Apocalypse: Regression

Nick's boots crunched over the detritus that littered the floor of the waste processing plant, his team filing out behind him with grim expressions etched onto their faces. The air was thick with the stench of waste from all the broken pipes and burning electronics from the monsters they finished killing. It was a nauseating reminder of the fierce battle they had just survived against the mechrophage monsters.

"Clear," he announced, his voice amplified by his suit's magic as his eyes swept the perimeter for residual threats.

The moment they stepped outside, two figures emerged from the shadows like wraiths, clad in the unmistakable black uniforms of the Dungeon Oversight Association.

“Aren’t you guys a little late?” Nick asked as he looked up and down at the two men’s attire. They had come unarmed, unprepared, and were just standing there waiting on Nick and his team.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Gallows. We arrived here as soon as we got the order,” replied the taller of the two men, who had a shaved head and a pair of jet-black sunglasses, which he slowly took off like he was in a 1980s action film.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Nick said, gesturing toward the waste management plant, “the dungeon outbreak that just occurred. The location was posted and announced way before the actual outbreak occurred, yet you’re only showing up now, after people have died and the problem has been resolved . . . by someone else.”

This caused the man’s eyebrow to twitch as he stared at Nick. “Mr. Gallows, my associate and I came as soon as we heard the order . . . to investigate how you were causing these outbreaks.”

Nick stiffened a little at the man’s phrasing. Rather than admitting that Nick had some knowledge of the future, it would be easier to say he was the cause and then lock him up. Then they wouldn’t have failed to prevent a tragedy; they would have only shown up late to a crime.

Maria went livid. “What are you even talking about, causing the outbreaks?! Not only didn’t we cause them, we’re out here stopping them, and you have the nerve to—”

“Could you please be quiet,” Nick interrupted, using his charisma magic to silence his companion. While he normally liked other people arguing for him, he knew this situation was too serious. In fact, there was one truth above all others that he had learned from being poor in his last life: every word you say can and will be used against you.

“It seems, at least, that your leader has some common sense,” the man said as he looked down on Maria. It was the type of stare that made Nick want to punch the man, but he held his temper.

“That’s more than can be said for you right now,” Nick replied, feeling a little frustrated with the DOA agents as he pulled out his phone, quickly typing a message and hitting enter as they stared at him, confused by his actions as they looked at his screen.

Their faces soured, and each of them frantically pulling out their phones, clearly having been able to see the social media site he had just posted on, “what… what are you doing?”

“Doing? I’ve already done what I wanted to,” Nick told them. “I came here in good faith to help the people of this city, but it seems no good deed goes unpunished.”

“You . . . You can’t post that!” the bald man’s companion exclaimed as he turned to his coworker, holding out his phone so that the other party could read the message too.

“‘We just stopped one dungeon outbreak on our own, without help or support from the DOA, but before we could go to the next two, the DOA already came to stop us. Now they’re making it clear that even if we post the next two outbreak locations, we’ll be accused of creating the outbreaks ourselves’ . . . Oh wow, Nick, that perfectly summarizes the situation,” Seo-ah said as she read the message out loud. “And look, there are already five hundred . . . no, five hundred and fifty comments. Oh! The post is trending on every social media platform, hold on, turn around.”

“What?” Nick asked, turning to face her as she backed up. As soon as he did, she snapped a picture of Nick with the two DOA agents in clear view behind him.

“There we go. I added a picture to your post. It’ll really help people put a face to the name when we say, ‘DOA,’ really let them know exactly who we mean. We’d hate for someone else to get the credit for the deeds of these hardworking men,” Seo-ah said with a mischievous grin.

“Actually, you know what really bothers me even more?” Nick opened his phone back up and began typing again. “It’s that people actually died because they didn’t take the issue seriously. I wonder how many will die in the next attack. I should make a post about that too.”

“Mr. Gallows! Please! There is no need to do that!” The bald man was now looking paler than American mayonnaise as he scrolled through his phone.

“What do you mean? Several people died here while you all just watched from a distance? I think the country should know how tax dollars are being spent Mr. . . . What was your name?” Nick asked the bald guy.

“Ah, I found it on the DOA website. He’s Michael Donavan,” Seo-ah announced. “Oh look, the tiny DOA-lite companion of his is Daniel Hitchcock.

“I’m 5’10!” Daniel objected.

“It’s okay, no one is upset you’re short,” Maria said. “I think short guys are great.”

“5’10 is taller than average though . . .” Michael defended his friend, the conversation quickly derailing.

“Right, so Michael and Daniel, I’ll make sure to name the agents properly in the post,” Nick muttered as he typed up the details, getting ready to hit enter.

“Hey, Nick, you’re nearing half a million views already! This is crazy! It’s almost like . . . Oh. I did. I did pay for an ad to make sure it gains traction,” Seo-ah admitted with a cheeky grin. “Really cheap too. Can you believe it only cost me two hundred and fifty bucks to get the first fifty thousand views? After that, it just took off on its own.”

“That is a good price. I wonder how many people would see the article if I spent a few grand to boost it. It’s not like I’m short on money . . .” Nick continued to make his veiled threats as the DOA agents' phones began to blow up, likely from what he imagined were their superiors calling them after the picture was posted.

“Mr. Gallows, this is . . . Those are threats, and this . . .” Michael started, clearly very distracted as he continued to look back and forth between Nick and the ringing phone in his hand.

“You should answer that. I bet it’s your boss,” Nick told him with an ear-to-ear grin, only for his own phone to start ringing.

“Ugh, unknown number. Could be spam, right? We should ignore it,” Seo-ah advised as the two looked at the number. Only, it wasn’t unknown. It was very clearly listed by the caller ID as the DOA.

“Yup, my mother answered a spam call once, and then there were a hundred spam calls after. I think they send you a single call to see if you’ll pick up, if the number is still active, and once they know it is, they treat you like fair game,” Maria explained as the group continued to watch the crumbling agents in front of them.

As much as Nick knew he shouldn’t play with a well-chewed meal, that he had things to do, there was just something so satisfying about being on the other end of this power gamble for once. However, his goal wasn’t to feel satisfied; it was to resolve things so he could get back through that rift.

“Yes, yes, boss. I’ll . . . Yes, boss,” Michael replied to his superior on the phone before quickly hanging up. “Please pick up your phone, Mr. Gallows.”

“Alright, I suppose I can do this one favor, but”—Nick paused as he answered the phone and then turned to Seo-ah—“what do you think about recording this entire conversation, just for posterity’s sake?”

“Oh, that sounds like a great idea. Let me do that,” Seo-ah agreed.

“Alright, hey, just so you know, Mr. Man on the other side of the phone, before we begin talking, I will be recording this conversation and, should I believe you’re acting in a malicious way, I will publish the contents of the conversation online. Are you okay with that?” Nick asked.

The man grumbled for a moment. It was clear he wanted to curse, but he finally, after taking a deep breath, answered, “Alright. I’m okay with that.”

“Great, then let’s begin,” Nick said. “What can I do for you?”

“What is it going to take for you to take down that post?” the man asked.

“I need you to commit to handling the next dungeon outbreaks. There are going to be two more in the next twelve or so hours, and then I expect one to three more every day after for half a month,” Nick told him.

“That’s . . . That’s insane! You can’t be serious! How are you causing so many to—”

“I’m not causing any of them to break,” Nick corrected him, quickly shutting that line of thinking down. He had watched the portal explode this time and knew that none of the cultists had blown this one up. There was no way to create a dungeon break like the one they’d just seen, a full nova of monsters dropped into the world. “Let me be clear, I am not responsible for any of this. I’m here because I know what will happen next, and I’m doing my best to help prevent the most deaths. You can either commit to assisting me, or I can publish the conversation where you refused to help protect the people of this city.”

The man gulped and then mumbled, “Fine.”

“What was that?” Nick asked, suddenly realizing he’d heard the man’s voice before, his brain scratching through the memories of his past life as he tried to place exactly where he’d heard it.

“Fine, I’ll help you out,” the man relented, Nick listening carefully to every single syllable as he tried to remember why the man sounded so familiar. “But can you take the post down now? Can you say we cooperated?”

“That’s great to hear you’re going to help with that point, but there is one more issue,” Nick said, his attention split between the conversation and his need to remember.

“What is it?” he replied.

“Well, you remember that horrible tragedy that happened last night?” Nick continued, but he was having trouble not being excited as he talked. He knew who the man was. He had finally been able to recall the old man’s name.

“Yeah, I remember,” Alexander Cane replied, the man that had become one of the hardest bastards to kill in his last lifeline.

“If I don’t get through that portal and stop the monsters on the other side, the scale of that tragedy will be a hundred times worse the next time. We’re talking country-wide destruction,” Nick explained.

“You— You can’t know that!” Alexander protested.

“I might not be able to . . .” Nick nodded to himself as he spoke. He understood where the man was coming from. “But my question for you is, given how I’ve been right on everything, are you really willing to take that bet, Alexander Cane?”

Nick knew full well the fact he knew Cane’s name would throw him off.

After a moment of silence, Alexander responded, “Anyone could have gotten my name. You’re rich. You probably know your competition perfectly well.”

“Sure, sure, anyone could have that file . . . but could they know you joined the military because you were in love with your brother’s girlfriend, and you didn’t want to spend your college years as a third wheel?” Nick asked, spilling one of the man’s biggest secrets. It was something past-life Alexander had told the remaining survivors in confidence over the last can of cooked beans they had found in the entire city. It was a sort of deathbed confession, as the next day, he and two others died defending the final human stronghold in a suicide mission.

Alexander didn’t say anything for a while, silence filling the air as he was likely trying to process what he’d just heard. Finally, after what felt like an hour but was really only a few minutes, Alexander gave in. “Okay. You can handle the new rift. I’ll cover it with my bosses. Just—”

“Don’t tell Anya?” Nick asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah. She doesn’t need to know that,” Alexander answered.

“You’re a good man,” Nick told him. “I’ll fix the social media postings. We’ll make you look good. Your boss will be pleased.”

“Thank you,” Alexander told him before hanging up.

It was at this point that Michael and Daniel just looked at him in horror.

“You . . . You don’t know anything about us, do you?” Daniel inquired shakily.

“Yeah,” Nick lied, grinning and deciding to mess with them a little as he added, “I even know how you’ll die.”

This caused the two of them to shudder before about-facing as they looked at their phones. It was clear the message had been sent—retreat—and they were then willing to abide.