Following the frightening episode in which Marie had volunteered to leave the ruins, only to be restrained by both Judd’s words and the grace of God, the following week seemed totally mundane by comparison.
Sure, it was still pretty unreal that Judd was dead. He’d lived his twenty-one years and change on Earth, expecting that when he ultimately succumbed to the fate that awaited all humans, he would finally get to be with the Good Lord for all eternity. Everything he’d done up to that point was focused on achieving that very goal.
And now, when he finally reached the end of his Earthly life, he’d been so close to the Kingdom of Heaven, and yet, just like that character from a classic comic book, the proverbial football had been yanked away from underneath Judd’s foot.
Still, Judd couldn’t allow himself to get too dejected. He needed to remember that his presence at Jet Force Isekai was just an intermediate step, something that needed to happen before his soul could go all the way. Every day he spent here, each mission he passed with as high a score as possible, was another chance to show God that he, Judd, was worthy of passage into His Kingdom.
A day passed. By the time Judd woke on the second morning after his second mission, he no longer felt so much fury toward Marie. The residual anger was still there, of course, and some of it would probably never leave him. But Judd knew he needed to keep his eyes on the prize by any means necessary, and that wouldn’t happen if he continued holding grudges. (It’s been said that holding grudges is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies - Judd liked to think he subscribed to that notion).
Over the course of the next week, the four residents of Cabin Gemini went about their normal routine. Without the thrilling excitement of a mission, the looming threat of banishment,or the ritual consisting of torches and a speech by Guildmistress Toriel, every hour felt achingly similar.
Soon, they were back to their old ways. Judd found himself praying once almost every hour, reaching out desperately for any method of deliverance from this purgatory. He wanted to believe that his faith had been renewed with a newfound zeal, a vigor that could only be experienced when you knew you were in the presence of the Lord’s love.
However, what Judd could not admit to the others, perhaps not even to himself, was that it increasingly seemed as though he were talking to a void. That is not to say he had any doubts about God’s existence, or even His willingness to help Judd through his trials. But even the Good Lord’s willingness to assist Judd had its limits, and increasingly the young man found himself repeating the following refrain:
God helps those who help themselves.
Judd made the mistake of saying this out loud during his prayer on Sunday night. Predictably, it sent Sophie’s eyes rolling.
“Do you not understand how ridiculous you just sounded, Judd?”
“What do you mean?”
Sophie snorted at him. “You just said God helps those who help themselves. Does that mean you should pull yourself up by your bootstraps just like they always say in America?”
“Well, it’s true,” Judd stated. “The Lord helps those who help themselves.”
“If that is in fact the case,” Sophie remarked, “then why bother praying? Why not just take action? Thoughts and prayers won’t fix any of the massive problems in your country, and it certainly won’t get you to heaven!”
“I’m helping myself,” Judd insisted. “Did you see the 94 I got on my last mission?”
Sophie narrowed her eyes, huffing and puffing so hard she might well have been able to blow a house down. “It doesn’t matter what number you got, Judd. What matters is that you’re still here - you escaped this week’s banishment.”
Judd felt like saying that he held out a seed of hope, even if it was only a one-in-a-million chance, that failing a mission meant you moved on to the next afterlife, which was the one guarded behind the pearly gates. But Sophie seemed to read his mind here.
“Trust me, Judd,” she continued. “You don’t want to be banished.”
Judd frowned. “Why should I trust you when all we ever do is fight? Seriously, it’s like we’re in a constant war of words!”
“And whose fault is that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Judd muttered.
“That’s right, Judd! It doesn’t matter who started this verbal battle! What matters is that we’ve got to make the best of our situation! And that means you cannot be banished.”
Both of them turned in soon after that; somehow, Marie and Jessica had not been roused by their argument. However, Judd came to a realization later that shook him to his very core.
A few days ago, prior to the second mission, Sophie probably wouldn’t have shed a tear if Judd were banished. Now, however, she acted as though banishment were a fate she wouldn’t wish upon her worst enemy. She didn’t even speak about what she thought banishment actually entailed, but she didn’t need to, because Judd came to a simple conclusion:
Sophie knows something I don’t. She’s keeping it from me because she doesn’t think I can handle the truth. But maybe she’ll tell Marie and Jessica, since women always say that girls mature faster than boys.
This, however, raised three further questions. What did Sophie know? When did she know it? And for how long did she want to keep Judd (and possibly her other two bunkmates) in the dark?
Judd pondered those questions for the next few days. Considering how little else there was to do between their Friday missions, he sure had plenty of time to think.
In the midst of all that, he’d almost totally memory-holed catching Toriel on the phone last Friday. Who the hell was Mr. Kipper, and what did he have to do with the guildmistress?
So Judd occasionally allowed his mind to wander, concocting theories about who Toriel’s unknown correspondent was and why they’d been talking to one another. Some of these theories would have been laughed off as totally bonkers, such as the idea that Mr. Kipper was a married man cheating with his “mistress” (his affair partner being the guild mistress, Toriel). But in an afterlife society where you repeatedly transformed into a Pokémon and were sent to the planet’s surface to complete weekly missions, and its members were periodically banished by having their torches snuffed at an amphitheater ceremony, could such a theory be dismissed out of hand?
No. Of course not. Nothing was so absurd that it couldn’t possibly be true. Not now, and not ever. And as stated above, Judd had nothing but time, at least until next Friday.
----------------------------------------
Judd ate breakfast in the pavilion on Friday morning, just like he had every other day here. The mixed berry pancakes were objectively scrumptious, but he found himself unable to enjoy them.
Today’s the day, he thought bitterly, glancing over at Sophie. I’ve been paired with my other two bunkmates for missions. I guess now I have to work with Sophie.
Sophie, on the other hand, averted her eyes from Judd. It seemed as though she were determined not to acknowledge him, as though she knew she’d soon have to bid him a tearful goodbye. But Judd tried not to think about what that might mean - perhaps Sophie just wanted to avoid getting in another feud with her bunkmate. If that’s it, I don’t blame her at all.
Of course, given how Sophie had been acting over the last few days, Judd would not have been surprised at all if she was in fact worried for his future. He might have excelled in the first two tasks he’d been set, but he couldn’t excel forever.
Judd felt like going over and asking Mizar for some wisdom - over the last two weeks, they’d developed a bond, even if they disagreed on metaphysical matters. But alas, he just didn’t get around to it.
Oh well. There’ll be plenty of time to talk to him tomorrow.
Eventually Lucas snapped his fingers again, and the plates were cleared away. As he had the last two Fridays, the Lucario went around, handing each diner a piece of paper. Lucas paused every so often as though trying to build suspense, but there was no suspense to be had when they were likely all paired with their bunkmates.
When the Lucario reached the table containing all four members of Cabin Gemini, he handed each of the three ladies a slip of paper. As for Judd, he remained empty-handed.
“There must be a mistake,” Judd remarked. “I’m supposed to be working with one of you.”
Lucas shook his head. “There is no mistake. But please refrain from interrupting the process in the future, or you may risk having points deducted from your score in future missions.”
“Right” Judd muttered, still combing his brain for what could possibly be the reason for not getting paper.
“Judd,” Jessica told him softly, “the three of us ladies are together.”
Of course.
When he’d first arrived, Judd had loudly insisted to Sophie that just because he was from the Midwest, that didn’t mean he was stupid. He still didn’t want to agree with that, but his slip-up only gave Sophie more ammunition to claim her point was correct.
“So that means I’m alone,” Judd mouthed. A statement, not a question.
“Yes,” Sophie replied. “Some of the missions are solo ones, don’t you know? You’ll live or die by your own skills today.”
“Well, in that case, I hope I live.”
Soon enough the drinks were distributed, with Judd’s being the same icy blue color that Jessica’s had been two weeks before. From what he’d remembered, it had caused his bunkmate some discomfort to turn into a Glaceon, but Judd knew what needed to be done. Sitting around and gazing warily at the icy blue drink did not fall under the category of “what needed to be done.”
So he held up that Dixie cup and tipped the contents down his throat. He didn’t even allow himself to swallow until the drink was entirely in, and he closed his eyes as he braced for the coming pain.
Sure enough, ice soon flooded his body, making it almost difficult to breathe. Judd’s head also hurt, as though he’d just wolfed down a giant bowl of ice cream, and he had to decide between clutching his head or his stomach. The pain made him woozy, and he was forced to plant his ass more firmly on that bench to avoid falling over.
On the bright side, at least I don’t have to become an Electric-type today.
That was cold comfort, no pun intended, when he doubled over and tried not to moan. Luckily, the transformation was over this time almost as suddenly as it had begun.
Judd was faced with the same black screen, the same white text. Once more, he tried to burn the instructions into his retinas, even more important now that he wouldn’t have any allies on this mission. He had to assume every character he interacted with would be hostile.
These were the instructions:
SYLLABUS FOR MISSION 3: LAVA OR LEAVE ‘EM
YOU ARE: JUDD ASGARD (PIPLUP)
OBJECTIVES:
* INFILTRATE THE LECTURE HALL AND SIT IN ON MAGIC CLASS, TAKING NOTES (25 POINTS)
* PRESENT NOTES TO THE INSTRUCTOR AND LEAVE MAGIC CLASS (20 POINTS)
* USE INFORMATION FROM NOTES TO GAIN ACCESS TO THE FORGE(25 POINTS)
* STEAL AT LEAST ONE WEAPON FROM THE BRAIXEN HORDE (20 POINTS)
* ESCAPE FROM ZANDARI’S FORGE (10 POINTS)
ADDITIONAL STIPULATION: YOU WILL BE INVISIBLE UNTIL YOU SPEAK OR ATTACK.
SAY MISSION NAME TO CONTINUE.
That mission sounded convoluted enough at first, and Judd knew it would be quite the task to remember everything. He repeated the instructions over and over again in his mind, knowing that he wouldn’t have another chance to view them. Only when he felt reasonably confident in his ability to remember the syllabus’ content did he utter the words “Lava or leave ‘em”.
The instructions were daunting enough. The reality was far worse.
As soon as Judd opened his eyes, the landscape shimmered all around him, and he was forced to shut his peepers once again. Sweat radiated off his body as he realized that the hottest Kansas summer he’d lived through was a veritable blizzard compared to wherever he found himself now.
How could I have been so stupid?
Accepting the icy drink was one of those moments Judd replayed in his mind over and over, even though he knew deep down there was nothing else he could have done. But that didn’t stop him from second-guessing.
Maybe I should have just volunteered to be banished like Marie almost did. At least that would be quicker than this, and I don’t care what Sophie says!
As Judd awkwardly got to his feet, glancing around the shimmering corridor, he remembered that he had a panic button. If he so chose, all he needed to do was say the name of the mission, and then he’d have a one-way ticket out of this fiery hall. He’d also have a one-way ticket Elsewhere, but he could cross that bridge when he came to it.
Judd resisted the temptation for now, gazing around the corridor. The air was so thick with steam that it gave him eyestrain, as though he were inside a furnace. However, he was able to make out a set of lockers, at which two bipedal fox-like Pokémon (probably in their early teens) were chatting about something.
This is a school for Braixen. But why is it inside what seems to be a volcano?
That’s right. Braixen are Fire-types, so of course they’d have their academies somewhere hot. I just wish it didn’t have to be THIS hot.
Suddenly, the bell rang, and one of the Braixen gasped. “Billy, we’ve got to get to class! We’re late!”
“Jimmy, you’re right! Let’s get going!”
Judd figured he was supposed to follow the Braixen duo, but every step of his slipped on the ground as though it were an ice rink. That’s when he remembered he was a Piplup, a penguin-like creature who waddled just like penguins did on Earth.
What a cruel joke. Whether or not this mission had been doled out to Judd as retaliation for insulting Lucas, it was certainly punishment. Not only was Judd probably inside a volcano, he’d been made an Ice-type for the task. This inferno was no place for such a creature. Given that context, mere temporary invisibility felt like an insult to injury, as though they were plainly trying to placate him without actually helping matters.
Well, here I am. I have to roll with it - “trial by fire”, as they say.
After waddling awkwardly, slipping and sliding down the hallway in an effort to keep up without yelping and blowing his cover, Judd saw that the pair of Braixen, Billy and Jimmy, were entering what looked like a classroom. Neither of them were so kind as to hold the door open, so Judd was forced to open said door himself.
As Judd took one of the few empty seats in the cavernous lecture hall, one of the students wrinkled her nose. “What was that?”
The teacher, an elderly Delphox carrying a walking stick, croaked out the following: "What do you mean, Kara?”
Judd grimaced, careful not to say anything. The first word he uttered, he would be totally exposed, and the Meowth would be well and truly out of the bag.
“The door just swung open!” Kara complained. “There was a cold breeze, too!”
Judd’s face felt even hotter, if that were possible, and he could barely breathe now. He suddenly felt certain that even the slightest whistle of his nose would be enough to break the invisibility. And even if it didn’t, Judd would probably still be audible.
“Well, fear not, Kara. This classroom is perfectly safe. Let us begin our lesson in Magic 101.”
Judd saw that a mechanical pencil and a notebook sat before him. Clearly, he was meant to take notes on it; hadn’t the syllabus told him to do just that? If he tried, wouldn’t it be rather suspicious to have a floating mechanical pencil producing notes on the paper?
As soon as he touched the pencil, however, it vanished. He still held it, but he could no longer see that he held it. Apparently he had the “invisible touch”, much like the golden touch from that false Greek myth about Midas.
When the paper disappeared, the male Braixen to Judd’s right looked visibly confused - he could practically see a question mark over that Braixen’s head like this was an old-school cartoon. But Judd couldn’t worry about that yet, because the teacher then began lecturing.
“Class, I can tell that all of you have evolved into Braixen by now. Now, what is special about our species is the tradition of magic that has been passed down to us through generations of ancestors. We are the heirs to that magic, and it is our birthright - when our species dies out, it will die with us.
“As you continue to grow following your evolution, you may notice that your voice gets deeper, your armpits begin smelling bad after you exercise, and you feel awkward and clumsy on occasion when you walk. These changes are perfectly normal and happen to all young Braixen.”
Well, isn’t that great? He’s teaching us about puberty.
Judd’s secondary school education on such topics had left some significant gaps, possibly owing to the fact that his was a religious academy. That being said, Judd had heard some things about the changes an adolescent body went through; hell, he’d experienced those changes himself. He could practically hear the theme song of his Earthly friend Eric’s favorite TV show.
Of course, Judd figured that he should be taking notes (that’s what the syllabus had prescribed, after all), but the problem was that he didn’t know what to write down and what to ignore. To some extent, he’d had difficulty with this in high school, but these students looked like they were in 8th grade, maybe 9th grade at most. Why was the material so difficult for him? Moreover, how many notes should he take?
“Now, another thing that happens as your body matures into adulthood is that the range of spells you can use will expand. This number grows quickly at first, but its growth will decrease as years pass. Can any of you tell me what the fancy term for that equation is?”
No paws were raised, so the teacher cleared his throat eventually.
“The term I was looking for is logistic growth. The power of your spells, of course, may not decay, but magic is like a muscle. If you do not use magic now, your ability to use magic in the future will atrophy over time, which is why you must always keep your mind sharp!”
Judd turned his eyes toward the blackboard. The old Delphox was clearly writing something there, but the invisible Piplup’s eyes were far too glazed-over to make the text or diagrams out. All of this came to a head when the Delphox called on one of the Braixen students to repeat what he’d just said.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Delgado! What did I just tell you?”
The Braixen identified as Delgado, who was currently busy covering the pages of his notepad with elaborate graffiti, looked up and blanched at the mention of his name. “Uh…what do you mean?”
“What Pokémon species’ antlers are used to make our wands?”
“Uh…” Delgado mouthed, trailing off. “I don’t know.”
“That’s right!”, the elderly instructor exclaimed. “ You don’t know, because you had an open notebook in front of you and kept your nose in it the whole time I was lecturing! Tell me, Delgado, do you want to be assigned remedial lessons on how to respect your elders?”
“No…no, sir” Delgado stammered, shivering in his seat despite the heat.
“Then quit daydreaming and focus on what I’m saying!” the Delphox bellowed so loudly that a bit of dirt fell down from the ceiling, landing a few desks away from Judd’s. And this reminder that the roof of the cavern was so fragile made Judd feel well and truly trapped here. He knew now with absolute certainty: He was in the middle of a volcano.
And yet, he still had to take notes on a lecture for a class that didn’t pertain to him. The next forty-five minutes or so were a textbook example of “hurry up and wait.” After racing to follow Billy and Jimmy to class, Judd had now been sitting here so long his Piplup feet were starting to fall asleep. In fact, his whole body was on the edge of drifting off, and it was only through telling himself that snoring probably counted as speaking that he was able to remain awake.
The superheated, stuffy air of the lecture hall didn’t exactly help matters either. Judd’s eyes were glazed over not only with boredom, but also with sweat. This mission was very cruel indeed.
At long last, the teacher announced that he was done with his lecture, and the students sprang to their feet in unison. Many of them thanked the instructor as they showed him their notes, but most of these students probably didn’t mean it.
“I hope my notes were detailed enough,” one female student told another in little more than a whisper. “You know how he is - won’t let us leave class until we’ve gotten at least this many words down.”
“You could also look at it from the perspective of making sure we’re prepared for the exam,” the other Braixen girl said. “He doesn’t wanna have to fail us.”
“Anika! Sierra! Please don’t talk as you are leaving the lecture hall! Thank you!”
Anika and Sierra showed their notes to their teacher and were permitted to leave the room. Then it was Judd’s turn.
There’s a line behind me, so I can’t hesitate for too long. But how the hell is he not going to know that I’m here and snuck invisibly into his class?
Judd took a deep breath and flung his paper notes onto the table. They became visible in midair as they descended slowly, like a skydiver under the canopy, and Judd pictured the other students scratching their heads for days wondering how notes had slipped out of someone’s backpack.
But then he was free. School was out - hopefully forever.
I pity all these Pokémon who will have to sit an exam on this material. There’s no way in any life that I could memorize all that stuff, no matter how much time they allotted me.
Amidst all the “excitement” of his first objective, Judd had nearly forgotten what the mission’s syllabus said. He was fairly sure he’d completed two of the objectives, those being attending class and taking notes. That left three more to go.
Judd shut his eyes and pictured the instructions. And, to paraphrase an Internet meme back on Earth, “it was then that he knew he’d fucked up.”
I should have just kept the notes. Apparently they’d have told me how to infiltrate the forge!
No…this is bad! Should I abort the mission right now by shouting the phrase?
What? No! I don’t even remember the phrase, even if I’ll need it eventually!
It all seemed well and truly hopeless until one half of a Braixen duo, standing alone and talking as though they were friends, gave Judd the information he needed. This surely hadn’t been intentional, and it wasn’t all good either.
“The forge is down the hall and to the left. They say the passcode is 218978113. But that’s just a legend, isn’t it?”
Judd pictured those numbers in his mind, fervently hoping that his working memory (which was typically nothing to write home about) would be able to bail him out this time. The universe had handed him a lifeline, the sort of which only came once a lifetime, if at all. Judd’s only reaction to that news was…
“Thanks!” he exclaimed.
And then he knew he’d fucked up again, because he realized his mistake too late. As though he’d never been there to begin with, Judd’s impossibly awkward Piplup arms and webbed foot paws came into view. There would be no deus ex machina to get him out of this one.
“Oh my Arceus!” one of the Braixen exclaimed. “Brian, it’s a Piplup!”
The other Braixen, evidently Brian, glared at Judd. “How could this be real, Jerry?”
Brian and Jerry glanced at one another, which gave Judd the perfect chance to run away. Naturally, the faster he tried to move, the more he slipped and slid like this was one of those backyard toys used to cool off in the summer.
Eventually, Judd fell flat on his face, and this wasn’t good, because he found himself in a more heavily populated area this time. Students were leaving class, traveling to their next class, and gasping for breath at the sight of an Ice-type in the midst of their volcanic school!
The Piplup got to his feet, his heart pounding so powerfully that the pumping noise was all he could hear. He scampered down the hall and recalled one of the boys’ directions to take a left here. (Had it been Brian or Jerry? Judd would never know, and it didn’t even matter.)
The door to the forge, held firmly shut by a series of chains and padlocks, stood right in front of Judd. He knew it was the forge because the door literally said WELCOME TO ZANDARI’S FORGE on it in bright red block letters. The Piplup tried to remember what he’d been told the code was - amidst the commotion of the hallway, it was easy to forget such things.
Two. One. Eight. Nine. Seven. Eight. One. One. Three. Is that the sort of code that an AI would be able to hack?
Judd held out for the microscopically thin chance, the “Hail Mary” as Catholics would say, that the Braixen boy’s recollection of the passcode would be correct. Such information should have been highly classified, but as it turned out, all Judd needed to do was press the green button.
The numerous locks immediately and audibly disengaged, and the door swung wide open to allow Judd through. Apparently there were still some codes that artificial intelligence was no match for.
But Judd had very little time to celebrate, for he ran through the door and found himself in an area that was even hotter. Seriously, the classroom had been like the dwarf planet Pluto compared to this room.
Indeed, the word “room” didn’t do it justice - the area was more like a cavern. Metallic clangs of metal against metal sounded, as did the pneumatic, hissing noises of heavy machinery. A conveyor belt and a veritable maze of catwalks stood above him, each one carrying a weapon like a sword, spear, ax, crossbow, etc. There were even a few firearms (emphasis on fire). Finally, a raging river could be heard beneath him - a river of pure fire, judging by how the floor felt like the edge of a furnace cranked up as high as it’d go.
This is exactly what I’d imagine hell to look like.
Standing next to one of the humming machines were a pair of adult male Braixen. One of the men examined the touch screen on the machine’s console, whereas the other glanced at his colleague with a quizzical look.
“Why are you so determined to create all these metal weapons?” the latter Braixen asked his colleague.
“Why not?”
“I mean, Slade, we have wands. We have magic. We don’t even need advanced technology if we just use magic.”
Slade glared back at his co-worker. “Amos, you have two choices here. We can use magic, or we can use magic plus technology. What do we have to lose?”
“Quite a lot,” Amos muttered. “Think of all the effort it takes to maintain heavy artillery. And again, we don’t need weapons other than our Sawsbuck-antler wands.”
So THAT was the answer that poor kid missed in class. At least I know one thing Delgado doesn’t.
“What’s so great about these wands?”
“Well, they’re a renewable resource. Sawsbuck antlers grow back after a few weeks. There are only so many metals to mine from the bowels of Nexus.”
Slade glared at Amos. “It doesn’t matter. It’s my way or the highway, and the highway ain’t got shit.”
Judd almost laughed at that line. Almost. But whatever inclination he’d had to crack up cracked like an eggshell as soon as Slade turned his gaze in the Piplup’s direction.
“A Piplup! Why is there an Ice-type in our forge?”
Amos gulped. “ Piplup? How did it get in here?”
Slade growled at his colleague. “Amos, don’t repeat everything I say! But we’d better do something! Do you have a Summoning Badge?”
Amos nodded. “I do.”
A Summoning Badge? I think I know what it does, and if I’m right, that means trouble for me. Big trouble!
Judd had no time to react - he just stood there in shock and awe as Amos handed Slade a small badge that looked totally innocuous to the naked eye. However, as soon as Slade tapped the badge, what must have been a dozen Braixen appeared out of thin air, their wands held high.
“He should be easy to burn!” Slade shouted. “If you can’t take care of him, you need to go back to preschool!”
One of the Braixen pointed his wand directly at Judd, which sent out a beam of red light.
“Don’t kill him, Danforth!” Amos exclaimed. “If you want Piplup to be of any use, you have to keep him alive!”
“My name’s not Piplup!” Judd shouted, realizing that maybe he could stall for time. It was hardly a surefire strategy, but it’d be better than just running around like a Punchic with its head cut off.
Slade twirled his wand in midair, evidently a signal that the other Braixen he’d summoned should stand down. Like some of those who took part in one of America’s favorite pastimes, Slade was eager to toy with his prey rather than hunting it down immediately.
“Well then. If you don’t want to go by Piplup, what’s your name?”
“Judd” the Piplup spat. “I’m Judd Asgard. And you’re going to let me get out of here, because I have a mission to accomplish!”
Slade cackled. “Tsk, tsk! How did you forget that Pokémon use their species as their surname? If this is a bold solo mission into Mount Chimney, you clearly didn’t plan thoroughly enough!”
Well, he might be right about that.
“So Judd Piplup is your name here. Got that? Of course, it’s not like it’ll matter for you much longer!”
“But I thought you were going to bring me in alive?” Judd inquired.
Judd realized then what his goal needed to be. He did not have to defeat any of these Braixen in battle, but he would need to steal one of their wands. Then maybe he could teleport out of the volcano and back to Jet Force Isekai. (Of course, if he failed to steal a single weapon, he’d forfeit twenty points right there, in addition to whatever he had lost through his likely failure to take good enough notes).
Obviously, that was easier said than done. The Braixen all towered over the Piplup, and they were likely far more agile too. Judd could not beat them in a battle of brawn - he’d need to win in a battle of brains.
Judd realized there was a conveyor belt right behind him. It was still moving slowly, but it would be pretty trivial to select a sword from it. He could then use the sword to disarm a Braixen, grab the wand, and teleport out of the volcano with the weapon in hand. Everybody would win, except for the Braixen whose arm he’d probably have to cut off.
“We’ll bring you in alive if we can,” Slade stated hotly. “But if you’re dead, that’s too bad, so sad. For you, not for us - we’ll still be rewarded handsomely.”
I can’t die here. This is just a simulation. At any moment I can cry uncle - or rather, “lava or leave ‘em” - and be whisked back to the ruins. Just hit that panic button, and I’ll be safe from these Braixen who want to “kill” me, though maybe not from banishment.
Judd reached for the nearest sword. Unfortunately, he knew without needing to look that his Piplup wingspan wasn’t long enough for that. All he’d managed to do was signal his next move, and for nothing in return!
“Oh, you’re going for a sword, are you?” Slade jeered. “Well, if you make one false move, we will all make sure you breathe no more!”
“Joke’s on you, because I’m already dead!” Judd blurted out, which elicited numerous eye-rolls.
“You really are just trying to stall for time until somebody rescues you, huh?” another of the Braixen muttered, holding his wand in the sky and conjuring a set of ropes. “Well, enjoy being tied!”
In an instant, the ropes coiled around all of Judd’s limbs, pinning him to where he stood. Judd gasped as the bonds cut off some of his circulation.
I can still say those words. But I’m not going to unless I absolutely need to. Then again, how do I decide what constitutes “absolutely needing to”?
As the Piplup struggled against his restraints, Slade chuckled. “Now, now! You might as well get rid of any fantasies you have about rescue. As you’ve no doubt figured out, we’re in the middle of a volcano.”
“Mount Chimney, right?” Judd asked.
Slade nodded. “How did you -?”
“It doesn’t matter,” the Piplup spat. “The point is that you all suck. How do you live with yourselves, tying up an innocent little Ice-type like me?”
Slade rolled his eyes. “Well, Piplup, how do you live with yourself for invading our volcanic base? It’s not polite to take over another’s personal space, and that’s exactly what you’ve done!”
If I get one of those wands, Judd realized, I can free myself from these ropes, summon a sword, and then say the phrase and be out of here. I’ll have completed every task, so I should get a good enough score to stay.
But wait! Isn’t God very much against the use of magic by those on Earth? Surely He’ll make an exception just this once for me - it’s self-defense!
Of course, the million-dollar question was that of how Judd would acquire a wand in the first place. His arms were tied behind his back. And even if he grabbed one of the wands (and that was a big if ), could he really learn how to use such magic on such short notice?
Judd steeled himself for what was to come. What choice did he have?
The Piplup’s restraints seemed to grow tighter and tighter the more he tried to throw them off. The more heavily he struggled, the more thoroughly they pinned him to the ground. And as Slade held his wand over the Piplup, seemingly threatening to use a killing curse (or at least one that would do enormous damage), Judd realized something.
It’s just like quicksand, the way they show it in movies. The more I fight, the harder it will be to escape.
Judd collapsed to the ground on purpose, closing his eyes as though settling in for a nap. This probably confused Slade to no end, because the Braixen’s eyes widened as he saw the Piplup do this.
Sure enough, Judd was right. The ropes were far looser now, to the point where all the Piplup needed to do was roll over and kick one of the Braixen to the ground. Now he was free!
Wait…I kicked one of them to the ground. Does that mean…?
Sure enough, a wand about nine inches long lay on the ground, and Judd lunged for it. Before Slade could use a spell on the Piplup, before the wand’s owner could seize it back, Judd clamped his paw around the stick.
This Sawsbuck antler might well be what saves me today!
As Slade and the other Braixen pointed their wands at Judd, they began firing curses. Numerous beams of light in a veritable rainbow of colors pooled around the Piplup, but none of them actually found their target. (Later, Judd would liken this to the way pockets of wind were blocked by mountains in their path.)
“Why isn’t it working?” Slade wondered aloud, though it was more of an exclamation than a question.
“There seems to be a barrier around the Piplup!” another Braixen bellowed. “How’d he learn that spell so fast?”
A third Braixen rolled his eyes. “It’s the Beginner’s Luck Charm! The first time one touches a wand, it forms a barrier around the holder for five minutes! No spells can penetrate it!”
That’s nice to know! I’m safe for five minutes! That’s more than enough time to grab a sword!
“Don’t party just yet, Piplup!” Slade exclaimed.
Judd watched briefly as Slade twirled his wand in the air; seconds later, what must have been a hundred or more Braixen teleported into the forge. There were so many of the Fire-types that the Braixen were practically tripping over one another. Nonetheless, Judd realized what their goal was.
Judd may have had the protection of the Beginner’s Luck Charm, but it would only last for five minutes. Meanwhile, all these Braixen had to do was form a Pokémon version of a human shield to stop Judd from reaching the conveyor belt.
Unfortunately for them, Judd had plenty of experience pushing his way through crowds. He’d done this out of necessity at the handful of Christian rock concerts he’d been to, and he knew he could do it this time.
Slowly but surely, Judd made progress. He imagined that he had at least two minutes to spare under the protective dome, but he wasted no time whatsoever once he grasped the sword in his paws.
Now I have to teleport out of here using the wand. Do I need to be outside the volcano before I leave the simulation?
Whatever. Teleportation was probably rather advanced magic, the sort that you had to take an exam to be permitted to perform alone. So Judd tried not to worry about that as he yelled “Lava or leave ‘em!”
Instantly, Judd was gone from the volcano, probably leaving dozens of heavily confused Braixen in the middle of that forge. But he clutched the sword tightly as he entered the “black room”, for lack of a better term. He didn’t let go even after the following text appeared:
MISSION 3: LAVA OR LEAVE ‘EM
YOU WERE: JUDD ASGARD (PIPLUP)
OBJECTIVE 1: 18 OF 25 POINTS (5 POINTS DEDUCTED FOR LACKLUSTER NOTES, 2 POINTS DEDUCTED FOR ABANDONING SAID NOTES)
OBJECTIVE 2: 16 OF 20 POINTS (4 POINTS DEDUCTED FOR LACKLUSTER NOTES)
OBJECTIVE 3: 17 OF 25 POINTS (5 POINTS DEDUCTED FOR USING IMPROPER INFORMATION, 3 POINTS DEDUCTED FOR BLOWING YOUR COVER)
OBJECTIVE 4: 20 OF 20 POINTS (PERFECT!)
OBJECTIVE 5: 7 OF 10 POINTS (3 POINTS DEDUCTED FOR NOT TELEPORTING OUT OF VOLCANO FIRST)
TOTAL SCORE: 78 OF 100 POINTS - MISSION COMPLETE.
Judd couldn’t help but feel as though he’d failed himself. Yes, you could do a lot worse than a C+, but you could also do a lot better. A C+ was the sort of grade that would’ve made his mother say I’m not, I’m just disappointed. And in a way, that was worse than an outburst.
Soon the screen faded, and Judd once more found himself back at the picnic table from which he’d entered the simulation. The three ladies of Cabin Gemini were already awake, and they regarded Judd with what seemed like a condescending sort of worry as he glanced at them.
“How did it go for you this time?” Marie asked Judd.
The young man saw no reason to lie. If he was to be banished, then he’d be banished, and he’d likely never see the ladies Elsewhere. He would not need to be accountable to them anymore if his score was among the three lowest.
“Seventy-eight” Judd sighed. “My first score under eighty.”
“Hey, it happens,” Jessica noted. “At least you’re not like my sister back on Earth. She cheated on her Critical Race Theory exam.”
“But what if it’s the score that ends up sending me Elsewhere?”
Sophie snorted. “Nobody who’s been banished since you arrived scored above fifty. Realistically, you’re perfectly fine. So stop worrying, because it’s rather annoying.”
“I know,” Judd said. “It’s just…I feel like something bad is going to happen tonight.”
Judd could not explain the sense of foreboding that hung over him like a thunderhead about to dump a torrent of rain and lightning. He just knew, without even needing to think too hard, that tonight would be a night to rue for the rest of his afterlife. Precisely what would happen, he wasn’t sure, but he felt confident that one way or another, tonight would be a tipping point.
“You’re fine, Judd,” Jessica muttered. “Even if we scored a lot higher than you did.”
Way to be reassuring while also being condescending. That’s honestly kind of impressive.
As the rest of the residents woke up from their simulations, Judd reflected on how the mission had gone. Yes, he’d scored “only” a 78, but considering that the guildmistress and her Lucario staff were likely trying to punish him, the C+ might as well have been an A. Assuming he stayed at Jet Force Isekai after tonight, he’d foiled their plans once. Maybe he could do so indefinitely.
The other thing Judd realized was that he hadn’t prayed to God at any point during today’s mission. Somehow it just hadn’t occurred to him.
My Lord, they say there are no atheists in foxholes. And I understand why they say that. I’m so, so sorry that I never spoke to You during that mission today. Given how stressful it was, I know I abandoned You, and I hope You can forgive me for that. Amen.
Soon enough, dinner was served, and the linguine with piccata might as well have been manna from heaven. Judd savored every bite - it somehow tasted even better knowing what he’d just been through.
But as soon as he’d polished every bite off his plate, the sense of dread returned to Judd. He gazed around the pavilion, however, and none of the others seemed to feel as frightened as he did. At least, not in the same way. (Of course, there was still the general anxiety that everyone harbored before a banishment ceremony. That was perfectly normal. But what Judd felt in his bones was nothing of the sort.)
When almost everyone had finished eating, the plates vanished, and then the adventurers lined up to grab their torches. Judd tried to reassure himself, insisting internally that his score was good enough to buy him another week in these ruins. Unless Marie fucked it up, Judd would sleep in Cabin Gemini tonight rather than Elsewhere.
But that didn’t stop the torch from weighing Judd down like a sack of potatoes. The young man staggered down to the amphitheater, at least semi-concerned that he would trip over his own shoelaces and fall to the ground, taking his torch with him and potentially creating a wildfire. Maybe that’s tonight’s “October Surprise.” Or, to be more accurate to the time of year, that would be a “January Surprise.”
Judd took his spot in the amphitheater, and then Toriel began the ceremony.
“Good evening, everyone. It appears everyone has dipped their torches into the brazier and gotten fire. This is part of the ritual of the banishment ceremony, because here at Jet Force Isekai, fire represents your life. When your fire’s gone, so are you.”
Sophie whispered the following into Judd’s ear: “That line sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”
“Of course,” Judd retorted quietly. “She’s said it both of the other times.”
“I mean,” Sophie hissed, “that I’ve heard it elsewhere too. But that’s none of your business right now.”
Then why did she tell me?
“I would like to thank all of you for making the planet Nexus a better place today. Each of you has performed a good deed. Well, most of you. For some members of Jet Force Isekai happened to be less successful in today’s missions. And for the unfortunate three who were least successful, their time at Jet Force Isekai is about to come to an end.”
Toriel cleared her throat again. “I will now read the names of those to be banished, starting as always with the absolute lowest score. With a score of 24…”.
Okay. Two parties surely scored between higher than 24, but lower than me. At least two. I’m safe for another week. I was worried about nothing. Way to blow things out of proportion, Judd!
Consequently, the young man wasn’t paying much attention to the guildmistress’ words until the third party to be banished was announced. At that point, Judd was rapt to attention once he had confirmation that he would not leave tonight. Please don’t be me. Please don’t be me. And it wasn’t him.
“With the third-lowest score, we have a soloist to be banished. Scoring a 45 on today’s mission was Michael I.Z.A. Rainsford. You need to bring me your torch.”
Judd gasped, his stomach dropping like a freight elevator whose chains had been cut. He could hardly breathe as he processed what he’d just heard.
Mizar’s done almost a hundred missions here. He’s not invincible, but he’s as close to invincible as I’d imagine anyone could be down here. And not only did he have one of the three lowest scores, he got a 45!
The designated victim of banishment, too, appeared stunned. Mizar still sat on his bench, his hands over his eyes as though he didn’t want to see such a horrid world that had decided to evict him from Jet Force Isekai. (For what it’s worth, Judd didn’t blame him.)
As a collective chorus of gasps emanated from all corners of the amphitheater, the condemned one spoke up.“I don’t believe it,” Mizar mouthed, shaking his head. “I just don’t believe it.”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe” Lucas the Lucario snapped with an equivalent snap of his claws. “What matters is how you scored.”
“It’s just…” the condemned adventurer mumbled, “I know I could have done better. In fact, I think I did better than to deserve such a horrid score.”
“Well, being a veteran here, Michael, you should know that you get the score you deserve,” Guildmistress Toriel snapped. “And in this case, your score was low enough that the hammer would fall on you. Likewise, the snuffer will fall on your torch.”
Mizar glanced around, but he clearly knew there was no escape. Indeed, as strong as Judd’s unlikely friend may have been, there was no chance in hell (or heaven) that he’d be able to resist the other residents forcing him to his feet, offering him up as a human sacrifice to the snuffer so that they might be spared another week.
So, Judd realized, Mizar had no choice but to accept his fate. The doomed explorer took his torch and staggered under his own power to Toriel’s side. His arm shook as he tried to figure out where to place his torch.
“No funny business here, Michael,” Lucas snapped. “Just put that torch down, it doesn’t matter where it goes.”
Mizar set his torch down gingerly, and then Toriel uttered her line: “Michael, the numbers have spoken.”
And then the guildmistress snuffed Mizar’s torch, the former climber glaring at her with both loathing and disbelief. For a moment, Judd wondered if Mizar were about to challenge Toriel to a boxing match, a fight he’d surely win.
“It’s time for you to go.”
The boxing match did not happen, and Mizar once more seemed to accept his fate and walked away from the amphitheater.
“Those are all three parties to be banished Elsewhere. I have nothing else for you. Grab your torches, head back to your cabins. Good night.”
And that’s exactly what the four residents of Cabin Gemini did. First they took their torches back to the pavilion, then they returned to their stone residence, a house that didn’t feel like home in the slightest.
It was only once all four of them had gotten settled inside that Sophie spoke up gravely. Usually, when she talked to Judd, Sophie would go on and on about how silly his relationship with Jesus was. The fact that her tone was severe, yet not angry, suggested that something was very different this time.
“Marie, Jessica, Judd - we need to talk.”