The big castle doors bang shut with finality. The lights dim and take on a pearlescent sheen, amping up the underwater vibe. A single spotlight shines on the balcony above ours. Herald and I turn and crane our necks to see who the spotlight is for.

  None other than Lorelei, Lethe’s goddess of song and sea, steps into the spotlight. She’s an NPC that can only be summoned by one of her A-Tier acolytes–and their fee is lobby adjacent. Damn. There really wasn’t any expense spared for tonight’s event.

  “Welcome, my children, to the Festival of Fools.” The crowd cheered and clapped.

  Aaaand now I understand why this was the event that Jericho insist I join. What a peach.

  “As you may have noticed from the load screen, this event is a special one indeed. If you are here, that means that you have accepted the special terms and conditions that we sent out. You have accepted that there will be no access to prior skills, spells, or any other boons you may have unlocked on your traditional playthrough–though I will allow you access to your guild bases–assuming you can get to them. To ensure a fair play, all of you have reverted to level one.” Her eyes seemingly look at every single one of us one-by-one. I don’t know if it’s the lights or if it’s her makeup, but she looks hungry. Like she was picking her favorites from a buffet. “And lastly, none of you may leave under any circumstances until the Festival concludes.”

  The cheering subsides, replaced by murmurs of confusion.

  “What do you mean we can’t leave?” One of the braver players asked.

  Her beady sharklike eyes shift as slow as a statue. They practically creak. But Lorelei smiles on, her needle-like teeth glinting in her too big of mouth.

  “Oh? You signed the waiver, did you not? It sounds as though someone didn’t read the terms and conditions. I can assure you that the event coordinators used very specific language for this precise event. Now if you will–” Lorelei raises her hand like a conductor. Power concentrated in her fingers in the form of a silver conductor’s baton. As she waves it, silver threads attach themselves from player to player. Though sometimes it skips a few people.

  Herald and I notice the same thing at the same time. Thankfully, we both are wearing red, so our threads connect to each other and also every other person in red. It was the same for all of the other colors.

  “There aren’t many red shirts,” Herald remarks. Well shit. He was right. I wonder if that’ll put us at a disadvantage when whatever happens…happens.

  Lorelei swings her baton again. The skin around Herald’s mouth bubbles and drips. I watch as Herald’s lips melt off his face. His lips slide down his face at an angle and splat to the floor. Like wet spaghetti falling from a sideways dinner plate. I could feel warmth on my own mouth. I shakily pat the mush that was my lips before it too fell to the floor. Splatters of pinks, browns, purples and reds stain the formerly pristine marble.

  “There we go,” Lorelei cooed. “Much better. We’ve got a lot to cover, and I’m sure you all are very eager to get on your way.”

  Herald’s hand is shaking. So is mine. I grab his hand in mine, offering what little reassurance I can. He squeezes back and doesn’t let go.

  By game standards, this shouldn’t be able to happen. If this was the extent of the physical safety protocol removal we’d be fine but…but for some reason I feel like it isn’t. Something feels wrong.

  “I’ll return them to you when I am done speaking. Now, a little bookkeeping to answer some of your little questions.

  The world of Lethe is unavailable to the public for the duration of this event. Don’t worry. This is being broadcast live on the Acheron Network. If any of you attempt to leave or are involuntarily ejected from your WARP system, the neuro caps within the screen will, to put it ineloquently, fry your synapses. There is a chance that you will survive–though due to the painstaking work of the original Acheron designers, I would estimate chances of survival to be less than a 1% of a 1% chance. All of this to say, players, that this situation that you are in has dire consequences.

  The Festival of Fools is a series of four trials that you must overcome, and the first one begins after I finish speaking. Participation in the trials is mandatory, though the time between trials is yours to do with as you wish. Anyone who does not wish to participate in the trials will be forcefully ejected from their WARP device, and you may do so at any time. While it is possible for everyone to survive a trial, there will still be notable winners and losers from each one. They will be rewarded or punished as outlined by the specific trial.

  Your first trial is a triathlon. Once I conclude my message, a 14 day timer will begin. During this time, you must make your way to Pandemonia, the capital city of the Phyllosophalus Kingdom which I have graciously marked on your maps for the less cartographically minded. I will now allow you to ask one question, and then the timer will start. Now, who would like to ask their question?”

  It was a weird sensation, feeling my mouth regrowing on my face. Weirder than it melting off. If this is what people who gave birth went through, I wasn’t envious. But I wiggled my new mouth experimentally. It was seemingly back to normal. Despite having all of our mouths back, none of us made a sound.

  A silver clothed person, finally, raises their hand. They’re either brave or an idiot. I can see it shaking from here.

  “You may speak.”

  “Why us? I mean I understand why some of us are here,” I could clock them glaring at Phoebus in his little gold outfit a mile away. “But why the rest of us?”

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  Lorelei seems to mull it over, chewing on her words. The tip of her baton kept tapping on her ink blue lips.

  “I have heard your question. And I will reward your bravery. You will note a treasure chest in your inventory. However, I think it will be more fun for us if you figure it out in your own time. Safe travels, and welcome again to the Festival of Fools.”

  Wait, what the hell?

  I don’t think, I just react.

  “Run!” I shout to anyone that can hear me.

  The smears of lips on the ground bubble. Little arms grow from the corners of dropped smiles and frowns and begin to pull themselves up from the floor. The armed lips open, and rows of teeth glint in the pearlescent light. My own mouth smiles up at me before it sinks its teeth into my ankle.

  Lethe wasn’t supposed to hurt. Why did it hurt?!

  My scream isn’t the only one in the room. All around me, on all floors of the party tiny armed mouths gnash and masticate their way up and through any body that was within their reach.

  [[Player: Hawthorne has failed.]]

  [[Player: DiawatiBuggati has failed.]]

  [[Player: Grizzbones has failed.]]

  I equip the letter opener from my inventory and stab it through the lips, pinning it to the floor. Herald kicks his over the bannister and into the crowd. There was no time to worry about the others, but he winces all the same. Lorelei, that sick bitch, watches us all with a satisfied smile on her ethereal face. There’s blood in the water now, and it’s only a matter of time before she gives in to her more basic instincts. Our hands are still attached. I release him.

  “Follow me.” I order. Panicked, he listens.

  I had seen a set of servant’s stairs when I was wandering earlier. When I was looking through the window outside, I noticed that this room was at least a few stories up. We have to go down to get out. We round the corner at breakneck speed. I race down to the door that I had seen opening to a downwards staircase in. Thankfully it’s still open, and I don’t have to break my stride. Herald is still right behind me. We fly down spiral after spiral of stairs, and finally land on the bottom. Without hesitation, I rip open the door.

  We’ve reached the kitchen, which is fantastic news.

  We dodge past servers in eloquent formalwear and chefs in stained aprons. Built like a linebacker, I barrel over one of the chefs and scoop their knifeblock onto the cutting board full of vegetables they were chopping. Then I grab the cutting board that the knife block and vegetables are on and add it to my inventory. First rule of grinding, if you can pick it up, it’s going in the inventory. Then I run.

  Herald, guilt pockmarks his face. He pockets a rolling pin and some spices from a baker apologetically. He equips the rolling pin but puts the spices in his inventory and follows after me. I saw he had left an ornamental necklace on the counter where the rolling pin had been. It looks like I’m not the only one with a bleeding heart and sticky fingers. As expected from a fellow grinder. You never knew what could be important until it was. Dumb of him to leave that necklace behind though. It looked expensive.

  Angry kitchen workers yell at us as we run. One throws a jar of sauce in retaliation. The jar goes wide, but shatters on the door jamb leading out of the kitchen. Some of the sauce splashes on my pants.

  [[Buff applied: Lantern Light. As long as the [delectable sauce] remains on your person, you will glow faintly in a 10 ft radius. Effect ends when it has been completely washed away.]]

  True to its word, my leg lights up. I look like I have shoved a strip of LEDS in my pants

  I sawthat it was dark outside earlier, so I decide to pat the sauce and rub it into the other side of my pants to balance out the shine. It’s gross, but it might come in handy later. We pass through another door that leads to another hallway. One of the side doors was open, and I could see a bed inside as we breeze by. This must be the servant’s chambers. We turn down another hall at random. More hallways, more doors. Only one of which is open.

  To my knowledge, only a handful of event tickets were given to the top guilds, and even fewer were allowed to see the space. It was added in the last update, when a special, secret event (that I now realized was this bloodbath) was announced as well. None of us has access to any of the myriad of mapping tools either since we’ve been reverted to newbs, but Lorelei had mentioned “a fair play”. My working theory is that the open doors were the “fair play” response to the loss of all mapping skills. Why else would a distinct path of doors be open? We’re either headed to freedom…or death. But I’ll take a chance for good over a guarantee of bad any day of the week.

  For some reason I can’t see any distinct lines marking halls or walls on my minimap. When I look at it, all I see is a blank gray circle with indications for the cardinal directions and part of a yellow star to the northeast of us. Yellow stars are quest destination indicators. Each long hallway we run through reveals more of the star. It wasn’t much, but we were getting closer to Pandemonia.

  After a few minutes of running, Herald and I were wheezing violently and had to stop.

  “Ugh, I wish I had some water right now.” Herald, gripping his knees, only nods in return.

  It seems thirst and hunger are part of the physical safety protocols that were removed. A wave of nausea rolls over me, and I throw up right there on the floor. My drunkenness was becoming a hangover. Herald, still holding onto his right knee for dear life, grabs onto what hair he can pull away from my face as I too fight for my life.

  Jean’s a lucky woman.

  The world is wobbly around me as I right myself and wipe my mouth with my shirt sleeve. A migraine the size of a birthday balloon blooms in the center of my skull. Even my pants are bright enough to hurt my eyes. I close them for just a second or two. I can’t afford a full freakout. I don’t have time. But I can give myself a few seconds. As a treat. I notice that there’s a blinking exclamation point near my minimap, which indicates skill or character level ups. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the time to parse through it. I wasn’t into anal, and I couldn’t be sure that we didn’t have the lips on our asses.

  “Think…we’re clear?” He’s still wheezing.

  “Can’t tell you. Safer to keep moving.”

  We follow the impossibly long path of open doors for another thirty minutes at a power walk. It was 3AM in my timezone, later still in his. He had to be running on fumes at this point. I was. But to his credit, he wasn’t complaining at all. Instead, he puts his effort into quickly scanning the rooms and halls for things that catch his eye. I don’t pretend to understand him.

  As we walk he grabs a vial of what looked like teeth on a shelf, a set of chalk, and a set of very nice silverware. For what he won’t say, but it all goes in his inventory all the same. He points out a small chest on the floor that I should take if I can manage it. It feels like a distraction, a very obvious distraction. But it’s light enough for me to lift and we’re starting from scratch. I need everything I can get. So I put it in my inventory and don’t ask questions. He’s being suspicious as hell, but he’s also looking out for me. I’ll let him keep his secrets…for now.

  We find the exit when the full yellow star’s visible on our minimap. God I wish that I had my [[Trap Detection]] skill. Everything about this exit is giving trap. All that was missing was a promise from a Nigerian prince. If either of us had our skills, this wouldn’t be a problem. We both had max [[Trap Detection]]. And it was a fairly easy skill to gain. But the only problem, the biggest hurdle, really, was that the only way to get the [[Trap Detection]] skill…was to trigger a trap. Herald and I had the same thought at the same time.

  “Okay, so the door–”

  “Right? I know.”

  “So do you wanna…?” He was hesitant.

  In any other circumstances, both of us would jump at the chance for a new skill. New skills were advantageous. New skills could be the difference between a two day grind and a ten day grind. But now…now choices have weight. Repercussions. Depending on what kind of trap it was, we could both die.

  “Not really. You want it?”

  He shook his head. I sigh. I don’t want to play the role of guinea pig, but I’m not sure we could backtrack safely to another exit without getting eaten alive. Or stabbed by a disgruntled chef and fed to that sick fuck, Lorelei. How did they program the AI to do that, anyway? The mouth thing. It wasn’t a spell I was familiar with.

  “Fine,” I groan, “I’ll set off the trap, but you have to help. Check the rooms to see if there’s any curtains or something. I think I have an idea.”