It had to be close to midnight by the time we finally reached the Holly Hearth.

  The warm, golden light spilling from the windows felt almost obscene after Temp’s bombshell revelation. Inside, the common room was as loud and chaotic as ever—Delvers laughing too hard, chugging mead, and scraping plates clean, while others belted out a song that definitely wasn’t in English. It sounded vaguely German or maybe Scandinavian. Someone spilled a drink, someone else pelted them with a cup in retaliation.

  Life went on.

  Like none of them realized they were living under the bootheel of a tyrannical dickweed, with hostages stashed away like bargaining chips.

  Despite my new Sigil, I couldn’t shake the cold. Not the physical kind, but there was a chill in my chest now. Deep. Bone-rooted. Like something had shifted just a few degrees off true, and I didn’t know if it would ever reset.

  Hannah wasn’t at the bar, which was probably for the best. I wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation, not knowing what I did. Wulfgar was also nowhere to be seen, but there was hot food waiting for us. Carla—Hannah’s assistant—handed us plates piled high with some kind of savory roast and creamy mashed potatoes. There were vegetables, too. Roasted to perfection. Croc gagged at the sight of them and hastily scooped them onto my plate with one rubbery paw.

  “So corpses are fine,” I muttered, “but vegetables is a hard line in the sand?”

  “I’ve got standards, Dan,” Croc replied firmly, “and a very refined palate.”

  I just stared at the mimic.

  “Standards and refined palate?” I repeated incredulously. “I’m not sure those words mean what you think they mean, bud. I once watched you eat a metric ass-load of humanoid spiders with toddler faces. Went to town on ’em like you were at an all you can eat seafood buffet.”

  “Wait a minute,” Croc said, ears perking up, “are you telling me that there are all you can eat buffets? As in you eat until you can’t eat anymore? That sounds like paradise.”

  “Back in the real world, yeah,” I replied. “Though I’’ll bet dollars to donuts there’s probably some fine print about Eldritch Horrors or creatures from other dimensions. Also you’re deflecting. You did eat a giant corpse pile of spider toddlers, right? Or am I misremembering things?”

  “Those spider toddlers tasted like cookies,” Croc said with a sniff. “Besides, I can’t eat vegetables, even if I wanted too—which I don’t. All the fiber gives me terrible gas. Believe me when I tell you that you do not want to be sleeping in the same room as a mimic with terrible gas.”

  Touché. For once, I couldn’t disagree.

  With plates in hand, we excused ourselves and took the food upstairs.

  As we crowded into one of the tiny rooms they’d provided for us, I found myself breathing a heavy sigh of relief. Never had a day had started off so promising only to ended up as such a colossal shitshow. I dropped onto one of the twin beds, the mattress squeaking beneath my weight, and a moment later Harper joined me.

  Temp and Jakob sat across from us on the other narrow bed, while Croc curled up on the floor with its plate. I was dead on my feet, and there was still a mountain of prep to handle before tomorrow—but my stomach had turned into a black hole.

  I damn near inhaled the food, hoovering it down like a shop vac, then licking my fingers clean just to be sure. The roast was tender and packed with flavor, and while the vegetables were a little overcooked and mushy, after going all day without a bite, they tasted like mana from heaven.

  I ate so fast and so much I had to unbutton the top of my jorts just to breathe.

  Once I’d finished stuffing my face like a drunk Marine on shore leave, I set the plate aside, pulled out the Sigils I’d crafted earlier, and laid them out on the nightstand beside the bed.

  “Alright, first things first,” I said, shifting into work mode. “You’ll need to equip these to your Artifacts. They’ll help in the fight against Krampus, but more importantly, they’ll conceal your Spatial Core configurations from Nikoli.”

  Croc frowned, ears drooping. “Dan, I don’t want to cause problems,” the mimic said, sounding genuinely apologetic, “but... I don’t have any Artifacts. Dwellers can use them, but we don’t naturally spawn them. Artifacts need Material Significance, and we don’t have that. We’re not from the real world, remember?”

  I gave the dog a smile, though a wave of sadness settled in my gut—heavy and inexplicable—as I pulled the collar from my pocket.

  “Don’t worry, bud,” I said, handing over the freshly crafted Artifact. “I didn’t forget. I made this for you.”

  Croc extended a paw that morphed into an unsettlingly human hand and accepted the collar. The mimic ran a thumb over the nameplate, then turned it over to read the engraving on the back.

  “Dan’s best friend,” Croc said softly, voice catching.

  The dog looked up at me, and even though googly eyes shouldn’t be able to cry, somehow, they were leaking.

  “Do... do you really mean that, Dan?”

  “With all my heart.”

  “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Croc said softly. “It’s even better than the Froyo or the corpse piles.” The dog hesitated. “But if you made a rare-grade Artifact doesn’t that mean you had to give up a really important memory?”

  I nodded.

  “Which one was it?” Croc asked.

  I shook my head. “Can’t remember, but if it keeps you safe, I’m sure it was worth it.” I paused for a beat. “Can I help you put it on?”

  “It would be my honor,” Croc said, scooting close enough for me to fasten the collar around its rubbery neck. I clicked the latch into place and some of the cold nestled deep inside my bones seemed to seep away. I had no doubt this place would try to take more from me, but as long as I had Croc—had friends who cared about me—I knew I wouldn’t ever lose my way. Not completely.

  “Alright,” I said, “how about we get started upgrading some of your Relics?”

  Temperance practically launched herself off the bed. “Me first!” she squealed, pulling a Relic from her Spatial Core in a flash of golden light. She handed over a swirling orb buzzing with dark energy, Ball of Dire Mosquitoes.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Any way to make this more lethal?” she asked hopefully. “Ideally, I want all the Dire Mosquitoes to have tiny knives strapped to their legs. Does that seem realistic?”

  I chuckled as I took the Relic. “I can’t promise bladed insects, but I’ll see what I can do. I’ll need any extra Relics you’re not using—and that goes for all of you. The more raw materials I’ve got, the better the upgrades. I’ll also need Relic Shards. I burned through my stock at the forge, and I want to make replicas first.”

  “Replicas?” Jakob asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “We’ll use the originals for the Krampus fight, so Nikoli doesn’t get suspicious. Then, once we’re clear, you swap to the upgrades before we move on the Soul Forge.”

  “Whatever,” Temp said, eyes gleaming. “Less talking, more bladed insects.” She opened her Storage and started dumping unused Relics onto the floor like a kid emptying out a toy chest.

  “Alright,” I said, cracking my knuckles. “Let’s work some Backrooms magic.”

  Between the three of them, they’d amassed a truly impressive collection of unused Relics—some I’d never even heard of.

  Before I could start the real work, though, I had to fabricate duplicates. I was exhausted and doing it without a crafting table made things harder, but not impossible. A few minutes later, I had a second Ball of Dire Mosquitoes ready to go. I handed it back to Temperance, then turned to the stockpile of amassed Relics, picking through the mess until I found a few that resonated.

  That’s when the real fun began.

  There were a ton of possible combinations, and though I didn’t find anything that would allow her Dire Mosquitoes the ability to wield cutlery, there were two that practically screamed with an unholy Synergy—an Uncommon called Health Eater and another Uncommon, Chick-nado, which resembled a colorfully painted Easter egg. That last one conjured a small whirlwind filled with furious chickens, who dealt piercing and slashing damage and had a five percent chance of afflicting their victims with Avian Syphilis.

  When forged with Ball of Dire Mosquitoes, they formed a new Relic called Biblical Pestilence. It was a Fabled-grade ability that summoned an all-consuming cloud of ravenous murder locust, that would eat and burrow through victims, afflicting them with Bloodrot Malaria while simultaneously converting a portion of damage into life for the user. Although Temperance was understandably disappointed that the locust didn’t wield razor blades, she was happy with the end result.

  Next up was Butcher’s Cleaver. I started by duplicating the original, then fused it with Tenderize, Escalation of Force, and a third Relic called Spinal Tap. The result was Flesh Frenzy. Surprisingly, it only ranked as Rare-grade, but it was a serious upgrade. When activated, it ignored 25% of the target’s physical resistance, dealt an extra 30 points of slashing damage on contact, and after three consecutive hits, applied a stack of Tenderized—increasing all incoming physical damage by 30% for 15 seconds.

  Efficient. Brutal. And a perfect fit for Temp.

  The best upgrade, by far though, was for her Smallpox Blanket.

  Jakob happily offered up a Relic called Plague Daddy, which increased the virulency of all disease-based abilities, while Harper apologetically handed over the truly disturbing Diarrhea Beam—“Yes, it’s real. No, we’re not proud.”

  Patient Zero

  Fabled Relic – Level 4

  Range: Touch

  Cost: 45 Stamina

  Cooldown: 2 Minutes

  With one touch, you become ground zero for the end of someone’s very gross, very short future. When activated, Patient Zero delivers a devastating Plague Burst on contact, dealing a catastrophic 50 points of disease-based damage and causing oozing, necrotic lesions to erupt across your target’s skin like some sort of body horror popcorn.

  The target is afflicted with a particularly virulent strain of Bubonic Plague. Not the weak, history textbook version. We’re talking turbo-charged, magically enhanced, liquefy-your-organs-from-the-inside Bubonic plague. Victims will suffer from massive Internal Hemorrhaging for 120 seconds, dealing an additional 50 points of disease damage for the duration of the spell effect. That’s two full minutes of leaking out of every available orifice, plus a few surprise ones!

  Great for boss fights, hostage rescues—assuming you hate the hostage—and family reunions you don’t want to attend.

  This Relic Enables Mana usage.

  And so it went.

  I could barely keep my eyes open, but despite how worn out I was, we worked through the night and into the early morning hours.

  Jakob’s Uncommon Cow Catcher ability became the sustainably more powerful Bullrush Blitz—a Fable-grade charge attack that caused Knockback and dealt additional bludgeoning damage. Facebreaker became Bash to the Future—a devastating shield bash, that dealt blunt damage and had a 50% chance to stun affected targets for 10 seconds—while Bloodbank received an upgrade to Overdraft Protection.

  Fabled Relic – Level 3

  Range: Self

  Cooldown: 1 Month

  Dying is for quitters. And you are far too dumb to just lay down and die like a normal person.

  When some eldritch horror, bloodthirsty death knight, or flying urinal with teeth finally punches your ticket, Overdraft Protection punches back. When your hit points reach zero, this emergency fail-safe kicks in like a life-saving backup generator, automatically reviving you at 25% of your Max Health, clearing all status effects, and granting a temporary +20% Movement Speed buff for 20 seconds. Someone is really going to deeply regret not double-tapping your bloated, blood-stained corpse.

  Always remember, you might die like a loser, but you’ll come back as a legend!

  Unfortunately, I only managed to upgrade one of Harper’s Relics before the ache in my head had grown so bad that I couldn’t see through the pain anymore. Still, I wanted to make sure we got the most bang for our buck, so I focused on her healing ability.

  Duct Tape Triage was powerful and versatile but had one fatal flaw—it could only heal surface wounds and couldn’t touch internal injuries or cure status effects. But I’d stockpiled a ton of other, lesser healing Relics that could help shore-up its shortcomings. When forged with Embalmer’s Anesthesia, Crude Stitch, Pharmacist’s Scales, and—interestingly—a Rare-grade item identifying Relic call Pawnshop Appraisal, it created something that was far more well-rounded.

  Field Surgeon’s Scalpel

  Fabled Relic – Level 1

  Range: 10 Meters

  Cost: 40 Mana

  Cast Time: 2 Seconds

  Cooldown: 30 Seconds

  Ever try patching up a sucking chest wound with half a bottle of whiskey and a sewing kit you stole from a hotel room? Well, the ol’ timey Field Surgeon sure as shit has. And somehow, against all odds and common sense, it works. I really shouldn’t—not if Gray’s Anatomy has taught us anything—but here we are. Broken bones. Emergency battlefield amputations. Horrific napalm burns. There isn’t much this bad boy can’t fix.

  Field Surgeon’s Scalpel is the no-frills, back-alley miracle for when some dumbass decided to fistfight a goddamned woodchipper or got frisky with a trap labeled “Do Not Touch.” It won’t regrow limbs, or missing bits and bobbles, but it will heal up to 500 points of Health, re-knit fractured bones, suture ruptured organs, and purge most common status effects—including bleeding, poison, disease, paralysis, and “I did something stupid and now I’m melting.”

  But it comes with a catch. Sure, it’ll heal what ails you, but it’s going to leave an evidence trail of your jackassery. Scars, burns, and pockmarks remain as a gnarly reminder that you should probably think twice before attempting to fight a dire bear with a camping spork.

  This Relic enables Mana usage.

  By the time I was done forging that last Relic, I was delirious and as weak as a newborn kitten. I hadn’t recovered from my time in Nikoli’s workshop, and I’d pushed myself past my own physical limitations. I wanted to crawl back to my bed and sleep for a week, but I couldn’t even muster the strength of will to stand on my own two feet.

  Instead, I collapsed on the lumpy twin mattress.

  Harper hit me with a dose of Field Surgeon’s Scalpel, but it didn’t do a damned thing. I wasn’t missing any HP and in the most technical sense of the word there wasn’t anything wrong with me. Truth was, the human body could only be pushed so far, and I’d hit the wall.

  While the others murmured quietly around me, I let my eyes slip shut and fell dead to the world.