The next morning, Matt poked his head out the tent to find cool sunshine and light fog. Dew coated the rainbow of canvas, grass, and flags, and a slow breeze whispered against his skin. The silent not-quite-fireworks continued above the close-packed tents. There were only three feet from the entrance of Matt’s yellow one to a purple canvas wall.

“I bet it’s more robots,” said a white-robed passerby.

“Yeah, you would,” a female voice responded. Her laughter faded away.

“Mornin’ folks,” the man named Miles said in his charming Southern accent.

Sharkie had said they’d met during her class quest, but wouldn’t say much more. It felt weird seeing three boxes in his party interface again, but at least they’d all stayed in one tent. The plan was to get past the dragons together. They’d have to be careful of friendly fire but didn’t want to take the chance of being transported without the opportunity to set groups.

“Zero sleeps!” Val said, scooting to the end of the gray mattress. “Come on Wiggles.”

“Eee!” The beaver raised a fist in his mock thumbs-up.

We made it, Matt thought. It’s here. The day didn’t seem real. He stepped outside the tent and it felt too calm and quiet. His arm hairs prickled. He caught more snippets of conversation, mostly people wondering about the contest.

Fallyn stepped out beside him and tucked her hair behind an ear. She gazed over the tents to the mountains. “Fifty days. It feels like a year.”

Matt raised his eyebrows and the others filed out to join them.

“We should go see Septimus,” Fallyn said.

“Any objections?” Matt asked.

His question was met with shrugs and blank stares.

“Well.” He nodded and dipped left between tents.

The crowd around Rainbow-Septimus reminded Matt of the first day he’d met him, confused and overwhelmed—and barely able to Slapchop. It did feel like much more than 50 days. So much had happened: Sister Mary, Murl’s Castle, the abbey, the tower, the pyramid, the Parthanon… He’d learned to tank. He’d gotten an earring.

The NPC stood tall with his cartoonish face and perfect goatee. Matt moved to the edge of the crowd, tightly packed and churning.

“Septimus, I am a traveler!” Matt yelled and the field blurred.

“Hello, specialist. Will you be headed to the Megacastle today?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful! In that case, I shall give you this.” Septimus produced a rainbow orb the size of a golf ball. He squinted, admiring it between his thumb and forefinger.

Matt leaned in. The colors seemed to swirl, and then he blinked and they stopped.

“Follow, follow, follow, follow, the Megabridge to the Megacastle,” Septimus said. “Once inside, you will face three challenges. Complete the first one and then use this to contact me.” He closed his fist around the orb, pulling it to his chest as if preparing for a magic trick. “Got it?”

“Got it,” Matt repeated.

“No, I’ve got it.” Septimus waggled his black eyebrows. Then he opened his other hand to reveal the orb. He blew like he was making a wish and the item shot to Matt’s inventory. “Now, you’ve got it. See what I did there?” Septimus grinned.

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“Yeah...” Matt sighed.

“Good luck to you, specialist.”

“Thanks,” Matt said, but the blur was already fading; the crowd was bleeding back in.

Matt stepped back to wait beside Kurtis. He searched his friend’s face. The cat-man was staring out at the crowd, brow furrowed, ears drooped.

“You okay?” Matt tried. He knew it was a stupid question. Of course, he wasn’t. That’s why he was asking.

Kurtis shrugged.

“If there’s anything I can do, you’d tell me?”

Kurtis shrugged again.

Chels and Valkyrie joined them, already becoming fast friends. Wiggles stood on his hind legs and mimed petting. Val scratched his head while the others trickled over and soon they were eight.

“Guess we go?” Matt said.

“We go!” Val cheered.

“Erwu!”

The crowd already seemed to be streaming towards the castle. Matt couldn’t see the building yet, but a quick check of his map confirmed the direction. With the blue dot from his quest, there was no question it was there. They followed the flow of people, winding between brightly colored tents in the short wet grass. The morning fog seemed to be dissipating.

Matt kept a close eye on Manuele and Sharkie as they walked, taking care not to get separated. They were soon funneled through a wider stretch without tents—a corridor of bright canvas perhaps fifteen feet across. Strangers jostled as the crowd slowed, they clanked against the trashcan lid on Matt’s back. He caught a concerned glance from Fallyn, but both of them kept walking.

Eventually, Matt felt like a waddling penguin, barely able to move yet nudged from behind. Perhaps fifty feet ahead the crowd stopped. There was an open green beyond that and then a stone snaking path in the distance, the Megabridge through the mountains. The walking surface was faintly yellow and the hulking creatures that patrolled along it must have been Sharkie’s dragons. The streak of red above them told Matt they weren’t friendly; he wasn’t close enough to read their level.

Sharkie grumbled something from his left. Matt did a quick survey, confirming everyone was there. There was nothing to do but wait. Over the next few minutes, the crowd got louder. It grew to a deafening volume where Matt couldn’t hear individual voices; he could barely hear himself think.

Then the air shimmered in the sky at the front of the crowd. All noise stopped like someone had flipped a switch. The wobbling air condensed into a picture of a man who wasn’t a man. His tough skin was red and his broad nose blended into cheekbones that ended in spines. He wore black, a severely tailored jacket with a row of deep red jewels at the collar. He had solid black eyes.

“What?” Matt said—or tried to say. No sound came out. He twisted to look at his friends.

Val seemed to say, “What is that?” but was inaudible too. There was no sound from anything.

Then the figure in the sky parted thin lips and cut through the silence with a deep hiss, “FRC welcomes you to the Megabowl.”

Matt’s insides churned. This was the face of the enemy. And it was terrifying.

“I am High Chancellor Garok. We hope you have enjoyed our generosity these past weeks.”

Matt swallowed. His skin crawled with every word.

“I am here to officially open the contest. As previously announced, the winning party will gain entry to The Continuance. Some rules.” He held up a sheet of red clear plastic.

“Re-entry is prohibited. Winners will be determined by score.” The High Chancellor leaned forward, adjusting himself his his chair. His black eyes gleamed. “So, impress us.”

Red lettering appeared at the top right of Matt’s vision, ‘Megabowl score: 0’ and below it ‘Megacastle time: 0.000.’

“A large part of your party’s score will be awarded based on completion time, however, your particular style will also have an impact. Show us why you are the best. The timer begins when you enter the Megacastle, but you may start earning on the Megabridge.”

Fires burst to life along the twisting stone causeway, atop watchtowers that the yellow brick path passed through. They shrunk into bright pinpricks in the distance. The crowd became restless. Mouths opened but none made a sound.

The High Chancellor raised both arms; rubies gleamed on his cuffs. “Prosperity and profits for all.”

The image disappeared and a long red ribbon floated up, waving in the breeze as sound rushed in. Suddenly, people were shoving, clacking against Matt’s armor, he against theirs. He was carried downstream towards the ribbon. He tried to call out but his voice was drowned.

Then a hand was in his. It yanked and held firm—Fallyn. Matt bent his knees, feeling the ground beneath him like he did when he was readying to fight. Matt squeezed his fingers around hers and then shouldered through the stampede.

By the time they made it to the side by a tent, the rush had thinned. The wide red ribbon danced above the trampled grass.

The first of the crowd reached the causeway. A dragon took note. People swarmed. They engulfed the enemy, taking it down with ease. Then the crowd advanced, then faltered.

Matt squinted. It was hard to make out what was happening from the distance. There were so many people packed in tight. The crowd churned. Lights flashed. People scattered then ran back in. The mass expanded and contracted, like a living organism taking deep breaths, or a sea anemone under the waves. They were killing each other.