Part 2 - Putting Down Roots

Clyde was so happy to finally be a player in the game. He loved that he had a cool first spell as well. His Fire Starter spell was pretty self-explanatory. He could ignite a fire with his hands, although it worked much better and faster if there was already a flame to build upon. He could also ignite flammable objects and substances with just a touch.

This was not his first metal padlock; he used a Zippo lighter they had found in an "abandoned" tobacco shop. Putting the flame from the lighter underneath the lock, he held his hand close which intensified the flame to the point where it could cut through a heavy-duty padlock in a matter of minutes. There was some concentration involved as well but not too much. Walking back to the SUV with a pep in his step, he put the chain in his bag. Unsurprisingly, the bag had not gained weight even though he had added much more stuff to it. He could check its contents in his journal now too.

“I think the spell leveled up,” he said, his happiness evident.

Travis tried not to dwell on how their windfall had come at the hands of two deceased individuals. One of them had attacked them with the intent to kill, and the other had met their end from someone else's hands. Despite the circumstances, Travis managed to maintain a smile on his face and be genuinely happy for Clyde.

“Good job, man! I told you things would work out,” he said.

They drove around the building to assess it. The plant was situated on a vast piece of property. Woods surrounded two-quarters of the compound on the west and southern sides. To the north, there stood a dilapidated mobile home, possibly an office or residence for workers; it was hard to tell. Beyond that, a large area displayed an ongoing battle between concrete and weeds, with the weeds pulling ahead.

Then there was the front, a long, single-lane, poorly paved road stretching for about a mile. To reach the road, one had to navigate through long-abandoned factory buildings.

This place was secluded, and if it were to serve as a base of operations of some kind, it had a lot of potential. There appeared to be two entrances: a metal door on the side, next to a loading dock, and another door around the back, the type you'd push a dolly or cart through, leading to a small shed where supplies were likely stored.

They pulled up to the back door. Travis got out and pulled his weapon, with Clyde following closely behind. They had discussed tactics extensively during their drive here. With Clyde's new skills, he could be a force multiplier, but until Travis taught him some basic combat skills, he was to stay in the rear.

His heat vision skill couldn't see through thick walls yet. It was also a temporary skill; Clyde couldn't stalk prey Predator-style. He had to say an incantation and then focus on it, which drained his power.

There was no mana, at least they didn't think so, but spells drained Clyde's body. He became weak and tired after using magic for too long. They hoped to learn exactly what governed magic use, but willpower and intelligence seemed to be good guesses. In actuality this game was very unique in the way it handled health and magic use. There were no bars full of hit points or mana that needed to be refilled. The game used real life abilities and combined them with attributes. Other things running in the background to try and produce something akin to real life, except they had game like elements.

Travis slid open the door slowly and peeked in. It was a room full of rusted carts and dollies, the type used for hauling products. The large white metal door between them and the inside looked formidable. He tried to push it open, but to no avail. He didn't want Clyde to burn it down in case they needed it to keep others out once they got in. Travis braced himself and gave it a strong kick near the right middle of the door; it flew open.

They had been worried that it would be full of rotted meat or something worse, perhaps infested with rodents and bugs. After opening the door, though, it seemed to have been cleaned out before being left to sit. There were conveyor belts in the big room they walked into. It smelled musty, but nothing unexpected considering how long it had sat dormant.

Travis made his way slowly through the building with Clyde behind him. The belts ran into the loading docks, which were empty otherwise. They made it to the backroom, which still had huge meat cutting tools, and further back, a large cold box with hooks. Of course, there was no electricity in the cold box. This room was surprisingly clean as well. Finally, to the back left of the main entrance, they found what looked like a break room and a few offices. Nothing fancy, but Travis found what would be his room if they stayed here.

Every door was open and needed to be replaced, except for one room. It had a closed door that was pristine white, as if it had just been placed. As they approached, they could see it said, ‘loot storage’ on the door. Travis turned the handle, but it was locked. He wanted to check his journal before doing anything hasty. They did one more once-over, propped open all the doors and a few windows to air the place out, and then went outside near the SUV to talk about what they had found.

---

This was what the DM had been waiting for. Maybe he shouldn't have placed the safe zones so far from his MC, but he needed them to be out of the way of the cataclysm. In reality, it had only been two days, but it felt like too long. Finally, his favorite parts of the books and campaigns he had read or seen involved setting up a base. Other teams and enemies that also had bases were a plus. Then there were different factions, and they would fight or ally, depending on the lay of the land. The DM would have enjoyed Total War games.

Beyond all of that, he loved to see how a capable ruler built up his team and his base. What kind of defenses did he prefer? Would he rather have specializations or balanced fighters to defend it? Would he be open to trade, or did he just send out raiding parties? He loved that kind of strategic planning. This stemmed from his exclusion from positions of power within his family's business empire. Being a third son in his world was the equivalent of being a second son in an absolute hereditary monarchy from Medieval Europe. Now though, it looked like he would get his wish, or at least a vicarious version of his wish. His MC had made it to the base in one piece; he just had to open the door and get his treasures. Then things should start coming together.

With the good news came some bad: the DM was forced to give away some control of his game. The illegal AI was still researching this Earth's history, focusing on RPGs and DnD in particular. Even for a super advanced artificial intelligence, it took many hours to consume all of a world's information on a range of topics, including human psychology. Once control was handed over, the DM could focus on more big picture issues, such as where to place monster hordes, what parts of the world still needed culling, and of course, he would plan out the MC's main mission.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Other parts of the world, the ones that still had human life, could play a role as well down the road. He envisioned a situation where a major power grew in one of the other continents. That was a long way off, though. For now, he would sit back and enjoy watching his hand-picked main character figure out the puzzle to the door and then set up an impregnable stronghold. A meat packing plant wasn't a four-sided diamond fort or even a castle, but it would do.

---

They sat down on a bench that was outside, probably the smoking area. Travis was pretty content, although he still didn't know exactly what he was supposed to do here.

If he had to use it as a place to sleep, train, and collect loot, it was fine, albeit a bit out of the way. If it was supposed to become a fortress where he housed other people and defended against monsters, then it left a bit to be desired, although it could be far worse. It was very defensible but not without a lot more people, which might be hard to come by in this new world.

So far, one PC he had met was ready to abandon them at the first sign of trouble, even though she had a change of heart after possibly experiencing a nervous breakdown. The other PC they came across had ambushed him without a word, and only luck saved his life. How would the others be that he met?

They had run into a guy on the road who claimed he knew of a spell that could build walls, some kind of stone manipulation magic. Two days after this all started and they already met a guy that knew a guy that had some unique ability. At this point, why not though? That wouldn't even make the top 10 list of the craziest powers he had seen or heard of. Still, this guy seemed pretty unreliable, and Travis wasn't sure if he knew what he was talking about. Something like that would really help make this place defensible though.

He turned to Clyde, "What do you think?"

Clyde still had that stupid grin on his face. "It's dark and dirty, but it seems like a solid stronghold. Out of the way, large spaces inside for stuff. Not bad at all."

Clyde was insistent that there would be crafting and smithing once they set up in a sedentary location. Travis wasn't so sure, but he wasn't the gamer; Clyde was. So far, this whole situation had played out similarly to a game or book, maybe even like someone's tabletop RPG. Still, he just had a hard time accepting that. Millions of dead and things completely transformed for someone's idea of fun. It pissed him off when he thought about it too much, so he tried not to think about it.

Travis pulled out his book. There was a notification when they were inside, but he mentally tuned it out. Now, he checked it. An interesting side note was that the journal seemed to be changing or improving, perhaps upgrading, as Clyde suggested, like a system patch or something. One day missions would be worded a certain way, the next a little different, stuff like that.

Missions

Congratulations - ‘Base Building for the Win’ - Mission Accomplished!

Prizes: 3 Minion Scrolls, 3 XP Potions, and a Primary Weapon or Piece of Armor. Items will be in your Loot Chest after you solve the cipher on the door. Good Luck

“Let's go figure out how to get that damn door opened,” Travis said.

They went inside and examined the door. Travis had a flashlight in his glove compartment.

When they encountered a few stragglers on the road, he had asked one if there was a hardware store nearby, it hadn't stopped bothering him that he never got a chance to stock up on supplies. The guy's reply had given Travis chills, “There used to be until a damn sinkhole opened, and it fell in.” He wondered if that was a message to him, so he stopped complaining about not having time to go to one. How could it be, though? No one knew he would meet up with those guys. It was a random encounter, wasn't it? He put the thought aside.

They made it to the door, and Clyde read it. Underneath where it said, "Loot Storage," there was now a bunch of scrambled letters. Then underneath, it said “Decode and say before the door.” It listed the cipher as "OEXZOOGXOXSWA."

Clyde seemed to already be deep in thought. Basic ciphers were quite common to officers in the military. For Clyde it was something of a hobby.

"Did you see any words etched on the walls or something?" he asked.

"No, not at first glance. How long will it take you to break it?" Travis asked.

"It's impossible to say without knowing the keyword," Clyde answered tersely.

Travis had seen this before; when Clyde was in deep thought, he got a bit brusque. It was fine as long as he kept figuring things out, which he usually did.

"Okay, I'll start cleaning this place out, and you do what you do, deal?" Travis suggested.

Clyde barely nodded his head. Travis laughed and walked to assess how best to start cleaning the place.

Two hours later, Travis had moved all the meat-cutting equipment outside. Who knew if it would be useful, so he piled it neatly under an awning. They would need a broom at the very least, but if this place was going to be a permanent base, they would need more than that. He did have a few cleaning supplies in his bag that he had picked up along the way here. They would be helpful in cleaning up the furniture, like the chairs and tables in the break room, and the desks in the two offices.

As he was cleaning, he took the time to consider whether or not this could really be some type of organized game. The why ate at him for some reason, and who would have the power to do so was also on his mind. He knew that while many scientists dismissed the recent UFO videos and statements from the F-18 pilots, a lot of Air Force intel types did not. He had kept in touch with a few who still served and a couple that did not. These are the men who fly in planes ladened with top secret equipment or the men that they report to.

It was considered bad for your career to report on sightings that seemed not from this world, but people knew Travis did not dismiss things out of hand. Due to that and his discretion he was used as a sound board by those nervous about speaking more openly. He had a conversation once with a radar operator who worked on a plane so top secret, he could not even tell Travis its designation. The things he said one night while they were drinking was staggering.

Some of the stuff he saw on radar and other electronic devices past his code clearance, had to have one of two mundane explanations. Either some nation had tech far advanced of our own, which was not the case. Or that our equipment was garbage and just picked random shit up for no reason, again highly unlikely if not downright ridiculous.

When Travis pushed him for what the explanation would be if both of those were not true, he got very uncomfortable. He just said that Travis knew what it was. They both went home soon after. He struggled to sleep that night thinking about the ramifications of it all.

Now, the world had been completely turned on its head, and people were walking around with magic items, and damn magic themselves. Not to mention monsters. Was it a bored extraterrestrial looking for kicks? He had discarded the possibility that he was either crazy or dreaming. Being self aware had kept him alive in the army, so he knew that his mental and physical state was exactly the same as it was before everything changed.

Clyde's yell shook him out of his reverie. "Come here!". Travis walked over wiping sweat from his brow. He had got a lot done but was ready to get in this door.

"Since there are no prominent words written in this place that I could find, I used the two right in front of me. Unless it's some crazy coincidence, the key is 'LOOT'. Of course, I tried 'STORAGE' first, but that was a waste of time."

"What does it spell out so far?" Travis asked, genuinely excited.

"DUNGEON," Clyde said.

"Have you made any guesses?"

"I wanted to ask you first. What if we only get so many tries?" Clyde hesitated, looking unconvinced and wanting Travis's approval.

"I'm sure you have a few obvious choices, so go ahead and try," Travis encouraged him.

"DUNGEON MASTER." *Click* The door sounded like it unlocked.

They looked at each other.

"Not just a game, huh?" Clyde said with a sense of wonder.

Travis stared back at him, his expression hovering between impressed and apprehensive.

"It could be a trap, so let's be ready. But something tells me that what's behind this door will significantly change our lives one way or another."