We spent a while recovering at first. Surrounded by complete darkness, I reviewed how my stats had changed. The Spinedrinkers didn’t count for much though. My block had gone up the most, improving by five points. Heavy weapons gained two and my dexterity finally went up by one. Everything else remained the same.

  My interface provided a small comfort in the otherwise unyielding black. Sparking the flint a few times gave me an overview of how badly my leg had been broken. I preferred not to think about it anymore. Ruza had wrapped it in a now blood soaked bandage but the rest of our wounds were left to heal on their own.

  Robeep had been in the worst state but Ruza repaired him as well she could. Even her dark vision wasn’t enough to perceive the more delicate bits. Her work left his parts around the one hundred mark, except for an arm which had been thoroughly wrecked. It was still attached but at zero durability and effectively out of commission.

  I was completely useless down here and Robeep wasn’t faring much better. He had some ability to echolocate but it involved loud pings and we told him to quit it. Thus, Ruza had to do everything, from fixing us up to renewing our water supply and scouting. Footsteps announced her return.

  My heart sank when she spoke, “It’s a complete maze. The cavern is huge and there’s a different tunnel every few dozen yards. There’s nothing else down here either.”

  “I guess we have no choice but to pick one at random?”

  “I’m afraid so. It gets worse.”

  “How’s that even possible?”

  “There are small crevasses littered about and there are sharp protrusions everywhere. If we’re not careful then the injuries will accumulate. It’ll already be slow going as is and we’ll have to wait until you can walk.”

  “Well, shit.”

  Our troubles didn’t end there since we only had a few MRE’s left. Just great, aimlessly wander through an underground labyrinth while starving to death. Fun for the whole family. When the time came, Ruza led me by the hand and carefully steered me around any dangerous drops and spike stuff. As if being completely blind wasn’t enough, my prosthetic squeaked incessantly.

  “Can we please oil it up? This is driving me crazy.”

  “I find it quite pleasant,” Robeep said.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Ruza stopped, “It’s annoying but I have to agree with Robeep. It’s making this a little easier and I don’t see how else we would keep any kind of pace, unless you want to get rid of Plank?”

  “…No.”

  “Then shut up and let me focus. Careful, there’s another crack.”

  The constant screeches that accompanied my every step effectively replaced Robeep’s sonar spam, which allowed him to walk on his own. Normally we could have formed a conga line but my weapon was far too heavy for Ruza to carry comfortably. She already strained to guide me alone and since Robeep’s other arm was ruined, he couldn’t drag it along either. Lubricating my leg would have forced both of us to hold one of her hands. Thus, the squeaking continued.

  We had no idea where we were going and the tunnels twisted and intersected. In short, we were completely lost. Even Robeep appeared to feel the mounting despair and conversation ceased as our supplies ran out. Only our debuffs and exhaustion helped estimate the passing of time, as rumbling bellies mixed with the sounds my leg made. Nothing turned to malnourished, malnourished turned to starving, and dehydration joined the party. Never thought I’d miss the sandwiches.

  “Robeep, if I collapse and can’t go on anymore… Give it a week and then finish me off, yeah? I don’t want to spend decades dying down here.”

  “I am honored Susawa, but cannot comply. A rescuer might appear in the interim. The Murder King must live on, no matter what.”

  “What if a spider shows up?” Ruza said.

  “Then I will slay it.”

  And so even the hope of a quick release disappeared, Robeep wouldn’t change his mind on the subject. Our pace slowed down and despair made way for quiet resignation. Until something happened. Click clacks echoed through the winding passages. They got louder and louder, a rhythmic tapping… of metal on stone. Our motionless quiet made it easy to distinguish the source. Eight legs, behind us.

  “I think that’s a Spinedrinker,” Ruza said.

  “Affirmative. The tempo matches previous records,” Robeep added.

  “Crap, if we’ve wandered into their territory then it’s only a matter of time before they get us.”

  “Susawa… I’m too weak to fight back. Robeep won’t last long either. I fear this is the end…”

  “I’m really coming around to the ryoshi all of a sudden. Well, what’s done is done. Here it comes.”

  Robeep shouted his usual battle cry, “TO MURDER!”

  “WAIT!” Ruza screamed.

  “I do not understand. At first you wish for me to murder efficiently, now you do not wish me to murder. I cannot function under these paradoxes. Please clarify your desired rate of genocide in deaths per minute.” A nearly consistent stream of sparks accompanied Robeep’s confusion and revealed the reason for Ruza’s command.

  This one had a victim and dutifully ignored us. Small mechanical arms carried an ampule full of yellow liquid. Lacking any other options, we decided to follow the robot. It had to be going somewhere. Even Ruza stumbled a few times because it took everything we had to keep up with it. We scrambled over and over, pushing ourselves beyond our limits.

  It would have been dramatic, if the thing had been going faster than a languid stroll. We hadn’t been close to whatever its destination was, a fact accented by the decay from dehydrated to parched. We were slowly falling behind. It was almost impossible to keep my eyes open. Ruza came to a sudden stop, causing me to bump into her while her grip tightened.

  Her voice displayed the first sign of emotion in days, “There’s light!”

  “Well, at least I’ll get to see myself slowly decay away.”

  “Do not worry Susawa, your legacy will live on. I will record your final moments and display them for all to see so the Murder King’s legend never dies, unlike your frail meatbag body,” Robeep said.

  “Yeah, thanks. That’s a real comfort.”

  “You are welcome.”

  We rounded a bend. “There’s some kind of building up ahead,” Ruza said.

  “Yeah, I’m starting to see.”

  My perception even ticked up as we approached. Flickering yellow safety lights ensconced by rusty cages illuminated a concrete structure built into a cave mouth. It had a heavy gate but the edges of its metal double doors were damaged and provided a potential entry point. There was a blank digital screen above the entrance too. More light escaped from within. Soft moans echoed in the cavern. It looked terrifying.

  There were alternate entrances off to both sides at ground level, each roughly six feet wide and about waist high, with rough jagged edges. They didn’t appear to be part of the original design. Piles of broken rock and rebar chunks rested against both cave walls, likely excavated while making them.

  An endless stream of Spinedrinker spiders with ampules waited patiently in line. A lockstep ripple spread throughout the queue as they all moved forward a spot. Shortly after, a Spinedrinker exited from the other opening and sauntered off. They all had victims.

  “May I charge?” Robeep said.

  “Absolutely not,” Ruza replied.

  “But I want to charge.”

  “Look at it this way, Robeep. If you fall here then you can never kill again.”

  “I see. You have given me much to think about, Susawa. The Murder King’s wisdom never ceases to amaze my fleshy brain.”

  “So, what do you think? Go in or try to find something else before we collapse?”

  “I don’t see any other choice,” Ruza said.

  We hesitated for a while and slowly closed in on the underground bunker. Suddenly the screen popped to life, displaying green blocky text on a black background. “Please surrender your spinal fluid,” it said.

  “I’m having second thoughts.”

  “At least it’s polite,” Ruza replied.

  She peered in carefully but sighed in relief and motioned us forward. Ruza went in last after refilling her rebar ammunition from the piles. I suffered several scrapes and cuts forcing myself through the thin opening but made it through without further issue. Ruza went in last after refilling her rebar ammunition from the piles. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

  A typical office desk stood off the wall ahead of us with the skeleton of a decayed chair behind it. Two screens flickered to life above it, each showing the same text as before. A broken clock hung in between them, forever stuck at ten to five. The room looked suspiciously like a reception area.

  Withered remains of couch frames and shelves dotted the corners. Flaky piles had once probably been magazines or newspapers. Several different corridors led deeper in. A few were even marked by plastic pictograph signs. Wiping one off revealed a crossed knife and fork surrounded by a circle.

  Ruza had been studying a gentleman and lady sign on the other side of the room.

  “That’s a bathroom, Ruza.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  “His murder sense is tingling,” Robeep said.

  “Call it intuition. Come on this way, there might be food here.”

  And so we crept further into some long abandoned facility.