Surviving the Simulation: The Grand Crusade

Xander took a seat on a cold patch of stone, ignoring the lingering adrenaline that still hummed in his limbs. Loot was nice, but the dungeon wasn't about to get easier just because they scored a win. Zoey tossed a ration pack to Ford, who caught it one-handed without looking; he was still fixated on that damn journal. The rest of the group followed suit, chewing in silence while the air around them stank of rust and old magic. Even the food tasted like it had expired in a simulation crash.

After a few minutes, the group packed up their gear and moved toward the train tunnel that stretched into the darkness ahead. There was a slight breeze, carrying with it the faint scent of rust and oil, as if the remnants of the old world still clung to these forgotten depths.

They walked along the tracks, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot mingling with the echos of dripping water. The lighting became more glitchy the further into the dungeon as they moved. The lack of maintenance in the deeper sections was apparent. Along the way, they encountered more minor patrols. Automatons of various designs, from clockwork spiders that skittered along the walls to clanking humanoid sentries that seemed to grind to life at the slightest noise.

While the strength of the patrols increased, the team dispatched these encounters with growing ease, falling into a rhythm of combat that made the machines seem almost predictable. But the deeper they ventured, the more the tunnel seemed to twist and warp, as if the very space around them was shifting in response to their presence.

Eventually, the tunnel widened into a large chamber, revealing what looked like an old station platform. The platform was eerily well-preserved, unlike the other areas they had gotten used to seeing, with benches lined up in neat rows and faded posters on the walls advertising long-forgotten destinations. A series of tracks converged here, leading to several tunnels that branched off in different directions, each disappearing into darkness.

In the center of the platform stood an ornate control panel, its surface covered with levers, dials, and buttons, all worn with age but still functional. One dial was a clock currently set at fifteen minutes to midnight. However, above the panel, suspended by thick chains, was a large clock face, its hands frozen at midnight.

As they stepped onto the platform, the surrounding air seemed to shift, and a soft, rhythmic ticking filled the chamber, like the heartbeat of the station itself.

"What do you think?" Zoey asked, eyeing the control panel warily.

The group gathered around the control panel, studying the various levers and dials. Three sections divided the panel, each corresponding to a different set of tracks. Above each section were small plaques labeled Past, Present, and Future. The clock overhead, frozen at 15 past twelve, appeared to be the key to the entire mechanism.

"The tracks must represent different timelines," Ford mused, tapping the plaque marked Past. "We need to align the tracks correctly, but we also have to set the clock to the right time to unlock the way forward."

Zoey ran her fingers over the controls. "It's like a conductor's board, but instead of directing trains, we're directing time."

"Great," muttered Jo, who had a knack for traps and puzzles. "Just what we needed. Time travel in a dungeon."

"Well, I don't think it's actual time travel, more a representation of the answer to the riddle," Ford responded.

Following several cautious tests, the group understood the switchboard's logic. The station wasn't just a hub; it was a decision point. Three labeled tracks, Past, Present, and Future, each led into their own tunnel, and from the look of things, only one could be unlocked.

The Past track was the most corroded of the three, its rails pitted with rust and littered with debris. The levers corresponding to it controlled what looked like magical stabilizers, and the dials gave off a faint hum when turned, adjusting the arcane flow along the damaged line. Ford theorized that their goal was to mimic what the track might have looked like in its prime, restoring an echo of how things used to be.

The Present path was rough but passable, its rails patched together like the rest of the dungeon they'd seen so far. The controls for this line responded more predictably and seemed to reflect the current magical state of the dungeon. A few trial-and-error attempts aligned the rail with a soft hum, like a puzzle acknowledging their grasp of the now.

The Future was pristine. Untouched. The rails shimmered faintly, almost resisting being fixed in place. The group could only guess how to configure it; there were no clear signs, only an unnerving sense that they were setting parameters for a timeline that hadn't happened yet. It felt more like betting than solving.

Each time they adjusted the controls, the massive clock above the platform shifted. Sometimes forward. Sometimes backward. The ticking grew louder the closer the hands crept toward midnight.

"This isn't just a puzzle," Ford said, squinting at the gears beneath the dials. "It's a choice. One track, one timeline."

"Do we know which one's right?" Wyatt asked, glancing toward the tunnel marked Future, which looked suspiciously clean.

"No idea," Ford admitted. "Could be all of them work. Could be none. We're not choosing a solution, we're choosing what kind of dungeon we want to deal with next."

"And if we guess wrong?" Zoey asked.

"I'm thinking this isn't a trap puzzle but more of a puzzle lock. I always used to hate these in various games that I used to play. Felt more like a time sink than an actual fun challenge. However, unlike what those kids we found earlier, we need to keep in mind this is real life, not some game," Xander replied. He hated to admit it, but he was getting bored and that was a recipe for disaster if something attacked them.

The group worked together, experimenting with the controls, and occasionally triggering small bursts of arcane energy that filled the room with a blinding light. Slowly but surely, they aligned the Past track. With a final click, the clock struck midnight. The room shuddered, and the tunnels rumbled, revealing the way forward. The control panel lit up with a soft, ethereal glow, and the tracks leading into the Past tunnel hummed with energy.

"Looks like we're on the right track," Zoey quipped.

"Ugh, that was worse than even Xander's normally lame jokes," Jo groaned.

"So, does that mean you pretend to love me as well?" Zoey responded, sticking her tongue out at Jo and laughing.

The air from the tunnel to the past was thick with the scent of rust and decay, a stark contrast to the preserved an atmosphere of the station. The group exchanged uneasy glances, the victorious thrill of solving the puzzle quickly fading as they realized the implications of their choice.

"The Past…" Ford muttered, more to himself than to the others. "If that's the timeline we've aligned with, it means this place is only going to get worse the deeper we go."

"Great," Wyatt said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So we've basically chosen the path where everything is falling apart?"

Zoey nodded grimly. "Seems like it. Whatever lies ahead is going to be even worse maintained than the rest of this dungeon."

"Well, I'd counter that logic by saying that these tracks represent the state of the dungeon currently. Maybe depending on its state of repair, the bosses and layout change entirely. We've seen a steady decline in the state of repair the further we've gone," Xander said after thing the logic through for a moment.

"We've seen dungeons link up with things from the past pre-simulation crash. Remember that dungeon back in Sidney? What if that is what Past is referring to?" Xander continued.

"Yeah, that's right. It was dungeon, but it also had some sort of pre-crash control room or something," Zoey confirmed.

Winding down the conversation, the team took a last glance at the station behind them before stepping through the tunnel and into the darkness below. Rust covered the tracks, and dampness and grime streaked the tunnel walls. The sound of dripping water echoed off the walls, each drop seeming to grow louder as they moved further into the dungeon's forgotten depths.

As they reached a bend in the tunnel, they found a sudden shift in the conditions. Warped and twisted tracks littered the area, with entire sections missing or buried under rubble piles. The walls were now cracked and crumbling, with vines and roots snaking through the gaps as if nature itself had reclaimed the space.

The flickering lights revealed evidence of a battle that had taken place. A patrol of automatons lay scattered across the tunnel, their metal bodies twisted and broken. Something had ripped one apart, scattering its parts. Deep claw marks scored the walls and the remains of the machines, but the source of the attack was nowhere to be seen.

Xander crouched beside the shattered automaton, the metal still faintly warm beneath his gloved fingers. The claw marks scored deep into the chest plate weren't the clean slices of blades or the precision tears of other machines. Something organic, he thought as he noticed bits of flesh and bone under the automation's finger joints.

"Not mechanical," he said. "Something with claws. Something with flesh and bone."

"So, a giant bear with anger issues?" Zoey offered, eyeing the torn flesh like it might crawl off the floor. "Because I think I liked the robots better."

Jo gave the corpse a once-over, her nose wrinkling as she spotted a piece of fabric clinging to one of the automation's weapons. It was an old patch of uniform, half-seared, half-rotted. "Pretty sure whatever this was didn't come from the dungeon's original roster."

Xander nodded. The idea was worse than the damage. This thing hadn't just attacked a patrol, it had overpowered one. Either this dungeon held a yet-unrevealed narrative twist, or something had altered the dungeon's theme.

"We keep moving," he said, standing up. "Whatever did this might still be nearby."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The group pressed on, moving with a heightened sense of urgency. The tunnel continued to deteriorate as they advanced, with sections of the ceiling having collapsed, forcing them to climb over debris or squeeze through narrow gaps. Occasionally, they would come across the remnants of old traps, their mechanisms rusted and corroded beyond functionality. In one spot, they found a pressure plate someone had already triggered; the surrounding floor was cracked open, revealing a pit filled with sharpened spikes. A set of tattered, ancient bones lay at the bottom, evidence of a victim long forgotten.

"Those bones look really old. Whomever that is, they've been down here a long time. Hate to say it, but I'm buying into the idea that there is some pre simulation crash hold over here," Jo said, looking down into the pit.

The stress of the situation was piling up. The disrepair of the dungeon reflecting a world in decline, where time had worn away both magic and machinery. A faint, sporadic hum of arcane energy, like a dying heartbeat, echoed through the hollowed halls, a far cry from its once-ominous sound.

The tunnel opened without warning, the walls peeling back into a wide, circular chamber that swallowed the light from behind them. Xander stepped through first, his boots crunching on old gravel and rusted metal. The group followed in silence, the air growing heavier with each step. Up above, the cracked dome roof let in weak shafts of slickly green light filtering through dust that hung like spores in still water. The source of the light wasn't natural, and that alone set his nerves on edge.

It was a roundhouse. Or what remained of one. Train tracks spiraled out from a central turntable like ribs from a spine, their ends vanishing into collapsed tunnels or blocked exits. Most of the trains here had long since died. Twisted skeletons of steel and rotted timber, some crushed by debris, others abandoned mid-repair. What little machinery remained looked brittle, eaten through by time and neglect.

Then came the sound. A slow, deliberate scrape of claw against stone. It echoed from the far end of the room, near one of the larger, mostly intact trains. The shadow there shifted. Something was watching them. And it had not been alone in this place.

"This is it," Ford whispered. "The next boss…"

The creature in the shadows emerged, revealing the outline of a foreboding figure, its eyes glowing with an unnatural light. The disrepair of the dungeon had culminated here, in this ancient, roundhouse. It was unclear if this guardian was the cause or the effect. And then, with a roar that shook the very foundations of the roundhouse, the creature lunged into the light.

[Analyze] The Phantom Brakeman | Level: 14 Boss (Special) | Status: Hostile | Class: Special
Warning! This world event has temporarily substituted this boss for the normal boss of this encounter.

The Phantom Brakeman loomed before the party, his ghostly form flickering in and out of sight as the dim, sickly light from the cracked ceiling barely illuminated the roundhouse. An eerie green glow from his lantern bathed the group, casting twisted shadows across the rusted turntable and the wreckage of ancient trains. The air was thick with the scent of decay and a sense of encroaching dread, the atmosphere palpable with the malice of something far more sinister than what should have inhabited this dungeon.

"Your journey ends in darkness," the Brakeman hissed, his voice a distorted whisper that echoed through the cavernous room.

Wyatt stepped forward, sword and shield at the ready.. "Stay sharp, everyone."

"Special dungeon boss... working for whatever this general is?" Zoey said, shaking her head. "This world event is really getting serious."

"Conversation for another time. Lock it up!" Xander called. It was time for game faces. Later, they would worry about the implications of this boss being in the dungeon and tied to the world event.

The Brakeman's lantern flared suddenly, and with a chilling wail, chains of spectral energy shot out from the ground, latching onto Wyatt and Jo. The chains rattled and tightened, pulling them down, binding them to the spot.

"They forged these chains for eternity," the Brakeman intoned, his voice resonating with a finality that sent a shiver down Xander's spine.

"Not today, they're not!" Xander shouted, charging forward with his spear. He brought the weapon down in a powerful thrust aimed at the Brakeman's chest.

But the Brakeman moved with uncanny speed, his ethereal hand shooting out to catch the spear's shaft just inches from his body. For a moment, the two stood locked in a battle of strength, the Brakeman's ghostly form pulsating with dark energy as he pushed Xander back.

Before the Brakeman could overpower him, Xander shifted his grip and, in a fluid motion, released the spear with one hand and threw a right cross punch directly at the Brakeman's face. The impact was solid, and to Xander's surprise, the ghostly visage gave way slightly, causing the Brakeman to stumble back, releasing the spear as he dropped to one knee.

Wyatt broke free of the spectral chains, his shield arm surging with strength as he tore the binding away. "Kick his ass, Xander! Jo, cover me!" he barked as he charged at the Brakeman.

Jo, now free from her own chains, darted in beside Wyatt, her sword flashing as she swiped at the Brakeman, forcing him to focus on the two attackers. She moved with precision, each swing aimed at exploiting the openings in the Brakeman's defense that Wyatt's attacks created.

But the Brakeman was not so easily cornered. His lantern flared once more, filling the roundhouse with a thick, shadowy fog. "The fog shall swallow you whole," he rasped, the darkness consuming the room.

"Stay close!" Ford shouted, his voice tense as he cast an ability. The spell triggered moments later, summoning a faint golden light to push back the encroaching fog. But even his holy magic struggled to pierce the unnatural gloom.

Zoey, relying on her instincts, fired arrow after arrow into the shadows, each shot infused with ice that shattered on impact, briefly illuminating parts of the battlefield. "I can't see a damn thing!" she growled, trying to focus on where the Brakeman might be.

"How about you not shoot the rest of us!?" Xander called out, his voice cracking with concern. "I think I felt the air zipping past me on one of those!"

Suddenly, the Brakeman reappeared, phasing out of the fog directly in front of Xander. The Brakeman's hand shot out, grasping Xander's spear again. But this time, Xander was ready. As the Brakeman held the spear, Xander delivered a brutal knee strike directly to the Brakeman's groin. The force of the blow drove the Brakeman back, causing him to cough out a misty, ethereal breath as he crumpled momentarily to the ground.

"The final stop… is oblivion," the Brakeman hissed, rising to his feet, his lantern flickering wildly as he summoned more of the spectral chains to lash out at the party.

"Not if we have anything to say about it!" Wyatt roared, smashing his shield into the chains and shattering them with sheer force. "Xander, Jo, keep hitting him! Zoey, Ford, focus your fire on that lantern!"

Ford nodded, raising his mace, as he launched a bolt of holy light at the lantern. Zoey followed up with a perfectly timed shot, her arrow infused with frost magic striking true and causing the lantern to crack and dim slightly.

The Brakeman howled in fury, his form becoming more unstable as the light in his lantern wavered. "No one escapes the endless night," he growled, his voice full of contempt as he raised the lantern high, preparing to unleash a final, devastating attack.

But the party was ready. With Wyatt tanking the Brakeman's wild, frenzied blows, Xander and Jo launched a coordinated assault, slashing and stabbing at the Brakeman from both sides while Ford and Zoey continued their assault on the Brakeman's lantern.

"Keep pushing!" Wyatt yelled, blocking a heavy swing from the Brakeman's spectral arm and countering with a powerful slash to its midsection.

The Brakeman staggered, his lantern now barely flickering, the green light almost extinguished. He stumbled back, his form beginning to dissolve into the shadows from which he came.

"The general... will wipe the living from this land," the Brakeman rasped, his voice full of bitterness and prophecy. "You cannot stop the inevitable..."

But before he could say more, Zoey fired one last arrow aimed at the center of the lantern. The arrow drilling into the lantern, and with a final, echoing wail, the Phantom Brakeman shattered into a thousand fragments of shadow, dissipating into the darkness. They stood there for a moment, weapons still raised, as the remnants of the Brakeman's presence faded away.

Midwest Regional Announcement: Someone has slain the Phantom Brakeman, Commander of the Undead Legion!

With the fall of this fearsome specter, the grip of the undead on the surrounding lands has weakened. The ethereal chains binding their forces are unraveling, causing their power to wane. Adventurers in the area will now face reduced undead presence and diminished hostility as the influence of the Undead Legion crumbles.

Seize this opportunity to press the attack before the darkness regathers its strength!

Xander lowered his spear, glancing at the others. "That wasn't the fight we were expecting, but we handled it. If this dungeon's been overrun by the general's forces, there's no telling what else we'll find."

Wyatt retrieved his shield from where he had dropped it in the last moments of the battle, wiping sweat from his brow. "I'll be ready. That was just the warm-up."

Ford sighed as he looked around the room. "Let's hope we don't find something worse waiting for us down the line."

"Ugh, leave the bad train puns to Zoey," Jo quipped, "The world event appears to be escalating and quickly. First those undead back in Seymour that mentioned this general and now this asshole."

"Certainly feels like things are coming to a head. The undead have just been a nuisance, now they're becoming an active offensive threat." Jo continued.

"Reduced undead presence in the area alone made this run useful. Is it odd that the AI is calling this the Midwest, though?" Ford added.

"They are AI and they've shown the ability to add language and what we consider being modern terms to the messages already. So not much of a stretch to think they wouldn't use known references to geological locations," Xander theorized.

"How about you explain to the Alaskan here exactly what the Midwest is?" Zoey replied.

"It's generally accepted that the Midwest includes the areas of the United States encompassing Illinois, Ohio, Indiana, Missouri, Iowa, Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. Now, let's hope that the reduced undead presence applies to the rest of this dungeon." Xander replied, slipping into his project management voice.

Zoey nocked another arrow, scanning the room for any lingering dangers. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

"Let's see what we've earned," Wyatt said, his voice carrying a hint of weary satisfaction.

Jo stepped forward, eyes landing on the area where the Brakeman had fallen. A soft, greenish glow emanated from a small pile of coins and items, flickering like the last remnants of the lantern's light. She approached cautiously, her sword still in hand, just in case there were any lingering traps or surprises.

Amidst the scattered coins, two items stood out.

The first was a necklace, still shimmering with an otherworldly light. The links seemed to tremble slightly, as if eager to bind and drain the will of those who opposed its bearer. Additionally, a Conductor's Badge rested among the spoils, its polished black surface reflecting an arcane shimmer.

Jo tossed both items to Xander for him to store in his inventory. Taking a moment before dropping them into his pouch, he inspected both items.

Badge of the Shadow Rail
Quality: Uncommon
Enchantments: Shadow Blend
Description: A relic of a forgotten era, forged in secrecy by an enigmatic guild known only as the Night Conductors. This dark, nearly black emblem is a masterpiece of stealth craftsmanship, its surface smooth and cold to the touch, absorbing light like a void. The badge's central design features a ghostly train, barely visible unless caught in just the right light, as if it's always on the verge of disappearing into the shadows. The Badge of the Shadow Rail will impart a +5 to stealth while in low light conditions.

Chain of the Iron Aegis
Quality: Uncommon
Enchantments: Bastion Instinct, Aegis Anchor
Description: A heavy iron chain threaded with steel filaments, once worn by The Spectral Breakman. While worn, the user gains +1 Constitution and reduces incoming damage by 5% if they remain stationary for 2 seconds. Once per day, the wearer can activate the Aegis Anchor, reducing physical damage by 30% and resisting crowd control effects for 10 seconds. Built not to avoid the blow, but to survive it.

Xander, had to admit that he was less than impress with the quality of the loot considering that the Spectral Breakman was one of the world event bosses. Still, he gathered the scattered gold coins and a few small gems that had appeared with the loot, tucking them away for later. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with the loot.

"Not that I'm ungrateful, but for a world event boss, I was expecting something with a little more... teeth."

"Speak for yourself. If it sparkles or stacks, it's going in my bag and you can fight the next boss bare-handed." Zoey responded with a laugh.

With their newly gained items stowed, the group turned their attention to the roundhouse itself. Only one tunnel remained unobstructed, its dark entrance gaping like the maw of some ancient beast. Warped and uneven tracks led into the tunnel. Rust and decay, heavy with the weight of ancient, forgotten horrors, thickened the air.

"Well, it seems we have little choice," Zoey said.

"No, we don't," Xander agreed, hefting his spear. "But that's never stopped us before. What was that Rex always used to say? Embrace the suck!"