《The Art Of The Popup Dungeon》Chapter 3
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Chapter 3
On The New Metareality. Chapter 1
Roughly 20 years ago in 2010 the world changed. Why it changed we don't know.
When exactly it changed we don't know.
Whether it will change again or even change back… We don't know.
How it changed we don't fully know, the effect can be seen all around us in the form of metaphysics.
Metahumans.
Metafauna.
Metaflora.
Metamaterials.
And finally metaregions.
There may be more but currently we don't know.
In this book I will attempt to pass on the current theories, proofs and facts that we currently possess. I will try to do this in a vaguely amusing way for those of you with short attention spans.
Within the combat chamber there was less of a fight and more of a farce. The group of large rats were leaping onto Big Al, biting and scratching while he flailed awkwardly trying to keep them away from him. Cassie stared at the sight, dumbstruck before stalking into the fray to start kicking rats to death. The only rat to jump at her found the tactic less effective against a prepared foe and was promptly swatted out of the air. Meanwhile Benji and Donga were helping Big Al by punching and slapping at the rats climbing on the larger teen. Shortly Alphonse was rid of the rats and in new possession of a collection of bites, scratches and bruises from the enthusiastic ‘assistance’ of his friends.
“You fucks didn’t have to hit me so hard.” Big Al grumbled.
“Helping.”
“And you didn’t have to fucking charge in all on your own like an bloody idiot.” Growled Benjamin in annoyance. “Don’t be shit and you won’t get shit.”
“Fine. Whatever. Let’s just get the reward and get out. I need to get some bandages on these” Al muttered gesturing to his bites.
“Antiseptic too. Those rats probably had some kind of disease.”
“So how do we get the reward anyway?” Asked Cassie as she tried to scrap some rat gore off her boots
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“Orb.” Donga declared while he pointed towards a pillar in an alcove opposite the entrance.
The pillar was similar to the one in the first room. The spherical gem it contained started glowing shortly after the last rat was killed.
“Loot!” Cheered Big Al, immediately shuffling over to the pillar. Confidently placing his meaty paw on the gem he was reward with a ding and a translucent screen that read:
[Hello There! For overcoming a combat challenge you have been reward the skill
{You flail at everything nearby including yourself. Bonus to damage to self and others from awkward flailing.}
Congratulations!]
“What the fuck is this?” Fumed Alphonse. “This is fucking bullshit.”
“What’s wrong?” Benjamin asked.
“I got a skill but it’s bullshit. Awkward flailing. It increases the damage flailing does to enemies and myself.”
“Ah well. Maybe don’t flail around awkwardly in the future.”
“Sucks to suck.” Was Dolphins contribution.
While the boys were distracted Cassowary tapped the orb and after the ding she let out a happy yell.
“Yeah suckit motherfuckers! Got me a kicking skill.”
Big all was incensed. “Oh fuck off. What's it say”
“
{Kick faster, harder and more accurately.}” Crowed Cassie triumphantly.
“That actually sounds useful unlike my shitty flailing skill.”
“Yeah well.” As Cassie searched for words her brother interjeted.
“Sucks to suck, Rocks to rock.”
“Yeah what he said. You suck and I rock.”
After Dolphin and Benjamin received messages informing them [You haven’t earned any rewards] the group decided to retreat from the mysterious cave, and to come back later after getting some gear and patching up Big Al. Back in the entry room they found the pillar's orb emitting a pulsing glow. While sidling past, the orb flashed and a message prompt appeared.
[Hello there! You are the first group to clear the first combat challenge. Your next run rewards will be adjusted. Congratulations!]
Concurrently.
Mickey sat with one leg dangling into a dimensional portal and out into realspace half a kilometer away. While he could sense what was happening in his pocket dimensions anywhere, actually manipulating things required at least some physical presence. Thus by pairing portals into “dimensional repeaters” Mickey had exponentially increased his range, provided he had enough time to set them up.
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Mickey filed the paper skill sheets for in several places. First and foremost a reference was placed in the index, both the digital spreadsheet and in a large book reserved for the purpose, ordered by date. The physical manifestation of the skill was a quartz flecked rock the size of a Mickey's thumb nail. The energy pattern needed to imprint the skill was recorded in the crystalline surface. Now rather than creating a new skill for every challenger he could simply upload a skill from the archetype stone and get identical results every time.
The mechanics of the and skills were quite simple. It used a limited imitation of Mickey’s manipulation to shift kinetic energy around. Instead of the affected limb getting an equal and opposite force to striking something it would instead get a slightly less than equal force reacting in opposition, increasing the overall power slightly. After finally documenting and filing the skills created and the delver profiles Mickey decided to visit the bowls club.
After looking for his keys in vain for half an hour, Mickey gave up and went to the garage to summon his bike. Once there he noticed the glaring lack of his car.
“Aaahh, Right. She took the car today. I’m an idiot.”
Grabbing the spare house keys, Mickey headed out.
Members section, riverside bowls club.
Mickey ambles over to the warmly lit bar and sits down next to an old feller nursing a scotch.
“I recognize that look. Somebody just pulled off a heist.” rasped out the man with the scotch.
“Not quite Howard, but I did get a bite on that project I told you about.”
“Oh well , don't deny this old man a good story now. Give me the details.” Howard invited as he ordered a beer for his younger friend.
Mickey launches into a detailed account of the delver's misadventure.
“And he was flailing like nothing else so I gave him an skill. The room is geared to be doable solo if you have a pair of jeans, shoes and a stick. What kind of idiot goes in unarmed in shorts and thongs?” Laughed Mickey
“Oh lad, the number of heroes and villains I've seen brought low by a lack of preparation is too high to count. Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer ya know. But tell me how did you control the rats?” asked with a touch of suspicion in his smoke damaged voice.
“Aahh that. I used an imitation of Princess’ power and pu...” Mickey stopped talking as the temperature in the room dropped to freezing in an instant.
No not the room, just the area around him, his beer frozen solid and frost forming on the surfaces near him.
“And how did you get part of her power boy?'' Demanded the old monster sitting next to mickey.
“Asked nicely. Promised no killing.” Mickey choked out, the cold stealing his muscle control.
The old man considered this for a long moment before waving his hand.
“Fine, if she agreed, but if this comes back on her in any way boy i’m taking it out of you. ‘Bout time she started associating with other supes, and you’re safer then most.You just be careful, Understand?”
“Understood mate.” Mickey gasped as warmth flooded back into his body, thawing the frozen flesh and filling him with an agonizing itch.
"Ahh mate, could you unfreeze my beer?" Mickey asked, tapping the still frozen drink.
Harold looked him in the eye and said
"No."
Mickey pressed a hand against his chest in mock horror. "Le Gasp! You never retired at all did you, villain?!"
Mickey signaled for another beer.
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