I awaken far earlier and less rested than would be ideal for today. Mostly because there’s been so damn much on my mind since yesterday morning. The federal government has been overthrown in the span of a single night. And sure, in the abstract, it’s a whole bunch of assholes and self-dealing and, well, to use the phrase, a wretched hive of scum and villainy, and I don’t feel bad for the politicians, the lobbyists, and all the power brokers who wheeled and dealed… dealt? I’m not sure.
However, as Chloe has been very quick to point out, even assholes aren’t assholes about everything, all of the time. And in either case, they’re still people. Probably. People with lives of their own and families, friends, and so on. Not sure how so many of the sleaziest people in the world still manage to find partners and raise families, but… come to think of it, one rarely does ever see a politician without a ‘traditional’ nuclear family waiting in the wings. At least, one to play the part on TV.
In short, though, I’m frustrated because it means more work for me to do. Time I could be spending sleeping, cuddling with Chloe, teaching my classes, studying Ethertech, or hell, even waiting in silence for the heat death of the universe to come claim me. All of which sound way more enjoyable than cleaning up this mess. But, I suppose part of growing up is learning to take responsibility, and I suppose it is my responsibility as one of the few who actually can deal with this shit.
“You almost ready to go?” Chloe asks me.
She’s already suited up, weapon at her side, and looking absolutely beautiful. I, meanwhile, do need a bit longer to get in my armor and make sure we have everything we’ll need. Our accessories are on and equipped, our diamond brooches of [Last Resort] are affixed to our clothing— mine underneath my armor, though it is a bit abrasive. A lot better than dying.
“Just about,” I say, strapping my breastplate on and checking to make sure the fit is snug and secure, without being so tight that it’ll suffocate me or restrict my movements in the midst of battle.
One of the nice things about Ethertech gear is that it has some natural ability to adjust sizing to fit different people’s body types in relative comfort. But that auto-adjustment isn’t perfect, nor does it account for things like slippage or sweat.
We quickly whip up a breakfast of bagels and cream cheese, stash a couple more bottles of water and pieces of fresh and dried fruit into our respective [Inventory], and then are out the door after quarter ‘til seven in the morning. It’s the hottest part of the year, and I’m not convinced that it ever dipped below eighty degrees last night. Throw in that good ol’ moisture percolating northward from the gulf, and you have a recipe for ugliness at all hours.
Thankfully, we only need a few minutes out in the unpleasant swampy morass before we’re touching on the ground downtown. It’s now five to seven, and Nicholas is standing at full attention, a suit of shining silver full plate from neck to toe glistening in the light of the dawn.
“You’re late,” he says.
“Pretty sure we’re five minutes early,” I say.
“I thought you already learned by now that ten minutes early is on time, and on time is late.”
“Yes, but we’re civilians again, as you said so yourself,” I cross my arms to show my modest displeasure at his choice of greeting. Not a good first impression for our working together. Then again, knowing Nicholas, it could all be part of any number of schemes for his benefit.
“As you say. Now then, I understand that you have access to all of the checkpoints in the Tower?”
“Unless there’s one on the fourty-ninth floor before the final boss,” I say. “I wouldn’t be surprised either way. Then again, I’m not convinced that the floors are the same every time we go up. Us going there with you might lead to a different set of floors than if we were to go up there with, say, Alana and Jasmine.”
“Interesting. So it might be possible to double up on treasure by completing the same numbered floor multiple times with different party configurations.”
“Assuming the System doesn’t have some sort of anti-cheat built into it,” I say. “Not to mention the Tower Warden is still around and not to be messed with.”
“Indeed. A troublesome pest that thing is. Even as you two are, I can’t fathom a scenario in which you would emerge triumphant. Still, the possibility of gaining additional supernatural treasures exists, and I will have to explore these options at a later time.”
Without spending any more time in small-talk, Nicholas, and Chloe and I, not exactly being on the most friendly of terms, we head inside. No fanfare awaits Chloe and me specifically, but the soldier on duty in the lobby immediately stands up and salutes at full attention the moment he sees Nicholas, recognizing his unit’s executive officer despite not being in military regalia.
“At ease, soldier,” Nicholas responds after returning the salute. “Ms. Mortensen and Ms. Jacobs will be escorting me to the top levels of the Tower. Should all go according to plans, we should have confirmation of a successful clear of the dungeon by twenty-three fifty-nine tomorrow evening.”
“Yes, Major Richardson, Sir. I and everyone look forward to your success, Sir.”
“Colonel Wilson and remnants of central command have been notified of my excursion. Should we not return by oh-six hundred Friday morning, the eighteenth, the soldiers on duty are to inform local command as to my probable death. Should this occur and Colonel Wilson is killed in action or otherwise unfit to serve as high commander, it is my will that First Lieutenant Alana Morris be given an immediate wartime promotion to the rank of Captain and assume command of the local forces stationed here until further notice. Here is the relevant contingency paperwork; duplicate copies are stored in my office and on my person.”
He pulls an envelope out from his [Inventory], stunning me and the sergeant on duty, albeit in different ways. I had no idea he’d been doing enough fighting on the frontlines to gain that kind of Experience. Then again, he’s been the second-in-command of an entire brigade, and the colonel nominally in charge might not be as involved with actual fighting as he is. This, coupled with getting some spillover Experience thanks to his development and likely operation of the [Ether Cannon], and I can see how he managed to reach Level 50. Or maybe his logistics- and analysis-focused class gives him access to his [Inventory] at a lower level.
“Yes, Major Richardson, Sir!”
Nicholas nods slightly before turning around with full military poise, making his way into the transporter. Chloe and I follow, and after a bit of finagling through the System prompts that follow, we’re up to a nondescript teleporter room on the fortieth floor, and from then, up to the forty-first.
“A tower… How quaint,” Nicholas says. “I believe I had encountered something similar for my seventh floor, although that one was quite a bit smaller.”
“We did as well,” Chloe says. “We ended up simply flying up to the top of the tower, bypassing most of the dungeon.”
“Efficient. As for whether it was effective, that remains to be seen.” Nicholas says. “Do you want to spend more time on a lower floor, finding all of the treasure that might expedite your climb higher, or is it better to prioritize getting to the higher floors more quickly, where one will find more powerful and versatile equipment, as well as monsters which provide a larger amount of Experience… Now that I think about it, thanks to the way Experience scaling works, it may well be possible to slingshot
a person through a large number of levels in relatively short order.”“What do you mean by ‘slingshot’?” Chloe asks.
“Consider a battle between two fighters, each level 60. The winner of the fight, by my calculations, should be able to gain around 350,000 Experience, give or take. If the winner of the fight is level 58, they should gain closer to 550,000 Experience, to reward them for fighting someone who was stronger than they were. At level 56, that amount would be around 800,000, and so forth. Hypothetically, assuming it were possible— extreme good luck, preparation, or whatever else— could someone at level, say, 40, gain five million Experience, thus reaching close to Level 64 in a single bound, slingshotting past the hypothetical fighter who entered that fight at Level 60 instead?”
“There would be no chance–” I start.
“Humor me. Assuming it were possible, do you agree with my reasoning so far?”
“Yes.” It hits me half a second later exactly what he’s implying, and why he’s so adamant about coming up to the top of the Tower with the two of us.
“I see from the look you’re getting that you understand exactly where I’m going with this.”
“What’s that?” Chloe asks.
“Give someone low-level a bunch of top-quality equipment and put them on the front lines to do battle with high-level enemies. Yes, the defensive and offensive capabilities of the gear will reduce the Experience gain due to the added safety, but the idea is that the massive level gap will override all other considerations, allowing him to train up an elite team of high-level fighters, and quickly. It’s quite genius how he plans to build up an elite detachment of soldiers from the ground up like this, assuming they don’t get killed in the process.”
“But–”
“If I can come up with this idea, Ms. Jacobs, I have to assume that I am not the only one who can. How do you think that so-called ‘American’–” his words are laced with particular vitriol as he says the demonym– “Legion managed to get enough soldiers to a high enough level to overwhelm our nation’s capital in a single night? They took risks, they buckled down, and they took full advantage of every loophole and gimmick they could come up with to amass power as quickly as possible.
“I am intelligent, not to toot my own horn too much, well-trained in military strategy, and have multiple Skills that provide strategic analysis and information processing enhancement. I dare not assume, even for a moment, that our enemies are foolish, or that they can’t independently discover every tactic I can, and before I do so. Doctrines must continually adapt to changing environs if we are to maintain our continued society and civilization. Two days ago, we all witnessed firsthand what happens when we allow ourselves to flounder.”
Nicholas glares at something to his right. I activate [Archangel’s Gaze] and look as well, but see nothing. Chloe turns to the side, shrugs her shoulders, then looks back at the massive edifice before us.
It’s easily the height of Earth’s tallest manmade structures. Possibly as large as the Tower Gauntlet itself from the perspective of the outside world, although it seems a little smaller to my eyes. The main entrance is just as grand, a pair of ornate double doors that lead into the gigantic structure. Though, not unexpectedly, the main entrance is barricaded shut.
I draw Filia out of my [Inventory]— an action which doesn’t faze the major in the slightest— and prepare to strike at the massive stone doorway, readying my [Elemental Ether Strike], only to be stopped just before I launch my attack.
“Not so fast, Ms. Mortensen,” Nicholas says. “I believe we should check for a back entrance first. For all we know, this is a trap. There could be a sleeping dragon just on the other side of the door, or the explosion could damage the structural integrity of the tower and harm us in the long run. Beyond that, however, I’d like to look into trying to figure out what the intended path forward is; that is likely to lead to more treasure than barging forward and skipping ahead right when we most need to be.
“Ms. Mortensen, I understand you have a powerful sensory Skill. Please, let us circumnavigate the perimeter of the structure, and while we do, I want you to keep an eye out for anything that might be suspicious. A plant out of place, the markings of a trapdoor leading into some sort of basement or foundation, a secret entrance inside this dungeon. I’d rather be thorough than quick about it, so please, take your time, rest if you need, and let’s make sure we don’t miss anything that might be to our later benefit.”