Chapter 4
Technically, the ladder down from the small shack in the fifth floor did indeed lead to the sixth. He’d tweaked that from his previous design, purely for theatrical purposes. James had opted for a little more flare when it came to how adventurers would first experience the floor.
Presentation, he’d come to realize, was everything when it came to floor development. Just like he had his ‘Welcome to Jurassic City’ sign by where players were spawned on the second, he’d wanted something special for this floor.
That meant, the players climbing down the ladder shifted from the fifth floor to the sixth floor, just before they reached the base of the ladder. The path downwards was dark, meaning unless they had a torch or some sort of artificial light spell, they really wouldn’t be able to visually tell. Instead, they’d just experience the strange tingling as they passed through the portal, and then of course, if they were paying attention, they’d have the new floor countdown trigger. As it was the sixth floor, they’d have six hours to clear the floor, escape it, or die, before they were removed from the floor. Considering who the boss was, and its mechanic… James highly doubted anyone would ever… EVER… spend six hours on the sixth floor.
The ladder itself, now in the sixth floor for the players, reached downwards and ended in a stone room fifteen by fifteen feet. There were no windows. No furniture. Only four walls, a single stone doorway, and flickering torches.
This room, was the room Z and his party now stood in. Even though the space was larger than the abandoned shack above, it still seemed extremely crowded thanks to their party size. Anyone heading down with a proper raiding party, would find themselves overflowing from the room before everyone arrived. Or, they’d be stuck together like sardines, waiting to burst out into the sixth floor proper the moment someone managed to open the door.
“Any guesses on what’s behind that door?” Oak grumbled as he looked at his party. He’d already steeled himself once for going into the unknown. Now that they’d reached the small room, and it had all been for nought, James was certain he was preparing himself once more.
“No idea,” Z said, his trademark grin evident to James in the flickering torch light. As the Dungeon Core, if he really wanted to, he could turn the brightness up on the feed he was streaming currently to Rue, Steve…and of course all of the other Dungeon Cores out there. Rue was running media relations real time, of course, and Steve, well, Steve was snacking on popcorn as they watched the inaugural run of the sixth floor. James couldn’t help but wonder what The Knights Who Go Ni would think about their antics being streamed to so many people without their knowing. Ah well, it was Immersion, and they’d said all the appropriate waivers and checked all the boxes when they agreed to play DCO, just like everyone else.
“Whatever it is,” Elm began, “it’s likely preferable to this small space. If we have to stay in here much longer,” his nose scrunched, “I’m afraid I may pass out from the smell of Hornz. Are you sure the stench doesn’t cause a debuff Z?”
Z looked from the aforementioned pet, back to Elm, and shrugged. “Not my fault the devs decided to add the stench. And hey, look on the bright side. Being able to smell such strong scents is part of what makes DCO so top notch. Seriously, my senses are sharper here than they have been in the real world since before I deployed.”
The others nodded in agreement. It was one of the most common claims everyone agreed was true about DCO. It felt ‘real’. More real than anything that had come before it. DCO was the closest thing to living, true living, within a virtual world that anyone had experienced to date in the era of full immersion.
“Let’s get going Oak,” Z said, his bow drawn, an arrow nocked and at the ready. The arrow itself was tipped with skeletal bones, and a little bag of gunpowder. An arrow that many players had begun to craft from fourth floor drops, that not only had a heavy impact, but exploded and caused a bit of fire damage, with a potential to stun or blind the target. Because the fourth floor mobs were skeletons… bones were a pretty common drop for players to craft with. And because they were high level mobs, the bones they dropped were usually of a pretty high quality, making these arrows a good go to. The explosive pouches, added to the arrows thanks to the gunpowder players could farm up from the pirate mob drops, and the Skull Fort itself, were also extremely effective against well, skeletons. It was pretty common now for archers to try and get their arrows into the skull of one of the mobs, as doing so had a chance to completely shatter the skull, and one-shot the creatures.
His bow, on the other hand, glowed and hummed with energy. It came from the fifth floor, and was a special compound bow enhanced with cybernetic energy. From what James remembered of it, it had the ability to add a small bit of magical lightning damage to the arrows. The rest of his party, of course, was geared in similar ways. Nothing they had was basic, nothing they used didn’t apply at least some sort of special damage or special effect. Which, was good, considering what the sixth-floor was about to throw at them.
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“Fine.” Oak stepped up to the door. His shield glowed slightly, as he activated a defensive skill. It was a basic skill, all things considered. One that barely used any of his MP, and just increased his block rate by a percentage, while also increasing the amount of damage a block could absorb before his health was damaged. Cosmetically, it made the dark shield glow, lightning slightly crackling over it. And, it may have been James’s imagination, but it seemed to make the A.L.I.E.N. eyes on the shield blink in a disconcerting way, the pupils shifting too and fro. Which…was creepy as hell.
Without further ado, Oak pushed the door open, the rest of his party members standing behind him, unable to really get into a proper formation due to the size of the door. The wood creaked outwards, showing nothing but darkness. The glow from the torches of the room only reached a few feet outwards, enough to illuminate only the stone path before Oak. The man stepped into the darkness, and as he did, a set of torches sprung to life on either side of him, a good ten feet in either direction. With each step forward, as the players stepped into the expanse behind Oak, the tank cautiously moving forward to grant them space, more torches sprang to life.
This massive hallway, twenty feet in width, extended for a hundred feet, with torches every ten feet of the way. Above them, roughly thirty feet up, the walls met with the ceiling, encasing them in the tunnel. James had added that particular feature to the floor for the purpose of ensuring people with flying mounts or skills couldn’t simply bypass the labyrinth itself. A maze, after all, was useless if people could just fly past it.
Then, at the very end of the tunnel, an archway of stone waited for them. This, was the true start to James’s sixth floor. This archway, ten feet wide, funneled adventurers into the start of the maze. This was the only entrance into the Labyrinth, and across the floor, all the way at the other side, over the massive, sprawling, twisting, turning, eccentric winding of the labyrinth, was an exit with a similar archway.
James had let his artistic nature flair for this next bit. As Oak and the others made their way to the arch, torches of different lights began to flare to life along the stone. It depicted a massive, feathered, serpent. At the base of the arch the serpent was eating an orb made of sapphire. All along the arch, the serpents scales shimmered with colors, different hues caused by various metallic materials James had painstakingly added in, for pure gamer flair.
“That’s, not ominous at all.” Faust said as he looked over the creature.
“Anyone else getting Aztec vibes?” Z asked as he looked at the serpent. “You think Quetzalcoatl is on this floor?”
“Isn’t he a winged serpent?” Faust countered. “I can’t imagine a flying serpent being on this floor.” He pointed at the ceiling above.
“Good point,” Z said with a nod.
“I swear to the gods,” Oak grumbled, a quiver in his voice. There was one thing the tank hated more than anything. Well, actually feared. A phobia that James had seen take hold of the tank on the third floor in fact. “If it’s a freaking snake, I’m done.” His voice was high.
“I thought your exposure therapy was working quite well.” Elm said, slapping Oak on the back. “How many Playthons have given you hugs so far? Aren’t you used to them by now?”
Oak pointed at the serpent on the archway. “That doesn’t look cuddly.” He said with a growl. “And if you think it does, then be my guest and you take point this floor.”
Elm stepped back laughing, “I’m not the tank,” he said, holding his bow up. “I’m a backliner.”
“IF there is a snake,” Z offered to Oak, “I’ll have Hornz cover for you while you steel yourself, yeah? And just remember,” Oak’s eyes flashed with amusement, “the snakes here are likely just as scared of you, as you are of them.”
Oak flipped Z off, took a breath, and then another. “I hate you guys,” he said, and then, he stepped forward, his foot crossing the threshold of the archway. James grinned, practically buzzing with excitement, as Oak did so. This was the final bit of theatrics he’d managed to fit into the floor for now, in between all of the skirmishes, coliseum events, and siege buildup. Originally, the boss was supposed to trigger when players reached the floor. However, he’d found he could tweak that feature, to instead activate its all consuming path, once a certain area was crossed. That area was the sone arch.
The Labyrinth shuddered as Jormun-Grander came to life. The massive serpent, which resided in the very heart of the maze, opened its eyes. Then, its massive mouth slammed shut. The sound reverberated off the walls, echoing as it made its way to Z and the others. The signal that it was beginning its move. Its maw opened again, and it began to move, ever so slowly.
“What the hells was that?” Oak’s voice was panicked. The sound, like a distant drumbeat, had caused him to jump slightly. The others were all tense, waiting, listening. For thirty seconds there was silence. Forty-five seconds, silence.
“Maybe it was nothing?” Z said with a shrug. The moment he spoke, right at the minute mark, the Jormun-Grander’s maw snapped shut once more, the sound echoing again through the halls. Every minute, James knew that sound would spring forth from Jormun-Grander. A signal, he’d realized, of where the creature was. But more than that, the steady, rhythmic heartbeat of James’s Sixth Floor.
“I hate this,” Oak whispered, as he took a deep breath, and stepped further into the dungeon. “I really, really, really, hate this.”