“So, I’m proper buzzin’ about gettin’ prizes for nowt, like.”

  Lorelei didn’t disagree with Pete, who was now the proud owner of a very snazzy new suit of armour that, not only added a flat +10 to his Strength and Stamina but also gave him the Steady buff which meant, in Pete’s words, “nowt short of a Shearer volley’s puttin’ me on me arse.”

  This was, apparently, a good thing.

  The whole rest of the group had been similarly blessed by the Gods of Loot. When Hild placed her new diadem on her head, a golden shimmer bathed around her. She straightened slightly, her stance firmer. “Feels like wearing a fortress,” she murmured, her rare grin actually genuine.

  Michelle and Michael each had picked up twin daggers that, apparently, did something “epic” to their Critical Hit chances, while Zorrobar’s new obsidian staff granted him a load more ‘oomph’ to his big-ticket attacks. “It’s doing something sexy to my Mana Regen, too,” he said.

  Steffan had, silently, slid his five new rings onto the fingers of his left hand, the coloured gemstones glinting. A chill filled the air as the necromancer flexed his hands, a ripple of power spreading outward. Lorelei tried not to think too much about that film the Prick with prick had insisted they’d queued up overnight to watch on release day. Space Grimace had sported a gauntlet that looked pretty much the same. If Steffan was happy about them, he didn’t mention it.

  Chrissy, though, was loving her new earrings, the small hoops shimmering as their magic surged through her. “They store aspects of any previous Class I’ve adopted,” she gushed. “Not everything, obviously, but it looks like I should retain an Ability. Fuck me, these are game changing!” She went to high-five Steffan who didn’t respond. That brought down her enthusiasm some.

  In fact, the only member of the group not now sporting something that didn’t significantly improve their build was Lorelei. And she was feeling somewhat salty about it.

  “The only reason we made it through to the next round was because of me! How come I don’t get anything.”

  Lorelei let most of that little rant slide. “But I didn’t get anything! Everyone else has picked up some epic gear and all I get is you taking the piss!”

  Lorelei’s stat screen suddenly appeared in her vision with her new title glowing bright red.

  “I’ve not got any idea where that came from!”

  Lorelei opened her mouth to speak, but found herself . . . muted. Was that a thing?

  A sharp pain lanced through Lorelei’s head, sending her to her knees. Her health bar plummeted by a quarter.

  “Wait, I don’t—” Lorelei began, but the second the words left her lips, she crumpled to the ground as if punched in the gut. Her health bar dropped to half, her vision blurring.

  The rest of the group stared in shock as Lorelei, bleeding from everywhere, clawed at the ground, trying to regain her balance.

  Lorelei tried to crawl to her feet, her hand trembling as she reached out toward her friends. “Help—”

  Another wave of agony hit her, this one like ice tearing through her veins. Her health bar blinked, dropping to a sliver of red. The edges of her vision darkened.

  Zorrobar raised his staff to cast a protective spell, but Lorelei’s Guide pre-empted him.

  By the look on his face, Zorrobar got that message loud and clear. He froze mid-cast, his magic fizzling out. The fire mage looked visibly shaken as he stepped back, his hands trembling.

  Lorelei gasped, clutching her chest. Every breath felt like shards of glass slicing through her lungs.

  A thin trickle of blood ran from Lorelei’s nose, and she couldn’t muster the strength to wipe it away.

  Lorelei’s screen dimmed as the last message scrolled into view:

  Then, everything went blank.

  For a long moment, no one spoke.

  When Lorelei finally looked up, her voice was a ragged whisper.

  “It’s gone...”

  The only thing that answered her was a cold, monotone notification: