Of Sendoffs and Snow

John sighed as he looked up at the ceiling of the training room.

This place was fairly plain and practical, with little of the accents or fanfare that decorated the halls around it. Still, it had all the equipment he’d expect from a gym and more (not that he’d been to one recently), plus an open area that he surmised was wide enough for Moira to swing her hammer around.

The pale lights shone softly from above, reflecting off the polishing flooring. He didn’t know exactly what it was called, but it looked a lot like the material that the gymnasiums at Ashcroft used, though it was painted in very Order-appropriate reds and creams. His boots squeaked as he paced back and forth, tracing the lines on the roof with his eyes and thinking back over the last half hour.

After they were done gathering equipment in the armory, John, Ela, and Moira had made their way upstairs to meet Reginald in a training area that the Warden often used for her personal exercise and weapon practice. That was where they’d planned to have the Gamer open his barrier and begin the dungeon.

They’d gotten as far as meeting Reginald.

The butler had their food packs prepared, as expected, but he’d also brought the message that Lord Brighton wanted to see them off, personally. None of them objected to that, of course, though it did leave them with some time to burn as the butler left to go tell the Lord-Protector that they were ready.

Using that time, John and Ela were finally able to tell Moira the full story of their last dungeon run, starting with their departure from the lighthouse, through the fights on the bridge and in the subway, all the way to the monstrous Living Prison that had nearly killed them both. It wasn’t the most pleasant story, but they both wanted to make sure that the Warden knew everything that they did about that strange world.

That also gave them the chance to discuss how they wanted to approach this next expedition.

Moira agreed with their previous decision to follow the paths that the survivors had laid out, working their way across the city. Unless something changed with the quest they’d been given after entering the dungeon, the two maps they’d recovered were probably the closest thing to a suggestion on the “right” way to go that they were going to get. They could give them a starting point, at least.

The first map - the one that John and Ela had taken from the lighthouse and based their dungeon run on - was a full size depiction of the city, one which bore years worth of edits and marks. The couple had used it to trace a path from the lighthouse on the shore inland to the hospital, but its guidance mostly ended there, aside from noting a few other landmark locations that the survivors had been trying to get to deeper in the city.

The second map had been picked up by John and Ela in the director's office of the ruined hospital right at the end of their previous run. It was of a much smaller size than the previous, focused in more detail on just the business section of the city. Though it didn't show any of the mapped routes back to the lighthouse, it stretched much further forward, showing that the survivors had been working on a path from that hospital to a large industrial building on the far side of the business district.

Unfortunately, they'd never finished.

And so that became the trio’s goal.

Importantly to John, he also thought that following the survivor’s work was also the best chance they had of trying to rescue anyone who might still be alive in that horrible place. There were no disagreements with that, either.

With their planning complete, the trio had split up to do some individual preparations.

The Bookworm Knight had moved off to one side, sitting atop an exercise mat as she pulled out the notebook that she and John had found in the lighthouse - one of the last traces of the people who had lived there. She had hoped to learn more about the family that had lived there, and perhaps get an answer as to why they’d been trying to get across the city.

Meanwhile, John and Moira had remained sitting around the first, larger map, spreading it out carefully over a section of the floor so that they could look it over in detail. The Warden wanted to familiarize herself with the city’s layout as best she could, making sure to note landmarks that would help with navigation.

The Gamer had instead focused on trying to find another side area to clear for the bonus objective of his quest. There had been faint marks and smudges around the subway on the map, and so he’d wanted to find something similar to check out.

For better or worse though, he found a couple dozen things that had been changed over time.

All of the annotations had been made by hand, over however long they’d been using it as a reference, so there were many places where they’d made corrections or blocked off areas. He guessed that many were probably warnings for where buildings had collapsed or other environmental hazards had emerged, but he also figured that some also had to be warnings about groupings of monsters.

In the end, John had simply concluded that he would mark down a few nearby areas of potential interest, but they were going to have to do the dirty work of exploring them once they were inside. That wasn’t necessarily an unreasonable ask, since it was supposed to be a bonus objective, but it was going to be a lot more dangerous than if they knew what they were going to find.

After he’d come to that conclusion, he’d decided to get up and stretch his legs, which is when he’d started pacing around the room. Now, all he had to do was wait.

At least I get to switch into comfy clothes while we're waiting. Moira's had her armor on this whole time.’

With another squeak of his boots, he pivoted to start another loop.

“John?” Ela’s voice called, snapping him away from following the red lines painted on the roof.

His girlfriend sat across the room, looking at him from over the edge of the notebook. At some point while he’d been lost in thought, she’d taken her comfortable jacket off, donning her full set of bone-plate armor in preparation for the dungeon ahead. Luckily, the pieces had still all been in her duffel from when she’d taken them off the previous day.

“You know that you will be doing plenty of walking once we are inside the barrier, right?” she sang, teasingly.

“Yeah.” The Gamer shrugged. “I’m just a little antsy. I’ll be alright.”

The Bookworm Knight just smiled and shook her head. Moira looked up from the map to say something, but, before she could, the door to the room opened. Lord Brighton stepped inside with Reginald following close behind. The Lord-Protector’s hands were clasped behind his back, his normal stoic expression firmly locked in place.

Ela was on her feet in an instant, the notebook snapping shut in her hands. Moira was only just behind her, carefully stepping around the map to stand next to the blonde. It took John a second to react, but then he, too, quickly moved over to stand with his companions. The party formed a line, wordlessly, facing the Order’s leader.

The older man nodded at them, his expression softening as he looked at his daughter. “Have you made all your preparations?”

“Yes, Father,” Moira answered as Ela nodded. “We can leave as soon as you give the order.”

She turned to John. “Right?”

The Gamer grinned, his clothes flashing with magic as he swapped back into his armor. “Ready as I'll ever be.

“Uh, actually,” he corrected, looking over to where they'd been seated, to where he'd set down a carefully padded basket.

Stepping away from the group, John walked over and retrieved the phoenix egg from where he'd set it to rest. Carefully, he held it up in front of him as he walked back over to the group, meeting the eyes of the Lord-Protector.

“Lord Brighton, Sir, would you please look after the egg while we are in the dungeon?” he asked. “It is my responsibility to look after it, but I do not think that I can bring it with us in good conscience.”

For a moment, The Gamer’s anxiety told him that he shouldn't have asked him directly, but those thoughts were banished as a rough, calloused hand reached out to grasp the basket’s handle.

“The Lady has willed that this creature be protected. Until your return, I will watch over it in my office.”

John nodded, smiling. “Thank you.”

Lord Brighton held the basket at his side, looking over the group one more time. “If that is all, then you may depart.”

Ela and Moira both nodded, turning to pick up their equipment.

The Warden folded up the map she'd been looking over, passing it to the blonde, who stored it and the notebook she'd been reading away in her bag. In their place, Ela drew out her axe and shield. Moira, meanwhile, reached up to pull the charm from her necklace, her almighty shield forming on her arm in a flash of gold.

As the women prepared their weapons, John turned and walked to the center of the room, swapping to his lantern-headed staff. He frowned as he looked over faint marks of scorch and char that ran down the handle. Still, the same warmth that ran through it before ran through it now.

He took a second to check his UI, making sure that the three of them were in a party and that they were all full on health and mana. Everything checked out.

A tap on his shoulder got his attention, and he turned to find Ela at his side. She offered him the same gas mask she'd loaned to him the previous day, having already put her own on. Smiling, he took it from her and equipped it, looking down as the sigils inscribed upon it glowed for a moment before dimming again.

Heavy metal footsteps signaled Moira's arrival as the redhead walked up on Ela's other side, hammer in hand. John raised an eyebrow, noting that she had no similar air filter.

“The Blessing will protect me,” she stated with absolute confidence.

In unison, the three turned to face Lord Brighton, who stood with Reginald at his flank. They nodded, and he nodded back.

Raising one arm, John took a deep breath and let his mana flow through him.

“Create Dungeon…” he muttered under his breath.

As he cast his spell, a sweeping wave of darkness swallowed the world. The two senior members of the Order disappeared behind the veil in front of their eyes, leaving the trio alone in the black. Moira did her best to hold her composure, but her eyes had widened ever-so-slightly as she looked around the void.

The shine of her silver-steel armor seemed to vanish into the blackness all around them. She took a few steps forward and raised her holy shield, watching its brilliant light diffuse into the formless nothing.

“This is much more intense than I had imagined based on your stories,” the redhead muttered, gently tapping her armored boot on the invisible floor supporting them.

“It's a lot more intense than it was before,” John grumbled, holding his free hand on his stomach. The all-too-familiar vertigo of barrier entry was upon him again.

“I am not so sure,” Ela said, pressing her shoulder to his. “I think that your sensitivity to mana must be increasing.”

He smiled wryly. “Great. I wonder what stat I need to fix that?”

“Give it time,” she reassured him. “You will get used to it.”

John opened his mouth to reply, but was suddenly distracted by the feeling of a ripple running through the transitory world. Like someone had touched the surface of the ocean, ever so carefully.

“You both feel that?” he asked.

“Feel what?” Moira replied, brows furrowing.

Again, the world pulsed around him, but it wasn't harsh or violent, not at all like the struggle he'd witnessed between the Warden and the bard at Ashcroft. This was more clinical, even inquisitive.

“I think your father is testing my barrier,” he said, looking over at Moira.

She nodded. “That would explain his insistence on seeing us off personally.”

“Yeah… I mean, if he wanted to stop us, I have no doubt he'd have done so already, so I guess we're clear.”

The trio grouped up again, standing together as they waited for the world of the dungeon to appear around them.

The first thing they noticed was the cold. Then, the rumbling of distant thunder shook the darkness, and suddenly they were back in the director's office of the ruined hospital.

The bookshelves and desk were still disorganized from last time, as John and Ela had taken back as much as they could to read about this world - not that they'd had a chance to do much of that yet.

The chairs and couches were all as he remembered, even the faint dryness and staleness of the air was the same.

Three sleeping bags had been rolled up off to one side, as if someone had actually slept off the time between their dungeon runs.

’Just like the lighthouse…’ John thought. ’Doesn't seem like anything changed while we were gone.’

The only really big difference he found was that it was freezing now. Faint hints of frost crept up and down the hallway, leaking into the office from the open doorway.

John stepped over to the room’s main window, looking out at the piled snow and ice outside. A massive blizzard had hit the ruined city in the time since they'd been gone. At a more peaceful time, he would have been excited to have so much snow around.

Now, he dreaded what it meant for their journey.

The sky had not yet let up, either. Endless black clouds contrasted the pale white powder falling from them, while mighty cracks of blue lightning continued to dance all around.

Moira’s mouth hung agape as she looked around, facing similar disbelief in the scale of his ability as Ela had felt. She stepped over next to him, looking out at the scale of the devastation.

“You did not do this justice…” the Warden said, placing an armored hand on the glass.

John smiled. “Well, I'm no story teller, but, uh, I do think this place needs to be seen to be believed.”

“I would agree,” Ela said, walking up behind them.

"It's gonna be a nightmare to navigate out there,” he muttered, looking down at the iced-over concrete below. “At least it's not too-”

His voice was cut off as Ela grabbed him from behind, forcefully pulling him backwards with all her strength, green flame flaring in her eyes. At the same time, she kicked outwards, pushing Moira to the side, causing the redhead to stumble sideways away from the window.

Before confusion could even set in, a massive icicle crashed through the window where they'd been standing seconds earlier. A titanic spear of ice that would have torn his legs off without his defenses up now split the floor open. The whole building shook.

The icy wind from outside flooded in, sending snow and glass debris everywhere.

Moira was on her feet in a second, shield up, standing between her comrades and the window.

John and Ela scrambled up behind her, the former starting his [Mana Shield] and preparing a [Lesser Air Burst] while the latter moved to raise her shield at the Warden's side.

“What in the Lady's name was that?!” the redhead shouted.

“I do not know!” Ela replied, her eyes flickering between vibrant shades of green. “Was something waiting for us?”

John scanned the outside carefully, following the spear’s angle upward.

“Up there!” He pointed to the side of an adjacent building.

A creature was hanging there, one massive, clawed hand dug into the concrete to support its entire body weight. At first John thought it was a huge skeleton, but then he realized that its flesh was simply so pale that he'd mistaken it for bone.

Perhaps the poor thing had once been human, but now its flesh was twisted beyond recognition. It had two large, lanky arms that ended in huge, barely human hands with foot-long razor nails on every bulbous finger, while its legs were anemic and frail.

Black tendrils wriggled from every gap in its flesh, holding its muscles together. Its ribs were overgrown at odd angles, a mass of black flesh barely keeping its chest in one piece.

Its head was its most horrifying attribute though. It looked to be two or three times the size of a normal human’s, with strange, imbalanced proportions for what features it still retained.

Its mouth was sewn shut with tense black sinews, writhing beneath its skin. Its eyes and nose were completely gone, with only scarred holes remaining. Pale blue liquid mana, like what the beating heart of the subway had pumped, ran from those empty sockets like blood down its face.

Five human spines stuck out from the back of its skull, waving in the air behind it in a twisted facsimile of hair.

The group stared at it, and it stared back.

“What the hell?!”

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