“Okay,” Ron said, nodding vigorously.
God I hope he got the message, Jeb thought with a sigh. I could go for a smoke, and I don’t even smoke.
Not for nearly a decade now.
Not since he’d noticed he was trying to kill himself using cigarettes as the weapon, just before he’d been discharged.
Thinking about being discharged led his train of thought toward the reason, which inevitably ended with him glancing at the forest canopy above them, wondering when the spike was going to drop through it, crushing him.
The thought sent cold goosebumps up his arms, but Jeb was used to feeling like that. It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t an attack. Not in the strictest medical sense.
Jeb mentally gave the spike looming above him the finger, and attempted to steer his hijacked thoughts away from it.
What was up with that dream? He thought, unbidden, train derailed once again. I’ve had that dream where I’m the one under the beam for damn near eight years now, but I’ve never, Never, had someone talk to me during it. That was new.
Was it simply the dream mutating because his stressful circumstances were causing more activity in his prefrontal cortex, or was it something to do with the extra supernatural clarity derived from high Myst?
Jeb didn’t know how much he liked that last thought.
He traced the scar with his thumb while he stared into the dark forest.
I’m alive.
“We’re back!” Brett called out as they strode back into the clearing with everyone.
“Excellent,” Jeb said, standing and shoving his worries aside to focus on the right now.
“We’ve gotta find a safe place to camp, but in the meantime, Brett, do you still have that Body potion?” Jeb asked.
“Oh yeah, I pocketed it before the shit went down. Guess I forgot.”
He patted around his clothes for a moment before paling. “Ah, shit. Sorry, it looks like it was attached to my belt, which was attached to my armor.”
“Which was on fire,” Jeb said with a nod.
“Okay, listen up,” Jeb said. “We need to get Casey Thompson the Third’s Body up to eh, the twenty or so range by feeding her every Body potion we find, so we’re going to be boss hunting for a little while.”
Jess narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“So the baby can withstand more than fifty G’s of impact force without suffering long-term damage, obviously.” Jeb said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Listen up, people, I’ve got a plan, but it’s going to be the equivalent of being shot out of a cannon. We need to slay some bosses, raid some dungeon, replace our gear, and especially make sure our precious cargo is tough enough to survive a little rough handling.”
Casey clutched her baby tighter to her chest, giving Jeb a suspicious look.
“You want to shoot my baby out of a cannon?” She demanded.
“Casey,” He said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder and looking into her eyes.
“This is gonna work.”
***Days Later***
You are now level thirty eight!
Jebediah Trapper
Mystic Trapsmith, Level 38
Body 21 +2
Myst 71
Nerve 26 +3
Abilities: Mystic Trigger
“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Amanda asked, looking at Jeb’s contraption.
“Positive,” Jeb lied.
Sitting in front of them was the pyramid shaped construction, the most complicated Trap Jeb had ever put together, with thousands of If/Then statements woven together, allowing it to engage in a sophisticated manner above and beyond any of Jeb’s previous traps.
He’d tested it, retested it ad nauseum, until they began pushing close to the deadline of the wipe. It was good to go.
Hopefully.
The construction was about two feet tall, topped with a space generating lens, and filled with some of the hacked up guts of the Scrivener. When he’d removed the shrinking lens, the entire thing had ballooned out to about the size of a football.
Right next to the space generating lens was the remains of the void lens, to deal with the treasure chest.
The contraption itself remained nameless.
Jeb didn’t know exactly how much the people who ran the show were paying attention, but he didn’t want the description of the item to roll across someone’s desk and raise flags.
He also kept the details of the plan close to the vest, in case the System was listening in.
Paranoid, but…after everything he’d seen, Jeb felt like a little paranoia might go a long way.
“Alright, is everybody strapped in?” Jeb asked, glancing around the clearing.
One by one, they nodded, checking and double chacking their harnesses, making sure they had all their gear. Casey nodded, with her daughter swaddled up in a tiny metal cocoon. The baby didn’t like it, but that was tough titties. Last thing they needed was a dead baby.
“Alright, Jess. Do the thing.” Jeb nodded at Jessica, who stood above a struggling giant lizard monster thoroughly nailed down to the ground with telekinetic force.
Jessica swung Razorback down with enthusiasm, decapitating the restrained boss monster.
Ding!
Your party has cleared the eastern plains dungeon! Please take your rewards.
And here… we… go. Jeb thought, his heart trembling in his chest as he waited for the sphincters to show up. Moment of truth.
There was a whistle of air behind him, and Jeb turned to see the copper-tipped spear being jettisoned away from him, caught by his anti-missile trap.
The copper creature’s warleader ducked under his own missile, snatching it out of the air as he charged Jeb, moving like a streak of shiny orange despite being down a foot.
“Shi-“
The creature tackled Jeb across the midsection, throwing him across the clearing as the treasure sphincters appeared above them.
Jeb’s creation followed its programming.
The
