The deeper we ventured into the city, the more the boundaries of reality seemed to blur. Gravity became a suggestion rather than a law, with some NPCs walking on walls or ceilings as if it were perfectly normal. Time itself seemed to hiccup occasionally, with localized areas speeding up or slowing down, creating a bizarre strobe effect of motion.

We pushed on through the bizarre setting, aware we were on the clock. We had two days left to complete the First Circle and finish the Second Trial, and we still had to complete the quest we had taken on.

“You ever think the AI gave is this quest just so we would waste time?” I asked Annalise. “Like, what if the next Trial location comes up while we’re in here? And then we don’t make it in time?”

“Then we die,” Annalise said. “You might have a point, though. The AI might be working against us.”

“Hey, doomsters, we’ll be fine, okay,” Snuggles said. “We’ll complete this quest in no time, get some sweet loot, then go do the next Trial. The AI doesn’t want us dead. That defeats the purpose of the Trials.”

“Yeah, it just wants us to suffer,” I said.

“Like you suffered back in that alley?” Annalise said with a wry grin.

I returned her grin. “I wouldn’t call that suffering. It was actually quite—”

“Pleasurable, Kade,” Snuggles said. “I know.”

“Pleasurable until you put your dick in that doll’s mouth,” Annalise said.

“You think it would’ve, you know, bit it off?” I asked.

“Undoubtedly.”

“But it would’ve grown back though, right? Like Snuggles’ arm.”

“Maybe. You’d still have no dick for a while, though.”

I glanced around at Snuggles. “Do you have a tiny penis hidden away in that fur somewhere, or are you just like, asexual or something?”

“Plushies don’t have genitals, Kade,” Snuggles said. “Unfortunately.”

“But the rest of you on the inside is like meat and bone.”

“I know, but I still don’t have a dick.”

“Do you have an asshole?”

“Yes Kade, I have an asshole. Would you like to inspect it?”

“No thanks.” I paused. “Why no dick, though?”

“Jesus, are you gonna embarrass me, Kade? I have a little hole there, okay? You happy now? A little hole so the pee can come out.”

I couldn’t help but snigger. “You mean a vagina?”

He slapped me upside the head. “Not a vagina. A hole!”

“But a vagina is—”

“Can it, you two,” Annalise cut in. “Our contact should be up ahead somewhere.”

We found ourselves in what appeared to be the merchant district of Glitch Haven. The narrow streets were lined with shops and stalls, each more bizarre than the last. Holographic signs advertised wares ranging from “Quantum-Entangled Socks” to “Schrödinger’s Cat Food (May or May Not Exist)”. The cobblestone path beneath our feet occasionally flickered, revealing circuitry that pulsed with an eerie blue light.

As we navigated through the throng of NPCs—some human-like, others decidedly not—we kept our eyes peeled for the meeting spot. Finally, we came upon a dingy establishment wedged between a potion shop and a tech repair kiosk. The sign above the door flickered between “The Glitching Goblet” and strings of unintelligible code.

Inside, the tavern was a clash of medieval aesthetics and futuristic tech. Wooden tables and chairs sat beneath floating holographic menus. A bartender with four arms mixed drinks that changed color and consistency with each shake.

In the far corner, partially obscured by a malfunctioning holographic plant, sat a figure hunched over a mug of something that emitted an ominous glow. This had to be our contact.

As we approached, the figure looked up, revealing a face that seemed to be constantly shifting between different features. One moment he had a bushy beard, the next a clean-shaven chin. His eyes flickered between various colors, never settling on one for more than a second.

“Feedback Felix, I presume?” I said, sliding into the seat across from him.

The man’s head twitched, and suddenly his entire demeanor changed. He sat up straight, a wide grin spreading across his face. When he spoke, his voice had an unsettling echo, as if it was being broadcast from multiple sources at once.

“Ah, the new players! Welcome, welcome! I’ve been expecting you. The name’s Felix, Feedback Felix, at your service.” He extended a hand that seemed to phase in and out of existence.

Before any of us could react, Felix launched into his spiel, his words coming out in a rapid-fire stream of information.

“You’re here about the radio tower, of course. Vital mission, very important. The tower’s in the Static Sector, nasty place, full of interference. You’ll need to be careful, very careful indeed. The Decibel Demons, they’re coming, you know. Only the tower can stop them, yes, only the tower.”

Felix’s form flickered, and for a moment, I could have sworn I saw lines of code running through his skin.

“The Static Sector,” he continued, “it’s to the north. You can’t miss it—it’s where reality gets... fuzzy. Follow the sound of white noise, and you’ll find your way. But hurry, time is running out. The city depends on you!”

With that, Felix’s form began to glitch violently. His features blurred, his voice distorted, and then, with a pop of displaced air, he vanished entirely, leaving behind only a faintly glowing business card on the table.

I picked up the card. In shifting, holographic letters, it read: Feedback Felix - Information Broker, Reality Consultant, Part-time Paradox.

A notification appeared.

Locate the Static Sector!

“Well,” I said, looking at Annalise and Snuggles, “I guess we’re headed to the Static Sector.” I paused. “But not before I sample the drinks in this place.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Really?” Annalise said. “We don’t have time for—”

“There’s always time for a drink,” Snuggles interrupted, bouncing excitedly on my shoulder. “I’m with you, Kade. Let’s go to the bar.”

We approached the bar, navigating through a sea of bizarre patrons. The four-armed bartender turned to us, his LED face displaying a curious emoticon at the sight of Snuggles.

“What’ll it be, flesh bags... and, uh, stuffed bag?” he asked.

I leaned on the bar. “What’s good here?”

The bartender’s arms moved in a blur, pointing out various concoctions. “We’ve got the Quantum Quaff, the Binary Brew, and the Glitch Grog.”

“I’ll take the Glitch Grog,” I declared.

Snuggles piped up, “Ooh! I want the Binary Brew! Make it a double!”

Annalise tugged at my sleeve. “Guys, this is a bad idea.”

Ignoring her, I grabbed my static-filled glass as the bartender poured a thimble-sized amount of green liquid for Snuggles.

“Bottom’s up!” I announced, taking a big swig.

Instantly, my world went haywire. Colors inverted, sounds became visible, and my body felt like it was disassembling into pixels.

Meanwhile, Snuggles knocked back his tiny drink. His button eyes suddenly began to spin like slot machines, and his plush body inflated and deflated rapidly.

“01001000 01101111 01101100 01111001 00100000 01110011 01101000 01101001 01110100 00100001” Snuggles exclaimed in a robotic voice.

“What did he say?” Annalise asked, looking concerned. “Did you just break the plush?”

The bartender chuckled. “He said ‘Holy shit!’ in binary.”

I tried to respond, but only emoticons came out. 😵💫🤪👾

Snuggles, now floating a few inches above the bar, giggled. “Kade, your face is glitching worse than a crumpled VHS tape!”

I caught my reflection—my features were indeed scrambling like a crumpled video tape.

“I[bzzt]’m fi-fi-fine,” I stuttered, my voice jumping octaves.

Snuggles, still speaking in binary, seemed to be having the time of his life. He was now changing colors rapidly, cycling through neon shades that shouldn’t exist.

Annalise facepalmed. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

As the effects started to wear off, leaving me with a taste of static and Snuggles hiccupping small bursts of code, I grinned. “You know what? I think I’m starting to get the hang of this place. Another round!”

“01001000 01100101 01101100 01101100 00100000 01111001 01100101 01100001 01101000 00100001” Snuggles concurred.

Annalise groaned. “We’re doomed. You two are gonna doom us.”

The bartender’s LED face displayed a mischievous grin. “So, who’s ready to try the Quantum Quaff?”

“Hit me,” I said, slamming my hand on the bar with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm.

The bartender’s four arms moved in a whirlwind, mixing impossible ingredients. He poured the result into a glass that seemed to exist in multiple places at once.

“Here you go,” he said, all four of his arms simultaneously handing me an identical glass.

I reached for one, but my hand passed through it. Frowning, I tried another, only to find it solid. “What the—”

“It exists in all possible states until observed,” the bartender explained. “Choose wisely.”

Shrugging, I grabbed the nearest solid glass and took a swig. The taste was... everything. Literally everything. In the span of a second, I experienced every flavor that ever was or will be.

My mind reeled. I was everywhere and everywhen at once. I saw the birth of stars and the heat death of the universe. I tasted the first raindrop to fall on Earth and the last sunbeam to grace its surface. That’s how it felt, anyway.

“I... I understand everything,” I whispered in awe.

Snuggles, his code-speak finally wearing off, squinted at me. “Oh yeah? What’s the meaning of life, then?”

I opened my mouth to deliver the profound universal truth... and belched. A small galaxy swirled out, twinkling for a moment before popping out of existence.

“Huh,” Snuggles mused, “so that’s where all those lost socks go.”

Annalise, having had enough, grabbed my arm. “Okay, time to go now.”

As she dragged me toward the exit, I called back to the bartender, “Wait! I need to know—if a tree falls in a forest and no one’s around to hear it, does it—”

The door slammed behind us, cutting off my profound inquiry. As the quantum effects began to fade, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been on the verge of unlocking the secrets of the universe.

“Next time,” I muttered, “I’m trying the Schrödinger Shot. I hear you’re drunk and sober at the same time.”

Annalise just rolled her eyes and kept pulling me along, while Snuggles hummed what sounded suspiciously like the ‘Pink Panther’ theme in binary.

As we headed toward the Static Sector, I realized two things: one, my mouth tasted like I’d licked the Big Bang, and two, we were probably the least prepared heroes in the history of any world, digital or otherwise. But hey, at least we were going to face our doom with a sense of humor and the lingering effects of physics-defying alcohol. Somehow, that seemed fitting for this glitched-out adventure.

“I can’t take you two imbeciles anywhere,” Annalise said. “First you nearly get eaten by Siren Dolls, then you get drunk on... god knows what. What’s next, you’ll try to arm wrestle a sentient black hole?”

I stumbled along, the world still spinning slightly. “Hey, that sounds like a challenge. Where can we find one of those?”

Snuggles, now a shade of neon purple, hiccupped and a small burst of binary code floated out. “I bet I could take it. These guns aren’t just for show, you know.” He flexed his tiny plush arms.

Annalise sighed deeply. “Focus, you idiots. We have a mission, remember? Giant radio tower? Decibel Demons? Saving the city?”

“Right, right,” I nodded, trying to look serious but failing miserably as another miniature galaxy burped out of my mouth. “To the Static Sector!”

But no sooner had the words left my mouth, when a piercing siren shattered the air, its wail oscillating between ear-splitting highs and bone-rattling lows. The holographic billboards flickered and distorted, their images replaced by an ominous red warning sign.

A booming voice, seemingly emanating from every direction at once, thundered through the city: “ALERT! ALERT! The Decibel Demons have breached the outer defenses. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. All citizens seek shelter immediately!”

The streets erupted into chaos as NPCs scrambled for cover, their pixelated forms glitching in panic.

Then we heard it—a sound so awful, so fundamentally wrong, that it made my teeth ache and my vision blur. It was as if someone had taken nails on a chalkboard, mixed it with dial-up internet screeches, and amplified it through the world’s worst sound system.

“What the hell is that?” I shouted, my words nearly lost in the cacophony.

Snuggles, his plush paws clamped over where his ears should be, yelled back, “I think we’re about to find out!”

From around the corner, it came. The Decibel Demon burst into view, a nightmare given form. Its body was a writhing mass of speakers, subwoofers, and tangled audio cables, pulsing and undulating with each thunderous step. Where a head should have been, a massive gramophone horn sprouted, its opening a maw of jagged vinyl records that spun and grated against each other. Its arms were long, whip-like audio jacks that crackled with distorted energy. With each movement, it left trails of visible sound waves that distorted the very fabric of reality around it.

But its most terrifying feature was the void-like absence at its core—a black hole of anti-sound that seemed to suck in all noise around it, only to amplify and corrupt it before spewing it back out in waves of auditory torture.

The Decibel Demon’s attack was as swift as it was horrifying. Three unfortunate NPCs, frozen in terror, became its first victims.

The demon lashed out with one of its whip-like audio jack arms, wrapping it around the throat of some armored humanoid creature. As it tightened its grip, instead of strangling, it began to pump pure, corrupted sound directly into the humanoid’s body. The victim’s armor vibrated violently, rivets popping loose as the cacophony built inside him. Suddenly, in a gruesome display, the humanoid exploded from within, his body bursting apart in a shower of pixelated gore and fragmented code.

The second victim, a futuristic cyborg, tried to flee. The demon’s gramophone head swiveled, locking onto its prey. It unleashed a focused beam of concentrated sound, so intense it was visible as a distortion in the air. When it struck the cyborg, their cybernetic implants went haywire, sparking and overloading. The cyborg’s body began to glitch uncontrollably, their form stretching and compressing in impossible ways before collapsing in on itself, leaving behind only a small pile of twitching circuitry.

The demon’s final victim, a data merchant, met perhaps the most disturbing fate. The demon’s void-like core pulsed, and a vortex of anti-sound enveloped the screaming merchant. As we watched in horror, the merchant’s body began to unravel like a badly corrupted file, strips of their being peeling away and being sucked into the demon’s maw. In seconds, the merchant was gone, their entire existence deleted from the world.

As it spotted us, the Decibel Demon let out a roar that was less a sound and more a physical force. Windows shattered, the ground cracked, and I felt like my skull was going to split open.

“Run!” Annalise screamed, her voice barely audible over the onslaught of noise.

But as we turned to flee, we realized with horror that more Decibel Demons were appearing, their corrupted symphonies joining together in a hellish orchestra of destruction.

We were surrounded, caught in the epicenter of a sound storm that threatened to tear apart not just the city, but the very code of reality itself.