The prosthetic had aligned perfectly to match the length of my other leg. If we had another sandal, I could’ve tied it on but was instead forced to go barefoot. It only took about half a day of walking to start squeaking. Fortunately we stole one of the tin cups and filled a plastic bottle with oil for Robeep. The stuff made for great lubricant, although it didn’t last for long. Reducing our potable water supply might have been a mistake as well.

  The ambient temperature was rising. We’d backtracked to escape the mountains and headed slightly west to get away from the rocky surroundings. Unfortunately the dead and poisonous forest hadn’t lasted for long before everything turned into sandy desert again. As we continued northwards, things got increasingly dry. By now there wasn’t even any sand, just scorching rock. According to Ruza, that meant we were entering the Great Divides. My foot hurt, my nerves grated, and someone was about to share in my suffering.

  “Great Deluge, Great Divides, why are these places called great when they suck?”

  “Because the suffering they inflict is great,” Robeep interjected quietly.

  “I don’t know,” Ruza whispered, “Delusions of grandeur maybe? They’re quite big, so that might be it. Now shush or they’ll hear us.”

  “May I charge yet?” It was the fifth time Robeep asked in the past minute.

  “She told you before. Ruza shoots, I run in, and then you charge.”

  “This plan seems suboptimal. What if they die before I arrive?”

  “I’ll leave some for you, buddy. Don’t worry.”

  “My name is not buddy. I am Robeep. May I charge?”

  “Quiet, both of you!”

  Ruza had spotted a small group of cannibals before they noticed us. Her perception was low rather than very low. The same was true for her dexterity. I still had no clue what the other redacted attributes were but suspected the System was simply fucking with me. Ruza took her sweet time lining up a shot.

  There were five of the bastards and they’d stopped to rest. None of us had any compunction about straight up slaughtering them, even Ruza. We wanted to apply some party tactics, so our assault also served a dual purpose as a trial run. I planned to try something out too.

  A cannibal turned towards us, shading his face with a hand, as if he’d noticed us. Ruza’s crossbow plinked and a piece of rebar whizzed through the air. A splatter of gore erupted as it pierced his head straight through the eye. Robeep lost his patience. “I am charging. TO MURDER!”

  They all got up in a hurry, as did we. Goddamnit. Robeep ran ahead while I tried to keep up and Ruza began reloading. Here goes. My lifter foot touched the ground, absorbing the impact, and then it decompressed, violently. It sent me flying with industrial force, completely out of balance. I soared over Robeep and managed to right myself in the air, Plank poised to strike downwards. Robeep shouted encouragement, “THE MURDER KING COMETH.”

  A cannibal raised its femur club to block. It exploded as my hunk of iron crashed through and splatted its head like a watermelon. Massive shock traveled through my body and put me on my knees from the impact, but still upright. The remaining three tried to surround me but Robeep engaged one. I swept my greatweapon in a wide arc. One cannibal was too slow and his knee detonated from getting hit while the other hopped backwards just in time. A rebar bolt flashed by and lodged into his throat.

  Robeep toyed with his opponent. He’d crushed both the dudes’ arms and was now alternating between ribs one by one.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked.

  His victim balled up on the ground, whimpering for mercy. “Research.”

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  A trail of blood followed the other surviving one as he tried to crawl away. “Ah, slow and fast death?”

  “Exactly. I am overjoyed that you are catching on. It took you long enough. The ribs appear to be especially effective for maximizing pain. We meatbags have many weaknesses. I must explore them all.”

  Ruza joined us. I motioned at her crossbow. “Let me borrow that for a second.”

  She frowned but gave it to me, already loaded. I sighted down, shot the crawling cannibal in the leg and then tossed the junkbow back to Ruza. Crossbow skill unlocked.

  “Just… why would you do that?” she said.

  “Felt like it.”

  She rolled her eyes, “This is only going to get worse, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, probably. Pretty sure he deserves it anyway, and I owe them.”

  “Well… You’re not wrong. But perhaps we can minimize unnecessary suffe-” Her eyes drifted towards Robeep, who had moved on to the legs, starting at the toes. “Never mind.”

  A thudding smack from Plank crushed the crawler’s spine, killing him. Maybe. “Okay, okay, I get it. We’ll focus on quick kills from now on. Robeep, finish up. We have places to go, horrors to discover.”

  He complained but did as asked while Ruza collected her ammunition and wiped the bolts clean against the only cannibal who wore pants instead of a loincloth and bone armor. Her crossbow skill was actually at medium. Our journey continued across the barren stone wasteland, with only the oppressive heat haze to keep us company, aside from the tentacle sun.

  I made small talk along the way. “You’re a great shot, where’d you learn?”

  She held her chin up. A look gleamed from her eyes, a little sad, but mostly tired. “Oh, I manned the turrets in my village as a child. Before the cannibals ate everyone.”

  “Must’ve been rough. They raid often?”

  Her hand mimed a dismissive gesture. “We weren’t the closest settlement to the Flesh Eater Plains, so the attacks weren’t as common, only every third day or so.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Huh. So, what’s the deal with these Spinedrinkers?”

  “I don’t actually know. This place is typically avoided at all cost. The edges shouldn’t be so bad but it supposedly gets much worse deeper in.”

  Fantastic, too horrifying even for the locals. So far things were alright though. Loud winds overpowered the constant squeaking. The first gorge came into sight. A giant saw tooth crack split the earth ahead of us, it was maybe fifteen feet at the widest but narrowed down to three or four here and there. It was a little eerie. The crag funneled the moving air in a way that sounded like moaning. We moved towards a jumpable part, but Ruza hesitated while my curiosity demanded satisfaction.

  I sneaked up to the ledge and peered down. My perception ticked up. They weren’t spiders, nor was wind the source of moaning. Eight legged robots lined sunny spots on the sheer cliffs. Each had a multitude of smartphone sized solar panels on tiny robot arms pointed upwards.

  On their backs, humanoids were held in place face down by straps and mechanical arms. Transparent tubing dotted with slow moving droplets of yellow liquid connected the bots to large rusty needles embedded in their spine and skull. A chorus of groans and moans echoed throughout. Most of the captured were nearly mummified. Desiccated, and still alive.

  “Holy shit. This is bad,” I said. Starving to death over decades under the sands just lost its spot as the worst way to go.

  Ruza walked over and immediately threw up over the ledge. Robeep joined us.

  He stared while I grabbed a water bottle from my backpack and handed it to her. After observing for ten seconds, Robeep quietly muttered, “Exquisite. We should bring one as a pet. I will name it Paradise. For the irony. Ha. Ha. Ha.”

  A Spinedrinker with no victim retracted its panels. “Crap, one is coming up.”

  It skittered straight for us. Ruza backed off, Robeep made come hither noises. I lifted Plank over the edge in a double handed reverse grip. Wait for it… Just as it got close, I punted downwards. A massive crash heralded its doom as it bounced from cliff to cliff in a shower of metal fragments and sparks.

  “Well, at least they’re easy to kill.”

  Ruza neglected to respond while Robeep called me an abuser. At least most of the cracks weren’t entirely unavoidable and we reluctantly travelled across this nightmare. So far we only had to jump the one, the rest we detoured around even if it slowed us down. Surprisingly enough, we found a small oasis with clean water and a bunch of the edible needle cacti in the late evening. Deadwood palm tree trunks even promised a campfire.

  Ruza and I shared an MRE supplemented by annoying flora and refilled our water supply. This was as good a place as any so we settled down for the night, using our sleeping bags as mattresses. Robeep didn’t need shuteye so he’d keep guard. We gave him express instructions to warn us at the very first sign of anything approaching, no matter what it was. I threatened to renounce the ways of violence and dedicate my life to spreading pacifism if he failed.

  He did a good job too. Woke us up right and proper in the middle of the night, screaming, “Susawa! Ruza! Look at this! They’re so cuuuuuuute!”

  A sea of shifting shadows surrounded our island of light. At the edges, Spinedrinkers skittered across the dark plains, headed straight for us. Ruza wiped her eyes in drowsy resignation and deadpanned, “To murder?”

  “To murder,” I said.