Chapter 112 (Patreon)

It didn’t take long to build the rickety, compartmental vehicle. Thanks to the engineering and metalworking benches, I could fabricate anything I needed in minutes. The second-level engineering table was great for complicated designs that required multiple objects put together, like the front suspension system and drive shaft. The level two metalworking table allowed me to view the tensile strength and load limits, and the interface had more shaping options. Mordecai said once we got that table up to level three, we would be able to melt down some of the less valuable items we came across and reforge them into stronger, more dense alloys, which would allow me to make precise explosive spheres instead of relying on expensive hob lobbers.

Katia and I worked on the first part of the design while Donut and Mordecai went shopping. But before they left, Donut took one looked at the vehicle-in-progress and said, “I’ve decided to name it the Royal Chariot.” She flipped her tail and exited the room astride Mongo, following Mordecai.

“What the hell, man,” I said as the tooltip popped up over the unfinished vehicle. It didn’t yet have a description, but the game suddenly labeled it The Royal Chariot - Contraption.

The “chariot” was nothing more than a glorified, oversized ATV with an optional wagon. With the back cart attached, the contraption reminded me of the MOAB design we had fashioned to fight the rage elemental, but big enough to carry all of us. The most difficult part of the chariot was the tire design. We had some random rubber that I could shape into tires at the engineering table using my tools, but not nearly enough for four. I also had several black discs the goblins used for wheels on their copper choppers, but they had no real tread on them and weren’t very wide. We had to be able to traverse the sand dunes and deal with the hills. We really needed actual, bouncy tires. Mordecai could make the materials at his alchemy table, but it would take time. Time we didn’t have.

So instead, our first attempt was with metal tires. I made them as lightweight as possible, but after some experimentation, we realized they simply weren’t feasible. They were still too heavy, making the suspension system useless. The single-gear, magical train cart engine was pretty darn powerful, but I soon realized the design would still end up with us bogged helplessly down in the sand, even if we tried to avoid the bigger dunes. The whole purpose of this was to have something to travel around the bowl as quickly and efficiently as possible.

We solved this by using the engineering table to fashion a wide, treadmill track, like on the back of a snowmobile. The dromedarians used something similar. They had several tracked carts zipping around town. We still utilized two, steerable wheels in the front, which I was able to make out of rubber. The belt mechanism required multiple, toothed wheels of specific sizes, plus the tracks themselves. We’d eventually coat the treads with rubber, too, if this worked. Katia sketched it all out as we stood side-by-side at the engineering table. It only took about two hours to put together a working vehicle once we had the design. It was crude, and it was still heavier than I wanted. Plus I worried about the vehicle’s ability to handle deep sand.

But the goddamned thing worked.

The whole contraption without the cart was pretty small, maybe about twice the size of the long-lost copper chopper. The vehicle sat low and was just wide and strong enough for hulk-version Katia to sit up front with me right behind her in a second seat, raised. She looked a little ridiculous astride the thing, like an adult sitting on a kid’s sized ATV.

We most definitely could have made it larger and safer, but this design allowed me to lift it and stick it into my inventory. Sort of. We had to break it apart into two pieces. But we successfully built a vehicle that was both portable and big enough to handle the three of us. Katia wouldn’t be able to hold as much mass as I liked, but this thing was mostly built for speed. It was not a tank. It wasn’t for protection.

For now.

Katia and I discussed using the chariot’s body as a chassis for a much-larger, more flexible vehicle. One where she was the vehicle’s body. But she wasn’t fully onboard with the idea. Not yet. Plus, I made the mistake of suggesting we start calling her “Katia Prime,” and she didn’t find it nearly as amusing as I did.

After another half an hour tweaking the design of the chariot, we were ready for a quick field test.

“If we weren’t worried about storing it, I think two treads and no wheels at all might work better,” Katia said, admiring our work.

I grunted in agreement. “You’re not wrong. But we’re already going overboard here, and we’ve already wasted too much time. Anyway, you’re really good at this. I think you missed your calling.”

She waved at the track mechanism underneath the vehicle. “This is all thanks to that earth hobby potion,” she said. “Like I was sitting here, wondering how the heck we were going to put this thing together, and suddenly it was there. Do you think the aliens, you know, the ones not in the dungeon, can just teach themselves stuff like this on demand? Like in that Matrix movie? Like one guy out there can just take a few potions, and he’s suddenly a super genius in kung fu and piloting helicopters?”

“I don’t see why not,” I said. I bent down and unfastened two bolts. I strained, picking up the back half of the chariot. It disappeared into my inventory. “We don’t really know enough about the outside universe.”

“That seems like it would have such a huge impact on society. If anybody can be an expert in anything, what does that even mean? It doesn’t make sense to me how there’s such… I don’t know, cruelty.”

“It’s probably crazy expensive,” I said, moving to the front half of the Chariot. I pulled it into my inventory. “So only the ultra-rich can use it. Maybe it’s like plastic surgery. Only some people can afford it, and there are probably limits. Like if you do it too much, bad stuff happens.”

“Maybe,” she said. “I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s so… odd. I know how these engines and all the related mechanical parts work, but the knowledge is unnatural. I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s like I know it, but I don’t know, know it. Like maybe it’s getting downloaded into my brain on demand. Like I’m tapped directly into Wikipedia.”

“That is weird. My skill translates pretty well into action, but it’s mostly muscle stuff. So maybe it’s different. We still don’t know what Donut’s earth hobby skill is. It’s something really strange. Scutelliphily. I’ve asked a hundred people, and nobody knows what the hell it is.”

We headed outside, passing multiple dromedarians as we exited the city. Mordecai and Donut were nearby, and they said they’d be done “negotiating” in a bit. We didn’t want to go far, so we set up the cart just outside the gate.

It took us about five minutes to assemble the vehicle, which was much too long. We’d have to work on it.

We stepped back and admired our work. A new description popped up.

Tracked All-Terrain Suicide Machine. The Royal Chariot– Contraption.

If a snowmobile got drunk on moonshine and had a sweaty, ill-advised night with a hillbilly’s coon-hunting ATV, this oversized birth defect of a vehicle would be the result. Quickly traverses through both sand and snow. Don’t worry about the lack of roll cage or the grossly-misplaced center of gravity, or the fact this thing will do an impressive impersonation of a catapult the moment it hits a rock. The most important part is that it looks kind of badass.

“Whoa,” Katia said. “I just got an achievement for inventing something. That description is kind of worrying.”

“The system naming it means they think the design has at least some merit.”

I was making that up, but it sounded good. All I really wanted to do was get from point A to B quickly. I looked at the machine dubiously. “Let’s see how much of a deathtrap this really is.”

The dunes closer to the wall of the bowl were much more steep and were perfect for testing. The dromedarians kept the town’s outskirts mob free, and the air was clear. I ran up the closest hill just to make sure I wouldn’t sink through like with snow.

I stood at the top and waved. Katia started the vehicle and moved, slowly easing the chariot up the dune. It quickly and quietly ascended. The engine was completely silent. Only the tracks themselves made any noise. You couldn’t even tell the thing was running until she eased the throttle forward. She pulled it next to me.

“It works,” she said. “I can tell it’ll go pretty fast. We have to be careful with turns. I’m worried about rolling it. Maybe we shouldbuild a cage.”

The cart’s passage kicked up a huge plume of dust even though she’d only driven it about a hundred feet. I looked nervously up into the air. The Wasteland was near the edge of the bowl’s lip on the opposite side. Mordecai and Donut had just spent some time talking with the locals, and they learned that the gnome fortress kept to a pretty specific schedule. It was usually directly over the bowl except during the daily sand storm, when it moved to the edge of the bubble, parking itself over the water. After the storms were done, it’d spend the next few hours moving back into position. By the time the two-hour “night” was over, the fortress would be back in place several thousand feet over the center of the bowl.

We still had over 12 hours before the sandstorm was due to start, which meant the airship was not where it was supposed to be.

“The Wasteland isn’t really doing what Mordecai claimed it would,” I said.

Katia’s face turned to the sky. “Yeah, you’re right. It looks like it’s headed out to the ocean now. They must have misunderstood its schedule.”

Three flares rose into the air. Two red and one white. All three hung in the sky, crackling. They’d come from the south, in the general area of the Bactrian village.

That’s when I realized the Wasteland was directly over the other village. From behind and within Hump Town, shouting rose. A high-pitched, wailing siren suddenly filled the air. The siren was strangely urgent in its call, like the wailing of a child. Behind and above, on the corrugated metal town wall, the sheet covering one of the large boxes pulled away. Two of the camel creatures stepped into box.

“It’s an anti-aircraft gun,” I said. It had four barrels, turned to the sky.

The whoosh of rockets rose into the air behind us. It was three more flairs, this time fired from within town. I looked up and saw these three were red.

“I wonder what the colors mean,” Katia said.

“Let’s get back into town,” I said, jumping onto the back of the chariot. My seat was higher than hers, allowing me to see over her shoulder. Once Mordecai and Donut returned, I’d build the Chariot’s defenses. Katia drove down the hill. The vehicle seemed pretty steady to me. It continued to raise a huge plume of dust, however. I wondered if there was a way to better disguise our passage. Probably not.

We stopped outside the gate and started to quickly disassemble the vehicle. When we were done, I turned one last time to look south.

And that’s when the bombs started to fall on the distant town.

~

“If they were in safe rooms, they’ll be okay,” Mordecai said as we waited for the recap episode to start. They’d managed to purchase two dromedarian bazooka tubes and ten rocket-propelled missiles. These were straight, line-of-sight missiles. The camels absolutely refused to sell their guided ones. I’d already taken one apart and given the chemical drive mechanism to Mordecai so he could reverse-engineer it. He said he was certain now that he knew how it worked. He could make me some components that I could use to manufacture my own rockets at my sapper’s table. They wouldn’t pack as much punch as I’d like, but their range would be amazing. And once I added a surefire to some of them, I’d have actual guided missiles.

“If the whole town blows up, the safe rooms really are safe?” Katia asked.

“Yes,” Mordecai said. “But not all bars are true saferooms. Generally if the proprietor isn’t a Bopca, then there’s like a 50/50 chance. The Toe is not a real saferoom, but as long as we’re in the personal space, we’ll be fine. I think there might only be one or two other places in town that’ll protect crawlers.

I remembered Growler Gary from the last floor. His bar had not been safe for him.

“So the NPCs will be safe if they’re in the correct bars?” I asked.

From the sheer amount of explosives dropped from the Wasteland, there was no way anything was left in the town.

“Well, it’s actually complicated,” Mordecai said. “Certain NPCs will be safe. I would be safe if I was in a saferoom. The whole room would be protected. But if there aren’t any crawlers or basically any former-crawler or off-world NPCs in the room, the room is probably destroyed. There are additional rules if there’s only one saferoom in an area, but it’s pretty complicated stuff. The long and short of it is, Borant-owned NPCs are not protected by the saferoom system if they’re the only one there. They’re only protected if you are there.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” I said. “You’re saying all the NPCs are probably dead unless they were in a bar with crawlers? So saferooms are only ‘safe’ if a crawler is inside?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah. Again, there are some other rules. The manual on saferoom procedures is like a phonebook.”

“What about that other thing we were talking about? With the primary and secondary zones?”

“That’s different,” he said, shooting me a warning glare. “That doesn’t directly impact crawlers or npcs at all.”

I sighed. There was still just so much I didn’t understand. And you probably know more than 90% of the other crawlers.

“So the bar is just sitting there in the middle of the destroyed town?”

“That’s right,” Mordecai said. “Same with entrance to Club Vanquisher. Saferooms are protected spaces. That’s the point. Sometimes during quests and special events, the system prevents access to them, as you’ve seen. But if this town gets that same treatment from the gnomes, just come in here, and you’ll be protected.”

“I hope the poor people in the other town knew all this stuff,” Donut said. She sat on the counter eating a can of Fancy Feast from the food synthesizer. I could tell by the look on her face that she was not pleased. Mongo couldn’t get food from the boxes, so we still had to purchase it for him. But tonight he received a pet biscuit.

We still didn’t know why the gnomes had blown the Bactrian town to hell. From what I gathered based on the frantic activity by the dromedarians, they didn’t know either. We kept sticking our heads out to keep track of the ponderous fortress’s location. So far, it hadn’t made a move in our direction.

The recap show started. It opened with what looked like a giant sheet of bubble wrap. The camera quickly panned over it, showing bubble after bubble. Snowstorms, hurricanes, thick jungles, swamps, mountains, labyrinths, and more flashed by on screen.

But before it moved to the fifth floor, we watched multiple scenes from the end of the Iron Tangle. We watched Miriam Dom cast a spell that knocked out a giant province boss. The debuff only lasted ten seconds, but in that moment, Prepotente hit it with a half of a dozen different potions in a row, causing its unconsciousness to jump from ten seconds to five hours.

“Genius,” Mordecai said, watching the goat work. “He’s killing it with stacking debuffs.”

Quan Ch zipped into the room, shot the boss with a blue magical bolt, causing it to wake up. The goat team had to flee, with Prepotente screaming he was going to kill Quan. Quan remained in the room, shot the boss a few times, enough to get its health down halfway, but after the thing swung at him, he ran off.

“He could’ve killed it,” Donut said. “He ran away like a wuss. He’s a menace!”

“That robe of his is something else,” Mordecai said. “It looks like it gives flight, both the Shield spell and a constant Negate Magic shell, which is similar to Carl’s Wisp Armor spell. I’m not certain what the blue energy bolt is. I think it might be Disrupter, which is a rare but strong spell. It’s similar to Donut’s Magic Missile, but it is good for blowing holes in things. Plus it has splash damage and has a stun effect.”

“That should be ours,” Donut grumbled.

Next, they showed my fight with Grull. They said Grull was being controlled by Prince Maestro, but it was only a quick mention, and they didn’t focus on him. Instead, they showed the teamwork of Elle, Donut, Katia, plus Li Jun’s team. They portrayed the train falling through the portal into the abyss, but they did not show Fire Brandy or Tizquick the dwarf at the controls. Instead, they switched it back to me, showing the experience points get showered onto me as the wall monitors all died and the soul crystals across the tangle detonated, opening up the floor to escape.

Mordecai gave me an appraising look afterward. “You know you’re crazy, right?”

I nodded.

The show abruptly changed, becoming a tribute to the life of the crawler Ifechi.

“So it was Ifechi who died,” I said as they showed the African man hesitantly enter the dungeon. “He was a healer. Poor guy.”

Ifechi entered the dungeon with a group of other men, all soldiers, all wielding AK-47s. Ifechi was the only one who wasn’t armed. He was also dressed differently than the others, wearing a bright red shirt with a vest. He carried a medical bag over his shoulder with the familiar Red Cross logo.

“Not a guy,” Katia said suddenly, peering closely at the screen. “Ifechi was a woman.”

“What?” I said. “Are you sure? How can you tell?” The crawler looked like a dude to me. He was rail thin, smaller than the others. Everything about him seemed timid and drawn-in, afraid. He kept his head shaved. Not that I was an expert, nor did it really matter, but he looked like a bloke to me.

“Call it a super power. I can tell.”

We watched as Ifechi’s former team, Le Mouvement, got zeroed out by a translucent jelly boss the size of a house. From there, Ifechi, now all alone, stumbled through the dungeon, eventually meeting up with Florin. Florin, as a human, had kind of a mysterious background. He said he was from France, but he had an Australian accent. He was in Africa when it all went down. They didn’t really give the guy’s full story, but he mentioned something about “private security.” I knew what that really meant. He was a mercenary of some sort. He’d also come into the dungeon armed to the teeth, but he now relied solely on his automatic shotgun, which appeared to be heavily modified even before he received the magical, unlimited-ammo upgrade. Ifechi eventually chose a healer class, and Florin picked the crocodilian race. They had been separated when they hit the third floor, but they quickly found one another. It showed them hugging and sobbing as they reunited.

They were more than just friends, I realized.

Florin’s weapon was devastating to most of the mobs, and Ifechi, despite being a healer, had an attack so effective, so unique, I could see how the two had earned spots in the top ten. It was a staff that summoned and flung leeches. A lot of leeches. They’d cover the mob, sucking at its fluids, killing it in seconds. Afterward, the wriggling leeches would be filled with blood and other fluids from the dead mobs, and they could be eaten, giving a wide array of buffs. Florin would gobble them right up, getting temporarily stronger. It was disgusting,

“Fascinating,” Mordecai said. “I haven’t seen anything like that in a very long time. I thought they’d removed that spell. Crocodilians have the ability to triple the effectiveness of any buffs they receive from eating creatures. He probably chose that race just because of her staff.”

And then, finally, we saw the manner of Ifechi’s death.

The two were part of a group that had moved to one of the former ghoul stations after the stairwell station had opened. A line had formed at the stairs, and people were quickly descending. The station was almost empty. Everything was moving nice and orderly.

And then Lucia Mar entered the room.

The number one crawler strolled into the station like she owned the place, flanked by her two dogs, Cici and Gustavo 3. Lucia was in her beautiful, magic-focused form. Her Lajabless class made it so she spent half the day as the beautiful woman. The rest of the day she spent as a strong, melee-focused, female version of Skeletor. The dwindling crowd parted as the child-turned-woman walked through the room, her raven hair sparkling. She had a mess of boss kills and player-killer skulls over her head.

Cici the rottweiler had also undergone a transformation, having grown to be almost twice the size of the other dog. The larger dog growled at a random crawler, who scattered back.

Lucia paused, looking about the room. The remaining crawlers scrambled at their chance to hit the stairwell. A glut formed at the exit.

Florin and Ifechi approached Lucia, apparently in an attempt to say hello.

“No. This is mine,” Lucia said, hugging herself. The two dogs growled.

“All right, mate,” Florin said, backing off, arms raised. He turned away and muttered “crazy bitch,” under his breath.

Lucia did not hesitate. She grabbed the closest crawler, a man about 18 years old who was desperately trying not to be seen. She picked him up like he weighed nothing, and literally threw the man at Florin. The poor guy wailed as he was tossed, which caused Florin to jump out of the way. The thrown man hit the ground, bounced once, and crashed against the far wall, unconscious.

“What the hell?” Florin shouted as Ifechi rushed to the injured man. “Lady, you’re not right in the head. We’re all friends here.”

“There is nothing wrong with my head,” Lucia Mar said, sounding strangely offended. “Why would you say that?” She pointed at Ifechi, who was shoving something into the mouth of the unconscious man. “Speak no more, or there will be something wrong with your girlfriend’s head.”

“Girlfriend. Told you,” Katia said, as we watched, transfixed.

“Jesus,” I said. “And I thought the goat was crazy.”

“Prepotente is crazy, Carl,” Donut said. “You’re crazy, too. Lucia is something different. She’s insane.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Florin backed away, not saying anything. I could tell the guy was smart. He recognized her insanity. The last of the crawlers pushed their way to the stairs, leaving just the three of them plus the injured crawler. And the dogs.

“That’s sad,” Donut said.

“What?” I asked.

“Nobody stayed behind for that poor guy Lucia threw across the room. Only Ifechi helped him.”

I reached up and patted Donut’s head. The cat’s entire body was taut as she watched the screen.

Florin said nothing as he walked backward, keeping his eyes on Lucia. He reached to tap Ifechi on the shoulder and signaled for her to proceed toward the stairs. She nodded. The injured man sat up, rubbing his head. He gave a terrified glance at Lucia and scrambled toward the stairwell. Gustavo—the regular-sized rottweiler—moved to block his access.

“What did you say?” Lucia growled at the fleeing boy. “What did you say about my papa?” Gustavo took a menacing step toward him.

“What?” he asked. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He didn’t say anything about your father, you right cunt,” Florin said, distracting her. “But if I could say something to him, it’d probably be, quit dropping your babies on their heads. It makes them a touch daffy.” He pulled Ifechi up. “Come on, Ife. To the stairs.”

“Don’t take shit from anyone. It’s just a game. It’s not real,” Lucia said. She was talking to someone over her shoulder. Someone who wasn’t there.

Ifechi surreptitiously cast a spell by waving her hand. It looked like a protection spell of some sort. She cast it twice. Once on Florin and once on the other crawler, leaving herself unprotected.

“Why did you talk,” Lucia said to Florin. She sounded curious, her head cocked to the side. “I said I would make your girlfriend’s head not right if you talked.”

“We don’t want any trouble,” Florin said, edging his way toward the stairwell.

“That’s what they always say,” Lucia said, moving sideways to block the exit. She clicked her teeth.

Everything that happened next took place over the course of ten seconds.

Cici the giant rottweiler rushed at Florin, launching herself at him. Gustavo did the same, jumping over the other hapless crawler and rocketing toward the crocodilian.

Bam, bam, bam.

Florin’s shotgun was suddenly in his hand, and he’d fired three blasts so quickly that I didn’t even see the movement. He sent one shell at Lucia, one at Cici, and one at Gustavo, in that order.

Lucia and the two dogs all flew backward. Florin continued to blast all three in turn. Bam, bam, bam. He took a step toward them. Bam, bam, bam.

Next to me, Mordecai groaned. Katia gasped. And then I saw what they saw.

Ifechi was leaned up against the chamber wall. Her head was gone. The splatter of blood and brains painted the stone.

“What…” I began. Mordecai held up his wing for me to be silent.

That fourth crawler cast a spell as he scrambled toward the stairwell. It turned the floor of the room to ice. He rushed down the stairs and disappeared.

Lucia sat up, not injured at all. She grinned at Florin.

“I told you I’d do it,” she said.

“No,” Mordecai said. “No, no, no.”

Florin fired once more, right into the temple of Lucia Mar.

They both flew back this time, spinning and turning like pinballs.

Lucia Mar ricocheted off the wall as she sat up, again uninjured. She cackled with laughter, laughter that abruptly turned to a strangled cry as she continued her momentum and plunged into the stairwell and disappeared. She crashed loudly to the bottom of the stairs.

Both of the dogs whimpered as they tried to get up, also uninjured. They scrambled, their feet unable to purchase on the slippery ground. They spun and turned and bounced off one another. They clambered, howling and whimpering as they moved to follow Lucia Mar onto the stairwell.

If what had just happened wasn’t so horrifying, it would’ve been hilarious.

Florin sat up. The side of his head was covered in blood, his health mostly gone. His health rose. He shook his head, confused.

And only then did he notice that Ifechi was dead. He looked at her, bewildered, not understanding what had just happened.

“No,” he said, seeing her body against the wall. “No, Ife, no.”

That’s when I noticed the shining, golden skull over Florin’s head. He dropped his gun, put an arm over his crocodile eyes, and he started to wail.

The show cut away to the smiling host, breathlessly starting to explain the fifth floor.

“What the fuck did I just watch?” I asked as the show went on.

“Lucia appears to have access to a very powerful spell,” Mordecai said. “It probably comes from something she’s wearing. It usually has a long cooldown, but she either has multiples of the spell, or she has somehow defeated the cooldown problem. Either way, it’s ridiculously broken. It’s no wonder she’s so strong.”

“What’s the spell?” I asked.

“Rubber, most likely. It’s similar to your damage reflect and Donut’s love vampire. When she’d cast it, it also applied to her two pets. So it’s at least level ten. I bet it’s closer to 15. It reduces a high percentage of incoming damage and reflects it to a target. She’d cast it directly on Ifechi’s head. So when Florin shot her and the dogs, he was literally shooting his partner in the head.”

“They gave him credit for the kill,” Katia said. “That’s awful. It doesn’t seem right.”

“It’s not. That’s the dungeon being a dick,” I said.

“Dreadful. Just dreadful. How did Florin survive shooting himself in the head?” Donut asked.

“It was that spell,” I said. “Ifechi cast it on him and the other guy, but not on herself.”

“Certain protection spells can’t be cast on yourself,” Mordecai said. “It takes a special type of person to want to use and train such spells.”

I thought of Imani, who was also a healer. She would have done the same thing in this situation.

Goddamnit. Every time I saw or heard of a crawler killing one of their own, it just made me angrier.

You will not break me. Fuck you all. I will break you.

I took a deep breath. “That kid’s brain is scrambled,” I said finally. “Donut is right. She’s literally insane. She’s talking to phantoms and hearing things.”

“Poor thing,” Katia said. “But she needs to be dealt with.”

“I agree,” I said. “We need to put her down.”

“I call dibs on the dogs,” Donut said.

Mordecai: Here’s the good news. If she does use that Rubber spell, it has a vulnerability. A big one. They’d been editing out her using the spell until now. There’s a reason for that. They want her killed.

Carl: Okay. We’ll talk about it later. But if she’s not in our bubble, it doesn’t really matter. We gotta survive this place first.

From there, they portrayed multiple crawlers entering the warehouse and spinning the wheels. Lucia Mar was given the land quadrant in a bubble that was designed similarly to our own, but it was a massive, stepped pyramid in the center. And the weather was cold and covered in ice. I laughed at that. Prepotente and Miriam Dom landed on the air quadrant of a bubble that was like a giant cave with rock growing along the interior wall of the sphere. Their domain was nothing more than a shelf of rock that ringed the interior wall. Their target was a nest of spiders that hung from the ceiling, thousands of feet into the air.

“Jesus,” I said. “They’re just as fucked as we are.”

Florin entered his room completely defeated. He sat down in the corner of the warehouse and did not spin anything. He had Ifechi’s leech staff, which he laid across his lap. He leaned his head against the wall and went to sleep right there.

It portrayed a dozen more shots of people spinning and landing on a wide assortment of quadrants.

The show ended with the promise of more bloodshed and more hilarious outtakes of us silly crawlers struggling to survive. I pictured myself punching the host over and over until his head caved in.

The show ended, and the new top 10 populated on the board.

1. Lucia Mar – Lajabless – Black Inquisitor General – Level 38 – 1,000,000 (x2)

2. Carl – Primal – Compensated Anarchist – Level 41 – 500,000 (x2)

3. Prepotente – Caprid – Forsaken Aerialist – Level 35 – 400,000 (x2)

4.  Donut – Cat – Former Child Actor – Level 33 – 300,000 (x2)

5. Quan Ch – Half Elf – Imperial Security Trooper – Level 43 – 200,000 (x2)

6. Dmitri and Maxim Popov – Nodling – Illusionist and Bogatyr – Level 33 – 100,000 (x2)

7. Miriam Dom – Human – Shepherd – Level 31 – 100,000 (x2)

8. Elle McGib – Frost Maiden – Blizzardmancer – Level 33 – 100,000

9. Bogdon Ro – Human – Legatus – Level 31 – 100,000

10. Florin – Crocodilian – Shotgun Messenger – Level 33 – 100,000 (x2)

“Carl! You’re number two! Katia! You fell off the list! This is outrageous! You were a superstar.”

“Thank god,” Katia said. She looked genuinely relieved.

“Hey,” Donut said. “Wait a second. Why didn’t I go up? Carl, we’re separated. I don’t like that.”

I patted her on the head while she grumbled, swishing her tail angrily.

“Also, why did Florin lower so much?” Donut asked a moment later. “That was so sad, and they’re punishing him for it.”

“I bet he hasn’t moved since he went down the stairs. He’s probably still sitting in that room where you spin the wheels. His PR agent is probably losing her shit,” I said. “Elle is back on the list, but her bounty didn’t double.”

“She wasn’t in the top ten when the floor ended,” Mordecai said.

Quan Ch had hit level 43, making him the highest, though I had no idea why or how. The asshole fled any fight that looked like it might be difficult. Hopefully he was using his powers this floor to get everyone in his bubble to safety.

I shuddered, thinking of the poor bastards stuck with Lucia Mar. The kid had an obvious mental illness. If we were someplace else, my first thought would be to lock her up and put her someplace where she could get the treatment she obviously needed.

But we weren’t someplace else, and she was killing people. Good people. She had to be taken care of.

I didn’t want to admit it, but part of me was happy that there was nothing I could do about that right now. We only had a limited number of fellow crawlers to deal with on this level.

That shit weighs down on you after a while, I thought.

***

Hope everyone is doing well. It's been a busy week between election madness and a sick kid and writin' and all the usual stuff.

I was hoping to get a double chapter to you guys this time, but you know how it goes. More soon.

Also, here's a (very) rough layout and art preview of what the book 2 cover will eventually look like. Don't worry. I'm not personally drawing Carl's head this time. Haha.