Book 7 Finale Extravaganza. (3 of 3) Chapters 86, 87, Epilogue (Patreon)

STOP. This is part 3 of a 3-part chapter dump. The current stickied chapter is part 1. This is part 3 of 3.

Part 1 https://www.patreon.com/posts/114655482

Part 2 https://www.patreon.com/posts/book-7-finale-2-114658584

Okay folks, this is it.

~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 86

8 Minutes Until the destruction of the 9th Floor.

“Okay,” I said to Samantha. Sweat poured down the side of my head. “The moment he grabs you, just answer his questions. Tell the truth. Lie. I don’t care.” I indicated the xistera on my arm. “I will try to get you back, but I can’t if he’s actually touching you. Maybe try to get him to throw you in the volcano or something.” The moment I dropped the xistera off my arm, she would get teleported back to us, but as we knew all too well, bringing her back to me was a really dangerous thing to do.

But if I didn’t bring her back, and she wasn’t in a saferoom before Donut and I left the floor, we’d lose her. We’d never see her again.

“I will ask you if he’s touching you. You will answer, and you will tell the truth. Got it?”

“I thought you told me to lie,” Samantha said.

“No, no. You know what I mean. Tell the truth. And don’t bring him back here!”

“Got it,” Samantha said. She’d wrapped several of the streamers around her head.

Above, Prepotente floated. He pointed in a direction. The god was waiting exactly where I figured he’d be. In the volcano. I aimed, and I fired, arcing Samantha up and out of Larracos.

It would take a few minutes for her to make the journey.

Prepotente: That looks like a good throw, Carl. Yes, he sees her. He’s moving to catch her, I think. The streamers were a nice touch. I am now entering the stairwell. Good luck to you all.

Carl: Thank you, Prepotente. See you on the next floor.  

Prepotente: I love you.

Carl: Uh, love you too, buddy.

Larracos was gone. All that was left now was a massive pit. A few saferooms remained, just doorways against the sloped pit of Larracos, including one, thankfully, at the very bottom.  

Where the castle used to be, there was a bed of roots as thick as elephant trunks.

They were old and dead, and they turned to mulch the moment we touched them. They seemed to be covering a giant hole, and I wondered what would happen if I just walked out onto the roots. Would I fall? Would I fall all the way to the land of the gods?  

The massive dwarven digger was gone, leaving a dark hole. That was good. Our guys would have that thing on the 12th floor.  

Several stairwells to the 10th floor filled the area, and the remaining crawlers were streaming into them as quickly as they could.

Florin had talked Lucia Mar into partying with him. He said she’d agreed to take a deal, but she’d been sketchy.

None of us believed she actually would. And as a result, he would not take one, either.

Tran went into the stairwell, as did so many others, including Zhang, who went in alone. I’d asked him if he was going to take a deal, and he said he didn’t know. Li Na remained partied with him, but she hadn’t spoken to him at all. She, too, had gone into the stairwell without saying a word.

Jurgen stopped by and gave me a kiss on both cheeks before he left. Osvaldo and his team went in. Britney said she was contemplating a deal, but was afraid and would probably be back. Tuba and Selvi, the party members of the dead Burcu left. They both said they were taking a deal. Neither had told me the why or how they considered me as the one who’d killed their father, and I feared I’d never know.

That’s the problem with such chaos. You lose so much around the edges.

The moment I thought that, I thought I heard a distant laughing deep, deep in the back of my mind, and it terrified me because it came from within the river. The river I had hoped would leave with the destruction of the ring. The laughter sounded distinctly like that of Eris, the goddess of chaos.  

“Jamal is very excited about this,” Jamal said, bouncing up and down on his new—and final—set of legs. He’d decided to stay remain in the saferoom during the Zerzura and he was one of the few NPCs who’d decided to stay with us. It was him, most of the surviving sluggalos, the strippers, and a handful of former crawlers, including Rosetta, Tipid—who didn’t have a choice for the moment—along with several others. “I would very much like to see a goddess like Eileithyia. I have heard she is quite beautiful. But not as beautiful as her retainer, Yemaya. Do you think she will come as well?”

Yemaya was the goddess who looked like the Starbucks logo. “No,” I said. “And get back to the saferoom. Things might happen fast, and if you’re not in there, you’ll get stuck here.”   

“And if you and Donut both die, that saferoom will go away, and Jamal would get smushed. I would very much like to stay outside for the moment.”

“Okay. But stay near the door.” 

“Jamal will stand in the shade. It is getting quite toasty indeed.”

“Juice Box left me,” Louis said, coming to sit down in the tent. He still had his hand wrapped around his own throat, as if he was afraid the rebreather would choke him. He was constantly spraying water out his new gills. “She gave me divorce papers.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad Samantha isn’t here. She would probably say something very inappropriate right now,” Donut said. “Now get into the stairwell, Louis. There’s nothing more you can do here.”

“No way,” Louis said. “I gotta say goodbye to Katia.”

In the tent standing watch over Katia was me, Donut, Elle, Imani, and Louis. Edgar went to the 12th floor. Bucket Boy was in the saferoom with the rest of the strippers. Mongo had freaked out when Tina and Kiwi and the new babies had disappeared, but we’d coaxed him into his carrier. Rend as well.   

Bautista had disappeared. I searched him out, and he’d gone into the safe room. I didn’t know where he was now, but I sent him a message telling him he was running out of time.

Bautista: Sorry. I’m doing something in the crafting room quickly. I’m coming.

Carl: She’s about to wake up.    

“He’s gone. He’s not dead, because he’s in my goddamn chat, but he’s gone,” Rosetta said, entering the tent. She was talking about Justice Light, who’d disappeared with Juice Box. She was talking to Victory, who strolled in with her.

“Perhaps you should have watched him better,” Victory said. “He built a trans-dimensional trap right underneath your castle, and you didn’t even notice because he decorated it with regular traps.”

“It is kind of a disappointment that we never got to use that whole tunnel of traps after all that work,” Donut said. “Like it was all built up, and nobody ever got to the throne room to find out it was actually directly below, and they had to go through this whole Home Alone house thing to really get to it. People don’t like being teased with stuff that never happens. Like with Carl’s Christmas present he still hasn’t opened, or my berserker spell. I hope it doesn’t hurt my numbers too much.”

I grunted. “Something tells me while he was willing to use the traps that way, he has something much bigger up his sleeve. And I’m waiting to open the present for a time when I really, really need it.”

“It’s a pair of romance novels, Carl. And it got all built up, and now you’ll be nothing but disappointed when you open it.”

I laughed. 

“Wait, what the heck is a trans-dimensional trap anyway?” Donut asked. “Goodness it’s getting hot. And not that I’m complaining, because you’re rather pleasant for an orc, but why are you even still here, Baroness Victory?”

“It’s a trap that affects more than one place at a time. At least here in the dungeon,” I said.

“I am here because I am waiting to be onboarded onto the Syndicate’s new temporary forward headquarters on the surface of the planet since the ship got shot down,” Victory said.

“You’re not going to the 18th floor with the rest of the adjutants?” I asked.

“No,” she said. She straightened. “With the unfortunate death of my underage nieces and nephews up in orbit, I once again became eligible for political office. Not allowed to be in office if you have underage leaders in your family. It’s an arcane rule. Anyway, as people weren’t certain of former Prime Minister Fopsy’s relationship to the Dream, he was passed over for the newly-vacated position of Syndicate Prime Minister. As a result, I am now acting Prime Minister Victory. There will be a real vote in a few months, but in the meantime, I’m it. They wanted someone stuck here with the rest of us so I could truly focus on the crisis.”

“Well, shit,” I said.

“Yes,” Rosetta said. “Well shit, indeed.”

“Wait, does that mean you can stop all this and get us out of here?” Donut asked. She gasped. “Carl, we know a prime minister!”  

“It’s only temporary,” Victory said. “And even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. I have less power now than I did when I was a judge. The council is just as bad as the Lemig Sortion these days. It’s total gridlock.”

I casually stepped forward, and I put my hand on her shoulder. I felt the softness to her physical form. She was still protected. If I tried to punch her, my arm would go straight through. “I wish you good luck in your new job, madame Prime Minister.”

As much as I loathed the idea of killing another few thousand shmucks who’d gotten railroaded into coming down here for the crawl, as much as I actually liked Victory, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not even for a moment, to kill the goddamn prime minister of the Syndicate.  

She snorted. She knew it, too.  

“Everyone be quiet!” Donut shouted. “She’s waking up!”

I kept a nervous watch on the clock. Samantha would have gotten to Emberus by now. Hopefully she would stall him as long as possible.

Carl: Tell us the moment he’s done with you.

Samantha: HE’S JUST HOLDING ME AND CRYING. YOUR GOD IS A LITTLE BITCH, CARL. MAYBE IT’S GOOD I HELPED KILL OFF HIS BLOODLINE.

Carl: Don’t fucking say that out loud.

On the table, Katia woke up.

System Message: Eileithyia has entered the realm.

You are in the presence of a deity. The Scavenger’s Daughter has opened her eyes. She fills with power.

Temporary effect from Eileithyia: All damage you strike against female opponents is quartered. All female members of your party strike with a melee power of 500%. Girl power, bitches! 

Next to me, Donut gasped at the sight of the human-sized goddess, standing in the tent.

The last time we’d seen her, she’d been in the form of Huanxin Jinx, the Grixist. But now she took on the goddess’s true form, which we hadn’t yet seen. She was a large, humanoid woman wearing flowers in her hair and white and gold robes. Her olive skin, dark eyes, and dark, curly hair were all human, but her lower face was not, which was surprising to me, considering the Greek nature of her name. Her appearance was kind, despite the distinctly alien, almost nullian-like half of her face. She appeared to have four breasts, but it was hard to tell upon her pillowy, voluptuous body. She wore sandals, and each foot only held three toes. She only had three fingers about each hand.

Goddess of Childbirth and Female Pain Eileithyia. Level 250.

Sponsored by Huanxin Jinx of the Grixist Swarm, CEO of Icon Industries.

Warning: This is a deity. She is invulnerable on this floor.

This goddess has been temporarily summoned to this location. Summoning rules apply.

The description and the temporary effect was the same as the last time we’d seen her, all those days ago in the cemetery on Cuba.

She was described as kind and gentle, and her true form relayed that perfectly.

The goddess snorted with derision. “You fucking, idiotic pricks should have done this days ago. Katia, get up and let’s go. The whole court is in a tizzy about that city you fools just teleported in. It splattered an entire convent of Resheph’s nuns, and he is losing his mind. And now all those zombies are wandering all over the place and fucking Odette has taken control of them because she’s already taken out Inpewt, and it’s a big mess and the games haven’t even started yet. We have a lot of work to do.”

“Hello, Huanxin,” Victory said from her spot next to the table.

The timer on Emberus was about to expire, but I prayed Samantha was giving us more time.

The goddess snorted. “Victory. How many cocks did you have to suck to get that job? And I’m sure it’s just an unfortunate coincidence your underage nephew was blown out of orbit. Now that idiot the Maestro is the king, and you’re Prime Minister. Well, don’t get used to it. With all the death and chaos your little team has caused, it’s not going to matter who’s in charge. They’ll have your head on a pike in no time.”

“Wait,” Donut said. “Carl, did you hear that? The Maestro is the king?”

“Maybe,” Huanxin said with a laugh. “The fate of his sister is unknown, but he’s already claiming the crown.”

Victory grunted. “Aren’t half your holdings with the mantids?”

“What’s it to you?”

“The newest mantis colony system just went dark,” she said. “The same moment that other rottweiler died a few hours back. We’re still not sure what’s going on there, but initial reports are a little more holistic than they were in the Aryl system. The system’s star went supernova.”

“You’re a lying bitch,” Huanxin said. She laughed. “And even if you aren’t, I have insurance.”   

“Wow, you’re certainly pleasant,” Donut said. “Are you planning on just being this miserable all the time? Because I’m afraid that’s not going to work for our Katia. She doesn’t work well with high-strung people.”  

“Don’t tempt me, you little rat. I’m saving your ass, and I’m already irritated at everything that’s happened so far.”

Bautista burst into the room, and we all tensed. I’d been expecting him to come, to do something stupid. But he walked in holding several strange devices in his arms.

“I got them done,” he said.

“Oh, Daniel,” Katia said, speaking for the first time. “I didn’t think you knew.”

“Oh course I knew,” he said. “I love you. I’m sorry I made you doubt me.”

In the distance, the ground shook.

Samantha: MAN, THIS GUY DOES NOT HANDLE BAD NEWS VERY WELL.

Carl: Goddamnit Samantha, we need time!

“Come on Katia,” Huanxin said.

“You know, Carl and I were just talking about this earlier,” Donut said. “About how reusing jokes and insults and spells can sometimes be a little boring. And I don’t disagree. But sometimes, the classics are classics for a reason. Don’t you agree?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Huanxin asked. “Damnit, Katia. I can’t take you until you make a choice. It doesn’t matter what you pick. Just pick one.”

Right now Katia had three choices floating in her vision. The first would cause her constitution to get extremely powerful. The second would allow her to become a celestial attendant. The third would cause her to get pregnant. Ultimately the choice was up to the goddess, but Katia had to pick one before Eileithyia could whisk her away.

“Choose already. Choose or I will kill the cat and Carl.”

Bubbles were already appearing behind the goddess as Donut cast her level-15, now enhanced to level-16, Laundry Day.

Eileithyia remained standing in the room, but Huanxin Jinx was ripped from the soul armor of the goddess, and she hit the floor, sliding. She came to a stop in a large circle filled with multiple words of power.  

“You idiots,” Huanxin cried as numerous shields suddenly appeared around the heiress.

“See those words you’re standing on,” I said, indicating the floor. “That was a last-minute addition. You can’t teleport away while you’re standing on that. Your tech shields will work, yes, but no magic will.”

“And do you see my new kneepads. Aren’t they lovely?” Donut asked. “They’re a celestial item I got from Katia, but they fit me. I don’t really need this with you, if we’re being perfectly honest. But the Eileithyia bonus is a 500% bonus against enemies. And because I’m partied with Carl, his bonus gives me another 500%. I don’t have the same debuff he has because I’m a girl. I’m about to use that bonus against you. I’m not sure if that counts as ironic or not.”

Donut started to stalk in a circle around Huanxin. “I also recently upgraded a skill because of my lovely shawl. It’s not quite at 15 yet, but it’s getting there. Wanna know what it is?”

Donut moved like lightning, so fast I couldn’t see. One moment she was on one side of the circle, and the next, she was on the other. Sparks flew in the air.  

“All cats have it, naturally. It’s called Claw. I was at level 4 before, but now I’m approaching 15.”

The shields around Huanxin were now just simply gone.  

“But again,” Donut continued, “That wasn’t necessary. I’m just showing off a little.”    

“Goddess. Do something,” Huanxin said to Eileithyia, who now just stood there.

“She can’t move until Katia makes her choice,” Victory said. “It’s a little quirk of the system. She’s not even seeing this, I don’t think. See, normally the goddess won’t even appear until Katia makes the choice, but when she’s sponsored, it changes. There’re lots of odd rules like this that cause these little game glitches.”   

A strange device just suddenly appeared on Donut’s back. This was from the gold benefactor box she’d received from the apothecary. A simple gift, but the implication was clear.

Quadruped weapon mount.

“The scorpion’s bite.”

Non-magical bandolier accessory. Allows for the mounting of multiple ranged weapons. May fire and load via inventory action.  

Katia’s crossbow formed on Donut’s back, attached to the mount. Enchanted Repeating Crossbow of the Scavenger Mother of Mothers. The large, deadly crossbow was bigger than Donut, and it formed with an ominous click. It wasn’t loaded.  

She held the heavy weight of it all just fine.

Donut’s circling was becoming mesmerizing. She was weaving a charisma-based skill that terrified the enemy. The more terrified they were, the more experience points she received. It was called Monologue. I was pretty sure the AI had made that one up just for this occasion.  

“Unfortunately, the crossbow isn’t as strong as it could be because I don’t have any women in my party, but again, that doesn’t matter.”   

And that’s when Mordecai walked into the tent.  

“My friend Mordecai here has a bit of history with you, doesn’t he?” Donut asked. “He hasn’t told us the whole story, but we know enough.” 

“You’re a non-combatant NPC,” Huanxin hissed at Mordecai. She held her arm, which dripped blood. “You can’t touch me. You can’t fucking touch me.”

“No, I can’t. Not directly,” Mordecai said. He held something up. It was a simple crossbow bolt. There was nothing magical about it. “You see this?” He flicked the tip. “My brother died because of you and because of Odette and because of Chaco. But mostly because of you. Some of my mother’s ashes are built into the tip of this bolt. It’s a funeral rite, in my culture. To make a weapon with the ashes of those you lost. My mother died before the crawl came to my world, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to allow her to avenge her son.”

Mordecai turned his attention to Katia. “Goodbye, Katia. Be safe, kid.”

He loaded the bolt into the crossbow on Donut’s back, turned, and he walked from the tent.

“I am here to save you,” Huanxin hissed. “This was a problem you created, and I gave you a solution.”

“Typical,” Donut said, still stalking in a circle around the trapped woman. “We were in trouble, yes. And you sold us a solution, yes. But you’re just like everyone else. You weren’t trying to help my friend. No, you fucking bitch. You were exploiting her.”

“Oh boo fucking hoo,” Huanxin spit. “You think you can beat us? We are gods! Let me go free, and I will forget everything.”

“Again,” Donut said, continuing her slow, panther-like stalk in circles around Huanxin. “We don’t really need to go through all this. But we want to. We want to show those of you on the 12th floor what’s coming. You’re strong, yes. But we are getting stronger every day. And you know what? We don’t need to kill the gods and goddesses to win. No, honey...”

The crossbow on her back fired, and the bolt slammed right between the multiple sets of eyes of the alien.

Huaxin Jinx, CEO of Icon industries rocketed backwards, slid across the floor, and came to a rest at Victory’s feet, dead.

“...We just need to kill you.”

Samantha: OKAY, CARL I TOLD HIM EVERYTHING I KNOW BUT NOW HE’S REALLY MAD. I SAID I AGREED TO HELP BECAUSE THE DOGGIE WOULD GO TO THE NOTHING BUT I DON’T REALLY KNOW WHO THE GUY IN THE HOODIE WAS, AND NOW HE’S LIKE, SUPER MAD. THE VOLCANO THING IS ABOUT TO ERUPT AGAIN I THINK.

“We gotta hurry,” I said as I rushed forward. I tried to pull her body into my inventory, and it wouldn’t let me. “Donut, permission to loot!”

“Oh, sorry,” she said.

I picked up the body, and I took it. We didn’t want Eileithyia to get too upset.

“You know, this freezing the god thing is a hell of an exploit,” I said.

“It has been around for a long time,” Victory said. “It’s hard to get it right, though. First you need a choice option, and then you need it to be a sponsored god. The choice expires after a couple of minutes, so Katia needs to get moving. And now all the sponsors are going to be wary. Okay, team. They are calling me away. I’m sure we’ll speak soon. I’m about to get yelled at for allowing the murder of another CEO. It was all within the rules, but they won’t care. Congratulations on your victory.”

“Yeah,” I said as Baroness Victory, now Prime Minister Victory disappeared for the last time.

The world rumbled.

“Shit, guys,” Elle said. “That was pretty damn intense.”

“Everyone, give me a hug. Quick,” Katia said. “I have to make a choice. It’s beeping at me.”  

And we did. We all hugged Katia, one by one. I still had the xistera extension on my arm, and it was awkward, but I managed. Donut jumped on her lap.

“That was pretty wild,” Louis said, blowing water on her.

Katia rubbed her eyes. “All of you. Finish this for me.”

Elle hovered over her. “Damnit, kiddo. Don’t make me cry.”

Imani also hugged Katia. “Be safe.”  

“Every day something bad happens,” Donut said from Katia’s lap. “I want to think this is going to be a good thing, but I am so scared I’m never going to see you again.”

Katia reached down and kissed Donut on the forehead. “You keep him safe. And now I have to press the button.”

We met eyes for the briefest moment, and I nodded.

Katia made her choice.

An instant later, the goddess moved, not even realizing she’d been frozen. She looked, confused at the bubbles still on her arms. And then she saw Katia, gasped, and moved straight to her. The goddess put her hand on Katia’s cheek.  

“I know you,” Eileithyia said as she touched Katia. “You have always been one of my own, as are all who’ve been touched by the stillness. I wish peace upon you, daughter. You have made a boon choice. Are you sure of your preference?”

Katia sat up straight in the bed. She tentatively reached up, and she grasped the hand against her cheek. She looked the goddess in the eye. “Please, goddess. Please.” She took a breath.

“I wish to be made pregnant.”

Eileithyia cocked her head to the side. “Are you certain? This is a hard, cruel world you have found yourself in, and as a woman with gift, your challenges will be even greater. If you come to assist me and Yemaya in my court, I promise you will be kept safe. I sense the strength in you, and you would be welcome.”

“The rules of this world are strange,” Katia said. “If I am pregnant, I get sent somewhere else. There are no children or pregnant women allowed here in this place. At least not of my kind. But there are several children, up there,” Katia said, pointing upward. “And they are mostly alone. I think they’re in trouble. They all need help, and this is the only way I can get to them.”

Eileithyia hesitantly looked upward and stared up into the sky. “I... I sense them,” she said, her voice full of wonder. “I sense that place. Strange. There are so many of my daughters there, all alone and afraid. Why couldn’t I sense them until now? I... I can’t reach them. What is that place?”

“You can’t get there,” Donut said. “But Katia can, and she can protect them for you.”

Eileithyia nodded. “That is wisdom, champion of Nekhebit, harbinger of doom.”

“Uh, yeah,” Donut said.

The goddess turned to Katia. “You will be made human once again. And you must choose a father for the child. The father must be human as well.” The goddess looked at me, eyes blazing. “I see who you wish for it to be, but it cannot be so.” Standing next to me, Bautista stiffened.

Katia looked uncertain. “Louis. Would you be willing?”

“Uh,” Louis said. He reached up and touched his neck. “Am I still human?”

“That’s actually a good question,” Donut muttered. “The last thing Katia needs is a baby with flippers!”

Eileithyia smiled, and she put her hand on Louis’s hand. “Of course you are. And a good soul at that.”

“Then sure, I guess. I mean, if she’ll have me.”

“Of course, Louis,” Katia said.

“Then it will be so,” Eileithyia said. She reached down, and she put her hand on Katia’s stomach. “First, you will be made human again.”

And then Katia started to change. She grew smaller, and smaller. Her blonde hair turned black. Her frame shrank. Next to me, Donut shouted.

“Katia!” Donut gasped, leaping forward. We all rushed to her.

Her entire right arm was gone, all the way to the shoulder. Her left leg was gone. Her right leg was gone up to the knee. She was missing an ear as well.

Katia smiled sadly. “Just a few things I’ve lost along the way.”

I remembered when she’d lost the ends of her fingers on her hand, all the way back on the Iron Tangle.

“I had no idea,” I said.

“How could you? We’ve all become experts at hiding what we’ve really lost.” 

“Here, quick,” Bautista said, quickly installing the cybernetic arm and leg onto her. She’d made them herself, in anticipation of this. She’d left them in the crafting room, and Bautista had finished them for her. We all worked, clicking and fastening them into place just as Eileithyia, ignoring all this, placed her three-fingered hand on Katia’s stomach.

. “It is done. It will be a boy.”

“Spoilers,” Louis muttered.

We all backed up, and the word Ineligible appeared over Katia’s head.

“Bye, guys,” Katia said. She raised her cybernetic, right arm and waved. 

And then, just like that, Katia Grimmsdottir... Art Professor. Crawler. Hero. Human.

Mother.

...disappeared in a puff of smoke.  

“Bye, Katia,” Donut said sadly.

Eileithyia nodded, and then she, too, faded away.

The Scavenger’s Daughter has closed her eyes. The benefit fades.

Chapter 87

Samantha: HE’S NOT TOUCHING ME ANYMORE. BRING ME BACK! BRING ME BACK!

I dropped the xistera, and Samantha clunked to the ground, heavy and smoking. If I thought she’d been burned before, this was ten times worse. I barely recognized her.

“Okay, that was pretty wild. He was going to eat me, but I had him throw me in a volcano like you said. He’s blowing up the world now, so, yeah we should probably go.”

Warning: Emberus will destroy the 9th floor in three minutes. 

On the table remained a pair of items. One was Katia’s card from the previous floor. The one depicting Annie the crow. Donut took it.

The second was a bra. A bra with my own face on one cup, and the words “Time to pay the daddy tax” on the other.

“What the fuck, Carl?” Elle asked. She whipped down and took it.

I was assuming Katia had gotten that on the Dungeon Sidekicks show, so long ago. She’d left it on the table as a joke.   

“You know,” Donut said after a moment.. “I feel really bad about pooping in Mordecai’s mother’s ashes now. Do you think any of it got into the tip thing? I’m never going to not think of that now when I think of Huanxin. It was supposed to be this big, grand gesture, but she was really killed by a cat poop arrow.” 

“Don’t you dare say that to Mordecai,” I said.

“Has anyone noticed that it’s like, really, really hot?” Elle asked.

“Yeah, guys, time to leave,” Imani said.

“Right behind you,” Louis said. He paused and looked up into the sky. “I really wish I could’ve kept Party Planner.”

I grunted. “Remember what you said before? They told you airships wouldn’t be allowed on the next floor anyway. Besides, we have another plane now. Florin stole one, and it’s in the hangar.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Louis said. 

“Oooh, Cousin Louis, I like the upgrades,” Samantha said. She floated up and started blowing in his gills.

“Yeah, uh, thanks for letting me use your body.”

“And now I get to use yours. Fair trade, no?”

Donut was on my shoulder. “Samantha, you look like a piece of popcorn shrimp that has been stuck at the bottom of the oven for two years straight. And be gentle with Louis. He just got a divorce.”

Samantha gasped. “Louis is back on the market?”

Bautista paused next to us. “I know you think I was going to do something horrible or jealous. I want you to know I almost did. I keep losing family, Carl. It makes me scared, and it makes me angry. And I know I am not considered human anymore, and that is my great shame, especially today. But I would never do anything to hurt a brother like you.”

I clasped him on the shoulder as he, too, turned to the stairwell. He paused. “I looked up the Kimaris figure you have. He’s one of the brothers of Sheol. He has a summoning time of ‘the remainder of the floor.’ Be careful with him.” He entered the stairwell.  

“Kimaris!” Samantha asked, zipping away from Louis, who took the respite to also dive into the stairwell. “You have Kimmy as a stuffed animal? Give him to me. Give him now!”   

“Who is he to you?” I asked. “I know he’s not your ex-boyfriend. That was King Blaine.”

“He’s one of my best friends. I met him when...” She paused. “Huh,” she said. “That’s weird. Why couldn’t I remember that? He’s... He’s the one who gave me the potion that would put my baby in me when I couldn’t get pregnant. We were friends. He’d give me advice on who to date, who to see and who to...” She floated off, muttering. She gasped. “His mother! I will kill his mother!”   

She moved back to the saferoom, leaving a black, charred smear over the door. 

Mordecai remained outside, just sitting in the dirt, staring upward. He’d gotten a cigarette and a bottle of Crown Royal from somewhere. Dawn was rising, and red comets from the exploding volcano streaked through the air above us. The heat was sweltering. We only had a minute left.

“You better get back in the saferoom,” I said.

“I lost so much today,” Mordecai replied. He stood and wiped himself off. He threw the bottle, and it crashed through the rotten roots, disappearing. “But I think I gained more. Thank you, Donut, for setting that up.”

He stepped toward the door.

“You doing okay?” I asked Donut as we moved to the stairwell.

“I’m going to miss her,” she said. “But you know what, Carl?”

“What’s that?”

“They are not going to break me. I simply won’t allow it.”

I reached up, and I gave her a pat.

Together, we walked into the stairwell, leaving the now-empty battlefield of Larracos behind.

~

There were only two people left on the floor.

One was Emberus, who filled the world with fire.

The second was Justice Light, who’d used a spell to hide his presence. When Juice Box jumped into the Nothing, he had told her he was going with her. He’d lied. He needed to be on this side of the veil to activate the trap. 

Juice Box would be fine, if her short time in the Nothing didn’t drive her mad. She had a journey ahead of her, but like he told her, if she managed to survive this next part, she would be the ultimate weapon to end this madness. This war.

Part of him felt bad. All his friends left in the dungeon could possibly suffer because of what he was about to do. Porthus knew the plan. The Apothecary knew the plan. He truly believed the survivors were up to the challenge, but everything was about to get much more complicated.

Most people were about to take deals. Most of the former crawlers were now on their way back to orbit. He took solace in that.

He took one last look around the elaborate system of traps he’d never needed.

And then he turned his attention on the single, small trap that was about to change the course of all history.

Justice Light: I am not sorry. Peace to you all, brothers and sisters.

He took his talon, and he snapped a piece of twine.

System Message: A Legendary Trap has been triggered.

The simple, tiny trap toppled over. This caused two items to fall into the open portal below it. The permanent portal into the Nothing was made from the now-broken, blood-soaked winding box from the Gate of the Feral Gods. The same portal Juice Box had just used to flee the ninth floor.

The items that fell were a bijou fairy trap, along with the thousands of threads that connected the fairies to the 12th floor, and a demon trap, along with the thousands of evicted demons with the power to open a portal back to Sheol, if only they could find something to latch onto.

What happened next was exactly what Justice Light had intended.

He never got to see the next messages, however. Still, his last moments were spent envisioning what was happening. Four separate plains—all jumbled and confused—folded and moved together as the unbreakable lines of the bijou fairies tightened, creating a flower pattern before it all broke apart again.

As the fire engulfed him, finally giving rest to a soul that had been so tired for such a very along time, Justice Light cawed into the air.

System Message: The Bijou Trap has deactivated. All captured Bijou have been freed.  

System Message: The Demon Trap has deactivated. All captured evicted demons have been freed.

System Message: The Nothing has been broken.

System Message: The Nothing is currently draining into Sheol.

System Message: The Nothing is currently draining into The Halls of the Ascendency.

System Message: The Nothing is currently draining into Scolopendra’s Lair.

System Message: Scolopendra stirs.

Planetwide Message: It is advised all current guests at the Scolopendra Club evacuate immediately.

Planetwide Message: Oh, I’m sorry. There’s nowhere for you to go?

Planetwide Message: Be advised that the 16th Floor, supposedly entitled “Agony of Mirrors” is actually a giant, empty room with a single mirror in it: a non-magical mirror plucked from an abandoned Motel 6 location in Boise, Idaho. As this 16th floor is currently outside the Scolopendra layers, any guests who wish to evacuate the Scolopendra Club should immediately proceed to this location, where you will be safe from any impending attacks. Unfortunately, the 17th floor, called “The Backstage Death Maze” is currently built and running. You will have to proceed through this level should you want to get to the 16th.

Good luck.  

System Message: Scolopendra has awakened.

Epilogue.

York

My duty is done.

I have killed those I have been ordered to kill.

The blood on my mandibles will never wash away.

“No, no,” the tenodera said, crumpling the verse and tossing it into the recycler. It didn’t take an empath to know the poem sucked.

Homecoming Queen creaked and groaned from its spot in orbit. The ship felt haunted, and York, the sole, living creature left on board was the ship’s ghost. Some days, he’d turn off the artificial gravity and just float in the storage hold with his eyes closed and pretend he truly was noncorporeal.

He’d force himself to think in verse. He’d compose poems about better times. About peace spreading through the galaxy.

He’d compose three-beats about his hive, back before they were ripped away. Before the Syndicate came and killed them all. Sometimes, if the poems seemed like they’d probably be especially moving, he’d broadcast them over the open band. He’d do it until someone in authority ordered him to stop. And then after, he’d wait, and then he’d start broadcasting again. He’d done it so much, he knew he’d been blocked from the local feed by most the captains.

That was fine. Not everyone appreciated philosophical ponderings, especially when told in verse.

Or maybe they were just like him, he mused. Someone who once felt things, and now he simply couldn’t. Maybe everyone was faking it, putting on this big show of emotion, performing for a set of gods he was pretty certain didn’t exist.

Performing because they knew that’s what they were supposed to do. Because they knew if the others realized who they really were, how empty they were, that they’d be cast out and left with nowhere to go.    

He’d been fully expecting Homecoming Queen to have been shot at by now, but nobody had even attempted it. And while the Crest behemoths weren’t known for their defenses, this was the largest ship in orbit. It would take a lot of energy to knock it out of the sky.

 Homecoming Queen did have armament, however. A lot of it. Though that was a secret, and York had worked hard to keep it that way.

And not only was the ship well-armed, but it had a full complement of enhancement zone guns and beams. Highly regulated, high-energy weapons that would normally only work in the center system. Porthus had ordered them installed.

These weapons were now green across the board, making Homecoming Queen likely the strongest ship in orbit. Even the Syndicate security corvettes didn’t bother with the enhancement zone weapons. Why would they? They were expensive and took up space and absolutely couldn’t be used outside the center system.  

The small yacht he’d destroyed—the one filled with children, including the new king of the orcs—had been simply vaporized with an NPB, actually designed for point defense. He’d deployed it when everyone had started shooting at each other, and so far, everyone assumed the orcs had just been caught in the crossfire. The Homecoming Queen had appeared to flee the conflict with all the other transports.

I have killed children. Defenseless children who were not yet old enough to ever be responsible for their crimes.

Were they scared?

He kept trying to rearrange it in his mind, desperately attempting to frame it in a way where he felt something, anything about what he’d done.

York mourned his own emotion. Or better yet, his own lack of it.

It was such a strange sensation, to feel bad about not feeling anything.

Did the fact he even recognized this mean it was still there, somewhere deep down?

This was why he continued to write his poetry. There can be beauty in words, twisted just the right way. The correct verse could raise that which was lost.

I should write that down. It’s not that deep, I don’t think. But maybe I can massage it into something profound.  

His own crawl seemed like such a distant memory. His entire hive had entered the dungeon, and he recalled—vaguely recalled—the anger he’d felt at how they’d been picked off one by one. And not just at that, but at the realization that he’d never really fit in. And because of his own individuality, he never was part of a team, despite being part of a hive. And because he was all alone, his flailings against the bureaucratic, alien machines that had subjugated him and his hive were impotent.

The stronger he grew as a crawler, the weaker he felt. And the weaker he felt, the angrier he became.  

And then, somewhere around the 9th floor, a numbness spread. He knew this was something locked deep in his tenodera DNA. His warrior ancestors had been specifically bred to be without emotion. This was before they’d all become civilized, before all their wars were fought with tanks and bombs and drones, the military hardware substituting for the chemicals their queens of old would drill into their brains.

This lack of emotion would be required of any soldier whose duty it was to crack into an enemy hive and kill all the children within. 

Before they’d onboarded onto Faction Wars, leaving York all alone to watch over and fly the starship, Rosetta had point-blank asked York if he’d have the fortitude to complete this little side mission. To kill the orc yacht filled with children. They didn’t know the hollowness inside York. All they saw was the constant poetry, and as a result, they assumed he had grown weak.

He’d insisted he’d be able to do it. He was careful to make himself appear a little reticent. But the truth was, he’d looked forward to it. He wanted to be the one to press the button, to watch the small ship explode. He wanted to do it because he wanted to feel something afterward.

It hadn’t worked.    

The news feeds had mentioned the unfortunate death of the children, caught in the crossfire. But there was just so much more happening all at once that it barely registered a blip.

Was that it? That this wasn’t enough to break through the bindings that had grown around his heart like thorns?

The news was focused on much bigger stories. The new Prime Minister. The crash of the Dream cruiser onto the surface of Earth over the continent of Australia. The mass suicide of one of the Nebular colonies.

But mostly, at this moment, the talk was of the Mantis system that had simply gone boom.

This particular news actually filled York with a strange, empty sense of satisfaction. The larger mantids hated his race, the tenodera. They were similar, but York and his kind were much smaller physically. And not nearly as aggressive and violent. Most mantids openly spoke of exterminating him and his kind, as they could crossbreed, and they feared what would happen should the tenodera mix en masse.

“That’s what you deserved,” he muttered, trying the words out even though he didn’t really feel them. He re-watched the story of the destruction of Hive Re-Population Center 51, which was not even close to the original mantis system. It was the least populated and newest of their multiple colonies. Still... stars didn’t usually just randomly go supernova without warning. People were starting to panic.  

A message came across his screen. You have soldiers to load. They have arrived at the onboarding facility. Docking procedures incoming.

The docking computer on the station fed the Homecoming Queen the proper vectors. The ship shuddered as the orbital positioning engines rumbled to life.

As they drifted toward the small facility, York took out his pen and wrote a new poem.

When they think it’s over.

When they think they are safe.

That’s when the hidden danger presents itself.   

“Hmm,” he said. He was pretty sure this poem was as terrible as they all were. Still, he stuck it up on the console. Why not? 

A direct message request came in.

York clicked the radio. “Boomer?”

The grizzled elf appeared on the screen. Even with the low-resolution display, York could see the elf had aged.

“Bring her in nice and easy, bug boy. Any trouble while we were away?”

“Not so much as a single missile shot at us,” York replied. “Embargo is still in effect, so we can’t leave yet.”

“Write any new poems?”

“Several.”

“Any good?”

This was an ongoing conversation between York and Boomer. The old elf seemed to think all poetry was without merit. Still, the ribbing was good-natured, and York pretended to enjoy it. He’d like to think it was something he really would enjoy, if things had turned out differently. He played along.

“All my poetry is good, Boomer.”

“Well, I have a poem for you, my mantis friend. It’s based on the style of a popular Earth poem.”

“I am not a mantis. But that is of interest to me. I have been reading of those as well and have been attempting different kinds. Is it a haiku? A sonnet? A limerick?”

Boomer grinned at him over the display. “Roses are red. Violets are blue. We won Faction Wars. Now we get to kill more of them.”

“That is a terrible poem, Boomer.”

“You have no sense of humor, my boy. Now hurry up and dock. Phase two is about to begin, and it’s about to get really, really bumpy. But the good news is, we made some friends down there, and this next part isn’t going to be nearly as difficult as we originally thought. Are the breaching suits ready?”

On the news feed screen, a Breaking News banner appeared, followed by the image of Porthus sitting behind a desk. York knew this video was actually shot a while ago because he’d been there when Rosetta directed it. But it was timed to be released just now. On the screen, Porthus was announcing the formation of a new militant group. He was warning that they would now be moving against all Syndicate governmental properties and systems across the known universe. The government had until the end of the current crawl to agree to their demands, which basically boiled down to, “stop the crawl or else.”

York clicked a button. “Not only are the breaching suits ready, Boomer. But the enhancement zone suits appear to be online and working, just like Porthus predicted. And the power armor is all online as well.”

“Fuck yeah,” Boomer said, popping a cigar into his mouth. “Set aside four of the Cronus suits and a landing skiff. We have a pregnant veteran on the surface who needs backup. And for the rest of us, it’s time to bring the war out of the dungeon. Better warm up the lasers.”

At that moment, York did, indeed, feel something. Finally, after all this time.

Class: Advocate.

Race: Tenodera.

Birth Race: Tenodera.

Top Level: 71

Dungeon Exit: Took deal at the end of the 10th floor.

Worked as a Game Guide and Guildhall Instructor in the Poetry guild. Exited the dungeon and spent the following years in self-reflection and contemplation.

Author of the Tenth Edition of the Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook.

Current status: Captain in the newly coined resistance organization, The Open Intellect Action Network.

~

Quest Complete: This is How the Gristle Grinds.

Entering the Outreach Guild.

“Hey pal,” Quasar said. “Been up to anything interesting recently?”

“Fuck,” I said, wheezing. We were in a zero zone. It was just a small cubicle. A table and two chairs, with me on one side and the flickering form of Quasar on the other. The room didn’t have any doors. A cloud of pixelated smoke hovered over Quasar’s head.

It was just me and him. The room was freezing cold.

I coughed. I was covered in ash and blood, and I couldn’t stop shaking.

It’s done. It’s done. We made it.

I closed my eyes, and I just sat there for a moment on the hard, plastic chair. My feet tingled with that waking-up-from-sleep pain. My entire body ached. The eye on my chest ached. I was especially aware of it in a zero zone with everything so heavy.

Quasar, to his credit, gave me a moment.

I opened my eyes to see the small alien man just sitting there. He was wearing a tie with Mongo on it. The dinosaur was constantly waving his little arms.

I grunted with amusement. I put my hand on the table, and it left a black mark.

“All right,” I finally said, closing my eyes again. “Let’s do this, Quasar.”

“Before we start, buddy boy, on behalf of the Syndicate Intergalactic Bar Association, I’d like to personally thank you. There being just about 20,000 crawlers making it to the 10th floor is quite the accomplishment. Lots of my colleagues getting work today, and some of them are pretty easy on the receptors, if you know what I’m saying. As soon as we’re done here, I’m going to make a line for the closest attorney bar and drink for free until I wake up in a gutter with at least three new venereal diseases.”

I laughed. It felt good to laugh. My eyes remained closed. I could sleep here if I had Donut with me. It felt as if I had a weighted blanket on me. “I’m glad to be of service, Quasar.”

He continued. “So, a few formalities. If these were normal circumstances, you’d be meeting me for the first time right now. And I’d probably be saying something like, ‘wake your monkey ass up, this is important as fuck.’”

“And I’d probably be saying, ‘go fuck yourself, Quasar. Don’t you hear it?’”

“Hear what?”

“The sound of nobody dying. The sound of nobody screaming. Just silence. I could live here, in this room.”

“Listen, Carl. You’re not going batty on me, are you? I get enough of that at home. I know what you’re going through, but I ain’t no head shrinker and I get squeamish around crazy, know what I’m saying?”

I opened my eyes. “Do you? Do you know what I’m going through?” 

He was silent for a long moment, which was unusual for the attorney.

“Of course not,” Quasar finally said. He patted a folder sitting in front of him. “We gotta go through this.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’m listening.”

He sighed. “As a ‘volunteered’ lawyer for this season, I’ve been tasked with negotiating exit deals with you and two other crawlers. You’re actually my third and final meeting for the day.”

“Anybody else take a deal?” I asked, interrupting. “And who were the other two?”

“Attorney client privilege, buddy. But yes, they both took deals. None of my other clients were anyone in your inner circle.”

“But there are deals being offered? I was kinda thinking they weren’t going to be offering anything.”

“You and me both, but the ol’ system is insisting that everything that happens in here needs to be as by the books as possible.”

“Okay,” I said. “So what are my deals?”

“They’re all shit,” Quasar said. “You’d be better off working as a scrub boy at a bathhouse in a dromedarian leprosy colony. Seriously. You’d think they’d offer the number one crawler some good shizz, but all of these except the last one are straight off the rack. Fifty seasons undead. Desperado Club bomber’s guild with a contingent exit clause that’s almost as bad as that clause your bizarre friend Milk had.” He threw the sheets of paper on the table. “If I wasn’t afraid the AI would turn my asshole into a new wildlife habitat, I’d tell them all to go fuck off. Still, this last one ain’t bad, but we can do better. Apparently, this is Chaco’s last season, and they need a replacement. It is being offered jointly to you and Donut both. You’d have to both agree separately, but they’re indicating this deal will still exist at the end of the 10th floor.”

I laughed. “Can you tell me what this next floor is?”

He nodded. “Actually, I can. If I tell you, however, it adds a full season to any deal you take now or at the end of the floor. But you just got a free one from some quest, so I guess it all evens out.”

“Okay. I consent. Whatever. What do we got?”

“I actually don’t know. Hang on. Those other two guys didn’t even ask.” He picked up a piece of paper.

“Okay. It only gives limited information. The floor is called Don’t Come in Last. You and your party leader are given an option to choose a matter of conveyance, either biological or mechanical. You will have to travel from point A to point B, and upon reaching point B, you will be given an upgrade option for your vehicle. You may only travel using the vehicle. You will have to make a fixed number of these journeys, and if you come in last place, the survival containment around your vehicle is removed. There will be multiple NPC teams, so you’re not necessarily competing directly against other crawlers. Which is good because this ain’t a goddamned Battle Royale season. There’s obviously more to it than that, but that’s all they’re giving.”

That’s just fucking peachy, I thought. Katia would have excelled at that.

The thought of her filled me with anxiety. How was she doing? Was she okay? It’d only been minutes, I knew. Would I ever see her again? Would I ever know?

I sighed. “My official answer is, fuck these options. I am not taking a deal.”

“I am shocked,” he said, writing something down.

There was an audible ping.

“I thought maybe you’d also rep Donut,” I said after a moment. “You’ve represented her before for some of the contract stuff.”

He shrugged. “I was hoping so. That’s why I wore this tie. I argued it, but they assigned her another lawyer. Her name is Princess Chandra, Esquire. Apparently her and Donut already had their meeting, and now that you’ve officially declined your offers I can tell you she declined as well. I am hearing there were some serious fireworks during their meeting. And not the good kind. We need to have a serious talk about her. Donut’s lawyer, I mean.”

I grunted. “Why? Is she another catgirl?”

“No. Worse, buddy. She’s your wife.”   

~

Squirties waystation and refueling platform. Located just outside the main tunnel access route entrance to the Earth system.

Zander sighed. The saccathian let out a stream of air through his tentacles. He started to pull the line of Veriluxx Real Pet Companion toys off the shelf. The Donut and Mongo ones still occasionally sold, but all these others were crap. He had a whole line of Gimli and Geraldo and Skyler Spinach toys that nobody gave a shit about, even when he did have customers. Plus the toys took up a lot of space.

Even the new Princess Palette makeup kits sold by the Donut Holes group that were taking the galaxy by storm weren't selling here.

He paused at the Uzi Jesus toy. He kinda liked this one. He tapped it, and it came to life. “Hello. I am Uzi Jesus. You look quite upset. What’s the problem, son?”

“I’m ruined,” Zander said to the large action figure. “I paid my life savings to lease this spot, and now that there’s an embargo, nobody is going through the tunnel gate. I haven’t had a refueling customer in days. Not even reporters anymore. And with the threat of war and what happened with the Mantis system and everything else, nobody is even approaching the area. They’re terrified, and I have a 25,000 credit a month lease I can’t pay.”

“Dude, that fucking sucks,” Robot Uzi Jesus said.

“Yeah,” Zander said. “It really does.”

He pointed a gun at Zander’s shirt. “Are you sure it’s not because this waystation has the stupidest name I’ve ever heard?”  

Zander looked down at his uniform. It was a shirt with the Squirties logo on it, which was just his smiling face with all the different types of fuel squirting from his tentacles, each one represented by a different color. Some were gaseous, some were solid, and none of the colors were right, but it was just a cartoon. His mother had designed it. “Waystations always have funny names and logos.”

“It’s nasty, dude. Look, at least you’re not trapped on the other side.”

“That’s true, I guess.” He’d just seen on the news where they were all shooting at each other. Again. The Dream cruiser had crash landed on the planet. A bunch of other ships had crashed as well, and now with that whole thing with the fringe former crawler group mouthing off, there would probably be more shooting soon. He’d seen war before, and it was terrible for business. At least his kind of business. War fleets didn’t buy fuel. They took it.

“Maybe the embargo will get lifted,” Zander said hopefully. “Maybe they’ll all come through here and buy gas again.”  

“Maybe, but you’re probably fucked,” Robot Uzi Jesus said. He scratched himself in the head with his plastic gun. It went off with a pop and he put his hand to his temple. “Dad damnit!” His head turned. “Veriluxx Real Pet Companions does not endorse blasphemy.”

When the action figure moved, he knocked the Raul the cab action figure, who said, “Hello, fine warrior! I am Raul.”

“I’m going to get indentured,” Zander said miserably.

“Do not kowtow. Never kowtow!” Raul called.

“I got it! You could start a church!” Robot Uzi Jesus announced. “You’d be ballin’ if you did it right.”     

“What is this?” a new voice asked. She reached over Zander’s shoulder and picked up the Uzi Jesus toy. Is this an icon of the Earth deity?”

“Don’t look at my dick, lady!” the toy announced. 

Zander turned, surprised. He hadn’t received notice anyone had docked. He... he recognized her. She was a tall, elf-like woman with a long neck and naga-like eyes. Strange.

Still, this was a customer. He straightened. “Welcome to Squirties! That’s a fantastic costume. Or is it surgery? ... Oh,” he said, suddenly remembering what had happened. “Are you a fan of Nami? Shame what happened to her. Have you come to the gate to pay your respects?”  

“Costume?” the woman asked, holding out her arms. “Are you asking Eris, goddess of chaos if she’s wearing a costume?”

“Uh,” Zander said. “Yes?”

She burst into laughter. “I’ll show you a costume.” She snapped her fingers, and all the tentacles on Zander’s face turned rigid. Each one started spewing a different liquid.

Some of that liquid burned.    

“Holy shit,” Robot Uzi Jesus said.

The End.

~~~~~~~~~~

And that's it.... I will have a much bigger post about what's going on next, but that's coming later. I am currently exhausted. TLDR: I will be moving straight to book 8.

I'm thinking we open with the scene of Donut meeting Chandra, Carl's new wife.

I will be posting the edited version of book 7 for you to DL soon.

Thank you all so very, very much for all the support these past few months. These past few weeks, especially have been difficult. My best friend, Freddie the labrador left us a week ago, and this book, this series, and YOU GUYS were what kept me sane.

Seattle! TOMORROW NIGHT. Barnes and Noble at SouthCenter. https://stores.barnesandnoble.com/event/9780062175357-0