When the roar dies out, nothing but a crater remains.
“Gambler?! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I flinch at Ursula’s voice ringing in my ears. “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to let the thing live. Not my fault you couldn’t see me killing it.”
She pauses. “Is that a philosophical thing, or an ‘I already killed it and you didn’t get to see’ thing?”
“First the philosophy, then the other one.” I chuckle and kneel down at the edge of the massive perfectly rounded hole. “It’s dead, in case that wasn’t obvious enough. Nothing left of it to research, which might’ve been an oversight, and I’ll take responsibility for that.”
“I… you… haah.” Ursula sighs, and I can hear her hand run through her hair. “Alright. We need to have a serious talk about what you’re actually capable of. Starting with how you actually killed the dragonjet, since I’m pretty damn sure I assumed some incorrect-ass details. But that starts with an apology for not doing this weeks ago. So–sorry for not treating you like the asset you obviously are.”
I lace my fingers together down between my knees. That apology feels… really good to hear. Like, really, really good. Not sure why. But it does.
“Apology accepted.” I say quietly and push myself to my feet. “I’ll be there as soon as I find a safe-ish place to put a relocation coin here. And… sorry for not telling you what I was going to do.”
“Apology also accepted. Don’t do anything too dangerous, you hear?”
“Don’t do anything else dangerous, you mean?”
She chuckles lightly. “Yeah, smartass. See ya soon.”
“See you.”
The line goes dead, and the soft background hum of March’s command room replaces it. She doesn’t instantly start talking my ear off, so Ursula must’ve had her permission to override the line. Or March just doesn’t care.
I summon my Class Card and hold my breath as I flip it open. A few notifications instantly greet me–including a message from Clutter–but the ones I’m actually looking for are right there in magical text.
Nothing usable remains from this kill.
20 Worth granted instead.
Not bad, but definitely not great. What it will do, however, is subsidize me using my spells a little more liberally down here. And if we can find more vendigators, maybe I can build up a little stockpile. But that’s not the only notification.
Debuff Gained: Horrendous Purification.
Prevents the use of mana.
Grants hidden positive effects.
The wound on my back aches as I read this one. So the debuff was definitely in the vendigator’s attacks, but Ursula didn’t mention any hidden positive effects. I’ll talk to her about that when I relocate to the helicopter.
I flip through my tabs to see if I missed anything, then tab over to my messages. Clutter’s is the only one I’ve got, and from how short it is, it probably didn’t have to be sent. I tap on it to bring it into focus, then roll my eyes at the ten word message.
‘I’m starting to do things now. Sending another message soon!’
Hey, at least he sounds happy. And the fact that he’s updating me probably means he’s not going to betray me in the long run. I start to close my card, but another incoming message grabs my attention. This one’s from Clutter, too. Guess he wasn’t kidding about the ‘soon’ part.
‘Got the quest, but it’s not going to start for a few weeks. Sorry for getting you excited. When I have any more information, I’ll send it your way.’
‘Heard you loud and clear.’ I type to Clutter. ‘Looking forward to whatever you find out.’
I send the message and put away my Class Card, then stretch and look out over the salt clover flats. The one visible exit on the other side of the room calls to me with promises of getting to go back to the helicopter, and I’m nowhere near strong enough to resist that call. Salt clover crunch under my boots as I begin my long walk through a potentially dangerous field.
----------------------------------------
“Architect, you see anything weird?” I ask as I pass the halfway-ish point of the room. “There’s no way everything just went dead when I killed the vendigator.”
“It kind of looks like that.” March replies matter-of-factly. “I haven't seen any other apocalyptic or magical lifeforms. That doesn’t mean there aren’t any, but I think you’re safe for now.”
I shake my head and look up at the hanging sunflowers. “All of these things are still loaded with cannonball seeds. You’re telling me whatever’s controlling them just told them to stop?”
“I’m not telling you anything. Um, I mean… I don’t know. That sounded wrong the first time.”
…Alright, I guess. The magical light tells the story of something else coming any second, but I guess the vendigator was a little more central to the plan than I thought. I summon a few freshly minted Worth into my hand to risemutate half of them into ghost quarters, and the other half into skeletons. Flipping them is nearly automatic at this point, and when they’re completely empowered, I slot them into my coin holster for future use.
Because I don’t trust this ceasefire one bit. This place is waiting for something. And I refuse to get caught off guard.
----------------------------------------
I shield my eyes and squint up at what looks like a hole in the wall a few dozen feet up. A ratty little catwalk underlines it, stretching a while both ways, but without any kind of staircase or ladder to get up to it. I look back over my shoulder at the long stretch of clover that took me about an hour to walk over, then frown at the long rickety spiral staircase we came down from.
“How the hell were we supposed to get back up if that thing collapsed?”
The sounds of eating come clear through the comms. “I unno.” Ursula says with a mouthful of something crunchy. “This isn’t a dungeon from a video game. There’s not always some kind of design to make sure you can backtrack.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just us. There’s the vendigator, the elementals…” I trail off as I run out of other things to list. “Point is, they’ve got to have some way to get through these entrances and exits. The one I’m under–that’s probably floatable, but the one we came from definitely isn’t.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“If you’re so dead set on it making sense, then there’s gotta be a way around. Maybe underground. Or maybe they can float way higher than you think.” Ursula pauses as something ruffles. “We can work on making sense of it tomorrow. Use your shields to get up there then get back here for supper.”
I click my tongue, feeling that I’m definitely missing something, but nod anyway. The vendigator flew multiple dozen feet into the air. That’s not enough to get to the top of the staircase. Something else has to factor into this. I stare up at the closest sunflower, only a few feet back from the doorway and nearly fifty feet in the air, motionless and bright with magic it just doesn't want to rain down on me.
One coin pops out of my holster. I fill it with a shield that slowly moves up, then hop onto it before it can get out of range. I spin around and cross my arms as I watch the flats for any sign of motion–something to prove me right–but there’s absolutely nothing. Since the vendigator got empowered it’s been radio silence. Even with all the magic trapped in the room like a long-held breath.
“We’re missing something. I know it.” I mutter to myself as I back up onto the catwalk. It creaks and groans under my weight, but holds for now. “Damn sunflowers are keeping secrets from me.”
Ursula bursts out laughing. I roll my eyes and summon one more coin, fill it with a relocation targeted at me, and gently lay it down on the precipice of the exit. Just in case going in fully triggers something else to happen. I turn around quickly, hoping to catch something moving in the corner of my eye, but no–everything’s as deadly still as it was a second ago. My shield disappears as the magic inside of it fades to nothing, and I tug on the connection to my relocation coin that’s still in the helicopter.
The world fades away as I close my eyes. Salt and cold humidity trade for a dry heat, like the kind made from a space heater, and I raise my eyebrows as I open my eyes to the sight of the room Ursula and I put up the equipment in. She nods at me with one hand wrist-deep in a bag of pretzels, then grabs an unopened one from her briefcase and shakes it tantalizingly.
“Want a snack before dinner?”
I decide not to ask how my coin got here. It’s pretty obvious if I think about it for all of two seconds. Instead I walk over, grab the bag, and rip it open as I almost fall into a crappy office chair that’s moist and salty at the same time.
Pretzels pour into my mouth, and I set the bag down on the nearest desk. Without the constant focus of the salt clover to keep my attention, the discomfort of my injured back comes back in spades. I try to take my mind off of it by scanning everything Ursula added to the room, but there’s way too much to note at once. Guns, a camping stove, guns, explosives, packaged food, water, guns, a shit ton of ammunition, and did I mention guns? Because there’s way too many guns.
I gesture at the armory that lies against one wall with a raised eyebrow. Ursula chuckles guiltily, then leans down to grab the camping stove and a package of bacon.
“Yeah, I might’ve gone a little overboard. But when I felt my mana starting to fail me, I just kinda grabbed everything I could. Most of which turned out to be guns, as you can obviously see.” She turns a knob on the stove, and a magical white-blue flame flickers to life. A frying pan leaves the pile and sits atop the flame, which Ursula leans back from and sighs. “Wish I coulda taken some of the more heavy-duty stuff, but that’d draw way too much attention. Not even sure I could’ve with how horrible it felt to use my mana right before it turned off.”
My mana feels like absolutely nothing. Since I don’t have any. I flip a coin into my hand and spin it a few times, try to put a shield into it to make sure I’m not missing anything, and it works just fine. No issues whatsoever.
“Guess not having any mana is a positive for once.”
Ursula shakes her head. “Still can’t believe the system didn’t give you any. But hey, since there’s no mana for the debuff to work through, you can still use coins to cast spells. Me, though?”
She holds up two fingers as a coin appears between them. She closes her eyes and focuses on it, but after a few seconds of hardcore clenching, absolutely nothing happens. With a tilt of her head and a gesture at the coin, Ursula sends it away and turns back to the stove.
“Everything’s locked out now. At least ninety percent of my spells and skills make tangible things–Banker would’ve been completely screwed if he was in my shoes.”
I nod thoughtfully. “About that…”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Plain and simple–my spells let me make magical weapons and everything needed to use those magical weapons. I default to guns, since they’re pretty damn effective, but I could make swords and bows if I really wanted to. But when you can make a rocket launcher that shoots a swarm of intelligent mini-explosions, you kind of don’t care about arrows any more.”
“No arguments here. But what about the mask? And the covering thing that you put on me when we first went inside?”
Ursula taps her face. “This one’s a skill that lets me replicate magical items I’ve got on me. The other’s one of my only non-physical skills, and I won’t be able to re-up it if it goes down. So try not to run into anything that’s made of pure antimagic, alright?”
“The salt didn’t mess with it?” I ask before Pearl can point the contradiction out to me.
“Now that you mention it…” Ursula trails off and summons her Class Card. “Huh, would you look at that. The spell did go away, but I sure as hell didn’t feel it. How ‘bout you?”
I shake my head. “Nope. You read the description of ‘horrendous purification’, right?”
“That I did. But it didn’t say anything aside from the whole ‘mana lock’ thing.” She narrows her eyes at her Class Card. “Why? Does yours have anything extra?”
“Just a little. Here.” I flick open my Class Card, then turn it for Ursula to see. “Grants hidden positive effects. This must be one of them.”
She tilts her head as she reads, but her frown only deepens. “I’ve got a much higher Mind stat than you do. Why do you get more info?”
I shrug. “Hell if I know.”
“And… you got twenty Worth for killing the vendigator.” Ursula states with disbelief. “Do you know how hard it is to destroy something so utterly and completely that it turns to Worth instead? Especially on Earth?”
“No, but if your tone is anything to go by, I guess it’s pretty damn hard.”
“Pretty damn hard. That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.” Ursula shakes her head and leans back from my Class Card. “You’ve got to make it so there’s nothing salvageable about the thing you kill. Absolutely nothing you can sell–not a bolt, not a scrap, not a single tooth. When you’re killing worthless stuff that’s not hard to do, but that vendigator wasn’t worthless. Especially not with the salt possessing it.”
A little worry creeps onto my face. Pearl definitely has something to do with how powerful I am–but that’s an explanation I can’t give. If Ursula gets too suspicious, or wants some of this power for herself, then I don’t know what to do.
“Ah, shit. Sorry, gambler.” She apologizes with a wince, pulls open the pack of bacon, and sets a bunch of strips to sizzle. “Didn’t mean to put you on the spot. This is a really good thing for us. You being powerful only brings good things for the resort, and from knowing you so far, it doesn’t look like you did anything too horrific to get that power. So I’ll just shut up, accept that you’re strong enough to rely on for low to medium level missions, and cook us some dinner.”
She holds up the package of bacon like a peace offering. “How many you want?”
I put on a half-forced smile, my mind still tinged with worry, and hold up five fingers.
“Alright, five it is. There’s peanut butter and jam in the cooler, along with some cheese and apples. Not a five-star gourmet meal, and we’ll definitely be sick of it by the end of the week, but it’ll do.” She smiles reassuringly and slides over a single stone bullet. “Keep that in your pocket. And if you’re ever in a situation so horrible you’ve got no other choice but to die, bite the bullet.”
On that happy note, she turns her entire focus to the stove. I gingerly pick up the bullet and try to identify it. A wave of nausea and eye sparkles sends me rocking, but Ursula doesn’t seem to notice. I lick my lips and stare at the stone bullet–now that I know Ursula can recreate magical things, this could be almost anything. It could be an ancient relic carved into a bullet. Or the bone of something terrifying she killed. Or just a really powerful bullet March made.
I carefully put it in my pocket and watch Ursula tend to the bacon with a blue plastic spatula. There’s so much about her–and everyone else at the resort–that I don’t know. And during those three weeks of free time, I didn’t even try to get to know them beyond a surface level understanding. Hell, even that’s a little too generous.
If that ends up biting me in the ass, I’ll only have myself to blame.