Mistrunner 4 - Chapter 9 - The Palace (Patreon)

In my world – or any of the worlds colonized by my people – I am not a popular man. Tucked safely away in the Core Worlds, they can’t understand why I would dedicate my life to fighting on the frontier. To them, these people aren’t…well…people. They’re, at best, statistics. At worst, little more than animals meant to be tamed. Or pests to be exterminated. I’ve spent my life trying to change that perception, but everything is so far away from their comfortable little worlds that they can’t make the connections necessary to change.

Alistaris Kargat

The emerald forest had devolved into a wasteland of multi-colored glass, melted by my efforts and reformed as everything cooled. I remarked, “It’s actually kind of pretty, in a…you know…deconstructed kind of way.”

“Only you would say that,” Patrick muttered from within his armor. “It’s just a puddle of glass, now.”

“Yeah.”

“But it was so amazing before. I mean, I know it was full of dangerous and deadly creatures, but you have to admit that all those crystal trees were amazing,” he said. “And now? It’s all gone.”

I shrugged. “It’s changed, not gone. Different doesn’t mean worse.”

But I knew he wouldn’t agree with that assessment. Patrick was nothing if not committed to order. He liked it when everything fit together into a cohesive whole. The forest had been like that before. Now, from his perspective, it had all been destroyed. I thought the opposite, and I could certainly find beauty in the chaotic mess I’d created. In fact, I found it even more enticing than before, if only because it wasn’t so constructed and clearly contrived.

In any case, we continued on, trekking through what had once been the emerald forest as we made our way toward the palace in the distance. For miles, the landscape was mostly unchanged, and then we reached the edge of the destruction I’d wrought. Suddenly, the trees were back, towering higher than ever before, but there were no monsters or wildlife to speak of. Sure, every now and again, I’d see a crystal squirrel or something of the like, but those weren’t aggressive, so they felt more like set pieces than actual creatures.

But that feeling wasn’t abnormal. Every time I entered a Rift, it felt less real than the last. Some of that was due to the contrived nature, but now that I was a {Mist Warden} I felt like I could see the underpinnings. I couldn’t. Obviously. But there were hints here and there that made me feel like I was walking through someone else’s playground.

That feeling persisted as we approached the palace. It was much larger than my previous observation suggested, mostly because it was further away than I’d thought. So, as we drew closer, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe, if only at the sheer size on display. However, as with everything else so far, it felt somehow empty. Like I was looking at a photo, rather than experiencing a three-dimensional space.

Or perhaps that was just because I could see the framework of Mist that that supported everything in my line of sight. Even so, I knew just how dangerous Rifts could be. Whether or not the setting was real seemed irrelevant to its lethality. So, I kept my wits about me as we slowly continued on our way.

It was a good thing, too, because if I’d let my mind wander for even a second longer, there’s a good chance that both Patrick and I would have died. As it was, I saw the shimmer of a Mist aura only a few moments before the creature pounced, tearing out of some Stealth variant to ambush me.

Having been warned by the thing’s aura, I was ready for it, though. So, I met its attack with my hastily summoned nano-bladed sword. Mist-infused blade met crystal, and with a crack that sounded like shattering glass, the blade won. I barely had a chance to see the monster before its head tumbled free, and the rest of its body tackled me to the ground. I wrestled free of the spasming creature, but it quickly became apparent that it was already dead and the movement was merely its death throes.

“What the hell was that?” Patrick asked, his voice breathless.

I pushed myself to my feet, then nudged the twitching monster with my foot. Like everything else in the Rift, it was made of crystal, but in this creature’s case, it was pitch-black in color. Otherwise, it looked far sleeker than anything else I’d seen so far, with flesh made of articulating crystals that looked like scales. Beyond that, it had the roughly feline shape.

“Crystal cat,” I said.

“That can’t be what it’s really called.”

I shrugged. “Can’t say it isn’t appropriate, though. It looks kind of like a panther. But, you know, crystal. So, crystal cat.”

“You’re really bad at naming things.”

I tossed a grin his way, then said, “I guess I can stomach not being good at one little thing. Nobody’s perfect.”

After that, Patrick and I continued on our way, but now, we were both on the lookout for the stealthy crystal cats. A good thing, too, because it felt like we couldn’t go more than a few dozen feet without being attacked. So, the rest of our trip took far longer than either of us had anticipated, and by the time we finally reached the glittering palace, we were both exhausted. So, I asked, “Do you want to camp out here? Or inside?”

“Here,” Patrick answered. “I need to regenerate some of my Mist, and I don’t think it’s smart to go into the palace where we don’t know what we’ll encounter.”

I agreed with that, and over the next few minutes, we set out our various defenses. First came a basic Mist shield that created a dome of protection around us. It wouldn’t dissuade a determined attacker – indeed, one of those crystal cats could get through it with only a couple of swipes – but it would serve to warn us of any intruders. On top of that, it gave my Bastion ability something to latch onto.

After using that, I deployed a couple of auto-turrets; again, they weren’t intended to kill potential attackers. Rather, they were only supposed to slow down and distract while Patrick and I responded.

Finally, I set up a decent-quality holographic display that would hopefully camouflage us from anything that might stumble into the camp’s vicinity. Individually, none of our defenses were terribly strong. And yet, together, they were capable of giving us the edge we needed to respond to any threats. More importantly, they gave us peace of mind, which would be important if either of us intended to get any sort of rest.

Once the defenses had been deployed, Patrick climbed out of the armor. As always, I couldn’t help but notice his cybernetic parts. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d hidden them beneath faux skin, but he almost wore the bulky, obviously mechanical pieces with pride. More, the lack of fake skin gave him the access he needed to continuously study and improve upon them. So, I couldn’t really argue with the logic of keeping them exposed, even if I’d have preferred a different aesthetic.

Or maybe I just hated being reminded that, ultimately, his injuries had been my fault. It would have been so much easier if, every time I looked at him, it wasn’t a reminder of the unintended consequences of my actions. Sure, I hadn’t meant to bring that building down. When I’d used that Ghost to disconnect the Pacificians from their local hive mind, there was no way I could have known that they would self-destruct. But that was what had happened. And without my actions, thousands of innocents would have survived.

“What are you thinking?” Patrick asked after he’d finished the inspection of his armor. It had a subtle self-repair function, but it was limited in scope. Thankfully, none of the damage exceeded its capabilities, and it would be as good as new after a few more hours in his storage space.

“Nothing,” I lied. That last thing he wanted to hear was me complaining about things no one could change. It was better to keep that to myself. “Just thinking about what the rest of this Rift has in store. It’ll probably end somewhere in the palace.”

“Probably. But at least we won’t see any more of those huge golems in there. I don’t think they’d fit.”

“I don’t think we were meant to kill them,” I said.

“Huh? Really?”

“Think about it. Do you think those crab people –”

“Crutacaans.”

“Yeah, them. Do you think they fought those golems? No. There was probably another way around,” I said.

“They might’ve had some kind of tech to make it easier.”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

I knew good and well that the aliens were equipped with technology meant to streamline the Rift mining process. For some, it was gear specifically designed to combat whatever challenges the Rifts presented. That kind of strategy required copious scouting and, more often than not, a good deal of sacrifice. But once they were armed with that information, the aliens had the contacts to commission tailor-made workarounds. And since they’d been at it for decades, they’d long since perfected the process.

We had no such advantages. Even if we could have figured out the Crutacaans’ methods, they would have been useless to us, largely because those strategies were only suited for the specific aliens who’d commissioned them. So, we couldn’t even steal them and repurpose the technology for ourselves.

It made Rift mining an extremely dangerous process, which I had to admit, was probably by design.

I sighed, and after sharing a meal of mostly tasteless travel rations with Patrick, I took the first watch while he tried to get some rest. After a few hours – during which nothing happened – we switched places, and I forced myself to sleep. It was telling that, even in such a dangerous environment, I had no issues with that. I’d slept in much worse situations, after all.

Without a day-night cycle, it was a little difficult to judge time, and without my interface, there’s every chance that I would have lost track.  But soon enough, it was clear that we needed to move on. We weren’t on a timer, per se, but we both wanted to complete the Rift as soon as possible. That way, we could move on to the fun stuff like getting new skills, weapons, and cybernetics.

With that in mind, Patrick and I cleaned up our campsite, gathering the auto-turrets, Mist shield apparatus, and the holographic display. He stored it all away, mostly because he had far more space than I did. The extra slots in my arsenal implant had grown alongside [Mist-Infused Body], but they couldn’t hold a candle to Patrick’s more dedicated skill-attached storage space.

Soon, we were on our way, circling the palace grounds as we searched for an entrance. The structure was enormous, though I was a little disappointed that, even close up, it wasn’t very detailed. Like the golems, it looked like someone had only half-finished a sculpture. Or in this case, a building. Sure, the basic shape was there, but it was too rough to be considered complete.

Eventually, our search bore fruit, and we found our way to a huge, open gate that allowed for access into the palace. So, without further hesitation, Patrick and I stepped inside. The moment we did, the world shimmered. I reached out to grab Patrick’s arm, but I quickly realized that he wasn’t there.

I admit that I panicked, then.

Fortunately, it only lasted a few seconds before he reappeared right beside me.

“What the hell?” he muttered, the fleshy side of his face going pale.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

Then, I looked back the way we’d come, and instead of seeing a gate, there was nothing but a solid wall of crystal. It only took me a moment to surmise that the gate hadn’t been a mundane door, but rather, a portal similar to the one we’d used to enter the Rift in the first place. However, because it didn’t have the benefit of being stabilized by the mechanical aperture, passage through the portal had been a little disconcerting.

I explained all of that to Patrick, and he nodded along, clearly having come to the same conclusions. I ended with, “Well, I guess there’s no way to go but forward.”

With that, I looked around, taking stock of the current environment. It looked like the entry hall of a palace, but on theme, it was one that seemed too rough to have really existed. The floor was the only part that wasn’t made of crystal, and instead, was constructed of crude tiles in alternating colors. There were no decorations. No sculptures, tapestries, or paintings on the walls. Instead, it was entirely barren, which made the entire place feel almost like a natural formation rather than something that had been built.

“You’d better put on your suit,” I said. “I think this is going to suck.”

“You mean worse than it has so far?” he asked, already summoning his armor.

As he climbed inside, I said, “Probably. I mean, they do typically get more difficult.”

“I did kind of get crushed yesterday.”

“Only a little,” I said. “You made it out just fine.”

Of course, I left unsaid that, at the time, I’d thought he’d died, and I had gone on a bit of a rampage. But that wasn’t something I wanted to revisit. Far easier to simply make light of the situation.

As Patrick mounted the mech suit, then sealed himself inside, I summoned my R-14. Of late, it had become increasingly less powerful, and I suspected that the only reason it remained even moderately effective was due to my modifiers and abilities. With that in mind, I also used Explosive Shot to increase the damage of each round in the magazine. Hopefully, that would go a long way toward alleviating its weakness, but I knew it would be a hole in my arsenal until I earned enough credits to replace it with something better. The same could be said for my Pulsar, and I needed to replace the Dragon as well. In short, my arsenal wasn’t what it once was, and I desperately needed to address the issues.

But that was a problem for after the Rift. For the time being, I had no choice but to work with what I had. In a Rift as strong as the one we’d challenged, that meant I’d have to use multiple magazines to down any foes.

“Stay here while I scout things out,” I said.

Patrick didn’t argue, instead unfolding the rebuilt Dragon from his back and perching it on his shoulder. On one arm pulsed a blue Mist shield, while the other had transformed into his long blade. He was as ready as he could be for anything that might stumble upon him. So, assured of his relative safety, I embraced Stealth and stalked through the entry hall and to the corridor leading deeper into the palace.

I found the first enemy less than a minute later, and at first, I didn’t even recognize it. If it weren’t for my {Mist Warden} senses, I probably would have walked right past the pile of crystals. However, because I could see its aura, the thing stood out like a sore thumb. Still, it wasn’t until I used Distraction, resulting in a slight clicking sound at the other end of the hall, that I saw it for what it was.

The thing burst forward, a whirling dervish of floating crystals. It was just a ball of dense Mist and crystals, but it moved like a tornado with five different axes. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to see how it would attack because, after it seemed to recognize that there was nothing there, it quickly settled back down.

Carefully, I crept past it and continued on my way.

Over the next couple of hours, I saw ten more of the crystal dervishes, though I didn’t antagonize any of them. Instead, I focused on mapping the palace as best I could, which proved an arduous task due to the sheer size and maze-like construction of the building. Still, I managed to accomplish the feat after half a day. The whole time, I kept in touch with Patrick, who remained, nervous and waiting, back at the entrance.

Eventually, though, I found a door, which was impeded by a thick Mist shield. Along the frame were twelve slots, each one about four inches across and in the rough shape of a Rift shard. I tried to use Misthack on the thing, hoping it had some sort of interface, but it was useless.

“Are you sure you found all the dervishes?” Patrick asked via Secure Connection.

“I don’t know,” I replied, still cloaked in Stealth. “Maybe? I didn’t explore the whole palace. Why?”

“Well, you found eleven of them, right? If there’s one more out there, that might be the correlation we’re looking for,” he said. “Maybe those slots are like locks, and when we kill the dervishes, it’ll unlock.”

I was about to reply that that didn’t make any sense, but then I remembered that Rifts weren’t like the real world. They featured challenges with clear means of overcoming them. I’d never really cared of puzzles or games, so that probably explained why I didn’t really care for Rifts, either.

Or maybe it was the mortal danger.

Either way, because of the contrived nature of the Rifts, Patrick’s suggestion made a ton of sense. So, I quickly embarked on a search for the extra dervish, which I found less than an hour later in an out-of-the-way corner of the palace. I didn’t stop there, though. I wanted to make sure there were no others before I latched onto Patrick’s plan.

“I think you’re right,” I said after a while. “Which is a problem.”

“Huh? I thought solving the puzzle was a good thing,” he said.

“Oh, it is. But now we need to figure out how to kill balls of Mist and crystal, right? And without bringing the whole building down on top of us,” I said.

“Oh. Yeah. I can see how that might be a problem.”