Book 8, Chapters 72, 73, and 74 + A Parade of Horribles book cover sneak peak. (Patreon)

Hey again guys. Thanks for your continued support. We're gonna try this again. I'm not supposed to reveal this yet, but since it's like 3/4s out there already, here it is. The final version might change slightly. This cover is for paid Patrons only, and I AM ASKING YOU NOT TO SHARE IT yet. Last time, for This Inevitable Ruin, the cover was everywhere within twenty minutes of me posting it, despite requesting you keep it under wraps for a few more days. As a result, that version still shows up today in searches despite the final version being slightly tweaked. THIS is the same. The typography will be tweaked before we're done, but I promised y'all I'd post this with this update, so here we are.

AGAIN DON'T FLIPPIN' SHARE THIS YET. IT'S NOT DONE. DON'T MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE.

This is the ebook version, which will pop up for preorder in a few days.

If this isn't all over the internet this time tomorrow, I'll share the audible version which I think came out pretty snazzy. I'm also going to ask Luciano to give Lucia her skull face for the paperback version, I think.

You just shared it, didn't you? BAD!

onto the chapters!

Chapter 72

“I’m sorry if I was ever a jerk to you,” Donut said to Ezra the cleaner bot before we headed outside. “I don’t know if this is truly goodbye, but if I do see you sometime in the future, I want you to know I’ll never make you clean up Mongo mess ever again.”

The cleaner bot gave an indignant beep.

“Okay, come on,” Mordecai said, grabbing the bot out of the air. He reached over to shut it off. He would take it over to Imani and Elle’s place where the others would gather after the short, quick goodbye party. All 200 crawlers for the Pineapple Cabaret transfer along with several more of their friends were gathered together in the main square in Hungry Eyes. There were too many of them to fit in the guild common room, so we’d have a quick goodbye there. And then we had to do our race.

Mordecai paused, looking at the both of us. “Be careful out there.”

“I’m not too worried about this part,” I said, shrugging. “It’s what comes after.”

I stopped in the garage to give a quick word to Bucket Boy, who sat sullenly in the corner, watching Hedy work on the last-minute fixes. Pontiff the bull-headed taurin was here, talking quietly with him. Rosetta and Tipid had hired the former stripper, and he’d be our driver for the next race.

“Believe me, kid,” Pontiff was saying. “I would take it all back if I could. But I can’t, so all I can do is make amends moving forward.”

“I don’t even care anymore,” the young crocodilian said. “Everyone dies in this place.”

“Dong and Corcunda are dead, yes. But the others are in the club. After this race, we can go looking for them if you want. I think I know where they might be hiding.”

“It says they’re not on the floor anymore.”

“Don’t worry about that. The Desperado Club is older than you might think. It has secrets upon secrets built in, even after the recent remodel. Hamed may be the boss now, but he was a wall rat just like me for a while. And wall rats always hide in the same place.”

“Wall rat?” Bucket Boy asked.

Pontiff finally noticed me watching. He abruptly stopped talking. “Carl,” he said, nodding.

I regarded the mercenary for a moment. “We’ll be back,” I finally said, leaving them alone. 

Donut remained on my shoulder, her head pressed firmly against mine as we walked outside.

“His whole family is dead or missing,” Donut finally said. “I can’t even begin to imagine how awful that must be.”  

“I know.”

We continued in silence for a few moments, heading toward the archway into Hungry Eyes Village.

“Carl, is this truly the only way?” she asked softly.

“I think so,” I said, reaching up to pat her. “We’re all dying, Donut. It has to stop. All of these floors are taking away our ability to fight back. I can’t do it anymore. Aren’t you tired of it?”

“Of course I’m tired, but I am alive, and I’m with you.”

“This is what we need to do to survive. What I need to do. The Emberus quest to kill Hellik is due.”  

“But Mordecai says even if we do succeed, it might backfire. He said it’s just like that one crawler from a long time ago. What was his name?”

“Drakea.”

“Yeah, that guy. He had this whole setup to do the same thing as you, and the Nagas cheated to make it backfire. Nothing changed, and he died. It was all for nothing.”

“That might happen, yes. But this time the showrunners aren’t in control anymore. As crazy as the AI is, he’s still following the rules.”

“You could just worship the goddess. She’s promised to fix it if you do.”

I didn’t answer.

Eris didn’t want me to “worship” her. She wanted true devotion. That path was a trap.

But she did have the right idea.

Jasha and Radoslav remained in their usual spot in front of their garage. They did not wave, and I did not wave back. We all knew what had to happen next.

I felt a chill, looking at them. I had been afraid that the dungeon wouldn’t have allowed me to use my Oozy Form spell in the cul-de-sac, but it had let me. I almost wished it hadn’t. 

Fuck everything about this place.

“And we still need to get through this floor first,” I added.

We were interrupted by messages.

Imani: Florin, what did Britney say?

Florin: She says she wouldn’t be caught dead attempting the cabaret, especially after what Carl told us about the AI warning. She’s making noises about taking a deal, but that will leave Louis by himself if Bautista goes. So I don’t think she’s going to do it.

We’d been worried the Britney would throw her hat into the ring to be considered as a volunteer as one of the 200 to go to the Pineapple Cabaret. We were trying to avoid all deity involvement, and we still didn’t know what was going on with her and that pickaxe, and we didn’t have time to figure it out in the next hour.

Imani: Wait, Daniel is going? I thought we weren’t allowing non-humans.

Florin: We decided to let the animal forms go as Mordecai believes it’ll be fine. I ain’t going nowhere, but Bautista asked Louis and Britney if they would consent to him leaving, and they said yes. So is Tran with his mechanical spider legs. Zhang is going, too. Archie is going. All the guys from the 101st who wanted to go who qualify are going as long as it’s the whole crew. We’re doing our best to keep from screwing people who are staying.

I gave a quick glance at Osvaldo’s garage with the number two. It remained closed. He couldn’t go to the cabaret because he worshiped a god. Hopefully he would take a deal at the end of this next race so we didn’t have to face him, but he hadn’t let his intentions known despite me sending him several messages.

One race at a time.

As for Dwight and Team Free Love, I wasn’t sure how we were going to deal with that. With Lucienne dead, Dwight couldn’t drive for heat six, and I had no idea if the idiot unicorn had the wherewithal to hire a mercenary. This one might be pre-determined before we even started. If Dwight didn’t hire a mercenary, they’d let him drive to the starting line, but he wouldn’t be allowed to drive after that. That was the best solution, but it also meant we’d have to face Team Free Love and Osvaldo for the final race.

Entering Hungry Eyes Village.

The large group stood around in the main entrance square, all looking about nervously. People were quietly talking, hugging one another, preparing to leave. There had to be 500 people here. Only 200 were leaving. It did not have a party atmosphere. This felt more like a gathering after a funeral service.

The boombox from the guild was out here, and it was sitting open with a cassette sitting inside, but it wasn’t playing.

Still, there were people occasionally smiling, laughing.

I remembered that feeling just a few short days ago at the end of Faction Wars, with the people throwing the flowers down on us, cheering. These people here were those who had dared to stay, dared to fight on, doing our best to just make it one more day.

Nobody knew if this was truly goodbye. Nobody knew which side, those going or those staying were the ones in more danger.   

Someone had set up a table, and Louis was handing out cookies. Bautista stood next to him with several clay teapots on a row.

Linus was there, pouring tea into the cup of a waiting woman Berserker named Jacinda Reynolds. The British woman had been considered a beast on the northern front during faction wars. She drank the tea down and let out a loud, satisfied sigh. “Another,” she said.

Linus, beaming, poured more into her cup.  “I like the way your boobs bounce when you drink.”

“Linus!” Elle snapped from somewhere unseen. 

“Carl,” Bautista said, bowing. “I think this is goodbye. For now.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, lowering my voice. “You know the risk, right?”

Bautista gave me a sly smile. 

“Compared to what? Staying with you? I will take my chances.” He paused. “Perhaps we will get out. I was speaking with a group of others who wish to get to India. If I can, I will go with them.”

Louis had cookie all over his face, and he grinned big. “Yeah, you can go check up on my kid.”

From my shoulder, Donut sucked in a breath.

Carl: That was probably the wrong thing to say.

Louis: My bad.

Bautista just looked at Louis for a long, awkward moment before the tiger broke out in a grin. He gave Louis a heavy pat on the arm. He nodded. “Yes, my brother. Before I go check on the child you’re having with my girlfriend.” 

Imani was suddenly next to us. She and Chris stood side by side, and she leaned up against him, despite the heat. Her skin crackled red, and I realized she either had a skill or a charm or an item that was protecting her from his presence. That was new. He had his massive hand on her shoulder.

“I am going to miss your tea,” Imani said.

“It’s good,” Chris added.

Prepotente was also suddenly here, as was Florin. Tran and Zhang also approached.

“Generals,” I said to Tran and Zhang.

Zhang scoffed. “You only made me Colonel.”

I grinned. “Be safe.”

I turned to Tran and grinned. “I see you’re wearing a red shirt now.”

The man with the mechanical spider legs held out his arms. “How do you like it?”

Donut jumped to Zhang’s shoulder and headbutted him. She repeated the process with Tran. 

Prepotente appeared, getting tea from Linus. He started loudly and obnoxiously announcing how delicious it was. He demanded Linus give him a blow-by-blow on the recipe.

Daniel bowed again. “It has been a pleasure serving you, Miss Imani and Chris.” He paused. “And the rest of you as well. My family, we always thought that serving friends was a very special, holy thing. By honoring our friends and our community, we were honoring God. I used to worry that I wouldn’t find my home when this was all done, but I have found peace, despite all that has happened, despite some of the regrettable choices I have made. It will be my honor to serve you at least one more time, and no matter what comes after today, I know I will be recognized on the other side.” 

“Let me get you all cups,” Linus said, disengaging himself from Prepotente. “Imani and Louis, I know you both like it really hot, so I have this one ready for you.”

“You’re being particularly nice,” Elle said, flying up, peering suspiciously at Linus. “Why are you being all normal all of a sudden? Did you poison their tea because you’re jealous or something?”

Linus gave a nervous laugh.  

Bautista held up a hand. “I will serve my friends.” He picked up a kettle he had set aside and poured it into several cups. He lowered his voice. “This is my breakfast blend. The same tea I served in the guild. But it is infused with the tea leaves I found from a vendor around the corner. It will give your vehicle or mount a 25% constitution buff. It would honor me if you shared it with me. I prepared this one myself.”

“You have enough for everybody?” Imani asked.

He nodded. “I made enough. The Bautista House of Tea will always serve. I have a different blend for those going to the Pineapple Cabaret. It grants a Constitution buff. I’ll put that out in a minute. But for now, please allow me to serve you.”

He pulled some cups from his inventory and poured the breakfast tea, handing it to us in turn.

I grabbed the cup. The tea smelled rich and warm with a slight floral scent. It briefly reminded me of a different time, of all of us sitting around the table in the guildhall, sharing breakfast before we left to battle for the day.

Unlike before, the system labeled it as a potion, meaning those of us with longer potion countdowns had to be careful. I didn’t bother saying anything, however. We were all veterans at this point, and we knew what we were doing.

It would be offensive at this point to assume anything otherwise.  

Chapter 73

Carl: Are we doing this now? Elle, you ready?

Elle: Might as well get it over with. I’m ready.    

Carl: You sure you don’t want to do all the talking? It’s not too late. Donut? You’re the one who figured this out.

Donut: IT WASN’T ME. IT WAS THE PRINCESS POSSE MESSAGE BOARD.

Elle: Look, Carl. You’re the one that’s going to be leading all of us to our deaths. You’ve been the face of all this. Can’t change that now. I’ll pipe up when it’s time.  

Carl: Okay. Here we go.

I turned to the crowd. Only a few had tea cups. Most held bottled beers.

“Crawlers,” I called, my voice deep and booming.

The quiet chatter all calmed down, and hundreds of eyes turned to me. “Those of you, attempting this escape, I salute you,” I called out, raising my cup. “Those of you staying, but planning to take a deal after the next heat, I salute you. Those of you who are hoping to make it to the parade, I salute you.”

My friends started to spread out into the crowd and turned to face me, raising their cups.

Donut jumped to the table where Bautista poured her a bowl.

I lowered the tea and cupped it in my hand. I was comforted by the warmth.

“Man, this floor,” I said, shaking my head. “They keep trying to kill us, trying to make us turn on one another. And it worked for a while. We stopped doing it naturally, so now they’re forcing situations where we have to do it if we want to survive. We aren’t perfect. We fight. We do hurt each other sometimes. This last heat, heat 7, it will be three teams and only one survives. And for some of us, there’s no avoiding the inevitable. Some of us will fall. But you know what? I am proud of how far we’ve all come. We are doing our best with the hand we’ve been dealt. And we don’t know what sort of twist they’re going to throw at us at the end. Nothing about this is easy, or clean. But everyone here, each and every one of you, no matter what happens next. I consider you my brothers and sisters. My family. And I just wanted to get that out. I am proud to have survived alongside all of you.”

I turned and looked at the shining, tired, weary eyes of the survivors. My people.

“Before we say goodbye, before some of you go off to try to escape, and some of you go off on your final race before you take a deal, we have one last piece of business as a group, as a family. We need to send out a message to the universe. Elle.”

Elle flitted up next to me. “Hi guys. I’m not much for speeches. But I wanted to say a little bit about my late husband, Barry. His name was Bartholomew Eli McGibbons, and for 43 years, he was my husband.” She reached up to finger the wedding ring she wore around her neck, hanging by a chain. “This was his favorite song. I think it’s appropriate for this moment.”

Louis reached over and hit play on the boombox.

Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Have You Ever Seen the Rain?” started to play.

She spoke over the music. “He wasn’t the smartest man I ever met. Or the most handsome. But he was mine, and I was his, and I loved him more than life itself.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t have survived five minutes in this place, and every time I think that, it just makes me miss him more.”  

She paused. Everyone here knew what this was about. They knew because we’d briefed them all.

“He died a long time ago. It’s been 35 years. That’s a long time to be alone.” She shook her head.

“The reason I’m telling you this now is because I have a family again. And not only a family, but a fan club. Who would’ve thought little ol’ me would have so many perverts lusting after her again? I mean, don’t get me wrong, every one of those degenerates in Elle’s Snow Cones really need their heads checked. But those guys, the Snow Cones, they formed a community of their own. They are very tight knit.” She turned to Linus, and she started floating toward him. “So tight knit, in fact, that they knew an impostor the moment he stepped into the dungeon.”

A look of panic washed over Linus. “What’re you talking about?”

Elle gave a bitter laugh. “You guys keep trying to come in here and kill us. But you just don’t understand. This is our house now.”  

“Wait,” Linus said, stepping back. His barely corporeal form backed into me. I put my hand on his shoulder, careful not to squeeze too tight.   

“The real Linus,” Elle continued, “recently posted an essay on a private server he shared with some very close friends. Those same friends just posted it on the Princess Posse server. I’m guessing you haven’t seen it. But this is a quote from it. He wrote, ‘I don’t think I ever really thought of them as real people until I understood how much they loved each other. It was like a lightning bolt right to the receptors. What are we doing? They’re just like us. It makes me realize how much I miss my own family. Especially my big brother. I miss him so much.’”

Donut: THE FULL QUOTE FROM THE REAL LINUS ALSO HAD A WHOLE PARAGRAPH OF FAN FICTION ABOUT HOW HE WISHED ELLE WOULD IMPREGNATE HIM WITH HUMAN-HEADED ALIEN BABIES. HE DREW A PICTURE.

Carl: Not right now, Donut.

“Fuck,” Linus said, sagging under my grip. It was over, and he knew it. “Did he really write that?”

“He did,” Elle said.

“Fuck,” Linus said again. “Fuck. He never wrote me.”

Donut gasped. “So you are the brother! That was the big theory, but nobody knew for sure. Some people thought you were actually a Valtay agent, but WriggleInDew2023, who is the vice president of the Team Mongo Mommies Valtay chapter and a street team member of the Snow Cones said there was no way. She’ll be very happy to learn she was correct. What happened to your brother? His friends are really concerned.”

Linus just lowered his head, and he started to sob.

Donut gasped again. “You killed him? You killed your own brother to get to Elle!”

“It wasn’t me,” Linus said. “They just brought me in after he was already dead.”

“He did write you,” Elle said. “At least he said he did. He posted the letter in the chat, had his friends offer him tips. Your mom sounds like a real peach.”

“How did you not know how your own brother acted?” Donut demanded. “If I was in Carl’s body, nobody would ever know. It’s not hard. I would just act all broody and punch everything. You screwed this up so bad half the alien internet figured it out five minutes after you arrived. You leaned too hard into the sex stuff, I think. You should know internet perverts rarely say that stuff out loud. His friends were all appalled. And then one noticed your tattoo was wrong. My goodness. You could’ve at least taken acting lessons first. You’re worse than Prepotente. No offense. And to make matters worse, you don’t even know the first thing about how the dungeon works. Honestly, it’s quite insulting.”

“My acting is top notch!” Prepotente objected. He turned to Louis. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” Louis said.

Linus sagged even further. “I never really watched the show. Just the news about it. There wasn’t time to prepare. Can you... Can you send the letter he wrote to me?”

Elle patted him on the opposite shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. From what we hear, it’s all over the tunnels. Up until this moment, the only person in the galaxy who didn’t know you were outed as a spy is you. Also, just so you know, you pretending to accidently drop the poison in the tea wouldn’t have worked anyway. You don’t understand how our healers work. Everyone who drank your tea has an immunity. For most of us, those teapots are flashing red.” She shook her head. “Goddamned amateur.”   

I let out a laugh. “That’s how we know you’re not talking to anybody on the outside. I imagine your commanding officer has been going crazy watching you make mistake after mistake. We’ve been waiting for you to make a move for a few days now.”  

“Who was your target? Carl? Donut?” Imani demanded.

Linus laughed bitterly. His mannerisms were completely different now. Despite what Donut said, he really had been a fantastic actor. I had been fooled, at least.

The soother looked up, eyes wet. “Carl? Are you kidding? I may not have watched the show, but even I know he’s the last person they want taken out. He’s the best chance we got to survive this because he’s the one most likely to get everyone killed. They thought losing the cat would make him too volatile, too unpredictable, and probably get him killed too fast, so she wasn’t the target, either. No, Imani. The target was you. And my secondary target was pork chop over there.” He thumbed over his shoulder at Louis.

“Me?” Louis asked, incredulous. “What did I do?”  

I squeezed my hand a little tighter, and I felt the softness. If he ran, he’d physically slip through my fingers.

“You can’t hurt me,” Linus, or whatever his real name was, said, his voice quavering. “I was just following orders.”  

“No,” I agreed, leaning in. “I can’t hurt you. But I think you might’ve missed the point of what Elle was trying to say. What we’ve been saying this whole time. You keep trying to divide us. Don’t you realize what you’ve created? We have been tempered in the fires of hell, and we are now past the point of being broken. Your downfall has already been written on the stars. You may hurt us. You may kill us all. But it’s not going to matter. Don’t you realize? Don’t you realize?”

My hand squeezed so tight it popped through the illusion of his skin. It didn’t hurt him, but it now appeared as if my fist was inside his neck.

I leaned in close to his ear. “Don’t you realize what you’ve done? What you’ve made? You and everyone who put us here has already lost. All that’s left is for the wreckage to settle in place.”

The alien, shivering, swallowed. He didn’t respond. He knew what was about to happen next.  

He knew he was about to leave the dungeon. He knew he would go back to his small, defenseless spaceship. The same spaceship that was currently trapped in orbit over Earth. He knew a few friends of ours would be waiting for him upon exit.

Elle sighed, wiping her eyes. “My Barry really did love that song.”

Chapter 74

Imani: It went smoothly. Your cleaner bot could only fit 40 people, but the one from Bobby Montague, the Illusionist guy with the tall hair, managed to fit 105. The total number sent to the Pineapple Cabaret is 227 not including Na. Zhang, Tran, Daniel, Archie, Randall 3. All gone. All cleaner bots were purchased immediately.

Mordecai: Cactus remains steady, glowing with a single bloom. Also, that one druid, Ronit, managed to figure out an improvement on the dread system. She assigned everyone a small plant. I had to build a large, glass terrarium for them all because some of the sluggalos were starting to eye them. It’s 200-something different, small, potted plants, each tied to the life of a different crawler. The plants are now on display in the guildhall common room, protected under glass.

Donut: WE’RE CALLING IT THE GARDEN OF DELIVERANCE. 

Mordecai: That’s right. Li Na’s dread cactus is the only one with the complicated messaging system. These are much more simple. If the plants wilt or disappear into dust, it means the associated crawler is dead. If flowers bloom, it means they’re out of the dungeon. It means they escaped. It’s the only way we’ll know. Even the showrunners can’t see what’s going on in there.

Elle: That’s not anxiety inducing or anything. Everyone be safe.    

Carl: Okay. See you at the finish line.

Imani: Don’t you dare die this heat. All of it will be for nothing if you don’t make it through this next race.

We pulled up to the starting line. Pontiff sat in the driver’s seat, Donut sat upon Dorota, and I sat just between them and behind in one of the chairs we’d used for the last race. It still had blood stains all over it, and the smell reminded me of Dong Quixote.

I took a deep breath and just let myself be for a second. I hadn’t meant for the confrontation of Linus to have gotten so intense. Everyone thought the whole thing was a big joke, but I’d been rattled by it because I’d been one of the last ones to notice there was something fishy about the guy, especially when I prided myself in being so self-aware.

If he could slip in, who else, what else was out there, waiting to pounce? Not every outside attempt on our lives would be so clumsy. The AI had stopped Harbinger in his tracks. It hadn’t even bothered with the Linus thing because we clearly knew. But what about other threats on top of the dungeon challenges itself?

Despite what I’d said, we still had some internal crawler strife. Osvaldo was a good example. And what about Agatha? I hoped she was dead, but she’d pretty much just disappeared. And her existence, just out there somewhere, made me ridiculously nervous.

We had one more mercenary in the back, sitting on the second chair. This was a rare Zebani, a blue-skinned humanoid. This was a woman named Nester, and she was a level-65 Cartographer. We’d picked her because she came with both gravity spells and a radar skill.

Her existence reminded me of something I couldn’t get out of my mind. That crawler, the now-dead Burcu, had accused me of killing her father. I was assuming her dad had been a crawler named Emir, who was also a Zebani.

Just another mystery, a reminder of how fractured we still were, despite our best efforts.  

We were all lined up side-by-side, with us in the first block. Osvaldo and Felipe pulled up next to us astride Bruna. Whatever upgrade they’d gotten this last race, it wasn’t obvious. Osvaldo still hadn’t responded to my last message about his plans. Just past him was team Free Love’s van, and after that was Dwight, who sat alone in his vine.

“Carl, the stupid unicorn has a debuff,” Donut said. “He’s drunk again! How did he even get to the starting line? What is his plan? He’s not going to be allowed to drive!”

I grunted with amusement. “Good. Let him stay on the starting line.”

“That’s what he did last time, and look what happened!”

“What happened?” Pontiff asked from the driver’s seat. His massive horns, thankfully, curved forward somewhat, but even with the seat all the way back, they still pressed against the windshield. After one bump, he was going to shatter the glass. And as it was, he couldn’t see with the tommy gun. I had it set up to get blown off again, but this time I was using slightly more powerful explosives.

“He cheated, that’s what happened,” Donut said. “He skipped the whole race and went to the finish line on the outside.” 

“Clever,” Pontiff rumbled. “If he was clever before, he will be clever again. Maybe.”

“Where are we anyway?” Donut asked, looking about. “It looks like we’re inside a 1950’s version of the future. Why is everything chrome and shiny? The floor is bouncy, too.”

The starting blocks appeared to be some sort of thin, metallic material. We’d driven out the garage, turned the corner, and now we were in a huge, dark box with a light ahead of us.

It was Louis who figured out what this actually was.

Louis: Anybody else’s starting block inside of a giant AC duct?

Prepotente: The message warned that we would be shrunken down. I, too, am inside a duct.

Florin: We’re in what appears to be a sewer pipe of some sort. It is very tight in here. We’re lined up one by one.  

Louis: It’s just like Ant Man!  

Prepotente: The real question is how physics will act. Will we react like we’re small, or is everything going to act like it’s very big. My mass feels like normal, so I suspect the latter. So be careful with falls.

Louis: I think we’re like the size of a lego.

Prepotente: The width of a standard LEGO® brick is 7.8 millimeters. I would guess we’re slightly larger, but that’s a very good estimate.

Louis: How did you type the registered mark thing?

Donut: AND WHY?

Elle: I think we’re inside of a goddamned waterless shitter lined up like turds. We can kinda see the room above us. Whomever lives here really likes pink. We gotta get out of here straight from the get-go.

Prepotente: I am also in a very pink place.

Donut: OUR ROOM DOESN’T LOOK PINK FROM HERE, BUT IT’S HARD TO TELL.

Prepotente: If this is all heats at once, it’s likely we will be in multiple apartments.

There was a flash, and a small, holographic figure appeared on the dash, sitting with her legs dangling over the edge. The tiny hologram was a familiar human woman wearing a pantsuit with large, red glasses. When she spoke, the words still appeared like a system notification.

This was Dr. Metcalf. They’d made her to look just like Bea’s therapist. The resemblance was eerie, all the way down to the red glasses.  

New details are now available. We’re on the 7th floor of the L’Engle Building, apartment 712. The finish line is the lobby. There are no designated tracks. There are a few paths to the next floor down. The fastest appears to be the elevator shaft, but the elevator says it’s out of order and stuck between the fifth and six floor. There’s also the stairwell, the sewer pipes, and a lot of paths inside the walls.

“What about mobs?” I asked the hologram who disappeared and then reappeared on my shoulder.

Your freezer is running too cold. Also, I don’t have any information on any mobs or potential quests. The new diagnostics and software to run the holograms actually makes my processing slower than before.

“I don’t like the way she’s looking at me,” Dorota said, tightening the straps around Donut.

Our fan-voted upgrade was a GPS “improvement.” But it was mostly an aesthetic one. The unit was not upgraded in any real way other than the addition of the hologram and the ability for the unit to interface with diagnostic reports on various “non-essential” systems of the truck, such as the kitchen and air conditioning. It was a complete waste of a prize.

Donut: CARL THAT’S HER! I KNEW IT! I’D RECOGNIZE THOSE GLASSES ANYWHERE. IT REALLY IS MISS BEATRICE’S THERAPIST!

Carl: How do you even know what she looks like?

Donut: MISS BEATRICE BROUGHT ME TO A SESSION ONCE SO THEY COULD PUT ME IN A CLEANSING CRYSTAL CIRCLE. IT WAS BEFORE THE PUSSY WILLOW CAT CLUB REGIONAL QUALIFIER IN PORTLAND.

Carl: What? She took you to her therapist’s office? Bea never told me that.

Donut: SHE USED YOUR CREDIT CARD TO PAY THE EXTRA CHAKRA FEE. AND THE CRYSTAL CLEANSING RITUAL FEE. IT WAS LIKE $800. REALLY, CARL. YOU SHOULD’VE PAID BETTER ATTENTION TO YOUR FINANCES. AND ME. I SMELLED LIKE FRAKENCENSE FOR A MONTH AFTERWARD, AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE.  

Carl: That is absolutely not true. I would’ve noticed an $800 charge to Bea’s therapist on my... You know what, it doesn’t matter. Nothing has changed other than some damage control monitoring or something. It’s just an aesthetic thing, not a real upgrade.

The hologram turned to a giant, human-sized head, Samantha style, floating over the dash. We all jumped. Pontiff let out a surprised grunt, and blue-skinned Nester muttered “what the hells?”

I see your eyes flashing. You’re talking about me, aren’t you? I can talk about you, too. How’d you like that?

“Do not worry, Princess,” Dorota said. “I’ll protect you from the obviously senile...” Dorota’s voice abruptly cut off. The straps around Donut loosened.

“Hey!” Donut said. “What happened? Dorota is broken!”

Dr. Metcalf disappeared and reappeared, back to the small hologram.

I just initiated Dorota’s diagnostics mode. I think she might be defective. I fear she’ll be out of commission for a few hours.

“Goddamnit,” I said. “Look, I’m sorry we didn’t upgrade you properly. We were lucky to have survived last race at all. I know the chair is annoying. But can you please turn it on? The seatbelt feature is important.”

Fine. But I’m keeping her ability to speak turned off.

“You can do that?” I asked. Maybe it wasn’t such a useless upgrade after all.  

Osvaldo: We’re going to try to drop down the elevator shaft. We’ll need someone to get through the door and then drop through the elevator. You got that Hole spell, right? Couple other friends are meeting in the hallway. You in?

Carl: Maybe. We’re still trying to figure out the best path. Look, man, have you seen my previous messages?

Osvaldo: Yeah, I saw ‘em. You and me, we’re working together, but we ain’t friends. My game guide told me not to ever bother taking a deal on the 10th floor, no matter what. It’s better to die. And everything I’ve heard and seen backs that shit up. Felipe and I will take our chances.

I exchanged a look with Donut. The elevator shaft seemed like an obvious trap. But we wouldn’t know until we had a better handle on the track.

Donut: YOU’RE BEING STUPID. YOU WILL DIE IF YOU GO TO THE 7th HEAT.

Osvaldo: Only if I come in last place. 

“You goddamn, bull-headed idiot,” I muttered.

“Hey,” Pontiff said.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“What’re we going to do?” Donut asked.

“Let’s get through this one, and we’ll lean on him to take a deal when this is over.”

I turned in the seat, addressing Nester. “Okay. Here’s the plan. The second we’re in the room, do your thing. Any sort of empty space, just call it out. Got it?”

The woman nodded. She would use her radar skill to search for hidden passages, conduits, and so forth in the walls, and more importantly, on the floor.

I triple checked my inventory. I had the sticky explosives stacked and properly labeled so I wouldn’t have to think about where I’d left them.

Dr. Metcalf reappeared.

A last-minute rule has just been announced. There are seven floors in this building. Every apartment has a ring somewhere in the apartment. You must drive through seven rings, one on each floor, before you are allowed to pass the finish line. Each team is given one ring that is mandatory, and it is now on your map.

Your designated ring is within apartment 231 on the second floor.   

“Damn it,” I said. We should have seen that coming. There went everyone’s plans, including my own to find the electrical conduit system to just drop to the ground floor.

Osvaldo: Is your mandatory ring on the fourth floor?

Carl: No, second.  

Osvaldo: Okay. That means we’re all given different ones.

“Okay. Shields up. Get ready,” Pontiff said as the starting lights appeared.