Double-Blind: A Modern LITRPG

Chapter 273

Chapter 273

Talia padded alongside Nick, ears up, nostrils flaring. She was manifested in her true form, white and gold fur rippling as she kept pace at his thigh. The two of them together made a picture straight off the cover of a fantasy novel: The Ceaseless Knight and his elegant talking animal companion.

Other than Nick and Talia, the rest of us maintained a single-file marching order, not unlike the ants we supposedly mimicked, trying to match behavior to appearance. Lucas took up the middle in front of Julien, while I brought up the rear.

I watched mutely as a small trail of ants passed by us, each approximately waist height. So far, at least, between the hex and the marching order, our precautionary measures seemed to be working. The invertebrates were oddly scarce and for the most part paid little attention to us.

It was odd, though. Because despite the honeycombing network of passageways and tunnels, there didn’t seem to be nearly enough of them. Part of me wondered if this was nothing more than my own bad habit of looking a gift horse in the mouth, but every time I was about to disregard the notion, there was a slight buzzing from Not enough to sound the alarm, but from my prior experience with the title, I kept my guard up.

For the most part, the team we’d put together seemed competent. Julien and Lucas both had no issue with following Nick’s cues.

The only problem—and I hesitate to call it a problem—was that Lucas seemed dissatisfied with the lack of action, and couldn’t seem to stop running his mouth.

Once the most recent ants were far in the rearview, he started up again, like clockwork. “As usual, Charlotte’s ‘help’ was completely unnecessary. These tunnels are a ghost town.”

From behind, I saw Julien’s fist clench at his side.

“Whole point of prep is it’s better to need it and not have it, then have it and not need it.” Nick shrugged.

“And we may still need it.” Julien agreed. “Not exactly a bug expert, but I’m guessing we’ll see the most resistance closest to the queen.”

“Dunno big guy.” Lucas elbowed Julien. “Could definitely see you as an insectologist.”

“Entomologist.” Nick corrected, at the same moment I said “Myrmecologist.”

I shrugged. “Same difference, tighter category.”

“Fuck me, I’m surrounded by nerds.” Lucas groaned.

“One in every group.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

The jab at Lucas was unnecessary, but if I was honest, he was wearing on my nerves as well. I knew what he was. The sort of person who agreed to a difficult task almost exclusively because it gave them something to complain about. Harmless. But that didn’t make it any less annoying.

Lucas walked backward, doing his best to stare me down. “Got a problem, Page?”

I snorted. “The second transposition event is a problem. Organizing the regions before said event hits is a problem. You are not a problem.”

From the way his face darkened, Lucas didn’t like that. He was about to say as much before Nick interrupted. “Speaking from experience, I can confidently advise not starting an argument with the guy who runs practice LSAT questions to pass the time.”

“Whatever.” Lucas turned his back to me. “It’s always the smartasses that crumble fastest when the action hits.”

No self-awareness whatsoever. It’s honestly kind of impressive.

Julien slowed, staring down a side passage. Further down the tunnel was the silhouette of an ant, roaming in panicked meandering circles. It wasn’t the first time we’d seen this behavior, but the queer feeling of wrongness washed over me just the same.

“Another off the trail. How many does that make now?” Julien asked.

“Four.” I answered. “Thirteen if we’re counting the ones that seem sluggish and drunk.”

“You kept count?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded in approval, lips quirked in concern. “It’s a little weird, right?”

“Maybe.” I wanted to say more, but for the moment all I had was a gut feeling with little evidence to speak of. “If there're hundreds, it might not be that strange for that many to have a screw loose. Odd that we keep seeing them, though our sample size is in the low fifties, so we may not have an accurate picture.”

“So, bide our time and assume system fuckery.”

I raised an eyebrow. Having thoroughly learned my lesson about keeping my paranoia to myself, I’d been on the verge of voicing something similar. Julien kept hitting all the right notes, like he wasn’t even trying. Suspicious. But not unwelcome.

“Exactly.”

For once, Lucas had nothing pithy to say. Maybe the sense of uneasiness had gotten to him like the rest of us, or maybe he was just tired of the sound of his own voice. Nick froze in place and held a fist up, directing us to the cover of an upturned mound of dirt before a half-dozen ants scampered through the intersection in front of us. It took a second to identify them as the addled, scrambled variety, largely because they were moving quicker and less aimlessly.

“Okay, that looked organized.” Nick squinted, stretching up to take another look before dropping back down.

“Something pissed them off.” Julien agreed. “Or someone.”

“Nobody should be this far in.” I shook my head. Then waited, giving my mind time to work as I isolated a single image, no more than a flicker from the last ant to cross our paths. Like the rest, they should have only had three segments—abdomen, the lumpy, trunk-like center, and the head. But I could have sworn I’d seen four. I poked at Lucas, using the disruptive element of the group to stall while I worked through it. “Thoughts?”

“How the fuck would I know? Maybe it’s aphid milking hour or something?”

I cocked my head. Despite fully expecting the verbal equivalent of hot garbage to come spewing out of his mouth, that wasn’t the worst theory. It was wrong of course. But not half-bad.

However, Nick and Julien were both holding in laughter.

“Milk them? Like… cows?” Nick wiped a mirthful tear away as Lucas scowled.

“I’m imagining a full factory farm setup, only with aphids instead of livestock.” Julien grinned.

“To be fair, some species do that. Not saying that’s what’s going on here, but it’s possible.” I spoke up despite myself. It wasn’t about helping Lucas, exactly, just making sure the others weren’t dunking on him when he was actually throwing out legitimate ideas.

“Ah.” Julien elbowed Lucas as his eyes glazed over and he reviewed the route the Court had cooked up. “Who’s the myrmecologist now?”

Lucas muttered something almost imperceptible that sounded like “fucking magic school bus.”

“Well. We have two options. Follow the war party, or stay on route.” Nick chewed his lip.

“Or both.” Julien said, still focused on the map. “Easy detour in the direction they headed. Assuming their end destination isn’t too far away, we could follow, observe, then be back on the path.”

“Not gonna reveal the origins of this highly convenient map?” I pushed a little, keeping my voice casual. A route directly to the suspected boss room was one thing. But Julien seemed to have in-depth knowledge of the tunnel system. Anything I could glean about a highly placed User’s abilities or class was valuable information to have. But the way Lucas visibly recoiled, I got the sense that I’d touched on something sensitive.

“Told you.” Julien grinned, giving nothing away. “We have excellent trackers.”

Nothing I picked up even hinted that the question bothered him. But from the way Lucas’s head swiveled like a spectator on a tennis court, I decided on instinct not to press further. “Fair enough. More information is always better than less.” I looked to Nick. “Let’s divert—follow until we have a better idea of what they’re doing and why, or it takes us too far out of the way.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

We followed the train of ants from a distance, trailing, the feeling in my stomach growing more sour the longer we observed them.

“Try to relax.” Julien looked over to me, pitching his voice low. When I glared at him, he shrugged. “Stress is bad for your skin.”

“I’ll exfoliate.” I snapped back, a little more vehemently than I needed to. Still, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Something about there being two distinctive groups of these things bothers you.”

Hesitantly, I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Care to share with the class?”

When it came to dungeons, the system didn’t care about creating a realistic or viable ecosystem. Not unlike a video game, the intention was to create set-dressing convincing enough that the User clearing the floor didn’t couldn’t see the matrix. Given that, it often relied on stereotypes to create a false sense of security, emphasis on false. Because there was always some sort of twist. The fact that it was telegraphing something off this early alone made me uneasy. I did my best to convey this without sounding like a crazy person, and Julien just nodded, looking troubled as he absorbed it.

Instinct, rather than logic.

“Matt, worst-case scenario?” Nick said. From the curtness in his voice, he was feeling the same thing.

“Won’t be great for morale.” I warned him.

“We’re past that.”

I blew air through my lips. “Absolute worst case? Some play on zombie ants.”

“What the actual fuck?” Lucas said.

“There's a real world basis to draw from. A type of fungus and parasitic wasps.” Almost thoughtlessly, I reached in my inventory and withdrew four antifungal philters, passing them around. Nick downed his immediately while the other two hesitated. “Obviously, I’m leaning more towards fungus than wasps. We haven’t seen any larvae and the wasps use that to propagate. Fungus would be a serious problem, because there’s no guarantee it only works on ants, and there’s no guarantee the spores would be visible.”

In other words, we could already be infected.

At that, both the new additions from the court popped their philters and drank, grimacing at the taste.

My heart sank, as I watched the trail of agitated ants suddenly curve, skittering legs taking them directly down a side passage.

“It’s a side chamber with no outlet.” Julien said, frowning at the map. “Maybe that’s the end of the line?”

Emboldened, Nick approached the chamber, the rest of us following behind. There was an audible crunch that echoed down the tunnel and he cringed. We waited, listening for movement. After hearing nothing, he muttered. “Floor’s different here.”

Something twisted in my gut. Forgoing the marching order, I jogged up next to him, eyes glued to the ground. From far away, it looked no different than the dirt. Studying it up close, however, revealed something as alien as it was alarming. Layers upon layers of chitin, folded on top of each other to give the appearance of terrain. I could make out bits of legs, eyes, and antennae mixed in with the slurry.

I nearly lost my balance as my stomach flip-flopped, leaning against the side of the tunnel for support, a wave of nausea overtaking me as a very different memory rose from my subconscious, suppressed but never fully gone.

Nick bent down next to me and whispered, his voice barely audible. “Is it…”

Not a fungus, not even close. It’s eldritch.

I forced myself forward, taking the first look inside the chamber. Despite their formerly clunky movements, the sporadic ants were organized in their efforts, forming a half circle. They surrounded a major, easily three times their size. The major backed away in confusion until his abdomen pressed against the chitinous back wall.

As one, the aberrations curled their abdomens over their heads, spraying the major with a dark black gunk. The large ant in the center recoiled and turned in an immediate attempt to run, only to collapse.

Its aggressors didn’t attempt to savagely pull it apart, as I’d half expected. They peppered it with a multitude of bites, but the bites were firm, held for a second and then released, not unlike the method a mother dog might use to discipline her brood.

They’re trying to keep it intact

More than enough for confirmation. I gestured for the rest of them to follow back to the main path, barely keeping the nausea and terror at bay. Thanks to the overseer’s broadcast of the situation in region six, it didn’t take long before they connected the dots.

Nick looked like someone punched him in the face, while Lucas looked as close to the verge of panic as I was.

“We have to go back. Warn everyone.” Nick said, looking fully prepared to sprint all the way back to Basecamp.

“No. That’s exactly what we need to avoid.” I clenched a fist.

“This isn’t the time for coy shit, Matt—”

“Listen to me. Word gets out before we have our ducks in a row, it’s chaos. Especially the region six connection. More than anything else, keep that to yourselves. Someone infected slips down the elevator in the mayhem and the entire city is fucked.” I looked to Julien and Lucas. “You’ve both spent more time in camp than I have. How many people have been injured, leaving room for error?”

They exchanged glances. After a moment, Julien cleared his throat. “Less than ten, on the conservative side.”

“Assume twenty.” My mind raced as I recalled the encounter with the Adventurer’s Guild Users earlier, how they’d wanted to get back into the action immediately. “Cross-reference with the healers. Keep in mind there’s a good chance that not all injuries were reported. Look for anyone walking in a strange way, favoring one side or another, wincing as they move, any tell. Lock the exit down. No one gets in or out.” I started to pace. “The Duskblade Knight and the Queen. How are they in a crisis?”

“Their arguments suddenly disappear.” Lucas rolled his eyes.

“Will they stay put?” I rounded on him.

“If we hint how important it is, they will.” Julien said.

I nodded. “Park them in front of the elevators. Out of everyone, they command the most respect and they’re the most intimidating. We need a full accounting of everyone present and anyone that might be missing. Any User who’s received medical care since arriving needs to be isolated, sedated, and monitored.”

“Guessing you’re telling us all this here instead of back at camp for a reason.” Julien observed.

I ground my teeth. The point of going over it this way was burying the lede, because I knew Nick wouldn’t like the next part.

Julien continued to jump ahead, understanding dawning in his eyes. “You still want to scout the boss.”

Lucas’s eyes bugged out. “Are you insane?”

Just as expected, Nick immediately squared off with me. Trauma-fueled terror took over. “Hell no. No way we’re splitting the party for a scouting op. This takes precedence.”

Judging from their collective body-language and the way they hesitated, it was obvious I was losing them. Best bet was to put everything on the table. “Think about how fast this thing spread. An entire region was overtaken in a matter of hours. Just because there’s less right now doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way. I’d stake my life on that. So, no, we’re not scouting the boss. We’re killing it. And we have to do it now.”

“Matt—” Nick started again. He had every right to be afraid.

It wasn’t a card I wanted to pull. But I leaned in and whispered in his ear, playing it anyway. “We’re out of time. Let. Me. Work.”

Nick stiffened and pulled away, his mouth tight, looking vaguely hurt. He knew I was referencing our deal to combine our methods to do whatever was needed to end this before the second event. In that detached, theoretical moment, he’d agreed. Simple fact was, it was a lot more difficult in practice.

But Nick didn’t argue. When he spoke, he purposely looked away from me. “Okay. Where do we go from here?”

Julien mused aloud. “More importantly, how many people do we send back?”

“Much as I hate to say this… it has to be me.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “People in both camps listen to me. I’m already going over the order of who I need to talk to and how.”

“I’ll go with him.” Lucas immediately volunteered, visibly sweating.

Julien rolled his eyes. “Of course. Not like we could use the extra firepower.”

Talia stepped forward, giving Lucas serious side-eye as she gravitated towards the center. “As a summon, I am immune to most status effects and can simply be re-summoned if I die.” She looked at Nick. “May I remain with the attack team?”

Nick nearly missed the fact the question was being directed at him instead of me, but recovered quickly. “That’s probably for the best.”

“Can you handle a boss?” I turned and asked Julien point blank. From context and some whispers I’d heard around the Order’s compound, I already knew he was monstrously strong. On the upper echelon alongside Nick. But more importantly, he seemed to have a better-than-average head on his shoulders, with little ego to speak of. Given the stakes, further bolstered by the fact he appeared to be in deep thought rather than answering immediately, I’d probably get an honest answer. “If you can, I’ll do everything possible to support you. I’ve seen Talia in action enough to know she’s fairly strong, so between the two of us you won’t be solo. If you can’t, that’s okay. My instinct is to have all four of us return together, wrangle a few other heavy-hitters and do this the hard way. But we’ll lose the benefits of a stealth approach.”

“… And significantly increase the group’s risk of exposure. A group filled with strong Users. Fuck.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Uh. I feel… uncomfortable making that assessment.”

Good.

“Realistically, there’s no way for me to know.” The color of his eyes was almost clear in the lighting, entirely unreadable. “Assuming the boss is a simple bump in difficulty from the floor below, then, yeah. Easy enough. But there’s no guarantee it will be. And if you’re right about this floor being completely overtaken in a short time, whether we throw twenty people at it or two people and a summon, this is our only shot.” He cocked his head. “It’s a question of harm reduction now. And, being frank, if the three of us can’t handle it together, I’m not sure throwing more people at the problem would do anything other than increase our casualties and put both groups in a worse position for the second event. I think we go for it. Do or die.”

This was the outcome I’d wanted. But something about it made my mouth go dry.

“Then we need to move.” I said.

Julien nodded.

He’d repeated my reasoning almost verbatim. Between an anti-eldritch summon, the Ordinator, and a high-ranking member of the court, I was pretty sure we had this. But Julien shouldn’t have known any of that. To him I was just a low-ranking member of the court, and Talia was a magical wolf. I thought back over our interactions, reviewing everything I’d said and done since our first encounter, finding nothing he could have possibly drawn the conclusion from.

Maybe he really was just that confident in his abilities, and had included me and Talia in the estimation to be polite.

It was either that, or we had a serious fucking problem.