~Dungeon 16 cleared for the first time by Just Friends~
Fuck.
We’d done it. Granted, we’d killed four people to do it. Five people, if you counted the Minotaur.
I was still debating that. I’d assumed the beast had been generated by the Dungeon. Though… Xanthe was a lizard person who’d clearly had sentience and intelligence, and all the other creatures in Twilight had also been a type of being. What if the Minotaur was just another race that hadn’t accomplished the same thing Xanthe’s people hadn’t? When it had spoken, it had said it couldn’t surrender. So if the Minotaur had been real, and not an NPC, we had killed what was essentially a slave, unable to escape the invisible constraints placed upon them, put up to the firing squad. If the “first time” in the Dungeon announcement meant what it said, would the Minotaur be destined to die again and again and never be able to break free?
If that was the case, I wasn’t even sure about how I’d feel. It was a far crueller fate than anything else I could really imagine.
I wanted to feel elation that we’d cleared the Dungeon, but I couldn’t summon the emotion. Just a weird sense of resignation.
We’d been dealt such random shit since we entered the Gate that when the world fell away into infinite empty white before this clear announcement, it was actually kind of anticlimactic. Part of me had been expecting another series of challenges or some impossible to understand puzzle to follow.
Ending it here was… bad writing. No two ways about it.
This simply reinforced my opinion that this entire thing sucked, not just as a Dungeon but as entertainment. Really now. What was engaging about watching a handful of people standing around humming and hawing over what to do with a ball of yarn? Add to that, making the labyrinth so large that even had there been other players in the Dungeon, which was likely considering the time that had passed, that we’d run into only four meant that it was highly probable most of the other people who’d entered would end up dying of malnutrition. That was akin to watching grass grow, if by grow you meant “die from not being watered.”
It paled in comparison to the CBD Dungeon Wren had described. An arctic winter biome and monsters in snow ambushing you when you least expected it? Now that was entertainment. Well, at least when it was happening to someone else and they weren’t real people. On a TV show or in a book, I’d have eaten that right up. But this Dungeon was…
What wasted potential. Everything really just felt like whoever had developed this had read the CliffsNotes about Theseus and dragged and dropped random shit onto their canvas.
Wren appeared before me as the wall popped out of existence like the snap of the fingers. A piece of weight fell from my shoulders upon seeing her. The time alone in the room hadn't been too hard on her.
She looked stunned, her hazel eyes wide in awe, though I noted those same eyes were a little reddened. Had she been crying? My heart hurt. I told myself we'd make finding her family a top priority.
As she gaped at our voidlike surroundings, I was glad she was still capable of childlike wonder. We hadn’t robbed her of that with all the awful things she’d been complicit in as a member of our party. I still didn’t know exactly what we’d do with the corpses we’d stored in our inventories. Bury them somewhere in Brisbane? Dump them in front of a funeral home and hope for the best? We’d definitely not be tossing them into the Brisbane River as per Jye’s suggestion.
Nexus available
Huh. That was completely new. I’d long since stopped being surprised by sudden reveals like this. However, that it was a notification, not an announcement, piqued my interest. It had to be for our eyes only. For those who had cleared Dungeons. I didn’t want to jump the gun but a Nexus sounded very much like a fast travel hub. Should I be concerned that I didn’t think waypoints seemed beyond the pale these days?
Everyone in the party had been transported. Or maybe they simply remained where they’d been previously standing as the world changed. I really couldn’t tell. One moment we’d been facing a stonewall deadend and the next nothing but white emptiness. Here we cast no shadows, everyone instead impossibly lit evenly from each and every direction. It was difficult to tell if we were standing on floor or floating as whatever horizon line should’ve existed, simply didn’t. From the weight of my feet, I figured we were likely applying pressure onto our feet, so the former was probably the truth.
There was barely a moment to take it all in when an unfamiliar voice, timid and shaking, spoke from behind us.
“Uh, don’t hold back… What did you think?”
Why the hell did they have a British accent?
On edge, the six of us span on our heels to face them, attempting to summon any weapon we could. Rather than succeeding in arming ourselves, the buzz of rejection sounded. Okay. Very cool. So we were defenceless in this new zone. It was just one thing after another, wasn’t it? No rest for the… Were we wicked? There wasn’t enough mental space to consider that train of thought as I focused on the person standing before us.
They were shorter than average with a brown bushy beard and, contrarily, sparse hair upon their head. Other than their general comportment of standing hunched over, as if ready to fold into themselves at the slightest provocation, they were the exact image someone might conjure when you were asked to imagine what “uncle” meant. They fiddled with the hem of their polo shirt, eyes nervously darting everywhere but to us.
What the fuck.
“What the fuck?” I said, more annoyed than alarmed, though I tried to activate [Channel] to borrow [Thick Hide] anyway as a precaution. Hearing the hiss of an ability shortly follow my own, it sounded like Axel had done the same. At the very least we could use skills here. That was some solace. It gave me some sense of relief, the second defensive skin pooling over me.
“My Dungeon… Please… You can be brutally honest. I’m ready to hear it.” They paused, their brow crinkling. Their face fell as they threw up their hands. “It was awful, wasn’t it? I knew it, oh my heavens… I’m a sham. I’ll never [REDACTED].”
I blinked. There was a lot to process.
“Your Dungeon?”
Their eyes, an unnatural shade of gold, flashed open and their cheeks reddened.
“My deepest apologies! I didn’t introduce myself. Heavens, I’m such an idiot. I’m, uh, well, maybe you’ve heard of me? I’m Nabu.” Their head tilted at our lack of response, then they let out a defeated sigh. “God of wisdom, schooling, and the arts… No? Not ringing any bells? I knew this would happen, I knew it…”
I looked him up and down, taking in the khaki shorts, and thongs that revealed hairy toes.
“You? A god?”
“Well, uh, no offence intended, but as far as you humans are concerned, yes, that’s right. But! That doesn’t mean I’m not open to criticism. Er… Constructive criticism, that is. As the first to clear my Dungeon, I’d dearly… love to hear your feedback.” As he spoke, it sounded very much like he was dreading any and all critique, his hands wringing with anxiety, his voice trembling.
So… this was who we could blame for the entire thing?
He stood there, nervously twiddling his thumbs, a shaky, uncertain smile all but hidden by his impressive beard.
What were we meant to say?
What were we meant to do?
I’d been fantasising about confronting this person since we’d entered, but now we’d come face to face and he looked and acted like an amateur writer after submitting their first manuscript. I was torn between sheer outrage and wanting to let him down gently. Like I wanted to pummel him to the floor and also deliver a compliment critique sandwich as he laid there recovering.
It was a baffling combination of emotions.
“An honest review is all I ask,” Nabu said, his voice cracking.
This man, this “god,” had put us in life and death situations, and I knew I should be angry, but when I reached for the feeling deep down in my gut, I came up empty. More than anything else, I felt that this Deity or whatever was just… pathetic. Not worth my anger. Saving a dying worm would inspire more emotion in me. It didn't stop me from imagining him exploding into pieces. There was some catharsis to be had from that.
As if everyone felt similarly, the rest of the party started answering his plea.
“Zero out of ten. Don't quit your day job,” Axel said, his voice flat.
“I got a few notes for improvements, but it wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t good,” Jye added as they folded their arms across their chest.
“Respectfully, I could pull something better out of a unicorn’s ass,” Tam remarked with a scowl.
“It seemed a little silly,” came Wren’s considerate response. “Though it did get very scary.”
“I do not think the other Deities would’ve enjoyed it.” Gigi accompanied this statement with a shake of xir head.
My own head nearly exploded from the overstimulation all this information was providing. We’d been in a god’s Dungeon and there’d been deities watching us and Gigi had known and Tam had to have known too. Was that who the sponsors were as well? Other deities? What did deities even mean in this context? I’d never heard of Nabu, but my familiarity with deities only extended to Greek, Roman, and Egyptian mythology.
Or was he another world’s god?
I cast my mind back to Tam’s first description of the Dungeon from Mumma (Who I now realised had to be a goddess? What the fuck). “He’s a wiley one.”
Wiley in what way? The way he was snivelling? He had all the gravitas of a senior chihuahua.
In fact, Nabu looked close to tears, his bottom lip quivering.
“R-Really? It was that awful?”
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Gripping onto my flying thoughts, I took a deep breath.
“Before I give you my honest opinion, I’ve got to ask,” I began, “why?”
He cocked his head to the side; the incoming sobbing on hold. He blinked back the tears. “Why what?”
“Why everything?”
“Oh dear heavens, yes, I suppose half the fun is you not knowing. But as I’m, uh, duty bound to sponsor one of you, I suppose it’d be in my best interest to inform you.” His golden gaze skittishly roamed over our party as he spoke. Uncharacteristically, there was something of dismissal when he got to Gigi, and his eyes didn’t linger over Tam for long at all. Was that fear? “Of course, you two are spoken for, but I’ll annul everyone’s limitations insofar as I can.”
What? Gigi was spoken for? Xe had a sponsor too? I hadn’t seen it on xir player data. Maybe xe’d chosen not to show it? Had that too been moderated, just more efficiently? And what did Nabu mean, “annul everyone’s limitations”? God, fuck everything.
With a wave of his hand, the whiteness shifted immediately into a generic lecture hall. Nabu gestured to the auditorium desks as he took to the teacher’s podium at the front.
Whatever.
I took a seat at the closest chair and the others followed suit, filing into one row.
Nabu cleared his throat, and began explaining, running his hands over his beard as he spoke. It should’ve been distracting, but I don’t think anything would’ve torn our focus from the words that began coming out of his mouth. Especially now that it seemed whatever censorship had been put in place had been lifted, at least to a certain extent. Ah. “Annul limitations.”
“Hmm, uh, well, I’ve never done this before… But to put it plainly… Humanity has been graced with the honour of entertaining us Deities. Of course, again no offence, as you all were, you would hardly be anything worth watching, as flimsy as you were. So we granted you the players, or rather the agents or actors in this, ahem, grand performance, enhanced skills and abilities. You’re expected to put on a show.”
I’d been right.
Nabu had beaten me to sharing this with the others, though maybe it was for the better. However, being validated like this was like… congealing concrete in my guts.
I felt sick. I didn’t know it until now, but I hadn’t wanted to be right. I didn't want how messed up my theory had been to truly be our reality. Even as event after event had provided more than enough evidence to prove me correct, I still wanted to be wrong.
People dying, killing each other, for the sake of entertaining others? The concept was so inhumane, so alien, that the only thing that could've ever made sense was that the ones putting humanity through this were Deities. Only someone so far removed from mortality could think taking someone's life, their suffering, was fun to watch.
“But this is only the beginning,” Gigi said, interrupting Nabu. “What comes next is…” Xe grimaced, the expression entirely unfamiliar on xir face.
Jye nodded. “Yeah, like Gigi said, xir whole planet was wiped out and all xe had left was xir coat.” They pounded their chest again with a closed fist and jutted their chin in Gigi’s direction. Grimly, Gigi nodded back, appreciative of the support.
I swivelled my head to stare at the redheaded giant who had sat to my left.
“What?” I said. “When the hell did Gigi say any of that?”
Jye’s thick brows furrowed. “Like, before xe joined the party. You gotta clean out your ears, dude. It was xir answer when asked if I could have xir coat.”
I replayed the interaction in my mind, and then I reflected on every exchange Gigi and Jye had had where Gigi’s words had been moderated. The giant had never seemed confused. All along I’d believed Jye had just gotten used to the glitch noise since they hadn’t reacted. But… I guess whatever was wrong with Jye’s system meant Gigi had never been censored. Come to think of it, not once had Jye mentioned a word about any redactions. All along… we could've gotten answers.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to strangle Jye.
Instead I just sighed.
“Okay, so how does it get worse then? My imagination’s a little shot right now, so just give it to me straight.”
“Well, the Dungeons are what you may know as a kind of matinee. A warm-up.”
“Is it kind of like a tutorial?” Wren supplied as she readjusted herself in her seat to lean on her knees. Before, she’d been half-sunk under the pew length desk.
With a click on his fingers, Nabu nodded. “Yes. Similar to a tutorial.”
“Then when do we get to the real game?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“Ah, well, yes, um, you may have noticed your levels have no real impact on your skills.” The others blinked blankly and so I waved him on. “They’re actually more for us, really. To keep track of how everyone’s… fairing. Once the majority of parties reach an average level of 10, they will take centre stage.” He flourished shaking hands, spreading them wide.
I swallowed back my growing fear. “And what about the rest? The parties that don’t hit that average?”
“Culled, of course. So we only have the cream of the crop in the spotlight.”
The party said nothing.
If it was the majority of parties, that was over 50% of humanity. So… 4,000,000,000 people would be executed eventually. I didn’t even question it. After all, look at what the Deities had done so far. They’ve messed around with our minds with the Dungeon compulsion, they’d janked up the very physics and matter of our world with the skills they’d granted us, they were capable of forming pocket dimensions. Killing so many humans might be as easy as Nabu creating this lecture hall. A singular gesture.
My mouth went dry, my mind reeling.
Was there no way of stopping this? The scale of death and loss would be unimaginable. It seemed unavoidable. Like Nabu had been through this exact same thing again and again. That this doom was inevitable.
My head span. Underneath the detached disgust and horror for the rest of humanity, there was something closer. It was personal bias, I knew. I prayed my parents would be okay. And beyond that, I recognised that they didn’t have more significance than the rest of the human race, but still… they mattered to me. There were such a small handful of people who did.
I forced myself not to glance at Jye, the implications of Nabu’s words reverberating about in my skull endlessly.
Jye couldn’t level up. It meant everyone else in our party had to reach even higher levels faster than everyone else in the world if we wanted to survive the culling. Of course, the other option was something I would never consider.
But was that even possible? Based on the experience bar, each level required double the prior one. If I was doing the maths right, which had never been my strong point, to just reach LVL 10, we’d need over 120,000 EXP. And then to just get from 10 to 11, we’d need that all again. The most EXP we’d been awarded was when we’d eliminated Test Name; 1,000 XP. How the fuck were we meant to get over 250,000 EXP?
Was it even possible to save Jye, for us to make the cut before the culling?
The familiar thread of panic began to wind through me, my chest beginning to tighten.
Fuck, not now! I had so many other questions. I needed answers.
But my body wouldn’t listen. My muscles seized, almost outside of my control.
Of course. It figured. I knew it. I knew I wasn’t fixed. That I couldn’t just be normal.
I gasped for air, reaching for my throat, choking, choking, choking. I tried to breathe, to remember the pattern. It had been so long since I'd needed it, I had almost forgotten.
Breathe in for six, hold for four, out for six. Your happy place.
Struggling to inflate my lungs, I counted to six. My vision began to swim, the lecture hall flashing between existence and a kaleidoscope.
I clenched my eyes closed to limit the sensory overload.
Hold.
Jye would be fine.
Hold.
We’d be fine.
Hold.
We could save them.
Hold.
We could survive, all of us.
I exhaled to six.
My happy–
To my right, warm fingers slipped between my own.
My heartbeat ticked to a slower pitter patter, and my breathing began to even. The world stilled. Slowly as I continued the pattern, the awareness of control tendrilled back through me. That said, the energy required to regain myself, to settle, had completely spent me. I don’t know how much time had passed.
It suddenly occurred to me why my near death experiences hadn't had such a big impact on me. Each of these attacks… they were basically the same as dying. I guess I’d been trained to die.
Axel’s furrowed brow was the first thing I saw when I finally opened my eyes. I must’ve looked like the mess I felt because the concerned gaze of the rest of the party, and Nabu too, were drilling into my skin. I felt like shit, and my hand was clammy and sweaty in Axel’s. As I stared, I noticed I’d clamped onto his hand so tightly my nails had dug crescents into his skin, pin pricking it red.
Guilty, I snatched back my hand almost instinctively.
A beat passed as I released what I’d done. He’d tried to comfort me when I was having a panic attack and I’d reacted like that? Jesus christ. Even without the pressure of knowing his feelings for me, just as a friend that was a shitty thing to do. Why when it came to Axel did I always mess up like this?
He stared at me.
I dreaded whatever would follow that look, my panic swallowed by regret.
“That was kinda homophobic, man,” he finally said, a shit-eating grin splitting across his face.
I let out a croaky surprised chuckle. It was good he wasn’t hurt by my reaction. Well, emotionally hurt at least. My grip had done some damage.
“As much as I love this, can I ask, you two done?” Tam asked, her slit-brow raised in whatever the opposite of amusement was.
“Sorry to inconvenience you with my crumbling mental health, Tam.”
Wren echoed her in a much nicer tone, “Are you okay now, Lee?”
Letting my saltiness drop, I nodded. “Yes, thank you for asking.”
Nabu cleared his throat. “So, um, I believe it’s standard to allow you questions, queries, and comments.”
I’d talk to Jye later about this. About keeping them alive with us. Yeah. Time to store these stupid fucking fears in the back of my mind until some future period. I’m sure that’d be absolutely fine and would have no lasting repercussions. It was probably bad being sarcastic in your own mind.
Wren, who excluding Tam and Axel, seemed to be taking this news the most calmly, leaned forward, apparently happy the floor was open to the myriad of questions her inquisitive mind sought to answer. “What happens to the parties who make the spotlight?”
“Um, well, they act in several arcs, until there’s but one final party left standing.”
Just Friends fell silent. One party. Out of 8,000,000,000 people.
I didn't know if parties had a maximum capacity but even without one, there would be a certain amount of people entirely unwilling to join others. Tam, for one. Speaking of, the cutthroat appeared to be cleaning dirt from her nails.
“And then after that?” Wren prompted, curious, still strangely even.
The god smiled, clearly happy with a student like Wren. He truly was the god of schooling. “The party wins a prize.”
“Oh! What’s the prize?”
Nabu clapped his hands together in delight.
“Anything you wish! Well, to be more precise, the Deities will grant the party a wish.”
“A wish?” I echoed, my voice sounding foreign in my own ears.
“Any wish! You can wish for anything at all!”
His response settled in silence around us.
Oh.
The solution was so obvious.
It came to me faster than I thought my neurons could even fire.
“I could… wish for everyone who died to come back?”
“You certainly can! Heavens, I know it sounds too good to be true. Uh, granting wishes doesn’t seem possible. But, well, you can just ask Gigi. After all, xe got xir wish granted.”
If it were possible, the newest member of our party shrunk to an even smaller size under the weight of our collective gaze.