Martian Invasion

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Martian Invasion Page 4

by Winter Morgan


  As Owen helped Asher free his sword, Miles quickly dispatched the other two cultists, who silently disappeared. He then walked over to Asher and un-snagged his blade from his pack with one easy movement. “You guys didn’t plan that whole thing to get my confidence back, did you?” Miles asked suspiciously. “Because it was almost too convenient . . .”

  Asher and Owen denied having anything to do with it. “We wouldn’t put ourselves in danger just to make you feel better, Miles,” Asher explained. “We’re nice but we’re not dumb.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Miles said.

  “Of course he’s right,” Owen replied. “We were in trouble and you helped us. It couldn’t be easier to understand. Don’t start making up ways to make yourself feel better about hanging up your sword. You’re a great warrior, whether you want to be or not. That’s why I followed you when I met you.”

  “I thought you followed me because you wanted a new guide,” Miles said.

  “First I watched you. I saw how you handled your weapons. How you made smart decisions when you had time, but how you used your quick reflexes when you needed to. I followed you because you’re good,” Owen explained.

  Miles turned so they couldn’t see his face redden with embarrassment. “Well, thanks, guys. Thanks for coming back for me and thanks for . . .” But Miles didn’t get to finish his speech. Another blue-robed figure entered the altar room. But this one was not bowing or holding arrows. Its face was ghostly, with a long nose, black piercing eyes, and a strong presence that made all three warriors feel like they were facing a great and ancient power. “It’s The Lunatic Cultist,” Miles whispered softly. “Whatever you do, don’t attack.”

  “I won’t even touch its sleeve,” Owen replied in a whisper.

  “The Ancient Cultist, fanatical leader of the dungeon coven, will counter any attack with a rain of fire, ice, or electric currents, according to the legend. The Dao of Pow has nothing on this guy—he can duplicate himself to create decoys of Ancient Cultists and if you strike the wrong one . . . well, you’ll end up in your own bed so fast it’ll make your head spin,” Miles continued quietly, recalling one of his least favorite ghost stories from childhood.

  “What will it do if we don’t do anything to it?” Asher asked. “Can it hurt us?”

  “No. It’ll only fight back if we attack. If we don’t, it will despawn and we’ll have to fight those blue-robed archers and devotees again tomorrow.” Miles led them out of the room toward the dungeon and sure enough the mob despawned with a pop.

  “Now that we know what we’re up against, it’ll be easy, right?” Owen said hopefully as they walked.

  “Yep. And when you guys are ready, you can fight the boss, start the Lunar Events and defeat the Celestial Towers, but that is a hard boss battle I have no intention of fighting now or ever,” Miles said.

  “You’ll eat those words, buddy. You always come back to the sword,” Asher said with a laugh as they rose up to the surface. The sky was bright and clear. The calm of an early morning just after dawn was a relief after the nightmares they had faced in the underground jungle. Miles wasn’t sure where they were and spun around in circles, unsure which way was home.

  Owen reached into his inventory and pulled out a compass. “Home is this way,” he pointed to the left uncertainly.

  “Are you sure you’re reading it right?” Asher asked grabbing at it to check.

  Owen snatched it back, annoyed. “You don’t trust me to read a compass?”

  As they argued Miles looked up ahead and saw a castle. It looked familiar. Miles couldn’t place it but he had an uneasy feeling. “Owen, I have to agree with Asher. I don’t think we went the right way,” he said.

  Owen looked at his compass and shook it. Asher grabbed it and turned it around. “You were looking at it upside down, Owen,” he said shaking his head. Then he looked up at the castle. “I think I’ve been here before, a long time ago.”

  “Me too,” Owen said nervously, walking up to the castle door. “I want to go in, but I’m scared.

  “Then we should definitely go in!” Asher said.

  As Asher approached the door, a message appeared: “Screams are echoing from the dungeon.”

  “That sounds scary . . .” Owen said.

  “Are you guys up for another adventure? I am!”” Asher asked as he turned the handle and the door creaked open.

  “I guess we don’t have a choice, now,” Miles said sullenly.

  Chapter 8:

  WHAT HAPPENS IN THE DUNGEON, STAYS IN THE DUNGEON

  Asher walked in and stopped cold in his tracks. “Skeletron.”

  Owen whipped around nervously clutching his blade. “What? Where? Not again!”

  Suddenly Miles remembered. “Right—this was the dungeon where I defeated Skeletron.”

  “Me too,” Owen and Asher replied at the same time.

  “This was one of the first tasks on the way to enter hardmode,” Asher recalled. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

  Miles suddenly felt small and embarrassed. He had been going through his adventures thinking he was the only one who was chosen to be a warrior, and the only one who had defeated Skeletron and the Wall of Flesh to get to this point. Asher and Owen had faced the same trials to get here. They were treating him as the expert, but really they all had earned the right to be called warriors after all they had been through. While all he really wanted was to go home and start fishing, he could read Asher and Owen’s excitement so plainly on their faces. Miles decided to hang back and let the other two take the lead as they entered the dungeon. As he walked in behind them, he saw that they were standing at the mouth of a labyrinth—a large maze that Miles knew would lead underground. “Watch out for traps,” Miles cautioned them before he remembered he wasn’t going to direct them.

  Owen pulled out his wrench and the wires lit up as they had before. “Thanks, Miles!” he called cheerfully, ducking and weaving around the traps and collecting the wires.

  Asher gave Miles an appreciative nod. “You saved us once again.” Miles grimaced. He’d have to remember to hold his tongue. If he kept warning them about dangers before they encountered them, they’d never learn on their own.

  Their footsteps echoed through the corridors. Owen activated a lantern switch on the cave wall that lit up the area around them. Suddenly, Asher grew alert. “Listen, do you hear that?” Miles heard a squish that sounded like a slime. He nodded. Asher whipped around and was faced with an indigo slime, rare and unusual in a dungeon but very helpful, Miles recalled. Asher hadn’t pulled out his weapon in time and was hit by the slime, taking damage. He fell to the ground clutching his arm. “Didn’t see that coming,” he grimaced.

  The slime bounced up and was about to hit Owen when Miles drew his sword and sliced it mid-air. It fell to the ground and disappeared, leaving a golden key behind.

  Owen picked it up and handed it to Miles. “Thanks, buddy. Here. You earned this.”

  “Add another save to your belt,” Asher said quietly as he waited for his healing potion to kick in. He sounded proud of Miles, not resentful as Miles would have expected.

  “It was nothing,” Miles mumbled, helping Asher to his feet. “You would’ve done the same for me.” They walked on through the labyrinth, deactivating traps and turning on light switches as they went. It was easy going once you knew the dangers to avoid, Miles thought. Experience was a great teacher.

  Owen stopped at a golden chest. “I think this chest matches your key, Miles.” Miles handed the key to Owen to open the chest but Owen shook his head. “You try it. You’ve earned it.”

  Miles shrugged and popped in the key, fighting the urge to flinch in case it was a mimic. He had to stop being so cautious and embrace the challenges of the adventure! The chest opened to reveal a large stash of coins that glowed in the lamplight.

  “You really hit the jackpot, Miles,” Asher said with a low whistle.

  “We hit the jackpot, you mean,” Miles said, dividing the t
reasure into three equal bags and handing two to his companions. “Three amigos, right?”

  Owen and Asher accepted the bounty gratefully. Their thanks were interrupted by a banging sound. Miles grabbed his repeater from his inventory. Asher noticed and pulled out the Nettle Burst. Owen grabbed his Megashark. They nodded silently at each other, knowing enemies were just around the corner. Sure enough, a Paladin emerged from the shadows, swinging its hammer. Asher dodged out of the way while Owen shot it with the Megashark, crippling its attack.

  As they inched forward carefully, Owen spotted another chest covered with green vines. “I think this is the jungle chest,” he said. It matched the key he had collected when they defeated Plantera.

  “Try it and see,” Miles said encouragingly. Owen fit the key into the lock and turned it. The chest opened to reveal a Piranha Gun. “Nice!” Owen shouted, examining the weapon to see what it could do.

  Miles heard a noise approaching from his right. He turned to see an evil-looking skeleton-faced creature wearing a robe. “Caster!” he called out, recognizing it from a poster of dangerous creatures the demolitionist kept on his wall. Miles shot his repeater at The Caster, but the knockback damage was too low. The Caster fired three shots back, hitting Miles on the leg. Miles was instantly blinded. The world turned black and he could hear a loud pop.

  “I got it!” Asher called out. Miles heard a burst of fire and heard The Caster drop. His vision cleared in time to see Asher picking up its drops: a golden key, a bone, and a sack full of coins. He grinned wildly. “Saved you this time! Starting to even the score.” Miles didn’t have time to thank him. Another enemy appeared—a Diabolist—with a grey robe and evil red eyes. It shot a fire bolt that whizzed past Miles’s ear, then disappeared, reappearing in another corner of the room.

  Owen raised his Pirhana Gun and aimed it at the Diabolist, shooting before it could release another fireball. The piranha ammunition targeted the Diabolist, latched on, and didn’t let go until its job was done. Owen let out a happy shout. “I LOVE THIS WEAPON!” Even in the heat of the battle, Asher and Miles laughed before turning to face the giant cursed skulls that had passed through the walls and were homing in for an attack. Asher raised his Nettle Burst and took out three while Miles finished the last two off with his repeater.

  Breathlessly they recharged their weapons and retreated to a corner of the dungeon room. Miles brought out a stack of healing potion and doled it out to his companions, drinking some himself. His supplies were getting low, but he couldn’t place the heart statue since they needed to travel. A slime bounced in and Miles shot it halfheartedly, destroying it with a blast of fire.

  “Nice shot,” Owen said, sounding tired, reaching out a bruised hand to pick up the gold key it had dropped. “Is there any place to hide from these enemies while we recover?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Miles said. “Lots of things down here seem to travel through walls and teleport after they shoot.”

  Asher shook his head. “I thought we were prepared for anything, but I don’t think I can take much more of this.”

  Miles was inclined to agree, but they still had to plot their escape. Up and out seemed the only way to go, but how would they get through more of these ghostly enemies? “I think we should retreat.” Both of his friends nodded and looked at him expectantly. It was clear they wanted him to make the plan, but Miles was tired, hungry, and hurt, and his mind was blank. They were trapped and no matter how he looked at it, they weren’t getting out of there without a fight.

  Chapter 9:

  SPIRITS IN THE NIGHT

  Miles checked his inventory and noticed one of his friends from the village had thrown in some snacks when he wasn’t looking. Happy he had such thoughtful friends, he tossed each of his companions an apple and they munched quietly as they figured out what to do. Miles kept his repeater out as he ate, absently blasting anything that flew into the room so they could concentrate on a plan.

  What he hadn’t counted on was the dungeon spirits. As Miles’s defeated enemy count mounted, ghostlike creatures started appearing, floating dangerously close to their heads. As his repeater recharged, he shot his Crystal Storm at a nearby enemy, hoping the confused debuff would send him in the opposite direction and buy him time. The enemy kept at him, though, and hit him with full force. He felt cold and weak as the spirit passed through him. Asher blasted the enemy, saving Miles from another attack. With a grateful nod to Asher, Miles drank his last remaining potion and raised his repeater to avoid any more hits. He collected the coins and ectoplasm dropped by the enemy and handed them to Asher. “What was that thing?”

  “If you don’t know, we certainly don’t,” Owen replied, taking out another one as it melted through the wall into the room.

  “It’s a ghost of some kind, that’s clear. A dungeon ghost, maybe?” Asher offered, taking out his bow and arrow and loosing a stream of arrows at an approaching skeleton.

  “Right! A dungeon spirit. They only come out when we kill difficult enemies,” Miles remembered.

  “Boy, all that reading really gave you an education about all these mobs,” Asher observed. “That knowledge would have been wasted if you stayed in town farming and fishing.”

  Miles had to agree he was right, but he still just wanted to go home and stand down from high alert. He had to get them out of the dungeon and above ground before they lost everything. “Let’s just get out of here, okay? We’ll finish this conversation later.”

  Owen checked his compass and pointed to the far wall. “I think we should go this way.” Miles and Asher looked at him. “No, really, it’s right side up now. It’s this way.”

  Miles shrugged. “I trust you. It’s better than staying in this room and being targets for whatever comes our way.” They walked out of the room and down a narrow hallway. Miles noticed Asher was limping slightly, but when he asked him about it, Asher shrugged it off and put his finger to his lips, signaling that they should be quiet. He motioned to take the left path in a fork they came to. Miles and Owen nodded and followed him. They entered a dead end filled with skeletons shooting arrows and fireballs at them. “Retreat!” Miles called, ushering them out behind him as he shot as many as he could with his repeater on his way out.

  Owen threw up a brick wall, sealing in the remaining enemies. They took the other path and made their way up to the surface. Flying dungeon spirits came at them from all sides and they each unleashed their weapons to quickly take care of the mob before collecting the coins and drops.

  “We need to start disabling mobs instead of destroying them if we want the dungeon spirits to stop coming at us,” Miles observed. “They only appear after we get rid of a high-level mob.”

  “Good point,” Asher said, rubbing honey on his leg.

  “You’re hurt,” Owen said to Asher.

  “We all have injuries,” Asher said, trying to sound casual.

  “We have to get out of here now,” Miles said. He looked around. “We’ve been in this room before,” he noticed. “The way out is through this corridor.” He pointed to the exit.

  A horde of skeletons appeared behind them. Owen threw up another wall, blocking the skeletons’ path. “Let’s get out of here!” he shouted, leading the way to the exit.

  The three warriors escaped from the dungeon, closing the door behind them and sprinting toward home. As they stopped and caught their breath, Miles pointed at the moon shining above them. “I don’t think the danger is behind us.”

  As if on cue, a horde of zombies came into view. “Weapons ready!” Asher called, pulling out his Megashark and firing at the crowd. Miles pulled out his repeater and hit two zombies and Owen hit three with his bow and arrow. Miles didn’t know if he could take much more combat. He was so tired, his bones ached, and he missed the comfort of his bed.

  As a new wave of zombies started to approach the trio, the sky lightened. In a few moments, any remaining zombies would sizzle in the sunlight and they would be free to go home. It was their first st
roke of luck since leaving home. Miles, Owen, and Asher breathed a sigh of relief as the sun rose on the forest and the zombies disappeared.

  Chapter 10:

  HOME AGAIN

  Bathed in the early morning sunlight, the three warriors made their way back to the village in silence. Each one was thinking about what they were looking forward to when they returned home. Owen was thinking of the party. Asher was looking forward to replenishing his supplies and getting a good rest before heading back out to face The Lunatic Cultist. Miles wanted to get back to his farm, go fishing, and catch up on some reading so he could prepare Asher and Owen for their next adventures.

  After a while, the terrain became more familiar. They didn’t need the help of a map or compass to know they were on the right path toward home. Miles knew he had left some things unsaid back in the dungeon and he realized this was the right time to bring it up. He wasn’t much for speeches or admitting he was wrong, but he owed that much to Asher and Owen. He cleared his throat, unsure how to begin. “Um . . . You were right back there.”

  Asher raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What’s that? I was what?”

  Miles grinned. “Right. You were right. Even though we got hurt pretty badly and used up our Mana and got attacked by spirits and angry mobs, I’m glad I stuck it out.”

  Asher and Owen high fived. “Knew it!” Owen said. “You love this stuff!”

  “I do. In small amounts,” Miles admitted. “This was a great vacation, but I’m ready to go back . . .” He didn’t get to finish his sentence. They were all distracted by a flying object that buzzed past them. “What’s that?” The other two shrugged in response. They ran over to get a better look.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was a spaceship,” Owen said scratching his head. “I must be really tired!” They all laughed and continued on their way home, their spirits lifted at the sight of the familiar landscape.

 

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