Chapter 111: Book 2 Chapter 18 - Tell Me How I'm Supposed To Forgive.

Bella sat in a cage so cramped her chin touched her knees. The metal writhed against her skin like cockroaches under a bedsheet. Cold. Burning cold everywhere it touched. Darkness and moans pressed against her senses.

She had fallen into the dark when they swung toward the exit. A burning in her eyes and then she slipped. A hand slapped against hers — she wasn’t sure who — but though she reached out, she just kept falling.

And falling.

Into the yawning abyss beneath the Barbeque Pit as the dark folded around her and tighter and cramped until she sat inside the hunched cage feeling as her bones creaked on the verge of snapping.

But that wasn’t the worst part, no, the worst part was that she wasn’t alone.

Pressed up against her so close they shared skin, was Oriz.

“This is your fault,” Bella mumbled since she could hardly move her jaw.

“I know,” Oriz replied in the same half-enunciated tones.

“I said to open the door. It was all a trick.”

“But you didn’t open the door.”

No, she hadn’t. The idea had come so surely to her, but then it had faded when Zoe dismissed it. What was that? She hadn’t always been so anxious, but lately, her resolve was as insubstantial as the shadow and water she incorporated.

“What happens when we level up?”

“We lose ourselves.”

“Huh?”

“We trade our souls for the Crimson Armada’s power, a percentage at a time until we are wholly theirs. They say with a hundred levels and with five mountains you can become a system yourself.”

“Can you?”

Oriz shifted, but they were so close that the action only rubbed her against Bella. Alien skin against hers, both their hearts racing in the confines of the cage.

“I want to believe, but… the trinity has been the trinity for as long as anyone knows.”

[We require something special in a candidate, something more than mere levels and power. If it was as simple as climbing a ladder, then where would be the fun? Where would be the gamble?]

Oriz didn’t respond, so Bella knew the words were private. She shuddered as the Gambler’s words slid down her spine like the caress of a finger. Was this why he picked on her? An immortal cosmic being pulling her hair like some infatuated child…

Teenage her would have lost her mind with joy to receive such information. But she shuddered.

[Time takes everything, does it not? But that is what I offer you at the heights of the ladder… time]

“Are you alright?” Oriz asked. “I know you’re mad at me.”

The Gambler’s voice, his offer, his maddening presence, faded.

“You threatened to kill me.”

“You goaded the Gambler!”

“And what do you think sticking your hand in that hole was? You think you’re any better than me after the stunt you pulled?”

“…”

“Well?”

“I panicked.”

“You’re supposed to be the wise one.”

“I never went on the Gambler’s show. I only ever met the Smith, and that was so long ago it feels like a bad dream. The lives you’re living are insane.”

Bella blinked. Of course, their lives were insane. The apocalypse had turned their lives inside out. What alternative was there but to fight against the insanity?

Though of course, she hadn’t been so strong as to fight. It was easier to lash out at someone than it was to be the person deciding.

“How do we get out of here?”

Oriz laughed, a weird, sad sound with her jaw pressed closed.

“I don’t think we do.”

[That is where you lovely, rambunctious ladies are ever so wrong]

Light shredded the darkness, and they fell onto a ratty red carpet. A haze in the air of cigarettes, menthols, marijuana, opium, incense, and other more exotic, unnameable spices. Through this smoky atmosphere, a thousand lights glowed like cherries on a neon tree. Bella stood, her cramped muscles recovering with the fluidity of her Skein, and stared at the vast rows of slot machines surrounding her. The bright lights of all colors blinked and flashed and rattled off chimes. The shag carpet stretched away, curving upward until the horizon was just a wall of machines and neon and shambling figures with eyes burning with the saddest hope imaginable. The curve of the floor continued until Bella strained her neck and stared straight up.

Another her looked down with a grin she didn’t like.

[Behold! The majesty of my hells!]

[If you survive until the next round of the Magnifying Glass, you may rejoin your teams and compete]

The Bella above her dropped to all fours and started sprinting.

“I know you don’t like me,” Oriz said. “But I’d like to survive this.”

Bella sighed.

“Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“What?”

“Run!”

The clone Bella grinned as it gained on them. Bella pushed Oriz and ran away through the alleys of slot machines as they rang out with spilled coins and cheap bells. The world stretched out until it wrapped around and there were no exits.

In her mind, as she ran, the Gambler laughed.

[I wish you luck!]

###

Gool’s gifted needle flashed in the air as it stitched together a suit of clothes from the midnight exoskeleton. The silver eye of Anton’s technique floated above but its light didn’t penetrate the dark chiton.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Tell me what you’re talking about,” Zoe said. “Why should we kill Jack?”

“First, he tried to kill us when we met him.”

“He was under the influence of the demon.”

“Are you making excuses for him?”

Zoe frowned.

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

“Are you compromised?”

“What does that mean?” Zoe glowered at the eye. “He’s hot, but he’s a stranger. We went through the Gambler’s show together, so I think we can trust him.”

“I think he pushed Bella.”

Zoe opened her mouth and closed it without speaking as a numbness spread through her and took control of her tongue.

“He was the one closest to her as we all gripped each other,” Anton continued. “And now? As we’re fighting the mantis, he keeps creating distance whenever I need help. His technique is offensive, mine is not. I don’t trust him.”

It was like a wind howled through Zoe’s ears and she struggled to be heard over the sound.

“You think he killed Bella?”

The silver eye paused.

“I don’t think Bella’s dead, but whatever happened to her, it’s Jack’s fault.”

Zoe clenched and unclenched her fists. As they opened, little indentations where her nails dug into her palms, and the needle flashed into her hand.

[Crafting complete!]

[Gool’s Monstrous Tailor will resume function in 24 hours]

“Anton, deactivate your technique and come find me in a few minutes. I’m getting changed.”

“I can just look away.”

Her Willpower spiked as she swung a hand through his eye and shattered the technique with a burst of static. It wasn’t polite behavior, but she wasn’t feeling polite. In the snow, surrounded by the corpses of bugs, she stripped down.

The silvery fish skin suit Gool made for her in purgatory was torn and tattered, most noticeably the holes punched in by the Gambler’s hand. A wound that had survived even the fires of [Fools Rush In]. It made her shudder to think what kind of assault they would need to attack the avatar of the System directly.

If it was even possible.

As snowflakes landed and melted on her dark brown skin, she examined the midnight dress the needle prepared for her. There were long sleeves and a hood, and the dress came down to her knees. A pair of matching boots lay on the ground which she slipped into gratefully.

She couldn’t be sure how the needle turned the hard, inflexible material into something so soft, but as she scrutinized it she saw thousands of sequins that swallowed the light rather than reflect.

The dress was comfortable, and perfectly tailored.

[Dress of the Midnight Mantis]

[Crafted by an expert tailor’s tool, this outfit will silence sound created by the wearer and offer a bonus to stealth when worn in the darkness. It serves as light armor because of the scaled nature of its construction]

Zoe was almost happy as Anton’s new silver eye darted toward her out of the trees. His silhouette moved in the distance, and behind him trailed Jack.

What was she supposed to do?

Her fists clenched, and her hunger hissed inside her muscles, begging her to take -- lives, skein, anything! She kept waiting for the voice of reason as they came closer, but then… Bella had fallen. The voice of humanity on her shoulder was gone.

How was she supposed to keep going in this world when it was all about killing?

Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow slipped behind a tree. She whirled, saw nothing, and launched herself toward the tree. A chain-wrapped fist shattered the trunk. Wooden splinters flew about her and a mantis egg splattered as it struck the ground. She had to wrestle with herself to calm down.

If she let her rage swallow her she wouldn’t stop. Might and metal had made train tracks of her mind. She had to be careful about which direction she took.

In the snow behind the tree lay a perfect set of dog tracks, they led away from the tree, but Zoe had seen no dog flee.

The boys arrived, and Zoe pointed at Anton.

“Did you see a dog on your way?” She gestured at his silver eyes orbiting the perimeter. “Do you see one now?”

“What? There’s nothing but bugs.”

She huffed and looked around.

“Nice dress,” Jack said. “You look stunning.”

She wanted to smile; she wanted to frown, but she settled for nodding.

“Thanks, a friend made it for me.”

“Think he could make me some clothes? I need a new set.”

“Tomorrow,” if Jack lived that long. What was she thinking? Did she really want to plot people’s deaths as they stood in front of her? “Anton, which way to the arm?”

Anton’s eyes searched her face, but she had no answer to give him.

“I’ll lead,” he replied.

###

Trinch’s left arm stood atop a tower of bones. The ground funneled down, a steep and twisting gorge that sank hundreds of feet, and at the bottom rose a stack of misshapen skulls, ribs, spines, femurs, pelvises, tibias, and she could keep naming. Where did all the skeletons come from? Or did Trinch’s arm generate them?

Purple light beat down from the sky and deepened the shadows. Each edge sharpened under the light until it seemed a stack of knives. Several mantis corpses lay on the pile, each one drained and withered as though it had been there for days.

Zoe blinked, and the stack grew taller as the pit grew deeper. She could feel the thrumming of the earth through the soles of her midnight boots.

“The longer we wait, the larger it will grow.”

“I’m trying to figure out if there’s a trick,” Anton said as he cast his eyes down.

Jack leaned over the lip of the slope. It was steep enough, but snow and ice made a slippery slide down toward the bones.

“What do you mean by a trick?” Jack asked as he stepped back from the edge. “Looks like we have to get to the top of the pile.”

“But the slope will make us fall into the bones.”

“Sure.”

“And it looks like those bones have some kind of effect.”

Jack nodded.

“So we just avoid touching the bones?”

“But then how do we get to the top?”

Jack judged the distance, and Zoe judged Jack. This was the first time she saw him thinking and trying to solve a problem. Anton’s accusation echoed in the back of her head.

It would be so easy to push him. One hand could solve one problem. She could even use a time loop to interrogate him, but she had no experience with interrogation — and she didn’t want any. And besides, she only had eight time loops remaining. It had been foolish to use one on the Gambler, she couldn’t be so reckless with such a precious resource.

She bit her lip. In this new world of magic and monsters, it felt strange to surrender to mundane uncertainty.

“I think we jump,” Jack said. “Zoe you’re the strongest, you should be able to make the leap, and your chain will let you adjust if you slip.”

Zoe nodded.

“But there’s an extra problem, isn’t there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Those mantises could fly, but now they’re dead. So, what got them?”

Jack shrugged.

“Just use your mirror technique. I’ll fill the space with my burning petals, and Anton can keep an eye out.”

Anton gave her a look.

“Hmmm.”

Zoe bent down and dug her fingers through the frozen earth and pulled up a chunk the size of a bowling ball. She tossed it underarm toward the bones beneath them. The frozen loam plummeted. A furry green tentacle whipped out and wrapped around the rock just before it touched the bones. It withdrew into the mound and left the frozen loam impaled on a grotesque tusk. As they watched, the dirt disintegrated as the bone sucked moisture from within.

“Well,” Jack said. “That makes things harder.”