Impossible to miss was the colossal rust-colored rock spire in the middle of a sea of jagged rocks imitating saw-blades poking through the ground. Whoever built that is clearly compensating for something.

  I stuck my hands in my pockets, looking for my gun. But I couldn’t find it. Then I slapped my forehead. “Ow. Okay, note to self: don’t do that with metal arms. But how could I’ve forgotten that I lost my gun running away from the town on the second floor?” I sighed. “Whatever. I’ll just have to try to get a new one later.”

  At least you aren’t unarmed. You now have a permanent weapon at all times.

  I kept my head on a swivel as I bobbed and weaved through the deathly rocky wasteland towards the tower. My arm blade will have to suffice. I need the practice with it anyway. It’ll be fine for me to stick my head in, see what this place is like, and leave for the town and resupply.

  It wasn’t just the size that was imposing—it was the organic nature of the structure. From a distance, it appeared to be growing out of the ground. The stone was rough and craggy, honeycombed with patterns of windows. It looked very much like a gargantuan termite nest.

  One of my teachers in school loved termites. He’s the only person who went into natural science to study engineering. Unfortunately, it didn’t pay the bills, and he had to get a real job. But everyone loved to get him talking about those towers. Unfortunately, he knew what people were doing and never once put a question about termites on his tests. Who played who?

  But why a termite hill? It seems a rather odd choice to model a building after.

  Termite mounds are surprisingly effective for survival, despite their outward appearance. The complex structure you’re seeing is designed to serve several key purposes, most notably defense and environmental regulation.

  Yeah. Termites would make the wall of their mounds by mixing dirt with their saliva and excrement. It gives them that outer crust that’s not only protective but self-repairing, thanks to the materials used.

  I nodded at some of the small holes at the top. Those are the ventilation shafts, aren’t they?

  Correct. The ventilation system in a mound not only served to cycle fresh air, but regulate temperature at the same time. Also, if built with reservoirs, they can also be used to condense and collect water from the atmosphere.

  Not bad. If they could find a reliable source of food, you could have an entire self-sufficient town in something like this. There’d even be the option to expand downward into the ground. But it looks like I’ve got more bugs in my future. Going from spiders to termites seems like an odd progression.

  I made it to the base, where a large double door made of solid steel greeted me. Heavy scratches decorated the metal and the stone around it.

  Something attempted to get inside. If you wish to inquire on what attempted to get inside, we have insufficient information.

  If something tried to get in, that most means something else is inside already.

  I walked up, and since there were no guards outside or handles. Pushing on it didn’t get me anywhere. Curious about how thick the door was, I knocked. Before I could guess or get an answer from Orange, a tiny slider opened up to reveal a window to reveal a trio of beady little eyes staring at me.

  “Whatcha wantin’?” a shrill voice asked.

  It’s not a dungeon? Okay…

  Since you’re here, it would be beneficial for you to restock now before you attempt a dungeon.

  I took a step back and held up my arms. The creature or person, who peered at me through that small opening was unlike any I had encountered before. Their features were a curious blend of insect and mineral. Their exoskeleton glistened with a bronze-metallic hue. The three solid black eyes blinked independently, creeping me out. Their mouths consisted of jagged, crystalline fangs and mandibles.

  There was enough of a gap to see past into the dimly lit space behind the window. I could see that the doorkeeper had an elongated and segmented body, almost like a centipede. Bugs—it had to be bugs. At least they aren’t spiders.

  “I...uh... I’m looking to get inside.” I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

  The trio eyes blinked one after another. “Why are ya here, metal-armed one?” its crystalline mandibles clinking as it spoke. “I’ve never seen one like ya before. Ya a new arrival?”

  I bit my lip. “I’m a human.” Maybe I might resupply here. It may have to wait for what we find here. “Yes, I’ve just arrived on this floor.”

  There was scratching at the ground on the other side of the door, but I dared not take my eyes off the one talking to me. “A climber?” There was a loud bang on the door. “Good, good. Ya can enter. We need more hands.”

  The door, far too massive for me to handle alone, creaked open, revealing the strange alien creature within.

  It really looks like a centipede with metal coating parts of its body. I stepped in, and the creature closed the door behind me and slammed a metal bar, locking the doors shut.

  I pointed at the door. “What are you trying to keep out with that? And more hands for what?”

  The creature rose up half of its body, which forced me to look up at the creature’s face two feet above me. I swallowed hard. Was that a stupid question?

  I scratched the back of my head. “You see, I’m new to the floor, and, uh, I could use some help. Also, I’ve never seen anything like you before. What are you?”

  It clicked its mandibles at me but didn’t say anything right away. Although it didn't look upset, more like it was studying me. I should’ve stayed outside, shouldn’t I?

  “I haven’t seen anything like ya either, ‘human.’ But I’m just the guard. Others will help you.”

  “You’ll have to excuse her,” a smooth voice called from behind me. “For a centicrad, she’s quite forgetful. Spending all day and everyday at one spot may stunt one’s mental acuity.”

  I turned and noticed that the place wasn’t dark but was illuminated by a fairly glowing blue crystal vein running through the ceiling. Even with everything covered in blue light, I could see colors just fine. The voice belonged to someone with ruby-red scales instead of skin. He had an elongated snout lined with a row of sharp teeth. His yellow reptilian eyes eyed me up and down.

  He was wearing a robe of a darker red than his scales, with two sashes lined with pouches criss-crossing over his chest. He also had leather gloves that left his fingertips and short claws exposed. On the wrist of each glove, a small pouch sat as well. This guy likes his pockets.

  He gave a slight bow. “Welcome to hell.” His voice was pleasantly deep. Kind of like the father I never had but always wanted.

  My eyes went wide. I know I died once, but hell? “Seriously?”

  He shrugged. “Eh, kinda. It’s more of a metaphorical hell.” He held out his right hand. “Igzad Anshay Zoddon.”

  I took a quick look back at the metallic centipede and saw her, as the guy claimed, ignoring us and curled up in a coil watching the door. I stepped up to the man and slowly extended my non-bladed left arm. “Rina.”

  He wrinkled his forehead and then looked at my right arm. There was a quick nod before he switched hands and shook mine. “So you’re a human? Interesting choice of armor. I kind of expected you to cover your torso, given the number of important organs there and all.”

  “It’s a really long story.” I pulled my hand back once I recognized he was studying it. My eyes then started darting everywhere, noticing the tunnels and many branching halls. “Can you explain a bit of what’s going on? I don’t know much about this floor.”

  He smirked. “A newcomer? Yeah, I can give you the rundown.” Igzad pointed to the ground. “But not here. Standing in the middle of the hallway by the entrance like this is rather uncomfortable.” He turned and waved for me to follow him. “Come on, we can talk over drinks. I’ll show you where to get something that’s not ‘filtered’ water.” The air quotes when he said “filtered” sent a shiver down my spine.

  Without a better plan, I clenched my fists as I followed Igzad. This doesn’t feel like the shaylip town. Yet it also feels odd. But the air feels even fresher here than outside. I guess I’ll take the lesson from that guard on the last floor. Igzad isn’t an ally, and I shouldn’t make friends with him. However, he’s rather calm around a stranger like me. But I need information, and he looks like someone who has a way around people.

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  My fist tightened even tighter. At the first sign of trouble, I was ready to bolt. If I had to, I would stab him. If he leads me to a public place, that’ll make it less likely he’ll try anything, right?

  Insufficient information.

  I ignored Orange and let Igzad lead me, hoping for some food and maybe a place to sleep later. But I have to hate the Nexus. I wanted to go to the place where I could get the most shards, and it didn’t send me to a dungeon. Instead, it sends me to where other people like me are climbing the Soul Nexus. It’s probably not wrong, but I’m not about to start murdering everyone. I’m not a murder—self-defense only—and I won’t become a thief again either.

  Igzad led me deeper into the tower, and as we ventured further into the city’s heart, the intricate architecture made it easier to understand Mr. Phillips’s obsession with termite architecture and engineering. I know far too little about engineering, and even I could understand that this was something special.

  We climbed upwards, through various paths winding their way through the labyrinth of chambers and tunnels. The ceiling always had its blue crystal winding and branching everywhere, casting a soft light on everything. It was as much of a termite hill on the inside as it was on the outside.

  As we walked, I couldn’t help but pepper Igzad with questions. “So, Igzad, what’s the deal with this place? It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  He glanced back at me with a friendly smirk. “It’s quite the marvel, isn’t it? The centicrad call this city Xyloth. Why? Don’t know, don’t care. They built it; they can name it whatever they want.”

  I nodded, but I noticed that one of the chambers we were walking past had a large pen. “Are those animals?”

  Igzad stopped, leaned back, and looked. “Ah, yes. Those horned rabbits are our primary source of protein. They love to eat the glowing mushrooms the centicrad can grow in these walls. Whoever’s in charge of keeping this city running without running out of food or water is a hero in my book. I wouldn’t want their job.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know who’s in charge?”

  “So?” Igzad waved his hand. “I’ve been here a long time. There’s no way I’d survive out there on my own if this place didn’t exist. Trust me, sometimes ignorance is bliss. I’ve met people who want to know everything about everything and everyone. But what does that information really do for them? Nothing.” He stopped and turned around. “Don’t bother filling your head with details you don’t need. Save yourself the effort and concentrate on what’s important.”

  The dragonkin has a point. For the time being, keep your focus narrow.

  “Okay. So your comment about the filtered water, care to elaborate?” I motioned for him to speak after he just grinned.

  He swept his hand out wide. “How much of this floor have you wandered? How much water have you seen out there? None, right?”

  Now that I think about it, yeah. I nodded.

  “We have a full-running water plumbing system here. They collect water from the walls of special chambers. I don’t understand the science of it, so don’t ask. With that and all the other water they recycle, we’ve yet to run out. But you’ll notice pretty quickly that the centicrad don’t use the bathroom like the rest of us. Their waste is slowly excreted through their legs. And they walk on all the walls.”

  A completely self-sufficient city. Impressive. “It should be fine so long as they filter it, right?”

  Correct. But for you, we’ll absorb all impurities without harming you.

  Igzad shrugged as he waved me into a chamber full of people. The sheer variety of species blew me away. It looked like a quaint little dinner, except everything was made of rocks and crystals. Out of the fifteen people, no more than two people looked like the same species. With one exception. Three slimes looked like they were working behind the bar and as servers. Unlike Killa, they were round blobs crawling on the ground. Three tables had four people sitting around them and from what I could tell, they were getting along, happily even.

  Igzad led me to the corner table made of milky quartz that felt warm to the touch, with stone stools that had flat cushions strapped to them. “They do. Charcoal filtering is fantastic. Then, when you add a little magic, you can never tell the difference.” Igzad waved to the yellow slime that didn’t use a humanoid shape. “But it’s the principle of drinking water that’s been running along walls that are covered in bug excrement that gets me. It’s unhygienic.”

  The yellow slime decided to keep its amorphous blob-like appearance. As it settled next to our table, a head with a featureless face formed on top of the slime. A small opening formed where the mouth should’ve been rising to meet our eye level. “Your order?” The voice sent a shiver down my spine. It was a deep, suave baritone that left me imagining it whispering sweet nothings in my ear. I had to catch the drool leaking from my mouth.

  Igzad glanced at me and winked. Did he notice? He held up two fingers. “Give us one bottle of the good stuff. Two cups too.” He then pointed at me with the same hand. “By the way, if I’m talking, you're paying.”

  Nothing’s free, as usual. It’s a small price, hopefully. I gave a curt nod.

  The head sunk back down into the blob, and the slime extended a tendril towards the bar. The slime behind the bar, a red slime that looked more like an elf with muscles on his muscles, reached down, pulled a dark bottle from below the counter, and placed it on said counter. The yellow slime’s tendril wrapped around the bottle and pulled it towards us as it extended another tendril to collect the pewter cups the bartender placed on the bar.

  The third slime looked like the yellow one, except it was purple. It also extended its tendrils to collect and serve without moving its body much. That’s a really efficient way to run a restaurant.

  I held up my hand. “Do you have food, by any chance?”

  The head formed on the slime again. “Yes. four hundred shards per kilogram. Two hundred and fifty for the bottle of spirits.”

  Metric? I have distances in American, but I need to use weight in metric. I’m guessing that it is going to give me a kilogram of its body. Thanks for all the practice, Killa. Ugh. I wish I could remember the conversion ratio between pounds and kilograms.

  One kilogram is 2.203128442388191 pounds.

  Orange…

  Yes?

  Two decimal places from now on.

  Understood. We will use the imperial measurements for you since you're most familiar with them. Unless you wish to convert all units to metric?

  No!

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. Give me four thousand shards. My hand soon held a yellowish crystal that I held out to the slime. “Here.”

  The slime’s body rippled. “Are you sure? Did you misunderstand? It’s four hundred per kilogram”

  “Yes, and I heard you correctly. I’m going to eat all of it.”

  As the slime took the crystal, Igzad’s jaw hung lifelessly. It looked like the slime hesitated as it extended a tendril that then thickened into a cube at the end. The cube then detached from the slime and hit the table with a flat thud. Twenty-two pounds of slime. Killa would’ve had a laugh if I asked her for that much.

  My fist clenched at the thought of Killa. My throat clenched up. Tears threatened to seep out as I slammed my eyes shut to stifle the pain. It only lasted a fraction of a second.

  She’s gone. She’s gone and I have to keep going alone. I’ll never see her goopy smile or hear her call me “kiddo” again. Most of all, I’m going to miss being able to ask her for a hug. Because right now, I really want one. But I have to be stronger.

  Igzad popped open the bottle and poured a drink in each glass as the slime wandered away. “You look like you need this.”

  The first one he pushed towards me. He downed the one in front of himself instantly, then immediately poured a second, and slammed that one back too.

  I blinked several times as I hung my head. “Sorry. It’s just a memory of a friend I lost.”

  “I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.” Igzad filled his glasses again. “Your friend a slime or something?”

  How did he know?

  Dragonkin are able to see into the infrared light spectrum. However, not to the extent that your eyes can filter it and it is mixed in with their normal vision. He guessed based on your face’s temperature rising five point four degrees.

  I nodded. “Yeah, she was.”

  Igzad squirmed in his chair as we sat across from each other for a minute without saying anything. “Well, I’m sorry for your loss. But that’s the nature of the beast, isn’t it? When you’re in a death trap of a world, sometimes friends are lost. The best you can do is drink to their memory and hope for a moment away from the pain.”

  I bit my lip. More running away? That sounds like something I would be good at by now. But no. There’s no running from this pain. It’s always going to be there. And if Killa saw me moping like this she’d pinch me and say I need to cheer up.

  Igzad slammed back yet another cup. “But you survived where a slime didn’t, that’s probably a feat in itself. They’re notoriously hard to kill.”

  Being turned into a statue of ice will kill anyone.

  Not true. Some insects, if placed in that state, will enter a hibernation state and come out alive after all the ice thaws.

  Does that mean Killa survived?

  If she was completely turned to ice, no. A slime is susceptible to elemental magic attacks such as fire, ice, lightning, plasma, light, shadow, negative, and radiation.

  I’m sure there’s something to unpack in what you just said, but I don’t even know where to begin.

  The lizard guy cleared his throat and pointed at the plate in front of me. “So, are you seriously going to eat all that? Or are you trying to save some for later?”

  I shuffled my feet and myself on the stone stool. “Uh, all right now.”

  Igzad shook his head violently. “Where… where do you put it? How?”

  I scratched the back of my head. “Again, it’s a long story… One I don’t want to tell.”

  The scaled man dropped his head into his hand. “The more you say that, the more I want to know.”

  I shot him a glare. “For your safety, you don’t.”

  Now how am I supposed to eat this? Let’s start with cutting it up. I looked around to see if there were utensils anywhere, but the few people who were eating were just using their hands. I took my arm blade and carefully cut the cube into more manageable pieces.

  Igzad took another drink. “How much danger are you in? Should I be running?”

  I finished cutting. “Not for a couple of days, at least.” I hope. “I’m just looking for information so I can leave this place as quickly as possible.”

  I took my first bite of the slime. It was blander than Killa was. I clenched my fist under the table as my heart ached. Who would’ve thought that I’d miss her taste? She cared about me enough to offer a piece of herself without asking anything in return. I’ll avenge her. That thing is done hurting those closest to me. It won’t get anywhere close to Marc. So until then, I have to go alone.

  “I’ve already tried to go to the next floor, and I’m not fast or strong enough.” My voice caught in my throat. “So I need shards and levels as fast as possible. What dungeons are the best for that?”

  Igzad pushed the other cup he filled earlier closer to me as I took another bite. “I hate to tell you this, but when I called this place ‘hell,’ it wasn't far off. More climbers die on this floor than any other before it. This is the first true test of the Nexus.” He leaned closer. “Drink. Because if you’re going to die here, like so many before you, you might as well enjoy the last few creature comforts available.”

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