Greater Wyrm 5.3 (Patreon)

[Diving]

— Ancalagon —

“It’s a bold strategy from the execs. We’ll have to wait and see if it pays off for them and for the Guild party,” I commented.

‘Wait, wait, what’s going on there?’

‘Corporate fuckery, I’d say.’

‘Oh, without a doubt. That’s scheming if I’ve ever seen it.’

‘They, like, REALLY reacted to the party dropping Ancalagon’s name. I suppose it makes sense that he would have a reputation in the Sixth World, though.’

“Reputation,” Calamitas deadpanned. “Yes, that’s one way to put it. Ancalagon was a Great Dragon in that Age, one of only 20 that could be considered peers.”

“Yet even at that highest of Draconic tiers, there were differences in status and importance,” Jenevelle added. “Sire was on the more active end of the ‘Great Dragon’ scale. His was a name one wished to remember, for there was a non-insignificant chance that one might actually run into him as opposed to most Great Dragons.”

“I wouldn’t say I was an enemy of Renraku, but I wasn’t a friend, either,” I explained. “I was, however, a near-sworn enemy of Saeder-Krupp, the Hoard of the Great Dragon Lofwyr. We were Draconic rivals. That is where the driving details of the Guild’s situation here come in, given their affiliation with me.

“Saeder-Krupp also maintains a significant presence in the Zone, due to their headquarters nearby in the Allied German States. That megacorp and Renraku could be considered rivals at the top of the world — the number 1 megacorp and the number 3, respectively —, and so, it’s rather natural for Renraku executives to seek to ‘get one over’ on Saeder-Krupp where they can.

“Now that they know the Guild party was contracted by me for their shadowrun in the Zone, they have the chance to do just that. Saeder-Krupp will almost certainly oppose all the parties of the Dive, given their affiliation with me, so the Renraku execs seek to get into my good graces by helping my shadowrunners and to strike an opportunistic blow against their premier rivals in the Zone at the same time.

“For the Guild party, there are benefits to playing along with their scheme and negatives as well. The results will ultimately depend on how they manage those considerations through their adventure in the Zone from here.”

‘… It’s WILD to think about how real the Dungeon’s ‘simulation’ is.’

‘Oh, for sure. The power shown there is on a whole other level, if there were any doubts about the DRAGON in our midst at this point…’

‘Is it even a simulation after a certain point? Like, those ‘NPCs’ are just… real from where I’m sitting.’

‘The depth of detail is absurd.’

‘The Dungeon even preserves backstories and stuff!’

‘It’s a window into a whole other world… A whole other Age…’

‘You know, Dharla’s Moon cult is starting to look like it has some real merit to it.’

‘Eh, I’d still consider Ancalagon Draconic, not divine. There’s a difference there somewhere. I don’t know what it is, but it’s there.’

‘Either way, this shit is MYTHICAL!’

‘Good luck, Guild party. I feel like you’ll need it dealing with all the megacorporate fuckery.’

‘They’re still some of the most ridiculous aspects of the Sixth World to me. The megacorps, I mean. SOVEREIGN corporations, pulling the whole world’s strings…’

‘It’s like the New World Order if it were corporate, driven by profit as much as control, and they didn’t bother hiding a single thing.’

‘The closest comparisons I can make are, like, the Elite, Gesellschaft, and maybe the Guild, too. But even then, it really isn’t all that close.’

“The megacorps required unique circumstances to rise to such prominence, especially considering that rise started before magic’s return,” I said. “Earth Bet boasts a different sort of foundation for power to be built upon.”

“Indeed,” Jenevelle agreed. “Your cape organizations are similar in some ways to the megacorps, but not truly comparable.”

‘Thank God for that…’

‘Is it bad that I prefer the cape orgs and factions?’

‘Nah, devil you know, and all.’

‘It could always be worse, I suppose.’

The stream switched its focus off the Guild party, relegating them back to the side streams dedicated to each party. I looked for another party to focus on, and ended up finding two that were coming into close contact.

Both the Empire and Dojo parties had had relatively uneventful Dives so far. That was about to change as they stumbled across each other. The Dojo had the initiative there, spying the Empire party as they took a short break before being seen themselves.

“How kind of the enemy to present themselves like this,” Bang considered aloud. “Shall we give them a lesson, my dear students?”

“Loose the leash, Sensei,” Garou requested, a vicious grin overtaking his face.

Mizuki flexed, “I could test myself.”

“They’ll never see me coming,” Sonic whispered.

Bang nodded, “This, I believe, is where we’ll perform best in the Second Dive. We are fighters, not investigators. We should arrange ourselves to showcase the fight that burns in our hearts.”

“I’ll tear them apart,” Garou growled. “The parahumans need to know that they can be prey, too.”

His Wild Huntsman totem surged to match his cape vendetta. It manifested a bow in his hands, ghostly but real. He stood with all the grace of a predator, a true hunter.

Meanwhile, Mizuki’s Champion totem responded to the challenge in front of her. It rose at her back, destined to be victorious. She suddenly bore a medallion on her neck, further fortifying her impressive physical prowess.

Sonic’s Diving Falcon totem manifested as wings of wind that embraced him from behind. He twitched, pure speed. It was begging to be unleashed.

Bang’s Stream totem remained serene, unstoppably flowing through him. He would cut through all obstacles put before him.

“It looks like we have the Dive’s second PvP clash ahead of us,” I commented.

‘Oh, this should be good.’

‘The hunt is on!’

‘The Dojo has magic, but otherwise, they’re just normal people, right? Like Lady’s party, only martial artists instead of soldiers?’

‘They don’t have cape names, so that’s probably right.’

‘Oh, this should be GOOD, then!’

We watched as the Dojo began their hunt. Garou and Sonic rushed ahead slightly, stalking down the hill they were perched on toward the Empire party’s position, where they had stopped on the side of the road.

Kaiser had gotten out of their transport to stretch, while Krieg stood watch. Fenja and Menja used the party’s short break to relieve themselves, venturing a bit away but remaining in sight.

‘Hehehe… They’re in danger.’

‘At least the Empire party didn’t completely split up. But I think they’re still too far apart to really help each other once Garou pounces.’

Garou was on the hunt. He led the Dojo pack. Bang and Mizuki held back slightly, not as suited for the hunt. Sonic, however, was his bird on the wing, practically flying through the treetops right behind him. Garou’s Huntsman totem blended him into the wild, eliminating any sight, scent, and sound of his passing.

Only his burning hatred for capes remained. I tracked him for the stream by that. We watched him slip through the trees until the Empire twins were in sight. Right in front of him, the girls never stood a chance.

Not that they were caught completely unawares. Their twin lioness totems were hunters, too. With their aid, primal intuition made the twins realize they were being hunted.

‘It’s already too late…’

Garou pounced, and Sonic dove into the fray right by his side.

The first was the perfect ambush; the latter was the perfect blitz. A spiritual arrow flew straight and true, right into Menja’s heart. A gasp was torn from her chest, and she immediately burst into PvP coins.

‘One nazi down!’

Fenja barely got time to react to her sister’s ‘death’ before a diving blur was upon her. She activated her parahuman transformation, now tinged with lioness features. Sonic was undeterred from his dive, a missile of ghostly feathers that leaped to cut her down.

He scrambled over the growing giant, stabbing kunai into her flesh. Fenja roared — literally roared. The Lioness’s cry alerted her allies. Distantly, Kaiser and Krieg jerked to full alertness.

Then, while Sonic scrambled over the growing Fenja, Garou rushed in to take her with a spiritual boar spear. The spear impaled itself in the flesh of her thigh up to the stopping crossguard. The pain only made Fenja fight harder.

She thrashed, throwing Sonic off her. He was speed, but only speed. A glass bullet. She flung him into a tree, and his back broke on impact. Fenja swiped at his shattered form with ghostly claws, shredding him to confirm the kill.

‘Freaking ouch, dude. That can’t feel good.’

‘B-B-B-Backbreaker!’

Sonic burst into PvP coins, torn out of the Dive. Garou quickly avenged him.

The boar spear in Fenja’s thigh was joined by another, summoned forth from the ether. The business ends impaled her thighs while the opposite ends anchored themselves in the ground below, trapping her.

No matter how she struggled, she couldn’t free herself. Garou leaped, winding up a strike to take his prey with his fists. His fist slammed into her chin. Her head recoiled with neck-snapping force. Fenja, too, then burst into PvP coins.

Kaiser and Krieg were still distant, by their party’s IFV, for Garou’s hunt was over in seconds. Before they could futilely join the twins, Bang and Mizuki emerged from the woods in front of them.

The old martial artist simply walked, approaching the remaining Empire pair as serene as a stream. Mizuki bounced on the balls of her feet, shadowboxing the air with a challenging grin on her face. Moments later, Garou joined the rest of his party from the direction of the twins’ deaths.

“Two for you and one for us. Personally, I think we should call this even and be about our separate ways,” Kaiser called out. “Krieg, mount up. Quickly now. Get us out of here.”

As soon as he said that, Garou rushed his remaining prey in an attempt to prevent their escape. He was just a second too slow.

The IFV peeled away at speed, smoke rising from its many tires and the remaining Empire pair within.

“Dammit!” Garou swore. “Cowards! Why didn’t you-?!”

“Do not cast blame,” Bang chided him. “Simply continue your hunt. You can track them, can you not?”

Slowly, Garou grinned, “Better than they know.”

“Nothing to it, then!” Mizuki cheerfully chimed. “Let’s get after them! They owe me a match at least!”

“I would like to show Kaiser how his Iron can rust,” Bang considered aloud, a terrifying statement from an old monster. “Come now, before the trail goes cold.”

As the Dojo party gave chase to the fleeing Empire pair, the ‘dead’ of the fight appeared back in the Tower, whole and hale.

“Oh, that was not at all pleasant…” Menja said, shuddering.

Fenja immediately rushed to her sister’s side, “Menja! Thank god you’re safe!”

Sonic just scowled to himself, “… I should’ve been quicker.”

“You little bastard!” Fenja rounded on him. “I should-!”

“No fighting after you’ve been eliminated,” Jenevelle said sternly, cutting off the hostility before it could spiral.

“I’m afraid that’s where your Dive ends today,” I told them. “Rest assured, you still put on good showings. You will still see Growth. Yes, even you, Menja, if likely less than you would like. It is the commitment to adventure that truly counts in Nature’s books.”

Their adventurer cards updated themselves now that they were out of the Dungeon. Like Armsmaster’s Protectorate party, the only experience Menja gained was entering the Dungeon. It counted for one level, but nothing more. Meanwhile, Fenja and Sonic gained two levels.

It would be interesting to check in on everyone after the Second Dive to see how they’d all individually grown…

‘Better luck next time!’

‘Regular-ass (magical) people sweep!’

‘Man, the Dungeon’s PvP is so cool. I wonder what those coins are worth.’

‘No trouble for the Dojo. Shame Sonic’s out, but he was avenged. I’m looking forward to seeing Garou hunt to his cold, twisted heart’s content.’

‘Eh, Bang seems pretty good about keeping him in check. If Garou didn’t have the Dungeon to exercise his vendetta, though, I might feel a bit more uncomfortable about him. He’s rather… openly villainous.’

‘Can’t blame him. For regular-ass people, capes tend to suck. Honestly, it’s good to finally have someone stand up and shout that sentiment.’

For now, while the Dojo continued their Empire hunt, I switched the stream’s view to another two parties, these two working together.

Both New Wave parties had had the good fortune to be dropped near each other from the start. Furthermore, they had the ability to find each other with the flight-capable members of each party.

They’d teamed up rather quickly as a result and now formed a mini-convoy of two with flying escorts.

They were actually positioned somewhat near the Empire and Dojo parties, starting in the south of the Zone, while the other two parties started southeast and east, respectively. It didn’t look likely that the neighboring parties were going to run into each other yet, though, since New Wave was still near the edge of the Zone compared to the other two crossing paths deeper within.

“God, that’s just… absurd,” Mark muttered. He was looking and sounding much better with a spiritual Sun to warm the cold, depressed hole in his mind.

“Most things even tangentially related to Ancalagon are, Dad,” Amy snorted beside him.

The father-daughter pair was seated atop one of New Wave’s two IFVs during a short planning break. The place they’d parked had a good view outward, watching over the edge of the Zone. There, a wall separated the SOX from the outside world.

It was a rather significant structure, well-kept by the Zone’s corporate administrators — a towering wall that cut through the landscape as a gray scar of reinforced concrete.

Two rows of massive spikes ran along the top of the wall, angled in and out. They were more a warning of hostile architecture than any effective deterrence by themselves. Between the rows of spikes, turrets were emplaced at regular intervals — guns that would make whole armies hesitate.

The SOX was the Megacorp Administrative Council’s little slice of isolated, extraterritorial heaven, and they defended it as such.

“A whole country and parts of two others,” Mark said. “Just… set apart. Left to die.”

“I haven’t seen the Simurgh containment zones, but I imagine they’re something like this,” Amy nodded.

“Yet… we’re here. Having an adventure,” Mark continued. “And I’m actually excited about the idea…!”

Amy smiled, “I’m glad, Dad.”

“Hi, Glad,” Mark joked. “I’m Dad.”

All the dads in chat reacted to that one, almost synchronized through some odd dad hive mind, ‘It’s so beautiful.’

‘Brings a tear to your eye and a chuckle to your belly.’

‘One of us, one of us, one of us…’

I wasn’t immune, either, chuckling, “Truly, dad jokes transcend all Ages.”

Amy gave him a little, exasperated shove, but she clearly enjoyed the paternal attention. While the two of them bonded, Sarah and Carol planned the combined New Wave party’s next move.

“We’re in strange, strange territory, Carol. Nothing we’ve experienced before,” Sarah said.

“But we’re not directionless,” Carol argued. “We have an objective to seek out: Feuerschwinge. We just have to find out what happened to… her.”

“Where do we even start looking for leads on that?” Sarah asked.

“Not that way, Mom,” Crystal pointed behind them at the Zone’s wall. “For some reason, I don’t think they’ll be very accommodating to polite questions. Might be all the guns. Might…”

“Especially not going from inside the Zone,” Eric agreed. “They probably have a shoot-on-sight policy when looking this way.”

“Eh, we can take ‘em,” Victoria shrugged.

“Don’t see why we should, though,” Neil chuckled. “Crystal’s right. If we’re looking for leads, we’ll have to look the other way.”

“It’d be best if we could find some friendly faces to talk to,” Crystal considered aloud.

“Ancalagon’s briefing implied that not all of the Zone’s factions are hostile,” Sarah reminded. “We just have to find a reasonable one.”

“Friendly faces? In what’s essentially an isolated apocalypse? Yeah… We might have some trouble with that,” Victoria giggled.

A moment later, a distant rumbling grew loud enough to be heard clearly over the conversation. Mark and Amy were the first to react to the source.

“Uh, guys? We might have some company,” Amy called out.

Contrary to expectations, the rumbling noises weren’t coming from deeper into the Zone; they approached from the direction of the wall. Mark, Amy, and the stream could see a gang of motorcycles kicking up dust down a dirt path through the forest. Following it back the way the gang came, the path originated from an isolated and ignored section of the wall.

The only legal ways in and out of the SOX were manned and maintained by the megacorps collectively. New Wave could see one such checkpoint from their position.

It wasn’t busy. Traffic would defeat the point of the Zone’s containment. Only the rare, officially sanctioned shadowrunner teams passed through the checkpoints, and even then, they relied on the guards of their megacorp employers to get through.

Illegally, though, there was plenty of demand for connections into and out of the Zone. The Ghost Rats filled that vacuum, SOX tribes of smugglers with a foot in both worlds.

They were instrumental in keeping the unofficial population within the Zone alive and exploiting the unique profit opportunities that could be found within.

“… Ghost Rats, right? Ancalagon mentioned them,” Crystal said, coming to look at the approaching company beside Amy and Mark. “It… could be worse.”

Mark nodded, “Smugglers have to be at least passingly reasonable to engage in trade.”

“Or they could not be. They’re probably reasonable with known factors. We’re not,” Amy deadpanned. “They might think we’re trying to edge in on their business. Or they could just shoot first, ask questions never. That seems like a good way to survive the Zone to me.”

“We won’t know until we ask ‘em, Ames,” Victoria said. “Here, I’ll go drop in and say hello! Crystal, carry Amy and stay back a bit. Eric, try to keep up! This should be fun~!”

“No-!”

“Victoria Jessica Dallon-!”

Sarah and Carol both tried to stop her (with Crystal, Amy, and Eric close behind) from flying off impulsively. They did not succeed.

‘Aaaaannd… she’s gone.’

‘Poor Ghost Rats. They’ve got Collateral Damage Barbie incoming.’

‘That seems… hasty, even for Glory Girl.’

‘I think she’s just extra excited today.’

‘At least she brought backup…?’

“Give Glory Girl a bit more credit,” I said. “Notice how she’s effectively split up the New Wave parties again? Perhaps that was calculated. New Wave’s older generation was rather insistent, but I can’t imagine the younger generation is all that eager to embark on an adventure with their parents watching over every step.”

‘Even if it was purposeful, she didn’t think it all the way through. Photon Mom can fly, too, and the rest seem close behind in the trucks.’

‘Nice try, Glory Girl. You’ll shake ‘em next time!’

The stream’s view focused on Victoria in the lead, a wickedly excited grin on her face as she flew. The rest of New Wave’s younger generation were right behind, despite Amy’s groaning.

Sarah pursued, though, and quickly overtook her children to fly beside Victoria. She directed a glare at her niece.

“Victoria…”

“Hmm? Sorry, can’t hear you! I’m engaging in aggressive diplomacy!” Victoria shamelessly chimed.

“Not too aggressive!” Amy shouted from behind the leading pair.

Crystal giggled, “Who are you asking not to be too aggressive again, Ames?”

Amy grumbled, “She heard me. I know she did.”

“Did you say something, Ames~?” Victoria teasingly called out. “No, no, must’ve been the wind.”

“I’ll show you wind when I wind up your fuckin-!”

Amy didn’t get to finish her shouted retort; Victoria dove toward the Ghost Rat gang before she could.

The Ghost Rats below had already seen the incoming fliers, and were reacting with wary confusion. Spirit-assisted flight was possible in the Sixth World, but it required rather specific spells, circumstances, and preparations. It wasn’t something the locals saw every day.

“Hi~!” Victoria called out, keeping a bit of distance in the air. “I’m Victoria! We’re kinda lost! Think you lot can point us in a specific direction?”

‘… Nailed it. We’ll see if she actually stuck the landing or if she doesn’t even realize she just faceplanted.’

The Ghost Rats were a colorful bunch, some two dozen strong. With their connections to the outside world, they boasted better equipment than the rest of the Zone’s unofficial population, while still maintaining the grungy, scrappy, necessary innovation of those forced to do more with less.

They were humans, elves, and orcs, mostly, all clad in wasteland chic. Some of them even boasted chrome, an impossibility of acquisition and maintenance for the Radpunks and Glowpunks of the Zone.

“The Ghost Rats are a good first encounter for them,” Calamitas commented. “Though I do remember them sticking to themselves when they could. Their challenge now will be breaking through the understandable wariness that comes with life in the Zone.”

“That, I believe,” I chuckled. “Is where Victoria’s aggressive diplomacy comes in.”

Three figures stood out to my experienced eyes as the leaders of the Ghost Rat gang. I noticed that Sarah seemed to pick them out of the gang as well.

She sighed, descending beside her niece, “Yes, hello. Sorry for just… dropping in like this. But we could really use some directions.”

“The rest of your names first, strangers,” An old, male human called out.

He was the oldest of the Ghost Rat gang, probably its founder, having seen the creation of the Zone. He had the grizzled and weathered look of a hard-lived, ever-persevering life about him, but his danger came from experience, not any sort of augmentations or magic.

His bike was a beast, mounting machine guns above the handlebars and stocked with enough to show he was ready for anything the Zone threw at him and his gang.

‘Always fear the old man in a young man’s profession.’

‘My biker uncle WISHES he was this guy!’

“Crystal!”

“… Amy.”

“Eric.”

“And I’m Sarah,” Sarah finished off the diplomatic introductions.

“Mighty young for a team of shadowrunners in the Zone,” The old leader observed. “Family business?”

“You could accurately call it that, yes,” Sarah chuckled. “Can I get your name as well?”

“Edward, once,” The leader grunted. “These dark days, everyone calls me Old Edd.”

“This young punk is Via,” Old Edd continued, gesturing to the other two leading figures of the Ghost Rat gang. “And the nicest of us is Yvonne.”

Via was a chromed-out elf who looked like she held her augmented body together through grit, gumption, and good improvised engineering. Her skin was porcelain pale and her hair was an almost flaming blue, beautiful in the unique style of a wasteland razorgirl. She rode a vicious-looking bike of mismatched parts, scrap that she’d turned into a deadly steed.

‘Hubba hubba. I CAN’T fix her. And I’m okay with that.’

‘How much of a cyborg does your partner have to be before you become a robot fucker? Asking for… academic’s sake.’

Yvonne, meanwhile, was an orc shaman with a ‘hippy-punk’ sort of style to her, not uncommon amongst those who followed the Sixth World’s shamanic magical traditions. She had dusky skin, dreads kept in a high tail and decorated with feathers and other magical reagents, and she was looking up at New Wave’s flight with stars in her eyes.

“How are you-…?” Yvonne asked, surprisingly shy for someone in the Zone.

Her shyness quickly faded in favor of magical enthusiasm, “That’s… That’s amazing! Is it a wind spirit? It has to be a wind spirit! Or maybe some kind of bird…? An invocation, certainly. So maybe… feathers, a song, and a bit of consecrated ash for the wind…?”

She trailed off, muttering magical theory to herself. From the way Old Edd barely reacted, it must’ve been a common occurrence.

‘Oh… Oh, she’s adorable.’

‘The tusks are cute, but not gonna lie, it’s the passion that really does it for me.’

“Introductions out of the way,” Via said, crossing her arms over her bike’s handlebars. “What’s your deal, chummers? Why the fuck are you just… flying about… the Zone? And what’ve you got to trade for our help?”

“That’s a… complicated story,” Sarah said. “We’re on a job, I suppose, and we’re looking for leads on how to see it through. As for what we can offer…”

“What, you guys don’t want air support?” Crystal asked, only half-joking.

Via grinned, “I’ll admit, I do like the sound of that. But how are we supposed to trust you to watch the tops of our heads?”

Sarah turned to Amy, “Would you be willing to give them some quick tune-ups?”

Amy let out a huffing sigh, “Even in the Dungeon, I can’t escape…”

“We could also offer them one of the IFVs,” Sarah pointed out. “You don’t have to heal if you don’t want to. I… won’t force you.”

“… No. No, I’m interested,” Amy agreed after only a moment of thought, eyeing both Via for her augmentations and Yvonne for her orcish physiology.

“Healing, then,” Sarah said, turning back to the Ghost Rats.

“You won’t find a better healer in the entire Sixth World!” Victoria praised.

“It takes a whole lot of trust for us to put ourselves in your healer’s hands,” Old Edd warily argued.

“Take it as a promise, then,” Amy offered. “Once you get over yourselves, come to me, and I’ll put you in the best shape of your life.”

“Johnny’s leg never did heal right, Edd,” Via said under her breath.

“Aye, and we could all use a good rad-cleansing ritual or two,” Old Edd grumbled in agreement. “Alright, we’ll take that promise. And the air support, too. We’re on a deep run, but if you tag along, maybe we can point you in the right direction along the way.”

“That sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Sarah said, letting out an exhale of relief.

“See, it’s fine,” Victoria defended her impulsive action that had started the interaction. “They’re perfectly friendly!”

“I wouldn’t call us friendly, runner,” Via chuckled. “Just open to compromise. You’ve gotta be in the Zone. Don’t go trusting us too much, though.”

“You’re going to turn on us when it most benefits you, aren’t you?” Amy flatly asked.

“We-! We wouldn’t do that!” Yvonne insisted.

Contrary to her insistence, Via winked at Amy. Old Edd just grunted and glanced away.

“Oh, what a shame,” Crystal put on a playful sigh. “You don’t seem that bad, ya know? I’d hate to have to kill you for your inevitable betrayal.”

“That’s the Zone for ya!” Via laughed.

“Welcome aboard, for now,” Old Edd grunted. “Stick close. But not too close. I still don’t quite trust you, runners.”

“We have more coming on the ground,” Sarah informed them. “Just so you know. Please don’t shoot the big trucks that they’re in on sight.”

“Trucks, eh?” Old Edd took an interest in that information. “How’d you get those past the wall…? No, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, after all. Would you be willing to trade one of them? Might help us build up some trust, and we could always use additional carrying capacity.”

“We could stand to part with one, I think,” Crystal said. “Right, Mom? Two is kinda unwieldy anyway.”

Sarah nodded and took over the negotiations for such a trade with the Ghost Rats. I commented on the developments we’d seen from them.

“We’ll check in on them as they continue deeper into the Zone with the Ghost Rats. It’s a good start. New Wave just has to be wary about trusting too easily. The Zone is a cutthroat place. Its rules are written by survival and survival alone. So long as they prove their usefulness, however, they shouldn’t feel the bite of betrayal.”

I switched the stream’s focus again, transitioning to another party as they went through the opening hours of the Second Dive. As I did, Calamitas, Jenevelle, and I summed up what the stream had seen so far and updated the audience on various parties.

“Lady and her party have given us our best look at the combat capabilities of the Zone’s most freelance predators; in the Zone, those PMCs are second in the food chain to only the megacorps. They were also the party to reap the Second Dive’s first blood. Now, they delve deeper, ready to take on whatever the Zone might throw at them.”

Jenevelle nodded, “So far, the Dojo and Empire have been the only other parties to engage in PvP. The Dojo won that engagement, by my reckoning, drawing the Dive’s second blood. Now, they continue their hunt as Kaiser and Krieg flee.”

“Meanwhile, elsewhere, we’ve seen the Guild party’s interactions with the megacorporate players of the Zone. That situation has potential, and we shall be watching it with great interest. Hookwolf’s Fenrir party is putting on a good show of violence against some of the Zone’s Invae. If they survive that nest, they will be a force to be reckoned with for the rest of the Dive — their strength proven in brutal combat.

“Hmph,” Calamitas sniffed. “Miss Militia’s Protectorate party persists, surviving through the test Shadow Stalker’s Jaguar totem is throwing at them. ’Tis a challenge she will gain much from overcoming. That spirit generously favors survival. 

I hummed, considering the next party, “The MOX… hmm, let’s see… Yes, they’re still contending with the mischievous spirit that has them in its grasp. As wicked as that Fae spirit seems, I assure you, they could’ve encountered much, much worse in the Zone’s twisted astral state. It is toying with them, but they are experiencing and learning much; a somewhat fair trade. If they successfully strike up a deal with it, they could reap rather unique gains.

I continued, “I will say that Faultline’s party is having a somewhat uneventful Dive so far, but I don’t believe that will last. I know from memory that they’re currently headed straight into Radpunk territory. We’ll have to check back with them once they make contact with the locals.

“That leaves… The Undersiders and my Hoard’s party. Oh, they started quite near each other, though they seem to have taken different paths through the proverbial neighborhood. Understandable, considering my Hoard has limited prior experience in the Zone. The Undersiders are roaming completely blind, which must be a great frustration to our dear Tattletale.

“My Hoard’s party will be next in the queue, I think, but first, shall we watch the Undersiders fumble about in the dark?”

‘Too many choices! All of them are interesting, too! I don’t know which side stream to follow!’

‘When in doubt, let the Dragon show you the way.’

‘Personally, I’ve had Lady’s stream pulled up on my second monitor this whole time.’

‘I feel like Faultline’s party is kind of a sleeper pick for the Dive. Hopefully, the Radpunks won’t be too much for them.’

‘I’m still a Vista stan. She’s bound to pull some powerful BS out of her adorable little ass.’

‘Just a warning: be careful when pulling up the MOX stream. That Fae shit’s like a cognitohazard.’

The stream came to focus on the Undersiders as they were scoping out a somewhat distant arcology. This arc was rather starkly different from the one we’d seen before — a brutal, neo-militarist complex compared to the near-solarpunk corporate architecture of Renraku’s.

Most of the arc was bunkered, built straight into one of the region’s sprawling hills. The most visible feature was a massive satellite dish, with the rest of the above-ground construction cast in its shadow.

It was bustling with activity, visible even from the Undersider’s distant, scouting perch. Tattletale used her power to intuit all that went on within.

“There’s… a lot of firepower in there,” She said. “I’m seeing multiple PMCs and even more… corporate security, to boot. They either have something real important to defend… or the defense is the point of the base.”

“A mil-base?” Regent eagerly asked. “That’s so cool. Please tell me we’re raiding the fuck out of that shit!”

“Absolutely not,” Grue put his foot down. “This isn’t one of your games, Regent, and I’m not going to treat it like one.”

“Dying in the Dungeon is still going to suck real bad. I’d prefer to keep my glorious body intact, even if the Dragon can put it back together again as if nothing happened,” Tattletale agreed.

“Unnecessary,” Bitch grunted. “Don’t fuck with the fuck-off big pack in its lair.”

“Aww, you guys are no fun,” Regent theatrically whined.

Grue turned back to Tattletale, “Can you tell which… megacorp it belongs to?”

“From Ancalagon’s briefing? Saeder-Krupp,” Tattletale answered. “You know, the biggest megacorporation in a world full of megacorporations? The one led by a Dragon?”

Grue winced, “Yeah, we’re giving that a wide freaking berth, then.”

“They’ll be patrolling their territory,” Tattletale pointed out. “Like one of the gangs in the Bay, but on an infinitely larger scale, with infinitely better tech, training, and… fucking magic.”

“C’mon,” Regent whined again. “Are we really gonna turn down that challenge? We’re thieves, aren’t we? The plucky rogues, going up against the giants!”

“Denied. Absolutely denied,” Grue held up his arms in an ‘X’. “I don’t care how good the loot would be!”

“It’d be pretty good, Grue,” Tattletale argued, half-heartedly playing Devil’s advocate. “Like, pretty damn good. If — IF — we pulled off a heist on them, we’d be set for life.”

“We don’t get to keep the loot unless we make it out of the Dungeon alive…!” Grue hissed.

“You’re right,” Tattletale held up her hands in a placating gesture. “I’m just saying, that’s all.”

“Pick off the weaklings that stray from the pack, then,” Bitch chuffed.

“That does have some potential,” Tattletale considered.

Grue thought for a moment before nodding, “I can agree to that. IF we get the chance! Let’s not seek them out and start shit where we don’t have to. We almost certainly have to get deeper into the Zone than this to accomplish Ancalagon’s objective.”

“Yeah,” Tattletale sighed, turning her gaze to scan the Zone’s horizon. “The dead-not-dead Dragon… Somewhere… I can estimate some potential hotspots to check out from here, but my power’s not getting anything concrete. It’s working consistently, at least, unlike when I try to intuit anything from Ancalagon or anything related to him. And… Loki seems to have… taken a shine to it, so that’s… something.”

“Something?” Bitch cocked her head, visibly not quite understanding the strain in Tattletale’s voice. “What something? Spirit is Pack. Totem is Pack. Simple.”

“Says the dog girl who got the Dog totem!” Regent laughed.

Bitch shrugged, “It fits, I sits.”

“Isn’t that phrase more commonly associated with cats?” Grue asked, chuckling.

Bitch glared at him, “Don’t. Good dogs sit. Cats are cultural appropriators.”

The other three Undersiders blinked at her uncharacteristic vocabulary before collectively deciding to move on.

“Loki’s like a second me in my… spirit,” Tattletale said, explaining her spiritual experience.

“Knowing you? Sounds messy,” Regent remarked.

“As if yours could be any less messy, Mr. Venus,” Tattletale scowled at him.

Regent shrugged, “Venus and I are getting along like a good gangbang. Except each body in that gangbang is me and her, and her and me, and… well, yeah.”

“Great, a self-enforcing loop of narcissism,” Tattletale snarked.

“Don’t knock it until you try it. I’m great.”

“There’s such a thing as too much Regent. And it tops out at three-quarters of you.”

“And there isn’t such a thing as too much Tattletale? Please.”

“Girls,” Grue deadpanned, cutting off their bickering. “Focus. We’re in unprecedented enemy territory. Tattletale, do you have any leads for where we should even start to look?”

“I can think of some-…” Tattletale began to nod before abruptly cutting herself off and paling. “… Run.”

In an instant, Grue was alert and heeding her warning. Bitch was just as quick. Regent just blinked, “Wha-?”

Regent’s slow reaction didn’t end up mattering that much. Their scouting perch had placed the Undersiders at the edge of a small cliff, with a thick forest expanse at their backs. Now, from between the trees, a full tribe of figures began to emerge — prowling, stalking, hunting.

Most of the figures were ghouls, twisted and hungry with their undead look. They were mangy and pale, with milky white eyes, mutated jaws, and claw-like nails. Contrary to their appearances, their clothes were in good shape, and they wielded primitive weapons, visible evidence of intelligence and civilization persisting through their infection.

Rare between the ghouls were hunched, hairy bodies, with ever-snarling maws — Werewolves. Those instantly set Bitch on edge, growling a warning right alongside the dogs she’d brought into the Dive. The werewolves growled right back, but they weren’t truly canine at all, only looking it. Any unorthodox, animalistic communication failed as a result.

More common than the werewolves but less common than the ghouls were massive, 2.5-meter, ape-like figures clad in snow-white fur and baring tusks transformed into vicious, cannibalistic fangs — Wendigos, the results of MMVV-infected orcs.

The trapped Undersiders faced down the diverse MMVV-infected tribe, frozen in shock and horror. Tattletale was visibly twitching, her power almost certainly feeding her information that was better left unknown.

Not a word passed between the hunters and the prey. The infected merely surrounded the Undersiders and… waited.

‘Oh, FUCK! That CANNOT be good!’

‘They’re so, so much more horrifying up close.’

‘My pants? SHITTED.’

‘Turn around and jump right off the cliff!’

‘Yeah, better to risk the fall damage than be eaten alive.’

“Hmm,” Calamitas considered. “’Tis not the worst situation they could’ve found themselves in.”

‘This isn’t the worst?!’

“By their behavior,” Jenevelle explained. “These are not the feral infected of the Zone, the ZombiKarni that Lady encountered and ran off the road. Those would’ve attacked on sight, driven by hunger worse than any beast’s.”

I nodded, “The Undersiders might not realize it, but they do have a chance to get out of this with all of their body parts intact. I wonder what is keeping this tribe of infected from falling feral…”

My curiosity was answered a moment later as one more figure emerged. It came not from between the trees, but seemed to materialize out of thin air as magical camouflage was left to lapse.

The last infected of the tribe was a rare one, not originally metahuman, but a metahuman-adjacent sentient species of the Sixth World in the same manner that Dragons were — a Sasquatch.

Unfortunately, sasquatches were closely enough related to metahumans to be susceptible to MMVV, too, transformed into either Jabberwocks — sasquatches who retained their minds through the MMVV hunger — or Bandersnatches — terrible, madly hungering beasts who could not exist in any reasonable society, sasquatch or metahuman.

If this infected sasquatch was the latter, the Undersiders and all the infected of the tribe they faced would never have seen it until they were all devoured.

The jabberwock towered over even the wendigos by a good margin, nearly three meters of bestial fur and muscle. The other infected deferred to it, though, and it did not throw its tribe into violence. Instead, its massive hands came up and began to twist into signs.

“You are in dangerous territory, and you have been seen. A patrol draws near. We must make haste to avoid the Dragon’s soldiers. Follow, or you will surely perish in a leaden hail,” The jabberwock signed.

Shocked, Tattletale translated the jabberwock’s sign language for the rest of her party. Then, she laid a whispered, amusing curse upon my name.

“Ancalagon… What. The. Actual. FUCK have you thrown us into…?!”

IIIII

[AN: I planned this chapter with an ‘in-Dungeon’ POV, but the stream format was too much fun to cut short lol. We’ll get back into the Dungeon in the next chapter with Glory’s POV. Since the Hoard party kinda knows what they’re doing in the Sixth World, I think I’ll throw them a curveball and send them anomaly hunting. Even if you know the lay of the land, anomalies are bound to be… well, anomalous. Just need to figure out something interesting for it now.

That should round out the opening chapters of the Second Dive, though. Then, we can get going deeper into the Zone with everyone essentially established, and have party plotlines start to collide. I’d say… maybe three/four more chapters? We’ll see, but I’m certainly not getting bored with this yet!

And of course, after the Second Dive, there will also be the Dragon-level Dive that I promised. Look forward to that in the end-arc interlude ;]