NOVEL NEXT Chapter 33: Immigration Agency
Most big cities have at least one dungeon, ruin or arena and nobody but the Koreans really expected the dungeon breaks. My people, being true nerds and the originators of dungeon-based modern fantasy fiction, had this shit on lock down. They're already turning dungeons into money making opportunities.
The military and police are doing a pretty good job, for the most part, of putting down the dungeon breaks. We all, across the world, learned that a dungeon breaks for a number of hours equal to its floors. This also let humanity figure out how big each dungeon is, by timing the dungeon breaks.
As many expected, the Pentagon and the Kremlin are both the biggest dungeons at 100 floors each. And thus, we basically confirmed that dungeons were made from places that people had resentment towards. How big and powerful a dungeon became was proportional to that resentment.
A lot of places are getting really, really fucked up by monsters. Basically any place that doesn't have a strong on-hand military or militarized police force. Iceland was almost annihilated.
And of course the dungeons themselves are impossible to destroy from the outside. People tried. They used super powerful bombs. Nothing. It's as if the dungeons themselves are slightly out of tune with our dimension. At least that's what the current theory is.
Ruins and Arenas haven't had anything weird happen to them yet, but those are weird to begin with.
Ruins are typically culturally important areas that people felt deserved to be protected. The Eiffel Tower, the Lincoln Memorial, the Grand Canyon. All now ruins. The problems with ruins are two fold.
The first problem is that when a place became a ruin it distorted the land around it, often taking on aspects of the ruin core. The area around the Eiffel Tower is now dotted with metal spikes. A lot of more popular, well known ruins also grew, taking up to 1000% more space. The Grand Canyon now stretches across the north half of Arizona. Of course, these changes brought calamity to millions of people around the world.
The second and even more deadly feature of a ruin is that each is guarded by monsters. These monsters are usually all of one type at least, like the Lincoln Monument being guarded by marble golems. Although, since most ruins are open air, a good old rifle and scope can take out these foes at safe distances. The monsters come back every 24 hours and, oh, they're not trapped in the ruins like dungeon monsters are. Now roving bands of lizardmen wander Arizona, and the Grand Canyon keeps spewing them out no matter how many are killed.
There are only a handful of arenas around the world. They're like dungeons in that they're warped structures, but instead of being converted by human contempt or reverence, they're seemingly converted by... Sports? Most of the arenas are sports stadiums. The Roman Colosseum is the big one, now a staggering 1500 feet tall. When people enter an arena they get to wager their levels and fight monsters appropriate to how many levels they wager. You don't gain any levels from these fights, but the loot seems to be really good. Though about half the people who enter arenas die, soooo I don't know if it's worth it.
I'm finalizing documents to buy my new house when I get the call for the next mission.
Over the phone Davis says, “the Ellis Island historical society would like you to see if you can clear its ruins.”
“Ellis Island?” I ask, casually sliding the check for several hundred thousand dollars across the table to the realtor.
“The former immigration point in New York City. It was turned into a ruin. Nobody's actually been able to clear a ruin and turn it back yet so this is an experiment. We have a few ideas but need you to test them.”
“So we'd get to go to New York City?” I ask, more excited about a potential vacation than the mission. I sit back in the overly plush chairs of the realtor’s conference room.
Davis sighs. “We'll fly you out and if you stay after the mission that's your call.”
“Hell yeah, I'm bringing my girlfriend.”
“She's not going to be a part of the mission is she?”
I sign paperwork. It's a lot of paperwork. “Sure is. We've been practicing the last few days.”
“I don't want to know what you're practicing with that girl.”
“Not that. Well, yes, that. But she got a class and has some items and stuff. She'll be like Gwen. Not really a fighter yet but could be if she gets levels and combat experience.” I have a lot more papers to sign.
“Whatever. If she dies it's your fault.”
I finally finish signing and they slide me keys. “Nope, not gonna die. She's got a magic costume.”
It's two days later and my team is aboard a ferry to Ellis Island. The big boat usually carries hundreds of tourists. This time it's just six. The team this time is me, Jose Amarillo, Odysseus Grant, Madeline Diaz, Gwen L'Ronge and Mercy Mahar. Most of us are back in our military clothes and armor. All of us except Mercy.
Mercy's costume is white and lime green. She has a cloak that's white on the outside and lime green on the inside. When she moves in it the colors in motion are incredible. She also has an open white coat over a lime green shirt. A big, witch-type hat droops slightly around back, and is similarly white with green interior/underside. She also wears dark grey mid thigh shorts. The character in the web novel wears pants but Mercy says the outfit is too hot with pants, thus shorts. I, being a lover of thick thighs and tight shorts gripping said thighs, am not complaining.
To go with the outfit is a staff that is usually just a thin, dark grey stick. With the costume contest medals applied it becomes a spear, the spear tip made of glowing, lime green magic. Altogether, she looks way more dressed for magical fighting than I do in my camo armor.
Mercy gains six powers when she's wearing her “White Hat Warlock” costume and the 1st, 2nd and 3rd place costume contest medals I got from the Halloween department. The character is from a web novel of the same name. The title character comes into contact with a sexy Internet Elemental and forms a saucy bond with her and he (the warlock) gains data and interwebs based magic spells. So that's what Mercy has access to. The important power is System Shell, which protects her from harm like a sci-fi or video game shield. It takes damage for her until it is destroyed, then recharges later.
Each of us is now wearing at least one enchanted ring, from the pile of them that dropped from the Get! dungeon boss. Each gives just a couple points to one stat or another, but if you can put on a ring and suddenly be faster, you put on the damn ring.
The choppy seas and dark grey waters of the Upper Bay are less than welcoming. The overcast skies promise a full on deluge. We look out at the formerly U-shaped island which is now more of an UHH. Ellis's main building is an old, brick, three-story rectangle. The old docks were long gone and only the newer concrete pier was on the shore. The new, post Dracosys facility has rows of dilapidated wooden piers mixed with crumbling brick walls and piles of refuse. The main facility is still intact, or at least it looks that way from the outside.
“Gwen,” I say, gathering the team. “Pretend I have memory loss and give us the briefing again.”
She rolls her eyes but complies. “Ze museum facility comprised but half of the full island. We must explore both ze newly renovated museum and ze older, unsafe, original Ellis Island property.”
“What are we looking for?” I ask the group.
Mercy cheerfully chimes in. “Anything weird!”
“Right,” I say. “More specifically we're hoping to find a ruin core. It might be a glowing orb like a dungeon core, or it might be a historically important object, like Gwen has theorized.”
Gwen continues. “Ze other possibilities are some sort of key location or control system. We honestly have no idea. We know ze dungeons have cores behind their boss rooms. We know each castle has a special stone dais with stone controls. So ze ruins may have either one of those, or something entirely different.”
I nod. “Hostiles, Diaz?”
“Zombies, sir.” Diaz says flatly. She's prepping her morphing cube weapon.
“Right, but, details?” I ask, more insistently this time.
Diaz elaborates. “Zombies. Classic slow ones. Non-viral unless you get killed by one. So you can get bit and it's fine, probably. They're not any tougher than regular people.” She pulls the ballistic shield off her back and puts the morphing weapon into axe mode. “Shouldn't be a problem as long as we clear each area and don't get surrounded.”
“Right. Anyone else have anything?” I ask.
“Yes,” comes Grant's cyber voice. “Where's Henry?”
“Our future president is at his brother's wedding,” I say. “Nothing medical, sinister or sad. Just a scheduling conflict.” Grant nods.
“Where's Biscuits J. Cannonball Jr?” asks Mercy. She knows that I don't want the cat on missions so I left her at home. I just glare at her.
We close in on the facility and drop a navy Zodiac inflatable boat in the water for the last quarter mile. We each climb down into it and Jose starts the outboard engine. It putters to life and off we go to the east side of a zombie infested island.
-----
Before we land the boat Jose tries to snipe some deadites from a distance but the rocking of the boat proves to be the only thing that can defeat his aim. He still kills 3, though.
We pull up to the easternmost pier and use guns to kill the eight or so zombies here. We climb up and I get a good look at them. Each one is dressed differently, like they're from different eras. I scan a few.
Zombie, 1890s edition. Tier 1. When this guy was alive it was illegal for women to wear pants. Can you believe that shit?
Possible loot: Pants.
Zombie, 1920s edition. Tier 1. When this lady was around, prohibition was all the rage. Literally. Bible thumpers raged and destroyed bars back in the day. Can you believe that shit?
Possible Loot: Bathtub gin.
Zombie, 1950s edition. Tier 1. The 50s were great for everyone. Except for all the people who weren't white. Can you believe that shit?
Possible loot: A copy of To Kill A Mockingbird.
So at some point I upgraded my system scan to over 200% proficiency and now I get to see the “tiers” of my enemies. I'm pretty sure those correspond to our class “steps,” but I'm not 100% on that yet. I know tier 1 is about as weak as a human.
The wooden pier creaks beneath our feet. I see a small party of zombos hear it and start shambling in our direction. “Diaz, up front. Gwen, Mercy, you're up. Kill as many as you can and get those level ups.” Mercy is still level 1 and Gwen was way behind the others in terms of levels after the Get!. I want them both to grow stronger.
I watch Mercy carefully. She's got three offensive abilities in the White Hat outfit. She first uses a power that looks like a ribbon of green data that flies out from her hand and cuts along its edge. The long stream of 1s and 0s curves and bends as Mercy directs it, cutting into the neck of an undead. This ability, Data Stream, can be sustained and continued as long as she wants, so she whips the strand back around to slice the zombie neck the other way, and the head just pops right off in a spout of dark red, sludgy blood.
The front edge of the Stream comes back into Mercy's hand and disappears. That trick gets her back use of the ability right away. If it gets broken or she just ends it, she has to wait a whole minute before using it again. All of the outfit abilities work on a cool down system rather than using Arcana, Ki, Faith or Spirit points, which is going to be really useful once Mercy has better spells too.
Gwen scoffs at the ability and fires four rounds from her Anschütz model 1827F Fortner. Each bullet finds a home in a zombie brain and the four drop dead. Dead-er. Mercy whips her arm back and then forward like she's casting a fishing line. The Data Stream slashes down from above into a line of zombies, cutting them apart. Gwen ups the ante by using some tarot card spell to make lightning strike from the sky and kill three zombies at once. Mercy flicks the Data Stream in a circle around a group of four zombies and then pulls the Stream, cinching it tight and cutting the zombies into chuncks.
Jose and I and Grant all look at each other with slightly concerned expressions. My look says “should we stop this?” Jose's glance says “nah, bro this isn't something we should get between.” Grant's glance says, “what if we just let them do all the work?” Diaz buts in with an eye roll that states, “you guys suck,” and she charges forward with her axe held high.
The three women slash, chop and shoot their way forward, mowing down hundreds of zombies as they go. By the time we get to the front door of the Ellis Island museum the score is Gwen: 107, Mercy: 99 and Diaz: 123. Diaz played a great game and had a huge surge at the end. We three guys cheered for the victory as we cleaned up the loot behind the girls.
The coinage loot in this area is old New York subway tokens. I have time to check pricing with my cell, and these apparently go for anywhere from 4 to 15 bucks, depending on style and condition. With each zombie dropping 1 to 5 of them, we're doing pretty well today. This'll definitely pay for the condo I rented for the group.
After comparing scores and coins, we turn to the foreboding front doors of the museum. The grey sky overhead crackles with thunder and a light rain begins to fall. I look at the door and find something amiss.
“I know it's supposed to be a big front entrance, but does it look too big?”
“Yup,” confirms Diaz.
Jose walks up to the door and we see the problem. The door handle is just above his head, and is about twice as large as it should be. “I feel like a little kid,” he says, trying to reach up and turn the handle.
“Zat is precisely right,” says Gwen with a snap of her fingers. “Millions of children came through Ellis Island, and now ze ruins version is treating us to ze same experience.”
Grant types furiously, “does that mean giant enemies?”
“Yup,” confirms Diaz.
Jose turns the handle and, as soon as he does, the door bursts open from inside and a twelve foot tall zombie stumbles out. We open fire on it but its size lets it take a tremendous amount of damage. After about thirty seconds of gunfire it falls.
“Shit,” says Jose, picking up the fragmented skull. He shows it to us as the rain picks up. The bone is two inches thick. No wonder it held up to our weapons.
The rain starts in earnest now and we have no choice. “Alright,” I say, falling back into combat mode. “We keep together, focus your fire and take them down one at a time!”
We stride into the building and see about 30 massive zombies, which all turn to face us at once. Well shit.
We erupt into action. Gwen, Jose and Odysseus open fire on the closest one, which looks like a dead chef. Mercy begins to charge her big spell attack and green data swirls between her hands. Diaz braces in front of us to intercept the first one to attack us. Four knives (my new Telekinesis limit) fly up and I begin to charge spells through them.
The gunners drop chef zombie as a welder zombie closes in on our group. Diaz intercepts and delivers a mighty horizontal chop to its right leg, cleaving it off. The zombie falls forward, arms extended to claw at us but Diaz uses her ballistic shield to shoulder charge the falling corpse. It swings backwards on its one leg and topples.
The inside of the Ellis Island Museum is rather lovely. It's almost entirely dark, polished hardwood. There are bronze statues mixed with plexiglass displays and placards with lots of information about the history of the island and immigration in general.
The zombie topples back onto a bronze statue of a worker holding up a wrench. The wrench punches through the zombie's chest, trapping it there. My spells have finished charging and my knives glow with yellow electric energy. One by one I direct each knife to fly into a different zombie and on contact the spell releases.
Forked Bolt
Touch a foe to shock them, and up to two additional nearby targets will suffer the same fate.
Range: Touch, 30 feet
Cost: 15 Arcana Points
Proficiency: 5%
When a knife hits a zombie two yellow bolts swirl through it then each bolt jumps to a nearby zombie. Since I took the time to charge each spell, these bolts deal extra damage. Every point where the bolt passes through the undead leaves behind charred flesh and bone. My four Forked Bolts end up killing 9 of their 12 targets, which is more than I expected. The three that survive are stunned for a few seconds.
I feel the pain of Chimerablood’s effect kick in as my electric spells pull me just below zero AP. Yellow claws snap around my fingertips and jagged yellow blades rip out of the back of my forearms. I feel electricity course through my body delivering both pain and kinetic energy. I feel amped.
I pull my knives back to me. I grasp each one and it becomes charged with electricity, a yellow bolt surging up and down each blade. Then I send them out in formation to slash at a stunned zombie's neck. They hack and zap the creature and after a few seconds, the head comes apart and the monster falls with a massive WHOMP.
Mercy's big attack, System Crash, has finished charging and she unleashes it on the group of ten giant zombies on the far side of the room. She holds her hand in front of her, arm aimed slightly up and a basketball-sized green orb arcs across the room. When it makes contact with the floor dozens of Data Streams burst out and wrap around the nearby zombies. They're first restrained by the cords of green data. Then the cords retract and pull all of the zombies together, crushing them mercilessly. Their bodies are smashed together until we hear the snapping of bones and old blood gushes from that side of the room. The whole thing takes about five seconds.
After that the gunners clean up three zombies who try to close in on us and I take out some at mid range. Diaz hangs back with us, even though she's mostly on standby at this point. After another two minutes we've cleared the room.
We all make sure the room is clear by spreading out, but the only thing we hear is the deluge of rain coming down. A nearby crack of lightning illuminates the room through the windows. I call the team together.
“Injuries?” I glance around. Diaz shakes her head. Everyone is fine. “Ammo checks.” We all check ammo. The three primary gun users, Jose, Odysseus and Gwen, all have bags full of ammo in their inventories. They take the time to refresh their current clips and what's on their persons, then stow the rest back in inventory. Seriously, the inventory system is incredible.
“Levels?” I ask, hopeful. Everyone gives their numbers. Odysseus gained 1 Level in Cleric. Mercy gained 4 in Witch. Diaz got three levels, ending Knight at 10 and getting her the upgraded class Cavalier at level 2. Jose and I both gained just one level and Gwen got nothing.
Gwen enters the numbers into her laptop. “Interesting but not entirely unexpected. These gains are roughly half of what people got for similar fights last week. Ze Dracosys may be tapering off level gains as humanity adjusts to ze new world.”
“So, what,” I ask. “We'll just gain less and less as the weeks go by, until we can't get stronger at all?”
“No, no,” clarifies Gwen. “I said roughly half, not entirely half. About 55% of last week's gains. This implies a curve zat should level off around 1/3rd of ze original leveling speed.”
“Uh, great,” I say. I'm actually smart enough now to follow her math. I think she's making some logical leaps that I don't understand and frankly, don't have time to get into.
Mercy asks, “where should we start looking around for the thingy?”
I wipe the blood off the nearby museum diagram. There are three floors in this building, plus access to the old facility that hasn't been restored yet. I point at the map. “Apparently it's dangerous to go into these unrestored areas. So almost certainly there.”
I turn to the roped off area. Beyond the velvet ropes are broken brick stairs leading down one floor into a pitch black hallway.
“Yup, that's probably it,” Diaz says, and raises her shield to march forward, into the dark.
-----
Dossier WY-5050, Waldorf Hillington
When the Dracosys initiated, Hillington estate in Northern England had the unfortunate fate of becoming a ruin. The manor grew 4 times its original size and the hedge maze outside grew five fold. The whole estate began to be inhabited by guerilla ducks. These were humans sized ducks that used pistols and knives and even dynamite to attack anyone around the estate. Of course Waldorf was no exception.
Waldorf Hillington has quite a reputation as a big game hunter. Even though he is in his 60s, he relished the chance to hunt large, dangerous game in his own backyard. He struck back at the estate's would-be defenders and killed ducks by the dozens.
While not originally considered a threat to anyone, Waldorf has, since the Dracosys, become increasingly erratic and prone to outbursts of violence towards his remaining servants. His powers as a Dead Eye allow him to fire tremendously powerful shots with extreme accuracy. For someone with no military training he seems to have top class sniping capabilities.
Waldorf Hillington
Alias: Wally
Age: 61
Height: 6 foot 0 inches
Build: slim
Skin: white
Hair: short, white. Handlebar mustache.
Tatoo: none
Wears a gold wedding band.
Wears double breasted business suits with an ascot.
Class: Dead Eye