“So, it’s like a video game!” the cop called Gunther Reynolds spoke out loud. Looking remarkably happy for someone with so many bruises.

  “We kill monsters with melee weapons and we get magic experience! We work out in magic places and get magic experience! We get enough magic experience and we get magic powers in the form of Cores!”

  He looked… remarkably like a puppy as he spoke. It made us feel bad.

  “Did I get all that right?”

  “Yes.” The Saboteur confirmed.

  The brave man, John Redfort, sighed in response.

  “On my gosh Gunther. Shut the eff up.”

  He groaned again and rubbed his face with his dirty hands.

  “We just got told the world is gonna end soon and that what’s left will be some kinda magicpunk eugenic dystopia. This is not the time to sound happy.”

  “But magic!” Gunther countered.

  “Was he dropped as a kid?” Becca, one of the actual military personnel asked from the side.

  “Hard to say.” Fergus, another soldier, answered in turn. “I’ve seen similar things before. Got myself these cousins out in the sticks. At some point, vodka wasn’t cutting it so they turned to huffing paint and drinking rubbing alcohol. Could be something like that.”

  Gunther didn’t seem to pay them or any of the other whisperers any mind. Instead, his own mind was reveling in the confirmation of several lifelong dreams. Not only was magic now real and in his face, but he had a certifiable way of getting it for himself.

  “Okay.” Mr. Redfort interrupted. Finally drawing his hands way from his face. “So what do we call you?”

  “Mr. Muller.” The Saboteur answered at once. Now drawing on Elsie’s own knowledge about her family’s activities.

  Herr Muller was a real person. In a way.

  It was one of the aliases James Robertson used when drip feeding information to actual intelligence agencies around the globe. As far as the western governments were concerned, he was an asset who did a bit of weapons smuggling and private security from time to time. All while providing a steady supply of real information about certain cartels, terrorist cells and human trafficking operations Carlyle and co came across on their day to day.

  Herr Muller would ostensibly volunteer this information in exchange for favours, earning him a reputation for being reliable and discreet. On the books, he was a private contractor to be used on occasion. In reality, several of the higher ups at some agencies were ready to throw him a few pardons if it ever came to that. All in exchange for further service.

  That meant any agency catching a whiff of this operation after the fact would simply assume Herr Muller was here on behalf of another country’s agency or agencies and that the other guys weren’t being completely honest about how much they knew.

  ‘It will mean some burnt bridges in the long run, but Herr Muller was always a disposable mask anyway.’ We mused. ‘It will all be worth it if we make things easier for great-grandpa. Besides, having the world learn about magic was always the plan. Might as well make it so that the entire city gets cores as soon as possible.’

  “Okay Mr. Muller. So, what happens now?” He asked more sternly. “What’s the plan going forward? How do we contain this place so that the monsters don’t overrun the city?”

  “Satchel charges, I assume.” Fergus piped up. “Or some other kind of explosive ordinance. We’re not getting shot at, so it should be a simple thing to bring down a few more squads with plenty more ammo to cover the bomb guys when we start planting the stuff. I reckon blowing the entrance a few hundred feet into the sky should collapse most of the tunnels beneath us.”

  Yet another soldier nodded.

  “Not a bad idea. Even if it doesn’t work out, it should buy the brass enough time to bring up more toys. I figure a couple flights of Apaches should be enough to bring down anymore caterpillars that come crawling out after.”

  “That won’t work.” The Saboteur continued. “The Dungeon will never be destroyed like that. Not that it matters. It won’t help anything.”

  John’s eyebrow rose up.

  “Okay? So what then?”

  “Get magic for yourselves.” The Saboteur’s tongue wagged. “I have swords here. Made from the bones of monsters. It might seem barbaric, but they are much sharper and much more durable than the shovels you were using. Keep killing and killing until you can’t move anymore. Until you feel like your bones are made of jelly and until your lungs are set on fire. Then you’ll see what the killings will give you. You’ll see how much power you get and how much stronger you are. After that…”

  The Saboteur shrugged theatrically.

  “It’ll be time to give the people a shot.”

  Now everyone had their eyebrows raised. Even Gunther.

  “What exactly do you mean?”

  “I mean exactly what I said. The orders from above are to open the Dungeon to everyone who wants to come. In fact, it is imperative that we get as many people as possible to come down here and fight monsters too.”

  “Okay?” Gunther spoke slowly. “I get that. Makes sense. Magic is real so we want as many people as possible to get it. Because I assume the monsters will start coming faster than we can make bullets. But…”

  “But that means bringing civies down here to get butchered like stuck pigs.” John finished.

  “We’re not doing that.” Fergus announced. “Anyone we send will get killed. That’s stupid. It makes more sense to cordon off the area and bring in the rest of the army down here to get these Cores. We’ll at least be trained. Well. Anyone in the infantry anyway. Those air force guys are probably too fat and drunk to get up from their chairs.”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Yeah probably.” Becca agreed. “Dated a guy from the air-force once. Guy was so fat he hadn’t seen his twinkie since the Bush admiration.”

  “Shut up Becca. Nobody cares.” Fergus snapped. Then he turned to the Saboteur.

  “Like we all said. We’re not bringing people off the street down here. That’ll be a bloodbath.”

  “No. It won’t be.” The Saboteur countered. “Like I said, these swords have been made in order to kill monsters more effectively. Guns won’t save you anymore. They won’t save anyone. And if you think keeping the people up top from the Dungeon will help them in any way, then you’re higher than Gunther.”

  “Hey!” Gunther protested.

  Everyone ignored him.

  “The swords and all the other equipment the agency has made will keep people safe as they train. At least until they get decent Cores. And they will be getting decent Cores. It is the only way to survive what is coming.”

  We commanded the Saboteur to move forwards.

  “If you don’t believe me. Come and try me.”

  John was the very first one to sense the danger. Standing up from his sitting position despite the fatigue drawing him down and taking several steps back.

  Gunther, on the other hand, looked like he wanted nothing more than to test out someone with real magic. His eyes glistening with barely restrained expectation as his pupils dilated.

  Then he lunged. Like a football player putting everything into a single, game-changing tackle.

  The tackle landed.

  The Saboteur, being level 3, didn’t even budge.

  Gunther looked up. With a rather guilty expression.

  The Saboteur picked him up with one hand and threw him across the room. In the same way a normal man might throw around a tiny ragdoll.

  And like a ragdoll, the man went flying. Landing in a heap of tangled limbs that failed to get back up.

  Yet we could sense that Gunther was not discouraged by this. Quite the contrary.

  Gunther’s heart and mind were both afire with longing. Already imagining what he himself could do with that level of strength.

  “In any case, these are the orders coming from above.” The Saboteur lied. “So regardless of what you think, you will work until you get magic for yourselves to make yourselves stronger. Then you will open the Dungeon for everyone else. That is the only way the city will survive. The only way the country will survive.”

  That, at least, was true. And they all seemed to slowly get the message.

  Three hours later, the party that had made their way down to the Dungeon using guns was making their way back to the surface using bone spears as crutches. Bone swords attached to their hips using leather straps.

  All the weapons were worn, or as worn as items made from level 3 materials could get in such a short time.

  Though they paled in comparison to how the people were feeling. Each step was a herculean effort for them. Their eyes devoid of any of the life and energy they’d had in the beginning.

  When they got to the surface, several cameras started flashing.

  A crowd of reporters surging forwards like a tide in order to get the scoop for their own publication.

  “Good evening, everyone. We come to you live from Detroit, Michigan with a news update on the monsters coming from the underground. Behind me are several soldiers, paramedics and members of the Detroit PD that are just now re-surfacing from the hole after going down to rescue anyone who may have been stuck there. In the past few hours, more and more sections of the military and the national guard have been deployed towards the city in order to secure the population. Pundits have hinted at the possibility of an emergency evacuation of the city, but we do not have any information as of this moment. Behind me we see the survivors coming up to debrief with the officers on command. We shall see what the officers decided to do after they get a better idea of what’s going on. All the while, the people of Detroit wait with bated breath as they see their beloved city being assaulted from the very ground. Will they have to leave their home in order to keep their lives? Will a state of emergency be called? Will the army nuke he city like the netizens are suggesting? What is happening with Carlyle Robertson and the magic food? Is magic real? What will happen with the hero Ryuji Hanamura after the shaved gorilla incident? For more information on these events and more…This is Jane Holland with the channel 6 news.”

  We saw the worlds through the minds of the people up above. Our combined minds using Elsie’s Skills to read their thoughts and track the soldier and the police officers and the paramedics as they de-briefed the highest-ranked officer on the site. A colonel.

  We had been slightly worried that the ruse wouldn’t work, but those worries turned out to be unfounded. The colonel received the report. Asked to see one of the weapons. And used a bone sword to hack away at one of the nearby barricades made of sandbags.

  The sword cleaved through the bags and all their contents like a hot knife through butter and the colonel’s eyes went wide. Then he sighed in resignation. Said something about spooks never giving them the info they needed upfront and gave the order to distribute all the weapons the delvers had brought up with them.

  “Our boys go first.” He said evenly. “Then we worry about getting everyone else in that hole with the monsters.”

  Then his gaze fell on the Saboteur. Hardening.

  “I did hear about you, you know. Not too much. Only a few rumors every now and then. Tell me, how long has the brass known about what’s going on?”

  “Nothing definitive has been confirmed as of yet. Technically.” We spoke through the Saboteur. Making sure to sound as vague as possible. “But we’ve had inklings about what was coming for a few years.”

  The colonel nodded.

  “I see. I assume that means there are some hoarded piles of magic food out there to feed the incoming troops and the rest of the city.”

  We checked the drones and confirmed that several had made it to the surface. Far away from where the army and all the curious onlookers were currently gathering.

  One of those locations was near some kind of industrial center. One that had been recently abandoned. There were trucks there. Though it was impossible to say whether they were in any condition to run.

  “I am at liberty to release some emergency supplies.” We said, thinking of a plan on the spur of the moment. “Your men will have to be responsible to distributing it all though. They are all in a series of warehouses and the trucks were unfortunately not serviced as they should have been.”

  The Saboteur shrugged.

  “Some office drone is in for a beating I guess.”

  The colonel huffed.

  “Of course. Anything else would be too simple.” He sighed again. More deeply this time, though we could tell that a great burden left his sagging shoulders.

  “Welp. At least the brass wasn’t caught with their pants completely down. That’s something I guess.”

  He sighed yet another time.

  “Okay. I can work with this. Get me the locations and I’ll send my men out there to secure the food. And then contact whomever is in charge of this shitshow on your end to make sure the trucks keep coming in. I don’t need the civies starving on top of everything else that’s going on.”

  The Saboteur made all sorts of greasy, pleasing noises. All while we ruminated on how easy it had been to pull the secrecy excuse.

  ‘We’d expected at least some more pushback. Maybe even a few threats. How odd.’

  Instead, the colonel seemed mostly resigned and even somewhat happy. We searched his mind as well and saw the truth of the matter. Despite the ridiculous things being said, the corpse of the Distraction could not be denied. Moreover, he had family who had some trouble securing food for themselves and he did all he could to help them. But that did not mean he didn’t see where things were going and how much trouble it would be to feed all the new soldiers coming to the city.

  In truth, he was just happy someone had come with easy solutions. He did not need to worry about food anymore, so long we kept up our part and he did not need to worry about unknowns if there were a bunch of shadowy people above him making the tough decisions.

  ‘Too easy.’ We thought. ‘Too simple. Too trusting. But there is nothing for it. This is all we could have hoped for. This is good.’

  We sent more drones to the ends of the new tunnels. To gather the food we [Spawned] along the lengths over and over again so that the soldiers would find the food they sought when they got there. At the same time, we sent forth more and more transformed Saboteurs and Queens to the surface. To grow additional gardens and spread forth rumours of magic. Of the power people could gain if they descended into the Dungeon.

  ‘Oh. Yes.’ We thought. ‘The Dungeon grows deeper and we grow stronger. We birth more units and we create more ways for Casper to die. Soon.’

  We spoke to ourselves. Looking with four eyes at the new Skill we had devised.

  “Soon.”