“Zeed?” Yanily whispered into the party chat. “Is that a name we’re supposed to know?”
Hiral just shrugged as Vorinal and the new man glared at each other.
“Politician,” Gran was the one who answered. “A powerful one from the Fallen’s time. Also one of the first people they murdered when they decided it was time for them to take over.”
“I should’ve known it would be you who followed us,” Vorinal said, then held his arms up to his sides. “But, you’re too late. We’ve found what we came looking for. We can’t ignore this threat. Even you can’t.”
“I’m not planning to ignore it,” Zeed said simply.
“Then… you’ll let us close the gate? You’ll help us?”
Zeed shook his head and sighed like Vorinal was a particularly slow child. “While I agree this creature,” he pointed at the Enemy in the tank, “and the gate may be a threat, they obviously aren’t as big a one as you think.”
“They beat the Progenitors!” Bellina practically shouted, clearly exasperated and terrified at the same time. “How can you say they aren’t a big threat?”
“First,” Zeed said. “You assume they killed the Progenitors. We don’t know that for sure. And, even if they did,” Zeed shrugged and looked around the room. “Look where we are now. In the heart of one of The Custodian of Tomorrow’s most heavily guarded facilities. Your little rag-tag bunch of mercenaries got you all through with barely a scratch.”
“We are kind of strong,” Yanily said flatly, but everybody seemed to ignore the comment like he hadn’t spoken at all.
“We passed dozens of Tomorrow’s broken guardians,” Zeed continued. “Even if the Progenitors did fall to… whatever these are,” he waved at the tank again, “perhaps it’s because they weren’t nearly as strong as we thought.”
“The constructs were damaged…” Vorinal started.
“Hardly matters,” Zeed said. “What does matter, is we aren’t destroying this specimen. And we’re most certainly not closing this gate.”
“It’s foolish to leave it open,” Bellina said, and the guards behind Zeed bristled at the comment.
The politician simply held up a hand to calm the troops. “It’s an opportunity.”
“It’s… no,” Vorinal said. “You can’t be thinking…”
“Oh, I certainly am,” Zeed said. “We have enemies. Powerful ones. And they aren’t some imaginary threat from beyond this portal. The Squalians may seem peaceful now that they’ve thrown off their Troblin overlords, but they’ve always been warlike, the same as their previous masters. They’ll go back to their old ways soon enough. And that’s not even accounting for the strange rumors of how they won their freedom.
“Then there’s the Troblins themselves. Weakened by the Squalian rebellion, definitely, but they’ll be back gnawing on our borders in no time. Right alongside those Dugger bastards. Did you know a new chief is uniting the tribes? Can you imagine a single, solidified Dugger nation? Barbarians. Our northern borders would never know peace.
“And we can’t forget those strange demons that’ve been popping up. Each more dangerous than fifty Troblins. Powerful. Crafty. They are a threat. Not these,” Zeed pointed again at the tank. “No, these are – like I said – an opportunity.
“You yourselves discovered they circulate solar energy far better than we do. If we can determine why, just imagine what we can do for our nation? For our army? As we continue to expand, we need the strength to hold our land. To protect our people.”
“You just want power for yourself,” Lusco said, then immediately seemed to regret it as more than a few eyes turned in his direction. The soldiers – especially – didn’t care for that comment.
“Is it wrong for me to want the power to lead our people – our nation – into the future? Yes, there will be sacrifices, there always are. But, what I need to know now is whether or not you will be some of the sacrifices I need to make for progress.”
“What are you saying?” Vorinal asked, his eyes going from Zeed to Seena and back again.
“Don’t get them involved any more than they already are,” Zeed said, glancing from Vorinal to Seena to make it clear who he was talking about. “The fact they came here for money is the only reason any of them are still breathing. Like you, if they remain an asset, they have a place in my country.”
“Your country?” Bellina whispered, though Hiral picked up her words.
“Here’s my offer,” Zeed said. “And I’m only going to make it once, so I encourage all of you to consider it very carefully before you respond.”
He let the words linger, making sure everybody was quiet and listening before he continued.
“You will keep everything you found here a secret, shared only between those present,” Zeed started. “And you will work for me. Here. Plumbing the secrets of this creature and the gateway it may’ve come through. Your goal will be simple – strength. For our people. For our nation. Whatever it takes, no matter what. To that end, I’ll make sure you have whatever resources you need.
“Equipment? Name it. Money? No object. Test subjects? Our prisons are bursting with useless fodder I can’t even put in front of Troblins to slow them down. You’ll have everything you need and more.”
“You want us to make weapons?” Vorinal asked, the entire researcher group having gone pale at the situation. “And… if we say no?”
“You’ll be executed as traitors,” Zeed said as simply as if he was talking about the weather. “As will your friends, families, and acquaintances. Anybody who might even have an inkling of where you went or why you were here. I’ll make sure not a single thread is left dangling that could be connected to you.
“Then, I’ll bring a new group of researchers here to do what you refused to do anyway. I’ll get my weapons – as you call them – one way or another. The only question is whether or not you’ll be alive to see that day. That’s your choice. Make the correct one.”
Finished, Zeed crossed his arms in front of himself, while the soldiers behind him very clearly readied their weapons.
“And,” Vorinal said slowly. “What of the mercenaries who escorted us here?”
“They have the same choice. Work for me or die here,” Zeed said and looked at Seena. “Don’t worry, I pay exceptionally well for talent. And you seem worth the money.”
“I think he’s hitting on your girl,” Yanily said quietly to Hiral through the party chat, but Hiral ignored him for the moment.
Zeed’s offer was… reprehensible. But, could Vorinal and the others refuse?
From the look on Vorinal’s face, he seemed to be considering just that. Instead of speaking up right away, though, the man looked to the other researchers behind him. None of them said anything – not even Bellina – clearly leaving the choice up to him.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“You’re sure you won’t consider closing…” Vorinal started.
“I won’t,” Zeed said simply. “Ask me again, and I’ll take that as you turning down my offer.”
Vorinal lowered his head, fists clenching at his sides. When he lifted it again, his face had gone completely neutral, like he’d accepted the weight of his choice. “We’ll work for you.”
“Excellent,” Zeed said, clapping his hands together. “This was the result I was hoping for. You chose your team well, and I know you’ll bring me results. Make yourself comfortable – you won’t be leaving this facility for quite a while – and put together a list of things you’ll need. My soldiers will make sure you get them.
“Oh, and if you’re getting any funny ideas, those same soldiers will be here with you day and night. Under orders to watch for treason. While I appreciate your intelligence, I won’t appreciate you thinking too much, if you catch my drift. Do your job well, and you’ll go down in history as pioneers. Do it poorly, and you will be just another corpse I step over on my way to going down in history.”
“I understand,” Vorinal said.
“I knew you would!” Zeed said with another clap. “Then let this be the start of a new and wonderful partnership. What you accomplish here will be the key to protecting our nation.”
With those inspirational words, Zeed turned and strode out of the room with half of his soldiers in tow, while the others remained behind, glaring at the researchers.
“Protect our people?” Vorinal whispered, again so quietly only the party could hear him. “Yes. I guess we’ll have to do that. Protect them… from you.”
As soon as he spoke, the entire dungeon went dark, only the window-wall to the Black Gate staying lit. Beyond it, the gate pulsed, strobing light across the party, before another column of light split the center of the room. There, where the tank holding the Enemy had been, a dungeon interface now stood, and a notification popped up in front of Hiral’s eyes.
Dungeon – Tomorrow’s Vigil: Complete
New Record
Time: 2:13:18
Congratulations. Achievement unlocked – What Tomorrow Brings
Deep in the heart of a forgotten research facility, you’ve witnessed the first of many choices that brought the world to where it is today. The only question is – what will you do with that information?
Please access a Dungeon Interface to unlock class-specific reward.
Time until Dungeon – Tomorrow’s Vigil instance closure: 59:99
“The hell was all that?” Seeyela asked after a moment of silence that stretched between the group. “And where did those extra people all come from?”
“Dungeon spit them out,” Hiral said. “One second the hall was empty, the next it was full all the way back to the Boss room with soldiers.”
“We could’ve taken them,” Yanily said, but Hiral shook his head. “Why not? Wouldn’t they be C-Rank? Isn’t that the strongest people got back in those days?”
“In the real world they would’ve been C-Rank,” Hiral said. “But here in a B-Rank dungeon? No, I think they were stronger than the Mid-Bosses. We didn’t want to fight them.”
“Do you think they would’ve tried to kill us?” Romin asked.
Hiral could only shrug. “That’s obviously not what happened, historically speaking. Maybe just restrained us?”
“None of that is really important,” Seena said. “When we run the dungeon again, I don’t plan on coming this far. No reason to deal with the Boss again when we can get more experience by farming earlier parts of the dungeon. All that aside, the researchers and this Zeed guy. Could it really have happened this way?”
“Why would the PIMP lie about it?” Hiral asked.
“Because it wasn’t there to see it,” Gran said. “The PIMP didn’t exist when all this happened. Not even its early programming.”
“Gran, how do you know so much about the PIMP and these dungeons?” Seena asked quietly.
“Because I was around when it was being built, girlie,” Gran snapped. “And I’d appreciate you ask less about that.”
“In Dr. Benza’s time?” Hiral asked. “Did you ever meet him?”
“What did I just say?” Gran said with a scowl, and Hiral put up his hands in surrender. Gran was definitely hiding things, but were they things that would hurt the party? It didn’t exactly seem that way.
“Can you tell us more about why the PIMP couldn’t know about this, at least?” Seena deflected. “Anything you might know.”
Gran sighed as her hood looked around the room, like she was forcing herself to calm down. “Sorry I snapped at you girlie, it’s not your fault I have… feelings… about what happened a long time ago. Yes, I’ll tell you what I know.
“Most of the dungeons are snapshots of an actual time and place. Recordings.”
“What’s a recording?” Yanily interrupted immediately.
“It’s like a memory,” Gran said. “But not held by a person. Crystal shards were used, but they had limited space, so each recording could only be so long. Hold so many people or events. Could only have a specific amount of script. The PIMP can loop these memories over and over, with minor alterations based on how we – or any party – act within, but it can’t change anything.
“It’s why dungeons are either succeed or fail. The group gets to the end and passes the requirements to clear the dungeon, or they don’t, and have to start again from the beginning.”
“Who made these recordings?” Hiral asked.
“Lots of us,” Gran said. “That’s how I got involved. They sent us all over, scanning and recording people, places, and events. Not all of them were fights when we were there, but the PIMP was programmed to create conflict within the recordings to help parties grow. They talked about doing more puzzle-based or academic dungeons, but we ran out of time.
“It was decided being able to put up a fight was more important,” Gran said, with a shake of her hood.
“You’ve used that word a few times now. Programmed,” Hiral said. “What’s that?”
“The PIMP isn’t alive. Well, it wasn’t when it was created. Who knows, now. It had to be told what to do. How to operate. Programming is the rules it works within. How it grows and makes decisions.”
“So, the PIMP isn’t a person?” Yanily asked. “I always imagined some guy in fancy clothes, sitting on a big chair with a cane or something. Maybe an extravagant hat. Nice shoes. Just telling us all what to do, and doling out rewards when we made him happy.”
“It’s not a bad description,” Gran said. “Cept replace the guy in gaudy clothes – your taste makes me worry, knucklehead – with a crystal box the size of a coffin. That’s your PIMP.”
“Ur’Thul used an urn, Dr. Benza used a coffin,” Seeyela said. “What is it with death paraphernalia?”
“Back to why this dungeon couldn’t happen,” Seena said.
“Simple,” Gran said. “We never recorded it. Hell, I don’t think we even knew it existed. There were stories about the Fallen finding the gate and bringing more squids through, but to have found it in one of Tomorrow’s facilities? Never would’ve guessed.”
“If you didn’t record it, the PIMP shouldn’t know about it?” Seena clarified, and Gran nodded.
“Well, not unless…” Gran trailed off, hood tilting to the side like she was thinking about something. “I guess… somebody else could’ve uploaded a recording of all this. Who would’ve had that though…?”
“What about the rest of this Ascender’s Tower?” Hiral asked. “And the other dungeons in it.”
“None of this place makes sense,” Gran said. “The first two dungeons? Sure, we could’ve recorded them. They were nothing special. A farm? Yeah, sure, why not? The prison ship, I could see it. The damn mountain top with a six-legged dragon – what in the nine hells?”
“There are nine hells?” Yanily asked.
“According to them demons, yes,” Gran said before continuing. “Then we come to this place, which is supposed to make us believe everything we saw? Not to mention the fact the Ascender’s Tower is an actual, bloody tower. They didn’t ever build a tower and put multiple dungeons in them that I heard of.
“And yet,” Gran paused. “Here we are. In a tower with multiple dungeons. In a dungeon telling us a different history of the Fallen. Could be everything I thought I knew got changed after I got sent to Tro’Be’k for my safety. Yeah, look how well that worked out.” Gran held up her arms to the side. “Turned into a damn vampire.”
“At least you’re still alive,” Yanily said. “Er, unalive?”
“Undead,” Li’l Ur said. “Really, the terminology is very simple.”
“What about wild dungeons?” Hiral asked, changing the subject from something Gran was clearly sore about. “Those weren’t recorded, were they?”
Red and blue eyes met his, and the vampire gave a small nod of thanks for not digging any more into her past. “Wild dungeons are something… expected and unexpected at the same time. They knew the PIMP would evolve beyond the limits of its programming. In fact, it was programmed to do just that. I heard people theorizing it would eventually become powerful enough to create its own dungeons.
“But!” she held up a finger. “Those theories all included it being limited to using things it had seen around the world. They knew they’d run out of time to record and program dungeon scenarios, so they made sure the PIMP had that functionality. It was only supposed to create normal dungeons with them, but these wild dungeons are the next step up. Require more power though, which is probably why they have limited access.”
“How much can it see?” Romin asked.
“By now? Just about everything?”
“Even when I’m… you know… in the bathroom?” Yanily asked.
“It’s not a voyeur,” Gran snapped. “Probably not,” she amended.