Chapter 65: The Lost
Tuesday, April 11th, 1:54 PM
Dungeon Ciara
After finding only basic metal deposits in the first tunnel, Karen and Tony ducked into the next.
Tony griped, “Fucking bullshit maze. This place is—”
A deep growl from up ahead cut him off and they slowed to draw their weapons.
Edging closer with his hammer ready to strike, Tony was shocked when Karen slammed into him from behind amid a peal of thunder, causing them both to tumble across the rough stone floor.
After they slid to a halt and he saw no visible threats, Tony stood and hauled Karen to her feet. But her body was limp.
“Karen? Karen, what the hell?” He shook her, then let her fall to call her bluff, but she crumpled to the floor. Then he noticed an arrow sticking out from the back of her head.
It pierced her armor.
Tony shuddered. Their empowered armor was tough enough to stop most rifle bullets.
It’s that damned sniper.
“Fuck,” Tony whispered. Karen would revive and she could eventually reach this place again, but now, the government was their enemy.
Worse, he was likely up against two E-Rank marines, and he’d given the order that got Joe’s girlfriend killed.
Tony figured he could probably handle the others one-on-one in close combat, but Joe was a monster. He cursed his luck, but resolved to do as much damage to this Dungeon’s psyche as possible.
If he could tip her off balance by the time he reached the core, Tony’s job would be easier. To do that, he’d need to make the marines fight each other to the death.
Tony grabbed Karen’s daggers and shoved them into the extra loops in his belt, then headed farther in until he came to a fork in the tunnel. Hiding in the tunnel that opened to the left, Tony waited for his enemies to come within range of his ability.
He cursed the fact that his darkness vision was useless in this place, since he needed a line of sight within ten meters for his skill to work. That would change forever if he could access the core. Still, he took comfort in the improved low-light vision he’d acquired at E-Rank.
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With razor-focused hatred, Mike stalked into the tunnel to Joe’s right. Mike had his compound bow drawn and ready, while Joe kept his right hand on the grip of his sheathed katana.
Judging by the size and shape of the body up ahead, his arrow had slain Karen.
Shit. We needed her alive.
Mike was surprised that her helmet and head had stopped his arrow.
Granted, he’d made the shot from over two kilometers and had to bounce it off a tunnel wall, hoping to strike one of them. That bled off a huge amount of energy and caused the arrow to glance upward resulting in a kill instead of a wounding shot to her lower legs. Still, the physical resilience of Karen’s body and armor were impressive. And disturbing.
The man with her was neither large nor imposing, but Ciara had said he was responsible for slaughtering those university students on the first floor. They’d been identified as the six who killed Peanut, and the seventh was one of their friends.
Intent and lack of hesitation were powerful weapons in capable, malicious hands. Mike stalked forward slowly.
[Tony’s hiding in a tunnel just ahead to your left. He hasn’t drawn his weapons, so he might try some kind of magic. I’ve got a minion standing by if anything goes wrong.]
She’d never do anything to hurt my boy or Rihelah… right?
Mike wanted to believe that. He knew he should, after everything he’d seen, but doubt crept back in.
He noticed something was wrong when he felt suspicious of Joe as well. His best friend had been nothing but trustworthy since the day they met.
“Fucker’s using some kind of mind magic,” Mike whispered.
A startled yelp came from ahead, and Tony collapsed into the passage, his helmet tumbling away as the shifting outline of a massive cat pinned him down with its jaws around his neck. He tried to reach for his weapons, but the cat shook Tony and he screamed.
The doubt about Joe in Mike’s mind vanished without a trace, proving without any doubt it had been Tony’s doing.
[I know the most logical thing would be to kill him, but we should see if he can bring Michael and Rihelah back. Devilflies are inbound to tie him up. Just get him ready.]
Scowling, Mike rushed forward with Joe and disarmed the man while the tiger growled—although, it backed away to give them room. Tony’s face and neck were lacerated, but no arteries had been punctured. He would live.
They tossed the enemy’s weapons aside and Joe stabbed his katana into Tony’s wrists, targeting tendons to disable his hands.
The man screamed, but Mike felt no compassion. This man and his boss had taken Mike’s son and his future daughter-in-law away. Unless they returned them, no amount of suffering would ever be enough.
Holding his katana’s point in front of Tony’s nose, Joe said, “You try any more mind-magic crap, and you’ll wish you hadn’t. Stand your dumb ass up and keep your arms at your sides.”
Glaring at Joe, Tony fumbled awkwardly to his feet, favoring his injured hands.
Ciara’s ten new, blackbird-sized Devilflies orbited Tony at high speed. After a few seconds he was bound tight, but the minions kept wrapping.
She’s so thorough.
Mike felt uneasy as he considered the size difference between himself and Joe.
Big-ass fucker could snap anyone’s neck like a twig. I should keep my distance, just in case.
Mike found himself unconsciously nocking an arrow and as he forced himself to stop he saw red.
“He’s doing that mind shit again,” Mike snapped.
Tony’s eyes widened just before Joe’s fist crushed his bottom jaw, knocking the man out cold.
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[I have an idea for how to handle Tony. It’s not going to be pretty, and I’ll need both of you to tell him some things just before my Canopy Crawlers string him up by his feet, but—]
“Are you going to spare him?” President Thomas asked.
Why in the world would we spare him?
[I don’t know, Mister President. He murdered people in cold blood.]
Thomas narrowed his eyes. “It sounds like you intend to torture him.”
[I am going to torture him until he talks. They made two of my residents disappear.]
The President pinched the bridge of his nose. “Torture is banned under the Geneva Conventions, Miss O’Connor.”
[How else do you propose we handle someone who’s hostile to our country, who can manipulate the minds of others? Any of your staff who aren’t E-Rank won’t stand a chance against him. Even Mike, who’s—]
Aron Thomas glowed blue, and a smile spread across his face. “It seems our need has provided a solution. As a Champion of the People, I just gained immunity from mental attacks and the ability to discern lies from truth.”
[Really? That’s convenient. Bring him back to the castle, Joe. The President just gained a class.]
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but do you mind if I test my ability on you, Ciara?” asked Thomas.
[That’s fine. But I have an idea what you’re going to ask, so I’ll just tell you outright. The only reason you’re all still alive is that I managed to regain control from my instinct. The Dungeon in me is an apex predator, Mister President. It’s a delicate balance, maintaining my sanity. I know that’s not something you want to hear, but it’s the truth.]
Thomas smiled. “I appreciate you being above board about that, though the past thirty minutes already made that abundantly clear. But I’d like some help testing something. If you would tell me a simple lie about your life before the war? I need some baseline for how this new ability helps me to recognize falsehoods.”
[When the bombs fell, I owned a Toyota.]
“I see. That felt like a lie.”
[It was. My actual car was a BMW. Would you like a big lie?]
“Please.”
[I was a tall, confident woman and a social butterfly.]
“Wow. Okay, that almost hurt to listen to. It seems I can tell quite easily when someone is lying and have a sense for the severity of the lie. Fascinating. How about skirting the truth and lying by omission?”
I helped Thomas test his new abilities until Joe neared the basement with Tony, who sneered with hate and defiance.
“Thank you, marines. You may wait outside. I’m immune to mind magic, and Ciara will protect me. I’ll handle this man,” said the President as Joe entered after Mike, with Tony over one shoulder.
Joe and Mike replied, “Aye, sir.”
A glint of victory shone in Tony’s eyes as Joe laid him face up across the dining table, though the man’s half-healed face was fixed in a scowl. Claw marks across his brow and punctures in his cheeks had scabbed over and stopped bleeding.
Two Canopy Crawlers tied him firmly to the table when the marines departed, and Tony’s eyes grew less confident as the spiders worked and he found himself unable to move anything but his neck.
The President sat across the room from Tony and asked, “Mister Marchant, were you or Miss Felt responsible for the disappearance of the young couple from this room?”
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Tony was silent as one of my Canopy Crawlers climbed onto Tony’s face and snapped its fangs in front of his eyes. The traitor said nothing, but the terror in his eyes was hard to miss.
“Tony, we’d rather not stoop to anything that breaks the Geneva Conventions, so please, answer the question.”
Clever. President Thomas didn’t actually threaten torture, and he’s not the one threatening to begin with.
“No. We didn’t have anything to do with that. It was the Dungeon!”
“I see.” Under the table, the President waved his finger back and forth to signal that the man was lying.
With confirmation that the pair were responsible, I had to let Mike know.
[Tony doesn’t realize it, but he just admitted he and Karen were responsible for Michael and Rihelah’s disappearance.]
“Do you have any idea where those young people might be?”
“No.”
Thumbs-up. The signal for truth.
Shit.
President Thomas rested a fist against his lips for a moment as his right eye twitched.
“Now, Mister Marchant, please tell me if you’re allied with or part of the One World Order.”
“I told you when we joined the cabinet, me and Karen had never heard of that group until you briefed us on them.”
The President’s finger waved again.
They will pay for this.
“That wasn’t the question, Tony. Were you or Karen ever part of the One World Order?”
“No. How could we be? We helped you root them out in Aurora!”
Thomas gave another signal that Tony was lying.
“Tony, are you a resident of another Dungeon?”
“These people are misleading you, Mister President. Why aren’t you listening?” Tony hissed the last word.
Tony’s eyes widened when he looked at Thomas. With a sigh, he laughed.
The President shook his head. “I don’t see how any of this is amusing, Mister Marchant.”
“You’ve sided with the enemy.”
The President raised his thumb.
Thomas asked, “You believe the Dungeon is an enemy of our nation?”
“The nation will fall if you cooperate with this wretched place. It’s nothing more than a death trap.”
Thomas wagged his finger again.
“Thank you, Mister Marchant. Your cooperation is appreciated.”
Two fists. The signal to have Joe and Mike collect him again.
[Come and get Tony. The President’s finished, and you know where to take him.]
They entered through the front door of the castle.
“I’m glad you’re willing to listen to reason, Mister President. This whole situation can be explained if you’ll just—”
My Canopy Crawlers busily snipped the lines that tied him down as Joe and Mike entered.
Tony’s brow scrunched down and he glared at the marines. “What are they doing here? You told them to wait outside. You—mm. Mm!”
One of my Canopy Crawlers backed toward Tony’s head and tossed silk with glue over his mouth, sealing it shut.
President Thomas sighed. “Please take Mister Marchant away. You know where to go.”
“Aye, sir.” Joe and Mike saluted, then carried the man to a holding cell I created beside a hallway leading down to the basement. The two Canopy Crawlers remained with him and lashed the man firmly in place, leaving him wailing against his gag.
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Siobhán awoke in her old bed in the basement, naked and breathing hard, but her body was intact. Nearby, Sunny and Sandy yowled in terror, and Siobhán curled into a fetal position on her side, sniffling as she remembered the shock and horror of being gunned down.
[You’re back…] Ciara sobbed.
Why? Why did they kill us? We didn’t do anything.
Joe burst into the room and slid to her side on his knees. For the first time since she’d met Joe, Siobhán saw tears in his eyes for someone other than his late wife.
She offered the connection along with her arms, and Joe accepted as he pulled her into the most protective embrace she’d ever felt. Siobhán was shocked by the overwhelming feeling of Joe’s relief, adoration, and the crushing depth of his guilt that he’d failed to protect her.
“I know you didn’t do it, Joe. It wasn’t you.” Siobhán keened.
Despite the power of his feelings, Joe’s voice was steady and reassuring. “I’ll be here for you, Siobhán. Come what may, I swear I’ll—”
[Don’t blame yourself, Joe. It was those traitors. They used mind magic against the FBI director and Colonel Hart.]
“So, that’s what it was. Something was… wrong. I started having weird thoughts about you, ProfCon. It felt like part of me wanted to hate you all of a sudden, but you’re family to me. That’s why I ran away with Joy and the others. I never thought we’d be…” Siobhán sniffled and buried her face against Joe’s chest.
Joe’s so warm.
“Are Joy and the fuzzy babies all okay?” asked Siobhán.
[They’re back. Sunny and Sandy both ended up snuggling with Joy, and they all fell asleep on her bed. The cats don’t seem fazed by it at all. I’m glad to see that.]
We’re all alive again. Siobhán sobbed quietly as Joe held her tight. But something didn’t feel right.
Why is Joe still sad? She pulled back and met his eyes.
“Joe, what’s wrong?”
She felt Joe doing his best to master a gut-wrenching sense of loss as a single tear rolled down his face.
Somehow, he kept his voice as steady as a rock. “Michael and Rihelah… are gone.”
“What?” Siobhán choked out her question.
“Those traitors made them disappear. They’re not residents. They disappeared first, but they’re not back. Mike is… not doing well.”
“No. Rihelah is—she’s my best friend and Joy’s…”
Siobhán’s lips were unsteady as she gazed up through her tears at Joe.
He shook his head as another lone tear ran down his other cheek. “They were family to me, too.”
Not my Senpai and her love… they only just got started.
Siobhán sobbed as hard as she had when her parents were killed just one month before; the memory of their loss added to her grief and she curled into a fetal position.
It’s not fair.
Michael and Rihelah finally confessed.
They were gonna grow old together.
This can’t…
Each thought increased the stifling weight in Siobhán’s chest as she bawled in Joe’s arms.
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I knew they were hurting just as much as me, so I let my residents be while I grieved my sweet Ryebean and her husband-to-be in the silence of my eternal solitude. I knew I could never hold anyone again. I couldn’t comfort any of them the way their arms could.
Poor Mike was holed up in his room in the castle, sobbing into his pillow even harder than Siobhán.
“My son… my little boy…” He repeated, over and over.
I wished I could do something for Mike, but the best I could manage was to ask my girls to go to him. They’d always been there for me when I was human.
They pawed at Mike’s door.
When he opened it, the Labs looked up at Mike with raised eyebrows and the biggest, saddest puppy eyes. Somehow, they knew better than to speak human words.
“Hey, pretty girls,” Mike said as he fell to his knees and hugged them tight.
My girls whined and gave him kisses while Mike held on and cried over the loss of his son and daughter.
Over the next few hours, I distracted myself the best way I could by working on the final details of my fourth floor.
The President held one-on-one meetings with his cabinet and vetted them with his new skill.
Nobody else had any attachment to the One World Order.
Once that was done, he did the same with the top military brass. All seemed loyal and honest. Colonel Hart was last to be grilled, and when asked if he regretted giving the order to shoot my residents, he hung his head in shame.
President Thomas was kind enough to inform him of what had happened, and Hart’s mouth tightened.
“What can I do, sir? I’m relieved that they’re alive, but my marines shot and killed them… innocent civilians.”
[I know that mistake wasn’t his own. Mister President, I think Hart is a good candidate for residency.]
“Hart would be an excellent choice.”
“Sir?” Hart asked quizzically.
“I’m speaking with the Dungeon, colonel.”
“I see, sir. I—”
“Did she offer it to you?” the President asked.
Hart replied, “Yes, sir. Do I have permission to accept?”
“That gift is hers to give, and yours to accept or deny.”
The colonel glowed as he received my gift.
[Hello, Colonel Hart.]
“Ah, Ciara O’Connor?” Hart asked.
[Yes. Before we begin, I know that you were being controlled. Being made a resident should help with that since you are now empowered. I’m also glad your marines survived. It’s lucky I returned to my senses, or all of them would have died.]
Hart rubbed his chin. “I’ve been briefed on your instinct and I’m relieved to know those poor girls and your animals have returned to life. My marines will be okay. I’m concerned about whether we find a way to get Elliott’s son and Miss Najibi back.”
[I like your attitude, Colonel.]
The President added, “Indeed. Hart is a capable commander.” Then his smile faded. “Ciara, do you believe what Sven said about this Dragon war is true?”
[I do believe it’s true. That said, I only have my own experience, Sven’s word, the vision he showed my residents, and the existence of Auronox and magical phenomena as evidence.]
“That… wasn’t what I hoped you’d say. And what’s worse—my gut tells me you’re speaking the truth.” President Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose.
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Floors: 4
Minions: 411/480
Residents: 12/18
Denizens: 881730
Traps: 10/20