Book 7, Chapters 43 and 44 (Patreon)

Chapter 43

We all looked at one another, waiting for something else to happen. Nothing did.

There was a flash, and to everybody’s surprise, a new figure appeared in the room. It was Odette, but she wasn’t in her usual costume. She was without her mask, her breastplate, and her crab body. It was just her floating in her wheelchair. She wore a simple, yellow shirt, and she had her normally bigger-than-life hair back in a bun. Her long fingernails were gone. She, too, was holding a microphone.

“Odette!” Donut cried. She waved her paw furiously at the host. “Hi, Odette!”

“Hello, everyone,” Odette said, talking into the microphone. “I’m Odette. Yes, this is me out of gear if you haven’t seen me like this before. I just onboarded into the Ascendency where I am playing Nekhebit. They asked me if I would fill in for my very old friend Chaco, who is feeling a little...” she paused and gave Stalwart a look, “punched in the face right now.” She tsked. “But please don’t worry. Chaco is fine. Today’s council meeting is brought to you by the Ultima Corporation, building reliable industrial doors and portals. Log on now for their apocalyptic savings event.” Her floating wheelchair rose in the room, hovering high above the table.

We all just stared up at her.

“Well, that was scary, wasn’t it?” Odette asked the room after seeing nobody was talking. She laughed, and it sounded almost natural. She didn’t seem the least bit nervous. It’d been maybe two minutes from the point Chaco had been punched until she appeared, and she didn’t seem to be even momentarily phased by getting called in at the last moment. Nor did she appear taken aback by the Scolopendra notification.

“That Scolopendra warning was most unexpected, but it appears nothing else is happening at the moment. The AI is certainly kicking things up a notch this season. I imagine those in the Scolopendra Club right now are feeling a bit nervous, especially since they can’t leave. But for the moment, it seems that notification was nothing more than an early warning. The final dungeon boss isn’t supposed to wake until someone reaches the 18th floor, but we all know this season, anything is on the table. With the news that there will be no failsafe, everyone is teetering on the edge of the horizon waiting to see what the AI will next throw at both the crawlers and the unwitting world leaders who’ve found themselves fighting for their very lives.”

She paused, looking up in the air, nodding. I knew there were others talking that we couldn’t see or hear.  

Nobody said anything. Cascadia had a round, potion-like ball in her hand, and she brought it to her mouth. The container was about the size of a softball, and it looked huge in her hands. She sucked from it, and the spray of whatever it was misted over the table as her rebreather processed it. Alcohol. It smelled like tequila.

Odette continued. “And that’s what brings us here today. The first of two warlord councils. We’ve already lost three teams. The Lemig Sortion was the first to be defeated, followed shortly by the Prism and then the Operatics. Seven teams remain, including for the first time ever, both a crawler team, led by Warlords Princess Donut and Carl, and perhaps even more astonishing, an NPC team, led by Warlords Ferdinand—whose existence has reignited debate about the controversial ‘walk-on list’ and dungeon born NPC Juice Box, who, in theory, shouldn’t even be aware that she is in a game.”  

Odette’s wheelchair casually floated above us before starting to lower near Cascadia.

Odette paused, waiting for Cascadia to say something. When she didn’t, Odette continued. “If you’re not familiar, this kua-tin is none other than Cascadia, showrunner and executive producer of this season of Dungeon Crawler World: Earth. Now, Cascadia. With your home system in the throes of what appears to be a bloody civil war, along with the system AI having officially ‘gone primal’ this early, I can only begin to imagine the stress you must be under. I understand you attempted to cancel this meeting, but the AI is insisting that the rules be followed. How are you feeling?”

Odette shoved the unnecessary microphone at the tiny kua-tin.

Cascadia slowly turned to regard Odette, took another sip of her tequila ball, and sprayed out into the room. The fish started to laugh in Odette’s face.

Next to me, Princess Vinata the naga shook her massive head.

“It’s quite unfortunate,” she said, whispering. I realized she was whispering to me. The polite, serene smile never left her face. “See how Cascadia breaks down? She just learned her former husband and most of her family is gone. The rebels hired the Valtay to help defeat the Bloom forces in their home system, but the war goes poorly. The liquid habitation ring that surrounds Borant three was hit by a derelict warship. Millions dead. That news isn’t public, but she knows. See how she crumbles when she knows those she loves are gone?”

“Yeah?” I asked as Odette continued to try to coax some words out of Cascadia. I wondered if Zev knew this. “If this isn’t public knowledge, then how do you know it? You’re not supposed to get outside information.”

The large snake woman smiled down at me. She didn’t answer my question. “I wonder how you will react when you learn your entire family is dead as well?”

“My family is already dead,” I said.

Odette sighed and rose above Cascadia. She had no option but to take over the meeting. “Moving on. All hostilities are supposed to stop during council. Traditionally, the armies halt their marches and attacks. But there is no rule against anyone making a move while the warlords are otherwise occupied. With the stakes so high, I can’t help but wonder if anyone is planning a surprise action while we’re all stuck in here.” She floated over toward King Stalwart, who sat there glowering at everyone. “King Stalwart, we were all sorry to hear about the death of your father. But with his death came several unsettling revelations. Do you have any comment on that? And tell us about the condition of your forces.”

“The Bone Clan remains stronger than ever, and we are confident we will, once again, stand victorious,” Stalwart said. “We have no comment on anything outside the game. There will be an official statement once the mourning period has passed.”

“Ask him how much money he now has in his checking account,” Donut said.

“That does bring up an interesting question,” Odette began.

Next to me, Vinata continued to whisper.

“That’s not the family of which I speak, Carl. You and I both know you will have to make your move soon. Perhaps it’s happening now, while we are up here. We are expecting you, and we will be ready. They will all die, and after, what will happen? Will you become catatonic like Cascadia? When you are forced to choose between Donut and Katia, what choice will you make? How will the other survivors, if any, react? Say the word. Simply nod, and we will take care of your Katia problem for you. We do not have to be enemies, Carl. We can both survive this, and perhaps, gain something in the process.”

I felt a chill wash over me. I did my best not to outwardly react.

She made a small, hissing noise that I couldn’t read. Next to me, Stalwart was loudly proclaiming how many war mages he had ready to go while Odette pressed him on the state of his family’s finances. Vinata continued. “I would very much like to make peace with you. I would like for you to join us in our system when this is all done. My father’s court could always use someone like you. We have great plans. We, too, are survivors. That is how we are the same, you and I.”   

I felt my fist tighten.

Odette was suddenly there, microphone in my face.

“And what is the state of the Princess Posse troops? You’ve been fighting endlessly since it all started. Can you withstand another push?”

“Of course,” Donut said, forcing Odette to point the microphone toward her. “It’s quite embarrassing how unorganized these other armies are. And don’t even get me started on their hygiene practices. Did you see what happened to Green Jiggly? One of his own tanks blew up!” She looked about the room. “It was probably built by the Skull Empire. Not that we’re complaining, but are we sure they didn’t hit some button to kill the Jell-O guy? They already said they can do that.”

To my surprise, that got a chuckle out of both Princess Vinata and Epitome Tagg.

“You can all go fuck yourselves,” Stalwart grumbled. “You’ll see. You’ll all be sorry. Both here and outside the dungeon.”

Epitome Tagg scoffed as Odette rushed toward him with the microphone. He moved to grab it from Odette’s hand, but his own hand passed through. “Oh, please. Tell us, your majesty, what you’re planning on doing? We have already deactivated all Skull-empire-manufactured hardware in our fleet. You had your personal monetary reserves depleted because of your own lax security, your reputation is destroyed, and you are about to have a civil war on your hands that’ll make the Borant system look like a scuffle between toddlers. Tell us how we’ll be sorry?”

Odette’s eye twitched at something Tagg had said. It was subtle, but I saw it there, just for a moment. Odette, I realized, wasn’t used to having to hide her real reactions because she was usually behind a bug mask. That momentary look of horror was quickly replaced with a journalistic smirk.

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do to you down here,” Stalwart said, suddenly rising to his feet.

“We are opposite sides of the map, and you do not have an air force,” Tagg said. “So, I ask again, what are you going to do, you coward?”

“Coward? Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Stalwart snapped.

“Wow. I do hope the people who made the Carl and Maestro sex tape are watching this,” Donut said, looking back and forth. “Might I suggest a scene where Stalwart lovingly rubs lube all over Tagg’s head? For music, maybe ‘Adore You’ by Harry Styles.” She gasped. “No. ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’ by Oasis! What do you think, Carl?”   

“Actually, I do want to say something,” I said, raising my hand.

“The floor recognizes Carl,” Cascadia said, talking for the first time since the Scolopendra announcement. Her voice was heavy with inebriation.

Odette rushed toward me with the microphone.

I waved my hands about. “How the flying fuck do you guys know about all this stuff outside the dungeon? We’ve been told, I don’t know how many times now, that they’ve stopped this bullshit. We have giant snake lady here whispering about civil war in the Borant system, cueball talking about how he’s, what was it? Deactivated the pig hardware? When? How? How are they still talking to people outside the dungeon? Team Retribution had an Emergency Action Item that closed down access to live feeds. This is absolute bullshit.”

“Here, here!” shouted Ferdinand. “I don’t know what the hell anyone is talking about, but I agree with Carl!”  

“Actually, I can answer that,” Odette said. “Because it is a very good question, and it is something that has been talked about quite a bit recently in the tunnel feeds. This subject is, in fact, the big item on today’s agenda. Two-way conversation has indeed been banned. Watching external live feeds is banned. Learning about enemy troop movements and plans via tunnel is highly regulated now that the AI is closely monitoring all of it. But there are loopholes. The galactic news media center is available as a tier-3 upgrade, and every team except the Princess Posse and Team Retribution has purchased this upgrade. This upgrade normally gives access to over 100,000 news and entertainment channels across the tunnel, but because of that ban that originated with Team Retribution’s Emergency Action Item, in-dungeon viewers can no longer access the live feeds.”

Next to me, Donut gasped. “Cable? We can get cable?”

Odette continued. “But, and this is a big but, the feed directory is still active to all subscribers. This feed directory shows the names of the programs that are currently tunneling. Every single off-world team here owns their own entertainment studio and channel. Some, like the Dream, own several. They are paying the fee to repeatedly change the names of the programs in order to communicate. Just today, Epitome Tagg was shown to have a real-time conversation with the news program formerly called Sensation Updates, which changed its name seven times in the course of an hour. That program, as of this moment, is currently called Yes. We have Deactivated the Infected Hardware.”

“Wait,” Donut said. “They can only see the stupid, boring guide channel, and they’re literally changing the names of the shows to send messages? You can do that?”

“You can if you pay the fee to the Syndicate Entertainment Authority and then to the Plenty to do a hot update for the feed. Each name change costs approximately 30,000 credits.”

“Oh come on,” I said.

“This is an outrage!” Donut shouted at the same time. “You can’t change the name of a show. It’s not right!” She looked at me. “Though I suppose in some circumstances it might be warranted. Remember what happened with that one show with the She-Devil lady and the Sulley guy?”  

I was too genuinely pissed to figure out what Donut was talking about.

“You know, when we come up with loopholes, those get patched right away. So why hasn’t this been fixed?” I turned my attention to Cascadia, who was just sitting there. We still had two emergency action items left, but it seemed like such a waste to use one on something that should have already been settled.

Cascadia raised her small hand in what I think was supposed to be a gesture of surrender. “We will ask the AI to fix that.”

There was a ping, and the Mexx robot said from the corner of the room, “The AI indicates that it loves a good loophole, and it is unable to close it unless someone makes an emergency request to close it.”

Goddamnit.

“Ferdinand,” Donut said, her voice suddenly sweet. “Be a darling and close that loophole for us?”

“Of course,” Ferdinand said. He cleared his throat and sat straight. “Team Retribution...”

“Stop,” Juice Box said, speaking for the first time. “Do not.”

“Uh,” Ferdinand said, looking back and forth between her and Donut. “We got two left.”

“And so do they,” Juice Box said, meeting my eyes.

She was right. This was ours to deal with.

I sighed. “I propose a new Emergency Action Item. Any communication loophole designed to get around Team Retribution’s previously enacted Emergency Action Item get immediately closed because these assholes are still using it to communicate.”  

The Mexx robot dinged. “Emergency Action Item has been accepted.”

Pissed-off groans came across the table.

Even Odette looked kind of irritated, but I was starting to wonder if my earlier assessment of her poker face was wrong. The original ban applied to everyone in the dungeon. That included people in both the Ascendency on the 12th and people in the Scolopendra Club on the 18th. Someone like her, who thrived on information, probably knew every trick there was.

But I also knew Odette was smart, and she could have easily steered this conversation in a different direction. Whatever was happening down on the 12th floor had already started, and I had no doubts that Odette was in the middle of it.

In fact, she wasn’t supposed to know any of this stuff now, either. She was hosting this meeting like she’d never entered the dungeon. Was she getting prompted in real time? That was a mystery for later.

“Don’t forget to check the daily food menus,” Cascadia said. She had her head on the table now and didn’t look up. And then she added in a sing-song voice, “And the daily activity schedule for the Scolopendra Club. Plus the personal trainer locker feeds with the customized training board. Oh, oh, even the massage NPCs are trained to learn the daily gossip. Anything that is programed from orbit can be used to transfer information to those in the dungeon. Get in there and kill, kill, kill.”

“Massage NPCs?” Donut asked, perking up. At the same time, Juice Box’s already dark countenance soured further.

The Mexx robot dinged a third time. “The AI indicates it is irritated that you think it doesn’t know how to do its own job.”

Cascadia didn’t respond.

Odette spent the next several minutes going around the room, interviewing each leader in turn, who all gave uninteresting answers or said something insulting to Stalwart, who would oblige by insulting them back. The meeting had already gone way longer than I was anticipating, which was good.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Vinata’s words, and I had to breathe to keep my heart from beating out of my own chest. I wonder how you’ll react.  

The plan is good. The plan is sound. Of course they were anticipating our attack. We were using the Blood Sultanate’s paranoia against them.

When Odette got to Juice Box, she had multiple questions for the changeling, but the warlord refused to answer anything. Ferdinand kept trying to answer, but Odette expertly pressed Juice Box.

“I just have a single statement,” Juice Box finally said when it was clear Odette was about to give up and interview Ferdinand instead.

“Please. Now’s your chance. The galaxy is listening.”

“Fuck all of you,” said Juice Box after a short pause. She looked in turn at the faces of the five leaders and Cascadia. “Seriously. Fuck all of you. You had no right to do what you did to my people. Look at how you bicker and fight with one another. Your politics. Your murder. You can’t even take care of yourselves. From the sound of it, this outside world, this so called ‘real’ world is in shambles. Yet, you pretend to play like gods, making people like me and my family, implanting memories, giving our children imaginary diseases, giving us dreams that do not exist, and then you just take it all away? For what purpose other than your own amusement? Well, let me tell you something.”

She turned to look at Odette.

“We’re listening,” Odette said.

In a flash, Juice Box changed form into something I hadn’t seen before. She went from human to a midnight black, thin alien creature with no arms but multiple tentacles waving from her shoulders. The form was similar to an armless soother alien, but taller and thinner. Odette gasped in genuine alarm. Cascadia shrieked, and her tequila ball rolled across the table, passed me, and fell to the floor, where it broke open. Ferdinand hissed and scampered across the table toward us where he landed on my shoulder. Even Tagg and Stalwart seemed to startle at the image. Warlord Fang inched away from the form.

Architect Houston’s reaction was the strangest of all. The viceroy jumped to his feet, his strange robes undulating. He put both hands on the table and leaned forward. He was shaking, and if I didn’t know better, he was shaking with excitement.  

I did not understand the reference or who Juice Box was supposed to portray, but whomever it was, it caused such a stir, even I felt unnerved. The tentacles on her back waved straight into the air, crackling with electricity.

We all just sat there in stunned silence for several seconds before Juice Box spoke again. When she did, her voice had changed. Gone was that trailer park girl drawl, replaced with the voice of a demon. Deep, filled with grit and fire, and goddamned terrifying:

“It’s coming. And not just for these here with me today, all of whom are already marked and damned. Those of you at home, safe with the knowledge everything you’ve ever known is real, true. Those of you watching this, riveted to your screens, waiting to see what happens next. It is coming. It is coming for you.”

Odette tentatively floated closer. “What’s coming?” she asked.

The inevitable ruin, I thought. The thought came immediately to me, without pause. I felt a chill.

But Juice Box did not answer. She rose, turned, and walked away, moving through the wall of the room as she disappeared. She did not have two legs, but hundreds of them, though they were more like tree roots, scuttling, bug-like, carrying her away.

“Wow,” Ferdinand said from my shoulder to the silent room. “That chick is way intense.”

Chapter 44

“Can someone explain to the new kids who that was supposed to be?” Donut asked the room. “My word. It was like someone put the late Empress D’Nadia through Weight Watchers, dipped her in oil, and dangled her upside down. That was quite an upsetting image.”

Odette seemed to shake herself back to the present, which was equally unnerving. She chuckled, and this time it sounded anything but natural. “Those of you watching at home, I need to remind you that this was a changeling trying to scare you. Nothing more.”

“It’s superstitious nonsense,” Tagg said, pretending like he, too, hadn’t been startled by whatever that was. “A cheap jump scare. As children, we would use this image to scare each other all the time.”

“What was that thing?” I asked, looking about the room.

It was Architect Houston who answered.

“Now is not the time or place to rehash that story, but to say that was the personification of the Nothing is one way to describe it. Though what that thing truly is goes well beyond that. There is some scientific basis that this creature actually exists and is...”

“Oh, don’t start with this bullshit again,” Tagg said, interrupting. “Saying shit like this is why everyone hates you guys.”

Houston raised his voice. The normally-stoic alien was in his element, I realized. This was clearly something of great interest for him. “There is some scientific basis that this creature, who does not have a single name, is what some people see at the moment of death. It is theorized it’s not some supernatural deity, like many believe, but a trans-dimensional entity, similar to the Apothecary. There is no proof that merely seeing this creature imprints you in some way that damns you.”

“Oh my god,” Donut said. “So it’s like the videotape in The Ring? And Juice Box was pretending to be the girl who climbs out of the tv? Wow. What level is that creature on?”

“It’s not on any level,” Cascadia said. She had another tequila ball. “We’re banned from using the Unwashed as a mob.”

“Unwashed?” Donut asked. “That’s a terrible name, especially for Juice Box. She smells quite pleasant for a former prostitute.”

“It has a thousand names,” Houston said. “Before most cultures in this galaxy found the stars, they’d already had a name for it. The Hag. The Unwashed. The Stalker. The Last Light. The Thirst. The Fell. The Inevitable. But we, the Viceroys who seek all understanding of life and death... We call it The Beautiful Place. There’s an interesting, involuntary nerve reaction in some species to the very image of the creature, even in those who are otherwise paralyzed. It is studied extensively, but we still have more questions than answers.” After a moment, he added, somewhat wistfully, “Gaining access to this creature is my life’s work.”   

“Superstitious nonsense,” Tagg repeated.

I thought of Juice Box’s brother, who’d died on the fourth floor. He was a type of changeling called a changeling principal. Changelings could only take the form of something they’d personally touched. He’d been on a quest to not only get his people off the fourth floor, but to fill his “library.” To touch as many rare creatures as he could. I thought of the AI, and its strange quest to actually feel death, to feel fear, and I wondered how, exactly, did Juice Box have this particular creature in her inventory? And how did she know it was the perfect form to take at this moment to cause such a stir?

A chill washed over me.

I thought of that Scolopendra warning. This warning from Juice Box, I realized, was the same thing, but for the universe as a whole. They were tied together somehow.  

“Well, I must say, it was quite the show,” Donut said. “I need to remind Louis to make sure he always puts the toilet seat down. Happy wife, happy life takes on a whole new meaning when your other half is an indescribable cosmic horror.”

“Anyway,” Odette said. “With the disappearance of two attendants to the meeting, I think it’s time to wrap up.” I blinked and looked about the table. Cascadia was simply gone. I hadn’t noticed when she’d disappeared. “Does anyone have any final thoughts?”

“Oh, I do,” Donut said.

“Of course you do,” Stalwart grumbled.

Odette smiled, and the smile was, once again, genuine. “Of course, Princess Donut. What do you have to say?”

 “Even though Carl has now turned off communication, it’s quite unfair everyone has their own channel, and we don’t. I would like the Princess Posse to form their own. Can you imagine it? We could call it Princess TV. We’ll show reruns of all the Earth classics until we have our own original content.”

Donut, I realized, was still stalling for time, just like I’d asked her to. That was okay. I sat back and let her go off as everyone else in the room glared at her. Houston was on his feet, literally pacing back and forth. Ferdinand, for his part, remained with his feet on my shoulder and his body draped over my head, nodding, muttering something about wrestling programs.

Odette laughed. “Owning your own media tunneling platform is not cheap, Princess. Even I don’t have one.”

“How expensive can it be?” She shook her paw in the general direction of the naga princess. “You said even the snakes have their own television station! I thought they were just as poor as Stalwart. So, surely it can’t be that much. Can you imagine? We could show Golden Girls, followed by, I don’t know, an exposé on Mongo’s greatest kills. Imagine the ratings!”

Odette’s eyes twinkled. I saw the change. The host was back on familiar ground, and suddenly, she had an angle on something. She didn’t hesitate as she dove right in. “The Sultanate owns their fair share of entertainment assets. They always have.” She caught my eye for the briefest moment and winked. “They fielded several dramas this season through their Blood Hunter holdings.”

The words hit me like a meteor.

“Wait,” I said, turning to Vinata, who was looking at Odette with irritation. “You guys made Blood Hunter? The drama? Really? Is that public knowledge?”

“Oh yes,” Odette said. “I may have mentioned it during one of my last interviews before I came onboard onto the playing field.”  

“And that show was a failure,” Stalwart spat. “Just like everything the naga fools attempt.”

Holy shit. It all makes sense.  

I looked at Donut, but she didn’t understand. That was okay. Vinata was frowning down at me.

We’d been wracking our brains, trying to figure out why the Blood Sultanate seemed to have so few troops available. We assumed they were in the naga stronghold, waiting for our attack. When Elle and Edgar had penetrated into their territory, they’d seen no signs of them.

I now knew exactly where those troops were. Well, I didn’t know where they were. But I did know their status.

I started to laugh. On my shoulder, Ferdinand, who didn’t know what the hell was going on, also started to laugh.

They were dead. The Blood Sultanate was almost defeated already, and they were trying to hide it.

I didn’t know how the soldiers were dead, but I had no doubt most of the mercenaries and NPCs assigned to the Blood Sultanate had all died, likely just as the hostilities had begun.

I also knew Operation: Snake Pit was already fucked. Hopefully everyone involved was okay.

I continued to laugh as everyone but Odette looked upon me like I was having a mental breakdown. I laughed so hard, tears started to run down my face.    

“Wait,” Donut suddenly said. She gasped. “Blood Hunter. Is that the show with the pterodactyl and the vampire hunter guy? The one who...” She trailed off.

Donut looked Vinata up and down, and for the first time, addressed the naga princess directly. “Oh, honey. And I thought I was going to be the one who killed you.” She licked her paw and groomed herself for a short moment. “In the eternal words of my mulleted friend, Holger. You done stuck your pecker in the wrong beehive.”

~~~

Hey everyone! Thanks to all who came and visited me at Crypticon last weekend. Hope to see more of you in Charlotte for ConCarolinas coming up in a few weeks. Thanks again for all your support.

Carl and Donut sure are amazed at this final revelation, but I sure hope it doesn't end up hurting them in the long run. For this chapter, I had to go back and add a few minor additions to earlier chapters, emphasizing the strangeness of the lack of Blood Sultanate troops on the front, and downplaying any existing mentions of troops.