Lair

by Carl Stubblefield

  Gus thought about his ex-girlfriend and all the things she cajoled him to do and he didn’t have the balls to resist. He thought of all the jobs he had taken, even being a henchman in the first place, in the vain attempt that his dad would see his resolve and give him the acceptance he felt he deserved. When it came down to it, he had been living a pseudo-life. And he realized that was part of the reason he was so angry. That the people who shaped his life knew so little about him and weren’t shaping it to his tastes.

  The unpleasant truth of his passive acceptance of this became blatantly clear as well, and the blame rested on him, not them. They wanted what they thought was best for him, and since he didn’t voice his feelings, they continued behaving as they always did. Encouragement being perceived as nagging. Suggestions perceived as judgments and criticism of his failures.

  “Too many,” Gus admitted quietly, “but hopefully less, from now on,” his voice becoming more determined.

  Gus struggled to let go of the feelings of blame and victimization, but it was so hard! They were like comfortable blankets that protected him from the cold truth of responsibility. They gave him an excuse to stay the same as he always was, and justified him when something came a little too close for comfort.

  Giving him just enough plausibility to remain in the status quo, changing little and staying unhappy. Not being able to precisely diagnose his own discomfort with life, but knowing that it was not one he had chosen, and cycling through depression, anger, and sadness at how the world had misjudged him.

  “Gus, you’re the only one who can do anything about this situation. There’s no one else to save you. No safety net to catch you if you make a mistake. So unfortunately, the time for excuses and rationalization is over. So I ask you again, what are you going to do?” Nick asked.

  Gus stood and walked toward the clearing. Reaching the forest edge, he looked out and wondered what he could do to turn the tables. From his minimap, the Dark Nth were not entering the manor for some reason. Was the manor keeping them out? He couldn’t count on them possibly figuring something out in time. He didn’t want them contaminating the A.I. that ran the manor, and what havoc that would cause.

  Realizing that he wasn’t totally defenseless, Gus muttered, “Nothing’s ever easy…”

  But this time, a determination showed in his demeanor that had not been there before. It wasn’t supposed to be easy. And it never would be. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t come out on top. To be the person he imagined himself to be, without all the baggage. Or in spite of his baggage. Gus turned his eyes to the manor and set his jaw. Time to get to work.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The General

  Sometime the previous day…

  Methiochos evaluated what his observers had shown him. To be honest, he was expecting… more. He evaluated the last skirmish and ordered his Mantids to retreat when the super demonstrated a unique leveling event, allowing the warrior to fight at a much higher level.

  It was unexpected to see the increase in martial ability, but one opponent could be managed. All evidence showed that this invader was all alone. Knowing this enemy a little more made him less impressive in Methiochos’ eyes. Observers could analyze and detect the use of skills and could determine stat levels, and his nemesis on the island had shown his hand.

  There were powers to be sure, odd ones, but they would not be enough to retain the manor. Manticorps must have suffered immensely from his attempted coup if this was all they could muster. Oddly, they had not taken enough control to access its true power. He suspected that Archon knew what made the manor unique. Unique enough for any of the Factions to war against each other to gain control over it.

  Time was still difficult to gauge. How long had he been in stasis? What had Manticorps become in that time? Did it matter? The most likely thought was that the interloper was Manticorps’ emissary. Had the intruder found it already? If so, then Methiochos had already lost. But if he hadn’t, there could be a way to finally overcome the Dark Nth.

  Methiochos mentally congratulated himself for deciding to go with the sequential unlocking format for the manor instead of having everything readily available. Initially, he had done it to encourage those he had brought to do their best work, and he would reward them for their diligence by providing benefits and perks that the manor had to offer. Luxury on an island paradise. After their work was done, of course.

  That dream was gone now, thanks to some traitor. He would need to clarify his memories by meditating and absorbing more energy, then he could remember who it was. The desire to know burned deep within and drove him to get back to full strength. With each session of meditation, he found that he was regaining both his prior stats, as well as his powers. The many years of hibernation had allowed everything to atrophy. But he would never be unprepared or blindsided again. There was always someone looking for something easy to gain from someone else’s work. Just like this invader. Never again.

  He made plans to end this at their next battle. Methiochos organized his attack methodically. He would use a large phalanx of his infantry to tax the resources of the enemy. Once sufficiently weakened, he would send in his assassins to further harry the super. Then his gladiators would finish him as the other troops surrounded him, cutting off all retreat. With the nuisance dealt with, he could establish contact with the manor. Methiochos knew that if he could access level twenty-three of the manor, there was a chance he could cleanse the taint of the Dark and regain himself.

  His army would have to be dealt with before then; the Dark had fully taken them and there was nothing left to save. He could turn them on each other when that time came. They were already willing to consume their fallen; it would be a small step to compel them to attack one another. It would be a shame to lose them, but he would have time once he cleansed himself. He would send them to secure the entrance and after he had regained his full powers, he would at long last leave this tomb of a cave. Soon.

  Methiochos once again was disturbed by the betrayal that led to him becoming this thing. He looked at his ever-expanding body, transformed into what could be best described as a centaur with his lower torso resembling an octopus instead of a horse. He had many more tendrils than eight though, of varying thicknesses and lengths. It was fascinating and repulsive at the same time. A physical embodiment of his power to ensnare and control others.

  Someone he had trusted had done this to him. He still did not know who the instigator was; that part of the past was still confusing and out of his grasp. He was glad he had not lost all of himself going into his hibernation; it was a close thing. With his preparations made, Methiochos allowed the tendrils to sink into the magma and he faded back into his memories.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Rocky Mountain High

  Day 9 9:59 AM

  1:15:11 remaining

  Gus looked at himself and it was rough. His newly fabricated armor, despite being durable and functional, was gouged and worn. Much as he hated to do it, he needed to use the Kroutonium for armor. Gus figured that he would need to get into the manor, maybe make some armor of some sort out of the remaining Kroutonium plate and come up with a plan on how to get rid of the Dark Nth. He looked up at the tall building, from the edge of the same field where he saw it for the first time. That seemed like ages ago.

  Gus tried to suss out how he could get back into the manor. There were probably multiple ways to enter located around the island, but he hadn’t anticipated losing access. You don’t know what you don’t know, until life hits you with some new problem. Gus hadn’t really explored many areas of the manor and the only access to the outside he knew of was from his suite, at the top of the structure. From his hiding spot by the forest edge below, Gus could see the back side of the manor that emerged out of the rock and proceeded upward to the top of the main tower-like structure.

  Circling around the field, being careful to stay within the tree line, Gus tried to get a vantage point that would let him plan how he cou
ld get up there. He saw that if he could make it to the craggy rock surface above, he could theoretically climb up then across. He would have to circle around since the suite window was on the opposite side of the mountain, facing the ocean. The outer surface of the manor was smooth but if he could use the ledges by the windows as footholds, he hoped he could shimmy around and make it to a balcony and climb up and inside.

  Gus hoped he could use Ether Weaving to help anchor himself in place and save him in case of falling. He figured he could use his Basic Flight skill if there were some short hops between the windows or if he had to climb to another level and there were no handholds. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was doable.

  However, it seemed like the blob zombies could detect when he activated his skills, and he didn’t want to do anything that would make it any easier for the zombies to notice him. He was unsure of their scanning range, but with how adeptly the Mantids moved through the trees, he had no doubt that they could scale the outside of the manor. He wouldn’t be able to use his skills as a crutch, and needed to do this on his own as much as possible.

  “No safety net indeed,” Gus mumbled, remembering Nick’s earlier chastisement.

  Gus circled farther to the steep cliff that was under the overlook. To the right of the structure, rough igneous rock bulged up and outward like a mushroom cap. The first challenge would be reaching the rock forty feet high, then securing a grip, and climbing upside down over the lip of the rocky bulge to make it on top. Gus had only been rock climbing once or twice on dates, where everything was secure and safe by wearing a harness and having someone below belaying for you.

  To be honest, he was never really good at it. The instructor tried to demonstrate some techniques but putting them into practice was a little less intuitive. His arms got tired too fast and he dropped repeatedly off the walls that were studded with grips of various types and colors. He remembered that he was supposed to keep his body as close to the wall as possible, to use his feet to push upward rather than his arms, and to keep his arms straight as possible. There was more, but those were the few pieces of advice he could remember at the moment.

  “Time to make the chimi—” Nick said.

  Just as Gus said, “Time to make the donuts!”

  “Going old school, eh? I like it!” Nick exulted.

  Gus readied himself for the first part of the plan. If he directed his first Dash upward, he found he could run up the rocky cliff wall, but it was hard to go all out with the fear of falling backward if he missed the rocky overhang. Part of his brain rebelled and rejected the idea of running up a wall.

  Another problem was that he didn’t want to hit the rocky ledge at full speed and knock himself out. Gus found a section of the sheer rock face that had a slight incline that he could slide down if he was short. Attempting a ten-foot dash, he hovered at the apex of the dash and felt the lurch of gravity reasserting itself and he hugged the wall, sliding down. The friction of sliding down the wall slowed him down enough that he didn’t hit the ground very hard.

  Next was a twenty-foot dash. Gus was more prepared for the sensation, but had dashed straight up and was farther away from the wall than he had expected and panicked for a second, pinwheeling his legs like a cartoon character until he came into contact with the wall and sloppily slid down to the ground again, doing a small roll.

  Brushing himself clean, Gus looked back at the cliff face. That time he’d definitely hit harder and had to roll away a bit to bleed off some momentum and spare his poor knees. Gus gave himself a moment to shake out the tension and brace himself for another try. For number three he attempted twenty feet again, but tried to better estimate the angle he would need to stay parallel with the rock face.

  Since the dash ability was basically an ether pull, he could direct the vector he travelled if he focused on where he wanted to move. This time he had similar success to his first try. Thirty feet gave him more acceleration by the end of his fall than really felt comfortable and Gus had to roll away again, getting covered in dead leaves and detritus, hitting his head on a small rock as he rolled away. Gus scratched at the itchy painful area on the back of his head. After a couple seconds, the Nth kicked in and removed any inflammation and calmed his pain receptors down.

  Gus was at last ready to attempt a full dash that would bring him to the bottom of the rocky overhang. Then the real fun would begin. Gus dashed forward and scrambled for purchase but could find no handholds. He began sliding downward, and after ten feet, he tried to dash back up again with a little lateral movement thrown into the push. Gus slid five feet to the left as he again crested up the cliff and was able to secure two handholds. As his momentum petered out again, he felt a sharp jolt to his shoulder sockets as he dropped to supporting himself without assistance.

  Gus’ increased strength allowed him to pull himself upward but his stamina bar was draining quickly. Gus whipped his leg out onto another rocky protuberance and got his heel anchored there and relieved some of the stress on his arms. Taking a quick breath, Gus pulled and pushed until he could grab two new handholds and was supporting himself by his small foothold. Panting he held there looking for another foothold, his hand patting around the unseen upper edge of the ledge, questing for a handhold. Gus was still fighting gravity by hanging upside down, and realized he had to press on or risk bottoming out his stamina and falling. Losing his progress and hurting himself in the process were good motivators to keep moving.

  Gus remembered that he had to rotate his shoulders, not arms, in order to avoid wearing his upper body out. He twisted as he reached for more handholds. Luckily, they were easy to find in the porous rock, but the rock was brutally abrasive and sharp in some areas. Some areas he could fit his fingers in smooth indentations that must have been where there were bubbles when the rock was cooling. They gave him a secure grip while he repositioned and settled his other hand and footholds. Gus reached the lip of the overhang and was at a distinct disadvantage, because he had to remove a hand to quest for another handhold, blind from the lip blocking his view of what was above. He would pat blindly, then have to hurriedly grab back to the handhold until his stamina refilled.

  Finally, he found a nice wide groove that he could hang onto with both hands. Gus realized he would have to hook his heel onto another foothold or pull himself up with his arms alone and he was afraid that too much strain would bottom out his stamina mid-attempt, even with his increased strength stats. Gus surged upward with his legs, pulling himself upward, extending his legs to their full length and bracing with one leg secured and one leg to a small recess above the lip.

  “Dayum, Dayum, Da-yum!” Gus shouted as he shifted his weight to his upper leg and began trying to pull himself over the edge. Another handhold helped pull enough of his body over the edge that he was supported by the rock, not hanging off of it. A chime sounded as he clung, wrung out on the rocky lip.

  You have unlocked the skill: Rock Climbing (Level 1)

  Hey, wallcrawler! You are more able to recognize adequate hand and footholds. Level this skill to unlock more functionality.

  100 XP awarded

  “Really? Now?” Gus panted. “I guess skills are skills…” He realized that there was still a long way to go before reaching his destination. He lay there panting as his stamina bar slowly filled completely. When his heart rate and breathing slowed to a manageable level, he continued on. From atop the overhang, Gus was able to progress with a mixture of an army crawl and rock climbing to continue upward. Ledges and handholds began to show up in the display as red for tiny handholds, orange for medium and yellow for large, easy places to grasp. Following the guided display, he made his way to a flat area atop the outcropping. Sitting down, he let his stamina bar refill, and looked up at the mountain nearby to plan his further ascent.

  Luckily, the rise atop the outcropping was gradual and provided multiple larger areas to rest, so he wouldn’t be hanging for his life the whole way up. Looking at his hands, he saw that while his gloves were ri
pped and torn, his fingers weren’t bruised or scraped, despite the punishment the initial climb inflicted. Attributing it to Nth assistance, Gus was glad that he wouldn’t have to climb on cut, bleeding fingers. This job was difficult enough as it was.

  When his stamina bar topped off, he started again. This climb was much easier in comparison, as he was able to simply stand and regain stamina. Gus took a moment to look out at the jungle and forest below as he rose above the canopy. Wisps of smoke were emanating from the volcano now, reminding Gus that the once silent beast was awake now.

  From this height, he could see the corner of the lawn and some zombies milling about. He ducked back to face the mountain and kept climbing until he reached the junction where the manor poked out of the rock. There was a sill surrounding the windows and a small two inch ledge that expanded to six inches when in front of one of the large oval windows. Gus was able to grab and transition to the sill and slide to the first window ledge. After sliding to the third window, following the curve of the overlook, he noticed the wind.

  Waiting between gusts, Gus timed his movements from window to window when it seemed the calmest. The windows were narrow enough that he could brace himself within with outward pressure, so he was pretty stable while standing directly in front of a window.

  The thickness of the divider between each window compartment was only three inches and narrow enough to be gripped and then used as an anchor by his trailing hand as his leading hand crawled across the next window until he could grab the next divider transition. Taking his time, Gus finally made it around the curve of the building to where he saw a familiar view. Looking upward he saw a balcony two stories up. Gus moved until he was in a window recess directly below the balcony. “This one’s for all the marbles,” Gus said as he prepared himself for one crucial dash. Gus launched himself and caught the edge of the balcony railing. He almost lost his hold with the jolt his already-strained shoulder joints took from the abrupt stop as gravity tried to yank him down after the leap.