“The Paths have stifled us for too long, lulled us into a false sense of stagnation. We must act now and it must be decisive. It's not too late. Not yet.”
-Unknown
-------------------------------------------------------
The hotel was always busy, tourists coming and going leaving rooms as trashed as dirty alleyway. Conference season was looming, and soon the ballrooms and large meeting rooms would be packed full of businessmen. They would leave the hotel better than the tourists usually did, and they’d tip better.
Thomas only really enjoyed his job during those few months. It was the only time he got to practice his craft on the clock. Crafting his own stories that he told the tired men and women every now and then as he took their bags up to their rooms. New names, places, and experiences all on the fly. Sometimes Thomas was a recovering addict, others an adrenaline junkie set on climbing buildings, all to disguise the real reason he was working as a bellhop at Monarch’s flagship hotel in New York City.
“Fucking tourists.” he muttered under his breath as his arms trembled and struggled to lift a larger than normal bag. All while the slight bustle of guests coming in and out nearly drowned out his words.
“Thomas is that you?” He heard a voice in the lobby and turned to see an old man in a suit wading through the streams of people to clap his hand on Thomas’ shoulder.
“It's been awhile, I thought you’d be long gone this year. Still working on your next stop?” The old man said as Thomas’ mind raced.
This was the problem with all the stories he told. Sometimes they came back to bite him. And just like normal he remembered his lines perfectly. The old man's name, and the story he wove springing to the forefront of his mind with almost perfect clarity. The man's name was Richard, last year he was a senior executive at a consulting firm and he thought that Thomas was a world traveler just making his way across it.
In the two and a half seconds it had taken him to remember that, Richard had started to look at him with a little concern in his eyes.
“Of course, I’m saving up to go somewhere besides southeast Asia. Not all of us can travel to Europe every other year, but I won’t say no if you take me with you.” Thomas shot back with a smile as he put the bag on the cart with a grunt of effort.
Behind him someone clearly trying to hold back laughter wasn’t quite quiet enough to escape Thomas’ ears. That would be Jasmine, and she quite enjoyed making fun of him for his antics. He knew that she was just waiting for him to slip up.
“You know I just might. I ended up divorcing my wife this year and nobody my age has enough liver left to have fun anymore.” Richards' half smile was almost drawn on his body as his hollow chuckle pushed him to move the cart of bags.
“Sounds like a good time. You know where to find me then. Europe it is.” Empty words spilled from Thomas’ mouth. Not much inflection and a disappointing interaction with somebody that actually remembered him.
His mind spun as he entered the elevator, barely keeping track of where his feet were taking him. Thomas knew all the room numbers and locations by heart, and even though a few people clambered into the cramped elevator with him it wasn’t enough to make him pay attention.
What a horrible scene, and poorly delivered lines. Just like his auditions over the years, turned away again and again for so many reasons he lost count. His dream of getting into Julliard smashed against the cold hard truth that while he could craft a story, he could never really bring it to life. Some spark within him was just empty and cold or so the administrators said when he had failed his third audition.
The elevator hummed and began to move upwards. Thomas barely noticed until the thirty seventh chime announced that it was time for him to get off. Top floor suite with the heavy bags must be some kind of special occasion. Thomas thought to himself.
Dungeon infestation has begun. Paths have begun integrating. Beware The Dungeons.
The words were hanging in the air, superimposed over the doors of the elevator. Was this some kind of fucked up halucinations from all the alcohol he drank and weed he smoked? Or maybe the acid from last week had been bad. He’d never buy from Andrew again goddamn it.
Thomas shook his head and closed his eyes to try and blink away the words as he stepped forward. Fancy work shoes squelching into the mud and sinking until ankle height, the bags and the cart slipping and falling to the side. Splashing into the…swamp?
Eyes snapped open and took in the words again, except instead of the shiny chrome of an elevator mixed with the slight smell of pumped in air fresheners the raw smell of mother nature hit Thomas’ nose.
Whatever he had stepped into, it wasn’t the thirty seventh floor. Unless he was hallucinating the gigantic trees reaching high above his head with roots bigger than he was wide with space enough to walk a parade straight through like oversized mangroves, birds flying high above him were barely visible as he craned his head to look into the canopy. Could he hallucinate an entire world? The smell, the visuals, and even…Thomas tried to pick up his foot and look at it. The mud clung to his shoes and clothes like glue, unwilling to give up its prize until he heaved with all his strength and ripped it free.
The fancy leather shoe slipped off and remained stuck inside of the muck, could this be real? The words still hung in his vision. Unwilling to be blinked away it seemed, The information it presented could be more important that is unless this was all a hallucination.
Paths opening. The Dungeon Plague has fully infested universe 613920. Be careful.
Paths? Dungeons? What on earth could that mean? Thomas wasn’t an idiot, he knew what dungeons were, from video games. Underground places filled with enemies, quests, and most importantly treasure. But why would this place be here on the thirty seventh floor? What were paths? And most importantly where was the elevator?
As all these thoughts raced through his head a singular thought triumphed over them all. He was scared, terrified, and very nearly about to lose it. Then a bird call interrupted the silent terror that kept him rooted in place along with the mud. Thomas whipped his head up and nearly fell over. Those birds looked to be the size of planes, so high in the air and yet still easily visible. Exotic colors flashed as a few flew in circles around the massive trees.
Giant birds would most certainly eat him as a snack and being out in the open made him a target. Thomas remembered most birds having insanely good eyesight, especially birds of prey. But stuck in the muck as he was, he could maybe move a few feet very slowly. He had to be careful to not get spotted, and not get killed by the birds. With a shaky breath he began to move.
Ripping the other foot out of the ground proved to be slightly less troublesome, and once his second shoe was left trapped in the mud it was slightly easier to move. As if the mud had a harder time sticking to his skin.
He was halfway to the base of the tree when it happened, the words in front of him began to fade out. Thank god, it was all a hallucination. Thomas nearly began to cry, this was all fake. He was just making a fool of himself and soon he’d be fired from his job and just get a new one. Maybe a bodega this time, less annoying guests but more annoying customers.
Then new words began to appear before his eyes, slightly obscuring his vision.
Earth and most of universe 613920 appears to lack mana, this weakness has been corrected with the gift of 200 Points to each sentient being able to use The Paths but unable to use mana in their current state. Beware the Dungeons and good luck.
Thomas stopped in his tracks again. More information, paths, points, dungeons? This had to be real. There was no way to explain what was happening to him besides insanely detailed hallucination and he had never heard of anything like this happening even on DMT. Still he had to make it to safety before he could think about things. If it was fake then he’d wake up eventually.
“Assume it's real. Assume it’s real” The shaky whisper escaped his mouth as he trudged to the base of the tree. As if trying to convince himself that he wasn’t going insane or that he would be back in the real world soon, back to his boring job and boring coworkers, back to his boring life.
As if Thomas’ words made it so, when he touched the bark of the gigantic roots and felt the roughness under his hands the weight of the changed reality hit him. He was in some sort of dungeon, the realization made his legs weak. Stuck in a swamp, slumped against the side of a massive tree, in some kind of dungeon, with no weapons, no way to escape, and not even any food or water besides the mud. His knees hit the mud with a wet squelch as he tried to hold back a scream of frustration and hopelessness.
First it had been not getting into Julliard, then it had been not being good enough to get into any other colleges, his family cutting him off, and finally the start of the slow spiral of drugs and alcohol. Now he was going to die in this place from starvation, thirst, or one of those giant birds.
The mud seemed to swallow him up, falling into it was so easy the cold soft muck seeping into his clothes and finding a way to cover his entire body. Despair filled him until a sound penetrated even the mud, a sound that wasn’t birds, or the tree. It was a squelch of mud, as if someone or something else was wading around.
All the messages said be careful, that dungeons were dangerous. It seemed if this really was a dungeon that he was in grave danger with no weapons. His blood ran cold, even if he was going to die of starvation it beat getting eaten by something by a country mile.
However Thomas was face down in the mud. There was nothing he could do to save himself besides trust that he was hidden beneath the gunk and hope that whatever was nearby wouldn't notice.
There was another sound, this time much closer. Something was moving above him, something dangerous. The mud shifted next to his body, displaced by something big. Again a shift next to his head. It took everything he had not to cry out, or move. Thomas wanted to live even if it was a dungeon, even if it was hard, even if he couldn’t get out. The rush of willpower stilled his body, as the mud shifted again. As if whatever was next to him was moving on.
But willpower could only take him so far, the body needed things like food, water, and above all air. Lungs that hadn’t gotten more exercise than hitting a bong in the last four years began to burn with a terrible fire. The mud was still shifting right in front of him, the thing wasn’t gone but it was moving away, and then it was out of his ability to tell how close it was. It could be just out of his range, or it could’ve left completely. Whatever it was, Thomas didn’t want to find out.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Ten seconds later Thomas had to decide whether to breathe or pass out down in the mud. Slowly he pushed down with his arms and his head emerged. Blinking away the muck and taking a shaky breath. Then he saw it, just the back end of what had been hunting him and now he was sure it was hunting.
A hairless cat, at least the back legs of one. However, it was much much larger than even big cats from that zoo. Almost as big as a car, its hind legs made a tiny squelching sound as it stepped deeper into the roots of the tree despite the massive claws.
Thomas immediately curled up and pushed himself back up against the bark of the tree trying not to make a sound or even shift the mud more than absolutely necessary. How could he deal with that? It was huge! It could crush or shred him, and obviously could move faster through the swamp. He had no advantages, no guns, swords, even a bow and arrow and he certainly wasn’t some kind of martial artist.
He had nothing except his clothes, the luggage that came with him, and apparently 200 of these things. The words still hung in the air in front of his eyes. Saying the same thing 200 Points to each sentient being able to use the Paths but what on earth were The Paths? Why were they important?
As if reading his mind, the words hanging in the air once again changed. This time into fewer words but the information they revealed was perhaps more important.
Points: 200
Available Paths: Silver Tongue (0/10), Laser Vision (0/100), Iron Skin (0/50), Steel Skin (0/100), Enhanced Strength (0/X), Mana Battery (0/35)...
The list went on and on and on, down through his entire field of vision. The number of options was simply astounding. Thomas’ mind was nearly overwhelmed. Thinking of a way to somehow see the other options even further down, the options began to scroll.
Mana Blood (0/75)
Dragon's Breath (0/X)
Telepathy (0/50)
All kinds of abilities flew past his vision, seemingly thrown together randomly with all kinds of numbers attached. What was all this? Thomas’ jaw dropped as one after the other seemingly promised that he could gain these abilities? Impossible. But then again the last thirty minutes of his life had been an impossible sequence of events he could still barely wrap his head around.
But all of these things were important, dungeons, paths, points. It was all connected the messages had wished him luck for fucks sake and there was some kind of giant cat thing hunting him. If Thomas had free stuff, he might as well use it.
He didn’t dare speak, the fear of the giant cat coming back sealed his lips. Instead he focused his mind, thinking at the path that he wanted to complete. Willing points into it revealed immediate success but not exactly how he intended.
Path begun. Silvertongue
Silvertongue (10/10)
Path Complete!
Perk Gained: Silvertongue
That was it? No explanation? He had a perk now, not that a charming speech would make whatever predators lurked here just turn around politely. Thomas cursed his stupidity for choosing that path but it was what he had always wanted. That is if he actually got what he paid for, the ability to be charismatic to sway people to do as he asked.
Points: 190
Perks: Silvertongue
Available Paths: Laser Vision (0/100), Iron Skin (0/50), Steel Skin (0/100), Enhanced Strength (0/X), Mana Battery (0/35), Dragon's Breath (0/X), Telekinesis (0/X)...
With so many options, Thomas’ eyes stayed up near the top. Sure mana seemed important, but he wanted an immediate perk. Something that could be used to prove that this was really happening but also that he had tools to use for survival.
Path begun. Telekinesis
How many points would you like to put into this Path?
WARNING: Points used determine effectiveness
The durability options were likely better choices overall, but neither of them had an X. Information was important with what little he knew about paths, dungeons, and how dangerous this place was. Hell, this place had at least one giant cat that looked like it could rip him to shreds. At best 190 points seemed very strong but spending all his points could be detrimental after all what if the birds were only vulnerable to fire? Roughly half, for something strong but still keeping some of his points for later.
Path begun. Telekinesis
Telekinesis (75/75)
Path Complete!
Skill Gained: Telekinesis
Wait why the hell was the reward different? Skill? Telekinesis had to be used, while otherworldly charm was just innate perhaps?
Thomas let go of some tension he had been holding as he realized he now had at least some tools to survive. With the fear fading Thomas began to concentrate on lifting the mud with his completed path. Straining until he was red in the face did nothing until he took a deep breath and centered himself. With his eyes closed, he imagined a cup of mud lifting itself through the air above his head. Not all of the mud, not a tiny bit, just a cup’s worth lifted above his head. The area was silent, not a hint of movement shifted the mud around him and then suddenly his eyes snapped open.
A cup of mud moving through the air halted and fell back with a loud splat as if the earth had reclaimed it as soon as it understood that it was no longer bound by gravity. This would be something he had to work at for a while but clearly could become invaluable in time, maybe seventy five points wasn’t that much and he needed to spend more on his next path with an x.
Just when things were starting to look up, something familiar slunk around one of the roots. Thomas’ blood ran cold as adrenaline suddenly and furiously injected itself into his bloodstream. His heart began to pound in his chest and the sound filled his ears.
Whatever he had seen before, it wasn’t exactly a giant hairless cat. It had the body of a cat but was larger in every way imaginable, and another set of legs protruding from its midsection. A flap of some kind attached all its limbs up to its body like some kind of loose skin, barely visible from Thomas’ angle as his eyes widened.
Its hairless body easily slipped through the mud as it stalked closer to him. Its body was alien but familiar, while one of its eyes appeared to be permanently closed by a massive scar that crossed the beast's face. It still moved with the grace of an apex predator and had the claws to back it up. As the mud slipped off its raised paws it exposed curved raptor like claws with very nearly serrated edges.
Thomas knew he couldn’t run and most certainly couldn’t fight. He had just moved a single cup of mud with his new skill, that wouldn’t be enough to get him through this. Without the time or space to pick another path and spend the rest of his points he was likely dead. With a thought he willed the paths to appear again hoping for an ability to defend himself better than weak telekinesis, obscuring his vision as the options appeared.
The giant cat almost sensed that he was no longer giving it his full attention and pounced with no warning, the extra legs giving it a higher arc than any normal big cat.
With only one eye on the cat the sudden explosion of movement caused Thomas’ head to jerk up to follow the beast. An entire page of words and numbers ever so slightly obscuring his vision as it reached the apex of its jump. Its limbs spread out as if to hug him, massive curved claws slicing through the air they descended.
Thomas stood there watching his approaching death and wilted. The mud was too thick to move quickly and his power too weak, his survival had hinged on stealth and the new abilities the paths could grant him. Still he threw himself to the side. By trying to overcome this place with the path's abilities he hadn’t been giving its dangers the appropriate levels of caution. As his fatal mistake fell upon him a small realization struck him just before impact. He should’ve picked a defensive path first.
Then the beast hit him, massive claws ripping through his right leg like butter and pushing him down. Thomas, like most humans of the twentieth century, had never felt pain like this before in his entire life. The two ton cat opened its mouth to reveal footlong fangs that dripped saliva onto his face even as he sunk deeper into the swamp.
As his mouth filled with slimy dirt Thomas realized he was screaming. Everything in his body went ballistic, he lashed out with his arms. Punching, slapping as hard as he could, angling his nails to try and rip into the cat's body no matter how futile.
That's when he felt it for the first time. Not in meditation or visualization, in the raw and uncontrollable panic of struggling for his life with the paths screen in front of him, Thomas found out how much power 75 points had. Telekinetic power rushed out of him like a wave pushing the mud away, pushing everything away. His mouth cleared, his scream once again echoed through the roots because the cat wasn’t letting go.
Its back claws still clung to his flesh as its other limbs flared out to the side, the stretchy skin now taut held it in the air by his repulsion. Then it was ripped free in a spray of blood splattering over its snarling face. Flung through the air as if shot from a cannon the beast’s back slammed into a root with a sickening crack and a suddenly small roar of pain that Thomas barely heard as his scream petered out.
All pervasive cold suffused his body, despite the mud slowly seeping back to touch his skin again. Thomas shook as he pushed himself up against the root of the tree, getting a look at the cat that had nearly killed him. Its back two legs didn’t move even as its front two tried to pull it towards him. Its body coated in the muck and eyes filled with primal hate. Even as it lost its strength and simply still, Thomas grew ever colder, shivering.
Adrenaline kept his eyes open as the mud around him rapidly mixed with his lifeblood. All of the options presented to him by the paths beckoned him, power beyond his understanding all but useless as he bled out in the swamp.
That was when his eyes landed on it, a single word of hope that could restore him. In a fever dream-like state Thomas sunk his points into the path and saw the words change. Delivering his salvation in the form of a perk even as his vision faded.
Path begun. Regeneration I.
Regeneration I (25/25)
Path Complete!
Perk Gained: Lesser Regeneration
It was a new sensation, muscle, soft tissue, even skin growing back. He could feel everything stitching itself back together, blood pumping harder, pushing through tiny newly formed veins, bone shards pushed out of his skin by the force of his new perk's strength.
The all encompassing cold which had seeped into his body as began to recede. A bit of strength returned as his wounds closed, and he opened his eyes to see the cat was face down almost a hundred feet away. It wasn’t breathing or moving at all, the trail carved through the muck where its legs had been dragged was refilling with the pervasive filth.
Now that he had the time to peer closer, its body was covered in scars. Jagged wounds told the story of a life filled with conflict. Thomas’ heart beat faster as he understood what he had done. Seventy five points in telekinesis was enough to throw that gigantic cat off his body and into the air. His mind spun with the new possibilities.
Feeling invincible with his two perks and powerful skill Thomas stood up and lumbered slowly towards the cat. Not only because the terrain slowed him but because he was trying to test his power, reaching out to poke the silent beast.
It didn’t move an inch, but a ripple behind it made him pause. If there were giant birds and cats here then surely there were other creatures. As if eager to prove him right a crab emerged from the mud then two, three, four followed. More than he could count slowly emerging from the mud like from a nightmare. Thousands of eyestalks popping up as their clearly sharp legs drew pinpricks of blood. Dark rivers of lifeblood flowed into the sea of mud that the crabs emerged from as if in a feeding frenzy.
They paid no mind to Thomas as thousands of claws began to slice through flesh, the cat's blood mixing with his as it seeped into the soiled water. Standing completely still did him no good the last time something decided to attack him. So even though the crabs weren't even looking at him, he turned to run deeper into the roots, hoping there were less cats and crabs.
With his back turned Thomas missed one crucial detail, as he pushed through the red tinged mud every single crab turned to watch his retreat. Ten minutes later his legs burned with effort and the roots were much closer together than near the edge. Close enough to scrape his legs as he pushed forward. Even using his hands to help pull through the obstructions with his eyes constantly moving from keeping an eye on the ground to checking for threats.
He saw nothing at all. No crabs emerged from the filth to pull him down, no cats fell upon him, and not even a bird call broke the silence in between his labored breaths. It was then that what happened finally caught up to him and tears streamed down his face even as his body continued on autopilot.
So when Thomas couldn’t push his body any further into the root system, his surroundings looked completely different from the empty field that he had arrived in. Gnarled roots wound together as they rose into the air, connecting and reaching further up to the true base of the tree. As his eyes followed all the twists and curves he saw it. A small thing poking out of the roots looked intentionally placed amongst the nature of the place, a white branch poking out of the gray bark in the twilight of the roots.
Circling around to get a better look revealed another abnormal branch, and another higher up. Almost like a ladder each pseudo handhold was further up than the last and if there was one thing Thomas needed right now it was hope that there was something else here besides endless violence and fear. That the white branches looked intentional was proof he wasn’t alone; cats and crabs certainly weren’t smart enough to create something like a ladder reaching up into the tree.
The branches started higher up than he could reach even if he was twice the height and without good handholds he wasn’t much of a climber. There was only one way to make it up to the first rung but if it worked then the rest would be easy.
Earlier with the power of telekinesis he had pushed a gigantic cat off his body, and lifted some mud. Now he had to lift himself up twenty feet in the air. A fall from that height would surely kill him. There would be no way to catch himself. He didn’t even know if he could push himself up the tree like flying but he had to try. Staying down in the swamp would kill him, of that he was sure.
With a deep breath, Thomas began to push down against the ground with his mind. Visualizing a platform pushing up against his feet, stable and with a few extra feet on each side gently moving up. To his amazement the power moved exactly how he wanted it to. A platform rising up in nearly the same dimensions that he imagined. The mud slid off the sides as he ascended from the root. The ground moved further and further away as the twilight turned darker.
Halfway up his legs began to shake, from the effort of maintaining the platform but from the effort of staying standing. Thomas never really worked out; his metabolism was just high enough that if he ate right he would just remain skinny. That lack of muscles was hurting right now, ten minutes of hard running through two feet of mud right after a near death experience was taking its toll, only adrenaline kept him standing as he reached out for the first branch.
Grasping it with all his strength the platform managed to get him to the third rung before unraveling underneath him as his mind strayed too much from its form and purpose. Luckily his legs fell onto the pseudo ladder and he began his ascent.
After fifteen feet his legs began to cramp, slowing his progress even as he pulled himself up with his arms. Thirty feet and biceps began to rebel even as the end revealed itself. Fifty or so feet higher, around a curve of the roots was what appeared to be a white platform. With that goal firmly in his mind, Thomas began to climb once more.
“I won’t die here.”
The promise heard only by himself and the trees kept him going even as his labored breaths threatened to cut it short. It was with great effort that he managed to pull himself up onto the platform. It had taken so much effort to get there that he very nearly passed out on the unyielding wood.
Laying on the hardwood, a sudden thought entered his mind. What if whoever built this was still around? It would be so easy to push him off. Adrenaline and fear raged within him. With muscles screaming in protest he rose once more. The area was almost completely dark. He was afraid to fall off. So he crouched near the tree and began to circle the platform.
Failing to notice the doorknob, he ran face first into it. Thomas reeled back sharply and nearly fell off the platform.
If someone or something was inside the tree, they definitely heard that. With a deep breath Thomas sood up fully and with a shaky hand grasped the wooden door knob. It turned slowly and without making a single sound in the darkness. As he pulled it open, light spilled out into the roots and all over Thomas. Revealing what was just behind the hidden door.