But why? Did the system put a bounty on your head while I wasn¡¯t here?¡±

    Illumisia shrugs. ¡°Nobody has tried to claim it if it exists. I have not shown my power to anyone, as well, so they would have no reason to fear me.¡±

    ¡°How big were you?¡±

    Her eyes trail to the top of my head. ¡°Roughly as tall as you are, with my proportions at the moment scaled up to meet it.¡±

    I snort and lean back in my chair. ¡°No reason to fear you my ass. It doesn¡¯t matter, though¨Cwe¡¯re going to find out what happened tomorrow. Maybe it¡¯ll give us some insight on how the city works, and if we can use that to our advantage.¡±

    Pearl leans against something in her shell. ¡°Do we really need this city?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s basically the starter city for all of humanity; I¡¯d say it¡¯s good to have a foothold here. Gisela and the other three must''ve been here at some point, too, so it¡¯d let us know who comes and goes.¡± I set my coin on its edge, trap it under one finger, and flick it to send it spinning. ¡°Do you think I can triple this thing? Or can I only double it, since that¡¯s physically flipping it?¡±

    The coin spins in place, humming against the wooden table as Illumisia makes a thoughtful noise deep in her throat. Nobody¡¯s immediate answer tells me that I probably can¡¯t triple it, since the act of flipping a coin is what doubles it. Just betting it on another thing would most likely triple how much it¡¯s worth¨Cnot the actual stat inside. Or maybe I¡¯m just completely wrong here. Ah, these things are pretty cheap in the scheme of things, so I guess I can afford to be a little wasteful. I¡¯ll just go out and kill something powerful tomorrow to make up the Worth.

    I smack the coin with my palm to stop it from spinning, then summon two more stat coins from my inventory. A number beside the amount of under-five coins I have stops me for a second, but I shake off the shock of seeing fifteen ready to use and set the three coins down on the table. If I can triple them, I¡¯ll have more than a few left over.

    ¡°Illumisia, think of a number between one and three.¡± I say, then tap the leftmost coin once. Then the middle one twice, and the final one three times. ¡°What number did you think of?¡±

    ¡°Three.¡± Illumisia says without hesitation.

    The left and middle coins disappear in a flash of magic. I grab the one remaining coin, feel at it with my awareness, and get perhaps the most surprising possible; it has two stat points in it. Not one, not three, but two. How the hell is that even possible?

    I frown and flip the coin over, as if that¡¯ll help anything. ¡°The hell is this?¡±

    ¡°A ripoff.¡± Illumisia suggests.

    ¡°The system messing with you again.¡± Pearl says bitterly.

    Honestly, it¡¯s just a plain mystery to me. Does this confirm that I can only double non-Worth coins by flipping them? And why the hell did the coin go to two stat points instead of being stuck at one?

    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t have worked at all.¡± I mutter and lean on my elbow. ¡°But there¡¯s no point risking it further if I can guarantee the same result with a coin toss. Is this some unwritten rule of the system? Because if it is, this is flat out bullshit.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡± Pearl and Illumisia say at the same time. They share a look, even though they shouldn¡¯t be able to see each other, and Illumisia motions for Pearl to go ahead. ¡°Thanks. Personally, I think we shouldn¡¯t even bother with it right now. The system obviously knows why this is happening, and it isn¡¯t offering an explanation. When you have way more Worth to play around with, then we should take some time to test it out.¡±

    Stolen story; please report.

    Illumisia nods. ¡°That is close enough to what I was going to say. Now Shelby, I wish to go to bed. I am quite tired.¡±

    I motion at the glass for her to go ahead. ¡°I¡¯ll be along in a while. Got to flip the rest of these stat coins so I can get all my stats up before whatever happens tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°You can do that from our room.¡± Illumisia insists as she stands and magic grabs me by the shoulders. ¡°Remember that I am but a painted dane in our host¡¯s eyes. I cannot do anything that would break the illusion. So you must come with me.¡±

    Brushing off Illumisia¡¯s magic is a labor on its own, and it feels like she¡¯s putting absolutely no effort into it. Instead of fighting a pointless fight, I sigh theatrically to make my annoyance known and follow Illumisia out of the common area. It¡¯s not like my skill recharges any faster based on which chair or couch I sit on, after all.

    <hr>

    7B/7M/10S/7F

    I nod at my stats, then send my Class Card away. I¡¯ve still got two undoubled coins that don¡¯t have a restriction, and none of my other stats gave me a threshold skill when I leveled them up. Not sure what triggers that yet, but it could be the system screwing with me. Again. I glance down at Illumisia, half expecting my newfound Mind to tell me something new, but she looks normal. Annoyed, but normal.

    ¡°This is where we were told to come, was it not?¡± She lowers her nose to the ground and takes a long sniff. ¡°It smells of cleaning chemicals and blood, though it is quite old. The timelines do not mesh.¡±

    ¡°Well, maybe your messenger didn¡¯t die here.¡±

    Illumisia shakes her head. ¡°I smell nothing but blood and chemicals. There would be far more than that if someone was killed here¨Crather than that, I would assume someone was robbed or beaten here. Which is, most likely, why our host recommended this place.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ foreboding as hell. I glance around, looking for any eyes in the dark or magical shimmers, but¨Cwait, no, there¡¯s one right there. Just a few feet away. Approaching slowly and surely. Illumisia and I share a bemused look, and I summon two ghost quarters into my hand that I fill with shields.

    ¡°Try to keep whoever this is alive¨Cactually, no, we do not need them alive.¡± Illumisia licks her lips and bares her teeth. ¡°I have their scent. We can follow it back to wherever they came from.¡±

    Probably Stonestep Solutions¡¯ headquarters. But not their public one. I nod in agreement, pretend to study a brick that¡¯s a little out of place on the wall, and brush my fingers against my leg. The brick¡¯s weirdly put in there¨Clike, it fits ninety percent perfectly, but there¡¯s a chip in it that should definitely be filled with the mortar that surrounds it. It¡¯s deep enough that there¡¯s no way someone accidentally chipped it, and if it was like that from the beginning, the mortar would¡¯ve plugged the gap.

    Magic flares to my left. I press a shield coin hard between my fingers, and put up a dome around the three of us and the magical stain. The other one just keeps me safe from the dagger that slips into visibility and steams with purple froth that smells like death and leaves an acrid taste in my mouth.

    I look up at the point of impact that didn¡¯t even manage to dent my shield. ¡°Nice try, buddy.¡±

    The stain shimmers, then collapses. Behind it is a figure cloaked completely in loose fitting black clothing, obscuring their body so much that I can¡¯t tell what species they are. Even their hand, which still clutches the dagger like it¡¯ll pierce my shield any second now, is just a formless lump of shifting black fabric. For a second I wonder if it''s even a person at all, or just some animated clothes sent to kill anyone who tries to get a closer look.

    Then it turns around, lets out a yelp of terror, and runs full-steam into my shield dome. Face-first. The echoing crack gets a wince out of me as the billowy figure crumbles to the ground, blood leaking out from the folds on the cloth around their head. I slowly stand up straight and walk over to them, prod their body with my foot, and get a writhing convulsion for my troubles.

    ¡°They just concussed themselves.¡± I say in utter disbelief. ¡°How the hell did they manage that?¡±

    Illumisia trods up to them and nudges the bloody fabric with her nose. ¡°Utter idiocy masked by unearned confidence. By the smells on this fabric, whoever is underneath has taken at least five different lives. Would you like me to end them, or shall we bring them along with us as a hostage?¡±

    ¡°Ooh, I vote for hostage!¡± Pearl says with a gleeful grin. ¡°It¡¯ll be fun watching them realize how screwed they are when we bring them to their own doorstep. Um, don¡¯t forget to check their teeth and pockets. Having them kill themselves before we get some use out of them would be disappointing.¡±

    There¡¯s that cruel streak that so rarely shows itself. I lean down and maneuver the would-be assassin¡¯s body into my arms, then drape them over Illumisia¡¯s back. Her fur shifts slightly to hold our hostage, then without waiting for anything else, she walks right through my shield like it¡¯s nothing. I blink in surprise, but shake my head a second later and follow her.

    Can¡¯t be surprised at how easily she does that. Just because she doesn¡¯t look like it at the moment, Illumisia¡¯s one of the most dangerous things on this world.

    I follow her through the streets, ignoring the strange looks everyone gives us as we pass by. More than a few of them veer off into nearby stores they definitely didn¡¯t plan on going into, and some of them beeline for guards who¡¯re meandering around. I nudge Illumisia with my knee and motion at the guards. She nods and speeds up, following a trail that I can¡¯t see further and further up into the city.

    Honestly, I wasn¡¯t expecting an assassination attempt so early. And it scares the hell out of me that this was Stonestep Solutions¡¯ initial way of dealing with someone barely looking into them. It must mean that Illumisia¡¯s messenger was involved in something way bigger than we thought¨Cor that Stonestep Solutions is just that dangerous.

    As a massive building like a giant¡¯s rib cage turned on its back and filled in with stone so thin you can see through it comes into view, I honestly don¡¯t know which possibility is more likely.

 Chapter 131: Class-Sanctioned Killers

    People bustle around the visible entrance to the building¨Can archway filled in with glass and steel that shimmers and shakes with every person that goes through. Small carvings on the stone arch spark and glitter with magic that rains down on each person, sticking to them like fresh snow and dissolving into their clothes. Nobody seems to notice¨Cor care¨Cand I¡¯m not sure which one¡¯s worse.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not really what I was expecting.¡± I say as we walk up to the doors, scaring the piss out of everyone we pass. ¡°Did this dumbass really walk out the front doors and straight to us?¡±

    Illumisia snorts with amusement. ¡°It would seem so. Should we barge in and demand a meeting with their superior?¡±

    I glance up at the upper floor, and through the glass, I see someone staring down at us. Well, more like glaring down at me in particular. She crosses her arms and points accusingly at the person on Illumisia¡¯s back, then holds up a hand for us to wait and disappears. Looks like they¡¯re coming to us.

    ¡°How convenient.¡± Pearl says sarcastically. ¡°I thought we were done with weird companies when we left Earth. Please don¡¯t get involved with this one, Shelby.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t plan on it.¡± I say as I trail the person I saw on the upper floor walk out of the entrance. ¡°Looks like the boss is here. Think she¡¯s going to try and kill us right away?¡±

    ¡°That would make things far easier.¡± Illumisia licks her lips with a vicious glimmer in her eye. ¡°Anything is preferable to bureaucracy.¡±

    The woman meets my eyes, frowns, and beelines at me through the crowd. Quite literally¨Cshe actively walks through people, her body dissolving into mist where it contacts someone else and reforming the moment she¡¯s through. She¡¯s one of those¡­ dragon-people¡­ what were they called again?

    Ytocwa. That¡¯s it. She¡¯s dressed like I¡¯d expect a powerful businesswoman to be¨Cpencil skirt, white shirt, thin glasses on a stone chain, and her own spike-heeled feet in place of shoes. Unlike the others I¡¯ve seen, most of her body is covered in scales¨Cleaving only a few patches of visible skin on her forearms and neck. And she looks pissed.

    ¡°You¨Cwhoever you are. Come with me.¡± She demands and walks right past me. Without turning to see if I¡¯m following, she continues talking. ¡°Interfering with a Class exam is a first degree violation, and assaulting said person taking their test upgrades it to a second degree. But since I have a morning full of meetings I don¡¯t want to go to, I¡¯ll be listening to your side of the story before I make a decision. Am I understood?¡±

    Wow. Assertive much? I roll my eyes and scratch Illumisia behind the ears to keep her from mauling the woman in broad daylight, then move to follow her to wherever she¡¯s taking us. Then I lean down and whisper into Illumisia¡¯s ear.

    ¡°Save it for later. We need the info more than we need the blood.¡±

    Illumisia grumbles agreement. I straighten my back and speed-walk until I¡¯m just a step behind this strange woman¨Cand the smell of her perfume finally hits me. It¡¯s an overwhelming blend of citrus and whatever spices are in gingerbread. And it¡¯s laced with magic. I sneer at the scent and wipe my nose as my awareness fights the magic, which is much more insidious than almost anything I¡¯ve seen. Until I actually smelled it I couldn¡¯t even tell there was magic in it.

    The woman finally turns her head without slowing down. ¡°You have very strong magical resistance.¡±

    Then she turns away, apparently done with one sentence. I¡¯m not a fan of her, and I¡¯ve known her for all of thirty seconds. Maybe I¡¯ll just let Illumisia maul her anyway.

    As the very real possibility bounces around in my head, we round a corner to an open-air cafe that¡¯s closely reminiscent to Whitestone Porch. A sign reads ¡®Redstone Porch¡¯, confirming the connection, and the woman hustles to a table that two other Ogean men are nearly at. Before they can sit down she snaps her fingers, and suddenly, a burst of mist puts them five steps back.

    The men share a confused look, then turn their ire on the woman. ¡°You know there are other tables here, right lady?¡±

    ¡°Yes. but I wanted this one.¡± The woman states as if it¡¯s the most logical thing in the world. ¡°Seeing as there are so many other tables, pick one. I assure you they¡¯re just as good as this one.¡±

    ¡°What¡­ I¡­ you¡­¡± One of the men trails off, then sneers. ¡°Listen here, you entitled lizard¨C¡±

    The other man grabs him by the shoulders. ¡°Not worth it, man. Let¡¯s just grab a table on the other side, far away from them.¡±

    With a shake of his shoulders and a huff, the angry Ogean glares daggers at the assassin¡¯s boss and walks right past her. Grumbles about ¡®lizard¡¯ this and ¡®old bitch¡¯ that leak from his mouth as his friend urges him on, sneaking glances back at the woman with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.

    The woman sighs and shakes her head. ¡°Such an annoyance. Well? What are you waiting for¨Can official invitation? If you are, I commend you for understanding your place. Now please take a seat. We have little to discuss and far too much time to do it.¡±

    I stare at the open seats like they¡¯re covered in caltrops. Sitting across from that woman is about the last thing I want to do right now, and if I sic Illumisia on her, I¡¯d have two Ogean men cheering me on. But, in my own words, we need info more than bloodshed right now. So I push through the biting dislike for this woman and pull up the seat directly across from her as Illlumisia lies down at my feet.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get the pointless mysteries out of the way before we begin: you may call me Rouge. I am a Scout, you may not know my clearance, and I am the direct superior of the woman on your Painted Dane¡¯s back. She was in the process of completing a task to obtain a true Class, and now that it has been interrupted, there is a great chance that she has failed.¡±

    She tilts her head slightly to the side and stares directly into my eyes. ¡°The law states that you are to be arrested and charged with interference. I have the power to do so. Explain to me why I shouldn¡¯t exercise these rights.¡±

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    I¡­ just¡­ wow. As first impressions go, this woman¡¯s getting a whopping zero out of ten for me. All that¡¯s left is for her to be a dick to the staff when they come to take our order. Not to mention the fact that her employee just tried to kill me.

    ¡°Your goddamn employee just tried to kill me. And you¡¯re blaming me for this?¡± I shake my head in disbelief. ¡°At least try to play the part of a sympathetic businesswoman before you go mask-off assassin guild leader.¡±

    Rouge bristles at that remark. ¡°We are not assassins. We are scouts. Some of us may specialize in end of life affairs, but it is not what defines us.¡±

    I bark out a humourless laugh. ¡°So what the hell was I supposed to do against your scout? If I sat back and did nothing, I¡¯d be rotting on the street with whoever died there a week or so ago.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that would be preferable. Unfortunately for the both of us, you didn¡¯t do that.¡± Rouge sighs and taps her claw-like nails against the table. ¡°Would you consent to returning to the spot, forfeiting your life, and covering up the fact that any of this ever happened?¡±

    Dude. What the actual hell is happening. I feel like I just took a bunch of pills and now nothing makes sense. Some part of me wants to believe Rouge is just screwing with me, but her tone and posture only make her seem more serious.

    ¡°No.¡±

    She sighs. ¡°I thought as much. Then I am arresting you for the interference in a Class¡¯ acquisition and the assault of said person attempting to acquire their class.¡±

    ¡°Whoah, hold up.¡± I raise my hands to get her to stop. She doesn¡¯t.

    ¡°When the guard arrives, you will relent to their demands. If you struggle, it will only add to your eventual sentencing, and will allow the use of truth-magics to extract a confession. Do you understand what I have said?¡±

    A hand falls on my shoulder, and it lights a fire of rage in my throat. My awareness tells me there¡¯s a pair of guards standing to my left and right, both cloaked in so much magic that they¡¯re nearly indistinguishable as people. But something feels¡­ off. There¡¯s no goddamn way this place just allows assassinations to happen because someone¡¯s getting a class. And there¡¯s definitely no way they¡¯d arrest me for defending myself, and proving that said person doesn¡¯t deserve a class.

    It doesn¡¯t make any sense. Absolutely none at all. Unless I think of it another way. A way that¡¯s pretty damn common on Earth, and that I¡¯d sort of hoped didn¡¯t exist here.

    ¡°You paid off the damn guards.¡± I spit with enough venom to kill an elephant. ¡°Why the hell did I agree to this in the first place? Your employee just tried to kill me. I should¡¯ve rearranged your face the second you stepped onto the street.¡±

    Rouge shrugs. ¡°You didn¡¯t seem like the sort to murder in broad daylight. You didn¡¯t even have the gumption to end the life of the assassin who was sent specifically to kill you. Though now it doesn¡¯t matter; the contract is complete, although roundabout in nature, and my part is done. Take her. They¡¯ll find her in prison.¡±

    Illumisia growls as the guard¡¯s hand digs into my shoulder. I can¡¯t even pretend to be scared; the magic pressing down on me is pathetic compared to Shout¡¯s. It¡¯s all theatrics and bullying. The only thing keeping me from turning all three of these bastards into red mist is my own damn words: we need info. But it doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t get it on my own terms.

    I lower my hands below the table, careful not to make any moves that would alert the guards, and summon a ghost quarter. Purification flows into it in a stream that leaves a salty taste in my mouth, and an overwhelming freshness that feels unbelievably raw. Another coin joins it, and in this one, I put a shield. Neither of the guards notice. Because they¡¯re goddamn useless, corrupt morons.

    ¡°Did you kill the messenger I hired?¡±

    A short, curt laugh barely escapes Rouge¡¯s lips. ¡°Of course not; killing informants is bad for business. That strange Paindne¨Cwhat was his name¡­ something childish like¡­ Cluster, I believe, was far more of a pain. He was strangely loyal to you for reasons I can¡¯t fathom.¡±

    Uh¡­ what? Is she insinuating that she killed Clutter? Because I¡¯m damn sure I just talked to him yesterday. I shoot a confused glance at Illumisia, who returns it in spades before she sniffs the air.

    ¡°Clutter is very much alive. In fact, he is waiting at Whitestone Porch for us at this very moment. He also had no scent on him that would even mildly incriminate him with what is happening here.¡± She relays silently into my mind. ¡°Either Clutter is far more prepared and devious than I first thought, or some other poor bastard named Clutter with a scout class died pointlessly.¡±

    ¡°I hope it¡¯s the first option.¡± Pearl says seriously.

    So do I, Pearl. But Rouge seems to be convinced that Clutter¡¯s dead. And the hand on my shoulder is getting a little too tight for my comfort.

    ¡°Hey, Rouge?¡± I offer her a smile full of teeth, and for the shortest of moments, she flinches away. ¡°You should really start running now.¡±

    She stands bolt upright, knocking over her chair in the process. I snap the coin with Purification in it and a ten-foot wide burst of salty, shimmering magic coats the air around me. All the magic empowerment in the hand on my shoulder fades away, replaced by muscle that¡¯s nowhere near as powerful as before. I turn and grin at the guards, one of which is trying to run away, and flare my shield.

    One pops into existence right around the guard who didn¡¯t have the wherewithal to run. I push relocation into a third coin, drop it on Illumisia, and lazily turn as she flashes to the fleeing guard in a whirl of cherry red. My world shifts, and just as I push a shield into another coin, the guard whirls on me and brings down a hammer that wasn¡¯t there a second ago.

    Instinctively, I call on another coin and fill it with a projectile. Wth the extra control being Fleur¡¯s god affords me, I wrap the roiling magic around the guard¡¯s arm and tear it clean off, armor and all. He screams bloody murder, yelling into his helmet for backup, and I grab him by the back of his neck and drag him into the purification field before imprisoning him as well.

    Of course, Rouge is nowhere to be seen. But I¡¯m not worried about that; she¡¯s just going to whoever her boss is. That¡¯s the person I want to watch Illumisia rip to bloody shreds. After torturing the info on who put a hit on me out of them, of course.

    ¡°Efficient. Well done.¡± Illumisia praises me as she walks up next to the armless guard. He whimpers and flinches away. ¡°I have the woman¡¯s scent. If she never returns from reporting to her boss, we will know her final whereabouts. Give it two days and she will lead us straight to them.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. And you still have the assassin.¡± I laugh and pat the unconscious woman on the head. ¡°We¡¯ll bring her up with us before we go see Clutter. Maybe Miss S will recognize her from¨C¡±

    Before I can finish, ribbons of magic blow in on a soft breeze. My blood goes cold as I recognize where they came from, and for the shortest of moments, I really, really hope I wasn¡¯t misunderstanding the situation.

    Because I sure as hell don¡¯t want the Horizonguard I met months ago as my enemy.

 Chapter 132: The Start of a New Trail

    The Horizonguard materializes from her ribbons, which spin and unfurl around nothing until she¡¯s completely there. Standing a few feet away from me, her arms crossed, and her head tilted to the side. I push down the urge to instantly make excuses, quietly swallow around the lump in my throat, and nudge Illumisia with the side of my foot.

    ¡°If she attempts to attack you, I will be ready.¡± She assures me. ¡°Do whatever you can to steer this situation in a direction that benefits us.¡±

    Knowing Illumisia¡¯s got my back is a huge weight off my chest, but it¡¯s not enough. The Horizonguard still hasn¡¯t said a word or moved an inch since she got here. Like she¡¯s waiting for me to start. Depending on how much Rouge said was true¡­ this could turn very bloody very fast.

    So I might as well come out swinging. ¡°If a Class trial tells someone to murder another person, is that legal?¡±

    Stillness wracks the air and my mind. It feels like a thousand years pass between my question and the smack of lips that starts the Horizonguard¡¯s answer.

    ¡°Unfortunately, yes. The system gives out quests, and as long as the Class-bearer sticks to the word of the quest, it is perfectly legal.¡± The Horizonguard says easily. ¡°In all technicality, what that woman told you was perfectly true. Except for one glaring hole in her logic; anyone going for a class is not guaranteed to succeed. If a mage couldn¡¯t cast a spell, would you arrest the spell for not being cast? Or what if a defender failed to contain a dust explosion? For the scout on your Painted Dane, you were her explosion. Sure, you stopped her from getting her class, but that just means she failed.¡±

    The Horizonguard walks up to me and gently traces her fingers over my neck. My awareness reacts, but for some reason, I don¡¯t feel any danger in it at all. Nor any affection. Just¡­ idle motions, like someone tapping their foot as they think or clicking a pen over and over.

    ¡°Personally, I¡¯m against anyone who accepts a trial that involves murdering anybody. So I keep an eye on who gets what. As long as they¡¯re within Palastia¡¯s walls, I can watch them as sure as they breathe.¡± She moves away, trailing one finger that seems to hold a thin strand of glittering magic. ¡°When I saw the target was you, I thought it would be interesting to see how you reacted. But then you started talking about other things, and led me right to something that¡¯s been bugging me for years now. Too bad my colleague runs it, so I can¡¯t really do anything about it.¡±

    I tense up as she casually tosses the strand to the side. ¡°A Horizonguard runs Stonestep Solutions?¡±

    She nods. ¡°Of course. How else would they operate right under my nose so easily?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ shit.¡± I hiss as Illumisia bristles. ¡°That means I¡¯m beyond screwed.¡±

    ¡°What? No, no, you¡¯ve got this all wrong.¡± She laughs and waves of my worry. ¡°He¡¯s my colleague, which means we¡¯re on equal footing. Do you think he actually accepts every request that gets sent to him while also working full-time as a horizonguard? It¡¯s one of his lackeys, and he¡¯ll throw him out a hundred story building before he ever admits to Stonestep Solutions being bent. So you might want to find them before that happens. Oh, and let me take these two off your hands.¡±

    The Horizonguard snaps her fingers, and the two guards instantly dissolve into thousands of tiny ribbons. They try to flow away on the wind, but they just smack and batter helplessly against my shields.

    ¡°Could you drop them?¡±

    I nod and call off my shields. The ribbons flutter away, leaving trails of magic through the sky as they go. The horizonguard pays them absolutely no heed; her mask¡¯s still locked on me. Absolutely and completely.

    ¡°Your friend and Stolutions are both looking into the same thing. There¡¯s a chance the order to eliminate you came from that angle, and not whatever else you¡¯re thinking of. Or maybe not. I¡¯m not watching everywhere at the same time.¡± Her armor clinks as she shrugs, and the stone under her feet brightens ever so slightly. ¡°If you can get into the group for the quest when it becomes available, I¡¯d say that¡¯s your best bet at getting real answers. My colleague will probably be joining, too, but I can guarantee you you¡¯ll be safe from him.¡±

    That¡¯s one hell of a guarantee that I don¡¯t trust. ¡°How the hell can you guarantee that? And what¡¯s a ¡®Stolutions¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Stolutions. First three letters of the first word, all the letters of the second. ¡®Stolutions¡¯. As for the guarantee, all I can tell you is that he won¡¯t get his own hands dirty. His workers might not feel the same, but he won¡¯t. Simply put, you¡¯re not worth it yet; he¡¯s got Stonesteps in every city and you¡¯re just a neat little anomaly who hasn¡¯t proven herself yet.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve¡­¡± I trail off as I come to the realization that I haven¡¯t done jack shit in this world. That has to change soon.

    She seems to mistake my silence as agreement. Which, I mean, isn¡¯t technically wrong. Her magic whirls around her legs, transforming everything from the middle of her thighs down into fluttering ribbons, and she floats a dozen feet into the air.

    ¡°That¡¯s all the time I have for now. Personally, I¡¯d recommend pushing your Paindne friend a little harder to do his thing. The quest starts in two days, and he isn¡¯t quite there yet, but he¡¯s extremely close. If he keeps digging, he might make it with barely any time to spare. Or help him out and guarantee it¨Cdo whatever you want.¡±

    I frown up at her and shield my eyes from the sun. ¡°How do you know when the quest¡¯s going to start?¡±

    ¡°Because my colleague already has access to it, and I¡¯ve been spying on him. Good luck! I¡¯m cheering for you!¡±

    Before I can say anything, the rest of her turns into ribbons and flutters away. I grimace and look down at Illumisia, who returns the look with slightly less confusion than I feel. A groan from the would-be assassin on her back puts a stop to whatever conversation might¡¯ve been there before it began, and I motion in the direction we¡¯re supposed to go to meet Clutter.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Without a word, Illumisia turns and starts walking. Something rises from her fur, like a mist of shimmering silver vapor, and the woman goes limp once more. I look around as I take a deep breath, not quite sure what to make of what just happened. Someone hired Stonestep Solutions to kill me. They¡¯re also going after the same quest Clutter¡¯s apparently on the heels of. And, for some reason, Illumisia¡¯s contact already worked for them¨Cor at least worked with them. We still don¡¯t know where they are, either, or if they¡¯re even part of this.

    Was all this just some massive string of coincidences? Do these people even know that the system has a grudge against me? Hell, Clutter could be the source of all this, and we¡¯re just collateral damage.

    The thought is¡­ weirdly comforting. I can deal with people having their own agendas; it¡¯s the all-powerful world spanning system that I¡¯m worried about. The system hasn¡¯t tried to screw with me since I got here¨Cmaybe it needs to wait for something. And a quest that was already in place since before I got here could possibly be the safest place for me to get stronger.

    ¡°We need to protect Clutter.¡±

    Illumisia looks back at me. ¡°Of course we do. We employed him, and if we let him die, his death would be on our hands.¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah, but for other reasons.¡± I say and walk up next to her, scratching her head as I walk by. ¡°Depending on what happens, we might need to protect Nib too. Hopefully not, but who knows? The system might do something to her to get at me.¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°I doubt it¨CNib is just a researcher. The system would put a stop to whoever¡¯s making the forgeries of our tech before it goes after her.¡±

    I agree with everything she just said. But I also don¡¯t want to count anything out that might lead to someone getting pointlessly hurt. A quiet whimper barely hits my ears, and I turn with a raised eyebrow to see the two Ogean men barely peeking over their table. Honestly, I completely forgot about them.

    ¡°Sorry about the show.¡± I offer them a closed-mouth smile and a wave. ¡°But hey, at least the asshole got put in her place, right?¡±

    One of them chuckles weakly, and the other smacks him on the back of the head with a hiss of warning. They both duck back under the table, and a small amused smile pulls at my lips at their fear. It¡¯s just so¡­ human. Almost makes this place feel like a second home, not some world filled with adventure and endless possibility.

    Before I can get comfortable, the heavy scent of blood digs deep into my nostris. Illumisia whips around and stares at something over my shoulder, the corner of her mouth rising in a growl as her eyes trace a pattern to follow something. Slowly and cautiously I turn my head, and in the breeze, blood red ribbons dance on the breeze.

    ¡°Did the Horizonguard..?¡± I trail off in disbelief.

    A voice brushes against my ear. ¡°Of course not. These are for your Painted Dane; tell her to watch out for these scents. They are your enemies.¡±

    The ribbons gently swirl around me, dancing like they aren¡¯t made of blood and magic, then converge to a single point inches from my chest. They fall into my hands like bloody party streamers, and I almost instinctively throw them away. But Illumisia hops up, grabs them in her mouth, and swallows before I can do anything.

    I stare at her as she licks her lips. ¡°That¡¯s disgusting.¡±

    ¡°It was, for a moment. Now it is done.¡± She states and turns away. ¡°Let us leave. I will inform you if any one of the owners of these scents comes close to us.¡±

    ¡°Yuck.¡± Pearl murmurs. ¡°Sometimes she makes me wonder if she actually has taste buds. But I¡¯ve seen her send back food she didn¡¯t like¡­ so¡­ I don¡¯t really know.¡±

    ¡°Neither do I. And I don¡¯t really think I want to find out.¡±

    <hr>

    It takes about half an hour to get to Whitestone Porch. Illumisia has to knock out our prisoner multiple times over the course of said half hour, and with every disturbed look we get, I wonder if it¡¯s worth keeping her out of it. I field the suggestion to just let her wake up and walk her like a normal person, but Illumisia shoots me down every time. She thinks the would-be assassin has another trick up her sleeve.

    So, since our opinions are totally equal, Pearl becomes the deciding vote. She votes against me in a second, but won¡¯t tell me why she agrees with Illumisia. I¡¯m starting to think the woman has, like, a suicide pill on her that everyone but me can sense. Or a teleportation scroll. Which we could just take from her, but no. Apparently she needs to stay knocked out.

    Another hour passes at Whitestone Porch. Nothing important comes from the conversation, which I don¡¯t really take part in because the place is so much busier than the one Rouge took me to. Can¡¯t be seen talking to myself while Pearl and Illumisia use my brain as their own private phone line.

    Just as I¡¯m about to try and develop telepathy of my own with sheer force of will, my awareness latches onto something invisible a few dozen feet out. I barely have to take a glance to see that it¡¯s Clutter, carefully maneuvering around everyone so he doesn¡¯t bump into them. Not like Rouge, who just walked straight through people. He must be a lot weaker than she is if that¡¯s one of their class specialties.

    Before he even sits down, I lock eyes with where my awareness tells me his are and offer him a toothy grin. ¡°About time you showed up.¡±

    He twitches, and his invisibility completely fades away. ¡°How did you know I was here?¡±

    ¡°Same way I do pretty much everything; magic.¡± I waggle my fingers for effect, then lean back in my chair. ¡°So, we just had a run-in with someone who thinks you¡¯re dead. Did you get ambushed recently?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Twice, I think?¡± He purses his lips in thought as he sits across from me. ¡°There was yesterday, almost a month ago, and¡­ does the thing that happened a week and a half ago count? I don¡¯t know; it was either two or three times. But I think I finally managed to fool them yesterday.¡±

    I raise my eyebrows in surprise. ¡°What happened last night?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it was nothing. I just woke up with a knife to my throat.¡± He mimes putting a knife to his throat, then slashes it with a wet squelch. ¡°Luckily I had a few spells ready for just this kind of thing, so they thought I died. I guess it won¡¯t last very long, since I¡¯m out here talking and walking in public.¡±

    ¡°¡­Alright. You¡¯re a little too okay with this, but alright. You know who tried to do it?¡±

    He nods his head vigorously. ¡°Stonestep Solutions. The same people who tried to kill me almost two weeks ago, but not the ones from a month ago. At least I don¡¯t think they were¨Cmaybe they were? Sorry, I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, I¡­¡± I watch with a sigh as Clutter tenses up and nearly shrinks into himself. ¡°Clutter, you need to get a little self confidence. Hell, I need you to get some self confidence, because apparently the quest you¡¯re looking into is tied to all this. So let¡¯s hear the details.¡±

    The mention of the quest perks him right back up¨Calmost like his cowardice is completely forgotten now. He pulls something out of his inventory, slaps it on the table, and proudly preens as I stare at the chunk of writing plastic that looks like it¡¯s trying to kill itself. Sure, it¡¯s bigger than what he showed me before, but it doesn¡¯t look like progress to me.

    ¡°Explain.¡±

 Chapter 133: Starway to Plastic Rock

    Clutter visibly deflates at my suspicion. The poor guy looks like I just blew out the candles on his birthday cake and cut the corner piece that he wanted. He really needs to learn how to take mild disappointment. And explain himself better.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d be more excited. Your messages sounded excited.¡± He looks down at the table and his tail droops down to the ground. ¡°I worked really hard at this, you know?¡±

    I sigh and shake my head. ¡°Clutter. You have to¨Cand I mean have to¨Clearn to talk better. Let¡¯s¡¯ start with you giving me the run down on why this is more important than the other stuff you showed me, yeah?¡±

    He nods slowly, his eyes nervously rising to meet mine. ¡°Okay. The things I showed you last time were just little deposits I pulled out of some rocks I found. But this huge glob¨CI found it in a huge boulder at the top of a mountain. It was like a geode filled with writing plasticy stuff.¡±

    ¡°Plasticy stuff. You don¡¯t have a name for it?¡±

    He shakes his head.

    ¡°Nope. It wasn¡¯t in the system, so it¡¯s something that hasn¡¯t been discovered yet¨Cor at least the system doesn¡¯t want me to think it''s been discovered yet.¡± Clutter¡¯s eyes start to twinkle just a little bit, and his tail wags ever so slightly. ¡°I¡¯ve tried making things with it, but it won¡¯t do anything. Not even when I do normal things with it. The quest must be to find where all this stuff comes from.¡±

    Makes sense to me. ¡°So how does you finding a bigger glob get you closer to finding the quest?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s easy; I have a friend doing geological analysis on the rock itself. Once that comes back from the lab, we¡¯ll know generally where it came from. Then we just go there and poof¨Cwe have the quest.¡± He smiles, his tail almost going full speed. ¡°I bet there¡¯s something else we have to do with the plastic stuff before we can get the quest, like making a bracelet or a seal or something, but I won¡¯t know until I can see the origin of the boulder with my own two eyes.¡±

    Huh. That¡¯s¡­ actually pretty smart thinking. If I knew more about geology, then maybe I¡¯d be able to tell if his plan¡¯s actually going to work, but then you throw magic in with it¡­ yeah, I¡¯ll just leave this to him. I doubt he¡¯s working with Nib right now, since geology isn¡¯t exactly her field, but weirder things have happened. Much, much weirder things.

    ¡°Oh, do you want me to take you to the boulder?¡± He stands bolt upright without waiting for my answer, his tail wagging up a storm. ¡°I put a thing there that lets me get there super easily! And it¡¯ll let me show you some of my magic! Can we go? Please?¡±

    There¡¯s the one-eighty in personality. I chuckle to myself as I stand then nod at Clutter, who almost vibrates out of his fur in excitement. ¡°Lead the way, my sharky friend.¡±

    A giddy grin splits his face, bearing teeth very similar to mine, yet somehow less intimidating. He reaches out a hand with an open palm, motioning excitedly for me to grab it. Seeing no reason not to trust my easily excitable and just as easily disappointed friend, I grab his strangely-textured palm and open my awareness to let whatever spell he¡¯s about to use in.

    Buzzing warmth like a carbonated drink that¡¯s been left out in the sun for too long shoots up my arm in thin lines like spider silk. I shudder at the strange sensation, which Clutter seems not to notice, because he definitely would¡¯ve been disappointed with my reaction. Instead, he stares straight through me as his eyes take on a pattern like an endless constellation of spider webs. Some part of me recognizes a specific point as Palastia. Almost none of the others feel like anything, save for three or four that are completely foreign.

    His shifting eyes stop on a dime, and he refocuses on me completely. Both of his pupils are locked in on the exact same ¡®star¡¯, and he shakes with excitement as the fizzy magic slowly spreads over the rest of my body. And I do mean slowly; it takes a whole two minutes for his spell to coat my body, and even then it doesn¡¯t feel complete. I take the opportunity to push relocation into two coins and drop them for Illumisia. She accepts the targeting for one, and takes the one connected to me in her mouth.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be back soon¨Cwith or without Clutter.¡± Pearl assures her. ¡°Hopefully with a brand new quest to complete!¡±

    Illumisia nods as I bend down to pick up her coin. ¡°If you need to kill a lot of people, summon me to your location instead of risking a return. There will be far less collateral damage that way.¡±

    With a flick of the coin through my fingers and a smile, I feel Clutter¡¯s magic finally take hold. Illumisia and Palastia melt away into a blur of colours and sensations, but it doesn¡¯t feel like my relocations. This feels more¡­ tangible. Almost like a tunnel connecting where we just were to wherever Clutter¡¯s taking us. I raise a hand and brush my fingers against a floating patch of colour. Clutter yelps and covers his ears.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t do that.¡± He whines from behind his hands. ¡°Anything you do in here gets amplified a lot and returned to me. So¡­ um¡­ please don¡¯t leave the path or do anything else.¡±

    I tilt my head to the side, then look down. Sure enough, there¡¯s a path under my feet that leads off into the distance. It looks like it¡¯s made out of spider silk, carbonation, and the spray that shoots from a wave crashing up against a breakwater.

    ¡°Alright.¡± I say, which gets another yelp from Clutter. ¡°Sounds too?¡±

    He nods weakly. ¡°I can talk, but other people can¡¯t. Well, you can, but¡­ um¡­ please don¡¯t?¡±

    I nod silently and make a zipping motion across my lips. Clutter stares at me blankly. And since he wants me to be quiet, I can¡¯t explain it to him. So instead I roll my eyes and gesture for him to lead the way. Which he does. While rambling about everything he did that led to him finding the first bits of plastic, and then the big boulder.

    Most of it is complete filler. What the weather was like, who he was exploring with, even the different places he found them¨Cnothing gives me anything to work with for what the quest¡¯s going to be. When he shifts to talking with his geologist friend I listen a little closer, but soon enough, it becomes obvious Clutter doesn¡¯t really know anything yet. Though I did learn his friend¡¯s name is Dizzy¨Cwhich is adorable¨Cand that he¡¯s a Paindne that¡¯s a foot taller than Clutter is and built like a brick shithouse.

    Honestly, that makes it even more adorable. And finally, after what feels like half an hour of silently listening, Clutter gets to the important part¨Chow he found the big boulder. The first half of the story is pretty meaningless, since it¡¯s just lead up, but with one sentence he captures my full attention.

    ¡°So anyway, after I almost got assassinated, I found the big rock on top of Stargazer Plateau.¡± He says casually, as if it was less important than his very detailed lunch he just told me about. ¡°There¡¯s a pretty big reservoir in there that collects rainwater, and a bunch of us Paindne like to go there to watch the stars and swim. I dove to the bottom and rummaged around looking for cool rocks, and would you know it, there was a little wiggling strand of plastic sticking out of the bottom!¡±

    I raise both my eyebrows in surprise. Half at the fact that one of the assassination attempts was right before he found the plastic, and half at the fact that he found it when he wasn¡¯t even specifically searching for it. I want to open my mouth and ask why the hell he didn¡¯t mention that in any of his messages, but honestly, that could just derail him. Might as well listen to everything and take it in as Clutter sees.

    ¡°Then a bunch of us dove down to the bottom and tried yanking the thing out. But instead of coming free, it just got longer and longer and longer! Dizzy¨CI told you about Dizzy already, right? Well, Dizzy held onto it and got out of the water, tied it around a big rock, and then used his magic on it. We all expected a big wad of the stuff to come out, but instead, it ripped a giant boulder straight out of the reservoir with a huge SPLOOSH!¡±

    He throws his hands up while making a ¡®thbbpt¡¯ noise with his mouth to try and capture just how big the ¡®sploosh¡¯ was. It gets across, and not just because I have to wipe Paindne slobber off my left shoulder and part of my neck and face. He doesn¡¯t notice and goes right back to his story.

    ¡°Anyway, Dizzy and I agreed that we should leave it there just in case it¡¯s important to the quest. We cracked it open and found a bunch of the stuff, all of it half gooey but solid enough to¡­ um¡­ be solid. I showed you one of the big chunks we took away, but there¡¯s a lot more still in the boulder.¡±

    Pearl coughs in disbelief as if she¡¯d been caught mid-sip of water. I feel my own eyes widen as well, but I should keep quiet to protect Clutter. Even if he just did something incrediblyl stupid. With the stuff I kind of hired him to be on the lookout for.

    ¡­Yeah, nope, not staying quiet for this one. ¡°You left the damn open boulder on the mountain?¡±

    Clutter winces. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s not a problem? Even after you were almost assassinated minutes before you found it?¡± I hiss as quietly as possible. ¡°How can¡¯t you see the issue here?¡±

    ¡°Well, we left behind something to defend it. But¡­ well¡­ okay, I probably should¡¯ve made the connection between the assassination attempt and us finding the rock. It''s still there, though! Or else Dizzy would¡¯ve messaged me!¡±

    I grumble in dissatisfaction, but decide to hold my tongue. Dizzy obviously has a piece of the rock to study. Even if the rest of it is gone, we¡¯ve still got enough to go on. Clutter fidgets nervously as I glare daggers at him, and for the rest of the walk, he¡¯s silent except for a few half-hearted excuses that it doesn¡¯t even sound like he believes.

    ¡°We¡¯re¡­ um¡­ here.¡± He says as the path flashes under my feet, then shifts and twists into a perfect circle. The center disappears in a flash, and below, I see perfectly clear water. ¡°It¡¯s a little wet, so¨C¡±

    I hold up a hand to stop him and walk up to the exit. A shield coin makes me a platform to walk down on, and once I¡¯m out of whatever Clutter¡¯s magic was, I look up to make sure he¡¯s following. There¡¯s just a¡­ hole in the sky above the reservoir with shimmering strands of magic trailing way off into the distance that¡¯re so subtle I would¡¯ve overlooked them without my awareness.

    ¡°What¡¯re you waiting for?¡± I ask as Clutter carefully puts his foot onto my shield. ¡°We¡¯ve got work to do.¡±

    He gingerly steps down, eyes darting about, and scurries to stand with me at the edge of the reservoir. A sigh of relief escapes his lips as both his spell and my shield disappear, then he turns to gesture at a¡­ holy shit, that¡¯s a huge boulder. A huge boulder that¡¯s made of perfectly hexagonal facets, one of which has been removed to reveal a mass of multicoloured plastics inside.

    ¡°Here it is.¡± Clutter says proudly. ¡°Eighteen feet tall, eighteen feet wide, and it¡¯s a perfect one-foot thick layer of rock around a core of that plastic stuff. If this can¡¯t lead us to the quest, nothing will.¡±

    I look the boulder up and down with a strange mixture of awe and discomfort. ¡°It better. We¡¯ve barely got any time to spare.¡±

 Chapter 134: Be More Specific

    As the rising sun beats down on us, with Clutter standing proudly next to the rock, a sense of unease worms its way into my heart. Staring at the strange plastic-like¡­ stuff¡­ inside is just so against anything I¡¯m used to. But it shouldn¡¯t be. I¡¯ve seen way weirder stuff than this. So why is this bothering me?

    I scratch my chin and lean in close to the boulder. A soft squelching barely emerges from the plastic, quiet enough that I only feel it through my awareness. If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say it was alive. But Clutter put it in his inventory, which should go against it being anything close to that¨Csince I highly doubt the system despises this random plastic stuff as much as it hates Pearl.

    ¡°So? What do you think?¡± Clutter raises his chin with pride. ¡°You can dig into the core and pull out a few handfuls of the plastic stuff for yourself. It¡¯s probably going to be super important for the quest.¡±

    Can¡¯t really debate that. Even though I really want to¨Csticking my hands into a mass of¡­ partially molten plastic¡­ isn¡¯t really my idea of fun. But I¡­ shit, why am I so against this? Is the damn stuff putting out a signal to make me nervous about it? That¡¯s¡­ actually completely possible. More than possible, even, and I¡¯m just a little too sensitive to magic so I get hit with it and Clutter doesn¡¯t.

    I flip a coin into my fingers and push purification into it. The salty magic bursts free in an instant, and all the sensations slip away. It feels like I¡¯m finally staring at the mass of plastic for the first time¡ªand wondering why the hell it has a defence mechanism against specifically magically sensitive people.

    ¡°Clutter, did you feel anything weird with this thing?¡±

    He tilts his head to the side in thought. ¡°I think so? It made me feel a little icky when I stood too close, but when I pulled some plastic out, it went away. A bunch of the other Paindne said they didn¡¯t feel anything, so I didn¡¯t bother bringing it up.¡±

    ¡°Those other Paindne¨Cdid they have classes?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Well, not stat-related classes, you know; just the base ¡®class¡¯. Oh, except for Dizzy and a few of his friends. They¡­ all said they felt something, too.¡± Clutter pauses as realization lights his face. ¡°Oh. It only did something to people with real classes. That makes so much sense. Do you think I¡¯m already on the list for the quest just from taking some plastic? Was it trying to entice us into taking it?¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s enticement, then I¡¯ve been doing it wrong my entire life.¡± I chuckle and stick my hand into the mass. It squelches around my fingers, but when I grab down, it pulls away like pastry dough. ¡°Ick, yuck, I hate that.¡±

    Clutter leans down and peers into the boulder. ¡°You do? I thought it felt kind of nice.¡±

    ¡°To each their own, I guess.¡± I mutter as I toss the heart-sized lump from hand to hand. It¡¯s pure orange¨Cthe colour of Fleur¡¯s inner glow. ¡°How the hell did this happen? All the stuff in there is a weird swirl of unmixing colour.¡±

    ¡°I have no idea.¡± Clutter says proudly. ¡°Each of the colours comes away on its own for some reason, and even though it sticks to the other stuff, it won¡¯t ever mix. The makeup¡¯s exactly the same for all the colours, though, so it shouldn¡¯t be doing this.¡±

    I send the lump into my inventory and reach in for a second. ¡°It¡¯s probably some weird enchantment keeping it from mixing. Or maybe there¡¯s an extremely minor difference that whatever equipment you used couldn¡¯t detect.¡±

    This time, I take hold of a clump of deep azure stuff that feels exactly like the orange. It seems like there should be a difference, but there really isn¡¯t. I pull out my Class Card in my open hand, swipe over to my inventory, and send the plastic lump into it. Instead of going into a new, open square, it just¡­ disappears.

    I frown and scan my slots just in case I missed something. The first few scans show absolutely nothing, but upon closer look, it¡¯s there. In the same slot as the orange lump, swirled together without ever mixing. I pull it out and hold the larger lump in one hand, staring at it with obvious suspicion as if it¡¯d suddenly jump away.

    Obviously it doesn¡¯t. And after a minute I put it back and send my Class Card away with a sigh and a shake of my head.

    ¡°So the system even sees it as the same thing. Then why won¡¯t it mix? Why¡¯s there even more than one colour?¡± I shove my hand back into the mass and dig deep as dozens of colours shift by. ¡°There¡¯s gotta be something even slightly important here that we¡¯re missing. Is there less of one colour? Does one go into a different slot than all the others? Is one specific colour missing?¡±

    Clutter shakes his head. ¡°We already did all that. There was a perfectly equal amount of all the colours, they all go into the same inventory slot, and the boulder keeps regenerating whatever we take out. If we still need to find something for the quest, it isn¡¯t here.¡±

    ¡°Which is why you have Dizzy working on it.¡± I nod and step away, shaking my hand to get the plasticy sensation off. ¡°What about the smaller rocks you found the plastic in? Those stayed in strands, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they did. But they all went into the same inventory slot. Here, let me show you.¡± Clutter raises both his hands, then summons the plastic. His right fills with worm-like strands, and his left fills with a lump. ¡°These both go in the same slot, but I have to pull them out separately. I can¡¯t make the lump turn into strands, and I can¡¯t make the strands go into the lump.¡±

    That sounds like a very important thing to mention. I have no idea why, but it¡¯s definitely part of this. Maybe¡­ hrm. If there¡¯s two kinds of plastic already, how many other kinds are there? Do we need to find all of them to get in on the quest?

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    I reach up and tap Pearl¡¯s shell to get her input. She lets out a long breath and shrugs.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me¨Cthis doesn¡¯t have anything to do with the Shellraisers. Whatever this stuff is wasn¡¯t around way back when.¡± She frowns, then cutely tilts her head to the side. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s a clue? The system had to have put the stuff in somewhere, so whatever the quest is, it¡­ um¡­ honestly, I¡¯m kind of grasping at straws here. Sorry.¡±

    With a shake of my head, Pearl goes right back to watching. Clutter somehow didn¡¯t notice any of that, since he¡¯s too preoccupied with the plastic, but it does bring up the question; what kind of quest are we getting ourselves into? Is it the venture into a dungeon to find riches kind, or the long research-driven discovery kind? Because I¡¯m definitely more into the first option.

    ¡°Alright. You¡¯ve obviously got a few other leads, Clutter. Lay them on me. I don''t care how speculative they are, or if they¡¯re even possible to follow-up on¨Cwe don¡¯t have the time to worry about that shit.¡±

    He snaps off a very serious salute, then pulls out his Class Card and flips through it. ¡°There¡¯s five things I haven¡¯t investigated yet; everything else was a dead end. Four of them are possible to do, and I don¡¯t know anyone with high enough clearance for the fifth. Do you still want to hear all of them?¡±

    I shoot him a flat, unamused look. He fidgets and looks away as he clears his throat, and in one rambling go, he belts out the options.

    ¡°Right. Okay. Sorry. The first thing is a report from a camp in the west that detailed a river that looked like someone dumped melted crayons into it. Second is a kid who apparently saw a tall thing walking on two spindly legs above really tall grains in one of the farms around Palastia. Third is a jewelry shop that sold three gemstones that looked just like the plastic¨Cbut they were apparently as hard as diamonds. And fourth¨Cwhich I don¡¯t really want to look into¨Cis a bulging grave at the cemetery where a colourful worm popped through the soil.¡±

    He pauses to take a breath deep enough to push out his chest, then continues.

    ¡°They¡¯re all still hearsay, and I just haven¡¯t gotten around to checking on them yet. From all the thirty-eight leads I looked into before this, only four helped at all¨Cone to track the small rocks with plastic, two to talk to people who bought it from random people, and one last one that led me to right here. Well, not right here, since I didn¡¯t actually find the boulder until about a week afterwards and completely at random. Oh, and the fifth one is a rumor that someone in the horizonguard already knows how to start the quest. But I don¡¯t know anyone who can confirm¨C¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± I cut in.

    ¡°W-what?¡± He stutters, his flow completely destabilized by my sudden interjection. ¡°You¡­ it¡¯s¡­ w-what?¡±

    ¡°Like I said; it¡¯s true. There¡¯s a horizonguard that knows how to start the quest. Or, well, he knows how to get into the quest¨Cthe start date is apparently the same no matter what.¡± I raise an eyebrow at Clutter. ¡°Didn¡¯t you get that from how many times I said ¡®we¡¯re running short on time¡¯?¡±

    Clutter laces his fingers together and looks down at the ground. ¡°That¡¯s bad. That¡¯s really bad. I thought we had more time, but if we don¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m not close enough to the answer. Or maybe I am, and I just don¡¯t know it, but that doesn¡¯t matter at all, does it? We could be walking right around the answer and if we don¡¯t know it we¡¯re still technically not close at all to finding out the truth.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Sounds about right to me. So we need to get moving right now.¡±

    Before Clutter can start on another worry-filled tirade, I pull out a coin and ready Twist Fate. I really need to experiment some more to see how far I can get ¡®likely¡¯ to stretch by its definition, but for right now, I can cut out search options down to two. I focus on the first and second options Clutter said¨Cthe crayon river and the monster in the farms¨Cand flick the coin into the air.

    ¡°Heads for river, tails for farm. Best to¡­¡± I pause as the coin hits its apex. Let¡¯s try something else. ¡°Best for me to find the plastic quest.¡±

    Twist Fate.

    Heads or Tails.

    Best or Worst.

    It¡¯s never as clean as black or white.

    Call it.

    I frown as the world slows to a crawl. ¡°Best for me to find the plastic quest.¡±

    Wording incompatible.

    Please rephrase the desired outcome.

    Oh, so the newly-evolved skill is a stickler for grammar. That¡¯s going to be annoying later on. Actually¡­ maybe it might let me get a little more specific with my requests. Another thing to add to the list of experiments, I guess. After taking a moment to think on exactly how to phrase this, I clear my throat and stare directly at the frozen coin.

    ¡°Point me towards the lead that¡¯s the most likely to get me access to the quest.¡±

    Please specify which ¡®quest¡¯ you are attempting to access.

    ¡°The quest associated with the plasticy stuff in the boulder.¡±

    Understood.

    The coin slams into my upturned palm as the world returns to normal. Clutter flinches away with a yelp, and I quickly glance down at the coin as I ready to flip it again. It landed on tails, meaning the monster in the farm is a better lead than the river. Then again, it could mean it¡¯s a better lead¨Cnot necessarily the right one. I flick the coin into the air again.

    ¡°Heads for jewelry store, tails for graveyard.¡±

    Twist Fate reactivated.

    Make your request.

    I repeat exactly what I said to the system the last time, and no more text appears. The coin slams back down into my palm, and¨C

    Sharp pain lances through my palm. I wince as blood wells up under the coin, and Clutter scurries up to me with blatant concern in his eyes. He grabs my hand and pulls it close to his face before I can get a look at how the coin landed.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Clutter. Just a little blood.¡± I assure him. ¡°I¡¯ll heal in a few minutes as long as it isn¡¯t too deep.¡±

    He doesn¡¯t let go. ¡°That¡¯s a weird coin.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I pull my hand away to get a good look. ¡°...Oh. What the hell.¡±

    Staring up at me from inside a pool of growing blood is my coin. Split perfectly down the middle, with one half showing tails and the other showing heads.

 Chapter 135: Fifty-Fifty Split

    The bloody coin rests in my hand like a baby bird in a visceral nest. I carefully reach down to pull it away, and with a sharp jolt of pain, it comes away effortlessly. My skin underneath is mangled and twisted in a perfect circle, but it doesn¡¯t look like a deep wound. It still makes Clutter retch and look away, but I know my body will heal it soon enough. And hey, if not, that¡¯s what potions are for.

    I wipe the coin on my forearm, then hold it to the light. There¡¯s no seam. It¡¯s perfectly stitched together at the middle point, to the level that I would¡¯ve thought it was made this way if I didn¡¯t see what it looked like before. How the hell did it do that? And why¡¯s my hand hurt in a circle if only one half did the break-and-reattach?

    ¡°Damn, should¡¯ve been watching this a little closer.¡± I sigh as I pocket the coin. There¡¯s no flipping it anymore, so it¡¯s just a research piece now. ¡°Alright¨CI¡¯m going to assume that means option three and four have perfectly equal chances to bring us closer to the quest. Do you think that means they¡¯re both a waste of time, or that they¡¯re both good options?¡±

    I turn to look at Clutter. He stares back at me with a strange expression; best I can describe it is the look you¡¯d get watching a gross, yet oddly satisfying video.

    ¡°Clutter? You still with me?¡±

    He starts, as if just now registering that I was talking to him, and nods vigorously. ¡°Yes! Yes, I¡¯m still here mentally and physically. And I¡¯m not going to ask what you did to that coin, because I don¡¯t want to know the answer. Where are we checking out first? Or¡­ we didn¡¯t already decide that, did we?¡±

    I shake my head. He silently sighs with relief. ¡°Nope; we¡¯re doing that right now. Farm, jewelry store, and graveyard are all worth checking out. Before you ask how I know, it¡¯s because of the thing you don¡¯t want to know the answer to.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s check out the graveyard first, since it¡¯s the furthest away.¡± He grabs my hand, and his magic starts to flow into my once more. ¡°Oh, right, before we go¨Cdid you get enough of the plastic? I took a whole bunch, just in case the quest only lets us use the stuff we bring in. So you should to.¡±

    He lets go of my hand, but the magic doesn¡¯t fade¨Cit just stagnates. ¡°How much plastic can you put in one inventory slot?¡±

    ¡°Fifty six and three sixteenths pounds.¡± Clutter answers immediately. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what colour you take, either¨Cit¡¯s all the same.¡±

    Fifty pounds, huh? That seems like a lot compared to how much everything else can stack. But hey, if I¡¯m using an inventory slot on it anyway, might as well go all-out. With Clutter¡¯s magic tingling up my arm, I reach into the boulder once more and grab a massive handful of the stuff.

    And bite back a yelp of pain as I¡¯m swiftly reminded which hand I just used. Muttered curses accompany the next dozen seconds of scraping and sending plastic to my inventory, and when the first blob appears in another slot, I pull it out and toss it back into the rock. Leaving me with exactly fifty six and three sixteenths pounds.

    ¡°What a weird number.¡± I mutter to myself as I close my fingers around my wounded hand. ¡°You think the system would¡¯ve rounded it down to fifty.¡±

    Clutter shrugs. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of really weird stack numbers. Some pebbles you can have hundreds of, but there¡¯s a specific kind of pebble from a specific forest that you can only ever have eighteen and a half of. If you try to put any less or more into your inventory, it just doesn¡¯t work.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and offer Clutter my hand. ¡°How¡¯d someone figure that out?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I randomly took eighteen and a half of them with me the first time I tried.¡± Clutter grabs my wrist, avoiding the blood, and turns the magic back on. ¡°Then when I went back, I couldn¡¯t put any more in. So I tried the same number as before, and would you know it¨Cit worked! Such a weird number, but it didn¡¯t open up a quest or anything. It¡¯s just the system being strange.¡±

    The urge to tell Clutter he might¡¯ve missed something huge almost brings the words to the tip of my tongue. But a warning glance from Pearl and a shake of her head stops me just on time. Clutter¡¯s already not the most confident person, and we need him on target for at least the next few days. The last thing I need is for him to run back to wherever that forest was and change his priorities completely.

    Magic surges, and the starway¨Cor whatever Clutter calls it¨Cappears around us. He lets go of my hand, holds a finger to his mouth reminding me to be quiet, and freezes as he realizes how impolite the gesture looks. I don¡¯t give a shit, though, so I let him stew in his own mind as we start walking to wherever this graveyard is. It buys me all of five minutes of silence before Clutter starts rambling on about things that have nothing to do with our current situation.

    But hey, at least I know what his favorite fruit is. And three-dozen justifications, explanations, and bring-downs of other fruits to make me understand why his favorite fruit is the best.

    It¡¯s watermelon. A slightly different version of watermelon, sure, but his words paint a perfect picture of a watermelon. Not a bad choice, but definitely not worth ten minutes of rambling. Even Pearl sighs with boredom.

    ¡°Apricots are way better.¡± She mumbles.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Okay, maybe not boredom. At least one of us is invested in this rambling conversation.

    <hr>

    ¡°No shit, I didn¡¯t know you could use a splattermelon like that.¡± I drop out of the starway and watch as Clutter does the same. ¡°Who found out you can do that?¡±

    He laughs and shrugs, content obviously written over his face. ¡°Someone who was really desperate for an I.V. drip, I guess. They¡¯ve been planting them in soils with different compositions ever since, and they¡¯re used instead of water in a lot of different potions for the same reason.¡±

    I nod ever so slightly and hum in thought. ¡°You make a damn good case for splattermelons, Clutter, I¡¯ll give you that.¡±

    Pearl crosses her arms and pouts. ¡°Apricots are still tastier. He just says splattermelons are better because apricots are Earth food, and he hasn¡¯t tried one yet.¡±

    I ignore Pearl¡¯s denial and scan the graveyard. Honestly, I was expecting something out of a horror movie¨Cdim light, marshy ground, and a bunch of lanterns casting ghostly shadows that flicker at the edge of your vision, scaring the shit out of you and making you paranoid. Instead, it¡¯s a beautifully manicured field with thousands of differently coloured and shaped wildflowers and hovering wreaths of various makes shimmering with magic. And since it¡¯s just around noon, the sun¡¯s high in the sky and shadows are nowhere to be found.

    ¡°Somebody has to champion their greatness.¡± He smiles and looks around, his expression dropping by the second. ¡°Oh. I almost forgot where we were going. So, um, we¡¯re here. Can we make this quick?¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I ask as I start walking into the field. ¡°This place is beautiful. Are the wreaths grave markers?¡±

    He whimpers, then scurries to stand hunched down directly at my side. ¡°Yes, they are. Families make one for the deceased, out of flowers or candy or stone or anything else, and the gravekeeper¡¯s land magic makes them hover as the¡­ as the¡­¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as Clutter trails off, terror in his eyes. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°The land eats them.¡± He whispers, his voice shaking with terror. ¡°All the flowers here grew from dead bodies. And if we¡¯re mean to them¡­ the flowers will come after us. Thank goodness there aren¡¯t any trees, or¨Ceep!¡±

    A massive tree with translucent, ghostly bark and hanging red leaves appears out of nowhere, as if summoned by Clutter¡¯s words. He stutters in fear and jumps behind me, barely peeking out from behind my shoulder, and even then he only shoots glances at the gigantic thing. It must be thirty feet wide and at least two hundred feet tall, and through the bark, lines of magic and water climb up the thing to feed its leaves.

    I whistle as I crane my neck back to try and see the top of the jumpscare tree. ¡°That¡¯s one huge fu¨C¡±

    Wooden creaks and groans cut me off. I knit my brows and glance back at Clutter, but he¡¯s no help.

    ¡°The hell¨C¡±

    Once more, the tree creaks and groans, but louder this time. I can¡¯t help but laugh¨Cis this thing telling me not to swear? A gigantic, magical ghost tree doesn¡¯t like foul language. Sure, why the hell not?

    ¡°Sorry, won¡¯t be saying stuff like that while I¡¯m here.¡± I assure the thing and reach out to pat its bark. It¡¯s warm and comforting, but also cold¨Clike cozying up around the fireplace in the dead of winter. ¡°Da¡­ng, you feel nice. So are you here to mess with us, mister tree, or did we just not see you until now? Because I can see flowers inside of your body that definitely wouldn¡¯t survive normally.¡±

    The tree creaks, and the soft rustling of a breeze through leaves gently prods against my mind. I have absolutely no idea what it means, but it doesn¡¯t feel hostile. Just¡­ ancient and a little worried. Maybe Pearl can understand it?

    I reach up and tap her shell to get her attention. She tilts her head to the side and looks down at me. ¡°You didn¡¯t understand him?¡±

    I shake my head.

    ¡°Oh. I thought you did.¡± She pauses as the tree makes tree noises, then nods. ¡°He says you¡¯re welcome here as long as you don¡¯t disturb anything. And he¡¯s asking if you¡¯d be willing to help with a colourful little infestation that¡¯s spreading from one of the graves.¡±

    ¡°Colourful infestation?¡± I lean around the tree, even though there¡¯s no reason to, but I can¡¯t see anything weird. ¡°Do you mean the plastic stuff?¡±

    The tree¡¯s leaves all shake at once in a cacophonous rustle. I don¡¯t need Pearl to tell me that¡¯s a yes. Then it keeps shaking and creaking, which I definitely do need her help to translate.

    She raises a finger to her lips and nods along to the noises. ¡°He¡¯s bad-mouthing the plastics, which is more than fair. Um¡­ okay¡­ he¡¯s giving us directions, but I don¡¯t think we need them because Clutter already knows where they are. Oh! He just recognized Clutter from a little while ago. He wants us to tell him he says ¡®hello, and welcome back¡¯.¡±

    I look over my shoulder at the still-cowering Clutter. ¡°The tree says hello and welcome back.¡±

    Clutter just whimpers and completely hides his face.

    ¡°He¡¯s just shy¨Cdon¡¯t worry about him.¡±

    A long creak and rustle, almost like a throaty laugh, flows out of the tree. Leaves slowly tumble through the air, gently landing on my shoulders like snowflakes, and crumble to crimson dust before I can reach up to feel them. My awareness focuses on them like tiny bombs, so chock full of magic and volatile that they could be unbelievably dangerous, but they don¡¯t do anything. Pearl shivers at the sensation, though her face says it isn¡¯t out of disgust or fear. Just¡­ a natural reaction.

    The tree disappears. No fanfare, no goodbye creaks, no nothing. I roll my shoulder as the last remnants of the magic crumble away and fall to the ground, then turn to Clutter and tap him on the shoulder to stop him from cowering. He slowly peeks through his fingers, and when he sees the tree isn¡¯t here any more, he comes out from hiding while looking around like a nervous toddler.

    ¡°Is it gone? Really gone?¡± He quietly asks.

    I nod. ¡°He¡¯s gone. What¡¯s got you so scared of him, anyway?¡±

    Clutter shudders and gestures into the distance. ¡°It¡¯s a¡­ Paindne thing. You can ask Dizzy or Nib about it the next time you see them, but I don¡¯t want to talk about it. Can we just¡­ hurry up so we can get out of here as soon as possible?¡±

    I step to the side and sweep out an arm. ¡°Lead the way.¡±

 Chapter 136: Squirming Grave

    With the pleasant scent of wildflowers and a light breeze beckoning us on, Clutter leads the way to the grave he heard about. Or¡­ saw, I guess, since the tree recognized him. Didn¡¯t he say he hadn¡¯t investigated this place yet?

    I stare a hole through the back of Clutter¡¯s head as I follow him. ¡°Clutter, have you ever been here before?¡±

    He nods. Silently. Guiltily

    ¡°You said this was one of the leads you had left. How can that be true if the tree recognized you and you already knew the way?¡± I ask in a purely questioning tone, but Clutter winces anyway. ¡°Hey, Clutter? I¡¯d like an explanation if you have one.¡±

    With a gulp, he nods again without turning to look at me. ¡°I¡­ did come here before to follow the lead. It was before I even met you, when I was taking odd jobs between finding quests to get some legitimate Worth. We came here, the tree showed up, and I¡­ I¡­ I ran away.¡±

    He nearly chokes out those last three words. His shoulders sag in shame and his tail curls up between his legs, making him stumble over his own feet with every step. I don¡¯t quite understand why that¡¯s so hard on him, or why he felt the need to lie to me when he knew we¡¯d be coming here. Something¡¯s off. But I don¡¯t know why.

    ¡°So you ran away from the big scary tree, but still know exactly where the grave is. Did you see it before you ran, or do you only know where it is from your info?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Clutter starts, then glances even further away from me. ¡°I actually saw the grave. It was huge, and scary, and overrun, and the others I came here with had to deal with it on their own. They came back a few days later, then the quest the tree gave us failed, and they fired me. One of them even lost an eye.¡±

    ¡°Ouch. Could they get a new one?¡±

    Clutter nods. ¡°I paid for it myself, since I¡¯m the reason she lost it. But the worst part is¡­ they weren¡¯t even mad at me. Two of them even tried to console me¨Cincluding the woman who lost an eye! She wouldn¡¯t even let me pay for the whole thing, just half!¡±

    I frown. ¡°Isn¡¯t it a good thing that they don¡¯t hate you? Or do you really think you being there to fight¡­ whatever the tree¡¯s keeping at bay would¡¯ve made all the difference?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Clutter exclaims and lowers his face into his palms. ¡°That¡¯s the problem! I don¡¯t know if I could¡¯ve made a difference. Even now, I can feel the tree¡¯s presence, and it¡¯s constantly nipping my mind like thousands of tiny brain piranhas. It¡¯s taking everything I have just to stay here to help you.¡±

    Well, that¡¯s definitely comforting¨Cknowing your guide wants to run the hell away just from existing close to the memory of a tree. I can barely feel the tree¡¯s magic on me now¨Cit¡¯s just like knowing someone¡¯s watching me. Unless Clutter actually feels something else, this has to be in his head. Which, honestly, is the worst place for it to be.

    Because if I want him to be useful for the next two investigations, I can''t let him break now. So I¡¯ve got a choice to make¨Crisk it and hope he can hold himself together for however long it takes to deal with this, or tell him to run away and have Pearl guide me to where the tree wants. I drum my fingers against my thigh as I think, and while I stare at the back of Clutter¡¯s head, I come to a decision.

    If he turns back to look at me before we get to the grave, I¡¯ll trust him. But if he doesn¡¯t, he¡¯s getting sent away until I¡¯m done. Just as I nod to myself in acceptance, Pearl clears her throat to get my attention.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think Clutter¡¯s lying to us.¡± She says slowly, which was a possibility I hadn¡¯t even considered. ¡°My personal opinion is that he doesn¡¯t have a single malicious bone in his body, but that doesn¡¯t mean he¡¯s not going to hide things from us. Just not for reasons that could actually hurt us.¡±

    More like reasons he wouldn¡¯t think could hurt us, but from the frown on pearl¡¯s face, she knows that too. She sighs and shakes her head with her hands on her hips like a disappointed parent.

    ¡°There¡¯s definitely still something weird here, Shelby. I don¡¯t feel any threatening magic at all¨Cnot from the tree, or any of the graves, or¡­ anywhere, really. If whatever¡¯s here did actually rip someone¡¯s eye out and injure more people, it did it without malice.¡±

    Like an automated alarm system going off. Except here, the alarm would¡¯ve been installed on someone else¡¯s property. I don¡¯t know if that complicates things or drastically simplifies them; of course there¡¯s also the possibility that Pearl¡¯s wrong, or the tree¡¯s containment is doing a damn good job of containing. Guess I¡¯ll just have to see for myself.

    I reach up and give Pearl¡¯s shell a confirmatory knock, which she returns by smacking her gooey knuckles against whatever she¡¯s leaning up against. We both go right back to focusing on Clutter, with our combined awarenesses stretching out to feel for the plasticy grave. He still seems confident in where he¡¯s taking us. Hopefully that¡¯s not another self-protecting fib.

    It takes a few minutes to cross the field of graves. I carefully maneuver around the floating wreaths, making sure not to touch even one of them, but Clutter isn¡¯t quite as careful. He brushes up against a few, pushes others off to the side, and even runs into one when he gets spooked by a strange-looking lizard popping out of a flower.

    ¡°Be a little more careful. This is a graveyard.¡± I remind him as he grabs hold of a ring of lights and cords to move it out of his way. ¡°Isn¡¯t this just more fuel to piss off the tree?¡±

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Clutter vigorously shakes his head. ¡°They¡¯re magically protected. Nothing I do could break them, and they¡¯re not actually grave markers. Well, they are, but they¡¯re not¡­ um¡­ connected to the grave¡­ unless they are. It¡¯ll be easier if I just show you.¡±

    He pushes the wreath in his hand off to the side, and it simply hovers away. Without turning to look at me, he motions at it as it comes to a stop. Then he glances around, careful not to make eye contact with me, and eventually focuses on a wreath of black stone with chalk-white childlike drawings scribbled on it. Just looking at it gives me a weird feeling¨Clike finding a gravestone and seeing that it¡¯s a little kid¡¯s. And that it¡¯s brand new.

    Careful steps through the flowers bring Clutter to the wreath. I don¡¯t follow him, and he doesn¡¯t check to see if I do. When he gets close enough he rubs both of his hands together before pushing on the wreath. He grunts and strains, as if to prove he¡¯s really putting everything into it, then backs off while shaking his hands.

    ¡°See?¡± He says without looking at me. Still. ¡°If the grave is fresh, the wreath won¡¯t move. But when the person underneath completely returns to the word, their wreath can move around the graveyard. Neat, huh?¡±

    A glimmer of the not-coward version of Clutter returns for a second as he stares at the wreath. From what I can see, it¡¯s almost like he respects the craftsmanship that¡¯s gone into the things. Which makes it even weirder that he¡¯s scared of the tree¨Cscared enough to abandon people to their fates.

    ¡°Yeah, neat. But we¡¯ve still got to move.¡± I walk over and pat him on the shoulder. ¡°C¡¯mon, big guy. The sooner we get done with this, the sooner you can leave mean old mister tree behind for good.¡±

    He hesitates for a second, then nods meekly. ¡°Okay. We¡¯re close to where I saw it last time. I¡­ I promise I won¡¯t run away.¡±

    I raise a doubtful eyebrow. ¡°Sure, Clutter. Sure. Look me in the eye.¡±

    Slowly, carefully, and nervously¡­ Clutter turns away and keeps walking. His entire body shakes just a little, and I can see how this is affecting him. Poor thing needs therapy, but the way he is now, I can¡¯t trust him to have my back. He won¡¯t do anything to hurt me, but I have to pretend like he¡¯s not even here.

    I stick my hands in my pockets and follow him, more than a little disappointment making its way onto my face. Pearl clicks her tongue and shakes her head.

    ¡°We can¡¯t take him into the quest with us if he¡¯s this volatile.¡± She says with grim certainty. ¡°If we get grouped up, there¡¯s a chance he could make us fail. Or worse; so much worse.¡±

    She raises an eyebrow, inviting me to say anything to the contrary, but I don¡¯t have anything to say. After a few seconds of waiting she sighs and weaves her fingers together.

    ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll actually listen to us?¡±

    Ha. No way in hell¨Che¡¯s attached to this. I shake my head, and Pearl instantly hums in agreement.

    ¡°Then we get to the end of this pre-quest whatever and make sure we don¡¯t get grouped with him. It stinks, since he¡¯s worked so hard for this, but¡­ well¡­¡± She stares sympathetically at Clutter¡¯s back as he takes shallow breaths. ¡°What if there¡¯s a bunch of these trees in the quest? Or what if something else spooks him and he runs during a really important moment?¡±

    I nod. ¡°I know.¡±

    Clutter jolts, and almost turns to meet my eyes. But just before I can make out the very side of his eyes, he snaps back to staring straight ahead. So close. But his shame and self disappointment mixed with fear stops him. So we walk in silence until the ground shifts ever so slightly under my feet.

    Visually, there¡¯s no change. Flowers coat the ground, wreaths hover at chest height, and the ground itself is a well-manicured bed of green stuff that I can¡¯t really make out from where I stand. But the sensation under my feet feels¡­ squirmy. Like there¡¯s thousands of worms under the cover of green wriggling and writhing to try and break free.

    A violent shudder works its way up Clutter starting from the bottoms of his feet. This time, I can¡¯t blame him¨Cthe sensation is just plain disgusting. Especially compared to how reverent and pristine the rest of the graveyard was up until this very moment.

    ¡°We¡¯re close?¡± I half-ask, half state as I tear my gaze from the ground. ¡°Which grave is it?¡±

    Clutter shivers, snaps his gaze around manically, and whips out his arm to point at one specific thing. ¡°That one.¡±

    I look in the designated direction, and sure enough, there¡¯s an anomaly before my very eyes. There¡¯s a wide circle where no wreaths hover, where the flowers don¡¯t seem to sway in the wind, and where a tiny trickle of strange magic bleeds out into the world. It feels like the boulder, but¡­ well¡­ ¡®alive¡¯ isn¡¯t the right word. More like¡­ active. Moving. But without any sense, instinct, or intelligence behind the motions.

    ¡°Yergh, that¡¯s a horrible feeling. So, Clutter, you¡¯re running backup on this one. Keep whatever¡¯s in there from running away or¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ infecting another grave.¡± I shrug and roll up my sleeve to expose my holster. ¡°Run away if you need to, but don¡¯t get involved in the actual fight. I don¡¯t want to accidentally hurt you.¡±

    A soft whimper echoes out, then silence. I take a few more steps, but as the silence stretches on, a gnawing discomfort worms its way into my stomach. With a glance over my shoulder I check to see if Clutter¡¯s even here any more, and when I do, my eyes finally meet his for the first time since he told his story.

    All I see is self-doubt, fear, and anxiety. But he doesn¡¯t look away. His knees rattle, his arms shake, and he¡¯s definitely a little paler than before. Looks like he¡¯s determined to watch, though. Which still isn¡¯t enough to justify bringing him along on the quest.

    I turn back, not disappointed or encouraged, just¡­ normal. My feet squelch against the ground as I step into the circle that¡¯s empty of wreaths, and instantly, the flowers press up against me with much more resistance. It feels like trying to walk through a bunch of sturdy reeds, not the gentle wildflowers from a second ago. Except they should be the exact same things.

    Dim light emanates from the perfect center of the ring. I hold my hand out to block it as it grows in intensity, gleaming so bright that it forces me to completely look away. The phantasmal image of the tree sears itself into my eyes at the last second, and the trickle of magic becomes a plasticy deluge.

    Without warning, the light dies out. With enough caution to power an entire army of crossing guards I turn back to look. There, in the perfect center of the circle, floats a simple red wreath. Dripping wax-coloured plastic tinged red that connects to the ground like a vile umbilical cord.

    The squirming pulses all at once. I swallow hard and push shields into the coins embedded in my holster. Whatever¡¯s down there¡­ it¡¯s not going down without a fight.

 Chapter 137: The Wreath

    I instinctively take a step back as the ground swells. Flowers frozen in place bulge up along with the dirt underneath, rising in a mound the size of a minivan directly underneath the hovering wreath. They slowly begin to droop down and wither, as if the thing inside was siphoning everything from them, and then they¡­ melt. A slurry of colour runs down the mound, coating it in a thin shell of mottled dull liquid that stops the moment it hits the lower edge of the bulge.

    ¡°What the hell¡­¡± I mutter in disbelief as my awareness finally gets wind of the changes. ¡°How did this even happen?¡±

    Like a shattering egg, the mound of ground bursts into jagged chunks. A thin membrane barely connects them, stretches for a moment, then snaps with a wet squelch as the pieces thunder to the ground and stick like metal plates blown from an explosion. Pearl gasps as the writing mass of plastic inside shudders and twitches like a newborn bird, strands of squirming plastic extending from it like parasites. Clutter screams somewhere behind me. I don¡¯t blame him.

    The magic that rolls off of it is absolutely vile, after all. Like a beach after a tsunami, littered with rotting carcass, rubble, and reminders of a tragedy. But unlike everything else I¡¯ve fought, I can¡¯t place any¡­ consciousness in it. It¡¯s just a mass of plastic with way too much magical power, and no desires of its own. If it¡¯s deadly, it¡¯s deadly like spent nuclear matter¨Cpassive and harmless if buried right.

    Which poses the question¡­ what the hell put it here? And how¡¯d they get past the guardian tree? The only answer that comes to mind is the system itself¨Cwhich means the tree is at least a little complacent, since it could¡¯ve gotten rid of the stuff on its own if it actually wanted to. Or¡­ maybe it wants to, but the system made sure it can¡¯t. That¡¯s one very important distinction.

    Horrible burbling slurps, like an animal trying to escape a tar pit, hiss free from the mass. I shake my head and put all thoughts except getting rid of this thing out of my mind, flip a few projectile-filled coins into my hand, and feel at my pre-prepared shields with my awareness. Their fragile forms shudder at the smallest touch, ready to explode into protection at the slightest thought. I spare one last glance over my shoulder at Clutter, and to his credit, he¡¯s holding his ground. Could be because his legs stopped working, but hey¨CI¡¯ll give him the benefit of the doubt.

    ¡°Be careful, Shelby.¡± Pearl tenses, and her gaze becomes razor-sharp. ¡°There¡¯s something really weird about this. How could that thing do the damage Clutter said it did?¡±

    I furrow my brows in confusion. There¡¯s enough magic here to do some serious damage; what¡¯s with Pearl¡¯s worry? The thing¡¯s nearly screaming, sitting there menacingly, and just destroyed a fairly sacred part of a graveyard guarded by a ghost tree. That¡¯s more than dangerous enough for me.

    One of my coins slips and slams to the ground. I blink in surprise and stare down at the projectile¨Cstill ready to be fired¨Csitting there like a quarter in the gutter. Something twists in my gut. I¡¯ve never dropped a coin before. Not even close.

    I trail my gaze up to the mass. It did something. I flex my fingers just in case, but sure enough, all of them still move just fine. No weakness, no numbness, no involuntary movements. All that¡¯s off is the one missing coin that¡¯s sitting on the ground.

    ¡°Clutter!¡± I call without taking my eyes off the mass. ¡°Did you see anything at all before you ran?¡±

    A series of whimpers and barks answer me. I take it as a ¡®no¡¯.

    I raise my coin-filled hand and rub my wrist as discomfort writhes through my body. The thing still hasn¡¯t attacked. It hasn¡¯t done much of anything. It¡¯s just¡­ there. Like a bomb in the middle of an empty street. Staring at it fills me with disgust like nothing else. Something so visceral that I can¡¯t help but want to remove it completely and utterly.

    It¡­ I¡­ I lick my lips and squeeze my wrist tight. There¡¯s a reality here that I just can¡¯t grasp. I need to grasp it. Purification flows into an empty coin, and with a thought, it shatters into cleansing salty mist that whirls around me in a maelstrom of magic. Violent empty winds carry it away in moments, but for those few seconds, I can feel the truth.

    The mound is putting something off. It¡¯s making me want to hate it. Just like the boulder did, but¡­ stronger and far more insidious. I couldn''t even tell the sensation was magical. I flp my remaining projectiles through my fingers, keeping them moving so I don¡¯t succumb to whatever made me drop one in the first place.

    Everything is yelling¨Cno, screaming¨Cat me to attack this thing. Even the tree asked me to get rid of it. But that one moment¨Cthat clarity through the noise¨Cit complicates things. I grit my teeth and summon a shield around myself, not quite form fitting since I don¡¯t have the power for that yet, and create another cloud of purification on the inside of the shield. Thanks to Fleur it doesn¡¯t destroy my shield, and without anywhere to go, the purification sticks to me like glue.

    As the seconds tick by, my mind focuses on the mound. It¡¯s still absolutely disgusting and unnerving, but in the ¡®gross, wiggly thing that just popped out of a graveyard¡¯ way. Like¡­ if a coffin got exhumed and it was all rotted away and crawling with worms. I shudder at the noises, which are still pretty disturbing, and trail my eyes up the plastic that connects the mound to the wreath on top.

    Which¡­ now that I think of it¡­ I completely stopped seeing the wreath when the mound started doing its thing. Was that purposeful? Because the damn thing¡¯s hovering, like, three dozen feet off the ground and the dripping plastic connection is much thinner than before. It looks like spiderweb now instead of the thick, wax-like trail of a minute ago.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    I rub the back of my head with a growing frown. ¡°What the hell am I supposed to do, then? Get the wreath away from the mound?¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°It¡¯s as good a guess as any. Be careful, though¨Ceven if you¡¯re not supposed to fight it, doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, good call.¡± I say with a nod as I lean down to grab my dropped coin, then flick it towards the thin plastic threads. It bursts into a projectile inches from my hand, soars through the air, and severs the threads easily. ¡°Oh. I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d be that easy. Must mean there¡¯s¨C¡±

    The wreath smacks off the top of the mound with a dull thud. It tumbles down, somehow finding itself on its side, and manages to roll down towards me. I stare at it as it rolls perfectly to my feet, knocks against my boot, and stops on a dime. That¡¯s¡­ not what I was expecting to happen. There has to be something else.

    I lean down, pick it up, and run my shielded hand over the plastic. It glorps away like globs of soft wax, leaving a plasticy residue over an actual gravestone. The letters are a little hard to read, which is strange, since the rest of the graveyard¡¯s wreaths were pristine. Almost like this one was vandalized¨Cor made shittily on purpose.

    ¡°Marywell Den.¡± I squint down at the carving, and I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m reading it right. ¡°Wait, where¡¯s the dates? And the¡­ inscription thing?¡±

    Turning over and checking the wreath all over gives me nothing else to work with. I carefully scrape away the rest of the plastic, just in case it¡¯s covering something, but it doesn¡¯t reveal anything new. The only thing on this simple stone wreath is a name carved in extremely simple letters. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say they were done with a machine¨Cnot by hand.

    I turn and hold the wreath up for Clutter to see. ¡°Clutter! Do you know who Marywell Den is?¡±

    He vigorously shakes his head. From on the ground. Where he¡¯s covering his ears with his hands, has his tail curled up against his body, and is shaking so bad that it looks like he has a bad fever. But he hasn''t run yet, I¡¯ll give him that.

    My awareness flares without warning, and my shield shatters around me. I whip around and summon another shield just as a maul of plastic slams into it, buzzing with so much magic that the stuff boils and burbles like an active volcano. It basically splatters against my shield, barely putting any pressure on it. Then it just¡­ does.

    That¡¯s the best way I can describe how the splattered plastic suddenly crushes another shield like it¡¯s nothing at all. It doesn¡¯t feel that much stronger than anything else I¡¯ve blocked up until now, but it¡¯s like¡­ well¡­ my shield¡¯s failing. The plastic latches onto it, does something to it, and then it just stops working.

    I take a step back and throw up another shield as the plastic drips to the ground in a second puddle. It doesn¡¯t move back to the mass, though, and seems to harden to the consistency I¡¯m used to in seconds. A swirling disruption on the mound draws my attention just enough to notice the slight magical shift at the center of it.

    Reaching up to tap Pearl¡¯s shell, I ready another shield just in case.

    ¡°There¡¯s something inside of it, but there¡¯s too much plastic for me to make it out.¡± She says as she leans forward as if to get a better look. ¡°I thought the wreath was doing it, but apparently not. Um¡­ I think I should be able to get a good glimpse of it in a few more blasts. Do you have enough shields for that?¡±

    I nod quickly as plastic splatters my shield. With a jump to the side I shift the shield so I can get through it before the plastic shatters it, and throw another shield up before the first one dissipates. The attack still goes through like before, which hopefully means the mound isn¡¯t in control of the plastic after it fires it.

    Pearl goes completely quiet as she watches the plastic fall. I can feel her focus reverberating through my awareness, but it¡¯s a little split. Like she¡¯s watching out of the corner of her eye instead of putting her entire mind on it. Which is a little weird, but I trust her, so I don¡¯t say anything.

    For the next few minutes all I do is stand, wait for some plastic to hit me, take a few steps to the side, and put up another shield. Then I do it again, and again, and again. For the first minute I hold onto the fleeting hope that the mound¡¯s going to run out of plastic at some point, but by the fifth, I¡¯m damn sure nothing¡¯s changing. The thing in the center of it feels just as far away, the mound doesn¡¯t look any smaller, and there¡¯s enough plastic littering the ground to fill a toys-R-us.

    ¡°Hey, do you need more time?¡± I whisper. ¡°Because I¡¯m starting to think I should just destroy this thing.¡±

    With a scowl, Pearl shakes her head ever so slightly. ¡°There¡¯s something weird here, Shelby. Really weird. Every time I feel like I get close, the thing slips away. Like it¡¯s somehow running away from my awareness, but it isn¡¯t actually moving. I¡­ um¡­ I honestly don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as another plastic burst shatters my shield. ¡°You don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening? Then¡­ shouldn¡¯t that be the green light for me to destroy it?¡±

    A short yet thoughtful silence follows my question. Eventually, Pearl breaks it with a sigh.

    ¡°Whatever¡¯s happening is obviously the system¡¯s doing. But because this was put in place before you came to this world, the system didn¡¯t want anyone seeing what was inside the mound¨Cnot just the Worth Classes.¡± She raises a hand to her face and leans her cheek on her palm. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t think anyone was even supposed to sense the thing inside¨Cour awareness is just too good. So go ahead, but be really careful when you destroy it¨Cthere¡¯s a chance it¡¯ll have some backlash.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha. Backlash.¡± I nod and snap two projectiles forward, which instantly scream into magic and motion. They tear through the plastic like wet sand, sending scores of the stuff in every direction. More and more of it flows out of the mound by the moment, and my projectiles just keep spinning against the surface.

    That¡¯s¡­ not a good sign. It¡¯s like the grave¡¯s pulling up more and more plastic from down below¨Cor maybe it can just make more of it on its own. Just in case I throw up a three-layered emergency shield, then toss two at Clutter to keep him from becoming accidental collateral damage. He doesn¡¯t even look up when they encase him in protective magic.

    The mound warps, twists, and bubbles as I stare at my projectiles. I feel my connection to them start to weaken as the magic inside runs out. Holy shit, there¡¯s so much plastic in that thing. Looks like I¡¯m going to have to¨C

    RUMBLE.

    ¡­Uh-oh.

 Chapter 138: Molten Plastic Assault

    My mind rings twice. For a split second, everything goes dark.

    Something wet squelches under my head. I groan and rub whatever it is from my hair as I¡­ sit up? Since when was I lying down? A shooting pain lances through my leg as I try to stand, and a quick glance down shows why¨Cmy knee¡¯s bending completely backwards. I grit my teeth and look back at Clutter, just in case, but he looks fine. Still cowering under the shields, but¡­ well¡­ cowering and alive.

    Blood fills my mouth, and I spit out a shattered tooth with a grimace. It must¡¯ve cut the inside of my mouth up pretty good with how much blood comes out, and a questing finger probes at my teeth until I find the empty spot. There¡¯s a little prick of bone at the bottom, almost like another tooth already growing in, which¡­ well, I guess I do have shark teeth. So not that much of a surprise.

    I blink slowly, surprised at just how¡­ lucid¡­ I feel at the moment, and turn my eyes to the mound of plastic. It pulses and writhes just like before, and there doesn¡¯t seem to be much more plastic on the ground than before.

    ¡°God damn it, that hurts.¡± I grumble as I lean back and throw up an overreaction of shields. ¡°Pearl, did you see what the fu¨C¡±

    ¡°I saw everything!¡± She cuts me off with a glance away from me. The creak of the tree echoes in my ears threateningly, and she sneers at the source of the noise. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be such a jerk¨Cit¡¯s not Shelby¡¯s fault the plastic is connected to your roots and siphoning magic from them. Maybe that¡¯s something you could¡¯ve told us in advance?¡±

    Creaks and groans answer Pearl¡¯s accusation seriously. She crosses her arms and taps her foot as they continue, then raises an eyebrow when they stop.

    ¡°That¡¯s a little better. Now give us some of your sap so we can heal and get rid of your problem.¡±

    A thick, ghastly root bursts free from the ground right next to me. I stare at it for a split second, not quite sure what to do, but Pearl grabs my attention with a desperate wave.

    ¡°Psst! Shelby! You still have those potion holders, right?¡± She whispers as loudly as possible. ¡°The tree¡¯s offering some of it¡¯s sap and hallowed groundwater. Fill one of each.¡±

    I nod idly and open my inventory, pulling out two empty flasks that used to be filled with potions. The root punctures the side of one flask, and I feel something flowing into it. Then it retracts, punctures the other, and a slightly different sensation fills that one. Once both are filled the root slurps back into the ground, leaving no trace that it was ever here in the first place. I turn the flasks around to check for holes, but aside from the weight in them, there¡¯s no sign the root was ever there either.

    ¡°Identify.¡±

    Gravekeeper Cottonwood Sap - given willingly.

    Concentrated sap from a Gravekeeper Cottonwood.

    A precious ingredient with few known uses.

    Gravebound Groundwater - given willingly.

    Groundwater from within a Gravekeeper¡¯s influence.

    A precious ingredient with few known uses.

    I stare at my pair of flasks with a flat expression. ¡°These do nothing for me.¡±

    Pearl tilts her head to the side, seemingly surprised by that. ¡°What? Um, the sap should be a really powerful healing potion with a really weird backlash. And the water is really refreshing.¡±

    ¡°Nope; just says here they¡¯re ingredients.¡± I tap the side of a flask for emphasis, then send them both away. ¡°Good thing I didn¡¯t use the healing potion flask for these.¡±

    I summon the flask with the last of the healing potion in it and down the rest of it. Surprisingly, my throat lets me drink everything that¡¯s left instead of closing off prematurely. That¡¯s a horrible sign. I wince and reach down to twist my knee and lower leg back into place so the potion can do its thing, then close my eyes as the horrible sound of bones crunching and tendons re-knitting sends shudders up my leg.

    And¡­ that¡¯s it. Somehow, only my leg got hurt, and it was enough to knock me out. I grimace and shakily stand, not looking forward to the pain that¡¯s going to come in a little bit, and take stock of my coins. All the shields from before I blacked out are gone, save for Clutter¡¯s, and my projectiles that were spinning on the mound are gone too. Purification¡¯s also gone, but the gross feelings aren¡¯t back. It must¡¯ve soaked into me enough to stop them from getting to me.

    A root prods me on the shoulder, and I turn to stare at it. ¡°What?¡±

    The tree groans, creaks, and somehow seems apologetic. Pearl rolls her eyes and motions at the plastic.

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize to us; tell us how we¡¯re supposed to get this dang thing out of here if it¡¯s siphoning power directly from you.¡± She says in an accusatory tone, which is pretty damn deserved. ¡°How¡¯d those other people who fought this thing survive, anyway? Shelby¡¯s really tough, and a concentrated eruption of plastic under her leg was still enough to pierce her shields and knock her out.¡±

    Is that what happened? An eruption of plastic? I glance around for any signs of it, but it doesn''t really look¡­ wait, no. There¡¯s a pile of plastic that¡¯s almost exactly the same as all the others, except for the fact that it¡¯s still moving. Meaning it¡¯s connected to the mound, and that I couldn¡¯t see it a moment ago because it wasn¡¯t obvious.

    While Pearl tries to pry a way to kill the thing out of the tree, I slowly walk over to the pool of molten plastic. It looks way hotter and deadlier than any of the other stuff I¡¯ve seen so far, but it¡¯s also¡­ well¡­ just more plastic. From what I can feel, there¡¯s no way anything that came from this should¡¯ve been able to demolish my shields like it did. Something must¡¯ve happened at the moment of impact. Which was¡­ oh, shit.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    I pull my lips into a thin line and turn to the mound. Even though I¡¯m standing right next to the puddle that knocked me on my ass, it¡¯s not doing anything. One of my shields shatters as a clump of plastic crashes into it, but that¡¯s not what I¡¯m talking about¨Cit was doing that since it popped out of the ground.

    But it only did the eruption thing when I attacked it. Like a punching bag swinging back with double the force I put into it. If I hadn¡¯t protected myself so heavily, I definitely would¡¯ve died there. And it sort of explains how Clutter¡¯s old group didn¡¯t get utterly annihilated¨Cthey weren¡¯t strong enough to damage it for that kind of retaliation.

    Still, that¡¯s just a theory. I need to prove it if I want to actually use it to get rid of the thing. A coin spins between my fingers as I visualize the weakest projectile possible¨Cone that¡¯s monstrously huge, lasts for an absurdly long time, and flies as fast as humanly possible. Basically, the magical equivalent of a breeze that can only ruffle your clothes. At least that¡¯s what I hope it does.

    I glance back at Clutter once again, and surprise surprise, there¡¯s no change. Then I take more than a few steps back to the edge of the mound¡¯s area of influence, flip the coin up to my thumbnail, and flick it at the mound. It spins through the air, flipping over and over as my weak but huge projectile breaks free from it.

    Magic barely buzzes in the shape of a sphere, tiny particles of salty magic whirling about in the breeze. It hits the mound without making a sound, then sticks there like the other one. The ground begins to shudder under my feet, just like before, but¡­ it¡¯s so much weaker. If the first one that knocked me flat on my ass was an earthquake, this one¡¯s more like the initial jolt you feel when an elevator starts moving.

    Plastic pools beneath my feet in a basin the size of a bottle cap. I stare down at it, which admittedly isn¡¯t very smart, but my awareness tells me it¡¯s not worth worrying about at all. The mound spasms like someone just sent an electric current through it, and then¨C

    Spurt.

    The piddliest, most pathetic splurt of molten plastic barely squishes out of the basin and brushes against my shield. It barely even makes a dent in the structural integrity, but there¡¯s just enough damage for me to notice it happened. Even with this little, though, that¡¯s a pretty impressive amount of damage. Whatever this plastic stuff is, it¡¯s a damn good conduit for magic.

    ¡°Hey, Pearl, did you feel the thing inside the mound any clearer during that?¡± I ask as I step away from the burbling basin, not willing to take any extra risk.

    Pearl purses her lips in concentration. ¡°I¡­ um¡­ sort of? Sorry, I was kind of busy arguing with the tree. Can you do it again? I¡¯ll watch more closely this time.¡±

    Another tiny rumble begins beneath my feet, set off by my projectile still¡­ well¡­ existing. I gesture at the mound for Pearl to harden her focus, and with an accompaniment of creaks and groans from the tree, she leans forward while narrowing her eyes. The splurt of plastic under my feet barely lowers the outermost shield to four-fifths of its total durability, and I step to the side as I wait for Pearl¡¯s verdict.

    ¡°There was a little¡­ more of something when it happened. Honestly, it just felt like when it was throwing plastic chunks at you.¡± She says as she tilts her head back in thought. ¡°But if it felt exactly the same, then does it mean it doesn¡¯t matter how much it puts into an attack?¡±

    I nod along in agreement. ¡°Just the fact that it attacks is enough.¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Pearl smiles and claps her hands. ¡°It¡¯s siphoning magic from the tree, but it must have to do something when it fires. Maybe if we can keep it firing constantly, we can get a better look at it. How many more of those projectiles can you keep up?¡±

    ¡°A few.¡± I fan my fingers out, holding four coins in each hand. My awareness strains as I push spells into them, but holds strong. ¡°Tree guy¨Cif you feel the plastic loosen it¡¯s hold on you, do everything you can to push it out. Got it?¡±

    A quick creak that Pearl doesn¡¯t need to translate is my answer. I grin and toss all the coins out, tracing a mental path for each of them to follow towards the mound. Then it hits me. One huge blow wouldn''t have been enough to shatter my shields and send me flying¨Cbut one to break them and a follow-up definitely would. And since I put two projectiles on it last time¡­ well, that would explain that.

    Hopefully that means the mound sees each separate projectile as their own thing, not one collective spell. I hold my breath as a plastic basin emerges under my feet. My second projectile hits. Then my third. Before the fourth hits another bottle cap sized basin opens up, and I let out the barely held breath¨Cthey count as separate things.

    Which means I¡¯m not going to nearly kill myself again.

    One by one, the little eruptions go off. Little by little, Pearl¡¯s concentration turns to curiosity. And, finally, her curiosity shifts to outright excitement as she hops from one foot to the other and points repeatedly at the mound.

    ¡°There! It¡¯s there! Right in the middle¨Cthere¡¯s something in the plastic!¡±

    Awesome. How the hell am I going to get it? It¡¯s not like my skin can survive molten plastic, and I¡­ shields. Duh. I silently chide myself as Pearl urges me on while eruptions slowly work away at my outermost shield. Just as the first shield shatters I reach the mound, which doesn¡¯t look any different, but my awareness is a totally different beast.

    Where there was once a solid mound, it now feels like a pile of loose snow. And through that loose snow I can feel something perfectly round with a single barely protruding line. It doesn¡¯t feel anything like the plastic, but it also feels like a perfect part of the plastic. Trying to think of how that doesn¡¯t work at all just gives me a magical headache, so instead, I just thrust my arm into the plastic and start rooting around.

    The resistance is immeasurable. The distance between the edge of the plastic and the thing inside is infeasible. Yet somehow, my hand glides through those impossibilities and wraps the edge of a shield around the round thing. It¡¯s perfectly solid and immobile, yet it beats like a living heart. I give it a questing tug, just to see how stuck it is.

    My back slams against the ground. I blink a few times to push away the discomfort, then slowly sit up as I scan my body for injuries. There¡¯s none at first glance, so I carefully get to my feet and look around. Flowers and wreaths tell me I¡¯m still in the graveyard, but there¡¯s no giant plastic mound or hardening puddles of plastic remnants to be seen.

    A giant tree appears right next to me.

    ¡°Gah!¡± I yelp, then twist my face into a frown. ¡°What did you do?¡±

    The tree creaks ever so slightly, almost like a quiet laugh. Pearl frowns, then glances down and gasps.

    ¡°Shelby. Look at your hand.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow, then do as she says. Sure enough, there¡¯s something in my palm¨Ca small orb, about the size of an eyeball, with a stone wreath hovering around it. The words Marywell Den are etched into the tiny wreath, somehow confirming that this is indeed the wreath we found. As I turn, the wreath turns in the opposite direction, keeping the words etched into it facing the same way like north on a compass. I look up at the tree, a thousand questions held back by one that needs to be asked first.

    ¡°Who is Marywell Den?¡±

 Chapter 139: No Help At All

    The tree rumbles, sways, creaks, and disappears. I take a step back in disbelief. It didn¡¯t just¡­ there¡¯s no goddamn way. After I got rid of a problem it¡¯s had for months? How the hell can it abandon me without saying anything?!

    No. I refuse to believe it. There wasn¡¯t even any Worth for destroying the mound. It has to be leaving to check something. Yeah. Maybe it has a ledger book or¡­ a list of everyone that¡¯s been buried here. All it has to do is go check it and report back.

    I stand in that spot for close to a minute. A fake smile crawls up my lips the entire time until it feels like the edges of my mouth are going to rip open and crack all the way up to my ears.

    ¡°Shelby.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    Pearl purses her lips. ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to hear it, but¡­¡±

    ¡°I am very aware.¡± I say tersely. ¡°It¡¯s pretty much just proving a point now.¡±

    ¡°Then we should get moving, shouldn¡¯t we?¡± Pearl gestures in Clutter¡¯s direction. ¡°Just because the tree wasn¡¯t any help, it doesn¡¯t mean the other leads won¡¯t be. Heck, maybe they¡¯ll even tell us more about Marywell Den.¡±

    I nod ever so slightly. ¡°I know that¡¯s the right thing to do.¡±

    ¡°...But you¡¯re really pissed?¡±

    My nod grows in intensity.

    ¡°Yeah, I get it. It¡¯s worth getting pissed off over. You just did something huge for it, and it rewarded you with a little bit of sap and water. No Worth, no information, nothing else.¡± Pearl crosses her arms and frowns. ¡°Wait, the only reason it gave you anything at all is because I told it to. The dang tree was going to run away without giving you anything for your troubles!¡±

    We both seethe in grumbling silence for a few minutes, all hope of the tree coming back slowly withering away. I look down at the strange combination of sphere and wreath in my hand, the words Marywell Den stuck in place just like a compass. At least I got a little bit of information out of this.

    I sigh and send it to my inventory. It disappears completely instead of going into a slot, which means it is a quest item. Just for a quest I don¡¯t have yet.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go. I¡¯m getting sick of looking at this place.¡±

    Pearl nods in agreement. ¡°Good riddance, too.¡±

    I chuckle lightly and walk over to a still cowering Clutter, grab him by the shoulder, and haul him up to his feet. He yelps in surprise and claws at my shoulder, but my remaining shields block anything he could do to me. Once he stops thrashing and snapping his neck around like a tourist trying to take in all of a theme part at once, he lowers his hands and tilts his head to the side.

    ¡°What happened to everything?¡±

    I sigh and shake my head. ¡°Set up the next starway. I¡¯ll fill you in while we walk.¡±

    ¡°...That means we¡¯re leaving, right?¡± His lips curl upwards as his eyes brighten and his tail starts to wag. ¡°We¡¯re done here? So no more tree? We never have to come back?¡±

    ¡°Never say never, but yeah. We¡¯re done here.¡± I glance back at the graves and sneer. ¡°Damn tree is one of the stingiest bastards I¡¯ve ever seen. Couldn¡¯t even give me a few leaves or seeds as thanks for clearing out all that plastic shit.¡±

    Clutter nods vigorously as he grabs my wrist. ¡°They¡¯re known to be horrible hosts and extremely selfish. Just another reason to get away from here as soon as possible!¡±

    With a growing chipper demeanor, Clutter¡¯s spell weaves itself onto the world. Before I can take a step forward he drags me into it, leaving the graveyard behind as what¡¯s going to become a pretty shitty memory. I¨C

    ¡°Ow!¡±

    Heat rises from my palm. I shake my hand in confusion as something drops out of it¨Cfor a brief second hope rises that the tree actually left me something, but as I hiss in discomfort, that hope drains away. Because on the magically¨Ctempered ground is a small sphere and a wreath; the exact same one I just sent to my inventory.

    Except the wreath¡¯s spinning fast enough that I can¡¯t make out the words anymore.

    ¡°The hell?¡± I mutter and lean down to carefully pick it up by the motionless sphere. ¡°Pretty sure it¡¯s not supposed to be doing this.¡±

    Clutter winces and moves in to get a closer look. ¡°If that has location magic built into it, my spell messes with that kind of stuff. It¡¯s probably getting readings from everywhere all at once and can¡¯t decide where to point.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t explain why it leapt out of my inventory, but alright.¡± I stand up and summon another shield to contain the thing, then hang it off my belt. ¡°You ever heard of anyone named ¡®Marywell Den¡¯, Clutter?¡±

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Nope.¡± He tilts his head to the side. ¡°Should I have?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Apparently not. Let¡¯s check out the¨C¡±

    He winces once more, and I roll my eyes as I cut myself off mid-sentence. Clutter already set the destination for this thing, so I¡¯ll just walk until I find out. Being quiet¡¯s gonna make it really damn difficult to explain what happened, though.

    <hr>

    As we reach the end of Clutter¡¯s third starway of the day, he eagerly opens the exit and hops through. He looks back at me, nearly vibrating out of his fur as he stands in the middle of a field of grains, and motions for me to hurry up. I don¡¯t move any faster, since I¡¯m a whole six steps from the edge. He whines quietly as I leave the starway, then bursts into a mess of words the moment it closes.

    ¡°Sowhathappenedinthegraveyard?¡±

    I hold up a hand for him to wait. ¡°Just making sure, this means we¡¯re checking out the monster first? Because I have some healing backlash coming soon-ish, and it won¡¯t be pretty.¡±

    Clutter furiously bobs his head up and down. ¡°It¡¯s just rumors of a monster¨Cno tangible proof. Just a little bit of plastic that anyone could¡¯ve dropped, which is why I left it for so long. There¡¯s a really good chance there won¡¯t be any fighting. So so so¡­ what happened in the graveyard?¡±

    ¡°Walk first. Talk while walking.¡± I gesture at the general area around us. ¡°Set us on the path, then you¡¯ll get your story.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ um¡­ okay¡­¡± Clutter trails off as he turns in place to scan the area. ¡°All these plants look pretty much the same, and my mana¡¯s running kind of low. Give me a minute and I¡¯ll find the right way.¡±

    Works for me. I take a step back to let Clutter do his thing, which apparently costs mana even though I haven¡¯t felt him using any, and pull out my Class Card. With my free hand I take the tiny bauble filled with a no longer spinning wreath and sphere, which points away from Palastia¡¯s walls to the¡­ north? West? It¡¯s perfectly tangential to where I walked in from a few months ago, so whatever direction that is.

    ¡°Wonder if this would actually point us to Marywell.¡± I muse as I spin the bauble in my fingers. ¡°Depending on how big the landmass is, we could use Clutter¡¯s spell to get close-ish to wherever it¡¯s pointing us.¡±

    Pearl considers my words for a few seconds, but just before she can open her mouth¡­

    ¡°Starways are hard to make!¡± Clutter cuts in. ¡°And the country¡¯s really big. If we only have a few days, we¡¯d have to hire a bunch of people and make copies of that thing to find the right place.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Even if it¡¯s pointing directly where we need to go?¡±

    Clutter nods. ¡°Magic things like that usually aren¡¯t simple. It could point us to one place, then switch and start pointing somewhere else. Like a connect-the-dots but with really long walks instead of a pencil.¡±

    ¡°Mm. Good point. Get back to looking.¡±

    He salutes and does exactly that. Pearl waits a few seconds while staring at his back, as if Clutter would burst into conversation once more, and slowly turns her focus over to me.

    ¡°Unfortunately, I think he¡¯s right. But we have something other people don¡¯t¨Cthe beacon. There¡¯s a chance I can transfer all the magical data from the sphere-wreath into the beacon, but there¡¯s also a chance it¡¯ll just get destroyed. Do we want to risk that?¡±

    That¡¯s a good question. On one hand, it might lead us directly to where we want to go. On the other hand, there¡¯s a chance the thing isn¡¯t even done yet. Hell, it could be a complete red herring. Hmm¡­ yeah, not worth it yet.

    ¡°Let¡¯s wait until tomorrow before trying that. Just in case one of these other leads gives better¡­ leads.¡±

    ¡°Wait for what?¡±

    ¡°Not you, Clutter. Keep looking.¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡±

    After a good ten minutes of studying the weird little contraption, Clutter¡¯s ears finally perk up. I hear his tail swishing through the grain as he turns to inform me before he speaks, and his eyes glitter with accomplishment.

    ¡°I found it! The boy said the monster towered over the stalks, but he was standing on a big rock, and I found the big rock!¡± Clutter hurries over and grabs my wrist, then starts insistently pulling me away like a kid who really wants their parents to see something. ¡°I thought it was really weird that I didn¡¯t see it right away, since I¡¯d see a big rock from anywhere, and a farmer wouldn¡¯t let it stay in their fields for very long. Then I thought¨Cwhat if it wasn¡¯t really a rock at all? What if it was a pile of something kept in stasis so it stays fresh longer?¡±

    That sounds like a waste of magic when you can just teleport things. ¡°So what was it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it wasn¡¯t that at all. It¡¯s just what I thought it was. After that, I thought it could be a lot of things¨Cbut then I realized they were all pretty stupid and went back to looking for a rock.¡± Clutter rambles on as he drags me into the thick stalks, shoving them aside with one hand without a care for any that scrape him. ¡°But not just any rock¨Ca rock that doesn¡¯t really exist, so the farmers couldn¡¯t deal with it. A phase rock.¡±

    ¡°A phase rock.¡± I repeat flatly. ¡°Please, explain what the hell that means.¡±

    He tilts his head to the side. ¡°I thought it was pretty obvious. It¡¯s a rock that doesn¡¯t always exist¨Conly when you look at it the right way. So I started looking for signs that kids would ignore because they¡¯re dumb. And tada¨Cthere it is!¡±

    I look around, but all I see are plants. ¡°Where?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not for another thirty seconds or so. But it fit with how I wanted to end that paragraph, so I said it anyway.¡± Clutter says happily. ¡°Just pretend I got the timing right when we¡­ break¡­ into¡­ the¡­¡±

    Before he finishes, the stalks suddenly flatten. Dozens and dozens of them pressed to the ground like thin sheets of paper which form a solid fibrous carpet for us to walk on. It¡¯s a good thirty feet wide, and the shape of a deformed oval with one perfectly flat side.

    ¡°Dang it.¡± Clutter mutters under his breath as he walks up to a sign just out of the flattened zone. ¡°I missed the timing again.¡±

    ¡°Clutter, what the hell is this?¡± I ask as I carefully step further onto the carpet. ¡°Is the rock here? Can we just not see it?¡±

    ¡°Technically, yes. Just read the sign and it¡¯ll explain everything to you.¡±

    He taps the sign, which is a simple square of metal bolted onto a wooden stake and driven into the ground. All the lettering is in a language I don¡¯t understand, but there¡¯s another square welded onto the first with symbols that I recognize from back on Earth.

    ¡®Beware of falling rocks¡¯.

 Chapter 140: When You Look Just Right

    Images of rocks flashing into existence and crushing the hell out of us flash into my mind. I jump backwards as far as I can, and my feet blissfully touch down on the semi-hard soil that houses the insanely tall stalks around us.

    Clutter tilts his head to the side in confusion. ¡°Why¡¯d you do that?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ you¡­ because of the damn falling rocks!¡± I gesture at the sign for emphasis. ¡°What happens if one appears out of nowhere? We¡¯d be pancakes!¡±

    ¡°Oh. I didn¡¯t even think of that.¡± Clutter mumbles to himself, then looks up at the sign. ¡°Well, these aren¡¯t a danger right now, so I don¡¯t think they¡¯d crush us. Not unless someone did exactly what the boy from my info did. Which¡­ is completely possible.¡±

    A shudder works its way down his entire body as he realizes just how close we came to a pointless end. He takes more than a few steps away from the carpet of crushed grains for good measure, then carefully works through the stalks so he stands at what seems like a random place.

    I wait for him to offer an explanation, but he just quietly gets to work. My annoyance at being kept out of the loop goes away after a good thirty seconds, and after almost five minutes of silence, Pearl starts grumbling to herself. That¡¯s my sign to move before my brain gets filled with obscenities from the most adorable voice I¡¯ve ever heard.

    ¡°What¡¯re you looking for now, Clutter?¡± I make my way to his side, careful not to step onto the carpet. ¡°How do we make these rocks¡­ appear? Exist? What¡¯s the right word for it?¡±

    Clutter gently brushes his fingers against the dirt and frowns. ¡°¡®Exist¡¯ is closer to the truth. These rocks are always here, just in a magical place like my spell we just walked through. If we want to see them, we have to find the exact right place that¡¯ll let us see them.¡±

    ¡°Must be hard to find if someone planted stuff under where the rocks appear.¡± I note as I look around. ¡°Nobody¡¯d be stupid enough to make a farm in an interdimensional rockslide.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. You¡¯re right.¡± Clutter stands up and brushes off his pants. ¡°If someone could make the rocks exist from here, they never would¡¯ve planted anything right here. But there¡¯s enough that it looks like the rocks crushed mature plants¨Cwhich means it hadn¡¯t been triggered in a long time. So we need to look for somewhere we can see this exact spot that only a young boy would think to go¡­¡±

    His tail swishes behind him, smacking the stalks like a pair of thunking windchimes as his body quivers with curious energy. It¡¯s a stark contrast to the cowering at the graveyard, that¡¯s for sure. And it only lessens my confidence in bringing him along¨Che needs to be constant. If I can¡¯t account for his actions, he¡¯ll just be a hindrance.

    ¡°Up there!¡±

    Clutter juts a finger off into the distance, pulling my attention back to him. I follow his motion with my eyes to its destination, but it doesn¡¯t fill me with anything close to what I assume he feels.

    ¡°A water tower. You really think people don¡¯t go up there at least semi-regularly?¡± I shoot him a quizzical look. ¡°I bet people go up there at least twice a week for various reasons.¡±

    ¡°The water tower, yes, but not¡­ just¡­ look! Look harder!¡± He insists with pleading eyes.

    I sigh and humor him. The water tower¡¯s not as tall as the ones I¡¯m used to back on Earth¨Cthis one¡¯s about as tall as a barn¨Cand it has obvious spiraling wooden stairs leading up to it. There¡¯s so much graffiti at the very bottom of the tower that you wouldn¡¯t know it¡¯s steel grey if you looked at it from a certain angle, and I can make out more than a few emergency welds. There must be a¡­ homestead or something below it, but I can¡¯t make it out over the stalks.

    ¡°Can¡¯t see anything weird, Clutter. Illuminate.¡±

    He points even harder, like that was the problem. ¡°All the way up there at the top! Can¡¯t you see it?¡±

    The top? I frown and narrow my eyes, the sharpness of which I¡¯m still not quite used to. The graffiti only reaches about halfway up, but from there, it¡¯s completely steel grey. Except for one small thing¨Ca scribble that looks a hell of a lot like a stain. But Clutter seems convinced, so I focus as hard as I can to try and see something in it.

    ¡°It looks like a¡­¡± I trail off and shoot him a glance. ¡°A name?¡±

    He excitedly nods. ¡°Yes! A name! Bustle¨Cthe name of the boy that reported the monster! He was up there!¡±

    ¡°Bustle? Is he a Paindne too?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    ¡°Alright. So, what happens now?¡± I wait for an answer, but get only silence. ¡°Clutter?¡±

    The sounds of footsteps and whipping stalks answers me. I breathe out through my nose and shake my head as a small frown breaches my lips¨Che¡¯s only solidifying my resolve not to let him come. It¡¯d be like taking a golden retriever on a bird watching trip¨Cyou know something¡¯s going to go wrong, but you just don¡¯t know when. I take another few steps into the stalks just in case and wait for whatever¡¯s going to happen.

    I barely have time to tap my foot before a wall of rock blinks into existence. Surprise barely has time to register as I reach forward and touch the rock, my fingers brushing lightly against it as if it weren¡¯t real. But it feels just like a rock. Normal, boring, and definitely not phasing in and out of reality.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°It worked!¡± Clutter yells down from above. ¡°I knew it would work! Don¡¯t look away from the rock¨Cit might disappear if you do. Oh, um¡­ no, I¡¯m not trespassing¡­ it¡¯s for a quest¡­¡±

    As the sounds of angry farmers overtake Clutter¡¯s voice, I chuckle to myself and really take in the boulder. My initial thought is that it¡¯s like the one Clutter already showed me¨Cfull of a bunch of plastic. But the rock looks¡­ normal. Not the weird hexagonal faces from the other one. I knock my knuckles against it, as if that would do anything, then cross my arms.

    ¡°Weird. Pearl, is this¡­ normal?¡±

    She raises an eyebrow. ¡°The rock?¡±

    I nod. ¡°Yeah. Is things phasing in and out of existence based on how you look at them a regular occurrence?¡±

    ¡°Not that I know of. It¡¯s probably something the system did.¡± She stares at the boulder with narrowed eyes. I¡¯ll keep an eye on it while you do whatever you want to do. That should stop it from disappearing.¡±

    Well, I don¡¯t really know what I can do with it, so¡­ yeah. I drum my fingers against my arm and take in the rock one more time¨Call that¡¯s left is to climb it or break it. And there¡¯s only one order that¡¯s smart to do it in. Walking around the rock to find the best footholds takes a few seconds, and actually climbing it is even easier.

    As I pull myself onto the not-at-all flat top, I look out over the grains¨Cbut just barely. The rock¡¯s only about three quarters as tall as the stalks, making it much wider than it is tall, and adding my own height to it just barely lets me get a good look. Now that I can see further I get a better view of the water tower¨Cwhich is about twenty feet taller than I initially thought. And¡­ there¡¯s Clutter, tail tucked between his legs, apologizing to a dozen people of various species.

    ¡°If he can get up there so quickly, he can run away just as fast.¡± I note with mild disapproval. ¡°Either get in and get out before they see you or actually get their permission¨Cdon¡¯t get caught and apologize profusely. We¡¯re on a time limit here.¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°He got caught, and there¡¯s nothing we can do about that. Should we wait for him or try to replicate whatever that kid saw?¡±

    ¡°No idea how we¡¯d do that, but sure.¡± I turn away from clutter and my breath catches in my throat.

    It isn¡¯t just one of them. Dozens. Hundreds. Maybe even thousands of them stride through the fields, their massive gangly legs leaving nothing behind where they touch down. The bottoms of their legs¨Cwhich are just long poles without feet¨Ctouch down on the tip of the stalks like solid ground, the grains not even bending under their massive size. I swallow as I look up at the closest one, it¡¯s body straining against the clouds above, and words fail me.

    Not because my vocabulary sucks, but because it¡¯s just¡­ not. It¡¯s shapes. It¡¯s colours. It has a texture. But my brain can¡¯t make out something physical for me to latch onto. I¡¯d be making shit up, and these things don¡¯t deserve to have false rumors spread about them. I watch in stunned awe for what feels like minutes as they follow one another like a river of living things, more taking their place on the horizon as others disappear into the distance.

    ¡°They¡¯re beautiful.¡± Pearl whispers with awe. ¡°I thought all the ___________ were ________. But they¡¯re just¡­ here.¡±

    I wince at the system¡¯s censorship. ¡°Censorship, Pearl. You knew these things?¡±

    She nods without taking her eyes off the things. ¡°They were¡­ um¡­ there when I was. I think saying anything else would trigger the censorship. But they definitely were completely real, not this¡­ half-real existence we¡¯re looking at.¡±

    ¡°Amazing. So the system didn¡¯t just murder or jail the things it didn¡¯t like¨Cit can banish them too.¡± I grimace and look down at the rock, which didn¡¯t disappear when we looked away. Maybe us being on top of it is just as good as looking. ¡°Why would my skill say this is better for the quest than the river? There was actual plastic in the river, but these things just look like¡­ like¡­¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡± Pearl offers.

    I nod without thinking. ¡°Yeah. They don¡¯t look like anything¨Ccertainly not magical plastic. But my skill led us here, so there¡¯s got to be some kind of a lead to the quest. Maybe we do need to destroy the boulder.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not a great idea. If we do that, I think we lose access to¡­ this.¡± Pearl gestures at the scene in front of us. ¡°Whatever this quest is, those __¨CI mean, things, are much more important. They¡¯re¡­ kind of¡­ um¡­ I don¡¯t think I can explain it right. But they¡¯re really important.¡±

    That¡¯s news to me. ¡°Tell me this¨Cif we managed to get these things back to full-time reality, what would happen?¡±

    ¡°Magic.¡± Pearl says without hesitation. ¡°Raw, untamed, __________ magic. We can¡¯t lose this view, Shelby. I don¡¯t know how we can do anything about this, but we can¡¯t lose it.¡±

    ¡°Alright, no destroying the rock. There¡¯s a chance that screws us out of the quest, but I¡¯m not completely convinced.¡± I look over my shoulder at Clutter, who hasn¡¯t managed to break away from the crowd. ¡°Why¡¯d he think this was a lead, anyway? Everything else seemed way closer to the plastic than this does.¡±

    Pearl nods along. ¡°Maybe the kid described the monster like it was made of plastic? But¡­ didn¡¯t he say the kid only saw one of them? I don''t think this is the kind of thing that gets left out by accident.¡±

    ¡°Good call. Looks like we need to find the kid. Or wait for Clutter to find him.¡±

    I shift to sit cross-legged on the rock. My eye level dips as I go down, and the world shifts with it. All the monsters disappear like smoke in the wind, and as I settle into a seated position, something new takes their place. A much smaller version of one of the monsters, walking through the field on spindly legs, taking care not to step on the stalks¨Cnot ignoring them completely like the huge ones.

    ¡°That much of a shift changed everything?¡± I mutter to myself. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that should be impossible. How¡¯d Clutter get the rock to appear if it¡¯s that finicky?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t have anything close to an answer this time.¡±

    I pat Pearl¡¯s shell reassuringly. ¡°Now you know how I always feel. Maybe this one¡¯s¨C¡±

    A wet splat rips my attention back to the monster. I catch the tail end of something falling from the main body, colourful and pristine, as the main body starts to crumble to dust. No words form on my tongue as the monster falls, its body dissipating before it can hit the ground, and another rises from the stalks. But before it stands tall, the colours in its body muddle together to form the uniform strangeness that all the monsters look like.

    For a few seconds, though, it looked like the entire new monster was made of malleable plastic.

 Chapter 141: Unintelligent Design

    I blink repeatedly, reach up to rub my eyes, and take a deep breath. This is the second example of the plastic stuff acting like it¡¯s alive in one day. Some extremely important piece of the puzzle has to be staring me directly in the face, but I¡¯m too damn blind to see it.

    ¡°Can you feel a core in that thing, Pearl?¡±

    She furrows her brow in concentration. ¡°I can sort of feel¡­ something. It¡¯s nothing like how the thing at the graveyard felt, though¨Cthis is so much closer to actually being alive. But it¡¯s really bad at being alive, so it¡¯s going through its life cycle super quickly.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s life cycle?¡± I stare up at the thing as it solidifies. ¡°Did we just witness the one before this give birth, die, and wither away in five seconds?¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°That¡¯s my leading theory with how it¡¯s magic feels, at least.¡±

    I try to think of something to say about that, but my words fail me. The thing, right before my eyes, is effectively growing up. In however many minutes, hours, or even days, it¡¯ll pop out another blob of plastic and start the cycle anew. But¡­ is it actually making more plastic? Or is it just constantly recycling the same stuff?

    ¡°We need to get closer to it. Which means we need Clutter to get the hell back here. Keep your eyes on the monster.¡± I tell Pearl as I turn to face Clutter, who is still somehow not done with the farmers. ¡°CLUTTER! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!¡±

    He stands bolt upright and snaps off a salute, then freezes in place. I frown at him when he stops moving, but then he starts to shake as his neck cranes skyward.

    ¡°He never looked up and saw the monsters.¡± I whisper to myself in disbelief. ¡°How can he be this ignorant?¡±

    One by one, the farmers and their families all turn to look at what has Clutter tongue-tied. Gasps and screams echo out one by one, and I hear more than a few calls for someone to contact a horizonguard. Meaning we don¡¯t have much time to do this¨Cespecially since they¡¯re getting this freaked out over one single monster. If I stand up just a little more, I¡¯d trigger more than a few heart attacks.

    ¡°CLUTTER!¡± I yell once more.

    He finches, tears his eyes away from the monster, and focuses on me. I fully expect to see reluctance or fear, just like at the graveyard, but all I can see is glittering excitement. Which puts his shaking into a brand new light. With a wide smile he sprints away from the group, which now have bigger things to care about, and disappears into the stalks. Rustling gets closer and closer as he approaches, and soon enough, his excitement runs smack into the rock I¡¯m standing on.

    ¡°It¡¯s real?! I thought it was just a story!¡± He says as he scrambles onto the rock. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m here now! What do you need me to¨Cyipe!¡±

    Before he can stand tall, I yank his arm to force him to my eye level. He stares at me with confusion, but shifts into a seated position with bouncing energy anyway.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stand up¨Cwe¡¯re insanely lucky none of you decided to look up for about a minute.¡± I half-explain, then grimace at the idea of Clutter getting too curious for his own good. ¡°Actually, here¡¯s the real reason¨Cat this eyelevel, we can see the thing the kid reported. If you stand any taller, you get monstrously huge things towering in the skies and walking over the land like they don¡¯t exist. You can come check that later, but for now, we need to do this.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll come back later.¡± He says as he bobs his entire upper half. ¡°What do you need me to do right now? Just stare at the monster for a little bit so it doesn¡¯t disappear?¡±

    I wasn¡¯t expecting him to get it perfectly right on the first go. ¡°...Yeah, exactly that. Keep staring at it until I get close enough, and once I actually touch it, you should be good to move. If a horizonguard shows up, run like hell if they don¡¯t come as a bunch of ribbons and a light breeze.¡±

    Clutter briefly looks at me like I have two heads, but his unbridled enthusiasm overrides it in a second. He stares up at the monster, completely enraptured. A stark difference from the graveyard, that¡¯s for sure.

    ¡°That tree really did a number on you, didn¡¯t it?¡±

    A shudder cuts through the excited shaking, and Clutter closes his mouth tight. ¡°Yes. It did. Can we leave it at that?¡±

    I nod and shift to the edge of the boulder. ¡°Consider it dropped. Can I trust you to keep an eye on the monster?¡±

    ¡°You definitely can. This time.¡± His smile fades, and for a brief second, the self-pitying Clutter returns. ¡°I won¡¯t screw up. Again. Um¡­ again-again. Sorry for how useless I was at the graveyard.¡±

    ¡°Apology accepted.¡± I slide off the boulder, and in my awareness, I feel how long it takes Clutter to go back to being enthusiastic. He must¡¯ve felt how his apology was the only thing I accepted from that situation¨Cnothing more.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Pearl quietly sighs and shakes her head. ¡°He¡¯s a good person, and I want us to be able to trust him, but he¡¯s just¡­ not consistent at all. If we¡¯re in a cave, and he gets a little distracted, we could be five tunnels down by the time he realizes.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me.¡± I quietly agree. ¡°We just have to hope the quest doesn¡¯t force us into groups.¡±

    ¡°Because we don¡¯t have the right to completely exclude him. Heck, he did most of the work before this¨Che has more justification than we do.¡± Pearl glances back at Clutter. ¡°That¡¯s if we even find the quest in the first place. The only real clue we have is ¡®Marywell Den¡¯ and the bauble.¡±

    I brush aside a tall stalk and step into the farm once more. Pearl goes quiet as we both focus our collective awareness on the monster, which is still pretty damn far away. I stare up through the stalks to try and get a better look at it, but it¡¯s not a good angle. So I walk, shoving aside stalk after stalk and feeling my awareness latch onto the thing little by little. As it does, sensations come with it.

    Instantly, I see what Pearl meant. The thing feels like a living creature inside all that plastic, with organs and muscles and bones, but they¡¯re all¡­ wrong. For one, I can feel the individual organs, muscles, and bones¨Csomething I definitely can¡¯t do for any other living thing. Maybe I¡¯ll feel a muscle tensing close to the surface, or a bone breaking, but definitely not the almost anatomical diagram I can sense with my awareness alone.

    Each of the legs has exactly one bone¨Can extremely long spinal-cord like thing that¡¯s all fused together to make said single bone. It breaks whenever the thing¡¯s legs bend, and fuses the moment it goes straight in what has to be the least efficient display of natural design I¡¯ve ever seen. And it doesn¡¯t get better from there¨Cthe leg muscle wraps around it like an elastic band taped to either side of the bone, and it must be what helps crack the bone. Then you get up to the body, which is just a mass of organs inside of a bunch of ribs held together with muscle fiber.

    It¡¯s like what you¡¯d get if¡­ uh¡­ honestly, I¡¯ve got nothing. This thing shouldn¡¯t be alive¨Cthe heart has no veins connecting it to anything, the brain is just bumping up against the stomach, and the intestines are¡­ just trailing down the left leg like a tail on the inside.

    ¡°What the actual hell.¡± I murmur in disgusted disbelief as I finally catch up to the thing. ¡°Are the big ones¡¯ biology this messed up too?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head, seemingly just as disgusted and confused as I am. ¡°They¡¯re closer to me than a creature with organs. This is just¡­ it¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s like someone tried to make the worst anatomy possible for the¡­ those creatures.¡±

    ¡°Someone, huh. You think the system did this?¡±

    ¡°Directly? No. But something created the plastic for the quest, and the system created whatever created that thing. So technically, it is at fault.¡± A smile plays onto her lips. ¡°The system isn¡¯t as hands-on for everything as it is for me, you, Illumisia, and the other Worths.¡±

    ¡°Then literally everything else has it good.¡± I mutter and walk right up to one of the thing¡¯s legs, trying to ignore the horrible cracking of breaking bones being walked on. ¡°The thing¡¯s brain isn¡¯t connected to anything, so it probably can¡¯t even feel pain. Killing it would be putting it out of its misery.¡±

    ¡°Be careful.¡± Pearl warns as I take out a coin. ¡°It¡¯s still technically being seen into existence.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but once I do this,¡± I wrap my hand around the thing¡¯s leg and shudder in disgust as my fingers sink into it. The thing has the texture of rotting flesh. Whatever I was about to say dies on my tongue as I whip a projectile straight at its other ¡®knee¡¯. ¡°Just¡­ it needs to die.¡±

    Pearl nods in agreement. My projectile pierces the thing¡¯s knee straight through, and it instantly tilts to the side before coming crashing down. I step to the side, hand still holding the leg, and wait for the wet squelch of it hitting the ground. Instead, I get a dull thump that barely displaces some stalks.

    ¡°Alright, that should do it CLUTTER! YOU CAN COME¨C¡±

    The leg twitches, and I throw up a shield before it can hit me straight in the side. A web of thick cracks spreads from the point of impact, then the ¡®foot¡¯ pushes off, shattering it into a spray of magical shards. I grunt as my grip pulls me along for the ride, forced to follow the far-too-long motion of one of the creature¡¯s long strides¨Cexcept it¡¯s going nowhere.

    ¡°SHELBY! ARE YOU OKAY?¡± Clutter yells from off in the distance. ¡°I¡¯M COMING OVER THERE RIGHT NOW!¡±

    I groan and shake my head, then look around. A crescent of stalks sheared right down to little nubs on the ground is all that¡¯s left in the wake of the thing¡¯s leg. That easily could¡¯ve been me if I didn¡¯t have my awareness. And it could easily be Clutter if he bursts through here unaware of the danger.

    ¡°STAY BACK, CLUTTER!¡± I call into the rustling stalks, and the sounds die instantly. ¡°The thing¡¯s dangerous, so make a huge detour and meet me near the main body.¡±

    ¡°Okay! Thanks for the warning!¡± He replies, his voice already moving in a safe direction.

    I sigh in relief and turn to the leg. Staying here is pointlessly dangerous, and I have to get close to the main body anyway. Carefully, and making sure I keep my hand glued to the leg, I start to trail up to the main body. Gunk sloughs off the monster like rotting dough, revealing the ¡®bone¡¯ underneath that looks exactly like my awareness said it would. I shudder and push the sensations out of my mind as I work my way up to the main body with Clutter rustling in the stalks a good thirty feet from danger.

    He pops out just as the main body comes into view. ¡°I¡¯m here! Oh, whoah, that¡¯s gross. It looks like something died and you squished it into a big ball after everything started to decay.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the vivid image, Clutter.¡± I shake my head and wait for the half-leg to make a sweep, then step in close to the fifteen-foot wide sphere of disgusting material. ¡°At least it doesn¡¯t smell. You want to do the honours of digging for the prize this time?¡±

    A hopeful, yet cautious look overtakes Clutter. ¡°Can I really?¡±

    I¡¯d intended that to be sarcastic. I¡¯d also expected him to decline. But hey, if he wants to dig around in the plastic equivalent of rotting flesh for whatever passes for a clue, then he can be my guest.

    ¡°You¡¯ve earned it, buddy.¡± I say with a smile and make room for him.

 Chapter 142: Nonsensical Biology

    Clutter grins, jumps at the main body, and thrusts a hand straight into the monster with a sticky squelch. I grimace and half look away, but my curiosity forces me to at least partially watch him root around in the monster¡¯s innards. He hums happily to himself as his claws tear through the plasticy outside, scour away patches of plastic, and make a perfect square for him to look into.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the precision?¡± I ask as I lean in to try and get a better look. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you just rip and tear into it?¡±

    His expression turns aghast. ¡°How could I do that? We know absolutely nothing about this thing, it¡¯s biology, or how important it is to the quest. What if I accidentally severed its brainstem, and that killed it, and then we failed the quest? I don¡¯t want to screw up like that¨Cit¡¯s one of the ways I¡¯ve never screwed up before.¡±

    I tilt my head to the side. ¡°Can¡¯t you see¡­ ah, wait, right. Sorry¨Cforgot something important; you¡¯re doing fine work, so just keep at it.¡±

    He raises an eyebrow, but gets right back to it a second later while he slowly looks away from me. For a second there I almost forgot that it was my awareness that let me see the strangeness of the monster¡¯s biology¨Cand that it¡¯s something Clutter still has to discover. Might as well let him think he¡¯s the first one seeing it, since his confidence seems to be running a little low for him.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ that¡¯s strange¡­ ick, how do these even connect¡­ oh, they don¡¯t.¡± Clutter mumbles to himself, deep in thought. ¡°Wait, is this the brain? Why is it so¡­ hard? Shelby, come look at this.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯ve you got for me?¡± I ask as he shifts to make room for me at the window. As I kneel down next to him, my hand still firmly in the monster, I get a good look into what I¡¯ve already seen. ¡°Wow, it really looks like all this just got thrown in here randomly.¡±

    Clutter nods vigorously. ¡°The organs are all the wrong sizes, they aren¡¯t connected by anything, and they¡¯re all¡­ well¡­ here, just see for yourself.¡±

    He grabs my free hand, pulls it close, and places something hidden in his hand on my palm. It feels like a sphere, but with a slight bulge on one side. I don¡¯t need my awareness to guess that he just put an eyeball in my palm, though it doesn¡¯t feel anywhere close to as slimy as I expected. Honestly, it¡¯s closer to the texture of a piece of lacquered wood.

    I open my hand to confirm my suspicions, and sure enough, an eyeball quite literally stares back at me. Except it¡¯s a little wrong¨Cthe white is extremely yellow, the iris is blue, and the purple pupil looks like it burst at some point and is now bleeding into both the iris and the white. Can¡¯t even make out what shape it was supposed to be in the first place. But as I stare at it, the bleeding pupil slowly overtakes more and more of the eye, even though it feels like it should be completely solid.

    ¡°How¡¯s it doing this?¡± I shift the eyeball around, and of course, there¡¯s nothing that would connect it to any other organ. ¡°The thing¡¯s as solid as a rock, but there¡¯s movement in it. That¡¯d be like watching a black fleck in marble take over the white parts.¡±

    I turn to hand the eyeball back, and all I see is a vigorously wagging tail and a pair of legs sticking out of the hole in the monster.

    ¡°I know, right? Isn¡¯t it cool?¡± The muffled lower half of Clutter responds. ¡°Everything in here is like that¨Cthey¡¯re all kind of frozen in time, but the outside of the monster¡¯s still moving. Almost like the inside died but didn¡¯t think to tell the outside just yet. Do you want to feel the brain? It¡¯s just knocking around in here, and I don¡¯t think the monster even needs it.¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. Just yell if you see anything important.¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡± He pops out, and in both hands, he carries a heart the size of an air conditioner. ¡°Look at how big this is! I bet some gem collector would pay a lot for a heartstone like this!¡±

    I stare blankly at Clutter while he stares expectantly at me. ¡°...Is a heartstone something real? Am I ruining your pun through a language barrier?¡±

    He pouts as he carefully places the heart on the ground. ¡°Yes, you are. I¡¯ll show you what a heartstone is when we get to the jewelry shop. Then you¡¯ll see how funny I am.¡±

    ¡°Sure, buddy. Sure.¡± I smile as he frowns, then plunges right back into the monster. ¡°Tell me if you see anything that looks¡­ more plasticy than anything else. It¡¯s the entire reason we¡¯re here, after all.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really see anything like that right now, but if I do, I¡¯ll be sure to tell you.¡± He says as he tosses something that looks like a human-sized kidney out of the monster. ¡°Hard organs, mushy skin, muscles that are like rubber bands under a lot of tension, and bones that bend way too easily yet still¡­¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    He trails off, then yelps as a loud snap fills the air.

    ¡°Snap like they¡¯re super hard.¡± He finishes like nothing happened. ¡°Nothing in this monster is like it should be, and I don¡¯t even know if it needs a single one of these things to live. I mean, I just took its heart out a second ago, and it¡¯s still kicking!¡±

    The other half of Clutter exits the monster, carrying with him two armfuls of organs, muscles, and sloughed off plastic skin. He lets it all drop to the ground with far less care than he gave the heart, and then he stares at the monster to see its reaction. When it continues like nothing even happened, he crosses his arms and huffs.

    ¡°Purely magical creatures, like elementals, don¡¯t have organs at all. They just have a core that sort of works like them, and if they look like they have other organs, it¡¯s either to deceive you or a personal style choice. But this thing¡­¡± He kicks something that looks like half a bone and frowns. ¡°There¡¯s no core in there, and it doesn¡¯t seem to need any of its organs. The only thing I can think of is that it¡¯s some kind of raised corpse, but there¡¯s not enough magic here for that.¡±

    The mention of a raised corpse catches my attention. ¡°You mean like necromancy?¡±

    Clutter hums and raises his chin. ¡°Not¡­ quite. Necromancy is more¡­ um¡­ I don¡¯t really know how to explain it, but it has to do with spirits and stuff, not just the dead body. You¡¯d have to find a necromancer for that, and they¡¯re way too popular to be hanging around here.¡±

    ¡°Popular? Necromancers?¡± I shake my head in disbelief. ¡°I would''ve thought everyone hated them.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Clutter raises an eyebrow. ¡°Do humans not want to talk to their dead family, or pull people¡¯s spirits from their bodies so they can have super-intense life saving surgeries?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Guess we just have vastly different ideas of what a necromancer does.¡±

    Clutter nods. ¡°Probably. Dizzy¡¯s good friends with one¨CI¡¯ll ask him to introduce you in a few months when they aren¡¯t so busy. But we got sidetracked; do any of these organs give you any ideas? Because they don¡¯t give me any ideas.¡±

    A glance down at the organs tells me nothing my awareness didn¡¯t a few minutes ago. But there¡¯s still the fact that my skill told me to be here. So there has to be something inside of the monster that we¡¯re missing.

    ¡­Or it was supposed to lead us somewhere, and we just crippled it. Well, let¡¯s just hope that isn¡¯t the truth.

    ¡°Keep looking. There¡¯s bound to be something important in there.¡±

    A quick salute, and Clutter dives right back in. Fully and completely. He disappears into the monster with a small whine of disgust, and then hollow footsteps ring out as he rises to his feet in there. A thud and a yelp join in as the top bulges ever so slightly, and I can imagine that Clutter just hit his head on one of the strange ribs.

    ¡°Be careful in there. We don¡¯t know how it¡¯ll react.¡± I lean down even further and peer into the monster¡¯s not-quite-corpse. ¡°See anything that looks like it could be important there?¡±

    ¡°Nope, nothing. Just more weirdness.¡± Clutter shuffles around, his back bent slightly and awkwardly as he tries to get a look around. ¡°More bones, more organs, more everything. Whatever this thing is, I don¡¯t know how it¡¯s related to the plastic.¡±

    I¡­ wait, didn¡¯t I tell him about how the thing started off as plastic? ¡­Nope, I didn¡¯t. Well, that¡¯s an oversight on my end.

    I smack the monster with my free hand. ¡°All this is made from the plastic, Clutter. I watched one of these things crumble to dust, and it looked like it birthed a hunk of plastic as it died.¡±

    He frowns and turns to me. ¡°And that plastic turned into this one?¡±

    ¡°Sure did.¡±

    ¡°Well that¡­ does absolutely nothing to help.¡± Clutter taps his tail against the ground as he gathers up organs in his arms. ¡°Even if this is some new kind of clue, it¡¯ll take days to get it analyzed. Maybe you should try touching that thing you got from the¡­ that place to an organ. It could trigger a reaction. Or not.¡±

    I shrug and carefully take the ¡®Marywell Den¡¯ wreathe and sphere out of its protective bauble. ¡°It¡¯s worth a shot.¡±

    Bauble in hand, I lean down and press it against the heart. Absolutely nothing happens. No magic, no sensations, no hints. I frown and move it around, just in case it¡¯s the placement that¡¯s the problem, but no dice. It just doesn¡¯t do anything.

    ¡°Alright, so that was a dud.¡± I reform the shields around the bauble, then look back into the monster. ¡°Got any other ideas?¡±¡¯

    Clutter hums to himself in thought. ¡°Maybe¡­ no, that¡¯s not it. What about¡­ no, no, that wouldn¡¯t work either. We could grab some¡­ no, they¡¯re made to order and wouldn¡¯t be ready for a week. Hmm.¡±

    While he thinks, I take the time to really look around inside the monster. We don¡¯t know if the one before this one was the exact same one the kid saw, or if that one gave birth to this one a while ago. There¡¯s also the fact that, for some reason, the monster is still here. The other procession of unbelievably huge things were walking somewhere, but this one is almost exactly where it was seen before. So¡­ why?

    I purse my lips and close my fist around a bunch of not-quite-fleshy, not-quite-rotting plastic as I realize something; there¡¯s one more group of questions that I haven¡¯t even bothered to ask yet. Questions that I probably should¡¯ve started this entire thing off with.

    Why the hell did the plastic take the shape of those other monsters? How does it mimic things in the first place? And why did it do it so badly?

 Chapter 143: Plastic Egg

    ¡°Oh, hey! Something just appeared there!¡± Clutter calls out before I can think any further and dives into the monster. ¡°It looks like¡­ huh. Is this an egg or a fetus? I can¡¯t really tell. Whatever it is, it¡¯s pulsing a whole lot and¨Coh my goodness.¡±

    I step into the monster behind him as he makes room for me. It smells¡­ like absolutely nothing at all. Not that it doesn¡¯t have a smell, but that I physically can¡¯t smell anything at all from the second I stepped in here. The scent of wet ground and dry grain seem hundreds of miles away, and even the sweat and blood on my shirt lost their scents.

    With a wrinkle of my nose, I kneel down over the thing. ¡°How come you didn¡¯t mention this smell-blocking thing?¡±

    Clutter tilts his head to the side and looks at me with wide eyes. ¡°You can¡¯t smell anything? I thought it was masking my sense of smell a little, but if you can¡¯t smell anything at all, then I guess it¡¯s stronger at whatever this is than I thought. Ooh, do you think it¡¯s a smell that¡¯s so strong it cancels all the others out, but we don¡¯t have the right sensors in our noses to detect it?¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s the truth, then I don¡¯t know how we¡¯d prove it.¡± I nudge his tail with the back of my hand to reveal the egg-fetus-thing. The moment I get my eyes on it¡­ I have to admit he was right. ¡°Wow. You weren¡¯t kidding.¡±

    The entire thing pulses with a dull heartbeat, as if blood is actually pumping through it, and I can see the start of two limbs curled up around it like headphones wrapped around a portable speaker. That would be enough for me to say ¡®fetus¡¯, but there¡¯s a sheen all around it¨Cone that definitely looks like a shell¨Cand a layer of fluid between the thing itself and the shell.

    ¡°Well, it probably won¡¯t matter soon enough, so let¡¯s just go with ¡®egg¡¯ for now.¡± I lean in and gently rest my hand on the thing. Unlike the monster, this thing feels warm and alive. And¡­ squishy. ¡°Eurgh, that¡¯s not a pleasant sensation. Think we should take it out?¡±

    I turn to see Clutter¡¯s reaction and get an eyeful of his entire face just inches from mine. A frown spreads over my lips as I try to feel at my awareness, but it feels¡­ weird. Not weakened, and definitely not missing, but¡­ overwhelmed? Sure, that¡¯s close enough. There¡¯s something here that my awareness is sensing so hard that I can barely look for what I want to look at.

    ¡­Just like how Clutter can still smell a little. Hrm.

    ¡°How aren¡¯t you excited by this?¡± Clutter whispers loudly and pats the egg. ¡°It¡¯s made of the plastic we¡¯re looking for! This has to be the clue!¡±

    Pearl shakes her head before I can say anything. ¡°Nope; this is just another monster. Whatever we¡¯re looking for isn¡¯t in the egg¨Cit¡¯s still here somewhere.¡±

    I shake my head and take full credit for Pearl¡¯s awareness. ¡°It¡¯s just another one of these monsters. Whatever we¡¯re looking for is somewhere else in here.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ how¡¯s that possible? I¡¯ve looked at everything in here!¡± Clutter spreads his arms and motions at the entirety of the monster for emphasis. ¡°If there¡¯s anything else in here, it¡¯s got to be invisible. And scentless. And completely incorporeal. Which means that no matter how long we look, we won¡¯t find it!¡±

    He breaths heavily as he finishes, obviously overtaken by a passion that I don¡¯t reciprocate. I stare at him for a few seconds while his chest heaves, his arms outstretched as if he isn¡¯t finished showing me that he made his point.

    ¡°If it¡¯s unfindable, then we should move on.¡± I stand and wipe the gunk off my knees. ¡°There¡¯s something here we don¡¯t have the tools to find. Maybe we need a spell, or a skill, or there could be some variant of the plastic we don¡¯t have that we need. Could even be the stuff from the graveyard that the tree took for itself.¡±

    Clutter grimaces and looks around desperately. ¡°No! I¡­ there has to be something else we can do. Everything else until this point has been using phase stuff to find these, so maybe we can just use the phase stuff to find this thing. That would explain why it¡¯s unfindable right now, right? Because it technically doesn¡¯t exist right now, but it¡¯s leaking into this reality, right?¡±

    I raise both eyebrows and shrug. ¡°Hey, if you think you can find it, I won¡¯t stop you from looking. My problem is that we have no idea where to start looking from, and my skill¡¯s on cooldown so it can¡¯t help look for it. Unless you¡¯ve got some scout spells and or skills you haven¡¯t shown me yet?¡±

    ¡°Mrgh.¡± Clutter mumbles, pouts, and looks away. ¡°I¡¯m specialized in movement and information gathering. Not in finding hidden secrets. If I was, I would¡¯ve had an answer for you when you came back, not a bunch of leads and a little more plastic.¡±

    ¡°You can specialize Classes? No, I guess I already knew that, but¡­ how?¡± I ask as I turn to watch the opening for danger. ¡°Can you buy spells from your Class Card? Do your skills actually change depending on what you want to do?¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°They do.¡± Clutter confirms, but now that I¡¯m looking away, I can¡¯t really feel him in my awareness. That bothers me more than I thought it would. ¡°There¡¯s a bunch of starting skills, and depending on how well you do on your quests and tests, you can choose some. What you choose locks you out of other things, so if you do really well, they call you a ¡®true scout¡¯ because you aren¡¯t locked out of everything. Or a true whatever else you are. Isn¡¯t it the same for you humans?¡±

    I shrug and don¡¯t offer him an answer. Only a moment of silence answers before a long breath of frustration escapes from Clutter¡¯s lips, and a glance over my shoulder confirms that he¡¯s gone right back to staring at the egg. Whatever he took my silence as, I highly doubt he came to the right answer.

    But¡­ it does make me wonder if the other humans are always considered ¡®true classes¡¯ from the second they get them. I¡¯ll have to ask the next person I meet that I semi-trust to get a straight answer.

    While Clutter messes around with the egg, I pull out my Class Card and swipe through it. There¡¯s nothing new to see, and a double check that I didn¡¯t get any Worth from the mass at the graveyard proves true. Something¡¯s bothering me about this entire thing, but I can¡¯t quite put my finger on it. Sure, we¡¯re struggling to find the quest, but how did the other horizonguard find it? Is there something obvious-ish that we¡¯re overlooking? Or are we knocking on the door to some high-level quest without knowing it?

    ¡°Shit, what happens if I don¡¯t have the clearance to do the quest?¡± I mutter to myself as I send my Class Card away. ¡°Will it still let me in but won¡¯t give me the rewards, or am I just completely screwed?¡±

    ¡°That depends how much over your clearance it is.¡± Clutter responds. ¡°If you get it and it actually shows you numbers instead of question marks or a bunch of gibberish, then you¡¯re okay. Otherwise it¡¯s just like when your mind stat won¡¯t let you hear something. But for the quest acceptance screen.¡±

    Hrm. That¡¯s about what I expected, but actually hearing it isn¡¯t doing anything to lift my spirits. I drum my fingers against my thigh and glance around, idly looking for anything that might be even close to another clue, but nothing jumps out at me. Pearl doesn¡¯t seem bothered by the weirdness in here, and she hasn¡¯t chimed in about finding anything, so¡­ I guess it¡¯s just me.

    As I¡¯m about to turn around and go back to helping Clutter, a stalk rustles in the distance. I frown and hold up a hand to block the sun¨Cdid the farmers finally decide to come down here? That¡¯s going to be a major annoyance if they insist on making Clutter explain himself, especially since he¡¯ll give in to them without a second thought.

    ¡°Clutter, don¡¯t leave the monster until I either send you a message or I come to get you.¡± I drop a relocation coin at my feet, then push a shield into a coin and step out of the monster. ¡°And don¡¯t bother with any noises you hear¨CI¡¯ll deal with this.¡±

    He nods seriously and digs his feet into the monster. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it here for as long as I can. Which should be a long time. What are you doing, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Just welcoming some uninvited guests.¡± I smile and drop the coin into the opening, sealing Clutter in with the egg and everything else. ¡°Good luck finding whatever¡¯s in there.¡±

    ¡°Thank you! Good luck fighting those people!¡± Clutter says happily, then turns back to his work.

    Well, I guess I wasn¡¯t really being that secretive. I smile to myself and prepare a few more shields, a single purification, and two projectiles; that should be more than enough to make some farmers ignore us for a few minutes. Not that I even want to hurt them in the first place, really, so I¡¯ll have to make it up to them when we¡¯re done and I have enough Worth to do shit with.

    ¡°Alright, all of you, come on out. We can discuss this like adults.¡± I spread my empty hands in a show of good faith while smiling wide with intimidation. ¡°If you¡¯re willing to leave us alone for an hour or two, we¡¯ll just leave on our own. No need to get physical.¡±

    The rustling slows, but doesn¡¯t stop. I let my smile die and close my hands, breathe deep, and focus on my awareness to feel the shapes walking through the stalks.

    ¡°So you don¡¯t want to talk, huh? That¡¯s a real shame; I¡¯m not that great at holding back. Don¡¯t blame me if you walk away with some broken bones and salted wounds.¡±

    Something sharp and quick zips into my awareness. I snap my foot back to dodge it, and it sinks deep into the dirt from the force it was thrown with. Confusion washes over me as I stare down at the thing, not quite understanding how it can be there. Because it looks almost exactly like a swiss army knife, complete with the red shell and an empty hole where a pair of tweezers would go.

    ¡°The¡­ what¡­ why the hell would you throw a pocket knife?¡± I ask the empty air in utter disbelief. ¡°Surely there¡¯s a thousand better things you could¡¯ve thrown. Like, maybe an actual throwing knife? Or even a fist-sized rock?¡±

    Silence. My sneer deepens; there¡¯s no way these are the farmers. And if the pocket knife is any indication, I¡¯m dealing with my own kind. Maybe opportunistic scavengers. Or more people hired by the same client that tried to kill me and Clutter in the first place. But I know better than that. With what just happened a few nights ago, there¡¯s only two¨Cmaybe three¨Coptions for who these people are.

    HuSt. The Preservation. Or Gisela¡¯s little group. I grit my teeth and focus on my awareness, trying to understand why I couldn¡¯t tell they were humans from the first glance. Two of them break off from the third and circle around me, closing off my potential escape routes. The final one finally walks out from inside of the stalks, twirling a pocket knife on a keyring around their finger as casually as I¡¯d expect to see back on Earth.

    I can¡¯t make out their face. Or their body type. Or even their species. All I can truly see is the shard of a white mask on their forehead, held in place with a simple circlet. Before I can say anything the other two emerge from the stalks, revealing chunks of masks of their own¨Cone an eyepatch, and the other a triangle over their nose.

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± I growl as I latch onto a shield with my awareness. ¡°Who sent you?¡±

    The one in front of me shakes their head. ¡°Not important. Now are you going to die easily, or are we going to have to get our hands dirty?¡±

 Chapter 144: Anonymous Assailants

    Wow. Just wow. That¡¯s a level of cocky I feel like I haven¡¯t seen in a long time¨Cif at all. I¡¯d like to think this means they aren¡¯t from the Preservation, since they should have a healthy fear of me, but they¡¯re complete mysteries right now. Can¡¯t risk them being extremely powerful compared to everyone else I¡¯ve fought.

    ¡°I¡¯d prefer not to die at all, thank you very much.¡± I flip a projectile into my hand, then aim it directly at the masked attacker. ¡°Mind talking while we fight so I don¡¯t have to worry about keeping you conscious?¡±

    The attacker snorts in amusement. ¡°Looks like we got a live one this time, boys. Show her the kind of hospitality she should¡¯ve gotten the moment she stepped foot into the city.¡±

    With a snap of their fingers, the first attacker creates a puff of magic that slips down into their pocket knife like a lance of wind. It saturates the red-plated thing in a single heartbeat with a sensation akin to hearing a sharp knife slice through empty air, and my awareness instantly warns me not to let that thing touch me.

    Not a moment passes before I feel something behind me, and I flare two shields just to be sure. Emerald green energy washes over me, filled with a scent like wet moss and a tingling numbness that reminds me of the aftershocks of banging my elbow on a sharp doorframe. I grimace and extend the second shield into the dirt just a little to make sure the stuff can¡¯t seep through, then spin on my heel to get a good look at the one who did it.

    A strange, mossy lantern dangles from nose-mask¡¯s left hand. Branches, brambles, and roots crackle and shimmer like flames, holding up an ovaline rock that¡¯s absolutely coated in moss that radiates magic that feels exactly like the attack. Unless they¡¯re masters of misdirection, that¡¯s the one. Probably a plant-related class like¡­ a druid, or a botanist, or whatever the system decided to name that classification of class.

    Pearl sniffs the air then wrinkles her nose. ¡°It¡¯s a mild numbing agent, hallucinogen, and a¡­ whatever they call those things that make you have an allergic reaction, but that you don¡¯t have to be allergic to. Irritant? I think that¡¯s right. It¡¯s a really strong irritant.¡±

    I raise my hands into a combat-ready pose, even though I really don¡¯t need to. ¡°Should purification work on it?¡±

    ¡°Mm¡­¡± Pearl hums in thought, then shakes her head. ¡°We don¡¯t know how strong they are, and that¡¯s probably part of their strategy. Don¡¯t count on purification working.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha.¡±

    With a flick of my fingers, I launch a concentrated projectile straight at the lantern. Nose-mask grunts and jumps out of the way as fast as they can, but my projectile still nicks the lantern¡¯s base and shears a divot into the material. Circlet waves a hand behind me, then makes a few gestures that have no meaning to me.

    Both nose-mask and eyepatch-mask nod ever so slightly and back up at the same time. Neither of them make any motions that would signal they¡¯re going to go for Clutter instead, but I wouldn¡¯t put it past someone who comes at me with such an obvious desire to kill. Nose-mask recovers quickly, and so does his lantern¨Cdirt rises from the ground to fill in the destroyed piece, and it starts to glow bright with magic once more.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you this¨Cyou¡¯re way stronger than your clearance suggests.¡± Forehead-mask says casually and flips open one of the pocket-knife¡¯s attachments; a tiny flathead screwdriver. For some reason that action alone flares his magic to high heaven. ¡°Good thing me and the boys did some research, or else we¡¯d be caught with our pants around our ankles just like Rouge and her guards were. Mind me asking what you did to piss off a wealthy patron so much they¡¯re paying top dollar for your head?¡±

    I blink in surprise. A conversation wasn¡¯t where I was expecting this to go. ¡°For this particular instance, no. I have absolutely no goddamn idea.¡±

    ¡°Hm. That¡¯s too bad¨Cthe requisition didn¡¯t say so either. Just ¡®kill this woman and her Paindne companion¡¯. Welp, looks like that¡¯s all the time for chatter we¡¯ve got, so how about we get this dance underway?¡± He points the screwdriver at me and grins. ¡°I¡¯ve been wanting to try this out on something strong enough to hold on for more than a few seconds.¡±

    Magic wells up in his hand, coating it like a thick glove. Strands of it scurry up his arm and snake under his shirt, then cement themselves in his pectoral and back muscles for¡­ reinforcement, I guess? My awareness screams at me to get out of the way, but a glance over my shoulder at the other two¨Cwho haven¡¯t attacked since the initial green wave¨Cmakes me hesitate.

    Their postures are way too casual. Their smiles are as confident as anything. It isn¡¯t caution or fear that¡¯s stopping them¨Cit¡¯s that they believe forehead-mask can easily take me one-on-one. Even after their self-proclaimed ¡®research¡¯ into my abilities. Honestly, I have to admit¡­ I¡¯m a little curious myself. How new is their info? Am I really that much stronger than I was before I became Fleur¡¯s god?

    Now¡¯s the perfect time to test it all out. Besies, Pearl would¡¯ve already yelled at me if we were in mortal danger.

    I extend a hand and flick my fingers as a show of challenge. ¡°Bring it.¡±

    Forehead-mask¡¯s smile blossoms with mirth. ¡°That¡¯s my kind of fighter! Let¡¯s go this, girl!¡±

    With a jab of their arm, unimaginable weight shoves against my shield. My eye twitches in surprise at the sudden attack¨Cthis feeling reminds me of the corpsedragger¡¯s teleporting rushes from months ago. But if I¡¯m actually stronger now, this attack has to be stronger to give me the same sensation. And considering they¡¯re using the screwdriver attachment, I¡¯m not sure this is the end.

    ¡°Nice! Nice! NICE!¡± Forehead-mask laughs gleefully. ¡°Those are some top-shelf shields you¡¯ve got there! For blocking this alone, I¡¯d give you a twenty eight¨Cmaybe even a thirty. But let¡¯s see how you deal with a TWIST!¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    As they speak, they wrench their hand all the way around. Ligaments stretch, bone creaks, and skin whirls around the unnatural motion. And the force pushing against my shield twists all the same. It scrapes, shears, and tries with all its might to get the tiniest foothold in the barrier so it can be wrenched open with the motion.

    I clench my teeth and smooth the shield out as smooth as it can go. Forehead mask never stops laughing as their hand twists around and around and around, winding up the skin on their forearm to a frankly disgusting pile of wrinkles and abrasions. But their screw attack never once finds purchase, and their twist slowly comes to an end.

    Slowly, I loosen the muscles in my jaw. ¡°Couldn¡¯t break it. What¡¯s next?¡±

    They draw their hand back. ¡°A follow-up.¡±

    Noises like the roar of a biological lawnmower burst to life as the magic protecting forehead-mask¡¯s arm comes undone all at once. It snaps back like a rubber band, and as it hits the twisted skin, their hand begins to spin in the opposite direction. The head of the screwdriver spins so fast all I can see is a blur, and I swallow hard as I summon two more coins to fill with shields.

    If I can withstand this, maybe these guys will just leave. They¡¯re already watching their boss fight without intruding, so it¡¯s not like they¡¯re taking this unbelievably seriously. Or maybe this is completely serious, and if this attack doesn¡¯t break my shield, then they know they can¡¯t get me. I take a deep breath, flip a new shield into my palm, and visualize a very small but insanely dense barrier.

    It¡¯ll hold. It¡¯ll have to.

    The emanation of magic screams ahead with forehead-mask¡¯s whirling hand. I toss out my shield, as dense as I can make a foot-by-foot shield, and it flickers to life just in front of my heavily damaged previous one. Sound and magic erupt at the clash of spells, a shearing roar that digs into my ears as sparks fly from my shield and the not-quite-invisible attack.

    Forehead-mask¡¯s manic grin widens. Their laughter echoes over the roar of the clash, long and uneven and punctuated by gasping breaths that sound dangerously close to ecstasy. I frown as my awareness truly takes hold of my shield, and from the looks of it, the attack¡¯s doing¡­ next to nothing. A few punches would be more damaging.

    Something¡¯s¡­ off. I narrow my eyes at forehead-mask and flex my fingers as I try to feel around me with my awareness. Nose-mask and eyepatch-mask are still there. All the sparks from the spell are just that¨Csparks, and they¡¯re just disappearing into the wind. There¡¯s literally nothing I can feel that¡¯s off.

    ¡°The hell is going on?¡± I murmur and gently reach up to tap Pearl¡¯s shell to let her know the question is directed at her. ¡°How did their first attack do more damage than this one?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ wish I knew the answer myself.¡± She says slowly. ¡°Something¡¯s definitely off. But nobody¡¯s even gone close to Clutter, so they¡¯re not after him. Do you think they¡¯re just using him as a distraction?¡±

    That¡¯s about what I was thinking, but if they¡¯re using forehead-mask as a distraction, then what the hell are they a distraction from? Not Clutter, not to cast a spell¡­ so what¡¯s left? Wasting time for reinforcements? I¡¯d be more willing to believe that if forehead-mask hadn¡¯t gone all out from the start, and then pulled back significantly. Do they want me to realize they¡¯re holding back? What do they get from that?

    With a frown and a shake of my head, I come to terms with the fact that I won¡¯t know the truth. So I just have to act. I summon two more shields, drop a purification at my feet, and step out from behind the shield that¡¯s being assaulted by forehead-mask¡¯s attack.

    They tilt their head to the side when they see me stepping aside, and in an instant, they stop laughing. But their face doesn¡¯t shift to disbelief of confusion or even frustration; it¡¯s pure nothing. Neutral, almost like we just started a brand new conversation. The tonal whiplash almost sends me reeling.

    ¡°Should¡¯ve just stayed there.¡± They say with barely any emotion at all. ¡°We haven¡¯t wasted enough time yet. Can¡¯t you realize that?¡±

    I¡­ just¡­ what?

    ¡°What the hell are you talking about? Is there some grand thing going on here that everyone but me is in on?¡± I spread my arms and motion at forehead-mask while I look back at the other two. ¡°Because you¡¯re doing a really shitty job of killing me right now, and the fact I even have to say that is goddamn confusing.¡±

    Eyepatch-mask shrugs. ¡°Part of the job. Intimidation, information gathering, whatever else. Assassination doesn¡¯t pay great, you know.¡±

    ¡°...It doesn¡¯t?¡±

    A laugh rips from forehead-mask¡¯s throat. ¡°Of course it doesn¡¯t! There¡¯s an entire partial class built around it, so you¡¯ve got dozens of people frothing at the mouth for a chance to wet their blades. Scouts like your friend in the monster are way more valuable, since the system doesn¡¯t give out permission for those skills all willy-nilly.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡± Nose-mask leans on their lantern and stares at me. ¡°See, it¡¯s much more profitable to get some info for the actual assassins to do their jobs later. And now we¡¯ve got a pretty comprehensive profile built up on a prime suspect-you. Come next week, you¡¯re gonna have a hard time walking around without someone lobbing a spell at you. No hard feelings?¡±

    ¡°This¡­ it was¡­ I¡­¡± I turn on my heel to stare at forehead-mask. ¡°Who the hell do you work for, then?¡±

    They shrug. ¡°Whoever¡¯s paying. Well, it¡¯s actually a little more complicated than that, but you don¡¯t want to get into that conversation with just a few hours left before your quest¡¯s deadline. Since we¡¯re about to make a lot of Worth off of you, I¡¯ll give you a little piece of advice before we leave; whatever you¡¯re using to sense people can be tricked. Not easily, sure, but anyone who can actually trick it are the ones you have to look out for.¡±

    With a flick of their knife, forehead-mask closes the screwdriver attachment and swaps it for the actual knife. They run their thumb down the length, a thin line of blood soaking the edge, and they gently flick it in the direction of my stronger shield.

    It splits in two. Pearl gasps loud enough that it almost matches my own, and I feel my awareness lose connection to the thing even though it¡¯s still there. I feel a trio of magical flares, but with the new knowledge that whoever those three were can hide from me, it feels like they¡¯re pitying me. A quick glance around confirms that they just left.

    I curl my hands into fists. If anyone else was here to see me, they wouldn¡¯t even know that I was just dealt my first real loss by another class-bearer. The way they said I had strong shields, all that posturing¡­ it was just for show. Hell, that green stuff was probably that weak on purpose.

    ¡°Did we get anything from that?¡± I ask Pearl, my voice taut with every word.

    She¡¯s silent for a good long while before she eventually answers. ¡°We learned that my awareness was weakened much more than I thought it was. That¡¯s really dangerous, Shelby, because I don¡¯t even know what we¡¯ve missed so far.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me.¡± I grumble and stick my hands into my pockets. ¡°Now every asshole¡¯s going to know about me¨Cand if they¡¯ve actually been following me from the shadows, they might even know about you.¡±

 Chapter 145: Something Close Enough To Hatching

    Pearl reels back and gasps in shock. It¡¯s a stronger reaction than what I thought, what with how calm she¡¯s been through all this.

    ¡°I¡¯m not ready to go public.¡± She whispers. ¡°It¡¯ll put all of us in danger. Really, really bad danger. Someone will want me for a¡­ collection, or some twisted research, or¡­ or¡­ bad things! A ton of really bad things!¡±

    I can¡¯t argue. All I can do is hope that they don¡¯t think I¡¯ve been talking to an actual Shellraiser this entire time, but that¡­ well¡­ I don¡¯t know how else they could take it. But I know my first instinct wouldn¡¯t be to assume someone was talking to an extinct species. Maybe theirs won¡¯t be either, and they¡¯ll manage to think their way away from the truth.

    And then¡­ there¡¯s the nuclear option. I flip Illumisia¡¯s relocation coin out of my bracer and grip it hard in my palm. She¡¯d be able to deal with it in a few seconds. There¡¯s no real reason not to, honestly. Yeah. None at all.

    Still, I don¡¯t activate the spell. Not for any good reason, either¨Ceverything is telling me that this is the right way to go. But something¡¯s stopping me from doing it. If I wasn¡¯t so used to having an awareness, I wouldn¡¯t even notice the strangeness buzzing in the corner of my mind. It feels like a coin spinning in the air, over and over and over and over¡­ well, infinitely.

    It¡¯s the exact same sensation as using Twist Fate, but in real-time. Almost like my skill isn¡¯t letting me make this decision. But the only reason I could think for that is¡­ that siccing Illumisia on those masked assholes would lead to us not getting the quest.

    The sensation dies. My back straightens on reflex, and I feel my jaw clenched just a little too tight for comfort. I try to summon Illumisia again, because Pearl¡¯s safety is more important than a damn quest, but¡­ it still doesn¡¯t work. My own skill is railroading me into a specific decision. That¡¯s goddamn terrifying.

    ¡°We¡¯ll do something about it.¡± I clutch the coin in my hand and try one last time to summon Illumisia. Nothing happens. ¡°Just not the easiest option for some damn reason.¡±

    Pearl tilts her head to the side in confusion while in the middle of a mild panic. She doesn¡¯t say anything, though, just glances down at the coin in my hand and laces her fingers together. I know by the look on her face that she wants to ask a question, but from how it twists and distorts while I walk back to the monster, something else stops her.

    Just before I retract the barrier, she frowns and finally opens her mouth. ¡°I can¡¯t ask the question I want to ask. You should know what question that is. Why can¡¯t I ask it?¡±

    I grimace and dispel the shield with a thought. ¡°Twist Fate doesn¡¯t want that happening for some reason. And, apparently, you just asking that question would screw with the outcome I asked it to lead us down.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Your skill¡¯s stronger than you are now.¡±

    Pearl¡¯s dropped bombshell slams down on me just before I set foot into the monster. ¡°That¡¯s a thing?¡±

    She nods. ¡°We had it way back when, too, but with regular magic. If someone cast something like¡­ um¡­ let¡¯s say a navigation spell, but they were weaker than the spell. Instead of showing them the way, it would force them onto a path and keep them on it. That¡¯s probably exactly what¡¯s happening to you right now.¡±

    A grimace pulls on my lips. ¡°So I¡¯m stuck on this path until we actually investigate all these things. Or¡­ maybe when I actually find the quest. Do I just need more Soul so it won¡¯t do this?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that skill scale with Fate, not Soul?¡±

    ¡°Same difference. Do I need more Fate so I control the skill, not the other way around? Shit¡­ have I been in control of any of my actions since I flipped those coins? Are any of these thoughts implanted by the skill?¡±

    Pearl raises an eyebrow. ¡°You noticed the skill¡¯s effect the moment you tried to do anything it didn¡¯t want. I only noticed them right now, too. So I think at least one of us would¡¯ve noticed before if the skill was actually controlling you, not just limiting your options.¡±

    Yeah. Definitely. That¡¯s a perfectly reasonable explanation that I¡¯m going to cling to out of a mixture of fear, anger, and a pinch of denial. Pearl¡¯s probably right. And if she isn¡¯t¡­ then I need to find this quest as soon as possible and not use Twist Fate until I have a bunch more stat points under my belt.

    To do that, I need Clutter. So I push all those negative feelings and thoughts off to the side, press my hand against the side of the monster, and duck into it. Clutter whips around as soon as my foot squelches against a¡­ squelchier inside than I remember, and he sighs with such relief that I almost feel a little bad for taking so long.

    Except for the fact that he could¡¯ve turned around at any time and seen that I was fine and well.

    ¡°Shelby! Thank goodness you¡¯re okay. What happened?¡± He asks without moving from where he sits. ¡°I felt some weird things out there; did the farmers actually have a Harvester and a Biomancer with them? Because it didn¡¯t feel like they had any full-classes with them when they were yelling at me.¡±

    I stop and blink in surprise. ¡°You could tell what classes they had? From in here?¡±

    Clutter puffs out his chest with pride. ¡°It¡¯s one of the skills I worked the hardest for: Spell Catalogue. When someone uses a spell, I instantly know what Classes can use the spell, and I can use a lot of mana to get more info. For those spells, they could only be used by a Biomancer and a Harvester.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Biomancer and Harvester.¡± I repeat, images of the mossy blast and the sick, twisting hand flashing in my mind. ¡°Sounds about right to me. They disappeared right after they attacked me. Did that trigger your skill?¡±

    He vigorously shakes his head. ¡°Nope. And it triggers for every spell, no matter how strong it is¨Cso it wasn¡¯t a spell. Unless they have a spell that is invisible to skill, or a spell that makes spells invisible to skills¡­¡± He trails off with a frown. ¡°But if they have that, why wouldn¡¯t they hide all their spells? Running away and leaving partial information behind is just weird.¡±

    I suck air in through my teeth. ¡°Yeah, about that¡­ they didn¡¯t run away. I got my ass handed to me, but in a less ¡®beat me ¡®till I¡¯m bloody¡¯ kind of way.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Clutter narrows his eyes at me suspiciously. ¡°You¡¯re one of the strongest people I¡¯ve met. How could they beat you so easily?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a question we need to find the answer to very soon, my friend.¡± I pat him on the shoulder with a grim chuckle, then gesture down at the egg. ¡°Is it just me, or is that thing twice as big compared to when I left?¡±

    The egg¨Cmore plasticy than ever¨Cpulses twice. For a second, I think that it just answered me, but then it does the exact same thump-thump pulse again. Clutter and I stare at it for a dozen seconds, and I swear I can see it getting a little bigger by the second.

    ¡°I think it is.¡± He eventually confirms, but not with confidence. ¡°There¡¯s definitely something getting bigger in there, and I think it¡¯s whatever we¡¯re looking for. Can you use your¡­ thing¡­ to check and see if it¡¯s ready yet?¡±

    Before I can say anything, Pearl shakes her head. ¡°It isn¡¯t, but it¡¯s much more solid than before. If it keeps growing like this, it¡¯ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.¡±

    I nod a little and reiterate the information to Clutter. He scratches his chin in thought, all the while making a strange noise deep in his throat that sounds like a combination of a whine and a gurgle.

    ¡°Fifteen minutes. Compare that to how big it was when it started, and with how weird this monster is¡­¡± He looks over his shoulder at the opening, then nods to himself. ¡°I think someone made this thing. Or¡­ well¡­ how do I put this¡­ it tried to make this thing.¡±

    I snort in amusement. ¡°What part of this wonderful creature doesn¡¯t look natural to you?¡±

    ¡°All of it.¡± He says seriously. ¡°The bones, the body, the organs¡­ it¡¯s like someone made a list of the vital parts for this thing, then mashed them all together without any of the connective stuff. I bet it''s going to be a part of the quest, and this is just a little teaser that got sent out, but somehow it ended up out of phase with the rest of the world.¡±

    ¡°So, what, the quest¡¯s going to lead us to some freak¡¯s lab where they¡¯re trying to make plastic replicas of sky-stomping monsters? I¡­ yeah, I guess that kind of makes sense. Especially when you factor in the graveyard¨Cwas that just another failed attempt at making something?¡±

    Clutter nods as he winces. ¡°I think so. But knowing that doesn¡¯t help us at all if we can¡¯t trace the origins of the plastic to anything¨Cand it makes it really confusing that I found most of the plastic up until now in random rocks. Is it¡­ two kinds of the stuff? Or is the rock plastic the same as this¨C¡±

    He gently pats the egg for emphasis.

    ¡°¨Cjust not given anything to imitate?¡±

    I don¡¯t have an answer for him. He still looks at me for input, as if I¡¯ll somehow know more on the subject that he¡¯s been researching for months. All I can offer him is a sympathetic shrug and a half-cocked apologetic smile.

    ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t have a clue.¡±

    For some reason, that seems to disappoint him. He sighs and leans close to the egg, wraps his arms around it, and gently touches the side of his face to it. I resist the urge to comment on the strange action, which he keeps doing for far too long. Instead, I just watch him pat and prod at the thing like a doctor would with a strangely still patient.

    The egg keeps growing. At first it¡¯s barely noticeable, but as the minutes pass, Clutter¡¯s arms no longer wrap around the entire thing. Once the ten minute mark hits he¡¯s only hugging half of the egg, but he holds strong and keeps his face plastered against it. And as we creep closer and closer to the fifteen minute mark, the egg gets large enough that we have to scooch back multiple steps worth of space. If this keeps going on, the egg will definitely grow big enough to overtake the main body.

    ¡°It¡¯s getting really close.¡± Pearl warns. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you¡¯re supposed to get the thing, but it¡¯s almost here.¡±

    I lean in and tap Clutter on the shoulder. ¡°Time¡¯s almost up. Feel anything changing through face-to-egg contact?¡±

    He turns his eyes to me, but nothing else. ¡°A lot. But nothing really helpful. I don¡¯t think anything else has just appeared inside of the egg, so¡­ maybe it¡¯s a timing thing? Or an observation thing?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re leaning towards. Now get back.¡± I gently pull him away from the egg. He acquiesces without hesitation. ¡°We don¡¯t know how this is going to go, so be ready to run.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m always ready to run.¡± He says innocently. It isn¡¯t the reassurance he thinks it is.

    I pull out two projectiles and a shield as I focus on the egg. Pearl hums quietly as she focuses everything on the egg, and I trust her to give me the exact right timing for this. Images of two weak projectiles that are extremely long-lasting and small, with just enough power to destroy the plastic egg, flow from my mind down into the coins.

    Pearl¡¯s head snaps abruptly to attention. ¡°It¡¯s in the exact center of the egg right¡­ Now!¡±

    At her signal, I let the projectiles fly. They shear through the plastic with ease, scouring away the eggshell and chunks of whatever it was protecting. Clutter whimpers and looks away from the admittedly grisly display, but I keep my eyes locked on the flying plastic for a glimpse at whatever¡¯s in the center. If it¡¯s a phase-thing, it¡¯s the only way we¡¯ll actually get our hands on it.

    Slowly but surely and little by little, something starts to show itself. It starts off looking like a bunch of random stone shards, each exposed by my projectiles at different times. But as more gets revealed¡­ it¡¯s definitely a bunch of stone shards. Perfect, uniform, and sharpened into wicked points. I lean in between my projectiles and pull one out, then zip back as more of the egg breaks down before my eyes.

    I inspect the simple, two-inch long spear of stone with a discerning eye. It feels like nothing to my awareness, but that¡¯s to be expected considering where I¡¯m standing. Strange thing is, the stone¡¯s a perfect match for the stuff I got from the graveyard. Like, a one-to-one exact material replica. But how the hell did that happen?

    ¡°Hey, look!¡± Clutter lunges into the egg, ignoring my projectiles, and plucks something from the exact center of the egg. He rubs some plastic off of it, his earlier disgust seemingly forgotten, and holds it up to the light. ¡°It says ¡®Denmary Well¡¯.¡±

 Chapter 146: Two Down

    Denmary well. That¡¯s just a jumble of the words on the wreath we got at the graveyard. I patiently wait for Clutter to finish screwing around with the stone¡­ thing¡­ and when he takes a little too long, I lean into what was previously the egg and start gathering stone spears. There¡¯s dozens of the little things, all exactly uniform, and none of them give off even the smallest twinge of magic.

    ¡°Who put all the magical toothpicks in here?¡± I mutter to myself as I summon a shield to hold the things. ¡°And what about the egg? Did we somehow fulfill the phase requirements just by being here, or does the stone¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ keep reappearing every time the monster regenerates?¡±

    Clutter looks up from the stone with wide eyes. ¡°This thing regenerates?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± I gesture at the plastic residue on the ground. ¡°It did. Not sure if we screwed that up, or if it¡¯s just going to make another egg in a few minutes.¡±

    ¡°Wow. Did you actually see it¡­ is die the right word?¡± Clutter taps his chin with a finger in thought. ¡°Actually, can this plastic stuff even die? Is it alive in the first place?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll find out during the quest.¡±

    He nods in acceptance. ¡°That makes sense to me. Well, it shows a few signs of life, but it definitely doesn¡¯t work like any life I¡¯ve ever seen before. Do you want to see the stone now?¡±

    ¡°Yes, please.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± He rubs the stone with his sleeve one more time, then extends it to me. ¡°Here you go! It¡¯s a lot less interesting than I made it seem.¡±

    I grab the stone with one hand, and sure enough, I don¡¯t feel any magic from it at all. But aside from magic¡­ it feels like¡­ the sphere and wreath. Not magical, but something close to it. Hell, maybe it¡¯s shrouded, just like those attackers were. It¡¯d explain a few things, that¡¯s for sure. But that¡¯s enough stalling¨Ctime to actually look at this thing.

    In my hands I hold a perfectly square slab of simple stone, exactly like the stuff from the graveyard. Most of it is smooth, but not so smooth that it feels like someone smoothed it out, but more like a rock that¡¯s been at the bottom of a river for a long time. Aside from a few markings around the edge, which almost look like they could fit the stone spears, there¡¯s only one feature that draws my attention.

    The words ¡®Denmary Well¡¯, written exactly like that, etched into the stone square at a seemingly random place. It¡¯s not at the top, or in the middle¨Cjust haphazardly written there in slightly curved lettering about two-thirds of the way between the center and the edge. I lightly run my fingers over it, hoping that it¡¯ll trigger some kind of reaction, but all it does is send a shiver of slight discomfort down my spine.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ nothing.¡± I frown and turn it over, but the underside is completely blank. ¡°There¡¯s absolutely nothing here. I guess that means we have to put all the spears into the indents first.¡±

    Clutter tilts his head. ¡°Spears?¡±

    I sigh and pull one out of its protective shield. ¡°You really weren¡¯t paying attention to anything but the big stone, were you? These things were all around it in the egg, and they look like they can go¨C¡±

    ¡°Right in the indents!¡± He interrupts by snatching the spear from my fingers. ¡°I wonder if it¡¯s going to point us somewhere just like the wreath is. Ooh, maybe we have to combine the two to find where we actually need to go!¡±

    I hold the stone out for Clutter, and he excitedly places the spear in an indent. It fits perfectly, just like a puzzle piece, but absolutely nothing happens. Undeterred, Clutter reaches for my shield and pulls out a handful of the spears, then yelps in pain as they go flying.

    ¡°Yes. They¡¯re sharp.¡± I chuckle and bend down to gather the tossed spears.

    He whines as he glares at his hand, then tentatively gives his bloody palm a lick. ¡°Maybe I got a little too excited. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°No worries, it¡¯s less than a minute of delay. See?¡± I rise to my knees and present the handful of spears he dropped. ¡°Already done. You still want to do the honours?¡±

    Sheepishly, he nods and carefully opens his non-bloody hand for me to place the spears in. Once he has the pieces, he pinches a single one between his claws like a pair of tweezers and gingerly moves it over one of the indents. With the precision of someone who just hurt themselves and doesn¡¯t want to look like more of an idiot he lets go, tamps the spear into the indent, and nods in satisfaction at his work.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    All in all, it takes him nearly twenty seconds per spear. Now I consider myself to have pretty average patience, but there are, like, sixty of these suckers. I¡¯m not waiting an hour for Clutter to play reverse operation because he cut himself a little bit. He grumbles a little when I start placing spears of my own, but less than two minutes later, we¡¯ve completed it.

    I pull one spear out, just to make sure they didn¡¯t snap in, and it comes out easily. ¡°Looks like this is all it does. Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    Clutter brushes off his pants with his good hand and summons a small health potion in his other. ¡°Alright. I guess that means we¡¯re off to the jewelry store next, right?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s take a little break first. There¡¯s a new job I need Illumisia to do, as long as my damn skill will let me give the order.¡± I shake my head, then gesture for Clutter to leave the monster first. ¡°Fair warning, there¡¯s probably going to be more people coming after us soon. Not sure exactly how soon, but the people who attacked me were just gathering info to sell.¡±

    With a tentative look around with just his head sticking out of the monster, Clutter seems to decide it¡¯s safe. He steps out, turns to me, and waits for me to leave the monster before saying anything.

    ¡°Is it safe to look away from that thing? Or do we still need something from it?¡± He asks without looking away from the monster. ¡°Because the second I look away¡­¡±

    I glance upwards. Pearl focuses for a second, then shrugs. ¡°I can¡¯t feel anything else. If we¡¯re actually looking for these stone things, and not the plastic inside of the monster, then we definitely have everything we¡¯ve been looking for.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re good.¡±

    Pearl rolls her eyes at my very brief summation of her words, but a small smile betrays how she actually feels. Clutter barely glances over at me, and little by little, peels his gaze away from the monster. I turn away as well and start to walk towards Palastia, and soon enough, the monster simply disappears from my awareness. Seconds later Clutter jogs to my side and spares one last glance to where the monster had been.

    ¡°It feels like such a waste.¡± He says quietly. ¡°Whatever it was, it had to be based on something. Maybe even some extinct species that would¡¯ve shed a lot of light on pre-system history. At least Dizzy would¡¯ve said something like that.¡±

    I hold back an amused chuckle; he doesn¡¯t know how right he is. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll see in the actual quest. So, do you have any idea what this thing is?¡± I raise the stone square for emphasis. ¡°The words are a jumble of the same ones from the graveyard, so there¡¯s no way they aren¡¯t connected. But the thing from the graveyard didn¡¯t point us here at all, so wouldn¡¯t it be impossible to go from one location to another?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Honestly, we don¡¯t even know if these are how we find the quest or if they''re how we find the way to find the quest.¡± Clutter crosses his arms and hums in thought. ¡°Marywell Den sounds like a person¡¯s name, and Denmary Well sounds like a place. But I could be wrong¨Cthey could both be places, or they could both be people, or they could be the opposite of what I¡¯m thinking. But all we have are general directions and an inert stone slab¨Cit feels like we¡¯re supposed to go somewhere from here, not that we already solved a puzzle.¡±

    ¡°Then we just need to hurry.¡± I glance behind me, just to be sure we¡¯re not being followed, then hand Clutter a relocation coin. ¡°We¡¯ve already got an anchor this time, so I¡¯ll cover the travel expenses. Then we¡¯ll do lunch, see if Dizzy or Nibble have some free time, and after that we¡¯ll find the jewelry shop. That work for you?¡±

    Clutter nods and takes the coin. ¡°I am pretty hungry.¡±

    I smile as he hands the coin back. ¡°Lunch it is. See you in ten seconds.¡±

    ¡°See you!¡±

    His vigorous waving is the last thing I see of the fields before relocation flares, transporting me back into Palastia. All of the spears on the stone rattle as one for a split second, just like how the sphere and wreath freaked out in the starway, but they settle down instantly. Illumisia looks lazily up at me and cocks her head to the side at the sight of my two new stony acquisitions, a single question gleaming in her eyes.

    I hold up another coin before she can say anything. ¡°Let me get Clutter here first, then I¡¯ll fill you in while we get lunch.¡±

    She huffs out an annoyed breath, but motions for me to go on. ¡°I have already waited long enough; what is ten seconds more?¡±

    ¡°Unbearable, if your reaction is anything to go by.¡± I chuckle, then toss Clutter¡¯s coin on the ground and flare the relocation inside. He appears mid yelp of surprise, and takes a few disoriented seconds to right himself.

    The pedestrians around us all give him some kind of side-eye. More than a few seem concerned, but Illumisia rising to her full height¨Cfor the form she¡¯s in right now¨Cstops most of them in their tracks. Clutter sheepishly turns and apologizes to them anyway.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay. I¡¯m fine. Sorry for scaring you.¡± He rubs the back of his head and bows just a little at all the stares and murmurs. ¡°It was only teleportation, and it was completely consensual. Thank you all for being worried about me.¡±

    From the grumbles and glares that follow, a good chunk of them definitely weren¡¯t worried about him. He, however, doesn¡¯t seem to notice the annoyed undertone and turns back to me with his hand on his hips and renewed enthusiasm.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get that lunch!¡±

 Chapter 147: Between Leads

    While Illumisia slowly chews away at her plate of meat and vegetables near my feet, Clutter messily devours his own lunch while glancing nervously at me, and Pearl daintily nibbles away at whatever she has in her shell, I find myself waiting in silence for all of them to finish their meals. My empty plate, nearly clean from how little time the food sat on it, stares up at me in fear of just how ravenous I apparently was.

    My eyes meet Clutter¡¯s, and he obviously snaps his gaze down to focus on his food. I can¡¯t hold back a smile at his worry; it¡¯s almost like watching me eat is the most intimidating thing I¡¯ve done. Unfortunately for him, I¡¯m still hungry.

    I wave the same Ytocwa over who took our orders just a minute ago and put in a hefty request for some desert. They scribble it down with a frown of concern, almost like they don¡¯t think I can handle something that¡¯s supposed to serve three people, and slowly walk back towards the kitchen while throwing glances over their shoulder.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to change my mind.¡± I say without looking up at them, which startles them a little. ¡°If you knew the day I just had, you¡¯d be asking me why I¡¯m not ordering more.¡±

    ¡°Or why you are not drinking as of yet.¡± Illumisia says directly into my mind. ¡°Your encounters were quite amusing to hear second-hand; if only I could have witnessed them with my own eyes. Maybe then you would not have lost to the three idiots.¡±

    ¡®Three idiots¡¯. That¡¯s a strange way to talk about the masked attackers who apparently could''ve killed me at any time. Just the thought of them straightens my posture and razor-focuses my awareness¨Cbut it isn¡¯t enough. If more people like them show up, my awareness won¡¯t cut it. There has to be some way to make it better¡­ but since Pearl hasn¡¯t offered any solutions yet, she probably doesn''t know how.

    Maybe if we can get some of her memories the system is holding hostage back¡­ then that¡¯d be something. Unfortunately, I¡¯m pretty damn sure we have to progress her quest for that to happen. And I have absolutely no clue how to do that.

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame Shelby for that¨Cit¡¯s as much my fault as it is hers.¡± Pearl¡¯s voice wavers and hand trembles as she grips something tight. ¡°We couldn¡¯t even use relocation to get you there, because it would screw up the quest somehow.¡±

    Illumisia stops eating and looks up at me quizzically. I nod just a little, and she makes a noise of concern deep in her throat.

    ¡°That is very strange. I thought your skill merely pointed you in the best direction¨Cas if it magically drew a destination on a map. Though if it insists that my intervention would mean you failed in your quest for a quest, then it is for the best that it silenced you.¡± Illumisia leans down to lick up a chunk of fatty meat, chews once, then swallows. All without pausing her speech. ¡°Now we must work with the knowledge that my presence would somehow derail you¨Cand in answering that question, you may come closer to finding the quest itself.¡±

    She makes a good point¨Csomehow, calling Illumisia in would¡¯ve prevented us from getting the quest. But if I really think about it, that shouldn¡¯t be the case. All she¡¯d do is chase down the masked attackers, probably kill them, and prevent whoever they¡¯re selling the information to from getting said info. Stonestep Solutions is the most likely buyer, but they¡¯re already out to kill me¨Cdo they really need more info?

    Honestly, the answer¡¯s probably yes. I lean back in my chair and purse my lips as I stare up at the sky¨Csomething Illumisia would¡¯ve done would¡¯ve directly prevented us from getting the quest. Are the attackers important to that somehow? Does my info getting into someone else¡¯s hands somehow make us more likely to succeed in finding the quest? It sounds far-fetched, but it¡¯s the only possibility I can think of at the moment.

    Maybe something more will come to me later. But since I see our Ytocwa waiter struggling with a mountain of something that looks a hell of a lot like an amalgamation of a cookie, brownie, cake, and a quarter gallon of ice cream, dessert comes first.

    <hr>

    With a satisfied sigh, I ignore Clutter¡¯s stare of stunned disbelief and pay for our meal. He doesn¡¯t say anything as we get up to leave, walk through half the district, and eventually come to something that looks like a park with a bunch of fountains¨Cexcept it¡¯s all stone. Illumisia laughs to herself at the display of disbelief, and Pearl stifles a giggle when Clutter sits down at a bench and cradles his head in his hands.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, Clutter¨Cit was just desert.¡± I pat him on the shoulder and offer him a closed-mouth smile that he doesn¡¯t see. ¡°Just because I can out-eat you, doesn¡¯t mean you should be afraid of me.¡±

    ¡°Ninety-six seconds.¡± He mutters. ¡°It took you ninety-six seconds.¡±

    I shrug. ¡°What can I say¨Cthe place makes some damn good food. Let¡¯s put lunch behind us and keep looking, yeah? All we¡¯ve got left is the jewelry store, and then we can try to solve the mysteries of Marywell Den and Denmary Well. In¡­ a day and a half.¡±

    He groans and leans back, trailing his hands down his face. ¡°I know, I know. The jewelry store isn¡¯t far from here¨Cbut it¡¯s super exclusive. To get in you either need to be Clearance ten, prove you have ten thousand liquid Worth, or have some cloakstone.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Cloakstone?¡± I pull my mask out of my inventory and hold it up for him to see. ¡°You mean this stuff? I thought it was called an ¡®alternate self mask¡¯. At least that¡¯s what the system calls it.¡±

    Clutter blinks, then straightens so quickly I can hear his back crack. ¡°That¡¯s it! How the heck did you get so much of it? A full face mask isn¡¯t just expensive; you physically can¡¯t get them from¡­ like¡­ anywhere!¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t have a good answer for you. The store showed up when I got clearance five, and the shopkeep there gave me this.¡± I tap the mask against his forehead for emphasis. ¡°I¡¯ve seen people with full masks hanging around the resort back on Earth, so they can¡¯t be that rare.¡±

    ¡°Nononono!¡± He vigorously shakes his head. ¡°They are! They are so rare! If you get it carved by a professional¡­ wow. That¡¯d be so cool. Who are you when you put it on¨Cwait, no! Don¡¯t tell me! It¡¯ll just give me a really bad headache if I try to link you and the cloakstone you. I¡¯ll take us right there, show you the place, and then you go in with that mask on. It¡¯s foolproof!¡±

    ¡­Foolproof? Putting on a mask and walking into a store is a foolproof plan? I flip the thing around in my hand and study the backside for a few seconds before shrugging.

    ¡°Sure. Really should find out who I was supposed to get in contact with to carve this thing, though. Eh¨Cthat¡¯s an ¡®after the quest¡¯ problem.¡± I send the mask away as Clutter stands up, all his worry about my devastation of lunch seemingly forgotten. ¡°Ah, shit, I need to message Ursula and tell her I won¡¯t be here next week for the pills. That¡¯s just too gosh darn bad; now I won¡¯t be able to shred my muscles for a few weeks.¡±

    Illumisia raises her head with a toothy grin. ¡°Stay safe, Shelby. You as well, Pearlescence. I will be back before nightfall.¡±

    ¡°Back before¡­ wait, where are you going?!¡± I call out to Illumisia, but with a flash of red, she disappears. ¡°Damn it. Guess I¡¯m not getting out of this one.¡±

    Clutter points down the street Illumisia just disappeared down with a dumbfounded look. ¡°Did she even use mana for that?¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know. Probably?¡± I throw my hands in the air and start walking. ¡°She¡¯s definitely screwing with me because I told her about the masked attackers. When she gets back, I¡¯m definitely getting a bunch of hellish training I¡¯m not in the mood for.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just¡­ um¡­ say no?¡± Clutter suggests as he hurries to my side. ¡°I know she¡¯s pretty strong, and apparently she can communicate somehow, but you have rights you know.¡±

    I snort in amusement and shake my head. ¡°Clutter. Poor, innocent, unknowing Clutter. I don¡¯t get a say in this¨CI just have to trust that she has my best interests in mind.¡±

    ¡°She does.¡± Pearl assures me. ¡°It¡¯s just that her looking out for your best interests does not take into account your comfort, pleasure, desires¡­ anything, really. But she definitely won¡¯t interfere with the quest¨Cshe knows how important it is.¡±

    Yeah, I¡¯m not worried about that. The one thing Illumisia definitely wants me to be is stronger so I can work towards getting Pearl free. I rub my hand against my holster at the thought of the info the masked attackers have on me circulating through all the wrong channels¨Cbut if Illumisia is confident enough to leave us alone, that means we¡¯re not in immediate danger. Right?

    Clutter scampers ahead, speed-walking up the road while his head snaps from sign to sign. After a few blocks he slows to a stop, stares down a bisecting street, then turns and waves.

    ¡°We need to turn down this street!¡± He yells while pointing with his non-waving hand. ¡°The store¡¯s another few blocks and turns away, and it¡¯s in a pretty ritzy part of the district, so we need to be on good behavior!¡±

    I snort in amusement at his blatant contradiction as I close the distance. ¡°Good behavior, huh. What does that entail, pray tell?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy¨Cbeing quiet, making sure not to bump into or bother people, having on clean clothes¡­¡± He trails off as he looks down at himself. ¡°Ooh, that¡¯s going to be a problem. They might call the guards on us if we look like we just rolled around in a graveyard.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm, that¡¯s the only issue here.¡± I agree with a grin. ¡°Do you know if there are any bath houses around here?¡±

    He furrows his brow in thought, then nods. ¡°It¡¯s not that nice, but you can rent a shower for fifteen minutes for really cheap. Or¡­ wait, I have a much better idea! Follow me!¡±

    Without waiting to see if I¡¯m actually doing that, Clutter sprints off down the same street we were walking on¨Cnot the one that leads to the jewelry store. I blink in surprise, then share a look of mild concern with Pearl.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way he just got sidetracked, right?¡± I hesitantly ask.

    She doesn¡¯t answer right away. ¡°...Maybe?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, maybe.¡± I sigh and start running after him. ¡°Please let this be something actually useful, and not a foray off to another random bath house he likes better.¡±

    Following Clutter through the streets isn¡¯t all that difficult, but ignoring all the looks that get thrown our way gets harder and harder as the minutes whisk by. From the outside looking in, it definitely seems like I¡¯m tailing him through the city¨Cand that he¡¯s running full-blast so I don¡¯t catch him. I could catch up to him in a few seconds, but with how erratically he¡¯ll turn and full-blast down a random street or alleyway, I¡¯d end up wasting that time catching up to him again.

    So I just follow him. Through twists, turns, alleys, crowds, and a single line of idiots stretched across the street like ants. More than a few yells and screeches follow me as I run from that one, but honestly, I don¡¯t feel bad at all¨Canyone who lines up into the street deserves to get pushed aside.

    And after a good fifteen minutes, Clutter stops below a random four-storey building and turns to wait for me. I jog up to him slowly, watching as he pulls out his Class Card and starts tapping on it.

    ¡°So what¡¯re we waiting for?¡±

    He points up at one of the balconies overlooking the street. ¡°My girlfriend has a shower, and her clothes should fit you. It¡¯s perfect!¡±

 Chapter 148: Black and Golden

    Clutter has a girlfriend. Somehow, that thought hadn¡¯t crossed my mind even once ever since I first met him. But¡­ well¡­ I guess some women could be into his specific brand of¡­ ¡®charm¡¯. Honestly, the guy just feels too much like a golden retriever for me to imagine him being in any kind of a relationship¨Cso¡­ good for him, I guess?

    He frowns and his tail droops to the ground. ¡°You don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good plan?¡±

    I snort and shake my head. ¡°Somehow, Clutter, that wasn¡¯t even close to what I was thinking. Is your girlfriend okay with loaning her clothes to a random woman she hasn¡¯t even met?¡±

    ¡°Of course she is! She¡¯s a really nice person.¡± He says very, very confidently.

    ¡°Clutter¡­ you did ask her, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh, pfft, of course I did. That''d be a real jerk move if I just came here expecting her to agree to something. Here, let me show you¡­¡± He takes out his Class Card and turns it towards me. I catch the smallest glimpse of¡­ something, before he blushes furiously and pulls away. ¡°oh, oh, um, no, not that, that¡¯s not for you to see¡­ ha ha ha¡­ um¡­ can you please forget you ever saw that?¡±

    I blink heavily and try to put the words ¡®leash and collar¡¯ out of my mind. Like, forever. Unfortunately, my increased Mind stat doesn¡¯t really vibe with the whole ¡®choosing to forget¡¯ things, so I¡¯m stuck with that one text and the images it brings up for the rest of my damn life.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying, Clutter. I¡¯m really trying here.¡± I mutter to myself as Pearl cackles away in my brain. ¡°Let¡¯s just¡­ wait, aren¡¯t we forgetting something?¡±

    Clutter and Illumisia both tilt their heads at the exact same time. Then Illumisia growls and shifts to a chin-raise and questioning glance just to be different.

    ¡°What could we be forgetting?¡± She asks. ¡°Was there a part of your story that you forget to tell?¡±

    I cross my arms and furrow my brow. ¡°No, it¡¯s not that. There¡¯s¡­ oh, shit, didn¡¯t we have a hostage?!¡±

    Illumisia snorts and rolls her eyes. ¡°I am not incompetent. The hostage is with the old woman at this very moment, and she is working on extracting information from her in¡­ less lethal ways than I would have been able to.¡±

    ¡°And you were planning on telling me this when¡­?¡±

    ¡°When I remembered to. Or when we returned to the bath house for the evening.¡± Illumisia says without a shred of an apology. ¡°She will be alive when we return, I can assure you that. Though whether she will be willing to talk or not is another question altogether.¡±

    I tap my foot impatiently as Clutter stares at me. There¡¯s definitely something off about me right now¨Cthat should¡¯ve been my first thought when we got back and I didn¡¯t see a body on Illumisia¡¯s back. But it took me until now to even think about it. Is that still my skill railroading me down this path? Does that mean the wannabe assassin isn''t important to finding the quest at all?

    The sound of a sliding door opening and a shadow on a balcony steals my attention away. I crane my neck upwards to get a good look at the woman who just walked out, and¡­ uh¡­ let¡¯s just say she¡¯s not the kind of person I imagined Clutter going out with. Not just because she¡¯s got black eyeliner, black lipstick, a piercing in almost all of her facial features, and a scowl etched onto her face. All framed with greasy black hair that could just as easily be a style choice or the product of multiple weeks without washing it.

    It¡¯s also because she¡¯s human. She raises an arm to wave at Clutter, showing off a full sleeve of very witch-y tattoos and a pair of skull rings. He smiles brightly and waves right back, to which the corner of her mouth just barely twitches in response.

    ¡°Doors should be open. Clutter knows the way.¡± She says, then turns away and walks back into her apartment.

    Clutter hurries to the doors and throws both of them open. ¡°Come on! If we want to be in and out, we need to move quickly!¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ yeah.¡± I say slowly and follow Clutter into the stone building. ¡°Are you sure she has high-class clothes that¡¯ll fit me? Because her stuff doesn¡¯t really look like¡­ how should I put it¡­ my style.¡±

    ¡°Oh, pfft, don¡¯t worry about that. Dell has tons of clothes¨Cher Class needs her to!¡± Clutter says as he beelines for a stairwell and starts running up it. ¡°She¡¯s an enchanter, and she won¡¯t admit it to you, but she really loves making clothes. Apparently she apprenticed to a really strong woman a while ago whose name I don¡¯t remember at all, and that¡¯s what got her so into it!¡±

    His voice carries all the way through the stairwell, so even though I¡¯m a floor behind him, I can hear him perfectly. Illumisia grumbles to herself as her claws click against the stairs, her form just a little too big to comfortably fit in the stairwell. But instead of just shrinking a little, she soldiers on for absolutely no reason.

    After a few more stairs, I almost run into Clutter at the top of a flight. He smiles and waves me on, runs down the hallway, and stops right before a door that¡¯s already open a crack. With fidgety patience he stares at my normal-paced walk, and by the time I¡¯m at the door with him, it looks like he¡¯s going to burst out of his fur and bolt into the apartment.

    Before he can do that, Dell opens the door and locks eyes with me. Her gaze wanders all the way down to my feet, then up once more to my hips, where it lingers for a little longer than I¡¯m comfortable with. After that she brazenly stares at my chest for a good ten seconds, nods to herself, and steps aside to let us in.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Clutter zips in right away. I, however, stand right outside, making my discomfort as plainly known as possible. Dell just blinks at me, her face unchanging and showing absolutely no signs of recognizing what she did.

    ¡°Sorry. It¡¯s a force of habit.¡± She¡­ apologizes? ¡°It¡¯s just that whoever designed your clothes did a damn good job of fitting them to you. You show them off just as well as they show you off.¡±

    I scrunch my nose, still not quite sure what to say. ¡°You just stared at my chest for ten seconds. Not, like, reading something that¡¯s on them, either¨Cthis was hardcore staring.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, sorry. Clutter said you needed clothes, so I need to know your size. It just so happens that the chest and hips are a little more work for women¡¯s clothes. I¡­ ah, damn my face. Makes it really hard to come across as sincere when you¡¯ve got one expression and one tone of voice.¡±

    She reaches up and lightly smacks her cheeks. ¡°Just¡­ come in and take a shower. I seriously didn¡¯t mean to creep you out.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ think she means it.¡± Pearl says slowly. ¡°This is really weird. I thought all humans were as expressive as you, Noland, Ursula, March, Gil¡­ well, you get it.¡±

    I force a small smile, showing just a little teeth. ¡°Must be hard getting customers.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know half of it.¡± She chuckles mirthlessly. ¡°Here I thought Clutter was bringing me one, but apparently this is just a favor¨Cno magic involved. Well, at least my clothes will get to be worn by a badass like you.¡±

    ¡°Aw, flattery. I¡¯ll take it.¡± I smile wider, and Dell¡¯s eyes widen just a little at the show of teeth. ¡°Thanks for helping us. Just¡­ try not to stare at your customers¡¯ breasts next time.¡±

    She nods. ¡°Yes. Of course. I won¡¯t. The shower¡¯s at the end of that hall on the right. Leave your clothes outside and I¡¯ll put them in the wash.¡±

    I¡­ can¡¯t tell if I¡¯m intimidating her or accidentally flirting with her. Neither her face nor her body language shows much of anything, and before I can ask, she walks off and joins Clutter in the kitchen. They start to talk, him as vibrant as can be with his tail wagging nonstop, and her completely nonchalant with eyes that look half-lidded from boredom.

    It¡¯s definitely a start contrast. But hey, if they¡¯re happy together, then who am I to judge? I chuckle to myself and walk to the door she pointed out, posters of band merch and fashion magazine covers taking up equal space on the stone walls, and pull on the handle. The bathroom door creaks open to reveal a jet-black shower curtain, black towels, a black porcelain toilet, and a bunch of black cosmetics.

    ¡°Definitely feels like her bathroom.¡± I note as I shrug off my clothes, set Fleur¡¯s brooch on the counter, and drop the rest into the hallway before shutting the door behind me. ¡°Nice of her to let us use it, that¡¯s for sure. I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d be so trusting if my partner rolled up with a random girl and asked to use my shower.¡±

    ¡°She trusts Clutter a lot. Well¡­ actually¡­ I don¡¯t know if ¡®trust¡¯ is the right word.¡± Pearl says with a smile. ¡°They¡¯re absolutely infatuated with each other. She¡¯s just really bad at showing it.¡±

    Aw, that¡¯s adorable. With the thought of Clutter and his goth girlfriend being all lovey-dovey at the forefront of my mind, I pull back the shower curtain and set the water running. After a few seconds to let it get hot enough, I step in and pull the curtain shut behind me. The black fabric blocks more than a little of the light, and I have to squint to find the soap¨Cwhich is, unsurprisingly, also black.

    I stare at the chunk of soap as the water cascades over my shoulders. This might take a little more effort than I anticipated.

    <hr>

    Midnight black fluff fills my face and scrubs my skin as I work like hell to get all the water and sticky soap scum off of my body. Whatever was in that soap was not completely water soluble¨Ceven though it smelled amazing and felt like champagne on my skin. At least it looks like it¡¯s coming off on the towel. And¡­ well¡­ staining it with a slightly different shade of black than the towel itself.

    Once I¡¯m certain I¡¯ve gotten as much of the soap off as I can, I hook the towel over the shower bar and look around for something else to wear. There¡¯s a robe on the door, right next to another robe that looks like it¡¯d fit someone that¡¯s about four-foot ten. The smaller one¡¯s definitely Dell¡¯s, which means the bigger one is Clutter¡¯s. Or a guest¡¯s.

    Or mine. Yoink.

    I quickly pull on my underwear and slip on the robe. The material¡¯s softer than the towel, and it has a slightly cool feel against my warm skin. Feels pretty damn nice if I do say so myself. I make sure the sash around the center is tied, smooth it out, and pull open the door.

    Clutter¡¯s face appears an inch from mine. He yelps in surprise, his hand hovering in a knock-ready fist that he whips back with the force of an inverse punch.

    ¡°I was about to knock! I¡¯m sorry!¡± He apologizes. ¡°Are you done?¡±

    I nod and step out of the door. ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    He bows a little. ¡°Thank you!¡±

    I smirk at the little blush on his cheeks, accented by a bunch of black kiss marks. He laughs guiltily and ducks into the room before I can comment on all of them, and the lock clicks shut behind him.

    ¡°Adorable.¡± I chuckle and shake my head. ¡°Wonder how far they went while I was in there.¡±

    ¡°I have the answer.¡± Pearl grumbles. ¡°It made me retract my awareness.¡±

    So pretty damn far, got it. I stick my hands into the robe¡¯s pockets and walk out into the living room, where the sounds of a sewing machine rhythmically thunk out from a closed door. There¡¯s no sign of my clothes anywhere, so Dell must¡¯ve thrown them in the wash already. Well, I might as well try to get to know her a little better¨Ca friend of Clutter could be a friend of mine.

    I rap my knuckles against the door.

    ¡°It¡¯s open.¡± Dell states.

    That¡¯s an invitation, I guess. I grab the knob, twist it, and push the door into a room that¡¯s absolutely cluttered with fabrics, thread, machines, and half-finished clothes sitting on well-labeled sections of a long workbench. Dell has her back turned to me, working away at a sewing machine that hums with magic as a piece of fabric slides through it like butter.

    ¡°Hey. Sorry again about earlier.¡± She says without turning around. ¡°I¡¯ll be done in half an hour thanks to my spells. Just sit tight until then.¡±

    I open my mouth to say something, but before the words come out, my eyes fall on something. And when I notice it, it¡¯s all I can see; it¡¯s on the boxes, on the tags, and even on the order slips. The Preservation¡¯s logo is impossible to misunderstand.

 Chapter 149: Human, Through and Through

    A strangling, bitter heat rises from my stomach as I stare at the back of Dell¡¯s head. My throat burns with anger and betrayal, and words touch at the tip of my tongue as I hold back spells from filling coins with death. No, no¨Cthis is Clutter¡¯s girlfriend. I can¡¯t jump to conclusions here, even if everything comes together a little too well if I factor her into everything that¡¯s happened since I got back to this world.

    ¡°The Preservation, huh.¡± I say, stifling the rest of the words that want to come out. ¡°Are they good customers?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°They¡¯re my bosses.¡±

    Shit. That¡¯s one excuse down. I ball my hands and carefully shut the door behind me, pressing a closed fist to the stone as I summon a coin into my fingers. Shield fills it in a second, with just enough of a flare of magic that someone with heightened senses might be able to sense it. Dell doesn¡¯t even flinch.

    I press the coin to the door and activate the shield. ¡°Your bosses, huh? So, what, you¡¯re a contractor? Or do you actually report to a¡­ what were they called again? Talkers?¡±

    ¡°Speakers. And we don¡¯t really work for speakers¨Cthey¡¯re just higher ranking employees. More powerful, too. I guess I work for¡­ whoever¡¯s in charge of Palastia.¡± She shrugs again. ¡°My manager¡¯s name is Tobias Jeston, if that¡¯s closer to what you¡¯re asking.¡±

    ¡­Manager? The preservation has managers. For people with Classes. On the other world. I¡­ just¡­ wow. That sounds like the exact opposite of what I¡¯d want if I came by a class coin the normal way. But it makes perfect sense if they¡¯re trying to control the supply.

    ¡°Toby. How often do you meet him?¡±

    ¡°Once a week. Sometimes two if I¡¯m finishing up a batch. Which I¡¯m putting on hold for you and Clutter, so don¡¯t tell him if you see him, okay?¡± She turns, and I step just to the side to block her vision of my coin. ¡°Clutter really likes you. He also complains a lot about you, which he doesn¡¯t really do for anyone else. Oh, yeah, he¡¯s also scared shitless of your pet painted dane; speaking of, where is she?¡±

    I frown and look over my shoulder. ¡°Could¡¯ve sworn she came up the stairs with us. But¡­ wait, didn¡¯t she go do something else before we even got here? Am I losing it?¡±

    A huff directly enters my mind. ¡°I am speaking to you from a very long distance away. You can ascertain my motions when I make them, as I am transmitting directly into your mind. As for whatever else you may have thought, that would be your own imagination filling in the gaps.¡±

    Pearl frowns, then leans forward. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to her¨Cshe left an illusory double behind that only you and I can see.¡±

    Illumisia sighs theatrically. ¡°Do you have to ruin the fun so early, Pearlescence?¡±

    As she speaks, a blood red duplicate of Illumisia appears out of nowhere. She walks straight through me and takes a long sniff of Dell¡¯s hair, then turns away with a sneer of disgust.

    ¡°She smells like Clutter. I do not enjoy the assumptions I have just made.¡±

    So she wasn¡¯t technically ¡®here¡¯ all this time. That¡¯s pointlessly confusing, but there must be a reason for it¨Cmaybe she can¡¯t focus on the duplicate and whatever else she¡¯s doing at the same time. My lips curl into a grin that I stifle before Dell can get suspicious.

    ¡°She must¡¯ve stayed outside.¡±

    ¡°Oh. I kind of wanted to meet her.¡± Dell sighs, then turns back around with a wave of her hand. ¡°You aren¡¯t with the Preservation?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Nope.¡±

    Dell snorts. ¡°Well, good luck with whatever you¡¯re trying to do. This place is nice enough for now, but in a while, the preservation¡¯s going to really take it over. Hey, do you want me to talk to Toby for you? I bet I could get you a job, but the process will take a few weeks.¡±

    I calmly nod, but my heart¡¯s beating like hell again. ¡°The preservation is going to take Palastia? Not to be a naysayer, but¡­  is that a good idea? Aren¡¯t the horizonguards goddamn terrifying?

    ¡°I wouldn''t know¨CI¡¯m not part of the negotiations. All I can tell you is that one of them is looking to ¡®broaden his horizons¡¯, and the Preservation wants to step in and fill that void.¡± Dell shifts to push the fabric against the sewing machine, which somehow hems it perfectly. ¡°We¡¯ve been working close to a native company, Stonestep Solutions, and we¡¯re getting closer and closer to a deal every day.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a hell of a lot of knowledge for someone not in the know.¡± I say warily. ¡°Do you¡­ know what happened with the Preservation back on Earth?¡±

    She pauses, then goes right back to work. ¡°Did something happen on Earth? I haven¡¯t been back in¡­ wow, it¡¯s been close to a year.¡±

    It¡¯s my turn to shrug. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m wondering¨Cthey were supposed to announce something a few weeks ago, but then they just removed it from their website.¡± I lie through my teeth. ¡°Were you supposed to finish that deal with¡­ ¡®Stonestep Solutions¡¯... a few weeks ago?¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Whatever tension had taken her leaves with a quiet sigh of relief. ¡°It¡¯s never had a set date, but I wouldn¡¯t put it past Plead and his pencil-pushers to claim we were right there. Damn it, we can¡¯t afford to lose even more face with the public.¡±

    As Dell¡¯s hands ball into fists, all I can think is that her words absolutely do not sound like the frustrations of a low-level employee. Either she¡¯s lying to me about her station, or the preservation has so few people stationed here that their outfitter gets filled in on the progress of a secret negotiation. Or maybe I¡¯m not creative enough to speculate the truth.

    I wonder if the ribbon horizonguard already knew about this. Hell, I wonder if I¡¯m supposed to be her solution to this.

    So¡­ what do I do with Dell? I step up right behind her, and she looks over her shoulder. A polite smile gets her to turn back around, and I summon a projectile-filled coin into my hand. Killing her would have completely unknown consequences. There¡¯s a chance she¡¯s pivotal to whatever the preservation is planning, and one well-placed projectile could end their plans before they really began.

    It could also do absolutely nothing but shove suspicion onto me like a thousand glaring spotlights. Then I¡¯d have her death on my hands for less than no reason¨Cand Clutter¡¯s loyalty would be lost. I toy with the idea of killing her, but it just doesn¡¯t feel right. The greatest possibility is that she¡¯s a replaceable cog in a larger machine. But¡­ she¡¯s still a part of that machine.

    Maybe there¡¯s something I can actually gain from this. I send the projectile away and dispel the shield; if I want this to work, I can¡¯t have her suspecting me of anything. To her, I¡¯m just Shelby¨CClutter¡¯s friend and employer. The only way she finds out that I¡¯m the Gambler as well is if she goes back to Earth, or the preservation people here brief her on the situation.

    ¡­Actually, there¡¯s one really important thing I need to make sure of before I do anything else. I pull out my Class Card, type a quick message to Clutter, and hope that he¡¯ll answer it while in the shower. Before I can even lower my arm the reply flashes in a hologram, and I feel a wicked grin split my face as I send it away.

    Somehow, Clutter never told Dell my name. This makes everything else I want to do so much easier.

    ¡°Thanks for the offer, but I¡¯m not really looking for a job right now.¡± I say as honestly as I can. ¡°Although if you have an address for the preservation headquarters, I might need one when the quest Clutter and I are doing is over.¡±

    Dell nods easily. ¡°I¡¯ll write it down for you before you leave. If, uh, you do decide you want a job¡­ do you mind telling them I sent you? There¡¯s a¡­ recruitment bonus we get if we bring in people with classes.¡±

    ¡®Recruitment bonus¡¯. Even if that¡¯s exactly what she¡¯s making it out to be, I¡¯m not feeling particularly generous right now. But it could be code for how the preservation captures people who don¡¯t fit their ¡®legal¡¯ description of class-bearers.

    ¡°Oh, of course I can do that.¡± I say with saccharine sweetness. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get even more than what you¡¯re hoping for.¡±

    I offer her a smile and a thumbs-up. Her face doesn¡¯t change, but she sits up a little straighter, which I choose to take as happiness. Then she narrows her shoulders, leans in, and really gets to work on my clothes.

    Which gives me the opportunity to check some slips. I quietly step to the side, and without trying to hide anything at all, start brazenly looking through the stuff that hasn¡¯t been packed away yet. Most of the labels say they¡¯re going to random places¨Cprobably just where other preservation members live¨Cbut that¡¯s not what I¡¯m looking for.

    ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡± Dell asks, but not accusingly.

    I look over my shoulder and raise an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m looking at labels. Clutter told you I¡¯m pretty new here, right? Figured I should have some¡­ safe places to go if I get in trouble. And where¡¯s safer than the preservation¡¯s places?¡±

    She stares at me for a second, then nods. ¡°Most of those are just going to people¡¯s places, but if you find an address that multiple boxes are addressed to, then that¡¯s one of our businesses or headquarters. You could probably go to any address if you¡¯re really in trouble, though I¡¯d recommend somewhere that¡¯s not someone¡¯s house.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± I say thoughtfully and set an address slip aside. ¡°What about the rest of the people here? How are the not-humans in your experience?¡±

    Dell goes silent. For¡­ an uncomfortably long period of time. I watch her face go through countless extremely tiny shifts, none of which are even close to readable for me, but she doesn¡¯t seem¡­ happy. Her eyes lock with mine, and I can feel her searching for something in my expression.

    ¡°Clutter¡¯s one of the good ones.¡± She says tensely. ¡°And when the preservation comes in, everything will get a lot better.¡±

    Uh¡­ what the hell is that supposed to mean? I try to keep my suspicion off my face, and from how Dell doesn¡¯t react at all, I do a damn good job of it. She nods to herself, or maybe to me, and goes right back to sewing my clothes. There¡¯s something in her choice of words that sends a horrible shiver down my spine, and a small part of me wants to get Clutter as far away from this woman as I possibly can.

    I just¡­ don¡¯t know why. This is definitely a check in the ¡®bring Clutter on the quest¡¯ column, though. And it completely removes whatever lingering doubts I have about what I¡¯m going to do. I lean down to a box that¡¯s three-quarters of the way filled with clothes, gently push most of them aside, and tuck a relocation coin under the bottom-most jacket.

    Then I move on to the next box¨Cone with a different shipping label. That one gets a relocation, too. So does the next one, and the next, and the next. Until there¡¯s a relocation coin hidden inside a box that¡¯s going to every single preservation store, business, or anything that¡¯s not a simple home. The delivery dates for all of them are still weeks away, so this¡¯ll be something for after the quest.

    And once I¡¯m done with that, I flick a final coin between my hands and set it on top of the dustiest shelf I can find. Dell doesn¡¯t notice any of my efforts, or she just ignores them, and either option definitely works for me. I take a step back and silently take in each of the relocations I¡¯ve got hidden away, all ready for a personal touch in just a few short weeks.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll leave you to it.¡± I step to the door and pull it open. ¡°Thanks again for the help. I¡¯ll be sure to repay you someday soon.¡±

    She waves without looking back. ¡°Humans have to stick together. It¡¯s the only way we win this.¡±

    As I pull the door shut behind me, that disgusting feeling returns.

 Chapter 150: Clothed By An Enemy

    When Clutter finally comes out of the bathroom, I wave to get his attention and pull him away from going right back to Dell. He tilts his head at me and follows without hesitation, and¡­ there¡¯s still a mark on his face. It¡¯s like a little¡­ pinch? Probably just a hickey. I shake my head and refocus; there¡¯s way more important things going on right now.

    I drop a purification coin at my feet. Clutter gasps, but when he sees the salty mist burst into being, he relaxes. It¡¯s not like I think Dell has her own house bugged, but better safe than sorry.

    ¡°You can¡¯t tell Dell my name.¡± I say quietly. ¡°She¡¯s working with my enemies.¡±

    His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens to say something loud. I grab his face with my hand and hold up one finger to my own mouth. Even though his eyes stay the same size, he seems to get the message.

    ¡°No yelling, please. Just talk loud enough that Dell can kind of hear us, but not tell what we¡¯re saying. Can you do that for me?¡± I stare into his eyes, and he slowly nods. ¡°Thank you very much. I just want you to know that I¡¯m not here to try and destroy your relationship, so for your own safety, you can tell Dell that I was lying to you when things eventually go down.¡±

    He swallows hard as I remove my hand. ¡°But that means things are going to happen, right? What¡¯s going to happen to you?¡±

    I blow out a long breath and shrug. ¡°No idea, Clutter. Hopefully the horizonguard and Miss S. will be able to do something, but if it comes down to it, I have the nuclear option.¡±

    ¡°Illumisia.¡± He whispers reverently.

    ¡°...Yeah.¡± I frown. ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    He glances away. ¡°I¡­ um¡­ promise you won¡¯t be mad?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± I state flatly.

    ¡°Oh. Um¡­ do you promise you won¡¯t hurt me?¡±

    ¡°Of¡­ of course I won¡¯t hurt you. I¡¯m not that kind of person, Clutter¨CI only hurt people that deserve it. At least I¡¯m pretty sure¨CI¡¯ll have to do some memory digging if you want a full count.¡±

    He laughs a little. It¡¯s awkward, but¡­ real. ¡°Illumisia told me herself. I¡­ know she can talk to you. She made me promise I wouldn¡¯t tell anyone, but when she went to do whatever she¡¯s doing right now, she made sure I knew you weren¡¯t included in ¡®anyone¡¯.¡±

    Illumisia told him? That really doesn¡¯t sound like her. Except it kind of does explain how she worked with Clutter for the entire time I wasn¡¯t here. Actually, if I think about it a little more, it does make sense that she would flex her power and kind of¡­ force Clutter into servitude.

    I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. ¡°She isn¡¯t threatening you, is she?¡±

    Clutter straightens a little too hard. ¡°No. She isn¡¯t.¡±

    So that¡¯s a yes. I¡¯ll have to talk to Illumisia about that when we get a moment without anyone around. Actually, Clutter can be in on the conversations now¨Cso she can get grilled while he watches. She¡¯ll hate that.

    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll leave that for now, and circle back to it later. So¨Cno telling Dell my name, no letting it slip that I¡¯m working with who I¡¯m working with, and make sure you don¡¯t get caught in the crossfire when things go down. Got it?¡±

    ¡°Understood loud and clear.¡± He confirms. ¡°And¡­ um¡­ thanks for trusting me. It feels nice.¡±

    I purse my lips without saying anything. His expression doesn¡¯t change, and he turns away with his tail halfway to wagging. If he¡¯s actually known about Illumisia for a while, then he¡¯s done a damn good job at keeping her secret. And¡­ what if he didn¡¯t tell Dell my name on purpose? Even if Illumisia told him not to, he¡¯s still the one that kept the secret. So I can trust him for anything but combat.

    Before the quest starts, I absolutely need to judge that. To find out if the thing at the graveyard was the exception or the norm.

    ¡°You¡¯re planning something, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at the sound of Clutter¡¯s voice. ¡°Mh?¡±

    He gestures at Dell¡¯s closed door. ¡°You definitely did something to her shipments. It¡¯s what I would do if I wanted to hurt the people someone was working with, not just the person. Do you need me to do anything?¡±

    ¡°What makes you think¡­¡± I trail off, then shake my head. ¡°Nevermind; you¡¯re right. If you can just ask her if she¡¯s going to make the shipments on time, while you reference the labels, then that¡¯s perfect.¡±

    ¡°I can definitely do that.¡± He grabs the door handle and gently twists it. ¡°See you when the clothes are ready!¡±

    <hr>

    Sitting and waiting while Clutter is in there with Dell is strangely uncomfortable. I just have this feeling that there¡¯s something happening in there¨Cbut I have no idea what it is. They could be talking about how to screw me over, or they could just be making out, or Clutter could be doing exactly what he said he¡¯d do.

    Yet, for some reason, I just can¡¯t shake the feeling that I¡¯m overlooking something. Illumisia¡¯s illusory clone brushes up against my leg in a mess of sensations that I know aren¡¯t real, and she looks up at me with an unreadable expression.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Clutter is stronger than you think, yet weaker than you know.¡± She says cryptically. ¡°Continue to help him and he will be a powerful ally. Leave him to fester and he will be less than nothing. Either way, he will not bring you harm. I have made sure of that.¡±

    I reach down and scratch the top of Illumisia¡¯s head. ¡°Don¡¯t bully him too much, you hear me?¡±

    She snorts disdainfully. ¡°I have done nothing of the sort for months now. From what you told me¡­ I recommend you take Clutter with you on the quest. It will be highly beneficial for both you and him.¡±

    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re not bullying him, then are you developing a little bit of a soft spot for your bipedal siblings?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She snaps. ¡°They are a group of system-uplifted mongrels who have forgotten what they once were. It will take a very long time to undo the propaganda they have suffered for untold centuries.¡±

    Right. Because wanting to save your kinsmen with hard work of your own definitely isn¡¯t ¡®developing a soft spot¡¯ for them. But from the way Illumisia huffs and sits down on her haunches, eyes locked in the direction of Dell¡¯s room and her body language completely closed off, this part of the conversation is over.

    ¡°How about you?¡± I gently tap on Pearl¡¯s shell. ¡°What do you think of all this?¡±

    ¡°What do I think? Ha.¡± Pearl puffs out her chest and crosses her arms. ¡°I have absolutely no idea what I think! People in love do really weird things for really weird reasons, so it¡¯s super hard to judge them! But Dell is also part of the preservation, so I completely hate her.¡±

    ¡°Seconded.¡± Illumisia grumbles.

    A very small part of me says I should play devil¡¯s advocate here. The entire rest of my being relentlessly bullies and mocks it into submission. Dell¡¯s moment of reckoning is going to be when she sees the truth about the Preservation. Only question is if Clutter will want to stay by her side, or kick her to the curb.

    I know it¡¯s selfish of me, but I hope he chooses the resort¡¯s side. We can use all the support we can get in this world.

    <hr>

    Half an hour later they finally leave the room. I look up at the sound, send away my Class Card, and raise an eyebrow at the new kiss mark on Clutter¡¯s neck. He raises a hand to cover it and smiles awkwardly, but before he can get a word out, Dell tosses a bundle of cloth at me.

    ¡°There you go. I¡¯ll get your clothes from the dryer while you change.¡± She says and walks right past me. ¡°Good luck with your quest. Don¡¯t let Clutter break.¡±

    I hold up the clothes with a nod. ¡°I won¡¯t let him get hurt. Thanks again.¡±

    She nods back and disappears down the hallway. Clutter raises his own bundle of fabric, then ducks back into Dell¡¯s sewing room and pulls the door shut behind him. I push off the wall I was leaning against and beeline for the bathroom, silently rip open the door, and pull it shut behind me.

    With a flick of my wrist, the clothes unfurl into a simple black dress¨Cwhich is a little shorter than I¡¯d like¨Cbut definitely looks well made. Not as good as the stuff I got from Sami, that¡¯s for sure, but I don¡¯t think anything else could be. Except for one major distinction; this stuff absolutely reeks of magic. And my awareness can¡¯t tell what kind of magic it is.

    ¡°Pearl.¡± I whisper. ¡°You too, Illumisia. Can either of you make out what¡¯s in these things? Or should I just purify them the second we¡¯re far enough away?¡±

    Illumisia presses her nose against the dress and takes a long sniff. ¡°There are protective magics woven into the fibers, but they are solely to protect the fibers. It is as strong as stone, though as you can see, it retains its malleability.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s also temperature controlled, and should stick to your body instead of falling. There¡¯s also¡­ um¡­¡± Pearl trails off as she squints at the fabric. ¡°I think there¡¯s some kind of shadow spell in here too. Why would there be a shadow spell in here?¡±

    I hold the dress at arms¡¯ length. ¡°Is there anything that could track, hurt, or hinder me?¡±

    Both of them shake their heads at the same time.

    ¡°Well, then I guess there¡¯s no reason I can¡¯t put it on.¡± I shift off my bathrobe and shimmy into the dress. It sticks to my skin as it flows over my body like a shadow made of fabric, and when I smooth it out, it¡¯s somehow thinner than a fingernail. ¡°Oh, wow. Thank god for Illumisia¡¯s flesh transfusion, or else I would definitely be bulging out of this.¡±

    ¡°It looks as if someone painted a dress onto you.¡± Illumisia states. ¡°Yet it shows no hint of your undergarments. Such an amusing use of magic.¡±

    I nod in agreement and twist to see how the dress reacts to my movements. Instead of the pull and resistance of fabric, it feels like absolutely nothing. The dress shifts like it is a part of my body, and as I watch myself in the mirror, it somehow looks perfectly natural. Even when I lift a leg, which should definitely make it ride up, it shows nothing.

    ¡°Wow. Talk about a dress designed to live in.¡± I begrudgingly compliment Dell¡¯s work as I pin Fleur¡¯s brooch over my chest. ¡°I wonder if Sami could replicate this if I bring it back; I¡¯d love some pants, a shirt, and a jacket made of this stuff.¡±

    With a completely unnecessary smooth-down of the shadowy dress, I nod at myself in the mirror and hang the bath robe back up on its hook. Then I open the bathroom door, check the hallway for Dell, and step out once I¡¯m sure it¡¯s clear. Another click accompanies Clutter leaving Dell¡¯s room, and instead of a high-class garment like mine, Dell left him some clothes that look like trendy street fashion from back on Earth.

    ¡°How do I look?¡± He asks, spreading his arms to present himself with a wagging tail.

    My awareness feels Dell walk up from behind me before I hear her. ¡°You look great, Clutter.¡± She says as she hands me my freshly washed clothes. ¡°Will you be coming back here tonight?¡±

    He shakes his head as she hands him his clothes. ¡°I don¡¯t want to risk you getting hurt. I¡¯ll see if my usual place has any rooms left, or I¡¯ll go stay with Dizzy if it doesn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Stay safe, you two.¡± Dell looks between us, then ducks back into her room. The rhythmic clicking of a sewing machine hums to life not five seconds later.

    I share a look with Clutter, who nods and motions at the door. We quietly move to leave, but just before we do, I feel at the relocation coins I left in Dell¡¯s room. They¡¯re all still in place, and don¡¯t feel like they moved at all. I¡¯m going to be one nasty surprise for the assholes in charge of their attempt to take over Palastia in a few weeks.

    With that pleasant thought at the forefront of my mind, I step out of Dell¡¯s apartment and Clutter closes the door behind me. We walk in silence down the hall, down the stairs, and onto the streets below. Clutter¡¯s oddly quiet through the entire thing, and far less energetic in literally everything he does.

    ¡°You alright, buddy?¡±

    He startles, then puts on a smile. ¡°Oh, um, yes. I¡¯m good! I¡¯m thinking a lot, but I¡¯m good. Follow me to the jewelry store.¡±

 Chapter 151: Uptown in Loaned Clothes

    While we walk, the squirming feeling in my chest just grows and grows. Clutter barely talks at all, and considering how chatty he normally is, something¡¯s off. Maybe not wrong, per se, but definitely not normal. He quietly steps around other pedestrians, keeps as close to the walls as possible, and just¡­ makes himself as small as possible.

    A raucous group of heavily intoxicated people¨Chumans and other species alike¨Cburst out of an equally loud bar with laughter and annoyed yells on their heels. I grimace as some of them stumble against the wall, using it to keep themselves from tumbling over. Clutter¨Cwho is directly in their path¨Cjust makes a weak whimper as they approach.

    I step in and place a shield along the wall and around us, creating a secondary outer barrier for the drunks to fumble along. He looks down at his feet, his tail completely immoble, and winces as they walk by. Not a single one of them even registers that we¡¯re here. But Clutter¨Che¡¯s acting like they¡¯re going to beat him up just for being in their way.

    ¡°Something happened. And I know Dell has something to do with it.¡± I state. Clutter somehow leans over even further, his shoulders sagging like wet cardboard. ¡°If it has something to do with me, we can terminate this agreement the second we find the quest.¡±

    He straightens all at once, like someone just skewered him from head-to-toe with an electrified pole. ¡°No! It has absolutely nothing to do with anything you said, did, or¡­ are!¡± He says quickly, and¡­ with a little desperation. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I¡­ you¡­ I¡¯m starting to think things that I¡¯m not sure I should be thinking.¡±

    ¡°Things you shouldn¡¯t be thinking.¡± I dispel my shield and nudge him onward. ¡°Are they things that involve me, or that you can tell me about?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ um¡­ technically, no.¡± He starts moving again with slow, plodding steps. ¡°You might¡¯ve set a few of those thoughts in motion, but you aren¡¯t really the focus of any of them. Because I am. And I don¡¯t even know if these thoughts are good for me, bad for me, or just¡­ nothing at all.¡±

    He trails off into silence, and the din of the crowd around us slowly closes in until I can barely make out any other sounds. Even though it¡¯s only a little past noon, the streets seem much darker and unbelievably dangerous knowing that the masked attackers could¡¯ve already sold my info to any number of people by now. I reach to put my hands in my pockets, only to feel them brush against smooth fabric without so much as a wrinkle.

    I hiss in annoyance, then chide myself for being annoyed. This is not the thing I need to be worried about right now¨CClutter¡¯s acting weird, every shadow could be concealing a dagger, and we¡¯re on a strict time limit with an unknown amount of progress. If Clutter doesn¡¯t want to talk about it, I don¡¯t know if I should push him for the truth or to let him stew¨CI¡¯ve never really been in this situation before.

    ¡°So¡­ well¡­ you don¡¯t have to say anything if you don¡¯t want to.¡± I decide as I say it and pat Clutter on the shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re obviously working through some things, and I¡¯m right here if you want another perspective on ¡®em. But if you don¡¯t, then I kind of need you to focus on the quest. I know that makes me sound like an asshole.¡±

    He looks over at me with a frown when I don¡¯t say anything else. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to put another ¡®but¡¯ after that last sentence?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Nope; I¡¯m just being an asshole here. Please lead the way to the jewelry shop. You can make your choice while I¡¯m inside.¡±

    Suddenly, the stones under his feet seem very interesting to Clutter. ¡°Make my choice. But what if I don¡¯t know what I want to choose?¡±

    ¡°Well, if you knew what you wanted to choose, it wouldn¡¯t really be a choice in the first place.¡± I nudge him with my elbow and offer him a toothy smile. ¡°C¡¯mon, let¡¯s get this over with. Then you can go do whatever you want until tomorrow, and I¡¯ll go talk with Dizzy and Nib on my own.¡±

    ¡°No, I still want to be a part of this.¡± He insists. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ other things are weird. I¡­ um¡­ well¡­ Dell bit me.¡±

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    He motions at the mark on his face that was still there after he took a shower. The same one that she kissed over again, and that he hasn¡¯t wiped off.

    ¡°When we were¡­ um¡­ you know¡­¡± He trails off with a blush and looks away. ¡°She bit me. Hard enough to leave a bruise. I told her a bunch that I don¡¯t like getting hurt, and that I especially don¡¯t like¡­ um¡­ intimate pain, but she just¡­ told me to get over it. And that really, really hurt; more than just being bit.¡±

    I¡¯ll be honest; I was expecting some kind of human supremacy thing from how Preservation minded Dell is. Definitely not ignoring boundaries in the bedroom. And since I¡¯m not exactly the czar of sex, I don¡¯t really know how to comfort him.

    ¡°That¡¯s just wrong. If anyone ignores what you say when you¡¯re at your most intimate, that¡¯s just so icky. Anyone with a brain knows that that¡¯s how trust dies.¡± Pearl huffs. ¡°Tell him that if she doesn¡¯t respect his boundaries, especially if he says it multiple times, that needs a really big talk to clear things up.¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°You¡­ really need to tell her that.¡± I say, completely butchering Pearl¡¯s sentiment. ¡°It¡¯s kind of a dick move to ignore what you¡¯re comfortable with.¡±

    He nods sadly. ¡°I know. And we talk, and she says she knows, and then she¡¯s nice for a little bit¡­ like, she didn¡¯t do it for two weeks until today. But when we talked afterwards, she said I was blowing things out of proportion. That it isn¡¯t a big deal, since I heal faster thanks to my Body stat. And she said¡­ no, sorry, nevermind. I¡¯m blowing it out of proportion, just like she said.¡±

    ¡°Clutter, no.¡± I lean in and wrap an arm around his shoulders. ¡°You deserve to be comfortable. When we get back from the quest, I¡¯ll help you talk to Dell.¡±

    He snaps to me, horrified. ¡°No! That¡¯d just make it worse. I¡­ I can do it on my own. I have to do it on my own. Look; we¡¯re here. Up there, that store at the end of the street with the sign that¡¯s super intricate? That¡¯s the jewelry store. I¡¯ll be back when you message me!¡±

    Clutter squirms out of my half-hug, sprints through the crowd of disturbed people, and disappears. My awareness tracks him until the end of my range, and Pearl shakes her head with worry for a few seconds longer. There¡¯s definitely more that Clutter¡¯s not telling me; especially if everything he just said is what he feels safe to talk about.

    ¡°Illumisia.¡± I whisper.

    She sprints after Clutter before I say anything. ¡°I will report if anything horrible happens. When do you want me to interfere?¡±

    ¡°Before he gets badly hurt. But even then, try to run¨Cwe don¡¯t want to cause a scene.¡± I say, then turn back to the street. ¡°Thanks, Illumisa.¡±

    ¡°Think nothing of it.¡±

    I take a deep breath to steady myself and push down all the discomfort I feel at imagining what else Clutter isn¡¯t telling me about Dell. My heart beats loud in my ears, even though I haven¡¯t done anything that justifies it, and I call on my Class Card to summon my mask. It appears in my hand, and I bring it up to my face, blacking everything out and leaving me with a world of outlines.

    Last lead, here I come.

    The magic of the mask works just as well as I expected it to. People around me who raised eyebrows or made note of the piece of stone in my hand flinch ever so slightly, then go back to exactly whatever they were doing before I took it out. I stand around for a few seconds, just to make sure there wasn¡¯t anyone like Ursula or March who could see me through the mask, and when it doesn¡¯t look like there¡¯s anyone, I start to walk.

    Using the images of the people I witnessed while escorting Dora and Gisela, I try to put on the same haughty, self-confident airs that those rich people had. I straighten my back, set my stride to exactly the most comfortable speed for me¨Cregardless of how fast everyone else is moving¨Cand do my best to completely ignore everyone around me.

    After about ten seconds of that, I loosen my shoulders a little and sigh. It¡¯s way too much work to bother. Just the clothes and the mask will have to do, and I should be able to fake the right brand of confidence. The sign Cllutter pointed out stands strong against the slight wind, ornate filigree and an inlay of different metal than most of it spelling out ¡®Centercasm¡¯. No idea if that¡¯s a brand name or the store itself, but a really rich person wouldn''t care¨Cthey¡¯d walk in there, buy whatever they liked the look of, and ask as few questions as possible.

    At least, that¡¯s how I assume it¡¯d work. Can¡¯t really imagine Noland of all people doing it, but then again, I haven¡¯t seen him actually buy anything.

    I shake my head and chuckle to myself as I pull open the door. A sea of new outlines shoots up like a poorly optimized game loading in a little too slowly¨Cwhich, I guess, is a complement to whoever made the door. It being perfectly airtight is kind of amazing. I walk right into the place, ignoring the other three customers who are currently talking to the only clerk working at the moment.

    As I stare at a glass case open on the far side filled with jewelry, I realize that I really should¡¯ve asked Clutter for more details. Getting all the info I need on my own is not going to be an easy task. I pull out my Class Card and start typing out a message while pretending to peruse the cases, then slow to a halt as I feel something very faint¨Cbut very familiar.

    In one of the cases, right between the clerk and¡­ their¡­ customers, is a necklace with a pendant that feels exactly like the plasticy stuff. To either side of it are a half dozen rings made with the stuff as well, but the plastic inside of them is barely recognizable from the magic rolling off of it. Those must be the stones Clutter got info on.

    I finish typing my message, then send my Class Card with a flick of my wrist. I¡¯d come here completely ready to go on a wild goose chase trying to find who bought the jewelry, but now that I¡¯m here, I¡¯m faced with another problem altogether; anyone can buy this stuff. Compared to how magical a bunch of the other stuff in this place is, it¡¯s probably of middling cost, too. Meaning there could be dozens of those rings scattered about Palastia.

    The real problem is that my skill thinks this place is just as likely to lead us to the quest as the graveyard was. That place gave us the Marywell Den bauble. So this place has to give me something that¡¯s¨Cif I¡¯m interpreting my skill¡¯s message right¨Cexactly as likely to lead us to the quest as the bauble is.

    ¡°Excuse me, is there anything I can help you with?¡± A peppy, almost squeaky voice comes from just below my elbow. I blink and look down at the small Paindne standing next to me with her hands clasped behind her back. ¡°My daddy runs this store, and I know everything we¡¯ve got for sale! Maker, stone, purity¨Cwhatever you need, I can show you!¡±

    I tilt my head to the side at the sight of this¡­ child? ¡°How old are you?¡±

    She taps her chin thoughtfully. ¡°Umm¡­ are you from here, or are you human? Oh, wait, daddy said I can¡¯t ask masked customers that. I¡¯m ___________ if you¡¯re from here, or twelve if you¡¯re from Earth!¡±

    ¡°Ah. Is that old enough to be working?¡± I ask with a glance at the three customers and the clerk. Either that¡¯s her dad, or her dad owns the place.

    ¡°My name¡¯s Clamber, and yes, I am!¡± She says proudly. ¡°I just got my jeweler¡¯s license three months ago! And soon enough, I¡¯ll be able to try and get a Class to help me out! So, can I help you, or do you already know what you want?¡±

 Chapter 152: Plastic in a Gemstone Neighborhood

    As the small paindne child stares up at me with wide, excited eyes, I can¡¯t help but feel a little out of place. Just as I¡¯m about to say something, a single word from the other group catches my attention: trade. Without turning from Clamber, I focus on my awareness and feel at their group just a little harder. Instead of Worth coins, simple disks of magic-less gemstone are switching hands.

    I¡¯m pretty sure I haven¡¯t seen anyone use anything but Worth since I got here. That¡¯s definitely worth checking into.

    ¡°We can pay with something other than Worth here?¡±

    Clamber nods without hesitation. ¡°As long as the materials have equal Worth values as the things they¡¯re being traded for, we don¡¯t need to use Worth.¡± She says with practiced ease. ¡°I thought you¡¯d already know that. Don¡¯t you have a class?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I do, but I thought¡­ ah, nevermind, you¡¯re just shortcutting some steps.¡± I chuckle to myself and shake my head. ¡°Don¡¯t know why that felt a little weird to me. Could it be because the things they¡¯re trading in don¡¯t have any Worth to them at all?¡±

    ¡°They¡­ don¡¯t have Worth?¡± Clamber frowns and looks over at the group. ¡°That¡¯s not possible. The system wouldn¡¯t let things work if Worth wasn¡¯t being exchanged. I¡¯ll go see what¡¯s going on.¡±

    I blink in surprise as Clamber confidently walks right up to the group, plants herself between them and the clerk, and puts her hands on her hips. ¡°Scooch, how come those coins aren¡¯t Worth any worth?¡±

    The clerk adjusts their tie with a cough. ¡°Young lady, we have customers.¡±

    ¡°Yes, customers that apparently aren¡¯t paying.¡± Clamber shoots the clerk¨CScooch¨Ca llooks that¡¯s both angry and inquisitive. ¡°Does daddy know about this? Because if he does, he didn¡¯t bother telling me.¡±

    ¡°I-I¡¯m sure the proprietor wouldn¡¯t intentionally leave you out of any business decisions, young lady. If you would be willing to wait just a moment, I can give these good people the service they¡­ aaand they¡¯re leaving. Wonderful.¡± Scooch sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. ¡°They were paying with interim Worth, young lady. Worthless coins as a promise for Worth delivered at a later date.¡±

    Clamber wrinkles her nose at the mere thought. ¡°That¡¯s extremely stupid. What guarantee do we have that they¡¯ll actually come back to pay later? You know the system rewards people for stealing if they don¡¯t get caught¨Cand they had masks on! We don¡¯t even know if they have a Class that makes stealing easier!¡±

    Scooch straightens his back and looks at me. ¡°Young lady, please. We have another¨C¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, just pretend I¡¯m not here.¡± I say with a smile in my voice, cutting off the clerk¡¯s escape route from the conversation. ¡°I¡¯m just as interested in ¡®interim Worth¡¯ as Clamber is.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ I¡­ aren¡¯t you in a hurry?¡± He asks desperately, looking between me and Clamber. When he gets no answer, he sighs and straightens his back. ¡°Our products are protected. If payment is not given on time, we extract it in other ways¨Ceither in favors or in flesh. Does that explanation satisfy you, young lady?¡±

    Clamber nods. ¡°See? Was that so hard to say?

    ¡°Hrm. You are quite the little thorn in my side.¡± Scooch says, but there¡¯s a trace of a prideful smile under his annoyed facade. Then he turns to me. ¡°I am assuming you will be paying in full, considering you spurred our little hellraiser into disrupting my gri¨Csale?¡±

    Was¡­ was he about to say ¡®grift¡¯? No way. That¡¯s hilarious. Well, I guess when your clientele is ninety percent masked people, you have to be a little shady yourself. Hopefully they don¡¯t start charging me for asking questions.

    ¡°Anything I buy will be paid for with Worth, you can count on that.¡± I assure him with a half-truth. ¡°So, I¡¯m specifically here for the things we¡¯re standing right above. What can you tell me about them?¡±

    ¡°Ah, our newest collection.¡± Scooch leans down and removes the plastic-like jewelry from the display case. He sets it down on the flat glass top, then steps back to let me get a closer look. ¡°Young lady, do you want to do the honours?¡±

    Clamber nearly squeals in excitement. She pulls on a pair of gloves, gently removes one of the rings from the stand, and holds it up as high as she can so I can get a good look. Considering all I can do is feel the magic coming off of it, I can¡¯t really ooh and aah at whatever the colours are. But the shape is pretty standard¨Can oval stone, set in a thin band that twists into a pattern like tree branches around the set stone.

    ¡°Is the band around it supposed to be magic too?¡± I ask as I lean in a little closer to pretend to get a better look. ¡°Because only the stone inside seems magical.¡±

    ¡°The material the band is made of is magically inert, so it doesn¡¯t mess with the stone.¡± Clamber explains as she prods at the band. ¡°We need to be really careful making these, since we could accidentally infuse some magic we don¡¯t want in the crafting process. That¡¯s why¨C¡±

    Scooch clears his throat to get Clamber¡¯s attention. ¡°The customer does not need to hear the entire making of the ring, young lady.¡±

    Clamber doesn¡¯t deflate like Clutter would, but I can see her shoulders sag just a little. And the small sway in her tail stops completely. My heart falls at the sight of the wind being taken out of her sails, and before she can completely gather herself, I hold up a hand at Scooch.

    ¡°No, no, I¡¯m interested. Very interested.¡± I smile, but neither of them can see it. ¡°I have a friend that¡¯s in the crafting business, and I was wondering how her tools didn¡¯t contaminate the end product. Maybe you use the same methods?¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    One single, happy tail swish against the floor is all I need to know I did good. ¡°Maybe! We use tools with a magically absorbent material between the magic source and the actual jewelry¨Cthat way the tool absorbs all the radiant magic instead of transmitting it. Of course that means we have to make really weird tools, ooh¨Chere, let me show you one!¡±

    She gently sets the ring back in its place and pulls out what looks like an engraving rod. The very end of it barely glistens with magic, and it looks like it¡¯s welded onto the rest of the rod, which¡­ feels like looking straight into a shadowy corner. Instead of having no magic, it feels like it¡¯d devour any magic that touched it.

    ¡°See this thing on the end? This is a stabilizer.¡± She points at the piece of magic metal with one finger. ¡°And the rest of it is made of an alloy that absorbs magic, but not really quickly; so when I engrave something on a ring, the top three-quarters of the engraver gets stabilized, which effectively stabilizes the rest of it, but no magic can seep into the tip that¡¯s doing the actual engraving! Neat, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    I nod honestly.

    Pearl nods right along with me. ¡°It¡¯s like what my people used before we developed our more sophisticated manufacturing methods. How neat is it that a completely different species came to almost the exact same conclusion?¡±

    Clamber beams with pride, unaware of the huge compliment she just got from Pearl. Then she seems to catch herself with a start, giggles, and stuffs her engraver back in the pouch she took it from.

    ¡°Sorry; I got sidetracked.¡± She says sheepishly as she picks up the ring once more. ¡°I don¡¯t remember what I already said, so I¡¯m just going to start over. This is our newest line, made from a material the system has yet to identify that we¡¯re calling ¡®Squirmstone¡¯. By subjecting the squirmstone to high heats and pressure, we turn the raw material into what you see here; a substance that swirls and squirms like a liquid, but that¡¯s as hard as fired clay.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°You turn the plastic stuff into that?¡±

    ¡°Oh, have you come across some of the raw materials?¡± Scooch cuts in with renewed interest. ¡°If you have, we would be willing to buy it for a very fair price.¡±

    ¡°Yeah! Our supplier disappeared without a trace a few weeks ago, so we¡¯re getting desperate.¡± Clamber adds ¡®helpfully¡¯, much to Scooch¡¯s regret. ¡°It¡¯s really weird; he was a shady guy, always muttering about something, but then¡­ poof! No more Squirmstone.¡±

    It really isn¡¯t a stone, and that name is not really¡­ good. But if the supplier came up with it, then maybe he knows more about the stuff than we do. Hell, maybe he¡¯s the clue my skill sent me here to find.

    ¡°Huh. What¡¯s his name? Maybe I could help you find him.¡±

    Scooch shakes his head. ¡°I highly doubt it; he was a strange one, and if I am right, he was looking into something that had to do with Stonestep Solutions. That, or they were looking into something that had to do with him¨CI can¡¯t quite remember which one it was.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Clamber agrees. ¡°I think they were looking into him¨Cthey came around asking about him, about where he lived, and all that stuff. Did we tell them anything?¡±

    ¡°No, we did not¨Cat least, neither I nor the proprietor did.¡± Scooch pushes up his glasses and smiles. ¡°Stonestep Solutions cannot intimidate their equals, no matter how they try.¡±

    ¡­Did they forget I¡¯m here? It kind of feels like they forgot I¡¯m here. I look between the two as they talk about Stonestep Solutions, the plastic supplier, and¡­ their dinner plans. Sounds like Scooch moonlights as Clamber¡¯s butler when the store¡¯s closed. Yet I come away from listening to the conversation feeling like I know just as much as I did before they started.

    ¡°Um, should I go?¡± I gesture at the door. ¡°Is this some kind of tactic to get me to leave?¡±

    Clamber¡¯s eyes go wide. ¡°No! Not at all! Didn¡¯t you hear us talking about dinner?¡±

    I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. ¡°...Dinner?¡±

    ¡°Yes, dinner. If you would like to join us, we would be happy to have you. Though I suppose you may have a busy schedule, which I apologize for not taking into consideration.¡± Scooch says, then looks down at the jewelry. ¡°Oh, my apologies; we were in the middle of selling you something. Are you in the market for a ring, necklace, or some other form of jewelry?¡±

    ¡°If you want anything besides what¡¯s up here, I can make it for you.¡± Clamber eagerly offers. ¡°Or¡­ I would, if we had any more squirmstone left. Sorry. I forgot.¡±

    This is¡­ one of the weirdest sales I¡¯ve ever been a part of. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s some kind of sales tactic to get me to let my guard down, so they can pounce, or even a ploy to get me trapped so Stonestep Solutions can hop in and claim my bounty. But their body languages, their facial expressions, just how friendly they¡¯re being¡­

    It¡¯s so goddamn confusing. Are all Paindne just friendly in general?

    ¡°If¨Cand this is a big if¨CI happen to have some¡­ squirmstone¡­ would you be willing to make me something?¡± I ask slowly.

    Clamber¡¯s eyes widen, and she nods vigorously. ¡°Yes! A thousand times yes! I won¡¯t even charge you for labor¨Cjust the cost of the band. When can you get it here? When can I start?¡±

    ¡°Whoah, hold on there. I never said I¨C¡±

    The smash of shattering glass echoes out from behind the display. I flinch back, coins filling my hands, and step between Clamber and the source of the noise. But my awareness didn¡¯t feel anything. Is this another attack from the masked people?

    With adrenaline filling my veins, I actually take in what my awareness is seeing. A shattered display case¡¯s bottom pane. Shards all over the ground, with a few droplets of blood scattered about. A few pieces of less expensive jewelry among the debris. And a very embarrassed Scooch, stepping back while cradling his tail, plucking shards of glass from it.

    ¡°...I may have gotten slightly too excited.¡± He says sheepishly. ¡°Young lady, why don¡¯t you take our friend here to the back room while I clean up and close for a short time?¡±

    Clamber sighs, but starts leading me towards a closed door anyway. ¡°He might talk like that, but he¡¯s got the most hyperactive tail of anyone I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±

    She leans in close to the door with no visible handle, summons a blank Class Card, and taps it against a metal rectangle. It beeps once, as if to confirm her tap, and the click of shifting metal inside follows immediately after. Clamber pushes the door open, steps though, and holds it for me.

    ¡°Sorry about all that.¡± She apologizes as the door clicks shut. ¡°We thought we were never going to get any more Squirmstone. After Well stopped showing up, it looked pretty bleak.¡±

    My heart skips a beat as we walk down an unassumingly beige hallway. The way she said ''well'' almost made it sound like a name. ¡°Who is Well?¡±

    Clamber nods as she taps her card against another rectangle of metal. ¡°Well Maryden. He¡¯s our old supplier.¡±

 Chapter 153: Three Words, Three Names

    Well Maryden. Marywell Den. Denmary Well. Three names. Three words. All in places my skill told me would lead us to the quest. Even if I was the dumbest person on this planet, I¡¯d be able to recognize this pattern. I hold my tongue as Clamber leads me into a lavish half break room half workshop, beelines for a couch without the back cushions, and sits down.

    She pats the cushion next to her. ¡°Come sit down! Do you have some squirmstone here right now? Can I see it?¡±

    I walk to the couch and summon half a pound of plastic, which I place on a table in front of the couch. Clamber¡¯s eyes go wide with disbelief, and her tail wags against the floor as she leans in and pulls on her gloves. While she¡¯s busy prodding at the mass with oohs and aahs, I take a seat next to her and almost fall back trying to relax into a cushion that isn¡¯t there.

    ¡°Mrk.¡± I grunt and catch myself before I fall. ¡°Is this couch¡­ custom made?¡±

    Clamber shrugs. ¡°It¡¯s been here since before I was born, so maybe? Sitting on regular chairs and things is kind of hard with a tail, you know.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Hadn¡¯t even thought about that before.¡± I muse as I think back to the chairs at Whitestone Porch. They definitely had space for Clutter¡¯s tail to fit through. ¡°You¡¯d think they¡¯d make chairs with holes the standard when a chunk of your population has tails.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d think so, but most people don¡¯t. I¡¯m already used to it, but daddy gets angry every time someone doesn¡¯t have anywhere for us to sit. Yeep!¡± Clamber flinches back as the plastic tries to take hold of her finger. Her glove stays stuck in it. ¡°Ooh, this is really fresh. How many colours do you have?¡±

    ¡°A lot.¡± I chuckle. ¡°But before I bring them out, can you tell me what happened to Well? I¡¯m looking for a quest that¡¯s related to all this plastic stuff, and he might be able to help me find it.¡±

    Or he might be the clue I¡¯m looking for. But Clamber doesn¡¯t have to know that just yet.

    ¡°Wellll¡­ I don¡¯t really know. Like I said before, he just disappeared; Stonestep Solutions probably knows more than we do.¡± She says as she peels off her other glove and coaxes the trapped one from the plastic. ¡°But you don¡¯t seem like the kind of person who¡¯d work with them. Um¡­ ask me some more specific questions. Maybe I¡¯ll have better answers for you that way.¡±

    I nod. ¡°Alright. What did he look like?¡±

    Clamber spreads her arms wide, then bends to the side. ¡°Really fat and really tall. But his footsteps didn¡¯t feel like they belonged to him, and daddy said he was really magical. He had a mask like yours, but I don¡¯t think it worked right, because I can remember that he was fat and tall.¡±

    Something the system made had an anonymity mask? I guess that shouldn¡¯t be a surprise, but for some reason, it is. Especially if the anonymity mask only slightly¡­ worked. Huh. Maybe that¡¯s a hint, not a screw-up.

    ¡°Clamber, what can you not remember about how he looked, talked, or anything else?¡± I ask and hold up a hand to stop the follow-up question brewing on Clamber¡¯s face. ¡°Try to think about what the mask actually hid from you, not the things it let through. Does anything stand out?¡±

    She nods right away, much to my surprise. ¡°Daddy thought of that, too. The only things I couldn¡¯t remember about him were his face, what his exposed skin looked like, and what his voice sounded like. I do remember what he said, though, just not how he actually spoke those words.¡±

    So the mask didn¡¯t want them to see what species Well is, what his face looked like, or what his voice sounded like. That could be to mask what species the system used to create Well, or¡­ to hide if Well was even alive at all. I¡¯ve already seen robots and magical duplicates, so it¡¯d make sense for the system to use that instead of trying to create a brand new person just for this quest.

    Actually, no; that¡¯s making two huge assumptions I really shouldn¡¯t make. Well could just be someone the system ¡®hired¡¯ to do something for it. Or all this could be happening without the system in direct control, and Well was just someone like Clutter who was looking for the quest. And¡­ maybe he used Well Maryden as an alias to try and get others like him to seek him out?

    I frown and lean my elbows into my thighs. Everything hinges on one simple fact¨Cwas Well part of the quest, or was he looking for it himself? Stonestep Solutions obviously came up with their own answer, and I would¡¯t be surprised at all if Well was being held in some dark basement somewhere to keep people like me from getting access to the quest. That is, if Well is even alive anymore¨Cor in the first place.

    A smaller hand gently pats my knee, and I turn to be greeted by a sympathetic expression. ¡°Daddy was really bothered by all this, too. I don¡¯t know what else I can tell you to help, but if you can get whatever is at the end of that quest before Stonestep Solutions does, we¡¯ll do everything I can to help.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°Young lady, you do not have the authority to speak for the store.¡± Scooch says, making himself known. I¡¯m pretty sure I didn¡¯t hear the scanner, and he just kind of appeared in my awareness. Must be a spell. ¡°I, however, do. Whoever you are, miss, I formally make a request for you to find and prevent Stonestep Solutions from attaining the prize for the quest tied to the Squirmstone.¡±

    The soft beep of a notification coincides with a small, holographic window appearing over my vision.

    Minor Quest: A Jeweler¡¯s Request.

    Due to the disappearance of ¡®the proprietor¡¯, you have been requested to complete a quest that has not yet started.

    If you complete said quest, and prevent another party from claiming any rewards, this quest completes.

    Rewards are negotiable, and will be partially given in advance, regardless of success.

    I read through the system¡¯s popup with a frown. ¡°Clamber¡¯s dad is missing?¡±

    Scooch makes a noise in his throat. ¡°Yes. After Well disappeared, the proprietor went looking for him, fearing the worst. Now the young lady and myself fear the worst, and I cannot leave her side to go to his aid.¡±

    ¡°Well, I know someone who might be willing to¨C¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Scooch gently but insistently cuts me off. ¡°It is not a matter of safety, but of contract. I physically cannot leave the young lady, regardless of the circumstances, without the proprietor signing off on it firsthand.¡±

    A contract. I guess that makes sense. ¡°I guess since there¡¯s no penalties for failing, there¡¯s no reason not to accept it.¡±

    ¡°Thanks!¡± Clamber hugs me tightly. ¡°Daddy¡¯s strong enough that he won¡¯t die, but if he¡¯s gone for too long, we might lose other things before he gets back. Can I use this squirmstone to make you some jewelry?¡±

    I wave her on. ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    Her tongue sticks slightly out of her mouth as she nods, scoops up the plastic, and hurries to the other side of the room. She grabs a curtain that¡¯s bunched up on the end of a rail, pulls it across to section the room in two, and disappears completely. No sound, no sensations, and no light seeps through the curtain.

    ¡°More magic absorbing stuff?¡± I wonder aloud.

    Scooch nods without sitting down. ¡°To keep those on this side of the curtain safe from the activities on the other side. Clamber may be young, but she is very skilled¨Csecond only to the proprietor himself, and even that is arguable.¡±

    I look up at him. ¡°So you¡¯re just a bodyguard, then?¡±

    ¡°Not quite, no.¡± He says with a smile. ¡°I am a very skilled appraiser, and where the young lady lies on the creative side, I stand on the scientific side. Now, any questions that you could not ask her¨Cor that you simply did not have the time to get to¨Cyou can ask me.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± I lace my fingers together in my lap. ¡°Do you actually think her dad is fine?¡±

    His shoulders slump ever so slightly. ¡°That is complicated. My contract still stands, so he is alive, but ¡®alive¡¯ and ¡®fine¡¯ are not synonyms.¡±

    ¡°I get it. Next question; the guy¡¯s name was Well Maryden. Did you ever think he was part of a quest before Stonestep Solutions stepped in?¡±

    ¡°We had our thoughts, but nowhere near what it turned out to be. Sorry to disappoint you, but that is all I have.¡± He apologizes. ¡°Well Maryden was an enigma we tolerated because he was neither kind nor hateful, and he had a product we were interested in. Our relationship was purely business.¡±

    Purely business. Damn, that makes things much harder for me. But there has to be something here that¡¯s equal to the bauble or the stone slab, or else my skill wouldn¡¯t have pointed me here.

    ¡°When Well left¡­ did he leave anything behind?¡±

    Scooch tilts his head to the side, and I know I need to clarify.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already gone to two other places that gave me hints about the quest. One was for someone¡¯s grave, the other points to a well, and now here there¡¯s a guy with a name that fits the conventions of both.¡± I explain, and after a moment¡¯s hesitation, bring out the bauble for Scooch to see. ¡°We don¡¯t know where this is pointing to, and we don¡¯t have time to follow it across the continent. Did he leave behind anything like this?¡±

    Scooch leans in close and squints at the bauble. ¡°Not that I know of, no. The last thing he gave us was a batch of squirmstone, and that batch was no different than any other batch we bought. The only strange thing was his disappearance.¡±

    ¡°Shit. Well Maryden, Marywell Den, Denmary Well. They all have to fit in some larger puzzle I¡¯m not seeing. You have any ideas, Scooch?¡±

    He frowns. ¡°Denmary Well¡­ you know, I grew up in a very small village called Denmary. I don¡¯t remember us having a well of our own, but it¡¯s possible that we did at one point¨Cor that they have dug one since I left.¡±

    ¡°I figured it existed, but it¡¯s nice to know there¡¯s something solid-ish to prove that. Problem is that we have no idea what to look for if we go there, or if it¡¯s even telling us to go there in the first place.¡± I sigh and lean to the side. ¡°It could be a weird riddle, or a trail that leads to a trail, or even a red herring the system put in place to make sure too many people don¡¯t find the quest.¡±

    ¡°It could also be the correct path.¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Sure. If I had any way to tell what was the right way to go, or more time to check out all the possibilities, then I¡¯d be on my way to that town tomorrow morning. But we¡¯ve got less than two days to get this quest up and running. So unless you¡¯ve got rock solid proof of anything, we¡¯re just going to have to keep looking.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but where would you look? Stonestep Solutions may have answers for you, but they will not give you them. What else can you do?¡±

    If I knew that, I wouldn¡¯t be sitting here right now. But since I don¡¯t, I need to dig deep into the hints I already have and dredge up something new.

 Chapter 154: Another Pair of Eyes

    With a wave of my hand to get Scooch to step back, I place the bauble and the slab on the table. All of the spears are still locked in place, and the wreath around the sphere still points off in a random direction. Just in case, I put the bauble in the middle of the slab and carefully lean back from it. Nothing happens, which is what I expected, but now everything¡¯s out in the open.

    I plant my elbows on my knees and lean down to rest my chin on my fists. Even if I don¡¯t have a new trinket to add to the pile, I have a new name. When I combine that with all the other facts I know, something has to pop out.

    ¡°Fifty six and three sixteenths of a pound. The way we had to phase in the monster. How the plastic in the graveyard felt like it was on autopilot, and the stuff in the monster somehow felt both alive and dead.¡± I murmur in thought. ¡°Then there¡¯s the three words; Mary, Well, and Den. There¡¯s only so many combos they can make, and since we haven¡¯t seen more than those three, they have to be the only important ones.¡±

    Scooch watches silently as Pearl hums in thought. ¡°There¡¯s also the fact that all the combinations of words have been one word alone and two words together. If we hadn¡¯t come here, I would¡¯ve thought it had to be in the order ¡®two, then one¡¯, but Well proves that wrong.¡±

    I nod in agreement. With that logic, there¡¯s twelve total possibilities for word combinations, and we¡¯ve found exactly half of them. Denmary Well, Maryden Well, Well Denmary, Well Maryden, Wellden Mary, Denwell Mary, Mary Denwell, Mary Wellden, Wellmary Den, Marywell Den, Den Wellmary, and Den Marywell. If there¡¯s exactly one clue that leads to each of these names¡­ then is this one used up because Stonestep Solutions got here first?

    ¡°Haah.¡± I sigh. ¡°Just going around in logic circles at this point. The two things don¡¯t do anything when they¡¯re together, unless I¡¯m missing something. How about you? You see anything?¡±

    Scooch tilts his head to the side and points up at himself. I nod in confirmation, and as a smile creeps across his face, he kneels down on the other side of the table and leans in extremely close to the stone things. With his nose almost touching the wreath, his eyes darting around the edges and lingering on the writing, and his breath shaking the spears in their indents, he¡¯s about as focused as I can imagine anyone being.

    But he doesn¡¯t look like he¡¯s finding anything. Observing, sure, but not finding anything out of the ordinary. I shift a little closer so I can follow where his eyes are looking. Right now, he¡¯s focused on the words ¡®Denmary Well¡¯ carved into the slab. Then his eyes dart to the words on the wreath, linger there for a second, and then dart right back to the others.

    ¡°Did you find something?¡±

    He purses his lips. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I have, but these carvings are exactly the same save for the capital letters. And they¡¯re in English, which is quite strange¨Calmost all quest-related items are written in the common tongue. Whatever carved these letters was almost definitely automated.¡±

    I lean in further. ¡°How can you tell?¡±

    ¡°Before I make any claims, let me confirm something.¡± He says as he closes one eye and moves his open one so close to the stone that I wince. ¡°Hmm¡­ yes¡­ it¡¯s undoubtedly true. The depths of each of these carvings and their widths are perfectly equal¨Csomething that a living hand would never do.¡±

    ¡°Not ¡®could never¡¯, but ¡®would never¡¯?¡±

    Scooch pulls back and opens his other eye. ¡°Yes. For a truly skilled craftsman, machine-like perfection is boring. There is no flair in this writing, no inconsistency, and not a trace of magic. Someone used a machine to make this, or they made the stone itself with the words already carved into it.¡±

    I¡¯d never even thought of that possibility. ¡°What about the spears?¡± I tap one for emphasis. ¡°Are they all perfectly even too?¡±

    He nods.

    ¡°Damn. I have no idea what that means, but it¡¯s something.¡± I mumble and fiddle with one of the spears. ¡°Can you tell if they have any function at all, or if they¡¯re¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ leftover parts? Maybe you¡¯d use them in making something?¡±

    Silence greets my question for a good long while as Scooch raises a hand to his mouth. He mumbles to himself as he thinks, which lets me know that there¡¯s not something obvious I¡¯m missing¨Cor else he wouldn¡¯t have to think so long on it. I trail my finger to the edge of the slab and absentmindedly rotate it to try and align ¡®Marywell Den¡¯ with ¡®Denmary Well¡¯ while I¡¯m waiting.

    It works. Nothing happens when the two words align. I grimace down at the slab and move my hand away, no closer to understanding what the hell it¡¯s supposed to be used for.

    ¡°The spears don¡¯t fit perfectly into the slots.¡± Scooch eventually says. ¡°Someone hollowed out the slots, then crafted all those spears in perfect unison to fill them. So I would say they serve some purpose, but I have no idea what that purpose may be.¡±If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Hmm. Pretend this is a¡­ game board, or a map, or something. Can you think of anything those spears would be used for?¡±

    Scooch nods. ¡°If it were a game board, I would assume they are either the game pieces or a way to tally points. And if it were a map, I would assume they are markers so you can remember where a point of interest is or to designate your destination.¡±

    That¡¯s about what I¡¯d think, too. But if this is a map, or even a game, then it¡¯s missing way too much. No markings at all, save for the words, and nowhere to actually put the spears where they wouldn¡¯t just roll away. I grab one out of its slot, spin it around in my fingers, then lean back as I bring it close to my face.

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s possible we¡¯re missing another piece here?¡± I muse as I poke the spear against my fingertips. It hurts a little, but it¡¯s also strangely satisfying. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just a coincidence that the spears fit in the slots, and there¡¯s another slab that sits on top of the one I already have. And that slab has places for the spears to go.¡±

    Scooch hums. ¡°I¡¯m not convinced you¡¯re missing anything. Do you have any proof at all that you need more than one of these things to find the quest? Because if you don¡¯t, then you should proceed with the assumption that just one of them would be enough to eventually find said quest.¡±

    ¡°¡®Eventually¡¯ being the key word there.¡± I say.

    ¡°Yes. On their own, they should be able to lead you to where you want. Putting them together should only make the process faster and easier, not possible.¡± Scooch raises an eyebrow, then turns to face the curtain. ¡°Clamber, can you still hear us? I have a question for you.¡±

    A small whoosh of magic, and my awareness feels Clamber again on the other side of that curtain. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m here. I heard everything, too, so ask away.¡±

    Scooch holds one arm over his stomach, then raises his hand to his face. He rests one finger below his bottom lip, like he¡¯s one second away from chewing on it, and almost barks. Clamber tilts her head to the side, forehead furrowing in uncertainty.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think we¡¯re trusting them too quickly.¡± She says defensively. ¡°Don¡¯t try to pin all this on me, either¨Cyou¡¯re the one that got over excited and told me to bring her back here.¡±

    I crack a small smile. ¡°I should be the one worrying about trusting you two, not the other way around. Since I¡¯m the one that¡¯s risking Stonestep Solutions¡¯ ire.¡±

    Clamber points at me through the curtain. ¡°They¡¯re right. Even if they have a mask, Stonestep Solutions is dangerous. Just because they smell and feel like a friend, it doesn¡¯t mean they can feel the same thing from us.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ feel like a friend? What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°It means you are¡­ different.¡± Scooch says slowly. ¡°You feel like a Paindne, just like us, but¡­ ancient. Reliable. Powerful in a way that¡¯s comforting, not terrifying.¡±

    ¡°Just like the Great Ancestor from the stories!¡± Clamber adds eagerly. ¡°But¡­ real, obviously.¡±

    At the words ¡®great ancestor¡¯, my mind instantly turns to Illumisia. ¡°Who¡¯s this ¡®great ancestor¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s just a story daddy used to tell me when I was little. Apparently, a long time ago, our species split in two; the Paindne, like us, and the Painted Danes, the feral, animalistic ones. The system liked us, so we got Classes, and it hated the Painted Danes, so it made them enemies that you can kill for Worth.¡± Clamber says easily. ¡°The Great Ancestor is the common link between the two, from right before they split¨Cso they apparently have all the good things about both the species that came after them.¡±

    I snort in amusement; the idea of Illumisia ever walking on two legs like a Paindne just seems way too foreign a concept. But it seems like the story¡¯s about her. I wait for Clamber to continue, but instead, she just starts talking with Scooch about the jewelry she¡¯s making.

    ¡°Uh, isn¡¯t there more to the story?¡± I cut in as they¡¯re deciding if Clamber should make a necklace or an armband. ¡°Does the Great Ancestor have a name? Why do you think I smell like she does if you have no idea what she¡¯d even smell like?¡±

    Clamber pauses. ¡°That¡¯s a good question. Daddy never said they had a name, or even what gender they were. But for some reason, you just feel like the feeling I got when he told me all the stories; comfortable, safe, and like¡­ home.¡±

    ¡°All the stories?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes, all the stories. Scooch, there should be one¨C¡±

    Scooch holds up a well-loved paperback book. ¡°I already have it, young lady. And I would recommend an arm band¨Ca necklace would be too loose for our customer here.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was thinking, too. Can you get the measurements for their arm?¡±

    ¡°Of course, young lady.¡±

    ¡°Thanks! Oh, um, let me show you the work in progress.¡± Clamber stands, throws the curtain back, and walks right back to her spot on the couch with¡­ something in her hands. ¡°It¡¯s all fired now, but I want to get your opinion on the shape. Usually we do ovals, triangles, squares, and circles, but since this stuff is so malleable I can make pretty much any shape you like.¡±

    She sits down next to me as Scooch places the book down next to the slab. I can just barely make out an embossed title a third of the way down the cover: ¡®Shoremoon Detective Club: the case of the Skittish Scout¡¯. I stare at it for a few seconds trying to piece together just how that¡¯s supposed to be a book about Illumisia, but the more I try to come up with an explanation, the more confused I get.

    But I¡¯m definitely bringing this up the second we meet back up. She¡¯ll either love this or hate it¨Cand either option is entertaining as hell for me.

    Clamber sets the work-in-progress down on the slab. Before she can get a word out, the material lets out a low, gong-like ring. Our collective attention snaps to the slab, where the spears begin to vibrate in their slots and the very words carved into it seem to¡­ swim across the stone. Positioning themselves in a slightly different place than before.

    And at the perfect center of everything is Clamber¡¯s work in progress.

 Chapter 155: Plastic Begets Plastic

    Silence fills the room as we all stare down at the slab. Clamber¡¯s and Scooch¡¯s seem to be confused, almost like they don¡¯t understand what¡¯s going on, but mine is a little different. It stems from the deep, shameful fact that I¡¯m a goddamn idiot for not thinking of this sooner.

    Of course the plastic would do something. It already did something both other times I saw it touch the stone¨CI just didn¡¯t register it. I reach down and push Clamber¡¯s work in progress around the slab, watching as the words on it slide around with the piece of jewelry.

    ¡°It¡¯s like a¡­ location marker.¡± I mutter to myself. ¡°I move it around, and the words stay the same distance away from it no matter where I put it. So now what happens if I actually connect the sphere to this?¡±

    I summon a small glob of plastic from my inventory, stick it to the bottom of the sphere, and plant it on the slab. A small puff of magic connects the two, like a spark between an outlet and a plug. The wreath around the sphere shudders, twitches, and starts to turn to face in a direction that almost lines up the two pairs of words. But not quite perfectly.

    ¡°It¡¯s like a very simple map.¡± Scooch notes with obvious interest. ¡°If we assume that touching the plastic to the slab marks our current location, then we should be able to infer exactly where those words are leading you to.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s if it¡¯s actually working like that. There¡¯s always the chance the plastic is marking something else.¡± I lean over and gesture at the door. ¡°Clamber, can you go get one of the rings? I want to test something.¡±

    She nods eagerly, jumps up without a word, and almost sprints out of the room. As the door swings shut behind her, Scooch leans in close and gently prods at the plastic connecting the wreathe to the slab.

    ¡°Is this marking another location, or does it serve a different purpose because it connects the sphere to the slab?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°No idea; I found out about this at the exact same time you did. But there was a little spark of magic when the two touched, so¡­ I¡¯m betting it did something different.¡±

    He strokes his chin as he nods. ¡°What about the different states of the squirmstone? Does the fresh, unfired material have different effects from the hardened stone?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s see.¡±

    I pull out some more plastic and slap it down on the slab. There¡¯s no spark, or shift, but¡­ the colours seem to change a little. The bit I threw down as mostly green, with a little bit of red at the edge. Before my eyes, blues and purples join them, spreading over the plastic like a rising tide. And as the colour flows, so does the plastic, thinning and spreading out to less than an eighth of an inch thick to cover more ground.

    There¡¯s a certain¡­ hypnotic effect to watching the plastic spread and change. I hover my hand over the stuff until there¡¯s a good four-inch wide stain of the stuff pressed close to the slab and the colours finally seem to settle. Mostly, it just looks like a mess of a different colour. But if I lean in closer, and squint really hard, I can almost see something else.

    ¡°Hrm. Maybe we just don¡¯t have enough?¡± I wonder aloud and summon more plastic. ¡°This should be enough.¡±

    I plop a much larger chunk down on the slab. The colours shift and whirl in a maelstrom of movement as the plastic thins out, covering all of the slab in a thin layer of the stuff. Though it looks like I put more than a little too much on, since it starts to climb up the sphere and cover that, too. Not the wreath around it for some reason; just the sphere.

    Less than thirty seconds pass. Before my very eyes, the plastic transforms into a coloured map; one of a landscape that¡¯s mostly alien to me. A landscape that, if it¡¯s actually real, is infinitely larger than I thought. Because the tiny stone-coloured blip under Clamber¡¯s work in progress, which I assume is Palastia, is barely even the size of a pea.

    ¡°It¡¯s a map of this part of the continent.¡± Scooch says, confirming my suspicion. ¡°And look¨Cthe writing has taken on a new form.¡±

    He¡¯s right¨Cthe writing carved into the slab, even though it¡¯s been filled in with plastic, is one pure colour¨Cbrilliant ocean blue. It covers a part of the map that looks unbelievably dry, with a bunch of browns and yellows, and no blips large enough to look like a Palastia-sized town. Maybe it¡¯s not even inside of the ¡®tutorial¡¯ area.

    The door clicks, then slams open. ¡°I have the ring!¡± Clamber announces as she sprints over, then gasps at the sight of the map. ¡°Aw, you did a cool thing without me. Did you even need the ring at all?¡±

    I accept it from her with a laugh. ¡°We won¡¯t know until we put it down.¡±

    Carefully, I pull off her work in progress and hand it back to her. She accepts it much less carefully, her focus entirely on whatever the ring¡¯s going to do to the plastic-coated map. Not wanting to keep anyone waiting¨Cmyself included¨CI flip the ring so the plastic-gem is facing downward and press it into the plastic.

    A soft hiss and a plume of mist rise from the slab. I raise an eyebrow and push the ring through the plastic, but it just leaves a long smear through it that distorts the colours to a muddy brown. Clamber and Scooch both lean further in, but a pang in my gut tells me that something¡¯s off.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    I pull the ring away, and Clamber groans. ¡°Aw, why¡¯re you doing that? Something was happening!¡±

    One glance down at the ring proves her half right. As the plastic below squirms and regains its colour, the plastic on the ring shifts to show something else; a set of wriggly tendrils wrapped around a many-faceted centerpiece. I can¡¯t count them all, since it¡¯s a two-dimensional¡­ image¡­

    As I twist the ring a little, as if it¡¯d show me more of the shape, it actually does. The polyhedron turns and shifts as I move the ring, creating the illusion of a 3D object hidden in a 2D space. One side, two, three¡­ five¡­ ten¡­ fifteen¡­ eighteen sides. A shape made of eighteen hexagonal sides. Exactly like the one Clutter found.

    ¡°Damn it, I wanted an answer, not another mystery.¡± I mutter to myself as I hand the ring to a very curious looking Clamber. ¡°If that¡¯s supposed to be the solution to this lead, then what am I supposed to get from it? That rocks exactly like that one are always going to be filled with plastic?¡±

    Clamber frowns as she studies the ring. ¡°How do you know this is a rock?¡±

    ¡°Because I found all this stuff in a rock that looks exactly like that.¡±

    ¡°Even with the tendrils?¡±

    ¡°Even the¡­¡± I pause as a thought starts to form. ¡°Actually, no, not with the tendrils. Is that telling me to find one specific rock, or to make tendrils out of the plastic and wrap them around any rock that looks like that?¡±

    I press my hand to the bottom half of my mask, then freeze. Because I¡¯m still wearing my mask. Yet, somehow, I could perfectly see the shape inside of the ring, and I can tell exactly what colour the plastic is through my awareness alone. That has to be a sign that we¡¯re on the right track.

    ¡°Can you see the colours too?¡± I ask with a glance in the direction of Pearl¡¯s shell. ¡°Because they¡¯re really vibrant for me.¡±

    ¡°I can, yes.¡±

    ¡°So can I!¡±

    Pearl nods slowly. ¡°Yes. Through awareness alone, these things are coloured and multi-dimensional. I need to study this. Don¡¯t throw away these things when you¡¯re done with them.¡±

    ¡°Good to know.¡± I say, making a mental note to save these things if at all possible. ¡°So we¡¯ve got a map that has one specific location marked on it, a compass pointing in one specific direction, and a ring telling us to look for one specific kind of rock. If there¡¯s only one way to gain access to this quest, then all three of these things have to lead to the same end goal.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense to me.¡± Clamber agrees.

    Scooch hums and frowns. ¡°I agree with everything, but do not assume there¡¯s only one way to gain access to this quest. If there are this many avenues to it, then the system must want as many participants as physically possible. For all we know, this quest could even pull others in from across the world depending on how the system set it up.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s true, then it¡¯s good for me.¡± I summon a shield, wrap it around the slab, and send it to my inventory. ¡°Thanks for answering my questions, but I¡¯ve got to get moving. I¡¯ll do everything I can to help find Clamber¡¯s dad while I¡¯m out there.¡±

    ¡°Aww, you¡¯re leaving already? But¡­ we have to have more things you need to know about.¡± Clamber pouts and looks down at the ring in her hands. ¡°Scooch, is there anything else about Well that we didn¡¯t say yet?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°Nothing I can think of, young lady.¡±

    ¡°Neither can I.¡± She sighs. ¡°Dang it. Um¡­ can you stay for a little longer so I can get your measurements for this piece? If I work really hard, I should have it done by tomorrow morning. Is that still soon enough, or is it too late for you?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know. Maybe I¡¯ll be here, maybe I won¡¯t.¡± I say with a shrug, then snap my fingers. A relocation coin appears between them. ¡°But if you can promise me that you¡¯ll be done by tomorrow morning, I can use this coin to teleport whatever you¡¯re making to me.¡±

    She stares at the coin. It isn¡¯t a happy look. ¡°I¡­ um¡­ sorry. We don¡¯t really do teleporting any more.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Do you have something that blocks teleportation in here?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ I¡­ um¡­ I don¡¯t really want to talk about it.¡± She says timidly. ¡°Is that okay?¡±

    Okay, looks like I accidentally hit a soft spot. I hold the coin up, then make a show of sending it away with a nod. ¡°No teleportation it is, then. I¡¯ll try to find my way back tomorrow morning, but if I can¡¯t be here myself, I¡¯ll send someone else to come get it for me.¡±

    Scooch walks over to Clamber and gently pulls her into a hug. ¡°That works just fine for us. Tell them to say ¡®I¡¯m here for the map stone¡¯ when they arrive, so we know they are the one you sent.¡±

    ¡°Map stone. Okay.¡± I stand and offer Clamber an apologetic smile that my mask hides. ¡°Sorry that whatever I said brought up some bad memories. And thanks again for all the help.¡±

    She sniffles, then looks at me with her face half buried in Scooch¡¯s arm. ¡°Please find daddy.¡±

    My smile curdles. ¡°I promise you we¡¯ll do everything we can to bring him back here.¡±

    With the promise clinging to my lips like strands of vomit, I turn away and make for the door. Clamber¡¯s quiet breaths hitch as I open it, and Scooch pulls her a little closer before she can start to cry. Knowing that her dad might not even be alive gnaws at me, and the thought that he might not be¡­ the same¡­ bothers me even more. If a Psychic got their hands on him¡­

    I shake my head; thinking about that won¡¯t do me any good. I need to regroup with Clutter and Illumisia, see if Dizzy has anything to say about anything we¡¯ve found, and make plans for what little time we have left. Throwing the quest for Clamber¡¯s father on top of the pile makes it wobble a little, but until it really topples over, I won¡¯t know how much shit I¡¯m in.

    The short walk through the hallway and the store barely leaves me time to think. I glance around at the cases, now all airtight and locked up, as I make my way to the door that leads outside. A lock clicks open when I get close, and I raise my hand to push on a section that I¡¯m pretty sure is metal.

    Before I can push, I¡¯m stopped by the sight of something on my finger. The ring. Clamber must¡¯ve slipped it on my hand when I wasn¡¯t looking. And goddamn it, if that doesn¡¯t make me feel worse.

    ¡°I need to stop getting attached to people so quickly.¡± I mutter to myself as I step into the street. With a flick, I summon my Class Card. ¡°Clutter, I¡¯m done. We¡¯ve got new leads to discuss.¡±

 Chapter 156: Another Shark-Wolf Ally

    The soft roar of a waterfall fountain to my back gives the smallest bit of anonymity as I explain everything I just learned to Clutter and Illumisia¡¯s duplicate. He enthusiastically nods along and asks a whole lot of questions, so it takes quite a while longer to tell than I¡¯d been planning on, but it means the question period afterwards lasts all of thirty seconds.

    ¡°A map, a ring with a picture of the rock we found, and whatever the sphere is doing right now.¡± Clutter motions at the sphere and wreath, which are slowly turning in my hand. ¡°I guess it makes sense that we¡¯d have to put plastic on them for them to actually work. So, does that mean the actual hint from the jewelry store was the stuff made from the plastic Well left behind? Was it really that different from the stuff we found?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m leaning towards right now, but there¡¯s always a chance this is something completely different and Stonestep Solutions has the real hint. We¡¯ll use the ring as a last ditch effort if the wreath-sphere and the map don¡¯t turn anything up.¡±

    ¡°You say the sphere and the map, yet there is a part of both of them that has done nothing yet.¡± Illumisia cuts in before Clutter can start talking. ¡°The spears on the edge of the map and the wreath surrounding the sphere. Furthermore, what is the sphere doing right now?¡±

    The sphere in question¨Cnow fully covered in a thin layer of plastic¨Cis one solid colour: icy blue. It even feels a little cooler to the touch compared to before. I couldn¡¯t get any plastic to stick to the wreath, though, so whatever it¡¯s supposed to do obviously doesn¡¯t gel with the stuff.

    ¡°Well, if I had to guess, I¡¯d say it¡¯s a proximity detector. Blue and cold means we¡¯re far away, and it¡¯ll get redder and warmer the closer we get.¡± I snap my fingers to send the sphere into my inventory. ¡°The map¡¯s not going to work perfectly until I can get Clamber¡¯s piece of jewelry tomorrow, so we¡¯ll just have to make sure it¡¯s accurate tonight. Clutter, I forgot to ask¨Care you doing any better now?¡±

    He squirms as I glance at him, and even though he¡¯s got on a happy expression, there¡¯s obvious discomfort there. I click my tongue and shake my head, not quite sure why I¡¯m getting so involved in the business of every Paindne I meet, and make a note to beat Dell¡¯s ass if she did anything to Clutter.

    Not that I need any more reasons to hate someone from the Preservation.

    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s keep moving.¡± I pat Clutter on the shoulder and offer him a smile. ¡°Think Dizzy has enough time to meet with us?¡±

    Clutter nods without hesitation. ¡°I¡¯ll send him a message saying we¡¯re on our way. But don¡¯t get your hopes up¨Che would''ve already sent me something if he had anything.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t really care¨Cbut he might be able to tell us something else we don¡¯t know before we start a mad dash tomorrow. So, where exactly are we going? His house or where he works?¡±

    ¡°Technically, it¡¯s both. But he isn¡¯t supposed to be living there, so don¡¯t say anything about it.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ strange. But I guess I can wait a few minutes to see what he means.

    <hr>

    A good half hour walk later, and we¡¯re standing right in front of a building that looks a hell of a lot like a single university building. Except, for some reason, it¡¯s right in the middle of an otherwise bustling outdoor market. I watch people go by with my awareness, completely unfazed by this intrusion on their shopping trip, and can¡¯t help the amusement from showing on my face.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t get permission to bulldoze this one?¡±

    Clutter furrows his brow. ¡°What¡¯re you talking about?¡±

    I wave off his concern. ¡°It¡¯s nothing¨Cjust talking to myself. Is Dizzy ready for us?¡±

    He tilts his head to the side as if deciding to let it drop or press on. Eventually his eyebrows return to normal and he slowly raises a hand to the set of double-doors. With a mighty downswing he smashes his knuckles into the stone, winces, and raises his other hand to knock much less violently.

    On the third knock, one of the doors swings inward. Behind it stands the third new Paindne I¡¯ve met today¨Cand by far the largest one I¡¯ve ever seen. His muscles are barely constrained by a tan button-up shirt, which has a bunch of old oil and dirt stains dotting it, and a gut that rivals a powerlifter that threatens to pop off a few buttons at any second. He towers over all of us, staring down at Clutter with wide expressive eyes that look like they haven¡¯t gotten a good night¡¯s sleep in over a month.

    ¡°Clutter!¡± Dizzy says in a perfectly average, unremarkable voice. Coming from that body, though, makes it seem a little strange. ¡°How¡¯s it going, my friend?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s going okay. Not super great, but it could be a lot worse. Or a lot better.¡± Clutter laughs awkwardly as Dizzy pulls him into a hug. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about it later. But right now, there¡¯s something else I might need your help with.¡±

    Dizzy pats Clutter on the back, careful to reign in his strength, and turns to me. ¡°You must be the woman who hired him. I¡¯m sorry to say I don¡¯t have anything concrete for you, but you¡¯re more than welcome to take a look at the data I¡¯ve gathered so far. Oh, but where are my manners¨Ccome in, come in!¡±

    He steps to the side to make room for us. I nod in thanks as I walk in, and he closes the door when Illumisia¡¯s double is halfway through it. It doesn¡¯t stop her at all, though she does huff in annoyance. Even though Dizzy can¡¯t see her.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Keep your shoes on, please. The usual cleaning crew hasn¡¯t come around for a few weeks, so I don¡¯t know how many little rock shards are waiting to stick into your footflesh.¡± Dizzy says seriously as he leads us into a very open room with stairwells and hallways spreading in every direction. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be something of a headquarters for people who just got their classes, but as you can see, business hasn¡¯t exactly been booming for a few years. It¡¯s just me and a few other people now, though the system still gives us funding like we¡¯re fully staffed.¡±

    He beelines for an open staircase leading to the second floor, turning back every now and again to make sure we¡¯re still following him. It gets considerably warmer as we get closer and closer to the immense skylights that make up most of the roof, and a slight tingle of magic worms its way into my skin.

    I brush it off and look over the building as we reach the top. ¡°So you¡¯re supposed to be a community center?¡±

    Dizzy thinks for a second, then nods. ¡°That¡¯s a perfect description of it. We used to get quests from the system to give out, too, but that stopped when people stopped coming here. My office is down here to the right; the left is the break room and slee¨CI mean, uh, more break rooms. Definitely not sleeping quarters, since those are against the rules.¡±

    ¡°Nice catch.¡± I chuckle as we walk past a glass wall, through which I can see a break room. And another open door at the end of that room with hammocks. ¡°Don¡¯t worry¨Cwe¡¯re not system snitches. So what¡¯d you do here before the crowd died out?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much exactly what I¡¯m doing now; monitoring the land for any changes that could lead to quests or that could be dangerous for Palastia.¡± He summons a Class Card and taps it against a door, which he holds open with one hand. ¡°It¡¯ll close the second I go in, so you two first.¡±

    I nod in thanks as I walk past him. The first bit of his ¡®office¡¯ is strangely clean, but there¡¯s¡­ rocks everywhere. On the tables, in boxes on shelves, inside of glass cases inlaid with magic, and a few particularly huge ones on pure white tarps on the floor. I take a wide berth around one that feels like it¡¯s constantly playing melodic harp music through a car¡¯s exhaust pipe and turn to Dizzy with a frown.

    ¡°How many different rocks do you have?¡±

    Clutter laughs. ¡°I don¡¯t think he even knows.¡±

    ¡°Hey. I know. They¡¯re all in a ledger, numbered almost perfectly. I have somewhere between eight-hundred thirty-one and eight-hundred and sixty-eight samples.¡± Dizzy says confidently, even though that wasn¡¯t something to say with confidence. ¡°Just because I¡¯ve misnumbered a few samples, it doesn¡¯t mean I haven¡¯t been counting them really closely. ¡­Pretty closely. ¡­Alright, so sometimes I get too excited and forget to write in a sample. But I¡¯m almost done re-counting them!¡±

    ¡°Oh, really?¡± Clutter grins and pats a green, egg-shaped rock with concentric circles of ash grey. ¡°You definitely didn¡¯t drop everything the moment you got that hexagonal chunk of quest-rock, right?¡±

    ¡°...So, you¡¯re here for the quest rock.¡± Dizzy blatantly changes the subject and looks away from Clutter. ¡°I haven¡¯t been able to name, date, or really do anything for it. But that¡¯s a clue in and of itself; since it isn¡¯t in any databases, and it doesn¡¯t have any obvious signs, we can assume that the stuff doesn¡¯t get affected by geological aging like other stones.¡±

    Dizzy walks right past the white rock, brushing his pants against it, and some of the sound rubs off on him like wet paint. He grimaces and leans down to wipe the¡­ sound off¡­ and opens another door that leads to a room packed to the brim with samples in their own climate-controlled cases. I raise an eyebrow at Clutter, who just smiles excitedly and bounds after Dizzy.

    I replay Clutter¡¯s slight needling of Dizzy over in my mind. It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve ever seen him be like this with anyone. ¡°So you¡¯ve known Dizzy for a while, then?¡±

    ¡°You can say that, yeah.¡± Clutter reaches back and grabs his tail to keep it from wagging against the cases. ¡°I think we¡¯ve been friends since¡­ um¡­ I can¡¯t remember ever not being friends with him. So probably a really, really long time. Do you remember, Dizzy?¡±

    Dizzy shakes his head. ¡°I¡¯d have to ask someone else.¡±

    Clutter nods in agreement. ¡°See? A really long time. Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°Oh, just curious.¡± I smirk and pat him on the shoulder. ¡°Dizzy, when you two found this boulder, was there anything around it? Or was it just a rock?¡±

    ¡°Something around it? More rock, and some water, I think.¡± Dizzy raises an eyebrow at Clutter as he opens another door out of the sample room. ¡°You found it first. Was there anything there before I saw it?¡±

    Clutter furrows his brow in thought. I can almost feel him trying to remember anything that¡¯d help out our search, but from how long he¡¯s taking, I can almost guarantee that the answer is going to be ¡®no¡¯. Just before we follow Dizzy into the other room, he shakes his head.

    ¡°I can¡¯t remember anything at all. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Nah, if you saw what I was looking for, you¡¯d definitely remember it. Don¡¯t sweat it.¡± I pat him on the back and offer him a smile. Dizzy¡¯s eyebrows at the sight of my teeth, but he doesn¡¯t seem bothered. ¡°The pattern in the ring shows one of the big rocks with a bunch of plastic vines wrapped around it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah, then definitely not.¡± Clutter says confidently. ¡°I would definitely remember something like that.¡±

    Dizzy sighs in relief and smacks a switch on the wall. Lights loudly flicker on, one by one, illuminating a huge room with dozens of work stations set with different samples. The equipment at each of them look well taken care of, yet along the walls there are dozens of dusty shelves full of the exact same equipment. It looks like someone set the room up exactly how they liked, and hasn¡¯t bothered moving any of the equipment in years.

    Which¡­ is probably exactly what this is, now that I think about it. Dizzy deftly dodges all the cords, overhanging rocks, and equipment set up on the floor as he makes his way to a larger machine at the other side of the room. Inside of which sits a massive hexagonal plate of rock, and right next to the machine, a container filled with plastic.

    ¡°Well, here it is.¡± He says proudly. ¡°My results so far are all here, and you¡¯re free to look them over as much as you want.¡±

    Clutter says a quick thanks, but a buzzing in my head draws my attention to the plate. I lick my lips for some reason, and before I know it, I¡¯m standing right before it. Only a thin pane of magically strengthened glass stands between me and it. Clamber¡¯s ring twitches and shivers on my finger, and I gently put my fingers on it to steady it.

    Before anyone can say anything, I unlock the glass case and summon both the map and the sphere. With hurrying care, I set the pair down on the hexagonal plate and slip my ring off to join them.

    I can¡¯t explain how, but something¡¯s going to happen. I just know it.

 Chapter 157: Starting to Come Together

    Soft hissing like a burger fresh on the grill seeps out from underneath the map. Stone from the hexagonal plate bubbles and burbles like boiling water all around it, falling away little by little until the map has a perfectly hexagonal moat around it. Molten stone splashes out on the furthest edges, rolling in on itself over and over again as it seems to cool and grow into tendrils of itself.

    All at once, they stand vertically like poles of bamboo. Dozens of them, each about eight inches tall and barely an inch around, seem to lock the map in a cage without a top. I tilt my head to the side in an almost unconscious motion, and I feel my Class Card vibrating somewhere in my mind.

    One of the tendrils creaks, snaps, and bends down¨Cbreaking into six segments of perfectly equal length that somehow stay up without being connected to itself. It lowers itself closer and closer to the map, descending until it¡¯s close enough to brush against the plastic covering the map itself.

    Something flashes. Something cracks. I blink and flinch back as a shard of stone smacks against my forehead, small enough that I wouldn¡¯t have noticed it if I wasn¡¯t watching it so clearly. But even with how close I¡¯m watching, I couldn¡¯t make out whatever just happened. Which just won¡¯t do¨Cthis is obviously important, and I refuse to miss anything else.

    I summon a shield between me and the stone, lean in just a little further, and focus everything I have on my awareness. More and more tendrils snap down¨Ceach in six perfect segments¨Cand snap towards the map with a loud sound and a little burst of stone. It almost looks like they¡¯re connecting to something. I frown and squint harder, begging my brain to register whatever¡¯s happening so quickly that even my awareness can¡¯t catch it.

    ¡°I got it.¡± Pearl says, and my awareness sharpens to an almost headache-inducing level. ¡°Don¡¯t think yourself into a coma.¡±

    All I can do is nod in thanks with Dizzy and Clutter watching me so closely. With Pearl-enhanced awareness, I wait patiently for the next tendril to slam down. It takes less than two seconds, but it feels like half a minute. Stone flakes off at exactly one-sixth of the way up the tendril, then one barely discernible moment of time later, another flake appears one-sixth further up than that. That continues until the six segments form, split apart completely, and somehow move like they¡¯re still one continuous unit.

    Barely a whisper of magic joins them together. It¡¯s so subtle and simple that I easily missed it the first few times, and it doesn¡¯t feel like it should be enough for what¡¯s happening. But it is, so I just have to accept that I¡¯m still not seeing something. The segmented tendril bends, approaches the map, and in the blink of an eye, brushes the plastic ever so slightly. A chip appears right next to it that whizzes at my face, which is blocked by my shield, but in that smallest moment, I see it.

    The tendril rebounds by barely a millimeter. The distance between the plastic and the stone shows for a nanosecond. And inside of that distance lies the smallest glimpse of a spear of stone. The exact same ones Clutter and I set in the map¡¯s border. For some reason, the stone hexagon underneath is connecting itself to the map, and it¡¯s using the spears to do so.

    I hum and lean back, brushing away Pearl¡¯s enhanced awareness as I glance at the other two things. The ring¡¯s doing absolutely nothing. And the sphere has, somehow, bled away all of its plastic into a multicolour puddle that it now sits upon. It feels like they¡¯re¡­ incomplete. Yet, somehow, the map is complete.

    ¡°That¡¯s weird.¡± I mutter to myself and pick up the ring, slipping it back onto my finger. ¡°I get why the ring didn¡¯t do anything, since we didn¡¯t actually find Well ourselves, but why not the wreath?¡±

    ¡°I bet it was the tree.¡± Clutter says accusingly, but there¡¯s a tinge of fear in it. ¡°The thing gave you the sphere and the wreath, right? You didn¡¯t pull them out of the grave yourself?¡±

    I click my tongue and nod. ¡°You¡¯re right. But what would it gain from screwing us over? Or¡­ did it even know it was screwing us over?¡±

    ¡°Um, can either of you fill me in here?¡± Dizzy cuts in while nervously glancing at the stuff going down in his assumedly expensive machine. ¡°The rock didn¡¯t do anything like that when I was studying it.¡±

    Clutter nudges Dizzy with his elbow. ¡°It¡¯s for the quest. Can¡¯t you tell by how nothing you¡¯re seeing makes sense? Isn¡¯t that exactly what you said a long time ago?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t throw my words back at me.¡± Dizzy grumbles. ¡°I worked by butt off trying to get anything out of that thing, and she just¡­ walks in and¡­ does whatever this is. Did you have any idea this was going to happen?¡±

    I can¡¯t help but laugh as I vigorously shake my head. ¡°Can¡¯t say I did. But now that we¡¯re here, we might as well watch and see what happens.¡±

    ¡°What else can we do?¡± Dizzy mutters, but he can¡¯t hide his tail¡¯s excited wagging. ¡°Can I turn the recording function on, at least? This might give me some really interesting data to look over.¡±

    ¡°Sure, go ahead. Just don¡¯t do anything that might stop whatever¡¯s happening.¡±

    Dizzy shoots me an utterly appalled look. ¡°I would never! This could be a huge discovery!¡±

    He hurries to a control panel on the side of the machine, taps his Class Card to it, and starts pressing on it. The glass door creaks shut, sealing the stone inside, and some simple magic starts to coat the inside of the glass like condensation on a can of cold cola. It doesn''t look like it¡¯s messing with the map¡¯s reaction, and the sphere-wreath still isn¡¯t doing anything, so it seems like we¡¯re good.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°These readings are¡­ oh my.¡± Dizzy breaths as his eyes widen. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen magic like this since¡­ um¡­ well, I guess I¡¯ve never seen it, but I¡¯ve read about it.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s that rare?¡±

    He nods vigorously as he taps away at the panel. ¡°Rare is an understatement. This magic is subtle, powerful, and ancient. It¡¯s like I¡¯m watching two tectonic plates push up against each other, except thousands of years are happening in seconds, and it¡¯s doing really weird things. I bet Nibble would want to see this.¡±

    That rips my attention away from the map. I can only think of one reason why Nib would want to see the data. ¡°Does it have something to do with Shellraiser tech?¡±

    A shiver works its way through Pearl at the mere mention, and she stands bolt upright as if pulled by fish hooks in her shoulders. Her gaze turns fiery and intense, yet with undertones of hope and worry fighting to show on her face. She watches Dizzy so intently that I almost feel uncomfortable for the guy, but he physically can¡¯t notice.

    Even so, he shivers just a little. ¡°It¡¯s giving me slightly similar readings to the glass used in Shellraiser machines. And I have absolutely no idea why. Maybe she¡¯ll have some reasoning that I¡¯m just not in the right field to know.¡±

    ¡°Shellraiser tech.¡± I mutter to myself, images of the poor mockeries I fought in the tunnels spinning through my mind. ¡°Why does the map¡¯s stone have similar markers to Shellraiser tech?¡±

    ¡°If I could tell you, I would. Sorry.¡±

    I wave Dizzy¡¯s apology away. ¡°Just talking to myself right now, no need to apologize. Does it mean that the stone was¡­ made the same way as the glass was? Or was it just made in the same place?¡±

    ¡°Either possibility is just as valid.¡± Pearl sneers. ¡°We really need to gain access to this quest now. Even more than before. It could give us some info on my quest.¡±

    True. I have no idea how the plastic is connected, if it even is at all, but the stone found inside of it definitely has a connection. It also explains why the ring didn¡¯t react at all¨Cit¡¯s just heated up plastic, not stone. I run my tongue against the backside of my teeth as anticipation fills me with renewed vigor; this quest is way more important than I thought. More interesting, too.

    ¡°Ooh, something else is happening.¡± Clutter whispers excitedly. ¡°Look.¡±

    ¡°Is it the sphere?¡± I ask as I turn to look.

    It definitely isn¡¯t the sphere. The plastic on the map, now with every tendril connecting it to the other piece of stone, has blended into a mishmash of colours with no discernible shape to them. It rolls and shifts completely at random, with wisps and sparks of magic zipping every which way as something happens in the exact center of it. Something that I can¡¯t see, but that I can feel in my awareness.

    ¡°Oh, no, did I do that?¡± Dizzy grimaces, his finger diving for the shutoff.

    ¡°No.¡± I state, loud and certain enough that he stops dead in his tracks. ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything. This is a continuation of what was happening and nothing more, so don¡¯t blame yourself. But I might need you to open the glass in a minute.¡±

    He breathes a sigh of relief. ¡°Thank goodness. Just tell me when you need to get in there.¡±

    One side of my mouth twitches into a smile. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯ll know when it happens. So just sit back and watch your reading until it¡¯s time.¡±

    Clutter leans in close, concern written on his face. ¡°How do you know what¡¯s going to happen?¡± He whispers, though not very quietly. ¡°Did you get a quest update?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°It¡¯s a little more complicated than that. Maybe I¡¯ll tell you the details someday, when they couldn¡¯t get me arrested¨Cor worse.¡±

    ¡°Mmh. Some people are jerks.¡± He nods in understanding and takes a step back. ¡°If this glass shatters, I¡¯m definitely going to pee myself in fear.¡±

    I wrinkle my nose and frown at him. ¡°Then you should back up further than that.¡±

    His eyes snap open wide. ¡°Is the glass actually going to break?¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know.¡± I shrug with a sigh. ¡°But if you can easily prevent yourself from wetting your pants, you should do it. Like, right now. Go stand onn the other sde of the room and watch from there.¡±

    ¡°Good idea.¡± He nods, and sprints off in the direction we came in from. My awareness feels him hunker down behind a desk, just his head from the eyes-up peeking out above it. I can¡¯t help but laugh at the image, and halfway through, I notice Dizzy staring at me.

    ¡°Did the readings change?¡±

    He slowly shakes his head. ¡°How long have you known Clutter¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°A few months, but this is only the¡­ third? I think it¡¯s the third day I¡¯ve seen him in person. Why?¡±

    Dizzy shrugs. ¡°No reason, really. You¡¯re just a lot more likeable than most other people we meet. Paindne aren¡¯t really¨C¡±

    I hold up a hand to stop him as the plastic starts to shift. He glances down at the stone and falls completely silent, a scientific focus overtaking him as he snaps down to stare at the readings. Quiet mumblings rise with his breaths, and his face rapidly shifts from confusion to excitement with a small amount of fear in between. Then he flicks a finger across the panel and the glass door unlocks with a click. I give him a nod of thanks and pull it open, leaning into the machine as a perfect rectangle of golden plastic pushes its way to the middle of the map.

    Before I can get there a lattice of plastic raises the rectangle up a foot higher, just above the bent tendrils, like a dais waiting for its sacrifice. Except my awareness screams at me that this isn¡¯t sacrificial¨Cit¡¯s a gift. I summon my Class Card and gently set it down on the golden plastic rectangle. Clawed tendrils of the stuff snap out from behind the rectangle, latch onto my card, and start to reverberate.

    Less than a second passes. The tips of the scrabbling tendrils turn jet black. In the blink of an eye the black squirms up the tendrils, taking over the gold wherever it goes. First it takes the tendrils, then then rectangle, and finally the lattice of hole-filled plastic that connects it to the map. But it doesn¡¯t stop there. All the plastic on top of the map dyes the colour of night, then even that spills over the edges of the map and wraps the stone in a blanket of glistening black.

    For the shortest of moments, color blossoms in the black. Speckles of brilliance that perfectly match the stuff filling my bite marks, and the same stuff that makes up Pearl. The map disappears. All the plastic squirms up the hole-filled lattice, hovering in midair as it too seems to funnel into my Class Card. And then, without fanfare, it¡¯s done. The map and plastic are gone. I grab my Class Card from where it floats and bring it close to my face.

    Function Assimilated: Map.

    Location Marked: Denmary Well.

 Chapter 158: The Roots

    ¡°Right, I didn¡¯t have one of those.¡± I note as I swipe through my Class Card to a brand new tab, which is suitably marked ¡®Map¡¯. ¡°Dizzy, your Class Card already has a map function, right?¡±

    He nods. ¡°I got it when I got my named Class. Didn¡¯t you have one?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Nope. Guess I do now, though. Is the reaction done?¡±

    ¡°Let me check.¡± He leans down and stares at the panel for a few seconds. ¡°It looks like it is. The sphere seems like it¡¯s made of the same stuff as the map is, but it isn¡¯t reacting the same way. Maybe it¡¯s incomplete?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my assumption, yeah.¡± I turn and wave Clutter over. ¡°It¡¯s safe to come back.¡±

    From behind the desk his eyes dart between me, Dizzy, and the machine. He slowly stands up, walks out from behind it, and makes his way back to us.

    ¡°How did the map disappear?¡± He asks as he looks over my shoulder. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s weird. Your map still looks like it¡¯s made of the plastic stuff. And it¡¯s got a personal location marker¨Cthat¡¯s usually super expensive.¡±

    ¡°It does? Can I see?¡± Dizzy steps away from the panel and stands behind my other shoulder. ¡°Wow, it does. How accurate is it? Most of them only tell you what city you¡¯re in, and they cost¡­ like¡­ thirty thousand Worth.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and look at my map. It definitely still looks like the slab of stone, except it¡¯s inside of my Class Card instead of physically in front of me. The words are still there, obvious as ever, and so is something that almost completely covers Palastia¡¯s stone-coloured stain. A simple black hexagon with what looks like vines wrapped around it.

    ¡°How can I tell how accurate it is?¡± I ask as I spread my fingers on the hologram in an attempt to zoom it in. It does, and the hexagon stays exactly the same size as the map becomes more detailed. ¡°Oh, nevermind. Looks like ¡®I¡¯ stay the same no matter how zoomed in or out the map is. Wait, why does a location marker cost thirty thousand Worth?¡±

    Dizzy scratches his chin while he stares intently at the map. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised how common it is to get teleported to a completely random place in the world. A location marker instantly tells you exactly where you are, which can save your life a hundred times over. I bought a cheap one after a quest put me on an island and told me to find a way off¨Cif I¡¯d had a marker, I could¡¯ve made much better decisions.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and I don¡¯t even have one yet.¡± Clutter chimes in. ¡°Ooh, can you mark things on it? That¡¯s another pretty expensive add-on.¡±

    ¡°How would I do that?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°Try tapping on it. Maybe something will pop up?¡±

    That¡¯s a very reasonable assumption. I zoom in a little further, the plastic stain that is Palastia getting even more detailed than before, until I can make out the exact building we¡¯re in. Clutter oohs and aahs in amazement at the detail, and Dizzy furiously mumbles to himself about how the stone map actually assimilated with my Class Card. A smile tugs at my lips as I press down hard on the building, and a sharp pang of information hits my brain.

    Place Marker?

    Now that¡¯s confirmation. I mentally say yes to the popup as I take away my finger, and a stone spear suddenly appears right through the plastic. Swirls of colour dance around it, and as I zoom back out, it stays exactly the same size. Sure, that means it kind of clips through my own location marker, but it gets the point across very clearly.

    ¡°So it does work.¡± Dizzy whispers. ¡°I wonder if anyone would¡¯ve been able to do that, or if only you could¡¯ve. Or¡­ Clutter, I guess, since he was there too. But he already had a map. Would that have stopped him from getting this one?¡±

    Clutter pats Dizzy on the back. ¡°It¡¯s too late to know now. So, are we leaving right away? Or do we wait until tomorrow to check this out?¡±

    I almost say ¡®today¡¯ immediately, but stop myself. There¡¯s a real chance this is going to lead us to actually getting the quest. And I made a promise to a little girl that I¡¯d see her again tomorrow. Not that I think the quest is going to instantly teleport us away, since the Horizonguard said it didn¡¯t start today, but¡­ well, better safe than sorry.

    Plus, there¡¯s still the mystery of the sphere. Maybe we need to go back to the graveyard before we do anything else. ¡­Oh, right, the tree. Clutter said Dizzy would tell me about it.

    ¡°Hey, Clutter, I¡¯m going to ask Dizzy about the tree. You might want to¨C¡±

    Before I can finish, Clutter turns and bolts for the door. He opens and slams it behind himself in one swift motion, leaving me to laugh and shake my head at his fear of the thing.

    ¡°Well, Dizzy, you heard me.¡± I turn to him and raise an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s the deal with Paindne and Gravekeeper Cottonwoods?¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    At the mere mention of the ghostly tree, Dizzy¡¯s eyes go wide and his shoulders slump with fear. ¡°Gravekeeper¡­ is that what you fought at the graveyard? How are you still alive?¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t fight it¨Cthe thing was just there. Hell, it barely ended up doing anything.¡± I sigh and cross my arms. ¡°Just gave us some directions, a little bit of sap and groundwater, and pulled the sphere out of the plastic mound after I killed it. Now I¡¯m worried that it¡¯s the reason the sphere didn¡¯t integrate with my Class Card like the map did.¡±

    He shudders and looks away. ¡°You¡¯re lucky you got one of the old ones. Most of those¡­ things¡­ don¡¯t react that way to Paindne, and especially not any of us that aren¡¯t¡­ well¡­ dead. Even then it barely lets us bury our dead in those graveyards before they start¡­ trynig things.¡±

    That sounds shitty. ¡°So why even bother burying your dead there in the first place? Just find somewhere else to do it.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t work that way. The second you bury someone¡­ one of them appears.¡± Dizzy whips around, as if a tree had somehow snuck up on him, then breaths a shaky breath. ¡°If you¡¯re too close to an already existing graveyard, the tree takes the body and puts it in the graveyard. And if you¡¯re not, you just made a brand new graveyard.¡±

    Hrm. What a weird quirk of the system. I can see that making it extremely hard to hide a body, or¡­ extremely easy, depending on how you go about it. Just bury it in the range of a tree and suddenly you don¡¯t have a problem any more. But if you can¡¯t get in range, the appearance of a ghostly tree would set off so many alarm bells.

    So why does that make them hate Paindne? ¡°Dizzy, why do the trees hate you?¡±

    ¡°Hate is way too strong a word. It¡¯s more like they¡­¡± He swallows hard. ¡°Like us way too much. So much so that they¡¯d be really, really happy if we were dead instead of alive, so we can be with them forever. It¡¯s why we never¨Cand I mean never¨Cgo into a graveyard alone; we¡¯ll get pulled down to the roots and stay there.¡±

    I blink in astonished surprise. ¡°The trees murder you?! That¡¯s¡­ a perfectly reasonable fear to have, then! Shit, I owe Clutter an apology.¡±

    ¡°No, they only kill us if we¡¯re completely alone¨Cso it¡¯s not that¡­ bad.¡± Dizzy winces, obviously unconvinced of his own words. ¡°Most people don¡¯t believe us, since they never see the trees as anything but loving caretakers, but¡­ um¡­ have you ever loved anything so much that you just wanted to crush it?¡±

    ¡­Can¡¯t honestly say I have. Sure, I might want to hug Pearl tight enough that she squishes because of how adorable she is, but¡­ oh. Alright, maybe I have. Unless he¡¯s making an innuendo, but from the serious look on his face, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s the case.

    ¡°Kind of, but I don¡¯t actually want to kill her.¡±

    Pearl¡¯s eyes widen, and she silently points at herself. I offer her an apologetic smile. She huffs and crosses her arms, her expression somewhere between disturbed and proud. Adorable. Which just proves my point.

    ¡°Well, the trees don¡¯t have those inhibitions.¡± Dizzy continues. ¡°So don¡¯t leave Clutter there alone if you need to go back. Otherwise, there haven¡¯t been any reports of those trees hurting anyone but Paindne if you¡¯re respectful to the graves.¡±

    ¡°So you don¡¯t think it messed with the sphere?¡±

    He purses his lips. ¡°I can¡¯t say yes or no to that. The thing seems complete to me, so maybe it just has a different activation criteria than the map does? Or it could be something completely different, and you won¡¯t know what it does until you follow it to its destination.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was both hoping for and afraid of.¡± I sigh and reach for the sphere. ¡°Thanks for your time, Dizzy. I¡¯ll be sure to come back after the quest and fill you in on everything.¡±

    Dizzy smiles, though he¡¯s obviously still shaken from talking about the trees. ¡°Clutter promised me the exact same thing. You two just make sure you¡¯re fine and healthy before you come running back to me, alright?¡±

    I wave back at him as I make my way to the door. ¡°Will do. If you have a miraculous breakthrough before tomorrow night, send Clutter a message.¡±

    ¡°I was already planning on it.¡± Dizzy pauses. ¡°The message, not the breakthrough. I can¡¯t plan those.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t think you could, big guy.¡± I open the door and look around for Clutter, who I find staring at a glass case filled with glittering yellow stones. ¡°See you when we see you, Dizzy!¡±

    ¡°Goodbye!¡± He calls as I close the door, whatever else he was planning to say cut off by the soundproofing. I walk up to Clutter and pat him on the shoulder, to which he turns and starts walking with me.

    ¡°Hey, sorry for getting on your ass about the whole graveyard thing.¡± I say seriously. ¡°I didn¡¯t know it was so serious for your people.¡±

    He laughs, but there¡¯s no mirth behind it. ¡°Yeah, well, I shouldn''t have taken the job in the first place. And I could¡¯ve just let you go in there alone after giving you a real warning. So¡­ it¡¯s still mostly my fault, and I have to get better about standing up for myself.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as he straightens his back. It didn¡¯t sound like he was just talking about the tree. Hopefully I¡¯m not included in the people he wants to stand up to, but I can definitely see him having some choice words for Illumisia. Speaking of¡­ is she done with that thing she ran off to do? Her duplicate disappeared at some point after coming in here, and the only reason I can think is if she¡¯s on her way back.

    Clutter gently taps me on the shoulder as we leave Dizzy¡¯s lab and enter the main building. I tilt my head in a silent question, and he takes a deep breath that feels like it''s meant to muster his courage.

    ¡°Can I please stay with all of you tonight?¡±

    ¡­That¡¯s his question? I was expecting more. ¡°Yeah, of course you can. Actually, I technically can¡¯t say that, since Miss S is the one letting us stay with her. So you can ask her when we go back, which is going to be right after we link up with Illumisia again.¡±

    His eyebrows rise at the unfamiliar name. ¡°Is Miss S another painted dane?¡±

    I laugh and shake my head. ¡°No, she is not. She¡¯s a very generous Ogean woman. C¡¯mon, let¡¯s go find Illumisia and then I¡¯ll introduce you. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll love you.¡±

 Chapter 159: One Night To Go

    Finding Illumisia turns out to be far easier than I expected. All I do is walk out of the building, look to my left, and watch as Clutter stumbles over a perfectly positioned knee-high painted dane. He yelps in surprise and flails his arms out to try to steady himself, jumps forward three steps, and falls forward as slowly as physically possible. It almost looks fake with how easy he rolls into a crouch, but from how he winces and shakes his wrists, I guess it¡¯s real.

    I raise an eyebrow at Illumisia. ¡°What¡¯d you do that for?¡±

    ¡°Amusement.¡± She answers without hesitation. ¡°Though if you want a justification; he is a scout. If he cannot see something as large as I am, then he will not be able to see much of anything at all.¡±

    ¡°Fair. I guess.¡± I sigh and scratch between her ears. ¡°So what¡¯s you run off for?¡±

    Illumisia grins and nudges my hand with her nose. She pushes something into my palm, then backs away with a self-satisfied expression. Whatever¡¯s making her that¡­ happy¡­ can¡¯t be good for me. I wrap my fingers around the square thing, feeling for anything familiar, but it¡¯s airtight. Whatever¡¯s magical about it is inside the thing.

    I raise it up so I can see, and¡­ ah, shit. The clear plastic square, perfectly divided into three sections, is filled with colorful pills. Ones that I¡¯d hoped I wouldn¡¯t have to deal with until this quest was over.

    ¡°You bitch.¡± I grumble as I send the box of pills to my inventory. ¡°You went to see Ursula without me.¡±

    ¡°What? Me?¡± Illumisia says with feigned shock. ¡°I would never, ever do something like that. Not to my wonderful friend-of-a-friend. Oh, and Ursula says ¡®hello¡¯.¡±

    ¡°I bet she does.¡±

    I walk over and pat Clutter on the back as I walk by. ¡°You feeling alright? Need a potion or some healing?¡±

    He stares intently down at his hands, then shakes his head. ¡°No, I think I¡¯m fine. My wrists hurt a little, though.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s normal for how you caught yourself. Did you hear what Illumisia said?¡±

    ¡°I did. And she¡¯s right. I¡¯m a scout; one that¡¯s not good at fighting at all. If people can easily sneak up on me, I¡¯ll just be dead weight for you on the quest. But, um, I don¡¯t think I can fix a weakness like that in less than a day.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t expect you to, but you do need to work on it. Especially if you missed something as big and obvious as her.¡± I pat the back of Illumisia¡¯s neck for emphasis. ¡°I can keep watch for myself, but if you¡¯re not going to help fight, I need to know you¡¯re not going to make my flights harder.¡±

    I turn to him with as serious a face as I can manage. ¡°Can I count on you for that, Clutter?¡±

    His back reflexively straightens, and he confidently nods. ¡°I¡¯ll do absolutely everything I can so that you won¡¯t even have to think about me. Even if it means staying invisible until my mana runs dry over and over again.¡±

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s all I can ask for.¡± I smile reassuringly as I speed up a little. ¡°Illumisia, do you think that assassin¡¯s still with Miss S?¡±

    She snorts. ¡°She should be. Or else I placed my trust in a very wrong place, and I do not enjoy being tricked.¡±

    A cold shudder traces down my spine. For both our and Miss S¡¯ sake, I hope that the assassin''s still alive.

    <hr>

    Clutter oohs and aahs as we walk through the misty gateway to Miss S¡¯ bathhouse in the sky. Someone else was manning the desk when we got there, but they just waved us through without bothering to check anything. I guess Illumisia and I are pretty damn recognizable, all things considered, so I shouldn''t have been surprised. But I¡¯d never seen another worker here before, so I kind of thought Miss S ran the place alone. Guess I was wrong.

    ¡°It¡¯s so weird.¡± Clutter murmurs as he runs his hands through the mist. ¡°Are we walking through clouds?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re closer to the truth than you think.¡± I chuckle. ¡°Oh, forgot to ask¨Cyou aren¡¯t scared of heights, right?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then welcome to someone else¡¯s property.¡±

    I step through the final barrier of mist and into the sky-high living space. Clutter follows shortly after, his jaw dropping as he takes in the sights. A smile crawls across my lips as he silently mouths words of disbelief, then snaps to me with wonder in his eyes and impatience in the rest of him.

    ¡°I¡¯d love to let you loose, but this isn¡¯t my place. We¡¯ll have to find Miss S first.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no need for that, sugar.¡± Miss S calls from across the way. She raises a glass of something sparkling, and someone across from her tries to make herself as small as possible. ¡°Let your little friend do all the exploring he wants. He does know what¡¯s too dangerous around here to touch, doesn¡¯t he?¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Clutter nods vigorously. ¡°I do. Can I look over the edge?¡±

    Miss S waves at the railing. ¡°Knock yourself out, sugar.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t!¡± Clutter happily responds, eagerly making his way to his destination. I watch him as I walk over to Miss S and her guest, who has the exact right body proportions to belong to our assassin. Complete with a hood and veil that completely obscures her face from view, and black fabric hiding the rest of her body.

    I motion at her as Miss S pours me a glass of whatever she¡¯s having. ¡°You let her keep the bodysuit?¡±

    ¡°No need to make a guest feel any more uncomfortable than she already is.¡± Miss S hands me the glass with a smile. ¡°Not when she could be dying very, very soon. So, my little black-clad mistake, why don¡¯t you tell this nice woman here everything?¡±

    The woman flinches and looks away. Miss S sighs and shakes her head.

    ¡°No, no, that just won¡¯t do. You¡¯re the one that tried to kill my guest here, so the least you can do is tell her everything you told me.¡± Miss S smiles again, but this time, it isn¡¯t friendly. ¡°Do you want me to say it for you? Because I don¡¯t need you alive if I¡¯m gonna be the one speaking.¡±

    Panic flares in the form of a sloshing drink and desperate hand-waving. The black-clad woman starts making strange movements with her hands, miming things that have no association to me as Miss S nods along with her venomous smile.

    ¡°See? Talking isn¡¯t so hard. But it looks like my guest can¡¯t understand your sign language, can you sugar?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°I can¡¯t even understand sign language from Earth. Would the system translate her movements if I did?¡±

    Miss S purses her lips. ¡°That¡¯s a very good question. You should learn sign language and report back if it works like a spoken language or a written one for system translation. Though since you can¡¯t understand your assailant, I suppose I¡¯ll have to translate. Directly.¡±

    The veiled woman nods vigorously in agreement, then turns ever so slightly to Miss S while also keeping her vision on me. Her fabrics must not be airtight, since I can kind of make out her face underneath the veil. But¡­ it''s weird. She doesn¡¯t seem to have eyes, or a nose, or a mouth, or¡­ any facial features, really. It reminds me a little of that shopkeep from when I first met Diane and Razi.

    ¡°Right now she¡¯s making excuses for why she attacked you.¡± Miss S says flatly. ¡°None of them are convincing, and if she wants me to keep translating, she will stop making them.¡±

    An audible gulp emerges from behind the veil. I don¡¯t know how, since there isn¡¯t a mouth to gasp from, but it gets the point through all the same. The woman balls her hands into fists planted on her knees, stares down at her feet, and shakes. I take a sip of the wine-like drink Miss S poured for me as I wait for her to ¡®talk¡¯.

    Eventually, she raises her hands, presses them to her chest, and starts to motion once more. Miss S looks like she¡¯s barely watching, but that doesn''t dissuade the woman.

    ¡°Her name is Shandi Jiren. She started working with Stonestep Solutions a year and a half ago to try and get a true Class, and about a week ago, she got her first real chance.¡± Miss S pauses as Shandi signs, then sighs. ¡°Like I said, I¡¯m not translating excuses. Now keep going.¡±

    Shandi flexes her fingers, then looks at me. As she signs, Miss S translates almost as quickly as the words leave her fingers.

    ¡°Her assignment was to kill whoever came to that spot at the moment you did. She doesn¡¯t know if it was supposed to be you, or if anyone would do, but she didn¡¯t question it at all. Since she was trying to get the assassin specialization of scout.¡± Miss S wrinkles her nose at the mere mention of it. ¡°Seeing as she doesn¡¯t have any morals or hangups to taking another life, she was excited for it. So she laid in wait for someone to come by and stay there¨Cwhich is exactly what you did.¡±

    With a nod, Shandi lowers her hands. I wait for her to continue, but¡­ apparently that¡¯s it.

    ¡°Wow. I hate you.¡± I say flatly. Shandi flinches and looks away. ¡°No, no, you don¡¯t get to look away from me. You were completely willing to end my life just to get the class you wanted, so now you have to look at me and realize that you failed.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t. I clench my teeth, annoyance pulling the corner of my mouth into a sneer; I was hoping she¡¯d have at least a little information for me. But it looks like she¡¯s just a willing pawn of Stonestep Solutions.

    ¡°Alright, since you don¡¯t want to look at me, you get to talk some more.¡± I lean in close and wrap my fingers around Shandi¡¯s forearm. That gets her to look at me. ¡°Did Stonestep Solutions ever bring someone named ¡®Well¡¯ through while you were there? Or anything related to a multicoloured, plastic-like substance?¡±

    Shandi turns and signs to Miss S. ¡°She says no to both. But if I may say something, I don¡¯t think she¡¯s going to be of any use to you. The poor thing wouldn¡¯t be able to tell a punch was coming until it broke her nose, that¡¯s how self-centered she is.¡±

    Do those two statements mean the same thing? Because they don¡¯t feel like they mean the same thing. ¡°You¡¯re saying she¡¯s useless? Even after she tried to kill me?¡±

    ¡°Mostly, yes.¡± Miss S confirms. ¡°I would like to ask that you let her stay here with me, though. There¡¯s something bothering me about her, and I¡¯ll need time to root around in that head of hers to find some proof to back up my instincts.¡±

    Shandi¡¯s shoulders slump in terror. She looks to me, as if I¡¯m going to spare a single ounce of pity for the asshole that tried to legally murder me as a career path. I jab a thumb in Shandi¡¯s direction and down the last of my drink, then place the glass on the table.

    ¡°Do whatever you want with her.¡±

    Miss S smiles politely. ¡°Thank you very much, sugar. I¡¯ll be sure to keep you in the know about anything our new guest spills that she was trying to keep a secret¨Ceither against her will or with

    it.¡±

    If that sentence was directed at anyone but the person who tried to kill me, I¡¯d feel bad for them.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got an early morning tomorrow, and some things I want to talk about over breakfast. Do you need help making it?¡±

    ¡°I do not, no. Just focus on resting up for whatever you need to do.¡± Miss S shoos me away with a grin. ¡°I¡¯ll try to keep the volume down so you can sleep. Just don¡¯t open your rooms in the middle of the night, alright, sugar?¡±

    With those ominous words hanging in the air, I leave Shandi and Miss S to their own devices. Whatever happens now isn¡¯t my problem.

 Chapter 160: Denmary

    After a nice night of worrying my ass off about the quest, the sun rises on a new day filled with more worrying. I wake up before anyone else, quietly creep out of my glass room, and find my way to the kitchen for something warm to drink. Miss S appears moments before I get a mug off the shelf, clicks her tongue at me, and gently shoos me away from the kitchen.

    ¡°Let me, sugar.¡± She says with a smile. ¡°You just focus on doing what you need to do.¡±

    I smile right back, but inside, I¡¯m twitching and muttering at all the worries I¡¯ve got bottled up. Taking a seat at a table to wait only makes it a little worse; the thumping of my leg against the ground vibrating the entire chair and table around me. Illumisia huffs and brushes up against my leg as she appears out of nowhere, then settles in on my right side so I can reach down and scratch her head.

    ¡°Morning.¡± Pearl yawns into my mind. ¡°Today¡¯s the big day. Are you worried?¡±

    A sarcastic smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. Pearl pauses, rubs the sleep from her eyes, and looks down at her feet. When she sees how much I¡¯m fidgeting, she giggles to herself.

    ¡°Nevermind, I can see the answer already.¡±

    I¡¯d be worried if she couldn¡¯t. Before I can make any other silent faces at Pearl, a mug of steaming hot purple-ish liquid clinks against the table and brushes my knuckles. Miss S pats a reassuring hand on my shoulder and offers me a comforting smile, then leans against the counter with a mug of the same stuff cradled in her hands.

    ¡°Now you probably don¡¯t want to hear it from me, sugar, but you¡¯re going to be fine even if you don''t find the quest.¡± She pauses to blow on her drink, then takes a sip without breaking eye contact. ¡°It¡¯s only Worth and some rewards; your life doesn¡¯t depend on it. No matter how it feels like it might.¡±

    I raise the mug to my lips without cooling it down and take a long drink. The boiling hot liquid drains down my throat like molten lead, burning and scraping in equal measures, but my body stops it from causing any real harm. Nothing like the healing backlash I had to endure in the middle of the night from that potion I drank in the graveyard.

    ¡°Hoo, that burns.¡± I cough, steam rising from my throat with every exhale. ¡°Just because I know you¡¯re right, doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t have my own reasons for being worried. Most of them boil down to the fact that I have no idea what¡¯s going to happen whether I get the quest or not.¡±

    Miss S nods sagely. ¡°So it¡¯s a worry of possibilities, not because you¡¯re scared for your life.¡±

    I snort and shake my head. ¡°I¡¯ve been in way worse positions than this. Hell, I might be in more danger if I don¡¯t get the quest than if I do thanks to those masked assholes I told you about last night.¡±

    ¡°Mm, yes, them. An unpleasant little gathering of people with just slightly too much power in their hands. Very similar to your Preservation trying to take over Palastia.¡± She sighs and shakes her head. ¡°Like all idiots, they¡¯ll keep biting until something bigger bites back. I just have to hope that they don¡¯t hurt too many people before they get their comeuppances.¡±

    ¡°The masked assholes or the Preservation.¡±

    ¡°Both, sugar.¡±

    ¡°Fair.¡±

    I take a much smaller sip of my drink as the sounds of someone else waking up fills the room. Shandi stumbles in clutching her head from all the drinks she had last night, and less than a minute later, Clutter joins the rest of us as peppy and bright as ever. He takes one look at Shandi, wrinkles his nose, then motions for me to get a move on.

    ¡°Gimme two minutes.¡± I say and raise my mug for emphasis. ¡°We¡¯ve got enough time for me to shake off the grogginess.¡±

    Shandi knocks her knuckles on the table, then signs at me.

    ¡°She wants to know why you''re not hung over like she is.¡± Miss S translates. ¡°Curiously she isn¡¯t asking me the same thing, considering I drank the two of you under the table last night.¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Biology, I guess. Remind me why you¡¯re still here?¡±

    ¡°I can do that, sugar.¡± Miss S cuts in before Shandi can start signing. ¡°She¡¯s our prisoner, and even if she¡¯s not worth much as a hostage, I¡¯ll find a good use for her. Something that¡¯ll help you just as much as me.¡±

    Whatever. As long as she isn¡¯t roaming the streets to try again, I don¡¯t give a shit. There¡¯s going to be far worse people after my head come sundown, anyway. I down the rest of my drink, say a quick thanks to Miss S for her continued hospitality, and follow Clutter out into the courtyard. He¡¯s already tingling with magic to make a starway, but before I take his hand, I pull out my Class Card and double-check the map.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°So tell me again where we¡¯re going to appear.¡± I pivot on my heel so both Clutter and I can see the map.

    He reaches around my shoulder and taps a spot about a fingertip¡¯s length from the end of the word. ¡°My closest exit is right here. It should still be a pretty long walk to Denmary Well, so I want to get moving as quickly as possible.¡±

    Illumisia yawns and nudges my leg. ¡°I will carry a coin ahead at speeds that will not draw unnecessary attention. As such, the walk is of no concern to us.¡±

    Clutter blinks, as if remembering that Illumisia exists and that I have teleportation coins at the same time. ¡°That makes it a lot easier. Actually, it makes it so you don¡¯t even have to come for the first leg of the trip; so you can go get the thing from Clamber instead! That works out great!¡±

    ¡°Sure does.¡± I agree as I hand Illumisia a relocation coin, then toss an empty one to Clutter. ¡°You two head on through the starway and shoot me a message when you¡¯re all ready. How long od you think it¡¯s going to take?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ close to thirty minutes for the walk, then however long it¡¯ll take Illumisia to get there.¡± Clutter turns to her and tilts his head to the side. ¡°What¡¯s the fastest you can run?¡±

    ¡°I am going to assume you meant to say ¡®run without alerting anyone.¡± Illumisia says sarcastically. ¡°Three hundred miles per hour should not set off any warning bells if anyone observes or senses me. If I push it, it will be closer to four hundred.¡±

    Clutter nods. ¡°Then it¡¯ll be around an hour from when we leave. Is that enough time for you?¡±

    ¡°All I¡¯m doing is picking up a delivery. Don¡¯t worry about me.¡±

    ¡°Okay; we won¡¯t.¡± Clutter grins and extends a hand for Illumisa. ¡°See you in an hour!¡±

    ¡°Yes, see you then.¡± Illumisia echoes as she gently bites down on Clutter¡¯s hand. Magic swirls around the pair as they dissolve into mist that sparkles with powder blue and stars of brilliant white. I watch it swirl for all of ten seconds before I make my way to the exit and walk without hesitation into the mists connecting us to the ground.

    <hr>

    An hour later, a message from Clutter flashes onto my Class Card. I glance down at the new metal band wrapped around my forearm, made of thin bluish-grey material inlaid with a bunch of plastic ¡®gemstones¡¯. Remembering the mixture of hope and sadness on Clamber¡¯s face as she handed it to me sends a pang of guilt into my stomach, and the silence that followed as Scooch comforted her hurt a little more. But hey, now I have two plastic markers on my map designating my location, so¡­ yay.

    I set my jaw and look up at the sky as I focus on the coin Illumisia has. Depending on how this goes, there¡¯s a chance this is the last I¡¯m going to see of Palastia for a while. The quest¡¯s still a complete mystery. It could send me to another underground labyrinth of tunnels, or it could just send me back to Palastia with a set of cryptic objectives. Well, I guess I¡¯ll never know until I¡¯m staring at the system prompt.

    Relocation flares. Illumisia grunts as I appear on her back, then shakes me off before she can even take a breath. ¡°Oop, sorry. Clutter¨C¡±

    ¡°I am aware of how long I have been running for.¡± She says. ¡°If I am correct, our destination is three miles away. Clutter would only slow us down for now¨Csend him a message telling him to wait a handful of minutes.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± I summon my Class Card and type out a quick message. ¡°So, what¡¯s the real reason you haven¡¯t gotten there yet?¡±

    Illumisa cocks an eyebrow. ¡°What makes you think I was not simply en-route to our destination when you appeared?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know; maybe the fact that you were standing still when I appeared.¡± I shrug with a smile and start slowly walking into what looks like a simple village¨Cwooden houses, stone roads, and blatantly abandoned. ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡±

    She laughs dryly. ¡°Many, many things; though the vast majority have no bearing on our current situation. I have been here for close to ten minutes already, and a preliminary scan of the area showed no lifesigns in the slightest. Yet that is not the strangest part; there is an oddity to this place that I want your input on before I make a rash assumption.¡±

    ¡°You want my opinion?¡± I raise an eyebrow in surprise. ¡°What the hell could make you want that?¡±

    ¡°Do not flatter yourself¨CI wish to hear both your and Pearlescence¡¯s takes.¡± Illumisia clarifies dryly. ¡°I have not lived in anything like this for a very, very long time¨Cyet even I can tell that something is very, very wrong. Turn left here.¡±

    Illumisia turns as she speaks, herding me towards a house that looks no different from any of the others. I reach for the doorknob as I get close enough to the door, but pause when I actually take it in. The door is just¡­ a slab of wood. Which is technically what a door is, I know, but this goes way beyond that.

    There¡¯s no carvings, no handle, no window, no paint, and it isn¡¯t fitted into a frame. The logs used to make the house just stop, then there¡¯s a slab of wood, and then the logs start again. I frown and press my hand to the door, fully expecting it to either fall inward or be completely boarded up, but¡­ it swings open. Without any hinges to swing on.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m starting to see what you mean.¡± I note as I walk into the¡­ perfectly lit house. There¡¯s not a single shadow to be seen, and no light sources either. ¡°Okay, this is just eerie. What happened to this place?¡±

    ¡°That is what I am wondering.¡± Illumisia says as she flows past me into the house. ¡°The oddities continue to pile up the more you observe this house. Windows exist without frames, stairs are simple chunks of wood, and if you look at the grain in the wood, you will see that it appears to follow no logical pattern¨Cif there is even a pattern at all.¡±

    I blink in surprise and turn back to the door. Sure enough, the ¡®grain¡¯ on the wood is more like random lines on a beach¨Cand it just disappears randomly only to appear again later. I take in the rest of the entrance with a frown, noting dozens of strange inconsistencies that just make the place feel¡­ wrong. Almost like someone who only ever heard what a house was threw one together at the last minute.

    Pearl grits her teeth and balls her tiny little fists. ¡°The system made this.¡±

 Chapter 161: System Village

    The system made¡­ the house. I want to speak up and point out how strange that sounds, but the more I look around, the more the argument leaves me. It just doesn¡¯t look like anything a person would ever live in¨Cnevermind actually build. None of the logs that make up the walls have anything connecting them, the stairs aren¡¯t lined up right with the second floor, and everything is way too smooth for something made of these materials.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re right.¡± I narrow my eyes at the door across the room, which looks scarily like the one we came in through. ¡°Wonder if we took a really close look if all of those logs would be exactly the same. Like¡­ the system just copy-pasted one single entity it had saved over and over again.¡±

    Illumisia snorts and shakes her head. ¡°The system is not this sloppy. It has created detailed works of art and complex structures that do not so much as detract from the environment around them; no, this is purposeful. Though I cannot pretend to understand what that purpose may be.¡±

    ¡°Because it wants us to know. Plain and simple.¡± Pearl mutters. ¡°Are all the houses like this, Illumisia? Or is this the only one?¡±

    ¡°There are other houses that are perfect copies of this one and other buildings that have no signs of system interference.¡± Illumisia nods at the stairs, and in a blur of red, appears on the second floor. ¡°My personal assumption is that it planted these buildings here to make the village appear more populated than it originally was, but again, I cannot fathom why it would want to do that.¡±

    ¡°No ideas here yet.¡± I say as I carefully start climbing the stairs. ¡°Are we sure the system isn¡¯t messing with us by making some buildings shitty and others unassumingly fine? Because that¡¯s what I¡¯d do if I was in its shoes and trying to be a dick.¡±

    Illumisia shrugs. ¡°There is always that possibility. Yet Clutter was confident that there was, indeed, a village here. I see no reason to doubt his claim, and so I must assume that the system¡¯s modifications are where we need to be searching.¡±

    Sound logic. I take one slightly-too-large step from the top stair to the upper floor as I survey the layout, which doesn¡¯t look any different from what I felt in my awareness. It¡¯s all a loft, with the beams for the roof holding themselves up without anything obvious to help, and there¡¯s absolutely no furniture at all. Just a bunch of ugly brown rugs pushed into a corner.

    I nod at them. ¡°Are those important?¡±

    ¡°They have no patterns, fibers, or anything that should be useful in the slightest.¡± Illumisia saunters over to one of them and pulls it own with her teeth. ¡°They are one mass of material with a texture that imitates fibrousness, but that actually is completely solid. None of my tests provided any results, which leaves us with the tests that I cannot conduct.¡±

    ¡°The plastic.¡± Pearl says as I¡¯m already taking a chunk out of my inventory. ¡°Maybe it¡¯ll work like the map and show us some pictures.¡±

    I lean down over the rug while Illumisia steps away. Touching it feels like putting my fingers against a woven straw mat, but the thing distorts like wool. The gulf between sensations sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine.

    ¡°The map did lead us here.¡± I say and drop a handful of plastic on the rug. ¡°It¡¯d make sense if it used the same logic as revealing the map did to show us where to go.¡±

    As the plastic squirms on the rug, I take a step back and wait for the colours to start shifting. The stuff twitches, squelches, and ripples¡­ but it doesn¡¯t actually change. It doesn''t spread out like it did on the map, doesn¡¯t change colours, and it definitely doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s going to be helpful any time soon. But just in case it takes a while, I¡¯ll give it a minute.

    I stare hard at the stuff for all of twenty seconds before I lean down and send it back to my inventory. ¡°Well, that¡¯s a bust. I guess we should try all the other rugs first, though, just in case only one of them works.¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re doing that, then we should flip it over and try the other side too.¡± Pearl suggests. ¡°Since it¡¯s one solid mass, the plastic can¡¯t seep through it. Who knows; maybe the other side will have the clues we¡¯re looking for?¡±

    Both Illumisia and I sigh in annoyance, but she gets to pulling out another rug while I flip the first one over. Pearl sighs and rolls her eyes.

    ¡°You two are being so overdramatic.¡±

    ¡°The system is aggravating. I am simply letting it know.¡± Illumisia says.

    I nod in agreement. ¡°What she said, but add ¡®murderous¡¯ and ¡®an asshole¡¯ to ¡®aggravating.¡±

    Illumisia laughs through a mouthful of cloth. ¡°I accept your additions.¡±

    Pearl smiles knowingly. ¡°I knew you two could be friends.¡±

    A frown crosses my lips as I lock eyes with Illumisia. I fully expect to see disgust, or even the remnants of hated, but¡­ I just see amusement. Sarcastic amusement, sure, but it¡¯s way friendlier than I thought it¡¯d ever be. When the hell did that happen?This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°She still won¡¯t call me Shelby.¡±

    ¡°No, I will not, system-born.¡± Illumisia says with a lick of her lips and a smirk. ¡°When you have earned it, I will address you by your name. Until then, you are stuck with your designation.¡±

    I roll my eyes and smooth out the rug, then droop a gglobo of plastic on it. A flck of my wrist sends another glob to the one Illlumisia¡¯s in the process of smoothing out, and she shoots me a look so dry that I almost want to get a glass of water.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°A lowly system-born can be petty. You, the all-powerful megalodane, have to take the high road.¡±

    She snorts out a quick laugh. ¡°I made my living on the low road. Now we walk it side by side. Do hurry with this annoyance; Clutter must be worrying himself sick over absolutely nothing, and he gets quite difficult when he works himself up.¡±

    Yeah, yeah. I¡¯m on it. Not like either of the globs I already put down are doing anything to keep an eye on.

    <hr>

    Ten minutes and no results later, we¡¯re done. I walk out onto the street with Illumisia hot on my heels, plastic back in my inventory, and Clutter¡¯s relocation coin in my hand. I flick it into the middle of the street and take a step back, just in case, and flare the spell. Clutter appears with a yelp of surprise and one of his feet a good two feet in the air, hops around while trying to catch his balance, and finally manages to steady himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay! Perfectly fine and okay! Ooh, weird houses.¡± He notes, instantly shifting gears without an explanation for whatever he was doing beforehand. ¡°Whatever those logs are, they aren¡¯t native to the woods around here. Did the system mess up with making them?¡±

    I raise my eyebrows in surprise. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what we thought. I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d figure that out so fast.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯d be a pretty bad scout if I couldn¡¯t at least do this. I was up for a few hours last night studying maps and pictures I could find, just in case something like this happened, and I guess it was worth it!¡± He smiles proudly and puts his hands on his hips. ¡°So¡­ what are we looking for again? A well?¡±

    ¡°We are looking for anything out of place.¡± Illumisia informs him. ¡°The houses were merely the most obvious, and we have already checked them for danger. You are safe to examine them as closely as you wish.¡±

    He nods excitedly as his tail starts to wag. ¡°Okay! Is anything reacting yet?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°No reactions from the plastic, sphere, or map. Whatever the point of the system¡¯s interference here, we haven¡¯t found it yet.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense. The system works in really mysterious ways. Can I check out the houses now?¡±

    ¡°Knock yourself out.¡± I say with a gesture at the house we just left. ¡°Yell really loud if you find anything worth checking out.¡±

    ¡°I will!¡± He confirms as he scampers to the door, pauses to examine it, then throws it open and disappears into the house. ¡°Oh, wow, this place is really not made well! It looks like some kind of display model a house building company would have!¡±

    If that¡¯s a company¡¯s display model, I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯d be out of business within weeks. I wait a few seconds just in case Clutter has something else he wants to yell through the door, but it looks like he¡¯s gone into investigation mode. Illumisia nudges my leg to get me moving, and I don¡¯t resist as she pushes me towards a building that doesn''t look anywhere near as shitty as the houses.

    Even if it isn¡¯t obviously bad, there¡¯s something off about it. A sign with a treasure chest and coins marks it as a bank¨Cand as we walk in, my assumption is proved right. There¡¯s a dozen private booths, a desk for a receptionist to sit, and a lot of chairs for people to wait in. But in the back of the room, where the vault should be, is an open hole of half-burnt metal into another room that looks like it''s been ransacked.

    Metal drawers and cabinet doors lie haphazardly on the ground, footsteps in ash around them immortalizing whatever looting attempt took the last of this place¡¯s funds. I wave Illumisia off to have her check out the majority of the bank and step into the vault to get a closer look.

    The first thing that hits me is the smell. Old metal, stagnant water, and the slight char of burnt wood. I wrinkle my nose at the shift from absolutely no scent to the wall of sensations, take a very quick look around, then step back out the moment I can justify it.

    ¡°Are you done already?¡± Illumisia asks quizzically. ¡°You¡­ what is that scent?¡±

    I thumb at the vault with a frown. ¡°Inside there. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d think the system put some amazing ventilation in this place and completely forgot about the vault. Actually¡­ wait. Why does it look like someone blew up the vault door, but the rest of the bank is in perfect condition?¡±

    ¡°Huh, yeah, that¡¯s weird.¡± Pearl looks from the vault to the tables as she rubs her chin. ¡°There should be a lot of debris and collateral damage, but there¡¯s absolutely nothing. Almost like they purposefully rebuilt the bank without bothering to rebuild the vault.¡±

    ¡°If the system did this, then it did it for a reason.¡± I turn and pull my shirt over my mouth and nose. ¡°Guess I¡¯m going back in.¡±

    Scents and sensations bombard me from all angles as I walk back into the vault. They¡¯re no stronger or weaker than before, but knowing that I¡¯m going to be standing here for a minute or two puts a tear in my eye. I beeline for the spaces where the drawers were supposed to go, hundreds of square holes lining the walls for me to check. Most of them have nothing at all. Some of them have chunks of rotting things, or rocks, or pools of standing water. There¡¯s definitely not enough drawers on the ground to fill all of these, so whoever looted the place must¡¯ve taken the majority of them.

    Or maybe they were missing before that; who really knows? Once my awareness double-checks them all for me I move on to the larger spaces down below, with individual cabinets and shelves for larger things. Again I find evidence of wildlife, rain, and overgrowth. Which makes absolutely no sense for this to be in the same place as a refurbished bank.

    ¡°It¡¯s like the system rebuilt the bank, but left the vault intact.¡± I note as I step away from the last space. ¡°I think we need to check the other buildings. There¡¯s got to be a reason for this.¡±

 Chapter 162: Once Was, Now Is

    Stepping away from the bank is a little harder than I thought it¡¯d be. There¡¯s something about the place that bothers the hell out of me¨Clike staring down a dark alley and seeing something shift in the darkness. It¡¯s not as messed up as the houses, since the lighting works right and there aren¡¯t any obvious signs of system interference, but¡­ well¡­

    Honestly, I can¡¯t explain it. All I know is there¡¯s something off. ¡°Illumisia, did you find anything else?¡±

    She appears next to me and shakes her head. ¡°My instincts tell me that the vault and the bank itself were not made at the same time, but I cannot say for certain. If I had to guess, either the entire bank was destroyed and they left the vault untouched or everything was restored, and¡­ no that does not make sense.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Doesn¡¯t make sense how?¡±

    ¡°The system intervened somehow. That much I am certain of¨Cbut you found absolutely nothing in the vault. I could not sense any magic, either, and seeing as Pearlescence has not chimed in I assume she has not felt anything either.¡± She glances up at Pearl and hums in thought. ¡°Maybe we are looking at a singular piece of the puzzle, yet they do nothing without looking at the entire picture.¡±

    Pearl taps her lip and frowns. ¡°I don¡¯t know. All the other ¡®puzzle pieces¡¯ we¡¯ve found so far actually felt like magic and did things on their own. This is more like¡­ um¡­ looking at the entire puzzle and trying to figure out what it¡¯s supposed to be.¡±

    ¡°That is a terrible puzzle if it is the case.¡± Illumisia chuckles. ¡°Though I must admit it makes more sense considering what we¡¯ve seen. Shelby, what do you think?¡±

    I have no idea what I think. There¡¯s nothing around here that¡¯s given me a solid picture of anything at all¨Cjust that the system did something here and we don¡¯t know why. Were there houses here before the system put them here? Or was this more a¡­ pass-through town where people slept above their businesses and relied on the money coming in from merchants and people with classes?

    Hm¡­ honestly, I can¡¯t say. If the system altered the bank, then it could¡¯ve removed a floor or a basement really easily. Or if those houses existed before, then the system had a reason to convert all of them to the weird same-houses. Then¡­ what¡¯s the reason it had for doing anything at all to the bank?

    ¡°You¡¯re sure the system did something to the bank?¡± I ask as Illumisia leads us to a building that looks like a bakery and a butcher that share a wall. ¡°What if it¡¯s trying to make us think it did something to all the buildings, but it actually only put in the houses?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that is a possibility. One that we must either rule out or prove true.¡±

    Illumisia nudges the door to the butcher¡¯s open and steps inside. I follow immediately after her, fully expecting a wall of scent reminiscent of rotten meat and age-old decay. Instead, it smells like an abandoned factory¨Cwater, rust, and dirt. A glassed-in display counter with frost rolling off of magical inscriptions stops us from going any further than a dozen feet inside, and just a little beyond that lies multiple metal shelves, tables, and hooks where I assume they¡¯d store meat.

    Almost all of them look perfectly pristine. All but one¨Ca rusty hook attached to an inverted L-shaped pole on wheels that¡¯s just as decrepit as it is. The hooks around it don¡¯t even look like they¡¯ve been used, but that one¨Cmarred with rust, moss, and dripping with brown water¨Clooks like it¡¯s been sitting in the woods for a decade.

    ¡°At least the system isn¡¯t trying to hide that something¡¯s fishy.¡± Pearl says flatly as she crosses her arms. ¡°But we¡¯re still stuck with exactly the same question¨Cwhy is that one thing decrepit while everything else looks as fresh as the day it was built? And¨Cand why can¡¯t I feel any magic from anything in here? It¡¯s weird! Magic¡¯s supposed to be everywhere!¡±

    She huffs and sits down on something without uncrossing her arms. Now that she mentions it¡­ I can¡¯t feel any magic at all. There¡¯s always at least a little bit of it¨Csince pretty much everything in this world is at least a little magical¨Cbut the only magic things I can sense in here are me, Pearl, and Illumisia. Whatever the system did here, it didn¡¯t leave behind any residue. Or it cleaned up the aftermath so diligently that nothing was left behind.

    But why the hell would it bother with that, when it¡¯s leaving so many obvious clues behind? I sigh and shake my head; there¡¯s no point in trying to figure out the system¡¯s intentions. This quest was put in place before I even came here, so it can¡¯t be purposefully messing with me. Maybe this is just the norm and I¡¯m used to exceptions, so this seems wrong.

    The door swings open behind me. My awareness tells me it¡¯s Clutter before I see him, and from how his shoulders aren¡¯t sagging and his tail isn¡¯t wagging, it looks like he didn¡¯t find anything.

    ¡°No luck?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°Everything was just weird. Not magical, or important, or mysterious¨Cjust really weird. The system doesn¡¯t usually do things like this.¡±

    I stifle a snort and instead pat him on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it¨Cwe haven¡¯t found anything either. I do have a question for you, though¨Cdid you ever hear about this place before this?¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Do you mean the¡­ butcher shop?¡±

    ¡°No, the little town, dumbass.¡± I sigh and shake my head. ¡°Was this place completely abandoned before this, and the system swooped in to rebuild it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that. Hmm.¡± Clutter grabs the door and sticks his head outside, then looks around. ¡°I know I was kind of aware that it existed. But it definitely isn¡¯t being used right now, since I haven¡¯t seen a single sign of life. Maybe it got destroyed by something, and the system rebuilt it for the quest. For some reason.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m leaning towards. Only problem is the ¡®why¡¯.¡± I nod at the rusty hook as Clutter closes the door. ¡°The vault in the bank was just like that hook¨Ccompletely busted in the middle of an otherwise perfect building. Can you think of any reason why that¡¯d be the case?¡±

    Clutter raises his palms in a shrug.

    ¡°Yeah, neither can we. Might as well check out the bakery next.¡±

    ¡°I will check the back for any other signs.¡± Illumisia says and hops over the counter with ease. ¡°If this truly is a butcher, then they should have more machinery and cooling than just this. I assume there is a doorway here that we are misinterpreting as a wall.¡±

    Pearl nods and points at one of the racks. ¡°That rack is perfectly covering a handle.¡±

    Illumisia tilts her head at the rack in question, then turns to look at me. I get the feeling she wants to check this out alone for some reason, and I don¡¯t have a reason not to let her. So I pat Clutter on the back and herd him through the door once more.

    ¡°Maybe the bakery will shed some light on things.¡± I say without looking back, but in my awareness, I feel Illumisia pulling open something incredibly thick. ¡°You said something about a well being around here yesterday, right? Do you know where it is?¡±

    Clutter frowns and tilts his head. ¡°I did say that, didn¡¯t I? Yeah, there¡¯s definitely a well around here somewhere. But¡­ if I remember a well being here¡­ why don¡¯t I remember a town this close to it? Actually, all I remember is a well in a thick forest and some old people saying there was a town around here. I¡­ wait¡­ why can¡¯t I remember?¡±

    Uh-oh. That sounds like system interference if I¡¯ve ever heard of it. I open my mouth to try and pry some more info out of him, but before I can get a word out, I remember something horrible.

    ¡°Clutter¡­ didn¡¯t you say you grew up in Denmary?¡±

    His expression falls as the blood drains from his skin. For a split second, I¡¯m convinced he just got caught in a lie. Then he slowly raises his shaking hands and stares at them blankly while opening and closing rapidly drying lips.

    ¡°I grew up in Denmary.¡± He murmurs. ¡°I lived here. This is Denmary. Why¡­ I told you¡­ and then¡­ I forgot? Did¡­ did I actually grow up in Denmary, or did the system make me think that so I would be happy to come here?¡±

    That¡¯s an unprecedented level of freaking out for him. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen him openly question the system like that, before, either. As his eyes focus a little too sharply on his own hands, full of question and doubt, I summon a purification coin and carefully snap it between my fingers to release the spell.

    It washes over us like a wave, and Clutter¡¯s eyes widen likek he¡¯d just seen a ghost. He takes a step back, rapidly scanning the area, then grabs my arm and starts pulling me towards the bakery. I don¡¯t resist, but it¡¯s weird as hell, so I command the cloud of purification to follow us into the building.

    The second we¡¯re inside, Clutter slams the door shut and looks around manically. He rushes at a display rack, almost exactly like the one inside the butcher¡¯s, and struggles to push it towards the door.

    He locks desperate eyes with me. ¡°Help!¡±

    The emotion in his plea spurs me on, and before I can really think, I¡¯m lifting the other side of the rack and bustling it over to the door. We slam it down on the ground, but even then, Clutter doesn¡¯t stop. He takes rack after rack, these one without my help, and barricades the door with each and every one of them.

    When he finally steps away, breathing heavily, I smack him on the bicep and shoot him a confused look. ¡°The hell was that about?¡±

    ¡°Them.¡± He jabs a finger at the door. ¡°When I ran away at the jewelry store, they did something to me. It must¡¯ve been a psychic, since I¡¯m not hurt at all and only my memories were messed with. I¡­ they didn''t erase them.¡±

    He turns to me, eyes full of fear, and starts to shake. ¡°They just put them in a nice little box and made sure my brain couldn¡¯t look inside. Then when you said what you did, I tried to find those memories, and they just¡­ they¡­¡±

    It looks like he¡¯s about to break into tears. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Clutter. You¡¯re good now.¡±

    ¡°No! We¡¯re not good! They specifically targeted me because I know this place! They knew the system did something here, and they targeted me because I¡¯d know what the system did!¡± He throws his hands in the air as he screams. ¡°And that means they know we¡¯re coming here! They¡¯re here somewhere, waiting for us to screw up, or even just put out guard down a little, and then they¡¯re going to¨C¡±

    Magic washes over the building like a soothing breeze. Clutter freezes up completely, his hands drooping to his sides as his outburst of emotion is stilled like a robot returning to its idle pose. I wave a hand in front of his face, but his eyes don¡¯t move in the slightest. Even my purification doesn¡¯t seem to do anything, wafting uselessly around him in a glitter of magic and salt.

    The magic pushes against me. It tries to worm its way into my brain, but I push it back with all the might my awareness can muster. I feel it snap. But the snap doesn¡¯t resound back¨Cit just breaks around me, then dies out. Something tells me that whoever just did that has no idea that I¡¯m not subdued like Clutter is.

    ¡°Illumisia, I need¨C¡± I start, fully intending to tell her to kill whoever did this, but my voice stops working. Exactly like how it stopped working back with the masked assholes. ¡°Shit, my skill. Illumisia¡­ keep an eye on us and make sure whoever¡¯s doing this doesn¡¯t kill us. Only step in if it looks like we¡¯re about to die or somehow lose access to the quest.¡±

    Something angry rumbles up against my gut. It¡¯s hot, emotional, and insanely protective. A small smile graces my lips, and in the midst of the fear, a small comfort worms its way into place. I take a deep breath, relax my shoulders, and pick a random spot in the distance to stare off into. Shadows darken the frosted glass window on the door. I swallow the last of my fear and dismiss my remaining purification.

    If my skill isn¡¯t right about this, then I¡¯m never using it again.

 Chapter 163: Not Here For Me

    The door slowly and carefully creaks open. A soft wind blows in, carrying a scent of lavender and the woodiness of some badly made vegetable medley. I almost wrinkle my nose in disgust, but catch myself at the last moment. The shadows darkening my awareness would easily notice it.

    The one further behind, who looks like a ytocwa, scratches his face and stares at Clutter. ¡°You¡¯re sure this is the right one? Not the geologist or either of the jewelers?¡±

    ¡°Perfectly sure.¡± The closer one, a woman clad in airtight simple metal armor, says tensely. ¡°The info said he¡¯d be with a human with a shellraiser shell in her hair. Unless there¡¯s hundreds of those running around we don¡¯t know about, I¡¯m damn sure that¡¯s her.¡±

    The ytocwa hums deep in his throat, but doesn¡¯t say anything. He pokes Clutter¡¯s temple and flinches back at absolutely nothing, then laughs shakily in embarrassment. The armored woman sighs, but not in annoyance, and smacks him on the ass.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so scared; it¡¯s your magic making him like that. Her, too, I guess, but she¡¯s not important.¡± She glances my way, but turns away a second later. Then she tilts her head to the side and looks back. ¡°Wait, isn¡¯t she the one Stonestep Solutions wants dead?¡±

    ¡°Is she?¡± The ytocwa¡¯s eyes open wide and he steps away from Clutter. ¡°Oh, no, she is. Um¡­ what are we supposed to do now? Does Stonestep Solutions want Clutter too?¡±

    Wait. What? Why does it sound like they know him personally? I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to keep from making any noises or expressions, but it¡¯s getting harder and more confusing by the second. If these people aren¡¯t here for me, and are only here for Clutter personally, then do they even know about the quest?

    Pearl knocks her knuckles against something. ¡°They don¡¯t have any weapons, Shelby.¡±

    Yet again, I have to forcibly stop my eyebrows from rising. A closer look at the pair proves Pearl right¨Cthe armored woman doesn¡¯t even have a scabbard, her armor isn¡¯t dented in the slightest, and she seems perfectly at ease with the situation. The ytocwa, on the other hand, looks like he¡¯s ready to run away at a loud noise, but he isn¡¯t readying any magic or trying to put either of us in any kind of restraints.

    Something about the pair tickles a thought in the back of my mind. The armored woman in particular¨Cher arms don¡¯t seem perfectly even, almost like she¡¯s concealing something in one of them, but she¡¯s too airtight for me to tell. They both turn away from me to whisper to each other, loud enough for me to overhear, and I carefully blink my drying eyes while they¡¯re not looking.

    ¡°I know we¡¯re here for him, but¡­ what if he actually wants to be here?¡± She whispers with a frown in her voice. ¡°He seemed excited to tell the woman and the painted dane something. Would he do that if he didn¡¯t like them?¡±

    The ytocwa snorts. ¡°He¡¯s still with Dell.¡±

    ¡°Point taken.¡± The woman grumbles. ¡°He¡¯s not exactly the best judge of character, that¡¯s for sure. But¡­ if he does want to be here, then do we have any right to bring him back to the Drift?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have a ¡®right¡¯ to do anything.¡± The ytocwa raises a hand to his mouth and bites his thumb claw. ¡°Dang it, I thought this was going to be a heroic rescue. Now I just feel like a huge jerk.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ there is a really easy way to solve this.¡± The armored woman turns and stares at me. ¡°All we have to do is talk to her. There¡¯s been a huge overlap of Stonestep Solutions¡¯ enemies and our allies.¡±

    ¡°But she¡¯s human. She could be with¡­ them.¡± The ytocwa shivers as he speaks.

    The woman pats him on the shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s just a risk we¡¯re going to have to take. Be ready to numb her mind again if things go bad.¡±

    He laces his fingers together, but reluctantly nods. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m going to¡­ undo¡­¡± His face falls. Well, that¡¯s the end of the act. ¡°Um. Um. B-Briony?¡±

    She turns to him. I roll my shoulder, and he lets out a fearful peep. ¡°What, Vesa? Did you forget your own magic?¡±

    ¡°N-n-no. S-she¡­ she¡¯s¡­¡± He stutters and points a clawed finger in my direction.

    Briony, since I¡¯m assuming that¡¯s her name, tilts her head to the side before turning it towards me. Her entire body freezes up as I give her a little wave with a smile that shows just enough teeth to be intimidating.

    ¡°How¡­ you¡­¡± She trails off, then snaps into a fighting stance. ¡°Vesa, did your magic even work on her?¡±

    He shakes his head and shrugs at the same time. ¡°I don¡¯t know! There wasn¡¯t any backlash, so I thought it did!¡±

    I can¡¯t help the grin spreading over my face. ¡°Let¡¯s leave that little mystery for another time, alright? And with that out of the way; nice to meet you. Why the hell are you trying to kidnap my friend?¡±

    ¡°Kidnap?! We aren¡¯t¡­ I mean¡­¡± Vesa trails off as he makes eye contact with Clutter¡¯s glazed expression. ¡°Oh. I guess we kind of are kidnapping him. But not for whatever reason you think we are!¡±

    ¡°Right. We aren¡¯t with Stonestep Solutions. In fact, we¡¯re kind of enemies with them, so we should be friends instead! Hahaha¡­ ha.¡± Briony winces as she trails off. ¡°Okay, I get why you wouldn''t trust that. Since there¡¯s all the psychic mind numbing going on, and we¡¯re not just¡­ asking Clutter to come with us like friends would.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Seems more like the kind of thing Stonestep Solutions or the Preservation would do to try and stop us from getting to the quest we¡¯re chasing.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Both of them stare blankly at me at the mention of the Preservation. I kind of thought that was who they were alluding to a second ago, but maybe I was wrong.

    ¡°The Preservation? The one with all the humans in it?¡± Vesa screws his face into a confused frown. ¡°Why would we be working for them? We aren¡¯t human. Now HuSt¨C¡±

    Briony elbows him in the chest. ¡°We¡¯re not with anyone you think we¡¯re with. Clutter is an¡­ important person where we¡¯re from, and he has a tendency to get in way over his head. It lost me an eye a while ago, and if you¡¯ve been with him for a while, you know how it is.¡±

    Lost an eye? Didn¡¯t he tell me a story about that? ¡°Were you with that one group who tried to help at the graveyard?¡±

    ¡°...Yes, actually, I was.¡± She crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side. ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    I gesture at Clutter¡¯s back. ¡°He told me after we went to said graveyard. Damn thing almost killed me, too.¡±

    ¡°I know, right?¡± Brinoy sighs in annoyance. ¡°Those stupid trees could easily save themselves, but they¡¯re so obsessed with only being ¡®overseers¡¯ that they won¡¯t do anything to stop things that have already happened. Unless it involves killing Paindne, then they¡¯re sure fine with it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me. The plastic stuff knocked me out for a split second and hurt me something fierce, and all the tree could manage was a little bit of sap and some ground water.¡± I summon a flask and slosh the thick liquid inside for emphasis. ¡°If we weren¡¯t on a quest, I would¡¯ve been royally pissed at the thing.¡±

    Briony nods vigorously in agreement as Vesa looks between us with confusion. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what happened, but¡­ are we friends now?¡±

    ¡°Hell no.¡± I snort.

    ¡°I think so.¡± Briony says thoughtfully.

    Both of them turn to me while Briony visibly deflates. ¡°I¡­ you two still tried to kidnap Clutter. You think having one shared misery makes us friends? How about you start by un-freezing Clutter, then we can talk like civilized people while we keep looking for our quest.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ we can¡¯t do that yet.¡± Vesa apologizes and shrinks away. ¡°Clutter won¡¯t listen to us if he actually sees us¨Cbut he¡¯ll listen to the people who hired us to come get him.¡±

    I wait a second for him to elaborate, then coax him with a motion of my hand. He grimaces and looks out the frosted glass of the door, warring with himself over how much he either wants or can tell me. After a while, Briony nudges him with her knuckles.

    ¡°Just tell her. It¡¯s not like things can get much worse than this.¡±

    Vesa hums, then slowly nods. I¡¯m¡­ just¡­ why are people trusting me so openly now? Wait. No. It can¡¯t be.

    ¡°Briony, are you a Paindne?¡±

    She cocks her head to the side in a very Clutter-like way. ¡°How¡¯d you know? I''ve even got a little spatial enchantment hiding my tail and rings while I¡¯m in here.¡±

    Oh, god damn it. Illumisia¡¯s DNA is definitely doing something to the Paindne. It¡¯s working out for me so far, but it¡¯s only a matter of time until it majorly bites me in the ass somehow. I need to find some way to cancel out¡­ whatever it is that¡¯s happening. My silence looks like it¡¯s unsettling the pair, though, so I shake my head and sigh.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I was just¡­ wondering why two ytocwa would be after Clutter, but this makes more sense.¡± I smile falsely, and even though Vesa flinches, Briony doesn¡¯t even react. ¡°What¡¯s with the name?¡±

    ¡°My name? What¡¯s wrong with it?¡± Briony asks, and it sounds legitimate.

    ¡°Uh¡­ it¡¯s¡­ well¡­¡± I trail off as I try to find a way to say this without sounding stupid. ¡°Clutter, Nibble, Dizzy, Clamber, Scooch¡­ it¡¯s just that all the Paindne names I¡¯ve heard so far have been¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, that.¡± Briony breathes a sigh of relief and puts a hand on her chest. ¡°They¡¯ve got more modern names, and mine¡¯s more traditional. That¡¯s all it is.¡±

    Vesa snorts, which gets him an armored elbow in the gut. It looks like there¡¯s more to the name, but that can¡¯t be important now. We¡¯re running dangerously low on time, and I¡¯m wasting a handful of the precious minutes on small-talk. If nothing else, I need to tell Illumisia to keep searching.

    I take a deep breath and focus on a mental image of Illumisia. ¡°It looks like we¡¯re not going to have any bloody problems here, so we can move on to the more important stuff now.¡±

    A growl enters my mind, and my awareness feels the door to the butcher¡¯s swing open with a terrible crack. Briony bristles at the sound and swivels to face it, and Vesa stiffens at the sudden alertness of his partner.

    ¡°Something just broke.¡± Briony mutters. ¡°They must¡¯ve followed us from the camp.¡±

    Vesa nods and puts a hand on Clutter¡¯s chest. ¡°Then it¡¯s not safe here. We need to get Clutter out right now.¡±

    ¡°Hey, hey, don¡¯t worry about it. This place is just falling apart. See?¡± I rap my knuckles against the wall and push a small projectile against the impact. Wood and paint fly away in a slightly more violent whirl than I¡¯d intended. ¡°Let¡¯s just finish talking about why you want to take Clutter away, and then you can leave us alone.¡±

    Briony shakes her head. ¡°Not here; there¡¯s too many entrances. We can hole up in the system made houses, though. Vesa, you make sure Clutter doesn¡¯t get hurt. You¨Cwanted woman¨Cyou¡¯re with me. I¡¯m not as good at protecting people as a psychic or a defender is, though, so you¡¯ll have to stick close.¡±

    I blink as she puts a hand on my arm and magic swiftly yet insistently creeps down her armor. But not her body. It looks like water cascading over an umbrella, leaving the person underneath completely untouched. Curiosity warms my gut, and in a moment of weakness, I let her magic touch my skin.

    It hits like a shock of caffeine to my exhausted body. My brain whirls and spins with a buzzing flicker in the background that¡¯s just a little too loud to completely ignore. I can¡¯t even feel what she¡¯s doing to me, but it isn¡¯t sitting on my skin¨Cit¡¯s digging through and seeping into my veins where my body takes command and zips it through my bloodstream.

    Everything feels¡­ intense. The air on my skin. Warm metal on my arm, yet somehow, it''s as soft as silk. Sounds hit my ears like a powerful and cleansing calming rain. I lick my lips, which somehow feel plumper and healthier than ever before. Honestly, it feels like I just got a rejuvenating magic spa day that¡¯s somehow leaving tangible benefits behind.

    Vesa glances back at me expectantly. I smile cooly at him, and he turns away with a shiver. Apparently I still make everyone uncomfortable except for Paindne.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯m fine.¡± I say and walk towards the door. ¡°I can protect myself against whoever¡¯s following you.¡±

    Briony¡¯s hand tightens ever so slightly around my arm. ¡°No, you can¡¯t.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°You don¡¯t know me, so don¡¯t make assumptions.¡±

    ¡°Yes, and you don¡¯t know our enemies. Just¡­ even if you¡¯re strong, let us protect you.¡± She pleads, and it seems genuine. If I could see her eyes, I bet they¡¯d be wide and begging. ¡°You¡¯re not even clearance ten. Don¡¯t try fighting jerks with clearance twenty.¡±

 Chapter 164: The Hunters

    Illumisia snorts a laugh. Pearl stifles her own, but I¡¯m not quite as amused as they are. Briony is right that my clearance isn¡¯t that high. And from the ¡®fight¡¯ with those masked assholes, I¡¯m not as confident in my abilities as I used to be. Just because I don¡¯t know how strong a clearance level makes you, I can¡¯t be¡­ cocky. Even though I want to.

    ¡°I¡¯m only clearance five. How much stronger is clearance twenty?¡±

    ¡°A lot. Like, almost not comparable.¡± Briony pushes the door open with one hand and pulls me into the street. ¡°You have¡­ what, five to seven in each stat? Well, someone with clearance twenty is getting close to forty in their highest stat. Maybe even fifty if they¡¯ve gotten lucky with drops.¡±

    I nod idly as I look around for threats. ¡°What¡¯s that translate to power-wise?¡±

    ¡°Hm. Probably¡­ five times as powerful for most spells, and they have access to a lot of stuff that you physically couldn¡¯t use. And that¡¯s not even factoring in how much more mana they have, so they can outlast you, too.¡± She swallows hard and snaps her neck in every direction looking for danger. ¡°I¡¯m only clearance eighteen right now, so I could put up a good fight, but I¡¯m not strong enough to fight and protect at the same time. Only psychics and defenders have that luxury.¡±

    Psychics and defenders. Gisela and Dora¡¯s classes. That¡­ that has to be a coincidence, right?

    ¡°You said that before. I get defenders, but why psychics?¡±

    Briony lets out a pinched laugh. ¡°Because psychics are pretty much the strongest class there is. They can do almost anything the other classes can do, and they can funnel most of their stat points into mind¨Cmaking them way more efficient than everyone else. Add in the mind-altering thing that no other classes can do¡­ and¡­ well, you can see what I mean.¡±

    I sort of can, yeah. Except for the fact that Gasp didn¡¯t seem very good at avoiding dying, she was the centerpiece of the Preservation¡¯s plan. Then again, Shout could somehow copy her spells, and he¡¯s not a Worth class-so whatever he is has to be up there in the power rankings as well. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t be thinking about this right now. But then again, they¡¯re freaking out over Illumisia. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re actually about to be attacked.

    Clattering footsteps on slightly slick stone echo out as we jog towards the nearest house. A flash of fur and magic blinks against the corner of my awareness, and Illumisia slinks into a building that looks like some kind of indoor market. The village is a little bigger than I thought it was, with something that looks like a church up on a hill and a schoolhouse off in the distance, but all of it is just too¡­ pristine looking.

    Whatever doubt I had about the system completely repairing this place slowly falls away. Now my thoughts are consumed with questions as to why it bothered remaking the village in the first place, why it left behind a few oddities, and why the houses are so much more obvious than the other buildings. Before I can open my mouth to ask, Vesa kicks open the door to one of the houses and waves Briony in.

    ¡°It¡¯s clear!¡± He calls from a whole eight feet in front of us. ¡°No thoughts inside at all.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow in curiosity. ¡°You can hear thoughts?¡±

    ¡°Kind of. It¡¯s hard to explain. I¡¯ll tell you in a second.¡± He says as we hurry into the house, then glances around outside for any signs of these ¡®clearance twenty¡¯ attackers. Then he slams the door shut, presses his palm half over the door and half over the connected wall, and leaves a magic handprint there. ¡°That should keep them out for at least a few minutes. And yes, I can hear thoughts¨Cbut it¡¯s more like a garbled white noise telling me that thinking beings are close. Apparently some really high level psychics can hear perfectly clearly, but I¡¯m not one of them.¡±

    ¡°Not yet, at least.¡± Briony corrects him. She makes her way to a chair and falls into it with a sigh. ¡°Okay. Well, if we want you to trust us, then I guess we have to spill some information. Do you want to start with why we¡¯re after Clutter?¡±

    I let out a short, amused breath. ¡°That¡¯s pretty much all I want to know.¡±

    Briony tilts her head to the side. ¡°You don¡¯t care what classes we are, or who we are, or how we know Clutter in the first place?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that last one connect to why you¡¯re after Clutter?¡± I turn to face my still-frozen friend, who Vesa is moving away from the door. ¡°Is he in danger?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re all in danger.¡± Vesa mutters. He carefully makes sure Clutter is up against an inner wall, then walks away with a frown. ¡°There are people out there who don¡¯t care what happens, and there are people out there who really don¡¯t want specific things to happen. Both of those groups want us gone.¡±

    Briony nods in agreement. ¡°And then there¡¯s HuSt, who are just a bunch of huge jerks that do whatever they want no matter who it hurts or benefits. You¡­ aren¡¯t with HuSt, right?¡±

    ¡°No, I definitely am not.¡±

    She sighs in relief. ¡°If you aren¡¯t with them, and you aren¡¯t with Stonestep Solutions, then you¡¯re not with any of our enemies near Palastia. Which makes you perfectly safe to talk to.¡±

    I hold out a hand to stop her. ¡°How do you know I¡¯m not with anyone else?¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re clearance five.¡± Vesa says like it¡¯s obvious. ¡°Maybe if you were clearance ten, then we''d have to be worried, but five is perfectly safe for a human. You haven¡¯t even gotten access to the rest of the continent yet, nevermind the world.¡±

    So I really am still in the tutorial. I¡¯d love to think that means this quest should¡¯t be too dangerous, but because the horizonguard who runs Stonestep Solutions is in on it, it¡¯s going to be dangerous.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s fair.¡± I walk over to Clutter and plant myself next to him. ¡°So what¡¯s the story? Start with introductions, then go to why you¡¯re trying to kidnap Clutter ¡®for his own good¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯m Briony, which you already know, and I¡¯m a transmuter. Do you know what class that is? I¡¯m just going to assume you don¡¯t.¡± She holds out a hand, and her armor shimmers with magic. ¡°I can change the properties of things I touch, and my spells let that happen to other things too. Like what I did to your body¨CI took all the waste products and exhaustion and turned them into energy. Then I amplified it a little with another spell, and now you feel like you just had a perfect sleep and are freakishly alert while also being calm at the same time.¡±

    I blink slowly and glance down at my hand. ¡°That sounds unbelievably useful.¡±

    Briony twitches and sits up straighter. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not that much. Most people want scouts, warriors, defenders, mages, psychics¡­ pretty much all the straightforward classes. Mine is too complicated to be really useful.¡±

    ¡°Too complicated? You take something and alter it. That¡¯s not complicated.¡± I hold up my hand with a ring on it and tap the piece of jewelry. ¡°Could you turn this into a different metal or stone if you had enough mana?¡±

    ¡°If I had enough mana, I¨Cwait, you already said that.¡± She laughs in embarrassment and lowers her hands into her lap. ¡°It takes a lot of mana to change something powerful, no matter what end of the change it¡¯s on. But turning¡­ say¡­ water into blood isn¡¯t that hard. Unless it¡¯s inside of someone, because their will fights me every step of the way.¡±

    I cross my arms and hum in thought. ¡°What about a health potion? How hard would it be to turn water into one of those?¡±

    Before Briony can say anything, Vesa coughs and slightly shakes his head. She stops and stares at him for a second, then seems to realize that she¡¯d just been spilling what I assume are secrets freely.

    ¡°C-can you pretend I didn¡¯t say anything?¡± She asks meekly.

    I cock a smile and zip my lips. ¡°Didn¡¯t hear anything after you said ¡®Transmuter¡¯. Are you a full-class or a partial one?¡±

    Briony thinks for a second, then nods slowly. ¡°I¡¯m a full class. Anyone over Clearance ten will be, but they¡¯ll usually for the specialize spells and skills they¡¯ve worked with. But you humans always get full classes from the start, right?¡±

    I nod. Vesa glances away.

    ¡°Lucky.¡± He grumbles, and I pretend I didn¡¯t hear him.

    ¡°Cool. I already know Vesa¡¯s a psychic, and that¡¯s enough for me for now. So why Clutter? Is he some kind of royalty back where you¡¯re from?¡±

    ¡°Clutter? Royalty?¡± Briony giggles at the thought and waves her hand dismissively. ¡°No way. Clutter¡¯s not one of those jerks. He¡¯s a super skilled full scout, who mastered an insanely powerful movement spell that most people can¡¯t even imagine.¡±

    Ah, the starway. It did seem like a little more than anything else I¡¯ve seen a normal person in this world use. ¡°Is that it?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°Nope. Clutter was working for the people we¡¯re working for, but then he just kind of disappeared one day. We had to track him for months just to find a single hint of his existence, and then it led us here¨Cwell, it led us to the alley we found him in yesterday, but you get the point. He was emotional and it looked like he was running from someone, so Vesa did something stupid.¡±

    Vesa whips around with a look of utter hurt. ¡°You didn¡¯t think it was stupid yesterday.¡±

    ¡°No, but with hindsight, you have to admit it was kind of stupid. Getting rid of all his memories involving us just so we could talk to him as strangers, and then he still ran away afterwards before you could undo it?¡± She raises her palms ever so slightly. ¡°It was pretty stupid.¡±

    ¡°Mrrgh. It wasn¡¯t stupid. Rushed, maybe, but not stupid.¡± Vesa grumbles and turns to stare Clutter in the eyes. ¡°We didn¡¯t know he was fine. Our last piece of info said Stonestep Solutions had killed him, so we acted¡­¡±

    Briony tilts her chin up a little, and I can imagine her smiling. ¡°Stupid?¡±

    Vesa frowns and completely looks away grumbling. It sounds something like begrudging agreement, but it could just as easily be a childish insult. Either way, it puts a perfect bow of an explanation on almost everything. Except for the one giant hole in the excuse.

    I lean forward and discreetly ready two shield coins. ¡°Sounds horrible. So when was the last time you saw Clutter before this?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it must''ve been¡­ a long time.¡± Briony sighs and leans back in her chair. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him since he left our squad.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I say in monotone. ¡°What about the time you lost your eye because he was a coward?¡±

    Both Vesa and Briony freeze. She stays stark still, like a statue for a dozen heartbeats. Then like a coiled spring releasing all of its energy, she launches herself at me and Clutter. I raise an arm to defend myself, pulling up a shield in preparation that coats me and the mind-numbed Clutter in protection.

    A surge of horrible magic batters up against it. Briony screams in agony and falls to the ground clutching her head, her limbs curling up into the fetal position as Vesa carefully steps around her to make his way to Clutter¡¯s side.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± He asks fearfully. ¡°What did you do with Briony? And¡­ when did you do it?!¡±¡¯

    ¡°AAAAGH! MAKE IT STOOOP!¡± Briony wails in agony. ¡°I¡­ I¡­ it was¡­ I was¡­¡±

    Magic washes over her once more, and with a pinched gasp, the screaming stops. I watch in disgust as she gathers herself, pulls herself to her feet, and wraps her hands around her own neck.

    Vesa swallows hard. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Shelby, I¡¯ve got her under control. Whoever she is, she won¡¯t get Clutter on my watch. But we need to get back to Palastia right now.¡±

    Sick, vitriolic disgust swims in my gut as magic batters at my shield. I close one fist and summon a projectile into it, then place a purification directly under my foot. Right now, there¡¯s only one person here who can mess with minds.

    ¡°How do you know my name?¡±

 Chapter 165: Unwitting Puppet

    Silence spreads like a plague. Unnatural, disturbing quiet from Briony and Clutter. And the silence of absolutely nothing from Vesa. He stares at me mouthing the start of multiple sentences. Eventually, those motions shift from scrambling into a calm and worried smile¨Cthe kind someone puts on when they¡¯re about to tell you you¡¯re crazy.

    ¡°Shelby, what are you talking about? You¡¯re wanted by Stonestep Solutions¨Cof course I know your name.¡± Vesa takes a step forward. The magic grows just a little stronger. It closes in all around my shield like the insistent, deadly pressure of the deep ocean. ¡°Just because Briony tried to lie to you, it doesn''t mean we¡¯re both liars.¡±

    ¡°The hell you aren¡¯t.¡± I sneer and shove another shield at Clutter¡¯s chest. It bursts into a holding cell, both to protect him from Vesa¨Cand me from him. ¡°Only one asshole here has mind altering powers. You think I buy that it¡¯s a coincidence that Briony just so happened to forget something in exactly the same way Clutter did? Is that the only thing your spell can do?¡±

    Vesa shakes his head. ¡°Shelby, you¡¯re not thinking straight. Just relax, let your thoughts cool down, and give the situation another look-over. Briony tried to attack the two of you, and I protected you from her. How does that make me your enemy?¡±

    The magic shifts. An omnipresent pressure collapses into a needle less than an inch thick directly at the back of my head. Cold sweat trickles down my back as I feel just how much concentrated power is inside of that thing; it¡¯s nowhere near as weak as Shout¡¯s damn claws, but not close to anything I¡¯ve seen Noland or Ursula do. Instead, it just reminds me almost perfectly of the power level of the masked attackers.

    I have to do something. Vesa doesn''t seem to know that I can feel his invisible magic. Purification probably won''t work on the needle itself, since it''s stronger than anything I can make, but maybe I can interrupt the connection between the caster and the spell. A quick projectile to break his focus and a purification follow-up to hopefully sever his connection to the spell.

    ¡­Of course, that opens up the question of how I purified his control of Clutter in the first place, but I can¡¯t worry about that now. Because the only thing I can think of is that he let me do that for some unfathomable reason.

    Coins simmer against my palm as I take a deep breath. Vesa raises an eyebrow, just as much in question as in confusion, and I snap the projectile at the edge of my shield. He roars in surprise as I take down the barrier and duck down as far as I can go, the sensation of the needle hovering menacingly in place not diminishing in the slightest.

    As he stumbles back, hands bloody and mangled from trying to block my projectile, I toss a trio of purification coins at everyone else. With a single thought they detonate, spreading a salty mist of nullification across half of the room. Clutter coughs, then yelps. Briony screams in pain, which slowly devolves into a whimper as she dully scans the room.

    ¡°What¡­¡± She trails off as she stares at Vesa. ¡°Oh, no¡­ don¡¯t¡­ it¡¯s not¡­¡±

    I lunge at vesa and wrap my hands around his throat. He gags, flailing his arms through the mist as his eyes widen with fear and recognition. One last shield seals him in here with me, inside of the purifying mists.

    ¡°Who the hell are you?!¡± I demand as I stomp his foot to keep him from thrashing. ¡°You¡¯re with Stonestep Solutions, aren''t you? Or maybe you¡¯re working for the Preservation because they can¡¯t get at the other, more powerful people I work with. TALK!¡±

    Vesa chokes and grabs my forearms, his fingers clamping down tightly. ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t¡­ breathe¡­¡±

    I grimace and let off his windpipe. ¡°You¡¯ve got fifteen seconds of air. Use them well, and maybe I¡¯ll give you a few more.¡±

    He gasps in relief, tears streaming down his cheeks. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°You goddamn better be.¡± I snarl and slam him against my shield. ¡°Talk, damn you! Who are you working for? Why are you after Clutter? Was it all a ruse to get to me?!¡±

    ¡°It¡­ wasn¡¯t my fault. I didn¡¯t even think of it.¡± He whimpers, then shifts a little to look over my shoulder. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone. All I wanted to do was find my friend. But then¡­ then¡­¡±

    Dull reverberations echo against my shield. Vesa continues to stare directly at them. My grip tightens in frustration, and that annoying stare starts to go dark. I shift from his windpipe to his arteries; if he faints, his magic goes away. If he dies¡­ well¡­ I had no intention of shifting my hands. Apparently my skill isn¡¯t as pissed with this slimy little wyrm as I am.

    He breathes, gasping and writhing, until his body goes limp. The second his eyes unfocus I take my hands away and let him collapse on the ground, which is enough to stir him from the momentary loss of consciousness. I grimace down at him in disgust, barely resisting the urge to kick him hard in the ribs, and turn on my heel to see how Clutter and Briony are faring now that they¡¯re free from the psychic¡¯s clutches.

    They¡¯re standing right there. Up against my shield. Pounding their fists against it as they open and close their mouths silently and a horrific spike of magic hovers just behind them. Cold jolts of fear drive deep into my spine as my brain struggles to find an explanation for what I¡¯m seeing.

    Pearl clenches her little fists. She looks like she¡¯s about to explode from keeping silent. Which she has to be doing for a reason. But¡­ she shouldn¡¯t have a reason to any more. Vesa is down for the count. Purification is removing the mental control debuff from Clutter and Briony. So¡­ why is she still quiet?

    And why is the spike still there?

    I swallow hard. Gears I really don¡¯t want to move start to click together, and the thoughts they¡¯re making spin blaze through my mind like a slideshow of options I don¡¯t want to admit could be possible. I turn back, stare down at a struggling Vesa, and feel that there¡¯s absolutely no magic coming off of him right now thanks to my purification.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Meaning¡­ he isn¡¯t controlling the spike. Nobody in the purification is.

    ¡°Shit.¡± I whisper, carefully kneeling down as I focus my awareness on the spike. ¡°Vesa. Talk to me.¡±

    He winces, but doesn¡¯t look away. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He whispers. ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t even realize what I was doing. Honestly. They¡­ they even made me forget my own class. How is that even possible?¡±

    Goddamn it. This is bad. ¡°Show me your Class Card.¡± I turn and dispel my shield. ¡°You two, too. Bring out your Class Cards right now.¡±

    All three of them make different practiced motions and summon their Class Cards. I quickly glance at Clutter¡¯s and Briony¡¯s, confirming that they¡¯re a Scout and a Transmuter, then hand the cards back and find myself staring at Vesa¡¯s card. My mouth goes dry as the word ¡®Mage¡¯ sears itself into my retinas, and a whole lot of other data backs it up to the point that I can¡¯t question it.

    ¡°Mother¡­ upstairs. Now.¡± I order as I bend down to help Vesa stand. ¡°Stay in the purification. If the real Psychic is using magic to ¡®see¡¯ us, it¡¯s the only thing preventing them from killing one of us.¡±

    Nods of understanding bob in unison, and Clutter ducks under Vesa¡¯s other arm to help me get him to the stairs. We give the needle a wide berth as we slowly walk as fast as my purifying mist can move. Stairs hold strong under Briony¡¯s feet, barely clunking under the weight of her armor, and I say a quiet ¡®thank-you¡¯ to the system for making a house that makes no sense.

    As we crest the top stair, Vesa growing more lucid by the second, my awareness buckles under a flood of magic so all-consuming and heavy that it feels like being crushed under a chunk of liquid despair. I stifle a yelp of surprise and summon a shield around all of us, reinforce it with another two shields, then drop a pair of purifications at my feet. Then, all I can do is watch as the Psychic¡¯s magic bears down.

    Cracks appear in my outermost shield before I can breathe. My mind strains as something seeps into those cracks and expands like thick foam, pressing them apart with a ravenous insistence to widen them as much as humanly possible. Each shield won¡¯t hold for more than a minute, and¡­ this attack feels different. The cracks aren¡¯t clean. When they break, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen after.

    Clutter taps my shoulder multiple times. I turn to see him opening and closing his mouth repeatedly as he points down his throat. I think I know what he¡¯s asking.

    ¡°Yes, you can talk. But keep it quiet.¡± I say in a hushed hurry. ¡°I don¡¯t know why my shields sometimes keep sound out, but this one should. Now¡­ what the hell are we supposed to do?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Vesa whispers apologetically. ¡°This is all my fault. I brought them here, and now the two of you are in danger, too.¡±

    Briony puts a sympathetic hand on Vesa¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s both of our faults. We let it happen and led them right to Clutter and¡­ I don¡¯t know if I should say her name.¡±

    ¡°Shelby.¡± I state flatly. ¡°No point hiding it if you two know it. Clutter, do you actually know these people, or were they just puppets?¡±

    Clutter narrows his eyes at Briony. He thinks long and hard about his answer¨Ctwo whole shields worth¨Cand it doesn¡¯t look like he¡¯s any closer to an answer. I put up a few more shields just to be safe, but the sensation¡­ it still feels like those destroyed shields are putting pressure on me. As if they exist, even though they¡¯re completely gone.

    ¡°I can¡¯t hold this back for much longer.¡± I mutter with a grimace. ¡°If you don¡¯t recognize them, just say so. We need to work together to get out of this safely even if they mean nothing to you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s not that.¡± Clutter grumbles. He shifts so his eyes meet mine, then looks away shyly. ¡°They¡¯re two of the people I told you about at the graveyard. Yesterday, when they came up to me, I¡­ didn¡¯t know what to do. Then everything went fuzzy, and I guess my memories got scrambled.¡±

    Briony nods in agreement. ¡°It was really subtle for me. I thought I was doing all this because I was asked to, but¡­ we were just hired to make sure Clutter was still safe and alive. Not kidnap him.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t subtle for me.¡± Vesa groans as he cradles his head. ¡°They made me forget my class. I¡­ they just used me as a scapegoat. If Shelby didn¡¯t have a spell that undoes mental manipulation, we¡­ I¡­¡±

    He swallows hard, then bends down and quietly retches. Nothing comes up, luckily, but I must''ve done a little more damage than I thought. As long as I can trust that my purification actually removed all the mind manipulation from them, I guess we can trust them. And if it didn''t¡­ well, then I lost from the second my skill wouldn¡¯t let Illumisia take them out.

    Wait. Illumisia. She followed Clutter¨Cshe should¡¯ve seen all this happen. Why didn¡¯t she warn me? Or say something, at least? Maybe it wasn¡¯t obvious at all. But I refuse to believe that someone as powerful as she is didn¡¯t at minimum get a bad feeling from what she saw.

    ¡°Shelby?¡± Clutter whispers.

    I shake my head. No time to think. ¡°We¡¯re up against a psychic at least. I¡¯m damn sure they should know where we are, since my shield should be a huge hole in their magic, but the needle¡¯s still downstairs.¡±

    ¡°Which means they can¡¯t ¡®feel¡¯ through their spells. They need some kind of¡­ other locator.¡± Briony finishes for me. ¡°Sound would make the most sense for a psychic, and thought, if we weren¡¯t protected by this¡­ stuff.¡±

    She waves a hand through my purifying mist for emphasis. ¡°I can¡¯t use magic because of it, but I think it¡¯s making our thoughts unreadable too. Or else we¡¯d probably be in a lot more danger right now.¡±

    I glance up at the cracks in my shield. If that¡¯s true, then the psychic¡¯s magic is doing this naturally¨Cand without alerting them that something¡¯s wrong. That¡¯s one terrifying spell.

    ¡°So¡­ um¡­ how are we supposed to do anything?¡± Clutter whispers. ¡°If we can¡¯t use magic, and we get mind controlled if we leave the safety of the salty mist, then how can we fight?¡±

    Vesa nods in agreement. ¡°He makes a very good point. Most low-level psychics can¡¯t create anything with their minds, but this one obviously can. Do we have anything that can work against them or¡­ can we run?¡±

    Both Vesa and Briony turn to Clutter. He, in turn, locks eyes with me.

    ¡°I can¡¯t use my spells from here; there needs to be a seamless connection between where I am and where I¡¯m going. So no caves, dungeons, closed doors, or¡­ shields.¡± He admits sheepishly. ¡°And then I need at least thirty seconds to get the spell activated. It just won¡¯t work. Plus¡­¡±

    Vesa raises an eyebrow. ¡°Plus what?¡±

    He covertly gestures at the ring on my finger so nobody else can see. A small smile creeps up the corners of my lips; he¡¯s still thinking about the quest, even now. Just in case the deadliest option is a possibility I try to send a thought of Illumisia, but my skill stops me dead in my tracks. Somehow, being on our own is the best way through this. For the quest.

    But, as I¡¯m slowly realizing, definitely not the best for our survival.

 Chapter 166: Allies, Burdens

    Weight builds on my mind, piling up little by little as my spells shatter and fail. Slowly but surely I pass over the last limit that did some serious damage to my mind, and that was with Pearl¡¯s help. My stats don¡¯t look good enough to warrant this kind of improvement, but¡­ maybe a few points are worth more than I thought.

    ¡°Options. We need options.¡± I ball my hands into fists and crush my thumbs inside. ¡°We don¡¯t have enough time or space for Clutter. I¡¯m assuming neither of you two have any kind of movement magic, or else you would¡¯ve spoken up by now. So if anyone¡¯s got any ideas, throw that shit at me, because right now we¡¯re just waiting to get mind-crushed.¡±

    I look around. None of them look away, but from their body languages, none of them seem to have anything they¡¯re confident in. Not much of a surprise, considering they¡¯ve probably never been in a magic-less situation like this before.

    ¡°Then we need to get ready to do something risky. Vesa, Briony; do you remember anything about whoever¡¯s attacking us? Anything at all is helpful.¡±

    Vesa shakes his head. ¡°Wherever they got me from, it wasn¡¯t anywhere I saw. And considering how much range they seem to have, there¡¯s a good chance they weren¡¯t close to us at all.¡±

    Shit. That¡¯s what I expected, but still. ¡°Briony? Anything at all?¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡± She apologizes with a hint of aggression. ¡°I should''ve been looking out for¡­ anything, really, but I was just so stupid. They even made us think someone was after Clutter, but now that I¡¯m thinking my own thoughts again, they didn¡¯t even give reasons for it. Just put a generic fear in my brain and let that do the work.¡±

    ¡°Oh! The¡­ the noise!¡± Vesa exclaims excitedly. ¡°That had to be them, right? Or if it wasn¡¯t them, someone else that might be able to help us!¡±

    Clutter and I share a covert glance. He raises an eyebrow, and I discreetly shake my head telling him to let them come to their own conclusions; it¡¯d be harder to explain that my skill isn¡¯t letting me do anything about it than just letting them realize that running into the street is impossible.

    So I just sit here. Waiting, listening, and watching as time ticks down. The strain on my awareness grows and grows, and the bubble of it around me shrinks with every shield that breaks. In a few minutes, I¡¯ll be down to my normal senses with a screaming headache and potential brain damage. I just¡­ don¡¯t know what to do.

    I lean back and rest my head against my innermost shield. The vibrations from the magic strum down into my core, and the siren song of utter control it promises is both terrifying and tantalizing. It¡¯s strange; even though I¡¯m facing down potential death, I¡¯m pretty damn calm. Maybe that¡¯s due to the psychic, or maybe my body just hasn¡¯t realized how close we really are.

    Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have the time to let myself realize. We have to work on assumptions. Things I can kind of take from how the psychic did what they did, why they did it like they did, and why they¡¯re doing what they¡¯re doing at this very second. None of it makes sense if their only desire was to kill me¨Cthey could¡¯ve done that yesterday. So, for some reason, they waited.

    ¡­They controlled Vesa and Briony into meeting with Clutter so they could plant strange memory blocks in him. Then they had him tracked all the way here, and if things had gone perfectly right, Vesa would¡¯ve dragged me away from here¨Call the way back to Palastia. At least if I can trust what they said to me, which is probably a lie, so¡­ just trust that they wanted me and Clutter out of here for some reason.

    We also know that the psychic can plant or blur out memories, make people completely freeze up, and apply a¡­ field¡­ that can at the very least do damage to other spells. They can also hear thoughts, but since we¡¯re sitting here fine, they can¡¯t feel through their spell or hear anyone that¡¯s being purified. Then there¡¯s the needle, which is probably just a needle, and¡­ I feel like I¡¯m forgetting something.

    I close my eyes, tune out the conversation, and focus. What am I missing? Nothing from how they controlled Clutter. Nothing from how they controlled Briony, other than the obvious that they can cause mental anguish. And¡­ Vesa. The¡­ he¡­ the handprint. He left a handprint to hold a door shut. Even if the psychic doesn¡¯t know exactly where we are in the house, they definitely know which house we¡¯re in. So why haven¡¯t they come knocking yet?

    ¡°Vesa.¡± I say as my eyes snap open. ¡°You put a handprint down to lock a door. Was that your spell, or the psychic¡¯s?¡±

    He frowns at the sudden question. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ mine. It¡¯s called ¡®mage body¡¯, and it lets me create force-based projections of my body parts. Is it still on the wall?¡±

    I motion for everyone to get ready to move. Turns out it¡¯s completely unnecessary, as everyone already started to move the second Vesa¡¯s question finished. We carefully slink to the edge of the loft and peer down at the door, where there¡¯s absolutely nothing holding it closed. No magic, no latch, nothing.

    ¡°So why the hell hasn¡¯t the psychic come in yet?¡± I mutter under my breath. ¡°This has to be costing them an insane amount of mana. And if they¡¯re so strong that mana doesn¡¯t matter to them, why haven¡¯t they just burst in and slaughtered us?¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    I steady my breathing and summon a relocation coin. Another shield shatters, and my awareness shrinks even further. All the connections to the relocation coins I left in Dell¡¯s apartment strain under the weight of my weakened mind and awareness. The only way I can see getting out of this is on my own.

    ¡°Clutter, Vesa, Briony. Is there any way the three of you can safely knock yourselves out for a few minutes?¡±

    Clutter shakes his head. Vesa and Briony exchange a worried look, but Briony slowly nods.

    ¡°I can transmute some of the chemicals in our bodies. But to do that, I need my magic¨Cand if I do that, then we¡¯re just easy targets for the psychic.¡± She glances down at the needle, still hovering in the air with the promise of violence, and gulps. ¡°Can you at least explain your plan first?¡±

    ¡°Guess I owe you that much.¡± I chuckle nervously. ¡°If all three of you get knocked out¨Cno thoughts at all¨Cthe psychic shouldn¡¯t know you¡¯re here. Then I¡¯ll go outside, draw their attention, and teleport out of their range so I actually have more shields to fight with.¡±

    Briony slowly nods along. ¡°What happens after that?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°We hope I¡¯m a natural counter to psychics when I can actually see them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it? You just¡­ hope?¡± Briony¡¯s voice grows quiet. ¡°How can we let you take on all the risk? You¡¯re the only one who isn¡¯t responsible for us being in this mess.¡±

    ¡°Technically, I could be the only reason we¡¯re in this mess.¡± I wince as another shield breaks, then plant a hand on Briony¡¯s shoulder. ¡°If you come to and the fight isn¡¯t over, only help if you¡¯re confident you won¡¯t get mind controlled again. Can you three do that for me?¡±

    Squirming reluctantce fills the silence. Clutter and Vesa both stare at Briony, who won¡¯t take her helmet away from my gaze. She mumbles something that sounds like words of self-encouragement under her breath, squares her shoulders, and nods with as much confidence as she can muster.

    Perfect. I send the mist away, then gesture vigorously for her to get on with it. She lunges at Clutter and Vesa, plants a palm on each of their faces, and pours a steady stream of magic that feels like change itself into their bodies. Four eyes roll back within seconds, and she catches the pair before their limp bodies can hit the ground. Then she turns to me, grabs my wrist, and laughs nervously.

    ¡°Sorry for all this.¡± She whispers. ¡°Hopefully this helps.¡±

    A spike of adrenaline surges from the pit of my stomach. My heart beats faster and faster, spurred on by a roar of magic that rips out of Briony¡¯s hand and fills me with unrestrained might. I gasp in surprise as my awareness blossoms, almost like Pearl herself was empowering it, and the connection to my coins becomes razor-sharp.

    ¡°What is this?¡± I wonder aloud as I look at the back of my hands, veins overgorged with blood and throbbing to a heartbeat that has to be at least 200 BPM. ¡°It feels like I¡¯m so alive that I¡¯m about to die.¡±

    Briony laughs weakly. Very, very weakly. ¡°You¡¯re not going to die. I just gave you almost all the vitality I had left. Goodnight, and good luck.¡±

    Without another word, she wraps a hand around her neck and pulses magic into her throat. Her body goes perfectly limp and falls right next to the others. I lick the inside of my teeth, feeling the jagged edges cut slightly into my tongue, and carefully dispel the shield around them. The magic shivers, confused that it no longer pushes against anything, and before it can close in on me I throw up another shield that only protects me.

    Like air filling a vacuum, the magic suddenly and violently occupies the space it hadn¡¯t before. I grit my teeth and watch as the unconscious bodies are covered in it, but¡­ nothing happens. The magic touches them the same way it touches the floor and stairs. Whatever Briony did, it made them unrecognizable to the magic.

    ¡°Thank god.¡± I sigh in relief. ¡°Now all that¡¯s left is the hard part.¡±

    I pull out my Class Card and swipe over to my buffs to see what the system says Briony did to me.

    Vitality Transfer

    You have been granted the remaining vitality from (Briony).

    Forces your body into overdrive, increasing vitality by 100% and exhaustion rate by 200%.

    Duration: 582s

    Two times as much energy and three times the exertion. So it isn¡¯t going to make my spells any more powerful¨Cit¡¯ll just let me control more of them at the same time. And if the psychic keeps pushing me, I¡¯ll get closer to a state of zero awareness three times as fast as before. Damn am I glad I checked this before running into the street feeling like I¡¯m invincible.

    I turn to Briony¡¯s body and give her a nod of thanks, then make my way down the stairs three at a time. The spike of psychic energy wobbles ever so slightly now that I¡¯m not purified, trailing slowly in my direction as the psychic gets a slight static-like buzz from my thoughts. I shudder and look away, pressing my hand to the door as images of the countless possibilities flash before my eyes.

    Most of them are horrible. I throw open the door anyway, pressing a projectile coin against my thumb and a relocation coin right on top of it. Before I can see anything I launch the projectile up and over the house, strong and long-lasting, carrying with it the relocation. A metallic taste blossoms at the back of my tongue, like biting down on a rusty dentist¡¯s mirror, and my awareness screams danger from the right.

    I throw myself from the house and into the street. A mass of magic shears through where I was just standing, screaming and pulsing like a migraine mixed with a drill sergeant¡¯s tear-down. My mind prickles in fear as I scramble to my feet, and I scan the streets for any signs of life.

    Someone is in the middle of the street. An obviously unhuman man with jet black skin marked with yellow-orange stripes, ears like a cat¡¯s, and piercing slit-eyes that shimmer with an inner light. He smiles, revealing pointed teeth and two saber-like fangs that were somehow hidden in his jaw. With no movement from anything below his neck, he starts to speak

    ¡°You must be Shelby.¡± He rumbles as actual yellow-orange smoke rises out of the corners of his mouth. ¡°I do apologize for the intensity of our first meeting. Now, would you do me the honours of fighting until one of us dies?¡±

 Chapter 167: Precise, Controlled Destruction

    Warm, trickling fear pours over my mind. This¡­ person¡­ doesn¡¯t feel like the psychic. All the magic warps and bends around him like light through water, refusing to even touch his form. I swallow hard and summon coins into my hand, each of them filled with the most powerful shields and projectiles that I can easily produce.

    Shit, do I wish I¡¯d worked harder on finding a way to cheat my new odds.

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± I demand, and luckily, my voice doesn¡¯t shake. ¡°You¡¯re not the psychic.¡±

    He cocks his head to the side and grins. ¡°So you can feel it. Wonderful. No, the psychic you reference is my ally¨Cand no, before you ask, I will not be telling them to lower their magic. One¡¯s allies must be factored into their own strength, do you not agree?¡±

    I glance back at the house. ¡°If you aren¡¯t going to, at least¨C¡±

    ¡°Tsk, tsk, tsk. If one¡¯s allies are part of their strength, then is it not also fair to say that they are part of one¡¯s weaknesses?¡± He motions with one hand at the house, the rest of his body remaining perfectly still. ¡°Leave them to die if you don¡¯t want to be burdened with their existence. Otherwise, you have to fight with the knowledge of the burden that they are. Oh, but where are my manners; I know you, the painted dane, and that shell on your head¨Cyet you must be so confused as to who I am.¡±

    He sweeps his arm low and bends his back in a bow, his eyes never once leaving mine. ¡°I am Ashmaw, fourth kit of Rendclaw and Hollowfang. Though Stonestep Solutions has purchased my time, I hold them no loyalty beyond the hunts they provide me.¡±

    ¡°Ashmaw? Kit?¡± I shift a step back, focusing on the sensation of my relocation spiraling into the distance. It¡¯s useless now that I know what the psychic will do once I leave. ¡°Are you some kind of demon?¡±

    ¡°Demon? No, no¨CI am a proud Gris. If you survive, I would recommend looking into my people¡¯s history. It is quite interesting.¡± His grin widens, nearly splitting his face in half as more smoke billows out. ¡°But can you afford to waste precious seconds with this idle chatter? From where I stand, it seems that merely existing is taking quite the effort for you.¡±

    He knows. Hell if I know how, but he knows. Were all my assumptions wrong? Is the only reason the psychic didn¡¯t instantly murder all of us because this¡­ cat-demon¡­ wanted to fight me one-on-one?

    I reach up and tap Pearl¡¯s shell. If I¡¯m going to get out of this alive, I can¡¯t do it alone.

    ¡°Ah, finally taking me seriously. Thank you.¡± Ashmaw says seriously. ¡°I hate it when my prey rolls over and dies. It does so take the joy out of watching life bleed from their eyes.¡±

    Pearl shudders, glances at me, and sets her jaw. ¡°Well, if they already know, then there¡¯s no point in hiding it. I can¡¯t feel the psychic anywhere near here¨Cthey¡¯re strong enough that they can outrange my awareness. Gasp definitely wasn¡¯t this powerful.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me that.¡± I mutter under my breath. ¡°Can you get a feel on whatever the hell this guy is?¡±

    Ashmaw sighs. ¡°As I told you, I am a Gris. Would you prefer I tell you my class as well? Though I must warn you¨CI will take something from you of equal value to that information.¡±

    I gulp and shake my head. ¡°I¡¯ll gather my own info, thanks.¡±

    He nods. ¡°Very well. You wouldn¡¯t be much of a challenge without your legs, anyway.¡±

    That¡¯s one hell of a threat. Even though I haven¡¯t seen him use a single ounce of magic yet, something tells me that he¡¯s got the power to follow through with it.

    ¡°I honestly can¡¯t tell anything.¡± Pearl hisses through her teeth. ¡°He feels like those masked jerks. But not¡­ well¡­ masked.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was afraid of.¡± I lock eyes with Ashmaw and flex my fingers. ¡°Well, thanks for all the extra time. Guess we should do this.¡±

    ¡°Ah, thank you.¡± Ashmaw bares his teeth at me. ¡°I was waiting for that.¡±

    He turns his body to the side, almost like an olympic fencer, and stretches out one arm. The other tucks behind his back, curled into a fist from which a little magic begins to spill. With an upturned, flat palm, he gently brings his hand through the air as if wiping the underside of a glass bowl.

    My awareness screams. A horrendous image of my body sliced in two flashes before my eyes as thin lines of magic appear over and around me in a perfect¨Cbut larger¨Cmirror of Ashmaw¡¯s motion. I kick off backwards to get out of the way, and¨C

    White hot, unambiguous death scythes through where I was standing a second ago. The very air screams and bubbles as any moisture in it is thoroughly annihilated, and even when the main spell dissipates, it leaves behind a charred scar in existence that hurts to look at. And would definitely hurt to touch.

    ¡°That¡¯s horrible.¡± Pearl murmurs in wide-eyed awe. ¡°Raw destruction that powerful was rare even back before I got trapped. Too bad he wants to kill you.¡±

    Yeah, too bad. I toss two projectiles at Ashmaw, triggering them just moments before the coins touch his skin. He separates his thumb and pinky from the slab that was his palm, and two swirls of destruction erupt on top of my projectiles. Sparks and cracks flicker in the air as they clash for all of five seconds, and when the dust settles, only his destruction remains.

    I grimace and start backpedaling. If that did absolutely nothing, then I have to get him away from Clutter and the others before I start throwing shit that could have collateral damage. He follows me for one step. Two steps. Then he curls his pinky and index finger inward before thrusting the remaining fingers in my direction.

    Two simmering webs of cracks fill the air, each at least twelve feet wide and brimming with the promise of death. My heart pounds in my chest as I stare down these promises of destruction. Pearl¡¯s scream fills my mind, wordless and pleading for me to move. Instinct and reactions take over as I summon three shields directly in front of me, and as they manifest, I flick a relocation coin up and over the top of the webs.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Burning white fills my vision. Heat bubbles from the stuff like the surface of the sun, and all moisture disappears in a heartbeat. My lips chap, the tips of my fingers start to crack, and I have to close my eyes to keep them from burning. The first shield breaks the instant the magic touches it. My second doesn''t hold up much longer¨Chalf a breath of boiling air at most. As the third one cracks and the heat somehow grows even more intense, I latch onto the relocation coin and pull with all my might.

    I feel my last shield shatter as relocation pulls me away. Blissful moisture meets my face and I wrench open my eyes a good eighty feet in the air. Before gravity takes me I scan the entirety of the town from up here¨Cthe buildings, the road, and absolutely no sign of the psychic. My eyes meet Illumisia¡¯s, who stands on top of the bank like a gargoyle, and she bares her teeth with seething anger.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± I apologize as the wind whips through my very dry clothes. ¡°Damn skill thinks this is right.¡±

    She sneers and looks away, but not fully. A weird mixture of guilt, annoyance, and fear writhes in my gut as I turn my full attention back to Ashmaw, whose neck is craned skyward so he can stare at me. He sharply and exactly turns to aim his fingertips directly at my chest, and as he curls his middle finger upwards, only a single web of cracks appears in the air. Perfectly between me and him.

    ¡°Is this actually fire? Or is it something else?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°I can¡¯t tell¨Cwhatever it is, it¡¯s extremely hot, so be even more careful than you¡¯re being right now!¡±

    I nod and whip a relocation past Ashmaw. He turns like a mannequin and aims his finger at the dropping coin as the web of cracks I¡¯m falling towards grows even brighter. I throw two more relocation coins at the ground, fully expecting Ashmaw to spin around and leave two more webs of cracks aimed at the other coins.

    But¡­ he doesn¡¯t. I frown in surprise and pull myself to the coin that¡¯s almost at the ground just a few inches from him, and only then does he whip around with an unchanged look on his face. Projectiles fill my palm moments before I slam it into his chest, ignite them with the shortest-lived and strongest spells I can manage, and relocate to the other coin I threw a dozen feet towards another random house.

    Magic blossoms in a cacophony of noise. Heat, destruction, and salt clash for supremacy. Light fills my eyes as my awareness struggles to see through the magic, and just as my projectiles clear up, a rhythmic impact rings out from where Ashmaw was standing. Almost like¡­ someone clapping.

    ¡°Bravo! Bravo, indeed!¡± He steps out from the blur, completely unharmed, and clapping like he just watched a thrilling stage play. ¡°In the smallest of moments, you identified and took advantage of my weakness without hesitation. Even with the awareness of a shellraiser on your side, that is no easy feat¨Cespecially not when said shellraiser is heavily limited by the system. Alas, it would seem that your magic cannot hurt me.¡±

    He sighs and shakes his head. ¡°Truly, truly a pity.¡±

    Heat erupts around me in a perfect ring without so much as a motion from Ashmaw. I flinch in surprise and almost step back, but the sensation of heat at the back of my neck stops me dead in my tracks. Was he just screwing with me? No¨Cif that¡¯s true, then I don¡¯t have a chance. I need to believe that I can get out of this. And that starts with¡­ with¡­

    What the hell happened to my third coin? I can feel it, but it¡¯s¡­ wrong. The spell¡¯s leaking out into the world, and the coin¡¯s just a melted pile of useless nothing.

    ¡°He can destroy my coins.¡± I state in stunned disbelief. The roaring heat instantly dries my tongue. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was possible.¡±

    ¡°It is very possible.¡± Ashmaw¡¯s voice carries easily through the roar. ¡°I am simply far more powerful than you are. Considering your run-in with a few of my masked¡­ I suppose I can call them co-workers¡­ I thought you would be more prepared for absolute failure.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t prepare for something I wasn¡¯t even expecting.¡± I mutter and summon two more shield coins. ¡°Before this, I thought this was going to be a half-hour excursion. Not whatever the hell it¡¯s turned into.¡±

    I drop a relocation at my feet, then put two extremely compact skeletal-quarter shields around it. Hopefully that¡¯ll hold. Then I latch onto the coin in the distance, grit my teeth, and hope against hope that Ashmaw won¡¯t instantly go for Clutter and the others.

    The world screams by. I land between two random buildings, neither of which I¡¯ve explored, and whip around to face the column of destruction that rises high into the sky. The second that disappears, I¡¯m going back in. If it doesn¡¯t¡­ then I don¡¯t know what the hell I¡¯m supposed to do.

    Torturously slow seconds crawl by. My breaths come heavier and quicker as my awareness starts to collapse once more. I¡¯ve got a minute or two left of this in me. Maybe less if I have to throw around a ton of projectiles and shields. But before any of that¡­ I need to find a way to remove Clutter and the others from this equation.

    ¡°Illumisa.¡±

    A blood-red shadow coats the ground. It opens its mouth and sighs. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Take these coins and touch them to each of the people in the house.¡± I summon three relocation coins and drop them onto her. ¡°Then run as far away as you can. Once you¡¯re out of the psychic¡¯s range send me some kind of signal and I¡¯ll get them out of here.¡±

    She looks back at the coins with a frown. ¡°I could just take them away, so you are aware. It would save you precious brain power. Or¡­ if you say yes right now, I can deal with your little problem.¡±

    I swallow hard. The word dangles from the tip of my tongue, but I can¡¯t say it. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you to protect me.¡±

    ¡°That is a problem.¡± She shudders, and the coins dissolve into her form. ¡°I suppose I should wish you luck.¡±

    She disappears without another word. I stare up at the sky and the burning pillar of molten white destruction, sweat beading on my forehead like stressful rain. My awareness barely reaches the closest roof, and if I look closely, I can see it shrinking with every one of my breaths.

    Warmth tickles the back of my neck. Burning danger fills my veins as my awareness recognizes something¡­ up above? I crane my neck skywards, and my shoulders sag in an admission of defeat.

    Painting the sky in a shade of wrong, like staring up at cracking ice from inside a freezing lake, are thousands upon thousands of cracks. Each of my coins flickers slightly as Illumisia touches them to one of my allies, but it doesn¡¯t matter. If she leaves them right now, they¡¯ll all die horribly. So she¡¯ll take them on her back and run.

    Just like I want to. But my feet won¡¯t move. I latch onto the coin in Dell¡¯s apartment and pull¨Cbut my spell doesn¡¯t activate. Not for a lack of energy. From my skill preventing its use.

    ¡°Is this quest even worth it?¡± I whisper into the drying air. ¡°It¡¯s just some rewards and a little adventure. Not something worth dying over!¡±

    Nothing. No response. My feet won¡¯t even let me move¨Capparently this is exactly where my skill wants me to be. Or maybe it knows that if I could move, I¡¯d run like hell and never look back at a piece of squirming plastic for the rest of my life. Instead, I close my eyes and let my hands drape limply at my sides.

    The heat grows. And grows. It intensifies to the point that I¡¯m reminded of being mummified by the beacon, but even that didn¡¯t kill me. I feel an awkward smile tug at my lips, and a dry, humourless laugh hisses into the scorching air. If this is how I¡¯m going to die, at least it¡¯s a little funny in a morbid kind of way.

    ¡°Why are you laughing?¡±

    Ashmaw¡¯s voice is loud, clear, and crackling with¡­ frustration? I crack open an eye and look at him standing just a few feet away¨Cshimmering in the extreme heat like some hateful mirage. He¡¯s still as unmoving as before, but his face¡­ there¡¯s something bothering him.

    Me.

    Maybe¡­ maybe I can weasel my way out of this somehow. But I need to think of something that can convince a guy I know literally nothing about¨Cand fast. My life depends on it.

 Chapter 168: A Very Dry Silver Tongue

    I turn to Ashmaw and bear my teeth. ¡°The system is screwing me over. I can¡¯t move from this spot.¡±

    His eyebrows shoot to his forehead. ¡°That is quite far-fetched. From where I stand, it is far more likely that you have given up, and that laughter is at your own uselessness.¡±

    ¡°Wow, thanks for the compliment.¡± I shake my head and jab a thumb back in the direction of the house. ¡°I can still feel the coin I set down under some strong shields. If I could¡¯ve actually moved, I would¡¯ve teleported to it and launched one last desperate attack before teleporting away again.¡±

    Ashmaw nods. ¡°I surmised as much when I saw the shields.¡±

    ¡­Oh. Shit. Is that why my skill stopped me? Not because I was going to run away, but because my plan would¡¯ve gotten me killed? No¡­ no. It didn¡¯t let me teleport to Dell¡¯s either. Both can be true at the same time, though, I guess.

    ¡°Well, then, I guess you would¡¯ve won. Want to kill me now and get it over with, or are you going to torch this place to the ground?¡±

    ¡°You are confusing. Initially, I thought you were the type to die pointlessly defending your allies¡ªand then I thought you the type to abandon them at the first sign of danger. Yet here you stand before me¨Csomehow confirming nor denying either of my suspicions.¡± He taps his foot in the largest show of casual motion I¡¯ve seen from him. ¡°Do you cede that I am more powerful than you?¡±

    I snort in surprise. ¡°You kidding me? Did you not see what you did to the damn sky?¡± I wave a hand at the shattered sky. ¡°The most I can do is throw some projectiles, make some shields, and teleport in a very predictable fashion. Reducing a city to rubble is way over my pay grade.¡±

    Ashmaw¡¯s frown only deepens for some reason. He studies me with the eye of a teacher that¡¯s not sure what to do with a misbehaving student once they¡¯ve heard their side of the story¨Cwhich is way better than him just killing me. Maybe this is actually working somehow. But I can¡¯t let him get¡­ bored, or annoyed, or just randomly decide I¡¯m not interesting enough to live. I need to know exactly what he wants from me so I can play to that.

    ¡°What do you want from me, Ashmaw?¡± I ask directly. ¡°You¡¯re obviously not just with Stonestep Solutions, or else I¡¯d be dead and gone already; so what¡¯s keeping those cracks from erupting and killing me dead?¡±

    ¡°Unnecessary. ¡®Killing you dead¡¯, as you say, is merely restating the point that is clearly made by the word ¡®kill¡¯.¡± He says with his focus obviously elsewhere. ¡°You have caught my eye, miss Shelby. The poor human you took over must be screaming from inside whatever cage of a mind you keep her in.¡±

    With a click of his tongue and a hiss of smoke, he raises the hand he isn¡¯t keeping behind his back and snaps his fingers. Most of the cracks disappear from the sky¨Csave for the ones over us, the house, and a random one off in the distance. Ashmaw closes the distance between us in a single stride and tenderly brushes Pearl¡¯s shell with his fingertips.

    ¡°Ah, I so wish I could have seen you alive¡­ yet even as a remnant, you carry such strength.¡± He sighs wistfully. ¡°Alas, I was born too late to experience the majesty of a being that resisted the system at the height of its power.¡±

    I stare blankly at Ashmaw, confusion slowly bleeding away into realization. ¡°The hell did Stonestep Solutions tell you about me?¡±

    He lets his hand fall and steps away mournfully. ¡°Nothing but the truth. That a long-dead Shellraiser took over a poor human, and that their consciousnesses have merged in an imperfect harmony.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ no. I¡¯m me. Shelby.¡± I pat my chest, then reach up to the shell. ¡°This is Pearl. Short for something else I¡¯m not sure I can tell you. She¡¯s inside the shell, but she¡¯s a complete living being. Not a¡­ spirit, or whatever you think she is.¡±

    Ashmaw¡¯s eyes widen, and he throws back his head in a hearty laugh. ¡°Ha-ha! Using humor as a way to bargain for your life. I have yet to see that¨Cthank you for the laugh. Your death will leave a long-lasting impression for that alone.¡±

    I scramble to tap Pearl''s shell again as the crack above gets¡­ hot. ¡°No, no, no; wait wait wait. I can prove it to you! Pearl, come out for a second.¡±

    He stops laughing instantly. ¡°Insistence on a joke makes it far less humorous. Now your memory will be¡­ tainted¡­ by¡­¡±

    Pearl crawls out of her Shell, confident and glistening. Ashmaw falls perfectly silent, his eyes glazing over as if going blind in real-time. He reaches up with both hands and rubs them vigorously, then swallows hard and looks away.

    ¡°I have not felt the system¡¯s censorship in¡­ years.¡± He murmurs in awe. ¡°To show me something the system still thinks I should not see¡­ there are very, very few things I can safely assume it to be. One of which is that you are telling me the truth. Which would mean that the system thinks the knowledge that a shellrasier exists is fine to know, but that actually seeing it¨Cno, them¨Cis not¡­ how fascinating. You, Shelby¨Care you not affected by this?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps it is because you are not native to this world. I¡­ perhaps I was too hasty.¡± He smiles, sending a chill down my spine as the two cracks closest to us disappear. ¡°In all my hunts, I never thought I would be able to kill a shellraiser. Are you bound to this human¡­ Pearl?¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Pearl bristles at Ashmaw saying her name. ¡°I hate this guy.¡±

    Ashmaw winces, then sighs in exhilaration. ¡°Ah, how my mind prickles at the unknowable. How divine to be blessed by the pains of what the system does not want me to know. What did she say, Shelby? Please do not leave anything out.¡±

    ¡°She said she hates you.¡±

    ¡°Does she? How wonderful!¡± A vibrant orange tongue snakes out of Ashmaw¡¯s mouth and runs over his lips. ¡°I so hate when my prey comes to like me. Their screams are never quite as¡­ satisfying.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I definitely hate this guy.¡± Pearl mutters. ¡°We should run, Sheby. He put his guard down and Illumisia has the others. There¡¯s nothing left here for us.¡±

    ¡°We definitely should.¡± I agree, but my body doesn¡¯t. ¡°So¡­ what happens now, Ashmaw?¡±

    He cocks his head even further to the side until his ear touches his shoulder. ¡°Why, nothing has changed. I kill you, take a trophy, and become the sole being who can say that they killed a shellraiser since the days of old. Though I am considering how best to end you so that I can keep the trophy intact¡­¡±

    I shudder as he shifts his head from side to side, knocking his skull against his shoulders at an increasingly violent pace. To say the guy has a few screws loose might be an understatement, or maybe these ¡®gris¡¯ are all like this, but it definitely doesn¡¯t work in my favor.

    ¡°You know, if you let me go, you could fight Pearl later when she¡¯s much stronger. What good is a hunt if you don¡¯t have a harrowing tale of the fight to go along with it?¡± I spread my hands in a show of peace. ¡°Just think of it; you wouldn¡¯t just be the first person to kill a shellraiser¨Cyou¡¯d be the first one to fight one on even ground and come away victorious.¡±

    He shakes his head while it bobs from side to side. Without even considering what I said for a second. ¡°I can make something up. As long as I have the shell and remnants for proof, there will be no doubt. Just think of it¡­ I will spin the truth that everyone remembers. Ooohhh¡­ it gives me the shivers.¡±

    Disgust writes itself onto my face; this guy isn¡¯t just a hunter, he¡¯s the worst kind of hunter. Back on Earth, he¡¯d go out in a jeep with a bunch of other people and stalk a lion for days, exhausting it without an ounce of his own skill, then take the easiest shot in the world and brag like he ran it down with his own two legs. And without anyone around to prove him wrong, his word becomes the truth.

    Pearl will be remembered how he sees fit. I won¡¯t allow that. I¡­ wait. We aren¡¯t alone. The constant magic scratching at my mind is proof of it.

    ¡°Too bad the psychic is here. Or else you¡¯d get to make up whatever heroic story you want.¡± I sigh in false sympathy and turn to look in the direction of the magic. ¡°But with them here, all you¡¯ll be remembered as is the guy who killed a human and claimed he fought a shellraiser.¡±

    I smile coldly and clasp my hands behind my back, watching as Ashmaw¡¯s oscillating neck comes to a stop. His smile is gone, and his tongue slithers back into his mouth.

    ¡°Do you think they¡¯re constantly reporting back to Stonestep Solutions, or are they cut off right now? Because if I were them, I¡¯d be pretty damn terrified of the conversation I¡¯m overhearing.¡± The magic around me dips, and the air gap around Ashmaw disappears. ¡°Oh, would you look at that. The psychic just told us they haven¡¯t contacted Stonestep Solutions yet. If you hurry, you might get to them before they send the message.¡±

    Pearl laughs cruelly as all the remaining joy leaves Ashmaw¡¯s face. ¡°Aw, look at him! He¡¯s figured out that having even one bystander means he can¡¯t push the story he wants. Too bad, too bad.¡±

    Ashmaw¡¯s lips curl into a snarl. ¡°Stonestep Solutions wants you dead more than anything. The psychic will corroborate my story if it means you are dealt with. All that I need is confirmation and the both of you will cease to exist.¡±

    I raise my chin ever so slightly. ¡°It also means that if said confirmation never comes, then you can¡¯t kill me. Because then you¡¯ll never get the chance to claim you hunted a shellraiser¨Cjust that you killed one that couldn¡¯t even defend herself. The last of a species, put down just for some freak¡¯s sick amusement.¡±

    ¡°Tsk, tsk, tsk.¡± Pearl shakes her head and waggles a finger at Ashmaw. ¡°I¡¯m just a poor, defenseless little shellraiser. Killing me would be about as hard as filleting a fish that¡¯s already dead. Not great for the kind of story you¡¯re trying to tell.¡±

    ¡°I have no idea what she is saying, yet I feel that our hate is now reciprocal.¡± Ashmaw seethes. ¡°So be it. The human dies now and the shellraiser dies publicly when she is powerful enough to put up a mediocre fight.¡±

    ¡°Whoah, there. We¡¯re a package deal. You kill me and Pearl dies, too. Swear on my life.¡± I put a hand over my heart with the most serious face I can manage. ¡°Give us a couple of years, then I¡¯ll give you the hunt you¡¯re looking for. Of course, Stonestep Solutions wants me dead right now, and I can feel the psychic trying to do something¡­¡±

    Ashmaw growls and flicks his fingers. Heat and light erupts in the distance, so intense that I have to look away. Before the light can fade, the psychic¡¯s magic dies. I let the lump in my throat linger as Ashmaw plants a hand on my shoulder opposite Pearl and pushes his face less than an inch from mine.

    ¡°You have disgraced me, Shelby the human and Pearl the shellraiser. I do not forget such¡­ slights.¡± He hisses, trailing the last ¡®s¡¯ into a click of his teeth. ¡°When the time comes, I will kill you violently and publicly. Perhaps Palastia or another city will fall in our battle. And when it is done, I will parade your severed head and Pearl¡¯s crystallized remains around with pride and victory unseen to this day. And so you never forget¡­¡±

    He grabs my forearm without Clamber¡¯s armlet and grips it tight. Heat sears into my flesh, but the pain is nowhere close to the worst I¡¯ve felt. My eyes might water, but he doesn¡¯t get a single sound or flinch out of me. And when he steps back, the skin under where he touched pulses and writhes like a mass of worms.

    ¡°Your lives are mine.¡± He says as if stating a fact. ¡°If you die before I claim them, I will hunt you down in whatever afterlife may exist and grant you eternal torment.¡±

    A blast of utter destruction rises from the roof, and before I can raise a hand to block the light, it disappears. Taking Ashmaw with it. I ball my hands into fists and breathe a shaky sigh of relief; it isn¡¯t technically a victory, but the psychic is dead and Ashmaw left. That¡¯s about the best outcome I could¡¯ve hoped for.

    I unclench one fist and reach up to rub the irritated skin. There¡¯s no magic coming from it, and I can already feel Illumisia¡¯s gifted immune system vigorously attacking it. If it was supposed to be a tracking mark, then he made a huge mistake.

    Because the second this quest is done, and my skill isn¡¯t actively screwing me over, Illumisia gets unlocked. And he¡¯s definitely target number one.

 Chapter 169: Thirty More Minutes

    ¡°Congratulations.¡±

    I turn at the sound of Illumisia¡¯s dry sarcasm. Clutter, Briony, and Vesa all cling to her back like traumatized possums, their bodies slowly shaking as they roll off of her. With a deep breath I dismiss all the connected spells I no longer need, then drop a purification at my feet to get rid of the extra drain from Briony¡¯s spell.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t feel like a victory, but I guess the fact that we¡¯re all alive will have to do.¡± I grimace as the weight of the last few minutes settles with the departure of Briony¡¯s aid. ¡°So¨Canyone have any idea why my skill thought that letting Illumisia kill those two would steer us away from the quest?¡±

    Clutter nods as he gets to his feet. ¡°If Ashmaw fought Illumisia, he would¡¯ve destroyed everything around here before he died. Even if Illumisia saved all of us, I doubt she would¡¯ve done the same for a bunch of buildings.¡±

    The shark-wolf in question grunts confirmation. ¡°He is completely right. Which is confirmation for us that this place holds a key to gaining access to that quest.¡±

    ¡°True, true. Illumisia, can you run through here as quickly as you can to see if there¡¯s any mention of a Merywell Den or a Well Denmary? Maybe the system left some mentions to them here, and that¡¯s what we¡¯re supposed to find.¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course.¡± She shakes, and dozens of blood red duplicates burst free in all directions. ¡°I should have done this immediately, but the risk of the discovery being attributed to me was too great. Now I fear we do not have the time to worry about such trivial things.¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°My skill let me say that, so whatever you do isn¡¯t going to mess up our chances. Clutter, now that you¡¯ve got your mind back, do you remember anything important? I think you said something about a well before¨Cthat could be where the map¡¯s trying to lead us.¡±

    ¡°Actually, yes! It should be a little bit away, but if the well¡¯s the important thing, why¡¯d the system go through the trouble of remaking the entire town?¡± He rubs his chin as he stares off into the distance thoughtfully. ¡°Do you think this was all one big trick to get us to think the town was more important than it is? Heck, it could¡¯ve even left some of the wreckage from the old town just to really confuse us into thinking there¡¯s a mystery to solve. Oooh, ooh¨Cor whatever we¡¯re seeing here is going to be important in the quest, so we¡¯ll come to, like, an old set of ruins and I¡¯ll go ¡®wow, I kind of feel like we¡¯ve been here before¡¯ and then you¡¯ll go ¡®that¡¯s because they¡¯re exactly like the ruins we saw before the quest started, Clutter¡¯.¡±

    He nods to himself as we all stare at him. It takes him a good dozen seconds to notice, and the bush creeping onto his face takes another dozen to fully realize.

    ¡°Or, um, it could be something else.¡± He says sheepishly. ¡°Which¡­ anyone else can chime in now with a new theory. Did¡­ um¡­ did I talk too much there? Aw, did I screw up the mood again?¡±

    I chuckle and pat him on the shoulder. ¡°You got a little too fast there at the end, but we got the general idea. Think you can make a quick and dirty map of all the places here that don¡¯t look like they were repaired by the system?¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course I can do that! Easily!¡± His tail wags as he speaks, and his embarrassment is almost instantly overwritten with bright enthusiasm. ¡°Just give me¡­ thirty minutes! To an hour! I¡¯ll have everything mapped out, and then we can go check on that well!¡±

    Before I can add anything else, he turns and scampers away with his tail swishing through the air. I sigh fondly and shake my head, then turn my attention to Briony and Vesa¨Cwho¡¯ve said absolutely nothing since they fell off Illumisia¡¯s back. They aren¡¯t my allies, but I don¡¯t think they¡¯re my enemies either¨Cand now we have to sort out what happens next.

    ¡°Clutter¡¯s coming with me into the quest.¡± I say forcefully. ¡°If you two want to take him, you can do that once we¡¯re done, and with his permission. Hell, I¡¯ll come with you if you need someone else to explain why you¡¯re going back empty-handed. Or¡­ wait¡­ was all that just the dead psychic¡¯s mind manipulation?¡±

    Vesa¡¯s eyes widen. ¡°The psychic¡¯s dead? When did that happen?¡±

    ¡°With the¡­ giant¡­ were neither of you paying attention?¡±

    This time, they both shake their heads. I sigh and let my shoulders slump, then walk up to them and drop into a kneel. ¡°Ashmaw, that¡¯s the guy with all the destruction stuff, killed the psychic when I pointed some stuff out to him. So now that they¡¯re dead, you¡¯re safe. All of us are safe. But you two need to learn how to defend against psychics before something like this happens again.¡±

    Briony vigorously nods in agreement. ¡°Maybe I can transmute my armor into something that blocks spells. Or, if it really comes down to it, I could try altering my skull itself. I¡¯ve been a little¡­ scared of trying to permanently alter anything living.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m living proof that it can be done.¡± I pat the bite mark on my neck for emphasis. ¡°Just experiment on yourself first so that the only one who dies if you screw up is you.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Pfft, of course. I can¡¯t monitor other people as well as I can myself.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised how many people have the exact opposite view. How about you, Vesa?¡± I turn my attention to him with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Anything in the mage handbook that can protect you?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. But I¡¯ll have to find something.¡± He swallows hard and puts on a brave face. ¡°If I want to help you and Clutter, I can¡¯t risk being a danger to you.¡±

    Wait, help me and Clutter? The hell is he talking about? I could¡¯ve sworn he said something about having someone to report to, and if he¡¯s talking about right now, neither he nor Briony are in any shape to do¡­ well, anything. He¡¯s got messed up hands and probably some broken bones thanks to me, and Briony has to be on the brink of exhaustion.

    ¡°Not that I¡¯m unhappy to hear that, but what do you think you can help us with?¡±

    Briony tries to sit up straight, but her body won¡¯t let her. ¡°We can do a lot. You¡¯re a human, and you¡¯re not with HuSt or the Preservation, so you probably want friends. Er, ¡®allies¡¯, is probably a better word for it. We might not be the biggest organization, but we¡¯ve got people working across the world. As long as I can convince a few people, it should be easy to help you out.¡±

    ¡°And your organization¡¯s called¡­?¡±

    ¡°__________________!¡±

    Censorship smacks me upside the head and leaves me wide-eyed with surprise. I blink a few times, then turn to Vesa.

    ¡°For no reason at all, can you repeat what she just said?¡±

    He furrows his brow in confusion, but complies. The same censorship fills my ears, his lips blurred by the system so I can¡¯t even make the shapes out. But it¡¯s so close to the word Briony said that I have no doubt that they¡¯re saying the same thing. Which means the system thinks I shouldn¡¯t have access to that name.

    That¡¯s as good a recommendation as anything. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind for when we get back, thanks. Illumisia, take them somewhere safe. Make sure Ashmaw doesn¡¯t swing back for them when we get into the quest.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    I blink. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I said no, I will not. I contacted Miss S when you sent me to collect them, and she will look over them for the time being. Wherever this quest takes you, I will be joining you.¡± She says in a tone that brokers no argument. ¡°And before you say anything, yes, I am aware that I cannot intervene. I have not forgotten how the system calculates whether you cleared the quest with your own power or not.¡±

    For a second, I get ready to argue. But honestly, there¡¯s nothing to argue about; with the danger of Stonestep Solutions¡¯ horizonguard in the quest, I want her as close to me as possible.

    ¡°Alright. Here.¡± I pass her a coin, which she boops right back at me with her nose. Filled and ready. Then I nod at the others. ¡°We still need to get them out of here.¡±

    Illumisia nods. ¡°That we agree on. Once you have entered the quest, I will return them to Palastia. I will have Miss S send you a message when I am ready to be teleported.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good to me. How¡¯re your duplicates working?¡±

    ¡°Perfectly fine. It is just that there is very little here to actually see.¡± She sniffs the air and turns towards the woods. ¡°Ah, there is the well. It is quite deep, and there appears to be a great reservoir at the bottom. Correction¨Cit is a vast underground lake. Would you prefer to go there now, or wait for Clutter to finish his rounds?¡±

    ¡°A little bit of both. Let¡¯s see if we can find the other thing before Clutter gets back.¡± I summon another relocation, link myself to it, and drop it. ¡°You two make sure nothing happens to that¨Cor else I won¡¯t have an easy way to get back here in time. Oh, and might as well do¨C¡±

    Illumisia pushes her nose into my hand before the relocation coin finishes appearing. It connects to her instantly, and I stick it in my coin holster with a frown.

    ¡°Are you reading my mind now?¡±

    ¡°No, you are simply beginning to make the correct choices consistently enough for me to predict.¡±

    Illumisia shrinks and walks between my legs, then grows in one massive burst to the size of a building. Vesa yelps. Briony falls back and lets out a nervous laugh. I roll my eyes at the unnecessary theatrics and scratch Illumisia right at the base of her neck.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got half an hour-ish. Can you run that fast?¡±

    She snorts dismissively. ¡°Who do you think I am? You focus on the bauble, and let me worry about the terrain.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± I chuckle and bring out the wreath-sphere, then turn so I¡¯m facing Marywell Den. ¡°Head that-a-way.¡±

    Briony shakily raises a hand. ¡°Um, is it too late to ask who you¡¯re talking to?¡±

    Illumisia looks back at me and barks out a laugh. Before I can get a word out, the landscape blurs and the wind screams in my ears. The mountain of taut magic and muscle underneath me somehow offers a very smooth ride, almost like Illumisia¡¯s fur is insulating me from all the shaking. I look back at the town, watching as it quickly shrinks until there¡¯s barely anything to see. A soft chirp informs me that I¡¯ve got a message from Clutter, and as I read it, a smile works its way across my face; it¡¯s only one word.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    I quickly type out a reply explaining what¡¯s going on, then hit send and dismiss my Class Card as I stretch my shoulders. ¡°Why¡¯d you let Clutter use his skill if you can run this fast?¡±

    ¡°Because his skill is faster.¡±

    ¡°No shit?¡±

    Illumisia grunts. ¡°As much as it pains me to admit it, for me to reach the speeds he achieves with anonymity, I would reveal myself to this entire country. For our purpose, that is equivalent to pointlessly painting a target on all of our backs.¡±

    Fair point. I guess I just never really looked at how far Clutter¡¯s skill moved us, and how long it took relative to that. It¡¯s damn hard to imagine, since it looks and feels like Illumisia¡¯s running faster than a bullet train, but the importance of the anonymity aspect can¡¯t be overstated. Anyone else like Ashmaw showing up would be disastrous. Multiple of them¡­ well, I don¡¯t even want to think about that.

 Chapter 170: One Razed, One Raised

    Landscapes blur by. I lick my lips, a slight numbness touching my tongue for no apparent reason. Maybe that¡¯s what people mean when they say ¡®so close you can taste it¡¯, but if that¡¯s true, then it shouldn¡¯t be giving me a horrible sense of¡­ foreboding. Something¡¯s wrong. No¡­ something¡¯s been wrong for a while. Realization slithers through the back of my mind as Illumisia¡¯s muscles barely strain under me.

    ¡°Illumisia¡­ Clutter didn¡¯t live in Denmary.¡± I whisper. ¡°That was Scooch.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t stop. In fact, she says absolutely nothing. Tangy, bitter worry nips at my thoughts, tinging all of them with hindsight that wasn¡¯t there a second ago. The unknown psychic. Ashmaw. Vesa and Briony. All of it just feels off. Add in Illumisia¡¯s silence and all those sensations fall into the pit of my stomach like a chunk of irradiated lead.

    ¡°What am I missing?¡±

    Illumisia snorts. ¡°So close, yet not quite the right question.¡±

    I lean into her neck with a frown. ¡°What question?¡±

    ¡°The one you just asked. What you should be asking is ¡®why am I having doubts¡¯, not ¡®what did I miss¡¯.¡± Illumisia shakes her head, and a normal-sized duplicate appears right next to me. She clears her throat, and the sound comes from the duplicate. ¡°There are people far more powerful than you can imagine. Ashmaw, the horizonguards, and even Miss S are within the bounds of power that can be understood. Yet you have met one single person whose power is¡­ unfathomable.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Are you talking about you?¡±

    She doesn¡¯t laugh. She doesn¡¯t smile, say something clever, or¡­ anything. All she does is press her nose against my chest, and¨C

    <hr>

    Thousands of miles of green stretch out below me, and I look up at a crack in the sky that¡¯s growing hotter by the second. I want to scream. I want to call for help. But my voice just keeps relaying imperfect information to the people on the other end of the line. Tears stream down my cheeks. My magic won¡¯t listen to me. Nothing listens to me.

    The painted dane curled around my entire existence looks me dead in the eyes. She smiles cruelly, and my magic rips away¨Cstolen and gone. I stare up at the crack. Heat and destruction glows like nothing else I¡¯ve ever seen. Then a smoky voice whispers in my ear¨C¡¯you are no longer useful. Tell your people that we are through.¡¯.

    Everything goes white. It doesn¡¯t even have time to hurt.

    <hr>

    I jolt back, clutching my chest with one hand as the other feels at my face for tears. ¡°What the hell was that?¡±

    ¡°The last memories of the psychic.¡± Illumisia states matter-of-factly. ¡°Who I took at fangpoint the moment I detected their presence. I thought it to be the perfect test of your competence, and you have failed spectacularly. A simple double-layered suggestion implanted into each of your minds, one of which is resistant to your purification, and you do not so much as question the truth.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ what the hell¡­¡± I murmur and look down at my hands. ¡°What the hell is the truth? When did all this shit happen?¡±

    Illumisia sighs and shakes her head. ¡°As I said, the psychic¡¯s magic was stronger than your purification. Had I not intervened, all of you would have walked straight into their trap. But now Ashmaw has dealt with the single strongest psychic on this continent, and you are safe, armed with the knowledge of how dangerous a psychic actually is.¡±

    Knowledge. Yeah, sure, great. I¡­ wow. If Illumisia wasn¡¯t here, I¡¯d be under their control. Completely and utterly. And I didn¡¯t even realize I was mixing up Clutter¡¯s history with Scooch¡¯s until Illumisia took away the spell she¡­ took? Honestly, I¡¯m not even surprised she can do that. But why test me now when we¡¯re so short on time?

    ¡­Wait. Is this why my skill wouldn''t let me call for Illumisia? Because that¡¯d mess with her test somehow? I lock eyes with her duplicate, but I can¡¯t see anything through the pure red facade.

    ¡°Is this why you brought me here? Did I¡­ did I even make the decision to follow the wreath?¡± I clutch the stone between my fingers. ¡°Why, Illumisa? Why bother with all this bullshit?¡±

    ¡°The answer is quite simple; you have not felt what it is like to fight someone with overpowering mental control. Small suggestions have far more power than grand control machinations. For you, this was meant to give you a glimpse into what it looks like for others. For them,¡± Illumisia¡¯s duplicate nods in the direction of Denmary, ¡°it was to show you how dangerous it can be to have allies susceptible to mental manipulation. Vesa, Briony, and Clutter were defeated by the psychic¡¯s abilities before you were even aware of any manipulation.¡±

    I swallow hard. ¡°So how much of it is true?¡±

    Illumisia tilts her head. ¡°If you are referring to the story, all that is not true is the name of the town. Once I kill the rest of this spell, the only thing that will change is that they will no longer have any memories of Denmary.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you¡­ I mean¡­ making an entire new set of memories must be pretty damn hard, right?¡±

    ¡°You would think, but no. All I did was survey the town between leaving Clutter and you relocating to me. Then I merely put that familiarity in Clutter¡¯s mind when you accused him of being from here.¡± Illumisia licks her lips and takes a step towards me. ¡°Until your purification can protect you and Pearl from psychics, I will not let you out of my sight. And I will not let you return to your planet before this happens.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Even though it¡¯s an ultimatum, and Illumisia¡¯s staring at me with a damn intimidating glare, I find myself completely agreeing with her. Sure, I¡¯m pissed that she sprung a trap like this and had the gall to call it a ¡®test¡¯, but if she wasn¡¯t here I¡¯d be done for. Since I have the eye of Stonestep Solutions, and maybe other people on their level, I need to be strong enough to be confident in my own thoughts and senses.

    ¡°I understand.¡± I say with grim acceptance of my own weakness. ¡°No matter how long it takes, I won¡¯t go back to Earth until I¡¯m strong enough to guarantee Pearl¡¯s safety.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Illumisia nudges her nose against my chest. ¡°That is not enough. You will be powerful enough to guarantee both Pearlescence¡¯s safety and yours. I will not settle for less.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ strangely touching. I nod quietly, and Illumisia seems to accept that as a show of my resolve. Her duplicate collapses in my lap, heavy and feeling pretty damn real, as her real body slows down ever so slightly.

    ¡°I will give the other three a complete explanation when we return to ease their minds.¡± She says quietly. ¡°They are innocents who have unwillingly entangled themselves with our struggle. Though I cannot guarantee them safety, I can at least give them clarity of vision.¡±

    Pearl smiles softly. ¡°That¡¯s more than you¡¯ve given before, Illumisia.¡±

    Illumisia huffs and looks away. ¡°Do not mistake this for softness. I simply will not allow anyone to die for circumstances we have placed them in.¡±

    As Pearl giggles fondly, I absentmindedly stroke Illumisia¡¯s ears and look up at the sky. Somehow, I still completely trust her. Maybe she¡¯s still got a bit of control over my brain, or maybe I¡¯m just a little too used to this kind of shit. But the thought of actually being mind controlled and not even knowing it¨Cnot by someone who has my best interests in mind¨Cit¡¯s goddamn terrifying.

    ¡°Yeah, our case is kind of messed up, isn¡¯t it?¡± I half heartedly chuckle. ¡°An almost-god, the potential last shellraiser, and one of the Worth classes. All hated by the system, and we¡¯re pulling innocent bystanders into that hate. Maybe we should try to cut everyone but the other Worth classes loose when we get the chance.¡±

    Pearl frowns. ¡°I think we should just ask them if they¡¯re okay with it. You¡¯d be surprised how many people would willingly walk with us.¡±

    ¡°Yes. There is already one in this world, after all.¡± Illumisia agrees. ¡°I gave Clutter the option of leaving when I revealed myself to him. He chose to stay of his own volition, even knowing the risks.¡±

    ¡­Oh. That¡¯s¡­ wow. ¡°You¡¯re not kidding?¡±

    Illumisia shakes her head. ¡°I have no reason to lie to you at this moment.¡±

    ¡°Right, after all the lies that just happened.¡± I snort and shift my legs to one side as she slows to a walking pace. ¡°I know it doesn¡¯t work with the whole ¡®secret test¡¯ thing, but if you¡¯re going to do something like this again, give me a little warning. I thought my skill was trying to murder me.¡±

    ¡°There is a very good chance that my involvement had little to do with it. And on the topic of telling you¡­ no.¡± She smiles and shrinks down as I hop off. ¡°I do not think I will. Though know that from this point on, I will eventually test you again when circumstances allow.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in¡­ mind¡­¡± I trail off as I take in the sight of¡­ nothing. I take a few steps forward, and sure enough, the tracking wreath shifts to point in the other direction. We¡¯re here. ¡°Where are we? Why¡¯s there absolutely nothing here?¡±

    I gesture at the completely blank clearing, with nothing but a few stones and ankle-high weeds dotting the entire place. There¡¯s at least a good half-mile of emptiness in all directions, and when I look out, I can¡¯t see any roads or landmarks even remotely close to us.

    ¡°How am I supposed to know?¡± Illumisia walks to my side with a huff. ¡°I barely had time to search Denmary before you relocated. Whatever is here is just as new to me as it would be to you.¡±

    Hrm. Either we¡¯re going to need a lot more than half an hour for this, or we¡¯re already done checking this place out. I raise the wreath-sphere into the air and tap it a few times, then grab it by the wreath and try to point it at the ground. The thing resists with all its might, fighting me like a heavyweight champ for the title of ¡®staying parallel to the ground¡¯.

    ¡°The hell is this?¡± I grimace and try to force it even harder, but it¡¯s not moving. ¡°Damn. Illumisia, you give it a try.¡±

    She raises an eyebrow. ¡°I will break it.¡±

    I think for a second, then pull the thing back. ¡°On second thought, maybe you shouldn¡¯t. Can you dig right here and see if there¡¯s anything buried?¡±

    ¡°That I can easily do. Please stand back; I do not know what I will unearth.¡± She nudges me away with her nose, then watches as I take a dozen steps back. ¡°No, no, further than that. Far further.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and take another dozen steps. She shakes her head. So I take twenty. Still not enough, apparently. I jog backwards for a good thirty seconds, keeping my eyes on Illuminati the entire time. Finally she nods and looks away, puts her front paws to the dirt, and takes a breath so deep that her chest bulges like an inflating balloon.

    ¡°Yeep!¡± Pearl yelps as she covers her ears. ¡°Shields up, Shelby! Make them airtight!¡±

    Warning flashes through my entire being, and on instinct, I create a five-fold barrier of shields that surround me entirely. Illumisia laughs in my mind and stops inhaling, then lowers her head to the ground and lets out a single, rapturous howl.

    A cacophony of noises spill from her maw, battering the ground with so much energy that the dirt flows like water. It sloshes up, up, and¡­ oh, shit, there¡¯s a tidal wave of earth coming right at me! I raise my arms and cover my face as the sound shatters the outermost shield, the rumblings of a thousand painted danes screaming at the tops of their lungs battering my magic with an insistence that is just¡­ wrong.

    Then the earth hits. It splits around my shield like a viscous liquid, roots and stones and the remains of insects liquified by Illumisia¡¯s unbelievably powerful howl. I slowly lower my arms and just watch as things that definitely aren¡¯t supposed to be liquids roll over my shield; if it wasn¡¯t such a casual display of extreme power, I¡¯d probably be terrified.

    Yet for some reason, I¡¯m just not scared of Illumisia. Maybe it¡¯s the fact that we share blood, but I trust her completely. It¡¯s the only reason I¡¯m not verbally tearing her a new one for messing with all of us just a few short minutes ago. Whatever she does, if she wanted me dead, it¡¯d be so much faster to just kill me¡­ herself¡­ wait, was that a house?

    I blink and turn around as a¡­ liquified house¡­ rolls over me. ¡°Illumisia. Stop. I think you found what we were looking for.¡±

 Chapter 171: One Step From Quest

    ¡°What the hell did you do to this place?¡± I ask in stunned awe as I walk through a gigantic crater where there was once a bunch of flat nothing. ¡°I thought you were just going to dig down as deep as you could.¡±

    Illumisia huffs and shakes the dirt from her face. ¡°That is such a waste of time. Now, has the wreath reacted in any way?¡±

    Good question. I raise the wreath to my face and squint at the words, then carefully make my way down into the crater as I watch it. The wreath slowly turns to point at the exact same point as before, then flips around to point back the way I came¨Calso just like before.

    ¡°Hrm. I thought the liquified house was going to be important.¡± I lower the wreath and scan the destruction. ¡°Do you have any way to rebuild what you destroyed?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Unfortunately, I am not the one who destroyed that home. Come, see what I mean.¡± Illumisia takes a single step back and nods down at a well of something in the ground. ¡°Well? We are in a severe time crunch, are we not?¡±

    ¡°Excuse me for being a little cautious after what literally just happened.¡± I grumble and make my way to the¡­ thing. The beige liquid sloshes ever so slightly with each of my footsteps, and when I bend down to get a closer look, an intense pine-like smell smacks me in the face. ¡°Whoah. Is this another liquified house? Or a liquified tree?¡±

    Illumisia shrugs. ¡°That is for you to find out, as this now has a chance to interfere with your quest. Or it may not, as you asked me to dig here in the first place. Hrm¡­ I think it would be prudent to mark this exact place on your map on the off chance that this has nothing to do with the quest.¡±

    I breathe out in amusement; yeah, the liquified houses buried underground definitely have nothing to do with the quest. And the fact that it¡¯s happening at the exact point the wreathe is pointing us to is just a complete coincidence as¡­ well. Wait. This thing was originally a grave marker. So what¡¯s the chance that it¡¯s now pointing us towards the grave it was supposed to be marking in the first place?

    And if that¡¯s true¡­ then how the hell did it get to the other graveyard in the first place? Well, I mean, obviously the system did it, but did it do that and mess up this place, or just move the wreathe to the plastic? Speaking of plastic, I¡¯m not seeing much of any of it around here. Or in Denmary, either. It¡¯d almost feel like we¡¯re in the completely wrong place if it wasn¡¯t for the obvious system interference.

    Illumisia nudges her nose under my arm, snapping me back to reality. ¡°What is on your mind?¡±

    ¡°Too much, but I don¡¯t know how much of it is useful and how much of it is me seeing clues where there aren¡¯t any.¡± I sigh and gently dip my finger into the liquid, then try to identify it. The system comes back with a simple ¡®no target found¡¯. ¡°The wreathe was a grave marker, and the map was always a map. Putting plastic on the map worked, but the wreathe didn¡¯t respond. If it wasn¡¯t for ¡®Marywell Den¡¯ I would¡¯ve written this one off as a red herring, but it still led us here to this¡­ weirdness.¡±

    I gesture at the once-clearing, now crater, for emphasis. ¡°Denmary was supposed to be gone, but the system rebuilt it. And I¡¯m pretty sure nobody knew there was anything like a town here, so this was probably something like a wilderness lodge or a private woodsy mansion. But whatever happened to it buried it underground and liquified it in a perfect enough state that I could see an entire house clear my shields.¡±

    ¡°Kind of like a fossil, but not really.¡± Pearl theorizes. ¡°Maybe this isn¡¯t an entrance to the quest, but some kind of a hint? Like, you could get into the quest, and you find an empty field, and now you know to try digging for¡­ house liquid.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s as good a theory as I¡¯ve got.¡± I shake off my finger and stand up straight. ¡°If this place is where the grave marker¡¯s supposed to go, then this is what the system wanted us to find. Maybe it¡¯s even deeper underground, or maybe the house is where ¡®Marywell¡¯ lived, and the quest is going to be about finding her. Or explaining how she died and linking the plastic to her. Illumisia, is it possible to dig deeper and keep the dirt formations around the house so the liquid doesn¡¯t deform?¡±

    She raises her chin in disgust, but nods slowly anyway. ¡°It will take far longer than I would like, but I suppose I could. Not in the time that you have given Clutter for your return, though. Leave a coin with me and return to him, then if you have enough time before the quest begins at Denmary, you can return to see my progress.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll do just that. Thanks, Illumisia.¡±

    I open my Class Card, put a marking pin directly on top of my location, and pull out a relocation coin that I toss to Illumisia. She catches it gingerly between her teeth and slips it between her cheek and her gums, then closes her mouth and turns to the small pool of liquid wood while grumbling in annoyance at the task ahead of her.

    ¡°Be back soon.¡±

    She mumbles a quick goodbye, and just as magic stats to extend from her body, I pull on my coin and relocate back to Denmary. Vesa and Briony barely notice my return they¡¯re so engrossed with their own conversation, and their backs are turned to me too, so I guess I can forgive them. Clutter, however, perks right up and walks right between the pair, cutting whatever they were talking about short, and proudly struts up to me with his Class Card in his hand.

    ¡°Here¡¯s the map!¡± He says eagerly and taps his Class Card to my own. ¡°It was really weird doing this, and then halfway through, I remembered that I wasn¡¯t from Denmary at all. Honestly, it didn¡¯t make it any easier or harder, but it felt like the psychic¡¯s attack finally wore off. Kind of scary when you think about it, isn¡¯t it? That the magic was so insidious that even after multiple layers, it was still there?¡±

    I vigorously nod in agreement as I check out Clutter¡¯s map. ¡°Definitely. Almost like someone way more powerful than the psychic was doing it to us, right? Or maybe they were controlling said psychic?¡±The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Clutter blinks then narrows his eyes and leans in close to whisper in my ear. ¡°Did Illumisia do this?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but probably not for the reasons you¡¯re thinking.¡± I whisper back. ¡°She¡¯ll tell you the story herself, so just wait for that. Nice work on the map, by the way; how¡¯d you manage to do this with just text? I can make out every building and the places that are weird about them so easily.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that? It¡¯s just something I learned to do when I was bored.¡± He smiles and clasps his hands together as his tail wags up a storm. ¡°When you have a lot of time and not much to waste it with, you use what you have. The first thing I learned was how to make a bunch of obscene gestures so I can send them to jerks. Want to see one?¡±

    Honestly, I¡¯m intrigued, but I don¡¯t have time to go down this rabbit hole right now. ¡°Maybe when we''re actually in the quest. For right now, did you see anything at all that is even mildly plastic-like?¡±

    He shakes his head without a second to think. ¡°Absolutely nothing. And when I touched all the weird unrestored parts, nothing happened either. I bet that well Illumisia found has all the secrets inside of it. Want to go take a look at it?¡±

    ¡°No reason to wait, so sure. And you two¨Cwait here.¡± I motion for Briony to stop as she starts to walk towards us. ¡°Sorry to say it, but I¡¯m not willing to risk either of you messing up the quest. Especially now that you¡¯re probably remembering some things and have a bunch of questions.¡±

    Briony slows to a stop. ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    I purse my lips. ¡°Because it¡¯s complicated, and I can¡¯t really tell you the whole story. Just wait until Illumisia gets here and then all your questions will be¡­ maybe not answered, but at least taken care of.¡±

    Vesa frowns. ¡°What¡¯s that mean?¡±

    ¡°It means you¡¯re going to have to wait.¡± Clutter says happily. ¡°It was nice catching up with you guys, though! Sorry again for the eye, Briony. I¡¯ll make it up to you someday.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, you idiot.¡± Briony sighs and shakes her head. ¡°Just go do your thing. We¡¯ll be right here when you¡¯re done with the quest.¡±

    ¡°Weeelll¡­ you¡¯ll be back with Miss S, as long as she¡¯s willing to put up with you, but I guess that¡¯s close enough!¡± Clutter grins and turns on his heel. ¡°C¡¯mon, I think this is going to be the one! We¡¯re so close I can almost taste it!¡±

    I nod in agreement and start to follow him. With a wave goodbye at Vesa and Briony, we make our way out from the buildings and streets of Denmary to a more wooded path. Old, rickety trees that look like they haven¡¯t gotten enough water or nutrients for years line both sides of a dirt path like imperial guards, standing gnarled and hunched together as if they¡¯d¨Cat one time¨Cformed a tunnel to walk through. But now, as the¡­ years, I think¡­ have gone by, sunlight easily filters through skeletal branches and bathes the parched ground in unforgiving heat.

    Clutter raises a hand to his forehead to block out the sun as he scours the distance. He doesn¡¯t say much as we walk, and from the complete lack of tension in his shoulders along with his vigorous tail, it isn¡¯t because he¡¯s hiding or showing on anything. Pure excitement and anticipation fuel this silence, and I¡¯m more than happy to let him keep on with it.

    But apparently Pearl thinks otherwise. She fidgets with her hands, stares at the back of Clutter¡¯s head, and juts out her chin like she¡¯s trying to swallow her front teeth. I raise an eyebrow and split my attention between her, my awareness, and watching Clutter as he searches for the well Illumisia already found.

    A few short minutes later, she nods to herself with determination. ¡°We should tell him.¡±

    I almost ask what she wants us to tell him, but giving it a single thought slashes away the possibilities until only one really remains. ¡°You¡¯re sure? It could put him in even more danger.¡±

    She laughs quietly to herself as Clutter cocks his head in confusion. ¡°How can he be in more danger than now? The fight with Ashmaw probably clarified that I¡¯m a real shellraiser to Stonestep Solutions, and it¡¯s only a matter of time until they sell that information to¡­ pretty much everyone else. Heck, even Earth won¡¯t be safe, because HuSt and the Preservation will definitely come after you in particular when they find out.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but that¡¯s not much of a change from last time. Just saying ¡®hey, I¡¯m technically one of the leaders of the resort¡¯ would¡¯ve been enough for¡­ that.¡± I pause as I realize Clutter stopped walking. ¡°What¡¯s with the holdup?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re talking to someone. Is it¡­ is it about¡­¡± He swallows hard, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. ¡°Replacing me?¡±

    I can¡¯t help but snort out a laugh. ¡°Clutter, buddy, you¡¯ve got it so wrong. And before you dig yourself further into an imaginary hole¨Csince I can see you want to do that¨CI¡¯ll just answer both your questions in one go the moment we¡¯re in the well. Can you wait until then?¡±

    He nibbles nervously on his lip, but nods anyway. Pearl hums in thought as he starts walking once more, but this time, his tail isn¡¯t wagging at all. I feel a little bad about making him wait, but I¡¯m more than happy to show him Pearl¨Cnot Vesa and Briony, just in case they¡¯ve been following us. The second we¡¯re in that well I can throw up a barrier at the top, and then we can talk in peace.

    ¡°You know, I¡¯m kind of amazed he¡¯s gotten this far.¡± Pearl notes with amusement. ¡°He had the misfortune of bumping into Illumisia, got roped into all of this, and now he¡¯s giving us more loyalty than I¡¯ve seen some lifelong friends give each other. The fact that someone else hasn¡¯t stepped in and taken horrible advantage of that is a miracle.¡±

    Agreed. Dell probably came close, and if I wasn¡¯t here, I have no doubt she would¡¯ve roped him into being a Preservation crony while also being the exact thing they want to get rid of. Or¡­ suppress, maybe? Honestly, I¡¯m not quite sure what flavor of atrocity the Preservation wants to inflict on Palastia. But it has to be stopped¨Cnow more than ever, knowing what I know.

    Because outside of Noland, Ursula, and maybe Gil and March, I don¡¯t know how many humans could put up a fight with someone like Ashmaw. Definitely not me or Clutter¨Cwho has his eyes locked on something through the trees and is frowning to try and get a better look.

    ¡°I¡­ think that¡¯s it.¡± Clutter murmurs unconfidently. ¡°There¡¯s some stones there and a little bit of raised dirt, but if that¡¯s a well, then time hasn¡¯t been kind to it. How old was Scooch, anyway?¡±

    Clutter¡¯s question echoes in my ears as my eyes focus on something that looks utterly ancient. If it were back on Earth, I¡¯d say with confidence that it was some kind of ancient Greek or viking ruins¨Cnot something that got destroyed just a few years ago. Sun-bleached stone lies half buried in creeping vines and cracked earth, with barely anything around it indicating that it¡¯s supposed to serve any function at all. But the closer I look¡­ the more stones I see.

    It isn¡¯t some tiny, bucket-on-a-rope thing that I was picturing. It¡¯s closer to the size of a backyard pool, and at each of the ¡®corners¡¯, there¡¯s a stone that¡¯s rounder than the others. Like four individual manhole covers.

    ¡°I have no idea. But from the looks of that¡­ he¡¯s gotta be way older than I thought.¡±

 Chapter 172: Technically A Well

    Since all the covers seem exactly the same to me, I pick the closest one and walk right up to it. All the stone around it is so buried in the ground that I can¡¯t even tell how much of it is under the dirt, and when I lean down to brush my fingers against it, chalky dust scrapes away from the lightest touch. I rub a little harder to see just how messed up it really is, and after a few scrapes, it stops coming away and feels like actually scratching a stone.

    ¡°How come the wind didn¡¯t blow this stuff away?¡± I wonder as I rub the powder between my fingers. ¡°A good breeze should¡¯ve taken the entire layer off.¡±

    Clutter shrugs and kneels down next to the cover. ¡°Probably the system. Don¡¯t think too hard about it, I guess. So¡­ are we supposed to just break this thing so we can get down into the well?¡±

    ¡°Unless you see some ancient crowbar around here, then I¡¯d say yeah.¡± I pat him on the shoulder to get him to step away as I place a projectile coin on the cover. ¡°I don¡¯t feel anything magical from it, but that doesn¡¯t mean it won¡¯t explode into thousands of extremely sharp stone shards. So get behind me.¡±

    He nods and sidesteps so he¡¯s positioned perfectly behind me. I take two more steps back, which he mirrors, then summon a shield coin that I clutch between two fingers in preparation. With a look over my shoulder, I raise my chin at him.

    ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°Yep!¡±

    Alright. I snap my shield into being, and in the next thought, trigger the projectile. Magic and dirt and stone fly every which way, blanketing my shield in splatters, pings, and a few thuds that would¡¯ve done serious damage to flesh. I squint through the motion to try and make out the cover, since it has to be made of some kind of durable material¡­ but it¡¯s not there any more. Looks like my projectile did its job perfectly.

    ¡°There we go.¡± I dismiss both the projectile and the shield with a thought. ¡°One entrance carved out. I¡¯ll go down first, then send another shield up so you can make it down safely too.¡±

    Clutter pouts, but nods anyway. ¡°Okay. You¡¯re¡­ um¡­ sure I can¡¯t go first?¡±

    Pearl snorts in amusement. I ignore her. ¡°Yes. Just in case there¡¯s something down there. Unless you¡¯ve been hiding some serious firepower for reasons I can¡¯t even imagine?¡±

    He kicks a rock dejectedly. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then you get to come down second.¡± I say as I step to the new opening. A glance down reveals a hole about four feet wide¨Cnot the giant clearing I¡¯d expected. ¡°Huh. Maybe these are all different wells.¡±

    ¡°No, they all connect to the same well. Just four entrances to it for some weird reason.¡± Pearl leans forward and scratches her chin. ¡°Maybe it has to do with the kind of building this was before it got ruined. Um¡­ maybe some kind of bathhouse, and each of the ¡®wells¡¯ was designated for a different room? So they wouldn¡¯t get soap in the drinking water, you know?¡±

    I consider that for a second, but it doesn¡¯t sit right with me. If Illumisia is right¨Cwhich I have no doubt she is¨Cthen we¡¯re standing above an underground lake. And if I¡¯m remembering right, you don¡¯t want to drink lake water straight from the source. So they would¡¯ve had some kind of water purification system in place before they drank it¨Ceither right here, in a single building, or in every house.

    ¡°Clutter, do you remember seeing anything like a water purifier in any of the buildings? Or just a water tank with some¡­ magic runes on it?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Nothing like that at all.¡±

    ¡°Hrm. Adds a little truth to my theory, but not enough. Get ready for your turn.¡±

    I step over the edge and summon a shield at my feet. Dry dirt sails by for a split second, then my bent knees absorb the brunt of the landing. Some of the dirt is so devoid of nutrients and water that it¡¯s almost turned bone white, and the closer I look, I notice more dings and bumps in the walls. Now I¡¯m not an expert in wells, but I assume you¡¯d want to build up some kind of¡­ retaining wall so you don¡¯t get a cave in. Or just dirt and bugs in your drinking water.

    ¡°Can I come down now? I don¡¯t see a shield!¡±

    ¡°Give me ten seconds!¡± I call back, toss a coin towards the entrance, and summon a shield. ¡°There! Stand on it and it¡¯ll take you down when I can prove its safe!¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡±

    With that settled, I turn back to focus on the task at hand. Even moving slowly, it becomes damn obvious how deep the dry soil goes. It takes on a darkness and dampness with every passing second, but even when I can feel water somewhere below with my awareness, it doesn¡¯t look ¡®normal¡¯. Just¡­ regular dehydrated dirt. And some roots peeking through the soil that¡¯re as thin as spaghetti and look twice as brittle.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Then, without warning, I¡¯m through. Walls of dirt give way to a gigantic cavern with a good twenty feet of open space, and below that, an expanse of water that stretches so far into the distance that the light from the surface can¡¯t come close to reaching its outer edges. I kneel on my shield as it takes me right to the surface of the water and run a hand through it.

    Slime coats my fingers the moment they touch water. It feels like a mixture of pond scum and cooking oil, and somehow, it doesn¡¯t smell like¡­ anything, really. Not the dankness of stale water on stone, or the ripe stench of plant life that¡¯s been left to live and die without human intervention. Then there¡¯s the quiet, so all-consuming that my heartbeat is the loudest thing that reaches my ears. If something lived down here, I assume there¡¯d be at least a little movement or sound.

    But this¨Cthis looks like it hasn¡¯t been touched since it was destroyed. Maybe the walls have some water level markings I can look at. But before any of that; Clutter. His shield should be bringing him down any second now, and I¡¯m directly under where he¡¯ll land. I summon a larger shield, just thin enough to safely hold Clutter and my weight, and stretch it as thin as it¡¯ll go. Shimmering magic unfolds a good few dozen feet in all directions, and I step out onto it as I look up to watch Clutter descend.

    My shield comes into view first, followed immediately after by a wagging tail and a very enthusiastic Clutter. He snaps every which way to take in all the sights, but after figuring out there aren''t many sights to take in, he focuses on me and jumps off to join me on the larger platform shield.

    ¡°The dirt was weird.¡± He states matter-of-factly. ¡°I think all this cave is stone, so why are there four entrances to it? Did they drill them?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the most likely explanation, yes.¡± I toss him a few shield coins and motion off into the distance. ¡°Those have shields just like the ones under our feet. Use them to explore this place, and if you need help, use this.¡±

    I flick him one last relocation coin, which he accepts and then returns. ¡°Thanks. So¡­ can you tell me what the big secret is now?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. Pearl? How about you?¡±

    She sticks the upper half of her body out of her shell and taps her lip in thought. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Shelby; is it a good time to tell him that you''ve been working with a shellraiser?¡±

    I grin and exaggeratedly shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Pearl; maybe he won¡¯t believe me when I tell him. It¡¯s not every day you learn that an extinct species is actually alive and way more adorable than the stories say.¡±

    ¡°Ado¡­ you think I¡¯m adorable?¡± Pearl blushes and smooshes against me in a one-sided hug. ¡°Aw, Shelby! I think you¡¯re adorable, too!¡±

    My smile grows as I shift my attention back to Clutter, who¡¯s just standing there normally. ¡°So yeah, Clutter, this is Pearl. She¡¯s been in this shell the entire time, and the system kind of hates both of our guts. Having second thoughts about staying with us now? ¡­Clutter?¡±

    I wave a hand in front of his face. His eyes don¡¯t follow the motion, and he slowly blinks while staring off into the distance. Poor thing; meeting Pearl broke him. Maybe I should¡¯ve held off on this until after the quest.

    ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s that for now.¡± I say slowly and start walking away. ¡°When you process what I just told you, start your own search. That shield will last a good fifteen minutes, so if you need longer than that¡­ sorry, I guess.¡±

    I flick a coin into the distance, and another shield connects to the first. After giving it a few more seconds to see if Clutter¡¯s going to react at all, I shake my head and start my search in earnest. The first step is to find a wall and see if it has any markings I can use. After that¡­ I guess just walk around until anything plastic-y or quest-like jumps out at me.

    It¡¯s not like I can do much of anything else. The words on the map don¡¯t get any smaller when I zoom in, so they¡¯re definitely covering everything here. I roll my shoulder as Pearl fully leaves her shell and makes herself comfortable on my shoulder like a goopy parrot.

    ¡°This is kind of nice.¡± She says happily. ¡°I haven''t really ridden on your shoulder like this since the tunnels where we first met. Now with everything that¡¯s happened¡­ well, I still really like the view from up here. Kind of makes me feel like I don¡¯t have to do everything alone this time.¡±

    ¡°Ominous. Think the system will let enough censorship slide so you can tell the story?¡±

    Pearl laughs and shakes her head. ¡°No way. I can almost feel it staring at me, waiting for me to say anything that might give you any kind of a hint for my quest with its finger over a big red button that says ¡®censor¡¯.¡±

    That¡¯s certainly a visual. The horrible system¨Cresponsible for an unknown amount of Worth class deaths and the extinction of Pearl¡¯s entire species¨Cwatching us like a petty moderator waiting for the smallest offence. It¡¯s both diminutive and a little worrying, honestly.

    Walking to the edge takes a little longer than I thought it would. By the time a wall enters my awareness, the light filtering down from the surface is just a spotlight in the distance. I flick a coin into the air, make the smallest projectile I can manage, and hold it close to the wall in the hopes of getting a little light. It doesn¡¯t help at all.

    I lean in close even though there¡¯s no point and focus on my awareness. The differences in the rock are far more subtle than I expected; there¡¯s no obvious water line or any signs of interference. There¡¯s no slime on the wall, either, so the water level definitely won¡¯t rise any higher than this.

    ¡°So what¡¯s the verdict?¡± Pearl asks as I wipe my hand on my pants. ¡°Find anything useful?¡±

    I click my tongue and shake my head. ¡°Nothing yet. I doubt going any higher would be useful, so maybe we¡¯re going to have to go diving. Unless you can feel anything under the water?¡±

    ¡°I can. Sort of.¡± She frowns and kicks her heels against my shoulder. ¡°The stone wall goes down, but there¡¯s nothing else near there. No¡­ um¡­ caverns? Tunnels? I don¡¯t know what the right word for it is. Maybe try walking around the perimeter of the lake?¡±

    ¡°Would be worth a shot if we had a shit-ton more time. But we need to try something else.¡±

    Pearl raises an eyebrow. ¡°And what might that be?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ think of something.¡±

 Chapter 173: In The Waters

    Staring into the darkness, with only my awareness to guide my thoughts, is a strange feeling. It¡¯s like fumbling around in a room with the lights off, completely aware of where everything is, but there isn¡¯t a switch to flick for light. My eyes scream for stimuli, and my brain seems confused at the images coming in through something that¡¯s not meant to connect to it.

    I wince and close my eyes. The sensations instantly stop, even though I can still ¡®see¡¯ everything my awareness ¡®sees¡¯. ¡°Pearl, did something happen to my awareness¡­ like¡­ five minutes ago?¡±

    She shoots me an inquisitive glance. ¡°Not that I noticed. Why? If it¡¯s something weird, maybe I can give you some advice.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s definitely weird.¡± I chuckle humourlessly and start walking along the wall. ¡°It just started hurting when I looked at things with my eyes open. Almost like my brain¡¯s trying to tell me that there¡¯s nothing there for me to see, but my awareness is telling me otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Hm. That¡¯s probably because we didn¡¯t completely remake your brain. Actually¡­ no, wait, I gave you awareness before we remade you. Huh.¡± Pearl crosses her arms and leans against my head. ¡°I guess it could be your brain trying to actually accept the awareness as a part of you, and not just something I gave you. Honestly, though, it¡¯s probably just overuse¨Cyou¡¯ve been using a lot of spells and brainpower the last few days.¡±

    I nod in agreement and toss down another shield platform. ¡°Good point. Good thing I¡¯ve got a few days to take a break, right?¡±

    Pearl doesn¡¯t even try to stifle a giggle. ¡°Right! You¡¯re definitely not about to jump into a quest that could take anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks to complete.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope for ¡®weeks¡¯. If it¡¯s a mad dash for a prize, there¡¯s no way we¡¯re beating Stonestep solutions and anyone else who¡¯s found their way into the quest.¡± I wince and roll the shoulder Pearl isn¡¯t sitting on as a dull pain shoots through it. ¡°That was weird. I don¡¯t remember pulling this shoulder. Anything new in your awareness?¡±

    ¡°Give me a second to check.¡± Pearl closes her eyes and leans forward to focus. ¡°Nothing¡­ nothing¡­ nothing¡­ um, I think that¡¯s nothing¡­ but it could be something. There¡¯s a pillar of rock just barely jutting into my awareness¡¯ range. Do you want to jump in?¡±

    I glance down at the sticky, oily, scummy water. No part of me particularly wants to take a dip in the stuff that could¡¯ve been stagnant for years, but since we don¡¯t have any other clues¡­ I guess I don¡¯t really have a choice. Oh, wait¨CI can just shield myself and go down. That¡¯s a much better plan.

    ¡°Not really, but I¡¯ve got an idea. Point me in the right direction.¡±

    Pearl nods, then shifts and points away from the wall. I turn until I¡¯m aligned with her finger, then toss a platform out for some more walking space. My footsteps click against my shield, fading into the distance without so much as an echo as I make my way to the spot. After two minutes I¡¯m reminded just how much further Pearl¡¯s awareness stretches compared to mine.

    ¡°Stop.¡± Pearl decrees as her point shifts into a flat palm. ¡°We¡¯re right above it. And there¡¯s a bunch more of them close-ish to this one. I¡¯ll scream really loud if something randomly appears in the distance.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep my ears open.¡±

    I stomp on my shield, breaking away a portion just big enough for me to fall through. The connection to the shield weakens in my mind, and I¡¯m made aware that it¡¯s time limit just shrunk by half. It¡¯ll still be more than enough, it just means I need to go a little faster than I initially thought.

    Two more shield coins appear in my hand. One of them turns into a long pole, hollow at the top, and the other encases me in an airtight oval with a flat bottom and a small hole at the top. I feed the pole into the hole in the oval, then push it against the bottom until the two shields fuse together. One look with my awareness informs me that the seal is watertight, so I hop into the hole I made and drag the pole down with me.

    Water rushes in around me. I take a deep breath as my awareness completely fades away, my eyes still scrunched closed, and motion for Pearl to lead the way.

    ¡°Shelby¡­ your awareness should pierce through your own magic. Shift forward a little here, then just keep going down until you hit something.¡± She pauses for me to move, then nods. ¡°That¡¯s good, we¡¯re right over it. But it¡¯s going to be useless if you can¡¯t see it and that¡¯s how we¡¯re supposed to get the quest. So stop not seeing.¡±

    I shoot Pearl a flat, closed-eye stare. ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll get right on that. Just let me open my eyes, and¡­ well, would you look at that? My head hurts and I still can¡¯t see anything.¡±

    ¡°Not like that. Obviously.¡± She smiles and pats my temple. ¡°My awareness can go through your shields, and I know yours can too¨Cit¡¯s done it before. But it didn¡¯t the last time you used it, since you were so tired, and now your brain thinks that¡¯s normal. Just remember what it was like before and it should come back to you.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡­Just remember. Yeah, sure, easy as that. I place a hand on my shield to steady myself for the eventual impact with the spire, then try to remember what it was like before. But¡­ it¡¯s weird. I¡¯ve never felt like my awareness was penetrating my shields¨Cjust that it somehow didn''t even factor in. And now that I¡¯m more¡­ well¡­ aware of my awareness, it feels like it¡¯s having a few more issues. I breathe deeply through my nose, imagine the water beyond my hand isn¡¯t separated by a veil of my own magic, and try to see through it.

    Wet, echoing shudders reverberate from the bottom of my shield. I steady myself with my other hand on the wall, and my eyes snap open to try and see the source of the impact. It¡¯s still pitch-black. But now, my awareness sees¡­ something else. Grains of magic floating around my shield like salt dissolved into existence itself. Each of them takes hold of my awareness and traps it, stealing it away like salt dissolving into water. I frown and rub my hand against my shield, feeling the strength of my magic warring with my awareness.

    Is my shield¡­ too strong for my awareness? ¡°Pearl¡­ can you feel something off with my shield?¡±

    ¡°Off?¡± She frowns and hops off my shoulder, scurries down my arm, and presses her hands to the magic. ¡°Um¡­ hmm¡­ nope. It feels exactly like your Fleur-empowered shield. Maybe a little stronger than a few days ago, but that¡¯s probably because you¡¯ve been using it to block a lot of stuff. Heck, if I was the system, I would¡¯ve leveled up your shield just from the fight at the graveyard.¡±

    ¡°No. My shield doesn¡¯t¡­ ¡®level up¡¯.¡± I say, but as the words leave my lips, I¡¯m not convinced. ¡°All that matters is how much Worth I put into it. Skeletal ghost quarters for shields, regular ones for projectiles. Sometimes mixing the two up if I need more or less firepower. Nothing¡¯s changed.¡±

    Pearl turns on her heel and points at my chest. ¡°Nothing but you.¡±

    I swallow hard; I don¡¯t have an argument for that. ¡°Do you really think the skill I got from Fleur had that much of a difference?¡±

    ¡°Unless you suddenly found a way to easily triple your Worth when I wasn¡¯t looking?¡± Pearl nods. ¡°Yes. Fleur isn¡¯t system bound, just like Illumisia and I. It¡¯d make sense that she¡¯d let you grow without the system¡¯s permission¨Cjust like your awareness does. But I guess your awareness isn¡¯t growing as fast as your spells.¡±

    An unused shield coin seems to grow warm in my holster. ¡°Fleur isn¡¯t system bound?¡±

    ¡°Obviously not. You put her data into the system, remember? If she was system-bound, you wouldn¡¯t have named her species or become her god.¡± Pearl grimaces as she walks back up my arm. ¡°The system doesn¡¯t like god-like figures. Just like it doesn¡¯t like anyone that uses magic it can¡¯t fully control the output of. That¡¯s probably part of the reason it hates Worth classes so much.¡±

    Because we don¡¯t stick to the strict set of regulations it created. Hrm. Maybe I¡¯ll have to be careful when I eventually bring Fleur over to this world¨Cor¡­ well¡­ since she¡¯s stronger than I am¡­ nevermind. I can¡¯t get sidetracked now. My awareness isn¡¯t penetrating my shield because it¡¯s become too strong. So I need to work on making my awareness more powerful. Putting points into Soul might help, but I really need to find out how shellraisers did it way back when.

    Unfortunately, the chance of that info not being censored is close to zero percent. ¡°How do you make your awareness stronger?¡±

    Pearl raises an eyebrow. ¡°___.¡±

    I wince. She nods to herself in frustration.

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you. You¡¯ll just have to advance your quest.¡±

    I scrape my fingernails against my shield until I ball my hand into a fist. Damn the system for censoring everything that could help me right now. When I get my hands on more stat coins, I¡¯m going to dump all of them into Mind so I don¡¯t have to deal with this shit.

    No, no¨CI can¡¯t get pissed now. Gotta focus on the problem at hand. My awareness won¡¯t pierce the shield. So how can I fix that? I could weaken the shield, but that comes with its own risks, and it might not even work at all. Collapsing the shield completely could also work. Then I¡¯d be able to get my hands on the spire, but I¡¯d also be shoving myself in the potentially disgusting water.

    ¡­Wait, am I stupid? I know that my awareness still works when I can¡¯t see. So it must come out of my body some other way. All I need to do is make a hole in the shield and stick, like, a single finger out. That should be enough.

    I nod to myself, not proud of how I didn¡¯t even think of that before, and push a finger against the shield. With a few strong thoughts and a lot of pushing, my shield breaks perfectly around my digit¨Closing half of its structural integrity in the process. And with it blossoms my awareness, filling the space around me in the strange outlined black that¡¯s exactly the same as when I have my mask on.

    There¡¯s an empty space in the exact shape of my shield. I wince and shift my focus away from it to the pillar that my shield is slowly grinding up against. It¡¯s all lumpy and misshapen, with a slight curve to it that almost looks like algae swaying in the water. I watch for a few seconds just to make sure it isn¡¯t moving, and when I can confirm it isn¡¯t, I shift my focus down the pillar.

    Scanning what I can of the thing doesn¡¯t take long. The tippy tops of two others just barely poke into my awareness, and from what I can see of them, they aren¡¯t any different than the one I¡¯m looking at. But the formation is just¡­ weird. Stalac¡­tites? Mites? Whichever one piles up on the ground of caves¨Cthat¡¯s what these things remind me of. But Pearl didn¡¯t mention anything about the ceiling looking strange, and I didn¡¯t see anything on the way down.

    ¡°I hope these things are important. Identify.¡±

    ¡­I frown as absolutely nothing happens. ¡°Identify. That rock pillar. What¡¯s it made of?¡±

    Still no response. I hum to myself in thought and push my finger at the pillar, straining to move my shield until I just barely brush flesh against¡­ something that squishes under my fingertip. A wet squish that¡¯s disgusting, unsettling, and freakishly familiar. The sides of my mouth curl into a grin as I scrape off the smallest amount of stuff and pull out my Class Card with the other hand.

    I swipe through until I get to my inventory. The plastic stares back at me, an extremely small amount taken away to make the map work. I stare intently at the number, then focus on the stuff under my fingernail and attempt to pull it in.

    The stuff disappears from my finger. No new acquisitions appear in my inventory. And the amount of plastic just barely climbs up one decimal point.

 Chapter 174: Plastic Portents

    ¡°It¡¯s the plastic stuff. We¡¯re in the right place.¡±

    I push the rest of my hand through my shield and wrap my fingers around the pillar. It squelches between my fingers, offering a slightly worse sensation than the dry stuff, and I pull the handful away. Sending it to my inventory ups the number until it hits the limit, then starts filling another empty slot with the leftovers. I assume that means there¡¯s no difference between the stuff I already had and the stuff here, so whatever we need to do for the quest, it isn¡¯t going to just jump out at us.

    Pearl stares out into the darkness as he kicks her legs. ¡°What do we do now, then? I don¡¯t remember seeing anything obvious that could help us.¡±

    ¡°Neither did I, but that¡¯s not to say there isn¡¯t anything.¡± I say as I pull up my map. ¡°Good thing I can still see this through my awareness. But¡­ it doesn¡¯t look like anything¡¯s changed. Guess all it was supposed to do was lead us here.¡±

    I send my Class Card away and hum to myself in thought. If I¡¯m right, which I easily couldn¡¯t be, each of the leads we followed should be able to access the quest on their own. So whatever we¡¯ve seen since we got the map from the monster should be all we need to access it. Or¡­ maybe what we had to do to get the quest in the first place.

    ¡°Any chance there¡¯s one of those¡­ phase points around here?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ I can try looking for one. But will that, you know, count against you for getting the quest?¡± Pearl asks quietly, as if speaking too loud will draw the system¡¯s attention. ¡°Because if I can¡¯t find one now, then there¡¯s no way anyone else would¡¯ve been able to find one.¡±

    ¡°The kid only saw the monster by freak accident. If I was the system, I would¡¯ve put that one there so someone who can find phase points could access the quest. Of course, that all depends on the system personally putting all the hints in place.¡± I scratch my shoulder as a frown crosses my lips. ¡°Denmary was definitely the system¡¯s doing. But do we think the graveyard, monster, and Well the supplier were all directly put there by the system?¡±

    Pearl slowly nods. ¡°Hm. That¡¯s a good point. One I don¡¯t really have an answer to, since we don¡¯t know if the plastic was something the world made on its own or if the system made it specifically for the quest. I guess we¡¯ll find out really soon!¡±

    ¡°Really soon?¡± My growing frown shifts into a grin. ¡°Does that mean what I think it means?¡±

    She grins right back. ¡°It¡¯s not a phase thing, but there¡¯s something different about one of the spires down below. Something much more¡­ natural than these lumpy plastic monstrosities. A lot smaller, too, and¡­ well, you¡¯ll just have to see for yourself. So go see! What are you waiting for?!¡±

    Nothing, I guess. With a glance at my feet I wrap my free hand around the pole, then use it to push slightly away from the spire. Pearl instantly shakes her head and points in the opposite direction, and with a chuckle, I readjust to the right direction. The shield pole scrapes against the platform up top, barely providing enough friction for me to push myself downwards, and as my stomach starts to drop, the Pressure mounts on my shield.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got about a third left in this one.¡± I relay as I steer away from another spire. ¡°How much further is it?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re about two-thirds of the way down. Your awareness should pick up the real spire in about fifteen seconds.¡± Pearl responds eagerly. ¡°Ooh, I really hope this is the right thing. Time¡¯s running out, and I really don¡¯t want to sit around doing nothing while we hope another quest shows itself.¡±

    ¡°Well, we wouldn¡¯t do nothing. I¡¯d find some way to slow down the Preservation, get stronger, and help the resort. Sure, it wouldn¡¯t be exciting, but it¡¯d be something to pass the time. I¡­ there it is.¡± I stop as my awareness slowly rolls over a much smaller, much sharper spire. In fact, it looks exactly like a bigger version of the things that came with the map. ¡°If that isn¡¯t what we¡¯re looking for, then the system¡¯s got one twisted sense of humor.¡±

    As my awareness washes over the spire, slowly revealing more and more of it, I get increasingly confident in my analysis. The thing is a perfect clone of the ones on the map, albeit bigger, and it¡¯s planted right where the words are. I hold my breath as the bottom thins to a point, then the bottom comes into view. A rocky, uneven bottom with words carved into it.

    I blink as I confirm that there are, indeed, words there. Carved into the bottom of an underground lake. Sure enough, four words as clear as day pop through my awareness with the intensity of a scream.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡®I Need To Breathe.¡¯

    A shiver works its way up my spine, ending with a full-blown shudder that has Pearl hanging onto my ear for dear life. The words cement themselves into my mind with the heat of a branding iron. Something about them just feels¡­ important. Not just to the quest, but in general.

    ¡°I need to breathe.¡± I whisper to myself. ¡°It sounds like a plea for help.¡±

    Pearl grimaces. ¡°It does. Even though there¡¯s no magic in them, they feel¡­ strong. Like how somewhere can smell smoky for months after a fire. But there should be at least a little magic here, right?¡±

    ¡°Maybe there is. Just not where we¡¯re looking.¡± I let go of the pole and pull out another coin. ¡°I¡¯m going out there. You want to go back in the shell, or are you fine getting wet?¡±

    She looks at the coin in my hand, then turns and climbs on top of my head. ¡°Now we can both be dry-ish.¡±

    I frown. ¡°How¡¯d you¡­ nevermind. Just curl up so I don¡¯t cut you in two.¡±

    My coin blossoms into a shield that wraps itself around my neck, enclosing my head in an airtight diving helmet. Then I grab the pole, press it against the top of my helmet, and connect the two. A rush of fresh-ish air flows into my helmet, and I take a few deep breaths to make sure it¡¯s working fine.

    It is. ¡°Alright. Taking down the shield now.¡±

    Pearl gives me a thumbs-up from right next to my ear. I nod, jostling her something fierce, and dismiss the shield keeping me dry. Water rushes in to fill the space, and before I even have time to gasp, lukewarm liquid presses down on my body from all directions. Then¡­ nothing. I blink in surprise and raise my hands, feeling the resistance of water, but not the¡­ wetness?

    ¡°The hell is this?¡± I mutter in disbelief. ¡°Pearl?¡±

    She looks me up and down, then tilts her head to the side. ¡°The water is perfectly matching your body¡¯s temperature. Like, to a thousandth of a degree. But I still can¡¯t feel any magic aside from the stuff in the plastic. How weird.¡±

    Just means we¡¯re in the right place. I flex my fingers a few times just to make sure they still work, then take a step through the water that doesn¡¯t feel wet. My mind works itself in knots to try and convince me that my clothes billowing away from my body is perfectly normal, and that the pressure attempting to rupture me from the inside out is just my imagination. If it wasn¡¯t for Pearl and Illumisia, I probably wouldn''t be fine right now.

    The spear looms before me like a giant¡¯s discarded toothpick, or a bone needle that someone left unattended in a mad scientist¡¯s lab. My feet slow to an unwilling stop when I¡¯m a half dozen feet from the thing, and a melodic hum starts to play in the back of my mind. A somber melody reverberates through my bones, cut through every now and again by a diminishing of the volume, only for it to grow louder, but¡­ off-tune.

    My lips twist into a pained sneer as I cross the last few feet. The words ¡®I need to breathe¡¯ pulse in my mind like a popup that won¡¯t go away no matter how many times it''s clicked. I take a deep breath for no real reason, then press a hand to the spire and pull out a coin. Before I even try to put a shield in it, something whispers that it won¡¯t be enough.

    I stop dead in my tracks. ¡°Pearl? Did you say that?¡±

    She frantically shakes her head. ¡°No, but I heard it too. Something¡¯s here. But it¡¯s¡­ not here. It must be in phase.¡±

    That¡¯s terrifying. I really hope whatever¡¯s hidden there isn¡¯t something I have to fight¨Cor if it is, that it¡¯s something I can actually deal with. Not that I have much confidence or energy after Ashmaw. As I swap out the shield coin for one of my precious few 5 Worth coins, the same whisper is completely silent. Let¡¯s hope that¡¯s a good sign.

    I press it to the spire and focus. The image of a perfect seal sliding around the spire forms in my mind, and once that seal is made, the shield expands outward until there¡¯s a few inches of clearance. I take a few seconds to make sure the image is perfect, then nod to myself and spark the spell. It expands in the blink of an eye to surround the spire, then slowly starts to pull away.

    Half a minute later, there¡¯s a three inch gap between the spire and the shield holding the water at bay. But nothing¡¯s going to happen yet¨Cthe pillar can¡¯t breathe a vacuum, or whatever¡¯s in that air gap right now. I take a step forward, lean in close, and connect my helmet to the spire¡¯s shield. Air rushes in, sucking my hair towards the spire.

    I feel something change before it actually does. The text on the ground shudders and expands as if the very words were filling their lungs with a long-needed gasp of oxygen, growing beyond the letters until they¡¯re completely consumed by the floor. I try to take a step back, but the constraint around my neck makes that a little too difficult.

    Then, in a spray of stone shards, new words start to appear right where the old ones were.

    Now this definitely seems like a phase thing. I shift slightly, briefly pondering how I¡¯ll repair both shields before water can get in, but then something plinks against my arm. At first it feels like a stone shard, but right after the moment of impact, it squishes against my arm and splatters like whipped cream. As it slides down my arm, thousands of tiny pieces of¡­ stuff¡­ float through my awareness like snowflakes. I shift, ready to say something to Pearl, but my voice catches in my throat with a hoarse gasp.

    Coating every single surface around me, printed thousands of times over like the scrawlings of a madman, are six simple words.

    ¡®Don¡¯t look at me this way¡¯.

 Chapter 175: Projected Awareness

    Malice, pure and unadulterated, scythes through me in all directions. I try to tear my eyes from the words, but thanks to my awareness, that¡¯s an impossibility. Magic seeps out of the plastic into the water like rivulets of blood dissolving in a stream. Pearl hugs my cheek with a quiet murmur of worry.

    ¡°It¡¯s coming from everywhere.¡± She glances around frantically, eventually settling on the spire. ¡°We¡¯re definitely in the right place. Unhook yourself from the rock!¡±

    ¡°Working on it.¡± I grimace and summon two shield coins. ¡°Pull in closer.¡±

    Pearl squeezes herself closer to my cheek. It¡¯s just an inch away from the shield helmet, but that¡¯s more than enough. I summon a slightly smaller replacement, then put a plate of new shielding inside the hole I made in the pillar¡¯s shield. They connect with a magical pop, and I dismiss my old helmet as I jump back a few steps.

    Then I swim like my life depends on it. ¡°Where do we go?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s, um, in phase, right? So we need to find the perfect place to see it!¡± Pearl¡¯s eyes light up with realization the moment it hits me. ¡°It didn''t say ¡®don''t look at me. Just ¡®this way¡¯!¡±

    I nod in agreement. All we need to do is find the right place to look at the pillar from, and that should open up whatever the next step is. I reach for the air pole as I exhale, but my fingers wrap around empty air. And the pole floats a fair bit away, already filled with water. So now we¡¯re on a strict time limit.

    Okay. That¡¯s fine. I can work with this. The plastic¡¯s magic is hate-filled, but it doesn¡¯t feel like it¡¯s actually doing anything. All the plastic in the water hasn¡¯t turned into instruments of destruction, but since they¡¯re floating in the water like tiny landmines, I have a feeling they¡¯ll gradually become less safe to touch. But I have my awareness¨Cif there¡¯s a few different words here, then I¡¯ll easily find them. If there isn¡¯t, though, and I actually have to find the right place through dumb luck¡­

    Well, I¡¯ll just have to cross that bridge when I get there.

    ¡°Pearl. Do you see anything new?¡± I ask as I spin around to face the pillar once more. ¡°Because I haven¡¯t seen anything yet.¡±

    She instantly shakes her head. That¡¯s a bad sign. ¡°All the words are still the same, and they¡¯re slowly projecting magic towards the floating pieces of plastic. It¡¯s not fast, so it¡¯s definitely a test, but¡­ I don¡¯t know how to find one of those phase things.¡±

    I shove my hands in my pockets as I stare through my awareness. ¡°There has to be some way to find them other than dumb luck. If your magic sensitivity can¡¯t feel anything, then it¡¯s either way too powerful¨Cor not magic at all. Shit, I¡¯m completely drawing a blank. Maybe Clutter has some ideas.¡±

    One of my hands leaves my pocket, and I quickly type out a message with a short explanation asking for Clutter¡¯s help. The malicious magic grows ever so slightly stronger by the second, and unless I¡¯m completely imagining things, the pieces of plastic look like they¡¯re drifting towards me. The popup accompanying his response nearly gives me a heart attack.

    ¡°If you¡¯re looking for a phase thing, try to find something out of place without an explanation for why it looks that way. Oh, but if you¡¯re asking that, you probably already found the thing. Haha, sorry.¡± His message cuts off, and I stare at it in disbelief until the follow-up comes a couple dozen seconds later. ¡°Once you have the place, look at it from every direction that it can be in eyeshot. Since you have to see it first, only places it can be seen from can trigger it. After that, mark where you¡¯ve been, and make your way further and further away until it appears.¡±

    That makes sense. But it¡¯s nowhere near enough¨Cthere¡¯s so much of this thing that can be ¡®in eyeshot¡¯, especially with how you can get a half sphere of vision thanks to the water. From how the plastic magic feels, I¡¯ve got maybe ten minutes before this place is too dangerous to check. And my oxygen might last that long if I¡¯m damn careful with my breaths.

    ¡°Not good enough, Clutter. I need something more concrete right now.¡± I send back, then swim away from the encroaching plastic. ¡°I¡¯m looking at a piece of rock that¡¯s got at least fifty percent visibility from all directions but down. Unless you¡¯ve got a week that I don¡¯t, it¡¯s not going to work.¡±

    As I wait for the response, I keep swimming backwards. The plastic and the words continue to grow with magic, and I keep a close eye on the pillar so I don¡¯t accidentally swim too far. Right now, I don¡¯t have the tools to find what the pillar wants from me. Shields and projectiles won¡¯t do anything, purification might buy me a few minutes from the words, and none of the shellraiser tech I¡¯m severely underusing seems like it¡¯d be any help. The literal only thing I can even imagine being useful is the beacon, but it can only point us in directions Pearl already knows.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Wait. No. That¡¯s not right¨Cwhen I first found it, the thing was blasting death in all directions. Because it reflects and amplifies whatever is put in it. I haven¡¯t used it in months so it has to be fully charged. Could it¡­ no. That¡¯s way too out there. But¡­ what if it could? I¡¯m technically part shellraiser. Ah, hell, what¡¯s the harm? If it doesn''t work, it just means nothing happens.

    ¡­Unless it¡¯s not waterproof. ¡°Pearl, are the beacon and power core waterproof?¡±

    She stares at me like I just grew a second head. ¡°Of course they are. Waterproof, fireproof, pretty much anything-proof. Ooh, that¡¯s a great idea! Why didn¡¯t I think of it?¡±

    ¡°What idea?¡±

    ¡°The one you just had. Here, here¨Cbring them out. I¡¯ll set everything up. You won¡¯t actually ¡®see¡¯ from everywhere, but the beacon will project your awareness from everywhere in its area of effect.¡± She pauses when I summon the beacon and power core. Outside of my shield. ¡°Oh, um, right. Just bring it up close and I¡¯ll¡­ do it. If I collapse after, that¡¯s completely normal, okay? Remote operation is really exhausting.¡±

    I bring the pair of artifacts to my helmet, avoiding the plastic shrapnel as best as I can. The stuff still plinks harmlessly from the devices, sure, but I¡¯m not risking this shit. Pearl scrunches herself right up to the shield, closes her eyes with a deep breath that consumes no oxygen, and focuses. The beacon shudders in my hands, and a sharp prick of pain lances into my palm.

    ¡°Ow.¡± I grunt as the pain grows. ¡°The hell are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Connecting you to the beacon.¡± She rasps, as if her mouth had instantly dried out. ¡°I know it hurts, but the blood connection is needed. Unless you can turn your flesh into a conductor like I can. Okay¡­ here¡­ then I do this¡­ and I think this next¡­ good. It¡¯s all ready.¡±

    She looks back at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of emotions I can¡¯t tell. ¡°I sort of lied, Shelby. You¡¯re going to see a lot more than you expected.¡±

    ¡°Pearl?¡±

    Before I can get another word out, she closes her eyes and slumps against my helmet. Her chest heaves with deep, slumbering breaths as the beacon opens, revealing a grape-sized sphere of blood hovering and shivering perfectly in its center. I stare at the thing that feels like a reflection of myself, bloodied and immobile, and the beacon hums to life.

    My awareness blossoms. But unlike before, when Pearl augmented it, it doesn¡¯t feel like a part of me. Instead of real life, it¡¯s like I¡¯m staring at a recording of these exact moments¨Cbeamed into my head through the beacon. I lick my lips, tasting the salt of sweat and anticipation, and the me in my awareness does exactly the same.

    I watch that exact same motion play out infinite times. All at once. My brain screams at the overload of information, but the power core takes the majority of the strain somehow. In just a few seconds of being active, the thing¡¯s already a fifth drained.

    ¡°Intense.¡± I murmur to myself, and Pearl quietly laughs. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°How much of an understatement that is.¡±

    Fair. It feels like I¡¯m standing at every possible point my awareness can see, observing the entirety of my awareness inch by inch. The pillar isn¡¯t reacting yet, so I assume I¡¯m not in the right place. With a rapidly draining battery and a bleeding wound on my palm, I swim up a little and make a cycle around the pillar as quickly as humanly possible.

    Watching myself swim while also doing said swimming is¡­ unnerving, to say the least. It¡¯s like if I was a movie star, and I could see every single person watching my movies as they watched, but those people are also me. Just thinking about it threatens to bring on the mother of migraines, though, so I just accept the unbelievable oddity for what it is and focus on making it work.

    A sea of words glides by. Each of them contains something important, but not in the way that I need them to. I glance down at the power core, feeling it drop to just below half. Now all that¡¯s stopping me is my own sluggishness. So I set my jaw and swim harder than I¡¯ve ever swam in my life.

    The pillar disappears. All the words change as one¨Cshifting to ¡®right here¡¯. I grin and angle myself at the empty shield, where magic buds and grows like a flower in spring. A few kicks set me in motion, and¨C

    The water disappears. All of it. I kick helplessly in midair for the moment it takes my brain to register what just happened, and¡­ how I¡¯m completely dry now. A shield appears under me before I fall too far, and a distant scream from Clutter followed by a flicker of my magic in the distance tells me he just did the same.

    ¡°Shelby!¡± He screams from somewhere in the darkness. ¡°Did you do this?!¡±

    I flick my shield-helmet and hold up a hand to catch Pearl before she falls. ¡°Yes! Follow the sound of my voice¨CI think I¡¯ve got it!¡±

    ¡°Really?! That¡¯s great!¡± He calls, all the worry from before completely forgotten. ¡°Stand right there! I¡¯ll be there in a second!¡±

    His footsteps smack against the ground as I turn my attention to where the pillar used to be. A grey, unappealing light shines through it¨Cone that gives off the exact same sensation as the plastic stuff. My Class Card vibrates in my mind to alert me to the change, but I don¡¯t need it.

    I already know I¡¯m staring at one of the entrances to the quest.

 Chapter 176: Enter At Your Own Risk

    ¡°I¡¯m here! I¡¯m here!¡± Clutter huffs as he stumbles into my awareness range. ¡°I can barely see anything, but I¡¯m here.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°You can¡¯t see the light?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°Nothing. Why? Is there something here I¡¯m supposed to see?¡±

    That cements it¨Cthe light is pure magic. Now whether we need to wait for something to happen or just step into it¡­ that I¡¯m not sure of. But I definitely need to fill Illumisia in on the details.

    ¡°Illumisia. I think I found an entrance to the quest. Can you bring Vesa and Briony to safety, then come to my position?¡±

    An annoyed growl fills my mind. ¡°Unfortunately, no. Do whatever needs to be done, then relocate me to your location. I will inform you when it is safe to do so.¡±

    ¡°Roger that. See you in a bit.¡± I say, then turn to Clutter. ¡°Any idea how much time we have left before the quest¡¯s supposed to start?¡±

    He shrugs. It doesn¡¯t really matter¨Cthere¡¯s less than a few hours left, if even that, so leaving here isn¡¯t an option. I guess all that¡¯s left to do is see if this light needs anything else from us. And that starts with removing the shield.

    With a thought, the rest of my shields disappear. Nothing changes, which was to be expected, but still a little disappointing. I carefully take my bloody hand away from the beacon, wave the blood into the air, and send both it and the nearly empty core back to my inventory. Air stings the open wound, but it doesn¡¯t look anywhere near as bad as all the blood had me thinking. Whatever Pearl did, she did it in a way that hurt me the least.

    Speaking of¡­ I¡¯ve still got my exhausted little friend right here. ¡°How¡¯re you doing, Pearl? Slipped off to dreamland just yet?¡±

    Pearl lazily shakes her head. ¡°Not yet, but I¡¯m almost there. Do you mind if I¡­ you know¡­ nap until something else important happens?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see any issue with that. Thanks for the save back there.¡±

    I carefully maneuver Pearl close to her shell, and she crawls in with a cute groan of effort. Clutter stares at the space beyond us with wide eyes, his ears and nose filling in what his eyes aren¡¯t telling him.

    ¡°It¡¯s no problem at all, Shelby. Goodnight.¡±

    ¡°Night, Pearl.¡± I grin, then turn to Clutter. ¡°Alright, now it¡¯s our time to shine. Get some plastic out of your inventory; we¡¯re going to somehow get access to this thing.¡±

    He twitches at my sudden shift to talking to him, then raises his hands as two large clumps of plastic appear in his palms. I do the same, albeit with only my uninjured hand, and walk up to the grey light. Staticky magic snaps against my perfectly dry clothes, and a low hum like an old CRT Tv set to a dead station fills every corner of my mind at the same time. Clutter flinches as the stuff hits him, which was probably more of a surprise since he can¡¯t see it.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to touch it, and I¡¯m going to keep talking as I do. If I tell you to run, you run. If I don¡¯t say anything at all, grab me by the shoulders and drag me a few feet away.¡± I look over my shoulder at Clutter. ¡°You got all that?¡±

    ¡°Yes, everything.¡± He says seriously. ¡°Um¡­ what should I do if you just disappear?¡±

    ¡­Hrm. He can¡¯t see the magic. But the pillar also isn¡¯t here. Does that mean the absence of the thing is the ¡®phase¡¯ state, and by him not seeing it, that it¡¯ll stay gone? Or would it theoretically disappear with me if I got¡­ teleported, or summoned, or however a quest with an unknown amount of starting points actually starts.

    Well, there¡¯s one easy solution. ¡°Good point. Clutter, you go first. And everything I said¨Cyou do that instead of me.¡±

    ¡°What? You¨CI¨Cyes, of course!¡± He ecstatically rushes past me and runs¡­ right through the light, tail wagging up a storm. ¡°Am I in the right place? Where do I put the plastic? Ooh, this is so exciting!¡±

    I grin and hold back a laugh as I motion him back. ¡°Take, like, two and a half steps back. Then you¡¯re good.¡±

    ¡°...Oops.¡± he says sheepishly and takes two and a half steps back, which puts him perfectly in front of the light. ¡°Is this good?¡±

    ¡°Perfect. Now hold out the plastic and¡­ do whatever you normally do to accept a quest.¡±

    Clutter cocks his head to the side. ¡°I normally just accept whatever notification the system gives me. Did we already get notifications? Because I didn¡¯t feel my Class Card get a notification.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°None here. Well, maybe the quest just hasn¡¯t opened yet.¡± I step forward and gently nudge Clutter out of the way. ¡°Let me¨C¡±

    Prerequisites met.

    The City of Memories and Replicas opens its doors in: 00:04.

    When it does, for each entrance, one hopeful will be taken every (1) minute. The time between acceptances doubles with every person, but the count is unique to each entrance.

    This will continue until (200) people have been accepted, or 24 hours pass, upon which the doors will close until the quest is completed.

    Current occupancy: 0/200.

    Oh, shit. Four minutes. ¡°Clutter, it¡¯s happening. You didn¡¯t see this?¡±

    ¡°See what? Did I miss something?¡± He leans in desperately and waves his lumps of plastic through the light. ¡°Nothing¡¯s happening! Is it a notification, or a popup?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ guess it¡¯s a popup, since I didn¡¯t open my Class Card. And it says here ¡®Prerequisites met¡¯; maybe you haven¡¯t met them yet. Which is weird; you¡¯re here and you¡¯ve got the plastic. That should be enough.¡± I tap my foot in thought and send the plastic back to my inventory. The popup doesn¡¯t disappear, so that isn¡¯t it. ¡°Alright. What do I have that you don¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Fashion sense.¡±

    I blink, then frown at Clutter. ¡°Not the time for jokes.¡±

    ¡°Um, sorry.¡± He glances dejectedly at the ground. ¡°I wasn¡¯t joking, though.¡±

    I roll my eyes and actually try to focus on the problem. If we¡¯re looking at things I have that he doesn¡¯t¨Cor things that I did that he didn¡¯t¨Cthere¡¯s definitely more than a few. There¡¯s the fact that the tree gave me the wreath-sphere, I fought the mass of plastic on my own, I incapacitated the two-legged atrocity, I talked to Scooch and Clamber, I got the map installed into my Class Card¡­

    Really hope it¡¯s not that. Um¡­ what else¡­ oh, right! The jewelry! Stonestep Solutions went after Well for a reason. The fact that he was at a jewelry store must¡¯ve tipped them off to this part of the quest, or maybe he just told them flat-out. Luckily for us, I¡¯ve got two pieces¨Cthe armlet Clamber made specifically for me, and the ring they let me keep.

    ¡°Here.¡± I pull my ring off and shove it into Clutter¡¯s hand. ¡°Put that on.¡±

    He wraps his fingers around it with a frown. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Right, darkness. Give me it back and I¡¯ll do it for you.¡± I grab his hand and pull it towards me, then slip the ring onto his finger. A spark of magic flickers inside of it, and he pulls his hand away with a theatrical gasp. ¡°Looks like that did the trick. Now touch the light and let¡¯s make sure we¡¯re all ready to go.¡±

    ¡°Um. Uh. Okay.¡± He murmurs and timidly walks up to the light. ¡°Shelby¡­ please don¡¯t leave me alone here.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    He shakily gestures at the light. ¡°Because that feels like one of the trees.¡±

    I snap to the light, my eyes focused intently on the sensation of the magic. He¡¯s¡­ almost right. The tree felt powerful, ancient, and¡­ alive. This feels almost like that, but ¡®alive¡¯ is replaced with ¡®unknowable¡¯. Maybe whatever energy made the trees is making this quest entrance. That doesn''t bode well for whatever we¡¯re going to see inside.

    ¡°Alright. Read up, then tell me if you want to go first or second.¡±

    A nervous whimper squeaks past his lips. ¡°First? Second? We can¡¯t go in at the same time?¡±

    ¡°Not unless the description¡¯s completely wrong. Just take a look.¡± I gently push him towards the light, and though he trembles like a brittle leaf in the wind, he doesn¡¯t resist. ¡°No matter what you choose, I¡¯ll leave you enough powerful shield coins to guarantee your safety.¡±

    He looks back at me with puppy-dog eyes, then sets his quivering jaw in a straight line of resolve. It doesn''t change how the rest of him shivers and trembles, but it¡¯s his resolve I need right now.

    ¡°Okay. I trust you.¡±

    My lips curl in a real smile. ¡°Good man. We¡¯ll deal with this together¨Cand in a few hours¨Cwith Illumisia backup.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s reassuring.¡± He says seriously, then swallows hard. ¡°Okay. I can do this. I¡¯m strong enough for this. And if I¡¯m not, Shelby is here.¡±

    Somehow, that visibly reduces his tension. It¡¯s both flattering and a little unnerving knowing how much trust he has in me, even after everything that¡¯s happened the last two days. I bite my lip to keep my mouth shut as he struts into the light with as much confidence he can muster. His body goes rigid, tail sticking straight out like a thick tree branch. Mumbles and rapid eye movement give away that he¡¯s reading the exact same thing I am, except he mouthed the word ¡®zero zero¡¯ right after ¡®time remaining¡¯.

    A flash of grey magic takes hold of his ring. The plastic on the ground swirls, twists, and grows, forming a mass that¡¯s exactly Clutter¡¯s height directly between him and the light. He yelps in surprise, his voice cut off by facial distortions that blur together rapidly until his body evaporates in a spray of grey sparks.

    The mass of plastic squelches off to the side. I watch it move in stunned silence, pieces of it falling away in massive chunks as it carves itself into something almost recognizable. First comes the tail. Then the legs, torso, arms, and finally the head. It even managed to reproduce the strangely adorable and innocent expression that Clutter almost always has on.

    Clutter¡¯s plastic duplicate stretches its arms, wraps a finger around the replica of the ring I gave him, and freezes once more. The number ¡®1¡¯ carves itself into his chest, and a holographic popup intrudes upon my vision before I can fully process what I just saw.

    The City is open.

    Current Occupants: 24/200.

    To progress the quest, you must be in possession of the piece of refined ________ you used to gain access to this quest.

    If your access is stolen or lost, you cannot leave.

    If your access is destroyed, you will be replaced.

 Chapter 177: Welcome To Nowhere

    I turn to Clutter¡¯s plastic duplicate. The word ¡®replaced¡¯ bounces around in my mind like a runaway superball, smacking a few worries and fears that are too tender to touch. I need to get in there to make sure he¡¯s safe. It¡¯s only a minute. But watching the timer tick down is torturous.

    00:53. 00:50. 00:45. 00:37. Seconds crawl by like a centipede on my spine, plucking every nerve that sends a horrible, nightmarish sensation into my brain. I know he¡¯s going to be fine. But something¡­ something about the grey light just won¡¯t let me convince myself. It definitely feels longer than a minute. And when that timer finally ticks down to zero, I thrust my hand into the light and accept whatever the quest needs from me.

    Incoming Quest: Forgotten City¡¯s Emergence.

    Strange materials herald the return of a city lost to memory. You, as one of the lucky few who have managed to find something to access the city before it fully returns to the world, are invited to brave its dangers and reap its potential rewards.

    All it asks for in return is a simple guarantee; If you do not leave the city before it materializes, you forfeit your existence.

    If you are confident in your abilities, the city welcomes you with open arms, blades in every shadow, and unimaginable riches to be found.

    Accept Quest: (Y/N)?

    I mentally smash the ¡®Y¡¯ repeatedly. A spark of grey magic snaps to my armlet, and plastic around me begins to whirl and grow into a mound that¡¯s exactly my height. It twists and shifts until it¡¯s perfectly between me and the portal, then burbles out a noise that sounds surprised and quickly shoots out of the way.

    Light washes over me. My stomach lurches as a sensation like freefall overwhelms everything, and I snap my eyes open to the sight of a grey stain coating everything. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as I look around; it seems like my feet are on solid ground, and the sensations of falling don¡¯t mesh with how my clothes hang normally from my body and the hair on my shoulders. It¡¯s some kind of¡­ intermediate point.

    I shift to my awareness and immediately regret it. Nothing here feels right¨Cas if the empty space is actually filled to the absolute brim with something, and all of it is so dense with magic that it makes my eyes water. The stuff isn¡¯t necessarily powerful¨Cnot like Fleur or the krarig¨Cbut it¡¯s insanely consistent. How a single pebble is to a mountain, normal magic is to this place.

    ¡°Ah, another visitor. Please, please, take a seat.¡±

    Words whisper through the magic, and a simple grey armchair appears right under me. The seat bumps the back of my knees, pushing me into it with a grunt of surprise. Tinges of magic prod at my mind that smell like peppermint and sound like the quiet lapping of waves. I shove them away with a sneer and look around for the source of the magical words.

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to pacify me. I¡¯m not in the mood for more mental bullshittery.¡±

    The voice chuckles lightly. ¡°It was just to relax you, not turn you into a mindless puppet. You and everyone else today¨Cso untrusting. Though I can¡¯t blame you for it, since this quest sounds quite sinister when you get to the nitty-gritty. Would you like me to make a physical appearance for you?¡±

    I glance around, trying to pinpoint a sound or spark of magic, but it¡¯s truly coming from everywhere. Even from inside of me. ¡°Sure, why not? I¡¯d love to see what you think I want you to look like.¡±

    ¡°Oh, if I were to do that, I¡¯d just do this.¡± The voice says, and the space in front of me warps. Ursula appears out of nowhere, smiles kindly, and leans forward on her elbows. ¡°You miss your new friends more than you realize.¡± She says in a voice that¡¯s not her own. ¡°If you don¡¯t accept this quest, you could go back to them right this minute. Maybe train up some, kill some high Worth monsters, and get close enough to them that they can justify taking you on their quests. Doesn¡¯t that sound wonderful?¡±

    I snort in amusement and lean back in the chair. ¡°I can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re trying to get me to run away, or if this is some crazy reverse psychology. Either way, get the hell out of that fake body. You¡¯re making Ursula look weak.¡±

    ¡°Weak?¡± Not-Ursula cocks her head to the side. ¡°You think I am weaker than this woman? That¡¯s funny. Very funny. We¡¯ll see if you still think that if you clear everything my quest has to offer. I¡¯m bored talking with you. Leave.¡±

    Not-Ursula snaps her fingers. The grey flickers, and for a split second, a dimly-lit street fills the space around me. But it flickers right back, and not-Ursula frowns in annoyance.

    ¡°Of course you¡¯re one of those.¡± She sighs theatrically and extends an upturned palm at me. ¡°Give it here. Whatever your current quest wants, I¡¯ll sign it. I¡¯ve got other people who¡¯ll play my games to get to.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    What my current quest wants? I have no idea what she¡¯s talking about. But she seems to think she knows right. Whoever the hell she is. Maybe I can use that to find out more.

    I shift a little and put on a confident expression. ¡°My quest won¡¯t let me continue unless I know who¨Cor what¨Cyou are.¡±

    ¡°Aw, what? That¡¯s so boring. I¡¯m supposed to be a huge mystery until you find some cryptic information about a third of the way through the time limit. Boo! Boo, I say!¡± Not-Ursula smacks her fist against her leg, and the entirety of the grey space shudders. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not going to tell you everything. You get a few cryptic hints, and unless your quest is okay with that, you can go right back to where you came from!¡±

    Damn. Is this¡­ a kid? It sounds like a kid¨Cor a petulant adult. Or maybe someone hamming up a role. Say¡­ the role of someone administering a quest on the system¡¯s behalf. It almost makes too much sense to be true. But if it is, then all I have to do is play along.

    I nod and lace my fingers together. ¡°My previous quest accepts your terms.¡±

    Not-Urusla sniffs and raises her chin. ¡°Of course it does; my terms are more than acceptable and unbelievably fair. Bring out your Class Card so I can give it permission, and then you¡¯ll get your hints.¡±

    ¡°Ah, ah, ah¨C¡± I shake my head with a cocky grin. ¡°Hints first¨Cor else you¡¯d just send me to that dark street and pretend nothing ever happened. Unless you want to bring up a contract for something as little as this.¡±

    ¡°Psh. ¡­No.¡± Not-Ursula crosses her arms and pouts. ¡°Fiiine. Hint number one; I¡¯m not from where you¡¯re going. Hint number two; if you want to find me, there¡¯s something you have to do in this quest first. And finally, hint number three; there¡¯s a reason I have to stick to the rules of this quest. Happy?¡±

    I furrow my brows. ¡°How¡¯s that supposed to tell me who you are?¡±

    Not-Ursula throws her hands into the air in frustration. ¡°They aren¡¯t! Cryptic hints always suck, and they only make sense in retrospect! Don¡¯t blame me because you accepted those terms. Now bring out the Class Card! Hurrrrryyyy!¡±

    The whine that comes from that voice grates on my nerves like actual metal nails on a chalkboard. I plaster on a placid smile of grateful acceptance and summon my Class Card.

    ¡°Here. Let¡¯s get this show on the road.¡±

    ¡°Yes! That¡¯s all I want!¡± Not-Ursula hisses exasperatedly. My Class Card chimes, and a strange expression crosses not-Ursula¡¯s face. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re ¡®that person¡¯ that person. Well, good luck¨CI¡¯m not giving you any advantages no matter how much you beg, but the system won¡¯t be interfering either. So you¡¯re all on your own, lady! Buh-bye! I really hope I don¡¯t see you again!¡±

    All¡­ on my own. I¡¯m¡­ all on my own. Since the very first second I got to this world, and even on Earth a little, I¡¯ve always had someone after me. If what this thing is saying is true¡­ then¡­ the system can¡¯t interfere here. I¡¯ll get to experience an honest-to-god normal quest that everyone without a Worth class gets all the time.

    ¡°Whoah, are those tears? Don¡¯t cry lady; it makes you look pathetic.¡± Not-Ursula waves a hand at me dismissively. ¡°Leave already. You¡¯re¡­ wait, I have to do that. Okay, bye! Don¡¯t have fun!¡±

    The grey dissolves, and the street scene from before unfurls before my eyes. I hold my breath as the last of the magic slinks away to the edge of my awareness, and then it just¡­ leaves. Gone. Whatever that thing was doesn¡¯t matter any more. It has to obey the rules of the quest. So does the system. And, apparently, that means the system can¡¯t do jack shit while I¡¯m here.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I whisper to myself. ¡°Finally.¡±

    Pearl mumbles a sleepy congratulations, then turns over and resumes her quiet, rhythmic breathing. I stifle a giddy laugh and move my Class Card into my field of view so I can see everything that¡¯s going to happen over the next who-knows-how-long. However long it¡¯s going to be, it¡¯s going to be system-interference-free. All I have to worry about is Stonestep Solutions.

    Which, admittedly, is still a little scary. But scary in the way that I can imagine dealing with.

    Quest Accepted: Forgotten City¡¯s Emergence.

    Objective: Survive until the City emerges.

    Rewards: anything and everything. But nothing is guaranteed.

    -

    Subquest Initiated: Welcome to Nowhere.

    First Objective: Find a Nowhere Anchor and somewhere to anchor it.

    Reward: Subquest continuation, 100 Worth.

    Less info than I was expecting, but I can deal with that. There¡¯s an actual subquest, and it¡¯s giving me actual instructions. Plus, a hundred free Worth! Which isn¡¯t much, sure, but that¡¯s for doing basically nothing! Man, what clearance is this quest supposed to be if it¡¯s giving away rewards for doing basically nothing at all?

    I move to put my Class Card away, but as the popup closes, I notice another one right behind it. Guess there¡¯s another subquest I need to be aware of. With a completely unnecessary flourish of my wrist, I snap the card into place.

    Serenade of Shattered Shells.

    Name revealed.

    Quest progress made.

    My breath leaves me in one titanic, unbelieving gasp. That¡¯s the quest the book I used to upgrade my system wanted. But that book¡­ it apparently tells the story of the shellraisers. Did the system¡­ oh. It put that requirement there so nobody would be able to actually use the book. So is the quest going to be worth anything at all, or is it just something the system cooked up to keep Pearl imprisoned?

    ¡­If I want answers, apparently there are some here. Why else would the thing from the grey room have to approve anything? I set my jaw with reinvigorated purpose. Answers, loot, and excitement. All of it is within my grasp. And all I have to do is survive wherever the hell I am.

 Chapter 178: Surrounded By Walls

    Before I send my Class Card away, I flip to my messages and try to send Clutter one. A staticky burst of grey magic coats that tab before I can hit the first letter, and neon blue letters spelling ¡®access restricted¡¯ explains why before I can even ask. So that won¡¯t work. Maybe my map will have something else to say. More likely, it¡¯ll be restricted as well..

    I swipe to it, and much to my surprise, it¡¯s still here. The map itself is nearly greyed out with flickering magic, but there¡¯s a¡­ small circle around me of colours. Almost like me standing here is pushing away the grey. A tiny marker from Clamber¡¯s armlet pinpoints my position, and somewhere off in the distance, Denmary Well is still etched onto complete greyness. And just a few inches from my position is another marker¨Cthe same one that used to mark me.

    The one that¡¯s now on Clutter¡¯s finger. I spread my fingers to zoom back in on my exact position and turn to face his marker. The map puts him inside a¡­ wall-house¡­ just off to the left. Actually, now that I¡¯m thinking clearly, this place just looks damn strange.

    From where I stand, all I can see are walls, the street, and the sky. But not just one wall¨Cfive walls of increasing height, each pressed right up against each other, and each with dozens of flickering lights within their windows. It feels like I¡¯m standing inside an ancient colosseum whose seating has been transformed into walls and homes, while also split in two and unraveled into long strips. Or like I¡¯m surrounded by two great walls of China, each with even greater walls pressed up against them.

    All of which are carved out of¡­ strange materials. My eyes tell me it¡¯s stone, my nose tells me that it¡¯s metal, and my awareness screams that it¡¯s neither. Whatever it is, it¡¯s bone white, shimmering with magic, and in absolutely pristine condition. I stuff my hands into my pockets and look around for any markers that would tell me¨Cor anyone who lived here¨Cwhere I am. Only my awareness twitches, and even that doesn¡¯t help.

    ¡°How the hell did people know where they were going?¡± I wonder aloud as I walk up to the wall Clutter is apparently inside. ¡°There¡¯s no signs, no numbers, no different bricks¡­ maybe this is somewhere everyone knew? Like¡­ a barracks or something?¡±

    Nothing appears to answer my question. I cock my head to the side and knock the toe of my shoe against the wall. Grey magic shoots through the thing that looks like one solid object, twirling and spinning as it traces concentric spirals through the wall. The entire circle pulses once, then heaves away from me and rolls out of the way. Opening the way into the wall, and revealing that Clutter has already found something to mess with.

    He lazily looks over his shoulder at me and grins. ¡°Shelby! Come look at this! I think I found one of those anchor things the quest is talking about, but it¡¯s either broken or I don¡¯t know how to make it work.¡±

    ¡°Already?¡± I lean through the not-quite-tall-enough entrance and glance around the inside. It looks like a hallway. A nice tunnel, sure, but a tunnel still. ¡°Did you appear right next to it?¡±

    ¡°Nope. I spent¡­ like¡­ ten minutes looking. Then I came right back here to wait for you. And then it started to rain, and the rain yelled mean things at me, so I went into the wall for shelter.¡± He turns and proudly presents a glass tube of slimy blue goo in a grey translucent liquid. ¡°Want to try? You¡¯re better with all this random magic stuff than I am.¡±

    I furrow my brow and step right up to him. The ¡®door¡¯ slides back into place behind me, and the flickering firelight that seemingly comes from everywhere grows slightly brighter. He nods at the forearm-length tube and inches it a little closer to my chest. I take one hand out of my pocket and accept the thing¨Cwhich doesn¡¯t feel or seem like much at all.

    ¡°Clutter, how long have you been here?¡± I ask as I flip the thing around. ¡°I went in after you as soon as I could, and the thing I talked to only held me up for¡­ three or four minutes at most. That¡¯s not long enough.¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°Nope, it isn¡¯t. I¡¯d say the distortion here is probably¡­ one to ten? So one minute outside is ten minutes wherever we are. That¡¯s way better for us than the inverse, because imagine coming out after a hundred days and finding out that it¡¯s been a thousand or so days real-time. That¡¯d be messed up.¡±

    ¡°So forty to fifty minutes, then. I guess that checks out.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, close to that. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less, but pretty close. Oh, I already tried identifying the tube, and it told me it was an anchor catalyst. So¨Cwait. Catalyst means something that makes something else go.¡± Clutter sighs and shakes his head. ¡°Dang it. I knew I should¡¯ve talked out loud while I was working, but I didn¡¯t want to risk anything finding me.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Anything? ¡°You¡¯ve seen monsters?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, not monsters. I¡¯m just being really cautious. Because of¡­ you know¡­¡± He glances around, then leans in close. ¡°Stonestep Solutions is here somewhere.¡±

    Clutter nods seriously as he steps away. I can¡¯t fault him for being cautious, but since we haven¡¯t seen anyone yet, I have a feeling we all got sent to different parts of the city. Depending on how big it is, we might not see anyone else for days. Or we could have a dangerous run-in before three hours pass. I hum to myself in thought, then send the catalyst to my inventory and motions for Clutter to lead the way.

    He stares at me blankly. ¡°I don¡¯t know where we¡¯re supposed to go. Honestly, I don¡¯t know how you knew where to find me. Where was the first place you checked?¡±

    ¡°Right here. My map lead me to you.¡± I summon my Class Card for a second, then send it away. ¡°You¡¯ve got one too, right? Does it not work?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Actually, almost everything doesn¡¯t work. Here, take a look.¡± He summons his Class Card, then stands so I can see as he scrolls through a mass of greyed-out tabs. ¡°The only things I have access to are my stats, identify, quests, and the plastic.¡±

    ¡°Just those?¡± I narrow my eyes as he swipes to his inventory, and sure enough¨Cevery square but the ones with plastic are either empty or greyed out. ¡°Huh. I guess the quest didn''t bother telling us that we won¡¯t have access to all our shit. Your spells and skills still work, though?¡±

    He nods and sends it away. ¡°I tried almost all of them, and each worked just fine. It¡¯s only the things and a bunch of normal Class Card functions. That¡¯s probably why your map works, right? Because you got it looking for this quest?¡±

    ¡°Seems like the most logical answer.¡± I reply and open my Class Card to check what¡¯s greyed out. Almost all my items, my messages, my buff screen¡­ basically everything. Except, for some reason, my shellraiser items are still here. ¡°Looks like a few of my things survived.¡±

    ¡°Aw, lucky.¡± Clutter grumbles. ¡°I bought a bunch of stuff for this, and now it¡¯s going to waste. But hey, that just means you¡¯ll be better at protecting me! So it isn¡¯t all that bad.¡±

    I nod absentmindedly as I stare at my inventory. The only reason I can think of for these things staying is because they¡¯re tied to my Soul. So if anyone else has a weapon tied into their class, like Ursula with her briefcase, they¡¯d be able to bring it in too. That means I can¡¯t assume people will be unarmed. Not that I was going to, but now the doubt won¡¯t even be in my mind.

    ¡°Alright, Clutter, lead the way. Find us one of these anchors.¡±

    Clutter blinks. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to do that.¡±

    ¡°Yet.¡± I pat him on the shoulder with a smile. ¡°You don¡¯t know how to find one yet. But you¡¯re the scout I¡¯m trusting here, so you¡¯ll figure it out soon enough. Doesn¡¯t seem like the time limit is incredibly strict, so even if it takes a day or so, that¡¯s fine.¡±

    He purses his lips and glances down the tunnel. Tiny wisps of magic lick at his eyes and ears like fireflies dancing in the night, and the tension in his shoulders doesn¡¯t increase or decrease as he silently stares on. I step to the side to let him focus, tap my heel against the wall, and step out into the street to try and get my bearings.

    Now that I can get a better look at it, the sky is¡­ weird. Clouds and some grey spheres in the sky look more like cardboard cutouts glued to a giant glass dome than actual things, but that doesn¡¯t mean they aren¡¯t real. Nothing looks like it¡¯s producing the dim light that coats the city in a grey, ghastly glow¨Cbut again, that doesn¡¯t mean nothing is.

    As I stare up at the ¡®clouds¡¯ and ¡®moons¡¯ as they slowly but visibly move across the sky, warring senses of ease and unease clash in my heart. Ease for the fact that I¡¯m apparently safe from the system here, and unease from the absolute unknowns that we¡¯re staring straight in the empty face. I rub the holster on my arm and try not to remember Clutter talking about how the rain yelled at him, then turn back and stare at Clutter staring down the tunnel.

    I give him five minutes of silence. But that¡¯s enough. ¡°Do you think you¡¯re going to be able to find the anchor? Or should we just start walking?¡±

    He smacks his lips, then nods to himself. ¡°I think I can find something. These low-ground tunnels are just for walking, so they won¡¯t be here. I looked in the next two walls up, and each of those have their own things about them. Oh, and don¡¯t stand in the streets if you can help it¨Cthe weather is really volatile here.¡±

    Just as he finishes his words, one of the grey circles in the sky creaks open on a massive hinge. Searing light pours through the open space, and it instantly feels like I could get a sunburn just from standing outside. I grimace and shield my eyes from the ¡®sun¡¯, considering for a few seconds what I want to do. Then something lands on my arm with a woody ¡®pop¡¯, and a flare of pain lances through my nerves.

    Tiny, pea-sized embers rain down from the open hole like hail. I blink in disbelief, and when the second one scorches my knuckle, I hiss in annoyance and step back inside. Before the door can slide shut behind me, I notice a small flare of magic in the material that makes up the street¨Cand the ember disappears before it can hit it.

    ¡°So that¡¯s why the street wasn¡¯t wet.¡± I note as I shake off the char. ¡°So where are we going, Clutter? One of the upper walls?¡±

    He nods and points straight up. ¡°I saw some tower-like things on the highest parts of the walls. If I was going to put anchors somewhere, that¡¯s where I¡¯d put them.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good.¡± I motion at the part of the wall that doesn¡¯t lead to the street. ¡°Lead on.¡±

 Chapter 179: Strangely Empty Walls

    Clutter walks straight at the wall that doesn¡¯t lead to the street and presses his hand to the material. His ring gleams for a split second at the contact, then a spiraling circular door slides out of the way. He confidently walks right through it, and I follow him with my awareness on medium alert. There¡¯s no way a quest like this won¡¯t have monsters to fight at some point, and considering what we saw to get here, I¡¯m betting they¡¯ll be made of plastic.

    ¡­Speaking of, there¡¯s been a huge lack of the stuff from what I¡¯ve seen so far. The walls definitely aren¡¯t made of plastic, and neither was the catalyst¨Cso maybe it¡¯s going to show up later. At least that¡¯s what I¡¯d assume.

    ¡°Okay, be careful around these tiles.¡± Clutter motions as the two-foot wide squares under our feet. ¡°Some of them are trapped with magic, but they¡¯re easy to spot¨Cthey were ripped up and the traps put under them, not made that way, so they¡¯re not seamless. Oh, you can probably just feel where they are. Pretend I didn¡¯t say anything!¡±

    I nod absentmindedly as I step over a tile that shudders with magic. Clutter¡¯s right, though¨Cthe thing is ever so slightly raised compared to all the others, and it¡¯s a little more beat up. Like someone had to force it off to get the trap under it. If we hadn¡¯t been among the first people to enter the quest, I would¡¯ve expected this to be the work of one of the others who came in a different entrance.

    But the truth is that someone did it. Whether that¡¯s the system, the thing that imitated Ursula, or something we haven¡¯t run into yet, it proves this city isn¡¯t completely untouched.

    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s different here?¡± I ask as Clutter leads me down a tunnel that looks a lot like the other one. Except for the tiles instead of solid ground, that is. ¡°The ceiling¡¯s exactly the same height, so is there more above us?¡±

    He nods. ¡°There are a bunch of things that look like apartments up there, but I haven¡¯t found any stairs. I had to climb the wall to get up there, but I don¡¯t really think that¡¯s how I was supposed to do it. Oh, and I also found these!¡±

    Clutter jogs ahead, dodging trapped tiles without looking down at his feet, until he reaches a random stretch of wall that looks a lot like the rest of it. He presses his palm against it just like before, and it opens up to¡­ a smaller room. My awareness tells me there¡¯s nothing in there, but I want to see it with my own two eyes just to be sure.

    He steps aside with an excited wave to give me a better look. Carved into the wall is a simple alcove¨Cthree tiles deep, two tiles wide, and about eight feet tall¨Cwith absolutely nothing in it. I glance down at the floor, and sure enough, none of the tiles are trapped. It¡¯s just¡­ completely empty. For absolutely no reason.

    ¡°The hell is this?¡± I ask as I step inside and feel at the walls. None of them react to my touch. ¡°It¡¯s like a storage shed. But why is it off a main tunnel?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just found it.¡± Clutter says with a shrug. ¡°There¡¯s one about every twenty feet, so whatever they were storing here, they needed to store a lot of it. If you don¡¯t touch the right place, you just go into the next wall. Pretty interesting, huh?¡±

    I don¡¯t know if ¡®interesting¡¯ is the word I¡¯d use for it, but it¡¯s definitely odd. My first instinct was that these tunnels were just for transportation¨Cespecially after the sky threw burning embers at me¨Cbut with the tiles and the storage? Well, now I don¡¯t know what to think. Because they definitely wouldn¡¯t need this many tunnels just for people to walk in.

    ¡°Did you find the catalyst in one of these?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°Further up. I just wanted to show them to you. Ooh, do you want to see one of the apartments? There¡¯s no furniture, or doors, or anything else, but they definitely have the layout of an apartment.¡±

    ¡°Maybe later. Let¡¯s just go for the towers.¡±

    ¡°Okay. But we¡¯re definitely coming back¨Cthere¡¯s no way all this would be empty for no reason.¡± Clutter turns away from the alcove and continues walking. ¡°You know, I thought the doors would be hexagonal. Not circles.¡±

    I brush off my hands and walk to his side. ¡°Because of the plates?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, because of the plates. One of them had the big deposit of plastic in it, and it turned the map into something your Class Card could process. Until I saw the circle in the wall, I fully expected it to turn into a hexagon.¡±

    Huh. I guess I can see where he¡¯s coming from. The tiles on the floor are perfect squares, the doors and ¡®moons¡¯ in the sky are spheres, and everything else seems to be one solid mass. No hexagons in sight.

    ¡°Maybe that¡¯s the point.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    He tilts his head to the side. ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡±

    ¡°The hexagons. We haven¡¯t seen any yet, which we¡¯re assuming means they aren¡¯t important here. So what happens when we do see one?¡± I trace a hexagon in the air with my fingertip that Clutter follows with his eyes. ¡°It¡¯ll stand out even more. Like an ¡®x marks the spot¡¯ kind of thing.¡±

    ¡°Ooooh. That makes sense. Maybe the hexagon is important to whoever used to live here. Or¡­ or maybe it isn¡¯t important at all, and it only exists here because the system put it here. A kind of ¡®only for the quest¡¯ thing.¡± Clutter¡¯s eyes shine with confidence as he nods to himself. ¡°The hexagons only showed up in the ring Clamber made, I assume your armlet, and the actual rock we took the plastic from. I bet it¡¯s one of the hints to help us with the quest.¡±

    ¡°Just like my map. But with information instead of a physical thing.¡± I muse as I cross my arms in thought. ¡°Makes me wonder what kind of hints or advantages all the other ways to get into the quest would¡¯ve given us. Who knows¨Cmaybe the sphere-wreath will actually do something in here.¡±

    Clutter vigorously nods in agreement. ¡°Take it out! Give it a try!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡±

    I shrug, then summon the sphere-wreath. The words ¡®Marywell Den¡¯ are still right there on the wreath, pointing in the direction of where I left Illumisia, but the sphere itself has undergone more than a few changes. To be specific¡­ it¡¯s broken out into hexagons. Each of which vary from blazing light pink to icy powder blue, and everything in between. Most of them are shades of purple, which I assume is the intermediate point between the two colours, but a few of them are so white on either side that I can barely make out any red or blue.

    ¡°That¡¯s new.¡± I state the obvious after a few seconds of silence. ¡°I guess that means the proximity detector idea was a good one¡­ but¡­ then why didn¡¯t I notice any changes where the thing led me to? Was Marywell Den a complete red herring?¡±

    Clutter leans in and taps one of the hexagons. He yips in surprise as the colour of the hexagon spreads over the entire sphere, leaving only an extremely condensed mass of hexagons on the underside. We both stare at the strange transformation for a few more seconds, but nothing changes. And I have no real idea what any of the hexagons actually mean.

    I wrinkle my nose and turn around. The sphere¡¯s hexagons shift so they stay in the exact same orientation as before¨Clike a compass needle¨Cand I¡¯m no less confused than before.

    ¡°What colour was the thing where you went with Illumisia?¡± Clutter eventually asks.

    ¡°No colour. Well, the colour of the stone we know this thing is.¡± I lower the sphere-wreath and summon a shield to attach it to my belt. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s some kind of resonance thing. The closer it gets to where it¡¯s supposed to be, the less it reacts.¡±

    ¡°Then why wasn¡¯t it always reacting since we found it?¡±

    I set my mouth in a thin line and stare at Clutter. ¡°I have absolutely no freaking idea.¡±

    ¡°Neither do I.¡± He adds helpfully. ¡°Want to just ignore it for a while?¡±

    ¡°Not really sure we have the ability to do that¡­ but sure. Why not.¡± I shrug and try to put the thing out of my mind. My awareness makes that an impossible task, but it feels like it¡¯s just in my peripheral vision, not dead center. ¡°Alright. No more detours. We can go sightseeing and theory crafting after we set up one of these anchors.¡±

    Clutter grins and breaks into a jog. ¡°Race you there!¡±

    I roll my eyes, but jog after him anyway. Neither of us put our all into it, since we¡¯re not stupid enough to exhaust ourselves in a dangerous and unfamiliar place, but getting my blood pumping does feel good. A little¡­ better than usual, actually. The air slides down my throat easier, my muscles don¡¯t scream as loudly, and everything just seems¡­ a little easier.

    My mind snaps to the fact that they greyed out my buffs and debuffs tab as well. The system wouldn¡¯t do that without a reason. And I highly doubt slightly increasing my stamina is the point.

    ¡°Hey, Clutter.¡± I take a few long strides and tap him on the shoulder. ¡°Do you feel like your mana¡¯s running out faster? Or¡­ anything strange at all?¡±

    He inhales deeply, as if the air itself was refreshing. ¡°The air¡¯s filled with mana here. So no¨Cmy mana isn¡¯t running out any time soon. It¡¯s probably one of the quirks of the quest¨Cor a way to make sure people with higher clearance don¡¯t just steamroll it for the rest of us.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s possible?¡± I ask, not even trying to contain my surprise.

    ¡°Of course it is. I bet the mana-air here makes it so everyone regenerates at the same pace¨Cwhich is a buff for weaker people, and a huge nerf for strong people. But¡­ that wouldn¡¯t be enough to make the horizonguard from Stonestep Solutions not just¡­ clear this in a few hours. So there¡¯s gotta be more effects we just can¡¯t trigger on our own.¡±

    ¡°Hrm. What do you think would happen if Illumisa came here?¡±

    Clutter snorts out a laugh. ¡°Nothing. If she doesn¡¯t want a buff or nerf to apply to her, I don¡¯t think anything could stop her. Of course, that¡¯d mean we wouldn¡¯t get any rewards from this. Which, now that I think of it, probably nerfs the horizonguard more than anything else the system could do.¡±

    If that¡¯s the case¡­ then why¡¯s the horizonguard here in the first place? I can¡¯t assume anything before I can see it with my own two eyes. Until I have confirmation of this quest¡¯s clearance rating, nothing¡¯s on or off the table. There¡¯s a very real possibility this quest is for¡­ like¡­ clearances 5-50 and it has a completely different set of objectives for each power bracket.

    But even that is an assumption, so I can¡¯t pretend that it¡¯s right. Damn. Just knowing one person is here with clearance so much higher than mine throws a wrench into all my theories. So¡­ I guess it¡¯s time to stop theorizing and keep jogging.

    At least until the quest gives me something concrete to work with.

 Chapter 180: Anchorage

    Miles and miles of tunnels creep slowly by as Clutter leads us to an end goal that¡¯s apparently far further away than I initially thought. The scenery doesn¡¯t change at all¨Csquare tiles and slightly high ceilings are completely stagnant¨Cand I eventually pull out my Class Card to see if we¡¯re even moving at all. A coloured stain traces our path through the walls, but it¡¯s so thin and sharp that I have no idea how I¡¯m supposed to map this place out.

    Clutter stops on a dime and stares at the wall. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re here.¡±

    I step hard on a safe tile and grunt at the pain of jamming my leg bones into my waist, then turn to see what¡¯s caught his eye. It¡¯s nothing. A lot of exactly the same stuff as we¡¯ve seen for about twenty minutes now, and my awareness isn¡¯t feeling anything new. So whatever he¡¯s looking at must come from his skill.

    ¡°So we go through another wall, then up?¡±

    He nods. ¡°Exactly right. If I haven¡¯t messed up, we should be in a straight line with one of the towers I saw earlier. Do you think we should get ready to fight something?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°No idea. I¡¯d bet we¡¯re not going to see anything until we get a little further in the quest, but I could be proven wrong in a few seconds. Lead the way.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± He presses a hand to the wall and steps through, then frowns. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if what you said is a ¡®yes¡¯ or not.¡±

    ¡°Neither am I, buddy. But take these just in case.¡± I drop three shield coins in his hands as I walk past, and into¨Cyou guessed it¨Canother same-y tunnel. ¡°Man, this place is so weird. It feels like we¡¯re in a subway, not an actual city.¡±

    Clutter tilts his head to the side as he closes his hand around my coins. ¡°What¡¯s a subway?¡±

    ¡°A tunnel for trains to run through.¡± I say as quickly as possible. ¡°Do you know what trains are?¡±

    ¡°I think I do. But I¡¯ve never been on one¨Cthe tracks get attacked too often for anyone but the super rich and powerful to have them.¡± He shoves my coins into his pocket and jogs ahead of me. ¡°Plus, when you¡¯ve got skills and spells like ours, you don¡¯t really need permanent long-range transportation. Just set up a teleporter array and you can have people going wherever they want, whenever they want.¡±

    ¡°A teleporter array.¡± I state flatly. ¡°I refuse to believe you have those here.¡±

    Clutter raises an eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s not that hard to pay a bunch of people with teleportation spells to stick around specific places. But it is super duper expensive, so Palastia doesn¡¯t have one. Heck, I don¡¯t think any city on our continent has one.¡±

    He considers a teleporter array to be a bunch of random people with teleportation spells. I¡­ guess I had my brain set a little too close to ¡®sci-fi¡¯ for my definition. Honesty, you could probably make some damn good Worth by sending rich people wherever they want to go in the blink of an eye. If I was in a different situation, that could¡¯ve been a damn good way of making Worth.

    ¡°Sounds convenient if you can afford it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it probably is. But I think people would be annoyed if they got my kind of teleportation and they were expecting yours.¡± He laughs to himself and presses his hand against another wall, which opens up to another tunnel. ¡°Most people don¡¯t want to do an hour-long walk to get where they¡¯re going. Especially if they just paid to be sent there in an instant.¡±

    ¡°I can see that. Hey, what if you put a rickshaw in your starway? Then you could advertise it as a faster, safer alternative¨Cnot just teleportation.¡±

    He scratches his chin in thought. ¡°Hmm. It would probably take more mana to get the rickshaw in and out before the starway collapses, but I guess I could. Um, if you¡¯re telling me this because I have to find a new job after this is over¡­¡±

    I shake my head with a laugh. ¡°Sorry¨Cyou¡¯re stuck with me now. You know my secrets, you get lifelong employment¨Cwhether you like it or not. And hey, soon enough, I might actually be able to pay you for your work.¡±

    ¡°Oh. That¡¯s great.¡± He sighs with relief. ¡°I thought you were going to let me go after this. Do you want to go up first, or should I?¡±

    We share a look. He sets his mouth in a thin line and bends down with his fingers laced together for me to step on.

    ¡°Me first, then?¡±

    He nods. ¡°You¡¯re better at protecting yourself. And I¡¯m good at climbing walls. It works out like that.¡±

    I shrug; either option works for me. With a nod to confirm that Clutter¡¯s ready too, which he returns, I step onto his hand and put my palms on his shoulders.

    ¡°On three. One. Two. Three!¡±

    As the last word leaves my mouth, Clutter¡¯s body tenses. He stands up with a grunt and pushes my foot as high as he possibly can, which I add to by jumping to the best of my abilities with one leg. Much to my surprise, the roof of the tunnel screams towards my face at a breakneck pace. A surprised yelp scrapes free from my throat, and I throw my hands in front of me to open a door.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Before my skin touches ¡®stone¡¯, the door illuminates and swishes open far faster than any of the others have. I blink as I sail into the next floor, which is nearly as empty as the first, and the floor closes behind me before I can even worry about falling back through it.

    ¡°Erk.¡± I grunt as my ass hits solid ground. ¡°Not what I expected, but it worked.¡±

    I rub my backside as I stand and look around. Not much seems different¨Cdefinitely not the apartments Clutter said were in that first tunnel¨Cbut there¡¯s definitely a few small changes from the tunnel. For one, the ceilings are much lower¨Conly about two feet taller than I am. There are some raised parts in the ground, hollowed out on one side like a permanent desk, and small rectangular protrusions hang from the ceiling above each and every one of them. My awareness doesn¡¯t react any more than it did on the previous level, but instead of the tiles feeling trapped, now the ¡®desks¡¯ do.

    Actually, now that I take a closer look¡­ the desks are almost evenly laid out in the hallway. I¡¯m not sure exactly how much, and some are further apart than the others, but they¡¯re all turned so the hollow sides face the walls with about two feet of clearance between them. If I didn¡¯t have my awareness, I definitely would''ve thought they were solid blocks.

    The sound and light of another door opening draws my attention to a spot right close to one of the walls. ¡°Careful, Clutter. The desks are trapped.¡±

    ¡°I¨Cgrngh, I know.¡± He grunts as he struggles to pull himself through the hole. ¡°This level is where I found the catalyst. It was just sitting on one of the rectangles like someone forgot their lunch at work. At first I thought it was a huge trap, but obviously it wasn¡¯t. Unless I actually died there, and I¡¯m hallucinating now?¡±

    I shake my head as I walk over to give him a hand. ¡°Nope¨Creal as can be. You think everywhere has a desk hall with a catalyst in it?¡±

    He accepts my offered hand with a nod of thanks, and I easily pull him free. The door slides shut behind him, and he pants as he dusts off his chest. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe? I highly doubt each wall has the exact same makeup as the ones we¡¯re in.¡±

    ¡°I don''t know. The system could¡¯ve made this place pretty damn symmetrical.¡± I shrug and motion at the ceiling. ¡°Go up again?¡±

    He nods. ¡°Until we reach the top.¡±

    <hr>

    A dozen floors later, we emerge through the top of the wall. Chest-high barriers that shimmer further up with magic block us from jumping off, but not the view¨Cwhich is even stranger from up here. I walk to the edge and rap my knuckles against the face-height shimmering magic, which knocks me back just a little with the smallest amount of force.

    It¡¯s¡­ weird. Clusters of walls scrape through a seemingly endless cityscape like stone spines of varying sizes, but they¡¯re always positioned in the same way¨Clike a sine wave with the bottom chopped off. They start small, get larger, then start getting smaller again until it hits street level. Twists and turns are all taken in groups, and if I could see the city from far up above, I bet it¡¯d look like one giant maze.

    Clutter walks up next to me and quietly gasps. ¡°It¡¯s like a giant maze.¡±

    I grin and gently elbow him in the side. ¡°Just what I was thinking. Sure leaves a lot of room for the quest to get weird, but right now¡­ it still feels like we¡¯re missing a huge chunk of everything. Doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Sure does.¡± He agrees with a nod. ¡°I wonder why. The quest was so cryptic in how we started it, and Stonestep Solutions went straight for it. What do they know about this place that we don¡¯t?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°The system said there were supposed to be treasures, so probably that. Hell, maybe we just got put in a safe place because we¡¯re low clearance. Whatever it is, standing around and talking about it isn¡¯t going to do a damn thing.¡±

    With a turn of my heel, I shift to face the tower that¡¯s a little further down the wall than Clutter thought. It¡¯s blocky, square, and about as big as an apocalypse-watch tower. Or a firewatch tower for the places that still have fires to worry about. I motion at it, and Clutter nods in understanding. We both make our way to the structure, I put my hand on the side, and a circular door pushes outwards at me instead of inwards.

    I raise an eyebrow and take a step back. The door slides out of the way to reveal blocky steps spiraling upwards. A little caution seeps into my bones as I carefully creep into the tower, which smells and tastes ever so slightly different than the rest of this place. It reminds me of a hospital¨Cclean but extremely harsh.

    Clutter steps back, grimaces, and covers his nose with one hand. ¡°Too strong. Way too strong.¡±

    ¡°Want to stay back?¡±

    He silently wars with himself for all of two seconds before shaking his head. ¡°No way. I¡¯ll endure it for the sake of the quest.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s get climbing.¡± I say with a gesture at the rectangular steps that jut straight out of the tower walls. ¡°Watch your head.¡±

    I confidently place my foot on the first step. It holds easily, so I bring up my other foot. Nothing so much as a creak meets my ears, and I shift my weight onto the second step. That, too, doesn¡¯t react to my presence. I shift my awareness to feel for magic, but aside from something radiating from the top of the tower, it seems completely inert. No traps anywhere to be found.

    Clutter follows closely behind as I ascend. He grumbles and whines the entire time, but I¡¯m willing to cut him a little slack, seeing as the smell and general feel of this tower is starting to grate on my nerves. Lights from nowhere flick on at the halfway mark, blazing straight down on us like spotlights in a surgical bay. I sneer at the sensations that seem tailor-made to bother me, summon a purification coin just in case, and soldier on.

    Step by step, the sensations grow. Not even close enough to cause harm, or to dissuade us from climbing, but if this was a purely for-fun trip, I would¡¯ve turned back the second the tower tried to blind us. The unsettling smell of utter cleanliness saturates my nose so thoroughly that I swear I can feel my sinuses getting sanitized, but before I can sneeze out a batch of medical-grade hand sanitizer, my foot touches the top step. I sigh in relief and pull myself up, but obviously, the smell doesn¡¯t end here.

    It emanates from a set of concentric circles, each stacked on top of each other, until the smallest one reaches up to my belly button. A crackling well of grey magic in the smallest one emits the sanitization stench, and without a second thought, we press the catalyst into the perfectly-sized holster.

    Subquest: Welcome to Nowhere.

    Objective Complete. 100 Worth granted.

    Continuation: The anchor has been activated. Defend it until it integrates with the city.

    Reward: Continuation of subquest.

 Chapter 181: Creeping Towers

    Clutter¡¯s tail begins to wag as the sterile stench fades. ¡°Defend? From what? Do I finally get to fight?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t see why you wouldn¡¯t.¡± I wave a visible flare of grey-ish fumes away and turn to look over the city. ¡°My money¡¯s on plastic creatures. Maybe even more of those masses I fought at the graveyard.¡±

    ¡°Well as long as a tree doesn¡¯t appear, you can count on me!¡± Clutter puffs his chest out with pride. ¡°I might not have much firepower, but I¡¯m sure I can take down at least a dozen of them!¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at his boast. ¡°Sure, Clutter. Sure. The glass up here should stop anything from coming in, so let¡¯s get down to the wall and get ready.¡±

    He nods eagerly and hurries down the stairs before I can turn to face him. There isn¡¯t a single doubt in my mind that he wants to prove himself, but I have absolutely no confidence in his ability to fight. I¡¯ll have to keep an eye on him to make sure he can at least stay alive when whatever we¡¯re supposed to defend this place from appears.

    I summon and drop a relocation coin on the floor, give the strange concentric-circle pillar a quick look to make sure it¡¯s actually descending, and make my way down the blocky stairs. My awareness hasn¡¯t detected anything that could be dangerous yet, so as long as whatever¡¯s coming isn¡¯t way too powerful, they haven¡¯t breached the tower yet. I trail my fingertips along the ¡®stone¡¯ wall to feel for any changes as I walk, and when I reach the bottom, I¡¯m confident that the quest didn¡¯t spawn anything in the tower to mess with us.

    Clutter tightens a silky black sash around his hand that pulses with magic, and when he notices my presence, shoots me a brilliant smile. He already wrapped his other hand in the same sash, with a bit of extra fluttering in an invisible breeze as he ties off his other hand, and the spell in it feels exactly the same.

    I nod at the fabric. ¡°Is that one of Dell¡¯s creations?¡±

    ¡°Yep! Just the fabric, though¨Cthe spell is mine. She did something to it so it absorbs spells like sponges absorb water.¡± He flexes his fingers for emphasis, and a thin layer of shadowy magic shimmers over his hand. ¡°I¡¯m going to go completely invisible now. Tell me if you can still sense me.¡±

    A shimmering curtain of midnight blue as dark as the ocean depths wipes over Clutter¡¯s body. As it moves, Clutter¡¯s body simply disappears from view¨Cno shimmers, no distortions. But my awareness still senses his magic like he¡¯d done nothing at all. He raises a hand and waves. I wave right back.

    ¡°Okay, so you can still see me. Can you hear me?¡± His voice appears from everywhere at once, surrounding me in a cacophony of him. ¡°Actually, I mean¨C¡±

    ¡°No, I can¡¯t hear just one voice.¡± I interrupt and put my hand to the wall. ¡°I¡¯m not immune to your spell, I can just see through the invisibility part. Don¡¯t assume whatever we¡¯re about to fight can¡¯t see you until you confirm it for yourself, got it?¡±

    He lowers his hands and nods seriously. ¡°I won¡¯t get hurt. You be safe, too¨Cwe don¡¯t have any health potions to fall back on. And we both know I won¡¯t be able to protect you on my own.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and step through the door. ¡°Where¡¯s that bravado from a second ago?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s still here. Just being pushed down by realistic worries.¡± He chuckles, and for a second, his everywhere-voice sounds nervous. ¡°You¡­ you¡¯ll come help me if I¡¯m in trouble, right?¡±

    What kind of a question is that? ¡°Of course I will. We¡¯re in this together.¡±

    He sighs in relief. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯m going to go do some actual scouting¨Care you going to stay here and wait for them?¡±

    I nod. ¡°No reason to run around and put this place in danger.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll be close-ish.¡± He says, then zips off.

    My awareness feels him move further into the distance, and within seconds, he¡¯s gone. I crack my knuckles and set a few shield coins in my holster as insurance as I scan the horizon for any signs of enemies. For now, everything seems calm. But that can change at any second, since the floors can easily open up and the ¡®sky¡¯ can do the same. So I need to stay on alert.

    I lick my dry lips as the minutes tick by. My mind is constantly on edge, but there¡¯s still a confidence behind it that keeps me calm. This is normal. It¡¯s a sanctioned quest that the system put in place before I even got my Class Coin. Unless it thought one of the other Worth classes were going to show up, there¡¯s absolutely no chance any of these quest indicators can be tricks. Well, not the kind of deadly tricks the system tried to bait me with¨Cjust the normal kind.

    Like delaying the enemies from spawning so I let my guard down. Or creating a few very stealthy ones instead of an army. Either one¡¯s just as likely as the other, and there¡¯s a dozen other possibilities that could easily come to pass. They¡¯re all normal, though. Hell, maybe the system wants us to defend the tower from the weather. That¡¯s completely possible.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    With that thought in mind, I glance up at the sky. One of the circles is in relatively the same position, but the clouds and all the other grey circles have moved significantly. I wonder if there are weather patterns here, or if the thing that pretended to be Ursula just has control over everything. I lean back to rest against the tower, and yelp in surprise as nothing breaks my descent for over a foot.

    My head meets stone with a dull thud. I wince and spin around to stare up at the tower, rubbing the back of my head all the while. Did¡­ did the tower just move? Or did the floor move, and I moved with it? My awareness didn¡¯t sense anything, so there wasn¡¯t any magic in play¡­ and the tower must¡¯ve shifted slowly enough that I didn¡¯t notice it.

    ¡°The hell?¡± I mutter to myself and slowly walk around the tower. ¡°There¡¯s no sign of this thing moving. Does that mean I¡¯m the one that got moved? Is this what we¡¯re supposed to protect the anchor from?¡±

    I grimace as I summon two projectiles just in case. My awareness still can¡¯t feel anything close, and since Clutter hasn¡¯t screamed yet, I doubt he¡¯s found anything to fight. Whatever¡¯s happening is happening here¨Ceither on the top of the wall, or on the ceiling beneath us. Question is, can I risk leaving the tower unguarded and check down below?

    The tower shifts ever so slightly, bumping into my toes. That settles it; I need to find what¡¯s happening before this thing runs away on me. I plant a relocation coin on the side of the tower and cover it with a small shield so it stays in place, then take a few steps away and plant my hand on the ground without taking my eyes off the tower.

    Magic gleams under my feet. The tower doesn¡¯t react at all. I shake my head and push away the strange feeling that¡¯s rolling in my gut, then stick my head through the floor-door so I can get an upside-down look around. At first glance, nothing seems out of place. There are more protrusions and trough-shaped rectangles in this wall-tunnel than the others, but nothing that screams ¡®enemy¡¯ to me.

    But my awareness latches onto something else. Something on the ceiling just a few feet away, right underneath where the tower is. I turn and take in the strange, root-like appendages that dangle from the ceiling and thrash violently about as small rivulets of magic trickles into them. Flashes of grey shoot through these ¡®roots¡¯, thin as they are, and then they just¡­ dangle there. Motionless like a jellyfish¡¯s tentacles as it hangs in the water.

    And before my very eyes, they start to grow. With every droplet of magic that drains into them, the tentacle that absorbs it grows a few inches longer. I stare, mesmerized by the strange display of bizarre magic, as the droplets of magic become increasingly frequent. The tentacles grow at a breakneck pace, scratching and snapping at the ground below like fallen power lines once they¡¯re long enough, and then something else falls.

    A bead of coloured magic. Thick, slimy blue magic. My mind snaps back into the moment at the sight of the stuff from the catalyst, and as the bead of blue magic trails down, creating a trail of something that looks like a magical combination between spider silk, mycelium, and seafoam, the rest of the tentacles shudder as if a chill just shot through them.

    It doesn¡¯t take a genius to figure out that the catalyst is creating the tentacles. But I have absolutely no goddamn idea how that ties into our quest.

    I frown and flip back out of the door. The tower¡¯s still there, just a few inches further away than before. It feels like someone¡¯s messing with me; why the hell is the tower moving, what do the tentacles have to do with anything, and why hasn¡¯t anything shown up? We¡¯re supposed to be defending this place. But there¡¯s nothing to defend it from.

    Screw this. Maybe Clutter¡¯s had better luck ¡°Clutter! Find anything at all?!¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± His voice closes in from all directions. ¡°Nothing at all! Do you want me to come back?!¡±

    ¡°Yeah! You need to see this!¡± I stick my foot into the door to keep it from closing and lock my eyes on the tower. If that thing gets up and starts running, I¡¯m going to scream. ¡°How far are you¨C¡±

    His shimmering form creeps into my awareness, and I cut myself off. He tilts his head to the side in question, but doesn¡¯t ask anything as he sprints up to the door I¡¯m holding open. Silky strands trail behind his hands as he gestures at the door.

    ¡°What¡¯s down there?¡±

    I nod down at it. ¡°Take a look for yourself. Seems like the tower¡¯s trying to take¡­ root. Ah.¡±

    Clutter frowns as I shake my head with a sigh. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Anchor. Root. Same thing. Just take a look and you¡¯ll see what I mean.¡±

    ¡°Um, okay.¡± He gets to his knees, grabs the edge of the door, and swings his head down into it. ¡°Oh! I get it!¡±

    ¡°Yup. We¡¯re actually anchoring the tower to the wall. Which would explain why it was further along the wall than you thought it was; it was moving before we even noticed it was.¡±

    His eyes shoot open wide. ¡°The tower¡¯s moving?!¡±

    ¡°...Right, yeah, forgot that important piece of information.¡± I chuckle to myself. ¡°It¡¯s done with the grey magic, and now it¡¯s slowly pulling out the blue stuff from the catalyst. No idea how much longer it¡¯s going to be, but if we look at how much comes out per minute, we could probably calculate it.¡±

    ¡°Or we could just wait.¡± Clutter suggests. ¡°It¡¯s not like we¡¯re struggling for time. Heck, I couldn¡¯t find a single shred of evidence that there¡¯s anyone alive here but us. Whatever the system thinks is coming to attack us, it can¡¯t be that dangerous.¡±

    I feel inclined to agree. With a scan of the horizon yet again, I take my foot out of the door and wait for Clutter to come up. He does so with a shake of his head and his lips pulled into a thoughtful line. After a few moments of silence, he turns to me and motions at the tower.

    ¡°Do you think we were supposed to fight other people for this?¡±

 Chapter 182: Delayed Reaction

    That¡­ huh. That¡¯s a very good point. If we got sent to somewhere other people were, there¡¯s a good chance that there wouldn¡¯t be enough anchors to go around. Or enough people who¡¯d be willing to ally up so there could be.

    ¡°I could see the system using this as a kind of¡­ tone-setter for the rest of the quest. If everyone¡¯s willing to work together, things go pretty smoothly. But if even one person wants all the rewards for themselves, then it becomes a hell of a lot more hectic.¡±

    Clutter nods. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I was thinking. The quest didn¡¯t ask us to fight each other, and I got the same popup as you did to protect the anchor, so it at least recognizes that we¡¯re working together. Wait¨Clet me undo this.¡±

    He shakes his head, and the veil of invisibility bleeds away. I give him a nod of thanks for no longer subjecting me to the strange voice modification, and we just stand there watching the tower. He pulls out his Class Card to check something, but shakes his head with a huff and sends it right back. We stand like this for a few more minutes, casually chatting about barely anything, as impatience seeps into my bones.

    ¡°I swear, these quests need timers.¡± I sigh and stuff my hands in my pockets. ¡°Clutter, can you see what time it is on your Class Card?¡±

    ¡°Usually, yes. But not right now¨Cthat¡¯s all greyed out too. I¡¯m relying on my pretty accurate internal clock right now.¡± He pauses, then crosses his arms. ¡°Hm. Why would the system block that out? Is seeing the time really that important?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Everything but the class essentials are blocked. Doesn¡¯t surprise me.¡±

    ¡°I guess, but¡­¡± Clutter frowns as he trails off. ¡°Something just feels weird about it to me. But I guess you¡¯re probably right.¡±

    ¡°Could be, but we don¡¯t know anything yet. Maybe there¡¯s an actual reason every single one of our system functions have been greyed out except for my map. That reason could be as simple as rewarding the person who took an extra few steps to integrate the clues they found, though.¡±

    Clutter grumbles agreement, but he doesn¡¯t seem convinced. Neither am I, honestly, but it doesn¡¯t feel like that part is important yet. When we actually get into the meat of the quest, then sure, but not now.

    Without warning, an itch worms its way into my awareness. At the edge of it I feel something moving towards us, but not fast at all. I grab Clutter by the shoulder and point with my other hand in the direction of the motion. His worry disappears, wiped away by excitement, and he disappears as he starts running in that direction.

    ¡°Check out the surface. I¡¯ll check in the wall again.¡±

    ¡°Got it!¡±

    I bend down and press my palm to the floor, then swing my head down into the wall. My awareness doesn¡¯t feel much of anything, but the ground below looks decidedly different than before. Veins of blue magic cut through the stony material, branching out from where the silky blue tentacles have buried themselves in the stone, leaving the grey ones to loll and sway in a field of staticky magic.

    ¡°Finally.¡± I mutter to myself and scan the hall for threats. My awareness only feels them up above, so I pull myself to my feet and step closer to the tower.

    These blocky things approach from all directions. To my awareness they seem like gumball machines¨Cblocky bodies on top of which rests a large, spherical dome. Said dome crackles with magic, each slightly different from the next, and they all have strange thin limbs just barely keeping them from toppling over. Like bent coat hangers trying to hold up expensive speakers.

    ¡°Ooh, they¡¯re weird! Cool!¡± Clutter calls, his voice everywhere once again. ¡°Can you see them yet? Do I need to describe them?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°My awareness can see them just fine. And in a few seconds¡­ yeah, my eyes can see them too.¡±

    My initial impressions were almost spot-on. Each of these strange things is built around a four foot long rectangle of the exact same material as the wall, and the things I thought were gangly limbs are actually two pieces of silvery grey wire wrapped around said rectangle that dig in so deeply and perfectly that they¡¯re exactly flush with the surface. The wire-doll like arms and legs twitch and shift seemingly at random, and they don¡¯t seem to take any of the block¡¯s weight when they take a ¡®step¡¯--which brings into question why they¡¯re there at all.

    But the most stunning difference is the colour. Cobalt blue, fire engine red, lemon yellow, and leafy green. Of the eighteen or so things I can see shambling down the wall at us, those are the only colours of magic sloshing about in their translucent grey heads like half-filled fish bowls. I recognize the blue from the catalyst Clutter found, but the other three are brand new colours for this bland city.

    I palm a projectile and glance over my shoulder. ¡°Blue, red, yellow, and green here! You see any other colours?¡±

    ¡°Just those four here, too! Mostly red, though. How about you?¡±

    Good question. I scan the group, actually counting them this time, then summon another projectile just in case. ¡°Twenty here¨Ctwo green, ten red, four blue, and four yellow.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°One, two, three¡­¡± Clutter trails off as he quietly counts to himself. ¡°Twenty here, too, and they¡¯ve got the exact same numbers. That can¡¯t be a coincidence, right?¡±

    ¡°Definitely not. Don¡¯t engage with them just yet¨CI¡¯m going to throw some projectiles and see how they react.¡±

    Clutter nods at the edge of my awareness. ¡°I¡¯ll just take a close look for now.¡±

    Good, means I don¡¯t have to worry about hurting him. I slip one of the projectiles on top of my thumbnail, take aim at one of the green ones, and let a tiny concentrated blast of destruction fly. It zips through the air with a horrible shriek, salt and magic swirling in on themselves until they collide with the rectangle¡¯s head. It shatters like breakaway glass, disintegrating into pieces from the smallest touch.

    The wire limbs collapse instantly, as if the rectangle only now demands to be held up. The magical green liquid, on the other hand, takes the opposite approach. It hovers in the shape of the sphere it used to fill for a split second, then condenses into an orb with an audible ¡®slurp¡¯. I stare at the thing that burns like a campfire in my awareness, and then it detonates with the force of a firework.

    Liquid green magic splatters everywhere. Droplets of the stuff hit me before I can put up a shield, which is damn impressive, and I feel something surge into my body. My heart beats faster, my vision narrows, and a spike of anxiety drives itself into my heart. I grimace and crush a purification coin at my feet, and the sensation instantly disappears.

    I guess that explains why they hid our buffs from us. ¡°Clutter! Don¡¯t break them without putting up a shield first!¡±

    ¡°I saw!¡± He responds eagerly. ¡°Look what it¡¯s doing to the others!¡±

    The¡­ others? I blink and shake the awful adrenaline-rush like sensation from my mind and actually focus on the constructs. At least one drop of green liquid splattered on each of them, and now they¡¯re shaking as magic surges through their rectangle bodies. The start of a theory nips at my mind, but until I see how each of them reacts to being destroyed, I can¡¯t assume anything.

    Though the one thing I can say is that the magic detonations are unbelievably fast. My awareness couldn¡¯t even react in time to protect me. So this time I throw up a shield beforehand and ready a second projectile aimed at one of the red ones.

    A wracking twitch through a few of the constructs stays my hand. Their shambling, strange motions grow in intensity, twisting and turning until they speed up noticeably. I watch with fascination as a single blue-headed one nearly breaks out into a sprint, its unnatural movements somehow perfectly supported, then turn back to the red one.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see how you detonate.¡±

    I flick the coin, and the spell runs through the red-head. Its head shatters in a vibrant spray of grey magic, but its body doesn¡¯t crumple like the green one did. This one takes a few more shambling steps before it collapses, and as it falls to the ground, the liquid in its head congeals into a goopy mass that continues to roll forward for a few steps.

    Sparks fly off the glob. Magic screams in my awareness, and the orb detonates. A thick coating of red splatters my shield, the ground all around it, and the tower itself. Magic sticks to everything like boiling molasses. Everything except the constructs¨Cthe red just drips off them without showing any signs of doing much of anything at all.

    Constant damage warnings blare at my mind, and all of them come from my shield. I wince at the sheer number of them and send the barrier away, then throw up a larger one to keep the encroaching mass of constructs away.

    ¡°Red ones detonate into magic that hurts anything but their allies. Green ones debuff us and buff their allies.¡± I note to myself as I ready two more coins and take a step back. ¡°As long as they¡¯re actually consistent, I can deal with this.¡±

    Two coins fly out. The first takes a blue, which erupts into a cascade of freezing magic that lingers in the air and coats the constructs in a sheen of bluish-white. Moments later the second hits, and a yellow shatters and blorps over itself like someone dropped a water balloon filled with paint on it. The thing twitches twice, then breaks into a sprint directly at me, leaving a trail of glistening yellow dots behind it in a desperate last stand.

    I throw up another shield, then lean back and watch as it crashes repeatedly into my barrier. Tiny cracks start to form, but what actually seems dangerous is the whirl of razor-sharp wire that it whips around with enough force to crack against thin air. It takes a count of thirty for the yellow to drain away, and when the last drop falls to the ground, the thing simply stops moving.

    ¡°Blues are defensive and deny an area for a while, and the yellows go berzerk when you destroy their heads. Interesting.¡± I say as I dismiss my shield and brush my fingers against the pillar that used to be a yellow. ¡°And now that they¡¯re destroyed, there¡¯s no visible difference between any of them. Pearl would either love or absolutely hate to see this.¡±

    A quiet pop sounds off in Clutter¡¯s direction. I toss a handful of projectiles at the remaining constructs, then double-layer a shield to protect the tower from the fallout, and turn to face the noise. Clutter jogs into my awareness a second later, and he¡¯s holding something in his hands. From the shape of it, that¡¯s definitely one of the heads.

    ¡°Look what I have!¡± He says excitedly. ¡°I snuck up on one of them, which wasn¡¯t hard, and disrupted the connection rune between the helmet and the body! We don¡¯t even have to destroy them to defeat them!¡±

    Cacophonous, colourful explosions ring out from over my shoulder. Clutter stares past me wide-eyed in awe, and slowly lowers the head he managed to remove as my shields are absolutely splattered in green, red, and a few stray inches of blue. The three remaining yellows charge and beat on my shield with dying desperation, but soon enough, they too die out.

    Still, not having to risk it seems like the infinitely better choice. I put a hand on invisible Clutter¡¯s shoulder and offer him a smile.

    ¡°Nice discovery. How long do you think it¡¯ll take to deal with the rest of them?¡±

    He gulps. ¡°Um¡­ another ten minutes. Each one takes about thirty seconds to dismantle.¡±

    I nod. ¡°Works for me. Do you need any shields, or will they even get close enough for that?¡±

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll be¡­ fine¡­¡± He trails off as he looks over his shoulder. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll go¡­ do that, then.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Meet you back here in ten minutes. Oh, and leave that head with me.¡± I gesture at the grey dome carefully nestled in Clutter¡¯s hands. ¡°I might be able to learn something from studying it. And if I can¡¯t, then Pearl probably will have something to say.

 Chapter 183: Alive, Dead, Constructed

    Clutter glances down at the sphere in his hands as if remembering that it exists in the first place. He slowly turns it around a few times, then places it gingerly in my hands. The moment he stops touching it his spell fades, and a brilliant green-filled sphere appears before me. Seems like he had the same idea to target the one there was the fewest of.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be¡­ right back.¡± He trails his gaze over the destruction behind me, then runs off. I watch him go until he reaches the edge of my awareness, then turn back to the mass of destroyed constructs.

    Now that¨Cthat felt like a tutorial fight. One to get us acquainted with the constructs, puts their weak points on display, and gives us enough time to fight them before they can get too close. I bet next time I see these things something significant will have changed¨Ceither how they approach, their bodies in general, or even the amount of magic in their heads. Because at a third full, there¡¯s still two-thirds of empty space left to go.

    ¡®Course, that¡¯s assuming this wave is the only one that¡¯s going to show up for now. I could easily be proven wrong any second, but if this is actually just a way to get us accustomed to how things work in this quest, then I¡¯ve got a feeling Clutter¡¯s on cleanup duty. Definitely would¡¯ve been much worse if we had a single other person here who isn¡¯t allied with us, too, so if the same quest gets given to everyone, it can¡¯t be too dangerous.

    I nod to myself, fairly confident in my appraisal of the situation, and hold the head-sphere at arm¡¯s length. Time to see what I can glean from this thing; Clutter mentioned a rune connecting the body to the head. I spin the head around a few times to check for any sign of magic, but the only stuff I can sense is the green adrenaline-inducing stuff inside.

    ¡°So whatever lets the head connect to the body is either only on the body, or worked into the magic liquid itself.¡± I lean against the tower and take out my Class Card¨Cwhose note-taking function is luckily still there. ¡°To greatly oversimplify things; red explodes, blue defends, green buffs, and yellow fights. None of their bodies were any different from each other, and I¡¯ll have to ask Clutter if the runes on each one corresponds to the colour in their head, or if those are all the same, too.¡±

    As I type down my findings, another thought pops into my mind. Since destroying the heads makes the body die off, there¡¯s a chance reconnecting an undamaged head would restart the body. I turn and look at the previously yellow-headed construct that¡¯s just a few feet away from me. There¡¯s no harm in testing out a theory, right?

    Nah, definitely not. I walk right over to the thing, throw down a purification to clear away all the red and blue that still coat the stone, and lean down to inspect the rune on its ¡®neck¡¯. A simple circle with a dot in the center stares back up at me, and without a head connected to it, I can¡¯t feel a drop of magic from the thing. I run my fingers over the slight indent, feeling the stone that¡¯s as smooth as a pebble at the bottom of a river, then my finger catches in the center dot.

    And pulls it through the stone towards the outer edge. I stare at the rune in confusion for a few seconds, then pull the dot around the circle like it¡¯s some kind of inlaid disk. But it isn¡¯t. The thing is one solid piece, and I¡¯m moving around a dot something carved into the material. Without it giving off any magical signs in the slightest.

    ¡°Now what does this do?¡± I murmur as I continue to mess with the rune. ¡°Will you be more aggressive if I bring the dot closer to the edge? Or will you even connect to the head if you¡¯re not in the perfect position? If only I had a way to find out.¡±

    I lick my lips and position the head right over the rune. Crackling bolts of electricity-like magic zap between the bottom of the head and the rune, and I slowly rotate the grey sphere to see how they react. Absolutely nothing changes no matter how I spin it¨Cthe grey magic takes the shortest path between the sphere and the outer ring of the rune. But¡­ huh. It only touches the carved outer ring. Not the uncarved material inside of it or the dot that I was just messing with.

    Carefully, I move the head closer and closer to the body. The limbs lie limply there without so much as a twitch, even as the arcs of magic between the head and the rune shrink to barely two inches. Before I close those last few inches, I palm a shield coin, then place the head against the rune.

    The body twitches ever so slightly. I take a step back and ready my coin as I try to keep an eye on the dot in the center, but it disappears under the sloshing green magic. As the limbs work themselves into motion, I frown and cross my arms; it looks like any head works with any body. And it also looks like moving that dot did absolutely nothing.

    I throw up the shield before the body can fully get to its feet, enclosing it in a fairly large box so I can observe it further. Like a puppet being pulled upwards on its strings, the construct stands bolt upright and turns directly at me. It takes a few steps forward, smacks against my barrier, and doesn¡¯t stop.

    ¡°So not intelligent. Probably only programmed to walk straight at what it deems a threat.¡± I summon another shield and press it against the box. ¡°How¡¯ll you react to this?¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    My second coin flickers, and a wedge of a shield appears right next to the head and the body. It shoves forward an instant later, pushing the head further and further away from the body, but no matter how far it goes the magic arcs won¡¯t disconnect. And now that I¡¯ve got a better look at the rune while it¡¯s operating, I can see that the dot is perfectly in the middle again. But it¡¯s moving slightly to the side so it¡¯s positioned under the head.

    ¡°It is a pivot point. But¡­ why? Wouldn''t having it on a flat surface serve exactly the same purpose?¡± I muse as I summon a projectile to finish the job. ¡°No, that¡¯s like questioning why circuitry looks the way it does without knowing anything about it. There has to be some runic, magical reason for the dot.¡±

    I dismiss my shields and flick the projectile at the construct¡¯s head, then walk away to put the tower between me and it. Once my awareness confirms I¡¯m out of line of sight, I detonate the projectile. And the construct¡¯s green head detonates at the exact same time. I open up my Class Card and add my findings to the notes I already made, then frown down at them as I realize I¡¯ve forgotten the obvious.

    Identify still works here, since Clutter used it on the catalyst. Even if my information tab is greyed out, the initial information identify gives shouldn¡¯t be greyed out. Which makes my thorough destruction of the constructs more than a little hasty.

    I shake my head and groan in annoyance at myself. Then I push off the tower with the sole of my shoe and walk until I can see the constructs Clutter¡¯s dealing with. ¡°Clutter! Did you bother identifying these things?¡±

    An invisible paindne pauses with a construct in a headlock. He looks down at it, then at the four constructs he hasn¡¯t decapitated. ¡°Um¡­ no. But I saved one of each colour. Want to split the cost?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll check two first and see if they have the same description. Which one do you want?¡±

    He raises his chin, then taps the head of the one he¡¯s got immobilized. ¡°This blue one.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll take the green.¡± I focus on the green one and point a finger at it. ¡°Identify.¡±

    Identification Cost: 100 Worth.

    Continue: Y or N?

    Ah, that explains the hundred Worth the quest so generously gave out before. I guess if someone came in here with next to no Worth to their name, they¡¯d be hard locked out of identifying these things. Which¡­ is probably easy to live with, honestly. Anyway, I press Y.

    100 Worth consumed.

    Target Identified as: Liquid Magic Transportation Construct(Modified).

    A construct designed to transport liquid magic. Cannot normally function without a command from a registered user, though this model has been modified to do so.

    I carefully read it over twice, and no mention of a colour of magic randomly appears the second time through. From how Clutter frowns at his own Class Card, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s reading the exact same thing I am.

    ¡°No mention of the colours of magic in yours?¡± I ask, just to be sure.

    He shakes his head. ¡°Nope. Just that they¡¯re supposed to be commanded, and now they don¡¯t have to be. But doesn¡¯t this feel like too little information?¡±

    I shrug and swipe to my notes, copy down what identify told me, then send my Class Card away. ¡°I don¡¯t expect a history lesson when I identify something.¡±

    ¡°Well, yes, but¡­ hrm.¡± Clutter clutches his arm, and the construct¡¯s head pops clean off. He gracefully catches it before it can hit the ground, then sends it to his inventory. ¡°I don¡¯t know why it bugs me. Usually it¡¯d at least say what the construct is made of, or what its proper name is. This feels like we¡¯re getting the absolute least information we need to make an okay decision.¡±

    ¡°I mean, we can kind of assume that whatever the system isn¡¯t telling us is a secret for a reason. Like, it didn¡¯t tell us about the runes, or that they can carry different kinds of magic. Think of it like this; If we weren¡¯t stupid, what¡¯s the first thing you¡¯d do if you saw these things walking at us.¡±

    Clutter raises an eyebrow, then laughs and shakes his head. ¡°I guess I¡¯d identify them. And it was easy enough to test the things the system didn¡¯t tell us¡­ ah, whatever. Maybe this is another way the system evens the playing field for all the different clearances.¡±

    ¡°Or it could just not want to tell us everything up-front. You know, because of spoilers.¡± I grin and motion at the three remaining constructs. ¡°Nice work on the others, by the way. Clean kills all around?¡±

    He frowns and walks up to the closest construct, locks it in a headlock, and jams his fingers into the small space he made between its body and head. Magic shimmers down his wraps, and the crackling connective magic starts to visibly weaken. After about ten seconds of concentration, he pops off the head and sends it to his inventory.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure this is considered killing them.¡± He says reluctantly as he kicks away the body. ¡°They¡¯re just magic powering a construct. I bet you could completely ¡®heal¡¯ one of these just by reattaching the head. Ooh, we should try that next!¡±

    ¡°Already tried it. Worked like a charm.¡±

    Clutter slightly deflates. ¡°Oh. Okay. Give me thirty seconds and I¡¯ll be done here; go ahead and teleport back to the top.¡±

    I nod and tug on the connection to my relocation coin. ¡°See you there in a minute.¡±

    As he nods back, I trigger the spell. Everything shifts ever so slightly, and I take a quick look around the tower for anything new. The scent is gone, so that¡¯s a plus, and the tower of circles is almost flush with the floor. Not quite sure if that was time-based or enemies-defeated based, but either way, it looks like it¡¯s going to finish¡­ right about¡­ now.

 Chapter 184: Locked In

    With a hiss and a spray of grey mist, the circles sink completely into the floor. What¡¯s left of the smell disappears as the magic spreads, and I look out over the dead constructs to see what¡¯s happened to them. None of the bodies disappear, and neither do the magical remnants they left behind. Moments later the sound of Clutter¡¯s feet on the stairs reaches my ears, and soon enough, he jogs into view with his hands still wrapped but his invisibility dispelled.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s done?¡± He notes as he walks up to the window. ¡°I thought we¡¯d get a notification the second it happened.¡±

    ¡°So did I.¡± I agree and pull out my Class Card. ¡°Nothing new yet. Maybe there¡¯s a second stage to this?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°I didn¡¯t even think there were going to be enemies. Want to check inside the wall before we hole up?¡±

    I nod. ¡°Probably the right idea.¡±

    As I turn to walk down the stairs, Clutter walls away from them and stands at the window I was just at. He stares out over the wall with a pensive expression, his wraps billowing out behind him giving the scene a strange sense of melancholy. Then the frown fades, his tail starts to wag, and he pulls one of the construct heads out of his inventory to start messing with.

    Whatever was there, it isn¡¯t any more. But I¡¯m not confident it¡¯s going to stay gone. That¡¯s a talk for when the quest gives us a blatant safe zone, though, so I wave at his reflection in the glass and start down the stairs. He waves back energetically, and as my awareness lowers with me, I catch the start of some experimentation with the yellow-magic-filled sphere.

    ¡°Mrrh¡­ Shelby?¡± Pearl yawns, stretches, and smacks her lips. ¡°How long was I asleep?¡±

    ¡°About two hours? Maybe a little more or a little less¨Cwe don¡¯t have an accurate clock in here. You missed some interesting things and a whole lot of walking and talking.¡± I say as I lean down and open a door on the floor. Before I even step down, a cable of blue magic catches my eye. ¡°Well, looks like that worked pretty damn well. Eh, might as well go down and see if it produced anything else.¡±

    Pearl oohs and aahs as I slip into the wall, turning her head in all directions to take in how the tower has anchored itself to the wall. All of the grey tentacles sway lazily underneath the tower, gently brushing the walls and floor every now and again with a crack and sizzle of magic, but the real star of the show is the blue.

    Massive cables of the stuff embedded themselves in the ground, ceiling, and the walls. They start off as thick as tree trunks right underneath the tower, then branch out into smaller and smaller tentacles that stick to and shoot through the hall like elaborately carved patterns. Most of them completely ignore the rectangular protrusions for some reason, but the thinnest tentacles gently lie over them like overgrown ivy.

    ¡°It¡¯s strangely beautiful.¡± Pearl notes in disbelief. ¡°All the roots, all the magic¡­ if I didn¡¯t know the system was doing this, I¡¯d almost think this was the work of old-style artisans. How¡¯d you get it to happen?¡±

    I carefully drop to the ground, making sure that I don¡¯t roll an ankle or zap myself on a hanging tentacle, and slowly walk towards the thickest blue roots. There are six of them in total¨Cfour for the floor, ceiling, and walls, and two that seem to go deeper below.

    ¡°We just put the catalyst Clutter found into the tower. Then time did its thing.¡± I shrug as I brush away a strand of sticky blue magic. ¡°Did you see the constructs? I¡¯m pretty sure they use similar tech to the liquid magic you were so pissed the forgeries were misusing.¡±

    Pearl perks up at the mention of liquid magic. ¡°Really? That¡¯s a great sign! Or¡­  a really horrible one. Can it be both at once?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s a really great, horrible sign.¡± She says confidently. ¡°If I can take some samples, I might be able to reproduce it for you. But that also means the system can reproduce this stuff, so it¡¯s definitely not the one that made the really crappy constructs down in those tunnels. Or it did make them with the sole purpose of not letting me get the designs we needed to recreate it ourselves.¡±

    I whistle as I brush through the grey and blue tendrils. ¡°Sounds like a good and horrible thing.¡±

    ¡°I know, right?¡± Pearl sighs and crosses her arms. ¡°All it means is that more possibilities just¡­ opened up¡­ um¡­ Shelby, what the heck are you doing?¡±

    A blue tentacle slides over my cheek, and a grey one looses a magical discharge at the ground not five inches from my feet. I tilt my head to the side in confusion at Pearl¡¯s confusion.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Walking into the tentacles, obviously.¡±

    Pearl¡¯s eyes widen. ¡°I can see that. But¡­ why?¡±

    ¡°Why? Why, she asks.¡± I chuckle and shake my head. ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? I¡¯m doing this because¡­ because¡­ uh¡­¡±

    I snap my mouth shut and glance over my shoulder. The tentacles have completely closed me in, and now I¡¯m just walking through the space made by the six huge blue ones. With absolutely no recollection of ever thinking¨Cor wanting¨Cto do exactly what I¡¯m in the process of doing.

    Magic pours down my back, and I shudder as it slides off my clothes. ¡°Pearl, why the hell am I standing here?¡±

    She furrows her brow and glares at me. ¡°You¡¯re not making fun of me?¡±

    I shake my head.

    ¡°Oh, then that¡¯s not good. Is it subtle mind control? Bioluminescent prey wrangling, maybe?¡± She looks around seriously, all doubt completely evaporated by my assurance. ¡°Or¡­ what if your skill¡¯s still working right now? Do you know if your Class Card thinks you¡¯re in the quest proper right now, or are you still in the preliminary steps of it?¡±

    I pull open my Class Card as I make a mental effort to stay in place. My feet don¡¯t move against my will, but I can feel my body itching to move the second I let my guard down. I read through the quest description a few times, but no matter how many times I read through it, I can¡¯t tell if the quest is technically ¡®found¡¯ yet. We¡¯re still sort of purposeless at the moment, but the quest did tell us the ultimate objective for this thing.

    ¡°I¡¯m ninety percent sure the quest has started.¡± I say with¡­ well¡­ ninety percent confidence. ¡°So I¡¯m more inclined to believe your suggestion. But I¡¯ve got a coin up top still, so what¡¯s the harm in checking it out?¡±

    ¡°Physical harm. That¡¯s the harm.¡± Pearl giggles, but doesn''t try to stop me. ¡°I can¡¯t feel anything malicious yet. And I have to admit I¡¯m pretty curious.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s check it out.¡±

    I send away my Class Card and summon a few shield coins just in case, then venture deeper into the mass of magical roots. All of the stuff brushes against my skin like refrigerated syrup, slightly sticky but still very much a liquid, yet it doesn¡¯t leave a residue. It just rolls off and splatter to the ground, which absorbs it like dry soil devouring a stray drop of water. I raise a hand to brush aside a curtain of the silkier blue magic, then slowly walk into a naturally formed alcove where the six roots have met.

    Pulsing blue roots surround me on almost all sides. A soft hum is constantly undercut by the snapping of the grey tentacles outside, but I can feel the hum just as much as I can hear it. Something tells me that there¡¯s something important right in this closet-sized alcove with me. Not my awareness, though¨Cthat just mumbles at all the magic.

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s another phase-thing?¡± Pearl wonders as she takes a look around. ¡°Because I¡¯m not seeing or¡­ aware-ing anything right now.¡±

    ¡°Seems like it.¡± I turn to face the entrance and slowly back up until my head bumps the wall. ¡°The entrance was completely covered, so I¡¯m going to assume the way to see whatever¡¯s in here is actually in here with it. Keep an eye out for¨C¡±

    Pearl points at a point almost on the ceiling. ¡°Symbols?¡±

    I follow her finger to what obviously looks like an eye painted on in sticky, blue magic. ¡°I was going to say clues, but that¡¯s way better. So now I guess I just walk around this little place while staring at the¨C¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s another on the floor.¡± Pearl motions at another spot on the ground¨Cthis one an obvious ¡®X¡¯. ¡°They¡¯re really making this one idiot-proof, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ thats¡­ I had to do a much harder puzzle just to get into the quest in the first place.¡± I grumble as I back onto the ¡®x¡¯. ¡°What¡¯s the point of dialing back the difficulty so much when we¡¯ve already proven we know how to do this?¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°I have no idea. But it makes your life easier, right?¡±

    ¡°Sure¡­ I guess.¡± I mutter and stare up at the eye. A glistening blue sphere pops into existence halfway between me and the symbol. ¡°Okay, and now it¡¯s set to be perfectly at my eye level. The damn thing lured me in here, gave us the easiest ¡®puzzle¡¯ in existence, and dispenses a suspicious orb. I¡¯m going to be pissed if this isn¡¯t a trap.¡±

    I lean in, shield coins primed in the corner of my mind, and brush my fingers against the orb. A shiver cloaked in blue works its way from my fingertips all the way to my toes. Just as the sensation starts to build, it disappears. And in its place is some brand new text.

    Defence successful.

    Tower anchored to the city.

    Participants: Shelby, Clutter.

    If unchanged in 60 seconds, both participants will continue the quest.

    ¡°That sounds like it wants you to attack Clutter.¡± Pearl notes. ¡°Weird. Has the quest said anything about losing rewards if there are more of you?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Nothing but the assumptions of how splitting loot normally works.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ just wait out the timer?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan.¡±

    Sixty seconds tick by relatively quickly. No outside forces try to push me to attack Clutter, no constructs appear to attack me, and the root-closet doesn¡¯t change at all. I count down the last few seconds in my head as I stare at the screen produced by the orb, and right on time, it changes. At the exact same time as a notification from my Class Card.

    Participants: Shelby, Clutter anchored to the city.

    Once (4) total towers have been anchored, the quest will progress.

    Until then, your time is your own.

    Use it wisely, as the anchor is more than it initially seems.

 Chapter 185: Green Out

    Four towers. I¡¯m assuming that means four over the entire city, and not four that we have to anchor¨Cor else that wording is very misleading. It also insinuates that there haven¡¯t been four towers anchored yet, so we¡¯re one of the first three to get it done. Wonder if that has anything to do with where we spawned in the city, or if we got an easier objective because we¡¯re lower clearance.

    I scratch my face as the orb¡¯s projection flickers off, leaving me standing there with less light than before. The cryptic half-warning about using our time wisely hangs in the air like dangling cobwebs; I have no doubt the anchor¡¯s more than just something to connect the tower to the wall. But the way the message was worded¡­ it makes it seem like there¡¯s something we can do about it before four towers get connected.

    ¡°Pearl, can you feel anything important?¡± I ask as I wrap my fingers around the sphere and try to pull it. The thing doesn¡¯t budge. ¡°Hrm. Guess we¡¯re not taking this with us.¡±

    She breathes out a quiet laugh and shoves herself out of her shell to sit on my shoulder. ¡°I can feel a lot of important things. The magic, here, how it¡¯s infusing the walls with something, how it isn¡¯t running out of magic somehow¨Cbut that¡¯s not what you¡¯re talking about. Yes, the sphere is strange. It feels like a control panel¨Calmost like one of ours¨Cbut it¡¯s not connected to anything.¡±

    I tilt my head to the side and tap the orb. ¡°The quest gave updates through it.¡±

    ¡°It gave updates through it because it isn¡¯t connected to anything; that¡¯s how the quest could speak through it.¡± Pearl clarifies. She slides down my arm and spins, then gracefully sits on the sphere. ¡°There¡¯s some kind of broadcasting signal here, and it isn¡¯t created by the quest. The quest just hijacked the signal to deliver the news.¡±

    ¡°So there¡¯s a chance this will eventually connect to something?¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°I¡¯d call it more of an eventuality than a chance, but yes. Now whether it¡¯s more quest stuff or just something for the city, that I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Hrm. Then I¡¯ll have to keep this spot marked.¡± I open up my map tab, ready to mark it with a stone spear, but a stain of detail worked through the grey stops me. ¡°Anchoring the tower updated my map.¡±

    ¡°Really? Turn it around; let me see.¡± Pearl leans forward as I turn the map to her. She strokes her chin thoughtfully while she observes the change. ¡°Did your map save the changes you made as you ran here from where you spawned, or did it only display your current location?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it constantly updated.¡±

    ¡°Well, I guess that means the tower revealed a whole lot of the map. See?¡± She zooms out a little more, then turns the map back to me and traces the perimeter of the circle with her finger. ¡°There¡¯s not a little line trailing out to where you started.¡±

    I narrow my eyes to double-check, and I¡¯ll be damned¨Cshe¡¯s right. There¡¯s not a single sign of the trek Clutter and I made to get here from where we spawned. And from this birds-eye view of the city, there¡¯s not really any distinction between the walls at all¨Cthey¡¯re of perfectly equal width, and only the tower stands out as an anomaly. I can¡¯t even make out the ¡®streets¡¯ we spawned on.

    Which raises the question¡­ were they streets at all, or were we just standing on top of another wall? I guess it¡¯s fairly easy to answer, and I¡¯ll definitely check that out sooner or later, but right now we need to focus on the tower. Just from anchoring it, we got a lot of map data. Who knows what else we can learn from it?

    ¡°C¡¯mon, Pearl.¡± I send my Class Card away and motion for her to climb my arm. ¡°Clutter¡¯s waiting with a bunch of construct parts we can experiment with. Maybe you¡¯ll give him some of the inspiration he¡¯s looking for.¡±

    She nods, and her squishy little feet patter up my arm like raindrops until she reaches my shoulder. ¡°We should definitely come back here later.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Later.¡±

    I turn to leave the alcove, the soft shimmering of the sphere tickling at my awareness until I get far enough away for it to disappear. A short trek through all the tentacles, a shield-aided ascent to the ceiling, and a quick jog up the stairs take me right back to Clutter. Who sits in a puddle of yellow magic in the middle of a room stained green with slightly different magic.

    His eyes twitch to me the second my head¡¯s visible. Silently, he mouths the words ¡®help me¡¯ as the rest of his body twitches uncontrollably with the adrenaline surge from the magic. I raise an eyebrow and toss a purification at his feet.

    As the magic spreads through his body, I take a few steps towards him. ¡°Hit one of the spheres a little too hard?¡±

    With a titanic sigh of relief, Clutter collapses to the ground. ¡°Promise you won¡¯t laugh at me?¡±

    ¡°Depends. Did you try to put on one of the heads?¡±

    ¡°What? No. I¡¯m not that stupid.¡± He laughs, then winces. ¡°Laughing hurts. Don¡¯t be funny.¡±

    I roll my eyes. ¡°No promises on that one. So what happened?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ pretty simple, actually. I was working with the yellow one, carefully breaking the sphere to get at the magic inside, and it just¡­ worked. I made a small circle, tried to identify the liquid, then set it at my feet and pulled out a green one to do the exact same thing.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Aw, Clutter. Did you not¡­ I mean¡­ there¡¯s evidence of it right out there.¡± I motion at the window with a wince of sympathy. ¡°All of them explode except for the yellow ones.¡±

    He looks away in embarrassment. ¡°Now I know that. The green one¡­ exploded, and as you can see, I got completely coated. If you want to know what it does, I can tell you that it practically gives you muscle spasms on all of your muscles and makes your brain think too hard. But it obviously doesn¡¯t kill you¨Cat least not quickly enough that you couldn¡¯t save me.¡±

    ¡°Obviously.¡± I sigh and look around the room. ¡°Did you see the message from the quest before you got slimed?¡±

    The look on his face tells me he didn¡¯t before his mouth can even open. ¡°There¡¯s a message?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It says we anchored the tower, and some cryptic warnings about how the tower¡¯s more than it seems. Oh, and there¡¯s nearly a jungle of tentacle-roots down in the hall now.¡± I pull out a shield and frown at the stained room. ¡°How the hell are we supposed to clean this up? I can¡¯t even access a change of clothes to use as rags.¡±

    ¡°Just wait it out.¡± Pearl says helpfully. ¡°The magic will dissipate sooner or later, and then you¡¯ll just have some slightly inconvenient inert slurry on the ground. Or you can purify this whole place to hurry the process along¨Cyour choice.¡±

    I snort and gesture at the ceiling. Which is also green. ¡°Clutter, you owe me five Worth.¡±

    ¡°Gladly.¡± He wheezes. ¡°You¡­ um¡­ no, neither of us have health potions. Or rest potions. Dang it. I think I strained my everything.¡±

    One coin covers about a quarter of the room. I use five purification coins just in case, in addition to the one that brought Clutter out of his induced spasms, which brings the total to six. Not much in the greater scheme of things, but it does show me just how inefficient purification is at clearing even this small-ish room.

    ¡°Okay, that should be it.¡± I dust off my hands on my clothes, then lean down and offer to help Clutter stand. He doesn¡¯t accept, but he does groan in discomfort. ¡°Looks worse than I thought. Want me to take you down into the walls?¡±

    He winces, then shakes his head. ¡°I want to be here when you discover something. And¡­ um¡­ nice to actually meet you, Pearl. We never really introduced ourselves.¡±

    Pearl taps her chin in thought. ¡°You¡¯re right¨Cwe didn¡¯t. Hi, Clutter.¡±

    ¡°Hi, Pearl. So¡­ you¡¯re a shellraiser?¡±

    She nods. ¡°Probably not what you were expecting, huh?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°I don¡¯t really know what I was expecting, but a squishy little friend definitely wasn¡¯t it. Do you want to eat my brain?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ no?¡± Pearl glances over at me with a frown. ¡°Do people think shellraisers eat brains?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°I¡¯m the wrong person to ask that.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. Clutter, do people think we eat brains?¡±

    ¡°Sort of? The rumors mostly just say you¡¯d kill all of us if any of you were still alive. Maybe the ¡®eat brains¡¯ thing was something I just made up on my own. Or¡­ did I hear it somewhere?¡± He furrows his brow as it looks like he seriously tries to remember something. ¡°Hm. I can¡¯t remember, but I definitely remember thinking a shellraiser would eat my brains at some point. Did you eat Shelby¡¯s brain and take her over?¡±

    Pearl recoils in disgust. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ vile! The only reason I¡¯d put myself in someone¡¯s brain is to give them a gift, thank you very much!¡±

    Clutter visibly pales, and when his voice comes out, it¡¯s barely a whisper. ¡°Does that mean you are in her brain?¡±

    Okay, that¡¯s enough brain talk for now. I clap my hands to draw the attention back to me, then gesture at the speckles of shimmering glass dust around Clutter.

    ¡°We¡¯re changing the subject. Clutter, can you bring out a sphere of each colour? I want Pearl to take a look at them.¡±

    He quickly glances at my ear. Pearl grins and rubs the top of it, which pulls a cartoonishly loud ¡®gulp¡¯ from Clutter¡¯s throat. I sigh and roll my shoulder to get Pearl to stop, which she does with a maliciously innocent giggle.

    ¡°Clutter. Focus. Spheres.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ okay¡­ but¡­ well¡­¡± He stares at Pearl, then shakes his head. ¡°You¡¯re still you, Shelby? Promise?¡±

    I nod seriously. ¡°I¡¯m more ¡®me¡¯ than before I met Pearl. But if you really want something to be terrified about, Pearl and Illumisia literally remade my body when I died. Nerves, blood, bones¨Calmost all of it. Worry about that before you worry about her controlling me.¡±

    His eyes go comically wide. ¡°You died?¡±

    ¡­That¡¯s not the part I thought he was going to focus on. ¡°Yeah. A few days after I got my Class Coin, I almost froze to death.¡±

    Pearl coughs. I roll my eyes.

    ¡°Correction; I actually froze to death. Pearl and Illumisia saved me, and we¡¯ve been working together ever since. Technically Pearl and I were working together before that, too, but it kind of feels like that was the point of no return.¡± I grin to myself and reach up to fondly run my fingers down Pearl¡¯s ¡®hair¡¯. ¡°You know, we¡¯ve got some time to kill. I can multitask telling a story and messing with these spheres thanks to my awareness.¡±

    He nods vigorously, and when he looks at Pearl again, there¡¯s no fear in his eyes. Only something like¡­ admiration. Or thanks.

    ¡°You can do it while you take those pills.¡±

    My spine stiffens. ¡°Pills? What pills? Oh, you mean the pills I can¡¯t access right now thanks to the quest¨Cthat¡¯s too bad. Guess I can¡¯t use them for a while.¡±

    As I speak, my Class Card appears in my hands. I grimace as it projects my inventory, displaying only the things that were visible before. And right before my eyes, one extra space becomes visible. The one with the damn pills Illumisia fetched from Ursula.

    ¡°God damn it.¡± I mutter as Pearl climbs down my arm. ¡°Is the quest being a dick now, too?¡±

    She shrugs as Clutter summons the four spheres for her. ¡°Ursula probably made the packaging, too. Or maybe March. They¡¯d make it so you can take them out whenever you want, wouldn¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ yeah, but¡­ why didn¡¯t it just show up at the start? This is too suspicious. I shouldn¡¯t take them.¡± I hastily justify and go to put away my Class Card. Instead, the pills pop into my hand¨Cand there¡¯s a paper note attached to the container. I grimace and read it out loud. ¡°¡®To Shelby¨CIllumisia said you were happy these didn¡¯t teleport over. So we made sure you¡¯d have some. Love Ursula.¡¯¡±

    That bitch.

 Chapter 186: One Type, Slight Variance

    Staring at the pills feels like it¡¯s going to give me a headache, so I stick them in my pocket. Pearl and Clutter both shoot me the exact same damn look¨Cone that says they¡¯re not letting me get out of using the pills. And Clutter doesn¡¯t even know what they are!

    ¡°Can you go grab me one of the bodies?¡± Pearl asks. ¡°I want to see what the connections look like. Oh, and if there¡¯s more than one type, grab me one of each.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s only one type.¡± Clutter says. ¡°It¡¯s the magic that makes them work differently.¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°I know. But the system could¡¯ve changed things while we weren¡¯t looking, so it¡¯s worth checking out anyway. Besides,¡± Pearl turns to me with a mischievous grin, ¡°you need the exercise, don¡¯t you Shelby?¡±

    I roll my eyes and turn to leave. ¡°Won¡¯t need it for much longer. Try to find the secrets of the tower while I¡¯m gone.¡±

    ¡°Will do!¡± Pearl waves. ¡°Don¡¯t go too far without me! I have attachment issues!¡±

    Clutter¡¯s eyebrows shoot to the top of his forehead. ¡°You do?¡±

    Pearl stares blankly at him. ¡°It was a joke. I can stand being away from Shelby for at least an hour.¡±

    ¡°What about more than that?¡±

    ¡°...So, what kind of magic do they use here?¡± Pearl taps one of the spheres with her fingertips. ¡°Is it normally a liquid, or are they using solids that liquify under the right circumstances? Ooh, or gases that condense under those circumstances?¡±

    ¡°You¡­ um¡­¡± Clutter blinks and looks in my direction with a little confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But you didn¡¯t answer me about¨C¡±

    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t know; you¡¯re not well versed in this. Let me give you a little demonstration.¡± Pearl cuts him off with a sharp smile. ¡°So, from what I¡¯ve seen, most of you just use runes that store magic and recharge themselves slowly. But if you want something like this, then you need¡­¡±

    Clutter stares after me as Pearl starts a long-winded explanation that really sounds like it only exists so she doesn¡¯t have to answer his question. Maybe it¡¯s to cover the fact that we¡¯re bound by the quest, but I thought we were going to tell Clutter that in¡­ a few minutes. Could be she wants to keep that part a secret. I¡¯ll have to ask her before I say anything out loud.

    My footsteps slowly out volume the conversation above me, and within seconds, I¡¯m standing at the bottom of the tower with my hand on the wall. It opens up before me, revealing the pristine construct bodies that Clutter took down. I run a finger over the coins in my holster just to make sure I¡¯m still armed, focus on my awareness to feel for threats, and when nothing comes back I make my way to the closest body.

    The thing looks no different than when Clutter dispatched it. I lean down and turn it to make sure the circle with a dot inside is still there, and sure enough, it is. So into my inventory it goes. One of the empty slots fills with one body, and it offers me exactly zero extra information. No Worth for when I sell it, no name, nothing. Only way to get any info from these is to identify them.

    ¡°Almost feels like that should be the other way around.¡± I note as I move to the next body. ¡°If the quest¡¯s removing most of the system functions, it¡¯d make sense to get rid of identify before item descriptions. Or¡­ both, honestly.¡±

    I lean down and check the next body. Which¨Csurprise, surprise¨Cis exactly the same as the first. Even down to how the wiry limbs wrap around the central rectangular mass. I can easily imagine a factory pumping out hundreds of these things at a time, and separating them into groups so their heads can be filled with differently coloured magic. But I guess having two of them to check out and actually confirm what I think I¡¯m seeing can¡¯t be detrimental, so into my inventory it goes.

    The body disappears with a thought. I open my Class Card to ensure it actually made it, and¡­ only one slot¡¯s occupied. The same one that the first body went into. Now the little image shows two of them pressed together tightly like hotdogs in plastic packaging. I¡­ don¡¯t think that¡¯s how it should work. Each of them should take up one slot.

    I frown and turn my attention to the other bodies. Something¡¯s¡­ off. Not sure what it is, or if I¡¯m just imagining things, but it feels like there¡¯s something important here. Something that¡¯s being thrown off by the fact that identify worked and the item description didn¡¯t. All these bodies look exactly the same. But if there¡¯s even a slight difference, the only way to tell would be by item descriptions with how general the identification information was.

    Or by taking all of them into my inventory and seeing which ones don¡¯t go into the same stack.

    It takes me five minutes to go around and deposit all the bodies into my inventory. I don¡¯t bother checking with each individual one, so when I send the last one away, I swipe to my inventory to see if my hunch was on the money, or just completely pointless.

    Three inventory slots worth of construct bodies stare back at me. One with ten. The second with nine. And the third with exactly one. Already that screams suspicious to me, but just in case there¡¯s something else at play, I take one body out of each inventory slot. Then, one by one, I deposit them in every possible combination of orders.

    The two bodies from slots one and two go back into those slots based on one thing alone¨Cwhich one I deposit first. Since they¡¯re interchangeable between slots, I can assume they¡¯re exactly the same. But the third one¨Cthat one always goes right back into a fresh slot. It won¡¯t stack with any of the others no matter how I split things up. And the strangest thing of all?This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    It looks, feels, and¨Cto my awareness¨Cis exactly the same as the other nineteen.

    I smile down at my Class Card, then send it away with a flick of my wrist. Looks like there¡¯s more to this than I initially thought, and if the hint from the orb in the tunnels is anything to go by, the tower itself is going to have something to do with it. Before I can go back and check, though, I¡¯ve got another batch of construct bodies to check out.

    Just wish I hadn¡¯t¡­ damaged them a little more than Clutter did.

    <hr>

    Another ten minutes later, since I apparently launched a few of the constructs a little further than I thought, and I¡¯ve got forty total construct bodies in my inventory. At first I was a little worried that the¡­ chips and bumps¡­ would mess with the grouping, but it just put a little asterisk next to the inventory space with the number of damaged ones in the group.

    In total, I¡¯ve got five inventory spaces dedicated to the bodies. Three with ten, one with eight, and another with two. Unfortunately for dumbass me, one of the group of two is¡­ a little more damaged than the others. I couldn¡¯t find the chunks that make up the lower third of it, and there¡¯s a giant scratch right through the rune. Hopefully it¡¯s still useful, even if only as a comparison to the intact one.

    I press my palm to the wall and open up the tower. Sounds of a vigorous and much less one-sided conversation instantly hit me, and I can¡¯t help but grin as Clutter and Pearl¡¯s argument about the best way to stargaze gets just heated enough that she brings out the big gun; ¡®damn¡¯. He fires back with multiple ¡®heck¡¯s, then finishes with calling her argument ¡®shit¡¯ and immediately backpedaling while vigorously apologizing for getting too heated.

    ¡°Shelby!¡± Pearl calls before I get halfway up the stairs. ¡°Come settle an argument for us.¡±

    Clutter sits bolt upright, then grimaces. ¡°She¡¯s back already? It¡¯s only been¡­ oh, wait, it¡¯s been fifteen minutes. Darn you for making me lose track of time.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the only thing you¡¯re losing.¡± Pearl mutters as I stick my head into view. She turns to me with an accusatory gesture at Clutter¡¯s chest while her other hand fishes through a tiny hole in the yellow orb. ¡°This dummy thinks that stargazing should be done from the highest point possible¨Ceven if the view or area you¡¯re in isn¡¯t as nice as it could be. He¡¯d stand tiptoe on an inch-wide stick if it means he can get a little bit higher!¡±

    Clutter sighs and shakes his head in exasperation. ¡°Because the entire point is to get as close to the stars as possible. Sure, a few extra feet won¡¯t do much, but climbing to the highest point available gets you by far the best results.¡±

    Pearl sputters in disbelief. ¡°Results? Results? You go for the experience, not the results! A nice, roaring fire, good food, and friends make the best stargazing outings. Shelby, what do you think?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and summon all thirty-eight similar construct bodies in a corner. They appear perfectly stacked, with just a little space between them for the overhang of their limbs. Clutter gasps, but Pearl doesn''t even react. She just stares at me expectantly.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re distracting yourselves from something. But I can¡¯t imagine what that is.¡± I say flatly, then summon the two different constructs right between the two arguers. ¡°Do you really care? Both your opinions are acceptable.¡±

    ¡°No, they aren¡¯t.¡± Pearl states flatly. ¡°Clutter likes being alone and going as high as he can. I want as many people there as possible where the best views are. Which one¡¯s better?¡±

    ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t need to be alone. It¡¯s just¡­¡± Clutter trails off as he looks away. ¡°Sometimes you don¡¯t want people there. You just want to be alone with your thoughts to figure some things out.¡±

    Pearl huffs, then begrudgingly nods. ¡°I guess that¡¯s true.¡±

    Clutter tilts his head to the side. ¡°It is?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, of course it is. It¡¯s your stupid ¡®screw the view¡¯ idea that I hate.¡±

    ¡°...Oh.¡±

    ¡°Cool. You¡¯re both happy-ish. Can we focus on this now?¡± I motion at the constructs I dumped between them. ¡°Those two are different from the other thirty-eight somehow. Pearl, can you feel any difference? Or do we have to take them apart?¡±

    ¡°Fine. We can table this argument for now.¡± She carefully removes her hand from the sphere and leans in to take a look. ¡°Nothing at first glance. How¡¯d you know they¡¯re different?¡±

    ¡°Because they went into different inventory slots.¡±

    She nods. ¡°That¡¯d do it. We¡¯ll have to run some tests on these to see if they¡¯re made out of a material that looks the same, but doesn''t have all the same properties. Clutter, did the heads all group together in their own inventory slots?¡±

    Begrudgingly, he nods. ¡°Each colour had its own slot. But none of them had a description to go along with them.¡±

    ¡°Neither did the bodies.¡± I add. ¡°The system¡¯s suppressing it for some reason.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Probably to stop you from instantly solving whatever puzzle this is.¡± Pearl pats one of the constructs with her palm, then motions at the perfectly stacked pile. ¡°Can you bring one of those over?¡±

    I nod, walk over to the pile, and grab one for her.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± She says as I place it on the other side of the sphere. ¡°Come help me out here, Clutter. We¡¯ll look into this while Shelby does one of her workouts.¡±

    I grimace, but don¡¯t say anything as Clutter scooches over to sit next to Pearl. The two of them instantly get to work, leaving me to get to a pill-fueled torture session masquerading as a workout. The container pushes against my leg as a horrible reminder that I¡¯m going to have to improvise for the workouts Ursula made for me.

    ¡°But what if we get attacked?¡± I argue. ¡°I can¡¯t be out of commission for that.¡±

    ¡°We will get attacked. But right now, we have a little safe downtime. There¡¯s a good chance you won¡¯t get to do this again for a few days¨Cmaybe even a few weeks.¡± Pearl turns away from the construct and smiles. ¡°You got a lot more stat points when you came back to this world. Right now they¡¯re just going to waste, and that¡¯s a huge shame.¡±

    I sigh and shake my head. She¡¯s right, but that doesn¡¯t mean I have to like it. And without some liquid sleep on hand, I¡¯m going to be completely out of commission for at least a few hours after this. They better hope Clutter¡¯s strong enough to defend us against whatever rears its ugly head before I¡¯m recuperated.

 Chapter 187: Kick Back, But Not For Long

    By the time I¡¯m finished with my workout, everything hurts. But that¡¯s obvious. Sweat drenches my clothes, my breaths are raggedy and short, and doing anything but sitting still takes too much energy. Making my way up to the top of the tower is a labor with jelly legs is a labor itself, and when I collapse onto the floor near Clutter and Pearl, they look at me with a mixture of emotions.

    Clutter¡¯s starts off with worry. Pearl¡¯s is mostly amusement, but there¡¯s pity underneath.

    ¡°Did it go well?¡± She asks.

    I groan. ¡°Went perfectly. Just sucks to do.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ normal?¡± Clutter gestures at me. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look normal.¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°¡®Normal¡¯ is different for Worth classes. Why don¡¯t you tell Shelby what it¡¯s like for you when you get a stat point just to drive the difference home?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ it just¡­ happens. Then I can think better or feel better. I can¡¯t imagine what it¡¯d be like to actually have to work for those gains.¡± Clutter pauses, as if remembering why I took the pills in the first place mid-sentence. ¡°Ooh. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Mrgh. Not your fault. It¡¯s the system¡¯s fault.¡± I grumble and flip over to my back so I can stare at the ceiling. ¡°Did you two make some progress at least?¡±

    Pearl nods as she taps the more broken construct body with her knuckles. ¡°The constructs that didn¡¯t stack with the others are weaker. They scratch easier, break easier, and when Clutter put all his strength into twisting it we could see it straining. In comparison, the others are nearly indestructible. It took¡­ ten times as much effort to even scratch them, and the only one with any real damage was from your projectiles.¡±

    I close my eyes and take a centering breath. ¡°So what¡¯s the verdict? Do you think they¡¯re older, or just¡­ weaker?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the question we can¡¯t answer.¡± Pearl sighs. ¡°The materials themselves seem like they have the exact same makeup¨Csame colour, same grain, same density and weight. If they were just older, or a little more damaged, then they¡¯d still stack, as you proved by putting all of them in one big pile.¡±

    ¡°True.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is. And until we have access to something that can actually analyze these things, we¡¯re not getting any more information from them. I even had Clutter put each of the heads on the bodies to see how they reacted¨Cand there was no difference between the two. For all purposes, they work exactly the same.¡±

    ¡°Unless you wanted to build with them.¡± Clutter chimes in. ¡°Then you¡¯d have a bunch of structural weaknesses.¡±

    Pearl frowns. ¡°Well, yes, but I can think of a whole bunch of reasons like that. I¡¯m talking purely for what they¡¯re being used for right now.¡±

    ¡°But what if this is some kind of hint? Like¡­ the quest shows us that everything that looks and seems to work exactly the same isn¡¯t really the same.¡± He turns to me with an excited thump of his tail. ¡°We could go back through the walls, hit everything, and see what gets damaged! That could lead us to something new!¡±

    ¡°If we get an extra two years, sure. But until we find a way to identify the weaker ones without testing every individual specimen, we don¡¯t have the time.¡± I cross my arms over my chest and set my jaw. My teeth hurt for some reason when they¡¯re not pressed together. ¡°So that¡¯s a discovery from the bodies, but one we can¡¯t use yet. How about the magic in the heads? Any insight from that?¡±

    Clutter and Pearl share a look, then after a few seconds, he motions for her to go ahead. She nods and motions at the four spheres sitting close to the bodies they were working with.

    ¡°They¡¯re liquid at this place¡¯s ambient temperature. That doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re always liquid, but until we get some equipment to freeze or burn them, we can¡¯t really test it. And the friction from Clutter¡¯s hands wasn¡¯t enough to get it to do anything.¡± She says, and Clutter pats a sphere for emphasis. ¡°And this isn¡¯t exactly scientific proof, but Clutter was pretty sure the blue magic is exactly the same as the stuff in the catalyst¨Cso we went into the walls to check it out.¡±

    Clutter nods in agreement. ¡°It almost looked the same, but then I figured out a really important difference¨Cthe texture.¡±

    The image of the slimy, gooey blue magic in the catalyst instantly pops into my mind. In comparison, the stuff in the sphere is thin and very liquid-y. Almost like comparing water to molasses.

    ¡°I think I remember that.¡± I say slowly. ¡°So why¡¯s it important?¡±

    ¡°Because Pearl confirmed that the magic in the head is exactly the same as the magic the tower used to connect to the walls below. But it did something completely different than when the constructs used it.¡± Clutter starts to vibrate with excitement, his voice picking up in pace to match. ¡°She thinks the grey magic the blue magic was suspended in completely changed its properties and let the tower use it. And if that¡¯s true, then if we can find more of the grey stuff, we can probably put more catalysts into the tower to make it do more things!¡±

    ¡°Huh. That does sound cool. But where are you putting those catalysts?¡± I gesture at the circles that are now flush with the floor. ¡°Our only socket sank into the ground and took the catalyst tube with it.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Oh, that? Pssh.¡± Pearl waves a hand dismissively. ¡°I can get into the machinery and reset it. And I really doubt I¡¯m the only one that could do it, so other groups are definitely going to try something similar.¡±

    I nod. ¡°Okay. If we can find some grey magic and somehow get the catalyst tube out unharmed, we¡¯ll give it a shot. Do you two have any idea where we can find some?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Not a clue.¡±

    That¡¯s about what I expected. ¡°Well if the stuff was there at some point, we¡¯ll find more sooner or later.¡±

    ¡°Hopefully sooner.¡± Clutter adds helpfully.

    Pearl nods. ¡°Definitely sooner. I¡¯ll keep my awareness peeled for any signs of the stuff. You, too, Shelby¨Cjust in case I fall asleep or drift off in thought.¡±

    I raise a thumbs-up into the air. ¡°Can I take a nap now?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead. I want to look over the schematics we already have¨Cmaybe there¡¯s a way I can turn these constructs into schematics.¡± Pearl rubs her hands together eagerly. ¡°Can you handle watch duty on your own, Clutter?¡±

    Something twitches over Clutter¡¯s face, and he puffs out his chest ever so slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure nothing sneaks up on us. And I promise I won¡¯t make anything else explode.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡± I roll onto my side and curl an arm under my head. Then, just in case, I summon a few shields and projectiles. ¡°Use those if you need ¡®em. And if you go out, make sure you close the door behind you.¡±

    Clutter scooches over and scoops up the coins. ¡°Thanks. But I¡¯m not leaving you two alone; I¡¯ll be right here until you wake up.¡±

    I offer him a tired smile and shut my eyes tight.

    <hr>

    ¡®Thump-thump, thump-thump¡¯.

    Rhythmic impacts against the tower¡¯s roof slowly stir me from a dreamless sleep. I rub my eyes with my forearm as a yawn hisses through my teeth, and before I see him, my awareness tells me that Clutter¡¯s standing at the window. He¡¯s completely enraptured with whatever he¡¯s watching out there, and even as I get to my feet¨Cnot bothering at all to be quiet¨Cthe only way I can tell he hears me is the twitch of his ears.

    ¡°Good two-hours-later.¡± Pearl says cheerily from inside her shell. ¡°No luck with the schematics yet, but if we can find out how these constructs are built, I¡¯m sure I could put one together. I could probably make it way better than this, but I¡¯m not sure these things were made to be good.¡±

    I roll my shoulder and grimace at the creaks and pops. ¡°Do you think they¡¯re mass-produced garbage?¡±

    ¡°Garbage? No, not garbage. Those mockeries in the tunnels were garbage¨Cthey couldn¡¯t perform their intended function at all. I think these things were meant to be simple and uncomplicated¨Cso there¡¯s less to go wrong with their deliveries, and basically nothing that could interfere with the magic in their heads.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°If they do their job just fine, then how aren¡¯t they ¡®good¡¯?¡±

    Pearl purses her lips. ¡°You know, that¡¯s a good point. What if I said they weren¡¯t high end? Does that get the point across better?¡±

    ¡°Way better.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll remember that for next time.¡±

    With that, Pearl goes right back to working on whatever she¡¯s working on. I roll my other shoulder and walk up to Clutter, who smiles softly and nods even softer when I stand next to him. The sight through the glass is¡­ weird. My first instinct when I see the blanket of white coating the walls is that I missed a snowfall. But from how it shimmers and¡­ moves¡­ over the terrain¡­ it¡¯s more like I¡¯m watching the fallout from a disaster at the snowglobe factory.

    ¡°Isn''t it beautiful?¡± Clutter asks. ¡°I¡¯ve been watching it for almost half an hour, and every time it switches directions, my brain just can¡¯t register what I¡¯m seeing.¡±

    ¡°Switches direction?¡± I raise an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta see this.¡±

    Clutter nods in agreement. ¡°It happens every five minutes-ish. So it should be¡­ here it goes! Look up!¡±

    The tone of his voice is like a kid telling their parents to ¡®watch this¡¯. A grin pulls at the corner of my lips as I follow the trail of Clutter¡¯s gaze, only for it to fall away as I lay eyes on the biggest snowflake I¡¯ve ever seen. Even from where we stand, it looks like it¡¯s the size of a monster truck¨Chovering in the air near the end of the ¡®sky¡¯, perfectly parallel with the ground. Before my very eyes, the thing tips ever so slightly to the right. And the ¡®snow¡¯ on the ground shifts to move in that direction.

    ¡°Wow. That¡¯s¡­ insane.¡± I whisper as the giant snowflake shimmers in the sky. ¡°What kind of place has this many different kinds of freakish weather?¡±

    Clutter shrugs. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about most of these, but they happen on completely different parts of the world. According to a book I rad, this one was destroyed when some jerks stole the guideflake from the sky and broke it down into some extremely powerful weapons and armor a few centuries ago.¡±

    ¡°Hrm. Does that mean we¡¯re going to see every kind of weather that doesn¡¯t exist on your planet any more?¡±

    ¡°Maybe? I don¡¯t know.¡±

    I turn to him. ¡°Not in a theorizing mood right now?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°Not really. My brain kind of hurts from talking with Pearl too much. But if you want a bunch of random facts I¡¯ve memorized, I can easily tell you all of them.¡±

    ¡°You know what, sure. Hit me with your¡­ fifth-favorite.¡±

    ¡°My fifth-favorite? I¡¯ll have to think¡­ which one¡¯s number five and which is number six¡­¡± He crosses his arms and swishes his tail across the floor. ¡°Okay, I know which is number five. Did you know that there¡¯s a cavern out there somewhere that removes all the colour from everything that goes into it? We call it the ¡®strip mine¡¯. Because it strips away the colour from everything.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ everything just becomes the colour it originally was?¡±

    Clutter furrows his brow. ¡°No. Everything becomes the exact same shade of white no matter what it is. You have to put a spell on it before you go in, or else you¡¯ll look like you¡¯re made completely of chalk after a few minutes inside. People used to use it to get stains out of clothes.¡±

    That¡¯s a boring use for something so weird. Practical, definitely, but boring. ¡°So why¡¯s that number¨C¡±

    Four anchors have been established.

    Progressing quest.

 Chapter 188: Tower Controller

    I blink the message out of my vision and pull out my Class Card. Clutter does the same, and Pearl turns away from whatever she¡¯s working on to stare over my shoulder. The quest tab shows a bunch of dots under the progress. Does that mean¡­ something¡¯s actually happening to the city?

    A distant rumble rolls through my body. I glance up and into the distance as all the snow comes to a perfect stop, sitting on the walls like¡­ well, like snow should. Multiple twinges of magic itch at my mind, all of them far too powerful for them to come from any kind of person. Kind of like hearing a tornado touch down miles in the distance.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Clutter asks as he lowers his Class Card. ¡°Is the city changing?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my best guess. But until the quest updates, we can¡¯t know for sure.¡± I send my Class Card away and lean against the window to get a better look. ¡°I can¡¯t see anything changing. So whatever¡¯s happening, it¡¯s gotta be far away.¡±

    ¡°Or inside the walls themselves.¡± Pearl adds. ¡°Should we go check on the roots? Maybe they¡¯ve dug far enough to¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ connect to the quest?¡±

    I briefly consider it, but¡­ something holds me back. There¡¯s magic in the air. Far more than what¡¯s safe. Even the snowflake high in the air is twitching uncontrollably, but the snow doesn¡¯t move with it at all. Whatever magic is in the city has intense disruptive properties.

    ¡°No. We stay here until it passes.¡± I decide. ¡°Unless either of you want to risk it?¡±

    Clutter vigorously shakes his head. Pearl shrugs.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll hurt us, but I can¡¯t say for sure, so this is probably the right call.¡± Pearl says. ¡°Good thing we took the constructs inside. I bet this would¡¯ve done some serious damage to them.¡±

    I nod in agreement. The magic outside¡­ it¡¯s¡­ oh. Wait. I can feel the magic outside with my awareness. That means it¡¯s so strong it¡¯s slightly seeping through the tower. Yeah, we¡¯re definitely not going outside until this is done.

    Anchoring complete.

    Subquest progress: tower anchorer.

    The city has become irradiated with deadly magics. It will begin damaging you after a number of seconds equal to ten times your clearance level while outside and unprotected.

    Only the inside of the walls remain safe. Yet it would seem that the anchoring has changed the walls as well. Perhaps looking into the differences will provide insight into a way forward.

    ¡­

    Subquest complete.

    Reward: complete tower access.

    As I finish reading, the notification collapses in on itself until nothing but a holographic black square remains. Flaring grey magic etches a simple symbol onto the top¨Ca circle with a dot inside. I hold it up to the light, and I can see a ton of folded layers pressed together to make this thing.

    ¡°Do you think this is tower access?¡± I wonder aloud.

    Clutter holds up his own square, which sparkles with blue and brilliant white. It, too, has the same symbol on it. He turns it around a few times with an inquisitive look on his face, then slowly nods.

    ¡°This is a system upgrade. I¡­ think it¡¯s temporary, though.¡± He holds out his Class Card, then presses the square to it. ¡°Oh, yep, this is tower access. Wait, can I¡­ ooh, I can! Look!¡±

    He taps his Class Card, and a soft click sounds from behind me. I turn to the source; the anchor catalyst, which is now sticking a few inches out of the ground. More noises echo from inside of the tower as the concentric circles rise from the floor, extending the anchor further and further out as they rise. Clutter walks over to it and pulls the anchor free with a grin, then grimaces as the horribly sterile smell comes right back.

    ¡°Ick. Yuck. Go away.¡± He pulls up his shirt to cover his nose, sticks the catalyst back in the divot, and presses something on his Class Card. The circles retract, taking the catalyst and the smell with them. ¡°At least we know we can get it back out. And where the smell came from. What kind of permissions do you have?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Probably the same as yours?¡±

    Clutter shakes his head. ¡°It says I have complete inner-tower control, and that that¡¯s exactly half of the total controls. Which means you have the other half!¡±

    Other half? I look down at my Class Card, press the square to it, and watch as it sinks into my card like a stone into a thick bog. Lines of magic trace across the surface of my card, and it forces me back to my main page. Then the magic trails to my map tab, opens it, and zooms in on our exact position.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    A taller hologram of the tower springs out at me like a pop-up book made by an asshole. I flinch away as the thing almost takes my eye out, but after that initial burst, it sinks down to about an inch tall. Perfectly representing the tower itself, and¡­ in a small radius around it, snow appears. That upgrade didn¡¯t just give me tower access; it looks like it improved my map around the tower as well.

    Yunrov District Tower Access: Outer.

    Access: All(Change).

    Detection Range: Maximum(Change).

    Opacity: 99%(Change).

    Current Draw: Mana(Change).

    Half of the current functions are assigned to another.

    Remaining functions offline.

    I blink at the admittedly small list of controls. None of them are immediately obvious to my just-woke-up brain, but they¡¯ve all got prompts next to them for me to fiddle with. And one of Clutter¡¯s prompts obviously let him open up the anchor circles, so let¡¯s give it a shot. Starting with¡­ access.

    My finger taps the prompt, and all the text disappears¨Conly for some new stuff to take its place moments later.

    Current Access options: All/Identification.

    Blacklist and Whitelist unavailable until further notice.

    Alright. I¡¯m going to assume that means my choices are ¡®anyone can come in¡¯ or ¡®only people with tower access can come in¡¯. At this very moment, I see absolutely no reason why I wouldn¡¯t shift it to the much safer option. So I do.

    The tower creaks. Clutter tilts his head to look at the ceiling, and the symbol from the constructs appears to perfectly ring it. He yelps as a grey curtain falls over him, then turns to me as the exact same thing happens.

    ¡°You just did that, right?¡±

    ¡°Pretty sure I did. And now nobody can come in here but us.¡± I back out of the option, then press on whatever ¡®draw¡¯ means. ¡°Keep watching the horizon. I¡¯m pretty sure something¡¯s going to happen to the city sooner or later.¡±

    He slowly nods and goes back to looking out the window, though now his focus is split between his Class Card and the city. Not that I can blame him for it; the fact that we now have control over this tower isn¡¯t just interesting; it raises a lot of potential questions about how the quest is going to go from now.

    Because, theoretically, this tower is now completely impenetrable. That¡¯s a great thing for holing up, but it also means we could lock someone in. Or someone could lock themselves in their own tower with all the loot if they have control over the access. Not me, obviously, but when we find other people, we¡¯ll have to ask which one of them has control over what parts of their tower.

    Current Draw Options: Mana/Energy/Health/Air.

    If oxygen levels drop too low, this will automatically shift to draw air.

    ¡­Okay¡­ so¡­ apparently this works like ventilation, but with things other than air. I press ¡®energy¡¯ to see what that does, and a twinge of awareness instantly drills into my spine. It feels like I¡¯m constantly breathing in very small doses of caffeine, but that caffeine is actually revitalizing me¨Cnot just pushing away the fatigue.

    It¡¯s just like my potions. Health, mana, and sleep. I switch it to ¡®health¡¯ for now, to help with my recovery, and make a mental note to shift it over to energy when I¡¯m feeling perfect.

    Clutter sniffs the air. ¡°It smells like wet plants.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the smell of health. Apparently.¡±

    ¡°It smells more like a forest after a rainstorm.¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Complain to the quest if you don¡¯t like it. Personally, I¡¯m fine with anything that¡¯s not that horrible¡­ ¡®clean¡¯ smell.¡±

    We both shudder at the memory, and Clutter doesn¡¯t have any more complaints. I swap back to my overview screen, then take a look at the last two options.

    Detection Range Options: Maximum/Balanced/Minimal.

    The higher the range, the weaker the detection effect.

    ¡­

    Opacity Options: 99%/50%/1%.

    Warning: only lower this if you are able to withstand the outside radiation.

    Detection range is probably how far the ¡®snow¡¯ part of my map updates around the tower, and opacity seems like lowering it would let more radiation in. Not sure why I¡¯d even want to control that, but I¡¯ll try to remember that it exists for an edge case. I set the distance to ¡®balanced¡¯, stare at my map for a few seconds as the radius adjusts, and frown at the absolutely nothing that changes.

    I guess there¡¯s not much to detect right now. So I¡¯ll just keep it on maximum until something pops up. And¡­ that¡¯s it for now. We have a safe place, where we can apparently rest and recover with improved effect, and the ability to mess with it even more. Not a bad reward, but right now, I can¡¯t see how this is leading us towards anything important.

    Especially since we have to leave the tower to search. If a group doesn¡¯t have some kind of teleportation spell or skill, they¡¯re at a huge disadvantage. Luckily for us, we¡¯ve got two of them.

    I nod at Clutter''s back. ¡°Did you already set up a starway here?¡±

    ¡°Oh, right, good idea. I completely forgot to do that.¡± He waves a hand, and a tiny shimmering mass of magic dissolves into the air around us. ¡°That¡¯ll take a week or so to get ready, so don¡¯t count on it.¡±

    The little magic spell divides in two, then in four, then eight¡ªcontinuing to grow smaller and smaller until my awareness can barely feel the thousands of tiny particles in the air with us. I wave a hand through the stuff, but it doesn¡¯t move¨Calmost like it already doesn¡¯t exist in the same place as we do.

    ¡°That¡¯s all you have to do? Wait?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°It also costs so much mana that I¡¯ll only be half as useful for about a day. Then it puts me in a constant mana deficit for¡­ about an eighth of my mana until it fully forms. After that, though, it just takes a good chunk of mana to activate. Pretty neat, huh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it is. Not as convenient as my coins, but definitely more reliable.¡±

    Clutter straightens his spine with pride at my complement. ¡°I can be reliable sometimes.¡±

    ¡°You can be reliable now.¡± I grin and drop two relocation coins on the floor. ¡°Link yourself to one of them, then get ready to go. I want to see what¡¯s changed in the wall-halls.¡±

 Chapter 189: Just a Scratch

    A few minutes later, I drop straight through the tower into the middle of the roots below. They shift away from me this time, almost like they¡¯re trying to give me space. I bet that¡¯s another bonus for having control of the tower, but it could just be that I¡¯m a little more recharged than before. A quick glance around doesn¡¯t show anything obviously different, so I look up and motion for Clutter to drop down.

    ¡°You have to¡­¡± He makes a pushing motion with his hands.

    ¡°Right. Whoops.¡± I step to the side, then tilt my head up at him. ¡°Good?¡±

    He nods. ¡°Good.¡±

    His legs swing over the edge, then the rest of him. He lands in a crouch where his knees almost touch the floor from how low he bends, and he gives the area a quick once-over before slowly rising to his full height.

    ¡°There¡¯s so much magic here.¡± He whispers in awe. ¡°And all of it is¡­ just¡­ appearing from the little bit we used in the catalyst.¡±

    Pearl pushes out of her shell and makes herself comfortable on my shoulder. ¡°The tower is some kind of magical device. But we already knew that, so the question is; why can¡¯t we feel all the work the tower is doing when we¡¯re inside of it? If it¡¯s somehow duplicating the magic from the catalyst, that should take a lot of magical effort.¡±

    ¡°No idea. Maybe it¡¯s drawing magic from the walls?¡± I shrug as I brush aside some root-like tentacles to reveal a path. ¡°This place is just weird; there¡¯s obviously magic everywhere, but I can¡¯t feel any of the not obvious stuff.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t feel magic, but nothing here really looked like magic before.¡± Clutter ducks into the path, then turns to wait for me. ¡°But we¡¯re just touching the walls and doorways appear almost anywhere. For something that magical that works pretty much everywhere, it should leave behind a whole lot of ambient magic.¡±

    Pearl nods in agreement as we start walking away from the place we spawned. ¡°And we should feel the magic come from somewhere if it¡¯s being sent to the wall right when we touch it. But all I can feel is the door appearing. Kind of like¡­ the magic¡¯s always here, but it¡¯s dormant somehow until someone activates it.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Is that possible?¡±

    ¡°Yes or no. If that¡¯s what¡¯s happening here, then yes. According to everything else I know; no.¡± She taps her feet against my shoulder as she looks around at the roots. ¡°This sensation right now is what I¡¯d expect to always feel here¨Cmagic that¡¯s confined to strict boundaries, so it doesn¡¯t leak out everywhere, but that¡¯s still always visible.¡±

    She leans to the side, grabbing my earlobe to keep herself steady, and stretches her fingertips until she brushes against a strand of thin, blue magic. A tiny blue spark snaps between her finger and the strand, and for a split second, her fingertip goes completely blue. With a shudder and a grimace, she pulls away.

    ¡°Yuck, yeah, that¡¯s connected to some kind of central network. It tried to kick me out and pull me in at the same time.¡± She shakes her hand, and the blue literally flies out of her finger and splatters against the ground. ¡°I think it¡¯s the tower, but we¡¯re almost out of its detection range already. So what else is it using the roots for?¡±

    I shrug at the leading question, and Clutter shakes his head. Pearl either doesn''t notice or doesn¡¯t care, and just leads right into muttering to herself about how she can take this ¡®technology¡¯ for herself. If she hasn¡¯t seen it before, then it¡¯s probably not shellraiser tech or derived from it.

    But if that¡¯s true¡­ what kind of species had this tech? Are they still around? Did the system get rid of them like it did the shellraisers, or did it change them like it did the paindne? Hell, is this actually a city that existed in the world before? People definitely would¡¯ve found¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ ruins if it just decayed, or a giant anomaly if it suddenly disappeared. Then again, the system could easily just cover that up, too.

    ¡­I guess until we actually find out what this place is, I¡¯ll just have to keep guessing.

    As if to snap me out of my thoughts, Clutter lets out an excited noise and jogs ahead. I watch with a raised eyebrow as he plants his hands on a wall a few dozen steps away, but before he says anything, his tail lowers and he steps away dejected. I start to open my mouth to ask him a question, but his tail starts wagging before I can get a word in and he rushes to the other wall¨Cjumping a thick root and smacking away some tentacles to get there.

    ¡°Find anything interesting?¡± I ask when he doesn¡¯t instantly run away.

    ¡°I think so. Come take a look at this!¡± He licks his lips, then takes a step back and proudly gestures at a¡­ scratch on the wall. ¡°Isn¡¯t it neat?¡±

    I lean in, just in case I¡¯m missing anything, but it just looks like a gouge in stone to me.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°I¡¯m not seeing it. Got an explanation loaded?¡±

    He vigorously nods. ¡°Look at the edges¨Cif this was a normal scratch mark, like the one I thought was abnormal a few seconds ago¨Cwhat should be there?¡±

    ¡°...I don¡¯t know. Debris?¡±

    ¡°Nope! Less!¡± He taps the edge of the claw, then makes a scraping motion along it. ¡°If you swung something against this wall, you¡¯d impact right here, then dig deeper as you get close to the middle, and then shallow again as you pull away. But right here, this gouge is perfectly even all the way through. And it¡¯s even the exact same width all the way through!¡±

    From how excited his voice sounds, I feel like I¡¯m missing something here. ¡°Clutter, I don¡¯t know shit about this. Why¡¯s it exciting?¡±

    ¡°Because! This isn¡¯t something you can make with random debris! Someone was here, and they made this¨Ceither on purpose as some kind of marking, or when they were testing something out, or¡­ I can¡¯t think of a third thing right now, but you get what I¡¯m saying, right?¡±

    I furrow my brow and slowly nod. ¡°Not to burst your bubble, but you¡­ uh¡­ do remember the trapped tiles, right? How we definitely came to the conclusion that someone trapped them after the fact because we could see them, and I could feel the magic under them?¡±

    He stares blankly at me. Then blinks slowly as a blush creeps up his cheeks. ¡°U-um, I-I, I definitely didn¡¯t forget! This is so much different! Those traps, someone made them to¡­ um¡­ keep people out! But this is¡­ it¡¯s¡­ to show someone something!¡±

    As Clutter smiles shakily, Pearl and I share a look. Even if he¡¯s making stuff up on the spot to try and downplay his embarrassment, he still makes a good point. The mark was made deliberately¨Cand as far as I can tell, there aren¡¯t any traps in this part of the hall. So whatever it¡¯s marking, if it¡¯s even marking something at all, is meant to be seen.

    ¡°Hum. You might have a point.¡± I step up to him and gently nudge him out of the way. ¡°I doubt it¡¯s this easy, but what the hell. Takes thirty seconds if I¡¯m wrong.¡±

    I press my hand to the wall. Magic traces my skin, somehow coming from the surface of the wall where none was before, and¡­ nothing opens. I tilt my head to the side and take a step back, pulling my hand away. The grey glow doesn¡¯t dissipate. It sticks there in a perfect handprint, scraping at my awareness with an almost antagonistic crackle.

    ¡°See? See?¡± Clutter gestures at my handprint¨Cinside of which is the gouge¨Cwith a smile. ¡°I wasn¡¯t just being forgetful! Um, what¡¯s it doing? It¡­ isn¡¯t doing anything. Or going away.¡±

    Pearl hums deep in thought. ¡°I can¡¯t tell. It¡¯s just under the surface of the material, but it¡¯s¡­ not there. Like how you can see your reflection in glass, but you¡¯re not really there. Um, not that I¡¯m insinuating there¡¯s somewhere else the magic actually is. Just that it¡¯s¡­ well¡­ okay, that was a bad analogy. It¡¯s there, but there¡¯s no space for it to be there. Does that make any sense?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ trying to stick a photograph inside of a rock?¡± Clutter suggests.

    ¡°Sure. That¡¯s good enough.¡± Pearl says with a nod. ¡°Maybe you should check your map, Shelby?¡±

    I nod and summon my Class Card. There¡¯s a good chance this thing will appear on the map as a new marker. But we¡¯ve only been walking for¡­ maybe ten minutes at most. Not that far at all. Damn, now I wish we¡¯d checked here before the towers got anchored. Then we¡¯d know if this is a brand new addition or if we just missed it before.

    My map pops open, and I push it away just a little so the plastic-y tower doesn¡¯t poke me in the eye. I zoom out a little just in case, but there¡¯s absolutely no change from before. It even looks like the map only shows a birds-eye view¨Cwhich, now that I think of it, could be why it doesn¡¯t look like anything¡¯s changed. Zooming in as far as I can go doesn¡¯t seem to do anything, either, so the map¡¯s no help.

    ¡°Nothing. But that doesn¡¯t mean there isn¡¯t anything.¡± I send my Class Card away with a flick of my wrist. ¡°The map only shows a top-down view. If there¡¯s anything in the walls, it doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯ll be any help.¡±

    Clutter frowns and stares accusingly at the wall. The magic roots hum along to their unknown purpose, and if I listen closely enough, I can hear them growing off into the distance. They¡¯re stretching towards something¨Cthat much is obvious¨Cbut whether that ¡®something¡¯ is important is another question.

    Silence hangs in the air like a static chill, broken only by the soft squelch of Pearl shifting on my shoulder. Something about the handprint is bothering all of us. It feels like it¡¯s supposed to be a marker or a hint¨Csomething to let us know we¡¯re on the right path¨Cbut we don¡¯t know what we¡¯re even starting to look for. Clutter could be right. Or it could be nothing at all. Or there could be some kind of a¡­ guide to the markings we find. A legend telling us what the gouge means.

    Or the gouge could¡¯ve damaged the magic in the wall, and we¡¯re overthinking about absolutely nothing.

    But¡­ the wall is damaged. I close my eyes and focus on the other scratch that Clutter looked at; to be honest, it doesn¡¯t look like a scratch at all. More like a piece of the grey tentacles broke off and stuck to the wall, since it¡¯s raised up and not scratched in. So aside from the floor traps, this is the first sign of any damage we¡¯ve seen to the material making up this place. Maybe¡­ hell, maybe it¡¯s just weaker here.

    Maybe that¡¯s what the gouge is signaling.

    I flip a projectile into my palm and aim it at the wall. Pearl grabs onto my ear for support, and Clutter yelps as he scurries to run away. I give him a few seconds to get clear, then focus on my coin. Nothing we¡¯ve done so far has even come close to damaging this place. So there¡¯s no reason not to put absolutely everything into power and size.

    ¡°Close your eyes.¡± I say to Pearl as I take a few steps back and raise my other arm to block my eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t want you getting blinded for no reason.¡±

    She nods and raises her arm. ¡°Ready.¡±

    The coin plinks off my thumbnail, and for one heartbeat, destruction exists. A deafening roar of magic that blinks into existence, full of salt and violence and shearing magical annihilation. I stare, eyes full of disbelief and the inability to understand just how much raw power that one projectile managed to create.

    And, through the head-sized hole it ripped into the wall, something peeks out at me. A hexagon of rock¨Cactual rock¨Cthat glimmers with my handprint.

 Chapter 190: Linerunner

    Grey magic twists around the hexagon. It splits free from my handprint and runs along the perimeter of the rock, a series of sharp beeps and clicks sounding as the magic hits each of the corners. Seconds later the grey magic line connects with itself to create a perfect outline of the hexagon, and magic barely drips out of the handprint to splatter on the ground.

    ¡°Is this a scanner?¡± Clutter steps up and carefully leans in to get a better look. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a hexagon! Just like the rock Dizzy and I found! Do you think it¡¯s going to open up like ours did?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t even considered that option. ¡°No idea, Clutter, but it¡¯s leaking some magic onto the ground. Whatever it¡¯s doing, it isn¡¯t done yet.¡±

    ¡°Definitely not.¡± Pearl confirms. ¡°You definitely activated something. Do you want to go see what it is?¡±

    I turn to Pearl. ¡°Is it doing something somewhere else?¡±

    She nods. ¡°There are some magical connections in the wall that just opened up. They go down a few levels, around a few tunnels, and then I can¡¯t trace them any more. So¡­ should we go¨C¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s follow it!¡± Clutter cuts in eagerly. ¡°I want to see whatever it opens up! This is¡­ like¡­ the entire reason you go on quests in the first place!¡±

    I nod, and Pearl gestures at the ground. Clutter takes a step back as his tail swishes over the floor, brushing away the debris from the destroyed wall like a very inefficient broom. I bend down and open up a doorway to the next level down, which is nowhere near as infested with roots, but still has thin strands of blue magic shot through every surface. Slipping through is easy, and Clutter jumps down right after¨Cjust barely avoiding landing on my head as I lurch out of the way.

    ¡°Um, sorry.¡± He apologizes meekly. ¡°I got too excited.¡±

    ¡°I get it, but don¡¯t lose focus.¡± I look around the tunnel, and¡­ wait. There¡¯s a line of grey magic leading down from the upper floor. ¡°Oh. I guess this isn¡¯t going to be that hard to follow.¡±

    ¡°Apparently not.¡± Pearl pouts. ¡°Now anyone could¡¯ve found this place.¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s a quest open to anyone.¡± Clutter says giddily. ¡°Look¨Cit still goes down. I¡¯ll open the door this time!¡±

    I motion for him to go ahead. ¡°You can open all of them from now on if you want.¡±

    ¡°Yes, please! Thank you!¡±

    Clutter smiles at me, then falls to his knees and presses his hand to the floor. Magic swirls into a circle below him. I open my mouth to remind him that the door¡¯s going to open right underneath him, but before I can get a word out, he yelps in surprise and disappears to the next level down.

    ¡°Ouch! I¡¯m okay!¡± He calls from below. ¡°And I definitely won¡¯t do that again!¡±

    I chuckle in amusement and step down into the doorway before it can close on me. Clutter rolls out of the way and gets to his feet in one practiced motion, eyes scanning the tunnel for the magic grey guideline all the while. My awareness can feel it already, but it seems like he really wants to lead for now. And since there¡¯s barely any risk involved, I¡¯ll happily step back for a few minutes.

    ¡°There!¡± He points to the exact same spot as on the floor above. ¡°We need to go down again!¡±

    He slams his hand against the ground, but this time, far enough away from himself that the door can form away from his feet. As soon as it opens up he jumps down, and I follow almost immediately after.

    ¡°Down again!¡±

    My feet barely touch the ground before Clutter opens up another door and jumps through. I raise an eyebrow at his mounting pace, but follow him anyway. We aren¡¯t necessarily short on time, but I get wanting to go as fast as possible.

    He watches me land, and before I can get a word out, he gestures off down the hall. A ninety degree turn from the grey line marks that as the direction to go, and he looks at me pleadingly as he hops impatiently from foot to foot.

    I wave him on. ¡°I¡¯ll keep up.¡±

    A smile blossoms over his face, and he sprints off. Pearl grabs onto my ear as I run after him, my body groaning just a little from the remnants of my workout. He laughs and spreads his arms as I slowly gain on him, and when I¡¯m finally within arm¡¯s reach, he looks over his shoulder with one of the happiest expressions I¡¯ve ever seen.

    ¡°Doesn''t it feel great to run inside? No roots, no people yelling at you, and the floor is perfectly even! I guess I have to thank whoever trapped this place for not trapping everything, or else I¡¯d have to put a lot of thought into this!¡±

    ¡°Not sure I¡¯ve ever really thought about it, but¡­ sure.¡± I shrug, which gets a cute little ¡®eep¡¯ out of Pearl. ¡°Not a huge fan of running outside?¡±

    He vigorously shakes his head. ¡°I love running outside! But it¡¯s completely different than running inside! You have to think more, but you get to climb things and jump over things. Here, all I have to think about is how fast my legs can take me! And you¡ªyou can actually keep up with me! So I have someone to run and talk with for once!¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°We already talked in the starway¡­ actually, no, we didn¡¯t. Huh.¡± I glance at the wall to make sure we¡¯re still going the right way. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡±

    His tail thrashes through the air while he laughs and runs like a giddy little kid. Words flow out of his mouth in a constant stream of random ramblings, and though I do my best to respond to all his hypotheticals and preference questions, he never runs out of things to say. Minutes fly by, and when the grey magical line points us in a different direction, Clutter barely stops to shift.

    We drop down two more levels, run for what feels like close to an hour, and still I don¡¯t feel any closer to wherever we¡¯re being led. Clutter doesn¡¯t give a shit¨Che¡¯s just happy to be here with free reign of an empty tunnel. But Pearl and I¡­ well¡­ once the blue roots disappear from the walls, we get a shared sensation that something¡¯s off. Not necessarily that something bad¡¯s going to happen, but that something¡¯s changed.

    ¡°There¡¯s residual magic here.¡± She whispers while Clutter rambles about how breakfast foods shouldn¡¯t just be eaten for breakfast. ¡°Not just from the line in the wall, but in the tunnel¡¯s air. And¡­ the air itself is stale.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°This feels more like what I¡¯d expect an ancient city to smell and taste like. Do you think we¡¯re finally out of the spawn area, if that even makes sense?¡±

    She hums in thought, tapping her chin with her fingertips. ¡°Maybe. Check your map; are we still in range of the tower?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why we wouldn¡¯t be. We¡¯ve only been running for¡­ an hour ish.¡± I say, but the sensation of Pearl staring through my skull makes me pull out my Class Card anyway. ¡°But it wouldn¡¯t hurt to check.¡±

    ¡°No. It wouldn¡¯t. So why were you even thinking against it?¡±

    My breath catches in my throat, and I skid to a stop. Clutter turns as the sound of my footsteps disappears and tilts his head when he sees that my legs aren¡¯t moving. Thing is; Pearl¡¯s right. Why wouldn¡¯t I just pull out my Class Card and check? It¡¯d only take a second, and it risks absolutely nothing. Normally I wouldn¡¯t even hesitate.

    But I did. Something made me hesitate.

    ¡°Clutter, fall in.¡± I say seriously. ¡°There might be another psychic around here.¡±

    His eyes widen, and he sprints to my side. ¡°Really? Why? Does your brain feel weird?¡±

    I grimace. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But I made a decision that I normally wouldn¡¯t, and I don¡¯t have an explanation for it right now. So we need to play it safe.¡±

    A purification coin appears on the ground, and I stomp it into a salty mist. Clutter shudders as he breathes it in, but the expression on his face doesn¡¯t change. So there¡¯s no immediate recognition of anything being wrong from him¡­ and none from me. Maybe it¡¯s just the new ambient magic setting me on edge. But I can¡¯t risk it when there could be another psychic in play.

    I open my Class Card, focusing most of my mental ability on my awareness for any signs of attacks. A soft, shrill noise kicks up in the distance. My awareness flickers as something hits the very edge of it, and I instinctively throw up a shield encasing all three of us. Three thuds splatter on my shield. A spray of coloured¡­ material¡­ coats it, and starts to eat away at the magic like a very weak acid.

    Memories of fighting the plastic mound from the graveyard explode to the forefront of my mind on geysers of thought. They¡¯re so visceral, painful, and fresh¨Cthat these things barely feel like anything in comparison. I set my jaw and motion for Clutter to stand back, then create a second shield just a few inches further than the first.

    No more things shoot out of nowhere. I glance around, fully expecting something to slink out of the ceiling or the floor, but nothing happens. Pearl and I share a confused look that Clutter joins in on a moment later, then all three of us lean towards the splatters that are slowly sliding down my shield.

    ¡°What the heck are they?¡± Pearl wonders aloud. ¡°They kind of look like the plastic stuff if you squint hard enough.¡±

    Clutter steps past me and puts his hand to the shield. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ dull, grey, and pulsating. Doesn¡¯t this remind you of that huge two-legged monster?¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Like the plastic stuff that¡¯s somehow alive-ish. Does that mean these were alive before they splattered against my magic?¡±

    ¡°I think so. They were shaped like rolled-up worms when they were flying through the air.¡± Pearl confirms. ¡°Well, they were shaped like disks at first, but then they unfurled right before they made contact, and those unrolled things looked like worms with a lot of legs. But it¡¯s weird that they launched three of them, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ no?¡± I motion at Pearl, myself, and then Clutter. ¡°Three of us, three attacks. And from the way they¡¯re really slowly eating away at my shield, they¡¯re probably meant to suck out magic somehow. Like plastic leeches.¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°Technically, it shouldn¡¯t even register that I¡¯m here. And if it reacted to magic, then¡­um¡­ fired is the right word for it, I guess. Fired a leech at each of us, then it should¡¯ve attacked when you used the purification. Not before.¡±

    ¡°But it happened when you opened your Class Card.¡± Clutter points out. ¡°Maybe they aren¡¯t sensing magic, but our Class Cards?¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s true, then maybe the reason I didn¡¯t instantly open it is because my awareness was subconsciously detecting that.¡± I raise my Class Card, which is still open, and swipe over to my map. Shortly after, three more leeches splatter against my shield. ¡°You¡¯re right, Clutter. It is my Class Card that¡¯s triggering it. But why?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°Quests are weird. This is either its way of telling you not to use your Class Card here, or warning you that using it can have much worse consequences later on. I think it¡¯s the second one, because it¡¯d just make your Class Card all grey if it actually didn¡¯t want you using it.¡±

    Or¡­ it¡¯s showing us that the plastic can react to our Class Cards. For better or worse. I look down to take a quick peek at my map, and sure enough, we¡¯re just outside of our tower¡¯s range. We must¡¯ve been running faster than I thought to cover this much ground so fast. Illumisia would be proud, then immediately set me a new, harder goal.

    I send my Class Card away. Even that triggers a splattering of leeches¨Cbut only two this time. ¡°Pearl, can you feel the end of the line yet?¡±

    Much to my surprise, she nods. ¡°It stops about ninety percent of my awareness¡¯ range up ahead. Without going down or up any more floors.¡±

    ¡°Then what are we waiting for? Let¡¯s get moving!¡± Clutter grins eagerly, but his glances at the plastic-y leeches can¡¯t be missed. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­ kind of want to keep moving. Is that okay?¡±

 Chapter 191: End Of The Line

    Clutter shifts from foot to foot with nervous energy. He¡¯s not shivering yet, so he isn¡¯t terrified out of his mind, but the leeches gave him more of a scare than he¡¯s letting on. Probably because it reminds him of the graveyard¨Cand the tree that loves his people a little too much. Considering how close we are anyway, I don¡¯t see a reason why we can¡¯t get moving.

    I¨Cwait, there it is. No indecision from that decision. It¡¯s definitely the magic in the air steering us away from using our Class Cards. I have to keep my mind peeled for more of those¡­ steering sensations. Just in case they¡¯re hints instead of warnings next time.

    With a snap of my fingers, I dispel everything that¡¯s left. ¡°Remember¨Cno taking out your Class Card, and definitely no opening it. And if you really have to, just tell me first and I¡¯ll put up a shield.¡±

    He puts his whole back into a vigorous nod. ¡°Unless the quest goes forward, I won¡¯t even think about taking out the thing I¡¯m not thinking of. Want to run? Or is it a good idea to slow down a little?¡±

    That last question isn¡¯t directed at me¨Che looks at Pearl as he asks it. She hems and haws for a few seconds while staring daggers down the hallway, then slowly crosses her arms.

    ¡°Whatever launched those leeches wasn¡¯t in my awareness range¨Cthey just appeared somewhere in the middle of it.¡± She eventually says. ¡°I don¡¯t know if there¡¯s a specific place they appear from, or if they always pop into existence at the same distance from you.¡±

    Clutter blinks. ¡°Um¡­ so¡­ is that a ¡®no¡¯ to the running?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°Just be careful. Like the old saying goes; if there¡¯s one magic summoning trap that shoots plastic leeches, there¡¯s bound to be others that do other things.¡±

    ¡°Is that a real saying?¡± Clutter asks seriously.

    I gently nudge Pearl¡¯s shoulders with two fingers. ¡°You know shellraisers; always with the completely random and archaic sayings that somehow perfectly fit the situation.¡±

    His eyes widen as his eyebrows shoot to his forehead. ¡°Was she always saying stuff like this when she was in her shell? And I just couldn''t hear it?¡±

    Pearl barely holds back a laugh that comes out as a snort. I sigh and shake my head; Clutter¡¯s definitely a little too gullible when people say things with confidence.

    ¡°No, she¡¯s just messing with you, Clutter. So am I.¡± I pat him on the shoulder as I step over the splattered leeches. ¡°Want to try identifying them? I can throw up another shield.¡±

    He shakes his head, then turns and starts to jog past me. I match his speed almost instantly, and after a few seconds of accelerating, we¡¯re running at a blistering pace once again. A little voice in the back of my mind tells me to identify the plastic things, but we already know the hint this is trying to give; the plastic can be alive. Something I learned all too well from the graveyard and the two-legged monster mimic.

    Wisps of grey magic appear in the air as we run further into the tunnel, like little plumes of smoke drifting lazily on the world¡¯s smallest updraft. I look around for the source of them, and for a second, it looks like they¡¯re appearing out of nowhere. But upon closer inspection, it turns out they¡¯re sneaking through the grout-like material that separates the tiles. A few more seconds brings us further in, where the smoke gathers right up on the ceiling.

    Clutter doesn¡¯t even seem to notice. It¡¯s¡­ weird, actually seeing magic like this, not just ¡®feeling¡¯ it. Gives off a sensation that everyone else should be able to see this thing acting like real smoke, not only me and Pearl. I wonder if there¡¯s a spell or skill that¡¯d let Clutter see things like I do¨Cwithout having Pearl squish into his brain, of course.

    A squishy hand smacks against my cheek to draw my attention. I turn to Pearl, who points at a section of the wall off in the distance. Maybe another ten or so seconds away. She locks eyes with me, and I give her a little nod to let her know I got it.

    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± I say and slow to a jog. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it, but this is the place.¡±

    As Clutter skids to a stop, arms flailing to keep himself balanced, I take a good look at the wall that sure looks like the other walls. Except for the gouge exactly where Pearl pointed out, rectangular and perfectly even depth and width wise. I guess that¡¯s how someone without a shellraiser with a strong awareness would find the end¨Cbecause the line doesn''t stop here. It keeps going into the distance.

    ¡°Is there anything else further down?¡± I ask as I press a projectile up against the gouge. ¡°Or is it a red herring?¡±

    ¡°As far as I can tell, it¡¯s nothing. Just a light.¡± Pearl leans in and gestures at the grey magic. ¡°I bet that¡¯s what this was actually designed to be; lights for the people in here. Even though it was already perfectly bright in here without any lights at all, which is definitely weird.¡±

    ¡°Just like the houses the system made!¡± Clutter chimes in from thirty feet down the hall.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Just like the houses. Maybe the system used this place as a template for them. You want to take a few more steps back?¡±

    Clutter thinks for a second, then takes a handful of huge steps back and covers his face with his arms. ¡°I¡¯m ready!¡±

    I¡¯d meant that to be sarcastic, but whatever. With a thought I jump back and trigger my projectile¨Ca little less violent than last time¨Cand watch carefully. The coin bursts into salt and magic, whirling like a very angry dust devil to shear away the wall¡¯s material little by little. It¡¯s nowhere near as sudden and destructive as the blink-and-you¡¯ll-miss-it monstrosity I summoned last time, but it looks like it¡¯s getting the job done anyway.

    ¡°So the walls with the gouges on them are actually a lot weaker than the regular walls.¡± Pearl notes thoughtfully. ¡°I wonder if there¡¯s a real explanation for that, or if it¡¯s just for the quest¡¯s sake.¡±

    ¡°Hm. good question. Also makes me wonder if these hexagons were put here by the system, or if the city itself always had them buried in their walls.¡±

    Clutter lowers his arms and takes a tentative step forward. ¡°Why would they be there in the first place?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Maybe they¡¯re access panels. For¡­ maintenance, or to control something in here that we¡¯re not seeing yet. Hey, did the quest even mention who used to live here? Because it damn sure wasn¡¯t the shellraisers.¡±

    Pearl scoffs at the mere idea of her people living here. ¡°Our cities were much nicer than this.¡±

    ¡°I know. That¡¯s why I said it couldn¡¯t be you. Oh, look, it¡¯s done.¡± I flick my wrist, and my projectile dies out. Revealing a hexagonal stone plate that looks exactly like the first. ¡°Clutter, you want to do the honours this time?¡±

    He eagerly nods. ¡°I do. But¡­ um¡­ how do you know what shellraiser cities look like?¡±

    ¡°I saw one for a few seconds. Definitely didn''t look like¡­¡± I trail off as I gesture at everything around us, ¡°This.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ saw¡­ one. Okay. I guess I can believe that.¡± He says as he slowly walks up to the hexagonal plate. ¡°I guess I have to believe it. I don¡¯t really have a choice.¡±

    The plate flickers as he places his hand on it, grey magic outlining his fingers just as quickly as it had mine. He oohs at the sight of it, pulls away, and watches with rapt attention as the grey drips down to¨Cand then outlines¨Cthe perimeter of the hexagon. We both stare at it for a few seconds as the magic does its thing, and then¡­ then¡­

    Well, nothing. No new line appears, the old one doesn¡¯t go out, and I can¡¯t feel anything around us shifting. But both plates are activated. Something has to happen, even if it¡¯s something as small as another light turning on.

    ¡°Pearl, can you feel anything different? ¡­Pearl?¡±

    She has her finger pressed tightly against her chin in thought, staring intently at the plate. Clutter looks at her, then shoots me a half-worried, half-excited, half-confused glance. Not all at once, but constantly shifting between the three options at a steady pace. I shrug back, which doesn¡¯t do anything for any of his emotions, but it¡¯s all I have right now. Pearl¡¯s the one thinking, not me.

    Her head snaps all the way around to stare at the other wall. I flinch at the horrible visual, then remind myself that her body is entirely goo¨Cshe doesn¡¯t have bones to snap or ligaments to tear. Even if the visual is just¡­ yergh.

    ¡°The magic is slowly leaking through the floor towards there.¡± She points directly across from us. ¡°I think something¡¯s going to open soon, but not right away. The quest is doing this really slowly for some reason.¡±

    ¡°Probably to make us think nothing happened. Just like how the constructs didn¡¯t appear for a while at the tower.¡± Clutter suggests. ¡°Does it seem like it¡¯s going to be dangerous? Should I go innvisible?¡±

    Pearl slowly shakes her head as I turn around, her head mostly stationary until she¡¯s in the right orientation again. ¡°I don¡¯t think so, but I could easily be wrong. The plastic leeches appeared out of nowhere, after all, so even an empty room isn¡¯t safe with this magic around.¡±

    Clutter nods and turns invisible. ¡°I won¡¯t slow you two down.¡±

    Slowly but surely, the magic from the hexagon makes its way down the wall and into the floor. A single line of grey magic that moves about as fast as a suburban dad after a huge thanksgiving meal, tracing through the grout in a winding path for seemingly no reason. It makes a left before one tile, then three rights around another to bisect its own path and go up around another tile right after it.

    After the third tile, I can¡¯t convince myself that there¡¯s no reason for this. ¡°Pearl, can you note down the exact path the magic is taking? It feels like it might be important later.¡±

    ¡°Already ahead of you.¡± She says as she traces her finger along her palm. ¡°I¡¯ll copy it down when I¡¯m back in my shell.¡±

    I give her a nod of thanks, then go right back to watching the sluggish trail of magic. If I hadn¡¯t taken a nap before this, I definitely would¡¯ve dropped like a sack of bricks and taken a good fifteen minute power nap while this pointlessly slow schtick drags on. Hell, this is where I¡¯d pull out my Class Card to see if anything showed up. Hey, maybe that¡¯s the point of the wait. Or maybe I¡¯m just desperate to think the quest isn¡¯t just making us wait for absolutely no reason.

    Ten minutes later, the line finally hits the halfway mark. Clutter sighs in boredom from his spot sat up against the wall, his hands playing idly with the black wrappings he apparently decided to keep in his pockets¨Cnot his inventory. His invisibility faded five minutes ago without a single sign of a threat. He catches my glance and returns a pleading pout, but there¡¯s absolutely nothing I can do to make this go faster.

    ¡°Shelby!¡±

    Pearl¡¯s energetic voice rips my boredom away, and wasps of adrenaline filter in to replace it. ¡°What? Enemies Oh, god, please don¡¯t tell me the line stopped moving.¡±

    She shakes her head and points at the floor. ¡°Nope! Take a look for yourself!¡±

    I blink, then shift my focus to the floor. The grey line zips through the last half of the tiles like a slug that drank far too many energy drinks, and before I can even get a word out, smacks into the other wall with an audible creak. Clutter hops up eagerly to stand at my side as a circular door etches itself into the wall without so much as a touch from any of us.

    Whatever it is, we¡¯re here.

 Chapter 192: A Sign of Life

    ¡°You first.¡±

    I turn to Clutter as the words finish leaving his mouth. ¡°You can go invisible to scout it out. Are you sure you don¡¯t want to go first?¡±

    He nods seriously. ¡°I¡¯ll be right behind you, but you have the shields. Just¡­ um¡­ just in case, you know?¡±

    ¡°Sure. If you¡¯re going to stay close, stay close enough that one shield can protect all of us.¡± I flip a coin into my palm and start walking towards the doorway. ¡°Keep an eye open for anything strange. Even if it¡¯s just a scratch on the floor or a slightly misaligned tile¨Canything could technically be a clue here.¡±

    ¡°I can do that.¡± He says as he turns transparent. Then he clams up completely, stiffens his back, and walks as lightly as possible just a few inches behind me. He¡¯s really taking the possibility of a threat seriously. Not that I¡¯m not worried, it¡¯s just that¡­ it feels like we¡¯re not at the point where the quest¡¯s trying to kill us yet.

    The plastic leeches felt like a warning. Maybe they¡¯d just work like a localized purification¨Cshutting off our Class Cards and draining whatever spell they could¡¯ve gotten their mouths on. That¡¯d be one hell of a warning, and it¡¯d get the point across right away. But it definitely wasn¡¯t meant to do anything other than inconvenience us. If this was a quest just for me, I¡¯d think I was being lulled into a false sense of security.

    But it isn¡¯t. This is a quest that was available to everyone¨Cwithout any apparent clearance requirement. I have no doubt that it¡¯ll ramp up eventually, but that¡¯s just it; it¡¯ll naturally ramp up. Not jump to an absurd level just because the system wants to kill me.

    So as I put a hand on the edge of the doorway, grey magic pooling in the perfectly lit room it leads into, only the normal amount of anticipation worms its way down my spine. And excitement actually has the freedom to tug at my lips for once. Before I go in unaware, though, I stretch my awareness to its limits to get a preview of what we¡¯re walking into.

    More tiles decorate the floor, just like the ones in the hall, but it isn¡¯t¡­ perfect. The room¡¯s a half-circle placed up against the hall, and from what I can see, it¡¯s about as wide as the hall itself¨Cwhich means some tiles are cut to fit the curved wall. But the cut ones don''t fit flush with the wall¨Cthey¡¯re dinged up along the edges, with chunks filled in by grout, almost like someone didn¡¯t know how to cut them and just compensated after they already messed up.

    I slowly take a step in to see the place with my own two eyes when I don¡¯t sense anything dangerous. The curved wall itself is perfectly bare¨Cno markings, scratches, or anything of the like. Same with the ceiling¨Cperfect and untouched. And¡­ that¡¯s it. Aside from the magic that collects near the center of the room instead of on the ceiling, there¡¯s barely anything interesting about this room.

    ¡°Is it safe?¡± Clutter whispers worriedly. ¡°There¡¯s a big cloud of¡­ something¡­ right in the middle. Should we run?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°You can see the magic?¡±

    Clutter tilts his head. ¡°That stuff¡¯s magic?¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°We¡¯ve been seeing it since Shelby took out her Class Card. But this stuff isn¡¯t any more concentrated than the rest of it¡­ which means¡­¡±

    ¡°The quest wants you to see this.¡± I finish as I step into the room and beeline for the magic. ¡°An otherwise empty room with a bunch of magic at the center. It¡¯s either the most obvious trap I¡¯ve ever seen or an obvious reward for connecting the two plates together.¡±

    ¡°I hope it¡¯s a reward.¡± Clutter murmurs, still from right behind me.

    So do I, buddy. And it seems like that¡¯s the case, since the closer I get to the smoky cloud of magic, the more I¡¯m sure it isn¡¯t dangerous. Nothing shoots out to attack me, my awareness isn¡¯t sending off any warning bells, and there isn¡¯t a single sign of plastic life to be seen. Question is, how are we supposed to turn this¡­ smoky mass¡­ into something useful?

    I take a deep inhale as I step right up to it. The magic doesn¡¯t respond to it at all, so it definitely isn¡¯t enhanced smoke. Doesn¡¯t feel like it¡¯s hiding anything inside, either, so that option¡¯s out. We¡­ also didn¡¯t bring the catalyst along, which in hindsight, could¡¯ve been a mistake. One that¡¯ll only cost me a few Worth to remedy, but a mistake nonetheless.

    ¡°Pearl?¡± I roll my shoulder to get her attention. ¡°Any insight here?¡±

    She shakes her head, then pauses. After a short second, she nods instead. ¡°Actually, yes. This grey magic isn¡¯t the same stuff that was in the catalyst¨Cunless the makeup of the magic changes drastically when it condenses. It feels like¡­ um¡­ honestly, I don¡¯t know. But I¡¯d bet my favorite schematic that some plastic is going to be involved somehow.¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Aw.¡± Clutter whines. ¡°I was hoping for an easy reward.¡±

    I snort in amusement. ¡°This is an easy reward. Here¨Ctake this just in case, and if I start freaking out, crush it under your foot.¡±

    I hand him a purification coin, which he takes with a solemn nod. One that''s a little too serious for the moment, but the intent is appreciated. Then I reach up and pat Pearl¡¯s shell.

    ¡°Might want to go back inside for a minute.¡±

    She gets to her feet with a nod. ¡°Good idea¨Cno point having three targets instead of two. See you in a minute, Clutter.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡± He confirms, though his entire focus is split evenly between the coin in his hand¨Cand on my expression. ¡°Have a nice trip.¡±

    Pearl raises an eyebrow as he squeezes back into her shell. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I should praise his focus or point out his tunnel vision. Just let me sit down, and¡­ okay, I¡¯m ready. Go for it.¡±

    I take a steadying breath, raise my hand, and slowly waft it through the cloud. The magic barely reacts to my hand, though a sort of¡­ spark follows me on a second or so delay. That spark definitely has an effect on the magic¨Cclumps of the stuff grow dark as the night sky, while others puff up and turn as bright white as freshly bleached clothes. Neither of the options feel dangerous, per se, but they definitely feel activated. Whatever¡¯s going to happen is going to happen very soon.

    ¡°Are you still here?¡± Clutter whispers. ¡°Should I use the coin?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m still fine.¡± I reply and remove my hand from the cloud, then instinctively take a step back, pushing Clutter with me. ¡°Pay careful attention. We don''t know how long this¡¯ll last.¡±

    He nods and takes one more step back. I focus on my awareness to try and feel whatever the chaotic cloud of visible magic is getting ready to spit out, but aside from the sensation of magic in general, it really doesn¡¯t seem like anything¡¯s going to change.

    Crunch.

    A lump of something hits the ground. But the magic didn¡¯t spit it out or turn into it¨Cthe thing just appeared from nowhere. Just like the leeches. I hold an arm out to stop Clutter from getting any closer, but it¡¯s completely unnecessary¨Che¡¯s perfectly happy to watch from a distance.

    ¡°It¡¯s formless.¡± Pearl mutters to herself. ¡°Just a lump of magic and plastic inside of more magic. What¡¯s the quest getting at? Does it want you to make an art project?¡±

    I frown at the thought, but a shudder that rolls along the surface of the plastic drags me back to the possible threat at hand. It starts like a series of ripples from a stone skipping across a lake, forcing a little bit of the plastic to displace along with the movement. But as the ripples reach their furthest reach, they don''t just disappear into nothing¨Cthey stay there. A ring of displacement embossed on the surface of the plastic.

    More and more ripples appear on the mound until there isn¡¯t a single inch of it that¡¯s gone undisturbed. It goes deathly still¨Csitting there like a gravestone. With a ringing snap, all the ripples forcefully condense on themselves¨Csqueezing the plastic under them until the visible rings snap together at random points on the mound. Points that, when put together with the almost spaghettified mound of plastic¡­ almost look like joints.

    Pearl grimaces and looks away. ¡°I don¡¯t like where this is going.¡±

    I can¡¯t say I do, either, just from the unnerving spectacle of the plastic¡¯s formation. A mass of strands coils together at the bottom of the thing like all the collected stems from a bouquet of flowers held together with a choking elastic band. Snaps and crunches echo out as that bouquet breaks off into four, then spreads violently to pull the mound into a more rectangular shape.

    Like straw being spun into a doll, the remaining strands weave together to form something like a body for the mound. My initial instinct is that the thing is turning into a plastic painted dane, but that can¡¯t be right. If this is where the painted danes used to live¡­ well¡­ they weren¡¯t really smart enough to make all this. Unless¡­ no. It wouldn¡¯t make sense.

    But as the strands of plastic twist around themselves, the back ¡®legs¡¯ of the thing grow more muscular. The front legs shrink ever so slightly, and the ends of them form into something closer to hands than feet. Even the back elongates, at first into a tail that looks like the painted danes I killed so long ago¨Cand then into one that I have an example of standing right behind me.

    Finally, the body twists into a much more humanoid version of the painted dane¡¯s that it once was. The head shifts only slightly, and a plastic-y version of a generic paindne face stares at me through the magic. I swallow hard, mind racing to try and understand what the hell I just saw. And then the thing opens its mouth¨Ca simple split like a clay brick sliced in two¨Cand a voice cracks free.

    A cold wind blows in from nowhere, and the cloud of magic simply flutters away. Leaving nothing behind but a plastic facsimile of a paindne that I¡¯ve never seen before. Clutter gasps in shock. Pearl sets her jaw in an expression that I can¡¯t read, but from how tightly she¡¯s clenching her fists, I can tell she has very strong opinions on what we just saw.

    ¡°Thank you-you-you-you-you for visiting the¡­ Yunrov¡­ district. I a-a-a-am an information construct here for your convenience.¡± Some of the plastic paindne¡¯s words repeat like it¡¯s getting stuck in a short loop, and its voice itself sounds¡­ pained. ¡°Unfor-for-fortunately, our services have been placed offline following (ERROR: CAUSE UNKNOWN). If you ha-ha-have questions following your (ERROR: CENSORED BY QUEST), I will answer them-them to the best of my diminished ab-ab-abilities.¡±

 Chapter 193: Error-Ridden Plastic

    Clutter makes a noise deep in his throat and takes a step forward. It¡¯s a vicious combination of a growl and a grumble, and it¡¯s the most dangerous noise I¡¯ve ever heard him make. I hold out an arm to stop him from walking forward, and he shoots me the most venomous glance that¡¯s come out of his eyes. ¡®Course I¡¯ve seen way worse, so it comes off more like a¡­ frustrated friend.

    ¡°Words first, Clutter.¡± I say sternly. ¡°Pearl, can you tell if this thing is on a time limit?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°None that I can see. Don¡¯t leave the room and it should stay for as long as you want.¡±

    I nod to myself. ¡°Good to know. So, Clutter¨Cyour turn.¡±

    He bears his teeth in a frown not directed at me. ¡°It¡¯s mocking me. We¡¯re¡­ this¡­ it¡¯s a paindne, just like me. The quest is saying I¡¯m just a¡­ servant.¡±

    ¡°You sure about that?¡± I slowly lower my arm as I gesture at the plastic construct. ¡°Seems more to me like this is your ancestral home, and that your people were advanced enough to make constructs.¡±

    ¡°Ancestral home?! Our ancestral home isn¡¯t¡­ this!¡± Clutter grimaces and gestures broadly at everything around us. ¡°And we definitely didn¡¯t make a bunch of stupid endless tunnels for no reason!¡±

    ¡°Well, why don¡¯t we just ask it, then?¡± I turn to the construct and snap my fingers. ¡°Construct, what¡¯s this city called?¡±

    The plastic twitches, and its eyes flash brighter grey for a second. Then it falls still, twists to the side, and holds up a flat hand as if it was holding a drink tray at a bar. Holographic grey light flickers to life above its palm, but whatever¡¯s supposed to be there is just a mass of static and noise.

    ¡°We are in the Yunrov district of Moonwake, the greatest city of (ERROR: DATA MISSING).¡±

    Clutter grumbles and crosses his arms. ¡°Moonwake. I¡¯ve never heard of Moonwake.¡±

    ¡°Of course you haven¡¯t. The quest specifically called it a forgotten city.¡± I point out, which just gets a huff from him. He really hates this plastic thing for some reason. ¡°Pearl, does the name bring up any memories?¡±

    ¡°Nothing from me, sorry. Which means it¡¯s probably after my time, since the paindne were already uplifted by the system by this point. Oh, huh. That means whatever happened to the city happened after I got locked up. That¡¯s so weird to think about.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ true. We actually have a specific date that this couldn¡¯t have happened before¨Cwhenever the system uplifted a bunch of painted danes into paindne. Maybe Illumisia could shed more light on this, but we still haven¡¯t given her enough time. She¡¯ll need three-ish hours, so we need another¡­ day-ish before I can bring her here. Which is really too bad¨Cshe¡¯d probably hate this thing just as much as Clutter does. Speaking of¡­

    I tap Clutter¡¯s bicep with the back of my hand. ¡°You¡¯ve obviously got questions. Ask ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°Mrgh. I¡­ okay.¡± He grumbles petulantly, then takes a deep breath. ¡°Were the people who built you paindne?¡±

    The construct twists back to its resting position, then dips its head. ¡°Yes.¡±

    Clutter visibly tenses. ¡°How long ago were you made? And how old is the city?¡±

    ¡°I cannot say. Time was not track-ack-acked while I was inactive, and the (UNKNOWN EVENT) has rendered the keeping of ch-ch-ch-chronological time ineffectual.¡± The construct spreads its hands, and another screen of staticky nothing appears between them. ¡°It would appear that the stored timeline is damaged as well. Though I can provide information, I cannot say what order-der the events occurred in.¡±

    ¡°What¡­¡± Clutter turns to me. ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡±

    I step closer to the construct and lean in. ¡°I think that¡¯s the quest¡¯s way of telling us that we won¡¯t get much information from this thing. Since it¡¯s got a bunch of errors and whatever it¡¯s trying to show us isn¡¯t actually showing up.¡±

    ¡°Oh. That¡¯s annoying. Fake paindne¡­ why are you made of plastic?¡±

    The construct twitches. ¡°I am a being of light and magic. Whatever this plastic is, I am not made of it.¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m¡­ pretty sure you are.¡± Clutter looks the construct up and down. ¡°Can¡¯t you tell?¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°I am a being of light and magic. Whatever this pl-pl-plastic is, I am not made of it.¡± The construct repeats word for word, save for the glitchy speech.

    Clutter¡¯s face twists from annoyance to confusion. ¡°Um¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say now. Is the plastic just for the quest, or was it actually here in the first place?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. At all. But¡­ we¡¯re sure this thing is made of plastic, right? Not light and magic pretending to be plastic?¡±

    ¡°One-hundred percent sure.¡± Pearl confirms. ¡°It¡¯s exactly the same stuff as the plastic from before. Maybe try touching your jewelry to it?¡±

    I reach up and fiddle with my armlet. ¡°Not sure that¡¯s a good idea. This could be a trap.¡±

    ¡°Trap? For what?¡± Clutter asks seriously. ¡°Did she say something that I need to hear?¡±

    ¡°Not yet; just an idea I don¡¯t like. First we should try to get as much information from this thing as possible, and then we¡¯ll try some more dangerous things.¡± I clear my throat as I lock eyes with the plastic paindne. ¡°You said you¡¯re here to help with something that gives an error. Do you know you¡¯re part of a quest now?¡±

    ¡°That information is cl-classified.¡±

    Not an error, but ¡®classified¡¯. That¡¯s about as close to a confirmation of this thing being aware of a quest as I¡¯m going to get. And if it''s aware of its own place in this quest, there¡¯s definitely a bunch of other stuff that it can¡¯t say. Hell, all those errors could be complete bullshit so this thing doesn''t spill secrets the quest doesn¡¯t want revealed until later.

    ¡°Can I go now?¡± Clutter asks. I motion for him to go ahead, to which he nods. ¡°Why are you in this specific room? And why was it so hard to find?¡±

    ¡°This room is one of many private alcoves. The locking mechanism was designed to be-be-be accessed as a part of (ERROR: CENSORED BY QUEST).¡± The construct pauses as a shudder turns its speech into a jumbled mess of noises. ¡°I was placed here specifically for those reasons.¡±

    I didn¡¯t hear any reasons. ¡°Okay. What¡¯s your purpose for the quest in particular?¡±

    The construct spasms. ¡°I am here to provide a cryptic hint into the past of this great city. In addition, I am to provi-i-ide a small reward to anyone who finds this place¨Cand a slightly larger reward to the first group to do so. You-you-you are said first group. Would you like the reward at this mo-moment? WARNING¨Cobtaining the reward will deactivate this unit.¡±

    Clutter starts to open his mouth. I hold up a hand to stop him from accepting the reward right this instant.

    ¡°Not yet. We can still get more out of this thing.¡±

    He frowns. ¡°What else can we get? It said that it¡¯s just here to give cryptic hints¨Cwhich it definitely already did. Apparently something bad happened to it that was enough to give it errors, paindne used to live here, and it wasn¡¯t originally made of plastic. What else do we need to know?¡±

    Wow. He¡¯s more determined to get rid of this thing than I thought. But there¡¯s two more things I really want to ask before we send this thing back to where it came from.

    ¡°Alright, a few more questions, and then we¡¯ll take the reward. But just a few.¡± I assure Clutter, who huffs in acceptance. ¡°First; do you know where we can get more of the liquid grey magic?¡±

    ¡°It will be obvious when you find it, but until then, do not bother look-look-looking for it.¡± The construct says cryptically. ¡°When the circumstances are right, it will be-be there.¡±

    I sigh and frown at the thing; it¡¯s really not being helpful right now. ¡°Sure, whatever. Two; if we manage to refill the catalyst, will putting it back in the tower actually do anything?¡±

    The construct nods. ¡°Y-y-es.¡±

    After a few seconds of silence, it becomes obvious that¡¯s all the construct¡¯s going to say. My frown deepens as Clutter shoots me a ¡®can we just be done with this¡¯ look. I¡¯m definitely closer to agreeing with him than I was a few seconds ago, but I¡¯m not quite done yet.

    ¡°Some actually helpful info would be nice.¡± I mutter to myself. ¡°Three and four; why is this place so empty, and what happened to everyone here?¡±

    ¡°(ERROR: CAUSE UNKNOWN).¡±

    Alright, we¡¯re done here. ¡°Pearl? Have any questions before we say goodbye to this thing?¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°This thing isn¡¯t meant to actually give out information. If you two are done with it, I don¡¯t have anything else that I can think of right now.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re done.¡± I motion at the construct. ¡°Give us the reward now, please.¡±

    It nods. ¡°Tha-thank you for your time. I hope I was able to hel-help ease some of your burdens during this difficult time.¡±

    With a puff of grey magic, the plastic paindne dissolves into a mass of squirming plastic. We all watch as the strands disperse to the corners of the room, and when they hit the walls, they just¡­ disappear. I shoot Clutter a quizzical glance that he returns, then we just stand here and wait for anything to happen. Everything here seems to be on a weird delay, so whatever the reward is, it probably won¡¯t show up for a minute.

    ¡°I hated that.¡± Clutter mutters. ¡°We aren¡¯t plastic people. We¡¯re paindne¨Cnot something fake like that.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow and almost point out that they¡¯re a system-uplifted species. But I guess since that happened so long ago, nobody would even bat an eye at considering them a real species. Well, Illumisia definitely would, but she¡¯s not here to argue that right now. So I just let Clutter keep quietly ranting to himself and watch the walls.

    A flicker of magic twists at the edge of my vision. I turn to the source as a series of four deep gouges dig deep into the wall¨Cuneven, ragged, and dripping with magic. Unease seeps up into my stomach, and a low growl seems to close in from everywhere.

    Reward Granted: A Chance to Prove Yourselves.

 Chapter 194: The Gouging Stain

    ¡°MOVE!¡±

    I turn and shove Clutter out of the room. Thousands of gouges appear on the walls, floor, and ceiling not a moment after my feet leave the threshold¨Cbut not the rest of me. Pain blossoms down my back mixed with immediate sticky wetness, continuing down the backs of my thighs and just up to the bottom of my neck. A cry of pain rips free from my chest, but my eyes are focused with a surge of adrenaline.

    Clutter looks like he¡¯s about to hyperventillate and pass out. ¡°What¡¯s happening?! Why¡¯s the room attacking us?!¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t.¡± I clench my teeth as I run with all my might down the hallway. ¡°Something in the room is.¡±

    Horrible screeching, like a thousand nails on a thousand chalkboards, accompanies a stain in my awareness leaving the room. Not magic¨Cand not anything real¨Cjust a¡­ colourless, formless splotch overlaid on top of everything else like a translucent sticker. I swallow hard as the thing lurches towards us, leaving masses of scratches along the almost impervious material of the hallway.

    Somehow, it doesn¡¯t just keep pace with us. The scratches grow closer by the second. Our only saving grace is that it took a few seconds to actually get out of the room, or else it¡¯d already be on top of us.

    ¡°Pearl!¡±

    She clenches her fists as she stares at the stain. ¡°I¡¯m trying! But I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to be trying for!¡±

    I clench my teeth and push my legs as hard as they can go. Clutter yelps as I surge past him, then leans down and pushes past his limit with a terrified howl. He just barely keeps my pace, and even though he¡¯s panting so hard his throat will be raw in minutes, it seems like he¡¯ll be able to keep it up.

    ¡°Can you attack it?!¡± He huffs through the exertion. ¡°It has to actually exist, right? And if it doesn¡¯t, then you should be able to purify it!¡±

    My awareness screams at me that it won¡¯t work. But it¡¯s worth wasting a few coins just to make sure. I summon one of each of my combat spells¨Cpurification, shield, and projectile¨Cand slip them between my fingers without slowing down at all. Since it¡¯d be the best if it actually worked, I drop the projectile at my feet and push the shortest lasting, strongest projectile I can manage into it.

    Clutter steps over it half a second later. I bite my tongue to focus, and the taste of iron spreads through my mouth in an instant. One second passes. Then two. The stain grows ever closer with each passing heartbeat. Three seconds. Four. Then five, six, seven and eight. On second nine, the stain finally passes over my projectile. My awareness screams as something rips into it, tearing at the coin¡¯s surface as easily as a chainsaw through whipped cream.

    But it doesn¡¯t destroy the coin like Ashmaw did. The spell inside bursts free as its host is sliced to ribbons, and for a moment, destruction exists inside of the stain. Or, more accurately, the destruction is covered by the stain. It does as much damage to it as a bomb to a shadow, and the stain doesn''t even react. No anger, no pain, and no speed up or slow down.

    ¡°Damn it.¡± I hiss as the projectile winks out. ¡°That was a damn five Worth projectile and it did jack shit.¡±

    ¡°It didn¡¯t do anything?!¡± Clutter wails. ¡°Teleport us out! We don¡¯t have to fight this thing! I don¡¯t want to die!¡±

    Pearl vigorously shakes her head. ¡°Whatever you do, do not do that. We have no idea if this thing is going to keep chasing you until some objective is met, and if it is, teleporting back to the tower would just delay the inevitable. We need to find out how you¡¯re supposed to ¡®prove yourself¡¯ like the quest said.¡±

    ¡°And how are we supposed to do that?¡± I ask seriously. ¡°Are the side objectives not scaled to clearance level? Because this feels infinitely deadlier than anything we¡¯ve seen so far!¡±

    Clutter gulps. ¡°How do we do what?¡±

    ¡°We¡­ actually, wait a second.¡± Pearl grunts, then pops her head out of her shell. ¡°Think, you two. If this little side-thing isn¡¯t completely stupid, then something we did to actually get here should tell us how to deal with it.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense!¡± Clutter cries. ¡°I can barely think right now, though, sorry! My brain¡¯s way too scared!¡±

    I shake my head. My brain¡¯s not thinking as clearly as I want it to, either; it¡¯s like there¡¯s a veil of adrenaline that every thought has to push through to actually be¡­ well¡­ thought. It¡¯s definitely my brain protecting me from the shock of all the wounds on my back, but it¡¯s making it really hard to look at this normally.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Okay. Damn. I¡­¡± I swallow hard and close my eyes to focus. ¡°I got this. The first thing we saw from this subquest is¡­ the gouge on the wall. Then we broke through the wall, activated a plate, and followed the line it made until we found another scratch. After that¡­ we did the same thing again, and followed a really slow line into another room. Am I forgetting something?¡±

    Pearl frowns. ¡°I feel like you are. Was there anything important that the plastic construct told us?¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Clutter cuts in. ¡°Nothing that helps at all. The quest censored pretty much everything.¡±

    True. I can¡¯t remember much of anything that¡¯d be applicable here, unless the ¡®event¡¯ the construct alluded to is related to the stain. Even if it is, that doesn¡¯t give us any help with this thing. What¡­ mrg, I feel like I¡¯m forgetting something important. Scratch. Plate. Follow the line. Another scratch. Another plate. Then¡­ another slow line.

    ¡°That¡¯s gotta be it.¡± I grin and try to turn to Pearl, but since she¡¯s half in her shell, she just turns with me. ¡°You copied down the path the line took to get to the other door. There has to be somewhere we can use that pattern.¡±

    ¡°In a hallway that¡¯s only ever been straight?¡± Pearl asks. ¡°If we find something like¡­ a sign, or a fork in the hallway, then I¡¯m all for giving it a shot. But I don¡¯t see anything like that, and my awareness isn¡¯t showing anything more.¡±

    ¡°Okay, well¡­ what if¡­ the directions on there are telling us to go up or down? Like, if we flip it ninety degrees, then what would the path look like?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°No. We don¡¯t have time to wait for the doors to form, and we don¡¯t know if the stain can just go through the floors. It has to be a solution that¡¯s feasible with the cards the quest dealt us, and with abilities that are feasible for pretty much any class to have.¡±

    My awareness flickers. Something in the stain lurches sideways, and for a split second, the thing crawls up the wall for seemingly no reason. Scratches etch into the wall effortlessly, and then it just slides back down to the floor a second later for equally no reason. There¡¯s no protrusions, no signs, no nothing that could¡¯ve forced it to move. But it did. So¡­ why?

    Before I can get too introspective, the thing twitches, stretches, and grows a good twelve inches in all directions that pop into existence in a flurry of gouges. It only eats up our lead by a fraction of a second, but now it can almost touch both walls from where it sits on the center of the floor. In minutes, combined with how it¡¯s still accelerating, we¡¯ll be absolutely trapped.

    ¡°Did it sliding up the wall make it grow? How the hell is that possible?¡± I ask in disbelief.

    ¡°I couldn''t tell you.¡± Pearl responds with a frown. ¡°Logic would say it took in enough mass to grow, but it¡¯s been gouging out material for a while now. It should¡¯ve grown a whole lot, not just after it climbed up the wall.¡±

    Clutter coughs. It¡¯s dry, but he doesn¡¯t stumble at all. Not sure how long that¡¯s going to last.

    ¡°Then I don¡¯t have a damn clue.¡± I say as I flick purification at the stain. It only takes six seconds for the thing to hit it, and when it bursts, the thing doesn''t even flinch. ¡°And that doesn¡¯t work either. Damn it, what the hell are we supposed to do?¡±

    There is something I¡¯m forgetting. I just know there is. But¡­ what? We followed the line, activated some plates, and went into the room. That¡¯s all we did that was actually involved with the sub-quest. So¡­ wait. My Class Card. It wasn¡¯t actually involved with the quest, but the plastic paindne appeared pretty much exactly how the leeches did¨Cout of nothing. And the stain didn¡¯t appear until all the smoky magic disappeared from the room.

    I hold up my shield coin and nod to myself. If this doesn¡¯t work, I¡¯ve got one last thing I can think of¨Cand if that doesn¡¯t work, we teleport back to the tower and use the time we¡¯ve got to think up a new plan. I drop the shield at my feet, and the moment Clutter steps over it, I flare it into the most durable shield I can manage that¡¯ll still cover the entire hallway. The damn thing creates an airtight seal on all sides¨Cif this doesn¡¯t stop it, then no walls will.

    The stain encroaches on my shield within seconds. It batters up against it for a heartbeat, and I dare to hope that it¡¯ll actually hold. Then it starts to climb the shield, painting it in a sickly, translucent grey. Damage racks up at an increasing rate as more of it touches my magic, and before it can climb a quarter of the way up, my shield shatters into nothing. The moment it does, the stain simply appears on the ground exactly where it would¡¯ve been if I hadn¡¯t even thrown down a shield in the first place.

    ¡°No dice. But for a second, it looked like it was working.¡± I grimace and raise my left hand. ¡°Maybe if my shield was five times as strong, it could¡¯ve held out long enough. Clutter, get ready to dodge towards your closest wall!¡±

    He startles in surprise, but nods anyway as his tongue lolls from his mouth. With his understanding confirmed, I focus on my awareness and summon my Class Card¨Cwhich is already open to my map tab, even though I haven¡¯t done anything. I blink in surprise and stare down at it for a split second, and¡­ the map looks wrong. Completely wrong.

    Instead of the bird¡¯s eye view of the entire place, it¡¯s a zoomed in view of the hallways. Except it isn¡¯t the hallways¨Cit¡¯s a perfect grid, and there¡¯s a legend right next to one of the lines that says each ¡®segment¡¯ is a quarter of a mile. There¡¯s another new thing on the top left of the map as well¨Ctwo circles made of arrows, one pointing to the left and the other to the right¨Cwith the number ¡®90¡¯ inside of them.

    I reach up to tap on one of them, but my awareness flares before I can get my finger in place. ¡°Clutter! Now!¡±

    He jumps to the right. I jump to the left. My legs burn from the exertion of jumping, landing, and trying to keep the exact same pace all in a very short window. Clutter yelps and stumbles. It takes him less than two seconds to get back up to speed, but it halves the distance between him and the stain.

    His eyes widen in pure terror as he looks over his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m not fast enough!¡±

    Three plastic projectiles whizz through the places we were just standing. I turn to look, even though my awareness can feel it, as the plastic leeches completely miss us and soar into the space overtaken by the stain.

 Chapter 195: Run, Think, Run

    Shrill, sizzling pops burst into detonations of molten plastic. I blink at the suddenness of it all; one second the leeches were above the stain, the next they were swallowed up by it, and finally they just¡­ ballooned and detonated. Clutter covers his ears as the horrible sound reverberates off the walls, but from what I can see¡­ the stain¡¯s a little smaller.

    Not by much, though¨Cit lost about half of what it gained from climbing the wall. So the leech strategy worked. Just not very well yet.

    ¡°We¡¯re doing this again!¡± I shout over my shoulder. ¡°Take out your Class Card so the quest spawns more leeches!¡±

    Clutter pants and nods, then summons his own Class Card. His eyes lock onto the back of my head, waiting for my signal to jump out of the way. I focus the majority of my attention on my awareness, saving only a little bit of it to mush my fingers against the arrow-circles on my map.

    My awareness flares. I yell a command to Clutter, and he hops out of the way. This time he lands far more gracefully, and four leeches sail past us to get instantly popped by the stain. But not before they drain away a little of the magic that¡¯s powering it. It shrinks, though¡­ not quite as much as the first time. If the last one took six inches off its radius, this one only took about five and a half.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t it have taken more off?¡± I ask. ¡°We had four leeches this time, and with the way circles work, there should¡¯ve been more area taken away by the same amount of drain.¡±

    Pearl frowns. ¡°Less magic left it this time. But it looks like it¡¯s¡­ proportional. The leeches took off about five percent before, and if I¡¯m right, they took off about six percent this time. So there¡¯s diminishing returns for more leeches, and they¡¯re cutting off percentage chunks of the magic at a time.¡±

    I grimace. ¡°What¡¯s the chance we were supposed to learn that when the first leeches hit us?¡±

    ¡°A hundred percent.¡± Pearl says tensely. ¡°But we know that now; and hitting the stain with more leeches is still better than less. If we can get it to shrink to¡­ one-tenth size¡­ you two should be able to run away at a comfortable pace.¡±

    ¡°And with how you think the leeches are siphoning from it, how many more volleys will that take?¡±

    Now it¡¯s Pearl¡¯s turn to grimace. ¡°Forty or so. And that¡¯s without factoring in any more trips up the wall.¡±

    Okay, so waiting on that is out of the equation. Clutter¡¯s already barely twenty feet from the thing, and it¡¯s still gaining on us. ¡°What about a stalemate with how fast we¡¯re running right now? How big does it have to be for¨CJUMP!¡±

    Clutter snaps to attention as I push myself out of the way, and he does the same. More leeches fly into the stain, and it shrinks again¨Cbut once more, not by as much as the second volley. If I went and actually calculated what my awareness is seeing, I bet Pearl¡¯s assumptions would be right on the money.

    For a few seconds, the horrible gouging noises steal away my focus. I turn to watch the stain scour the once pristine hallway, leaving nothing but surface-level destruction in its wake. Even the magic that cut into my skin with blatant ease can¡¯t gouge that deeply into this place¡¯s material.

    Pearl claps her hands to get my attention. ¡°What were you about to ask?¡±

    I blink. ¡°Uh¡­ right. How big does it have to be for us to have a stalemate with it?¡±

    She frowns. ¡°Oh, that was the end of your question. Alright¡­ um¡­ about half as big as when you started. So about thirteen more volleys. Then we multiply that by about thirty seconds between volleys and you¡¯ve got six and a half minutes until it won¡¯t be gaining on you any more.¡±

    ¡°Will that be enough for Clutter to stay safe?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ think so.¡± Pearl says with very little confidence. ¡°If he doesn¡¯t stumble again, yes. But it¡¯ll be by inches¨Cnot by feet. Do you want to tell him?¡±

    I glance back at him¨Che¡¯s got perfect running form, a heaving chest with every gasping breath, and eyes wide from fear. Nothing good will come from putting extra stress on him, and since it seems like he¡¯s got the dodging down, I¡¯ll just have to trust that he can keep it up.

    ¡°No. He¡¯s doing fine without the pressure.¡± I say and turn back to the hall as I hold my Class Card up to Pearl¡¯s shell. ¡°Climb out here and see if those arrows on my card do anything. And make sure you¡¯re anchored on so I don¡¯t fling you off.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    She nods and stands without hesitation. Moments later she pops out of her shell, sticks herself to my shoulder, and presses her back against my neck to fully anchor herself. Tiny hands grab my Class Card, leaving me to focus completely on the leeches and on running. Except for a little bit that watches her fiddle with the plastic-y topography of my map.

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± She trails off as she presses one of the arrow-circles. My map doesn¡¯t shift in my awareness, but a tiny wisp of magic whispers through the hallway. ¡°Shelby, can you see this? Or is the change I¡¯m seeing right now not showing up on your awareness?¡±

    I shake my head. Pearl hums to herself in thought, then presses the other circle. Yet another wisp of magic quietly breezes through the hall, carrying with it something so subtle that I can¡¯t even begin to feel it. What I can feel, though, is another volley of leeches. I call it out, and we both jump to safety with barely an interruption in our stride.

    ¡°Okay, I think I have it. Not that there¡¯s much to have.¡± Pearl giggles, then turns and points down the hallway. ¡°Each of these hallways have a magic line in it¨Cthe same one that we followed from one hexagon to another. Right now, we¡¯re repeating the same mile-long stretch of hallway¨Cbut the magic is so strong that you can''t even tell when we¡¯re getting sent back to the beginning. It¡¯s even fixing the scratches, so you know it doesn¡¯t want us to find that out. Not that way, at least.¡±

    I swallow around a drying tongue. ¡°How, then?¡±

    She smiles and taps my Class Card. ¡°Based on your map, we¡¯ve gone three-quarters of a mile since you started running. That''s wayyyy too low for how fast you two are going. So I watched it for a few seconds, and when you should¡¯ve gone into a new grid square, your marker blinked right back to the start instead. But you¡¯d have to be watching your card like a hawk, which the stain makes kind of difficult.¡±

    ¡°That it does.¡± I agree with a dry chuckle. ¡°So what? If we¡¯re not actually getting anywhere by running, what¡¯re we supposed to do? Keep this up until the stain dies down enough that we can think and jog at the same time?¡±

    ¡°Nope. With these arrows, and the assumption that the pattern we looked at is right¡­¡±

    Pearl looks up as another wisp of magic tears through the air. But this one¡­ something¡¯s different with it. It bursts in midair, and gives off the sensation of¡­ turning left? Nothing actually shifts, but my brain insists that we just made a left turn.

    ¡°Whargh?!¡± Clutter exclaims in surprise. ¡°Did we just turn left?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow at Pearl in question. ¡°Sure feels like we did.¡±

    She beams with excitement and turns my card so I can barely see it. But even with only my peripheral vision, I can easily make out what¡¯s different; according to my card, we¡¯re now going left along one of the squares instead of up. Even though absolutely nothing changed with the hallway.

    ¡°The pattern.¡± Pearl says. ¡°We have to use these arrows to change our path on the map, even though in the real world, we¡¯re not changing directions at all. This must be another weird phase thing, but the trigger is the card, not looking at something. Or¡­ maybe looking at the card is the trigger?¡±

    She shrugs and moves my card away. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll find out when we¡¯re done based on where we end up.¡±

    ¡°Where we end up? Jump.¡± I frown as leeches whiz by my head. ¡°You think we¡¯re going to finish that pattern and end up in some other random part of the city?¡±

    Pearl raises an eyebrow. ¡°Why not? There¡¯s magic here that¡¯s forcing us back to the exact same spot over and over. Who¡¯s to say we won¡¯t end up in another part of the city?¡±

    ¡°Okay, then how the hell is that a reward?¡± I motion at the stain. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be proving ourselves. How the hell is anyone supposed to do this if they¨CA¨Cdon¡¯t have my map, B, didn¡¯t pay attention to the lines through the tiles, and C, don¡¯t have the stamina Clutter and I do? Would the quest just kill them outright?¡±

    ¡°Probably.¡±

    I tense up as the possibility shrieks through my mind. It¡¯s not¡­ impossible to think that the quest would kill some people taking it. And the thing did give us all the information we needed to solve it beforehand¡­ actually, wait, no it didn¡¯t. My map being visible is the only reason we¡¯re still okay. Unless¡­

    ¡°Clutter! Can you switch over to your map?¡±

    He vigorously shakes his head. Damn. The quest said everyone got a reward for finding the plastic paindne, but we got this ¡®special one¡¯ for being first. But what if that reward was to reactivate everyone¡¯s maps¨Cor if they didn¡¯t have one¨Cgive one to them? If that¡¯s the case, then the quest really did give us everything to solve this.

    ¡°We¡¯ll check when you¡¯re done, okay?¡±

    He nods, but still doesn¡¯t say anything. I don¡¯t blame him; my lungs burn from all the exertion, but somehow, my voice still works like normal. Must be some side effect of whatever gains I made from using the pills.

    An off-putting sensation rolls through my awareness as more leeches appear out of nowhere. Clutter and I dodge them, and about five seconds later, a sensation of turning right overtakes me. It¡¯s no less disorienting than the first time, and from what I can remember of the pattern, it¡¯s only the second direction change out of¡­ like¡­ thirty. And we¡¯re still about ten leech volleys away from a stalemate with the stain.

    Scratching and shudders work through my awareness as the stain, once again, climbs a wall. I grimace and raise my chin skyward as a titanic sigh flows out my nose, and the damn thing grows back half of the mass that the leeches took away.

    God damn it, why can¡¯t this be easy. We gotta be more careful of side quests after this. Because compared to the quest itself so far, they¡¯re the things that¡¯re going to kill us.

 Chapter 196: Hallway Vision

    Pearl steadily leads us through the maze of straight lines, the terrifying tedium broken up only by the regular leech volleys and the stain creeping up the wall to replenish itself. My throat feels like a well after a decade long drought, and though my muscles burn with use, it hasn¡¯t turned into pain just yet. Clutter seems¡­ okay¡­ for now. Sure, he can¡¯t talk and run at the same time any more, but he¡¯s still alive and keeping the pace.

    ¡°Just two more turns.¡± Pearl mumbles to herself. ¡°Stupid stain keeps regenerating itself. How¡¯s Clutter doing?¡±

    I glance over my shoulder. ¡°There¡¯s eight-ish feet. Not much left at all.¡±

    She grimaces. ¡°Barely any distance to work with. I really hope this does something, or else we¡¯re going to have to find a way to get the leeches to fire way faster.¡±

    ¡°Clutter already tried that by summoning and unsummoning his Class Card over and over again. Can¡¯t trigger them more than once every thirty seconds.¡± I say with a shake of my head. ¡°If there¡¯s nothing at the end of the path, we¡¯ll have to think of some way to trap the stain so it doesn¡¯t chase us around the city.¡±

    At the moment, that feels like a very difficult task. I bet the stain wouldn¡¯t be able to get into the tower, so we could lure it away for a little while at a time, but¡­ it¡¯s not preferable. The world turns left as I silently dodge out of the way of another volley, and Clutter jumps a second later. At some point he stopped listening to me, but I have no idea how many miles back that was.

    ¡°One more.¡± Pearl says tensely. ¡°This one¡¯s a straight shot. Either something happens really soon, or we teleport back to the tower.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t have to tell me. I look down at my holster and summon a five-Worth skeletal coin for each of my spells, but don¡¯t load them with any specifics just yet. Hopefully I won¡¯t need any of them, though previous experience says these three won¡¯t be anywhere near enough. I signal to Clutter with one finger to let him know to be ready, and he nods silently as his face shifts to concentration.

    ¡°Just a few more feet. Thirty¡­ ten¡­ now!¡± Pearl taps both of the arrow-circles at the same time, and the magic shifts. ¡°We¡¯re done! The map accepted the pattern we put in, and now we¡¯re actually running through the real hallways again!¡±

    The stain in my awareness and Clutter panting up a storm begs to differ that anything¡¯s changed at all. ¡°New developments, Pearl! Are there any notifications or new things on the map?!¡±

    She rapidly taps on my Class Card as the sounds of the stain grow exponentially louder. Like it shifted from nails on a chalkboard to scraping a jet engine down an erupting volcano.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking, but I don¡¯t see anything that¡¯s obviously different. All the tabs that were greyed out are still greyed out, the quest still says ¡®prove yourself¡¯, and the only difference is that we¡¯re back to the normal map.¡± She relays as quickly as her voice will let her. ¡°I¡¯m sure that we finished the grid, though. So¡­ something should¡¯ve happened!¡±

    A grimace splits my lips as my mind races. ¡°Check the map. Are we still in the same place, or did we get teleported somewhere else?¡±

    Pearl narrows her eyes at the map, then barks out a humorless laugh. ¡°There¡¯s a break in our path that¡¯s not even an inch long. So we definitely teleported, but no more than a few miles at most. If even that.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll be the bit of hallway that the quest kept repeating on us. God damn it.¡± I hiss as I feel my awareness scanning the area. ¡°Look for any gouges, scratches, lines¨Canything that¡¯s even a little out of place. I refuse to believe we¡¯re just supposed to outrun this thing until the leeches can consume enough of it.¡±

    Clutter gasps, pulling my attention to him. ¡°Illumisia?¡± He wheezes, then goes right back to panting.

    I shake my head. ¡°Even if we call her in, it doesn¡¯t make sense. We did everything the quest could¡¯ve expected us to do; there should be something here that shows us how to actually get rid of the stain. If there isn¡¯t¡­ then these side quests are just designed to kill whatever group finds them first.¡±

    His eyes widen, and he swallows around a dry lump in his throat. ¡°What if¡­ hggh¡­ not chasing us?¡±

    ¡°No. Impossible.¡± Pearl states flatly. ¡°I can feel it¡¯s magic. The thing is a sword aimed directly at both of your hearts¨Cit won¡¯t stop until both of you are dead. So don¡¯t think like that.¡±

    Clutter nods, a newfound small glimmer of relief in his eyes almost instantly snuffed out by the pain of running at the speed of desperation for over an hour straight. I want to assure him that we¡¯re going to be fine, but honestly, I¡¯m about five minutes away from throwing down a relocation coin in this hallway and screwing off back to the tower.

    The only thing keeping me here is a damn guarantee I can¡¯t even prove; that this quest is fair. That every aspect of it was created without the thought that a Worth class would ever touch it. Noland and Ursula alluded to completing some quests without the system screwing them over, so there¡¯s a little bit of a precedent for this being the truth. But right now, with my muscles screaming from constant use and no obvious solutions at hand, it¡¯s hard to see how this is possible. Hell, our only possibility for escape comes from a spell the vast majority of people don¡¯t have access to¨Chow¡¯s that fair to them?

    ¡°Were we supposed to get some item from the plastic paindne to help with this? Did we just¡­ completely miss it when we ran, even with two people¡¯s awareness scanning the room?¡±

    Pearl raises an eyebrow. ¡°I think you already answered that question.¡±

    ¡°Shit.¡± I hiss through my teeth. ¡°So we¡¯ve got nothing. Even if some random bullshit pops out of nowhere to save us, it means we¡¯ve got to avoid every side objective because they aren¡¯t meant to be completed. Alright, one more idea each, and then I¡¯m taking us back to the tower¨CPearl, what¡¯ve you got?¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Nothing.¡± She says flatly. ¡°Not with the cards we have right now. Clutter? How about you?¡±

    Clutter shakes his head. So that¡¯s a no from him, too, which leaves my adrenaline-shot brain to come up with the only idea. The two things that come to mind are ¡®phase¡¯ and ¡®hexagons¡¯; though I can¡¯t really think of any way they¡¯ll come into play. There really should¡¯ve been¡­ something¡­ that happened when we completed the pattern. I just can¡¯t come up with anything at all.

    I sigh in defeat and motion at Clutter. ¡°Then that¡¯s three blanks. We¡¯re going back.¡±

    Before I latch onto my coins in the tower, I hurl a relocation as far as possible down the hallway. It sails through the smoky magic of the city without changing a single thing, and I switch my focus to teleporting us to the tower. Admitting defeat feels horrible. But I just can¡¯t think of anything else that¡¯d help us now¨Cnot without access to the other parts of our Class Cards.

    Flickers of connection strain between us and my coins. Must be the magic in the air, since there¡¯s a little resistance between me and the coins. Even more between the coin connected to Illumisia¨Cbut it feels possible. Not like when I tried to bring Fleur over here. But that moment of resistance¡­ that moment where my spell doesn¡¯t come with a single thought¡­ it makes me hesitate. I grasp my hand around the intangible connection, and take another feel at it.

    The spell doesn¡¯t feel¡­ far. It¡¯s something else. Almost like a weight between me and my spell¨Cbut only for a little bit. I turn, my awareness hyper focused on the sensation of my spell, and realize what¡¯s creating that sensation; the stain. There¡¯s nothing destroying my spell, but there¡¯s an area of¡­ weight¡­ around it. Almost like the stain is actually a three-dimensional thing, but it only reveals itself where it squishes against the ground.

    It shouldn¡¯t make a difference. But¡­ it feels wrong. Like I¡¯m seeing the stain in two existences at once¨Cthe one my spell feels, and the one we¡¯re actually standing in. All it does is make me more sure that the solution has something to do with phased objects¨Cbecause that¡¯s how we found our entrance¨Cbut I just have no idea what I¡¯m supposed to do with that knowledge.

    ¡­Unless¡­ hrm. If it¡¯s actually a three-dimensional object, then with how it¡¯s only staining a circle on the floor right now, there¡¯s space to both sides of it¨Cand above it. If one of us had super speed, there¡¯s a chance we¡¯d be able to zip around it. Or maybe if I¡¯d been paying a little more attention, then I¡¯d have figured out the timing between when it slides up the wall. Making an obvious space for us to get around it.

    I shake my head and summon another relocation coin. There¡¯s really no risk to checking, so I huck it as close to the ceiling as I can. It flips through the air, tumbling over and over again as it soars right over the stain¨Cand scratches just barely touch the bottom of it. My spell starts to leak out, and if I give it a few more seconds, it¡¯ll be gone.

    ¡°Keep running Clutter!¡± I order as I latch onto the coin that¡¯s behind the stain. ¡°If it turns around, just keep running!¡±

    He nods vigorously. I take a deep breath and trigger the rapidly decaying relocation. The world shudders, and after a brief moment of resistance, my feet slam down on the other side of the stain. Extremely shallow scratches litter the floor and some parts of the walls, but aside from that, there¡¯s very little damage. I skid to a stop before I can take another step towards the¡­

    Instead of the stain, there¡¯s a massive mound of plastic gliding over the floor towards Clutter. Teeth grow from every visible part of the thing, pulsating in and out of the sickly mass like slow-motion jigsaw blades. But¡­ it¡¯s there. It¡¯s real. I was right. And I still have absolutely no goddamn clue how we¡¯re supposed to stop it.

    Pearl stares at the thing right alongside me with a contemplative frown. ¡°Should we¡­ run after it? Because if it manages to catch Clutter, it¡¯ll come right back for us.¡±

    ¡°Why didn''t it turn around for us first?¡±

    ¡°I dunno. Momentum?¡± She offers with a shrug.

    I nod slowly as I start running again. ¡°If it going up a wall was supposed to be giving us an opening, it makes sense that it wouldn¡¯t instantly turn around and chew us into mush. So there has to be something back here¨Csomething behind it¨Cthat can help the people who¡¯re still meant to be chased.¡±

    Pearl hums in thought as I chase down the plastic mass. Before she can say anything, I remove the primed five-Worth skeletal projectile from my holster and input a simple command; last long enough to reach the plastic, be as big as half the hallway, and put everything else into speed and power.

    She narrows her eyes at me as I let it fly. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s going to¨C¡±

    Plastic and teeth fly in every direction as the mound detonates. Shrill screeches and clattering impacts echo from everywhere as the teeth scrape against the edges of the hallway, while the plastic splatters wetly against everything else. I blink in utter surprise and end my projectile before it can hit Clutter in the aftermath.

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I trail off as Clutter appears through the rain of filth, an utterly bewildered expression plastered on his exerted face. ¡°Wow.¡±

    He nods in wide-eyed agreement. ¡°How¡¯d you¡­¡±

    I shrug and hold out my hands in confusion. ¡°I have absolutely no idea.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Pearl says quietly. ¡°That thing¡­ the outline of it existed in our world, and the rest of it was in phase. So when you actually observed it, the outline shifted into phase and the rest of it came into reality. Exposing the extremely squishy innards for your spell to obliterate.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± I say. It¡¯s as good of an explanation as any of us¡¯ll be coming up with any time soon. ¡°I could¡¯ve done that at absolutely any point in the last hour.¡±

    Pearl nods slowly. ¡°I think so.¡±

    Clutter laughs, then collapses to the ground in a panting heap. ¡°We did it in the wrong order.¡±

    ¡°Seems like it.¡± I chuckle in exhausted sympathy. ¡°Could¡¯ve saved ourselves a lot of terrified running if we just killed the thing before we took all the twists and turns.¡±

    ¡°My lungs feel like I swallowed a bunch of dust devils.¡± He groans and raises his Class Card, then grimaces and rolls out of the way of a volley of leeches. ¡°Oh, I can see my map again. Cool.¡±

    I step out of the path of the leeches, then bend down to see. Sure enough, his map isn¡¯t greyed out any more. And if I¡¯m right, it stopped being greyed out the second we started being chased by the stain. He smiles weakly at me, then sends his Class Card away and lets his arms flop against the ground. I dismiss my own, and Pearl shifts to a more comfortable position with her legs kicking over my shoulder.

    ¡°Think that counts as proving ourselves, Clutter?¡±

    He snorts. ¡°I really hope the quest thinks so.¡±

    As if on cue, my Class Card informs me that I¡¯ve got a new notification. From how Clutter¡¯s eyes light up, he just got one too. I hand him a relocation coin that he accepts, then tosses down the hall to land somewhere close to the first one I threw.

    ¡°That means we¡¯re going back to the tower first, right?¡± His voice quivers with hope and exhaustion.

    I give him one very sincere nod of confirmation.

 Chapter 197: Expensive Dupes

    Relocation flares, and the safety of the tower appears around us. I pull out my Class Card to make sure the intake is set to energy, then turn to Clutter and raise an eyebrow. He nods back, squirms over to the wall, and uses it to prop himself into a sitting position as he pants for his life.

    ¡°We need food and water.¡± I note as the tower¡¯s air gently wraps around me like a soothing hug. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how long we can survive without it, but it¡¯s definitely not weeks.¡±

    Clutter tries to swallow, but just coughs. ¡°Maybe the ¡®energy¡¯ option works like a meal replacement potion, too. I mean, we haven¡¯t seen anything close to food or water since we got here so¡­ it kind of makes sense.¡±

    ¡°That or it¡¯s an option we haven''t unlocked yet.¡± I sigh as I slide down next to him. ¡°But that¡¯s enough worrying about the imminent future for now. Let¡¯s see what the quest decided killing that stain was worth.¡±

    ¡°Killing the stain and running a map-only maze.¡± Pearl chimes in. ¡°We¡¯d still be stuck in an infinite loop if we couldn''t figure that out.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°I¡¯d say we definitely proved ourselves. Clutter, you want to do the honours?¡±

    ¡°Yes, please.¡± He says as eagerly as he can and pulls out his Class Card. ¡°Ooh, I hope it¡¯s something cool¡­ I haven¡¯t gotten an awesome quest reward before. Do you think it¡¯s going to be a weapon with its own legend? Or what about a coin that gives you a clearance level the same way most coins give you stat points? Ooh, ooh, no¨Chow about a spell that lets me shift between phase and unphased so I can be more than completely invisible?¡±

    I let him excitedly chatter on for a few minutes as the tower revitalizes us little by little. It doesn¡¯t take a mind reader to figure out that he¡¯s stalling for time because he¡¯s nervous about the rewards; his hands are shaky, he won¡¯t look me in the eyes, and he¡¯s got his Class Card turned away from both of us. I can¡¯t tell why he¡¯s sidestepping actually looking at it, but he¡¯s got to have his reasons.

    Doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m just going to ignore it, though. ¡°Do you want me to check mine first?¡±

    He stops mid sentence, and a guilty look spreads like a blush. Along with an actual blush. ¡°You could tell?¡±

    ¡°Excitement and stalling for five minutes are kind of exclusive emotions.¡± I say with a shrug. ¡°But we¡¯re going to have to look eventually. Would it make you more comfortable if I left the tower for a few minutes so you can have some privacy?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± He exclaims and sits up straighter. ¡°I¡­ it isn¡¯t you. It¡¯s me. I¡¯m¡­ worried that I¡¯m not going to get credit for the things you did. N-not in a selfish way, but in a ¡®I don¡¯t want confirmation that I¡¯m just slowing you down¡¯ kind of way. All I did was run from the stain¨Cyou two are the ones that actually figured out how to do everything.¡±

    ¡°Aw, Clutter, don¡¯t¡­¡± I trail off as I try to think of something he did. ¡°You¡­ distracted the stain when I teleported behind it. I couldn''t have destroyed it if the thing turned around before it phased in.¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°You know that¡¯s a lie¨Cit didn¡¯t have time to react, and even if it turned as fast as it could, you would¡¯ve already phased it in. I did next to nothing for this except not explicitly slow you down.¡±

    Pearl sighs and rolls her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re our scout, Clutter. Our information gatherer, covert operative, and guide. Just like it¡¯s your job to lead us with information, we¡¯re here to lead you through fights. If you can eventually hold your own¨Cgreat. But if you can¡¯t, then you just need to double down on the ways you can help us.¡±

    Her words hang in the air as Clutter slowly turns to meet her gaze. Pearl¡¯s intensity far outweighs her size, but Clutter doesn¡¯t shrink away from it¨Che steels himself and takes a calming breath. This isn¡¯t the first time he¡¯s lamented his less than stellar combat abilities¨Cbut from how he easily took care of the sphere-head constructs, his strength isn¡¯t in killing formless atrocities.

    It''s very quickly and quietly dealing with fragile necks or similar weak points. Though I have a feeling that won¡¯t get through to him until he influences a real fight with those very strengths.

    Though it takes him another dozen seconds, Clutter eventually turns his Class Card towards himself and looks down at it. His eyes light up, but his body keeps the same nervous disposition as before.

    ¡°My map¡¯s visible again. And there¡¯s a little notification that says it was¡­ part of the reward for meeting the plastic paindne?¡± He frowns in confusion and taps on his screen. ¡°It doesn¡¯t say what the other half is. All I can see is my map and a marker¨COOH!¡±

    He whips around and points directly at his card. ¡°I have a location marker now! See! I¡¯m right here in the tower! That must be what the other part of the reward was!¡±

    I nod in agreement as I study Clutter¡¯s map. Compared to mine, which has three dimensional textures, his just looks like a flat piece of paper. But there¡¯s a little black dot¨Clike a single ink droplet that fell on the paper¨Cright on top of the tower. And if I¡¯m remembering right, that little thing is apparently extremely expensive.Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Congratulations.¡± I offer him a pleasant smile. ¡°Too bad I already had both of those, so I didn''t get anything out of the first meeting.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. Sorry about that.¡± Clutter says sheepishly, then swipes away to his notifications. ¡°Right here it says I gained the ¡®use of the map tab¡¯. And if I didn¡¯t already have a map or a location marker, that the quest would permanently upgrade my Class Card with them. I already had a map, so I guess it doesn¡¯t compensate for anything we already had.¡±

    ¡°Just a way to make sure everyone has everything they need to finish the objectives. Hrm.¡± I hum in thought as I stare at Clutter¡¯s Class Card. ¡°Are all the quests always this ¡®fair¡¯?¡±

    He snorts and shakes his head. ¡°Definitely not. Look¨Cright here it says ¡®permanently¡¯. Most quests would just give you the map for the duration of the quest, or even only for the part of that quest you need it for. The only reason I can think of that they¡¯d give it to us permanently is if¡­ well¡­ actually, I can think of two reasons.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Pearl tilts her head to the side. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just jaded, but I can only think of one. But you say yours first.¡±

    ¡°Okay. First¨C¡± He holds up one finger with adorable seriousness. ¡°The quest thinks we¡¯re going to need not just the map, but the location marker even when we finish it. Maybe there¡¯s a second part to it that we¡¯ll need the map for. Or¨Cum, second¡­ly¡­ the quest is going to give us so many rewards that it thinks the value of a map and a location marker are absolutely nothing compared to everything else we¡¯re going to get.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. The first possibility isn¡¯t¡­ great. It tickles a part of my brain that sends off so many warning signals that my own thoughts have trouble getting through the noise. Sure, the second option is pure gravy for us, but I can¡¯t believe the system would give away anything for nothing. Especially because the map and location marker are just for talking to the construct¨Cnot for ¡®proving yourself¡¯ after. If it was, then I¡¯d be way more likely to believe option two.

    Pearl nods thoughtfully. ¡°If you¡¯re treating the quest as a¡­ good entity¡­ then maybe you could be right. But I¡¯ll throw option three in there; somehow, it benefits the system that, when we get out of here, we all have maps. I don¡¯t know how, and it definitely sounds like a conspiracy theory, but I just don¡¯t trust it.¡±

    ¡°Me neither.¡± I easily agree. ¡°But none of that matters yet. What¡¯s the reward from ¡®proving¡¯ ourselves, Clutter?¡±

    He slightly inclines his chin, then scrolls down. After a second of frowning, he scrolls up instead with a slightly embarrassed laugh. ¡°I kind of forgot that the notification would be newer. Whoopsie. So, um¡­ here it is.¡±

    You have proven yourselves to be: enduring, observant, competent.

    This has been noted by the city.

    Reward: one Tower addition, to be voted on by the following members of your group:

    (Shelby, Clutter).

    Possible additions: Workshop, Kitchen.

    One additional reward revealed after choice is made.

    My eyes widen as I read the options. The workshop opens up the possibility to refill¨Cor make¨Cmore catalysts. But without access to the grey magic, that¡¯s all but useless. And the other possibility¡­ well, if the quest¡¯s trying to bait me, then it¡¯s got me hook, line, and sinker.

    ¡°We need the kitchen.¡± Pearl and I say at the same time. We share a look, and she motions for me to go first. ¡°Nothing else matters if we starve to death in a week. As long as the kitchen has some food already in it, we can make it stretch for at least a while.¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°Plus, if it has running water, that means we can use it as a makeshift bathroom as well. It¡¯s not pleasant to think about, but¡­ well¡­ soon enough, you know?¡±

    ¡°I completely agree.¡± Clutter says seriously. ¡°But I want the workshop. And¨Cand hear me out first; if you¡¯re expecting the kitchen to have food and water, isn¡¯t it fair to assume that the workshop might have materials too? Like the grey magic, which we might be able to use to upgrade the tower from right here in this room?¡±

    He makes a point. Not a great one, since it hinges on our argument of the kitchen having the food required for us to live, but it is a point. It does bring up something that could become a problem, though.

    ¡°What happens if we tie the vote?¡± Clutter and Pearl turn to look at me. I pull up the exact same notification on my Class Card and tap ¡®kitchen¡¯, which locks in my vote. ¡°Since I can see your argument for the workshop, I won¡¯t fault you for picking it. But know that it means we¡¯re going to have to go find another one of these¡­ quest-rooms¡­ on an empty stomach if we want to eat.¡±

    Momentary hesitation flashes over Clutter¡¯s eyes, but it vanishes just as quickly. He nods and presses ¡®workshop¡¯ on his own Class Card, which annoys me more than a little, but I really do get it. My choice is the safer option. His choice has a much higher ceiling if our assumptions turn out to be right.

    ¡°Then I guess we¡¯ll see how it treats ties.¡± I say with careful effort not to let any annoyance seep into my voice. ¡°And whatever it chooses, we regroup tomorrow to try and find a way to get the other.¡±

    Clutter nods in agreement. ¡°After a full, rejuvenating sleep.¡±

    ¡°One without water. Or clean clothes.¡± Pearl mutters. ¡°For your sake, Clutter, I hope the workshop has a sink.¡±

    ¡°Me too.¡± He agrees wholeheartedly. ¡°It wouldn''t be safety certified if it wasn¡¯t.¡±

    With Clutter¡¯s¡­ strange source of confidence lingering in the air, I can¡¯t help but laugh as I watch the Class Card for a new notification. It comes after a few seconds, and I feel the rumble of something down in the walls shifting to make room for something new.

    The vote is tied.

    ¡®Workshop¡¯ is the higher quality option, and as such, it has been chosen over ¡®kitchen¡¯.

    Construction commencing within the walls underneath your tower; access to the workshop will still be restricted by your group¡¯s choices.

    Final reward: a room with doors has appeared at the bottom of your tower.

 Chapter 198: Circles and Hexes

    With the notification of a cryptic final reward, I press on my back and rise to my feet. I tilt my head at the stairs in a silent question to Clutter, and he nods with a grimace as he uses the wall to stand. From the look in his eyes, it isn¡¯t hyperbolic to say he¡¯s staying awake with nothing but force of will.

    ¡°We can wait half an hour if you want to take a power nap.¡± I offer as he starts walking to the stairs. ¡°No point seeing things now if you¡¯re going to have to take a second look since you missed so much the first time around.¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°I¡¯m okay for¡­ ten minutes. Just enough to get a first look, and then the two of you can go really in depth.¡±

    I shrug. ¡°You¡¯re the one whose eyelids are struggling, not mine. Go slow down the stairs so you don¡¯t fall.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± He says with a small smile. ¡°But thanks for worrying about me.¡±

    My mouth pulls into a tight line as I watch him struggle down the first few stairs. His legs shake a little with every step, and he has to lean against the wall with both palms pressed against it for balance, but¡­ he looks used to it. Like this isn¡¯t his first time working through an exhaustion that could be deadly with even one enemy around. I step onto the stairs just as he¡¯s about to disappear around the bend, and he looks back at me with a half proud, half relieved grin.

    Pearl huffs, then speaks right into my mind. ¡°He has a serious fear of abandonment. But he also has pride that makes him want to be a part of every single decision being made. I can see that making it pretty hard for new groups to accept him.¡±

    I nod in agreement. Not that I don¡¯t see where he¡¯s coming from; I hate being left in the dark about things, too, but I¡¯ve never really felt ¡®abandoned¡¯ by anyone. The part that¡¯s¡­ difficult¡­ about him is his own¡­ inability to do the things he wants to do. And then he gets sulky that he can¡¯t do them, even if I never expected him to do those things in the first place. I did properly tell him what I expect from him, right? Yeah, I¡¯m pretty damn sure I did. So all this is just some pride point for him.

    He wants to be able to do everything. There¡¯s no way that doesn¡¯t stem from some unrealistic expectations placed on him as a kid or¡­ something. But I¡¯m not a damn therapist, so all I can do is hope that he finds his own answer and be there when he wants to talk about it.

    My awareness feels the door before we see it. It¡¯s more like a vault door¨Ccircular, hinged on one side, and with a comically large multi-pronged wheel at the very center of it. All of it glistens with grey magic, and it feels¡­ almost like the rest of the material of the tower. Except there¡¯s a slight magical dissipation that¡¯s just leaking off of it and disappearing into nowhere.

    ¡°I guess the system just made the room.¡± I say as we near the floor. ¡°Wonder if it made the alcove with the plastic paindne as we were following the line. Or maybe in that long delay after we activated the second hexagon.¡±

    ¡°I have no idea.¡± Pearl responds out loud. ¡°There wasn¡¯t any obvious magical intrusion like there is right here, but that doesn¡¯t mean there wasn¡¯t any.¡±

    Clutter nods in agreement. ¡°If the system wants us to believe this place was more populated than it actually was, then it¡¯d make sense. But if it¡¯s actually an ancient city, why bother making rooms when you¡¯ve probably got a ton of space to work with anyway?¡±

    I don¡¯t have a good answer for him other than ¡®because the system wanted to¡¯. Sure, it might be true, but if we start thinking like that then this entire quest becomes pointless. Well, not completely pointless because of the rewards, but¡­ what¡¯s a better word for it? Unfulfilling? Whatever word means it only gives material wealth, not satisfaction.

    We turn the last bend, and the vault door comes into view. Clutter gasps at the sight, then tries to hurry over to it, only to stop with a wince and hold his back in discomfort. I gently pat his shoulder as I walk by, but my attention is completely locked on the vault door.

    Somehow, and without my awareness even noticing, the door stopped being a circle. A hexagon stares back at me, outlined in grey magic, and perfectly mirrored in my awareness. Almost like by looking at it, the thing changed from a circle to what we see now. But that¡¯d mean the door is phased. And if I didn¡¯t have an awareness, I literally never would¡¯ve noticed.

    ¡°Pearl?¡± I mutter quietly. ¡°You saw the circle too, right?¡±

    She nods. ¡°It changed the moment Clutter turned the corner. It must be phased, but¡­ why?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m wondering.¡±

    I reach out and brush the door with my fingertips. Grey magic hums inside of the material, unlike the stagnant stuff that makes up the walls below us. Even though it looks like and has the same texture as the other stuff, this material feels¡­ strange. More conductive. If I hadn¡¯t seen the other stuff just suddenly have magic inside of it, I¡¯d think this is just flat-out better than the other stuff.

    But having experience with the other stuff¡­ it seems wasteful for the magic to always be here. Like a car that has to be left on because it takes so long to start up. Then the other stuff would be a luxury car that turns on at the push of a button, and does so instantly. Maybe it¡¯s just my imagination, but this feels like it¡¯s compensating for not being able to perfectly replicate the material the walls are made of.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Nrgh!¡± Clutter grunts as he forces himself to stand up with a tear in his eye. ¡°Why¡¯s the wall so bright? Don¡¯t the other doors open only when we want them to?¡±

    Okay, if Clutter¡¯s noticing it without an awareness, it can¡¯t be just me. ¡°Yeah. This definitely feels like an add-on.¡±

    He nods in agreement and pulls out his Class Card. ¡°Like someone built a shed right next to their house with slightly worse building materials, since the laws for sheds and houses are different.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯ve got housing laws here, too?¡±

    ¡°Of course we do.¡± He scoffs as he taps something on his Class Card and the door clicks unlocked. ¡°If you have a bunch of people with spells, and some of them are transmuters, you have no reason to make a house out of anything but the best materials. That¡¯s why the stuff in Denmary was so out of place¨Cit was like someone who didn¡¯t care at all made most of them.¡±

    Makes sense. If we could turn plywood into old-growth lumber with a little mana, I bet every house would be insanely solid back on Earth. ¡­Huh, is that how the houses in Palastia looked like they were carved out of stone? Did they get a bunch of transmuters to turn normal building materials into the same rock as the rest of the city, or did they actually carve everything out? Because that¡¯s a hell of a lot of work either way.

    On the same note¡­ making this place would be infinitely more work. Not months, or even years worth, but probably decades of people working tirelessly to make sure everything¡¯s in the right place. A place like this¡­ how¡¯d it get forgotten in the first place? And ¡®forgotten¡¯ doesn¡¯t mean destroyed, so are we actually somewhere in the world right now, or are we¡­ like¡­ phased out?

    I shake my head as Clutter grabs the spoke-wheel and pulls the door open. If this quest is worth doing, all my questions about this place should be answered before we¡¯re sent back to where we came from.

    He carefully pulls the door back with a grunt of effort, then yelps as his grunt-aided pull turns out to be way too strong. The door swings open with a mighty whoosh, and Clutter tumbles to the ground as he instinctively lets go of the spoke. He blinks a few times in surprise, then looks down at his hands in astonishment.

    ¡°How did I get this strong?¡±

    I snort and shake my head. ¡°It¡¯s a light door, buddy. See?¡± I reach out and gently nudge the door. It sways like a shirt drying in a breeze. ¡°The quest wouldn''t be nice enough to give you a random power-up for no reason. Unless you were chugging stat coins while I wasn¡¯t looking?¡±

    ¡°No. I wasn¡¯t.¡± He pouts as he awkwardly gets to his feet. ¡°Why¡¯s the door so¡­ weird? All the other stuff felt really solid, but this feels¡­¡±

    ¡°Cheap?¡± I offer as I give the door a few test swings.

    He nods. ¡°Yeah, it feels like a cheap knock-off of the actual wall material. Did the quest do this on purpose? Is this some kind of a hint, and we¡­ um¡­ should reinforce the room behind this so people can¡¯t break into it?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t even thought of that. But he¡¯s right¨Cour impenetrable tower now has a very cheap feeling wall spliced into it. Hopefully it¡¯ll still keep the radiation out, or else we¡¯re going to be spending way more time in the walls than I¡¯d planned on. And wasting pretty much all of the tower¡¯s benefits.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, the system wouldn¡¯t screw over normal people for completing a difficult sub-quest.¡± I say with confidence I don¡¯t feel and step into the seemingly empty room. ¡°This is a reward¨Cnot another part of the quest. And¡­ wait, weren¡¯t there supposed to be doors here?¡±

    Clutter steps through right behind me and takes a look around. He frowns when he¡¯s less than halfway through. ¡°Yeah, for a ¡®room with doors¡¯, there sure aren¡¯t any doors in here. And why¡¯s it a hexagon? Wasn¡¯t pretty much everything a circle or some kind of rectangle until we found the handprint plate?¡±

    ¡°It was. And the only place we saw hexagons before the quest started was the rock with the plastic in it.¡± I turn and motion at the door. ¡°You think all this stuff is made of plastic?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why it¡¯d be¡­ but maybe?¡± Clutter shrugs. ¡°Try closing the door. See if that makes anything appear.¡±

    I nod and reach for the wheel on the inside of the door, then pull it shut. It clicks loudly, yet the sound is hollow, and a burst of grey magic suddenly fills the room in tune with the hollowness. I shift to see what the stuff is doing, but the light of six new hexagonal doors takes my attention first. There¡¯s one on every wall except for the one we came through, and one on the roof¨Clike a hatch leading to the ceiling. For five of them, my awareness informs me that the magic just cuts off an inch or so into the wall. But for the door right across from the entrance, it doesn¡¯¡¯ cut off at all. In fact, the magic stretches so far into the distance that my awareness cuts off before it does. And that¡¯s not considering the fact that I can somehow feel the magic through solid mass.

    As I¡¯m watching it, brows furrowed in confusion, a pattern etches itself into the door. It starts at the bottom, makes turns for absolutely no reason, and quickly zips up to connect to the top. Even if I don¡¯t have the pattern that we had to run to escape the repeated hallway memorized, I¡¯m pretty damn sure the one on the door is a perfect replica of it¨Cminus the grid.

    ¡°That¡¯s the pattern.¡± Pearl says, removing all of my doubts.

    ¡°Why¡¯s it here?¡± Clutter asks nervously. ¡°Are we going to have to run again if we open it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But¡­ maybe¡­¡± I walk up to the door and trace my fingers along the pattern as I slowly form a theory. ¡°What if the workshop slash kitchen upgrade would¡¯ve happened even if we did the ¡®first time¡¯ of a different sub-quest, and this door appeared because we did specifically the one we did?¡±

    Pearl hums. ¡°It¡¯d make sense. But we won¡¯t know for sure until we walk through it. Clutter, can you open it up?¡±

    He hesitates for a split second, but taps on his Class Card anyway. ¡°If we have to do that whole thing again, you¡¯re killing the stain and then we¡¯re both going to take a break.¡±

    ¡°I can do that.¡±

    He nods and swallows hard. ¡°Okay. Then get ready.¡±

    The door clicks and violently swings open on its own. I flinch back in surprise as magic and light surge together as one, and somewhere else feels like it just appears out of nowhere. My awareness stretches into the unknown, where it touches a mass of¡­ oh, what the actual hell.

    Grey magic and plastic turns towards us, and a plastic paindne offers us a very familiar smile.

    ¡°Back so-so-so soon?¡±

 Chapter 199: The Draw of a Workshop

    Clutter slams the door shut before anyone can get a word out. He fumbles with his Class Card as he presses the hexagon shut with his back, and as it clicks to let us know it¡¯s locked, he sighs with relief and slumps down to the ground.

    A little bit more visceral than I would¡¯ve reacted, but I can¡¯t say I don¡¯t get it. ¡°Pearl, did you see anything through there in the¡­ two seconds it was open?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm.¡± She confirms. ¡°A lot of scratches, an open door on the other side, and a hexagonal plate in the wall that¡¯s about halfway covered up by the hallway¡¯s material.¡±

    ¡°So it is the same room.¡± I mutter to myself as Clutter slowly stands up. ¡°We essentially have a permanent starway between the tower and that one half-circle room now.¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°It¡¯d be a lot more convenient if you couldn¡¯t just relocate us anywhere we¡¯ve already been. But¡­ I guess it¡¯s good if other things start showing up in the city.¡±

    ¡°If that ever happens, then yeah. I¡¯d have to start finding hiding places for my coins, and there definitely weren¡¯t any in that little room.¡± I cross my arms and furrow my brow in thought. ¡°But why¡¯s that construct there again? Is that part of the reward, too, or does it just reappear whenever someone enters the room?¡±

    ¡°We can ask it next time. And we won''t bring Clutter along since he has a problem with it.¡±

    Clutter vigorously nods in agreement. ¡°Thank you. That thing just¡­ really rubs me the wrong way.¡±

    I bend down and plant my hand on the ground. ¡°No worries. The thing isn¡¯t that useful, anyway, so we don¡¯t have much of a reason to go talk to it after it answers that one question. But if this reward is actually a bunch of potential teleportation points, then I can see the tower being even more useful as a home base. Especially if we come across some more people and I don¡¯t want to play teleporter for everyone.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably starting to eat into your Worth, isn¡¯t it?¡± Clutter asks as he steps up to the circular door that etches itself into the ground. ¡°How much do you have left? Or¡­ how much did you start off with when you came here?¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ a good question. I haven¡¯t really checked since all this shit went down, and I¡¯ve been weaving five-Worth coins into my rotations without even thinking about it. Just whenever I want a more powerful spell; a five Worth appears in my hand and I use it like normal. ¡­Actually¡­ have I really been using that many one-Worth spells at all?

    I frown and sit down on the edge of the door while I check my Class Card. Since my spells don¡¯t really get stronger with anything but Worth, and I¡¯ve been casting stronger spells, that¡¯d have to mean I¡¯ve been using more Worth. If there was something like a¡­ purchase history¡­ I¡¯d be able to check, but that doesn¡¯t exist. And if it did, it¡¯d definitely be greyed out with the rest of my card functions. Luckily my stats are still visible, and my liquid Worth is at¡­ three hundred. Not close to going bankrupt, but that¡¯s damn far from the next clearance threshold.

    Just to be sure, though, I mentally call for a strong projectile. A five-Worth coin appears in my hand. I stare at it for a few seconds, then send it away as I mentally berate myself for not actually looking at the coins before I use my spells. I need to be more clear with my thoughts before I summon the coins, not just once I go to put spells in them. Hell, my stores of five-Worth coins are probably close to zero now, and the rest could very likely be singles.

    ¡°I need to go back to using weaker spells.¡± I grumble as I send the card away. ¡°I wasted way too much Worth on things that definitely could¡¯ve been done with two, three, or even one Worth.¡±

    ¡°Remember that Noland said something about diminishing returns?¡± Pearl chimes in. ¡°So it¡¯s even worse than you thought if you¡¯re using a five Worth coin, because you¡¯re probably only getting¡­ like¡­ three and a half Worth of power out of it.¡±

    I groan and shake my head. ¡°Damn you for reminding me; now I feel even worse about my spending habits. How many stat points worth of Worth have I thrown away since I got here?¡±

    ¡°I dunno.¡± Pearl shrugs. ¡°Probably more than two, though.¡±

    Three hundred Worth left. I grimace and drop down into the hallway, then glance up at the ceiling as the door closes behind me. If I think purely short term, I¡¯m fine. But if this lasts for months, then I¡¯m going to have to find another way to get some Worth. Destroying the constructs won¡¯t work, since their bodies are too durable, and I didn¡¯t get anything for shattering the heads.

    Clutter sticks his head around a corner that didn¡¯t exist before. ¡°Are you coming?¡±

    I nod slowly and follow him around the bend. Instead of more wall, a circular door opens the way to a completely dark interior. The light simply stops like a sheet of rain blocked by an overpass, and beyond it is absolutely nothing. Not just darkness¨Cmy awareness screams at me that nothing exists beyond this point. I tilt my head and frown, but before I can say anything, Clutter just¡­ walks in.

    Existence shapes itself around him. His foot meets a chunk of floor that didn¡¯t exist a second ago, and reality forms itself around the impact point like a steady stream of dripping paint. Light doesn''t come with it, and Clutter whimpers as he completely disappears into the absence of light. My words can¡¯t leave my mouth fast enough to warn him, and as the first syllable passes my lips, he¡¯s standing in the middle of a well-sized room.

    An empty room, sure, but a room nonetheless.

    ¡°Be¡­ nevermind.¡± I sigh and shake my head. ¡°I guess one of us was supposed to do that.¡±

    ¡°Do what?!¡± He asks with fear in his voice. ¡°I can¡¯t see anything! Am I about to run into something? Are there saws and stuff in here?! I don¡¯t want to bang my knees on saws!¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Pearl giggles as we watch Clutter feel his way around the completely empty room. I keep the amusement off my face, since I would¡¯ve kept us from even walking in there, but it¡¯s¡­ weird. This room¨Cthis strangeness¨Cit doesn¡¯t feel like the room with doors. All the material is indistinguishable from the halls and there¡¯s no residual magic, but it appeared out of nowhere just like the door room. I scratch my neck as I carefully step through the threshold, completely ready to rely on my awareness.

    Light blinks into existence the moment my toe passes the threshold. Clutter yelps in surprise as a table suddenly appears in his path, wheeling his arms to keep from falling as he teeters towards a sharp edge covered by a little grey laminate. On top of said table, which is made of the same material as the hallway, is a set of glassware. Vials, flasks, canisters, and¡­ cylinders. Exactly like the catalyst that Clutter found, but with one end open to the air.

    I step forward and grab Clutter¡¯s arm to steady him. He plants his feet while his eyes bulge in disbelief, then he laughs awkwardly as he carefully takes a few steps back.

    ¡°That would¡¯ve been really bad.¡± He gulps. ¡°Is¡­ is this it?¡±

    My awareness says yes. But¡­ that can¡¯t be right. There¡¯s one table in the center of the room with a good amount of glassware on it, and that¡¯s it. No sinks, no burners, no¡­ magical work stations, whatever those look like. Hell, there¡¯s no machinery like the stuff Dizzy has. The only way I¡¯d call this a workshop is if I was mocking it.

    Pearl looks around and raises an eyebrow. ¡°Where¡¯s all the stuff? This is more like a¡­ really underwhelming lab, not a workshop.¡±

    ¡°One table and some glass. It¡¯s like the quest barely has an understanding of what a workshop is.¡± I chuckle and pick up one of the empty catalysts. ¡°Only good thing is that we¡¯ve got another of the catalyst tubes. No grey magic to use it, of course, but we¡¯ve got an empty piece of glass.¡±

    ¡°Hooray.¡± Pearl says sarcastically. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here. Waiting in the tower will be better with the benefits it gives.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ we¡­¡± Clutter looks around the room with disappointment. ¡°This can¡¯t be everything. Is it my fault that I chose this? Would the kitchen have been way better? Oh no, we could¡¯ve been eating sandwiches and drinking a lot of fresh water right now, but because I wanted this, we¡¯re stuck with pretty much nothing.¡±

    I shake my head and lean against the table. ¡°The quest said this was the higher quality addition. If we¡¯d voted on the kitchen, there¡¯s no way we would¡¯ve gotten anything but a few cutting boards and mixing bowls. I bet there¡¯s something else we¡¯re supposed to do with this. Check your Class Card for anything new?¡±

    He stares at me for a second, then nods vigorously and pulls out his Class Card. Notifications pop up as he opens it, and he swipes them all away while silently mouthing words to himself that I can¡¯t make out with my awareness. Until something stops him in his tracks. He frowns at it for a few seconds to read it, looks over at the door, and presses the hologram with an audible ¡®click¡¯.

    The circular door rolls into place and disappears without a trace. I feel a notification pop up in my Class Card, and Clutter turns to look at me expectantly.

    ¡°I locked the room to anyone but us. Just like I did with the tower.¡± He says slowly. ¡°Does that mean you¡¯re going to control what the room actually does now?¡±

    Let¡¯s see. I open my Class Card, and there it is. Another notification staring me in the face.

    Workshop

    Current Status: Uninitiated.

    Magical Draw: Negligible.

    Available Tower Magical Supply: Minimal.

    I raise an eyebrow at the status screen. Nothing looks like an option I have control over, but the word ¡®uninitiated¡¯ is underlined. Does that mean I can press on it? Only one way to find out, I guess.

    Workshop

    Current Status: Active.

    Magical Draw: Minimal.

    Available Tower Magical Supply: Empty.

    The room begins to hum, and the walls glow with luminescent grey magic. I raise an arm to shield my eyes from the blinding display, but through my awareness, I can feel the room shifting. Walls press inwards, the floor rises, and masses of material twist into shapes that are far more complicated than just a few glass tubes. And speaking of glass; more of it appears out of the table, but different parts of the room steal it away for their own purposes moments later.

    A trickle of running water tops it all off with a neat little bow. I open my eyes as the light fades, and a second later Clutter does the same. He doesn¡¯t gasp in amazement, since it still isn¡¯t¡­ well¡­ amazing, but it¡¯s leagues better than the nearly empty room we had a few seconds ago. Mostly empty shelves line the walls with burners and other lab equipment scarcely dotting them. One table turned into two, and a counter now edges the half of the room without the shelves. And just next to the door is a double-wide sink with a faucet with magic etchings that feel like cascading waterfalls.

    ¡°That¡¯s more like it.¡± Pearl says with a nod of satisfaction. ¡°There¡¯s space under the tabletops, too, with some equipment in there. One of them¡¯s for distilling magic, and the other¡¯s for making magical things. Too bad I can¡¯t see any furnaces¨Cthat¡¯d be convenient for making our own glassware.¡±

    ¡°Probably the reason they didn¡¯t give it to us.¡±

    She thinks for a second, then hums. ¡°You¡¯re probably right. The glass came from inside the walls somewhere, so there¡¯s a good chance it¡¯s a more precious resource than the stone stuff.¡±

    It¡¯s nowhere near as good as the shellraiser garage in the tunnels from¡­ months ago, now, but it¡¯s definitely a boon. As long as there¡¯s an analysis machine under one of the tables, we can actually get started on finding out what was in those construct heads. Maybe even put them to good use for us.

    ¡°Huh, why¡¯re there two taps here?¡± Clutter turns the water tap with a loud squeak. ¡°This one¡¯s water. Is the other one water, too?¡±

    ¡­Wait, two taps? That¡¯s weird; I only felt one in my awareness as it was being built. In fact, I can still only feel one right now. Slightly offset to one side of the double sink. I raise an eyebrow and turn just in time to watch Clutter turn the other tap, which looks just like the first in every conceivable way to the naked eye.

    It doesn¡¯t squeak. The chrrk-chrrk noise it makes as it turns reminds me of a ratchet, and for a few seconds, nothing comes out. Clutter frowns and knocks the tap with his knuckles a few times.

    ¡°Is it broken already?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°It¡¯s not even in my awareness. Maybe the quest made a mistake, and it isn¡¯t even fully here yet. We¡¯ve seen a bunch of phase things so far, so it wouldn¡¯t be that surp¨C¡±

    A bead of grey magic, like a single droplet of water coalescing on the end of the tap, shuts me the hell up. Clutter runs for a beaker before I can say anything, then nearly dives at the sink to get the thing under the tap before it falls into the drain below. It splatters against the bottom of the glass, sizzles like a drop of bacon grease, and stays there.

    At the same time, a warning message blares at me through my Class Card, and a popup forces itself into my vision.

    Warning: current magical draw exceeds tower capabilities.

    As base tower functions cannot be turned off, the magical flow to the Workshop is cut off until the tower¡¯s power has increased.

 Chapter 200: Escalation Without Notification

    I reach over and turn off the tap. The notification disappears, and a little orange triangle with an exclamation mark inside of it that I hadn¡¯t noticed goes with it.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have enough magic for this.¡± I explain when Clutter shoots me a look. ¡°No idea how we¡¯re supposed to get more, but apparently making the grey magic uses more than we have to spare.¡±

    Clutter frowns down at the drop of grey in the beaker. ¡°I thought this was going to be how we got more magic for the tower.¡±

    ¡°So did I.¡± Pearl agrees. ¡°Maybe we just have to wait for the root-vine-wire things to draw more magic from the walls. Or it¡¯s a reward for another part of the quest we haven¡¯t gotten to yet.¡±

    I shrug and look up at the ceiling. ¡°You still have the construct heads in your inventory, right?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Clutter confirms. ¡°Should we leave them in here now?¡±

    ¡°That and all the bodies. I¡¯ll go grab all of them while you find somewhere safe to put the heads.¡± I jump onto the table and press my hand against the ceiling. ¡°Pearl, you want to stay here and help him?¡±

    She purses her lips and looks back at Clutter. He¡¯s carefully taking the construct heads out of his inventory and placing them on one of the shelves with a little lip at the edge to stop them from rolling off. Until he stumbles over his own foot and almost throws a head directly into one of the walls. Luckily he manages to keep the glass from cracking, but the sound his ribs make when they slam against the floor combined with the wheeze of his breath leaving him gets a good wince of sympathy from me and Pearl.

    ¡°One of us definitely should.¡± She runs down my arm, then uses my pants to slide down to the table. ¡°I¡¯ll convince him to go back to the tower and sleep while you¡¯re gone, since it looks like the excitement with all this made him completely forget about how exhausted he really is.¡±

    I nod. ¡°Sounds good. I¡¯ll be back in a minute.¡±

    ¡°Take your time.¡± Pearl walks to the edge of the table, then turns back to me as Clutter groans on the ground. ¡°Make sure the room with doors isn¡¯t leaking radiation into the tower. If it is, you¡¯ll have to constantly purify or shield the entrance so it doesn¡¯t hurt us.¡±

    My Worth reserves shy away at her words, but it¡¯s gotta be done. I give her a thumbs up and twist my hand to open the door, completely expecting to appear outside of the tower. The inside of the room with doors greets me instead, and as I pull myself up, I can feel the magic in the room shifting ever so slightly. Almost like it¡¯s moving on its own.

    ¡°Weird.¡± I mutter to myself and open the door to the tower. Another little shift cuts through the magic, and the door opens effortlessly. ¡°I guess I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that the teleportation room can teleport, but if the quest is going through this much trouble to make sure we don¡¯t go outside¡­¡±

    I shake my head and close the door behind me as I trail off. Speculating on the radiation is pointless until I work up the courage to go outside and measure it. But there¡¯s no radiation in the tower as far as I can feel, so that¡¯s a good sign. I hurry up the stairs until I reach the top, then beeline for the stack of construct bodies. They disappear into my inventory as three separate batches, and before I go back down, I take a second to look out over the sprawling walls.

    Gusts of wind that look painted onto the world blow and shift through the city. Some of them collide with the walls and splatter into white-green stains, but they don¡¯t actually look like they do anything to the structure. Maybe if I stepped outside I¡¯d hear whistling winds and the screech of their strangely physical nature as they scrape against the walls, but from here, I feel perfectly safe. Which is honestly a testament to the quest; having somewhere to confidently rest and relax gives this entire ordeal a much more¡­ feasible outlook.

    Definitely the polar opposite of my first quest, that¡¯s for sure. I stand and watch the strange winds for a few minutes just enjoying the spectacle, but soon enough, I can¡¯t justify waiting around any longer. Clutter and Pearl are waiting for me, and the sooner I get back, the sooner we can start really researching the constructs. I turn to leave, but as I do, a flash of motion far off in the distance catches my eye.

    I stop in place and narrow my eyes at the place I¡¯m damn sure it happened. It was only for a fraction of a second, but I¡¯m damn sure there was something else way further down the walls. Definitely wasn¡¯t the painted-on wind, either, since my brain registered it as something out of place. Maybe it¡¯s an instinct I got from Pearl or Illumisia, but the more I focus on that momentary flash of motion, the more a twisting feeling takes hold of my gut.

    We know there are other people out there. Was it one of them, one of their spells¡­ or something else completely that the quest just released on the city? I clench my jaw as I stare out over the walls, uncertainty licking at the back of my mind like a rough tongue scraping away all the comfort the tower had managed to build up.

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    If there¡¯s even the smallest possibility that that¡¯s the other horizonguard¡­ then we need to be insanely careful. All of us. No leaving the tower except to go to the workshop. We always have to have a shield and a purification on us at all times just in case the horizonguard¡¯s spells are strong enough to pierce the tower¡¯s seeming invulnerability. I¡­ I¡¯m getting paranoid from the smallest flash of nothing in the distance.

    I shake my head and laugh. It comes out tense and pinched. That run-in with the plastic paindne must¡¯ve worn me out more than I thought; jumping straight to the worst-case scenario doesn¡¯t help us at all. Preparing for said worst case is a damn great idea, but assuming that it¡¯s the truth is dumb as hell and will only stifle our progress. I¡¯ll make some coin packages for us, and we¡¯ll have to keep an eye out, but that¡¯s it. Any more than that and we¡¯re just holing up in here waiting for the horizonguard to get whatever he came here for.

    Tap. Tap.

    Rhythmic noise pierces the window as clear and loud as if there were nothing magical about it. Unease worms its way into my heart as I turn back to the window, and my stomach drops at the sight of the¡­ thing that clings to it. A bloody stain, with cloth and flesh twisted together into a form that just shouldn¡¯t work. Arms made completely of interlocking fingers end in bony masses that cling to the window with divots of magic, and legs made of tattered clothes and ambiguous ¡®flesh¡¯ hang limply to blow in the physical breeze.

    I swallow hard as the thing brings its head back and violently slams it against the glass. Its elongated face crushes under the force of its own insistence, blood and teeth and spittle bursting free like chunks of porridge pushing through an old woolen sock someone slammed against a wall.

    Tap.

    That horrible impact makes the smallest, clearest noise. The thing rears its head back, the crushed flesh regenerating in the momentary lapse of action. Just looking at the thing sends shivers down my spine, but the fact that I can¡¯t tell if it used to be alive or if this is the quest using plastic for an absolutely disgusting facade¡­ I shake my head and force myself to look away. The uncertainty makes it infinitely worse.

    As sharp taps ring out, a question I really didn¡¯t want to consider pushes its way to the front of my mind. Two questions, actually, and neither of them paint kind pictures of the situation. The first; what if that thing is a result of the outside radiation? That¡¯d mean it was once a person, and now they¡¯re¡­ that. If there''s still a thinking brain in there, I can¡¯t imagine how much they must be suffering.

    Or¡­ what if that¡¯s what happens to us if our plastic jewelry is destroyed? I wouldn¡¯t put it past the system to do something so cruel.

    Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

    I grit my teeth and make for the stairs. Wondering about it won¡¯t do me any good. Hell, just being close enough to hear it is making me nauseous.

    Tap.

    The noise scrapes through the tower and down the stairs. My legs carry me down two at a time to try and get away faster.

    Tap. Taptap. Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptapptttatptpspaptp.

    Blurs of sound and discomfort split into a searing headache as my feet touch solid ground. I nearly pounce for the hexagonal door and rip it open, dive inside, and plant my hand on the ground. A circle splits the ground, and I jump in as my awareness warns me of the ¡®in-use¡¯ status of the table below.

    Pearl and Clutter¡¯s necks snap upwards the moment I fall through. Neither of them watch me fall, instead standing nearly transfixed as the sound of tapping flows into the workshop as clear as day.

    ¡°What is that?¡± Clutter whispers shakily. ¡°Is something watching us?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Pearl whispers back. ¡°What happened, Shelby? Is the tower safe?¡±

    I shake my head and slowly swing my legs over the edge of the table, only now taking in the instruments and samples the two of them have set up just inches from me. If my awareness hadn''t helped me land, I would¡¯ve destroyed at least something. The door flickers, and then the ceiling slides in place to seal us off.

    With bated breath, I wait. Pearl and Clutter, though they barely even heard the taps, stay silent right along with me. Five heartbeats. Ten. Thirty. Sixty. All silent. Absolutely no taps and no discomfort. Just a cold sweat, adrenaline racing through my veins, and a sensation like I just escaped something that was going to kill me.

    It was¡­ somehow¡­ worse than it was with the stain. We all stand here in silence, nobody quite understanding what to say, until my heart¡¯s finally beating quietly enough that I can hear myself think.

    ¡°That had to be magic. Some kind of a¡­ psychic¡¯s spell, or the quest making us wary of spending time in the tower.¡± I clench and unclench my hands so I¡¯m not just sitting still, then gesture for Pearl to run up my arm. ¡°Illumisia controlled us with that psychic without us even realizing. The stain had some weak influence related to our Class Cards. That has to be what this is, right? Just the quest testing us, or someone else here screwing with us, right?¡±

    I must sound desperate, because Pearl tenderly pats my palm before she slowly crawls up my arm. When she reaches my head, she gently strokes the side of my ear with a genuine, worried smile.

    ¡°We¡¯ll find out together.¡± She assures me, then turns to Clutter, who looks shaken but not terrified. ¡°The tower is off limits for the next few hours. When everyone¡¯s rested and rejuvenated, we¡¯ll go see what terrified Shelby. Can you¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ divert the tower¡¯s rejuvenating powers to this place?¡±

    He slowly shakes his head. ¡°That¡¯s her, not me. Are you¡­ are you okay? Can I do anything to help?¡±

    ¡°I must look way worse than I feel if the two of you are this concerned.¡± I chuckle halfheartedly. ¡°But¡­ I think so. Thanks.¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°Anything that gets you this shaken is a real threat. Do you think you can describe it, then maybe we can help a little?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I sure as hell can¡¯t do it justice.¡±

 Chapter 201: Tap

    Faces twist in confusion as I describe what just happened. Clutter stays sympathetic through the entire thing, patting me on the shoulder and assuring me that I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s a damn nice gesture, and it definitely helps take the edge off. Pearl, however, starts listening in a different way once I get to the tapping. Her sympathy blossoms to flat-out worry, and that worry gets laced with morbid curiosity as I finish.

    I raise an eyebrow at her. ¡°You think it¡¯s a spell?¡±

    She slowly nods. ¡°Definitely. But¡­ is it the same kind of spell that the quest used to warn us about the hallway? Is this some kind of warning, too?¡±

    ¡°What? A warning for what?¡± Clutter asks nervously. ¡°We already know about the radiation outside. Is there anything else out there we have to worry about?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Maybe not.¡± Pearl drums her fingers against her forearm as a frown traces across her face. ¡°I can¡¯t think of any reason there¡¯d be a monster who can specifically put sound through a near impenetrable magical barrier, unless it was to mind control you. But it just made you feel horrible and run away. There¡¯s absolutely no reason to do that if it could completely control you and¡­ well¡­ make you do anything.¡±

    She shrugs. ¡°If it wanted you to die, it could make you kill yourself. If it wanted into the tower, it could¡¯ve had you open your Class Card. If it scared you and made you leave, that has to be the exact thing it wanted you to do. But why?¡±

    Her question lingers like the last plume of campfire smoke on a cold night. And she¡¯s completely right. Illumisia proved that I¡¯m not immune to really powerful psychic abilities, and if I¡¯m even slightly influenced by them, then they¡¯re damn powerful. Otherwise my awareness would let me react before anything hit me.

    ¡°There¡¯s one more question we have to ask.¡± I clasp my hands together and lock eyes with Clutter. ¡°Who sent that thing? Was it the quest or someone else?¡±

    Clutter¡¯s eyes widen and he looks around as if I could be talking to anyone but him. ¡°You think I¡¯d know the answer to that?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°No. But I want your input.¡±

    ¡°...Oh. I¡­ okay.¡± He swallows hard and puffs out his chest. ¡°Before I say anything I want to feel it for myself. Which means I¡­ um¡­ I¡­ want to go up there. Can the two of you come with me?¡±

    Pearl nods instantly. I hesitate a little, but I¡¯ll be damned if I¡¯m going to let Clutter face that horrible sensation alone. Even though¡­ he is the scout. He¡¯s the one that really has to be resilient to this kind of thing. Though I don¡¯t know any way for him to do that other than spells or stats.

    ¡°Shelby?¡± Pearl whispers. ¡°Say something.¡±

    I blink, then look up at Clutter. ¡°Right. Sorry. Yeah, of course we¡¯ll go with you.¡±

    He sighs in relief as his legs start to tremble. Wordlessly he nods, gets up on the table, and shakily raises his hand to the ceiling. Absolutely nothing leaks through, so we don¡¯t know if the thing on the glass is still there. My heart tells me that it is¨Cthat whatever put it there wants us out of the tower for some reason¨Cbut my head says one scare could be enough. And the rest of me wants to tackle Clutter to the ground to stop him from opening the ceiling.

    A sneer pulls at my lips as I focus on the sensation of fear. It¡¯s so¡­ unnatural. I know it¡¯s planted in there by whatever¡¯s in control of the monster, but that doesn¡¯t make it any less real. There¡¯s something or someone behind the monster. That fact alone unsettles me to no end. Everything in me screams to stop Clutter from opening that door. Finally, I take out a purification coin and crush it at my feet.

    Clouds of salty magic wash over me. I breathe deeply, focused entirely on the magic etching itself into the ceiling. It¡¯s going to be fine. We¡¯re going to get a second and third opinion, then work from there. The door pushes upwards, slides to the side¨C

    TAP.

    The sound echoes through my brain like a gunshot. I physically flinch backwards and snap my hands to cover my ears as purification does absolutely nothing to stop it. My heart thunders in my chest, my blood boils and freezes at the same time, and everything focus down to a single pinprick of noise.

    TapTap.

    Two quick taps this time. Almost desperate sounding. The disquiet and terror they send down my spine feels second-hand; almost like I¡¯m listening to a psycho give someone I know an amateur icepick lobotomy. I feel Pearl¡¯s hand smack against my skin, and even though I can''t focus on her, I know she¡¯s there. Words leave her, and even though I hear them, they don¡¯t actually reach me.

    Yet somehow, I know Clutter¡¯s gone up. So I grit my teeth, push through the horrible sensations, and jump up to grab the lip. I quickly throw my entire body up, whip my head in every direction to find him, and come up empty. But the door to the tower is open. I scramble to my feet and dash out the door, up the stairs, and into the room at the top in a haze of adrenaline and terror.

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    Waiting for me at the window is Clutter. He stands at it, staring at a wall of flesh and cloth as if he can see through it for miles. His hands are clenched at his sides, claws digging deep enough to draw generous trickles of blood. My awareness sees his face, but there¡¯s¡­ no fear on it. No discomfort, either.

    Just radiant, all-consuming rage.

    TAPTAPTAPTAPTAP.

    Dozens of bodies slam their heads against the glass in a haunting, macabre rhythm. It sounds like utter noise, but I can hear each one. Each individual splatter, crunch, and reverberation. There¡¯s no walls to be seen through the mass of bodies. Only sickly blood, flesh, and tattered cloth.

    Pearl gasps. She smacks the side of my face over and over again, and eventually I get that she wants me to get closer. My brain can barely work through the cacophonous noise and terror, but my body gets the message and moves. Clutter turns as if my footsteps are louder than the tapping, his eyes wet with tears and his mouth pulled back into a hateful snarl that comes from somewhere deeper than his heart. Somewhere far more¡­ primal.

    He throws an accusatory hand at the window. Shouts something. The tears flow faster, faster, more, more, until he¡¯s staining his shirt with his emotions. His arm trembles as blood drips onto the floor. Pearl says something back. Her voice is tiny, quiet, and unfathomably sad. I stare, unhearing and barely feeling, as Clutter¡¯s rage dulls, and his sneer turns into a heavy sob. His chest heaves and his eyes squint as more tears flow freely.

    Pearl slides down my arm and scurries over to his leg. He falls to his knees, arms lolling bonelessly against the ground, as he sobs and bawls uncontrollably. She touches her cheek against his hand. All it does is make him cry harder.

    TAP.Tap.Tap.Tap.tap.

    Slowly, surely, the taps hit my heart softer and softer. Thundering impacts fall to deep beats, which eventually give way to mournful taps like a branch against the window of an abandoned house. My breaths come easier. The tunnel my vision worked itself into gradually expands until I can actually take in the scene, and when I do, I wish I hadn¡¯t.

    The things on the window aren¡¯t formless atrocities. They aren¡¯t splattering nondescript ¡®heads¡¯ against the glass. They¡¯re faces. Barely discernible through the mess they¡¯ve made of themselves, but regenerating just enough after each impact that there¡¯s still teeth, bone, blood and spittle to go flying with each headbutt. Not just any teeth.

    Shark teeth.

    Each of the forms is a paindne. Twisted in countless different forms of death, yet all still recognizable as Clutter¡¯s people. A different kind of disgust blossoms in my stomach, and it¡¯s joined by an overwhelming sense of confusion.

    ¡°Pearl¡­¡± I say through a dry, quiet mouth. ¡°What are we looking at?¡±

    She turns to me, old grief resonating through her as she gently comforts Clutter. I recognize it immediately as the same emotion from when we found that first¨Cand only so far¨Ccrystallized shellraiser.

    ¡°Death.¡± She states. ¡°Far too much death.¡±

    A sob rips its way free of Clutter¡¯s chest, and I hurry to kneel at his side. Pearl nods at me for some reason, but that doesn¡¯t matter. I pull Clutter into a hug, his trembling form so weak and fragile in my arms. As if one word could shatter him completely.

    So I say nothing. He wails into my arms, staining my shirt with blood and snot and tears and trauma that I knew absolutely nothing about. Slowly, something pricks at my memories like an insistent splinter. I¡¯ve only seen Clutter this¡­ unraveled¡­ once before. With the tree. At the graveyard. I¡¯d have to be a damn idiot to think this and that aren¡¯t connected in the slightest.

    For a moment, I remember what it was like to be not-dead on this world. The nice-ish room, the peeling wallpaper, how¡­ normal but not normal it felt. And that note. If it wasn¡¯t for Pearl and Illumisia, I wouldn¡¯t have seen that. I¡¯d just be a frozen corpse, and some other poor sap would have the Gambler coin.

    If I¡¯m right¡­ and these are actually dead paindne¡­ then what the hell did I see before? Were they phased out, and those¡­ things¡­ were in their place? Is that even possible? Is this the quest¡¯s twisted way of warning us, or did the horizonguard already kill twenty paindne just to send a message?

    As Clutter trembles in my arms, it slowly dawns on me that it doesn¡¯t matter. Whether it¡¯s the quest or the horizonguard or something else completely, it doesn¡¯t matter. My friend is in shambles because of this. He comes before looking for the bastard that did it.

    I hug him a little tighter. He tenses for a second, but melts into my embrace as his sobs grow quieter and his eyes start to close. Exhaustion and emotion take him over in a matter of minutes, and quiet, rhythmic breaths herald him to sleep. I gently lie him down on the floor, take off my jacket for him to use as a pillow, and turn to finally focus on the window. Now that the taps aren¡¯t scything through my brain and killing off rational thought, it¡¯s just¡­ gruesome.

    Gruesome and horrendously sad.

    Pearl walks up to me and grabs my finger. I nod absentmindedly and lower the rest of my hand for her to climb me like a tree, and after some squelchy footsteps, she¡¯s right back on my shoulder. We sit silently, staring at a display of pointless violence and death. Somehow, it feels¡­ right. No matter how messed up that is, the fact that I¡¯m here¨Cand she¡¯s right here with me¨Cfeels like the place we¡¯re supposed to be.

    ¡°I wish Illumisia and Fleur were here.¡± She says wistfully. ¡°I miss their voices.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°I miss them too. Now that he¡¯s asleep¡­ do you have any idea what this is?¡±

    It¡¯s her turn to nod solemnly. ¡°I felt them change, Shelby. I felt when Clutter looked at them, and they saw¡­ themselves. A reminder of what they used to be. This quest is meant for paindne. I¡¯m ninety-nine percent sure of it.¡±

 Chapter 202: While The Shark-Wolf Rests

    A quest for paindne. That could mean a thousand different things. But they all wrap back around to the three ¡®leads¡¯ Clutter found. The jewelry store¨Crun by Paindne. The graveyard¨Cfeared by Paindne. I¡¯m not sure how the farm factors into it, but it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if the people who owned it¨Cor something to do with ¡®phasing¡¯ itself¨Cturned out to be paindne-centric. Add in the rock full of plastic that was found at a paindne gathering spot, taken by paindne to be studied¡­

    Yeah, it all adds up a little too well. Scooch even lived in Denmary, which further solidifies the assumption. Hell, maybe Well himself is a mind controlled paindne. Makes me wonder what all the other entrances are¨Cand if every group that found one has at least one Paindne member.

    ¡°So this is a quest for paindne.¡± I gently brush my fingers over Clutter¡¯s cheek. He feels like a little kid that I just want to protect. Maybe that¡¯s the Illumisia in me. ¡°What does that mean? Are we the only two non-paindne in here? Was there a hidden requirement for each group to have a paindne in it if they wanted to get in? Is that why the horizonguard wanted Clamber¡¯s dad?¡±

    Pearl sighs and leans against my neck. ¡°Good questions. I don¡¯t have the answers to any of them. There¡¯s the chance that I¡¯m missing something, and this is a quest about paindne, not for them, but to us, that¡¯s just semantics. Clutter¡¯s the one it would matter for.¡±

    I glance down at Clutter, who is completely out of it, his rhythmic breathing far too peaceful for what we just saw. Maybe the tower helps you sleep, too. Slowly I back away to let him sleep, quietly get to my feet, and nod at the window.

    ¡°Is it safe to leave him here alone?¡±

    Pearl frowns in concentration, then slowly nods. ¡°I think so. Whatever those paindne were before Clutter saw them was way more dangerous than what they are now. Should we leave him a note?¡±

    ¡°I would, but¡­¡± I spread my hands to show the nothing I have. ¡°Nothing to write with. If he wakes up he¡¯ll see my jacket, and hopefully that¡¯ll be enough. As long as he doesn¡¯t jump to conclusions and think we ran off without him.¡±

    ¡°I hope he trusts us at least that much.¡± Pearl sighs and looks over at me. ¡°If those things are the level of enemy we¡¯re going to face from now on, Shelby, you need to get stronger fast. Like, really fast.¡±

    I grunt in agreement as I make my way down the steps. ¡°If you¡¯ve got any suggestions, I¡¯m all ears. Otherwise we¡¯re stuck with the pills and my dwindling stash of Worth¨Cwhich I¡¯ve already pretty much hit the limit on.¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°Noland said the diminishing returns are workable until it hits ten Worth. You¡¯ve only used at most five Worth coins up until now. And you haven¡¯t dipped into the next level of high stakes¡¯ odds yet. Or found the threshold skills for your other stats. There are ways to get stronger.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but all of them need one very specific thing.¡± I rub my thumb and two forefingers together, and a coin appears between them. ¡°Cold, hard Worth. I¡¯m almost out of the stuff I got from the krarig. That¡¯s our bottleneck.¡±

    Even though she obviously has more to say, Pearl reluctantly nods in agreement. She drums her fingers against her chin until we get back into the lab, and when I go for the heads Clutter put on the shelves, she still doesn¡¯t say anything. I pick one of each¨Csome of which we have more than others¨Cand bring them over to an instrument that looks like a microscope attached to a see-through vacuum canister with a foot-long rubber tube on it.

    I pull out my Class Card, but before I can even try to identify it, a popup appears with instructions.

    Isolation Chamber.

    Current Attachment: Magical-spec Microscope.

    Connect your container to the hose, then use the attached mana control panel to input commands.

    Warning: this device drains mana at a (low-medium) rate, depending on the items contained within the chamber. If it loses a mana connection while working, the following risks apply.

    Detonation.

    Total Personal Obliteration.

    Permanent Befuddlement.

    Magical Allergies.

    Severe Magical Allergies.

    Fatal Magical Allergies.

    ¡­

    The list goes on for at least three scrolls down, but it got the idea across at ¡®total personal obliteration¡¯. I lower my Class Card and study the thing, looking for the control panel that the instructions said there would be. Nothing instantly jumps out at me, but after a thorough look with my awareness, I find a little switch and knob at the back of the isolation chamber. The switch is labeled ¡®on/off¡¯, and the knob is numbered from 0-100. Not sure why they need a knob if there¡¯s a control panel, but whatever. I flick the switch, then slowly turn the knob up to five.

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    A magical hologram barely flickers into existence. It¡¯s barely as big as a graham cracker, hovers half a foot away from the chamber, and is littered with symbols that I barely recognize as the language of this world. I frown at it and twist the knob further, and the panel grows in turn with the increase in numbers. Doesn¡¯t help with the fact that I can¡¯t read it at all, but at least I can see the different buttons and prompts clearly now.

    ¡°Hey, Pearl.¡± I roll my shoulder to get her attention. ¡°Your turn.¡±

    She blinks absentmindedly, then shakes her head and smacks her cheeks with her palms. I raise an eyebrow at the motion, and she returns a sheepish grin.

    ¡°I got lost in my thoughts. What¡¯re we looking at here? Oh, nevermind, the panel says everything.¡± Pearl scurries down my arm, grabbing the panel with one hand on the way down, and twists the hologram so it¡¯s right in front of where she stands on the table. ¡°Let¡¯s see here¡­ alright, it says we can safely transfer anything we put in here back to its original container as long as we don¡¯t disconnect the hose. And it needs mana, so that part¡¯s on me. Which colour do you want to start with?¡±

    I look over at the four options we have. The red stands out as the worst idea, since if things go wrong they¡¯ll go really wrong, but any of the others should be fine. Might as well start with one of the ones we¡¯ve got spares of, too, so that narrows it down to blue and yellow. I¡¯d flip a coin to choose, but after the way my skill found this quest, I¡¯m not eager to do that again.

    ¡°Here.¡± I grab a blue sphere and press the hose to it. A weak suction connects rubber to glass. ¡°Anything you need me to do?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head as she taps on the oversized for her control panel. ¡°All good here. I just press this button, and we¡¯re good!¡±

    With the tap of a key, magic rumbles to life in the chamber. It feels simple, yet directed¨Ca machine made to do one thing, and to do that one thing without any errors at all. If that long list of dangers is anything to go by, there¡¯d be disastrous consequences if it wasn¡¯t good at its function.

    ¡°Ooh, that tickles.¡± Pearl giggles as the machine takes her mana. ¡°Greedy little thing; I¡¯m not your battery. Shelby, take a look through the microscope. See if there¡¯s anything weird about the magic, then switch it to a scanner.¡±

    I nod and carefully set down the sphere, watch it for a second in case it rolls away, then make my way to the eyepiece. The thing looks like any normal microscope I¡¯d see back on Earth, but I won¡¯t let that surprise me when it does something weird. I loosen my shoulders, close my left eye, and lean down to see through the glass.

    For a moment, all I see is a blue blur. Then everything shifts, becoming crystal-clear in the blink of an eye. A very disorienting blink of an eye. I swallow down the nausea and focus on the magic¨Cwhich looks¡­ like a liquid. Nothing dissolved in it, no particles, and barely even a sheen. Just the base colour and nothing more.

    ¡°Can¡¯t see anything but the colour.¡± I relay to Pearl without looking up. ¡°Does that line up with what you found with Clutter?¡±

    ¡°Mmhm. We¡¯re dealing with pure liquid magic, and now I¡¯m completely sure of it.¡± She waves at the back of the microscope where it snaps onto the chamber. ¡°The scanner looks like it has two metal rods that¡¯ll rotate around the chamber. It¡¯s on the counter right there.¡±

    I look up from the microscope and follow her hand to the back of the chamber. There¡¯s no scanner there, but she obviously wants me to remove the microscope first. A reach around to undo some clamps and a snap-in metal bit easily gets it off, and then Pearl shifts to point at something further down the counter. A thing with an arm connected to two metal rods. I lean over the chamber to grab it, snap it on, and position the rods around the chamber.

    It takes all of thirty seconds. Once it¡¯s in place I lean away, nod down at it, then turn to Pearl. ¡°All good?¡±

    She nods back. ¡°It¡¯s connected to the panel, so it better be. You might want to take a step back¨CI don¡¯t know how far out the rods are going to extend.¡±

    As she speaks she, too, backs away a good two feet from the chamber. I follow her example and put about the same distance between me and the thing. Then I look between her and the device, reconsider slightly, and move to stand right next to her. She inclines her chin at me with a smile, presses a few buttons, and the scanner¡¯s arms start to turn around the chamber. Slowly at first, but with every passing second, they pick up a damn good amount of speed. Until even my enhanced eyes only see a blur, and my awareness struggles to pick up the individual arms.

    ¡°It¡¯s saying we¡¯ve got magic in there. Very observant.¡± Pearl giggles and taps a few more buttons. ¡°It means it¡¯s working, though, so we¡¯re on the right track. Give it a second to work, and¡­ oop! Something¡¯s already coming in! And it¡¯s giving me the option to send it to both your and Clutter¡¯s Class Cards, so I¡¯ll do that!¡±

    She swipes her hand across the panel and extends the motion into a point directly at me. We stand there in silence. Her excited expression slowly turns to embarrassment, her cheeks brightening every second that the notification we¡¯re waiting for doesn¡¯t come.

    ¡°Um, did I do something¨C¡± My Class Card chimes, cutting Pearl off. She startles and takes a step backwards, then pouts adorably and crosses her arms. ¡°It was waiting for me. There¡¯s no way it wasn¡¯t. Stupid system.¡±

    I chuckle, but honestly, that¡¯s the kind of petty shit I bet the system would do. It can¡¯t directly stop things from happening, but it can delay them for just long enough to be awkward. Or make us second guess ourselves. I whip out my Class Card, make a show of swiping my notifications, then turn it so Pearl can read it too.

    Activated Basic Magic: Blue.

    The magic of resilience.

    Basic magics are magical catalysts that react with their associated devices or spells, and do not have any effects of their own until activated as such.

    This magic has been activated by a basic construct, and will take a shape that protects the construct if destroyed.

    ¡­

    To deactivate this magic, you will need something you do not have.

    Seek out oddities within the city, such as the one that granted you this Workshop, to find a way to deactivate it.

 Chapter 203: We Need To Go Further

    In the end, we¡¯re going to have to keep exploring if we want anything. This feels deliberate; give us a room with barely any of the functions available to us, get us excited to see what it can do, and then pull the rug out from under our feet. I shake my head as Pearl sends the blue back into its container, pull it off, and replace it with another colour. We repeat the process until we¡¯ve scanned all the colours, each of which is ninety percent the same description as the others, save for the little blurb under each.

    Blue is resilience. Yellow is regeneration, red is destruction, and green is amplification. None of them go into more detail about those one word explanations, but when I combine them with the knowledge of how the construct heads detonated, I can paint a fairly complete mental picture. One that¡¯s pretty much useless right now, but it feels nice to shed a little light on one mystery.

    Though it leaves one question unsolved. ¡°What the hell is grey magic, then?¡±

    Pearl shrugs as she flicks the switch to turn off the panel. ¡°I would¡¯ve said ¡®everything¡¯, but maybe¡­ manipulation? Or it could be a magic without any kind of tint, so it¡¯s perfect for powering things. We¡¯ll have more of it to actually test once we get more magic for the tower, so let¡¯s just wait until we have a real answer.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow as she walks up to me and motions for me to pick her up. ¡°Did using the control panel take it out of you?¡±

    ¡°A little. Maybe I just want to be held.¡± Pearl flexes her fingers in a grasping motion. ¡°I¡¯ve been apart from you today more than¡­ since we met, I think. Now I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t like it.¡±

    ¡°Aw, love you too.¡± I reach down and make a little palm platform for Pearl to step on, then raise her to my shoulder. ¡°So what do you want to do now? We could find something to analyze the construct bodies; the popup did allude to them somehow activating the magic.¡±

    She nuzzles into the corner of my neck and pulls her legs up so she can hold them with her arms. With a happy sigh, she looks over at the pile of construct bodies and silently thinks to herself.

    ¡°We know they¡¯re transportation constructs, so the magic must be activated because of that¨Cand specifically to make sure the constructs get wherever they¡¯re going. But I doubt the person the magic is being delivered to wants the kind that the constructs have, so they¡¯ve gotta have something to undo it.¡± She glances at me with half-lidded, tired eyes, and yawns. ¡°If we can reactivate one of them and get it to go to where it was initially supposed to, not attack the tower, we could follow it.¡±

    I nod along to her suggestion. ¡°Good call. Do you have any idea how to reprogram or¡­ deprogram these things?¡±

    She shakes her head. ¡°Not right now, but I could probably figure it out. Should we try to think of a way that anyone could do, though? Because that¡¯s probably the ¡®right¡¯ way to do it.¡±

    ¡°Eh.¡± I shrug and motion at the machines. ¡°One of these will work. Or maybe I can reprogram them in my inventory. I¡¯ll give it a shot while you take a good long nap to recover.¡±

    ¡°But I already took one today.¡± She grumbles, but doesn¡¯t push too hard. ¡°You¡¯re sure you can do it on your own? I can work through the sleepiness if you need me to.¡±

    ¡°Nope; you and Clutter just rest and relax. I¡¯ll go back to the tower when I¡¯m done here, take another quick nap, and then we¡¯ll go back to the plastic paindne to keep exploring.¡± I smile and reach up to pat Pearl¡¯s head. ¡°You just make sure you¡¯re in prime condition to help me with whatever the quest can throw at us.¡±

    ¡°Mmh. Okay.¡± She says as her eyes close a little more, and she climbs into her shell. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything pointlessly dangerous.¡±

    I shake my head with a dry chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of that for one day, don¡¯t you worry about that.¡±

    She stares at me for a second like she doesn¡¯t believe me, but eventually turns away to lie down on what I assume is a bed. Her expressive eyes watch me for a few seconds as they slowly close, and before thirty seconds can pass, she¡¯s off to dreamland. I roll my shoulder and look around the room once more, lingering on the machines and the construct corpses for a little longer than everything else.

    I go for one of the majority constructs first; one that doesn¡¯t even chip. Doesn¡¯t matter which one I take, so I grab a random one and bring it over to the table. Without Pearl here I can¡¯t actually run any of the machines, but I can try a few things and identify some parts for later. I¡¯m not sure how much later it¡¯s going to be, but I¡¯m pretty sure that Clutter¡¯s going to be out for at least a little while.

    The construct disappears into my inventory, and I tap on its square to get started.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    <hr>

    Close to three hours later, I¡¯ve got the start of what I¡¯d call a lead. It wasn¡¯t hard work to access my inventory and swap between my map and the construct body over and over again, watching it react every time I touch the thing, but decoding what each jerk and twitch means is even now a work in progress.

    All I can say for sure is that a tap inside of the tower¡¯s radius gets an aggressive lurch out of the thing. Working from the assumption that said lurch is the command the quest gave it to attack the tower, I started tapping everywhere else I could think of on the map to try and get other twitches out of it. At first I thought it just spasmed no matter what, but there¡¯s a slightly different reaction depending on which direction I tap.

    Northwards, its limbs tense up for a split second before the spasm. East starts with a weaker series of twitches that works up into a full-blown spasm. South goes full-blast from the get-go, and west has a slight delay before anything happens at all. I have absolutely no idea what any of them mean, but it definitely has something to do with whatever lies in those directions.

    I groan as I stretch my arms above my head, a page of scribbled notes staring back at me from my Class Card. Something tells me that grey magic is the key to this, too, and that filling one of the construct heads with the stuff will force it to do¡­ something. Maybe return to sender, or go to its last designated location before the quest took them over.

    ¡®Course I don¡¯t have any proof of that. Don¡¯t even have proof that these things have other destinations programmed into them, or that the quest didn''t just make them for the sake of making them. I even ran the exact same tests on the more brittle ones, and they reacted exactly the same way. No difference at all. There¡¯s got to be a secret there, but I have no idea how to get at it.

    I lean on my elbow, cheek in my palm, and nudge the construct with my other hand. Right now it just feels like we¡¯re running around in the dark with absolutely no direction. Is this what the quest wants us to do? Are other people making real progress while we¡¯re stuck here wondering about the first enemy that attacked us?

    The dim light of my Class Card glows constantly, almost mockingly, against the unnatural lighting. All the current objective provides is a cryptic hint about moving forward. I really want to find something¨Canything¨Cconcrete to go by. A treasure to hunt, or an ancient ruin to explore, or a temple to defend from an onslaught. Not whatever bullshit the quest expects of us right now.

    ¡°Guess there¡¯s nothing to do but explore.¡± I say to myself and send the construct body to my inventory. ¡°Until we find something, we¡¯ll just be running around in circles from one dead end to another.¡±

    I climb onto the table, open a doorway, and pull myself into the tower. No horrible tapping meets my ears, but the air is starting to smell¡­ stale. The tower will probably switch to air intake sooner rather than later, though if everything goes the way I want it to, we won¡¯t be here by then. Which probably means I¡¯ll have to manually change it, or else we¡¯ll come back to this. I make a mental note to do just that as I climb the stairs, my awareness soaking over the scenery until it reaches Clutter¡¯s sleeping form. In exactly the same position we left him.

    Pearl stirs before I reach the top, rolls over in her bed, and blinks lazily. ¡°Is it time?¡±

    ¡°As long as Clutter¡¯s up.¡±

    ¡°Mrgh.¡± She says with a nod. ¡°Then it¡¯s time. Your footsteps are waking him up.¡±

    Clutter slowly sits up as I poke my head into the room at the top of the tower, rubs his eyes, and lets out a titanic yawn. I spare a glance at the window, which has completely cleared up, but dark stains on the wall serve as a reminder of what was there just a few hours ago. At least the wind¡¯s gone down¨Cand now the gusts just sit on the wall like discarded cardboard cutouts.

    ¡°I feel better.¡± He hastily says before I can get anything out. ¡°You don¡¯t need to leave me behind.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t plan on it.¡± I motion at the window. ¡°Do you want to talk about¡­ them?¡±

    His eyes follow my motion, and he laughs weakly. ¡°Nope. Not at all. Did anything else happen while I was asleep?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Not much. We got confirmation that the magic is tainted by the construct bodies, and that they¡¯re all actually different, but nothing really new. So we¡¯re back to running down the halls and hoping that something sticks out.¡±

    He groans and covers his eyes with his palm. ¡°I hate that plan. You¡¯re sure there¡¯s nothing else we can try? Something with¡­ less of a chance to almost kill us?¡±

    ¡°Nope; we need grey magic and more power for the tower. Once we¡¯ve got one of the two, then we can try something else. Until then, it¡¯s running time.¡±

    ¡°Aw.¡±

    I snort out a laugh and offer him a hand. ¡°I¡¯m right there with you, buddy.¡±

    He accepts it with a small smile, and I pull him to his feet. My coat tags along thanks to his other hand, and he offers it to me with an even smaller smile.

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    I accept the jacket and shrug into it. ¡°No problem at all. Too bad we don¡¯t really have any pillows, though. Would¡¯ve made all this sleeping we¡¯re doing a little more comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Comfortable.¡± He repeats with a yawn. ¡°Is she up too?¡±

    Pearl pops her head out of her shell and waves. Clutter nods as much to her as to himself, and makes his way to the stairs as he scratches a claw along his gum line. There¡¯s a little black stain there, but it flecks away from a little pressure, so it must¡¯ve been the remnant of the last thing we ate before we came here.

    We quickly descend the stairs, open the door to the room with doors, and stop before the door that leads to the plastic paindne. That place is blatantly different from our own section of the walls, so it¡¯s the best place to keep looking for¡­ well¡­ anything, I guess.

    As long as something doesn¡¯t find us first.

 Chapter 204: Directionless

    The door to the plastic paindne opens with a dull, thrumming magic. Plastic spins into the construct¡¯s shape the moment my awareness seeps through, and it turns to us with an absolutely emotionless visage.

    ¡°Hello again. Is there anything¨C¡±

    ¡°Bye.¡± Clutter waves as he jogs through the room and into the halls. ¡°I hate you!¡±

    I chuckle and shake my head, then give the construct a salute as I, too, run past it. The thing follows me with its eyes, nothing at all showing on its face or in its body language, and as I walk through the threshold of room to tunnel it unravels into plastic threads. Looks like it doesn¡¯t have the ability to feel anything.

    ¡°So what¡¯re we looking for now?¡± Clutter looks over his shoulder at me as I approach. ¡°Just another one of those panel-things?¡±

    ¡°As far as I know, yeah.¡± I nod. ¡°Until the quest tells us otherwise, we¡¯re just flying blind. Feels wrong on so many levels, though.¡±

    Pearl grabs onto my collar as we speed up. ¡°Something tells me we¡¯re still waiting for the real stuff to go down. Like with those paindne¡­ things from before. Things are progressing, but not to the point that the quest feels like it has to give out a new objective.¡±

    ¡°Most quests don¡¯t ¡®feel¡¯ like they have to do anything.¡± Clutter grumbles. ¡°Why¡¯d we have to find the only one with an actual, living administrator?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°How many quests have you done?¡±

    He slightly tilts his head to the side, then murmurs as he ticks off quests on his fingers. It doesn¡¯t slow him down even a little.

    ¡°Um¡­ I¡¯ve actually done two big quests like this, but neither teleported me anywhere.¡± He folds down two fingers, leaving up six. ¡°The other six were small things; like the tree asking us to destroy the plastic pile. Those are way more common than the big ones.¡±

    Hm. That¡¯s¡­ both more and less than I thought he¡¯d done. But he¡¯s still pretty low clearance, especially if he¡¯s been doing this for years, so they must not¡¯ve been worth all that much. Not like the quest that almost killed me down in those tunnels gave me much of anything for my troubles.

    ¡°Shit, speaking of.¡± I click my tongue and raise a coin. ¡°I¡¯m starting to run close-ish to low on Worth. Can¡¯t remember if I already told you that.¡±

    Clutter¡¯s eyebrows shoot to his forehead. ¡°Oh, no! How much do you have left? A thousand?¡±

    I snort and shake my head. ¡°Hundreds. And if all we¡¯re going to get is a few hundred-Worth infusions during this quest, I¡¯ll have to be really miserly with what I¡¯ve got left.¡±

    ¡°Which means that I¡­¡± Clutter pales and gulps. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to start fighting.¡±

    ¡°Or we avoid fights altogether. Not great for rewards, I know, but¡­ well¡­¡± I sigh and shake my head. ¡°Nevermind, that¡¯s probably impossible. Especially if we want to keep improving the tower. So, yeah, you¡¯re going to be on simple fight duty, and I¡¯m going to save as much Worth as I can.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t just give you coins?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Not how it works.¡±

    ¡°Dang it.¡± He whimpers. ¡°I hoped it would.¡±

    ¡°Hey, if that¡¯s how it worked, I¡¯d just have the other Worth classes load me up with ammo and never have to worry about it again. But that¡¯s not how the system drew it up.¡± I shrug nonchalantly. ¡°Nothing we can do about it, so we¡¯ve got to try different things. If something pops up that I can completely destroy, then I might be able to make some profit off that, but it has to be worth something in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Urgh. I¡¯ll start coaching myself, then.¡± Clutter shudders and balls his fists. ¡°Um, you should be ready to run really hard whenever I fight. Just in case I lose horribly and have to go invisible just to survive.¡±

    I almost start to say something sarcastic, but the genuine worry and nerves on Clutter¡¯s face stop me before I can say anything. Obviously he¡¯s still got that trauma. Saying anything now could leave him with the wrong idea in so many ways, so I shut my mouth and nod seriously. A little relief muddles the worry, but it doesn¡¯t really change anything.

    Especially not in the face of the unknown.

    <hr>

    We jog. Nothing but the same walls comes out to greet us, and the general vibe of the area doesn''t change one bit. I pull out my Class Card a few times to see if there¡¯s still magical leech cannons aimed at us, and sure enough, three little squirming projectiles screech out of nowhere to dissuade me from checking anything.

    It feels like hours pass at both a breakneck pace and the slowest, most excruciating clock-watching anguish I¡¯ve ever felt. My mind¡¯s constantly watching every corner¨Cevery shadow¨Cfor more of those things that turned into paindne, so I can¡¯t get into a groove and just jog without a care. Neither can Clutter, from how he keeps whipping his head around like he¡¯s trying to catch a glimpse of a stalker with freakishly good reflexes. And Pearl¡­ well she fell asleep a few hours back and is still snoozing away with her goopy body connected to my neck and jacket.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°Nothing, nothing, and more nothing.¡± Clutter mutters in high-strung frustration. ¡°No monsters, no hints, nothing at all! Are we even running down the right level of this place? Should we just¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ randomly go left, right, up, or down every ten minutes to change things up?¡±

    ¡°Clutter, I honestly have no idea what we should do.¡± I admit with a sigh. ¡°Maybe we missed something with the roots under the tower. There could be a¡­ set of directions, or maybe it powered something on that was inactive before. Anything¡¯s more likely than the quest just expecting us to run into a needle in a thousand haystacks.¡±

    He quickly nods. ¡°More like a thousand needles in infinite haystacks. What about¡­ um¡­ what about our jewelry? Will that do anything if we¡­ do anything with it?¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    Clutter stares at me blankly. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Neither do I. But it¡¯s a fine idea.¡± I open my Class Card, we both dodge the leeches, and then I swipe over to my map. ¡°Alright, both our markers are here. Let¡¯s see if this does anything.¡±

    I bring the armlet close to my map, and¡­ nothing. No notifications, beeps, or changes in the map. Something tells me Clutter¡¯s at least a little right¨Cthat our pieces of plastic jewelry have to do something¨Cbut apparently that isn¡¯t right now.

    I shake my head. ¡°No dice. Any other ideas?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Do we want to try going down a level, though?¡±

    Pearl stirs with a cute little groan. ¡°Don¡¯t. The magic is here. Follow it.¡±

    ¡®The magic is here¡¯. The hell does that mean? I haven¡¯t seen much of anything since we started running, and unless something literally pops out of the walls¨Cagain, to be fair¨CI don¡¯t see anything happening.

    ¡°Good second morning.¡± I say as Pearl sits up. ¡°You all good now?¡±

    ¡°Eeehhh¡­¡± She waggles her hand in a ¡®so-so¡¯ motion. ¡°Not perfect, but I¡¯m okay for now. As for the magic¨Cit¡¯s here, it¡¯s all around us, and it hasn¡¯t changed in a while. If you¡¯re going to make a change, take a quick look before you do. Just in case.¡±

    I take a look up at all the same-y material. ¡°Couldn¡¯t hurt. Clutter?¡±

    He falls to his knees, skids for a few feet, then slaps his hand on the floor. A door opens up instantly, and he drops through it without so much as an ¡®eep¡¯. I jump down a second later, and the door closes closely behind me. Clutter rubs his knees with a hiss of discomfort, but stands without a limp or a wince.

    ¡°Did you mean to do that?¡± I ask.

    He smiles sheepishly. ¡°I thought it¡¯d look cooler. But it kind of just hurt my knees.¡±

    ¡°It did look cool though.¡± Pearl admits. ¡°A little dumb when I started thinking, but still cool.¡±

    Clutter grins and looks around. It fades as he takes in the same-y halls, except for one little difference¨Cthe sensation of warning is completely gone. There is absolutely nothing here.

    ¡°I guess you were super right.¡± He says to Pearl. ¡°I guess we should just go back?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°Run in safety for a few minutes, then you can go back up. I didn¡¯t feel anything really off with my awareness.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Clutter nods and turns to start jogging. ¡°Were you always feeling for stuff? Even when you were asleep?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Not, like, a whole lot, but definitely enough to feel anything important. That¡¯s what I¡¯ve got Sheby here for.¡± Pearl smiles proudly and pats my cheek. ¡°There¡¯s no way she¡¯d miss anything important. We can¨C¡±

    Tap.

    My heart skips a beat before thundering to full force. I swivel on one foot and whip a projectile-filled coin at the source of the sensation¨Ca lump of magical sensations down the hall. Clutter spins around at the sight of my sudden movement, and before the tap can repeat, all the sensations die out. And the stain just changes into a very undead-looking paindne.

    It lurches forward, the familiar-ish body moving like a sack of slightly hardened pudding with fur stuck to it. I swallow hard as my projectile detonates right above its shoulder, exploding into a whirl large enough to completely consume the hallway with salty destruction. Clutter grimaces as¡­ chunks¡­ of wrong meat and fur and teeth and bones paint the hallway.

    ¡°I still can¡¯t feel it.¡± He almost longingly whispers to himself, then straightens his back. ¡°Where did that come from?¡±

    I have no damn clue. ¡°Pearl? ¡­Pearl?¡±

    Clutter and I turn to look at her¨Cmouth wide open, eyes slightly closed in scrutiny, and one hand gripping my earlobe for stability. She takes a second to realize we¡¯re looking at her, but doesn¡¯t try to play off the expression. Whatever just happened managed to surprise even her.

    ¡°It was¡­ nothing.¡± She murmurs with visible discomfort. ¡°But then it just transformed into something. That¡¯s not possible. Someone has to be here. Someone has to be making these¡­ things¡­ appear.¡±

    ¡°Nothing into something? Isn¡¯t that just magic?¡± Clutter asks.

    Pearl vigorously shakes her head. ¡°No, you don¡¯t get it. Shelby does, but you don¡¯t. Magic¡­ it feels like something. It¡¯s there. But this place¨Cfirst the doors, then the leeches, and now this¨Cthings just appear out of absolutely nothing. Is my awareness really so weak that I can¡¯t feel whatever¡¯s going on?¡±

    Ah, there it is. She isn¡¯t freaking out about the things themselves¨Cshe¡¯s worried that something strong enough to hide from her is doing said things. Can¡¯t blame her at all; the quest doing it is bad enough, but with the horizonguard and the potential shadowy figure I saw on the walls, the number of people who could do that is going up.

    ¡°So¡­ do we go back up?¡± Clutter motions awkwardly at the ceiling. ¡°Or is this another thing leading us to¡­ another thing?¡±

    I honestly don¡¯t know if my heart can take an onslaught of the things that can tap without glass. But a glance at Pearl shows she¡¯s really thinking about it, and from the concerned glances she sends back at me, the only thing stopping her is being worried about my well-being.

    ¡°We stay on this level.¡± I decide, though my heart still thunders with anticipation. ¡°Something has to be waiting for us. And I want to see what the hell it is.¡±

 Chapter 205: Ambush Fistfight

    Clutter reluctantly glances at the hall. His tail falls to the ground, immobile, as the squelching strikes of bone chunks in meat slipping from the walls punctuates the silence.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be here.¡± He mumbles quietly. ¡°But if we¡¯re going to stay here, we shouldn''t stay in one place. That¡¯s how we get attacked.¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°Agreed. I¡¯ll be on lookout from now on, so you two just focus on staying safe. And Shelby?¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Yell at Clutter to look at the things if they show up. He can phase them into something else for some reason, so don¡¯t forget to take advantage of that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to remember.¡± I say as I summon another projectile. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Clutter burst off at full-throttle. For a second I want to yell at him to slow down, but the visceral memory of the taps spurs my body to motion. I catch up to him easily, and it¡¯s back to running just like a few hours ago. Every dozen or so minutes another tap scrapes down my spine, but with adrenaline-fueled reflexes and my awareness screaming danger at me, I turn Clutter on each of the things before my heart can burst from their vile magic.

    One by one, they burst into chunks of meat. Little by little, I dip into an ever-dwindling pool of Worth to deal with them. Obliterating them does nothing to give me more Worth, so their materials must be completely worthless in the first place. Meaning now it¡¯s time for Clutter to give it a try.

    I close my fist around a readied coin and raise my chin at him. ¡°You¡¯re getting the next one that appears in front of us. Be ready.¡±

    He stiffens and nods seriously. A spell drifts off his fur like globs of pitch-black oil in water, and his form flickers in and out of visibility. Something¡¯s different from the last few times he went invisible, but¡­ he looks as confident as he can be. Must be a new spell I haven¡¯t seen yet.

    TAPTAP.

    My jaw clenches for the split second the taps split the air. Two twisted paindne appear in front of us directly in Clutter¡¯s line of sight so they never actually appear as the mutilated things. Clutter crouches down ever so slightly, splays his fingers wide, and takes a deep breath to steady his obvious nerves.

    Flickering, inky darkness overtakes him. For a moment it stains his entire form in a perfectly equal black, like a shadow standing upright, and then he disappears from view. My awareness catches for a second, not quite sure where he is. A soft, guttural breath cuts through the noise as I sense him further up.

    His every movement twitches with deadly efficiency; legs tensing, head lowering, tail silently swishing through the air as if helping propel him at the twisted paindne. Everything about him screams predatory intent. He bears his teeth, takes aim, and lunges at the closest enemy.

    The dark shadow that is Clutter topples the paindne like a sack of oranges. Before the thing can even react, Clutter sinks his teeth into its neck and tears mercilessly. Sputtering, inhuman noises fly from the twisted paindne¡¯s mouth as it rains a flurry of desperate blows down on Clutter¡¯s back, but they smack harmlessly against the shadowy coating. He spits out whatever was in his mouth, then raises a hand and sinks his claws deep into the wound.

    Twitching, twitches, nothing. With a wet squelch and a flesh-coated thump, the twisted paindne¡¯s head rolls to a stop as off-coloured blood leaks free from both halves of a fresh neck stump. Clutter flicks the blood from his claws and turns to the next paindne, who is already mid-lunge. He yelps in surprise as the mass of flesh careens into him, bringing him down to the ground with a resounding impact as he struggles to keep his head from smashing to the floor.

    Fervor and mindless aggression seep from the twisted paindne as it rains hell down on Clutter. Teeth, fists, claws, and whatever else it can use to hit him all join together to batter the shadowy shroud of invisibility from him. He grimaces and tries to get his hands up to stoop at least one thing, but the painless ferocity of the twisted paindne makes it impossible.

    He turns to me, invisibility fading by the second. ¡°Help me! Please!¡±

    I switch my projectile for a shield. A flick sends it directly between Clutter and the twisted paindne, and a thought blooms it into a series of hexagonal plates that push the monster away from my friend. He scurries away on hands and knees, eyes wide with fear and chest visibly heaving with every breath. I raise my hand, projectile slipping from between my fingers to the top of my thumb. But Clutter doesn¡¯t fall back. He doesn¡¯t even notice the coin in my hand.

    Because he¡¯s already half-composed and trying to get the black shroud up again. From the looks of it, though, it isn¡¯t going well.

    ¡°Come on¡­ work!¡± He grimaces and smacks his chest with his fist. ¡°It just worked a second ago. What¡¯s wrong now?!¡±

    ¡°Something wrong?¡± Pearl asks seriously. ¡°Is this new to you?¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t¡­ new. Dang it.¡± Clutter quietly exclaims, then disappears with a wave of his hand. But it isn¡¯t the improved invisibility¨Cit¡¯s the one I¡¯m used to. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about it in a second.¡±

    He sprints at the twisted paindne, but it snaps to look at him and charges right back. A bloody fistfight ensues, but from moment one, it¡¯s obvious that the twisted paindne only has momentum on its side. Even still, it¡¯s hard to watch my friend get repeatedly smashed in the face and not intervene.

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    ¡°Should we¡­ do something?¡± Pearl whispers. ¡°He¡¯s going to win, but I don¡¯t know what kind of shape he¡¯s going to be in after.¡±

    Something makes me shake my head. ¡°I think¡­ his pride will take a much bigger hit if I go in and save him.¡±

    Pearl winces and looks away as the thing bites down on Clutter¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I know you¡¯re right, but this is still really hard to watch. Does he actually have no way of running away to regroup? That¡¯s what our ambush fighters used to do when the enemy started to rally.¡±

    ¡°Looking at him, no. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s used to fighting. At all.¡±

    I grimace as Clutter grabs the thing¡¯s jaw and rips it open, splattering the ground with pointless shards of tooth and bone. Thanks to the random placement of the teeth and lack of jaw strength his neck is left graciously un-ripped, and he goes in for a vicious counter-bite that seals the deal. It still takes almost a damn minute for him to finish it off, but eventually, he walks away victorious. Battered, sliced to hell, and struggling to breathe, but victorious nonetheless.

    He smiles weakly. ¡°I did it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. You did. But you almost died to two of them.¡± I walk up to him and wipe some blood off from above his right eye. ¡°Whatever you did to that first one was great. But then you got distracted and let the second one beat the hell out of you. What happened?¡±

    ¡°U-um, it¡¯s a spell¡­¡± He trails off guiltily.

    I shake my head. ¡°No, not that. You had the upper hand, but then you just threw it away instead of doing¡­ anything else. Seriously; do you have any combat training at all? I only had, like, a week with Illumisia and a little with Ursula and I¡¯m pretty confident I could beat you hand-to-hand.¡±

    ¡°...Oh.¡± He glances around, as if anyone would overhear us, then looks up at the ceiling. ¡°If we¡¯re going to talk, we should go up. It¡¯s safer there.¡±

    ¡°Nope. I¡¯ll get the next ones.¡± I pat him insistently on the shoulder and gently urge him onwards. ¡°You went at them straight-on. Didn¡¯t even try to get behind them for the extra surprise factor. But you did go at the constructs from behind when you fought them. So? What¡¯s the deal?¡±

    Clutter swallows hard and avoids my gaze. ¡°It¡¯s because I¡¯m¡­ strong enough?¡±

    I barely manage to stifle a snort. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°When I do the¡­ thing¡­ I¡¯m strong enough that I don''t have to attack from behind.¡± he repeats, but it doesn¡¯t make any more sense the second time. ¡°That way I don¡¯t have to be cowardly when I fight.¡±

    Pearl doesn¡¯t bother stifling her laugh of disbelief. ¡°Cowardly? When you¡¯re putting your life on the line, there¡¯s no such thing as cowardice. Just different levels of how much you¡¯re willing to risk your own life for the sake of something else.¡±

    ¡°Really? So what would you call me leaving Briony to fight the plastic mass because I was scared?¡± Clutter winces at the memory, blood slowly dripping from his dozens of wounds. ¡°I was a coward. It got people hurt. If I can, I¡¯m never going to fight¨Cor run from a fight¨Clike a coward again.¡±

    ¡°And somehow you think running straight at paindne flesh-sacks is the opposite of cowardice.¡± Pearl sighs and shakes her head. ¡°You¡¯ve got some twisted ideas of what¡¯s what. But you didn¡¯t answer Shelby¡¯s question¨Cdid you actually have any combat training?¡±

    Clutter¡¯s face strangely contorts as he hisses through the side of his mouth. ¡°Kind of? It¡¯s a long story, but I wasn¡¯t supposed to get my scout Class. Not the entire thing at once, that¡¯s for sure. It¡¯s why Briony and Vesa were looking for me¨CI¡¯m kind of not supposed to be¡­ well¡­ this.¡±

    He gestures at all of himself with a bitter expression. There¡¯s a level of self-disdain there that sort of hurts to see, what with how he¡¯s normally so bright to be around.

    ¡°And what does that mean?¡± Pearl snaps, startling Clutter so badly that he almost slips on a chunk of neck. ¡°You aren¡¯t something to be ashamed of. Never, ever think that we aren¡¯t better off with you around!¡±

    Clutter blinks in surprise, then blushes and looks away. ¡°I¡¯m nothing special.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be special. You¡¯re you.¡± Pearl states assertively. ¡°We need a scout. Whether you think you¡¯re qualified, deserving, or whatever else of being that scout¨Cwe want you to be ours. Right, Shelby?¡±

    I nod in agreement. Though I¡¯m a little surprised Pearl is getting so emotional about this¨Cmaybe it struck a nerve that nothing else did. Or maybe she got a little more invested in Clutter since we talked about letting him go in the graveyard. Kind of like I have.

    ¡°Buddy, you¡¯re stuck with us, not the other way around.¡± I grin and pat him on the back. He grunts quietly, but cracks the shortest smile. ¡°If you¡¯re not confident in being a scout, I¡¯m sure we can find someone to help teach you the ins and outs of it. And if you¡¯re actually going to fight, I¡¯ve gotta reiterate that you¡¯re infinitely more¡­ more¡­¡±

    I purse my lips as words swirl around in my head. Clutter stares at me with wide eyes, waiting with rapt attention on my next words. ¡®Useful¡¯ doesn¡¯t feel right. Too diminutive, and a little drill-sergeant-esque. ¡®Strong¡¯ doesn¡¯t quite get it through, either. The image of him cloaked in flickering shadows jumps to mind, and with it comes the right word.

    ¡°Dangerous. You¡¯re infinitely more dangerous when nobody sees you coming.¡± I give him a vicious grin full of teeth. He doesn¡¯t flinch away. ¡°I¡¯m the biggest beacon of distracting energy you can hope for. Use that to slip away and take out a dangerous enemy, or gather useful info, or set up a distraction to confuse them. Then slip away unharmed and do it again when they lose you.¡±

    He raises a hand to the shallow cuts on his neck. ¡°But I¡¯m not scared of getting hurt. Or getting bloody. You saw me fight¨CI can do it. I don¡¯t have to fight or run like a coward. I can be on the frontlines with you.¡±

    Pearl snorts in amusement. I lift an eyebrow in confusion. ¡°Clutter, I¡¯m a dogshit frontline fighter. Now Ursula¨Cshe could take an army on by wading into the thick of it. The only reason I fight at close range so much is because the things I fight keep rushing me, and we don¡¯t have someone who¡¯s enough of a threat to let me safely make and maintain space.¡±

    ¡°Who taught you that?¡± Pearl asks sarcastically.

    ¡°I¡¯m good at putting bullshit experiences into useful words.¡± I reply with a roll of my eyes. ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s that I¡¯m constantly experiencing things from all directions, and I actually internalize those experiences. But you, Clutter¨Cas long as you have me, you don¡¯t need to risk drawn out fights. I can help you get away, and you can draw a shit ton of the attention away from me.¡±

    He doesn¡¯t seem convinced, but there¡¯s a little less self-doubt in his eyes. If I can actually show him how useful a dangerous assassin and some battlefield info can be, I¡¯m sure I can get him to stop worrying about being a coward. Or being useful. I kick aside a chunk of meat as I open my mouth to speak again, but slowly close it again as I focus on something in my awareness. We¡¯ve been walking for a good minute since Clutter killed those things.

    The gore shouldn¡¯t be anywhere close to us.

 Chapter 206: Blood of a Paindne

    I shove Clutter¡¯s shoulder as hard as I can, then break into a sprint. His eyes widen, first in confusion, then in worried surprise as he looks down at the blood pooling around his feet. In two perfect circles. He bursts into motion less than a second after I did, his feet leaving behind long, sticky strands of blood connected to the floor. They strain with slight elasticity as they thin out, but snap when Clutter¡¯s body weight proves too much.

    ¡°Crap, crap, crap!¡± He yells. ¡°Did I do it wrong? Is this my fault?!¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know!¡± I say as clearly as I can manage. ¡°Pearl, what¡¯s the magic look like on this stuff? I can¡¯t feel much of anything.¡±

    She doesn¡¯t answer right away, her focus instead locked on the mass of gore and blood shambling behind us. I¡­ how did it¡­ how did I not notice it before? All of the twisted paindne¡­ they spawned ahead of us. We kept running. And the only time we slowed down was for Clutter to take on two of them. Shit, that¡¯s what happened. It was just out of my range the entire time and only now caught up.

    But Pearl should¡¯ve seen it for a while now. So what the hell?

    ¡°Pearl!¡±

    Her entire body shimmers from head to toe. ¡°I can¡¯t tell what it is. But the magic that kept those paindne together is making that puddle of yuck.¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Not good enough. Why no warning?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m stupid and forgot to mention it.¡± She says sarcastically. ¡°Actually, the stuff wasn¡¯t there until about thirty seconds ago. The quest must¡¯ve teleported it to us once we killed enough of the paindne.¡±

    ¡°So what about those thirty seconds?¡± Clutter asks.

    Pearl frowns. ¡°...I got distracted. Sorry.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°With?¡±

    ¡°The fact that the exact same magic making the puddle slide at us was also used to keep the paindne together. If it was¡­ flesh animation magic, or matter control, it would¡¯ve had to change at least a little between forms. But it was exactly the same.¡± She taps her heels against my shoulder as she stares back at the stuff. ¡°I think it¡¯s some kind of liquid manipulation magic. Or we¡¯re looking at a ton of the plastic, not actual things, and the plastic control magic is really complex.¡±

    Clutter coughs, reaches into his mouth, and pulls a strand of flesh from his throat. I grimace in disgust, but he just tosses it to the side like a piece of corn was stuck between his teeth.

    ¡°Dude.¡±

    ¡°What? It got caught in my throat. And of course I¡¯m not going to swallow any of that stuff. Can you imagine the diseases it might be carrying?¡± He shudders. ¡°I could get something that nobody¡¯s heard of before. Like head-fall-off-itis.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but the taste is fine? And the¡­ the texture?¡± I ask in utter disbelief. ¡°How aren¡¯t you at least a little disgusted by this?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°I guess it¡¯s a paindne thing.¡±

    ¡°It definitely is.¡± Pearl confirms. ¡°Nothing eating-related disgusts Illumisia. Now smells? Smells are a different thing. Not the smells you¡¯d think, but some smells. I¨Cwait, we¡¯re off topic. Did the spell do this? Or are we just not that worried about a puddle of blood and guts chasing us?¡±

    Clutter glances over his shoulder. ¡°I mean, after the stain with teeth, this kind of feels¡­ not as dangerous? Hey, maybe this was supposed to happen first. It¡¯s kind of like a way less scary version of the stain.¡±

    A flicker of magic appears ahead of us. Two twisted paindne blip into existence way out of the pattern, giving weight to the theory that killing enough of them triggered something. Which means killing more of them could trigger something else. Most likely something horrible, but there¡¯s a little chance that this is what we¡¯re supposed to be doing.

    ¡°Run through them!¡± I order as Clutter starts to pulse with shadows. ¡°Killing them could be a mistake!¡±

    ¡°Or it could be the thing we have to do.¡± Pearl says, echoing half of my suspicion. ¡°But trying something else is worth a go. I¡¯ll actually keep an eye on our backs now.¡±

    I nod as one of the pair lunges at me. An arm bloated with flesh and blood swings unnaturally toward my neck. A small shield blocks its path, then branches out into a web of hexagonal plates that bristle with far too much magic for this little return. I shove it to the right, and the twisted paindne jolts painfully as it gets pulled along.

    Clutter goes invisible, then yelps when he¡¯s reminded that the normal invisibility doesn¡¯t work against these things. I roll my eyes and shove my shield in his direction. It slams the twisted paindne into the other wall with a heavy thud, and Clutter gives me a shaky smile of thanks.

    ¡°Just do the shadow-y invisibility next time. That seemed to work.¡±

    He nods vigorously. ¡°I would if I could, but it¡¯s not that easy.¡±

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    ¡°...Do I get an explanation for that, or no?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated! I tried to tell you a minute ago, but things happened!¡± Clutter looks down at his feet and grimaces. ¡°It¡¯s a spell I haven¡¯t used at all. Illumisia gave it to me.¡±

    My face twists into stunned disbelief. ¡°She can do that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not¡­ like that. She can¡¯t actually make the system do anything, but¡­ I¡¯m¡­ a paindne. That means she can force my body to do things it normally shouldn¡¯t be able to.¡±

    ¡°She altered your biology?¡± I raise my eyebrows in surprise. ¡°Damn.¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°No, it isn¡¯t that either. She just made something the system shoved into the background come to the forefront again. This is¡­ something I¡¯m supposed to be able to do anyways. But I can¡¯t just use it like a spell; the system doesn¡¯t help me at all, and if I can¡¯t focus, I can¡¯t even get it to work.¡±

    That sounds like messing with his biology to me. But if he¡¯s convinced otherwise, then I¡¯ll let him keep believing. I run my palm over my mouth in thought, trying to come up with something to help him. Nothing jumps out at me, mostly because I have no idea how I¡¯d go invisible without a spell or skill directly doing it for me.

    ¡°Did she say how it works?¡± Pearl asks.

    ¡°I¡­ kind of? Maybe more, but I didn¡¯t really¡­ um¡­ understand it.¡± Clutter admits sheepishly. ¡°She said it works by running mana over my fur, and then a lot of stuff that made my brain hurt. Only some of it was censored by the system, too.¡±

    Pearl shoots him a sideways look. ¡°Then just keep doing it. Have you been practicing at all?¡±

    He glances away guiltily. So that¡¯s a no.

    ¡°Illumisia would¡¯ve killed me if I shirked training.¡± I mutter to myself. ¡°How the hell did you get away with it while she was staying with you?¡±

    He doesn¡¯t have an answer. I take a deep breath through my nose to center my thoughts; he has a magical ability outside of the system. In a magical world, it shouldn¡¯t be that surprising. But I can¡¯t imagine the system uplifting painted danes into paindne without putting a shit ton of limiters on them, or at least making them completely reliant on the system. Illumisia must¡¯ve done far more to Clutter than she let on.

    But¡­ why? I can¡¯t imagine it was out of the goodness of her heart. Hell, I doubt Clutter¡¯s body even had the ability to do whatever he just did before she got to him. Maybe¡­ she¡¯s using him as an experiment. To see if the paindne are still connected enough to the painted danes that she can¡­ do something¡­ with them. No idea what the hell that could be, though.

    ¡°Clutter, is your new skill in the system at all?¡±

    He shakes his head. ¡°It didn¡¯t show up anywhere at all.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Looks like you¡¯ve got a choice, then; try to make the system register the new thing as a skill, or keep working at it alone.¡± I snap my neck to glare at the sound of another tap. ¡°Same quick time between this one and the last. Pearl, are the others following us?¡±

    She nods. ¡°At the exact same speed as the rest of the gore. They¡¯re kind of being¡­ dragged along. It¡¯s not a pretty sight.¡±

    I scrunch my nose as my imagination fills in the holes. ¡°Can¡¯t imagine it would be. Clutter, you¡¯re killing one of these. I¡¯ll make sure the other can¡¯t hurt us. ¡­Clutter?¡±

    He runs silently next to me, eyes staring blankly off into the distance as if lost in thought. It must be something I said. Maybe he¡¯s trying to get the system to register his new ability as a skill. That¡¯s definitely not what Illumisia would want, so if it works, I¡¯ll apologize to her later. I open my mouth to try and get his attention one more time, but his normal invisibility shimmers over his body and his eyes focus on the twisted paindne closer to him.

    ¡°I think I know what to do.¡± He says confidently. ¡°But I can¡¯t do it yet, sorry. I need one of those hexagon rocks that Dizzy has.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    I slam my target into the wall and run past it. Clutter summons his flowing hand wraps and twists the paindne¡¯s neck fully around, then kicks the back of its leg as he sinks his teeth into its neck and twists even more. He starts to talk, but it comes out muffled around the gooey flesh in his mouth.

    He turns, spits it out, and sprints to catch up. ¡°Illumisia showed me how to do the shadow thing after I showed her the rock with all the plastic in it. Maybe she recognized what the hexagon rocks could do and that¡¯s why she showed me. So I can put my shadow thing into the system the same way you put the map into the system.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯d¨C¡±

    ¡°No, she has to know!¡± He says excitedly. ¡°This is where the hexagons must¡¯ve come from! She had to have known that! If I wasn¡¯t so scared to show you back then, maybe I could¡¯ve done it at Dizzy¡¯s lab.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you were scared to show me?¡±

    ¡°Kind of!¡±

    ¡°...Why?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°I don¡¯t know anymore!¡±

    Ah, of course. I sigh and glance over my shoulder at the growing mass of blood and gore. It¡¯s picked up the body Clutter left and the one I shoved against the wall, and they¡¯re just kind of¡­ scraping along the ground. Getting a little bit shorter by the second. Almost like they¡¯re being¡­ grated down by the floor. Yurgh.

    I shudder and turn back to the hall in front of me. Nothing¡¯s obviously changed up front, and I haven¡¯t sensed anything like the scratch on the wall that led to the other subquest. There¡¯s no way we¡¯re just supposed to run until something happens, right? That¡¯s the antithesis of what the other subquest was trying to show us.

    ¡­Actually, with the mass of gore following us, this is damn close to exactly what the subquest was like. A lot less deadly for Clutter, and not for me, but it¡¯s¡­ well¡­ derivative. Except this one seems like it¡¯s real, and the other one was blatantly plastic. Does that mean something? Should it mean something to me? To Clutter?

    It feels like I don¡¯t have enough information to make the call. I wonder if that¡¯s part of the quest¡¯s plan, too.

    Something magical nips at the edge of my awareness. I blink to focus and feel at the tile that doesn¡¯t look any different from the others¨Cand the almost defunct magic that swims underneath it. It doesn¡¯t feel like a trap. Hell, it actually feels like it¡¯s built into the tile¨Cnot added afterwards. ¡®Course that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s safe to step on. I motion at it, and Clutter nods in understanding as he moves slightly out of the way.

    We run right by it. Nothing happens. I turn and watch as the mass of gore creeps onto it. Magic seeps out of it like a bag of oranges crushed under a press, then erupts into a¡­ floating square. It hovers in the air aimlessly for a moment, then orients itself perfectly for my eyes to read.

    ¡û Yunrov District

    Lifad District ¡ú

 Chapter 207: Compressed Flesh

    A¡­ signpost? Triggered by one random tile in the middle of the hallway? If that¡¯s how people here normally got around, then that¡¯s one inefficient system. Or I guess they all could¡¯ve had awareness-like spells or skills. Or¡­ okay, maybe there¡¯s more options than I thought. I glance back at it for a second to see if it does anything else¨Clike send a notification to my Class Card, but nothing happens.

    It¡¯s just a sign.

    ¡°Another district. Hm.¡± Pearl frowns and crosses her arms. ¡°Does that mean there¡¯s another tower here?¡±

    I¡­ hadn¡¯t even thought about that. ¡°I guess there¡¯s a good chance. But did we really run far enough to get into a new district?¡±

    ¡°You saw the sign, too, not just me.¡± She shrugs. ¡°Technically we don¡¯t know if we¡¯re¡­ like¡­ halfway through our district and still have a few hours to run since there aren¡¯t any distances on it. Or we could¡¯ve just walked into a brand new district¨Cone that could have other people in it.¡±

    Clutter shudders. ¡°We aren¡¯t ready to fight more people. Heck, we still don¡¯t know how to deal with all the gore!¡±

    ¡°Probably something to do with phasing.¡± I flip a coin into my hand and raise an eyebrow at Pearl. ¡°Unless you¡¯ve seen something new?¡±

    She shakes her head. That¡¯s what I figured. But without an opening to get over the mass of gore, the answer can¡¯t just be the exact same as with the stain. The things disappeared from the tower at one point, so there has to be a way to get rid of them¨Cand we were probably supposed to use that exact same way to get rid of this stuff. Except I have no idea what happened to them.

    I turn to Clutter and shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t have any ideas. Let¡¯s try feeding the puddle a few times and see if anything changes.¡±

    His eyes widen and he turns to stare at the gore. Reluctantly, he nods and flexes his fingers. We run for a minute before the next pair of twisted paindne appear. Neither of them stand much of a chance, especially now that Clutter seems like he¡¯s getting the hang of dealing with them. Honestly, aside from the heart-stopping noise that comes before they actually appear, these things aren¡¯t much of a threat at all.

    Which definitely makes me think we¡¯re missing something. Throwing a shit ton of twisted paindne at us would only work if people were¨Cfor some reason¨Cagainst killing these obvious mockeries of life. You¡¯d have to be one hell of a pacifist or extremely weak for that to happen. Then there¡¯s the gore puddle; obviously sweeping up everything we run past so we can¡¯t just take the pacifist route of avoiding them.

    Everything¡¯s pointing towards a solution that involves us running away. Maybe now¡¯s the time to switch floors.

    I clap my hands to get Clutter¡¯s attention. ¡°We¡¯re going down a floor after the next pair. Assume the puddle¡¯s going to follow us through somehow.¡±

    He gives me a thumbs-up of understanding. Pearl frowns for some reason¨Chopefully because she¡¯s thinking of a plan¨Cbut she doesn¡¯t say anything to stop me. With what little confidence that inspires I flick a coin into my palm and wait for the next two to come.

    A minute passes. Then two. Another three skim by eventlessly, and I turn to make sure my awareness isn¡¯t gaslighting me into thinking the stain is still after us. It hasn¡¯t grown all that much¨Cmaybe three feet in diameter¨Cand it¡¯s taller than it was before. The edges are perfectly sheer, standing like a rounded stone column that holds up some ancient building. Not a single paindne body part is visible any more. Just a singular mass the colour of sickly blood with shards that could be tooth or bone lazily churning inside.

    ¡°The hell is the point of that?¡± I wonder aloud. ¡°When did it stop getting wider?¡±

    ¡°About eight minutes ago. Then it just got taller and taller.¡± Pearl slowly raises her hand for emphasis. ¡°Can you tell how wide it is now?¡±

    I tilt my head in confusion. ¡°Am I supposed to see something?¡±

    She nods. I press my lips into a straight line and feel at my awareness for whatever answer she¡¯s looking for. We¡¯ve dealt with a few dozen paindne so far, and if you crushed all of them up and put them in a cylinder, then I guess you¡¯d have exactly what we¡¯ve got. My awareness says it¡¯s pretty damn wide¨Csix feet ish in radius¨Cwhich doesn¡¯t really match with anything we¡¯ve seen so far.

    ¡°Twelve foot diameter, and about eight feet tall.¡± I relay the numbers my awareness approximates with confidence. ¡°What¡¯s important about those numbers?¡±

    I turn to Clutter¨Cmaybe they mean something important to him. But he just has the same, nearly blank look of uncertainty that I do.

    ¡°Really? You can¡¯t feel it?¡± She narrows her eyes. ¡°...Oh, it must be too thick for you. My bad. Try opening up a door on the floor and you¡¯ll see.¡±

    Well, since I was already going to do that¡­

    I flex my fingers and spring forward with all my might, landing hands first on the floor. An echoing shock lances up through my arms reminding me that I did not land right, but my body will heal it soon enough. The door spreads with my hand as the centerpiece, and I fall through it as the thing opens under my body. This time I land with my knees bent and break into a sprint the moment I feel Clutter aiming for the hole.

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    He falls through a second later, and we keep running. The mass of gore reaches the door a few heartbeats later, but¡­ the door didn¡¯t even start to close. Normally it would instantly shut after it detected people were done going through. Does that mean¡­

    ¡°Shit.¡± I hiss as the thing glorps through the hole. ¡°The doors stay open for the damn thing. It must have life signs the city can interpret.¡±

    ¡°That would explain all the blood and flesh.¡± Clutter says with a little nod. ¡°That must be how the city senses someone¡¯s going to open a door. So now what? We just confirmed we can¡¯t run from it.¡±

    ¡­Just like we confirmed we couldn''t run from the stain forever. Damn it, there¡¯s too many parallels between the two things. And if this thing¡¯s going to be a cylinder with a static shape forever, then there¡¯s a way for us to get behind it. One that¡¯s about as easy as slipping through the space the stain left for us. Can I really assume the exact same thing¡¯s going to work this time, though? What if the twisted paindne are making use of the fact that we already cleared the stain, and are luring us into a trap?

    ¡°Really wish there were more rules here. And less stains.¡± I mutter to myself. The thing slides through the door with a grinding pop, then slams against the ground. ¡°Huh. Where¡¯s the¨C¡±

    Blood rains down on the smaller cylinder like a localized rainstorm of hate. I can¡¯t help but stare at the deluge of blood that just¡­ keeps going. Soaking the ground around it in a sea of off-red that spills further and further out with every passing second. Except it isn¡¯t¡­ right. All the blood acts like a normal liquid would. And the cylinder at the center doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯s moving at all. I run until the thing¡¯s at the very edge of my awareness. It just won¡¯t move.

    I put a hand out to stop Clutter. He freezes the second my fingers touch his shirt, spins around on his feel, and fixates on the inert cylinder with defences raised. His expression quickly shifts from steely focus to confusion. Slowly but surely, he raises a hand and points at the thing.

    ¡°What happened to it?¡±

    I slowly shake my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Did going down a floor destabilize the magic in it?¡±

    No, that can¡¯t be it¨Cthe thing feels no different than a second ago. And all the blood raining down on it still seems like it¡¯s under the control of whatever is controlling it¨Cbut it¡¯s slightly off. I can¡¯t put my finger on what¡¯s wrong about it, but there¡¯s definitely something off. This could be our chance.

    ¡°Pearl.¡± I state as I take a step forward.

    She nods. ¡°The magic is still there, but it¡¯s spread out. I think the blood draining down is messing with it somehow. Can you see what I see now?¡±

    I motion at the cylinder. ¡°Is it that thing or the rain of blood?¡±

    ¡°Technically both. All the blood and bone shards are in that liquid, but all the solid stuff turned into that cylinder. Which is exactly the size of a door.¡± She motions at the hole in the ceiling, which still hasn¡¯t started to close. ¡°The paindne stopped appearing, the solid pillar in the center of the blood is exactly the same size as the door¡­ if that¡¯s a coincidence, then this is a horribly designed quest.¡±

    ¡°It still could be!¡± Clutter calls out from where he stands¨Cthe exact same spot as before. ¡°Be really, really careful!¡±

    I shoot him a crooked smile. ¡°Won¡¯t be anything but.¡±

    For a few steps, my feet touch nothing but familiar stone-like material. Then comes the blood. Squelching, pulling, sticky blood that clings to the soles of my shoes with a desperation that only life should be able to manage. A shudder works its way down my back, stopping at each individual vertebrae like notes on an extremely long xylophone. I lift a foot, strands of blood refusing to let me leave the puddle, but I can feel the weakness in it.

    A¡­ disunity within the blood. The stuff up above desperately raining down to join the rest. One massive puddle of the stuff trying to maintain its unity even though it can¡¯t. And the mass of compressed flesh in the center that¡¯s doing absolutely nothing at all. I can barely even feel any magic inside of it. Just a distant glimmer of something at the perfect center of it.

    My mind screams a warning in harmony with a gleeful, curious shriek. Each footstep towards the center takes more effort than the last. I raise my arms to block the bloody drizzle, but the stuff sticks to me like molten tar. It does nothing else. Just sticks and refuses to let go. I shake my head with a frown and close the last few feet to the cylinder itself.

    ¡°You might need to teleport out.¡± Pearl whispers worriedly. ¡°There¡¯s not much blood left above, and I bet it¡¯s going to go back to¡­ moving when all the blood¡¯s drained.¡±

    I nod. ¡°Noted. The hell am I supposed to do here?¡±

    Pearl shrugs. ¡°Rip it open to get at the prize?¡±

    A coin buzzes in my hand, filled to the brim with a deadly projectile. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, focusing intently on the sensation at the center of the cylinder, and give the projectile as complex of an order as I can manage. Then I reach out, press my palm to the cylinder, and ignite the spell.

    It tears through the flesh like a ravenous worm, scouring away swaths of it in the blink of an eye. Blood creeps up my feet as it works, trying helplessly to stop me from ripping away at its core. As the cylinder is shaved away, the connection to the blood puddle dies with it. And once my spell devours enough of the cylinder, the thing at the center finally shows itself.

    A misshapen lump of grey material like a tumor-riddled heart. It slowly beats, one quarter at a time at completely random intervals, pumping out a perfectly clear fluid that drains into the blood. I stare at the thing in confused disbelief; it definitely wasn¡¯t in any of the twisted paindne. The quest must¡¯ve teleported it in at some point. With the reluctance anyone would have if they were about to grab a heart with their bare hands, I reach for the mass of misshapen flesh.

    Quest Item Found: Heart of a Heretic.

    Deep in the city, someone died.

    You have found the first key.

    The first lock eludes you.

 Chapter 208: The Beating Key

    Flesh and blood pool around my feet as the magic bleeds out of them. The heart beats against my palm like a living thing, but it doesn¡¯t¡­ feel like flesh. It¡¯s chilly, smoothed to a slick finish, and as hard as steel. I wrap my fingers around it and pull. It comes free in a burst of clear liquid, and what magic was left in the blood and flesh dies out instantly.

    The blood creeping up my shoes splashes down. All the stuff coating my clothes drips away. And the compressed pillar of flesh sloughs away in chunks. I take a step back, heart held in one hand, and watch as the thing just¡­ dies. Shallow breaths force mana into my lungs from the concentrated air, but it does nothing to stave off the discomfort that the scene brings.

    I turn to Pearl, eyes wide. ¡°Did you know this was going to happen?¡±

    She slowly shakes her head. ¡°I thought something was going to happen but not¡­ whatever that was. Do you think this was too easy? Because it feels too easy to me.¡±

    ¡°That might be an understatement.¡± I mutter as the door closes above me. ¡°So¡­ all we had to do was run until it stopped spawning paindne, then make a door in the ground. That¡¯s something literally anyone would¡¯ve done eventually.¡±

    I grimace and turn away from the gore as blood soaks into my shoes. Neither of us have to say the obvious; the eventuality is the point. As long as someone can survive a few dozen twisted paindne, they¡¯ll finish this. Because it¡¯s the first damn step. Everything else with the stain and the plastic construct was just a bonus. This is the real way forward.

    Clutter gestures at the heart as I approach. ¡°Um.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s exactly what you think it is.¡± I say humorlessly and put the heart in his hands. ¡°And a little more, actually. Did you get the notification?¡±

    He stares ahead at a random point in the distance. ¡°Yes. Is this¡­ the actual quest? What does ¡®heart of a heretic¡¯ mean?¡±

    ¡°Well, a heart is a vital organ, and a heretic is someone that¡­ hm. How do I explain it without using Earth terms¡­¡± I scratch my chin as we walk off. ¡°When you do something that¡¯s against the rules of your organization, you¡¯re a heretic.¡±

    Pearl snorts in amusement. ¡°That¡¯s an understatement.¡±

    Clutter frowns and pulls the heart close to his chest. ¡°I know what a heretic is. But why¡¯s there a heart here? And what were they a heretic against? Was the plastic construct we saw part of the thing this person was a heretic against, or were they hidden because they were on the same side as they were?¡±

    I blink in surprise at the intensity of Clutter¡¯s words. It feels like they¡¯re coming from a fairly personal place, but his face just shows unbridled curiosity. Maybe he¡¯s just really getting into the quest. I shake my head and let the thought drop; we have something else far more important to do now.

    ¡°We know what we¡¯re looking for now.¡± I pull out the wreath-sphere with one hand and motion off into the distance. ¡°There¡¯s a heart-shaped lock somewhere out there. Unless the quest wants us to wander endlessly looking for one random place, I bet there¡¯s a bunch of ways to get there. And this heart has to give us some info on how to find it.¡±

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    We walk for another few hours, scouring the tunnels for a whiff of anything that might be suspicious. This time we change tunnels every few minutes to let Pearl get a better look through her awareness, but even then, absolutely nothing shows up. If I was the one designing this quest, I¡¯d make it so the random wandering part ended with finding the heart¨Cand then I¡¯d have people try to find out the secret the ¡®key¡¯ holds. And I¡¯d make it so it¡¯d be solvable with only the tools I¡¯d given everyone so far, but easier if they¡¯d finished a side-quest.

    I have no idea how I¡¯d do it, but I guess that¡¯s what we have to find out next. And trying to do it in the middle of a random hallway where we could be jumped at any time is not the right place to start. I toss Clutter a relocation coin and drop one of my own on the floor, then shoot him finger guns as Pearl crawls back into her shell. He nods, drops his own, and I trigger the pair I left back in the tower.

    Relatively nothing gives way to the slightly different nothing of the tower. I wipe nothing off the sphere-wreathe and stare down at it for a second, then click my tongue and move for the stairs. Clutter stares out the window for a few seconds before hurrying to follow me.

    ¡°So why¡¯d you take that out?¡± He nods at the sphere-wreath. ¡°I didn¡¯t see it do anything while we were walking.¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Honestly, it was blind hope. The thing still hadn¡¯t done anything yet, and I figured maybe it¡¯d show us where the lock is. Or at least which¡­ hexagon it¡¯s in.¡±

    Clutter nods. ¡°That makes sense. Did it do anything?¡±

    ¡°Did it? Ha.¡± I smirk and raise the thing in the air. ¡°If it did, we wouldn¡¯t be in the tower right now. We¡¯d be running towards wherever it wants us to go. Hopefully with some Worth to pad my dwindling supply.¡±

    We round the corner as Pearl wiggles out of her shell and situates her in her normal spot. She looks down at the sphere-wreath for a second with a raised eyebrow, though she looks away just as quickly and focuses on the door to the door-room right in front of us.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°If there¡¯s a lock anywhere close to us, it¡¯s going to be in this place.¡± I open the door with one hand and stride through. None of the doors have changed since we were last in here, but that doesn¡¯t mean there isn¡¯t anything here. ¡°Try touching the heart to all the doors. See if they react at all.¡±

    Clutter raises the heart in confirmation and hurries to the doors. He slowly raises it to the closest one, almost reverently inching it closer and closer until the grey flesh-like-substance touches the door. A few seconds pass with contact. Nothing happens at all. With a pinched expression he just as carefully moves it away from the door and looks over at me.

    ¡°Did anything happen?¡± He asks, just as much to Pearl as to me.

    We shake our heads in unison. He frowns down at the heart in disappointment, then moves on to the next door. There¡¯s absolutely no hesitation as he carefully presses it against the thing, leaves it there for a few seconds, then turns to us for confirmation. Which we provide with another shake of our heads. Without exchanging a single word, he shifts to the next door, and lightly presses the heart against it.

    Again, nothing. We silently relay the results, and he moves on to the next door in sequence. Over and over again until he¡¯s pressed it against every door in the room. His expression shifts from disappointment to confusion over the course of it, and to be honest, I pretty much completely agree with him. We¡¯ve got a room with locked doors. The quest gives us a heart that it specifically calls a ¡®key¡¯.

    It¡¯s the kind of hint that annoys you when it turns out to be false. Which it is. Meaning we¡¯ve got no info on how to find this ¡®lock¡¯. Clutter offers me the heart after he gives it one last glance, and I accept it before sending the thing to my inventory.

    ¡°I feel robbed.¡± He grumbles.

    ¡°Same here.¡± I agree with a sigh. ¡°But I¡¯m ninety percent sure we¡¯re on the right path here; maybe there¡¯s just a step we haven¡¯t done yet. The heart keeps pumping out this clear liquid, so maybe we¡¯ve got to use that.¡±

    Pearl hums deep in her throat. ¡°I can barely feel any magic in the heart, and the liquid¡¯s no different. It definitely isn¡¯t the grey magic we¡¯re looking for if that¡¯s what you were getting at.¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°I was thinking the stuff might have an effect if we drink it or pour it on something. Or¡­ maybe we should bring it to the plastic construct. It¡¯s the only thing we¡¯ve seen that seems to know much of anything about this place.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s worth a shot.¡± Pearl agrees. ¡°Clutter, you can stay behind if you want. You must be getting pretty hungry by now.¡±

    ¡°No, I mean¡­ I¡¯ll stay behind. But¡­¡± He frowns and gently pats his stomach. ¡°I¡¯m not hungry at all. Or thirsty.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow, which quickly shifts into a full-blown scowl. Hungry, thirsty¡­ I haven¡¯t even been a little of either since we got here. Tired and exerted, sure, but nothing related to sustaining myself. I raise a hand, fully expecting to see at least some dirt or grime under my nails, but there¡¯s nothing. It looks like I just stepped out of the shower. Even my face doesn¡¯t feel grimy. A glance at Clutter seems to confirm my observations. His fur is shiny, he doesn¡¯t smell at all, but his clothes are caked in sweat and gore. The quest is keeping us clean and sated.

    ¡°It must be the mana in the air.¡± I note with a deep inhale. ¡°The stuff is feeding and hydrating us, or¡­ maybe just giving our bodies the perfect amount of everything to be comfortable.¡±

    Clutter nods vigorously. ¡°I haven¡¯t had to use the bathroom since we got here.¡±

    I shake my head and chuckle at Clutter¡¯s bluntness. ¡°That¡¯s what I was getting at, yeah. It¡¯s probably why the kitchen was the worse choice, now that I think about it. Good thing the quest didn¡¯t just flip a coin.¡±

    The moment I walk towards the door, Clutter zips back into the tower. He waves goodbye, then sprints up the stairs with a hurried ¡®thump, thump, ow¡¯ of his tail smacking the wall as he turns. I smirk at the image my awareness sends me until he¡¯s out of range, then turn and press my hand to the door. It opens instantly, and the plastic construct turns to face me.

    ¡°He-he-hello again. What can¨C¡±

    I wave my hand to stop it. ¡°Just a quick question. We found a heart buried in a bunch of twisted paindne flesh, and we were wondering if you recognized it from anywhere. Or had any idea where it could fit, since the quest calls it a ¡®key¡¯.¡±

    It nods jerkily. ¡°Please present the organ in qu-question for analysis.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Here.¡± I summon the heart, step out of the door, and put it in the construct¡¯s waiting hands. ¡°Says it¡¯s the heart of a heretic, whatever that means. Do you have any idea what its owner committed heresy against?¡±

    The construct takes the heart with mechanical detachment and stares down at it. I wait patiently for the thing to say something, but as the seconds tick by, it slowly dawns on me that I might¡¯ve just broken it. It wasn¡¯t exactly in the best shape when we first found it. This much new stimulation could¡¯ve been the nail in the coffin.

    ¡°Hey. Are you still there?¡± I lean in and wave my hand over the construct¡¯s eyes. ¡°If you don¡¯t know anything, just give me the heart back. ¡­Hey. ¡­Ah, shit, we broke it.¡±

    I sigh and wrench the heart out of the construct¡¯s hands. It creaks like dry wood when I pry its fingers apart, but it doesn¡¯t resist at all; it just stays in that position like a statue. Once I finally get it out of the thing¡¯s hands it shudders to life, snaps its eyes up to meet mine, and twitches. The plastic in it whirs and spins like spools of wire lapping over its fake skin, and its eyes glimmer with sad intelligence that wasn¡¯t there before.

    ¡°What you seek is deeper. Deeper. Deeper. Deeperdeeperdeeperdeeperdeeper. Deeper even than that.¡± It says in a crystal clear voice. ¡°Heresy is punished. He/she/they/it/nobody has survived the punishment.¡±

    Its head cracks to the side. A jagged split rips through the base of its neck, and rolling waves of thin plastic wiring grasps from each side of the cut to try and pull itself back together. One arm wrenches itself free from its socket and crushes a finger against the ground, splitting it like a banana pressed against a countertop. It should look disgusting, but it just feels¡­ melancholic.

    My class card chimes with a notification. One of the hexagons on my wreath-sphere turns perfectly clear, giving a view into the hollow center.

    ¡°Go there. Go down. Go to the lock. Go nowhere. Go to the heresy.¡± The construct states in rapid-fire succession. ¡°You will find answers. Some of them for your questions. Some of them for questions that haven¡¯t been asked. Some of them for questions that can no longer be asked. Please ask the questions.¡±

    Its head splits down the middle. One eye stares at me, and the other locks onto Pearl. I instinctively take a step back, but Pearl stops me with a hand on my cheek.

    ¡°When you see it. When you hear it. When you feel/sense/become aware of it. Do not forget it, shellraisers.¡±

 Chapter 209: Journey to Nowhere

    The construct¡¯s arm snaps forward. Its fingers close around the heart like a cage, but it doesn¡¯t try to pull it away. I hold it tight, unwilling to give it to this obviously malfunctioning thing, and it starts to beat harder. One quarter at a time inflates to breaths away from rupturing, the metallic material stretched so thin that I can see the inside through it. Then it contracts equally as violently, shooting a stream of clear liquid past my head with enough force to audibly splatter against the wall. The other three join in as soon as the first finishes, but once it starts, there¡¯s no obvious pattern to it.

    While the heart struggles against my fingers and the construct¡¯s, it doesn¡¯t take its eyes off of us. Something¡­ old stares at us through the plastic orbs. My awareness says it isn¡¯t dangerous. Illumisia¡¯s blood boils. And whatever is left of the human in me screams at me to run away.

    I choose to ignore that part. ¡°How do we go down?¡±

    Whirs like a spool of thick wire rapidly retracting reverberate from the construct¡¯s chest. Strands of plastic reach out from both sides of its split head, lace together with a delicate touch that doesn¡¯t fit the construct at all, and carefully pull it back together. More of the plastic wires dance along the thing¡¯s body to repair all the damage it did to itself, but the manic energy from before doesn¡¯t go away. If anything, it feels stronger now.

    ¡°Down. Go down. Down further than you think is possible and even then still go down until there is nothing but nothing beneath your feet and your mind screams at you that the only thing deeper is the very concept of depth itself.¡± The construct¡¯s neck twitches as it rambles, and its mouth splits into a too-deep grin that tears its cheeks apart. ¡°Heresy is the lowest of the low. The greatest of the great punishables as laid out by the creator. As it gave to us, we took from it, and we are to always be grateful for that which it gave us. Praise be to the great system, watcher and architect of all. Watcher and architect of us.¡±

    It throws its hands into the air and snaps its head back as if trying to carry a thousand sunbeams. Every crack squirms with plasticy wires, and just looking at the construct sends uncomfortable trembles down my spine. This is the first example of system worship I¡¯ve seen so far. Coming from a paindne, no less, which¡­ makes sense, actually. The system did uplift them, after all. So why hasn¡¯t any of the other ones I¡¯ve met acted like this?

    ¡­Do any of them even know what the system did to them?

    ¡°You know that we¡¯re shellraisers.¡± Pearl states. ¡°Why do you know that? How do you know that?¡±

    The construct snaps its head forward, and it shifts back into an idle pose. With hands gripping together so hard that its fingers creak and its forearms shudder, it opens its mouth and lets free a deluge of words that scrape against my brain like razorblades and fill my ears with silence. Pearl¡¯s face falls the more it speaks, but I can¡¯t hear it. Whatever secrets it holds, I¡¯m not allowed to hear them.

    Quest progress: Serenade of Shattered Shells.

    Information hidden to you.

    She will guide the way until you can truly walk beside her.

    All the notification does is salt the wound. I dismiss it with a wave of my hand and swallow to get the bad taste out of my mouth, but there¡¯s truly nothing I can do about this. This is basically Pearl¡¯s quest. I¡¯m apparently just here to make sure she can get through it.

    The construct stops. Then both of its eyes focus on me without the rest of its body moving a muscle. ¡°Strength of a painted dane. Mind of a shellraiser. Existence of a human. Think not with hate. Think not with love. Look at what is before you and experience it as it truly is; only then will you find all the different angles it exists from. The first lock cannot be undone with the strength of three minds. Once fifteen minds have gathered in one district, the city will truly come alive. Until then¨Cgo down. Go down. Godowngodowndowndowndowndown¨C¡±

    I pull away as the thing¡¯s speech loops over and over and over again in the exact same perfect tone. Plastic wires inside of it spin free, coating the thing¡¯s body in a layer of nothingness that reminds me of a mummy¡¯s bandages. Its mouth speaks until the wires snap it shut and wrap over it, and its eyes stay locked on mine until they too are consumed by the plastic. As the very last visible piece of the construct is wrapped in wires, it goes deathly still. I watch it for what feels like minutes, waiting for something else insane to happen, but it looks like we¡¯re done here.

    ¡°The hell was that?¡± I mutter to myself in disbelief. ¡°Did something just possess that thing?¡±

    Pearl swallows hard. ¡°You¡¯re closer to the truth than you think. Go to the fifth tile from the door, three rows up, and put your hand on it.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow, but move to do as she says anyway. The tile in question doesn¡¯t look any different from the others, but as I get close to it, the heart starts beating violently and erratically once more. I shoot Pearl a questioning glance. She replies with a confident nod.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing.¡± I say as I push my palm against the tile.

    Sharpness bites down on my mind. Violence and understanding and intelligence form three sides of an equilateral pyramid overlaid on top of my vision, leaving only one point obscured from my view. I instinctively reach out and feel at the thing, but only one side feels real¨Cthe one of understanding.

    Journey Started.

    Trial of understanding completed.

    Existing without understanding is not existing at all. You know this now.

    You feel this now.

    You are this now.

    And you are one step closer to the real.

    Reward: on the hour, for fifteen hours.

    You are three from the real.

    Go forth, young painted dane, and make it so.

    I flinch back from the sensations as they all leave in one void-making swirl. My eyes water as if I¡¯ve been crying for minutes, but no tears roll down my cheeks. Assumptions and theories cloud my mind at the choice of words, but I¡¯m not confident enough to put any of them into the world just yet. Not until I can confirm if that was the quest talking¨Cor whatever was here long before it.

    ¡°Did you feel it?¡±

    I turn to Pearl, whose face is a mixture of anxiety and optimism. ¡°I felt¡­ something. It¡¯s probably the thing the construct was put here to do in the first place, but if it¡¯s still here¨Cand still working¨Cthen what was it talking about being broken?¡±

    ¡°Because the quest and the system fixed almost everything.¡± Pearl swallows hard and offers me an unconfident smile. ¡°But they don¡¯t want to give away everything yet. Heck, even with the heart letting the construct talk a little more than the system intended, I don¡¯t fully know what happened here. Just that something did, and it was partially responsible for the city being lost. The construct made sure to put a lot of emphasis on the word partially.¡±

    ¡­Partially. The incident was only partially responsible? The hell does that mean? Is there some second incident that we haven¡¯t even been hinted at yet? I stare at the completely normal looking tile that just spouted a bunch of random stuff at me and clench my jaw; there¡¯s so much we don¡¯t even know we¡¯re missing about this place. But through all the confusion¨Call the new information¨Ctwo words stick out to me like a roaring flame.

    ¡°The thing called me a painted dane.¡±

    Pearl¡¯s eyebrows shoot to her forehead. ¡°Not a shellraiser?¡±

    I shake my head and walk back to the door, sparing nothing but a parting glance for the wrapped up construct. ¡°Not a paindne or a human, either. It latched onto the part of me that I got from Illumisia specifically. That has to mean something.¡±

    ¡°Hrm. You¡¯re right. But we should keep this from Clutter¨Cjust in case something goes wrong and we get his hopes up¨Cor traumatize him¨Cfor absolutely no reason.¡± Pearl says with the certainty of someone who has already made up her mind. ¡°We have two leads to go by now¨Cand the knowledge that the heart can react to things even our awarenesses can¡¯t sense. Let¡¯s go get Clutter and find somewhere to go down.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Down?¡± Clutter frowns as he follows me down the stairs. ¡°You¡¯re sure it told you to go down? Really, really sure?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, damn sure. It might¡¯ve said it a few times.¡± I say sarcastically.

    Pearl giggles. Clutter¡¯s frown only deepens.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even think to go further down.¡± He mumbles to himself. ¡°Why didn¡¯t I try going further down?¡±

    I shrug. ¡°Maybe you just got excited and overlooked it. We¡¯ve got a lot of ground to cover, and the quest could turn on ¡®hunger¡¯ and ¡®thirst¡¯ as problems whenever it wants to. So every minute we¡¯re lounging around here is a minute we could be doing something important.¡±

    ¡°Important? Did a lot happen in those five minutes you were gone?¡± Clutter asks.

    ¡°Quite a bit, yeah. We found out that the next part of the quest¡¯s going to happen when fifteen people are in one district.¡±

    He gasps in surprise. Maybe I would¡¯ve had the same reaction if the news hadn¡¯t been delivered to me by a half-possessed, half-malfunctioning construct.

    ¡°Then Stonestep Solutions will definitely be the first to advance.¡± Clutter balls his fists and nods in determination. ¡°We have to find out where they are before they get fifteen people. There has to be some way to see which districts people are in.¡±

    I almost open my mouth to correct Clutter¨Cthat the quest will progress whether we¡¯re there or not¨Cbut a wriggling thought stops me. Just because the quest progresses, doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re going to be in the part of the city that changes. He could be completely right; maybe only the district that fifteen people gather in will change. And if there¡¯s even a small chance of that, we need to be two¨Cno, three¨Cof those fifteen people.

    ¡°We¡¯ll look into it as soon as we can. First, though, we need to see if we can go deeper than ground level.¡± I say as I bend down and get ready to open a door on the floor. ¡°I¡¯m going to go straight down. Bend your knees.¡±

    Clutter nods and shimmies up right next to me. He crouches down, careful not to bend over me in any way, then gives me a thumbs-up of confirmation. I nod back at him, then focus on opening a door underneath me. The heart slowly beats in a shield container at my belt, and the wreath-sphere is right next to it as another item of potential import. If either one of them reacts, we¡¯ll have to make a little detour. Not sure if I want that to happen or not.

    The door opens soundlessly. I fall as elegantly as I can manage to land with bent knees, then press my hand on the floor again when Clutter catches his balance. He quietly yelps when I open up the second door, but doesn¡¯t complain one bit. His landing¡¯s a little better this time, and so is mine. I briefly consider how we¡¯re going to determine if we¡¯ve gone below ground level or not; all these places look pretty much the same. With how much emphasis the construct put on it, though, I have a feeling we¡¯ll know when we get there.

 Chapter 210: Under the Walls

    Door after door, floor after floor, barely anything changes. The layouts are slightly different, and the tendrils from the tower grow few and far between, but nothing truly important jumps out at me. My knees and feet wince a little more with every impact. Clutter¡¯s grunts of exertion and whines of pain grow much faster. Minutes fly by.

    A door opens under my hand just like all the others. I fall into a new space, but this one is much different from the others. The walls are far more enclosed and end in spaces just wide enough for a door. I slowly stand up, look around, and nod to myself.

    ¡°The apartments.¡±

    Clutter¡¯s eyes snap up from the floor. ¡°We¡¯re here already?¡±

    ¡°Apparently. That means we¡¯re damn close to the ground floor. Get ready.¡± I rub my wrists and take a steadying breath. ¡°We don¡¯t know if we can even get deeper than ground level, but if we can, we need to be ready for anything.¡±

    Pearl nods in agreement. ¡°Most likely more of those twisted paindne¨Cor constructs, or plastic stains.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, ready for anything.¡±

    We stop for a minute to let Clutter catch his breath, but soon enough, we¡¯re all good to go. I tap my coin holster with my fingertips as a silent reminder to myself, then bend down and open up a door. It reveals a tunnel just like the first one Clutter and I entered through the wall, which means we¡¯re right here. Only one more to go.

    Clutter licks his lips and flexes his fingers. I share a look with Pearl, who smiles confidently and raises both her fists in encouragement. Alright. Guess this is it. I press my hand to the ground, feel a little magic glimmer in Clamber¡¯s armlet, and watch as an outline of my hand etches itself onto the ground.

    No circle follows. I raise an eyebrow and try to focus, but none of the other doors needed anything but a touch. A slash of grey magic violently slices across the floor, digging a deep gouge into the tiles that sends up a spray of debris. Two more quickly join it, just as violent as the first, and two more join them the moment they finish.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t normal!¡± Clutter states worriedly. ¡°Is this supposed to be happening?¡±

    I don¡¯t have an answer for him. We never tried going deeper at the ground level when we first got here, so we have no idea if this would¡¯ve happened then or not. And my Class Card isn¡¯t giving me any notifications either. So¡­ I guess this is what¡¯s supposed to happen.

    One final line slashes to connect all the others. In a perfect hexagon that surrounds the three of us. My awareness flickers as the ground gives way, but not like before. The chunk falls with us, almost like our feet are glued to it, and¡­ absolute darkness surrounds us. One so deep and all-consuming that I can¡¯t even tell how far the closest thing is¨Cor if there¡¯s anything at all in here. If it wasn¡¯t for the sensation in the pit of my stomach and the wind in my hair I wouldn¡¯t even know we were falling.

    Now Entering ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

    LEAVE.

    Dull, stinging pain lances through my skull. I grit my teeth and stare through the darkness as the notification rumbles and shudders on my vision. That didn¡¯t feel like the system was saying something. Nor the quest. It feels like¡­ an automated message. A warning set to play the moment anyone was stupid enough to fall headlong into the darkness. Which means whatever was here before doesn¡¯t want anyone here.

    A wolfish grin splits my face. We¡¯re definitely in the right place. I take a second to actually feel around this place. Silence and darkness is all my awareness can touch, but I don¡¯t feel any walls.

    ¡°Pearl, can you feel anything?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to right now.¡± She answers immediately. ¡°Absolutely nothing right now, though. It¡¯s¡­ completely empty. Why?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Hell if I know. Clutter, you hanging on?¡±

    He grimaces. ¡°Kind of. It feels like I have a horrible sinus headache, but other than that¡­ I guess I¡¯m okay. Um¡­ why can I still see you?¡±

    See me? What is he talking about? His eyes trail skyward, and I follow his¡­ gaze. All the way up to a completely blank nothingness where there should be a hexagonal piece missing. Absolutely no light filters down. Yet I can still make out Clutter, Pearl, and the hexagon we¡¯re standing on. When we should be in absolute darkness.

    ¡°That is weird.¡± I mutter in agreement. ¡°I can¡¯t feel any magic out of the normal, either. How the hell are we supposed to find anything in here?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea. We could¡­ um¡­ hm.¡± Pearl frowns and turns her head. ¡°There really isn¡¯t anything here at all. Did the system just not remake whatever was actually down here?¡±

    Well, that¡¯s a terrifying thought. We could be falling through literal nothingness right now¨Cand since the roof seems to have closed in behind us, if I didn¡¯t have relocation coins in the tower, we¡¯d be stuck here. Then¡­ why the hell did the ground open up in the first place? Wouldn¡¯t the system just make it so that was impossible?

    Then again, the door wasn¡¯t normal. Maybe something we did altered the rules. I cross my arms and tap my foot against the hexagon as I try to think; this place exists for a reason. Something either currently is¨Cor used to¨Cexist below ground level. The construct confirmed as much, and it did so with information anyone could¡¯ve gotten out of it. I refuse to believe the quest would have a random dead end accessible to literally everyone.

    ¡­Except the construct called out me and Pearl as Shellraisers. Shit. That rips a gigantic hole in all my reasoning.

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    ¡°There has to be something here. If there wasn¡¯t, there just wouldn¡¯t be anything here.¡± I frown at the sound of my own words. ¡°I guess that¡¯s obvious. Pearl, can you do the awareness thing again?¡±

    ¡°The thing? Oh, you mean what I did with the beacon. Can you¡­ I guess it is a quest item¡­¡± She purses her lips in thought. ¡°If you can bring it out, I think I can do the thing again.¡±

    I nod and pull out my Class Card. A quick swipe over to my quests rewards me with an almost completely grey screen¨Cexcept for two things. Our current quest, and the Serenade of Shattered Shells are both visible. And the beacon now sits comfortably under the Serenade. I pull it out, all the potential of it being attached to that quest not lost on me, and raise it for Pearl. She taps on it a few times, then hums deep in her throat.

    ¡°Can you access the power core too?¡±

    Good question. I swipe back to my inventory, but I can¡¯t see the power core anywhere. ¡°That¡¯s still greyed out. Are we screwed?¡±

    Pearl grimaces and shakes her head. ¡°I can power it myself, but only for a few seconds. If the beacon works, though, those few seconds should be enough. Ready?¡±

    I nod. Pearl takes a deep breath, puts one hand on the beacon, and the other on me. She shudders as a snap of electricity courses through her body, and the beacon blossoms with light as my awareness flares. The emptiness surrounding us pushes back even stronger, but my awareness eats away at it like a crackling fire. Thousands upon thousands of¡­ things¡­ scurry away from my awareness as the beacon projects the idea of ¡®me¡¯ to every square inch of it.

    The darkness scuttles away like millions of tiny insects making a perfect wave. Somehow, they still give off a feeling of emptiness, but as a physical thing. I shudder at the sound of silence receding, giving way to a scratching click that I¡¯ve only heard in my worst bug-filled nightmares. Clutter doesn¡¯t even seem bothered by it, either; he¡¯s just fascinated with the pure, unadulterated grey they leave in their wake.

    ¡°We¡¯re¡­ on the ground?¡± He murmurs in disbelief. ¡°But your hair¡­ and my stomach still feels weird.¡±

    Pearl grunts, and my enhanced awareness cuts off. She slumps forward a little, but when I move to help, she holds up a hand to stop me.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t overdo it this time. It¡¯s safe to step off now.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Onto the glowing grey floor?¡±

    She nods. Well, alright then. I step off, everything in my body screaming that I¡¯m still falling. My feet touch solid ground. The sensations don¡¯t let up. I grimace and run my hand through my hair in an attempt to get it under control, but the second I let go, it streams upwards once more.

    ¡°So the grey is messing with us. The hell is it?¡± I ask as I carefully walk further. The darkness shies away from the very edge of my awareness, and closes in behind it. ¡°I guess I¡¯m the beacon here. Clutter, you¡­ what the hell are you doing?¡±

    He looks up at me from the hexagon. Where he¡¯s pressed his entire body against it for dear life. ¡°It¡¯s a hexagon.¡±

    ¡°...Yes? And?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to do what you did with the map. We already talked about this.¡± He says insistently and presses his cheek back against the hexagon. ¡°I think it¡¯s working. My body¡¯s tingling with some kind of foreign energy.¡±

    My awareness says absolutely nothing¡¯s happening to him. I focus on the edge of the darkness and feel if it¡¯s pushing back at me¨Cbut right now, it feels completely at bay. So I can give Clutter a few seconds to test out his theory. He stays plastered against the hexagon, letting out periodic grunts as he shifts ever so slightly for reasons I can¡¯t comprehend. After a minute, he lets out a disappointed sigh and stands up.

    ¡°Nothing happened.¡± He says dejectedly. ¡°I thought it would work.¡±

    I reach over and pat him on the shoulder while not so subtly steering him off the hexagon. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. We¡¯ll get Illumisia here soon enough, and you can ask her about it when she¡¯s here.¡±

    He nods and starts walking on his own¨Cbut not in the direction I was pushing him. If where I was going is forward, he takes a sharp right and nearly jogs off in the seemingly random direction. Pearl and I share a glance of confusion; it didn¡¯t feel like he was going against my lead, just¡­ doing something else. For a reason I can¡¯t fathom.

    ¡°Do we follow him?¡± I ask.

    Pearl considers that for a good long moment. Clutter reaches the edge of the darkness fairly quickly, then turns back to stare at me like I¡¯m the one who¡¯s going crazy. Something in his eyes unnerves me, but in a good way¨Cand no, I can¡¯t explain how that works. My awareness shudders at whatever¡¯s pulling him in that direction, but it also wants to go that way too. I take a step without waiting for Pearl to say anything.

    She squeaks in surprise. ¡°You¡¯re just following him? For no reason?¡±

    ¡°I guess I am.¡± I chuckle as Clutter starts to walk again now that he¡¯s got more to work with. ¡°If this place was actually built for paindne, then maybe he¡¯s got some¡­ sixth sense for navigating it. Unless you¡¯ve got something else?¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t. I¡¯m just¡­ I don¡¯t trust this.¡± She hugs herself tight and shivers. ¡°Something about this place is just wrong. It shouldn¡¯t have reacted to your awareness like this. Nobody else in the quest has an awareness like we do.¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°We just phased something into being. Like we did in the well. Other people have other ways of doing that.¡±

    Pearl grimaces. ¡°I really hope you¡¯re right. Something tells me you couldn¡¯t be any more wrong.¡±

    Clutter jogs ahead at a constant, willful pace. Even though it¡¯s my awareness that¡¯s letting him move forward, it feels like I have to speed up to keep up with him. He doesn''t turn back, doesn¡¯t say anything, and doesn¡¯t make any wasted movements as he runs. If I¡¯d felt any magic at all, I would¡¯ve thought something possessed him. But this single-minded focus¡­ he¡¯s like a hunting dog locked onto his prey.

    Even though it¡¯s barely a whisper in my mind, I can almost feel it too. Something in the distance, amidst the nothing¨Clike a table in a pitch-black room. I can¡¯t explain it for shit, but then again, I can¡¯t explain anything here. The darkness bugs, the pure grey floor that somehow doesn¡¯t feel like magic, the constant sensation of falling¡­ none of it fits together. Especially not with the city of walls we¡¯ve been exploring up until now.

    This almost feels like a different quest altogether.

    Glass appears. Thin glass as fragile as the morning frost. Clutter grinds to a halt less than a step from it and stares into the material as my awareness pushes away the darkness. As more and more of it is revealed, the less I understand.

    Moments later, we¡¯re staring at a car-sized glass sphere sitting atop a simple platform of the same material that the city walls are made of. There¡¯s no darkness left in the sphere, which shouldn¡¯t work if they¡¯re physical things, but it did. My mind locks onto a console at the other end¨Cone that looks almost exactly like the console on the shellraiser power core containment device back in the workshop. Pearl silently mouths the words, then blanches.

    ¡°It¡¯s a prototype.¡±

    Unearned dread wriggles into my stomach. ¡°For what?¡±

    She swallows hard. ¡°An oath-bound containment device. The exact same thing that imprisoned Illumisia.¡±

 Chapter 211: Why Here

    Clutter whips around at the mention of Illumisia¡¯s name. His eyes take a moment to focus, but once they do, the intensity is palpable.

    ¡°Why is it here?¡± He demands.

    Pearl slowly shakes her head. ¡°I have absolutely no clue. I didn¡¯t even see the one Illumisia was trapped in, but from her description and the panel right over there, I¡¯m confident this is the exact same thing.¡±

    ¡°So why is it here?!¡± Clutter repeats, though this time, confusion tints his words. ¡°This place apparently hasn¡¯t existed for hundreds of years. How could a prototype for something that trapped Illumisia be here?¡±

    ¡­Oh. That¡¯s what he was getting at. I thought Illumisia already told him everything about herself; obviously that isn¡¯t true. But is it my place to spill her secrets? He already knows about Pearl¡­ so¡­

    ¡°Illumisia isn¡¯t named after anyone.¡±

    Clutter and I both stare at Pearl, whose voice cut clean through the tension like a hot knife. The confusion in Clutter¡¯s expression shifts to bewilderment, then denial, and finally absolute disbelief. It¡¯s honestly impressive how quickly he cycles through them.

    ¡°She¡­ no¡­ I¡­¡± He swallows hard. ¡°She said she was old. Like, really old. I thought she meant¡­ maybe three hundred years old. Is she¡­ really¡­¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°The megalodane.¡±

    A squeak reminiscent of a dying chew toy squeezes out of Clutter¡¯s throat. I can¡¯t tell if he¡¯s utterly terrified, excited out of his mind, or thinking back on every single one of his encounters with Illumisia. Personally, I¡¯d be a good mixture of the three.

    ¡°The first ancestor.¡± Clutter whispers. ¡°I thought that was just a story. Is it true?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± I trail off as he looks up at me, his eyes glittering with childlike wonder. ¡°I¡­ we¡­ yeah. She¡¯s the first of her kind, that¡¯s for sure.¡±

    Pearl shoots me a glance as Clutter squeals. It isn¡¯t a look of disappointment or approval; just one of someone who wouldn¡¯t have done anything different if she were in my shoes. He just learned about Illumisia¡¯s real identity. There¡¯s no sense absolutely destroying him by telling him that the system made the paindne, not descending from Illumisia.

    ¡°Oh, wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow. Why¡¯d she keep it a secret? No, no, don¡¯t tell me.¡± He holds out a hand to stop us. ¡°I bet she has some kind of secret mission against whoever lived here before it disappeared. Ooh, maybe she¡¯s the one that destroyed this place in the first place! The megalodane is strong enough to do that! ¡­At least in the comics she is.¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Comics?¡±

    Clutter nods vigorously. ¡°Comics, books, plays; she¡¯s in a lot of them. It explains why Illumisia¨Cthe Illumisia, I can¡¯t believe it¨Chated them so much. I wonder how much they got wrong. Probably a lot. Oh wow, I just thought she was a super powerful painted dane, like a descendant of the real thing, but¡­ wow. Just wow.¡±

    He rubs his hands together, all the intensity from a moment ago completely forgotten. I don¡¯t envy the me in the future that has to tell him the truth about paindne, but that¡¯s a problem for her. Right now, we¡¯ve got to deal with this¨Cthe fact that the plastic construct said there was a heretic down here, yet all we¡¯ve found is a containment device. Was it actually made here, or did the quest repurpose it from when it made Illumisia? Clutter and Pearl seem to think it¡¯s the former, and if it¡¯s true¡­

    What the hell was this place before it was destroyed?

    I set my jaw and finally put my hand up against the prison. It feels just as fragile as my awareness said it was. Illumisia said she was only trapped because of her oath with Pearl, so¡­ if this is a prototype of that, then is it made of shellraiser glass?

    ¡°Pearl, is this shellraiser glass?¡±

    She snorts in disdain. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t make something so fragile. This is a¡­ proof of concept. They must¡¯ve made something like the bond Illumisia and I have, then used similar conditions to make the glass here.¡±

    ¡°Mm. If that¡¯s true, then where¡¯s the thing inside?¡± I gently tap the prison with my knuckles, and the glass resonates with a shrill note. ¡°I don¡¯t see an entrance anywhere, so whatever they wanted to imprison should already be in here.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She says quietly.

    I give it a second for her to elaborate, but that¡¯s it. No theorizing, no explanation¨Cjust ¡®I don¡¯t know¡¯. All this grey down here¡­ the darkness that skitters away like a swarm of bugs¡­ it feels so wrong. Almost like the city of walls above us isn¡¯t even part of the same quest. But the construct said the heretic was down here. The same heretic whose heart we found during the main quest, and which actually works up there. Even if the two places feel like they¡¯re universes apart, they¡¯re both part of this quest.

    We just have to figure out how they connect. And we have to do it before the horizonguard gathers too many people.

    ¡°There has to be more, then. Or something around here that makes this make sense.¡± I nod at Clutter, then point into the distance. ¡°How¡¯d you know to walk in this direction?¡±

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    Clutter blinks. ¡°I what?¡±

    ¡°You beelined for this place when I tried to go a different direction.¡±

    ¡°Oh. That. I just kind of went where my instinct told me to go?¡± He shrugs helplessly. ¡°Something told me there was something here, but I can¡¯t give you any real reason.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine with me. Do it again.¡±

    He raises an eyebrow. ¡°Are you sure? I could lead us to absolutely nowhere.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but you led us here.¡± I pat the glass for emphasis. ¡°Anything else we do would be walking in a random direction hoping for something to show up anyway, so we might as well follow you while we do it.¡±

    Clutter slowly nods as he turns to Pearl for confirmation. She returns his nod absentmindedly, her focus somewhere else.

    ¡°Okay. Here we go.¡± Clutter flexes his fingers and looks around, then stiffens. His pupils shrink to tiny pinpoints as he stares off into the distance. ¡°There¡¯s something else there. At least¡­ I think there is. Maybe I¡¯m wrong. Oh, I hope I¡¯m not wrong.¡±

    He starts walking as he mumbles to himself, picking up speed with each footstep until he¡¯s sprinting full-tilt towards the edge of my awareness. I stumble with my first step out of utter surprise, then sprint right after him. His chest heaves with exertion, tongue lolling limply out of the side of his mouth as his ¡®instincts¡¯ drive him towards something neither Pearl nor I can sense.

    Pearl gently taps my cheek. ¡°It¡¯s all a lie, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    I tilt my head. ¡°Elaborate.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ okay, maybe ¡®lie¡¯ isn¡¯t the right word, but it¡¯s not what Clutter thinks it is.¡± She points at his back, where the start of a shadow dances over his clothes. ¡°Whatever Illumisia did to him is giving him these sensations. But they shouldn¡¯t be stronger than either of our awarenesses¡­ so¡­¡±

    ¡°Whatever¡¯s here is specifically calling out to him. To a paindne.¡±

    She nods. ¡°If it was calling to painted danes, you¡¯d be the one feeling it, not him. Heck, maybe Illumisia¡¯s shadow thing isn¡¯t doing anything at all, and it¡¯s just the fact that he¡¯s a paindne. It still doesn¡¯t explain anything though.¡±

    ¡°No, it does not.¡± I agree with a sigh. ¡°If the paindne lived here before, then why the hell would they have something like this under their city?¡±

    Neither of us have an answer. As Clutter¡¯s breathing grows louder with exertion, the grey shifts ever so slightly. A single line appears out of nowhere, tracing through the grey like a stray hair on a computer monitor. It trails off into the distance, very slightly elevated from the floor itself, but doesn¡¯t feel any different from the rest of the grey. Just a slight anomaly.

    Then another joins. And another. Soon enough, dozens of raised lines in the ground trace through the grey like a labyrinth of tree roots. The ground, once purely flat, is now uneven and shifty like a dry forest floor. Clutter runs on undeterred, as if enticed by some prize that¡¯s invisible to everyone but him. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth as a¡­ scent hits me from somewhere close.

    It doesn¡¯t smell like anything. But my nose wrinkles and my eyes water all the same.

    ¡°Clutter!¡± I call out, then stifle a cough. ¡°How much further is it?¡±

    He turns, eyes wide, and spreads his arms. ¡°Can¡¯t you feel it?! We¡¯re already here!¡±

    Slowly but surely, he takes down the pace until he¡¯s barely sauntering towards the darkness. I raise my shirt over my mouth as I walk beside him and try to see¡­ well¡­ anything through the darkness. All I can make out is the ground underneath our feet that¡¯s like someone lacquered a yarn factory¡¯s floor after a failure with the balling machine. Clutter, though, whips his head around and makes small noises from his throat as if he¡¯s walking through some kind of museum.

    ¡°Wow. Amazing. How¡¯d they manage to do that?¡± He coos in wonder as he trails a pointed finger through empty air. ¡°Ooh, there¡¯s a button here! I¡¯m going to push it.¡±

    I blink, then snap to him. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t just¨C¡±

    ERNGH!

    ¡­Excuse me, what? The sound of¡­ something¡­ echoes through the darkness like a foghorn. Clutter flinches away and covers his ears, even though it was only about as loud as a car horn. I put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, and before my very eyes, the rest of the darkness skitters away. Revealing a bright blue button on a foot-wide pillar jutting out of the ground right next to Clutter.

    Except that part wasn¡¯t covered by the darkness. And the massive structure that¡¯s less than five feet away from the button wasn¡¯t either. I stare, dumbfounded, as what looks like two lighthouses separated by a few hundred feet of glistening grey wall appears out of nowhere. My awareness flickers, and I turn around¡­ to see¡­ the glass prison. Fifty feet from where we stand. With my handprint marking it as definitively the same one as we just ran away from¡­ five minutes ago. At full-tilt.

    ¡°How¡­¡± I trail off as I remember the sensation of falling. The one that, even now, unsettles my stomach. ¡°This place is messing with us.¡±

    Pearl laughs humorlessly. ¡°That might be an understatement. I can see all the walls now, and this place can¡¯t be any bigger than a few miles across. But it felt so huge. What if we¡­ went underground at a different spot? Is this weird place only directly underneath our tower?¡±

    ¡°I wish I had an answer for you.¡± I mutter as Clutter walks up to the glistening wall and fearlessly puts his hand on it. ¡°Have a little sense of worry, why don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°This place won¡¯t hurt me.¡± Clutter says confidently as a hexagonal door slashes itself into the wall. ¡°It feels like it was¡­ made for me. Not, um, me specifically, but¡­ it¡¯s hard to explain. Come on. I know there¡¯s something important in here.¡±

    I glance back at the glass prison, still completely confused as to why it¡¯s here in the first place. With a shake of my head I walk through the doorway, then wait a second for Clutter to come through as well. He confidently walks right past me and beelines for the direct center of the thing, which has six lighthouse-like towers each at a point to create one big hexagon enclosed by walls.

    Pearl recoils with a gasp. Clutter turns with concern written on his face, and I bring my hand up in case Pearl collapses. She shakes her head and pushes my thumb away, then gestures vigorously at the center of the hexagon.

    ¡°It¡¯s here. So much magic.¡± She says with unrestrained awe. ¡°But it¡¯s out of phase, and even still, there¡¯s so much magic.¡±

    I mentally reach for my relocation coins. ¡°Do we run?¡±

    ¡°No. No, no, no.¡± A grin spreads across her face as she leans into my neck. ¡°We need to find the right place to stand. The quest¨Cit made a mistake letting us see this. I¡¯m going to make sure of that.¡±

 Chapter 212: Just Plastic

    Twinges of magic nestle into my skin as I walk forward. As if the empty space was a forest filled with needle-trees and I¡¯m walking through it with nothing but a tank top on. I reach up and press on my unoccupied shoulder as the sensation grows, and grows, and¡­ prickles. Something¡¯s not just off¨Cit¡¯s completely wrong.

    ¡°What are we looking at?¡± I ask nervously. ¡°If I can feel the sensation through wherever it¡¯s phased in, then it¡¯s gotta be unbelievably dangerous.¡±

    Pearl giggles. ¡°Dangerous? Maybe. It¡¯s about as dangerous as anyone who¡¯d pick it up could be¨Cand I intend to be extremely dangerous with it.¡±

    I grimace as I lower my arm. ¡°But what if this is another system trap? It wouldn¡¯t just leave some giant weapon here for anyone to take without some diabolic intent. Especially not so close to the damn starting point for the quest.¡±

    ¡°But didn¡¯t we need plastic to get here?¡± Clutter asks. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t that make it hard for anyone to get here?¡±

    ¡°...Clutter, every single person in this quest found at least a little plastic.¡±

    He presses his mouth shut as his cheeks colour. ¡°Oh. Um. Right, sorry, I forgot about that. So¡­ what would¡¯ve happened if I decided to go down right when we got here? Would I still be rummaging around in the darkness?¡±

    ¡°Probably.¡± I say humorlessly. ¡°My awareness is the only thing that shoved away the¡­ dark-bugs, whatever they were. How the hell was anyone supposed to find anything down here?¡±

    I take a high step over something and turn to face¡­ nothing. A glance back shows I stepped over nothing, too. Huh. Is the magic here so strong that it¡¯s messing with my senses?

    ¡°I think this is a much-later-thing.¡± Pearl muses as she drums her fingers against her bottom lip. ¡°We were probably supposed to get an item¨Cmaybe, like the eyes of the heretic¨Cand that¡¯d lead us down here. Or maybe this was supposed to be a trap to get all the dumb, jumps-in-to-quickly people out of the running.¡±

    Clutter turns and looks at me. I scoff and motion upwards. ¡°I¡¯ve got relocation coins in the tower. We can get out of here at any time, but anyone else definitely wouldn¡¯t be able to. Speaking of; Pearl, any sign of a ¡®heretic¡¯ you can see?¡±

    She shakes her head. I raise an eyebrow; that¡¯s kind of where I thought this was going. That the heretic was imprisoned right here next to us, just phased differently.

    ¡°Take another fifteen steps forward then turn to face the center of the walls.¡± Pearl says. I follow her command to perfection, and she nods to herself. ¡°The phase point is about fifteen feet in the air. Can you get that high without wasting a coin?¡±

    Clutter raises his hand eagerly. ¡°Ooh, I can help! With my arms stretched tall, we can almost reach fifteen feet. Then all she has to do is jump!¡±

    I take a second to consider it, then wave him over. He smiles and drops to his knees, his palms on the ground for me to step on. Without a second¡¯s hesitation I carefully place my feet on his hands. A grunt of discomfort escapes through his clenched teeth, and with one swift motion, he stands up as straight as an arrow¨Cnearly throwing me into the air in the process. Somehow I manage to keep my balance.

    As I get ready to jump, Pearl motions towards the center of the walls. ¡°Move half a step closer, Clutter. We¡¯re a little out of position.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± He takes a very wobbly step forward. ¡°Is this right?¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°Perfect. I¡¯m going to put a little dot of me on your eye so you don¡¯t look in the wrong place. Just stare at it the entire time and we¡¯ll be good.¡±

    I nod as Pearl crawls up my shoulder and tenderly touches a finger to my eye. She leaves behind a tiny speck of shellraiser goo that shifts ever so slightly as I move my head around to see how it reacts.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just look at it? What¡¯s the need for this?¡±

    ¡°Insurance.¡± She says simply. ¡°Get ready to jump.¡±

    With the ominous implication that something could go horribly wrong, I nod down at Clutter. He grins up at me, his arms already shaking from the effort, and locks his elbows to give me a more sturdy launch pad. I give him a thumbs-up, lift my chin to stare straight at the black dot, and¨C

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    One Hour has passed.

    I wave away the system popup. Damn thing could¡¯ve messed everything up if I wasn¡¯t so slow at this. Aaaand now my rhythm¡¯s all screwed up. Wonderful. I take a steadying breath, re-lock my eyes on the black dot, and bend my knees to put all my effort into a jump.

    Clutter yelps in surprise as I shove into the air, sailing a good ten feet off his hands. I blink in surprise; I didn¡¯t think I could do that, either, but¡­ I guess I can.

    ¡°Shelby!¡±

    Right. I refocus on the black dot and stare directly at the center of the wall. Nothing happens as I reach my apex¨Cprobably because I got distracted¨Cand then I start to fall. It¡¯s a strange sensation, falling when you already feel like you¡¯re falling. My stomach turns in knots, and my fingers instinctively splay out as if they¡¯re ready to scrabble for any upcoming ledge. All my muscles tense at the same time, sending a jolt of discomfort up my spine and into my brain as something so overwhelming, so splendid, so horrible¨Cso grey and malleable¨Clances itself into my eyes and uses me as a stepping stone to anchor itself to reality.

    Clutter screams as thick cables of plasticy wire coat the ground. I feel him get crushed by most of them, and in the moment before he would actually die, I relocate him to the tower. At least, I try to. The spell doesn¡¯t fire. I snap to scream his name, but¡­ there he stands. Arms covering his face, shuddering with fear, standing atop a thick pile of cables as I come careening down on top of him.

    ¡°Shit!¡± I mutter as I scramble off him. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    He blinks twice as he looks at his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Is this what happens after I die?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°It isn¡¯t a shitty-ish hotel room, so we¡¯re fine.¡±

    The confused look he shoots me is only contested by his absolute confusion at¡­ well¡­ everything that just happened. All the walls, all the open space, the lighthouses¡­ I can¡¯t see any of them through a veritable jungle of wires, pipes, and cables¨Call made to look like different materials, but all obviously made of the squirming plastic. It shifts, twitches, and pulses like a living thing as I get my feet under me and struggle to stand on the newly squishy ground.

    ¡°Is all this plastic?¡± Clutter asks in disbelief as he also struggles to his feet. ¡°Where the heck did all of it come from?¡±

    Pearl silently points towards the center of the walls. I can¡¯t see anything through the tangle of plastic, but I can¡­ just¡­ feel the magic further in. It feels like everything¨Clike life and existence itself¨Cexcept with all the important bits stripped away. Almost like someone took a thick, chunky stew and drained all the chunks with the finest strainer known to man.

    ¡°Is that the source of all the plastic?¡± I murmur in awe.

    Pearl¡­ shakes her head. It¡¯s slow, stunned, but certain. All her bravado from a second ago is completely gone, and in its place is¡­ dreadful certainty. She knows exactly what it is. And that scares her.

    ¡°We¡¯re in a lab.¡± She says quietly. ¡°A testing lab. Somewhere for the system to fiddle with the things it found in this world. I¡­ should¡¯ve known. All the plastic, the containment sphere, even the walled city¡­ it''s all to create things. Things our world wouldn¡¯t accept.¡±

    I slowly turn to look at her. ¡°What is it, Pearl?¡±

    A sardonic grin with utter disgust splits her face. ¡°I thought it was everything I¡¯ve hoped for since I met you. But it¡¯s actually my absolute worst fear turned real. Shelby, before we get out of here¡­ we need to find the source of the plastic and put it out of its misery.¡±

    ¡°...It?¡±

    She nods. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s the same as the heretic, or if the heretic is something else completely, but¡­ I¡­¡± She swallows hard, eyes glossing over with tears. ¡°Just go look. You¡¯ll understand when you see it.¡±

    Fresh dread needles my spine. Clutter turns to see what I¡¯m going to do, and a good chunk of me wants to teleport us the hell out of here. I reach for my relocations in the tower, and whatever stopped me from teleporting Clutter out of here a second ago is no longer active. It would be so easy to run away. But I¡¯m not going to. I clench my jaw, push a slightly squishy hanging wire to the side, and make my way towards the center.

    My awareness feels it before I see it. Misery¨Cutter misery¨Cshakes me to my very core as the mass weighs on my mind. Suffering like no other; constant and eternal and not even aware of why it exists radiates from the mass in a single, mindless pain-wracked emotion. It isn¡¯t complex. There¡¯s no thought behind it. Because it¡¯s a thing. Not a who, but an ¡®it¡¯. An object left behind after the thing inhabiting it goes somewhere else.

    Or the system¡¯s attempt at recreating it. I bite my tongue to remind myself that I, too, feel pain, as I stare at the wall of vine-like wires separating me from the mass. Clutter stares at my back, unable to comprehend what I¡¯m feeling. But how could he? There¡¯s no shellraiser in him. Not even a little.

    Pearl openly sobs. I raise a hand to gently cover her back, and she grabs my fingers with such despair that I feel my own eyes start to water. One last push opens the way. A pulsing mass of hexagonal plates of plastic stands at the perfect center of the compound¨Ca laboratory as much as a prison as much as a graveyard¨Cand finally, I can¡¯t look away. The notification spreads over my eyes, even though I didn¡¯t try to identify it, and offers a simple explanation that thickens my throat and sends a pulse of white-hot rage into my heart.

    Artificial shellraiser project.

    Status: Failure.

 Chapter 213: Not Just Plastic.

    Clutter silently raises his hands to cover his mouth. The implications rain down on me like falling stars, each leaving mental craters that won¡¯t ever fill in. All the plastic we¡¯ve found was the system¡¯s attempt at making shellraisers. And when it failed, either unaware or uncaring of the suffering it created, it turned the stuff into¡­ a material. Nothing more, nothing less.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been using¡­ dead shellraisers?¡± Clutter whispers. ¡°Why would the system do this? I thought it hated the shellraisers?¡±

    ¡°For the same reason it made the paindne.¡± Pearl mutters as quietly as possible. Clutter doesn¡¯t hear. ¡°It wanted us¨Cbut an us that it can perfectly control. So it created¡­ this. A thing that¡¯s not alive, not dead, and constantly suffering.¡±

    ¡°Jesus.¡± I take a step closer. Magic needles at my skin, but I can barely feel it any more. This thing¨Cthis atrocity¨Cneeds to be dealt with. ¡°What do we do, Pearl?¡±

    She motions at it with a closed hand, then spreads her fingers wide as she silently mouths an explosion. I completely agree, but I need to make sure this can¡¯t be a mistake; the system made this place. If it isn¡¯t technically part of the quest, doing anything could have serious consequences.

    I clear my throat, then look towards the ceiling. ¡°Hey, quest. Is this still part of you?¡±

    Clutter stares at me. ¡°Do you really think that¡¯s going to work?¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know.¡± I reply. ¡°Maybe?¡±

    It will.

    I blink in surprise as the notification appears before my eyes. Honestly, I didn¡¯t expect it to work.

    ¡°Uh, hi. We¡¯re kind of in¡­ somewhere we¡¯re not sure we¡¯re supposed to be.¡± I gesture all around me with the assumption that the quest is monitoring us. ¡°Is this still part of the quest, or did we accidentally break the boundaries?¡±

    Boundaries? No. The sequence: that¡¯s a resounding yes, you little problem. How was I supposed to know your awareness-thing would let you do this? But you haven¡¯t broken any rules, and it¡¯s my fault for not knowing, so you¡¯re fine. Have fun with your existential crisis, you rusher.

    The notification box disappears moments after the last word appears, and unless the system is really good at imitating the thing that¡¯s overseeing the quest, that¡¯s confirmation. I take a deep breath through my nose as the mass bombards me with baseless pain, take a pair of projectile coins, and aim them directly at it.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Clutter jumps in front of me with his arms spread wide. ¡°Is this really a good idea? We can¡¯t¡­ do anything with this?¡±

    Pearl bitterly shakes her head. ¡°Even if this is a fake¡­ it suffers like my people do in prolonged death. Even if the stuff the system sent to the world is a modified version of this that isn¡¯t¡­ suffering¡­ this mass is. The least we can do is end it.¡±

    Clutter clenches his jaw without backing down. ¡°There has to be some way to make use of it. I know that¡¯s really harsh, and I¡¯m being super insensitive right now, but you¡¯re running out of Worth. The quest doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯s going to give out much of it until we can get back home and exchange whatever treasures we find for Worth. Maybe we can¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ make coins out of the plastic? U-um, I mean¨C¡±

    ¡°Fake shellraiser.¡± Pearl cuts him off dryly. ¡°That¡¯s a very Illumisia way of looking at it, Clutter.¡±

    He straightens his back with¡­ pride. Pearl silently studies him, then turns to the mass with a pained expression. I can¡¯t tell if she¡¯s hesitating because of some twisted sense of duty to the fake shellraisers the system repurposed into the plastic-y material, or if she just really wants it dead and gone from existence. Destroying it fulfills both possibilities.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to. But you make too much sense for what I want to matter.¡± Pearl turns to me and nods grimly. ¡°Do whatever you can to make use of it. We¡¯ll put it out of its misery later.¡±

    I nod back and Clutter steps out of the way with a relieved look on his face. From how Pearl clutches my earlobe, she¡¯s not fine with this. But she¡¯s shoving all those feelings down at the very true fact that I¡¯m on a time limit. Just destroying this thing won¡¯t give me any Worth¨Cas proven by how all the other things I destroyed didn¡¯t give me any worth¨Cso I need to do¡­ something else to it.

    The only thing I can think of is to get my hands on it and go from there. I take a step towards the mass of hexagonal plates. The magic intensifies, but in the same way that a fire is more intense the closer you get to it. My body twitches in discomfort at the disgusting energy, but it isn¡¯t enough to dissuade me. I cautiously reach out and plant my hand in the perfect middle of a manhole-sized plate.

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    Weak magic jolts down to my elbow. Thin tendrils of plastic lazily reach out from the plate and wrap themselves around my fingers in an almost tender embrace. Though it¡¯s tender in the same way that a soft breeze would blow a willow tree against you. Absolutely no intent or thought behind it.

    I grimace at the sensations and slowly scrape my fingers through the plastic shellraiser. It squelches under my skin, offering a slight resistance for a moment before it gives way and lets me in. The thing doesn¡¯t react. Even the mound back in the graveyard reacted. Does this thing really have¡­

    No commands. No influence. It¡¯s stuck here, potentially for thousands of years, doing absolutely nothing but existing. That¡¯s how we¡¯re going to use it. We just have to find out how to manipulate it. I pull my handful of fake shellraiser away and hold the writhing mass as far away from myself as possible.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to help us.¡± I tell the stuff. ¡°I need Worth. The system changed you somehow into something that can imitate things, but not exactly right. I need you to turn into Worth that I can use.¡±

    The plastic pulsates exactly as it had a moment ago. No change whatsoever. It was a long shot, anyway, so I¡¯m not too worried¨Ceven if the concerned looks I¡¯m getting from Clutter and Pearl would want me to think otherwise. I squish the plastic in my hand twice, just to see if it does anything, then send it to my inventory.

    You do not own this.

    I click my tongue; that¡¯s the exact same problem I had at the shellraiser workshop all the way back when I first came to this world. Truth be told, I can¡¯t think of a way to somehow gain possession of all this stuff. Not unless the quest gives it to us. I go to lower my handful of plastic, but another notification popping up stops me dead in my tracks.

    Serenade of Shattered Shells: Stolen.

    The very being of a shellraiser was stolen to make this mockery.

    What was stolen cannot be rightfully claimed.

    Make a rightful claim, and take back what is rightfully ours.

    Rightfully yours.

    The notification fades away. Pearl stares through the space where it was, and her eyes shine with renewed purpose. She offers me a brilliant smile, then scurries down my arm and places her hand on the plastic. It gently wraps thin tendrils around her wrist, and the magic inside instantly shifts. Instead of needling me it washes over my skin with a cool, damp comfort. There¡¯s still no intelligence in it, but the outright hostility is gone. The suffering remains, though.

    She steps back with a melancholic smile. ¡°It¡¯s done. The system can¡¯t claim ownership over a blatant forgery. We¡¯ll have to remember that the next time we find some knock-off machines.¡±

    I roll my eyes at her attempt at making the situation a little less bleak. She runs back up my arm as I close my eyes and focus on the mass of shellraiser plastic squirming in my hand. I¡¯ve seen a less powerful version of the stuff turn into a paindne construct, a monster, and a powerful mass of magic. But the thought of leaving this stuff ¡®alive¡¯ to suffer is just¡­ wrong. Whatever I shape it into can¡¯t be alive any more. Just like the jewelry Clamber made for us.

    ¡°Coins. Then you can rest.¡±

    The plastic shudders, then blurs into motion. It twists, turns, and reshapes itself into a¡­ hexagonal coin that¡¯s a little bigger than an iron five. An entire handful of the stuff into one simple coin. But the coin is¡­ quiet. Stable.

    Not suffering.

    I bring it close to my chest. Absolutely no magic filters out of it¨Cfor all intents and purposes, it¡¯s just a dull grey hexagonal coin. Not a fake shellraiser any more. I look up at the mass, all that suffering and twitching and writhing, and I don¡¯t hesitate.

    ¡°You, too.¡±

    Two simple words. The mass of fake shellraiser spasms, then erupts into a spray of falling six-sided coins. Hundreds of the things coat the ground near us, and my awareness latches onto each and every one. Not all of them are exactly the same. I count six in total, each with an ascending amount of dots on one side and a simplified version of Pearl¡¯s shell on the other. With a thought, I call them to me.

    Shoreline Risemutation: New possibilities registered.

    Shellrisen Single Hex. Effective Worth: 6.

    Shellrisen Double Hex. Effective Worth: 12.

    Shellrisen Triple Hex. Effective Worth: 18.

    Shellrisen Quadruple Hex. Effective Worth: 24.

    Shellrisen Quintuple Hex. Effective Worth: 30.

    Shellrisen Sextuple Hex. Effective Worth: 36.

    Note: like ghost quarters, none of these can be spent in-system.

    Additional Note: these coins are far more compatible with a shellraiser¡¯s awareness.

    Final note: Evolution available upon completion of current quest.

    As the coins filter into my inventory, I can¡¯t help but smile. Almost a thousand single hexes, then half as much for the next, repeating until the sextuple hex has only a little over thirty coins. But because of the diminishing returns for spells over ten Worth, it works out to about a thousand six-Worth hexes and a thousand ten-or-more-Worth hexes. As long as I don¡¯t go absolutely crazy with spells, I¡¯m good for a damn long time.

    All on the back of the system¡¯s attempt to make shellraisers after it murdered all but one of them.

 Chapter 214: Extra Towers

    I wave away the notification and focus on where the mass stood. A concave base with dozens of pulsating plastic wires now holds nothing, but the plastic connected to it didn¡¯t heed my command. It doesn''t feel like the mass did, either, so whatever modifications the system did to turn it inert must¡¯ve been enough to remove my control over it.

    ¡°I guess I won¡¯t be commanding everything to turn into coins.¡± I chuckle to myself as I try to set a single hex into my coin holster¨Cand fail miserably. ¡°Hexagonal shape doesn¡¯t fit into the round hole. Should¡¯ve seen that coming. Pearl, do you think we can tinker with it?¡±

    ¡°If we have the materials, yes. But we¡¯ll have to go find them somewhere.¡± Pearl turns and stares at where the mass once was. ¡°Looking at that thing made me nauseous, but now that it¡¯s gone, I kind of feel¡­ wrong. Once the system figured out it couldn¡¯t make new shellraisers, it instantly pivoted to using them as materials. I just¡­ it makes me feel like we¡¯re¡­ absolutely nothing to it.¡±

    ¡°You were dangerous enough for it to hate you.¡±

    Pearl shakes her head and laughs. ¡°That¡¯s one way to look at it, I guess. Time to go back up?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Clutter swivels to look at us. ¡°We haven¡¯t even found the heretic yet! How can we leave now?¡±

    ¡°Because the heretic isn¡¯t here. Look around you; this place only has the prototype prison and the fake shellraiser. Unless there¡¯s something in those lighthouse-like towers, we¡¯ll have to find another underground space like this if we want to find the heretic.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ but¡­¡± Clutter frowns and glances at one of the towers. ¡°The quest said we were eventually supposed to come here. If it wasn¡¯t to look for the heretic, then what else would it be? Does anyone but you two even care about shellraisers enough for this to be significant?¡±

    Pearl glares daggers at Clutter. His eyebrows shoot to his forehead as he stammers out an apology for his piss-poor phrasing. I sigh and shake my head before Pearl can verbally rip him a new one.

    ¡°I get what you mean, but don¡¯t say it like that. Makes it sound like nobody gives a shit about us.¡±

    He snaps his mouth shut and nods vigorously. Pearl grumbles in annoyance, but seems like she¡¯s going to let it drop. Clutter does have a point, though; the quest was going to eventually give us access to this place. So what was the point of it? Revealing that the plastic is made of fake shellraisers isn¡¯t a hard-hitting revelation to anyone but us, and the quest wasn¡¯t made for us at all. Plus, we didn¡¯t even have possession of the fake shellraisers in the first place.

    I shake my head and nod at one of the lighthouse-like towers. ¡°Let¡¯s go take a look from the top. If there¡¯s anything else here, that¡¯s where we¡¯ll see it.¡±

    Clutter nods and runs off before anyone utters another word. I roll my shoulder as I follow him towards one of the lighthouse towers further from where we came in, flipping a single six through my fingers as I go. The thing feels so much different from the other coins; almost like it¡¯s already an extension of my will even before I push a spell into it. It also reminds me a little too much of the dead shellraiser we found with the beacon.

    Pearl tugs on my earlobe as I shove aside some plastic cables to clear my path. I raise an eyebrow to show I¡¯m listening. She clears her throat and points at my coin.

    ¡°You should make sure they actually¡­ work.¡± She says slowly.

    Now why¡¯s she worried about that? ¡°Is there something I should know?¡±

    She frowns and shakes her head. ¡°It¡¯s just a feeling. Hopefully I¡¯m wrong.¡±

    ¡°But if you aren¡¯t, we need to find out sooner than later.¡± I palm the coin and focus on pushing a shield into it. My thoughts slip into the coin with unbelievable ease. The spell smacks against it like a fly ramming into a glass door. ¡°...Damn, you¡¯re right. What¡¯s wrong with this thing?¡±

    I flip the coin over and try again. The spell struggles to push its way in, but the material of the coin absolutely refuses to let the magic in. But my thoughts¨Cmy intents and commands¨Cslip right in once again. I frown and flip the thing to double it¡¯s Worth, just to see if it¡¯s magic resistant for some reason, but it doubles just fine.

    ¡°Hrm. Clutter, slow down a sec.¡± I say to Clutter¡¯s back. ¡°Something''s weird here.¡±

    He tilts his head to the side and turns to face us. His eyes trail down to the coin in my hand, then back up to me and Pearl. ¡°The coin isn¡¯t working with your spells?¡±

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    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re holding a six Worth coin.¡± He states simply.

    ¡­Am I missing something here? ¡°Yes. I am.¡±

    Clutter fidgets awkwardly. ¡°Um¡­ you never told me this, but Illumisia did, so don¡¯t get mad at me¨Cshe said your spells only work on coins up to five Worth. Unless you evolved them and forgot to tell us, I mean, in which case ignore everything I just said.¡±

    I blink dumbly and pull open my Class Card. All my spells are still greyed out, but his words ring true¨Cshield and projectile must only work with a five-Worth coin or less. It¡¯s all I¡¯ve been able to make until now, so I¡¯ve never even run into this problem before. Which means all these new coins only work with purification and relocation. Except¡­ I also have two spell evolutions I put off for pretty much no reason at all. Once I un-grey my spells, that¡¯s the first thing to do.

    One last attempt sends purification into the coin. It slips in without a problem. I shake my head and chuckle to myself as I stick it in my pocket and motion for Clutter to keep walking. He shoots me a smile and bounds off, leaving me to catch up to him as he closes in on the lighthouse tower. Up close, it isn¡¯t that impressive. A tower that¡¯s a little shorter than ours, with a much larger area at the top with what looks like a lightbulb set inside of it. There isn¡¯t a visible entrance, but a lot of the plastic cables snake up and around the tower before disappearing into various parts of it.

    ¡°Looks even more like a lighthouse up close.¡± I note as we come to a stop. ¡°Wonder what it was lighting the way for.¡±

    ¡°It could be a watchtower, too. To make sure things don¡¯t get in or out without people seeing them.¡± Pearl suggests with a grimace. ¡°They did have something pretty valuable in here, after all.¡±

    Clutter puts his hand on the wall and opens a hexagonal door. ¡°Maybe they just liked the shape; I¡¯m not sure the system could be really worried about anything breaking in or out from a place like this, after all. Not now, at least.¡±

    Not now, sure, but maybe before this place disappeared off the face of the planet. And if that¡¯s the case, it becomes a question of what the system was defending against¨Cand when it built those defences. Because after the shellraisers were defeated and Illumisia was captured, the system had no real enemies. So it must¡¯ve been before then.

    I duck into the lighthouse before the door closes behind Clutter and find myself in the middle of a landing room much like our tower¡¯s. The stairs are much nicer, though; closed in with a handrail, actually carved into the side instead of just jutting out of it, and without any space between them where we could slip and fall through. Plastic cables breach the walls at random all the way up to the top, all of them continuing into that area where I can¡¯t see or feel them.

    Clutter starts for the stairs without saying a word. I follow closely behind as I study this place a little more. Nothing jumps out at me, which is a little surprising, but the closer I look the more I notice a shape repeated again and again; carved into the stairs, the actual shape of the lighthouse itself, the handrail, even the holes the wires come in from. All hexagons.

    ¡°Hey.¡± I say to get the other two¡¯s attention. ¡°Did we ever figure out what¡¯s with all the hexagons?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. Clutter shrugs. Well, that¡¯s that, then.

    We climb the rest of the way in relative silence, and once we emerge from the stairwell, exactly what you¡¯d expect is waiting for us at the top. A giant crystalline prism connected to a light source, which is in turn connected to dozens of plastic cables that litter the floor like sleeping snakes. A glassed-in room with nothing else to show is all that remains, and from where I¡¯m standing, it sure looks like there¡¯s nothing else to this underground laboratory-slash-whatever it actually is.

    I nod at the window. ¡°Either of you see anything I missed?¡±

    From the sag in Clutter''s shoulders, that¡¯s a ¡®no¡¯. I stare at the wall for a solid thirty seconds, trying to make sense of this weird-ass place we found ourselves in, but the only answer I can come to is that this was made specifically for the quest. Obviously all this shit wasn¡¯t made in a blank room, but it was definitely put here to emphasize them. And to get some kind of a reward from the quest.

    ¡°Hey, Clutter, can you access the tower controls from here?¡±

    His expression shifts from dejected to interested in a split second. ¡°Yes. Why? Wait, do you think I could connect this place to our tower?! That¡¯s a great idea! I¡¯ll try it right now!¡±

    I step out of the way of Clutter nearly sprinting towards the prism with all the plastic wires connected to it. Since that was what I was about to ask him to do, I keep my mouth shut as he plants one hand on the prism and opens up his Class Card with the other. Truth is, I highly doubt much of anything will happen. But this place has to have rewards for regular people in this quest, right?

    A burst of grey light flares from the prism. I grimace and raise a hand to block the light, but before my hand even reaches my face, it¡¯s gone. And by it, I mean the underground grey facility. In its place a sea of walls sprawls out endlessly. I blink in surprise and look up. Sure enough, the not-right-sky vomits rain like a broken sprinkler struggling to cover an entire parched yard. My jaw hangs open in disbelief as I turn to face the center of the yard where the mass of shellraisers once stood. Our tower is nestled perfectly where it once was, plastic cables already twisting around it as dull magic worms its way into the thing.

    Clutter grins with an eager laugh. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that worked!¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Neither can I.¡± I state with disbelief. ¡°Maybe now we¡¯ve got enough power to make some grey magic.¡±

    ¡°Yeah! Let¡¯s go see!¡±

    He rushes off without waiting. I share a look with Pearl, who returns a near mirror of what I¡¯m feeling. Whatever this means for our tower¡­ we weren¡¯t supposed to get it for a long while. This could change a lot of things.

 Chapter 215: The Waiting Quest

    Plastic cables snake through our tower from bottom to top, pulsing with inner magic that thrums and reverberates like the distant sound of drums. I scratch my neck and scowl down at one of them that blocks off most of a step, carefully maneuvering around it without falling off, then hurry the rest of the way to the top where Clutter¡¯s waiting for me.

    I poke my head up into the viewing area as Clutter giddily zips from cable to cable. He turns to me with a smile when I pull myself up and over a pair of cables that have put themselves in awkward positions, then spreads his hands wide and does a little twirl.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it awesome?¡± He half-asks, half-states. ¡°All this magic, and it¡¯s all surging into our tower! There¡¯s no way we can¡¯t run everything at the same time now!¡±

    Pearl ignores him and frowns down at a hole where a cable intrudes through the tower wall. It¡¯s completely flush with the rest of the wall¨Cunlike the ones in the lighthouse that had some clearance around them. I open my mouth to ask what¡¯s caught her attention, but before I can speak, it hits me.

    ¡°We were outside. And the radiation didn''t even hurt us.¡±

    She nods. ¡°That''s exactly what I was thinking. Then there¡¯s the fact that the mass of plastic should¡¯ve been powering everything else around it, not drawing power from it. We should be seeing way less magic to work with, not more of it.¡±

    Clutter¡¯s eyebrows shoot to his forehead. ¡°What? No!¡±

    ¡°Technically, yes. You¡¯re right. But I can¡¯t figure out why.¡± Pearl presses a finger to her lip in thought as she furrows her brow. ¡°Maybe¡­ these lighthouses are somehow converting the radiation into magic for us. That gives us way more magic to work with, and also a place outside of the walls that¡¯s safe enough to walk on.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a pretty good reward to me.¡±

    I step past Clutter and glance down at the anchor. It thrums right along with the cables, and my awareness informs me that there¡¯s a lot of magic flowing into it. I pull out my Class Card to check, and sure enough, the tower¡¯s available supply just reads ¡®overflowing¡¯. And now that we¡¯ve got a moment to relax, I might as well check what that random notification down there was.

    With a few swipes, I¡¯m reminded that most of my Class Card is greyed out. I roll my eyes at myself for forgetting and go to send it away. Right before it disappears from my fingers, something catches my eye. My stats. The ones that definitely shouldn''t have changed since I upped them to the max I could with the stat coins I had.

    7B/8M/10S/7F

    I have one more Mind now. But the notification said something about¡­ the next fifteen hours. A little over an hour and a half has passed since the construct went haywire. Does that mean I¡¯m going to get another fourteen Mind in less than a day from now? That¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s¡­ more than double what I started out with.

    ¡°Shelby.¡± Pearl whispers and pats my cheek. ¡°You¡¯re staring off into space again.¡±

    ¡°Right. Sorry.¡± I smile awkwardly and send my Class Card away. ¡°There¡¯s enough magic here to power everything and still be abundant. Looks like it¡¯s time to see what the workshop can do.¡±

    Clutter squeals in delight and barrels down the stairs. My smile turns genuine as I follow him down the stairs¨Cdodging the cables as I go¨Cuntil we reach the bottom. The door to the room with doors opens before I get down, and by the time I round the corner, he¡¯s already opened a door through the ground and into the workshop below. I squeeze through before it closes behind him just in time to watch him put one of the anchor tubes under the faucet.

    To his credit, he does look over his shoulder to make sure I¡¯m there before he does anything else. I give him a thumbs-up as a go-ahead and he nearly slams the tap with his palm. Magic swirls through the air like a cool breeze. Grey gently drips out of the faucet in a steady trickle that fills the anchor tube to the top in a matter of seconds. Clutter¡¯s hands shake with excitement as he pushes the tap shut, carefully brings the anchor filled with liquid magic out of the sink, and stares straight at me.

    ¡°What do I do now?¡±

    I tilt my head to the side. ¡°We mix up something to put in the anchor. Obviously.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± Clutter trails off as he looks at the ceiling. ¡°We have more than enough magic up there. Why do we need to do this?¡±

    Well he went from excited to disappointed in a heartbeat. I pull out my Class Card to see if he¡¯s right, but when I go to adjust the tower¡¯s specs, they won¡¯t go any further than before.

    ¡°Look; there¡¯s your reason right here.¡± I turn my card so he can see and tap the specs. ¡°We¡¯ve got all the power we can use, but we don''t have the infrastructure to use it. Those anchor tubes probably boost our infrastructure.¡±

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    ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited; we still can¡¯t deactivate the magic from the construct heads.¡± Pearl reminds us before we get too distracted. ¡°But there has to be something we can do with just the grey magic. Want to try putting it in the anchor slot?¡±

    Clutter nods. Just as quickly as he scurried down, he jumps atop the table and opens a door to the tower. He clambers through, tube in one hand, and looks down at me through the hole. I jump up after him, we make our way back to the top of the tower, and he replaces the empty anchor tube with our new one.

    After a few minutes of waiting, it¡¯s obvious nothing¡¯s going to happen. He¡¯s pretty visibly dejected, but there¡¯s not really anything we can do about it. I make the executive decision to call it a night¨Ca damn well deserved night might I add¨Cafter the doozy of these last couple dozen hours. It takes a few minutes to convince him to actually take it easy when he isn¡¯t completely exhausted, but once I get him calmed down, we all settle in for some rest.

    In the morning more blind searching awaits us. Just with so many more questions fueling our quest.

    <hr>

    Two days¡¯ worth of time flies in a blur of exertion and frustration.

    I sigh and lean back against the inside of the walls surrounding our tower and stare up at the sky that¡¯s just plain wrong. The last two days have been nothing short of useless¨Cespecially compared to everything that seemed to happen in a cascade after we got here. Expanding even further outwards gave us two more district names, a handful of fights with twisted paindne that Clutter used for training, and a reinforced sense that we¡¯re strangely alone here.

    Pearl pats my cheek from her spot on my shoulder. ¡°Just a little longer and we¡¯ll get Illumisia here with us. She¡¯ll help us find something useful.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I blink slowly as the discomfort from a pill-fueled workout echoes in my legs. ¡°At least we¡¯re not completely screwed; not until the quest announces that enough people have gathered in one spot, at least.¡±

    ¡°Look at it this way; it just means the horizonguard''s struggling to find people too.¡±

    I mean, I guess. But I¡¯m almost at the point of wanting something to happen just for the sake of something happening. We¡¯re potentially stuck in a country-sized¨Cor maybe even bigger¨Ccity with absolutely nothing to give us a sense of progress. Unless we got insanely lucky with our first day, I have a feeling all the other groups are feeling the same unease we are.

    ¡°One big deluge of progress, then a complete drought.¡± I push off the wall and start towards the tower. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the quest¡¯s thinking, but if there¡¯s no reason for this, then I¡¯ll eat my shoes. It¡¯s gotta be doing this on purpose.¡±

    Pearl silently nods in agreement. The towers, the sub-quests, all the progress that came to a grinding halt for no apparent reason; it just feels manufactured. Sure, we could''ve rushed through what was supposed to take us a few days. But for us to find no more heretic body parts, or secret alcoves, or even another tower anywhere on the horizon; it all feels like a standstill without a reason.

    <hr>

    ¡°We need to just pick a direction and keep going until we find someone.¡±

    Clutter and Pearl shoot me looks like I just stated the painfully obvious.

    ¡°Of course we have to. I mean, what else can we do?¡± Clutter laughs humorlessly as he fiddles with some of the workshop equipment. ¡°Apparently we don¡¯t have anything we need to actually make progress with the quest, and the only way to get those things is to make progress with the quest. Whoever designed this deserves to step in really sticky glue with their favorite socks on.¡±

    Pearl giggles and shakes her head. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far, but I wouldn''t mind if they stopped thinking forever. If I was the one in charge here, I¡¯d put all the people in districts no further than one away from each other. That way they could actually¡­ you know¡­ make progress on the quest I made.¡±

    Clutter blinks. ¡°Wait, do you want to kill the quest?¡±

    I ignore that because Pearl¡¯s answer is obvious. ¡°We still don¡¯t know how far apart we all are, but as long as we¡¯re stuck in the walls, we won¡¯t be able to check for the most obvious sign of life; the towers. Even just pulling back on the radiation would make this ten times easier to search.¡±

    ¡°Yup.¡± Pearl sighs. ¡°Either this quest is really designed poorly, or it¡¯s designed to last for way, way longer than we thought it was.¡±

    ¡°Or both.¡± Clutter grumbles.

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Sitting around here checking instruments for the tenth time isn¡¯t going to do anything about it. Clutter, you ready to go back to the coins?¡±

    He pushes the device away, smooths out his shirt, and nods. I lower my hand to the table so Pearl can run up my arm, then roll my shoulder as I latch onto the pair of single hexes I left at our furthest reached point. Relocation flares, and the scenery barely shifts to yet more hallway tunnels. Clutter stifles a sigh of disappointment and jogs ahead.

    Can¡¯t blame him, honestly. Even with fifteen more Mind than I came to this place with, it feels like we barely have anything tangible to show for a few days¡¯ work. Him even less than me. I fall in stride with him, and through the power of bullshit conversation, we speed up to a sprint that we manage to keep up for a good few hours. Some twisted paindne show up again. Clutter deals with them.

    We keep running. By hour seven I just want anything to happen. Ambush us, traumatize me with more of that tapping that I still haven¡¯t gotten used to. Just¡­ for the love of god, do something!

    My foot taps down on a tile just like any other tile. No magic echoes out from underneath it. But the twin chimes of my and Clutter¡¯s Class Cards simultaneously getting a notification scrapes the boredom from my face to let hope bloom. I shoot Clutter a mixed look that he returns, and we both summon our Class Cards.

    The necessary number of people have gathered in the Yunrov district.

    Initializing revitalization process.

 Chapter 216: Other People

    Yunrov. That¡¯s our district. How the actual¡­ No. No time to worry about it. All we can do is act.

    I nod at Clutter. He nods back, already in the middle of wrapping his hands as inky shadows seep over parts of him. I latch onto the relocation coins I left in the tower, and without a moment¡¯s hesitation, activate the spells.

    Sound hits me the moment we relocate. Scraping on stone, the squelch of heavy footsteps sinking through plastic, and momentary taps that disappear less than a second later. I grimace and push spells into my coins to get ready for whoever¡¯s down around our tower. My bet¡¯s on stonestep solutions¡¯ horizonguard, but he can¡¯t have another fourteen people with him. He would¡¯ve triggered the quest in a different district if that was the case.

    So¡­ wait. That means we¡¯ve got people coming from two or more directions converging on us. I get why the horizonguard would be after us, but why other people? Did the quest send out a message telling people to come to our district and didn¡¯t bother giving it to us?

    ¡°Clutter.¡± I turn to the shadowy stain that covers my friend. ¡°Whoever¡¯s out there, they¡¯re fighting with the twisted paindne. I¡¯ll go be the distraction, and you make sure none of them decide to try and kill me.¡±

    He nods seriously. ¡°What do you want me to do if they want to hurt you?¡±

    ¡°If you think they¡¯re too weak to actually kill either of us, try to leave them alive. But I¡¯ll leave the final decision up to you.¡±

    I adjust my coin holster, then reach up and press my hand against Clamber¡¯s armlet. Her dad might be down there. That¡¯s one potential ally we could recruit if we¡¯re smart about this. Or, in the worst case scenario, he could be psychically controlled¨Cor threatened with Clamber¡¯s well-being. Shit, we might have to be careful about this.

    Clutter fidgets awkwardly. I turn to him and raise an eyebrow. ¡°Don¡¯t stay quiet if you¡¯ve got something to say. I¡¯m not all-knowing by any stretch of the imagination.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ what happens if we don¡¯t know what or who these people are?¡±

    ¡°Then we adjust on the fly.¡± I toss him a relocation coin and drop my own on the floor. ¡°If we believe the quest, there¡¯s no way for anyone to get in here without our permission. Retreat if it looks like the horizonguard is going to fight us seriously.¡±

    He swallows hard at the thought and finishes wrapping his hands. I motion down at the stairs, and he completely disappears into the shadows. The noises barely change as I descend, the sounds of battle barely covered up by the sounds of exploration. Pearl ducks back into her shell with a confident smile as I get to the wall, press my hand against it, and focus entirely on my awareness.

    ¡°Alright. Hope they¡¯re friendly.¡±

    I press my hand against the wall, which slides open with an almost silent swish. A paindne with grey-blue colouring flinches back with a stifled yelp, her eyes widening as she takes me in. She backpedals a few steps before falling flat on her ass, then turns and scrambles towards a group of three people closer to the walls.

    ¡°They¡¯re here! It isn¡¯t abandoned!¡± She cries while gesturing wildly at me. ¡°Battle stations!¡±

    ¡°Battle stations?¡± I mutter to myself as Pearl giggles in my ear. ¡°Where does she think she is? A warship?¡±

    The door slides shut behind me right after I feel Clutter sneak out. He spares the group one glance, then turns and slinks away to see what the people on the other side are doing. Seems like he came to a similar conclusion that I did.

    One of them holds up a thick, wooden staff that pulses with magic that feels like a pleasant spring shower. They¡¯re dressed like a¡­ well¡­ the best way I can describe them is a stereotypical wizard. Long grey robes, a wide brimmed pointy hat, and a shoulder bag that¡¯s stuffed to the brim with scrolls, orbs, and other random shit. They even have a grey beard that cascades down to the center of their chest.

    I blink and narrow my eyes at the group. They¡¯re all paindne, yeah, but they¡¯re¡­ familiar. The wizard, one in leather and wielding a giant double-headed axe, another in a tight-fitting black cloak that hides almost everything about them, and the one that just scampered away from me. Who has a goddamn lute on her back and a twinkle in her eye that speaks of grandiose showmanship.

    It finally hits me; I¡¯m facing down a stereotypical fantasy adventuring party. A stereotypical Earth adventuring party. But all four of these people are paindne. Did someone play a prank on them?

    ¡°Stand down! We mean you no harm!¡± The wizard booms in a voice that sounds like someone trying to mimic other well-known grey wizards. ¡°We are here for naught but the thrill of adventure itself!¡±

    The rogue elbows the wizard in the side. He¨Cat least the wizard sounds like a he¨Cclears his throat.

    ¡°I was mistaken; we are here for many things, only one of which is the thrill of adventure! We are also here for treasure, knowledge, and somewhere safe to sleep where we won¡¯t get eaten alive by our undead kin!¡±

    The other three paindne nod in agreement. The barbarian steps forward and brandishes her axe, but it slides through her hands just a little too much and she has to readjust. That doesn¡¯t scream ¡®confident with her weapon¡¯ to me. The rogue uses the¡­ I¡¯m hesitant to call it a distraction¡­ that the barbarian did and steps to the side, a shimmer of air barely hiding them from view. My awareness can sense them as clear as day, but even my eyes can easily pick out their shimmering form as they circle around way too far in an attempt to get behind me.

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    I sigh in amusement, but hold back the grin that wants to come out. The sounds of battle on the other side prove that there are dangers here¨Cand these people could actually be very competent distractions. I¡¯m damn distracted, that¡¯s for sure.

    ¡°Hey, hey, no need to get violent here.¡± I hold up my hands to show I have nothing in them. ¡°I¡¯m the one that got saddled with this little piece of limbo. Do you not have a tower to go back to?¡±

    The bard shakes her head. ¡°There wasn¡¯t one where we appeared.¡±

    ¡­Huh, I kind of assumed everyone would¡¯ve spawned at least a little close to a tower. ¡°You¡¯re shitting me. The quest screwed you over from the beginning?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s an understatement.¡± The barbarian grumbles, then shifts her grip on the axe. ¡°So we need a tower. Hand yours over.¡±

    ¡°Rina!¡± The bard quietly hisses through her teeth. ¡°Don¡¯t threaten the human¡±

    The barbarian¡¯s eyes widen and she mutters a curse. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t think this would happen.¡±

    I narrow my eyes at the three of them. This¡­ has to be some kind of distraction tactic. There¡¯s just no way they¡¯re actually this oblivious to the person standing thirty feet away from them. They¡¯re trying to get me to underestimate them; to let my guard down so they can attack with spells and skills they¡¯re purposely hiding behind this amateurish display. Should I just play along? Is that what they want? Shit, are they just stalling for the horizonguard to get here?

    That sounds a little too plausible for my liking. I take a step forward, friendly smile at the ready, and motion at the wizard. He flinches a little, and the magic in his staff flickers like a candle in the wind. It almost doesn¡¯t feel like he¡¯s using his class at all.

    ¡°So what does that do? Get me a nice, cold drink of water?¡±

    He puffs out his chest with pride. ¡°This is Goodrain, the staff of clean water! It creates water inside of itself, and with an infusion of mana, I can use it for a myriad of different amazing feats!¡±

    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°Like this!¡±

    The wizard thrusts the staff into the air. Both the bard and the barbarian¡¯s eyes widen, and they sprint right at me as the magic in the staff starts to churn. It barely feels like anything, even in use, but the wizard drags it through the air in an intricate dance that leaves behind a trail of moisture that looks like the world¡¯s tiniest jet just did a stunt flight around his head. I pretend to be enraptured by the display while remaining focused almost entirely on the three that are rapidly closing in on me.

    Not the best feint and charge I¡¯ve ever seen. I latch onto the shield coin in my holster and sharpen my awareness to a deadly point of readiness aimed at the impending attack. The barbarian comes up on my left, and¡­ turns to watch the wizard with sparkling eyes. So does the bard. Even the rogue stops to watch. I¡­ just¡­ what.

    I take a deep breath to center myself. Don¡¯t get swept away. Don¡¯t let my guard down. No matter how idiotic this is.

    The wizard spreads his arms wide. The trail of moisture glistens with magic, and the staff resonates with a soft pitter-patter like falling rain. Water gorges the moisture, filling it to the thickness of an oil barrel and gaining dozens of feet of length. Except it¡¯s still moving at a snail¡¯s pace. And from the strain on the wizard¡¯s face, he¡¯s having trouble keeping even this much up.

    ¡°I think he¡¯s going to do it this time.¡± The bard whispers excitedly. ¡°Is this his best so far?¡±

    The barbarian nods. ¡°Last time he already lost control of it by this point. Maybe he can actually¨C¡±

    With a gasp, the wizard loses control of the spell. The staff droops like a piece of wet cardboard, and the magic connecting it to the water evaporates like a single water drop on a searing hot pan. He gulps comically loud for the moment the water hangs in the air, then it crashes down on him with enough force to bring him into a faceplant. All three of his buddies wince in unison, then as the barbarian and the bard go to help him, the rogue walks up and nudges me with their elbow.

    ¡°Dang close.¡± They say quickly. ¡°Too bad.¡±

    I just stare ahead with a growing sense of¡­ I honestly don¡¯t know what the hell this is. Not what I imagined when the notification popped up, that¡¯s for damn sure.

    The rogue nudges me again. I turn to look at them, and they jab a thumb at their chest. ¡°Euro.¡±

    ¡°Shelby. Pleasure to meet you.¡± I say sarcastically.

    They just nod. ¡°Likewise.¡±

    ¡­Man, I just do not know what to make of this. I watch the barbarian and the bard help the wizard to his feet, who seems to be a little shaken by his own failure to keep his spell alive. Once they get him steady, the three of them walk casually towards me once more. All their previous caution and hostility completely forgotten.

    They all offer me smiles. I nearly grimace at the strangeness. Something just feels¡­ so wrong about all this.

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Shelby. I¡¯m Jumble, and these are three of my party members; Euro, Rina, and Ward.¡± Jumble, the bard, motions at the rogue, barbarian, and wizard in turn. ¡°We¡¯re stuck here in this quest, just like you, so we should be friends!¡±

    I smile sweetly and nod dismissively. They¡¯re definitely just trying to get into our tower. Time to get Clutter and regroup.

    ¡°Sure, yeah, friends.¡± I say quickly and turn around. ¡°Got any other party members I should know about?¡±

    Jumble nods. ¡°One more, yes.¡±

    Heat prickles at the sides of my face. Magic joins it a second later, and I watch in stunned disbelief as a ray of sunlight descends on the other side of our tower. It almost feels like Ashmaw¡¯s pillars of destruction, but this is heavily concentrated light.

    Cries of ¡®my eyes¡¯ echo out from around where it fell. And from right next to me, where all four of the paindne party are clutching their faces in discomfort. From inside the light emerges a figure clad in armor and cloth, all emblazoned and styled to look like a sun drawn with exclusively squiggly lines. He looks up from a thick book bound in sun-baked leather and scorched metal and snaps it shut with a look of disdain plain on his face.

    If this is their fifth, at least that explains a little about how they survived.

 Chapter 217: Ten Out Of Fifteen

    Clutter slinks through the shadows to come to my side before the party¡¯s fifth slowly makes his way over to us. He gently taps my shoulder with barely a sense of urgency, then shifts to press himself against the side of the tower. I¡¯ll take that as an ¡®all clear¡¯.

    The fifth walks up to the other four, looks them over one by one, then jabs a finger at Ward. ¡°Why is he soaking wet? We¡¯re supposed to be trying to make a good first impression on whoever claimed this tower. That¡¯s impossible with a soggy wizard.¡±

    ¡°I was showing off.¡± Ward says. ¡°My magic is dazzling, after all.¡±

    ¡°Yes, which is why you''re soggy and nearly immobile.¡± The fifth shakes his head and sighs. ¡°I thought I told you not to do that whenever I¡¯m not around.¡±

    Ward slowly nods. ¡°My apologies.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you should be sorry. I missed out on a show! And you won¡¯t be able to do it again for, say, six to eight hours!¡±

    I blink in disbelief and turn to stare at the fifth. There¡¯s still that look of disdain on his face, but his words don¡¯t carry any ill intent. Is he¡­ just as off as the rest of them? Please, no. Give me one of them that¡¯s not infected with whatever the hell they¡¯ve all apparently got.

    ¡°You know there are going to be humans here! We have to make sure we save all of our best moves for them¨Ceven if it means scraping through by our fingernails for everything else.¡± The fifth puffs his chest out with pride. ¡°I will protect us until then, because my spells and skills are not entertaining to watch. You four just focus on being ready to¡­ why are you gesturing to my left?¡±

    The fifth turns at the insistence of his party. I raise a hand as he stares blankly at me. ¡°Yo.¡±

    ¡°Oh my. Um¡­ yes.¡± The fifth clears his throat and squares his shoulders. ¡°Rather, well met, friend! You¨Coh, that explains why Ward is soaked. I mean, hello, human! I am Dani, paladin of the squiggly sun, and the second of my order only to one of your own glorious kind!¡±

    He bows deep without taking his eyes off mine. ¡°Please excuse my previous callousness. I was not aware Ward used his magic to put on a show for¡­ you. Um, you are a human, right?¡±

    ¡°Mostly.¡±

    ¡°Close enough for us!¡± Dani snaps to a straight back and motions at his party. ¡°We have modeled our skill sets after the esteemed dungeoneering and quest-completing parties of your own people. If you would be willing, could we have some of your time to discuss human things?¡±

    The eager look in Dani¡¯s eyes clashes with the sour expression on his face. He must just be made to look annoyed all the time. And¡­ if I¡¯m reading the room right¡­ they¡¯re damn obsessed with humans. Earthaboos or whatever the word would be. It¡¯d explain why they¡¯re dressed like characters from any generic RPG.

    Still, I don¡¯t feel like I should trust them. Something about the group just rubs me the wrong way for some reason. I glance over at where Clutter¡¯s still pressed against the wall, hoping that he¡¯d show some kind of approval or disapproval of the quintet, but he doesn¡¯t react one way or the other. And since Pearl¡¯s just watching with obvious amusement, it falls to me to make a decision.

    No matter what I choose, I¡¯m not letting these cosplaying paindne into our tower. But maybe now¡¯s a good time to use the lighthouses for¡­ anything at all. I jab a thumb at one of them, and everyone turns to look.

    ¡°We can talk up there. And if you don¡¯t have a place to stay, you can take one of the four and put up some defenses.¡± I decide, though the moment the words leave my mouth, I feel like I¡¯ll regret them sooner or later. ¡°You five go on ahead. I¡¯ll go get my partner in crime and meet you there in a minute.¡±

    The party of paindne each give their own kind of confirmation, then Jumble shepherds them towards the lighthouse I pointed at. I watch them walk all the way to the wall, make a doorway into it, and step through. The fact that they didn¡¯t need our permission to get inside makes me reconsider how safe these walls around us are. I raise a hand and motion for Clutter to stand next to me.

    The shadows bleed away as he takes his place. I shoot him a glance with one raised eyebrow. ¡°So what did you think of them?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re weird.¡± He states without hesitation. ¡°I can¡¯t tell if they¡¯re strong, weak, smart, stupid, or anything else. And they¡¯re all dressed like some of the humans I¡¯ve seen.¡±

    I nod in agreement. ¡°Wizard, bard, rogue, paladin, and barbarian. A pretty typical adventuring party you¡¯d see in a video or board game back on Earth.¡±

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    Clutter frowns. ¡°Then why are they dressed up like that?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I want to know, but I¡¯m kind of scared to find out.¡± I sigh and shake my head. ¡°Enough about them for a minute. Who else is on the other side of that wall?¡±

    ¡°An ogean, two y¡¯tocwa, a gris, and a paindne. The gris and one of the y¡¯tocwa seem to know each other, and the other three look like they have a tenuous alliance. But they¡¯re not familiar with each other at all; too much tension and not enough casualness for that.¡± He glances over his shoulder and clicks his tongue. ¡°They¡¯ve taken the two lighthouses on that side, just like those five are probably going to take over the one you sent them to.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ more than I thought he¡¯d have for me. ¡°Nice work, Clutter.¡±

    He smiles bashfully. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. All I did was sneak around and listen to them. Oh, and one more thing; that sun-guy scared the heck out of them with that show of power. As long as he¡¯s around, we shouldn''t have to worry about any of them attacking us. Or trying anything, really.¡±

    ¡°More good info.¡± I smile at Clutter, whose smile widens in response. ¡°Now for the million-dollar question; were any of them even slightly suspicious?¡±

    ¡°You mean aside from the party of five?¡±

    I nod.

    He licks his lips in thought. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure none of them are with stonestep solutions. If they are, they aren¡¯t making it obvious at all. Even if they aren¡¯t, though, we¡¯ve only got ten of the fifteen people who triggered the quest here.¡±

    ¡°Which means there¡¯s a good chance the horizonguard or his lackeys are still somewhere in the district.¡± I finish for him as I cross my arms. ¡°We¡¯ll have to be even more careful from now on. No leaving the tower, the workshop, or the room with doors unless we¡¯re all together.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha.¡±

    I tap Pearl¡¯s shell. ¡°Just in case you have to be told, that means you, too.¡±

    Pearl rolls her eyes. I lean around Clutter to try to catch a glimpse of the other five or the twisted paindne they were fighting, but they¡¯ve all disappeared into the walls. Our unsecured walls. The thought of it slightly sours my mood, but I can¡¯t get all pissy now. There¡¯s unknown shit happening in the walls under our feet and five unknown people somewhere in all of it. Illumisia can¡¯t get here soon enough.

    ¡°If shit gets bad starting now, I¡¯m bringing in Illumisia slightly ahead of schedule.¡± I say to Clutter as we walk to the party¡¯s designated lighthouse. ¡°We can¡¯t risk fighting someone as powerful as the horizonguard without anything backing us up.¡±

    He silently nods. I look up at the glassed-in top, the party just now starting to file in. They¡¯re still talking among themselves, and it doesn¡¯t look like there¡¯s any hostility there. If they really don¡¯t have a home tower, though, then they¡¯re at a huge disadvantage. Hell, anyone that didn¡¯t spawn near a tower is at a huge disadvantage. I¡¯m not sure the quest would even start like that, so either they¡¯re lying to me, or the quest¡¯s spawn points can massively influence how it goes for you.

    I shake my head to clear my thoughts as I open a door with my hand. The inside of the lighthouse looks exactly the same as I remember, and the climb up takes a little less time thanks to all the practice I have with the cables in our tower. Clutter lags behind a few steps, looking over his shoulder every few seconds for a sign of¡­ I assume the other five people. A good idea, but right now, I need his input with these people.

    ¡°Our gracious human host arrives!¡± Dani raises a cup of water as we reach the top. ¡°And with a new friend to boot. What is your name, friend? Mine is Dani.¡±

    Clutter takes one last glance down the stairs, then walks to my side. ¡°Clutter. Very nice to meet you.¡±

    Dani nods. ¡°Likewise. These are my party members; Jumble¨C¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m already filled in, so we don''t need introductions.¡± Clutter cuts him off with a smile. ¡°So where are all of you from?¡±

    Jumble leans back and shrugs. ¡°Here and there and all around. We don¡¯t really go into the cities anymore.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that we don¡¯t want to; there¡¯s just not much of a reason to.¡± Rina clarifies. ¡°Unless you¡¯re part of some non-system organization, you can¡¯t find any quests in the cities anymore.¡±

    ¡°Too true.¡± Dani sighs. ¡°I recall when there were entire buildings dedicated by the system to quests and class advancement. Now that companies and businesses have taken over those roles, it almost feels like the independent adventurer has to rely solely on luck to get by. Alas.¡±

    The memory of Dizzy¡¯s nearly-empty building flashes over my mind. ¡°What cities are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°Palastia, Overport, Muckstav¡­¡± Euro ticks off names on their fingers. ¡°Unless you¡¯re deep enough that it isn¡¯t safe or profitable for a company to be there, the system¡¯s buildings are pretty much abandoned. But you also don¡¯t find humans in those faraway cities, so there¡¯s no point to go there, either.¡±

    ¡°Mmhm, yeah, mmhm.¡± The other four murmur in agreement. I almost point out that they¡¯d be able to find more humans in cities like palastia than anywhere else, but I hold my tongue. They definitely already know.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re here now, so we might as well get some things straight.¡± I hold up three fingers. ¡°First; why are you all dressed like that? Second; why are you here in this district? And third; how did you even get into this quest in the first place?¡±

    Dani purses his lips. ¡°It¡¯s a pretty long story for two of the three. Do you have a few hours?¡±

    I motion for Clutter to sit down, then do the same. ¡°The city¡¯s doing something. You¡¯ve got our attention until the quest gives us a new notification.¡±

 Chapter 218: On The Horizon

    Turns out the party is way luckier than Clutter and I. They stumbled across some plastic on another continent, found someone with a skill that works like my plastic map, and just¡­ got the quest that way. No phase bullshit, no worrying about a horizonguard on their ass, and no time crunch. Since they¡¯ve been ready for this for about as long as I¡¯ve had a class.

    As for the way they¡¯re dressed¡­ well, they wouldn¡¯t elaborate on that. They just kept repeating that it¡¯s a human tradition or something along those lines. I¡¯m still willing to bet that some asshole gaslit them into believing something that isn¡¯t true at all, but honestly, I don¡¯t give a shit. They¡¯re way safer than we are here. So they can afford to be weaker and have some fun.

    Finally, we get to the meat of the issue. Which is that none of them have a single reason to explain why they came here. No system notifications, no spells, not even a gut feeling¨Cjust that they somehow walked here over the last few days. According to Dani, the other group has the exact same reasoning. Combine that fact with how little they care about the fact that multiple groups of people randomly decided to come here¨Ceven though it wasn¡¯t a straight shot at all¨Cwell, it raises more than a few flags.

    When all¡¯s said and done, Clutter and I leave the lighthouse and make our way back to the tower. Once we¡¯re sealed off from the other ten people I grab his arm before he can climb the stairs, then shake my head.

    ¡°They could see us if we went up there.¡± I say seriously. ¡°This reeks of someone manipulating things behind the scenes, and we need to figure out who that is.¡±

    He tilts his head to the side. ¡°Aren¡¯t there only two options; the horizonguard or the quest itself?¡±

    I nod. ¡°Yeah. But one of them is so much worse for us that it isn¡¯t even funny. C¡¯mon; let¡¯s explore the walls while we know the other ten are cooped up in the lighthouses.¡±

    With slight reluctance, Clutter takes his foot off the stairs and follows me to the room with doors. Once we close the door behind us I take out a purification coin, crush it to dispel whatever might¡¯ve been put on us, then lean down and open a door to the workshop. Clutter jumps down without hesitation. I follow a second later with a mental command to dispel the cloud of salty magic.

    ¡°So what do you actually think of them? The party, I mean; I know you didn¡¯t meet or see the other five.¡± Clutter unnecessarily clarifies.

    I grimace as I open one last door to the hallway. ¡°Something about them just rubs me the wrong way. Everyone but the paladin feels unbelievably weak, yet he seems way too strong for what I can feel. There¡¯s no way they¡¯d survive as a group with that kind of dependency¨Cespecially not if they¡¯re actively looking for quests.¡±

    Clutter¡¯s mouth pulls into a thin line. I turn and raise an eyebrow at him, but by the time I actually get my eyes on him, the expression has been replaced with a passive smile. He steps through the door right after me into the root-and-vine-and-cable filled hallway without saying much of anything, and¡­ ah, shit. I just prodded his sense of inferiority.

    Which¡­ does actually point out something pretty important I missed. They treat each other like friends and equals. Either those are bonds they¡¯ve had for so long that strength doesn¡¯t matter, or the other four are completely not suited for combat at all. Not every quest starts and ends with violence, after all; just being able to defend themselves was probably enough most of the time.

    I hum to myself as we walk. ¡°Could you tell what classes they had?¡±

    He blinks, then¡­ shakes his head. ¡°Now that you say it¡­ no. I couldn¡¯t. Dani¨Cum, the paladin, I think you called him¨Call of his magic came from the book. That doesn¡¯t mean his class isn¡¯t just someone who can use magical items really well, but it didn¡¯t look like he used any spells or skills.¡±

    ¡°Hrm. That¡¯s weird.¡± I scratch my neck where Pearl normally sits and grimace. ¡°I guess I just assumed their classes were what they called themselves. But if they have completely different classes than what they¡¯re dressed up as, then they could be a lot stronger or weaker than we think. Guess we¡¯ll just have to keep an even closer eye on them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea.¡± Pearl says, breaking an almost hour-long silence. ¡°They all seemed slightly magical at all times, which usually means they¡¯re wearing or using magical gear. Except for Dani¡¯s book and that staff with the name I forgot, I couldn¡¯t make out any specific items.¡±

    ¡°So they¡¯re hiding them with something?¡±

    Pearl nods. ¡°That¡¯s what I think. But I¡¯m not sure they¡¯re hiding it for nefarious reasons just yet. Keep an eye on them, though, for good measure.¡±

    I catch Clutter staring at Pearl¡¯s shell. I give him a nod to confirm I¡¯m talking to her, not him, and a flash of that same expression casts a shadow on his face. He really needs to take a solid win without me interfering to prove that he¡¯s worthy. Not to me, but to himself. Because apparently no amount of him doing damn good recon work will convince him that he¡¯s good enough.

    ¡°Do you believe them?¡±

    Clutter¡¯s words linger in my ears for a second before I register them. ¡°About what?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°Everything, really. They talk like they¡¯ve been friends for literal years, but if that¡¯s the case, then they should all be about the same level of strength. Then they apparently just stumbled on what we had to work for? Do we really believe the quest would just have some entrances that are infinitely easier to get into than the others? And¨Cand¡­ um¡­ wait.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    A scowl etches itself onto Clutter¡¯s face as he glares down at the ground. He quietly mutters incoherent things to himself as if trying to get the words out from between his teeth. I hear each of the party¡¯s names multiple times, but as he keeps speaking¡­ he says things that don¡¯t make sense. Each of their birthdays. Their favorite colours. What they like to eat. Where their favorite spots to take a starbathing swim are. All things that I definitely don¡¯t remember them saying.

    I grimace. ¡°Psychic?¡±

    He bears his teeth. ¡°No. This isn¡¯t magic. I¡­ I don¡¯t know what it is, but I know way too much about them. And these memories are from before we met them. From before I met you. But something¡¯s making them all hazy. I¡­ I think it¡¯s the quest.¡±

    ¡°The quest?¡± I groan and shake my head. ¡°Shit, are they working with it?¡±

    Clutter vigorously shakes his head. ¡°No. I¡­ just¡­ the quest is keeping me from remembering why I know stuff about them, just like it kept me from remembering that I definitely should know them from somewhere. There¡¯s a precedent for this, too, in other quests when someone famous or important goes in one and asks to be treated as anonymous.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you can do that? I could¡¯ve done that to protect us from the horizonguard?¡±

    He shoots me a look that asks ¡®you¡¯re famous?¡¯. I glare right back, but he just grins like an idiot. But this is a huge problem. The party could be famous for anything at all¨Cand from anywhere at all. I¡¯ve damn sure never heard of them, but¡­ hrm. Why¡¯d Clutter remember anything about them at¡­ ah, right, the purification. It must¡¯ve gotten rid of a little bit of the spell but not enough to get rid of the censorship.

    ¡°How about you?¡± Clutter asks. ¡°Do you remember anything about them?¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Absolutely nothing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good. It means I¡¯m not forgetting something we saw while we were together. Actually, you probably would¡¯ve felt the spell working on you if you actually remembered anything. That should¡¯ve told me all I needed to know.¡±

    Hrm. He makes a good point. I doubt he¡¯d know anything about the horizonguard that I didn¡¯t, especially not pointless stuff like a favorite colour. Doubly so considering he didn¡¯t know the horizonguard existed before he met me. So¡­ does it really matter who they are? It¡¯s unnerving to know the quest is protecting them, sure, but if they aren¡¯t a threat to us then who gives a shit? Clutter¡¯s definitely bothered by it, but we¡¯ve got so much worse to worry about.

    ¡°Well, all we can do is have a plan in place if they¡¯re working with stonestep. They seem like good friends, or at least work well together, so we can take advantage of that.¡±

    Clutter nods in agreement. ¡°The first thing we¡¯d need to do is neutralize Dani. He¡¯s pretty much all of their firepower, and all of it comes from the book. As far as I could tell he didn¡¯t notice me when I was invisible, so I can probably steal the book pretty easily.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. Play some scenarios in your head to get the image down and be ready for that. I¡¯ll work on a way to disable the other four just in case they¡¯re hiding shit from us.¡± I reach up and feel at Clamber¡¯s armlet. ¡°Worst comes to worst, we just need to find their plastic things and get them into our tower. Then they¡¯ll be completely useless.¡±

    ¡°Ooh, good point. I almost forgot about that.¡± Clutter holds up his wrapped hand with the ring underneath. ¡°I should probably keep this hand wrapped forever. Do you want me to wrap your arm, too?¡±

    I think for a second, then roll up my sleeve and hold out my arm. ¡°As long as you can handle the mana drain.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that; it¡¯s pretty much nothing. Especially compared to going invisible.¡± He chuckles as he pulls out more of the fabric. ¡°So, um, have you noticed anything different about the tunnels yet?¡±

    As he ties a knot to get the wrap started, I take a better look around. We¡¯ve only been walking for a few minutes, but honestly, I can¡¯t see anything different. Sure there¡¯s a little more magic in the air, but that doesn¡¯t mean much of anything. I purse my lips and try to feel for anything different at all, but¨C

    Movement at the edge of my awareness. Legs, arms, a body, a head, and a tail. The makeup of a normal paindne. Clutter looks up at me with wide eyes when I tense my arm, and I hold a finger up to my lips to make sure he keeps quiet. That¡¯s enough for him to understand something¡¯s off, and he hurries to tie off the wrap. Once he does it melts against my skin like the most comfortable clothing I¡¯ve ever worn¨Cjust like the other stuff Dell made.

    I shove that unpleasant image aside and motion down the hall, past a snarl of roots that impede our vision. Another paindne shape joins the first a moment later, and the two of them turn to look at each other in silence as their mouths open and close. I can¡¯t make out any sounds, though, so they must have some kind of spell keeping them silent.

    This could be the horizonguard¡¯s people. With a snap of my fingers Clutter walks ahead, vanishing into inky darkness and quickly pushing through the roots. I give him a good ten second head start before following, making sure that I don¡¯t create any more noise than I have to. Pearl quietly gasps, her face a mixture of confusion and an attempt to understand what she¡¯s seeing. I feel Clutter push through, look around, and¡­ freeze. He tenses up like his muscles are made of springs.

    The hell is he seeing up there? On a split second decision I abandon stealth and shove my way through the vines. Clutter doesn¡¯t move at all, but when he hears me, his head swivels ever so slightly so he can see me too.

    I push through, ready for whatever stonestep solutions have prepared for us. Bustling foot traffic, signs for shops, and plant life greet me instead. Paindne walk the hallway as they chat to each other like nothing¡¯s wrong at all. Dozens and dozens of them as far as I can see down the hallway, and there must be even more of them in the walls behind the store signs.

    All of it greyscale.

    All of it plastic.

 Chapter 219: Artificial Flourishing

    What I¡¯d misunderstood as voices hits my ears as noise. Sounds that clash against each other that come from mouths, but that don¡¯t have any of the cadence or intent behind them to be a voice. It¡¯s like listening to heavy machinery operating in the background of a busy cafe, but it¡¯s drowning out all the sounds of people.

    But they react to the sounds like they mean something. One plastic paindne rolls their eyes and crosses their arms. The one they¡¯re talking to huffs and leans forward accusingly, but their sounds stay exactly the same. Not even a change in volume. I share a look of disbelief with Clutter for more than a few seconds until he eventually decides to walk forward.

    Careful, quiet steps carry him through the crowd. Not a single one of the paindne reacts to him. He turns back to me and shrugs, discomfort plain in his body language. Considering how much he didn¡¯t like the single construct we saw a few days ago, he must absolutely hate this.

    I scratch my forearm and take a deep breath. This is obviously the change the quest hinted at. But¡­ there¡¯s so many paindne here in just this little part of the city. If it was the same all across this place, then there should be¡­ millions of them here. Maybe even more. Why would a city need this many plastic constructs? Especially ones that look and act like normal people?

    The question rests at the forefront of my mind as I step out to follow Clutter. A pair of paindne that are close to me turn a little at the sound of my footsteps, and their noise shifts to be projected straight at me. One of them raises an eyebrow in question, even though their sound doesn¡¯t come close to questioning. I wave a hand and shake my head, which gets a sideways glance from them, but they go right back to their conversation a moment later.

    ¡°What the heck are these?¡± Clutter whispers, his attention locked on what looks like a family with two school-age children. ¡°Why would the quest make plastic constructs that almost look like normal people?¡±

    I blink. ¡°Almost?¡±

    Clutter nods. ¡°Yeah. Almost. Um, aside from the obvious fact that they¡¯re made of plastic¨Cjust like the construct was¨Cthere¡¯s something wrong with these ones. Here, look at this one.¡±

    He motions at a paindne sitting on a bench with their arms crossed and head turned downwards as their chest heaves rhythmically. A noise like metal scraping metal expels from them with every breath in place of the quiet breathing of sleep. I take as close a look as I dare without drawing the attention of all the other constructs here, since they can see me but not Clutter, but I can¡¯t seem to pinpoint any real differences.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because I¡¯m not a paindne, but I can¡¯t see a difference.¡± I straighten my back and raise an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with them?¡±

    The look he gives me is full of confusion. ¡°You really can¡¯t see it? It¡¯s pretty dang obvious; look at their tail.¡±

    The tail? I lean to the side and look down at it. At the base it¡¯s about the same; thick and muscular like the back half of a shark. But as I trail down to where the fin should be¡­ there¡¯s nothing there. Just a rounded tip at the very end. I frown as the inaccuracy hits me; it¡¯s something that I wouldn¡¯t have even thought to look at if Clutter didn¡¯t point it out. But now that he¡¯s mentioned it, I can¡¯t help but notice how absolutely none of these paindne have fins on their tails.

    Or sharp teeth. Instead, they¡¯ve got two rows of flat dental-appliance-like trays in their mouth that smack together like a nutcracker¡¯s mouth when they talk. And with that, the floodgates burst. I keep noticing little detail after little detail that¡¯s just¡­ wrong about them. But not outright wrong, as if whoever made them didn¡¯t know what a paindne was, but¡­ but¡­

    It¡¯s almost like they¡¯re¡­ low resolution. Just the absolute basic forms of a paindne¨Cenough to get the idea of them through, but up close, they look wrong. That¡¯d explain why their voices are weird, too; they don¡¯t have the necessary things to make complex sounds. Just one slightly different noise per person.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re here a little too early.¡± I chuckle and shake my head. ¡°The quest hasn¡¯t finished loading in all the paindne yet.¡±

    Clutter frowns deeply. ¡°It¡¯s magic. Wouldn¡¯t you feel it a lot more if they were being created right before our eyes?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± I pause and feel at my awareness. The environment around us feels slightly magical, but not the paindne. ¡°Shit, you¡¯re right. Second opinion?¡±

    Pearl shakes her head. ¡°He¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Damn. Okay, now I have no idea why we have low resolution plastic paindne here. Should we wait around and see if sleepy here starts getting some more detail?¡± I motion at the sleeping one for emphasis. ¡°Or do we think this is the most detailed the quest is going to make them?¡±

    Nobody answers. The silence speaks of uncertainty, but I¡¯m not quite in agreement. We¡¯ve seen the system make detailed reproductions with plastic, and we¡¯ve seen it be extremely lazy with it. What we haven¡¯t seen is the in-between; something that¡¯s going to eventually be completed. I have a feeling this is the most detailed we¡¯re going to see these paindne.

    ¡°Do we just¡­ keep looking?¡± Clutter asks as he looks from plastic paindne to plastic paindne. ¡°This is definitely the change the quest was talking about, so what are we supposed to do about it?¡±

    Hell if I know. Maybe it¡¯ll be obvious; another notification when the quest¡¯s done with its work. Or maybe we¡¯ll have to scour every inch of the district for hints. At least now we know where to look instead of blindly running in the hopes of finding something new. Actually¡­ what¡¯d happen if we all up and moved to another district? Would that one start changing too?

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    ¡°Something to try when we¡¯ve got fifteen people who¡¯ll work with us.¡± I murmur to myself. One of the plastic paindne looks over at me from behind a counter, but they don¡¯t say anything. ¡°Ugh, this is just unnerving. At least they¡¯re not trying to kill us.¡±

    ¡°For now.¡± Clutter grumbles. ¡°But what happens if some of those twisted paindne show up? Do we have to fight them around all these plastic people? Would we be penalized for accidentally hurting them? Or what if the quest expects us to protect these people from the things we¡¯ve been fighting so far?¡±

    Pearl hums in thought. ¡°Like a bigger version of defending the tower; defending the district. I could see that happening.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope it doesn¡¯t. This place is massive, and I¡¯m still running out of combat spells.¡± I summon a hexagonal coin and flip it in my fingers. ¡°Wish I could break these things down into ghost quarters. Then I¡¯d be way more useful.¡±

    A shiver runs down my spine. Clutter grabs my shoulder and turns me so we¡¯re back to back, his entire body tensed and ready for combat. Every single plastic face is turned to stare at me, even as their bodies keep moving through whatever else they were doing. There¡¯s no change in volume, intensity, or even hostility. Just their heads and eyes locked on me.

    I close my hand around the coin, obscuring it from view. Dozens of necks snap back into place, turning heads to their proper directions as the plastic paindne continue about their day like nothing happened. Clutter¡¯s steady breathing refuses to accept that things are normal, and the creeping sensation that we¡¯re being watched seeps into my awareness like ink dying a glass of clean water.

    ¡°You got something¡¯s attention.¡± Pearl says seriously. ¡°Be really careful with those coins. The plastic paindne might think they¡¯re¡­ one of their own.¡±

    With a shallow nod, I send the coin back to my inventory. ¡°Think it¡¯s because I¡¯m not supposed to have these at this point in the quest?¡±

    Pearl snorts. ¡°Which would make this the quest¡¯s way of warning you against using them. No, I don¡¯t think so; it seemed annoyed, but I don¡¯t think it would try to shut you out of using them. It¡¯s not like they make your spells stronger than a normal coin of that value would be.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Just be careful with them.¡± Clutter finally speaks up. ¡°The horizonguard could¡¯ve noticed that right now. Heck, he might be the presence that¡¯s sending chills down my spine.¡±

    ¡°If he wants us, he knows where we are. Probably has since we started talking to the party. Maybe even longer.¡± I latch onto the coins in the tower and nod at Clutter. ¡°I can take us back right now, or we can explore for a little while longer. You make the call.¡±

    Clutter freezes for a second, then slowly looks out into the distance. I can feel the tension in his every movement, discomfort at the plastic paindne around him plain to see. He swallows hard enough for me to see and hear it. Then his inky darkness bleeds away, and he¡¯s standing fully visible right next to me. A few of the paindne glance his way, but it¡¯s nothing more than a momentary distraction for them.

    ¡°We should check on the construct.¡± He reluctantly says. ¡°It could have some new information now that the city¡¯s¡­ populating. Or whatever this is.¡±

    I pause to give him a few seconds to reconsider. But he seems set with his decision. I pull on the relocations in the tower, drop a new pair of coins when we appear, and walk down to the room with doors as Clutter stews in his choice. The reluctant glances he shoots at the top of the tower, then at the lighthouses as we descend the stairs, speak volumes to how much he doesn¡¯t want to see the construct again.

    ¡°I can go on my own if you¡¯re this uncomfortable. It¡¯s already happened once.¡± I press my hand to the vault-like door without opening it. ¡°Stay behind if it bothers you this much.¡±

    He vigorously shakes his head. ¡°Not when you could be in danger. Last time was just for a talk; now the horizonguard could be waiting for you with spells and swords. If I let you get hurt, I¡¯d never be able to forgive myself. Even if you forgave me.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± I push intent into the door, and it hisses open. ¡°Oh, uh, just in case¡­ be ready for the construct to be¡­ not the same as the last time you saw it.¡±

    A shaky smile reflects off the wall. ¡°How bad could it be?¡±

    ¡°Bad. Or more like just plain horrific.¡± I chuckle humorlessly as I grab the door to the construct¡¯s alcove. ¡°The heart of the heretic messed with it something fierce. Just be ready for anything.¡±

    He swallows hard again. I nod in agreement and slide the door open, revealing an empty space where the construct had been. Swirls of wire-like plastic squirm about on the floor, then knit themselves together to begin forming the construct from the ground-up. Clutter whimpers as the door shuts behind us, but doesn¡¯t try to run away. I squeeze his shoulder supportively, and he shoots me a look of gratitude.

    ¡°He-he-he.¡± The construct spins up, its face half-distorted like melted metal. ¡°Trial. Heretic. Shellraiser. Come, come, come. See. Look. Witness.¡±

    Clutter grimaces and looks away. The construct doesn¡¯t even notice. If anything, it looks more damaged than the last time we saw it. Is that even possible? Did the quest do this as punishment for ¡®helping¡¯ us out?

    I grimace. ¡°The city is changing. Do you know what¡¯s going on?¡±

    A look flickers across the construct¡¯s face. It¡¯s nothing like any expression I¡¯ve ever seen before; pained, curious, desperate, bored, and certain all in one. Garbled noise spills free from its mouth out of time with the opening and closing of its lips. It¡¯s¡­ pitiable.

    ¡°What is it saying?¡± Clutter asks from behind me. ¡°I can¡¯t understand a word it¡¯s saying.¡±

    ¡°Neither can I.¡±

    ¡°Nor can we.¡±

    A shape slithers free of the shadows, long and sinuous and writhing with countless other things inside of it. Clutter yelps in surprise and tries to disappear, but he¡¯s too agitated. I summon a shield around us¨Cme, Clutter, and the construct¨Cas the shape expands and twists until it¡¯s in the shape of a body. A body cloaked in a skintight bodysuit, plentiful stone jewelry decorating every free inch of it.

    And an armored mask covering its face. Just like the horizonguard I know, but with a solemn visage of pious neutrality carved into the stone.

    ¡°How very nice to finally meet in person. We have been waiting for quite a while.¡± The masked figure coos in a soothing, smooth voice. ¡°It is saddening that we have to be enemies. You would have made an excellent unknowing source of insider information into your small yet mighty organization.¡±

 Chapter 220: Weaponized Inaction

    Soft, soothing warmth rolls off the horizonguard like morning fog. It gently presses against my shield with calm insistence, but there¡¯s no real weight to it. Even still, I can feel my magic slowly but surely giving way to his.

    ¡°Please lower your shield. It is unbecoming to put up barriers, physical or otherwise, before the conversation begins in earnest.¡± The horizonguard says smoothly, but his words are tinged with sarcasm. And the knowledge that I won¡¯t be doing what he asks. Moments pass. He shakes his head with a soft sigh. ¡°As to be expected of someone from ¡®the resort¡¯. Can you believe that I was not aware of this organization before I came in contact with the client who ordered your death? A third contender for humanity¡¯s sword. One that is seemingly weak and small, yet which is made up of three of the most frightening people I have ever laid eyes on¨Chuman or not.¡±

    He leans forward. ¡°Those three¨Cand you.¡±

    A chill runs down my spine as the warmth seeps right through my shield without damaging it. The stuff caresses my legs, relaxing my muscles almost instantly. Pure will keeps me on my feet, but the drowsy sensation not unlike lying in a warm sunbeam insistently presses on the back of my mind.

    Though his words contain a falsity; I¡¯m member number five of the resort¡¯s Worth classes. Ursula, Noland, March, and Gil. Which one doesn¡¯t he know? That could be extremely important in the minutes after we get out of this place.

    ¡°Everyone has to start somewhere.¡± I say through clenched teeth as I dig my nails into my palm. Why the hell does everyone have to have psychic-like abilities? ¡°I¡¯ve only been at this for a few months, after all.¡±

    The horizonguard nods slowly. ¡°I am aware. Your clearance rate lags behind other humans who have appeared after you have, yet your strength outmatches them by exponential levels. Combine that with the interest my colleague has shown in you and I ask myself what I am not receiving in the reports that come across my desk.¡±

    Warmth spikes to the coldest chill. Clutter yelps and tries to jump back, but he¡¯s stopped by me and the shield. My ankles twitch as the muscles inside clench as hard as physically possible, twisting everything into one extremely painful knot. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the pain from showing on my face.

    ¡°I¡¯m just that mysterious.¡± I say flatly. ¡°We¡¯d already be dead if that¡¯s what you wanted, but here we are¨Cand you¡¯re blatantly showing off a little bit of your powers. What the hell do you want from me?¡±

    ¡°From you?¡± The horizonguard chuckles and slinks forward, his entire body shifting like a liquid even though he has a humanoid shape. He plants an open palm on my shield and brings his masked face in close. ¡°There is nothing you can give me that I want. Which also means the inverse is true; there is nothing I can take from you that would lead me to hate, despise, or one of the many other synonyms for those words directed at you. Our relationship is as complex as one attempting to render services upon another. And my client did not pay anywhere near enough to mobilize me.¡±

    The other hand reaches up and splats against my shield. It pushes further than the bounds of the wrapped flesh should allow, almost like a latex glove filled with water. The cold around my ankles freezes in place, and suddenly, I can¡¯t move anything at all beneath the center of my thigh. Such a simple shift almost makes me lose my balance.

    I lean forward and put one of my hands against his to keep upright. ¡°Then why are you here? Just get the hell out and have your lackeys come for my life.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that was the plan. In fact, it still is, unless things have changed since I last reconvened with the rest.¡± The horizonguard removes his hand that isn¡¯t next to mine. ¡°We are all here. This quest is far more important than any assassination could ever hope to be. As long as you are progressing, I can guarantee your safety. If you can prove your usefulness beyond the bounds of this sealed space, I may even cancel the contract on your head.¡±

    Saccharine, sarcastic sweetness coats every single one of the horizonguard¡¯s words. Something tells me his promises are worth about as much as a candle with the wick taken out; somewhat viable at first glance, but completely worthless at any scrutiny. My distrust must show on my face, because the horizonguard snickers to himself and pulls his hand away. Leaving mine stuck to my shield with a numbing chill.

    ¡°You are right not to believe me, Shelby of the resort. My words are poison, my actions filled with deceit, and my true intentions are a riddle wrapped in so many questions that it is impossible to find a single grain of reality.¡± He takes two steps back and bows. ¡°I offer you no guarantees. I offer you no safety. All I can do is reassure you that I could have taken your life at this moment and that I chose not to. Think on that, and when we next meet, have a reason for me to intervene and save your life before someone with a much lower pay grade attempts to take it.¡±

    Magic flickers, and both warmth and cold disappear to make way for the placid sensation of room temperature. I grimace at the rapid change and the pain it brings. There¡¯s something insidious to the horizonguard¡¯s magic. And the simple fact that I actually felt this one means he wanted me to feel it. I don¡¯t even want to theorize why.

    Once he¡¯s sure I felt it, he turns and starts to¡­ wring himself out like a wet towel, shrinking down to the shadow-y form he first appeared as. Part of me just wants to let him go and hope that none of the other stonestep solutions people ever catch wind of me. But¡­ I want some answers. Even at the risk of this guy deciding I¡¯m worth his time.

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    ¡°Wait.¡±

    He stops instantly and snaps to look at me. That¡¯s¡­ unsettling. ¡°Yes?¡±

    I push back the horrible sensations and motion at the construct. ¡°Did you do this?¡±

    ¡°...No, I did not. And neither did any of my people.¡± His head slowly lolls to the side atop his wrung-out husk of a body. ¡°I had assumed that you did, or that it was always that way. Yet your question puts both of those assumptions into question. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.¡±

    Shit. Giving him new info is the last thing I wanted to do. But now that the cat¡¯s out of the bag¡­ maybe I can point him in the wrong direction.

    ¡°It was completely normal the last time I talked to it.¡± I lie through my teeth, omitting everything with it glitching out. ¡°Either the quest did all this damage, or someone else in this district decided to take their frustrations out on it.¡±

    ¡°I am perfectly capable of forming my own conclusions. You need not voice any unnecessary thoughts.¡± He says without a hint of condescension. ¡°Yet¡­ I do not enjoy having information thrust upon me like this. And so I will return the favor; there are currently seventeen people in this district with plastic anchors. They alone count for the quest¡¯s numbers. Until we inevitably meet again; I would prefer if you remained interesting. For your sake.¡±

    The veiled threat hangs in the air as the horizonguard twists himself further and further until he blinks out of existence with the smallest whisper of magic. I grit my teeth as my lips pull back into a snarl of frustration; the guy is just as powerful as I was afraid of. The only silver lining is that he didn¡¯t mention Pearl. But I really doubt that he doesn¡¯t know about her.

    He just doesn¡¯t seem to care. Which could be far scarier in its own right.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± Clutter whispers.

    I blink in surprise, then turn to him. He¡¯s kneeling on the floor as he massages his feet, which are coated in a thin layer of rapidly melting frost. From the looks of it, he took the horizonguard¡¯s attack way worse than I did.

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize. Neither of us could¡¯ve done anything.¡±

    A grimace splits his face. ¡°No. I should¡¯ve been able to do more. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m our scout. If I¡¯m not better than your awareness, then I need to be. There¡¯s no excuse for me not noticing something was wrong here. So I¡¯ll just say that next time¡­ or, um, after I actually have time to train¡­ I¡¯ll be better than your awareness. Much better.¡±

    Pearl giggles with amusement. ¡°I¡¯ll love watching him try. Maybe he¡¯ll even succeed with Illumisia¡¯s help. She¡¯d be both really proud and annoyed if that happened.¡±

    Reminds me of how she was like with me. With the threat of the horizonguard literally on our doorstep, we need to get Illumisia here as soon as possible. I summon her relocation coin and flip it through my fingers a few times to get a good feel for it. The second she appears is the moment we switch into overdrive. Honestly, I should just do it now. Briony and Vesa can stomach a little walk.

    Images of their corpses cooling on a sunny sidewalk stay my hand. I blink at the vivid scene; a pale sky, two short blades dripping blood, and a horrified crowd looking on as collective panic seeps in. My fingers freeze around the coin. Where the hell did that come from?

    ¡°Pearl, did you do that?¡±

    She raises an eyebrow. ¡°Did I do what?¡±

    I bite my lip as the images coat themselves in frost. The horizonguard¡¯s magic gently leaves my mind, pulling the scene away like a magical tow truck. Absolutely unsubtle, but it gets the threat across nonetheless. If I call Illumisia over, Briony and Vesa are dead. So I have to wait and make sure Miss S. has them safely. Somehow.

    ¡°I need to get a message to Illumisia.¡± I mutter under my breath and send her coin away. ¡°There¡¯s got to be a way to do that.¡±

    Clutter¡¯s eyes light up. ¡°We can un-grey the messenger part of your system! Then you can contact her.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ if it was that easy, we would¡¯ve done it already. The only way we¡¯ve found to de-grey things is to clear one of those side quest challenges, and we haven¡¯t found another since day one.¡± I glance over at the construct. ¡°Maybe it still has info for us, but whoever dealt with it did a damn good job at making it completely useless. Actually, I¡¯ve got an idea.¡±

    I pull out a six-Worth hexagon and flip it through my fingers. The construct shakily looks up at it, but doesn¡¯t react any more. I tilt my chin upwards and replace it with a twelve-Worth hexagon. One eye locks on the coin with more clarity than I expected this destroyed thing was capable of. Clutter grimaces at the sight and turns away, walking over to the wall to get as far away from the construct as possible.

    Can¡¯t blame him. This thing is hard to look at right now. I swap out the twelve for an eighteen. The construct¡¯s arms snap out and its palms press together at the sides to make a little bowl, as if it¡¯s asking me to put the thing inside. Hm. If it acts like this for an eighteen, I wonder how far it¡¯ll go. I take out a twenty-four to see.

    The construct¡¯s hands shake. Its face twitches, and vowel sounds repeat in a low tone out of sync with its mouth. A thirty sets its chest heaving. Finally, the thirty six causes it to drop to its knees and lower its gaze to the floor like it isn¡¯t good enough to look at the coin. I take a moment to consider if I¡¯m actually going to spend one of my only thirty-six Worth hexes on the construct. There¡¯s a good chance it¡¯ll just go back to normal. But with how spells have diminishing returns on higher Worth casts, the thirty-six isn¡¯t really that much more valuable than the thirty.

    Resolve drives me to place the coin in the construct¡¯s shaking hands. It twitches twice, then the plastic unravels into wire-like strands exactly like the rest of the plastic the construct is made up of. Slowly but surely, it absorbs the new strands into its body to make up for whatever it lost. I watch the display with grim curiosity; it really does look like muscle fibers knitting themselves onto a body. But¡­ plastic.

    A startled yelp snaps my attention to Clutter. He looks over his shoulder at me, eyes wide, and a wisp of magic connecting him to a seemingly random spot on the wall. The exact same spot that gave me the buff.

    ¡°It just called me ¡®complete¡¯!¡± He says with utter confusion. ¡°What the heck does that mean?¡±

 Chapter 221: Speculation or Worse

    Sympathy bleeds into my expression for a fraction of a second. Just a second; enough for anyone to dismiss it as a facial twitch. But Clutter latches onto it like a bloodsucking leech. He switches between staring at me and the construct, all the while growing increasingly pale as his imagination goes wild.

    ¡°No. No, no, no. I¡¯m not¡­ am I¡­¡± He swallows hard and grabs his forearm. ¡°Dead?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I half laugh, half blurt out, then snap my mouth shut.

    Clutter only grows more panicked. ¡°If I¡¯m not dead, then what am I? Did something kill the real me, and I¡¯m one of the replacements the quest hinted at?! Am I still even Clutter?!¡±

    His breaths come quicker and quicker as his eyes become unfocused and he backs into a corner. Claws dig into his forearms as he wraps himself in a hug in an attempt to become as small as physically possible. The bandages prevent any blood from spilling.

    ¡°I¡¯m not even bleeding. I should be bleeding. It still hurts but I can¡¯t bleed!¡± He says frantically as his eyes flicker over the entire room at once. His entire body shakes like a leaf as tears spill down his cheeks. ¡°I don¡¯t want to die. I don¡¯t want to be dead. I¡¯m dead. I¡¯m dead.¡±

    I stare dumbstruck as Clutter squeezes himself tighter and tighter. Squeaks, coughs, and sobs leave him in equal amounts as his gaze flickers from me to Pearl''s shell to the construct to the spot on the wall and around again.

    ¡°Clutter. You¡¯re not dead.¡± I say softly. ¡°You¡¯re just¡­ you. A paindne.¡±

    He doesn¡¯t register my words. Just¡­ stares blankly from space to space as his breathing accelerates and he shakes harder and harder. I want to help him. But¡­ I don¡¯t know how. Because telling him the truth is only a little better than what he¡¯s struggling with. All my brainpower can¡¯t come up with some way to reach him. So¡­ I¡­ damn it.

    I swallow back a lump in my throat and slowly approach Clutter. He flinches slightly at the motion, but doesn¡¯t seem to actually react to me. Quiet whispers of ¡®I don¡¯t want to die¡¯ and ¡®I¡¯m dead¡¯ flow out of him in equal measure while his eyes lock onto random parts of the room. Just like they lock onto me and the construct. I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s seeing, but it¡¯s real to him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can hear me now, but I¡¯m here. I¡¯ll¡­ always be here. For you, for Pearl, for Illumisia, for Briony and Clamber and everyone else.¡± I say as I carefully reach out to place my hand atop of his. As the words come out, they surprise me with how true they ring. ¡°But right now, I¡¯m just here for you. Even if I have absolutely no idea how to help.¡±

    Clutter whimpers, and he shifts his hand so he¡¯s clutching mine. His claws dig into my skin hard enough to draw blood, wisps of inky darkness coating the ends of his fingers. I don¡¯t have to grit my teeth through the pain; Clutter¡¯s feeling so much worse right now. And I can¡¯t even tell him the truth, because it¡¯d just lead to another existential crisis.

    I grip his bandage-covered forearm. My blood drips down and soaks into the fabric. Clutter¡¯s eyes flick down to it, and I might be imagining it, but it seems like he notices. I force myself to smile¨Cto be stronger than I feel¨Cand reach up with my other hand to gently scratch between his ears.

    ¡°You¡¯re you. Nobody else. Nothing can take that away from you.¡± I whisper. His hand clutches harder. ¡°Not the quest, not the system, not anyone. No matter what happens, you¡¯re still you. Flesh and blood. Bone and fur. Tooth and claw.¡±

    His breathing steadies, but doesn¡¯t slow. He squeezes my hand, slowly retracting his claws until it¡¯s just the force of his fingers attempting to crush my bones. I sit patiently, constantly scratching his head, for as long as it takes. Pearl whispers some words of encouragement to both of us, but I don¡¯t need them. Clutter¡¯s my friend. One that I dragged into this. Even if he says he doesn¡¯t regret his decision, it doesn''t change the fact that I¡¯m the reason he had to make a choice in the first place.

    Being here with him in a moment of conflict is the least I can do.

    <hr>

    It lasts so long. Even if it¡¯s only ten minutes, that¡¯s way too long. To be locked in your own mind as it screams the worst at you, and you can¡¯t fully understand what¡¯s going on¡­ I don¡¯t want to imagine it. But his breathing seems to have leveled out. He¡¯s barely shaking, and all the tension has bled from him to leave behind an exhausted, hurt, and terrified bundle of my friend. He slowly looks around, the light finally back in his eyes, and locks onto my hand. With dried bloody divots where his claws were.

    ¡°Did I¡­¡± He swallows around a dry mouth. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to.¡±

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    ¡°No, you don¡¯t have to apologize. Just sit here until you feel like yourself again.¡± I smile sincerely and flip my hand around to squeeze his. ¡°I¡¯ll be right here for as long as you need me to.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Thank you.¡±

    I nod ever so slightly and wait. Silence stretches on as the sound of Clutter¡¯s breathing becomes nothing but a quiet background huff. His grip strength returns from the almost non-existence it turned into when his eyes focused to a normal squeeze¨Cnothing like the frantic desperation of before. Even though all that returns to normal, there¡¯s still an underlying fear and discomfort in his gaze. One that says this¡¯ll stick with him for too long.

    He tries to shake my hand off. ¡°I¡¯m okay now. I swear.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sure? There¡¯s no hurry.¡± I insist, but don¡¯t resist him. ¡°Worst thing that can happen is the horizonguard comes back here, and that doesn¡¯t seem like it¡¯s going to happen. It¡¯s safe.¡±

    Clutter lets out a shaky breath, then squeezes my hand tight again. ¡°...Thanks. I¡¯m¡­¡±

    I shake my head. ¡°Don¡¯t say sorry. Thank you is already more than enough.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± He smiles weakly. ¡°Then thank you. I¡­ don¡¯t know what happened. Everything just kind of¡­ sucked in on itself until it felt like I was staring at the universe through a pinhole. And everything I could see said I was dead. Or¡­ worse.¡±

    He swallows hard, then turns to the construct, which has completely rebuilt itself from my coin. I can see the question forming on his lips. But I doubt the construct has the answers he¡¯s looking for¨Cnot if it¡¯s just repaired to what it was like when we first found it.

    If he wants answers, he¡¯s getting them from me. ¡°Clutter. I can tell you what you want to know.¡±

    A soft, shaky laugh escapes his lips. ¡°I was afraid of that. Are they¡­ really bad?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t say. Maybe.¡± I shrug as he lets go of my hand. ¡°It¡¯s not happy, but it¡¯s infinitely better than being dead.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not really hard to do.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    He contemplatively stares at me long and hard. Then, with one small nod, he sets his resolve. ¡°I want to know.¡±

    A chittering, mechanical whir emerges from the construct. ¡°What is it you wish to know?¡±

    I wave the construct off as I get to my feet, then offer Clutter my hand. ¡°Nothing from you. Let¡¯s go back to the tower where nobody will bother us.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Okay.¡± Clutter accepts my hand and I pull him to his feet. ¡°Let¡¯s get away from this thing.¡±

    The construct stares at us as we reopen the door to the tower. I make sure Clutter steps through first, careful to watch for a sway in his step or a twitch in his legs. He leans on the wall the moment he¡¯s through, then turns and watches me expectantly. With the knowledge that he¡¯s safe, I follow him through the door.

    Scraping, plastic-y footsteps follow me. Clutter and I turn in surprise as the construct walks right through the door and into our tower without either of us having to give it permission.

    ¡°Um¡­¡± He trails off as he glances through the closing door. ¡°Is it supposed to be able to do that?¡±

    ¡°Definitely not. Is it going to disappear when¡­ nope.¡± I sigh as the door shuts, leaving the construct in the room with us. ¡°Why did I expect anything to be normal. You, construct. Stay here. I have questions for you later.¡±

    ¡°Understandable. I, myself, am not quite aware of what has happened to me.¡± The construct looks down at its hands as a toothy grin splits its face. ¡°¡®Me¡¯. Alone. Singular. How intoxicating.¡±

    Yeah, that¡¯s definitely not concerning. I gently grab Clutter¡¯s shoulder and lead him out of the room with doors, then sit him on the bottom-most stair. He lets free a titanic sigh and nearly turns into jelly the moment his butt touches stone.

    ¡°Walking sucks right now.¡± He grumbles. ¡°All my muscles hurt a lot. Is the healing thing working right now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll switch it right over.¡± I say as I pull out my Class Card and do exactly that. ¡°Oh, right, we¡¯ve got enough magic to have all of them on at once. Yeah, it¡¯s on. Can you feel a difference?¡±

    He shrugs. ¡°I think so? Maybe my brain¡¯s just too foggy right now. Um¡­ it¡¯s not too foggy to hear what you¡¯re going to tell me, though.¡±

    Figured. I run my hand through my hair, then gently knock on Pearl¡¯s shell to get her to come out. Illumisia¡¯s the one who told us this, but with Pearl backing me up, Clutter will believe me. She crawls out and sits on my shoulder, her body as motionless and serious as possible. Clutter shivers at the sight of her.

    ¡°It¡¯s that bad?¡± He whispers.

    ¡°It depends what you think ¡®bad¡¯ is.¡± Pearl replies. ¡°Do you want me to say it, or Shelby?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll¨C¡± I start to say, but what Pearl said actually hits me. She¡¯s asking Clutter what he wants. Not me.

    Certainty etches itself into every inch of Clutter¡¯s body. ¡°I want¡­ Shelby¡­ to say it.¡±

    My name leaving his mouth carries a strange amount of weight. I can¡¯t place why, but it feels¡­ different. Riding the sensation to bring my own confidence to the forefront, I take a deep breath and push the words to the tip of my tongue. Part of them I know is a certainty. The other I¡¯m not even sure I should say, since it¡¯s just a nagging feeling that¡¯s been nipping at the back of my mind. I decide to leave that theory out and put forth only what I know as the truth.

    ¡°The system forcibly uplifted the paindne from painted danes.¡±