Joe felt as his walls were breached and broken. He didn’t resist, as what he felt wasn’t pain, but great relief.

He had been trapped in that place for thirty years. Thirty long years. Even if he had been sleeping for most of the time, it was still a long time nonetheless.

The people coming from the outside were mostly orcs and half-orcs.

- Marcus?

Joe was a bit confused. The old colleague had managed to get in, that he could understand, but why was he still playing house with his “Kingdom”?

He remembered listening to him saying things like “I just want to retire” and “god, how long until I’ve made enough to drop this show already?!”. Why would he remain being a “King” if he disliked that so much?

“Doesn’t matter. I can ask him later.” - That was what he had decided. For thirty years he had slept in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Not even a single player had managed to get to him, what wasn’t that much of a surprise - there were only so many players in the game, and it was a huge game. What benefit was there for people to go to the middle of nowhere if only to search for a late-game NPC to mess with?

The original “living fortress” had no core, no magic properties and no master. Even if it were to be possessed, it would only be as useful as a regular mid-level dungeon.

Once defeated, it would produce a certain Quest Item which was needed to unlock the Angelic Demon race. However, there was no need, and no desire, to do so at the moment - even because, the Angelic Demon race wasn’t currently habilitated, or even properly designed. Just like many other races programmed to be implemented in future game patches, the Angelic Demon race was one of those that had an entry on the game’s Deep Code but didn’t wasn’t properly designed, and those kinds of races wouldn’t be playable - in fact, not even NPC’s of these races would be found around.

Was it really worthy the trouble to look for it?

He had been left abandoned.

But now, he could finally rejoice as his many layers of absurdly sturdy walls crumbled one after the other.

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***

- Let’s go back to the start, shall we?

The policewoman in front of her seemed reliable and happy on the outside, it’s well-proportioned and trained body somewhat resembling the one of a female judo competitor.

It was a body that exuded a “don’t mess with me” feeling, coupled with a friendly attitude. Christina felt specially assured in the first hours of interrogation, due to that.

However, now, such body weighted on her brain, as the pressure of hours upon hours of being asked the same questions over and over again sipped into her brain.

She knew people would try to frame her in all possible ways - news about neo-squeamers killing people were honey in the eyes of most people - the police included, as their station would have a bargain chip to get more founds.

“We got a neo-squeamer murderer near us. We need more founds, so that won’t repeat itself!” - Is what most would say.

And, for a while, it would indeed work. After all, nothing better for city councilors and other small-scale politicians than to feed on this kind of opportunity.

It wasn’t like they would frame her. Christina knew it. But they would probe and snitch at every single minimum thing they could find. The hidden neuroset on her grandmother’s room was one of them, of course.

- You said you didn’t knew about the hidden neuroset on your grandmother’s room, right?

- Yes, that is right.

- Then, did you say you knew about the small glue and wood splinters on the ground? That they used to appear when you cleaned her room?

- No.

- So, you wouldn’t find any wood splinters when you cleaned your grandmother’s room? Not even when you were scrubbing the floor?

Christina felt her eyes getting heavy. Scrubbing the floor? She never scrubbed a floor in her life, what was the point?!

- No, I didn’t use to clean my grandmother’s room, she cleaned it by herself.

- Now, that’s… that’s a thing I can’t understand right there.

‘This again’ - Christina couldn’t but roll her eyes once the policewoman started with the whole “how could your grandmother clean her own room if she was on a wheelchair all the time?!” thing.

She had a pair of hands and an adapted broom for the daily needs and money to hire someone to clean it when she wanted to!

She had never asked Christina to clean her room before!

- Now, that’s so weird, why wouldn’t a grandmother ask her granddaughter for help sometimes… are you sure you aren’t forgetting about something?

And the thing went on and on.

***

Sasha had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling. Her intuition was telling her that things wouldn’t end up well for her, but there was nothing she could do, except wait and watch.

Five days later, a small ray of light entered the celling above her head. The Living Fortress had finally been completely destroyed, and her savior’s face’s could be seen. The green, greedy and aggressive faces with savage grinds would cause anyone to notice that they weren’t brave knights in shiny armor. Not at all.