Whenstone stepped off the platform, then waved them after him.
“If you’d like to know why Odditor let you land, perhaps it's best you ask him yourself?”
With that, he strode into the hallway.
Everyone else hesitated.
“This is what we came here for,” Zelda said. “So what are we waiting for?” She stepped off the elevator and jogged to catch up with Whenstone.
Gotta admire her dedication.
Thorne swallowed any doubt the monstrous noises had created and followed after Zelda. Titus and Kaiden were right behind, though a glimmer of blue light revealed Titus had flicked his shield on.
“This is straight spooky,” he said as they continued down the hallway and the overcast, gray light from outside was replaced with dull metallic tones and the dim yellow lights that lined the floor and led them onward.
The monstrous chorus grew louder with each step as Whenstone took them toward whatever was responsible for the noise.
“Odditor is this way?” Kaiden asked from behind, his voice unsure.
Whenstone’s only response was to wave them on, then disappear around the corner. Thorne hurried after him, not wanting to get left behind in the darkness. It was silly, she knew, to be afraid of a game, but sometimes Nova felt so real it was easy to forget you were even playing it.
Zelda turned the corner first, then skidded to a stop. Thorne nearly bowled her over, but managed to slip to the side with only minor contact.
“What was that about?” she asked, looking at Zelda. But she didn’t reply. Instead, her eyes were wide and her mouth open as she stared at... something.
Thorne followed her eyes to the thing she was looking at. Except it wasn't just one thing; it was a dozen. No, more. Two dozen, at least.
Beasts, monsters, gigantic insects, and things Thorne had no way to describe all stared back at them. Some mewled, others howled. Some seemed itching to strike, claws as long as Thorne was tall and twitching in anticipation. Some hissed and reared back, fangs and venom glands threatening a quick death. Everywhere Thorne looked there were eyes looking back at her. Some reptilian, others mammalian, and still more she couldn’t classify.
The only mercy was that they were all in cages.
“Odditor’s Menagerie of Madness,” Whenstone said, walking confidently down the middle of the hall and gesturing out to the cages stacked three high on all sides. “He’s rather fond of it. It has taken an extremely long time to collect.”
“These things are really high level,” Kaiden whispered. “My visor’s reading none of them below forty. Most above fifty.” As he spoke, he stepped closer to Titus, who raised his still-active shield into a ready position.
“Have no fear,” Whenstone said, then frowned. “Well, fear is healthy, and many of these majestic creatures are efficient predators. Fearsome to face in a fight. But they can’t harm you now. Not as long as Odditor decides to keep them in their cages.”
“‘Decides to?’” Thorne asked. “Are you implying he might uncage them?”
Whenstone shrugged.
“It’s not for me to speculate. Come, now. Odditor is waiting.” And with that he continued down the hallway.
The cages and beasts and echoing growls continued as they progressed deeper into Odditor’s base. From what Thorne could see as they walked, her initial assumption about the place had been correct. It was a big ring. The hallway they were in followed a curve so gentle it seemed unending. At every intersection, they passed hallways which allowed views down into the center of Odditor’s Madhouse.
It was a view Thorne recognized all too well from the streams she’d watched. At the center of the massive building was the whole structure’s focus and purpose: the labyrinth. At present, it appeared dormant. The walls stood unmoving. No grachnids screeched from within. And no player ran for their life, desperately trying to outwit, outlast, or simply outplay whatever monstrous challenge awaited. But all of that could change, Thorne knew. Would change during the next stream. Hopefully not sooner.
Watching through a stream, the whole deal made for good entertainment. Now, walking through the very halls so many others had trodden before perishing in the labyrinth, Thorne was starting to reconsider that opinion.
The menagerie was mostly behind them now, though. Instead, the cages were replaced with... museum exhibits? Thorne did a double-take. Instead of monsters behind the glass there were now life-sized figures, unmoving and posed in various ways. Some looked to be in combat. Others accomplished seemingly random feats such as repairing a ship or scaling a mountain.
“What are these?” Thorne asked, squinting in the low light to get a better view.
Whenstone gestured, and lights clicked on inside the displays.
“Oh. Oh, wow.” She felt her breath catch in her throat.
With proper illumination, she could make out exactly what the displays were: players, dressed in their finest gear and posed in scenes of battle or great triumph. All of them, though, were dead. Or more specifically, retired. It was easy enough to tell from the empty, still darkness in their eyes.
“These are all trophies,” Zelda said. “And they’re authentic? Not recreations?”
“Everything Odditor owns is authentic,” Whenstone said as if insulted by the suggestion.
“I’m sorry,” Kaiden said, seemingly confused. “I don’t understand. Are these not just manikins?”
Zelda pointed to the nearest one.
“Trophies are deactivated accounts, normally from players of some acclaim. Top-level PVPers will sometimes put their accounts on the line in exclusive tournaments. It's seen as the ultimate form of PVP. To lose is akin to permadeath. Whoever beats you gains your account.”
“Like racing for pink slips,” Titus said.
Thorne nodded along, then jumped in herself.
“PVP isn’t the only source, though. Players who’ve achieved notable firsts – like exploring a new system or completing a new legendary-tier dungeon – can sometimes gain enough acclaim to make their accounts valuable. When they retire, or just really need some real-world money, they can deactivate their accounts and sell them to become trophies. Considering the most famous of accounts sell for hundreds of millions of credits, and even less famous ones
