Leaving the tower behind, we headed back through the streets so we could leave the city, and not a moment too soon, as far as I was concerned. The wastelands outside may have been grim and filled with horrors, but this city we were in had messed with my head in more ways than one, and I was glad to be leaving it behind.

The streets themselves were a warzone, bloody evidence of the Decibel Demons’ destructive power, as if any were even needed. Broken bodies littered the ground, their pixelated forms frozen in final poses of terror and agony. Some poor bastards had been literally torn apart by sonic waves, their dismembered limbs scattered across the cobblestones like macabre confetti. The air was thick with the acrid stench of fried circuitry and corrupted data.

Buildings that once stood proud now slouched drunkenly, their structures half-dissolved into unstable masses of glitching architecture. Walls flickered in and out of existence, revealing glimpses of shattered interiors where furniture floated in defiance of gravity. Neon signs sputtered weakly, their messages garbled into nonsensical strings of characters that hurt the eyes to look at.

The few survivors we encountered shuffled about in a daze, their forms occasionally distorting as if struggling to maintain coherence. One NPC, his lower half reduced to a tangle of exposed wires, dragged himself along the ground, leaving a trail of binary code in his wake.

“Jesus,” I muttered, sidestepping a pool of what looked like liquefied computer components. “It’s like someone put the entire city in a blender and hit puree.”

Annalise nodded grimly, her eyes scanning the devastation. “Yeah, and we’re walking through what came out. Let’s just hope we don’t run into any more surprises before we reach the city limits.”

Snuggles, perched on my shoulder, was waving at people like the goddamn king on parade. “No need to thank me,” he was saying. “All in a days work for old Snuggles here.”

“Snuggles, what the hell are you doing?” I asked. “This isn’t a ticker tape parade, you know. These people are traumatized. More are dead.”

“Yeah, whatever. They’ll get over it. The AI will just fill the city with new NPCs once we’re gone.”

“Just like that,” Annalise said.

“You two need to remember that we’re in a game here,” Snuggles said. “This entire city is here just so we could do that quest. Same as all these NPCs you see.”

“But they’re all repurposed souls,” Annalise insisted. “They were real people once.”

“They still are. It’s just now they’re… something else.”

“My point exactly. Their real selves are still in there. Same as you, you blue furry imp.”

Snuggles sighed. “Whatever. I don’t make the rules in this place. Rip out that bleeding heart of yours and stamp on it, for your own sake.”

“Come to the afterlife, become a raging psychopath!” Annalise declared. “Lose every ounce of humanity you ever had!”

“You still don’t get it, do you, Ninja Girl?”

“Get what?” I asked.

“That humanity was all a lie from the start,” Snuggles said. “What you call humanity is just a carefully crafted illusion, a false construct programmed into you by the Overseers.”

He shook his tiny plush head, his button eyes gleaming with cynicism. “Your precious morals, your emotions, your sense of right and wrong—it’s all just lines of code, my friends. The Overseers designed humans to be the perfect little batteries, complete with a built-in system of ethics to keep you in line and maximize their energy harvesting.”

Snuggles gestured around at the devastated cityscape. “You think this is inhumane? Cruel? That’s just your programming talking. In reality, it’s all just data being reorganized. Those NPCs aren’t really suffering—they’re just executing their designated scripts.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Hell, even your memories of Earth are probably fabrications. For all you know, you popped into existence the moment you arrived in Infernum, complete with a backstory to make you feel all warm and fuzzy about your ‘humanity’.”

“But that can’t be true,” I protested, feeling a chill run down my spine. “Our experiences, our feelings—they’re real. I know they are.”

“Oh, they feel real, sure,” Snuggles conceded. “That’s the point. But at the end of the day, you’re just sophisticated programs running on cosmic hardware. The sooner you accept that, the easier it’ll be to survive in this place.”

Annalise frowned, her fists clenching at her sides. “Even if that’s true, which I’m not saying it is, doesn’t that just mean we should cling to our humanity even harder? If it’s all we have, shouldn’t we cherish it?”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Snuggles shrugged. “Your call, toots. But don’t be surprised when that ‘humanity’ gets you killed. In Infernum, it’s adapt or die. And let me tell you, dying here isn’t the end—it’s just the beginning of a whole new kind of hell.”

As we continued through the ruined streets, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Snuggles’ words had planted in my mind. What if he was right? What if everything I believed about myself was just an elaborate lie?

I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the path ahead. Real or not, my humanity was all I had left—and I wasn’t ready to let it go just yet.

* * *

Once we left the city and walked out a bit, we turned around just in time to see the entire place glitch out of existence, disappearing to god knows where.

“And just like that,” Snuggles said, “it’s gone.”

“Gone where?” I asked.

“To some other part of Limbo probably. It’ll reset so other players can adventure in it.”

I looked out across the wastelands, which appeared to have changed somewhat while we were in Glitch Haven. Neon-colored tumbleweeds rolled across the ashen plains, their electric hues a stark contrast to the blood-red sky. In the distance, a colossal Rubik’s Cube rose from the ground, its sides constantly shifting and rearranging themselves with an ominous grinding sound.

To our left, a forest of petrified trees loomed, their branches adorned with dangling Walkman cassette players and tangled ribbons of magnetic tape. The wind whistling through the lifeless woods carried faint echoes of tinny synth-pop.

A decrepit billboard stood nearby, its faded surface advertising New Coke: Now with 50% More Existential Dread!

The skeletal remains of what might have been a DeLorean were half-buried in the ashy soil, its gull-wing doors reaching toward the sky like the arms of a desperate supplicant.

In the far distance, a mountain range resembled a giant ghetto blaster, its peaks shaped like oversized buttons and dials. Occasionally, a booming bass line would emanate from it, shaking the very ground beneath our feet.

Scattered across the wasteland were islands of anachronistic suburban scenes—a lone mall food court here, a video arcade there—all crumbling and warped as if viewed through a malfunctioning VHS player.

“Jesus,” I muttered, shaking my head at the bizarre scenery. “It’s like the entire decade threw up out here and nobody bothered to clean it up.”

Snuggles nodded sagely from my shoulder. “Welcome to Infernum’s version of memory lane, kids. Where nostalgia comes to die... and then gets reanimated as a brain-hungry zombie with a penchant for leg warmers.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I need to rest up for an hour in my SC,” I said. “I have a feeling the next Trial location will be announced soon. If we’re gonna be running again, I need energy.”

“Fair enough,” Snuggles said. “One hour. Then we’re on the move again. We should really be using this time to grind up our skills. Plenty of mobs out there just waiting to test us.”

“I feel like I’ve been tested enough for now,” Annalise said. “I’m with Kade. I need to rest.” She paused. “And also, is no one going to talk about the elephant in the room here?”

I looked across at her. “The broadcast, you mean?”

“Yes. What was that about? It sure didn’t seem like part of the game.”

“It wasn’t,” Snuggles said. “I’d heard rumors before, but that broadcast just confirmed it.”

“Rumors of what?” I asked. “That there’s some organization out there rebelling against the Overseers?”

“Yes, though I don’t like talking about it.”

“Why not?” Annalise said. “This is a big deal.”

“Precisely. It is a big deal, and that’s why the show runners don’t like players to talk about it. You go on about it too much and you might find yourself being taken out of the game. I’ve seen it happen. Players just… disappear.”

“Does that mean there’s some truth to it then?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Snuggles said. “Who knows? Why, do you want to join them? Fight against the Overseers?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, yeah. I mean, I’ve never liked this whole setup anyway, so—”

“Careful, Kade. People are listening. You want my advice? Forget you ever heard that broadcast and just get on with the game.”

“That’s not likely to happen. Not now. I want to know what ‘hidden’ thing they were referring to. Sounds like it might explain some things, whatever it is.”

Snuggles sighed. “Haven’t you been listening? Do you really think the show runners are gonna let you discover what that is? They wouldn’t take the risk of a rebellion starting here.”

I looked across at Annalise. “What do you think?”

Annalise’s brow furrowed as she considered the question, her eyes scanning our surroundings warily before answering. “I think... Fuck, I don’t know what to think. Snuggles has a point, though. If we start poking around where we don’t belong, we’ll paint targets on our backs.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Maybe we play along,” she said. “We keep competing in the Trials, keep giving them a show. But all the while, we keep our eyes open. Maybe this ‘hidden’ thing isn’t something we find, but something we piece together.”

Snuggles groaned, shaking his head. “Great. I’m stuck with a couple of wannabe revolutionaries. Just remember, when this all goes sideways—and it will—I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ as we’re being deleted from existence.”

I clapped Snuggles on his little plush back. “Noted, pal. But come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it back in Glitch Haven, along with my sanity and any hope for a peaceful afterlife,” Snuggles retorted.

“Well, I’m not turning my back on this thing,” I said. “I’ve hated this bullshit situation from the start. It’s cruel and unusual, and it treats souls like we’re nothing but disposable playthings for some cosmic assholes’ entertainment. If there’s even a chance that we can fight back, that we can expose whatever lies the Overseers have been feeding us, I’m in. I didn’t ask to be here, didn’t sign up for any of this bullshit. But if I’m going to be forced to play, you can bet your ass I’m going to try and flip the board.”

I looked at Annalise and Snuggles, my eyes blazing with newfound purpose. “Think about it. What if we could free everyone trapped in this hellhole? What if we could stop the Overseers from snatching more innocent souls for their sick amusement? Whatever truth the Nyxarion Liberation Front is fighting for, I want in. Even if it’s just to stick it to those bastards running this shitshow. And I don’t care if that’s just my ‘programming’ talking. If having a conscience, if giving a damn about others is a glitch in their system, then let’s be the biggest, baddest glitch they’ve ever seen. So, what do you say? Ready to raise a little hell in Hell?”

Snuggles sighed. “I wish I’d picked someone else to bond to instead of you Kade.”