by Macronomicon
“A hundred and forty years, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Smartass said, giving Jeb a look that screamed ‘ask me why’.
“Why shouldn’t we get our hopes up?” Jeb asked.
Smartass sighed as if some invisible restriction had been lifted. “The wipe is coming in a couple weeks, so you should probably focus on enjoying the remaining time before you stop existing.”
In the distance, Felicia’s rhythmic pounding started to slow. They watched as the mountainous creature clutched its chest and staggered backwards, looking for all the world like a man suffering a massive heart attack.
The mountainous creature sank to its knees, the flames jetting out of its body diminishing as it slumped to the ground.
The World Tortoise shrugged Felicia off and placidly went back to grazing on trees, a living whirlpool of monsters swarming around it.
Nobody had any words for the dread creeping up their spines.
It couldn’t be killed. Not anymore.
Jeb recovered first.
“If we can’t win the Impossible tutorial, how do we escape?” He asked, changing tactics. In this situation survival and winning were synonymous. “Do we have some kind of trackers or I.D.s on us that they can use to ‘wipe’ us?”
“you can’t ‘escape’.” Smartass said. “We’re in a magic cage. The System pinched off a bit of the Death wilds and made it wrap in on itself.” Smartass said, spinning her fingers. “Go too far one direction and you’ll wind up right back where you started. It’s very big but it’s still a cage. There’s no access point either, nothing comes or goes, and at the end of the allotted time, everyone that isn’t supposed to be here gets unmade.”
Jeb’s skin went cold.
“Hold Ron,” he said, handing the ginger kid to the cluster of bodies, lowering them to the ground before taking off.
Jeb shot straight up at a hundred and twenty miles an hour, forming a large bubble of air trapped around himself, enough to last him a good half hour before he passed out.
He didn’t need nearly that much.
As he rose above the world, he paid close attention to the curvature of the planet.
It rapidly curved further and further as he pulled up, growing smaller and smaller as he rose literal miles above the planet.
There. Oh god.
Looking down at the rapidly shrinking marble beneath him, he could see the at the very edges, Felicia the Fire Titan, duplicated and stretched across the horizon, in more than one place at once.
Out of morbid curiosity, Jeb looked up, his lungs seizing as he spotted an identical marble of forest slowly growing above him.
Jeb screwed up his courage and went full steam ahead, watching the world above him grow and grow, its every detail an exact match for the one he just left.
It rapidly grew above him, until Jeb flipped himself upright, landing beside the rest of his party.
“You see anything?” Brett asked. Jeb glanced at him from the corner of his eye glancing up at the direction he’d come from. At some point the tiny planet he’d come from had faded from sight.
Was this Brett the same Brett as before, and Jeb just got turned around by twisted space, or was there some kind of parallel dimension fuckery going on?
Did it matter?
“Yeah, I saw that we’re screwed. The forest’s in some kind of bubble of twisted space.” Jeb said. “There’s no way out.”
“Fuck that. Fuck this! Jess shouted, glaring at all of them. “Are you telling me I’m going to die because that idiot Eddie was on a goddamn power trip? Why do I have to…” Her fists clenched, teeth digging into her lip until blood began to drip from the corner of her mouth.
“Should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” She said. “Maybe I wouldn’t be in this fucking…” She bit off her words, glared at Jeb for a moment before leaping away, sailing through the air with her Ability.
Jeb’s stomach sank as he scratched his head and sat down on a nearby log, idly wiggling his ill-fitting pegleg, contemplating death.
Not like it’s gonna make a huge difference anyway. Maybe if someone else makes a Blue serpent furnace, they’ll wonder who I was.
Brett let out a sigh, his arms wrapped around Amanda, whose face was buried in his shirt. “Jeb. We’re going to go process this. Let us know if something important comes up.”
Jeb gave them a halfhearted wave as the couple disappeared into the forest.
“I’m gonna…check on Jess.” Ron said.
“Try not to die,” Jeb said, waving him off, leaving Jeb sitting alone on the log.
Well, almost alone.
A hand clasped his shoulder, Casey peering over his shoulder, holding her child against her chest.
“For what it’s worth, I think Jess doesn’t mean that. She’s just scared. You saved my life, and I don’t think anyone could’ve done a better job than you.” Casey said gently.
That washed a little of the hollow feeling out of Jeb’s limbs, and forced an almost involuntary chuckle out of him.
“It’s worth a lot.” He fixed Smartass with his gaze, a tiny fire in his chest carrying him through.
He had more questions for the Fairy.
Chapter 21: In Through The Out Hole
A leader is a dealer in hope.
- Napoleon Bonaparte
The sun was going down, Brett and Amanda had come back, but Jess and the ginger necromancer were still AWOL. The shadows were getting deep in the thick of the forest, and it was only a matter of time before they would have to start moving again, try to find somewhere safe from the Tortoise.
Jeb was still pestering the fairy.
“Is there a way to survive the wipe?”
“Nope.”
“A way to avoid it?”
“Nope.”
“Hide from it?”
“Nope.”
“Not be here when it happens?”
“…No!” Smartass said with exasperation, throwing her hands up with an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you, nothing comes in, nothing goes out!”
“I’m just trying to ask every way I can, to make sure there’s nothing you’ve been prevented from telling us.”
Smartass snorted, her wings fluttering like she wanted to leave, arms crossed. She was frustrated, but able to stick it out for her greed. Jeb had promised her one pound of candy per month for the rest of his life if her assistance led to them surviving the Impossible tutorial.
She originally demanded chocolate, but Jeb explained that chocolate might be impossible to source if the world had ended. Sugar, not so much. There was plenty of that crap lying around.
Nothing comes in, nothing goes out.
The treasure chests come in, don’t they?
Jeb frowned, thinking back to the bloody chest with nicks on it that they’d received in the titan’s heart chamber. Nobody in their right mind would 3D print a box with wear and tear and blood. And the noise. Like someone shouting.
“What about the treasure chests?” Jeb asked. “Where do they come from?”
Smartass shrugged. “Idunno.”
“The treasure chest sphincter. Do you know of any way they could be held open?”
Smartass’s wings perked up and she burst into cackling laughter. “Jeb, are you thinking of going in through the out hole?”
“Is it possible?” Jeb asked.
“I don’t know. Nobody’s ever tried it.”
“Never?”
She shrugged. “Not that I’ve heard.”
That made a certain amount of sense. The sphincters showed up, dropped their goods, then faded into nothing. Most people couldn’t see them, and people were far more interested in whatever the chests held inside.
Was it possible?
…did it matter?
Nothing was more devastating to morale than hopelessness. The team needed something to do, even if that something was pointless, or a suicide mission. As long as they didn’t believe that, they had a chance at getting by. Because the alte
rnative was sitting around waiting for death, and that would cause problems. Serious problems.
So when Jeb finished talking with Smartass, he presented his plan as more of a sure thing than he honestly believed.
“Find Ron and Jess. Tell them I’ve got a way out.” Jeb said, standing from his log, puffing out his chest and looking every inch the confident military man.
“You do?” Brett asked.
“I do,” Jeb said with a nod, keeping a lid on his anxiety and hopelessness. “But we’re going to need everyone.”
Damn good odds this doesn’t work and we all die, Jeb thought, but seeing the light return to Casey’s eyes was almost worth misleading them.
Oh god, how am I gonna pull this off?
Jeb ran through his list of assets.
Most of his ingredients, including the raw lenses he’d been saving up, had exploded across the mountainside, leaving him with just what he’d been carrying.
He was carrying the Beautiful Revenge, his guerilla fireball wand, the BSF, the remains of his void lens, a fancy pen…
While he waited for Brett and Amanda to get back, he inspected the ebony and gold pen.
Xen’s Scrivener
Created by the ancient sindio Xen as a convenient tool for magical inlays, this pen removes matter from existence at a configurable depth and width. If a mistake is made, the user may turn the pen around and backfill the empty area with what was there previously.
- A collectable item bearing none of its creator’s evil, owning it is not illegal, but somewhat frowned upon by the church of Kolos
Hmmm….
Jeb held the pen in a writing grasp and felt a strong tug as Myst was pulled out of him at a rate that put the lantern to shame.
Curious, Jeb tested the pen on a nearby log.
Beneath its tip, the pen carved a perfect line, about an eighth of an inch wide and twice as deep.
Frowning, Jeb turned it over and rubbed the opposite side across the carved line.
The removed wood was back where it had been previously, without a single break in the grain to show it had even been gone, seamlessly reintegrated back into the whole.
Fancy doodad.
Jeb tried a couple things, gently pushing more Myst in, then restricting it, making it go in at odd angles. Everything had an effect, widening the channel, deepening it, making it lopsided or narrow at the point of contact, but widening out inside the material.
It was surely a tool that with the right skill, could be used to make amazing works of art.
Too bad that’s not what I need right now, Jeb thought, gripping the pen in both hands and snapping it in half.
Well, he tried.
The pen had a lot more durability than Jeb thought, not even bending as he used his full strength on the fancy paperweight.
Jeb set the pen down and glared at its whorling gold filigree.
“Okay, two can play at this game.”
Jeb spent the next couple minutes deconstructing the Beautiful Revenge, grabbing its tiny Myst siphon and one of the grain sized sections of Void Lens.
He affixed them to a rough shaft carved out of wood, then aimed his makeshift plasma cutter at the side of the pen.
The tiny void lens was only capable of cutting a tiny, pinprick-sized amount of the pen, but Jeb was patient, going over it again and again until he cut through the side.
Then he flipped the pen over and did the other side.
Finally, he popped the two halves of the gold and black construction apart.
“Damn,” Jeb muttered.
It felt like the first time he’d ever cracked open a PC and gazed upon the tangled mess of computer guts.
There was a lens at either end, and a couple more in the middle, along with what looked like a Myst engine barely bigger than a .5 lead for a mechanical pencil.
There was a strong siphon, somehow stronger than the one in the lantern, but smaller. The thing that really reminded him of a computer were the several plates of complicated pseudo motherboard, that Jeb assumed dictated the pen’s brush behavior and allowed it to restore material on command.
Let’s see if we can break it down like a computer, Jeb thought to himself, eyes straining to see all the little parts of the contraption in the fading light.
Power supply, Jeb thought, tracing the siphon output to the front and back lenses, along with one of the middle lenses.
Internal clock and behavior, he thought, tracing the Myst engine’s output to the motherboard-reminiscent plates…
That’s interesting, he thought, tracing the power supply to one of the internal lenses, which was receiving a constant supply of Myst. Through some feat of engineering, the Myst being fed into this lens was scattered, touching every part of the pen’s guts.
Jeb singled it out and inspected it.
Processed space creation lens (tiny)
These rare lenses are found in the wake of the Drifting Roil, and are highly sought after by wizards for their convenience.
These lenses are used to create extra space around their focal point, effectively shrinking their target, although the difference should be noted. They are most often put to use in handheld artifacts of great power, bypassing space limitations.
Hmm.
Jeb checked the other lenses, and organized them in his head. from business end, to business end, this is what he got.
This one shears matter away, this one stores it, this one moves them back and forth between the two extremes, this one shrinks the guts, this one puts matter back where it came from.
There was a control plate for each of the extremes , the storage lens, and the one that moved them back and forth, four in total.
The storage behavior plate had a constant flow of juice from the engine, likely because it acted as the RAM, holding on to the matter it had picked up even while the user wasn’t actively using the pen.
I wonder if it dumps its memory every now and then, or if it’s got tons of material waiting to explode out of here the moment I cross the wrong wires.
Either way, Jeb was very interested in both the ‘shrinking’ lens and the storage lens. Both of them warped space, and he had a feeling that would come in handy real soon.
Nearly an hour into his dissection of the Scrivener, Jess and Ron came back, covered in dirt and twigs. Jess’s eyes were puffy from crying…Ron’s too actually.
Jeb’s cynical mind catalogued the glow in their cheeks, the smudges of dirt on their knees…then dismissed them.
Didn’t matter.
“If you guys are back for good, bring Amanda and Brett back, they went looking for you. I figured out a way to get out of here.”
“Really!?” Ron asked, eyes widening. “That’s unbelievable!”
“It is unbelievable.” Jess said, looking Jeb over. “Care to tell us how?”
“Treasure sphincter.” Jeb said.
Rons, jaw dropped, his eyes going glassy. “Could that work?”
“It’s gonna work,” Jeb said, projecting all the confidence he could. “Because that’s what we need it to do.”
Jess met his gaze for a moment, gears turning coldly behind her eyes.
“Fine. Ron, you stay here, I’m faster by myself.”
Ron nodded and sat down beside Jeb, oohing over the guts of the Scrivener.
“Ron, since I’ve got you here alone,” Jeb opened.
“Hey!” Casey and Smartass interjected simultaneously.
“Close enough.” Jeb shrugged before returning his gaze to Ron. “I’d suggest treading carefully with Jess.”
“What, umm…what are you talking about?” Ron asked, his cheeks reddening.
“You know what I’m talking about. Jess is a dangerous woman. Don’t piss her off without a good reason. She’s capable of cold-blooded murder, more than any of you.”
“What,” Ron said with a half chuckle. “Pfft. No, she’s just dealing with stuff. She’s totally nice once you -”
“-get in her pants.” Casey supplied.
Jeb shot Casey a grimace, and the teen looked suitably chastised.
“Look Ron, how do you think she got the Assassin class?” Jeb asked.
“…Defending herself?” Ron asked, unsure of his answer.
Jeb nodded. “Maybe that’s true. Maybe she had to kill someone in their sleep to avoid being brutalized. Regardless of how it went down, the fact remains that she’s capable of coldblooded murder. So treat her good and don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Jeb said, jabbing Ron in the chest.
“Okay,” Ron said, nodding vigorously.
God I hope he got the message, Jeb thought with a sigh. I could go for a smoke, and I don’t even smoke.
Not for nearly a decade now.
Not since he’d noticed he was trying to kill himself using cigarettes as the weapon, just before he’d been discharged.
Thinking about being discharged led his train of thought toward the reason, which inevitably ended with him glancing at the forest canopy above them, wondering when the spike was going to drop through it, crushing him.
The thought sent cold goosebumps up his arms, but Jeb was used to feeling like that. It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t an attack. Not in the strictest medical sense.
Jeb mentally gave the spike looming above him the finger, and attempted to steer his hijacked thoughts away from it.
What was up with that dream? He thought, unbidden, train derailed once again. I’ve had that dream where I’m the one under the beam for damn near eight years now, but I’ve never, Never, had someone talk to me during it. That was new.
Was it simply the dream mutating because his stressful circumstances were causing more activity in his prefrontal cortex, or was it something to do with the extra supernatural clarity derived from high Myst?
Jeb didn’t know how much he liked that last thought.
He traced the scar with his thumb while he stared into the dark forest.
I’m alive.
“We’re back!” Brett called out as they strode back into the clearing with everyone.
“Excellent,” Jeb said, standing and shoving his worries aside to focus on the right now.
“We’ve gotta find a safe place to camp, but in the meantime, Brett, do you still have that Body potion?” Jeb asked.
