I hustled through the Waystation door with Billy in my arms. Black smoke nipped at my heels until the door slammed shut behind us.

  My shoulders relaxed. We were safe for the moment. But safe where?

  We didn’t descend, so we’re not on a new floor. This Waystation must be a temporary break room of sorts. When I saw the name on the door, I thought it would be a downgrade to the apartment. Now, standing in it, I’d never been relieved to be so wrong.

  At the end of one side, is a 1920s bar and lounge area. All dark wood paneling and leather couches. Then a few tables and chairs for dining with a modern-day kitchen. A tempting bowl of fruit and a bag of coffee beans are sitting on the counter. I tear my eyes away from it.

  I can’t get distracted now. Although, there’s probably even more food in those cupboards. Hugo must never learn of this, I thought.

  Past the kitchen was a door with a stairwell sign on it, presumably to progress down to the next floor. Billy wasn’t in any condition to go in his current state, and so I pondered leaving him behind. He didn’t strike me as the type to have hard feelings about such things.

  I looked down at him and pursed my lips. The kid was barely breathing. He wasn’t going to make it unless I did something.

  I set him down gently on the floor. My backpack was out of health potions, so I opened his. The first thing I see is a single health potion. There are a couple of other things in there, but I don’t pay them any mind. The sooner he drinks the potion, the more likely he is to recover.

  I uncork the potion and pour a little down his throat. A few seconds passed and then Billy’s body started seizing. Somehow, the potion made him worse.

  I grab his shoulders to stabilize him. I don’t know what else to do. The potion is killing him, and it’s my fault.

  Just as I was losing hope, a holographic projection of the Officiator appeared. “Welcome Climber, to a brief respite from the battles of the Tower. Please feel free to make use of the facilities here.”

  It was another of Vhar’s personal jokes. An inferior Officiator clone built to perform some rudimentary function. I ignored it and eyed Billy’s health potion suspiciously. Could it have been poison? No, a message telling me so would’ve appeared when I picked it up.

  “What’s happening to him?” I asked.

  The Officiator held out his hand and scanned him. “Why, he’s dying, of course. From a combination of smoke inhalation and health potion sickness. That’s quite a novel way to kill another Climber. Well done, sir.”

  “I wasn’t trying to kill him! What do I do?”

  The Officiator frowned. “Hmm, well we do offer a premium medical package. That can attempt to heal his present injuries. It’s expensive, but the package will transfer over to any other Waystations you come across.”

  “Would that save him?”

  “If we begin treatment in the next 24.5 seconds, then his odds of survival are 91%”

  “Fine, give me the medical package.”

  Part of the wall next to the stairwell door rotated to reveal a touchscreen store terminal.

  “Please touch the screen to authorize your purchase.”

  I ran over and slapped my hand down on the screen. The price for it was high, but at least if there were more Waystations, we’d get repeated use out of it for Hugo and Damian.

  An empty wall to my right melted away to reveal a futuristic hospital room with several glass cylinder pods containing hospital beds.

  “Was that there the whole time?!”

  The Officiator pointed at the pods. “14.3 seconds.”

  “Fine, I get it.”

  I scooped Billy up and approached the closest pod. The top of the glass case lifted up, allowing me to put him inside. I closed the lid and heard a locking mechanism.

  “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “Interrupting the healing process at such a critical junction could be dangerous. The pod is locked and shielded not just for the patient’s protection, but for yours as well.”

  A series of digital readings then appeared on the lid of the case. Things like heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen levels, as well as some things I didn’t understand. Billy’s fate was out of my hands now. I just had to hope the machines would do their job.

  I walked back over to the Officiator. “So what the hell is health potion sickness?”

  “There’s a limit to how many a person can drink at a time,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Since when?”

  “Since you crossed past the fiftieth floor. Every floor you descend from then on, their effects grow weaker. Health potions were a crutch to help get you started as a Climber, but they were never intended as a permanent tool to rely on. Some Climbers are smart enough to see it coming and stockpile potions. Hence, the potion sickness was included as an added measure.”

  I thought back to surviving Vhar’s attack and all the potions I’d been made to drink.

  “I drank a lot of them recently and I didn’t get sick,” I said. “It must be something else.”

  He scanned me and shook his head. “Your body is stronger than his, and your age also gives you a greater capacity. Still, you should not consider yourself safe. My records indicate that you had a mild potion sickness recently. Before this recovery took place, did you feel fatigued?”

  I had felt tired along with my physical injuries, but I’d just chalked it up to the trauma of the attack I’d survived. Maybe he was right? I mean, health potions getting weaker would fall in line with the logic of removing the inventory to make things harder for us.

  I looked back at Billy, who was still asleep. “How long will it take to heal him?”

  The Officiator shrugged. “A couple of hours.”

  Leaving Billy behind didn’t make me comfortable for several reasons. First, I’d spent a lot of money on him and I was going to make sure that he knew it. Second, he might be useful on the next floor for whatever challenge was there once he’d recovered. And third, I just plain didn’t like the idea of him being behind me somewhere out of sight. I wanted to keep my eyes on him until I knew more about what he’s capable of. And since I was staying here for a bit, I figured I might as well make use of the place.

  I moved over to the kitchen. The Officiator followed. He silently watched as I made myself a coffee. The moment I poured it into a cup, the smell hit me, and I closed my eyes. The smell transported me back to a time before all of this. A more comfortable time where I felt warm and safe.

  This period of reflection was interrupted when the Officiator awkwardly coughed. I ignored him.

  “You know it’s usually polite to say bless you,” he said.

  I grabbed the coffee and sat down on a leather couch. “You’re thinking of sneezes. Also, holograms don’t cough or sneeze. It’s a fake gesture designed to manipulate the gullible into humanizing you.”

  “If I could-”

  I held up a finger to interrupt him and began slowly sipping my coffee. He stared at me as I settled in to get comfortable. I put my feet up on the coffee table and spent the next five minutes drinking it.

  Once the cup was empty, the Officiator opened his mouth to speak. I held up my finger again and went back to the kitchen to make a second cup. Only after finishing that did I resume the conversation by asking, “Is there a bathroom around here? And before you speak, let me be clear about something. If you tell me that I have to pay for it, then I’m going to tear this place apart until I find whatever hidden circuits are producing your light show.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  He sighed and pointed. “It’s just past the bar.”

  I looked around and saw nothing there but empty glasses, shelves of liquor, and a blank wall.

  “It’s hidden for privacy purposes,” he explained. “Just try to grab the Mal?rt.”

  I scanned the shelves until I found a bottle of pale yellow liquor with that name. Grabbing it resulted in the top of the bottle tilting towards me while the rest of it was still attached to the shelf by an invisible wire. I pulled on it like a secret lever, and as soon as I let go, it returned to the shelf. The blank wall next to the bar rotated to reveal a fancy hidden bathroom.

  I whistled in appreciation. “Okay, I’m starting to like the whole speakeasy secret room thing, but what happens if a group is here and one tries to serve themselves a drink while someone else is using the bathroom?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s never happened before. All of the alcohol is unlimited and refills itself automatically. And no, you can’t take any of it with you when you leave here.”

  I nodded and turned to go in when I stopped. “Wait, how does that answer my question? What if someone wants Mal?rt?”

  He snorted. “Nobody ever picks Mal?rt.”

  “What’s it taste like?”

  He folded his arms. “Well, as you like to keep reminding me, I’m a hologram. As you can see in my current form, I’m bereft of taste buds. I can make you a drink of it though.”

  A glass filled with the pale, yellow liquid appeared. The Officiator looked almost eager for me to drink it. This felt like a trap, but I didn’t want to back down and look weak in front of the computer program.

  I sniffed it and tried not to make a face. I then took a sip and gagged. “Oh god, it tastes like wood varnish and gasoline had a baby together, and that baby hated itself. Ergh, I’m not paying for that,” I muttered as I went to the bathroom.

  “Now, it’s a real Chicago speakeasy!” he called after me.

  The bathroom wall closed behind me. Now that I was out of sight, I rushed over to the sink and drank some water from the tap. I presumed the hologram wouldn’t follow me in here, so now I had some privacy.

  Once I’d had a few minutes to myself, I held back from returning. I needed a moment to think without being watched. I also took the time to fill Hugo in on what had happened. It was a lengthy message to him, but all I got back were four words.

  Hugo: Busy fighting. Talk later.

  I couldn’t blame him. I’d have sent something similar in his position.

  Now, back to my own problems. First, I needed to see how much the Officiator knew and explore this place fully. I didn’t trust the hologram. I’d seen a stripped-down version of him before, and the fact that this was an official room in the Tower made me think he was another copy. More advanced than the last, sure, but this one wouldn’t be able to tell me anything about the void creatures, or the bolt hole he’d put in my domain.

  I stepped out of the bathroom to find the hologram sitting on the couch with his feet up, copying my earlier pose. I started with a simple question.

  “What is this place?”

  The hologram flickered and suddenly stood in front of me, looking serious. “It is a Waystation where you can have a brief rest and recover.”

  “Why not just give me access to the elevator so that I can get to the apartment?”

  He held up his index finger mockingly. “Ah, I did say this was a brief respite. In the past Towers, the data has shown that those who have access to their apartments overstay in them due to various psychological reasons at this period of the Climb.”

  I think in normal circles they call that trauma, I thought to myself.

  “Therefore, places like this were created,” he continued. “Everything in this room that you did not bring with you from the outside, or purchased in the store, will begin to degrade in twenty-four hours.”

  I guess it made sense. People who overstayed out of fear or stress might need a gentler shove out the door than the standard method of impending doom. The store he mentioned was the next thing I wanted to talk about. But first I went over to check it out myself.

  The screen displayed the options of buying basic weapons, armor, potions. Assuming I had potion sickness too, they would be of no use to me. But Hugo and Damian might need some when we reconnect.

  Lucas: Hey, when you get this message, let me know if you guys need health potions because I’m at a store.

  Hugo: Nah, we’re good. We found a bunch of them in the next room. More than we could take even. Oops, new monsters coming. Gotta go!

  I left a message behind warning them about potion sickness. I was about to leave the store terminal when a new tab caught my eye. It was labelled ‘delivery,’ and I’d never seen it before. The Officiator was still nearby, impatiently wringing his hands while watching me. I decided to ask him about it.

  “What’s that?”

  “Ah, that will allow you to transfer items from this room to your apartment for storage. For a small fee, of course.”

  Of course.

  I eyed my backpack. It was filled to the brim with those metal bones that I currently had zero use for.

  “When will I next be able to visit my apartment?” I asked.

  “Impossible to give you a specific answer, but it will likely be within the next two to five floors.”

  “That sounds soon. It makes it sound like this Waystation is a waste of time.”

  He gave me a flat look. “Not every Climber has an apartment for them to access, and not all of them are nice to revisit. Not to mention this place has unique privileges, such as the delivery system and customization services.”

  “Customization services?”

  “They are listed under weapons and armor,” he replied, sounding tired.

  I went back to look. The weapons tab showed a range of weapons to buy and then, at the very bottom, it offered the ability to set my sword on fire by command. After buying the medical package, the sword fire trigger cost more than I could afford. Besides, I could only achieve a similar effect with Blood Ignition.

  I skipped over to the armor section and scrolled down to the bottom. What I saw there gave me pause. I sucked in a breath as I reread it to make sure that I hadn’t misunderstood what I was seeing.

  *Item Identified!* [Inventory Pocket Enchantment (Rare)] – This armor customization option is available for your [The Lord’s Umbral Shroud (Legendary: D-Grade)]. It will allow you to carry up to five non-organic items up to the pocket’s size limitations. You will not feel the weight of these items as they will be transported to a small pocket dimension connected to your pocket. No one else will be able to access this space unless you are dead.

  “The Tower takes away my inventory and then offers me this?” I asked him.

  “You need a high-level item to attach it to, so you’re lucky that your cloak qualifies. Second, look at the price tag. This isn’t something any Climber can just buy.”

  I looked at the price and did a double take. It was more expensive than Billy’s hospital room. If I bought this, I’d have no money left over. This purchase would wipe me out. Again, I looked at my backpack, and thought about how inconvenient it was to carry around. Sure, the pocket limited me to five items, but the convenience of it would be undeniable.

  I clicked purchase, and a drawer came out of the wall.

  “Place the item inside and it will be sent off for customization. It should only take an hour or so before it gets sent back.”

  I took the cloak off and put it in the drawer. Not wearing it after so long made me feel underdressed. Outside of the apartment, I’d never taken it off before. Now its absence was uncomfortable.

  The drawer closed and there was a pneumatic thwump as it was transported away.

  “Oh, that’s interesting,” the Officiator said.

  “What?”

  “Someone has already paid your first delivery fee.”

  “Does it say who?”

  The hologram shook his head. “The System won’t grant me access to find out. It only states that it was a Climber who paid at another Waystation.”

  It couldn’t have been Hugo and Damian. They would’ve said something by now. The only one I could think of doing it was Daisy, but why pay the delivery fee? She’d seen me collect the metal bones. Did she want me to send them there for a larger purpose, or did she know that I’d get the pocket upgrade?

  There was no way of knowing until I talked to her, so I put my backpack full of bones in the empty drawer that popped out when I pressed ‘delivery.’ There was another thwump as they were sent off, and I was left with nothing to do but wait.

  *******

  A message from Hugo appeared a little while later. It seemed they were done fighting.

  Hugo: So, how’s Children of the Corn doing?

  Lucas: What?

  Hugo: Damian asked me to say that.

  Lucas: Oh. He’s still sleeping.

  Hugo: You really think we can trust him?

  Lucas: No. But I’m not going to kill him without a good reason.

  Hugo: Damian says you should do it now to save us all the hassle. Just smother him with a pillow if you’re still weak from before.

  Lucas: I’m not doing it.

  Hugo: Why not?

  Lucas: Because I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that I’ve turned into Tanver Vhar. Someone that can just slaughter a hundred innocent people just to make things slightly more convenient for them.

  Hugo: There’s no danger of that. You can’t pull off the naked look like he can.

  Lucas: Hugo…

  Hugo: Fine, I get it. Just be careful.

  Billy’s backpack was on the floor next to my foot. My curiosity was nagging at me. There was no way he’d have risked his life like that just to recover a health potion. I tried to tell myself that I was being cautious by checking it out, but truthfully, I was bored and I wanted to snoop.

  The bag didn’t weigh much, but it was old. The tag on the metal zipper was frayed and close to falling off. The dinosaur stickers on it were dirty. Some were close to peeling off, and some had clear tape carefully applied to keep them in place.

  I opened the bag up wide. Even in this place, I wasn’t just going to blindly stick my hand in, and risk setting off some unknown magical device. Inside the bag was a flat rectangular object wrapped in cloth. Unwrapping it revealed a small framed family photo. It featured Billy wearing a private school uniform and smiling with his parents. There was another smaller boy in the same uniform next to him that I took to be his brother. I carefully wrapped the picture back in the cloth and set it aside.

  I almost wanted to stop there. I mean, I could understand someone not wanting to lose the only picture of their family. The poor kid likely doesn’t even know if they’re alive or dead.

  But I’d made it this far. I had to finish it.

  The next thing I found was a severed human finger in a zip-locked bag. No identification message appeared when I picked it up. The System didn’t deem it important, but Billy did if he was carrying it. Judging by the size it had belonged to an adult man. I set it aside as well while hoping that it served some practical function to Billy, rather than as a trophy he carried around. Although honestly, with this kid, it could go either way.

  The last thing in the bag was a small journal with a pen jammed between two pages as a bookmark. The front of it had his name in beautiful gold calligraphy. Perhaps it was a present from his parents. In all likelihood, this was his diary, and he’d be furious to know that I’d opened it. But life and death trump personal privacy, so I opened it to the last page he’d written on. It was dated today, but beneath it was strange. It was a series of brief notes alongside some initials.

  LC – Favorite Game: Hide and seek. Best Time: Waterpark, and protection when joining school. Most Talk: Dinosaurs, Jurassic Park, and video games.

  HC – Most Impressed: Calming the horse and riding it. Happiest: Cutting school day together. Most Talk: Club/sports achievements, and vacation plans.

  JC – Favorite Subject: Classical music. Best Moment: Unknown (Cause: stress? Revisit later)

  Considering the photo I’d found, it looked like the initials were of his other family members, and next to them was a shorthand description of some key memories. It didn’t make any sense to me.

  I flipped to the previous page, and the writing was identical to the last, although there were more details next to the JC initials. I kept flipping back, watching as the entries next to the initials grew longer and more detailed, until I reached the first page. There were the three initials again, but this time with multiple lengthy passages beneath each one.

  LC – ‘Lewis enjoyed playing hide and seek with me on the grounds and around the estate. We never switched roles though. I always had to hide while he searched for me. Our parents had to force us to accept time limits, otherwise the game could drag on for hours. One time, I was sitting in a tree, reading a book on my phone until it grew dark. You wouldn’t believe the look of pride on Lewis’s face when he caught me. I didn’t have the heart to say that it was more than likely the light of my phone that gave me away.’

  I stopped reading there. It was just personal family memories. There was nothing sinister or evil in it. No kill lists or diagrams about chopping people up. If the entries had no helpful information for me, then he had a right to keep them to himself.

  I carefully put everything back the way I found it. The Officiator watched, but didn’t pass judgment.

  “I don’t suppose you know anything about telepaths?” I asked halfheartedly.

  “Of course,” the Officiator replied.

  I looked up in surprise.

  “Where would you like me to begin? Strengths and weaknesses? Class specialties? Item synergies?”

  “All of it. Tell me everything.”