The automatons lacked mental shielding.
And the brainwashing was easily dealt with by destroying the machinery responsible.
While he was at it, he also destroyed the tiny kill switch, carefully extracting the tiny explosive from the brain and closing the metal skull as seamlessly as he had opened it.
“A sign of good faith you can see for yourselves.”
Insanity would’ve been the outcome of his actions had he not been prepared to hold their psyches together.
Nearly a hundred automatons wailed in anguish, terror and rage.
Only a handful were upset with him.
He addressed those first.
“You’re loyal so you’re going to sleep until I can let you go free without hurting my plans.”
He turned to the rest.
“What do you want?”
He held over 90 separate conversations at once.
“My name! My name! I don’t remember my name! Help! Help! Mother! Father! Where are you!”
“Your name is Kranaxus and I’m sorry, but from the looks of your memories your mother and father are long gone. Here…”
A pastoral village on a world with great plains with soft waist-high grass swaying in the wind, like an ocean of green.
Bipedal lizard-like humanoids, though mostly in outer appearance. They were warm-blooded and rarely ate meat, preferring the more nutritious and better-tasting fruits and vegetables borne of the magical flora they cultivated.
Green oceans turned into barren char as dark clouds choked the sky and throat.
An unfamiliar scent filled the air of the village even through the smoke.
Metallic.
Acrid.
He knew what it was instantly.
Kranaxus hadn’t known at the time.
A long conversation followed as he guided the once young man through the decades of a nightmarish existence typical for a conquered people.
“What do you want, Kranaxus?”
“Home?”
“It should be easy to get you to your homeworld since this is a Terminus one. Straight shot for you. The only problem is there’s no way to know exactly where on your world you’ll end up. Unless you know differently the spires don’t map out their locations from one world to the next.”
“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be alive. Not like this. I want to return to my village. If that’s not possible then I want to die with their blood on my claws.”
“I did say you deserved the choice. Can I just ask you one thing from you in exchange for giving you the points you need to pay for transit?”
“Name it, soft-flesh.”
“Don’t take your revenge on those that don’t deserve it.”
“They conquered my world and enslaved my people. You have shown me that. How can they not deserve it!”
“Kids don’t. They’re only there because someone else brought them.”
“… yes… hatchlings do not choose…”
“And you have to consider your… body… they don’t tend to walk around independently.”
“No, but automatons obey commands. I won’t be questioned if I move with purpose. And if I do, I can simply state that I have been commanded to perform a task. If that isn’t enough then I shall die with their blood on my claws at the least.”
“Like I said the choice is yours. However, I might consider giving you some upgrades to make that revenge easier and more effective. Provided you consent to some hard-wired rules of engagement. Nothing major. Basically, no killing kids or innocents, as much as one can be. I can give you definitions that will be both specific and broad enough that my conscience and your desires will be met.”
Kranaxus fell into silent contemplation while Cal spoke with the others.
Many, like the young man, simply wanted to return to their homes.
They gave no further thought to what would come after.
Whether vengeance or the release of death.
Others wanted oblivion right then and there.
He didn’t try too hard to convince them otherwise.
Just laid out alternative options.
He had ideas, but nothing actionable.
The thought of growing new bodies using magic he didn’t know existed or using the Threnosh birthing creches.
The latter raised a whole host of questions that needed a lot of experimentation.
Could bodies that fit their species be grown from DNA extracted from their brain matter?
It seemed likely.
The Threnosh had the tech.
And there were plenty of creches stolen by the Inheritors that the Threnosh surely wouldn’t complain about being appropriated.
It wasn’t like they were using them.
He balanced the need to give hope, but not sell them a promise he couldn’t keep.
Enough that only a few continued to insist on euthanasia.
To those, he obliged, leaving them with the happiest memories of their lives as he shut off their brains.
Many wanted revenge.
“If you will help me deal the greatest wound to them then I will agree to your terms.”
“Okay, Kranaxus. We have a deal.”
He addressed all of them as one, as individuals.
“Everything between us will come down to a choice. Yours. I’ll get you to your homeworlds. I’ll give you the opportunity for revenge on a demigod of the pantheon. And at any time you can change your minds. I’ll do my best to honor your wishes.”
He destroyed the demigod’s portal apparatus with a thought.
There was no point in taking it away for study.
In any other location it would just be an inert brass sculpture.
The demigod’s magic was tied to the spot more than the wheel and posts.
“Alright, if those of you that are close to the tunnelers wouldn’t mind breaking them into pieces. After that we can get out of this place.”
----------------------------------------
Carlsbad Caverns, New Mexico, Spring 2055
The entire national park was a mix of spawn zones and encounter challenges.
Alin stood behind Galen and Alana while they negotiated with several groups of wandering murderhobos.
They had no idea that they were standing inside a misty fog that wasn’t part of the natural environment.
The Mist Spekters had taken a cheap contract from the people in the city of Carlsbad to the northeast to turn a spawn zone back into an encounter challenge to cut down on the monsters that spewed from the caverns to menace the city.
The city had contracts open to any group willing to perform the deed.
What no one knew was that the Universal Points the city had on offer was partially funded by his dad and uncle.
Cheap was fine for every group because it was more of a bonus on top of what they could gain from cavern Quests.
Points, monster parts, gear and other potentially valuable things were impossible to avoid as long as one didn’t die.
Selling wasn’t an issue thanks to the spires marketplace, which had worldwide reach and cut out middlemen.
It was basically pure profit for those brave and dumb enough to venture into the caverns.
He kept the gray light.
Less a suffocating blanket and more a whisper of a touch.
It was partially a test to see what sort of class and level could notice and an additional early warning system in case one of the other groups decided to take a shot.
Chrome’s golem and Kat’s robot horse had been drawing speculative looks the moment they had arrived.
There was a potential problem there.
Depending on which spawn zone they ended up taking, the golem and the horse might be too big to fit. The latter could fold up into a box that could fit in the trunk of one of their vehicles, but that meant leaving it at risk of theft. Granted, Kat could recall it with a push of a button, but that risked a fight and the Mist Spekters wasn’t the sort of mercenary company that fought other companies unless they had no other choice.
They were going for a chaotic good type of feel, after all.
“If you want the Big Room, it’ll cost you,” a grizzled old woman said flatly.
She had introduced herself as ‘Cutthroat Dan’.
Lost of cutting implements on her person to go along with a sawed-off pump-action shotgun that tingled with an enchantment.
Fire-type from the feel.
The shells felt mundane, so he guessed something in the barrel turned them into dragon’s breath rounds upon shooting.
“How much?” Galen said.
“50% of your haul. All items. Monster bits included. I’m willing to let the points go.” She spat, but not in a disrespectful way. It felt more like a habit when she was a little nervous.
Granted, a lot of people were nervous.
Which fit the environment.
Monsters could spew out of the spawn zones at any moment.
And there were a lot of armed and dangerous men and women milling around.
“Hold on a second. Who are you to claim the first shot?” Riggs, he hadn’t elaborated if that was his first or last name and no one had asked, was a tall, wiry man whose only defining feature were blond curls and a wicked set of scars criss-crossing his face. He wore no armor, just regular clothes. Jeans, t-shirt and thick jacket. Enchanted from the feel in the gray, but obvious to anyone with eyes. No one wore just clothing in a combat zone. His only visible weapon was a pistol on his belt.
“We have a contract with the city,” Galen said.
“Meaningless paper,” Riggs scoffed.
Not every group cared to work for the city.
Those strong enough didn’t fear the city militia’s ability to enforce their claim to the surrounding area.
Riggs’ group was the smallest one out of the several dozen gathered.
Just 8 people.
All over Level 40 from what Alin could sense, which meant they were one of the strongest.
The third group’s leader remained quiet.
The bearded man’s head was wrapped up in a shemagh. He wore standard soldier body armor covered in desert camo. He cradled an AK on a shoulder harness, relaxed in appearance, but Alin knew that it only took a simply movement for the man to line up a shot on any one of the other three leaders standing in a loose square.
So, obviously soldiers, even if they didn’t claim to be part of the American Combined Armed Forces.
He could see it in how they carried themselves.
Most of them were standing or crouching on a bit of rise in the landscape where it wasn’t too hard to notice that they had lines of fire on everyone else.
Not to mention, his dad had passed along that bit of information.
The soldiers had spent the last few months based out of Carlsbad secretly applying soft, but steady pressure on the community leadership to return to the fold, as it were.
Rightful Destiny couldn’t be denied for long after all.
Which was patently false.
It had been denied by many communities.
“We withdraw our claim on it,” Galen said.
Cutthroat Dan scowled, while Riggs’ eyes narrowed.
“Mist Spekters prioritize helping people over material gains.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Laughter erupted.
Galen merely smiled, nodded and walked away.
Alana followed.
Alin brought up the rear.
He’d catch any attempted back shots or stabs.
“We’ll let them sort out who gets what area. All that matters is that the spawn zones get reverted back,” Galen said. “Besides, once our scouts come back with information about a heretofore unknown access point to a heretofore unknown cavern system outside of what’s currently mapped, we’ll have the bonuses of a first clear to share with the people of Carlsbad.”
His dad had discovered it a few months ago.
He hadn’t been able to tell if it was a natural occurrence or the spires’ doing.
The new cave system resembled the old ones, which lent credence to the latter.
It could have been opened to the surface by natural ground movement or the spires did it.
Whatever the case.
They had a spawn zone to clear and revert that none of the others were aware about.
The desert sun would’ve been oppressive if not for the cooling mist Galen exuded around their temporary campsite.
Trucks arranged in a squarish formation provided poor cover, at least that was how it looked from the outside. Their vehicles all had hidden magitech shield generators.
Not the best and latest.
Each one had been ‘purchased’ by Galen at a discount upon his supposed departure from the Golden Eagles.
It was mere coincidence that the mercenary company was able to purchase brand new ones at a discount from an anonymous seller somewhere in California a short time later.
“Snakes!” Chrome pointed from her perch in her golem’s open cockpit.
Laughter.
Alin joined in.
“I’m not scared of them anymore.”
“You sure?” Luzi said. “Let’s test it out.” She whistled. “Yo, Steph! Go catch one!”
“No thanks,” Steph said.
“What? Why not? It’s one of your most famous gladiator tricks.”
“I told you, those don’t have venom.”
“Oh, yeah… that’s fucked up. Like, animal abuse or something.” Luzi fiddled with her assault rifle’s optics.
“It’s not like we remove their venom.” Steph sighed. “The one’s we use don’t have them at all.”
They had to switch to ones for a lowlight to pitch black environment. It wasn’t something they were used to. Nor were the bulky and restrictive night vision optics attached to their helmets.
Granted those were going to be mostly back up.
The plan was to make liberal use of lights, magic and mundane, down in the caves.
Monsters adapted to that environment would be harmed more by light than any stealth advantage the Mist Spekters could gain by staying dark.
He exchange a smile with Kat, who stood guard astride her robot horse, which tossed its head and pawed the dirt in a disturbingly life-like way.
Following a tug in the gray, he made his way to the rear of their small camp.
Victor and Gob sat in the bed of one of the trucks.
The latter manned the .50 Cal machine gun, sweeping the empty-looking desert.
“Sup, Alin,” Victor said.
“Hey,” Gob nodded.
Victor sighed. “Do you know how hard it is to use your real name?”
“No, not really.”
“It’s hard, dude, it’s like I’m paranoid as fuck that if I say it wrong and the wrong person’s listening and I’d screw it all up,” Victor said.
“Do what everyone else is doing,” he shrugged, “just don’t use my name.”
“What do you think, Gob?” Victor said.
“That’s what I’m doing,” Gob said.
“Hey, at least we get a break from our ranger names.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Alin regarded his friend.
Gob’s scars weren’t visible.
The best healing available had completely erased the gash across his neck.
But, ever since then, Gob had been taciturn.
Barely getting up for any sort of fun hang out activities in the rare times they had available.
Ranger duties and training.
That had consumed Gob in the years since Vancouver.
Consequently, Gob’s generic class had turned into a special one.
Rayna’s Ranger.
More and more rangers, usually younger, were picking that class up these days. Either as an additional one or as their only one.
“Hey, Alin, you’re command now?” Victor ventured. “Any chance you can get me and Gob on the spawn zone challenge team?”
“Sure.”
There was no need to hem nor haw.
Both of them fit the profile for the spawn zone.
“Nice!” Victor pumped a fist.
“Whatever’s best for the company,” Gob said.
“Dude! That’s first clear bonuses!” Victor said.
Gob shrugged and resumed his silent sweeping of the landscape.
Alin spent the time chatting with Victor and failing to draw Gob into the conversation until the scout team returned.
By that time, the other murderhobo groups had sorted out the hierarchy and began their descents into the caverns.
Half the American soldier group remained perched on their tiny hill.
The weakest remaining groups settled for the above ground trails.
Lower level encounter challenges still provided rewards.
“Alright, spekters, listen up, our scouts have found an entrance to a potentially new cavern system,” Galen lied through his teeth. “As of right now, it’s a mid-level spawn zone. Level 30-35 max. Which is right in our target zone. Not too hard that we need all hands, not too easy that we won’t level. First clear bonuses, so I know everyone is going to want a crack, but that’s impossible. Obviously, some of you aren’t suited for a cave environment.”
“Booo!” Chrome hissed.
“You will simply have to stay here, but don’t think you can just shut your eyes and nap for the next few hours. I don’t need to remind you of the need to be ready for danger and I’m not just talking about monsters and mutant animals.”
True enough.
“Greedy eyes leads to stabby hands,” Galen said.
A pall came over Alin suddenly.
Jayde had liked to say that.
It seemed that Galen had the same thought as a similar shadow fell over his face for a moment.
Alin pulled away in the gray.
He didn’t need two people’s grief when one was more than enough.
“So, for the delving team… who isn’t interested raise your hands?” Galen continued.
None raised their hands.
The Mist Spekters numbered 52.
A squad of 10 had remained at Carlsbad for P.R. purposes performing random Quests as generated by the people.
Like, say, an old woman had monstrous rats going after her chickens type of Quest.
Chrome would stay outside.
So would Kat and her robot horse.
Tight spaces didn’t favor her mounted fighting style.
“Okay,” Galen shrugged. “The command staff and I will discuss who’s going. No complaining. We’re picking the best people for both the spawn zone and our camp.”
It was a perfunctory discussion.
The team had been picked the night before.
Alin hadn’t lied to Gob and Victor, not exactly.
They had already been selected for the team.
12 made the hike up to the secret entrance.
A small number, necessitated by the need to leave a stronger presence at the temporary camp to dissuade any greedy stabbing.
Galen in the lead.
Alin as the lead for a split squad if necessary.
Galen huddled them up near the entrance, which was a narrow cleft in a rock face.
“Looks like an ass crack,” Steph whispered.
“Shut up.”
“Just saying.”
“Yes, it does look like a pimply ass,” Galen said. “Regardless of the unfortunate aesthetics, I hope you’re all on your game for this. It might be mid-level, but that doesn’t mean we can take it easy or be careless despite our overwhelming advantages. We’ve discussed the plan. Keep it simple and cautious, but we move with purpose. Alin will mark monsters and traps from a distance. Bluewolf and Aimee, you’re on point, take a closer look for traps that Alin might’ve missed. Rest of you know how you’re stacked up. Steph and Luzi you’re with me bringing up the rear. Got it?”
Nods all around.
Alin descended first, well, the gray did.
The echoes of his relatives remained quiet and absent, which was enough to tell him that the new cave system was indeed a mid 30’s level spawn zone like the spires notification said.
It was good that they could trust the spires to be honest about that sort of thing.
At least according to all known history.
No surprise secret mythical challenges sprung on people.
Nope.
Those things were always a choice.
A sought out one.
Not on Earth, but on other worlds where the spires had been present for much longer.
Special conditions had to be met to trigger special challenges.
Sort of like the secret boss thing, but typically more deadly.
He pinged the monsters almost immediately upon entering the starting chamber.
“Tight,” Victor murmured.
There was just enough space for the 12 of them.
He held up a fist.
“Monsters up the tunnel. 5-ish meters down then it splits into a ‘T’ intersection.”
“Traps?” Galen said.
“I don’t feel any.”
“Monster type?”
He poked and prodded cautiously.
“Beast-types. I feel… giant moles…”
Galen breathed a sigh of relief.
It was always easier on the soul to fight and kill animal-like monsters compared to the humanoid ones.
Some of those almost seemed like they spoke their own languages.
They had always wondered if those monsters had been speaking languages that the spires didn’t translate to better drive conflict.
“We’ll wait here. Map it out as much as you can,” Galen said.
It took about 20 minutes to cover the cavern system to the maximum extent of his range.
Luzi sketched a map in a notebook based on his dubious measurements.
“I miss my HUD.”
Luzi patted him on the shoulder. “Aww, don’t worry, Alin. This should be good enough… probably.” She handed the map over to Galen.
“Damn it. No boss?”
“Just regular mobs and a few elites or minibosses.”
Luzi had drawn tiny mole faces to mark monster locations along with a few skulls for the traps he had located.
“Looks like there are two potential tunnels leading deeper. We’ll have you reassess once we get here.” Galen tapped a large-ish chamber at the lowest point Alin had been able to reach. “Any questions?”
There were none.
It was an easy walk, really, less a dangerous delve and more like the old, guided hikes through the main caverns back when it was a place for tourists.
Sure, Bluewolf and Aimee had to stop them a few times to take care of traps Alin had missed.
The mole monsters were ugly and foul smelling, but easy to kill after Alin had drained most of their lifeforces long before they came into attacking range.
A trio fell out of a hole in the ceiling and promptly rolled around on the floor, struggling to even push themselves up on those wicked-looking claws.
“Oh! My turn?” Steph raised a hand from the back of the formation.
Indeed, everyone that had wanted a kill had already gotten at least one mole monster.
They made way for the gladiator, who drew a trident from his bag of holding.
Three quick stabs and they left stinky corpses in their wake.
“We’re skipping treasure chests?” Aimee whispered. “I can sense them.”
“That’s the plan. Just remember where they are and we’ll check them out on the way out.”
The tunnels twisted and turned, but ever downward.
A long, narrow, sloping one lay ahead.
“That chamber’s at the end of this.”
“Do your thing, Alin,” Galen said.
The gray flowed further down.
Past the large-ish chamber.
More tunnels, traps and mole monsters.
A thousand meters worth of winding tunnels?
It was difficult for him to tell without the aids he was accustomed to.
The training hadn’t been enough, at least not in his estimation.
There!
An even large chamber.
Something noticed the gray for the first time.
Large bulk, hairless, like the rest of the mole monsters.
Teats?
Smaller, relatively speaking, wriggling things squirming underneath.
Long snout, star-shaped nose? Nostrils?
Six nostrils?
Mana in said protuberance.
“Found it. Giant mole monster. Mother. Between 20 to 30 young mole monsters. More mole monsters hiding in the… well everywhere… floor, walls, ceiling… just waiting to drop down. I’m pretty sure the boss can shoot some sort of magic from its nose.” He shrugged.
Bluewolf clapped him on the back. “That’s the kind of scouting I can only dream of doing!”
“Oh… did you pick up the traps?” Aimee pointed down the long tunnel.
“I did not.”
She favored him with an arch grin.
“The floor’s going to give out as soon as we get halfway down.” She glared at said floor. “There’s like a chute-thing, like a slide. I’d bet you it dumps out in that boss chamber.”
“Well, let’s try to find out,” Galen said.
Out came Luzi’s notebook.
Alin tried to get the gray into Aimee’s chute-thing, but the floor was seamless.
That was definitely not a natural phenomenon.
“Spires made this place then,” Luzi said as he explained.
“Can you tell what the trigger is, Aimee?” Galen said.
“Advanced Detect Traps is showing us walking over and… poof… floor go down.”
“Bluewolf? Anything to add?”
“Nope, Mist leader. Aimee’s the dedicated scout, I just have a few scout-like abilities.”
Galen’s fingers played a short song on the grip of his suppressed submachine gun.
“We could get the drop on the boss. End the fight before it can really start,” he mused. “Michael, I think you have an arrow for this.”
The silent man stepped to the front of the formation.
Alin forced himself to relax.
Michael was like Brittney.
A successful rehabilitation.
No longer a flesheater, but a penitent archer.
The class lent strength to the truth of his intentions.
One couldn’t lie to the spires.
Michael drew an arrow from his bag of holding and not the quiver on his back.
The arrow had a round disc just behind the thin point.
He nocked and loosed in one smooth motion.
Thin chains unfurled from the disc.
Skills trumped aerodynamics.
The arrow flew all the way down the tunnel, dragging the chains across the ground with barely any loss in forward momentum.
The trap remained untripped.
They tried shooting with spells and bullets next.
Ellis, a stone mage, conjured a large rock and rolled it down the tunnel to no effect.
Dat, a rock-fisted boxer, rattled the earth with a series of ground punches.
Nothing worked.
Alin mulled his options.
He was superhuman enough to survive a fall with only a bit of bruising, less if he rolled properly upon landing.
Drain the boss on the way down and he’d make the landing trivial.
He relayed this to Galen, who agreed, perhaps too quickly.
Brittney and Michael volunteered to accompany him before anyone else could even think about doing the same.
The former stated that she could cast a light wings spell to give them time to blast at the mole monsters before hitting the ground, softly at that.
As for the mole monsters hiding in the earth?
Easy enough.
Alin just started draining them.
“Sounds like a plan,” Galen said. “Good luck! We’ll be right behind you.”