Hey peeps!
Nexus Games 2 will be out in June. Hopefully for Academy in July, and Grandmaster in Sept. Lots of writing to do!
Shami
The disgusting corpse-centipede was made exclusively of human body parts. The arms and hands writhed in formation, and the body of the creature was several spines woven together, like a rope. Three human heads made up its face, and the tail was complete with a stinger formed from broken and sharpened bones.
Kellan’s Blitzkrieg Analysis gave him basic information on the horrific monster clawing its way into the maze.
Name: Carrion Centipede
Race:Lesser Yami
Magics: Body, Entropy
Rank:Impossible to Rank
Armor Rating: --
Health: 20/20
Stats:
Strength—4
Dexterity—8 [Fast]
Fortitude—2
Intelligence—1
Perception—2
Willpower—1
Abilities:
Diseased—The yami infects everything it wounds with Shaken Sickness. This disease can be resisted with 6 or higher fortitude.
Undead—The yami is immune to poison and gas. The yami does not need to breathe or eat to survive. Additionally, the yami feels no pain.
The monster had snaked its way out of the coffin with lightning speed, but Kellan was ready. He fired on it. The Nexus—a world with rules and exact dealings—gave him information on his attacks. The notifications came quickly, and were somewhat distracting, but Kellan put up with them.
[Alex Kellan] shot [Carrion Centipede] for 6 damage. (3 + 100% (50% Sharpshooter Modifier x 2 Sevriss Bonus))
The entire string of information was like an equation done for him. On his Earth, there weren’t a quantified numbers for what happened. Kellan just shot and if he hit or missed depended on factors he couldn’t really describe outside of his own aim. The Nexus took into account the speed of his target, the power of his gun, his own training, and even Kellan’s dexterity—all to calculate an exact amount of damage dealt to the target.
Kellan understood that if he shot at specific points on the body, different numbers would be added to the equation—a weak spot was always more vulnerable. But outside of that, his bullets did a near fixed amount of damage.
They ripped through the corpse centipede, but the undead monstrosity was barely affected. Its “health” seemed derived from the fact it had multiple body parts worth of flesh.
Kellan continued to fire, no need to worry about ammo.
He gave another chunk of damage before the beast whipped around its tail. Kellan rolled out of the way. When the yami attempted to hit him a second time, Kellan threw his light source and then ducked into the shadows.
He could move a short distance while protected by the darkness. He “dove” into the shadows like they were water only he could enter, and then emerged a good ten feet away, resurfacing in the hallway. Kellan took a deep breath when he stepped out of the void. He couldn’t breathe while under.
Mavis shot the creature with her handgun.
There were no notifications for Kellan.
He suspected it was because he wasn’t involved in any way. The Nexus only provided information when it applied to Kellan, somehow.
Perhaps a magical ability would allow him to know everything happening in combat? If there was one, Kellan didn’t have it.
Sen clapped his hands, and a pinkish rose barrier shimmered into existence around Mavis.
The carrion centipede lashed out with its stinger tail. The broken bones broke through the barrier and struck Mavis across the shoulder. She cried out and fired again.
Kellan unloaded with his rifle. His many bullets ripped the creature apart from behind. It tried to turn—it tried to hurry over to Kellan—but it had already taken too much damage. The beast screamed and then collapsed to the floor, its corpse body decomposing faster than Kellan had ever seen before.
Soon, it was just a mass of bones and liquid body parts. Blood bubbled, and the skulls of its three heads were scarlet from the mucus.
One arcana appeared out of the gore. Its red shimmer lit up the hall a bit.
“I see now,” Sen muttered. During the fight, he had pressed his back up against the wall. Now that the danger was gone, he pushed himself away and walked over to the edge of the pooled blood. “The yami in these catacombs… They’re likely traps all their own.”
“What do you mean?” Kellan asked as he approached the open coffin.
He glanced inside. There was a hole leading down, with a ladder mounted to the bricks. The creature clearly hadn’t used the ladder. What was it for? Other people? Were they supposed to go inside the coffin?
Kellan mulled over the situation and backed away from the bizarre container.
“Shaken Sickness is a disease that limits your movement,” Sen said. He turned his attention to Mavis. “It usually causes shivers, and gradually lowers your dexterity. Which would prevent people from easily escaping once the time was low…”
Mavis tucked her Desert Eagle into the waistband of her pants. She exhaled, her hands shaky, just as Sen had said. When she turned to Kellan, she frowned. “You said you can heal people?”
He nodded and then walked over. When Kellan touched her, he used his Heal the Body ability.
Kellan spent one mana, and healed Mavis of three damage. The power felt warm and inviting, and the scratch on Mavis’s shoulder stitched itself up. The blood on her T-shirt didn’t disappear, though.
And Mavis’s shaking didn’t stop, either.
She stared down at her unsteady hands. “Wait… I’m going to get shakier as we go along?”
Sen stepped close to her side. “That’s correct. I suspect most of the creatures will have that unfortunate disease…”
After a long moment of just staring, Mavis slowly wrapped her arms tightly around her own body. Her fingers gripped her upper arms as she glared at the floor.
“And healing won’t make it go away?” she whispered.
“His healing won’t,” Sen stated. With a scoff, he added, “I told him not to pick up healing abilities. It requires investment. Healing damage is fine—perhaps even useful in the right situations—but the ability to heal poison, disease, genetic defects, and permanent magical injuries requires a lot of body magic, which requires a lot of arcana. Our warrior should focus on combat abilities, rather than trying to pick up all the healing abilities there are out there.”
“Body mages can heal genetic defects?” Kellan asked, almost in awe. “Like… what?”
Sen shot him a glower. “What did I just say? Don’t think about those abilities! You don’t have enough time, or arcana, to properly invest in becoming a legendary healer. I’m already there!” He pulled back his volume to say, “Well, not all the way there. I’m very good.”
Mavis’s fingers twisted into the sleeves of her shirt as she tightened her grip. “Wait, can you heal me of the disease?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Well?” Mavis knitted her eyebrows and frowned. “What’re you waiting for?”
“We should wait until after we’ve made it a little deeper,” Sen said matter-of-factly. “The ability requires that I spend mana, so if you’re going to get struck by the enemy a few times, I should wait to use my healing until we absolutely need it. Understand? Your shaking shouldn’t be too bad right now. It’s a disease that gradually takes effect. In a few minutes it’ll take another point of dexterity, and then a few more minutes, another.”
Kellan examined Mavis for a moment. She wasn’t shaking too bad, but it was obvious enough. She could probably continue without any healing, and they would be okay.
“Just heal me right now,” Mavis said, her tone cold.
“I told you. That’s a waste of mana.” Sen sighed and rubbed at his temple. “I go to great lengths to explain things, and I swear no one listens…”
“I heard what you said. Heal me anyway.”
“We shouldn’t—”
“I don’t care about that,” Mavis snapped, her voice bordering on a shout.
The echo of her anger traveled the hall in both directions. Kellan glanced around, hoping nothing was around to mess with them. Fortunately, he saw and heard no movement. He returned his attention to the conversation, confused by Mavis’s sudden outburst.
“What’s wrong?” Kellan asked. “Is something happening?”
Mavis inhaled, obviously calming herself. Then she just stared at the floor as she replied, “I just don’t want to be weak again, okay? Please. Heal me now. I’ll avoid the monsters better in the future.”
Not weak again…
Sen had been the one to fix her leg. Before then, she had walked with a notable limp. Mavis had hated it, but Kellan hadn’t realized how much.
“Very well,” Sen finally stated. He stepped close to Mavis and placed his hand on her side. “There. You should feel better any moment.”
The use of his magic seemingly had no visible component. Sen just touched Mavis, and a few seconds later, her shaking stopped. She stood still for a long while, as if making sure the shiver of weakness wouldn’t return.
Once she was convinced that she was cured, Mavis smiled wide. “Thank you.”
“So much drama,” Sen said, rolling his eyes. “No one thought you were weak. We all knew it was the work of the disease, not your lack of courage or willpower.”
“That’s what you say.” Mavis stepped away from him and readied her handgun again. “But after I was injured while on active duty, a lot of people who I thought were my friends just abandoned me. Even…”
Her significant other, Kellan thought, recalling their conversation on the matter.
It seemed her scars hadn’t healed completely. At least, not the ones on the inside.
In order to change the subject, Kellan motioned to the coffin. “There’s a ladder down.”
“Oh?” Sen glanced over. “Well, go down there.”
“Alone?”
“Of course alone.” Sen sneered. “You’re an eclipse mage, aren’t you? The darkness is your kingdom. Slip in there, search around, and then come back to us.” He clapped his hands. “Chop chop.”
After a long exhale, where Kellan gave serious thought to just continuing their trek, he turned his attention to the coffin with the ladder that led deeper underground. He hoisted himself up on the brick ledge of the hole in the wall, and then crouched over the coffin in order to get an even better view. He stared down into the pit, thankful he noticed the floor. It wasn’t too far down.
After a deep breath, Kellan dove into the darkness and quickly traveled as a shadow along the wall and then to the floor. When he emerged, he was greeted by the stench of rot and decay. He covered his nose and glanced around, his eyes watering.
There wasn’t much. No glowing arcana, no obviously magical objects. The room wasn’t even large—it was the size of a household pantry at most.
But he did see a lump of flesh. Not just a rotting bit of decayed human, but a pulsating lump—something akin to a mole on someone’s skin. It writhed around, reminding Kellan of a hamster. It was no larger than his fist, and when he knelt to pick it up, the little lump practically leaned away from him, as though sentient.
His ability gave him information, though he almost wished it hadn’t.
Magical Item [Raw Material, Permanent]—Crafting Clay
A rare material dropped from primordial dragons when they molt and slough their old scales for newer ones.
A body mage with the ability “Fleshcrafting, Rank II” may use this clay to add +2 permanent physical stats to their being (increasing different categories, not adding both points in one stat) OR may correct penalties resulting from “Gift Grafting” OR may add a bizarre physical feature (wings, tail, additional arm, horns, claws, etc.) to their person. This feature isn’t genetic and will not pass to offspring.
Dropped from primordial dragons, huh?
Kellan was surprised he found anything at all. Hadn’t the centipede been a trap? Or had the ladder and the room below the coffin been a secret hideaway that most would miss because they wouldn’t have bothered to investigate the resting spot of a monster? Kellan was convinced it was the latter.
The Arbiter seemed to enjoy hiding special rooms around the game arenas.
It took most of Kellan’s willpower not to just leave the disgusting tumor-chunk alone, but he knew he had to show it to Sen. But the thought of touching it…
This is the Nexus. The thing could be secretly diseased. Kellan mulled over the situation for a few seconds. Then again, the description didn’t indicate it was negative. Still…
Kellan removed his T-shirt and used it to scoop up the jiggling lump. Then he used the ladder to leave the hole, just in case diving into the shadows would cause him to lose the bizarre flesh. He emerged from the coffin, the odor of death following him as he went.
“You somehow lost your shirt down there?” Sen frowned. “Unbelievable.”
Kellan handed over his impromptu sack of flesh by just dropping it on the ground. “I found something. Probably for you. This looks like a thing you’d get excited over.”
With an eyebrow raised, Sen knelt and unwrapped the flesh. Then he gasped—both hands on his cheeks.
“By the might of Hakael! Do you know what this is?” Sen reached for the flesh with hands shakier than Mavis’s ever were. “It’s so beautiful…”
Mavis stared at the disgusting tumor, her eyes narrowed. “Why did you bring this up the ladder?” She turned to Kellan. “Was this supposed to be a joke?”
Without the Blitzkrieg Analysis ability, Kellan suspected that Mavis couldn’t tell the flesh was actually magical. He considered that a moment before answering.
“Are you seeing Sen’s reaction?” Kellan motioned to the kid, who was now petting the blob. “I figured he’d be excited. That man goes on about being a fleshcrafter more than a room of attorneys go on about practicing law.”
“This is Crafting Clay!” Sen declared as he held the flesh above his head. He might as well have been holding Simba. He smiled wide and then hugged it close to his chest, the gooey flesh sticking to the Power Rangers on his sweatshirt. “This isn’t as good as Langarren Clay, but it’s just one step below! With this…. I can repair some of my body.”
He practically rubbed the tumor against his cheek, as though caressing it.
Kellan couldn’t stop himself from frowning. “I’m so… happy for you.” He didn’t know what else to say. “But we should probably keep moving.” He pulled his shirt back on and brushed off the front.
He glanced at his arm.
06:32
“We’ve already lost an hour and half.”
“I agree, we should go,” Mavis said.
Sen, clutching the lump of jiggling pale flesh as though it were his own baby, hurried over to grab the lit hane stick off the floor. He held it in one hand, and the flesh in the other. “Fine. Let’s hurry along. The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”
Kellan ran down the length of a hall until they came to another four-way intersection.
Shouts and screams echoed around them, traveling down the narrow corridors from every direction. They were the other teams—Kellan was certain. Words like stop, and this can’t be realreached him like faint whispers. This time, every pathway was cleared of cobwebs. The other teams had been through here—even some of the coffin lids were shoved to the side, exposing empty insides.
I need more of strategy here,Kellan thought.
He closed his eyes and went back to his basic training. His field manual had stressed the importance of methodical testing to gain intelligence on the enemy. He needed a plan—one that he could stick to until they found their way out. Or in case they were separated.
How could they find a way out of a maze?
In theory, if someone placed their hand on a wall and followed it through all twists and turns and dead ends, they would always find their way out of a maze. The only exception was if the maze had an “island” of walls, meaning the wall cluster didn’t connect to anything else in the maze. But even then, if Kellan marked the floor, went along the entire wall, and found it to be an island, he could just switch to an outside wall and follow that.
Eventually, by keeping a hand on the walls, he would eventually find a way out. It worked every time to escape a maze.
But that would take too long.
We’re going about this the wrong way. Kellan gritted his teeth. If there were illusions in the beginning, there are likely illusions in other places. But how will we find them if we don’t have any abilities that see through their tricks?
“Which way?” Mavis asked, her handgun at the ready. Her eyebrows knitted as she glanced down the other three directions. “We shouldn’t just stand here.”
Struck with an idea, Kellan jogged forward and grabbed the lid off a coffin. He threw it to the ground and fired at it with quick bursts from his rifle, making sure to angle his shots so that the bullets ricocheted down an empty hall, away from the teams. The redwood lid shattered into hundreds of pieces, the splinters twirling through the air.
His gunshots added to the noise of the maze, mixing with the shouts from other teams.
Once the cacophony ended, Sen stepped forward, hugging the lump of flesh close. “What’re you doing? The coffins won’t have arcana! There’s no reason to destroy them.”
Kellan knelt and gathered up bits of wood. Then he passed out to pieces to Mavis and Sen. The occasional splinters irritated him, but to his fascination, the slivers of wood were pushed out of his fingers by the Tyranny Worms. He spotted their yellow wriggling bodies as the wood slipped out of his body, as though even they were irritated by the splinters.
Sen and Mavis examined their bits of wood.
“Why?” was all Mavis asked.
“Throw them at the walls as we go along,” Kellan said. “If there’s an illusion, the wood will pass through. If the wood bounces off the bricks, obviously it’s real.”
Sen slowly smiled—almost a smirk, but not quiet. “Clever. I wasn’t expecting that from our warrior. No wonder my sister is enamored with your alternate-dimension self.”
Kellan held back a sarcastic remark as he walked into the first corridor and threw a bit of wood at the wall. The coffin fragment bounced off the rough bricks. Then Kellan did the same for the other side. Again, the wood clattered against the wall and then tumbled to the ground.
This might take too long. We’ll have to run and throw if we want to keep a descent pace.
“Mavis,” he said. “You throw at the right wall, and Sen, you throw at the left. I’ll carry extras. Just tell me when you need more.”
“We’re not going to pick them up?” Mavis knelt and gathered up the two bits Kellan had thrown. “We won’t need more if we just collect what we’ve thrown.”
“It’ll take too long. Let’s just focus on moving forward.”
“Are we going to open up any other coffins along the way?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Sen interjected. “We need the arcana. And what if we find more clay? I need more. At least one more. Maybe two.”
Kellan shook his head. “The coffins are a trap.”
“Some are.”
“No, you don’t understand. They’re meant to slow us, and they’re not even worth it. Remember? We’re here for the Summoning Chime. We need to get that first, and then come back here and check coffins. If we search these halls looking for coffins with good percentages, we’re just wasting time.”
The Risk Versus Reward game became clear in his mind. They needed to prioritize getting the Chime, and only then could they risk fighting monsters or triggering the timer to hit zero.
“Let’s go down this hall.” Kellan threw another stick of hane on the floor and crushed it. The mark remained—both on the bottom of his bare foot and the bricks. “This is so we know what way we came.”
He hurried forward, his weapon ready, his attention on the darkness around the hall. The shadows didn’t obscure his vision, and if he was ahead of the light, could take advantage of his eclipse magic.
Mavis and Sen followed after him, each tossing bits of wood at the walls.
As they ran, Kellan glanced at the coffins. Their percentage numbers on each were slightly different, and he could see how he could waste an inordinate amount of time checking the lids of each and every one.
One coffin had:
Arcana 30%
Trap 50%
Other 20%
That was highest he had seen for an “Other” category.
Another coffin read:
Arcana 80%
Trap 19%
Other 1%
Kellan almost stopped for that coffin, but he didn’t want to deviate from his plan. All of his field training told him that he shouldn’t alter the articulated plan unless absolutely necessary, and he was determined to stick to that.
“Kellan!”
He stopped and whirled around on his heel, his rifle up.
Mavis and Sen stood by a wall. She pointed at the bricks and then tossed another piece of the coffin lid. The chunk of wood sailed right through the wall—as though it didn’t exist. Kellan had been right. There were more illusions, and the pathway to the center was likely filled with them.
“Good work.” He ran back over and then went headfirst into the wall. When he stumbled through, and found yet another corridor of bricks, webs, and coffins, he smiled. “C’mon. It’s clear.”
Kellan ran forward, but he slowed, his attention on his surroundings. The bricks, the shadows—the very walls—seemed to be moving. Subtly. Slowly. It was hard to describe. It felt like small pieces were shifting around, not whole bricks at a time.
When Kellan stepped forward, something squished between his toes. The slimy sensation reminded Kellan of a peeled grape. He glanced down and his chest tightened.
Spiders.
Hundreds of spiders.
But not normal spiders—with normal black bodies and eight legs—but spiders with an eyeball on their abdomen. A human eye, open and staring, unable to blink. The eyeball protruded from the spider’s body, practically jiggling.
Kellan had stepped on one, the juices of the eye gushing between his toes and across his foot. He swallowed hard as he took a step back.
All the movement on the walls and the floor were nothing more than spiders. Each arachnoid had a human eye on its back, but also a pair of giant fangs that hung from their mouths, so swollen with venom, it seemed as though they couldn’t tuck them in.
This was some sort of hallway decorated in nightmares.
Mavis and Sen entered the hall.
Then Sen lifted the little light. Its bright shine cast away the darkness, and the confidence of the spiders. They scurried away, to the edge of the illumination, their pupils constricted into tiny black dots.
Some of the eyes were blue. Some were green. Some brown.
“What is that?” Mavis asked, her voice breathless. “Was that… were those… Were those spiders?”
“Yes,” Kellan muttered.
Although his gun was infinite and didn’t need to be reloaded, he didn’t have enough bullets for all the disgusting creatures that lined the corridor.
“Are they magical?” Mavis asked.
“I can’t see anything magical about them.” Kellan narrowed his eyes, hoping they’d provide some information, but nothing happened. But they had to be magical. A spider couldn’t possibly have an eye in its abdomen.
“They’re Crypt Widows,” Sen said matter-of-factly. “They’re quite magical, but easily killed. Their venom causes paralysis, and once you’re immobile, they steal body parts.”
“Like eyeballs?” Kellan asked with a sardonic edge.
“Precisely.”
“Why can’t I tell they’re magical? My Blitzkrieg Analysis usually provides me with something.”
“Creatures with eclipse or mind magic can sometimes hide their basic information.” Sen stepped closer to Mavis, his eyes locked on the distant spiders that writhed around in the darkness. “Crypt Widows use eclipse magic to remained quiet and hidden, and sometimes use the shadows to travel to their victims at frightening speeds.”
Mavis shuddered. “Well, I vote we go back and find another way.”
“No.” Kellan shook his head, trying to undo the knot of anxiety in his chest. “This is definitely the way. The spiders are meant to scare us—or actually paralyze us. Slow us down. I say we run through here and keep going.”
After shaking her hands out, Mavis glanced down at Sen. “You can heal disease… Can you heal poison and venom as well?”
“Of course.” Sen huffed and then petted his flesh lump. “I’m a skilled healer, thank you very much.”
“Will the paralysis happen immediately if we’re bitten?”
“It’ll take hold of your whole person after thirty seconds, roughly. For a child, however… Much sooner.”
Some of the eyeball spiders ventured into the light, growing bolder the longer Kellan and the others stood in the hallway. The eyes stared at them, the pupils constricting and dilating as they watched.
Kellan suspected a few would grow daring enough to attack.
He knelt and then motioned to Sen. “Here. Get on my back. Mavis and I will run, and you just make sure we don’t collapse.”
Sen’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Run down the hall? I wouldn’t trust you to run a bath, why would I trust you to run with me down the hall?”
“I carried you through the last bit of the first game,” Kellan stated.
The statement almost acted as a slap. Sen gripped his flesh lump tighter, his lips pursed. But he gradually relaxed, his distant gaze on the floor. “Yes. You’re right. You did… carry me through most of it.”
“And I’ll carry you here. Get on.”
The statement seemed to change Sen’s demeanor. He glanced up, his brow furrowed. Then he slowly walked over to Kellan. Before Sen climbed onto his back, he carefully tucked the Crafting Clay into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, while also holding the brightly lit hane. Sen wrapped his arms around Kellan’s neck and pressed himself against Kellan’s backpack. He held on tight, his fingers lacing together in front of Kellan, like an odd bowtie.
Kellan hefted Sen up higher as he stood. “See? I got you.”
“Let’s not speak of this.”
With a chuckle, Kellan nodded. “Fine by me.”
“And don’t let any of the Crypt Windows touch me.”
“Spoiler alert: That’s the plan.”
If Kellan were carrying someone, he wouldn’t be able to dive into the darkness and travel as a shadow. But this way, he could protect Sen. If he were bitten, Sen would have the capability of healing him before anything could be stolen by the spiders…
“Are you sure about this?” Mavis whispered.
“I’m confident.” Kellan offered a smile. “Are you with me, soldier?”
That got her smiling. “Well, if you’re that confident. Yeah. I’ve got your back.”
The Crypt Widows leapt into the light, three and four at time. They scurried closer and closer, their fangs prominent. Before they could Reach Kellan’s bare feet, he grabbed Sen’s legs and then rushed forward.
Their light, made by Kellan’s eclipse magic, seemed to frighten most of the spiders in the stone corridor. But there were hundreds of spiders, and some of them had more courage others. Kellan stepped on several as he ran, the squish of their fleshy bodies—especially the eyeballs, which popped like bags of water—sent shivered up and down his spine.
But one leapt from the ceiling and landed on his face. Kellan acted out of instinct and smacked it away, but not before the disgusting monster could sink its fangs into his cheek.
Kellan grunted, his jaw clenched. The sting of the venom was immediate—the stuff burned through his face, straight to his sinuses, and then to his ear.
Sen touched his fingers to the front of Kellan’s neck. Warmth spread outward from his touch.
[Sun Sen] used Purge to heal [Alex Kellan] of all poisons and venoms of B-rank and lower.
The relaxing sensation allowed Kellan to breathe easy. He smiled to himself as he picked up the pace, the splatof spider bodies under his feet almost a delightful reminder that he was taking his revenge.
Mavis kept close, and when a spider leapt for her arm, she stumbled. But when the tiny beast tried to bite her, its fangs couldn’t seem to pierce through her magically pebbled skin. Mavis swatted the spider away before it could find a soft spot.
Then Kellan saw the end of the corridor—a flat wall.
A dead end.
The Crypt Widows clustered over everything, their swarming bodies making it difficult to see. But they weren’t on the far wall at the end of the corridor. Why? Because they didn’t want to climb across the dead end?
Or because they couldn’t. Because it was another illusion.
“Hang on,” Kellan shouted.
And then he ran at the wall full tilt.