I knew Earthquake wouldn’t destroy the giant, but it was strong enough to batter the hatch. I climbed the stairs and pried at it. The hatch’s frame fell onto the floor below with a metallic clang. Slipstream wasn’t available, so I hoisted myself into the opening. Judging by the room’s shape, I moved into the upper chest area. I recognized it to be Flagboi’s workshop—or its remains.
Earthquake had done a number on the place. Smashed glass, tools, and instruments rattled in every corner of the lab. Parchment littered the floor like confetti. Upended desks, shelves, and cages piled against a wooden operating table, still anchored to the floor.
Strewn across the wreckage lay corpses and body parts. Cadavers hung from supports in hollows along the wall. Thankfully, none moaned or reached for me as I climbed a narrow spiral stairwell in the room’s center. By the time I reached another hatch at the top of the stairs, Mineral Mutation’s cooldown had ended, so I put it to work.
The noise of the vibrating giant masked the faint hissing sounds of my turning iron into cotton. The hatch likely opened into the golem’s head. Traveling upward through its innards made me feel like an acute case of food poisoning. I’d seen no Waking Eyes, giving me hope for the element of surprise.
Rhythmic thuds conjured images of a walking figure. Had Flagboi abandoned his climb and chased Fabulosa through the streets?
In its upper torso, the giant’s movements barely threw me around anymore, but the tilting and sudden stops increased at the top of the next staircase. I nearly fumbled Mineral Mutation before using it to disable the hatch mechanisms. Saving Slipstream would be necessary, for the shaking might intensify inside its head.
After my spell broke through the locks, the hatch loosened, and I pushed through the opening to another spiral staircase illuminated by indirect sunlight. It felt like the inside of its neck. Using Slipstream’s interface, I froze time and previewed the platform.
The head reminded me of a pavilion with iron supports and a basalt roof. It opened to the sky, and the control room whistled with a bitter breeze. Happily, my ring acclimated me to the chill.
Outside, dust hung like smog over a city that pitched and reeled from the kaiju’s every motion.
Flagboi sat in the center of an iron contraption that I could only describe as a caged cockpit.
I’d admired his personal equipment.
It encouraged me to see magic gear not explicitly tailored to render me helpless. I recognized Blacken from my fight against the anomalocaris and readied Magnetize if Flagboi took away my sight.
I didn’t have any magical footwear. The boots’ impressive ability could make up for my loss of Creeper—my only source of infravision. And if Blackened prevented infravision, then I would definitely switch. I couldn’t use them without Blinding Fabulosa, but if we ever made it to the final two, that might not be so bad.
Flagboi wore impressive rings. One augmented his engineering rank by 10. One granted +4 agility, another +3 strength, and a fourth increased his stamina by 5.
His leather armor set explained his ability to animate this giant necrotic statue.
Aside from the impressive armor value, the Deathday Suit could stop an entire zombie horde in its tracks, for it required no visual contact, nor did it limit its use. Level 20 was relatively high for undead creatures, and Flagboi could lead them out of dungeons like a ghoulish pied piper.
I wasn’t crazy about Commanding undead, but situationally, it might bypass guardians of treasure or provide a valuable escape mechanic. Would I swap it for my Cassock of Rewind? Absolutely not.
Flagboi wore a black band around his forehead.
The stats appealed to me, but I saw little use for its utility. The crown supplemented research of dark magic, a hobby Flagboi obviously embraced.
Even though its shadow ability gave combat bonuses, this wasn’t an upgrade over my Helm of Peripheral Vision.
The cagelike cockpit wrapped around Flagboi from the metal floor to the basalt ceiling. He sat in a high-backed chair anchored to the floor, which looked more like a modern office chair than a throne. But the view outside gave him surprising visibility of the city below. The golem strode not through the streets but across the rooftops of the basalt skyscrapers.
Was it still chasing Fabulosa?
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Apache Fab, can you see where he’s going? Is he still after you?
Fabulosa You told me to keep him busy. He’s getting better at wrangling the giant and still has a bead on me. Do you have any more mouse potions?
Apache No. Just flip your hood if you need to make tracks. Don’t take chances.
Flagboi Flip her hood? That’s all she needs to do to become a ghost? If she can do that more than once a day, that cape is so overpowered.
Sometimes, it felt good to be the bearer of bad news, and I followed it by announcing my presence in his inner sanctum. I drank five more stat potions, activated my Charm of Protection, and entered the giant’s head.
I brandished Gladius Cognitus and emerged from the stairwell. The sword freed my channeling powers enough that mana wouldn’t be a problem. My blade’s glowing tip made sweeping lines across as the golem strode forward, but Gladius couldn’t reach Flagboi inside his cockpit. Perhaps the cage protected him while keeping him from falling. But he certainly stood within the range of spells like Scorch and Shocking Reach.
With only 410 health to burn through, I considered Slipstreaming into his cockpit and backstabbing him, but it wasn’t roomy enough for a longsword, and his high-backed chair would complicate backstabs.
Jumping into a cage with a higher-level player wasn’t the safest course of action. Who knew what spells he employed? Besides, in this walking deathtrap, I needed Slipstream for emergencies.
My only concern about Flagboi’s kit was its lack of a primary weapon. Someone wearing such epic gear would undoubtedly have a formidable attack, and I suspected he’d use a dagger—perfect for a cage match.
Flagboi sat comfortably in his seat without the necessity of straps or a seatbelt, unimpressed that I’d invaded his inner sanctum. Heavy ankle, waist, neck, and wristbands wrapped around his extremities, but they weren’t armor or fashion accessories. They obviously controlled the mech.
He shouted over the wind whistling through the room. “Welcome aboard, Patch! Please do not stand while the vehicle is in motion! Our next stop will be on top of Fabulosa. Be a pal and scrape her off my feet when we get there. Don’t you hate it when they squish between your toes?”
Flagboi’s tone contrasted with Bircht’s calm, methodical approach to combat. He acted cheerful to receive guests, quite different from the panic I’d hoped to see.
Having reached the soft, chewy inside of the golem, I expected things to get crazy. Flagboi didn’t disappoint. As he taunted me, the world around me Blackened, and a Blinded icon appeared in my interface.
But I had readied myself for this and activated Magnetism, using its little arrows to feel my way around. The best thing about it was it comboed with my Helm of Peripheral Vision, giving me a clear view of the three flesh golems moving toward me from behind. I hadn’t bothered to look at the floor when I scoped out Flagboi’s control room, and they emerged from golem-shaped sockets.
The flesh golems looked very much like the pieced-together horrors that had attacked us in the arc weaver’s lair. Chains in the floor released, freeing the patchwork abominations.
An iron gate slid over the stairs, preventing anyone without Slipstream from escaping. I sidestepped away from them, using the caged cockpit as a buffer.
Had Magnetism not adequately countered my Blinded condition, the flesh golems would have easily knocked me about.
Flagboi swiveled the chair inside the cockpit to face me. “Golems in golems! And you thought my giant was the trap. No, my friend—it was the lure! I wanted you in my golem’s head. Now—now you’re in the trap! Isn’t it cool?”
I’d learned many things in Miros. The glee with which Flagboi explained his plans encapsulated one such truth—villains love their job. You’ll find no happier craftsperson than someone with the opportunity to describe how they’ll destroy you.
Flagboi’s passion reminded me of people who painted miniatures—the artistic nerds who turned their bedrooms and basements into museums. They’re always eager to show off their dust-covered figures.
My opponent radiated pride in his construct, and weirdly, he had the right to. As insane and despicable as I found his hobby, I felt a gamer kinship with his enthusiasm. Despite his madness, I couldn’t deny that his mech was epic.
My distraction with Flagboi gave the nearest golem an opportunity to attack me from behind. Only my helm prevented it from being a critical hit.
/Flesh Golem hits you for 50 damage (14 resisted).
/You hit Flesh Golem with Charge for 166 damage (60 resisted).
/Flesh Golem hits you for 49 damage (14 resisted).
/Flagboi casts Sleep.
/You resist Sleep.
/You miss Flesh Golem.
Even with Aggression, doing double damage to monsters with this much health was a futile fight.
While dodging my attackers, I made a probing attack to see if Flagboi had hidden defenses. I roasted him with an 80-point Scorch and a quick Shocking Reach for 48. I landed Moonburn for over 200 damage. His high willpower shaved off about 20 percent of the damage from all of my spells, but the high numbers show Aggression bonuses kicking in. By the time Moonburn’s Stun wore off, I plinked him with another Scorch. My opening salvo brought him down to under 100 health, and I Counterspelled his Rejuvenate for good measure.
I used meager spells, but my 25 ranks in primal magic measured up to whatever exotic magic other players used.
A second golem circled the cockpit while Flagboi cast a 60-point Restore on himself.
Killing Flagboi wouldn’t solve my problem with the flesh golems. While I could escape by jumping and Slipstreaming to safety, it wouldn’t do me any good in the long run. Flagboi had gotten the hang of controlling his battle mech and could undoubtedly hunt me down with his Lock On power. Evading him would cause incalculable mayhem to the city.
My opponent interrupted my thoughts with a spell that stifled any thoughts of jumping.
It lowered me to 14 agility, but the sudden loss of locomotion prevented me from dodging a nasty punch that critically hit me for 130 damage and Stunned me for 5 seconds. Another flesh golem landed a critical hit with similar results, renewing my Stunned condition.
Gamers used the term stunlock to describe being unable to respond to a succession of Stuns. It usually spelled out a player’s doom.
Activating Mana Shield, I poured 300 mana into it and considered my options while I waited for the Stun to wear off.
The golems hadn’t just emerged from the floor—I’d heard the jingle of chains freeing them. If they were Flagboi’s servants, why chain them down? His Deathday Suit controlled undead under level 20.
But something didn’t seem correct about the flesh golems.
In biology class, we learned that 19th-century scientists had used electricity to cause dead frogs to spasm. The belief that galvanism could animate dead flesh inspired Mary Shelley to write Frankenstein.
Electricity, not dark magic, animated flesh golems. While flesh golems looked abhorrent, they weren’t undead. It meant Flagboi had no control over them. His cage served another purpose.
Another debuff appeared on my interface, Withered, which reduced my strength by 26.
The flesh golems mindlessly pounded away at my mana shield. Since it offered resistance, they didn’t deliver critical hits, buying me precious seconds.
The Stuns wore off long enough for me to throw myself at the bars of the cockpit. Low agility made me sluggish, but it put me within the short range of Transpose.
I cast it, putting Flagoi on the outs.
The flesh golems switched to their new target while the giant powered down. Inside the cockpit, banks of levers, body parts, and runes awaited my command, but the colossus had already started to spin out of control.
Outside the protective cage, Flagboi enjoyed a dose of stunlock while the flesh golems did what he designed them to do.
My stomach heaved while the cockpit experienced a freefall, and my view of Heaven’s Falls turned skyward. Dread overcame me when I realized the giant was falling from its perch. I fiddled with the controls, but if the toppling colossus responded, I couldn’t tell.
For a brief moment, myself, Flagboi, and three flesh golems flailed about in zero gravity.
After casting a quick Rejuvenate, I flipped on my Slipstream’s interface to slow down time and pinpoint the moment before this airplane crashed. Fortunately, the control room offered excellent visibility, letting me Slipstream outside the giant’s head the instant it cratered into the streets. Resetting my momentum was just as crucial as escaping the basalt meteorite that had once been a tower golem.
My landing wasn’t graceful, but 125 falling damage paled in comparison to what I avoided.
With a deafening crash, the giant landed at an angle, collapsing nearly headfirst into a roundabout. Its upper form shattered into boulders, and its legs flipped into a bank of skyscrapers. Dark clouds of dust blanketed the sky.
I positioned myself to appear over its head. I fell while collateral debris rained down on the fair city of Heaven’s Falls. I slowed time with my interface to dodge projectiles falling around me. Plumes of dust capped the impact.
The kaiju’s upper torso disintegrated into a hill of rubble tangled with metal. Its legs jackknifed into the side of a building, looking like a discarded marionette.
The contest’s interface registered six contestants when the game dropped me out of combat state. Flagboi and his golems were no more.
