Matt stepped down onto soft red carpet, recorder music filling his ears. The richly appointed room was just big enough to accommodate their group and a padded dining chair. Wiggles ran forward to investigate the velvet upholstery, the dark wood legs. He looked over and under the seat then stood, hands clasped.

“There’s no branch in there,” Val said.

“Wu.”

Matt eyed the timer at the top right of his interface. Its decimaled count read ‘18.9’ minutes remaining. There were three doors leading out of the room: one for each wall, all shut and painted red like the carpet and door above.

“Anyone have a preference?” Matt asked.

Kurtis shrugged.

Matt transferred his sword to his shield hand and reached for the door on their left. He slammed into the wall on the right. Mops, buckets, paper towels tumbled down towards him. He was in the office again. Brenda was on the floor. His knuckles smarted. The Keurig was in pieces. His lower back throbbed.

“Matt?”

“Matt?” It was Fallyn.

The carpet was red—not the gray of the office—but the paper towels were real. The floor slowly rocked to be level again. Matt reached behind him and shifted his body off of a gold door handle, which was driving into his back. He gasped at the movement.

Across the room, Val steadied herself on the open door. Wiggles toddled towards the middle, head stuck in a bucket. Then the beaver veered into a wall. He tumbled to a roll and Val leaped out to help him.

What the hell was that? Matt thought. He set his weapons down and grabbed the animal by his middle so Val could yank off the bucket.

“Eee!” cried Wiggles, once free. He scampered away and began running circles of the room, clattering against mops, brooms, and cleaning supplies.

The door Matt had opened was just a closet; a single bottle of Windex remained inside. Matt closed the door—lest that final bottle jump out and attack him. He cast Rapid Regeneration with a silent, Fuck you FRC, then gingerly rubbed his lower back as the sparks worked.

“So these doors suck,” said Kurtis.

“Yep,” Matt grumbled. But they had to keep moving. Less than seventeen minutes remained. “Ready for the next one?”

After a moment without answer, Matt headed for the middle door. He transferred his sword to his left hand and took a deep breath. The air felt heavy in his lungs.

“We really need to find you a scabbard or something,” Kurtis said.

“Add it to the list.” Matt reached for the gold knob.

“Hold on a minute,” Fallyn said.

Matt stopped, hand outstretched. “Hm?”

“Maybe it expects people to go left to right,” she said. “We know everyone is from North America, right? Or was there at the time? We read from left to right and a lot of things in our lives are designed in that pattern.”

“So…?” said Val.

“So, try the one on the right.”

Matt looked to Val and Kurtis for objections. Kurtis just shrugged as he had before.

“Okay,” Matt said and changed tactics. He bent his knees and grabbed the knob. “Ready?”

“Ready!” Val said, hugging Wiggles.

Matt pulled and the red door swung open. He waited for the room to shake, for his heads-up display to turn on, for something to yell out at them. Nothing happened. The recorder music continued to repeat. Matt peered skeptically into the white hallway, which was slick with high-gloss paint. A gold rail was bolted onto the far wall and seemed to run the hall’s entire length.

“We’re short on time,” Fallyn reminded and strode past him through the door.

The timer said ‘15.4’ minutes. It was going too fast.

Fallyn powered towards a white door at the left end of the hall. Matt marched close behind her. They were almost at it when the world shifted again. Matt’s stomach lurched. He felt weightless for a moment. He stumbled back, knocking into Kurtis behind him.

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Matt fumbled for the railing cutting his left palm. Then the world stopped moving. Matt was dangling from the rail, the doorway now above him.

“Everyone alright?” he yelled down, then checked above.

Kurtis and Val had landed on the back wall, along with his weapons. Wiggles was somehow perched on the rail, and Fallyn was hanging on above Matt.

“I didn’t even touch the door,” Fallyn said, glancing down at Matt.

“Probably means we’re going in the right direction,” Kurtis called up.

Matt puffed out a breath. His lungs felt tight. Blue sparks wove patterns along his skin but did nothing for the pressure on his breathing. “Can you pass me my shield?”

Kurtis stretched it up. Matt wedged his toes above a rail attachment and crouched to reach it. The gold railing shook with his movement. He made contact and zipped it away to his inventory and then the cat-man was extending his sword.

Matt’s front trashcan lid clinked and scraped against the rail as he attempted to make the climb. His toes ached from straining into the little space between the railing and the wall, above each attachment. His sweating fingers started to slide. He wiped his left hand against his pants and then traded and did his right.

“You guys doing okay back there?” he called down.

“Uh,” said Val.

“Trying!” yelled Kurtis.

Matt twisted to look down. They were struggling to push up the beaver. Wiggles didn’t start from the very bottom but he wasn’t going any higher. Shit.

Matt considered going back down, but he didn’t know how to help. He pulled himself up another few inches, considering. Then the world rolled left.

Matt saw stars. He blinked and scrunched his face, clinging to the railing. He couldn’t hold his position. His stomach somersaulted and then rested in a heavy knot. He could feel his body slowly dropping to the side. The timer said ‘12.1’ minutes. He couldn’t afford to fall.

“You can let go now,” Val said sweetly.

The legs of her blue jumpsuit were inches from his face, and going the wrong way. She flicked the top of his head, and then Wiggles scampered up, filling his entire view with his face. The beaver’s nose wiggled, smelling. Matt released his grip and dropped to the floor. His hands shook from holding on tight.

Kurtis stared down at him with eyebrows raised. “Fallyn got the door open. Let’s go!” He extended a hand to Matt.

Matt took the hand and stood. His head swam. It was hard to breathe.

‘10.9.’

Matt rushed for the door. He shot onto the dance floor and froze. “What fresh hell is this?”

The ballroom around him was red and gold. Tables with white linens were set up to his sides. Squares of light roamed the floor, his arms, his friends from the small disco ball rotating slowly above. Matt lifted his gaze to the stage straight ahead; it was covered by heavy red curtains. They began to slide apart as smoke pumped out from behind them.

Matt looked to his party. Kurtis fervently shook his head. They were down to less than ten minutes and the freaking music was giving him a headache.

A drum roll poured out from the stage, a cacophony on top of the repeating penny whistle solo. The curtains continued to snake open. Pink and green light spilled with the fog. Then a reptilian figure leaped forward, wisping the smoke. He landed gracefully on the dance floor in front of the stage.

The alligator-man centered himself below the disco ball and raised a microphone to his jaws. Then he called out like a sports announcer, “Welcome, to the main event!” Next, he twirled in a dance move, white-gloved hand on his fruit hat with a curious column of shucked corn.

“Hi,” Val said with a little wave.

Matt was already pulling his sword and shield to his hands when his heads-up display flashed on. He needed to get this over with—for so many reasons.

“Wups.” Val took two steps back.

The gator-man made jazz hands. “Ta-da!” Then red text, ‘Sobek,’ appeared above his head.

“He’s a noodle?” Val blurted.

“That’s soba,” Kurtis said.

Matt took a step forward and lowered his stance. “Alright you ugly noodle gator,” he grated, “come attack me.”

“See!” Val yelled and pulled out her bow.

Matt gritted his teeth, anticipating the impact. He estimated he was down about a quarter health, more than a third stamina, and had less than half his normal mana. His breathing was labored. They had to get through this quickly.

White flames poured over Sobek as he drew close. A purple arrow pulsed in his shoulder. He prowled closer, and closer. Matt sidestepped, turning the enemy to face the stage. Hot air flooded from the gator-man’s snout. Slitted eyes flicked over Matt’s body and the massive jaws drew up into a sharp-toothed grin.

“Attack me, Dancing with the Stars reject!” Matt yelled. Fucking stop wasting our time.

“Ta-da!” Sobek said into the microphone, then raised his white-gloved hands above his head. He clapped with the microphone in front of his fruit hat. Gold plastic confetti fluttered out. It sparkled in the disco ball’s light. It burned.

Matt gasped as the gold flakes became molten metal against his skin. His health dropped to 70%, then 60%, 64%—of the reduced amount that was left. They burned through skin and armor. He tried to brush them away as the alligator cackled. Matt cast Rapid Regeneration and his mana line shot down dramatically. He hissed at the mana and the pain, then registered the crackling in his lungs.

The gator-man twirled and made jazz hands again.

Matt’s interface said ‘8.3’ minutes remained. This has to go fucking faster.

“Your breath smells like garbage and you need a dentist!” Matt yelled as he ran at the gator with the point of his shield. It thwunked into the enemy’s abdomen, through the fabric of his robe.

Sobek gasped, dramatizing shock with a hand to his chest, as Matt wrenched out his shield. The gator-man pointed at Matt with one of those white-gloved hands.

That’s right, stay mad at me.

Wiggles ran up and began his Scratch Attack, frantically clawing to an almost-blur. Then a column of fire and lightning connected from Fallyn’s staff. The gator-man’s health dropped steadily: 68%, 65%, 62%,…

Come on.

The pointing hand swept to the side and Sobek’s other hand mirrored it. Then with a sharp inward gesture, water crashed in from the walls. The floor rocked back from the stage. Matt tumbled.