After a quick text to Aria, she gives me Thomas's location.

It's a slightly familiar place. A supermarket that once housed a blanket fort, and was heavily damaged by a black hole. Now closed for reconstruction, yet Thomas stands right out front, staring at the doors.

I walk up next to him, now also staring at the doors.

"What is the purpose of the government?" He poses. What was it we learned in class? Something John Locke said… Or was it Jefferson?

"To provide leadership, security, and service, right?"

"Mmm. Mostly right, but that's the gist," he says with a shrug. Pausing for a moment, he continues, "When the Nazi attack happened, people were killed, families destroyed; buildings and businesses ruined. Just…overall destruction. People left, moved away. And the government responded by donating a hundred thousand dollars."

"That's…shockingly low."

"And people wonder why I don't support Wilcox. He proposed a bill for helping the people hurt by the attack; about a million dollars to be taken out of budget. Twice that amount was taken, but only a hundred thousand dollars is being used for public services."

"Embezzlement," I conclude.

"Exactly. The worst part of it all, people know, too, but they're too socially inept to speak out against it. At least we got something out of it, thanks to Hamming."

"The other Senator?"

Thomas sighs, "Yeah. Him. Pretty nice guy. Awkward. He noticed the clause that would fill Wilcox's pockets, and got some money out. It wasn't enough though."

"What can we do?"

"Really? Not much. Vote, I guess. As part of the Hero's Guild, you have some say in things, based on how popular you are, but that's about it. I, as the founder and CEO of a fairly large company, convinced the board of directors to donate the real two million."

Fairly large. He owns one of the most powerful companies in the world. Fairly large. Hah! What a joke… He had a board of directors?

"Anyway, sorry for the rant, but did you need something?"

Curiosity rises from within me. It's so tempting, but I just want to see what's in his head real quick.

'E881418D9666' I don't know what I expected.

"I need some help with a new skill I got. Specifically, one that allows me to transport myself through space."

"Hmm," he grunts, then looks around quickly. Noticing that nobody was focused on us, he teleports us away.

————————————————————————————————————

Compared to my teleport, Thomas's magic seems a lot smoother.

Oh, and a side note, I tone down my sense of smell upon arrival. Looking around, I find Thomas and myself in a sewer of some sort.

I think that rat is riding a piece of poop.

"Welcome to the Brooklyn sewers. Home of the wondrous abandoned sugar factory turned dungeon, due to overabundance of ambient mana. Colloquially, it's also known as the Brooklyn Factory, breaking the normal naming convention as both type and shape are the same," he explains sardonically.

I don't know how I didn't notice this before—probably the smell—but there's an imposing steel door in front of us. Thomas, casually, pulls a rusty key out of his pocket.

"How the hell—?" Nanobots flood from out of his gloved hand, covering the key. When they retreat, the key is has a nice iron polish. "There we go," he says with a smile.

*Kathunk* The lock inside the door echoes throughout the gurgling stream—up shit creek. Very dramatically, the door swings open with the speed of a dying horse.

Dark Vision works at full power to illuminate the empty factory. Conveyor belts and pipelines run throughout the factory in an inefficient setup.

*Swish* I jerk my head to the right. Something moved. Spherical, I think.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Then it jumped…at Thomas. Catching it in midair, a inky, and slightly rainbow-ish, slime squirms under his vice-like grip.

[ Crude Oil Slime - A variant of the slime. Instead of the conventional slime universal consumption abilities, this monster can only eat lipids and nonrenewable oil and subsequent products. For this trade off, they naturally excrete small amounts of usable crude oil. However, much like real oil, they are very flammable and can die with the simplest spark. ]

Wow, huh. I think I heard of farmers feeding these things milk. Didn't know why, until now that is. A slime that can turn a renewable resource into a nonrenewable one. How bad for the environment is this?

Why am I even asking? This thing would be a good nine on the scale; maybe ten.

Nanobots crowd around the amoeba-like, living gelatin; they penetrate the cohesive membrane that keeps the slime safe, and they find the core.

*Crack* The slime melts apart. Thomas quickly summons a bucket to catch the contents before sending it away to who knows where.

He hums a note. "That one was pretty big. Must've been close to mitosis." Taking off his glove—which reveals his robotic hand—and replacing it with a clean one, he continues, "This dungeon is unique for several reasons.

One, it has two difficulties: lights on and lights off. Lights off is the easier one as most of the creatures, bar slimes, sleep in the dark. However, if you have a good electrical skill, you can charge a battery that will keep the lights on and wake up everything.

Two, this factory used to be above ground. However, when the Awakening happened and all technology stopped working due to mana interference, most of the abandoned factories were crushed and built upon. Ambient mana filled this place and made a hollow shell of what once stood here. So, this place is a sugar factory and oil refinery."

I don't have a good feeling about this. "Thomas, what are you doing?"

"Normally, I'd teach you multidimensional equations, so you can punch holes in space with ease. This time, though, I think a little duress to make you get used to the skill before teaching the math is needed." As he says all of that, he's been walking towards two electrodes jutting out of the wall.

"Good luck," he says with a smile. He grips the two copper poles, and they begin glowing with a burning aura as volts course throughout the abandoned network. "By the way, since this is mainly just so you can get used to the skill, I want you to dodge the enemies."

Row by row, the lights at the top of the factory flicker on, illuminating the production facility. Honestly, this place is definitely a shell. I mean, nobody uses this many conveyor belts and catwalks, and still maintain some semblance of structure.

Under the intrusive lights, the Crude Oil Slimes that roam the floor scurry away to hide.

"GRAAAW!" Something from deep inside bellows a deep, throaty roar. Something that instills a primal fear into me—a fear that I wasn't aware of. Wait, is this really my fear, or is something influencing me?

Foreboding feelings aside, I look around. Engines are picking up steam as they begin to rotate after centuries of inactivity, and hammers swing down onto nothing but anvils.

"Ah!" I scream as something swoops me up and dumps be unceremoniously on a conveyor.

I look up to find a humanoid, brass man standing above me, ready to strike a…minute hand into me.

[ Clockwork Custodian — The amalgamation of broken timepieces have grown conscious and now roam the workshop where they were produced. Held together by sheer will and magic, they pose a threat to the less mobile. ]

Acrobatics kicks in as I dodge the strike and begin climbing up the scaffolding. The gears and springs that make up the Custodian thin out as it latches onto a beam and swings itself up the frame.

Chase ensues—it on me—as we ascend up the ever-increasing catwalks. "Re re reeee!" The screeches of grinding gears assault my ears; it approaches.

Then I spot something, hidden right in the shadows: a Crude Oil Slime. Weirdly enough, the Custodian notices too, and diverts its attention on that slime. Oh well, I'll take the distraction.

Focusing on where I am in the world, my skill activates and I teleport the final few yards needed to the edge. However, I do now have to actively ignore the blood dripping from my nose.

At this respite, I guess I can look at my System Notifications.

[ Through repeated actions skill: Acrobatics(Medium, Passive) has ranked up to Acrobatics(Major, Passive) ]

[ Through repeated actions skill: Balance(Minor, Passive) has ranked up to Balance(Medium, Passive) ]

That's it?! Nothing in Climb, or an evolution in Jump?

"Re re re!" The grinding voice of the Custodian draws my attention away from the injustice that is the System. It seems to have caught the terrified slime in its brassy claws, then squishes it. The membrane holds together, somewhat, but it's all for naught as the coal-like core is shattered.

With a quick swipe, the remains of the amoeba-like creature is slapped into the Custodian's chest. Oh, shit. It just lubricated its gears.

With extreme speed and renewed vigor, the Custodian charges at me. Well, it rapidly climbs up towards me.

Something rubs my ankle, drawing my attention away from the imminent threat. A Crude Oil Slime affectionately hugging my ankle. The blackest, darkest recesses of my heart form a horrible plan.

I slowly lift my boot.

[ You have killed a level 3 "Crude Oil Slime" x 1. 50 experience points gained. ]

Gods, I feel like a horrible person.

…

Oh, well.

Slowly, keeping my footing, I step away and stare down the Custodian that climbs over the railing. It's added mobility shall be its downfall as it charges at me, and I teleport five feet to the left.

The oil slick reduces the friction between the brass foot and the steel floor, and its forward momentum carries it over the opposite railing.

I- I feel woozy.

*CRASH*

Not but a moment later, the inevitable sound of gravity's hold reverberates throughout the room. No kill notification though. It's still alive?

Staggering and lurching, I make my way over to the railing that it fell over. A pile of crumpled metal about thirty feet down moves slowly on a conveyor belt…towards a furnace. Are- Does that furnace have- Did those air vents move?

Are they eyes?!

[ Industrial Infernace — A living, demonic furnace. Imbued with the spirits of wrath and greed, this furnace will consume any and all metals to be processed and build itself up with the slag. An unfathomably hot flame burns at the core, but requires constant airflow to function. If fought, do not feed the flames. ]

That's a boss description if I've ever seen one. Any description that gives a warning when fighting it is never a good thing. Like an Arachne, or a certain Heavy Defense Bot, and now this furnace.

A small, red flicker in its eye gazes on the shivering brass pile moving towards its mouth. Then, it falls in.

[ You have killed a level 15 "Clockwork Custodian" x 1. 125 experience points gained. ]

[ Your level has increased by 1. ]

[ Your health has been restored and has increased by 40. ]

[ Your magic has been restored and has increased by 10. ]

[ Your mana regen has increased by 2. ]

[ Your power has increased by 5. ]

[ Your endurance has increased by 7. ]

[ Your intelligence has increased by 5. ]

[ Your wisdom has increased by 4. ]

[ Your agility has increased by 5. ]

[ Your dexterity has increased by 3. ]

Out of the corner of my vision, I spot some slimes. Dang, those guys are plentiful. They crawl into a rusty pipe that leaks smoke from the cap. With an audible plop, they land in the fire.

It explodes.

Fire belts out of its mouth—even able to be felt from here—and all the pipework that lines the factory expands with an ominous red glow. With a small flicker, I know. It saw me.

Yeah, fuck that.

I dodge a fireball spat at where I stood, melting the surrounding five feet of steel. I've got to admit; I'm getting used to this skill.

[ Through repeated actions skill: Psychic Spatial Transport(Minimum, Active) has ranked up to Psychic Spatial Transport(Minor, Active) ]

Dives and leaps, I jump between the quickly melting platforms. Ridged stilts becoming soft as wet pasta, forcing me to accurately land and move.

[ Through repeated actions skill: Wall Jump(Minor, Passive) has ranked up to Wall Jump(Medium, Passive) ]

This fucking counts?!

After recounting a winding path, I find Thomas, standing still, staring at the wall with a blank look. Sparks and streams of lightning flowing around him, illuminating the floor with a blue glow.

"Thomas!" I yell, fury evident in my voice. "The fuck is this?! You say you don't believe in throwing people to the wolves for training, then do this?! WHY?!"

Electricity stops. He slowly turns towards me, and a contemplative, pensive look adorns his face. His brow furrows and a flash engulfs my vision.

We're back in my apartment. Voice low, Thomas says, "We're done for the day. We'll talk tomorrow. I have some things I need to check."