“Somebody switch that off now! It’s completely vile.” Kobold Karen’s nostrils flared wide. If she were a cartoon, Joe thought, there’d be smoke pouring out of her ears.

  Stoner Homer sprang to his feet, clutching his chest dramatically as if struck by an invisible bolt of outrage. “Won’t someone please think of the children!” he wailed, his arms flailing as he staggered back toward his seat. He flopped down with exaggerated flair, letting out a dry laugh, clearly poking fun at her.

  Karen bared her teeth, looking like she was ready to tear strips off him, but Homer turned his grim fascination back to the screen. Joe couldn’t blame him. The scene playing out was stomach-turning—a high-budget horror show where the special effects were just a little too real.

  Joe stood up, feeling like he’d slipped out of his body. His whole world tilted on its axis, leaving his stomach somewhere in the lower floors. Ryan rose in silence beside him, and one by one, the rest of the factions followed suit. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the screens.

  Joe had seen his fair share of horror movies, but this? This was different. What played across every screen in the common room was something closer to body horror on steroids, the kind of grotesque imagery that made you question reality itself. His stomach churned as he took in the twisted, mutated bodies floating in vats of pink, glowing fluid.

  The silence was finally broken by Stoner Homer. “Welp, they say a picture paints a thousand words. This one’s a bloody novel, ain’t it?”

  Kobold Karen scowled. “You… disgust me!” She turned away, only to be whispered to by one of her faction members. Her frown vanished, replaced by something sharper, and her gaze landed on Joe—not by accident.

  It was high school all over again, and he was the unfortunate target of a mean-girl stare-down. Joe shoved the feeling aside and forced his attention back to the screen, where the horror show continued.

  The twisted sea of bodies—if you could call them that—floated in the vats, their malformed limbs and distorted features illuminated by the eerie glow. They looked humanoid but…wrong. The camera panned, zooming in on details Joe would’ve preferred not to see. Some were small enough to be infants, others as tall as Brian. Hairless, with their skin stretched taut or rippled with unnatural growths. Jaws unhinged like snakes. Organs growing on the outside. Extra fingers. Limbs where there shouldn’t be limbs. The worst part? They all looked like they were stuck in some sort of nightmare, floating there, unmoving but not at peace.

  “Looks like the lich fancies himself as a bit of a Victor Frankenstein.” Dawn’s tone was light, but she put a comforting arm around Rose, who looked pale and distressed. “You alright?”

  Rose stifled a sob. “What happened to them?”

  Joe didn’t have the answers. He turned inward, reaching for Halcyon. “You ever come across anything like this?”

  Silence. Halcyon didn’t answer.

  The camera pulled back, then zoomed in on a familiar face encased in glass. Joe’s heart stuttered. “Luna?”

  The screen shifted to another angle, revealing a disturbing progression. What started as deformed, barely humanoid clones grew less grotesque with each iteration. The youngest were too malformed to survive long. The older ones—if you could call them that—looked sturdier, as though the lich was perfecting his craft.

  The Time Hacker’s voice cut through the room like a knife. “This is the lich’s body of work. The secret he doesn’t want you to see. Aren’t you curious to know why?”

  Before anyone could react, the room plunged into darkness. Red emergency lights flickered on, casting everything in a bloody glow. A tense few seconds passed before the environmental controls restored the lighting, but the damage was done. The screens now showed the lich himself.

  “Fake images. Lies.” His hollow eyes burning with fury. “The tide of mana is rising, and you all have better things to do than sit here and gossip.” His gaze locked onto Kobold Karen, his stare so sharp it could’ve sliced through stone.

  Karen planted her hands on her hips, exaggerating her swagger as she jabbed a finger at the screen. “Please don’t insult our intelligence.”

  “She does that just by existing.” Dawn shook her head.

  Joe couldn’t help it—he laughed, the sound breaking through the heavy tension. For a moment, the weight of what they’d just seen lifted, but the image of Luna in that glass casket lingered in the back of his mind, refusing to let go.

  The Lich sneered, his hollow eyes narrowing. “I wouldn’t dream of insulting anyone’s intelligence, although I would question yours if you think nagging me is the smart way to use your second chance at existence.”

  Karen’s jaw dropped, her expression the picture of offended disbelief.

  The Lich pulled out a note with a flourish, the brittle parchment crackling in his bony hand. “Yes, yes, Poppy gave me every single one of your complaints.” He peered down, his tone dripping with mockery. “I particularly enjoyed this one about the shared toilets smelling of cat’s pee, so I printed it off.”

  Karen huffed, crossing her arms. “I never received a response to any of them, even after my helpful suggestion to add fruit bat and sea otter potpourri in little bowls in each bathroom.” She glared, her nostrils flaring when he didn’t immediately reply. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself? How do you expect us to stay in this shambles of a tower?”

  “Sheesh, wish she’d give it a rest,” said an armchair anarchist, gesturing lazily at the screen. “This is a prison, not a hotel. We’ll all get in trouble or end up like those old fogies being stored in vats of pink goo.”

  The Lich’s empty sockets locked onto the anarchist. The note crumpled in his skeletal fist before he hurled it at the screen. The room’s temperature dropped, and Joe shivered as goosebumps rippled over his skin.

  “I told you that ‘video nasty’ was a lie,” the Lich’s voice rasped like nails dragged over ice. “There is a gremlin playing tricks. You may know him as the ‘Time Hacker,’ but it is merely a ghost in the machine that is soon to be exorcised. Don’t get too attached to anything it’s told you—no more than you would believe in fairy tale creatures.”

  Joe glanced around the room. The Lich’s attempt to reduce the Time Hacker to some glitchy system bot was working on some of the ascenders. They exchanged uncertain looks, clearly swayed by his words.

  The armchair anarchists and Drama Queens didn’t look convinced. Neither was Joe. He’d met the Time Hacker in person. That guy was no more a glitchy system bot than the Lich was an honest or likable person.

  Joe opened the alliance party chat.

  Joe: Hey, POKE_Master, you got our attention with that gruesome video. Was that taken inside the tower?

  No answer.

  Minutes ticked by, the silence stretching while the Lich droned on about the “growing time crystal pot of immortality,” pitching it like some kind of infomercial. Joe’s fists clenched under the table, frustration building. The urge to punch the screen was almost unbearable.

  The Lich lies, Halcyon hissed in Joe’s mind, his tone sharp and certain.

  As if sensing Joe’s scrutiny, the Lich shifted his gaze toward him. “All you slackers and anarchists should really take a leaf out of Ascender 58’s book. He hasn’t let the fact that he’s spent most of his time between the Orange and Red Zones hold him or his faction back. I was beginning to think he had mummy issues after he took down Scaldera while she was sitting on her eggs and Drillmaw while giving birth to those adorable larvae. I was disappointed he didn’t get involved with Lunara. And so here we are, with the first Titan to survive…it was a little mundane. I want much more…violence.”

  A message notification appeared, and Joe’s heart leapt. He held his breath, hoping it was the Time Hacker replying.

  Brian: We are making good progress, but it will take a few more hours to perfect the breakthrough pill and test it. If you’re ready to head onto the floor, go ahead, and we’ll catch up when we’re done here.

  Joe sighed, the anticipation deflating.

  If the Lich wanted them out of here, then he wouldn’t care if they left during his speech. The Titan Slayers had better things to do than to listen to any more lies.

  ***

  Joe steadied himself as the bizarre gravity tugged at his body, pulling him in multiple directions at once. His legs wobbled like a rookie on roller skates, and he glanced at the others, "Who designed this place, a drunken architect?"

  TJ didn’t look much better. His face had gone a shade of green that even the local flora might find offensive. Dawn, always prepared, handed him a flask without a word. TJ took it, pinching the bridge of his nose before taking a swig. "How are we supposed to get anywhere when up is down, and down is sideways?" He groaned, gesturing wildly to the topsy-turvy landscape around them.

  Joe followed his gaze, letting out a low whistle. The ground stretched out like someone had taken a jungle and ironed it onto the ceiling. Roots dangled down like nature’s own chandeliers, swaying in the tug-of-war between gravity and the roaring wind tunnel in the distance. Orange monkeys clung to the roots with an almost panicked determination, their fur flaring like tiny warning flags as they avoided being sucked into the chaotic vortex.

  Dawn was already checking her map, her brow furrowed with concentration. Joe gave her a quick glance, noting her calm despite the madness. She pointed straight ahead toward what looked like a jagged cliff face.

  "Is that where Gorilla Zilla is?" Rose’s eyes flicked between Dawn and Nick, both of whom were focused on their map interfaces. Her voice carried a mix of awe and apprehension.

  "Yes," Dawn replied curtly.

  Nick, on the other hand, looked up with a rare spark of excitement. "And I wish the others were here to see this. A titan like this will be majestic."

  "They’ll be jealous. Especially Gaia. Pity we can’t take pictures." TJ didn’t mask the sarcasm, though his machete glinted in his hand as a warning to the screeching orange monkeys above. Their chattering rose to a crescendo loud enough to cut through the howling winds, but they didn’t dare come closer.

  Joe’s gaze darted to the wind tunnel as it roared louder. It seemed like the environment itself was trying to pick a fight. His stomach dropped as he grabbed a dangling root to steady himself, the force nearly yanking him off his feet despite his scaler buff. "Given this lovely little death trap, I don’t think Brian or the rest of the Blanch Brigade are missing out," he said, his voice half-drowned by the wind.

  “Ryan’s got his hands full with the anarchists, he’d probably like it here better.” Hair whipping around her face, Rose pointed her staff toward the otherside. “It’s just like the symbols, the Shinto temple entrance.” She gritted her teeth, each step pressing forward against the wind. “Only a little bit further.”

  TJ grumbled raising his machete to balance himself. “If it weren’t for those greasy handed monkey’s watching, this’d be a walk in the park.”

  “They’re not attacking, so sheath your blade and focus.” Dawn groaned. “The map shows we’re not far from passing the high winds.”

  Nick shook his head. “We only need to get to the coordinates on my map. Lunara’s waiting for us there.”

  A screech cut through the wind just before a monkey hurled something at Joe. He sidestepped it, Quick Wit kicking in as the projectile splattered behind him. TJ wasn’t so lucky. A wet, brown glob hit his boot with a disgusting squelch.

  “Oh, come on!” TJ shook his foot, banana flinging through the air. “You dung-slinging flea farms better cut it out, or I’ll have Dawn flame your furry asses with her ring of fire!”

  Joe smirked but didn’t dare laugh.

  Each step toward the temple got tougher, the wind clawing at them like it had a personal grudge. The monkeys thinned out, and so did the roots and vines, leaving them exposed on barren ground. The howling wind tore at their clothes, and the cliff edge was now uncomfortably close.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The gusts turned feral, shoving Joe sideways. He dropped to a crouch, planting his hands on the ground for balance. “This wind has it out for us.” The temple loomed closer, but the screaming vortex ahead threatened to fling them all into oblivion.

  “We’ll be blown straight off the cliff!” Nick shouted, his voice barely cutting through the chaos. “And the map says it’s a sheer drop on the other side. Gravity’s no help there—we’re toast if we fall.”

  Joe gritted his teeth. “We need a plan.”

  Rose stabbed her staff into the ground and closed her eyes. The air shifted, a low hum cutting through the wind.

  Joe glanced over. “Uh, Rose? Now’s not the time for meditation.”

  Her eyes snapped open, a determined glint in them. “There’s water down there. Deep, but close enough.”

  “Can you whip up a water barrier strong enough to protect us?”

  Rose didn’t answer, already weaving her magic. The ground shuddered, and a cool mist began to rise. Within seconds, droplets swirled and formed a shimmering dome around them. The winds hammered at the water, but inside, it remained calm.

  Joe sighed.

  “This’ll keep us from flying off the edge,” Rose said, her voice strained. “But I can’t hold it for long. Move.”

  They pushed forward, the barrier shifting with them.

  Nick’s voice came, low and shaky. “This wind...it’s not natural.”

  Robyn squinted at him. “What do you mean?”

  Nick gestured toward the vortex, his face pale. “It’s Gorilla Zilla. His aura—this wind tunnel—it’s his way of marking his territory.”

  “And right now, we’re balls deep inside it.” TJ pulled up his hood.

  As if to prove his point, the wind intensified, slamming against Rose’s barrier with enough force to make the water ripple and groan. Rose staggered, and Dawn darted forward to steady her.

  Robyn groaned, ducking as a gust swept over them. “So, what’s this guy been eating to get this gassy?”

  By the time they reached the temple entrance, Rose looked exhausted. Under its grand arches, they were temporarily shielded from the relentless winds. Joe marveled at how the temple seemed to defy gravity, perched precariously on the edge of the cliff.

  Robyn stuck close to TJ, his eyes darting to the steps they had just climbed. He turned to face the massive golden doors and frowned. “We cannot enter the temple.”

  Joe had anticipated this. He glanced at Dawn, who shrugged. “I only have access to Nerus temples.” She gestured at the banana-shaped handles on the doors. “Whoever this god is, they’ve got a weird sense of humor.”

  “He’s a trickster,” said Robyn.

  A deep, booming voice rang out. “I’m going to get you.”

  Joe stepped forward and tugged on the banana-shaped handles, but the doors refused to budge.

  “I’m going to strip you,” the voice boomed louder this time.

  TJ grabbed the handles and gave them a hard yank. The frame shook, but the doors remained firmly shut.

  “Open sesame.” Dawn tilted her head to the side. When nothing happened, she turned to Joe with a sheepish grin. “Worth a try.”

  Robyn stepped back, studying the carvings on the temple walls. “Only worshipers of the god can enter.”

  The voice grew even louder, accompanied by the distant figure of something massive bounding toward them. “I’m going to eat you.”

  Nick placed a hand on the door and called out, “By the blessing of the twin heralds of Lunara, I command you to open.”

  For a moment, nothing happened. Then, angelic voices swirled around them, and Myric and Asha materialized in a flurry of golden light and playful energy.

  Myric bowed. “I’m afraid we don’t have the power to open those doors, but we know someone who does.”

  Beside her, Asha laughed. “Good luck with that. Jerry’s got a hard-on for rules.”

  “Jerry?” Rose suppressed a smile.

  “The temple keeper.” Asha nodded. “Takes his job very seriously. You’re not worshipers, so he won’t answer your call.”

  “He will answer to us, though, dearest sister.” Myric gave her a sly grin.

  “True, but they’ll have to answer a damn hard question.” Asha tapped her nose. “And failure’s a bitch.”

  Joe crossed his arms. “Define ‘failure’ for me.”

  “You’ll be flung over the cliff edge.” Asha mimed a falling body and added a splat sound effect, complete with a goofy grin.

  Robyn gulped, his small shoulders drooping. “There’s a banana in there we need for Gorilla Zilla.” He gestured to the now-visible giant gorilla bounding toward them. The beast was growing larger by the second.

  Joe turned to Asha. “We’ll take our chances.”

  “Very well.” Asha snapped her fingers. “Jerry, you owe Myric a favor.”

  A bald man in yellow robes appeared, looking like a banana in human form. He bowed low to the fairies before turning to the group with an air of condescension. “As a favor, I can grant you a visitor pass, but one of you must prove your worth by answering a question of my choosing.”

  The group nodded, but Jerry raised a finger. “If you get the question wrong or hesitate to answer, you will be flung into the abyss below this temple. A limbo from which there is no return.”

  Joe didn’t like the sound of that. Would they be stuck there indefinitely, unable to leave or respawn? He shook off the thought and nodded. “Proceed.”

  Jerry clasped his hands, his eyes scanning the group as if savoring the moment. “If an unladen Zephyr Jay is tasked with carrying a mana-infused coconut along a ley line, what mana resonance must it maintain to stay in perfect alignment as the wind shifts east?”

  Joe’s stomach flipped. He had no idea.

  Nick stepped forward with a confident smile. “Wait, Jerry. Are you talking about an unladen juvenile Zephyr Jay or a mature one? Because, you know, they’d have totally different resonance thresholds for carrying coconuts.”

  Jerry’s serene expression faltered. He opened his mouth, visibly confused. “Uh...I...well...”

  A loud game show buzzer echoed through the air. Jerry yelped as a gust of wind swept him up, flinging him over the temple and into the abyss below. His cries faded into the distance.

  The heavy temple doors creaked open, and a glowing visitor pass icon appeared over the entrance.

  Asha clapped her hands. “Not gonna lie, I thought you were goosed, but you broke his brain. There’s a bug in the system—hesitation counts as failure. What a joke.”

  “Indeed.” Myric grinned. “A trick played back on a servant of a trickster god. Fitting, wouldn’t you say?”

  Joe barely had time to reply before Gorilla Zilla leapt onto the steps, his shadow swallowing them whole. “Let’s grab that banana before he grabs us and tries to peel us like one!”

  “Good luck, and watch out for life’s banana peels,” Myric and Asha sang in unison before vanishing in a cloud of rainbow bubbles and laughter.

  Inside the temple, the group dashed forward. Robyn pointed to the wall, where the golden banana gleamed, stuck in place with shimmering silver duct tape.

  The fairies hadn’t been joking—the floor was littered with banana peels.

  Robyn sniffed the air, his whiskers trembling, and took a nervous step back. TJ gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

  TJ looked ready to kick the nearest banana peel out of the way with his boot, but Robyn grabbed his arm. “Don’t touch them. You slip, you die.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up. I haven’t come this far to end up on my ass.” TJ glanced at the floor. “Not a big problem for kobolds. Man, I really miss my scaly tail.”

  Joe frowned, eyeing the littered banana peels. “Why are these even here?”

  Robyn scratched his jaw, his tail twitching. “Hmm. Not all banana peels are real. Some are illusions. True worshipers of the trickster god can tell which is which.”

  “Can you tell using your skill?” Joe crouched, inspecting the peels.

  Robyn shook his head. “No. As a visitor, I’m blocked. This is as far as we’re allowed to go.”

  Mist swirled around Rose’s staff, and she smiled. “Time for a clean sweep.” A jet of water shot out, washing over the peels. They didn’t budge.

  Joe scanned the room for anything flammable, but the temple and altar were all stone. He nodded to Dawn, who stepped forward, flames sparking from her hand. The fire roared to life and danced over the peels, but they remained in place.

  “They’re resistant. It was worth a shot.” Joe turned to Robyn. “Are these banana peels wind-affinity traps?”

  Robyn narrowed his eyes, studying them before nodding. “Yes. Wind affinity all the way.”

  “Since we can’t tell which ones are real, we’ll need an earth-affinity countermeasure to clear a path.” Joe raised an eyebrow at Robyn.

  The little ratfolk patted his belly with a toothy grin. “Perhaps I could eat them.”

  Activating his Iron Stomach skill, Robyn picked up one of the banana peels. Nothing happened. He sniffed it once, then stuffed it into his mouth and swallowed without chewing.

  Joe blinked. “That’s...efficient.”

  With his tail swishing, Robyn cleared a path one peel at a time, munching on each like a gourmet snack. By the time he reached the giant banana taped to the wall, the room was clear.

  Robyn clasped his hands together, his eyes wide with reverence. “It’s a work of art. Such a shame we have to remove it.”

  TJ stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Art? It’s a banana stuck to a wall with duct tape. I think all those banana peels you ate are messing with your head.”

  “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Rose planted her staff, admiring the yellow fruit.

  Dawn sighed. “I appreciate art as much as the next guy, but I wouldn’t pay a penny for this piece.” She stepped up and grabbed the banana, trying to peel away the tape. It didn’t budge.

  TJ grinned and flexed his fingers. “Allow me...” He tugged with all his strength, but the tape held firm.

  Joe turned to Nick. “You answered Jerry’s question. Maybe this is an Arthur and the sword-in-the-stone moment.”

  Nick raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Arthur?” He waved off Joe’s explanation and stepped forward. With a look of intense concentration, he grabbed the tape and pulled. To everyone’s surprise, the tape gave way, and he held the golden banana aloft.

  The moment he did, laughter echoed through the temple. The floor trembled, then began to crumble beneath their feet.

  “Time to split.” Halcyon chuckled at his own pun in his mind.

  The group bolted back the way they came. Rose cast a water shield behind them, deflecting falling debris as they fled outside.

  “Phew.” Robyn wiped his brow with an exaggerated flourish. “I thought he’d be waiting at the entrance, ready to pound us into paste.”

  Gorilla Zilla, now halfway down the massive stone steps, pounded his chest like a pro wrestler hyping up an arena. Every movement screamed, “I’m the main event,” but Joe couldn’t help noticing something odd. The titan’s gaze kept darting around, as though he was expecting an audience of ascenders to challenge him or cheer him on. Joe scanned the area, left and right. Not a single soul in sight.

  Joe tilted his head, an idea bubbling to the surface. Does he… not have object permanence? Like one of those NPCs in a game where if you hide behind a rock, they’re like, ‘Oh well, guess the threat’s gone forever.’

  Nick pointed to the scroll clutched in the titan’s oversized hand. “It’s all posturing. He’s sending a message: stay away. Unfortunately, we need to get his attention, and once we’re in range, he’ll absolutely try to kill us again.”

  Joe’s eyes flicked to the scroll, which looked like a flimsy toothpick compared to the titan’s massive grip. His rogue instincts whispered about Glitch Flick, but scaling a giant to wrestle a scroll free? That was a VIP ticket to Pancaketown.

  “Out of sight, out of mind.” Joe flashed a grin. “Let’s give him something else to think about.” He gestured to Nick. “You up for playing fetch?”

  Nick nodded, pulling out the golden banana. With a practiced throw, he hurled it high into the air. Gorilla Zilla’s head snapped up, his beady eyes locking onto the shiny bait. “BANANA! I’m gonna get ya!” the titan roared, dropping the scroll as he lunged for the fruit. The forgotten scroll rolled a few feet away, unnoticed.

  “Now!” Joe activated Shadow Step. He darted forward, the others close behind. With a quick grab, Joe scooped up the scroll, which was almost as long as Rose’s staff. He shoved it into his inventory, freeing his hands for whatever came next.

  “Nice bait and switch,” Dawn said, her tone dry but impressed, as they bolted past the distracted titan.

  A notification popped into his view:

  [Bonus Rewards for rogue class.]

  [Quick Wit Level 6! Ability Glitch Flick improved - Swift Object Manipulation.]

  Behind them, Gorilla Zilla was fully engrossed in peeling the banana. “I’m gonna strip ya,” the titan muttered, his voice dripping with childlike glee. The wind aura around him fizzled out completely as his focus narrowed to the fruit in his hands.

  “I’m gonna eat ya!” he bellowed, taking a massive bite. Joe didn’t stick around to see the aftermath—he was too busy putting as much distance as possible between them and the titan.

  Another notification appeared:

  [Congratulations! You have returned Gorilla Zilla’s prized artifact, the Golden Banana. As a reward, he will unlock the 8th floor instead of killing you.]

  Joe’s relief was short-lived as a follow up notification appeared, this one with an ominous timer:

  [Rising tide of mana becomes incompatible with life in: 00:30.]

  Dawn tapped Joe’s shoulder, her voice sharp. “We’d better check that scroll before anyone else sees us.”

  Joe glanced over his shoulder, a chill prickling his spine as if they were being watched. He shook it off, blaming the wind’s eerie whispers. The group huddled together, with Robyn keeping watch.

  Joe unrolled the scroll like a carpet across the barren ground. Above them, the orange monkeys hooted, their chatter fading as the winds calmed.

  “What do you make of this?” Joe asked, his tone casual, though a nervous edge crept into his voice. The scroll was blank. Completely, maddeningly blank.

  “It’s blank.” TJ grumbled. “What good is a blank scroll? We should’ve kept the banana and sold it to some green zoner with more time than sense.”

  “Too late.” Joe pointed toward the distant titan. Gorilla Zilla was now happily devouring the banana, his gleeful roars echoing across the canyon.

  “Appearances can be deceiving.” Dawn nudged Robyn. “Can you use your truth skill to check if it’s really blank?”

  Robyn squinted at the scroll, his small frame tense with concentration. “There’s a hidden message,” he said finally. “It’s magic ink. Needs light behind it.”

  Dawn’s hand glowed as she held it over the scroll. “Allow me.”

  Joe’s mind buzzed as the light revealed faint writing on the scroll.

  They had less than thirty minutes left on this floor before the rising mana levels would become lethal. But the real kicker? If they moved to the next floor, the number of rare-tier loot boxes would double from 16 to 32—and the scroll made it clear that only 16 keys existed. Half the boxes would remain sealed, and if left unopened, they’d go boom on the eighth floor.

  The pressure mounted on his chest. They couldn’t afford to mess this up. The only way to avoid disaster was to use the keys while there were only 16 boxes—here on the seventh floor—before the mana poisoned them all.

  He opened his alliance chat, typing fast and tagging the ascenders he trusted to pull this off.

  Joe: Meet me in the 7th floor common room ASAP