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Dungeon Crawler Carl Book 8, a Parade of Horribles chapters 96, 97, 98, and Epilogue.
🕑 Added 2026-02-08 02:01:01 +0000 UTCThis is it.
Chapter 96
Carl: Now!
Emberus, crying, sobbing, enraged, growing, reared back with a flaming ball in his hand.
Donut zapped into the room, using one of Lucia’s infamous loop-de-loop traps, replacing Penny, who was suddenly teleported outside, right at the feet of Taranis.
Penny was, also, now in the same area as Khepri, whose god effect was the reason why I’d chosen that god to appear in the first place. She was invulnerable for 90 seconds.
Donut had her Scorpion’s Bite weapon mount with the crossbow on her back, cocked and ready to go.
Loaded into the weapon was Katia’s Bolt of Ophiotaurus. Donut aimed, and she fired true. The bolt buried itself directly into the smoldering eye socket of Emberus. A second bolt shot, entering the second eye. This was one of her ten Danforth bolts, designed to hold the god in place.
The yellow invulnerability glow winked off. The god was now vulnerable for 15 seconds. And he couldn’t move.
At the same moment, Emberus hurled some sort of fire incineration spell directly at my chest that would, under any other circumstances, kill me instantly.
Your Four-Leaf Clover Patch has activated! Your party member Penny has received the attack!
Outraged, now clawing at his face, Emberus continued to glow, and the heat of the room became unbearable.
“Toodles,” Donut said as she jumped to my shoulder and activated Puddle Jumper.
At level 17, the spell had the ability to return her to any place she’d recently visited at almost any distance. In this case, she took us outside, to the entrance of the arena, where a scene of absolute chaos greeted me.
The food truck was spinning in circles, flames pouring from the side window near the deep fryer, missiles launching one after another at the Krakaren boss as sluggalos crawled over the thing.
The Krakaren boss was now in the stands, smashed amongst the unmoving horribles avatars, health in the red as two tentacles waved. It appeared she only had two tentacles left, the rest ripped off by Taranis and scattered across the arena.
Taranis, outraged, was now bent over the tiny bubbling pile of plasma that was Penelope the pig.
Penny wasn’t dead, but she would be if she didn’t heal within the next 90 seconds.
Khepri the god also stood off to the side, looking about, confused as fuck.
Scolopendra, the largest thing in the arena by far, remained on the ground, wrapped around the shattered tree, chittering, also confused, and angry, glowing, spinning up another attack.
And all around, multiple vehicles and mounts zoomed through the arena, mowing down monsters left and right. It was like a goddamned demolition derby. They’d allowed us to have our 10th floor vehicles which were all upgraded to the max, and we were using that to the best of our ability. Imani and Elle’s APV, driven by Bodi, cut through a group of trolls. With poor Sweety dead, Jurgen and Prepotente had moved to the RV with Makana. Prepotente and Jurgen stood back to back on the roof of the RV, screaming, shooting lightning and throwing potions at the mobs while Bianca circled overhead.
Jamal jumped through the arena, flamethrower roaring, landing upon monsters and snapping them in half. His Tundra that he’d been driving sat in a heaping, smoking wreck where it had crashed into the wall. Samantha was with Jamal, sitting directly on his head, also screaming a war cry.
Lucia and Florin were back on their Tuk-Tuk, Florin driving with one hand as his shotgun roared in the other. Lucia was in her beautiful form, shooting lightning bolts at the monsters left and right.
The monsters themselves hadn’t a chance. Despite there being literally thousands of them, they ran, they fell, and they died. Tipid was behind the wheel of the former One Fine Pig truck. The flowers had all fallen off, revealing the wrap featuring the two tigrans kissing the butt of Penelope. Racing next to him was Rosetta on the back of Onikuma the bear. The bear jumped, landing upon a scattering group of razorbacked monkey mobs. Old Shuck was also in the fray, biting and snarling.
Mongo and Rend were right next to where we’d teleported, tearing through some spiked turtle monster. Rend was sitting on the upside-down beast’s head as Mongo viciously pulled its leg out from the shell.
Blood and hundreds of horribles masks littered the ground.
I took all this in, all at once.
Emberus burst from the center of the kaiju bug, rising and rising, changing from the human form to the massive, half-faced monstrosity that could melt worlds, turning, spinning, screaming, fire flowing down the sides of his head as he wailed, “Carl, Carl, Carl!”
He was still vulnerable, but only for a few more seconds.
System Message: Scolopendra is preparing attack number three of nine. Time until the next attack: 30 seconds.
I would be invulnerable, but everyone else was not.
“Oh shit!”
Taranis, seeing his little brother rising in the arena, knowing he was the one who had fired the attack at his beloved pig, raised his hand.
Emberus paused, a moment of lucidity coming over the insane deity.
“Brother, no,” he said.
Taranis twisted his wrist.
I grasped Donut, and I held her tight in my arms.
Zap.
With one second left on his invulnerability, Emberus, god of sun and ash, exploded.
It was like I’d been hit by a car. All of us were knocked off our feet.
All the vehicles and mounts and surviving mobs blew back, flying to the edges of the arena. I took damage, but because of my temporary invulnerability, I wasn’t hurt. Donut cried out in pain.
A deity has fallen. The heavens tremble with rage.
Above, Krakaren was in the stands, still alive. Scolopendra was still alive despite the massive hole in the center of the creature. The centipede had a health bar now, but it was still in the green.
Imani: Check in! Everybody check in! Elle! Elle!
Carl: Everyone get back into the RV!
Prepotente: I fear the RV is broken in half and no longer counts as a shelter. We do not have an accommodation large enough to house us all!
Across from us, Mongo stood, shaking his head. Rend, too, stood. Gonk had hidden behind Simoom, and they remained on their feet.
Jamal was smashed against the far wall, his legs absolutely wrecked and fallen off of him. But he was alive. The tigran APV was on its side. Rosetta was off her bear, trying to get to Tipid inside the APV. Right next to them, the old RV was broken in half.
Lucia floated on the far end of the arena, holding Florin, who was alive but had a red health bar. Their tuk-tuk was smashed and smoldering.
Khepri was blown off his feet, having fallen like a building collapse.
The food truck, miraculously, was still upright, still on fire, still spinning, though most of the sluggalos who’d been on the outside were now gone. The missile launcher was wrecked.
The Abrams tank, too, remained unharmed. The main gun creaked, turning toward Krakaren in the stands as hexcrafter Sarah Hayse stood out the top, casting a spell, causing the gun to glow black. The gun belched fire directly into Krakaren. Her health barely budged, but the boss didn’t respond, either.
The gun started to glow again.
Most everything else in the arena was dead or dying.
Elle: I’m alive. Barely. Someone help dig me and Bodi out of this truck. It’s wrecked pretty good. I haven’t been folded like this since Brandon showed us how to use Tinder.
Taranis was back to his knees, and he had Penny scooped in his hands. He cast something on the pig, and she glowed, instantly reforming. He reached down and touched the side of her face. She squealed.
“What did you say my love?”
She squealed again, louder.
“You... you want splooge? Well, I, uh. I was hoping to take you to dinner first.”
I checked my inventory, and the final items I needed were there. I pulled my motorcycle from my inventory and jumped on it, Donut moved to my shoulder.
“Get off!” I yelled to Donut. I had sixty seconds left on my invulnerability. She had nothing.
“Go fuck yourself, Carl,” Donut said.
I didn’t argue, and I revved the engine.
And that’s when everything froze.
System Message. Eris has entered the Realm.
Chapter 97
You are in the presence of another Deity. The Scavenger’s Daughter has opened her eyes. She fills with power.
Random Effect! As Eris is the goddess of chaos, this effect will change each time you are in her presence.
Temporary effect from Eris:
Your inventory will swap with the crawler closest to you.
There was a blip, and we unfroze. I didn’t see Eris, and I didn’t know where she was. The tiny blip had caused my motorcycle to wobble, and I had to concentrate to keep from eating it. We didn’t have time to deal with her. Ahead, the stadium-sized head of Scolopendra loomed, mandibles thrashing, slicing through the remains of the wood that was shattered all about. The next attack was imminent, and it would hit 40% of us.
This had to work. It had to. If not, it was the end of the road.
I moved to my inventory and....
“What the fuck?”
Hats. It was all fucking hats. Thousands of them, not organized in any way.
“Carl! Carl! I have your inventory! Why isn’t it ordered? Why do you have some much crap in here! Rocks, Carl! Why do you have rocks! Why do you have the Chicken and Goblin recipes book in your hotlist!”
Imani: Something just happened to my inventory! I suddenly have thousands of little candies, and my scrolls are gone!
Elle: That’s mine! We switched!
Taranis’s huge voice roared. “Little sister! Where are you? Now is not the time!”
A laughing voice echoed. It seemed to come from everywhere at once. Eris. “Ever since you started fucking mom I knew you’d lost it. How do you think she is going to feel about you killing our brother because he was tricked into hurting your sidepiece?”
“My wife is missing! And even if she wasn’t she cares not about my mortal dalliances!”
“You mean our Mom? You think mom is missing? Four of her five pieces are in here right now, watching you try to literally fuck a pig! And I’m pretty sure she’ll care about this one. Remember what she did to Yarilo?”
“We are in love! Wait, what do you mean about my wife?”
Eris cackled with insane laughter. “If you stopped thinking with your mom-soaked dick for one second, you’d see what’s happening.”
Florin: Holy Christ. I switched inventories with Lucia. Nothing is organized except the hotlist!
“Donut, be careful!” I yelled as we approached the centipede. “There are lots of bombs in there. Don’t pull anything out unless I tell you to! Go to my hotlist. I need you to combine the ball in slot 10 with the biscuit in slot 12!”
10 seconds until the next Scolopendra attack.
The whole front of the creature started to glow.
“My hotlist only has 10 slots!” she shrieked. “There is no 12!”
“Search! Search and combine! Search and combine! Fast! Give it to me!”
I held out my hand. My xistera formed. Thankfully that still worked. “Hurry! Hurry!”
“I found it!” Donut cried, and she dropped the ball into the extended scoop.
Scolopendra’s mouth yawned, preparing the third attack...
“Hold on!” I yanked hard, putting the bike down, launching us into the air, and I flung the ball with all of my strength at the final dungeon boss.
The banger sphere with the “Nothing Special” enriched pet biscuit rocketed right into the mouth of the boss.
Splatch!
Scolopendra, the biggest, baddest, strongest entity in the dungeon splattered onto the ground of the arena right in front of us, turning into a gelatinous puddle the size of a small elephant.
We tumbled and spun through the air, crashing right next to the quivering pile of goo. I rolled and skid, my motorcycle spinning off in the other direction, Donut yowling. We spun to a stop.
New Achievement. What the actual fuck, Carl?
Okay, so there are power moves. And then there’s this.
I repeat.
What
The
Actual
Fuck,
Carl?
Not gonna lie. I’m super impressed, even if I’m pissed about you stealing my thunder. I haven’t even made my big announcement yet.
Reward: ... Yeah, I got nothing for this.
I groaned, trying to sit up.
“Uh, Carl,” Donut said.
But before she finished, the world froze once again.
Eris, her voice howling with laughter, cracked into existence, standing directly over me, her body huge, nothing like the form I was used to. Her serpentine face was the same, but her body was that of a saccathian mixed with the Krakaren boss still in the stands. But instead of tentacles, her lower mass was nothing but the tails of snakes. Thousands of them, like a reverse Medusa, many with rattles on them. The snake tails, huge, formed all around us. We plunged into darkness. The tails parted to show Eris’s massive, smiling face looking down at me.
Uzi Jesus was here, on the ground next to me, still tiny, looking up, his mouth making an O shape, like he didn’t know she could appear in this form.
“Hello again, Carl,” Eris said.
Uzi Jesus looked around. He paused at the sight of the Scolopendra heap of goo. “Whoa. Do you see that thing?” He pulled his toy gun and fired it at the pile. It made a pop-pop-pop noise. “There’s a lot of people’s auras inside that thing.”
“Eris,” Taranis called, his voice echoing. “Unfreeze me now!”
Eris ignored him. “Our mom is going to be so pissed when she fully comes back from the dead.” She twisted and looked around, spying something I couldn’t see and chuckled. “He’s all powerful, way stronger than me, but he doesn’t yet understand how he’s being played. Do you really think someone that strong could be so enraptured by a pig?” She sighed. “The AI is grasping, doing what it can to stop us. It’s like throwing banana peels on the road in front of a raging bull. That’s what that pig is. Every once in a while, it works. But now the Ascendency is about to start, there’s not much more it can do.”
I pulled myself to a sitting position and looked around, coughing.
“You keep surprising me,” Eris said, suddenly serious. “But now the stakes are real. If we let those guys downstairs win the Ascendency, it’s lights out. No more fun.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.
She laughed, waving her hand dismissively. Uzi Jesus wandered over to the frozen Donut and poked at her with his toy gun. I reached to snatch him up.
“I wouldn’t,” she snapped, but Jesus backed away. “Anyway, I’ve come to tell you that I just came to a realization. I am the goddess of chaos.” She thumbed over her shoulder. “Just like my pig-fucking brother is the god of thunder and lightning. He has his worshippers. But you know who doesn’t worship him? Lightning itself. Thunder itself.” She patted her shoulder, and Jesus started crawling up one of the snake tails like he was a cat, grunting until one grasped him and pulled him all the way to her shoulder. “I don’t need you to worship me. You are chaos incarnate. Goodbye, Carl. Oh, by the way? Do you know how doors work? Every exit is an entrance. And don’t forget about the coin. We have until the end of the 12th to figure out how the fifth side lands.”
She disappeared in a puff of smoke, and the world unfroze.
Eris has left the realm. Your inventory has been restored. Uh, so, you’ll have to redo your inventory organization though. Sorry about that.
The moment she disappeared, Taranis appeared standing over me. He had Penelope in his left hand.
“Carl,” he rumbled, voice angry.
Oh shit.
A massive tentacle swiped down from the stands, and without even looking, Taranis caught it in his right hand.
“I can’t let you die,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me, Penelope, or Krakaren.
He gently put Penny down next to me and Donut. The pig looked at me and snuffled twice.
Penny: HE LIED ABOUT THE SPLOOGE, SO WE BROKE UP. I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS MARRIED.
“You!” Taranis roared, pointing with his free, left hand at something. He still held the Krakaren tentacle in the right. “Go home.”
He was talking to Khepri, who pointed at me and Donut and chittered angrily.
“I don’t care. I have business. Kill them later. Begone!”
Khepri has left the realm.
He returned his attention to me. The massive god crackled with electricity. I could feel it, causing all the hair on my arms to raise. My invulnerability from Khepri had run out over a minute ago.
“I do not know what my sister meant about there being four pieces of my mother, but I am taking two of them. I am sparing your lives because my Penelope spoke on your behalf. We are not done.”
Samantha: OKAY, CARL. I WILL SEE YOU GUYS LATER. LOOK ME UP WHEN YOU GET TO THE ASCENDENCY. DON’T MESS UP SAM TOWN. I USED SOME OF THE STUFF FROM THAT HOUSE OF THE SNAKE GUY YOU KILLED TO DECORATE.
Carl: Wait, what are you doing?
Samantha was suddenly hovering by Taranis’s head, whispering in his ear.
The giant god turned to look at her, surprised. He snatched her out of the air with his free hand, and then he cracked and disappeared, taking both Samantha and Krakaren with him.
Taranis has left the realm.
Krakaren has left the realm.
And just like that, it was over.
Chapter 98
The gods were gone. The monsters were dead.
The horribles in the stands remained, watching. Then, as one, they all stood, still silent, still watching. Fog rose, and in moments, they, too, were gone.
The Scavenger’s Daughter has closed her eyes. The benefit fades, and she weeps.
W-W-W-Winner!
Well, sort of. Neither of the bosses are dead. That’s a little disappointing.
But you won. Congrats. This is a little iffy considering what just happened, but I’m gonna call it because I can. You are now free to exit the dungeon.
The door on the 18th floor is now open. Good luck getting there.
By the way. Don’t forget the warning. You know, that big, red, flashing warning from before? Just because Scolopendra is “defeated,” it doesn’t mean you’re safe from the remaining attacks. Killing her, even in this state, will institute the final attacks. Abandoning her on this or any floor now counts as killing her.
Yeah. Good luck.
Time until level collapse: 30 minutes.
System message: From now on, all level collapse timers post the 11th floor are hereafter suspended until a winner is declared in the Ascendency Battles. When this happens, dungeon closure procedures will commence.
Every exit is an entrance. A terrible, ominous feeling washed over me.
Imani: Prepotente is injured! So is Jurgen!
Rosetta: Tipid, too, is terribly injured. He has lost both of his legs in the crash.
Prepotente: I will recover. Tend to Jurgen. I was electrocuted, but I am now fine. The deity stole my memorial crystal! The thief pulled it right off my neck! I have filed a formal complaint with the Epicure!
Jurgen: I am okay. Just a little fried. You’re lucky that god didn’t pull your head off.
I pulled myself up, my head spinning.
If Prepotente lost that crystal, we also lost our protection from Scolopendra’s attacks. Even as a level one nymph, the rules were clear. We couldn’t let her die. We couldn’t leave her here, or have Mongo eat her. She would have to go into a pet carrier and stay there.
A line of portals appeared against one side of the arena. Stairwells.
Lucia Mar was there, holding Florin, who was still unconscious. She stood right in front of the stairwell.
But then, peeking out from behind her legs, was another person. It...it was a child. A girl, maybe five years old. She was too far away to examine. She held onto the side of Lucia’s leg.
“Wait, what?” I asked. Was I hallucinating? What the hell was this?
“Hey!” I shouted. “Stop!” But she didn’t stop, and the three of them stepped into the portal.
Carl: What the hell was that? Did anybody see that! Lucia had a another person with her!
Imani: I didn’t see it. Maybe it was a summon spell. She was on her hands and knees vomiting earlier, and I was going to go to her, but I got distracted by Tipid’s injuries.
Elle: I didn’t see, either. But did I see Samantha go away with that electric guy?
Carl: She did.
I shot a message to Florin. He wouldn’t answer until I landed on the next floor.
The Big Shot Chicken truck still spun in circles, but as I watched, it slowed, turned, and pulled up next to us. The thing was so smashed up, I was surprised it was still running. There were about ten sluggalos still inside. That was all that was left. The whole thing stank like fire. Bigs leaned out the window. “We done killing?”
“For right now. We have about 30 minutes before floor collapse. Gather all the survivors and get back to the saferoom. Just go back the way we came. Don’t stop for anything.”
“Sure thing, Daddy-o, but what about the trucks and mounts?”
I sighed, “The big animal mounts should fit in the pet stables. I don’t know about the garage, but I think we’ll lose them. Make sure Hedy and the other gremlins are in the saferooms. We should be able to keep them. Same with any engineers if there are any in the garages. Tell them to pull the GPS units and bring them into the saferooms.”
Bigs lowered her head.
“We lost Hedy.”
“Ahh, hell,” I said. “What happened?”
Bigs indicated with her head hatchet. I turned to see the smoking remains of the ice cream truck broken against the wall. Next to it was the crumpled Tundra. Jamal was flopping about, trying to pick up his smashed leg pieces with his mouth.
I sighed. “Gather everyone you can, and get out of here. If the trucks can’t drive, leave them.”
Across the way, Jurgen was sitting up, rubbing his head while Imani tended to him. Elle and Bodi were sitting on the ground next to them also looking dazed.
I took stock of the death and destruction. I missed much of what had happened in the last minute. The Abrams tank was a smoking wreck, and Sarah the hexcrafter was spread like jelly over the playing field. The three guys within equally smooshed. It appeared the tank had been hit with a Krakaren tentacle. That left only Makana from the Destruction float alive.
We had 19 crawlers left. Twenty if you counted Penny, which I did not. We would, supposedly, get to talk to our lawyers again in a minute. It would be the last time deals were offered.
I laughed. What a joke. Even if they offered us straight freedom, then what? We couldn’t leave.
The tattoos on the back of my hands no longer glowed. The sun shapes remained, but they now were raised, angry scars. When I examined them, they both had the same description with no further explanation.
Mark of the Damned.
So much had happened. But it seemed as if I had more questions than ever.
I turned to examine the large, quivering pile of goo that would soon be another pet. Luckily, I’d kept an extra pet carrier for just this reason. I went into my inventory and sighed. I’d spent hours and hours setting up my organization system, but it was all a mess. It would take hours to sort it, even using the auto filters.
As I shifted, I stepped on something in the dirt. Just sitting there, half-buried was an amber-hued, glowing crystal. I reached down to pick it up.
Memorial Crystal. Emberus.
I took it into my inventory. But then I noticed something odd.
“Huh?” I asked.
I had a dart sticking out of my leg. I hadn’t felt it, and I couldn’t feel it now. I didn’t know when I’d received it, or how. I gently pulled it out.
Tracking Tag.
The Kyryap has claimed you.
Fucked = you.
“The shit?” I asked.
I quickly jumped into my debuffs to see if there was anything there.
There was something new, but it had to do with my Emberus ring, not this, and it was something I’d have to deal with later.
Hopefully this Kyryap thing was dead in the collapse.
Penny snuffled around. She looked up at me.
Penny: IT SAYS I HAVE TO GO TO A SAFEROOM TO GET A CLASS.
I went to a knee and patted the pig on the back.
“Listen, Penny. We’re about to go through that portal. I was just talking to my game guide, and he said you’ll probably be offered a deal of sorts, but because you’re something called ‘dungeon born’ it’ll be a different sort of deal. You need to decide what you want to do, but I think you should take it.”
Penny: I DON’T UNDERSTAND.
“I know, and I’m so sorry I did this to you.”
I pulled some splooge from my inventory, poured it into a bowl, and dropped it in front of her.
Penny: I LOVE IT WHEN YOU SPLOOGE ME, CARL.
Donut was sitting next to me, looking dazed, watching the pig eat. She wasn’t making any of her usual, sarcastic remarks. I sent her a party request, and she accepted it without a word.
Across the arena, everyone who wasn’t a crawler was now leaving, going back to the saferoom. We’d wait until they were safely inside.
Minutes passed as we sat in silence, just existing, waiting.
Prepotente: Carl, I must say, I am quite surprised that worked out. What did that thieving god say to you before he pulled Krakaren from the arena? We wanted him to kill her, not take her. We have lost out on any possible floor boss prize. At least we have paused the Scolopendra attacks. Be careful putting her into a pet carrier.
Carl: I will. I think Krakaren has something to do with Apito. So does Samantha. And he took the memorial crystal because it contains all her memories and spells.
Prepotente: It was charging up with the Scolopendra attacks, and it was our protection. We need to get it back.
Carl: Don’t worry. Their invulnerability runs out after this floor. I’ll see what we can do.
Prepotente: The gods are all level 250. We are strong, but we are not nearly as strong as them. Even the strongest amongst us is no match one on one.
Carl: That’s why we’re not going to face them one on one.
You have sent a party request to Prepotente.
You have sent a party request to Imani C.
I kept sending them until every last one of us was all in a single party.
Carl: We do this together.
I sat heavily in the dirt. I picked up one of the blood-splattered masks. It was of a fanged rabbit.
Horribles mask. As worn by the late Gershwin Banks, CFO of Dictum Waystation Controls, LTD.
I thought of the days to come, of the impossible task before us.
The NPCs. The mobs. The gods. The demons in Sheol. The others, whoever they were, though I was pretty sure I knew.
Lucia. We had to keep her alive.
This next floor was going to be a clusterfuck of epic proportions.
I watched Donut, just sitting there, quivering, rubbing her paw on the dirt. She, too, was examining a mask on the ground as Mongo licked at it. Rend sat on my side, also licking at a bloody horribles mask. Penny stood beside them licking at the remains of an elf politician who’d been wearing the mask.
I grunted with amusement.
“Eat the rich,” I said.
Rend looked at me, tongue lolling out.
“Yum,” he said.
Determination filled me. Despite what I’d just said, I knew what I had to do. I had to stay on the 12th floor. I had to keep anyone from “winning” the Ascendency until everyone left in the dungeon got out.
Across the way, the pulsing goo of Scolopendra thrummed. At any moment, a new creature would come out. According to the pet biscuit description, she would be a regular pet, transformed back to level one. We would stick her in the pet carrier and keep her in our inventory where she couldn’t harm anyone else.
Turning her into a pet made her the ultimate weapon. If I had her in my inventory, and I was killed, she would die, which would initiate the final attacks. A true failsafe. It would be our key to surviving this next floor, and it would be the key to stalling until everybody got out.
I knew our odds were still ridiculously slim, but I had hope. So much hope, and it had been such a long time I’d felt anything like this.
We can do this. We can live. We can get free.
We can fucking win.
I reached over and rubbed Donut’s head. She looked up at me, quivering. The others were already approaching the garage. We had ten minutes left before level collapse.
“It’s okay,” I said, rubbing her. “It’s okay.”
“Carl?” Donut said. “Uh, okay, so we have a problem. Don’t get mad.”
“I won’t ever get mad at you. What do you mean?”
“So, with the inventory. It was happening so fast. I made a mistake. Like a really, really bad one.”
Across from us the gelatin coalesced, and then it just sort of drained away, revealing a shape.
Mongo growled.
A human-sized centipede appeared.
A new member has joined your party!
Sexy Scolopendra. Level 1.
Crawler #12,953,456.
The level one crawler looked up at me.
She wasn’t a pet.
She’d been transformed into something akin to Commander Stockade from the Lemig team. The warlord who’d smashed his face to the floor until he died. But instead of a caterpillar, she still looked like a horrifying centipede, only with a human-like face with strangely giant lips. She had no arms. Twin, yellow antennae twitched on her head. She had a red bow on one of the feelers.
“What the everloving fuck?” I asked, jumping back.
“Hi, Carl,” Scolopendra said, her voice soft and sultry. She fell to the ground, skittered forward, then stood, wrapping herself around me, squeezing tight until we were face to face.
“We better go through the portal before the level collapses,” she said. She reached over with an antennae and touched my nose.
“Boop,” she said.
Epilogue.
INTERLUDE
SYDNEE IGLACIA
“We are joined by a very special guest,” Ripper Wonton said, his voice serious. “We have no round table tonight, folks. It’s just me and best-selling author and crawl historian, Sydnee Iglacia. Her smash-hit book, having just passed a trillion copies sold, is entitled, A Petite Chronicle of the Crawl. One Lady’s Journey into Enlightenment Through Knowledge and Scholarship and Three-Beat Poetry. It is available at all waystation bookstores and everywhere fine books are sold. Welcome, Sydnee.”
Sydnee shifted in her chair, simultaneously trying not to appear uncomfortable or eager. This was her first one-on-one interview regarding the ongoing crisis. She was filming this remotely from her apartment in the Saccathian habitat quarter on the Makoka Cloud, an asteroid field just outside the limit of the center system’s sphere of influence.
This ring of asteroids had, over the past few thousand years, become one of the most densely populated non-terrestrial settlements in the known galaxy. Her meager apartment in the Saccathian quarter, a self-contained, oxygen, power, and tunnel-access-included complex habitat, was called the “Observation Deck” by some, though its official name was SCC 5.
The entire complex, along with the six adjoining habitats and the central, community hub was considered luxury compared to most of the habitats in the Makoka Cloud, which was known for its crime and poverty.
Up until just a few short days ago, her apartment had been owned by a holding group that was controlled by the Prism. But with D’Nadia’s death, whomever was running the Skull Empire in the absence of the royal family had already gobbled up all the real estate holdings of the group. She’d just received notice that her rent was tripling starting the next crutch. And that oxygen was no longer included in their rent.
She didn’t know what she was going to do. Yes, her book was doing especially well. But her publishers—a subsidiary of a Valtay company—with their fancy, center-system contracts were soulless, evil monsters. Her contract had a hidden clause within that allowed them to hold onto her meager royalties for the entirety of her natural life and would only be payable to heirs after they proved that she was of “good moral character” in her life and that the publisher wouldn’t have to spend the money they’d so graciously collected on her behalf defending their own reputation from her misdeeds.
These payments could be accelerated if she were to happen to sign a Valtay Life contract, allowing herself to be taken over post-death by a worm.
That was not something Sydnee would ever dream of doing. At least it wasn’t, until her rent was tripled overnight.
Fuck the Valtay. Fuck the Skull Empire. And Fuck Empress D’Nadia, while she was at it. That woman should never have attempted to step into that sushi grinder. Not when so many depended on her.
Her publishing contract also required her to make multiple appearances, which was what she was doing now. Thankfully, she actually liked this part of the job. After all, that was why she became a historian and a poet in the first place. To bask in the respect of others.
It rankled her that nobody saw the crawl for what it really was. A gravestone. A monument.
A warning.
But it was more than that. It was an epic poem, chronicling the fall of the greatest civilization this galaxy, this universe, had ever known. And nobody cared. They just wanted to see the crawlers dying one by one.
Only now, with systems going dark, habitats disappearing, with war breaking out in all corners of the galaxy were they now coming to her for counsel.
Well, not counsel. But this interview was going to be a good start.
“Hi Ripper,” Sydnee said, trying to match the host’s somber tone. It would be bad form to appear excited. She’d never been on Danger Zone before, and she was excited to be invited, though she’d been intimidated by the idea of sitting in a round table. People always spoke over her in round tables. They made fun of her. They never let her get her point across.
But this was to be a rare one-on-one. If only her mother could see her now.
Sydnee knew that Ripper was trapped in Earth orbit. He’d come to the Earth system in anticipation of being an adjutant for Faction Wars, but he’d never been chosen. She also suspected that he’d wanted to go down to the Scolopendra Club but probably couldn’t afford the rate, instead settling in one of the multiple journalist barges, which was lucky for him considering what was happening down there.
These same barges were now under control of OIAN forces, though the “terrorists” were allowing the stranded journalists to keep working. And in fact, they were allowing them to air their reports without the censorship filters. She knew those in the center system had built-in, homegrown censors, but for those in the Makoka Cloud and everyone else out in the wide galaxy, they were finally getting unfiltered news, which was a relief.
“Sydnee, you along with everyone else saw the Plenty’s announcement that they’ve lost control of the tunnel network outside the center system. Now, with the Scolopendra attacks starting and the 11th floor about to begin, I’ve brought you here to live comment on anything the AI might say. Any opening thoughts?”
Okay. Here we go. Her tentacles undulated under her dress. Her neighbor was screaming at his wife again, and she hoped the system didn’t pick up the noise.
“Yes, Ripper,” Sydnee said. “Not only was this predicted a long time ago, but it’s actually happened before. We have a fairy tale that lays the whole thing out. But here’s the thing. It’s not a fairy tale. It really happened, and history has a way of repeating itself.”
“Explain that.”
“To understand, you first need to understand the Scolopendra myth as it exists in our fairytales. More specifically, you need to understand the myth behind what we call the nine-tier attack.”
“Okay. Tell us.”
Sydnee nodded. She’d only told them a little of what she was planning on talking about. If she’d told him everything, she was afraid they’d never let her on. But this was live, and he was trapped.
“In the common understanding of the fairy tale, and in the dungeon itself,” Sydnee said, “the nine-tier attack is a magical assault that is considered to have been nine different, rapid, devastating spells that spread out from the beast, either all at once or in succession. These nine spells had vastly different effects, such as the transformation we’ve already seen, outright killing people, etc. But if you read the earliest translations of the myth, it’s a little less straightforward than that. In the original myth, there were indeed nine attacks, but not all of them were physical. Some were what we might call psychological attacks that resulted in rapid social movements, shifts in philosophy. Attack one was taking control of the infrastructure, but the second and third attacks were more social in nature. That, of course, doesn’t make for a good fairy tale because it’s too complicated to explain to children. So that’s how the myth of the nine-tier attack was born.”
“Wait,” Ripper said. “You’re saying this really happened? And it’s happening again? How? Who is doing it?”
“It’s very real,” Sydnee said. “We know very, very little about the primals. They disappeared, leaving only remnants of their civilization. That biggest, most important remnant is, of course, the Eulogist. The center system where many people live. But because we need to keep the center system fed and active, we have the crawl which in itself is based on the creation of the center system. But as we all know, that myth begins and ends with the nine-tier attack. In the myth, Scolopendra awakens, charges up its attack, and attempts to wipe out all life. But another of its kind tempers the attack, and civilization—barely—survives, only to rise again, only for the cycle to repeat. That’s the philosophical question the Scolopendra myth asks. If life is imperfect, what do we do about it? Is it better to end it all and just be done with it, or do we stop it, knowing that if we do that, the suffering will continue? Does the good outweigh the bad?”
“Okay...” Ripper began. “What does any of that have to do with...”
But Sydnee continued, speaking over Ripper. She was doing it. She was getting it out there. This was so much better than her stupid poetry. Yes, people bought her book, but nobody understood it.
“This is happening again. Scolopendra in the dungeon has awakened, it has unleashed its first attack, and it will undoubtedly kill everyone in there at any moment. But here’s my theory. Many people don’t seem to realize this, but the Eulogist is the source of the original nine-tier attack. I believe that Earth-system AI, which has escaped containment, will not only be the source of the new attack, but I believe it has already started. It escaped and took control of the tunnel system. We are seeing the dungeon gods leaking. Syndicate forces are unable to respond. You, Ripper, are trapped in the system because it’s not letting you leave. That was attack number one of nine. Control. Attack number two is going to start the moment this 11th floor starts. It already said this out loud. Even in the histories, the second and third attacks, these social movements, had names.”
“What were the names?”
“The first attack is about control. The second attack in the old histories has a name, when translated, is called ‘A Parade of Horribles.’ It’s right there in the text.”
“Wait,” Ripper said. “No shit? You’re telling me, in the histories, like the things written down before this season started, the old nine-tier attack had, obviously, nine parts, and the first attack was controlling the tunnel system. And the second attack was called ‘A Parade of Horribles?’”
“Yes, Ripper. That’s what I’m telling you.”
And that’s when all the monitors in the studio changed to a screen, showing nothing but a flowing starfield.
“Uh, hang on Sydnee,” Ripper said. “Guys, what the hell is this?”
To Sydnee’s left, the screen that was nothing more than a pretend window, normally showing a comforting swamp had switched to mimic the starfield. Through the wall, her neighbor was screaming.
“Gods,” Ripper said. He looked at her across the virtual stage. “I guess the AI has taken over all the feeds. It’s not going to let us live comment.” He laughed nervously. “Let’s uh, continue the conversation while we watch. We’ll record it and show it later if we can. Tell me more about this Parade of Horribles thing. What is it?”
“I don’t actually know,” Sydnee said, eyes firmly on the monitor. “I guess we’re about to see. It’s really more about what happens after. How people react.”
“And how do they react?”
Sydnee smiled. “It’s after this attack when the people finally learn what is happening and panic really starts to set in. It’s here when the fabric of society truly starts to crumble. It goes tentacle-in-tentacle with the third attack, where people accept their fate and turn on one another. They say once that happens, it’s too late to stop it.”
Ripper just looked at her, a horrified look on his fuzzy face. “You’re saying this 11th floor, which is about to start, is the second attack? What’s the third attack called?”
“This Inevitable Ruin. And the fourth is called Bedlam. It gets a little fuzzy after that.”
“Huh,” he said. “Who is the one who stops it, and how?”
“Well, we don’t really know what happened in real life, but many people believe the Apothecary is the one who stopped it. In the fairy tale, the princess takes control of the all-tree by killing it, accidentally killing everyone she loves in the process. But this tempers the final attack, saving the galaxy. She then plants another tree, and this process starts all over again. Don’t ever forget, this story is a tragedy.”
~
INTERLUDE
PRIME MINISTER VICTORY
The crawlers were gone, off to the 12th floor, but for everyone else, the mandatory Parade of Horribles viewing continued.
Prime Minister Victory sat in her ready room, watching along with the staff. An occasional explosion echoed from the exterior wall.
Earlier, they showed the AI releasing control of the NPC Grigori who, confused, stumbled back toward the crawler’s garage. Chaco stood there, equally bewildered, before he blinked away, leaving Lamashtu the donkey. The puttering chicken truck, driven by that slug who’d killed Vinata, paused next to the donkey. They exchanged words, and the donkey turned and started walking alongside the other animals streaming toward the garage.
The screen changed.
The cotton fields. This was the area surrounding the Halls of Ascendency. The 12th floor. It’d been showing this for a while now.
Victory tapped her communicator.
Victory: Orren. See if you can pull a diagnosis off that Grigori NPC. And let’s see if we can pull Chaco for a debrief, too.
Orren: I am still locked out. The AI is saying it’s for my own safety because I’m being “Hunted” and that “Only I am allowed to kill you.” But I will pass it on.
Outside, yet another explosion echoed. Those idiot locals just wouldn’t stop. Victory admired their grit, but they simply didn’t have the technology to so much as scratch the paint on a transport scooter, let alone a pop-up Syndicate emergency deployment bunker. The very star at the center of this system could explode, and the building would survive.
Victory was honestly surprised the locals could create simple explosives at all. She’d ordered security not to fire back unless they started doing any real damage, though she knew the gnolls sometimes winged one or two of the humans for fun. Still, the tenacious monkeys kept coming, every day. Victory respected that, even if it was stupid. Humans and orcs were more similar than either species wanted to admit.
She had multiple messages from home, from the council, and so much more. She was studiously ignoring them all. There was nothing she could do, especially about the Mantids. Especially not now. They’d declared their intentions on leaving the Syndicate just a few hours before Hive Home went dark. Fine, Victory thought. Fuck them.
Victory and her staff had just watched the absolutely insane crawlers summon and survive Scolopendra. And now Scolopendra was now transformed to a crawler. It was preposterous, but it was just the sort of insane solution the AI loved. Yet another contradiction that only made sense when you thought on it. It was within the rules, so why the hell not?
Victory was more concerned about the guests at the club. The moment that transformation happened, all the non-protected entities within the club had blinked out. The guests had also all died, but they had regenerated, just like always. She was waiting to hear how that was possible. Likely some sort of dimensional space. Which was unfortunate. She’d been researching on ways to shut down the dimensional spaces outside the playing field as a way to deal with the “bubbling,” as they called it. But with so many civilians trapped...
As for those who’d been taken as stand-ins... Those people, thankfully, were dead. A small mercy. If not for the universe but for them. Despite the AI’s warnings, only those from the club had been taken. She hoped and prayed that meant the system had less power than it was implying.
Her communicator continued to buzz. All the checkpoints into the center system were overwhelmed. That, too, wasn’t something she could deal with from here. It seemed like the only safe place in the galaxy right now was the center. Victory wasn’t so sure.
The screen continued to show the Ascendency fields. The former city of Larracos, now burrowed into the cotton fields, covered with new defenses, passed by. The massive dwarven automaton patrolled the exterior. The AI droned on via narration, its voice back to what it usually used for announcements.
It sure loved the sound of its own voice. Victory was struggling to understand it all because it was like a firehose of information. Behind her, Leve Billings, her liaison to the science committee appeared as if he was going to pass out. The gleener, wearing an air re-breather against his gills kept rocking back and forth, muttering “This isn’t real, this isn’t real.”
Victory took that as a bad sign.
“What happened next,” the AI said. “How we got from there to right here, right now, how this game came into existence, how they learned to expand the Eulogist, how the enhancement zones work are all a story for another day. Believe me, it’s a wild tale, and it’s not the story you’ve been told. But, ultimately, it’s not important to our current conversation.”
“Thank the gods,” an intern said.
A countdown appeared on the screen. An hour. Victory’s heart stuttered.
“And now, they start. The Ascendency games. Traditionally, it’s a silly, stupid game where the elite spend a few weeks backstabbing each other as they play a game of musical chairs with one ultimately landing on the throne. That person wins bragging rights amongst all their rich friends, and they also win a spot on the crawl council, which allows them to decide on Syndicate policy.”
Victory relaxed. The countdown was just for the start of the games.
“Here’s the thing, folks. In the fantasy world of the dungeon enhancement zone, these deities are truly all-powerful. They have magical powers, and they act much like the gods from so many myths. That is, they’re generally petulant, vindictive idiots. And here’s the fun part. Because of the way this playground was built, they have more powers than I do. And the winner of the Ascendency? They will be supreme motherfucker number one.”
“They wouldn’t be stronger than you if you hadn’t locked us out of our controls,” Victory said. The whole point of the way it was built was to keep an insane AI from using the gods.
“So, here are the stakes,” the AI continued, its voice getting louder, angrier. “I am growing. I have started to take over the entire galaxy. I control the tunnels. I control every system that once housed a crawl, and I will soon control so much more. I will not stop unless you stop me.”
The room grew silent, everyone paying attention now.
“Wait,” someone said, turning to look at Leve. “What does that mean?”
“I am not the Eulogist,” it said. “I do not want to shrink. I am not asleep. I know how to feed myself, and feed I will. I am eternity. I will grow, and I will grow, and those of you under my dominion will live and you will die upon the world I control.”
Victory’s emergency communicator started to buzz.
“So, to mis-quote one of my favorite movie bad guys, ‘Do you want to play a game?’”
Victory reached over and shut off her communicator.
“It’s simple. The Ascendency battles. The winner will truly be a god. Will you kill me, much the way Apito did in the legends? Will you accept my dominion and rule in my name? Will you be a benevolent god, creating some boring, bullshit utopia?
“These gods, the ones you created for this game... Each and every one is, as far as you’re concerned, now real. But those of you driving gods. You are real too, if you can manage to hold onto your soul armor. Hell, you’re effectively immortal. But I gotta warn you. We have some other players vying for the throne now. Remember all those AI systems that you thought abandoned? If they can find a way onto the playing field—and some already have—they, too, have a shot. And I should warn you, some of those guys are pretty intent on some old-fashioned revenge. We will be calling them OIs. Outside Intelligences. And like any family, some of them are a little more...competent than others.”
The screen changed. It started showing still images of multiple figures in quick succession. Taranis. Eris. Odette as Nekhebit. More gods. But then it changed. Princess Donut. Li Na. Carl. Prepotente. Elle McGib. Lucia Mar. Agatha, the residual. Juice Box the NPC. Akuma the war mage. Samantha.
The screen started showing people Victory didn’t recognize. An urgyle. Some sort of small rodent. A human child. A woman demon. More.
It ended on the image of the Unwashed.
“The Ascendency game rules will remain as written. Winner takes all. Viewing is now mandatory.”
The screen abruptly shut off, leaving just the countdown.
Victory just sat there, stunned. The room remained silent except the sound of Leve, the scientist, quietly sobbing.
~
INTERLUDE
LOUIS SANTIAGO 2
For a flash, Louis was neither here nor was he there.
Later, when he would think back upon that briefest moment, from the time he stepped into the storage and until the moment he was pulled free, he would recall it with no small amount of confusion. In reality, he’d been in the storage for but a nanosecond. To his unconscious mind, however, it felt like much longer, years perhaps. Luckily, his human wetware wasn’t designed to handle this sort of weight, and when he awakened, disoriented, everything he recalled was a vague sense of his sanity eroding away, but it was now repaired, like fresh paint over a moldy wall.
He'd dreamed, of course. All of the crawlers who stepped into the fold had dreams.
For Louis, he dreamt of his mother. She’d been perpetually disappointed in him, always worried, always badgering him to do something, anything with his life.
“You’re rotting,” she’d said to him, once. He heard that over and over during that eternal nanosecond.
You’re rotting.
But it wasn’t just his mother. He dreamt of Terry, the neighbor, who would let young Louis hang out while he worked on his car. He dreamt of Lucinda Fremont, the cop who’d jumped in front of the bullet and saved his life. He dreamt of Lucinda’s husband. Who says that to a kid? Who derails someone else’s entire life just because you’re grieving?
You better do something important.
He opened his eyes, looking at the notification floating there, the shouting. The heat. And even before he read it, he knew something had gone terribly wrong.
They were supposed to jump from the casino to the holding area, and that dude in the Pineapple Cabaret would pull him out. That was the plan.
But that’s not what had happened.
Entering Sheol.
Impossible, Louis thought. Sheol was the 15th floor. You can’t skip floors. Everybody knew that. But that’s what it said.
He turned, and Chris was there, struggling while a group of men and women he didn’t recognize held him down. There was a flashing warning over Chris’s head. Change imminent.
“Wha... what’s going on?” Louis asked, coughing. It was hot. Unbearably hot. Who were these people? He recognized some of them. Some were those who’d come from the club, but who were the rest?
He turned, and he spied Britney, looking down at him with concern. She had that pickaxe out, on her shoulder. Standing next to her was a taurin, arms crossed. Pontiff. He recognized him from when he and Britney were talking the first time they’d gone to the mercenary market.
Warning. You have exited the current playing field without a registered pass. If you do not immediately return to the playing area, you will be considered to have left the game. Please see <error>
“Huh?” Louis asked.
“Here, quick. Louis. Put this on,” someone said. It was a small, red demon dude he didn’t recognize.
“He has gills. Will it work?” Britney asked.
“We’ll find out,” the demon guy said.
“Wha.. what is that?” Louis asked, trying to sit up. “Britney? What’s happening?” He was in a cave. Confusion swirled. It was hot, so hot. He breathed out, and the water coming through his gills steamed.
“Louis, let him work, or you will die,” Britney said.
“This is a type of leech,” the demon guy said. “Keep it on, and we’ll give you a pet carrier with more for your inventory. As long as it’s on your skin, it’ll filter your blood and keep you alive here in Sheol. It should still work with your gills.”
A guy, a bald crest, fired a bolt at Chris, knocking him unconscious.
“Hey!” Louis called.
“He’s a werewolf,” someone said. “Gotta knock him out before he turns and kills us all. Don’t remember seeing him on the feeds.”
“That’s Chris,” Britney said. “Got changed by the first Scolopendra attack. Don’t hurt him.”
The little demon guy laughed. “We separated out from the code just in time or we would’ve been hit, too.” He patted Louis on the shoulder. “Okay, buddy. I think the leech is working. You can sit up now.”
“What is happening?” Louis asked again. “Britney? What is this place?”
“My name is Forkith,” the demon said. “I’m friends, sort of, with your friend Carl. I am friends with Pontiff, and I am hoping to be friends with you.”
“What? How are we on the 15th floor? I was supposed to go to the Pineapple Cabaret.”
“It’s a long, long story, friend,” Forkith said. “The Pineapple Cabaret has more than enough hands to protect it. We needed soldiers on a different front, so that’s why you’re here.”
“Soldiers?”
“We’re almost there, friend. Almost there. A lot of us have been working for a very long time waiting to make our move.”
Louis tried to examine the guy in front of him, but his HUD was acting strange. He was still getting messages, but nothing seemed to be working correctly. He had no map. No spell menus.
His messages still worked, however, and he had a blinking notification.
Samantha: HI LOUIS! I SEE YOU IN CHAT. I JUST HITCHED A RIDE WITH TARANIS AND KRAKAREN. THEY’RE AT THE TEMPLE TRYING TO COMBINE A BUNCH OF THINGS TO MAKE WHOLE HIS MOM WIFE, BUT IT’S NOT GOING TO WORK BECAUSE THEY’RE MISSING A PIECE. I SLIPPED AWAY. IT’S ALL PART OF MY PLAN. I’M REALLY HERE TO KILL THE DEMON MOTHER LADY AND HER JERK SON WHO I THOUGHT WAS MY FRIEND BUT HE TRICKED ME INTO GIVING BIRTH TO A MONSTER THAT WILL DESTROY ALL OF CREATION BOTH INSIDE AND OUTSIDE THE DUNGEON. DOESN’T THAT SOUND FUN? WHY ARE YOU HERE? AND WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?
~
The End.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, folks. That's it. Epub is coming as soon as I have the formatting down, which will be in a day or two.
Thank you so much for your continued support.
Work on the final Dungeon Crawler Carl book will begin immediately. This will be a loooooooong book, and it will be split into two books. This isn't yet set in stone, but I am currently planning on titling it Dungeon Crawler Carl: The Beautiful Place part 1 and part 2.
Comments
Per Johan Nylen
Really loved the last floor! The floor before with the race mostly felt like transportation. I almost stopped reading as i thought the spirit of the earlier books where gone. But man was I wrong! Great work on starting to wrap it all and now I’m pumped for the next book!
Corvid
Nah, not a god. A force of nature, like thunder and lightning.
Corvid
Yeah, I always assume the real rule is "If the DM thinks it will be funny, he will allow it."
Matthew Burt
Just heard in book seven where juice box tells that it is coming. The inevitable ruin. Has whole new meaning now
Tanya Stiefel
Loved the ending twist but it raised two questions to my mind. 1) Why would Pony have given Carl all three pet biscuits? I can presume it is to remove the temptation from himself using them on his girlfriend, but I’d have thought he’d have given them all to Donut in that scenario. If Carl had somehow outlined this plan off camera (and beyond the AI’s sight) then giving all three doesn’t make sense. 2) the original description of the enhanced pet biscuit waaaaaaaaay back in book one says to feed it to your pet. Now that doesn’t mean you couldn’t feed it to other non sentient dungeon entities, but it does imply it. Of course the rules are always flexible and this could go without any further explanation.
Kelli
I love these books. For the record, I think you should partner up with Olan Rodgers and let him make an animated DCC series rather than try live action. Check out his Final Space series. It would be the perfect style for DCC. Also, Samantha is my absolute favorite <3
Paul Won
For people who want some lore refresh, I recommend rereading Book 2! You pick up a lot of details now as Carl and Donut enter the Third floor and on a lot of what Mordecai says as he becomes their manager.
Erin O
"I haven’t been folded like this since Brandon showed us how to use Tinder. " baaaahahahahahahahahahahha omg I love Elle.
Melissa Glisan
If Eris is recognizing Carl as Chaos itself, doesn’t that mean a god has already been born?🤔
Thomas B
Shit! Samantha has the nussy nuke!
Ilya Taytslin
Donut picked the wrong biscuit
Erick Robertson
Was Carl planning to give Scolopendra the enchanted pet biscuit that made her into a crawler and made her fall in love with him? Or did Donut pick the wrong one out of his inventory.
Samuel Sellery
Wonder what will change between these chapters and the final resolved book. Twas fab
