World Boss: Break the Narrative

The next floor was another maze of electrical stuff. It was definitely electrical stuff. I could tell, but the arcing lines of power between things… electrodes? It was clear I was supposed to be doing something involving switches in podiums connected to the… electric stuff.

Okay, I am not describing this well, but two things. One, all of this shit was random background equipment in one of those Frankenstein films. They clearly didn't do anything beyond looking menacing and throughout dangerous electricity. The second thing is I destroyed them immediately after I crafted a blast wall to hide behind.

I make no claims to being smart, but I try not to make the same mistake twice.

A Destruction check let one of the tall bits of electric stuff tip over. It then fell on a bunch of the other stuff. This caused everything to flash with arcing electricity. That then began to weld things together. Which caused some of the other things to sputter as still more of them began to overheat and melt. After that, a lot of stuff exploded, I suspect due to an electrical overload.

The blast wall absorbed the force exactly as I planned. It was knocked free of the floor and slammed into me in a way I hadn't planned. I fell halfway back down the stairs.

I was glad no one saw that.

As I got back up the stairs, I realized there was a pretty good chance the Audience had seen that. I tried not to think about them too much. Mostly because there didn't seem to be a lot I could do about them. The Narrators all seemed to be concerned with both entertaining them and not offending them. Considering those blue shitheads could alter reality and time. Them being afraid of anything was something to consider.

Ultimately, there were a few possibilities. First, the Audience was a bunch of psychotic morons who got off on other people's suffering. We could argue the point of intelligence required to alter reality, but if they were malicious to that extent, I stand by the insult of moron for them. The next option was that they were uniformed of the harm being done. Ignorance wasn't exactly a virtue, but ignorance was something that could be overcome. Not sure how I could do that. The Narrators would likely fight me every step of the way. An appeal to emotion and a plea for empathy were always a long shot.

"Denise, I have a question," I said at the foot of the next set of stairs.

I felt time stop cold. With the thrum of everything ceasing.

"What do you need, Doug?" Denise asked. She had appeared behind me as is tradition.

I turned to face her. Denise was standing well over a hundred feet away.

"Why are you way over there?" I asked.

"What?" Denise called.

I took a step toward her. She immediately took a step back.

"What is this?" I asked.

"You were going to kill me!" Denise said.

"No, I wasn't. I just would be sad if I did kill you," I told her. Lying is generally bad. That said, I should have lied to Denise.

"That is some serial killer stuff, Doug!" She called back. She took another few steps away from me.

"What if I promise to not kill you without cause?" I yelled.

"Do you get to decide on cause?" Denise asked.

"Well, yeah," I answered.

"Then you stay over there," Denise yelled. She then added, "Please."

"Okay, I have questions I want you to answer…" I then spun on my heels.

"Tell him noth- of fuck!" Lindsey shouted.

I knew it. I then stopped spinning.

Brandon then seemed to launch himself in the direction opposite my spin behind me. I heard him hit the wall.

"Why are you like this?" He asked.

I ignored Brandon. I find that that is the best policy.

Lindsey staggered to her feet, glared at me, then fixed her hair before shouting, "You cannot give him any spoilers."

"I wasn't going to," Denise explained.

"Can I ask my questions, or are more clowns coming to this circus?" I demanded.

"I am not a clown!" Lindsey snapped.

"Bold claim in those shoes," I replied. That just to piss her off, I asked Denise, "What is the GRP?"

"Why the fuck do you care?" Lindsey demanded.

Denise checked her phone, "176K."

I nodded. The number was still going up. "What does the Audience want?"

Everyone paused.

"You shouldn't worry about that, Doug," Brandon told me.

"I do not give a damn about your opinion, Brandon. I am also worried about the Audience," I replied.

Denise considered and then checked the phone, "I am not supposed to tell you."

I considered this, "You don't know."

"I absolutely know," Denise said too quickly

"So then you can't tell me the Audience is lowkey shipping me and Rachel," I replied

Denise didn't check her phone. "Doug, I don't know how you got this information, but spoilers are a serious issue. Things are delicate, and it is important we end today with you ruling the tower."

"I still think that is a bad long-term plan," Lindsey added.

"I don't know. It will stabilize Europe in the short and mid-term." Brandon added.

"I caught you!" I pointed at them. "You really don't know jack shit."

Brandon panicked, "How did you know?" I didn't before that, but I was going to take

"The Rachel and me thing. No one wants that," I stated facts.

All three of the blue boobies considered that.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"Well, let's just wipe…" Lindsey stalled out. She remembered I had mental resistance.

"You three fucked up bad," I pointed out.

"What do you want, Doug?" Denise asked.

"All of my side to live," I said.

Denise checked her phone, "Doug, 3,429 goblins are already dead.

That was a sobering number.

"And more are going to die," Lindsey insisted. She gave me a malicious grin, "Spoilers."

"How about this, whoever tells me what the plan is, is the one I don't blame for this fuck up," I offered.

"There is no fuck up," Lindsey snapped.

I pointed at Brandon.

"This still plays out the same," Lindsey argued, "We shut the hell up. You don't have any information. You can't do anything."

Denise considered, "Sorry Doug, I hate to agree with Lindsey, but telling you more is not helpful."

"You realize Lindsey is setting you up," I pointed out. "She wants to wait until this is done and then blame you for leaking information."

That wiped the smile off Lindsey's face. Denise went very still and studied me, then Lindsey. She really didn't like what she saw. It wasn't a great choice. I sure as hell wasn't her friend, but Lindsey was her enemy. The trouble was both Denise and Lindsey were Narrators. I was talented.

"We just need to trust each other," Brandon pointed out.

"Yeah, everyone listen to Brandon," I scoffed. I put a hand on his shoulder and walked him closer to Denise and Lindsey. I locked eyes with Denise as I walked. She did not like me getting closer, but she wasn't willing to back away from Lindsey. "Consider this, I would owe you, and you need me. These two are trying to kill me. One through malicious action, the other through sheer incompetence."

"You son of a bitch!" Lindsey shrieked. I knew I would get her there eventually. She took a swing at me. I pulled Brandon in the way. She clocked him right in the nose. It went crunch, and Brandon started bleeding.

Now that was confirmation. In the conference room. I couldn't hurt Lindsey. Down here, it was strongly implied I could, but this was full confirmation that they bleed. It was weird that Brandon's blood was red, and not blue.

I then grabbed Lindsey's arm and held on. She kicked me. It was a good kick too. Right in the floating ribs with a lot of force.

The pain was still there. Actually, it was significantly higher than normal. It also didn't lessen with time. Whatever was going on, the nerves in my body were not able to stop triggering the pain response. This wasn't as bad as the high bar set by the Extreme Agony Condition nor the Mana Bleed Condition.

"Fight back, Brandon!" Lindsey yelled.

"He has me by the neck," Brandon objected.

"What do you want, Doug?" Denise asked again.

"Stop working with these two. You're my Narrator, stop playing passive, and fight for my story." I told her.

Denise frowned, "What does that mean?"

"The tunnels to the Dark are clogged just as an army of Bigfeet show up." I shook my head, "That has Lindsey's fingerprints all over it."

"Eat! Shit!" Lindsey yelled, kicking me with each word. She then kept kicking me and clawing at my arm.

"It was a dramatic setup," Denise hedged.

"What were Marge's thoughts?" I asked.

"She thought it was stupid because too many goblins would die. She also thought it would split focus from the war," Denise admitted.

"Why the hell are you talking to him? You dumb bitch!" Lindsey growled. She tried to make a grab for Denise. I pulled her toward me and out of reach of Denise.

Teamwork already.

"So, you were the deciding vote?" I clarified.

Denise looked uncomfortable, "Yes."

"Change your vote," I told her.

Denise blinked, "That is an option?"

"Nothing is finished until it is done," I told her.

Lindsey stopped kicking me. "You can't just change the story."

"Is altering an ending and shifting the death count really beyond the bounds of your purview, especially with Marge's help?" I asked. Marge was a lesser-known Narrator to me. She was clearly cruel and callous, but she could run circles around Lindsey and Brandon. She was also on friendly terms with Wilson, as far as that guy had friends.

Denise nodded.

"Cool, do the same with the tower," I said.

"What fuck is happening?" Lindsey shouted. She started kicking me again.

Ow.

Ow. Ow.

Ow. Ow. Ouch!

Denise checked her phone. "You are already slated to win a Pyrrhic victory. It looks like by the end half of your fighting force is set to be dead."

"Marge… signed…off on… that!" I managed through Lindsey's abuse.

"She was outvoted," Denise realized. She studied Lindsey as she assaulted me. I really wished Denise would think faster. "I'll see what I can do."

I nodded, "So what do you know about the Audience? How do you know if they are happy?"

Denise looked nervous.

"I will say Lindsey told me anything you tell me," I stated.

Denise put her phone in her pocket. "All we have is viewership data. The only things we can tell for certain are that consistent peace or constant despair drives disengagement. The rest is just educated guessing."

"What the fuck are you doing?" Lindsey shrieked.

"Then how does cancellation work?" I asked.

"If Mr. Smith, the Head of Show runner, deems things are no longer viable, he can end it all," Denise said.

Lindsey tried biting my hand. That hurt on a near spiritual level, but I didn't let go. She finally stopped doing that, and said, "Play ball or get ready to be left on this rock with all you little friends depowered and left to the mobs."

"Well, now isn't this a fun little chat," Wilson declared.

"Wilson, what took you so long?" I asked

Wilson stepped into view, and the other Narrators flinched, "I was tending to some other aspects of the story. Believe it or not, Kid, the whole world doesn't revolve around you." He looked at Brandon and Lindsey, "Now, is there a reason you two are assaulting one of this story's main characters?"

"He attacked us!" Lindsey roared.

Wilson looked into the middle distance for a moment, "That isn't what the logs say. All I see is a lot of attacks from Lindsey against Doug. The Kid tends to counter-attack when that happens. Did you not see the mile-wide trail of corpses he had left behind leading up to the tower?

"She was also ranting about the Audience," I added. It felt like the right time. Also, holy shit, my hand hurt.

"That is concerning to hear," Grace stated. She stepped into view. "It is just as concerning as seeing you manhandle her and Brandon."

"I am afraid if I let them go, they will attack me," I explained.

Lindsey kicked me again.

"She is attacking you anyway," Grace observed.

"Because he won't let go!" Lindsey tried to defend herself. The thing is, she was relying on empathy from Grace and Wilson.

I was relying on political convenience. I was going to win this exchange by a mile. "It is an unfortunate, vicious cycle getting in the way of me completing the story."

Grace and Wilson exchanged a look.

"We do still need to handle the issues in Sci Paulo," Wilson pointed out.

"I am concerned about the actions in Hell as well," Grace conceded.

Wilson clapped his hands together before rubbing them together, "Who knows what could happen with that. It is so exciting." He put his smile back on and turned to the rest of us. "So then this is how it is going to shake out-"

"Denise is the-" Lindsey started.

"Adults are talking!" Wilson shouted over her.

We all froze. Wilson had lost his cool. It was only for a moment, but all of us saw it.

Wilson pushed on, "We are going to ignore anyone sharing behind-the-scenes junk with talent. We are going to continue working this event professionally. We aren't going to fuck around playing the blame game, or breaking rules, or messing with the big players of this story. Got it!"

Yes," Brandon said immediately.

Lindsey kicked me one last time. This kick wasn't aimed at the floating ribs. "Fine."

Denise took a breath, "I feel the need to change my stance on several of the outcomes."

"That's fine. We are having to adjust on the fly," Wilson replied, oddly calm and non-adversarial.

"What about Grace?" I asked.

Grace shrugged, "I have my plans in place. You pulled this into a global affair. That gives me all sorts of plans to destroy you and Wilson after this."

"God, that's hot," Wilson said

Grace shook her head and eyed me in disdain, "He is going to get us canceled. The mistake in the Basement is unsalvageable."

"Probably," Wilson agreed.

Reality glitched. Brandon and Lindsey were no longer in my hands. The pain from the noninjuries Lindsey had inflicted were gone. I was at the foot of the stairs. Time was back to moving. I needed to get going.

I hoped the wedge I drove would do something.

I went up the stairs.