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Save Point 20

SAVE POINT 20

Cutscene 'The Great Escape' Loading...100%

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1105681459341172798/2a2c5a59-57e3-4bdf-a095-a48ac7ea99a4.png][https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1102021402707628096/1105681459756400672/d3a95c2b-def5-4173-aef2-c00852fec7d4.png]

Goran

The Game Wardens have been laughing and joking for over two hours around their pitiful excuse of a fire while I sit here shivering under this rock outcrop.

These utter assholes.

And they have you, Rosie.

But they don't have me—that's for damn sure.

I've waited for the correct moment—waited until I hear the big one's voice slur from the liquid he's been kicking back over his lips. I've seen that glass bottle before; it's been collecting dust on the shelf in the secret bunker for many a golden year. Because it's the very same whiskey that I put there the day you were born, Rosie.

They stole it from us, my dear Rosabella the Great. They stole from our bunker, and they stole our daughter too.

Don't worry, I won't let them have you, Rosie.

I won't let you slip between my fingers—not this time. Not ever. I'll do whatever I have to, and that's a promise. These monsters won't get away with their crimes; I'll kill every last one.

My wrists easily slip out of the rope bonds, only scratching slightly on the rough fabric. The weak, beanpole one had tied me up, shaking while he did it as I made sure to glower at him the entire time. Has no one learned to restrain people properly? Am I just a dinosaur—the last of a generation that can do this efficiently in our sleep?

I spit on the ground and silently work to untie the knots holding my legs together.

They want to play toy soldier?

They have no idea that they've just unleashed a nuclear threat that's gonna blow their little, plastic tents to the sky. ...Or melt them into fucking oblivion. No one angers Goran and gets away with it. These fuckers personally dug their own graves.

I spring to my feet, crouching behind the darkened holly bush—peering through the leaves at the campfire my captors gather around, drinking, eating and joking loudly.

I see you there, Rosie.

You're in your body armor again.

I thought they'd finally taken you home and safe, but here you are again.

I won't have it.

I always have to do things the hard way. You always make me do them the hard way. ...At any rate, my hand is forced.

I quickly grab for the weapons the Game Wardens stole from me: the dagger and bow and arrows. I throw the bow over my shoulder. And, unsheathing my dagger, I sprint up the hill and into the woods I know better than the back of my hand. Let them try to catch me now.

***

Early morning sun filters through the pointed, dark shafts of trees jabbing up into the sky. Most of The Gamers hate this part of the forest—the west side. The dragons and Darken burned it nearly to the ground several years back. No animals roam here because there's nothing to eat—making for fruitless hunting—and there's no cover either; the place is stripped bare. Nearly in its underwear, I chuckle to myself, relishing the thought of embarrassing this world that never did anything but despise me.

No new, green saplings shoot up from the dirt, and dead leaves that crunch under the soles of my sneakers.

There aren't even any bugs to swat at or squirrels to watch darting around tree trunks and roots.

This place is silent.

Lifeless.

Exactly how I like it.

I'm not afraid of 'silent' or 'lifeless'.

Or the echoing sound of my own movement as every fall of my sneakers goes:

Crunch.

Crunch.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Crunch.

In the dry leaves underfoot.

Or the dark cloud that hangs over the place in an ashen mist. A little fog doesn't bother me, nor the still, musky smell that lingers...

Dragon's breath.

I know what I'm here for, and I'm not afraid.

This is all for you, Rosie.

I crest the hill, looking down at the utter destruction of the forest for miles: black shards of the life that used to exist here, cracks snaking through the earth like we ruptured the very fabric of the universe...and the stone wall no one wants to be found near. In these parts, they call the stone wall The Blood Barrier because, if you find yourself on the other side of it without an invitation, you're as good as dead. I cock my head, looking at it with the slightest grin. All of that just...waiting for me.

...Like I know they are.

This place is always swarming with guards, though they'd never let you see them. They were trained in the old way...

Like me.

I sheathe my dagger and pull my bow over my arm instead. My fingers make quick work of the task as I attach a tiny scroll I'd worked on earlier to an arrow shaft with a short string.

I pull it tight—

Knotting the white string quickly even with large fingers.

Tugging on the message to make sure it's secure.

I lace the arrow—

Yank back the string, taking care to keep my form correct and my breathing even—

I release—

Hiss.

The sound vibrates in my ears, and the arrow flies, straight and strong.

Into the valley.

I watch as the tip of it buries in the old stone fence, the fletching on the end quivering.

And I watch them swarm—guards' bodies so camouflaged with their surroundings that it nearly looks as though the landscape is rippling...

Running...

Crouching...

Tensioning.

All armed.

All fierce with fighting skills to match.

Roughly a hundred bodies coming out of the woodwork like the most genius termites.

And I respect genius termites.

Especially ones with mega weapons.

Backed by the greatest dragon in the land—or the cruelest; both of those things are synonymous to me.

In fact, that's exactly who I've come to see.

That nasty dragon.

Before the guards rush to start up their flaming catapults or volley a million arrows precisely into my chest, I step out of the woods. I know how to play this act. I've done it before.

I drop the bow and dagger into the dead leaves.

I raise both palms in submission over my head.

And I watch as a huddle of them read the scroll I've written and attached to the arrow.

"I come in peace!" I yell across the vacant valley, "I come with a proposition that Ye Old One is gonna want to hear."

And it's to be expected that the guards turn towards me, metal clanging as their swords draw at once, rushing towards me with bloodlust in their eyes and tensing their fists wrapped around bludgeons and blades.

And it's to be expected that I let them come to me.

Unarmed.

Like a lamb to slaughter.

Except that I know they won't harm me.

...Ye Old One always loves a good business deal.

I'm doing all this for you, Rosie—I hope you'll see that eventually.

I'm only making a deal with the devil to free you from this place—these evil people and this terrible game. I'm ready to make the whole thing cannibalize itself; it's what they all deserve anyway.

"Did you read the note?" I shout as the first ones come barreling towards me.

Their muscular frames appear even larger underneath the layers of fabric of their warfare camouflage. Some of the guys literally look like boulders—their shoulders covered in moss, leaves and earth...their faces streaked with clay and black paint. They'd be terrifying to you, Rosie. But, to me, they just look like another lie.

Another game.

Another way out of this mess.

...Another way to get to you, Rosie. And I won't let them shake me. I'm good at deception. I've always got 20 aces in my pocket. And I will play one here. I won't let you or your mother down.

The first guard grabs me by the hair, pushing me to my knees. Pain rips through my skull, but I bite my lip to keep back a scream as my health bar flashes into view, luckily only lowering a little because of my endurance; these assholes don't know they're dealing with an experienced warrior.

The guard's face leans mockingly into mine, so coated in grime that I can only really make out the red and whites of his mocking eyes. ...The guy needs a shower. When they say death smells, they don't describe how it really is a certain flavor. Fearing I'll vomit, I try to hold my breath, but that's not a good long-term strategy—you know what I mean?

I grit my teeth and keep my face stone; it's the only way I'll get through this alive.

"The Commandress will decide what to do with you," the guard garbles, gnashing his teeth too close; his stinking breath invades my nostrils.

And the rest surround me in a swarm of loud, boisterous cries.

No one said they were advanced termites.

Only genius.

"Take me to your Commandress, then," I demand.

Like I'm in control.

Because I am.

Even if they don't know it yet. I'm going to bring down darkness on all this land, and their dragon is going to help me.