Chapter 32 – Dungeon

Sal squinted when the sunlight hit him in the face. It had been quite some time since he had been outside of the workshop, and his internal body clock had no concept what time it was. Beside him on the platform was Chatfield and Upgrade, who spoke quietly to each other as they waited. They were at the landing bay of the Credit floor, just a few floors up from the workshop. Things were busy for a Sunday, with more than a dozen vehicles docked around the elevated platform.

It was like a semi-circular disk had been slid out of the side of the skyscraper, with railings around the sides and a protective barrier above them. Each of the flying constructs that wanted to dock had to position themselves over the barriers before descending into their assigned space. Sal would normally have loved the opportunity to study each of the cars and trucks, but there was no distracting him from the internal battle waging in his heart.

“Looks like this is us.”

Chatfield gestured at one of the descending cars that angled toward the reserved spaces on the right-hand side of the platform. The vehicles there all looked like personal-use crafts, and many of them were luxurious in appearance. The car that was landing for them was no exception, colored in sunshine yellow and engraved with what looked like protective runes across the doors. It didn’t make so much as a sound as it gently pressed against the ground.

Sal followed behind Chatfield and Upgrade, who approached the car. He wondered whether he could claim to be carsick and get them to abandon this idea but didn’t need to see Upgrade’s face to know that wasn’t an option. She was still being uncharacteristically quiet, displaying none of her usual mirth. Chatfield, on the other hand, was chattier than ever. He constantly threw little snippets of advice mixed in with facts about the place they were going to.

If Sal had any control over his emotions, he would have been listening to the lecturer intently. But as it was, he could barely manage to keep putting one foot in front of the other as they made their way to the car. A uniformed man with a relaxed smile stepped out of the vehicle and circled the car to open the passenger doors. Both doors opened outward to reveal a small table in the center of the interior, with plush seats on either side of it.

Upgrade stepped in first and sat on the left, with Chatfield sitting opposite her on the right. Sal suddenly had to pick which lecturer he was going to be facing for their flight and just a glance at their expressions was enough for him to make a snap decision. He sat beside Upgrade and looked across the table at Chatfield, who gave the driver instructions on their destination.

When the double doors closed, it started to feel real. He was leaving the academy to go to a dungeon, and it was a sickening thought.

“Salvatore, I have to admit, I’m impressed that you’re going through with this.” Chatfield smiled as he leaned back in his chair. He gestured across at Upgrade.

“I don’t know what’s happened that led to this, but I can sense the tension between the two of you. You need to put aside the useless thoughts and analyze the situation. I’ve known countless people like you, who have lived sheltered lives away from the reality of demons. Any parent would want that for their children, and I can’t fault yours for keeping you safe all these years. You’re an adult now, and it’s time to step out of your comfort zone. Upgrade and I will be right beside you, helping you every step of the way.”

Chatfield looked at Upgrade, who gave a curt nod of agreement. Chatfield paused for a moment before he laughed at her stoney reaction. “Come on, you can show him a sliver of humanity. He’s practically shitting himself.”

Sal turned his head and saw a slight break in Upgrade’s cold exterior.

Rather than turning to meet his gaze, she continued to look at Chatfield and gave a slight shake of her head. “We’re taking him into his first dungeon. I don’t want to give him a false sense of security that will make him complacent in the future. I need him on edge so his instincts are sharp. If it means being a bitch for a day, I’m more than happy to take on that role. I’d appreciate it if you weren’t so flippant with him either. This is a serious excursion for him and the first step toward him conquering his innate fear of demons.”

Her voice was steady, and Sal finally understood why she was being so cold toward him. The knowledge that he hadn’t done something wrong was heartwarming, and even managed to alleviate some of the gnawing doubts in his stomach. It was still lurching with dread, but a little less than before.

Chatfield sighed as he cupped his hands behind his head and stretched back in the chair. “Who would have ever guessed that I’d be good cop? Can’t say I disagree with you, though. I guess you get desensitized to it all after a while.” His gaze turned toward Sal, and his tone changed in pitch to something a little more somber. “Just do as we say and everything will work out great. You might even get some materials out of this.”

Chatfield glanced at Upgrade and laughed when he saw her glaring at him. Taking his hands away from his head, he presented her with his palms. “I’m not trying to distract him or make him complacent! It’s a fact. He’s a Crafter at the end of the day, and he’ll need materials to continue making quality equipment. Dungeons are naturally going to be a part of his future, so it’s no harm to keep him informed.”

“Or I could earn enough Q-Cred to buy all the materials I need,” Sal muttered with crossed arms.

He knew he was being petty, but he didn’t care. The whole thing seemed unfair to him, and even though they were both going out of their way to help him, he still felt like it was a punishment for being honest with them.

Chatfield laughed and shook his head. “Oh boy, you’ll have a hard time bankrolling the materials you’re going to need going forward. Doc Ameye, the Legendcrafter I mentioned yesterday…remember him?”

Sal nodded cautiously, wondering where Chatfield was going with this.

“Doc Ameye has spent the equivalent of over five million Q-Cred on his train. It’s a moving fortress that can kill literally anything it encounters, and the cost of constructing it all would have been astronomical if he had tried to purchase the materials outright. His ability is an inferior version of your Mythcrafter ability, so we can only assume that you’re going to run up even higher expenses.” Chatfield’s laugh suddenly turned humorless.

“Well, that is, unless you just whore out your ability to the highest bidder. That’ll speed up your earnings at the cost of your ethics.”

Upgrade shook her head as she looked out the window at the sprawling city below. “Sal isn’t going to end up like Doc Ameye. He wants to help people more than he wants to get rich. Most of Sal’s designs so far have been to cover his own weaknesses and to help his team. I can’t see him going down the route of Ameye Locomotives.”

Chatfield blinked in surprise before the smile crept back onto his face. “High praise. I guess time will tell.” He gave Sal a subtle wink before turning to look out the window, too.

Sal didn’t know how to interpret Upgrade’s words but it sounded like she had faith in him, which was a small solace. He turned to his right to look out the window and was amazed to see how fast their car moved through the air. Despite the twists and turns of its flight pattern, there was no jostling sensation in the interior.

Ruined buildings rose into the sky all around them, some of which had been reclaimed by the elements, with trees growing out of long-shattered glass. Some of the structures were coated completely in a vibrant green moss, indicating the length of time since they had last been inhabited. It didn’t look like they were in a Red Zone, but rather an unoccupied Reclaimed Zone. The streets had been cleared roughly, with wreckage pushed to the sides.

Sal didn’t have an opportunity to study any of the locations in great detail as their car moved swiftly between the wrecked skyscrapers. He did catch movement a few times, and was relieved to see what looked like small settlements of people who had repopulated segments of the city.

“Why aren’t there more people around these parts?” Sal asked as he tried to get a closer look at the settlements.

Chatfield sighed and gave a slight shrug. “Fear, for the most part. The dungeons in this area have been cut off from their source of power, which has essentially neutered them and made them a good training ground for Trainee Heroes. We’ve calculated their regeneration and spawn rates, so we’re never at risk of them growing too strong and breaking through the surrounding barrier. It’s a hard sell to people, though, who don’t want to be anywhere near an active dungeon. The United Guilds Association has dropped the land prices dramatically in the area, but nobody is biting. Some rookie guilds purchased land here, but they lack the resources and manpower to restore the buildings. Even if they could do that, there isn’t a healthy economy in this region. You’d need to travel around just to get necessities. The only thing that will change this terrain is if a big player was to make it their central hub.”

Chatfield spoke as if it were common knowledge. When he turned around to Sal, he gave him a wistful smile. “Lots of people are terrified of demons, Sal. Living next door to one isn’t that appealing. But living next door to a powerful guild is a different story. Everyone would flock to the location, and it would transform the entire area.”

Sal nodded in understanding but was curious as to how many refugees they would be able to hold if they were properly restored. It was more of an idle thought, as he didn’t even know how big the Darwin Cruise Liners were or how many people they held. His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden change of scenery.

His sense of dread bubbled up as the car descended toward the ground. The tiny specks that had been barely visible from above grew into people milling around the area. It was a stark contrast to everything else he had seen up until this point, with the area looking most like the canteen during peak hours. People were gathered into groups, wearing an assortment of cloth and metal armors. Pop-up vendors stood to one side, shouting out the names of their products in the hopes of enticing a nearby Hero.

It was chaos, and Sal had no intention of being a part of it. That decision wasn’t in his hands, though, as the doors opened on his left, to allow Upgrade and Chatfield to exit the vehicle. Sal sat in the plush interior for a few moments more as he tried to steel his resolve for the hundredth time.

Chatfield’s face appeared as he leaned down to look into the car. “If you want to vomit, there’s a section over there that’s perfect. Really heightens the senses.”

Sal ignored him as he shuffled across the seats to exit the car.

Chatfield gestured toward the small case on the table. “Don’t want to go into the dungeon without your gun and visor, do you?”

Sal sighed as he grabbed the case by its handle and stepped out of the car. Their driver closed the doors after him and indicated to Chatfield where he would be parked. Sal’s grip tightened on the handle as he made eye contact with the huge sign overhead.

“Evergreen Subway Dungeon.”

Upgrade appeared beside him and spoke softly, so that only he would hear. “You’ve got this, Sal. It’ll be over before you know it.”