Primer for the Apocalypse

I contemplated using Rewind to save the anti-alien guy for several minutes as I nursed the delicious carbonated fruit drink the golem had made for me. Brightberry soda was something I’d missed since returning to Earth and tasting it again made me miss the friends I’d left behind in the other timeline.

While a small part of me felt guilty for being part of the man’s near-certain death, the fact that he’d been willing to attack me because I associated with people from the Alliance stopped me from acting. I’d watched him gather mana. His eyes had been on me, not the golem.

While I understood his negativity toward the Alliance, it didn’t excuse it. It was just like everything else involving social groups – people, regardless of whether human, elf, dwarf, or some form of hybrid – were individuals. It wasn’t right to judge everyone based on the actions of a few.

Of course, hive minds were a different thing altogether. But as far as I knew, no races within the Alliance had that capability. I’d only learned it was a thing by seeing a newscast about the conflict between the Alliance and the Collective while traveling as an adventurer during the other timeline.

At first, I’d thought, “Holy shit! The Borg are real!” But then I realized the hive creatures were actually a species of evolved bug that the people of the Collective were controlling. It was probably a good thing they weren’t cyborgs, all things considered.

I was glad the rest of the challengers were too focused on the guy’s abrupt eviction from the dungeon to bother me much after that. They mostly left me alone as I ate, with only a few people approaching cautiously. I didn’t really feel like socializing or talking with anyone right away, but I forced myself to smile and chat with a few of them.

Thankfully, none seemed overly antagonistic.

A few of the individuals were willing to share information about the dungeon in exchange for information about the situation back home. I answered most of their questions with Lisa's assistance. The helpful Interface Assistant had recorded a ridiculous amount of data, so I ended up exchanging a lot more information than expected.

The most helpful was Yang Chao, a Chinese Smith with dual Fire/Lightning affinities. He’d been one of the early natives to naturally awaken and was abducted within days. Yang Chao had already been in the dungeon for more than five years – local time – and was nearing the peak of Tier Three.

I’d run the numbers (and advanced through the tier before), so I knew he’d either been constantly facing challenges with a team of four or five or had taken his time challenging things solo or with a partner. It was also possible he’d started slowly or started with a team and moved to fighting solo later.

However, I was basing a lot on assumptions from delving. Dungeon challenges might not be the same. It didn’t feel appropriate to ask for details about the man’s progression (or anyone else’s, for that matter), so I was stuck with my curiosity.

What wasn’t an assumption was the amount of experience required for each level. It jumped pretty significantly with each tier, but the average corresponding value of each kill at the same level only had a moderate increase in experience gained. Fighting up a tier gave a huge bonus.

Conversely, fighting lower tiers was almost pointless. Even fighting lower levels within the same tier gave diminishing returns, depending on the difference in levels. It was mostly common sense.

I learned several things during my conversations with Yang Chao and the others. For one, I learned that the village was located in the center of the floor, and the creatures got progressively stronger the farther away from the village one went.

I also learned that each of the first three floors had four bosses – one in each of the four cardinal directions. Each dominated their particular ‘zone,’ and the zones usually varied wildly. According to Yang Chao, each boss had a different elemental affinity, and their zones supported the type of magic they used, making the border between zones pretty obvious.

The bosses on the third floor were also the only creatures that were Tier Four, though they never exceeded level thirty-one. The pattern was consistent on the first two floors as well.

Defeating such a creature, even at level thirty, would be a difficult fight for most. That was likely why the majority waited to challenge a boss until they tiered up and were ready to ascend. Since the bosses protected the four exit portals, it was necessary to defeat at least one boss before leaving the floor.

Also, passing through a portal only sent someone to the central platform of the floor matching their current tier. So, defeating the boss early and entering the portal before tiering up wouldn’t accomplish much. You’d still be on the same floor until you slept to activate the advancement.

After learning about some of the various creatures on the floor, I finished the last of the delicious tavern stew and turned to the serving golem.

“Do you have a name?”

“You can call me Keeper since I am the Tavern and Innkeeper for this floor.”

“Thank you, Keeper,” I said with a smile. While I couldn’t be sure that Keeper was sapient, it seemed prudent to assume it was since it was better to err on the side of caution. “Are the rooms here protected from outside viewing?”

The golem nodded. “Yes. While the main areas are not protected, the privacy of guestrooms and baths are respected by the dungeon.”

“Excellent. I would like to rent a room for one night, please,” I said. Keeper went through the process of registering me before handing me a small card.

“Please inject your mana into the card and make a note of the room number listed,” the golem said, drawing my attention to the small ‘3-15’ that appeared on the card. I was glad that my last conversation partner had already departed. I didn’t want to worry about anyone knowing my room number.

Once my mana signature was recorded, the card disappeared back into the golem’s storage. “Your mana will be sufficient to access the room for the next fifty Alliance Standard Hours. Please make a note of your checkout time through your interface. If you are still present within the room after fifty hours, your account will be charged for an additional night.”

Having noticed the kiosk next to the stairs, I headed toward it, hoping to avoid any further unsolicited conversations. I wanted to send a few messages out while I was thinking about it, even if they wouldn’t actually be sent for days or weeks.

“There’s hardly anything worth buying on there,” the Healer from before said as I started the registration process for the dungeon kiosk. I immediately tensed but forced myself to relax.

“That’s fine,” I replied casually. “I really just wanted to send some messages out. I’m not sure how long it’ll be before the next batch is exchanged, and I’d rather not make my family wait an extra week to find out I’m okay.”

“I don’t think that sends messages,” she said uncertainly. “It’s mostly just a trade platform, and it hardly has anything since you can only buy things from this floor or lower floors. Most people just sell their loot to the dungeon golems.”

Susan tried to be casual as she looked over my shoulder to see what I was doing. I would have snapped at her if she hadn’t made it obvious the newest participants had no idea they could contact people outside the dungeon. It really was something they should have been informed of upon their arrival.

However, to be fair, the function only became feasible after the portals on Earth opened. Before then, the messages wouldn’t have been able to reach their recipients on Earth, even if they did have access to the system.

I was sure the Alliance had some way of communicating with people while there – probably through quick portal openings like what Sir Eri’Non did on his ship. Either way, I didn’t mind the woman learning how to contact her loved ones.

Once my registration was complete, I had Lisa form a connection. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to do this on every floor.

It turned out that the messaging function was something my upgraded interface had unlocked. Even after she’d seen how I did it, Susan hadn’t been able to access the feature. Once I told her about the interface upgrade, she left, presumably to share the information with whatever group she was a part of.

I was annoyed at how uninformed the people from Earth were. It wouldn’t have been that difficult to provide some kind of primer on how the dungeon worked. I was almost positive every other participant in Sir Eri’Non’s study had a much better understanding of what they were getting into than my fellow Earthborn did.

With a touch of spitefulness, I hoped that my actions would screw up whatever data the elf and his people were hoping to collect. Not that he was around to collect it anymore, but the point remained.

Once access to messaging was secured, I headed to my private room to record my messages. After considering the differences in price between text, audio, and video recordings, I decided to stick with audio recording.

Text was by far the cheapest, but it felt too impersonal for my first set of messages. Video was exorbitantly expensive and well beyond what I could afford while still on the third floor. Maybe once I reached the fifth floor, I’d be able to send a few video messages out, but it wouldn’t be something I did often.

The dungeon system informed me that messages would be sent in six days, meaning it would just be a little over a day on the outside before my messages were received. I’d probably have to wait another month after that to get my first set of replies, but that wasn’t too bad.

Once I got to the simple room I’d been assigned, I recorded two messages—one for my family and friends, and a separate message for Master Kairos. I sent the first message to Bell since she was the only one with an upgraded interface. I asked her to share it with a list of recipients. It was pretty basic, essentially just letting everyone know that I arrived and things were fine.

The message to Master Kairos was longer and included several questions that I hoped he had answers to. Most centered on the apparent broadcasting of challengers inside the dungeon anytime we were outside a private room or artificial structure.

Had the dungeon been private, I would have had no issue using a [Disguise] amulet to change how my robes looked to blend in or using Time magic to adapt my approach to others. But with constant watchers… I didn’t know if those were things that would reflect poorly on the sect or how those kinds of dynamics worked.

Could I use stealth and disguises when I was around other challengers? What about major Time magic? With my Time spells not impacting those watching outside the dungeon, the risk of displaying something potentially problematic for the sect seemed much too high.

I would have expected him to warn me if there was an issue, but it had been centuries since the last disciple from the Epikairos Sect challenged the dungeon. Perhaps broadcasting footage of the challengers within the dungeon was a new thing.

Regardless, I didn’t want to cause trouble for the sect or get myself targeted somehow, so I sent a detailed message explaining my situation and asking for guidance. Though I didn’t feel particularly connected to the sect, I did feel indebted to Master Kairos, and he represented the sect.

He’d put some effort into helping me feel like a real member of the sect, but it was hard when the only people I knew from the sect were Master Kairos and a few disciples who’d been acting as servants to the man.

I wondered what he expected out of me, especially if I was supposed to reach peak Tier Ten before leaving. How was I going to integrate into the sect at that point? Or would I, even? I couldn’t help but wonder if Master Kairos had something else in mind altogether.