No one argued.

  We bolted, sprinting down the catwalk like the hallway itself was on fire. Harper recast Blessing of the White Hunt, increasing our movement speed as blue sparks of energy trailed off her staff. Temperance didn’t even bother to sheath her blade, clutching it as she ran, ready to hack through anything that tried to get in our way.

  Behind us, I heard the scrape of metal and the pounding of heavy limbs. The Sentinel was coming, and from the sound of it, it was a hell of a lot faster than anything that size had a right to be.

  I threw a glance over my shoulder and immediately wished I hadn’t. The hulking mass of the Sentinel filled the corridor behind us, its heavily muscles legs pumping rhythmically as its three petal-maws snapped open and shut like the jaws of an arboreal Tyrannosaurus Rex. Plasma cannons whined as they charged, and every instinct in my body screamed that we were one bad step away from being roasted alive.

  The lesser drones skittered behind it, like a living shadow of scampering legs and hungry mouths.

  “Keep moving!” I yelled, already ripping a stack of spell cards from my belt. “And Jakob, get ready with Gravity Well for when it fires those plasma cannons.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I sent a trio of Balloon Menagerie Spell Cards spinning out, along with a single Hurt Locker Spell Card, which would slow the Sentinel by 15% and make it 20% more vulnerable to elemental damage… like fire. Next time I was manufacturing cards, however, I planned to make a deck that specialized in crowd control. Honestly, I’d spent enough time running from monsters that I probably should’ve already had something like that in my arsenal.

  Temperance quick cast Puritanical Chains, momentarily slowing the creature, but it quickly shrugged off the spell as though the chains were nothing more than fine strands of spider silk.

  My Hurt Locker Spell Card hit first, rippling out in a wave of prismatic light, followed in short succession by Balloon Menagerie. Flames erupted behind us, bathing us in uncomfortable heat. A few of the lesser Drones shrieked and faltered, but the Sentinel powered through the curtain of fire, undeterred.

  If anything, it was moving faster than before.

  I spammed Frostfang Spire, filling the corridor behind us with multiple layers of icy spikes, hoping to buy us a little extra time. It worked. Sort of. The Sentinel ploughed into the barriers like a freight train, momentarily slowing, but not stopping. Still, the few seconds it spent smashing through bought us just enough time to pull ahead.

  I yanked several tools from my belt and sent them into a telekinetic orbit around me, “juggling” them in order to repeatedly proc Wild Surge, keeping my mana topped off as I cast Frostfang Spire over and over again.

  More icy barriers to keep the Sentinel from gaining on us. This time I also reinforced the spell, laying a thick slab of water over the top then flash-freezing it using Hydrokinesis. The newly formed wall cracked under the Sentinel’s bulk but didn’t shatter outright. I felt the pressure of its weight and fury vibrating through my mana link like I was holding the world’s angriest jackhammer.

  “Dan,” Harper called, breathless but still running strong. “It’s gaining on us.”

  “Yeah, I noticed,” I growled, summoning another round of Frostfang Spire just to keep the ugly bastard at bay. “Any ideas? Maybe something that involves not getting turned into roadkill?”

  “Murder it?” Temperance offered dryly.

  “Love the enthusiasm,” I wheezed. “Terrible plan.”

  I knew we needed more time. More distance. The ice barricades were working, but they weren’t enough. I had another trick up my sleeve—one I’d never used before—but now seemed like the appropriate time for a Hail Mary.

  With a slight effort of will, I summoned Rudolpho the Grippledip and swung up onto its back before giving it the command to run, but also to keep pace with the others. I couldn’t afford to leave them in the dust. Then I pulled both Collective Consciousness and Sleepwalker from Spatial Storage, swapping them into my core for Echoed Aura and Neural Slipstream.

  Sleepwalker was a conditional skill that automatically triggered whenever the user fell asleep or was rendered unconscious, allowing their physical body to enter a “semi-autonomous state”—instinctively dodging, parrying, attacking, or even activating Relic abilities, though with reduced precision and general effectiveness.

  It was basically autopilot mode.

  A solid skill on its own, but downright broken when paired with Collective Consciousness, which let me slip into a trance, merge my mind with my summoned minions, and go full-on mental puppet master. I’d be able to see what they saw, do what they did, and feel what they felt—though that last one was less more horrifying-design-flaw than feature. And, since I’d bumped Collective Consciousness up to level 10, I’d unlocked a nasty little secondary ability called Relic Relay, which let me channel spells from my Spatial Core directly through my minions, turning them into an extension of my own will.

  I summoned another ice barrier, then called forth a single Sunnysider Kevin and sent it shambling forward on a suicide mission toward the Sentinel. I didn’t expect him to kill the monster or even hurt it much. My only goal was to slow it down.

  The second the Sunnysider was in range, I activated Collective Consciousness and the world lurched and swayed.

  One second, I was sitting on the back of the Rudolpho, the next I found myself in the body of a hulking monstrosity, towering behind the ice barrier, my muscles straining with power and burning with barely constrained rage. I immediately wished I could rewind the last minute and make different choices, as an overwhelming sense of pain and emptiness settled over me.

  As I looked at my crude, malformed hands I had a dawning revelation that I was an abomination. A malformed thing that simply should not be. Death was supposed to be the end for a reason…

  The weight of mere existence hung around my neck like a millstone, threatening to pull me under a churning tide of emotions. Thankfully, the experience didn’t last long. I was so captivated by the inrush of jarring physical and psychological sensations, that I just stood there like a moron—staring at my own giant oven mitts. By the time I finally looked up, I was just in time to see the molten glow of a plasma cannon barrel…

  Right before a beam of liquid fire punched through my head.

  The Horror dropped, dead before he hit the ground, and I gasped and shuddered in a momentary blaze of agony as my consciousness zipped back into my own body.

  “What the fuck was that?” I gasped, drawing in a ragged breath as Rudolpho continued to race along the corridor.

  “You okay, Dan?” Croc asked, looping easily along beside me on all fours. The mimic had abandoned blue dog form, in favor for something that looked more like a cross between an elk and a dire-wolf—though still made from blue Croc material with stupid googly eyes in place.

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  “Nope, not even a little,” I said, shaking my head, “but that’s pretty much par for the course, at this point. Let’s try that again.”

  I summoned yet another icy blockade and summoned my next Sunnysider.

  I slipped inside the Horror’s head and skin much easier this time, and though the crushing weight of my own existence still hammered down on me, I pushed it to the back of my mind and focused all my attention on the encroaching Sentinel.

  Its plasma cannons glowed white hot again, but I activated the Relics back inside my human body and channeled them through the Horror, conjuring a floating ice shield. The plasma cannon roared again, but I yanked the barrel a hair off target with Psychic Sovereignty, and deflected the blast with the ice shield, which let off a gout of steam that momentarily obscured the hallway.

  The blast lit the corridor like a miniature sun, melting a section of the wall behind me.

  I cast Stainslayer Malestrom next, blue super bleach raining down on the Sentinel and its army of Drones.

  They howled and shrieked, which didn’t bother me in the least, and I thrust one mishappen hand forward, activating Hydro Fracking Blast—targeting the thickly corded neck of the Sentinel. Hoping to decapitate it in one fell swoop. The water chewed through vines but seemed woefully unable to penetrate the thick chitinous plating below.

  The Sentinel crashed into the ice barrier, attempting to bulldozed its way through, but I rushed forward and threw a punishing blow as I activated Whiteout Haymaker—the single active Relic the Sunnysider had at his disposal. My fist burned with artic white power and slammed into the Sentinel’s chest, knocking the creature back a step as a slick coat of frost spread across its plates.

  The bastard just snarled and kept right on coming.

  “Alright, dicknoodle,” I growled through the Sunnysider’s teeth, which felt disturbingly like my own, “you want some? Then come get some!”

  The Sentinel swung one of its massive claws down at me, but I slid to the side, barely avoiding the crushing blow. My whole body trembled with the impact as its claws smashed through the steel plating where I’d been standing. The Sentinel lunged again, and I reacted on pure instinct, forming another jagged forest of ice spikes directly beneath the lumbering monstrosity. They ripped through its feet and belly, but dealt less than a single percentage point of damage.

  Still, it was temporarily distracted, so I dropped low and shot forward again, driving a series of lightning fast blows into the creature’s chest and face, before activating Lawn Mower Wind Blade. A razor-sharp projectile of hardened air blasted from my chest and carved through more of the thick foliage, knocking off another fraction of its health.

  My rampaging assault was cut short as vines exploded from the floor beneath me, pulsing with sickly green light as they wrapped around my arms and legs, pinning me in place. I could feel the wicked barbs shredding my flesh, but that wasn’t the worst of it. It was the terrible pressure pulling at me. I tried to activate Psychic Sovereignty again, hoping to wrench the vines free, but the Sentinel was stronger—much stronger.

  “Oh shit,” I muttered, right before it tore my left arm clean off.

  The pain hit like a sledgehammer, radiating through my mind, and for a second I forgot that this wasn’t technically my body. It sure as shit felt like my body. Then the second arm went. And the legs. And, just for good measure, the Sentinel drove one of its fist through my chest and ripped the torso apart like a bag of rotten meat.

  I screamed then snapped back into my own body, every nerve in my system firing as if I’d just been hit by a lightning bolt. My stomach churned violently, and I barely leaned over Rudolpho’s side before I vomited onto the catwalk.

  “Dying sucks,” I gasped, wiping my mouth with the back of my sleeve. “A lot.”

  “Dan, what’s happening—” Harper began.

  “Don’t ask,” I croaked. “Just keep running, I’ll be fine.”

  I knew the words were a lie the second they left my mouth. My whole body was trembling, my vision swimming in and out of focus. And it wasn’t just physical pain—dying, even in a borrowed body, left a mental scar that gnawed at the edges of my mind.

  Still, my plan was working.

  I glanced back. The Sentinel was still coming, but slower now. The constant ice barriers and my Sunnysider distractions were chipping away at its momentum. Not enough, but more than nothing. We were finally gaining ground.

  “Again,” I muttered, already summoning another Sunnysider and stacking fresh layers of Frostfang Spire behind us. One more. Just one more. Maybe two. But definitely no more than three.

  I could die three more times, right?

  I slipped back into the next Sunnysider, pushing down the creeping dread that came with it, and prepared to meet the Sentinel head-on once again.

  And so it went, for the next ten minutes. Running manically forward, guided by Unerring Arrow, as I spammed Frostfange Spire and died on repeat, like a skipping record.

  …Seven times in total—though each death was slightly different than the one before it. Sometimes, the fleshy petal maws ripped out my throat. Other times the Drones got to me, tearing me apart an inch at a time. Once, the plasma cannon vaporized me at the waist, and I fought while my guts trailed across the floor like a gory slip’n’slide.

  But with each death, I gained us a little extra breathing room.

  By the time the countdown clock ticked below ten minutes, we finally burst free of the corridor and into a vast metal chamber that gleamed with clinical precision. The vines were gone. No more Blight tumors, no more spattered ooze or tangled flora. Just polished white walls, harsh overhead lights, and the low whir of machinery. It was like stumbling out of a jungle and straight into an airport terminal—assuming the airport came with plasma turrets and a kill-on-sight policy.

  And just when I thought we’d escaped one nightmare, another stood waiting to tag in.

  Ahead of us, guarding a massive access door, was a full squad of VRD Security Golems, just like the one we’d fought back in the breakroom—though these were all level 60. There were five in total, their armored chassis gleaming, each one was bristling with a full armory worth of weapons. Arm-mounted energy blades, shoulder turrets, cannons, and enough red glowing eyes to power a rave.

  The lead Golem’s head swiveled in our direction, its targeting sensors locking onto us with cold precision.

  “UNAUTHORIZED PRESENCE DETECTED,” it announced, its voice flat and robotic. “PLEASE STAND BY FOR LIQUIDATION.”

  “Oh, come on!” I shouted, slipping off Rudolpho’s back, preparing to fight even knowing we couldn’t win. Not with five VRD Golems at our front and a Drekhnaar Sentinel closing in on our rear. I also wasn’t in great shape. Though the legion of deaths hadn’t actually happened to me, my entire nervous system felt like someone had used it to jumpstart a tractor. “Give us a fucking break! Is that really too much to ask for?”

  Harper prepared to fire off her spells while Temperance raised her blade in anticipation. Jakob primed Quantum Entanglement. Croc growled as the mimic pushed itself onto two feet, a prehistoric nightmare Grizzly ready to throw down.

  It couldn’t end like this. Not here on the 75th floor, before we’d even had a chance to take on the Franchisor. Under other circumstances, I would’ve activated a Doorway Anchor and retreated—live to fight another day and all that—but spatial magics didn’t work here.

  But there had to be something we could do. My mind raced through options, and all of them were shitty. There was one thing, though. A long shot that probably wouldn’t work—but the other option was a quick death if we were lucky, and a long, agonizingly slow one if we weren’t.

  With shaking hands, I reached into my Spatial Storage and pulled out a trinket I’d earned as a Loot Token Reward. It was a golden medallion, suspended from a gaudy golden chain, etched with a giant thumbs-up. On the back were the words, “Researcher Approved!”

  “Please work,” I grumbled, holding it out in offering like it was a holy relic. “Please, for the love of every god, eldritch and otherwise, just fucking work…”

  The lead Golem froze mid-step. Its sensor array scanned the medallion, red light flickering over the polished surface.

  “IDENTITY TOKEN CONFIRMED,” it said after a long pause. “RESEARCHER CLASS: TIER ONE. ACCESS GRANTED.”

  The red lights flicked to blue and, one by one, the other Golems followed suit.

  “Welcome,” the lead Golem said, stepping aside. “Your credentials have been approved. Please proceed.”

  The massive access doors behind opened, hydraulics groaning as the metal slabs split with all the urgency of a bureaucratic yawn.

  Not a moment too soon.

  Because, as if right on cue, the Sentinel barreled into the chamber behind us. Its claws tore gouges into the floor, and its plasma cannons whined with murderous intent.

  We didn’t wait.

  We sprinted through the doorway like our lives depended on it—because they absolutely did—and just as the last of us cleared the threshold, the Golems opened fire of the encroaching monsters.

  Twin streams of plasma lit up the room like a miniature supernova. The Sentinel howled in fury as it crashed into the killzone, and then—

  Whump.

  The doors slid shut behind us.

  And just like that, the noise was gone. Silence fell, sharp and sudden.

  I collapsed to my knees, gasping, soaked in sweat, my body still trembling from phantom death spasms.

  “Remind me,” I croaked, “to send the Researcher a nice fruit basket the next time we bump into him.”

  Croc panted beside me, tail wagging weakly. “Oh my god, Dan, I thought we were going to die!”

  “We were going to die,” Temperance said grimly, cleaning her blade with steady hands. “And we still might. But at least now we’ll die in a new room.”

  “Well,” Jakob added helpfully, “progress is progress.”

  I didn’t have the strength to argue.