None of the creepy crimson mushrooms were growing anywhere near the wooden chest. There were no protrusions or crevices in the wall where a trap could be placed, or a creature could be waiting in ambush. The idea of walking even a few paces closer to the deadly fungi was terrifying, but Nick recognized that his emotions were being manipulated by the dungeon’s design.
Every box that he had opened so far held items that had proven instrumental to his survival. He couldn’t afford to skip a chest unless it was placed in an immensely treacherous location, like the one sitting between the lava flows. The knowledge points alone were invaluable. Besides, if the shrooms were so deadly that standing thirty feet away was dangerous, how would anyone be able to enter the dungeon’s final room and complete the quest?
It felt like the chest’s placement was intended to trick Nick into skipping an important power-up, his fear unwittingly contributing to his eventual demise. However, the rules might have been different while he was inside the dungeon. Thus, there was absolutely no way that he would assume that the chest was free of traps. Fortunately, he already had a plan in place for dealing with trapped chests, and the five minutes remaining on his light should give him more than enough time to enact it.
He began by examining the wall and ceiling, taking a few steps to one side so that he could see the space behind the chest as well. He couldn’t spot anything suspicious, and there were no noises coming from the passage behind him, so he decided that he was willing to take the risk and turned to face the box. After taking a deep breath to clear his mind, Nick went to work, eager to claim his prize before retreating to the portal.
Step one: check for pressure plates and tripwires. The raw stone floor was an unlikely candidate for pressure plates, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He stopped well before where a person would stand when opening the lid, then reached out with his spear. He brought the tip to the ground, then raised it around each side of the chest, where it would pull any hidden wires. Next, Nick scooped up the rocks he had been carrying in his pocket, throwing them at the ground in front of the box as hard as he could.
As he had expected, nothing happened. Step two: stab the lid in case the chest is a mimic or something similar. He took two big steps back while unsheathing his backup dagger. He held it by the tip and then flicked his wrist, sending the blade spinning through the air. The blade stuck into the surface and then fell out, leaving a fresh scar of bright wood behind. He stabbed it a few times with his spear for good measure, then let out a sigh of relief, now certain that the wooden chest was indeed made out of wood.
Nick skipped step three, as he had already checked the room for deadfalls or other mechanisms that could seal him in. Since he would need to perform the next actions in rapid succession, he reviewed the rest of his steps before continuing. Step four: use your spear to pry the lid open. Be on guard for projectiles shooting out of the chest, as well as the ceiling and wall behind it. Stand back at an angle that keeps you out of the kill zone in front of the box.
Step five: get close enough to peek inside, but be ready to leap back if there is a proximity trigger. Final step, use the rags from your T-shirt to grab whatever is inside the chest, in case it’s covered in contact poison, then dart back at an angle and sprint for the exit. This last bit was probably overkill, just in case there was a time-delayed trap, like something that summoned a monster, or anything else in the more esoteric range of possibilities. Then rinse off the object in the underground river and see what you found.
With only three minutes left on his light orb, Nick retrieved his dagger and then sprang into motion. He followed his plan to the letter and was thrilled when everything went smoothly. After checking off each item on his anti-trap checklist, he opened the chest without incident. He peeked over the edge, spotting what appeared to be a pair of fingerless leather gloves.
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Nice! Every scrap of armor is a godsend at this point. Without stopping, he reached in and grabbed the gloves with the soiled cloth wrappings he had originally used to bind his feet, then started running for the exit.
However, despite his painstaking preparations, his journey through the dungeon was not fated to end so simply. While he was busy exploring the sewers, the entity trapped behind the fog door had been hard at work as well. As the message at the dungeon’s entrance had stated, the parasite infecting the rats was not contagious. More accurately, it had not been contagious to Nick in its present form, and without a controlling core, the parasite was unable to adapt to a new host.
However, killing the trio of infected rats living in the sewer had changed things. The energy animating them had been absorbed by the blight’s last remaining seed, allowing it to hatch after lying dormant for nearly a century. The newly born controlling core had used the raw materials to alter its DNA, assuming a form tailor-made to his biology.
While Nick was busy opening the chest, a thin tendril of red mycelium had wormed its way through the wall beside the fog door, emerging from a narrow crack in the stone near the entrance to the cavern. The living thread of fungus rose from the floor just as he grabbed his prize and began to run. It carried the core, a fat vermillion bead made of what looked like blood jelly, which pulsed in time with the ruddy mushrooms surrounding the archway.
Before he could dart through the entrance and make good on his escape, the tendril struck like a serpent. The razor-sharp fiber effortlessly penetrated the denim of his jeans, slipping into his flesh without resistance and depositing the core deep inside Nick’s body. He felt a strange sensation sliding up his leg, heading for his brain, but the presence of the foreign body was relatively painless. He leapt back into the sewers and began palpating his limbs, trying to understand what had happened.
Since there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him, Nick shrugged and kept on walking. It seemed that despite the scare, he had pulled off his heist and would manage to escape the dungeon unscathed. Too bad I couldn’t finish the quest, but at least I got some experience and a decent amount of loot.
He became aware of the dire magnitude of his situation five minutes later. The moment that Nick entered the room where he had killed the sleeping ratmen and rinsed off his prize in the river, a System Message appeared before his eyes.
System Message: Negative status acquired.
You have been infected. Source: The Crimson Blight.
You have been infected with a Tier 1 controlling core belonging to the fungal parasite known as the Crimson Blight. It has no known cure. You will succumb to its effects over the next thirty minutes, gradually entering a state of rage before your mind is consumed, your body becoming a host for the newly evolved parasite.
It appeared that this time, despite his abundance of caution, Nick was well and truly fucked.
Suffocating dread wrapped tight around his soul as he internalized the dire contents of the status message. Overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his dilemma, his mind raced as he descended into full-on-panic mode. Fuck. FUCK! This can’t be happening. I’m infected. I. Am. Going. To. Die!
His thoughts circled around in a vortex of terror as the true nature of the dungeon’s lure became clear. He slipped his new gloves into the pocket of his robe without even realizing that he was doing so, every scrap of concentration focused on the calamity that had befallen him. Praying that somewhere within the heart of this black moment, there was a path leading to salvation.
Calm down, Nick. There’s no time to waste. Take in the variables and think. This place calls itself a tutorial. Unless this is all some kind of sick joke, in which case you’re screwed no matter what you do, this situation is intended to be beatable. The no-cure part is a red herring. All the challenges in here should be possible to overcome with the tools you have on hand or can find within the dungeon. The System wouldn’t have bothered to tell you that you were dying and provided you with a timer if there wasn’t a way to survive.
Heart beating wildly inside his chest, Nick kicked his brain into high gear, knowing that if it failed him now, he was a dead man walking.