1

Brett waited for Emma to fall asleep, then waited another forty minutes before attempting to crawl out of their bed. It had been a good day. They’d had sex—or more specifically; I had sex, he thought—then gone for a walk through the woods. He had asked her if she still worried about her former teammates and she had answered him honestly, telling him that she did. He’d repressed his irritation with her response and instead enjoyed the sun as it warmed his skin.

East of their camp, they’d found a clearing at the top of a hill and had a picnic. They’d eaten, then returned to the A-frame. From there, the afternoon had passed quickly. Neither of them had been hungry for supper, so they’d settled into their bed early. They had kissed and, once again, Brett had felt that his life was perfect.

Still, the compulsion to track his former team was too hard to resist.

Now, as he stepped quietly out of the A-frame, he stared at the sky. It was a dark night. What his mother used to call a “fingernail moon” illuminated the edges of the trees. He dressed, then levitated above them.

While he zipped over the forest, the night air chilled him and he clutched at himself for warmth. His leather brigandine armor provided little of that. As he approached the river, the sounds of the current seemed louder. Even before he passed over the last set of trees, he knew why. Water was rushing up the first hill east of the river, weaving between the pines and churning up pine needles and soft dirt. When he got to the river, he saw that the glitch in the northern border had expanded. The river was twice the size it had been before, and water flowed unabated through the lower terrain of the western side.

Brett slowed his pace, enthralled by the violence of the flooding. Soon afterward, he arrived at the dungeon clearing where the rock formations were embedded into the earth, but most of the large stones were now submerged. The only one that rose above the churning waves was the stone with the diagrams painted on it, and even that was wet, shining in the scant moonlight. He lowered himself onto the rock. It soaked his legs, but he wanted to be close to the turbulent waves.

They’re down there, he thought. Under all this water, under all that earth.

He stared at the waves, peering through the water, then through thick layers of stone. As his vision burrowed deeper into the dungeon, he saw many of the monsters the team still hadn’t faced. It took almost one hour for his enhanced vision to find them, but when he did, he grinned. Many floors below, Jackson was getting ripped apart by a gigantic monster embedded in the floor. Brett watched every detail with fascination and a considerable amount of bloodlust.

What the team didn’t see was that the mouth in the floor represented only five percent of that creature’s body mass. The rest of the behemoth extended hundreds of feet below the structure, making it, by far, the largest beast in the dungeon. Buried in the earth, its arms and legs were small, but its belly was enormous. Jackson’s remains eventually filtered down the monster’s throat and were lost in a stew of dead NPCs that filled its stomach.

After losing sight of the body parts, Brett focused on the rest of the team as they traversed deeper into the inverted pyramid. With waves crashing around him, he remained motionless, following the progress of the people he wished were dead.

2

Upon entering the second floor, Damon’s first reaction was one of disappointment. He’d hoped it would be livable enough to sleep in, but that wasn’t going to be the case. A gray mist hovered over the mud, which was thicker, almost three feet deep. He gazed around the large room. It had the same limestone bricks, the same flow of clear water running down the eastern side, and the same sculpture in the ceiling, but he didn’t see any mobs.

The boulder he was riding veered off to the side. He released his grip in one hand and slipped off the marble ball. His legs punched through the thick mud and his boots slowly sank to the solid floor beneath.

“Lower the boulder,” he shouted down through the hole, watching as the rock drifted back to the opening in the floor. He lay on the mud, extended his arms over the opening, and threw the chain mail toward the wall in the room below, avoiding the Crusher’s mouth.

As it clinked against the stone floor, Damon stood back up. He looked around. Still, no enemies. He checked the face-sculpture in the ceiling. The mouth remained closed.

“Okay. So, I guess I have to find you,” the orc general muttered and started wading through the thick sludge. Even with his advanced strength, the mud greatly reduced his mobility.

As Harper rose through the opening behind him, Damon pushed forward and lost his boot to the suction. “Goddamn it,” he shouted and reached into the mud to retrieve it. At the bottom of the sludge, his fingers brushed against the worn leather and he pulled the boot upward.

The mud sucked his steel glove off.

Damon cursed under his breath. Before attempting to retrieve the items, he unequipped his other glove. As he sat in the mud, his large mass started sinking into the deep mud. Behind him, Harper giggled. He turned to look at her. She stood near the hole, amused by his predicament.

“Yeah. Ha ha, very funny,” the orc general grumbled. “Make yourself useful and tell the others to remove their boots before they get up here.”

She yelled down to the group, while Damon, up to his elbows in mud now, reached in to find his missing glove and boot. He found them and deposited them into his inventory.

“Hey, no sitting down on the job, bozo,” Zack grunted as he entered the room.

Damon glanced back at the grinning orc. “Oh, shut up.” He attempted to stand, but his butt was firmly planted in the dense mud. He tried using his arms to push his way out but they just sank deeper into the muck.

He was stuck.

“Gonna need some help here,” he grunted without looking at the two veterans, who he knew were enjoying his struggles.

“Sure, boss. No problemo,” Harper taunted. She had removed her boots and enchanter cape.

Zack snorted. “Yeah, buddy. We all need a helping hand every now and then.”

Damon didn’t respond. He waited stoically for them. A moment later, the two veterans started trudging through the dense mud.

“Man. This stuff is like walking through glue,” Zack grunted. He continued, but Harper eventually stopped, unable to move further.

Zack reached Damon and hoisted him out of the thick sludge. As Armando, Hammer, and Silo joined the group and waded through the three-foot layer of mud, the orc general grinned at Harper. “Got yourself in a bit of a situation there?” he asked derisively.

The veteran mage couldn’t help but laugh.

3

Damon told the members to stay near the opening in the center of the room. “You’ll just end up getting stuck like princess over there,” he said, gesturing to Harper. “Leave the inspection to the orcs.”

The tan-skinned warriors equipped their weapons and fanned out, progressing slowly. Silo’s burned leg wasn’t fully healed, so as he trudged forward, the cool mud relieved his skin. A light fog floated above the patches of mud and silt due to the warm temperature in the room. Soon, the orcs were sweating, and roots snagged at their feet, forcing them to alter course on occasion.

“Should we look for anything in particular?” Damon asked the group waiting in the center of the room, knowing many of the recruits had gaming experience.

“Maybe look for inscriptions, hints as to what might be in here,” Sierra offered.

As he drew closer to the walls, the orc general scanned the walls for markings. “Nope. Nothing like that.”

To his left, he could hear Hammer sniffling. Jackson’s death had hit the rookie hard, but regrettably, the veterans were getting used to the experience. As Damon closed to within fifteen feet of the circular wall, the layer of silt that lay on top of the heavy mud began bubbling. The mud started to bulge upward. Beneath the muck, he could hear some of the thick roots pop like gunshots.

Damon clutched his skelchion sword tightly, waiting for the enemy to reveal itself. He heard the other orcs shouting now, but didn’t pull his eyes away from the swelling mound.

The mud cracked open as a brown creature broke through the surface, quickly rising to Damon’s height. On the top half of its body, its skin bubbled, spherically reflecting the amber light from the nearby glow spells, while its lower extremities sagged like a willow tree.

The monster inched toward him on all fours, then raised its front hooves above the orc general’s head. The beast roared, a sound that was bubbly and congested, and a thick strip of green slime flew from its mouth. It splattered onto Damon’s face as his Creature Description details appeared.

STUCCO (Level 19)

HP: 348

MP: 248

STRENGTH: 68

CONSTITUTION: 34

DEXTERITY: 28

INTELLIGENCE: 24

WISDOM: 16

XP: 208

DESCRIPTION: Failed research experiment from C9’s Bullfighting Division.

Damon backed away from the stucco just as its wide hooves slammed into the mud, splashing silt onto his armor. The monster’s neck extended and it seemed to look right at him, but the orc general couldn’t detect eyes anywhere on the creature’s head or body. Under the flaps of its bubbling skin, Damon could feel its hot breath wisp over him. A pair of flat and boney nubs poked out of its head. It surged forward, trying to gore him with the remains of its horns.

Damon swung his sword at the creature’s head, easily slicing through the stucco’s body and splitting it down the front. The right and left halves curled away from each other, and with its flesh exposed, he could see its skull bone outlining the creature’s brain. He tapped the tip of his sword against the white matter.

“That thing is nothing but mush,” Damon said. He drove his sword through the rest of its body.

The two halves flopped over, settling slowly into the mud. Strangely, the stucco never cried out. It did not react to his attacks.

Damon turned to the other orcs. “Guys. Just use your sword,” he shouted as he noticed that some of the monsters on the floor were much smaller than the one he had encountered. “It cuts through them like butter. These mud monsters are a walk in the park.”

Zack shook his head. “You better think again. Turn around.”

Damon did and caught the end of the stucco’s metamorphosis. The two halves had moved away from each other. Almost simultaneously, legs jutted out of the flesh like antennas. The smaller hooves pounded into the heavy mud and two creatures rose before him. His Creature Description popped up again.

STUCCO (Level 9)

HP: 174

MP: 124

STRENGTH: 34

CONSTITUTION: 17

DEXTERITY: 14

INTELLIGENCE: 12

WISDOM: 8

XP: 104

DESCRIPTION: Failed research experiment from C9’s Bullfighting Division.

“Oh, great,” Damon sighed, then glanced around the room. The same thing had happened to all mobs. They had been split and multiplied.

Armando caught his eye. “Should we even be attacking them at this point?”

The orc general checked with Harper, who was standing with the others near the opening. She nodded.

“Let’s give it one more go,” Damon answered, then turned to face the reshaped stuccos.

The smaller mobs had sharper horns, and one now trudged toward him. He swung his sword horizontally this time, slicing through the two creatures. Their torsos quivered for a few moments before tumbling into the mud. This time, Damon didn’t wait for the screen to appear. He checked his Creature Description.

STUCCO (Level 4)

HP: 87

MP: 62

STRENGTH: 17

CONSTITUTION: 8

DEXTERITY: 7

INTELLIGENCE: 6

WISDOM: 4

XP: 57

DESCRIPTION: Failed research experiment from C9’s Bullfighting Division.

#

“Goddammit,” Damon shouted, then peered up at the face sculpture in the ceiling. It was still closed. He glanced at the other orcs, who had similar expressions of frustration. “Harper, we haven’t got all night. The troops are tired. What do we do?”

“Try your hammers,” she suggested.

The orcs pounded the mobs, which divided into multiples of four. The one-foot-tall stuccos scurried on the surface of the mud now. Damon glanced back at the veteran mage, who sighed.

4

Harper called the orcs back to the center of the room. The stucco munchkins followed them, moving more quickly than the larger beasts which were mired in the mud. The veteran mage examined her spells list. She launched Mana Flash, hoping the spell’s mana-draining function would prevent the mobs from multiplying. The red beam expanded in a widening path, striking at the creatures in the middle of the room. It drained their mana as she expected, but the creatures still divided.

The stuccos looked more like large spiders now, and they moved rapidly toward the teammates near the opening. Harper launched Dirt Squall to drive the mobs back. She tried Fire Scorch next and saw immediate results. The small creatures lit up like tissue paper and the flames quickly engulfed them. Harper withdrew the spell, leaving a large portion of the mobs untouched by the fire.

“What are you doing?” Silo asked exasperatedly.

Harper glanced at the British recruit. “I want the rookies to collect the XP,” she answered, then turned to Sierra and Vlad, the team’s other two mages. “Go crazy.” They did, blasting away the remaining stuccos in quick succession.

The veteran mage heard stone grinding above their heads and knew what it was before they even looked. The face in the ceiling looked down at them. Its eyes glowed turquoise and its mouth was open.

Harper smiled at her teammates. “I’m gonna assume no one wants to spend the night in this shith—“

A wet bubbling sound emanated from near the walls. She turned and saw more full-sized stuccos rising from the mud. Harper shot a glance at the ceiling. The mouth was still open.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” she muttered.

5

It was the wolves’ growls that woke Emma from a deep sleep. Still in a daze, she looked around while the growls became more aggressive. Now the wolves were barking. But that wasn’t quite right, she realized. Only a few of the wolves were creating the commotion. She glanced to her side and saw that Brett was gone.

She heard heavy stomps crashing through the forest from the western hill. Wood creaked and then trees fell, booming thunderously in the dead night. Emma equipped her armor and sword. As she began scrambling out of the A-frame, an enormous head swept out of the darkness and flew in over the bonfire. The wolves scattered.

The monster’s face eased into the opening of the A-frame, filling its entire space. A gigantic animal’s skull was mounted onto the beast’s otherwise long-furred head. Emma saw just the bottom edge of thick horns that protruded past the margin of the A-frame. Underneath the cracked yellow skull, black-and-white glitched eyes regarded her. The beast emitted a low, rattling growl as it inched further in.

Emma held her sword out as she backtracked over the bedding. “What do you want?” she shouted, not knowing if the beast would understand her.

It appeared not to. Its skeletal jaws opened, revealing long fangs. She felt the air around her get sucked toward the gaping mouth. She wasn’t sure where the realization came from, but Emma was certain that the beast was smelling her.

Then it will eat me, she thought.

But the giant only rattled again. She heard wood scraping and realized that the behemoth was wrapping its long arms around the far side of the cabin. She glanced over her shoulders and saw claws gripping the opening. And in the darkness behind that, tendrils fluttered like black snakes in the night air. The Wendigo! Emma thought and shuddered.

The beast leaned in further. Its swirling black eyes hovered two feet from her face. “You are not the one,” the creature croaked, then its head slowly began retreating from the A-frame. It drifted away from the opening as the monster stood and lumbered away from the clearing.

Emma chased after it, wanting to see more of the beast. She ran out of the A-frame and saw the giant returning to the river. It was at least eighty feet tall. Its thin body towered over the trees. Its legs were like that of a horse’s, and its long elk horns stretched into the midnight sky. She watched the beast scale the hills, knocking down trees in its wake. As its horns slipped under the crest of the last hill, she finally lost sight of it.

Emma stood ten feet from their shelter, trying to assess everything that had just happened. You are not the one, it had said. What did that mean? She didn’t know, but she was sure it was the Wendigo.

For the first time since the monster had appeared, Emma saw the wolves. Most of them had circled the camp, passive observers to the visitation. She walked up to them. They growled at her.

Emma frowned. “Guys, it’s me,” she said, but the growling continued. She got within ten feet of the wolves, but wouldn't go any further. In the dim light, she saw dark marks on their fur. She cast a Fire Glow spell and guided the orb to the wolves. Their ears were matted with so much blood that it held them back, stuck to their heads.

She took a couple of steps forward. “Oh, you’re injured.” The wolves’ eyes turned red, and they snapped at the night air. She stumbled backward, startled by their sudden change.

As she stood in the clearing, shocked by the chain of events, the remaining wolves scampered back to camp from the shadows of the woods. They were marked as well, but not as strikingly. They trotted up to Emma with their tails between their legs. She guided the light back and, in the amber glow, touched the blood on their ears. It felt cold, but it was real. As she gazed at one wolf, she saw pinpricks of red light flash across its still green pupils.

“You’re changing, aren’t you?” she whispered.

The wolf licked her hand.

She stayed near the wolf, allowing herself time to process everything that had gone on. Eventually, she walked to the edge of the clearing and scanned the forest, searching for any sign of Brett. Did the Wendigo take him? she wondered. Or is he lying injured somewhere?

“Brett?” she called out, but there was no answer. She tried his name again, louder this time. Still nothing. She sighed, resigned to what she knew she had to do.

Emma stepped back into the A-frame and unequipped her armor and sword. She pulled on the underwear she’d never had a chance to earlier, then re-equipped her outer layer. With her sword in hand, she walked into the western forest, searching for any sign of Brett or his remains.

6

While Emma was realizing that the wolves were changing, Brett was flying back to camp. He stopped at the raging river. The tower still leaned eastward, and he wondered why it hadn’t completely fallen over yet. But that wasn’t his concern. He needed to speak to the Wendigo who—unknowingly to Brett—had just returned to the rip in the border.

He levitated close to the black glitch and stared into the swirling lights. They mesmerized him. With more of the ichor void exposed, he felt he could become lost in it. Unknowingly, he drifted closer to its edge. He yelped when he realized what he was doing and stopped himself just six inches away from the glitch’s surface.

“Damn,” he muttered, shaken by how easily he could have been swallowed into the black universe. Still, there was a part of him that wanted to go in. He could become the realm’s next god. It could transform him into a powerful being. But his fear overruled his curiosity and his desires. Sighing, Brett focused on what had brought him to the glitch in the first place.

“Master?” he asked.

The dark voice boomed back, full of the vigor it had stolen from him earlier. “Yes?”

“You… you…” Brett stammered, then stopped himself, frustrated with his tendency to stutter whenever he approached the beast. You are showing weakness every time you do this, he thought. Man the fuck up! He took a breath and started again. “You told me tha… that I would have a greater role in the future,” he said. “When can I exact my revenge?”

From within its ichor world, the Wendigo sighed. It was an emotion Brett had never expected. Is it disappointed in me? Has it grown weary of me? he wondered but was afraid to ask. After a long silence, Brett started hovering away from the river.

Then the beast spoke to him. “You may have your way with any of the humans, but you must not harm two people. Jordan and…” The beast paused, then told him the second name.

7

She had almost reached the river when she saw Brett flying above the forest. Emma unequipped her sword and levitated up through the trees. As a startled expression came over his face, Emma growled, “Where the hell were you?”

They met each other in the chilled air and flew back toward the camp. “I… I…” he stammered. “I was checking on the team,” he said apologetically, then quickly added that he had found the dungeon, hoping it would distract her from her anger.

She didn’t fall for it. “Why were you checking on them?”

He smiled uneasily. “I wanted to make sure they were alright…”

“Don’t lie to me!” Emma screamed.

He recoiled as they glided over the last remaining trees. “Okay, okay,” he moaned. “It started because I didn’t think they would honor our truce. I wanted to protect…”

“Wait a minute,” she interrupted him for the second time. “You’ve done this before?”

Their footpads landed on the clearing. Brett raised his hands, but couldn’t think of what to say. You’re going to lose her, he thought. You’re going to lose the one thing that has made you happy.

Emma stared at him coldly. “You listen to me. If you do this again, I’ll leave you, Brett,” she seethed. “Do you hear me? I’ll leave you.” She turned and stomped back to the A-frame.

He rushed after her like a worried mother. The wolves that were surrounding the perimeter of the camp growled at him. Brett stopped in his tracks. He looked around. They were not only growling; they were baring their teeth. In the darkness, he saw over a dozen incisors shining blue from the shadows. And he saw the red eyes. The same that Warg had started exhibiting days before. Could this night get any worse? he thought as he proceeded into the A-frame and lay beside Emma, who had her back to him.

“I’m sorry,” Brett whispered, but she didn’t speak to him again for the rest of the night.