Joe sat on the wrinkled sack, his eyes locked on the crumpled leaflet in his hand. The words on the page were like poison, each sentence laced with Andras’ manipulative charm. “It’s all propaganda, designed to persuade the ascenders who still had doubts of Andras’ intentions.”

  Rose let out a heavy sigh. “Of course he would. What’s he telling people?”

  “The first line says it all—false promises.” Joe read it aloud for TJ and Rose to hear.

  To all Ascenders, your loyalty will be rewarded. Join me in the fight for fairness and together, we will give every Ascender the chance they deserve.

  Rose scoffed. “What’s his angle, why’s everyone turning Hostile on us?”

  “Because he’s blaming us for being power hungry.” Joe clenched the leaflet, reading the lies.

  Every titan battle gives an opportunity for everyone to rise, but certain factions are monopolizing these chances. Two titans—two chances to change your fate—both snatched away by the same group. Ask yourself, how did they defeat them only to grab every precious crystal time loot for themselves?

  “If we were, then we’d all be in the Green Zone.” Rose grumbled under her breath as Joe continued.

  The Titan Slayers are cheating the system; there’s no doubt about it.

  TJ crumpled the canned drink between his palms. “That elf needs to be GORED for calling us out.”

  Joe shook his head. “But fear not, for I, Andras, will ensure this corruption is exposed and dealt with. We’re going to make this game fair, and make it work for all the Ascenders. Believe me, I promise you, you’re going to love winning.”

  Rose held a hand to her mouth. “Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Let me see that.” Ryan approached, gesturing for the paper and Joe happily gave it away. He nodded to Gaia who stood beside him. Joe appreciated seeing her wear a green hoodie again, even if she hadn’t taken the time back from his battlebox win.

  Rose crossed her arms. “I never trusted that dark elf. He’s feeding other factions lies and making us out to be villains like we can rig the system to win these titan battles.”

  Joe glanced around the room as other ascenders whispered in hushed tones, casting an occasional accusatory eye their way. “They’re believing it because they’re desperate, and Andras is giving them a target to blame for their lost chance at the titans.”

  “We need to be careful.” Ryan groaned, looking back up from the paper. “If this continues, we won’t simply be dealing with Andras. We’ll have half of the ascenders coming after our alliance, convinced we’re the ones keeping them down.”

  “You're right.” Joe stood up, but paused at the low hum vibrating from the walls. Screens flickered to life, capturing white noise.

  Rose flicked her hair. “Not another lich announcement.”

  “Can’t he figure out his own technology?” TJ laughed.

  If they could see the screen, Joe didn’t need to activate Quick Wit to see some subliminal message. Instead, his eyes widened as words appeared in the corner of the screen like some TV network, followed by the background of the second floor cinder pines and ferns.

  Gaia shrugged, though she seemed more interested than she let on as her eyes stayed glued to the screen. “It’s footage from the floor.”

  “Uhh,...what’s a Hollow Cam?” Rose also stepped closer to watch.

  Joe’s gaze circled the room, catching the flicker of every single screen as they blinked to life. At first glance, they all seemed to be showing the same thing—footage from somewhere out on the second floor. But then he noticed the differences: some screens labeled “Hollow Cam” were like first-person shooter games, while others gave a bird’s-eye view of the action.

  Murmurs of confusion rippled through the room, echoing Rose’s own stunned silence. Everyone was slowly piecing it together—they were seeing through the eyes of a Hollow. But how the hell was that even possible? And why were they being shown this now?

  “Is it a live feed?” a guy with a hoodie draped over his shoulders asked his buddy, who just shrugged, equally baffled.

  Joe’s stomach twisted into a knot. Oh shit, what if it is? Brian and Dawn are still out there.

  He pushed through the crowd of ascenders glued to the screens, brushing shoulders with Rose, who stood frozen, her lips parted as she watched the horror unfold.

  Joe didn’t wait to see what happened next. He yanked up the party chat interface:

  Joe: Brian, Dawn, drop what you’re doing and get the hell out of there.

  He marked the message urgent and hit send, praying one of them would see it in time.

  TJ was suddenly at his side, his body swayed as he shifted his weight back and forth. “They’re not answering—why the hell aren’t they answering?” His eyes darted toward the exit leading to the second floor, like he already knew the grim answer.

  Rose glanced at Joe, her voice tight with forced optimism. “They’ll be fine. The two of them are together—they’ve got each other’s back.”

  Joe nodded, though the knot in his stomach only tightened.

  “I’m going out there.” TJ took a step toward the door. “If those Hollows give chase, they’re too fast to outrun. Their stats aren’t built for speed.”

  But then he froze, his eyes glued to the screen. The Hollow Cam shuddered, and a low groan rumbled through the speakers.

  The Hollow emerged from the shadow of towering Cinder Pines, stepping into a barren, rocky clearing. Joe tensed as the recognition hit him like a punch to the gut. He flicked his eyes to the other screens with aerial views, and his worst fears solidified. It was the plateau—the very spot where Tremorion had fallen. The same plateau where they’d last left Brian and Dawn.

  Rose gripped his arm, her fingers digging into him. “It’s them.”

  Joe’s eyes snapped back to the Hollow Cam. The blurry image at the center sharpened into focus—a hunched form crouched low, and another standing tall with their back to the Hollow.

  “Turn around, Dawn!” TJ yelled, charging up to the screen and pounding on it with his fist. “Turn around, damn it! Run!” The desperation in his voice sliced through Joe like a knife.

  The party chat buzzed with frantic messages, but none of them were from Dawn or Brian. Around them, ascenders’ attention ping-ponged between the screens and their own private chats.

  “Look, that screen changed.” an ascender pointed out, elbowing his friend. “Another Hollow Cam.”

  Joe’s heart pounded in his chest as he followed the guy’s gaze. The ascender was right—three, no, four more screens switched from aerial view to Hollow Cam, all closing in from the same direction as the first.

  Nerus, please help her, Joe pleaded silently, his eyes locked on the screens.

  The Hollows stopped about ten paces from Dawn and Brian, their gray forms trembling with barely-contained hunger. Joe willed them to make a noise, any noise, to alert Dawn to their presence. The party chat exploded with more urgent messages, but still nothing from Dawn or Brian.

  Why the hell hadn’t they seen them yet?

  Dawn’s shoulders tensed, the movement so subtle Joe almost missed it. But as he zoomed in, he saw the shift in her stance, her hands starting to glow with fiery energy. Seconds later, Brian paused, stowing a bottle as he tilted his head toward her, still crouched low.

  The moment stretched out, painfully long, like a high-noon showdown in one of those old gunslinger movies, fingers twitching, waiting to draw.

  Then, in an explosion of motion, Dawn spun around, her eyes blazing like molten embers as she unleashed a fiery geyser from her hands.

  Brian jumped to his feet, his eyes wide with horror as his voice echoed through the speakers. “There’s too many of them!”

  A wall of searing white heat filled the Hollow Cams. They flickered to black, and when the screens switched back to aerial view, Joe’s stomach lurched. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might burst from his chest.

  Rose’s grip on his arm tightened, her nails digging in so deep it hurt. Joe placed a calming hand on hers, trying to ease her panic and his pain.

  TJ was still closest to the screens, his eyes wild and full of helpless fury, like a bull ready to charge. “What are they waiting for? Run, damn it!”

  But the aerial shots showed just how futile that would be.

  “There’s nowhere for them to run…” Rose whispered, her hand falling limply to her side. Joe shook out his sore arm and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, but her eyes never left the screen.

  Dawn sent wave after wave of fire at the Hollows, but it only temporarily blinded them. The physical attacks didn’t even scratch their undead forms, and Brian’s alchemy bolts were just as useless. The Hollows tightened around them, closing in like an undead noose.

  Brian kept his crossbow raised, his finger trembling on the trigger. “We’re like cornered rats.”

  “Yeah, but never underestimate a rat. That’s when they’re most dangerous,” Dawn said, pulling out her weapon, though her face betrayed the futility of her words. “I’m a changeling, you’re human. We both know what needs to happen…I’m not letting you take a time penalty for taking your own life.”

  “I can’t let you do that, Dawn. This is my fault—I got too caught up collecting Titan Tears and didn’t factor in that Hollows could ambush us.” He aimed the crossbow at her, point-blank.

  “Don’t you fucking dare!” she shouted, the force of her words spurring the Hollows into action. But Brian’s bolt hit her first, right between the eyes. She crumpled to the ground, and the Hollows swiped at empty air where she’d been only seconds before.

  Brian’s hands trembled, grief and resolve battling in his eyes. He turned the crossbow on himself and closed his eyes. “It’s been an honor, guys. Don’t judge me too harshly. See you in another life.”

  A Hollow obscured the view, its twisted form seething with dark energy. The frenzy ended quickly, the Hollows shuffling away, their madness passed on like it hadn’t ever been present. Notifications began popping up on the screens, just as Dawn reappeared in the common room, gasping as her respawn token activated.

  Rose rushed to steady her before she collapsed, her muffled sobs breaking Joe’s heart while the others stared in stunned silence.

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  Joe’s attention snapped back to the screen where Brian had been only moments before. It was now a black abyss, but TJ placed a hand on it, as if he could reach through the screen to his friend. He hung his head, shoulders slumped in defeat.

  Suddenly, one screen flickered back to life. On it, Brian stood alone with a blank stare, his orange clothes turned to a dull gray. Above his head, a “GORED” notification hovered.

  “How come his respawn token didn’t activate like Dawn’s?” an ascender asked his friend, the confusion clear in his voice.

  “Remember what the Lich said? There’s a penalty for killing yourself. Looks like there’s also one if you kill a member of your party.” Dawn’s eyes softened, reading the same notification as Joe.

  TJ stepped back, moving to stand beside Joe, his voice low and pained. “Why the hell did he do that? He’s a clever guy, but that was just…stupid.”

  “There’s no stupidity here.” Joe shook his head, his voice quiet. “Brian knew exactly what he was doing. He chose to save Dawn, knowing he was condemning himself to being gored.”

  Brian stood on the screen like a ghost, but there was a flicker in his eyes that gave Joe a shred of hope.

  He turned to the others. “There’s still time. He hasn’t gone full Hollow yet.”

  Brian’s image faded, replaced by a blank screen. At first, there was nothing but the broken, mechanical laughter Joe had heard once before. His blood ran cold as the screen resolved into a grotesque clown mask, its white face stark against the black background. The mask grinned with sinister delight, its eyes inky pools of malice. The laughter continued, looping like a demented recording, as words typed across the screen:

  How was that for edge-of-your-seat entertainment? Much more exciting than battling boring titans on every floor. That gets old really fast. The Lich wants you to believe this is a fair game, but you all know by now that this is not a level playing field. We are all clowns, but no one is laughing except the Lich.

  The screen cut to black.

  We are all clowns…the phrase hit Joe hard. The Time Hacker hadn’t said you are all clowns—he’d said we. That subtle shift turned mockery into unity. Like V for Vendetta, this wasn’t some lone rebel’s fight. It was a rallying cry to unite against the real enemy.

  The Lich.

  A crackling, guttural sound of pure rage erupted from the speakers, making Joe wince as it echoed through the room.

  All the screens filled with the image of the Lich, struggling to compose himself, his ragged yellow-gray tongue licked his mouth. “That was fake.” He wiped his temple with a bony hand as if clearing a drop of sweat. “A fake and illegal broadcast, I might add. Poppy and my system guardians are hard at work narrowing down the culprit. Won’t be long now.”

  Dawn rubbed her temples as if the Lich’s words physically hurt her. “Wow, that was…something. I think I lost a few brain cells just listening.” She stared at the Lich, her eyes narrowing as she leaned back, crossing her arms. “Not a single word of what you said even flirted with making sense. In fact, I’m pretty sure everyone here is now officially dumber for having heard it.”

  TJ began to clap, and others joined in.

  “As a game show host, you suck balls,” Dawn said with divine righteousness in her tone. “May Nerus have mercy on your wretched soul because when the time comes, I sure won’t.”

  The Lich leaned closer, his hollow eyes dominating the screen. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Please! I’m a Paladin…I don’t make threats.” She waved him off, her confident smile turning into something more sinister. “I make promises. Promises I always keep.”

  The Lich pulled back, his eyes burning with hatred as he waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t waste your time listening to the rantings of a hysterical woman. Ascender ###, you should lie down—your mind is playing tricks on you after that last respawn. Probably a time-sucking blood parasite got you killed out there on floor two.”

  “I’m upset, not hysterical.” Dawn’s fists clenched. “I know exactly what happened to me and Brian. What happened out there. My friend Brian is in trouble, and you’re playing catch-up to a masked clown.” She stormed over to the nearest screen and smashed it with her fist, the glass cracking outward.

  Penalty: Five years.

  She shook her hand, wincing but satisfied. “That was worth it.”

  “I don’t have time for this nonsense—I’m too busy. Accept your friend’s fate and move on,” the Lich snapped, his voice taking on a whiny edge.

  “Now who’s being hysterical?” TJ muttered, shaking his head.

  Joe nodded, his mind racing through reasons the Lich hadn’t stopped the time hacker’s broadcast sooner. He might have access to everything, but maybe not to our thoughts all the time. And what about his phylactery? Does the Lich need downtime? Is that why he never appears in person, only on screen?

  Dawn’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I’m not moving on until I take on Brian’s time debt. It should be allowed—what happened to him wasn’t part of your game. If it was, it wouldn’t have been an illegal broadcast, now would it?”

  “That matters little.” The Lich sneered. “You’re too late. The system says once you’re GORED, you can’t do any transactions in time currency. You’re locked into a countdown timer, and once it’s triggered, your user interface is gone.”

  The blue flame in Joe’s chest flared hotter, a mix of anger and admiration fueling its presence. “Is it just me, or does the Lich want her out of the picture because he can’t undermine her? She sure knows how to speak her mind. I’m actually impressed.”

  Joe arched his brow. It took you long enough to notice.Thought you were smart enough to read people quicker than this. So, are you buttering me up, or do you really mean it?

  The blue flame laughed. “I mean it. I might be vague at times, but I never lie. The Lich definitely wants her gone—in case you missed it, despite those high intelligence stats of yours. And let’s be real, you’re still pretty weak. You’ll be down another party member if you’re not careful.”

  Joe shivered at the thought, a chill racing through him. More and more, it was becoming clear that the game was at the mercy of the Lich’s whims. The thought of what he might do to get rid of Dawn gnawed at him. But when Joe looked at her, even after everything she’d just been through, she was still standing tall, defiance blazing in her eyes as she stared down the Lich. That ignited something fierce in Joe—hope, and a determination to stand by her.

  “Thanks for the heads-up but Dawn can handle herself and won the favor of a god,” Joe whispered to the flame. “I’ve got her back if she ever needs it.”

  ***

  Joe leaned back in the booth, rolling his shoulder to ease his tired muscles. The day had been rough, and it was starting to show.

  Across from him, Rose paused her chat with Dawn and tapped the tin of healing pellets on the table. “If you’ve got a shoulder injury, take another one of Brian’s healing pellets.”

  “It’s not injured, just sore after using my butterfly knives…” Joe trailed off, not really wanting to finish that sentence, but everyone knew what he meant.

  TJ, who had been keeping an intimidating eye on any ascenders who looked like they might bother them, shifted his focus to Joe. “Yeah, those blades aren’t meant to go all stabby-stabby on a scaled hide as thick as Scaldera’s. Even I found it tough with BK. Hope you got some skill level-ups after that, like I did.”

  Joe winced as he eased his shoulder again.

  “Don’t be a hero, Joe. Take a damn pellet,” Dawn chimed in, her voice firm. Brian can always…” She hesitated, her voice wavering.

  Rose jumped in, adding strength to Dawn’s sentiment. “Exactly, Dawn. We’ll have Brian back with us in no time, well before we run out of these pellets. I’m sure Grizzle can’t wait to get working with them in the crafting and alchemy room.”

  Joe glanced over as Ryan approached, having finished shooing away a busybody ascender with his signature friendly smile.

  “That’s the last of them,” Ryan said, leaning against the booth. “The rest are losing interest in gossiping now. I used my Confession skill to get them thinking about their life choices, avoiding past mistakes and future guilt. Hopefully, it’ll keep them from wasting more time on floor two.”

  Joe had noticed before that Ryan’s conversations with some ascenders seemed oddly private—his Confession skill must’ve created a sound-suppressing bubble, like the ones he’d seen in a church confessional.

  “Thanks, bro. You’ve got more patience than a saint.” Joe nodded his appreciation.

  TJ scowled. “I couldn’t handle those nosy, mouth-breathing idiots pretending they care about us, coming at us with more questions than an Elvish Inquisition.”

  Dawn flexed her hand, popping open the tin of healing pellets and taking one. “Yeah, I agree with TJ. You’re a saint, Ryan. There’d be more casualties on this floor if that walking tabloid over there came near me. I bet the rising mana levels will give them another reason to get the hell off this floor, especially the ones with lower MP.”

  Ryan rubbed his brow, a hint of a strain showing on his face. “That might explain the headache. And you guys are too kind. I chose the priest class because it fits well with my last life, but I promise you, I’m no saint. Last time I checked, saints don’t go around killing things with guns.”

  Joe chuckled, thinking of one of his favorite graphic novel characters, Saint of Killers.

  TJ grinned, clearly on the same wavelength. “The bar for sainthood in my world was set pretty low. Back home, you got sainthood if you survived a week without stabbing someone in the back.”

  Ryan laughed, choosing to take that as a compliment. “Thanks, I think? Anyway, I’d better get back. Gaia’s text-yelling in all caps in our party chat that Luna and Grizzle are doing something ridiculous again, and she’s threatening to tear a hole in the fabric of reality if I don’t return right now.”

  Joe stood and shook Ryan’s hand. “Really appreciate you fielding all those questions, so we had some time to process what happened. See you soon—are you heading up to floor three?”

  “We’ll hang on for a little while, at least until the mana rises. I don’t want the weakest of my group getting mana poisoning. I’ll send updates through the alliance chat.”

  The earlier buzz and excitement had faded as more ascenders exited toward the floor three elevator. Joe noticed Dawn staring towards the entryway back onto floor two. He moved around the booth, and Rose slipped past him, standing up.

  “I warmed a seat for you,” she said, glancing at Dawn before smiling at Joe and giving him a subtle wink. Joe’scheeks warmed, but he was grateful Dawn didn’t seem to notice.

  “Anyone hungry?” Rose asked.

  Swift as a hunting snake, TJ shot up and joined her. “I am. I’ll give you a hand. Let’s give the food and drink machine one more workout before we see what sweet upgrades it has on the next floor.”

  Dawn barely registered them leaving or Joe sitting down next to her.

  “You okay, Dawn?” he asked, trying to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

  “Huh? What did you say?” Dawn looked at him with a tired smile. He could tell it wasn’t physical—it was more about the hurt inside.

  “Just checking in to see if everything’s okay… I mean, I know it’s not okay, but if you want to talk… We’re going to get Brian back before… You know.”

  Gods, I suck at this.

  It must’ve shown on his face because Dawn patted his hand, the warmth of her touch stopping his rambling. “I know.” They stared at each other, the background noise fading as if they were in their own chapel of confession. “I know you’re worrying, but please don’t. I knew what I was doing when I gave the lich a tongue-lashing earlier.”

  Trying to recover, Joe grinned. “I wasn’t worried—I was impressed.”

  “If you say so.” Dawn forced an empty smile, her tone flat. “I got a tip-off from Nerus that I’m a liability. I know the lich has it in for me, but he’s going to play nice.”

  Joe’s gaze darted around, knowing the lich could be listening. Maybe that was Dawn’s point—she wanted him to hear. He took a breath, waiting for her to continue, as the others returned with a tray full of food and drink.

  “Eat up, you’re at your auntie’s.” TJ sat down the tray in front of them and smiled at Rose's confused expression. “Saying from my world.”

  “I see, seems like you came from a big family, and social eating and drinking was a big part of it.” Rose slid into the booth seat, setting down a few napkins.

  TJ stuffed what looked like cooked chicken claws into his mouth, his words garbled by his eagerness to talk and eat at the same time. “You have no idea—once you survive being a hatchling and not getting eaten by your siblings, they pull out all the stops with family festivals. Great way to keep the clans fed and happy.”

  “What did we miss?” Rose asked, curious, while lazily swirling the contents of her drink with a silver spoon.

  Dawn played with the food in front of her but didn’t eat. “I was telling Joe how my pal Nerus had a little heart-to-heart with the Lich Master. Seems like rodents are very good at finding things. They have a nose for sniffing out phylacteries, which is…”

  TJ dropped the chicken claw back into his bowl. “Where is it? Did he tell you?”

  Dawn gave his bowl a questioning look, her lip downturned as he sucked juices from his fingers. She handed him a napkin. “Here, before you soil your hoodie.”

  With surprising politeness, TJ took the napkin and blotted his mouth, scowling as his fingers stuck to the napkin. “Go on,” he said, flinging his hand trying to shake it free.

  “Nerus claims he knows where the lich’s phylactery is, but he has certain boundaries he’s not willing to cross. The nature of our current oath means he can’t share the location, but he assured me it’s not simply a rumor—it definitely exists.”

  TJ narrowed his eyes, finally rid of the paper napkin thanks to Rose pouring water into a bowl so he could cleanse his hands. “So, you’re a bit vague on how Nerus found it. Dish the dirt.”

  “There’s no dirt. He’s the god of rodents, and they get around in more ways than one.” Dawn smirked. “Glad he’s on our side, or it would be game over for me.”

  “Couldn’t agree more, and he seems like a nice guy.” Joe tugged a cord of his hoodie. He hadn’t had many real-life experiences with gods, but from the novels he’d read, many of them were assholes or high-strung like Gaia. Dawn’s choice to become a Paladin seemed to be a power trade off—gain the power of a decent god, but place a target on your back for the one who thinks he’s a god.

  “My old man used to say it’s a tough gig being a god.” TJ said. “All those worshippers making requests, fickle belief, towers of worship to defend, and immortality? He said it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Short lives can be a blessing—candles that burn half as long burn twice as bright.”

  “Let’s not make our lives any shorter.” Dawn pushed her food away. “Those hollows are going to be a recurring threat, and with the Time Hacker adding his own flavor of anarchy, like he’s giving power back to the people, we need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do before we reach the next floor while also figuring out how to save Brian.”

  Joe dropped the cord and straightened his posture, mood brightening with hope. “I know exactly who we need to talk to.”