Chapter 39

One chapter! That's all I have left to draft. One more!

Assuming I don't add any more, anyway. I had to add a couple this week since the ending felt too compressed -- I'm weaving a number of plot threads back together rather rapidly. But I'm really trying not to from this point forward. This manuscript is already at 216K words. I'd rather not go past 220-230K after editing.

So, we're looking good to possibly increase posting to two chapters starting Monday now that I'm shifting back to editing full-time.

Which is great, because we're also starting to reach chapters that are less polished. I had to finesse today's entry more than normal.

If you want to help me out, keep an eye peeled for continuity issues going forward. Grammar and spelling stuff is useful too -- but continuity is a much bigger deal. For example, I mentioned in earlier chapters that Cady had clones, so Riley would be aware of that fact in this chapter. However, she might not have specifics on the Hive and exactly how Jason "freed" the clones back in Timeless.

Anyway, I'll leave you all to it and get my butt back to work!

Chapter 39 - Fault Lines

Pax - Earth Quarter

Jason

Jason wasn’t feeling like a boss at the moment.

Not as he stumbled through the depths of the Earth district, approaching a blocky, nondescript stone structure on the outskirts. He stuck to the shadows and back alleys, Riley and Jerry just a step behind. Avoiding prying eyes and trigger-happy travelers. After all, the players were still hunting them.

Pain and weariness were etched into the lines of Jerry and Riley’s faces, their expressions tight with fatigue. Blood splattered their skin and streaked down their arms. Riley’s hands trembled slightly, her knuckles white as she gripped her daggers. Jerry’s usual smirk was gone, replaced by a grim set to his jaw as he held his hat in his hands like a wounded baby bird. Probably because it was now missing the “flop.” A stray fireball had burned it off.

They’d barely survived the onslaught. It had taken every trick and skill at their disposal—every mana gem Jason had tucked away inside this flimsy form—just to survive. And it hadn’t come without a price. Their levity in Jerry’s basement was gone.

And so was Frank. He was dead.

Jerry and Riley hadn’t taken it well.

Maybe, under other circumstances, the loss would have unsettled Jason – watching his best friend get torn apart by a horde of travelers. Yet he’d already compartmentalized, his attention stretched thin. The other-him toiling away in the dungeon could carry that guilt. This self had to keep moving forward. There was too much riding on his success to hesitate now.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Jason reassured Riley as he noticed her sour expression. “Frank will bounce back. It’s only a day lockout.”

Just a game. One without real stakes—at least, for him, Jason rationalized.

Riley and Jerry exchanged glances, their expressions skeptical.

“And his PVP tag? What about that?” Riley asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes tracking every rooftop. Although Jason was pretty sure they were safe for now. Frank’s sacrifice had bought them both time and, more importantly, bodies. Once he’d had a few corpses to work with, he’d been able to create decoys. Judging from his map, they were currently leading the players on a ‘wild-boss chase’ throughout Pax.

Jason shrugged. “It doesn’t matter where he respawns. Frank is best suited to making it back to Pax. Worst case, he can fly or use his Were-Ant Form to tunnel underground.”

“You know, there was a time when you wouldn’t have been so cavalier about this,” Riley said, her voice low and serious. “Jerry could have been the one who died. What then?”

“Your consideration of my welfare is noted, but I’m more capable than I look,” the undead rogue retorted, waggling his eyebrows. “The real tragedy is my poor hat. Is there any chance you can resurrect it?” Jerry asked Jason, holding the fabric tenderly.

Jason’s Perception skill was telling him the answer was a resounding no.

“We can get you another, Jerry. The Cadys will likely have a spare.”

Probably taken off his corpse from another timeline, but Jason wisely decided to leave that part out. The innkeeper’s eyes lit up, but Riley’s just narrowed.

“If only we were all as replaceable,” she murmured.

Jason grunted as he popped open another mana potion. What else could he say? The situation wasn’t ideal, but that was just the price of survival. His leg slowly stitched itself back together with a pop of bone, and then they set off again.

A compound soon loomed before them, squat and utilitarian, eerily nondescript compared to the spiraling towers and cascading waterfalls that had once adorned Cady’s Pretty Princess Castle. Riley assured him this was Cady’s new “control room.” The exterior was pure function over form, a bunker layered in defenses so dense even Finn would have approved. Although, knowing Cady, she’d likely just “borrowed” his design.

“This is it,” Riley murmured, pressing her palm to a panel near the doorway while Jerry and Jason warily watched the barren street behind them. Mana flared, dark black and blood-red. Then the locks and tumblers released, the massive door to that vault opened with the soft rumbling grind of stone, and their group stumbled through another shimmering emerald threshold. The door soon slid shut behind them with the heavy thunk of finality.

They’d made it. They were finally safe.

His Awareness kicked into overdrive as he turned and took in their surroundings, his eyes widening in surprise. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find inside the bunker. However, it definitely wasn’t this place. They stood inside a simple white room with a single door on either end. One that was uncomfortably familiar. He’d assumed that shimmering green barrier had been a regular instance boundary, but that he was starting to think he’d been wrong.

There was only one way to find out.

With a sigh, he opened the interior door.

Noise rushed in. The stomp of boots on metal. Voices echoing off concrete. The interior of the bunker was impossibly large. It resembled a missile silo, metal catwalks ringing a vertical shaft that stretched up and down without end. Each level was dotted with neatly numbered, nondescript white doors–all of them leading somewhere... or somewhen.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath.

Either this was an uncanny copy, or they’d just tumbled down a real rabbit hole.

The notice only confirmed what Jason already suspected.

System Message

You have entered an unidentified pocket dimension.

Access is limited to a group of restricted users.

Extreme time dilation is in effect.

The implications of that notification sent a chill down Jason’s spine.

Even the system recognized that this place shouldn’t exist. As Jason turned and looked at that massive bunker door behind him, his Awareness highlighted the edges where the textures stretched, twisting and tearing. As though two different timelines had been stitched together.

“Cady connected that bunker to the Hive?” he murmured.

He hadn’t even known that was possible.

“Not exactly,” a familiar voice spoke up. “Cady-Prime would never have approved that decision. She can be… somewhat paranoid.”

Jason turned to find Cady approaching—not the real her, of course. However, the resemblance was uncanny. This Cady was one Jason knew well. A jagged battle scar etched across her face, running from just above her temple down to her jawline, cutting through the once-smooth features he remembered. Her skin was a pale white, proof that she was no longer technically still alive—her death freeing her from Cady’s contract. However, it wasn’t just her appearance. Her presence was different from the original. Gone was the impatient frustration and condescension. Centuries stuck inside this time prison had worn down her edges, tempering her into something harder, stronger, and more flexible.

“Good to see you again, Captain Cady,” Jason said.

“Jason,” she replied with a nod. He was surprised she recognized him in this body, but then again, she was still Cady. As sharp as ever.

“Oh, and this is uh—” Jason began, turning to his companions, only to hesitate.

Jerry and Riley were staring in fascinated horror. Because there were many, many, many, more Cadys walking those ramparts. Too many, arguably. They slowed and stared at the newcomers to the Hive. Jason had explained this place to Riley, but seeing it was still a shock.

“What sweet hell is this? Why are there so many of them?” Riley muttered under her breath.

“We call this place the Hive,” Captain Cady replied dryly. “And trust me, the true torture is living with yourself for a few millennia. Although things have changed since Jason’s last visit.”

Indeed, the other Cadys were excited to see the necromancer again, murmuring among themselves, the Hive abuzz as word of their visit spread up and down that endless shaft.  Unlike Captain Cady, many of the others had hidden their pale skin, blue lips, and milky white eyes behind layers of illusion magic. However, Jason knew the truth; he could still remember slicing through their throats one by one… only to raise them again.

“As expected of our Dark Lord and Savior,” Jerry quipped, a lanky arm circling Jason’s shoulders. “He’s always the death of the party.”

Riley looked less enthused. “What did you do to them?” she asked, her gaze piercing.

Ahh, right... about that.  “I, uh, well—” he hedged.

“He killed us all,” Captain Cady answered simply, earning a glare from Jason.

Jerry just seemed delighted, his eyes shining and his poor, singed hat forgotten. Riley... didn’t take the news as well.

“You did what?” she demanded.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he began. “I actually freed them–”

“—from our mortal coil,” Captain Cady agreed with a nod and a grin.

She knew exactly what she was doing. Never mind, even this version of her was insufferable.

“Creating your own harem, hmm?” Jerry offered, nudging him with an elbow. “Clever.”

Wow. Riley’s face screamed murder now. “Hey, no, that’s not what happened,” Jason insisted quickly. “I freed them from their slave contract with the real Cady. I gave them a choice. That’s it. They’re just fucking with me – because they’re all still Cady... sort of.”

A small smile curled Captain Cady’s pale lips. “Indeed.”

Riley crossed her arms, not entirely convinced, but Jason’s chances of getting brutally murdered had dropped slightly. “So, what is this place?” Riley asked, peering up and down the shaft. There was no end. Jason had tested.

“This is the Hive,” Captain Cady explained, gesturing for them to follow as she led them through the facility. “An inflection point in time and space, which we’ve connected to that building in Pax. A Carousel of our own, I guess you could say. We needed an easier way to access the primary timeline while the Prime is locked out of the game. This is a compromise that the Hall Monitors appear to tolerate.”

As Captain Cady noticed Riley’s and Jerry’s blank stares, she shot Jason a look as if to say, “did you really not explain this?” He just shrugged. Time travel was complicated.

She let out a sigh before continuing, “All of us are copies of Cady. Different versions of her plucked from various points within the primary timeline... or other timelines that have collapsed,” she amended as she led them through the Hive, waving at different versions of herself. One wielding a massive claymore. Another missing an arm. All of them silently judging.

“We’ve had to learn to live together; to work together,” Captain Cady continued, her voice steady but tinged with weariness. “It wasn’t easy at first. Imagine living with a thousand versions of yourself, each with their own opinions, their own grudges, their own scars. While we were under contract to the Prime, we had to keep the peace. Yet then, suddenly, we were free. Free to make our own choices… but also free to disagree.”

Okay, she was definitely staring at Jason again—a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Riley. Maybe there was a reason the real Cady had been so testy before she’d locked herself out of the game. He hadn’t really considered the long-term effect of freeing the clones…

Captain Cady let out a soft growl. “It was bad enough when the Prime was still around to keep us in line; we’d achieved a precarious peace. But since she disappeared, it’s been... chaotic.”

A voice suddenly echoed through the silo, amplified by the cavernous space. “Attention! The next drawing will begin shortly on level 34,982. Please make your way to room 61B if you would like to participate.”

The announcement sent a ripple of excitement through the Hive. Cadys began moving with purpose, heading toward a specific doorway high above.

“What’s happening now?” Jerry asked, unable to hide his fascination. He kept poking the Cadys that walked past, presumably to test whether they were real. “Some sort of meeting?”

Riley looked at Jason, and he just shrugged. This was new to him, too.

Captain Cady sighed, gesturing for them to follow.

“It would be easier to show you,” she replied.

She guided them to another doorway, one where most of the Cadys were converging. It seemed impossible that so many could fit inside one of those tiny rooms, yet that mystery was soon solved as they peeked inside. The room on the other side was vast. An endless, stark, sterile white that coated both the walls and the floor and stretched on toward infinity.

Hundreds—no, thousands—of Cadys were seated in orderly rows inside, their expressions a mix of anticipation and resignation. Almost like they were waiting in some sort of interdimensional DMV. Except this one was infinite. Those rows of chairs stretched aaaallll the way back. And at the very front of the room, one Cady was spinning a massive metal cylinder, its surface etched with intricate runes. Another Cady stood nearby, holding a microphone crafted from air mana crystals, her voice booming across the chamber.

“Please collect your numbers at the door, the drawing will commence shortly,” she declared, her tone oddly cheerful for a Cady.

As the others piled in, each one grabbed a small slip of paper from a dispenser near the door. The slips glowed faintly. Jason’s Perception skill picked out a number on one. 892,249,241.

Good gods. Just how many Cadys were there?

“What is this? What’s happening in there?” Riley asked, her brow furrowed.

“Another drawing,” Captain Cady muttered. “Only one of us can enter the main timeline without creating a continuity error. And with the Prime gone, well...” She let the obvious implication hang in the air, her expression unreadable.

“Fascinating,” Jerry murmured, his pale eyes aglow. “So, the Cadys are essentially competing for a chance to live again? But, for how long?” he asked.

Cady breathed out a frustrated sigh. “They each get five minutes.”

“That’s it?” Riley asked, horror filling her voice. “This... this is...”

A horrible existential nightmare? Jason thought, but kept his mouth firmly shut.

He had other questions. Like what exactly could the Cadys do with just five minutes? That didn’t seem like enough time to accomplish anything, even with their manipulation of time. However, that turned out to be something of a moot point.

“We have a winner!” The announcer’s voice cut through the din as the Cady beside her plucked a slip from that metal cylinder, its mana shields snapping back into place.

The crowd went suddenly silent. There was a long, tense pause and then—

“Number 328,239,123, you get five minutes in the real world!”

Yet not a single soul moved. Not even a twitch of a finger.

“Hmm, what’s happening? Is something wrong?” Jerry asked in confusion.

“Not exactly—” Captain Cady began slowly.

“Oh, to hell with this bullshit,” one of the Cadys finally spat, heaving out of her chair and making her way toward the door. “I’m done playing this stupid, pointless game—”

She never got to finish that sentence. Probably because of the blade that erupted from the soft flesh of her neck, crimson blooming around the cut. Her eyes went wide, only a few feet from the group, her chest struggling for breath—an instinct. Undead technically didn’t need to breathe. Then she collapsed to her knees, a single slip fluttering through the air.

The Cady behind her withdrew her blade with a wet schlick and snatched that slip with nimble fingers, the paper glowing a soft green. “Clever pretending you didn’t win, but not nearly clever enough,” she observed, eyeing her fallen self. “It looks like I’m the winner now—”

And she was… for about two seconds.

Until she was shot in the head.

That appeared to be the signal. Because the “drawing” quickly devolved into a bloodbath as the Cadys started stabbing, slicing, shooting, burning, poisoning, and generally murdering their way to “victory.” Meanwhile, that precious paper floated in the air above the crowd, just out of reach, and the announcer and that metal vessel were suddenly sealed behind an extra-thick panel of earth mana to protect them from the crowd.

Which implied that, well, this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

“What the fuck is going on?” Riley murmured as she watched the carnage.

“I love this place,” Jerry added, smiling broadly. Then he hesitated. “Wait, I get it!” He whirled toward Captain Cady. “The ‘drawing’ refers to weapons, yes?”

Her long-suffering sigh was as good as an admission.

Jason shook his head. He side-eyed Captain Cady as she looked on with a neutral expression, unfazed by the deaths of those many, many versions of herself. “So, uh, I take it you came up with this idea? A way to keep the peace?”

She sniffed. “It was safer than letting them outside, and it helps with the population problem. There are too many of us.”

Her gaze shifted back to Jason, her eyes dead serious, literally. They were rather milky. “Freedom isn’t always a good thing. Without the Prime’s control, the Hive turned into a lawless hellhole. More than a few of us decided that everyone returning to the real timeline and triggering the Hall Monitors might be a good thing. A way to finally end the torture.”

“The torture of living with yourself?” Riley muttered, shaking her head

“Exactly,” Captain Cady replied without hesitation. “We all have our demons. Some of us just have more than others.”

Then she slowly slid the door closed on the genocide happening inside.

Her gaze shifted back to the group before landing on Jason. He could see it now; could finally place his finger on what had been bothering him. Captain Cady looked... older. That weariness was unmistakable. Her expression mirrored something in himself.

The loss of something important. Hope, maybe?

“How much time has passed since I was last here?” he asked carefully, already dreading the answer. “For, uh, you, I mean.”

She stared back for a long moment, the occasional thump and scream from the room behind her echoing through the nearly empty Hive. “1,327 years, give or take,” she replied finally.

Fuck. Jason knew time worked differently here, but that was... a lot.

I’m sorry—that’s what he wanted to say.

The words lingered on his lips, except… was he?

He saw realization reflected in Captain Cady’s eyes. Not anger. Not fear. Not resentment. Although, those emotions would have been easier. They would have felt more normal, more like the real Cady. Instead, he saw something worse reflected there. Resignation. A will ground down by millennia of madness. A prediction of what would happen if he failed. What would happen to the Fates, to Rachael, to all those other gods… what may have already happened to them.

Jason swallowed hard, pushing that guilt down and away just like the rest. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest, like it was suddenly easier to breathe.

Captain Cady crossed her arms, her eyes locked on his. “Let’s cut to the chase. We both know you didn’t come to visit or to reminisce. You’re here because you need something.”

Jason grimaced. She wasn’t wrong—Cady rarely was. And now Riley and Jerry were watching him curiously. He’d never gotten to finish his story, after all.

“You’re right. My plan worked,” Jason admitted. “And now I need your help.”

His eyes flicked to that doorway. “All of your help.”