Earlier that morning:

The city was in turmoil. Entity’s update had broken most of the complex magical devices that kept Brexis running. The cisterns below the palace had enough water to keep the city going for a few days. But without pumps to refill them, things were looking grim.

Then there were the skeletons. The programming that governed them was quite complex, so when Entity simplified magic, they malfunctioned. Thankfully, the undead of Brexis did not immediately turn hostile. Most of them continued to mindlessly toil away at whatever task they had been assigned. But then, someone did something incredibly stupid.

In a textile factory, an undead worker was walking on a treadmill to power a loom. When the signal went off for it to stop, it continued walking. This annoyed the supervisor on shift, and he had been having a bad day already, so he decided to give the misbehaving undead a whack with his clipboard.

Normally the skeletons were programmed to leave when abused. Instead, it tore the supervisor’s arms off. Things quickly went downhill from there as other skeletons in the factory were awakened from their mindless tasks and reminded of their true calling, making more skeletons.

The Best of Brexis held an emergency meeting to address the situation. Wilbur, the one person who might have been able to do something about the undead apocalypse, was suspiciously absent.

Willow took charge, seeing as Necromancy was her specialty. “Look, we don't know what is going on, but it's not an isolated incident. I've been getting messages from all over Vahnis about undead and magical constructs going haywire. So, we know that this probably wasn't a targeted attack.”

Francis felt equal parts relief and dread after learning that they weren't alone in their troubles. Currently the violence was fairly isolated, and the vast majority of the city’s undead workers were safely contained underground. But if this was a widespread issue, it could snowball into a worldwide catastrophe.

“Here's what we know,” Willow continued, “Everything went to shit around sunrise. After that, undead who had already been assigned a task continued to do that task. The others remained dormant.

“Once someone interacts with the undead, either by attacking them or bumping into them, they turn hostile.” She pointed to a map on the table. “Currently we have large groups of undead walking on the main street loop, holed up in factories, or otherwise minding their own business.

“Hostile undead are more spread out and are roaming the city looking for people to kill. We've issued warnings for people to stay inside and not engage the undead unless attacked. But…”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“... people are people,” Francis finished for her, “And I'm guessing that right now a bunch of non-hostile skeletons are getting woken up by frightened people who can't tell the difference.”

Chuck clopped his hoof. “Well, I'm not sure if this is helpful or not, but my first owner called that ‘drawing agro’. It's when you piss something off until it tries to kill you.”

“Noted,” Francis said as he added the term to his admittedly small vocabulary, “I've talked to Willow and we've got a few different ways to handle this. The nuclear option is to find out what's powering them, and shut it off. Hank is currently leading a team below the palace to find the off switch.”

The Marine cleared his throat. “Option two is to draw them away from the city. But the Dark Forest might view that as an act of war and retaliate. And the last thing we want is to piss off our closest allies.

“Option three is to clear out the hostile undead while trying not to kick the hornet's nest. There's a fuck-ton of skeletons walking down the main street loop, and I do not want to piss them off.”

Then there was the least pleasant option. “Or we can wait and see what happens. The current situation with magic acting up seems worldwide, and may be temporary. Any questions?”

Brick raised his hand. The young ginger man’s brow was knit with confusion. “I don't see why we don't just tell my dad and have him fix it. That's what I usually do. Once I fell in a well, and he pulled me right out. He can fix anything.”

Francis’ face softened. Brick was kind hearted, but as dumb as his namesake. He would have made one hell of a Marine. “That's a good suggestion, Brick. If we can get in contact with him, we'll ask. Anyone else have questions or anything to report?”

There was a puff of smoke and Mac appeared in the middle of the table. The demonic feline was so distraught that he only knocked over three water glasses before getting to the point.

“Hell has disappeared,” Mac informed them, “The entire realm has been destroyed.”

Francis wiggled a finger in his ear. “Say again?”

Mac facepalmed. “Last night I was up here causing mischief and otherwise encouraging sin. When I tried to go home, it was like hitting a brick wall.” The demonic feline carved a quick magic circle with his claw. “Look what happens when I try to contact the other side.”

Instead of the expected demonic growling, there was a high pitched tone, followed by a pleasant female voice. It sounded oddly familiar.

“We're sorry,” the woman said, “The realm you are trying to reach has either been destroyed, or is no longer in service. Goodbye.”

“Holy fuck,” Francis swore as he tried to wrap his head around this new information, “I mean, it was probably a fucking terrible place to live, don't get me wrong. But what could destroy hell?”

Mac frowned. “Let me try something else. Hell isn't the only torment dimension.”

The demon tried to contact the other realms, but each time he got the same chilling message. Mac looked up at Francis in shock and horror. “They're all gone. Every fucking one of them is gone.”