It was in many ways, Ben reflected, like he was on a road trip. The Pocket of Sanctuary, still sadly un-acyronymed, roamed along at a steady if slow pace.
Ben had thought it would be super cool if they could just teleport around with it, like how it had shown up for them in the battle. Simply put, it was expensive and locked onto Ben's location; teleportation wasn't an option for them.
There were about five hours of the skill remaining, and everybody had taken a nap. When Ben had woken up and seen all the aliens and fantasy creatures roaming around in proximity to his old apartment's furniture, he crossed out the old entry for 'Most Surreal Shit I've Ever Seen' and replaced it with the current scene.
Then, because everything electronic was working for some reason, Ben got up, went to his kitchen, and started to brew up a cup of coffee. A big cup of coffee, with milk and honey in it. It smelled like home, and Ben was ready to take a sip. . .
Frankie stole the mug and dumped the coffee out.
It's to Frankie's immense credit that Ben wasn't even mad, because if it was anyone else, he would have been over the top pissed off.
The Utility Pocket Elemental started wiggling and waving his arms and legs around, trying to convey a message in a manner that was impossible to decipher.
“What's that,” Ben said, “I shouldn't drink the coffee?”
More wiggling and indecipherable gestures.
“Wait, all of this stuff is going to vanish when the Pocket of Sanctuary does?”
Frankie did a little thing where he swelled himself up, then rapidly contracted, leaving himself covered in pits and lumps.
“Oh, you mean all the fluids and solids I drank that became a part of me would vanish, leaving me full of holes?” Ben asked, “shit, thanks man. Good save.”
Frankie nodded and then portaled himself away.
“Hey,” Ben called out, “Don't eat or drink anything in here. It'll all vanish when the skill ends, including if it's a part of your body. It'll just vanish right out of your cells, which sounds pretty bad.” Short Bus stood up immediately.
“Excuse me,” he said, then ran outside the Pocket of Sanctuary into the Overcavern Forest, and began to vomit noisily. Several minutes later, he returned.
“I just don't get it,” Short Bus said, wiping his mouth with a towel and then throwing it across the Pocket of Sanctuary, where it landed with the rest of the dirty laundry, “I'm doing this whole quest thing to avenge Betsy, bless her,” he said, a far away look in his eyes, “but it sounds like there's more going on here. What's really so bad about what the gremlins are doing?”
“From what I understand,” Ben said, “what's bad is that they're pulling things at random out of The Beyond, and they could accidentally pull something out of it that. . . could end reality or something?” Vivi slid his way over from where he'd been excitedly talking to Red, having overheard the conversation.
“Correct,” he said, “what they are doing is extremely reckless and dangerous. They're opening portals for the express purpose of causing wanton destruction, tearing open holes in reality to tear open holes in reality, rather than to accomplish anything useful. Plus, they’re pulling over the actual beings themselves, rather than mana-constructs which are controlled by the being.”
“Oh I see,” Ben said.
“While vastly more powerful than mana-constructs, what they are doing is dangerous, the sort of thing only High Summoners attempt. I myself am capable of it, as I’m a genius and a prodigy, but without a familiar and some very specific names, it’s not something I can safely or legally attempt.”
“Right,” Ben said, but then Vivi kept talking.
“Plus, their methods are atrociously inefficient. They don't have bonded familiars, they don't have properly made summoning circles, they probably haven't even heard of a binding spell,” Vivi said laughing, then kept talking, “A real summoner could have gotten over ten times as many creatures through their primitive beyond gates! It's actually extremely interesting what they did however, their methods run counter to most modern summoning theories, and I would know, I mean, I've studied them all, uh, just for academic interest,” he said suddenly, realizing he wasn't making himself sound good, “because summoning is bad, and it's wrong.” Vivi coughed and extracted himself from the conversation.
In the distance, Red had been listening, and had a thoughtful look on her face.
Ben and Short Bus gave each-other a look and didn't say anything. From the other side of the room, Anna's party started to move closer.
“Excuse me,” Dryst said, floating over to Short Bus while talking, “but while you were out there, did you happen to see anything interesting?”
“No,” Short Bus said, pointedly looking away from the Elemental's mesmerizing form. He seemed to be, for the first time in Ben's memory at least, embarrassed.
“It's just,” Dryst continued, now floating over to the general direction of the bulk of both groups, “I find myself wondering if this is the route of maximum profit, simply heading back to Solas with all haste.”
“I heard the word profit,” Anna said.
“I also heard the word profit,” Ben repeated, and the two of them shared a look, and then Ben looked away, because the crystal girl? Woman? Was still naked, and also really good looking. Plus, they had both just been high together, which erased a lot of the comfortable boundaries that exist between strangers. Also, Ben was about eye level with her-
Ben coughed, walked a comfortable distance away, then looked up at her breasts-
Fuck.
At her eyes, Ben, at her fucking eyes! Get yourself together!
“Oh!” Thirty-One said, “yes, I think that's a fine idea. I'll start charting an optimal route.”
“Thirty-One is correct,” Dryst said, “I believe the best use of our travel would be to visit some locations which are normally inhospitable, and which also contain objects and materials which are valued due to the difficulty which one must be subjected to in order to obtain them.”
Ben blinked several times, then looked at Anna for a shorter statement, which she provided.
“The Overcavern Forest is full of treasure, let's go get some while we're in your mobile death fortress.”
“I'm not opposed,” Ben said as he examined his finger nails, “but I'd like to go to the locations with the thickest concentration of monsters.”
The Leap-rechaun prince was glad none of Anna's people could read his mind, and see how close the Pocket of Sanctuary was to reaching one-hundred thousand points; how close Ben's group was from getting a Map of Wish. They were hovering above fifty thousand right now, and the number wasn't rising.
If Ben had to guess, and his guess would be right, he would guess that they weren't gaining points because they weren't in an area of dense mana.
“Also, secondary condition, I'd like to go the routes with the densest concentration of mana.”
“That's perfect,” Anna said, and her team groaned, “that's some real balls right there,” then she winked at him, probably because she'd already seen his balls, “I've been trying to get my pussy shit team to go here all year, but they keep moaning about how we're all going to die.”
“We are going to die!” Thirty-One shouted.
“Not anymore we aren't,” Anna said and slapped the Pocket of Sanctuary, “this bad boy's going to just march right through and dominate.”
“Would I be able to jump out of here and fight some stuff?” Short Bus asked, making sure someone got the important questions answered.
“Oh yeah,” Anna said, “oh yeah. I like this guy, what are you, some kind of super gray? Fucking hate grays, don't say yes.”
“I'm a Man-Shark,” Short Bus said, poking himself in his heavily muscled chest with a thick, powerful thumb, “fuck grays.”
“Fuck grays,” Ben agreed.
“Please don't encourage her,” Dryst said.
“I'm feeling pretty encouraged right now,” Anna said, making eye-contact with Ben, sizing him up, then looking a little disappointed he wasn't taller.
“Well, anything that gets me outside and moving,” Short Bus said, stretching his arms over head, then looked at Ben.
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“What's it called?” Ben asked.
“If she says The Gloom, say no Ben. Just say no,” Ghost Ears cut into the conversation, flying over to Ben's shoulder and sitting there, “Oh, and by the way, this [Evolution] skill,” he whispered, “is it going to make me get much larger?”
“I guess,” Ben whispered back, “but you usually get options. Why, want to get taller?”
“I've considered it, but I'm not happy about being level 1 again. I lost most of my skills! I wasn't warned about that.”
“You'll get 'em back,” Ben whispered back.
“Hello? Anyone there?” Anna asked, and to Ben's ears the way she said it sounded familiar. Like a phone call meme.
“Is it The Gloom?” Ben asked, and Anna's eyes went wide.
“Oh man, are you saying-”
“I'm saying no to The Gloom, wherever that is,” Ben said.
“Oh, well, no, it's not The Gloom. There's a newly discovered dungeon around here, Red Core. It's an absolute nightmare to get to, and nobody's been able to clear it and claim the core.”
Ben looked over at Vivi and called him over with a motion of his head.
“Red Core?” Vivi asked, sliding over and speaking in an academic tone of voice, “and the species?”
“Bugs, obviously. Lots and lots of bugs, big, powerful, valuable, dumbass bugs.”
“Ugh,” Vivi said, making a face, “disgusting. I'm in, let's exterminate them. What's so hard about getting to the dungeon?”
“Uh, it's in the Overcavern Forest,” she said, then added, “and surrounded by big, powerful bugs.” Ben nodded because that seemed obvious now.
“Prince Ben,” Red interjected, “our quest to kill the gremlins?”
“Has not been forgotten Red.”
“Out of curiosity, which direction is this ‘dungeon’ you are speaking of?” Red asked, looking at Anna.
“Um,” she said, then went outside the Pocket of Sanctuary with Red for a moment, and then the two of them came back.
“I’m in,” Red said, “that’s the direction the Gremlins are fleeing, at least the one I marked.”
“Fuck, really?” Ben said.
“Yes.”
“Well that’s convenient,” Ben said.
“Fuck yes it’s convienent!” Anna said, “We’re going to get treasure, gear, all kinds of good stuff!”
“And also some pants that aren't going to vanish when this skill ends,” Ben muttered, realizing his towel was going to Cinderella itself in about five hours.
The man had been clothed for only a few hours and he was already addicted! His royal presence is the only thing he needs to garb himself with!
Ben blinked a couple of times, the oddest sensation having run through his brain. It was as though, just for a moment, his skill [The Prince Needs No Clothes], had revealed itself as an autonomous intelligence living in his mind and shared its opinion with him.
“Vivi, I have a question for you about skills eventually, but first, let's put it to a vote,” Ben said, and his crown grew cold for a moment, and he felt himself grow weaker, “fucking class bullshit,” Ben said, but committed to taking a vote anyways. “All in favor of taking a detour to this. . . what's it called?”
“The Pestilent Hive of Horror,” Anna said, sounding excited.
“Ugh, to the Pestilent Hive of Horror, raise your hands.”
Anna, Short Bus, and Vivi raised their hands. Then, when Ghost Ears saw Vivi had voted yes, he raised his hand as well. Red felt left out, so she raised her hand too.
“All opposed?” Ben asked, then Dryst and Thirty-One raised their hands.
“I'm not confident at all in this plan,” Thirty-One said.
“I'm opposed, we could be ambushed in the middle of an unknown and dangerous dungeon,” Dryst said.
“You'll notice Prince Ben,” Anna said, adding air quotes around Prince, “that my boys back there don't have a testicle between them. You didn't vote, what says you? We won't even have to leave this amazing fucking fortress. We'll be able to just march through the dungeon, no problem, and claim the treasure. No worrying about traps, no worrying about monsters, just pure profit.”
In response, Ben pulled himself up, squared his shoulders, straightened his back, planted his feet firmly on the ground and, with all the royal presence one can muster while wearing a shitty cast iron crown and a literal dirty towel, [Proclaimed].
“We will go forth and conquer the Pestilent Hive of Horror.”
His crown grew hot, and he felt two things happen; first, power, pure power, flooded his body. He felt very strong, and his crown groaned and visibly twisted from the energy that surged through it, turning light orange brightening to white.
Second, he felt a Sword of Damocles. Not literally, but metaphorically, hanging over his head. Through the subtle and intricate mechanisms of his class, he understood that if he succeeded, if he made good on his [Proclamation], he would keep the power he just gained.
If he failed, the power would be lost, and he would be permanently weakened, and his class would downgrade.
“[Royalty gambles with power and authority],” his class spoke softly, powerfully, to his very soul. Nobody else noticed this, except Frankie, who was a part of Ben's soul, and Frankie had already accepted the whispers of the Prince class as a fact of life.
“Fuck!” Anna said, taking a step back like she'd just been hit by an unexpected blast of wind. Dryst and Thirty-One both visibly reacted in similar ways. Red watched them with a curious expression, and turned her eyes, but not her head, to look questioningly at Ghost Ears. The movement of her eyes was starkly contrasted with the complete lack of body movement to accompany it, and not for the first or last time, Ben kind of got the heebie-jeebies from being around her.
“Ghost Ears,” she said, her voice always possessing an exterior of raw emotion, like she could cry at any moment. Though, she seemed unlikely to cry, ever, for anybody. Just one of those voices.
“Ah, yes?” The true-elf fairy answered, and it was clear from the brief, startled expression on his face that Red also possessed a bit of a fright factor for him as well.
“Why were we not affected as they were?”
“I. . . I don't know,” Ghost Ears admitted, looking from Anna's group, to their own. He examined his own being, and noticed he felt. . . strong. Energetic. Powerful.
“Red, dearest,” Vivi said, sliding over to her and positioning his body so he was close. In that moment, Ghost Ears and Ben both realized nobody in their group ever got within arms reach of Red, except for Vivi.
Red turned her head along with her eyes to look at Vivi.
“Ghost Ears has many commendable qualities, but I doubt an academic education is one of them. We are members of Ben's kingdom; his authority can never hurt us.”
“Never?” she asked, eyebrows going up.
“Never. [Princes], [Princesses], [Kings] and [Queens], they're tremendously difficult to kill at any level, but they are vulnerable to their subjects. Only [Tyrants] and their ilk have power over their subjects, and they in turn are vulnerable to the world. Many a royal, a true royal, has been cut down by those who have sworn their undying loyalty. They may order us, but they cannot hurt us with it. Remember this, and protect your Prince.”
“With my life,” Red practically growled, and then Ben coughed in an uncomfortable way again.
Anna looked from Red, to Ben, then back to Red, then back to Ben.
“I don't get this shit at all,” she said quietly to herself, then louder, “Great!”, then much louder, and with great enthusiasm, “GREAT! Woooooo!” she screamed like an excited teenage girl, “We're going to clear an unknown dungeon! Bronze rank here – we – come!”
“I'm terrified,” Dryst said.
“I suspect the time for my corpse contract will be soon. Be sure to carry my body to the adventurers guild for me old friend?” Thirty-One asked, and Dryst, lacking any kind of body language capability, still seemed to nod. It was just uncanny how well those two managed to express their emotions with their extremely alien bodies.
“Frankie,” Ben said, his voice almost ringing with authority, “set a course for the Pestilent Hive of Horrors!”
–
Their first indication they were close appeared when the Pocket of Sanctuary stepped into a patch of forest that looked. . . gnawed. The trees, as large as sky-scrapers, looked soft and infested. From a distance they looked like any trees with bugs in them, cavities under the bark, wood showing through in places. Once they got closer they could see that their first impressions were correct, it was the scale of the damage that they had gotten wrong. Those were some big trees, and some big bugs.
The Pocket walked on cosmetically mechanical legs, charging heedless into the woods, its pilots convinced of its utter invincibility.
The first swarm was a pack of flies that looked like they'd been bred for war. They had long, sharp legs, armored bodies of chitin with hard razor wire hairs covering everything. They had red compound eyes that could shoot needle thin beams of red light that burned and created explosions.
Their mouths spat acid and had rotating razor sharp teeth.
There were thousands of them. They descended on the Pocket of Sanctuary, attacking with a frenzy. The Pocket was greedy and grabbed them, one by one, marching on, killing them as quickly as its many arms could grab them while it was mobbed from all directions.
Nothing could hurt it.
Inside, Ben and everyone cheered, watching as the terrible monsters were thwarted.
Ben noticed it first when the electronics of his fake apartment turned off. The light inside was fading, and with a start, Ben realized they were going to run out of mana.
His eyes went wide, and they felt it the moment it happened. The pocket kept walking, but the tentacles stopped working. Flies flew furious, fighting to be fed, to eat.
“Brace yourselves,” Ben shouted, as the first one landed in front of the Pocket of Sanctuary and looked inside of it.
It was. . . unintelligent for any other creature, but for an insect? It was smart enough to fly through the entrance.
It was half the size of an adult human. It charged and was met by the aggression of eight magical alien creatures, Ben included.
It didn't hurt anyone, or last very long. Its body vanished before their eyes, the lights turned back on, and the tentacles started attacking.
Then, they turned off again, and another fight ensued. This time, two flew in. They were taken out without much of a struggle.
The reprieve they received was brief, only marginally longer than the first.
The War Flies were stupid as fuck when compared to pretty much anything. But they weren't so stupid that they couldn't recognize a basic pattern.
The next time the Pocket of Sanctuary shut down, the War Flies swarmed.