Chapter 23

Chapter 23 - Mile-High

Mile-High Club

Eliza

Eliza emerged from the waypoint in a flash of multicolored energy.

Only moments ago, she’d been in Pax. Yet now she found herself in the Mile-High Club. Standing on a colossal stone platform with hundreds of other travelers – most of them looking as disoriented as she felt. More than a few were stooped over, breathing hard and trying not to vomit.

The human mind definitely wasn’t designed to teleport…

System Notice:  Waypoint Debuff

You have recently teleported and are suffering from teleportation sickness.

Teleportation temporarily disabled.

Brian was missing, left behind in Pax despite his silent protests. This place was far too dangerous for residents, where death was permanent.  So, he wasn’t there to stabilize her as Eliza weaved unsteadily.

However, Finn caught her.  “Thanks,” she muttered.

“No problem,” Finn grunted, his molten eyes taking in their surroundings.

She soon shrugged off his help and swallowed against the acidic bite of bile in the back of her throat as she surveyed the platform underfoot.  This was one of new waypoints. An entire gate piece encased in a mixture of heavily warded stone and metal, it was capable of transporting a few hundred travelers at once. Yet another of Finn’s inventions. One that connected Pax with the Mile-High Club, a constant stream of travelers traveling between the two cities.

“I really hoped to never see this fucking place again,” Finn grumbled at her side.

Eliza didn’t blame him. The last time they were here, they’d been kidnapped and forced into <Death and Taxes’> twisted playground. Through a labyrinth of sadistic death matches as their battles were broadcast worldwide. An adventure that had ultimately forced Eliza’s hand – forced her to inject herself with the solution that had unlocked her Mold Form.

She could still remember the mold eating its way through her body, devouring her from the inside out—with a shudder, her mana surged, the flakes of mold drifting away from her hands stabilizing.  She forced herself to breathe.

She was different now.  Stronger.

She just needed to remember that.

Yet caution was still a virtue. Wind whipped across the platform and Eliza tugged at her hood to hide her features, pulling her cloak closed to hide her many bags and pouches. Even Finn had disabled his flaming crown and was keeping his face obscured. They had taken a page from Jason’s book. It was long past time for them to travel incognito – even their player tags hidden.

However, as her debuff faded and her eyes lifted, Eliza’s lips parted in surprise…

“Is this really the same place?” she murmured in awe.

The club had transformed. It was bigger. Louder. A temple to bloodsport and greed, rebuilt atop the bones of their suffering—her suffering.

They were standing upon a huge circular platform, one floating far above the clouds, the puffy vapor obscuring the ground below. A series of narrow stone bridges – all of which lacked handrails – were the only connection between their platform and the Mile-High Club. No doubt, a security mechanism to prevent the club from being overrun.

However, she barely recognized it…

The ruined and half-collapsed structures had been repaired. Signs and advertisements littered the sides of buildings like graffiti – no longer dark and dormant – but shining and crackling with mana. A dizzying barrage of advertisements announcing a dozen different death games, many of them variations on the same challenges the avatars had faced. Others showcasing products for sale: weapons, armor, accessories, and consumables. Also a few other more… unsavory services. Moving pictures of scantily-clad men and women. The gambler was apparently an equal opportunity employer because every race was represented.

He’d created a glowing, floating, sparkling temple to hedonism.

“<Death and Taxes> has been busy,” Finn offered quietly.  “I helped them with the initial rebuild, but they’ve made much more progress than I expected. Smiles must have used the—”

“Goblins,” Eliza finished for him with a soft gasp.

Indeed, green skinned creatures waited on the other end of those narrow bridges. After talking with Smiles and hearing the other travelers’ stories, Eliza had expected them to be gnarly, savage creatures. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

These weren’t the feral, scavenging goblins of fairy tales. These creatures had made the market their new battlefield. A goblin’s worth wasn’t measured in strength but by the weight of their wallet—and the ones dripping in gold chains and cufflinks were the real kings of this city.  They wore suits, impeccably tailored and pressed wool. Sparkling cufflinks dangling at their wrists. Heavy gold chains hung from their necks. She even spotted the occasional monocle.

Even more interesting, there appeared to be different species. The wealthiest goblins – those absolutely dripping with wealth – were slender. Barely taller than Eliza herself. Yet others were huge hulking creatures, each at least eight feet tall. Strong enough to rip a traveler apart with their bare hands. The literal muscle for their smaller counterparts.

A point that was driven home as the travelers lined up carefully along those narrow bridges, only empty air lingering on either side. The throng was quickly processed by several of the smaller goblins – each one flanked by a pair burly bodyguards – as they exacted a different “pound of flesh.” Charging them for entry… like-like this was some mad theme park.

The throng pushed Eliza forward, but Finn stopped her.

“No need to join the masses,” Finn whispered as he directed her to another narrow bridge – this one far less occupied.  It even had railings formed of compressed air mana.

“What is a Cloud 9 Fast Pass?” Eliza muttered, eyeing the sign above the kiosk.

Finn just grunted, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched the traveler ahead of them. The man went to pay... only to discover his bag was missing.

“I’m–I’m sorry!” the man muttered, making a show of patting at his waist and pockets.  “I seem to have lost my bag. Someone, uh, must’ve stolen it…”

The slender goblin just eyed him skeptically and tapped the sign beside him with a gold plated cane – the one that announced the club’s motto, “Everything is pay to slay!”

“No pay, then no slay,” the goblin drawled, his bodyguards looming over the traveler.

The man swallowed hard. “I, uh, I can just go back and get some money out of the—”

“Return waypoint is one gold,” the goblin interjected, his eyes gleaming.

“One gold?” the traveler echoed in shock.  “Are you serious?  I just said I don’t have any money.  What do you expect me to do?  How am I supposed to get back to pay you?”

The slender goblin’s lips peeled back into a feral smile, one that showed far too many shark-like teeth.  “There is another way – a cheaper way.”

The man looked nervous, but glanced over his shoulder, noticing the line of travelers behind him – many glaring and impatient and more than a few fondling their weapons. “Yeah, uh, that sounds good. Let’s do that,” he replied quickly.

“Perfect,” the goblin purred as he waved at his bodyguards.

The pair grabbed the poor man. “What – what are you doing?”

“Free return trip,” one of the hulking beasts growled.

They held him there for a second—dangling him over the abyss like a discarded toy. Long enough for the panic to truly set in. Then they let go.

His screams lasted a really long time.

Okay. Maybe Eliza had been wrong before. This place might be a temple, but it worshiped a different God. One that measured a man’s life in gold. A cathedral of capitalism.

“Next!” The goblin chirped happily, snapping allies out of her thoughts.

She shared a look with Finn, and the pair stepped forward.  Finn handed over their own entry fee – five gold for each of them. No wonder Finn had ordered Kyyle and Julia to stay behind in Pax. Not only did they need someone to keep an eye on the city, but apparently using the club services was ungodly expensive.

Finn began to move deeper into the club, but Eliza put a hand on his arm.

“I have a question,” she announced, meeting the goblin’s gaze evenly.

His bodyguards glowered nearby and cracked their massive knuckles – the image of that poor, screaming man still burned into her mind. This wasn’t a great place to start a fight – not with an army of goblins ahead of them and a throng of impatient travelers behind. Already, another group had arrived through the waypoint and were beginning to line up.

An old instinct reared its ugly head—stay quiet, stay unnoticed.

But no. Not anymore.  Eliza forced herself to meet the goblin’s gaze.

“Where can we find Smiles?”

The goblin eyed her curiously. “Nothing is free,” he sneered.

A gold coin appeared in Finn’s hand in a blur of orange.

“How about now?” Finn asked, keeping his voice low.

The goblin was still playing coy.  “That is not—” he began.

Another coin appeared in Finn’s hand as though by magic. Yet the goblin was still hesitating.  So, he added another. And another. And another. With each clink of metal, the goblin’s hesitation faded in the face of his own greed. Apparently, money could buy anything here.

“Fine, but no blame me if you hate the answer,” the creature purred, his eyes flashing with an ominous pulse of amber mana. He waved at his guards and they pushed in, ringing the group and blocking them from view. In a flash of movement, the gold disappeared.

Eliza hadn’t even seen the goblin move. Were they really that fast?

“The Boss is in the arena,” the goblin answered finally.

Finn growled under his breath. “And when he’s not?”

The greenskin’s grin widened. “He never leaves.  If you want to talk to the Boss, you have to fight your way to him,” he explained, his eyes flashing. “Assuming you survive.”

That glowing amber gaze took in Eliza and Finn’s cloaked forms, shining with skepticism – as though already visualizing their gruesome deaths.

“Bullshit—” Finn began.

However, Eliza cut them off. “Which arena?”

The goblin huffed out an amused chuckle.  “Where else?  The main stage.  You cannot miss it.” he answered with a grim smile, pointing deep into the Mile-High Club.  Toward a towering structure that loomed on the far end of the club.

Eliza remembered that place.  How could she forget?

After all, that’s where they’d first fought Smiles...

                    *

“Why are there so many people?” Eliza murmured as the pair navigated the mad, sparkling chaos that was the Mile-High Club. “I thought Cady intended to use the layers here too.”

“That’s by design—” Finn began.

He was cut off as a nearby traveler shot off fireworks directly into the crowd, leaving streamers of flame and crackling electricity in their wake.  Eliza ducked, but that proved pointless. Finn flattened one of his metal orbs into a shield and the missile ricocheted harmlessly.

Well, almost harmlessly.  It actually struck another drunken traveler and sent her toppling over the edge of the club. The woman wasn’t even sober enough to scream.

Seriously, why were there no handrails?

“They planned this chaos?” Eliza echoed.

“Actually, yes,” Finn replied, half shouting to be heard over one of the advertisements blaring nearby. He heaved out a sigh. “The gambler insisted that the club itself shouldn’t be layered – just the individual arenas. That forces the travelers into this common area where they’re herded like cattle through a maze of shops and advertisements.

“In a way, making it to an arena is the first challenge.”

Eliza scrunched her brow. “So, the lack of handrails is… population control?”

“Basically,” Finn grunted back, shoving aside another group of travelers with two panels of flaming metal. They tried to complain, only for two metal spheres to come out of nowhere and send them careening off the side of the club. The rest were smart enough to keep their mouths shut.

“Speaking of which, you want to explain why we had to come back to this shithole?” Finn asked. “Why are you trying to find Smiles? Is this part of your relic’s unlock condition or—”

“No questions, remember?” Eliza interjected, her eyes on that tower in the distance – the spire now looming overhead as they approached. “I won the bet fair and square.”

“She is correct,” Daniel chirped helpfully, earning him a smile from Eliza.

Finn grimaced. “I’m aware. I just hate being kept in the dark.”

It was Eliza’s turn to shoot him a grin. “That’s how you know it’s working. Or do you not want to unlock your own relic?” she retorted.

“I really like her,” Daniel observed.

Finn had a more mixed reaction.

He sent another person careening over the side of the club.

That time, it hadn’t been strictly necessary.

“Besides, aren’t you keeping secrets of your own?” Eliza retorted. “What about Julia? Have you told her about Rachael – about the Caretaker?  The risk you took with her soul fragment?”

“That’s different. I’m… I’m trying to protect her,” Finn replied, hesitating only slightly. “I don’t want to get her hopes up – not before I find a way to repair the Caretaker’s body. Otherwise, she might do something crazy; reckless.”

“That sounds like an excuse,” Eliza retorted, a flash of frigid anger coiling in her gut and a few small motes of mold drifting away from her hands.

She should know. After all, her parents had been lying to her for years. Maybe longer.

“You’ll understand when you’re a parent,” Finn replied evenly. “I may be selfish – focused on my own passions – but sometimes you have to lie to your children. To protect them.”

Eliza hesitated as she saw the pain in his gaze, her anger melting slowly.

Maybe she’d been too quick to judge; maybe her own parents had thought the same—

“Either way, it looks like we’re here,” Finn announced solemnly, interrupting her thoughts.

The pair emerged into a grand courtyard – no longer ruined and crumbled, but rebuilt in glowing splendor and filled to the brim with thousands of travelers. Eliza craned her head upward to take in that oh-so-familiar tower – one covered from base to turret with glowing advertisements for all manner of useless bullshit. A sparkling beacon. And if that wasn’t enough, glowing arrows lined the buildings around them. Dozens.  Hundreds. All pointing at one target.

An arena entrance. One framed in black metal – a familiar spinning structure mounted to the entrance. A smaller version of the Carousel.

Finn had been right. Goblins were working on the structure, shedding their expensive suits and jewelry for plain overalls and rather ordinary-looking wrenches as they worked to repair the machine. They’d even hung a large, bright yellow banner across the front that announced the arena was “Down for Maintenance.”

Which explained the horde travelers waiting just outside.

And hovering above the entrance was a huge glowing sign.

“Death Ball,” it said.

Eliza could only imagine what horrible shit show was waiting inside. Her guess was that the Gambler and <Death & Taxes> had just co-opted another game and modified it juuust enough to avoid a copyright lawsuit. That seemed to be their MO.

And above that sign? A large screen made up of glowing mana. Yet this one wasn’t an advertisement – at least, not a traditional one. Instead, it was a leaderboard, which announced the rankings for this arena:

“Death Ball” Individual Rankings

Major League

Rank Name Score

1 Smiles 1,239,941

2 PewPew 894,243

3 Queen 709,234

4 Smokes 708,138

5 Tombs 694,614

Eliza’s eyes flicked to a smaller leaderboard hovering just below the main one. Unlike the names at the top, this one was filled with hundreds—no, thousands—of names.

“Death Ball” Individual Rankings

Minor League

Rank Name Score

1 TyrantPally 7,124

2 Weeblord69 6,889

3 Axe-to-the-Face 6,302

…

…

…

101,467 Eliza 0

Even more interesting, as Eliza looked on, the Minor League leaderboard updated, her own name appearing at the bottom – along with a depressing rank.

She let out a quiet sigh. “Great. Looks like we’re starting at the bottom.”

Finn was glaring at Smiles’ score. 1,239,941.

“This is going to take a while.”

He didn’t say the quiet part out loud, but Eliza knew what he was thinking.  How much time would this waste? Time he could be using to save Rachael – to figure out a way to unlock his relic – to collect more soul fragments—

She placed a hand on his arm. “If I’m right, this is the perfect way to unlock your relic.  That discomfort your feeling is a good sign.”

Finn just grunted, not entirely convinced.

As they looked on, the leaderboards rotated out with images of each of the members of <Death and Taxes>. Smiles’ image was broadcast along the length of the tower, replete with his hallmark suit, cufflinks, and smiling mask. The rest of his team were soon showcased. Driving home the fact that they were dominating this stadium.

Yet it provided little hint about the arena itself.

Just what kind of game was Death Ball?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the shrieking grind of the Carousel spinning back up to speed. The goblin mechanics must’ve finally fixed it. Specifically, they hauled out the ragged fragments of a disturbingly human body – the arms and legs severed and crushed. A bloody smear slowly rotated across the entrance. The poor player must gotten trapped between the panels.

Not that the crowd cared.  They just let out a deafening cheer as they rushed to reenter arena, pushing and shoving and jostling. It was easy to see why it had been taken down for maintenance – that bloody smear serving as a grim reminder to wait their turn.

“You ready?” Finn asked, side-eyeing Eliza.

“Not even a little,” a small voice in the back of her mind screamed.

Yet she just nodded, mana flooding her body in an attempt to settle the bubbling, frothing anxiety coiling in her gut. The new questions that awaited. Like could she handle this? This wasn’t a bunch of noobs like those that had rushed the Carousel back in Pax. These were veteran players experienced with PVP. And even if she succeeded, was she strong enough to face Smiles and the rest of his guildmates? To force out the answers to her questions?

After all, someone must have hired Smiles to rescue her at Cerillion, hadn’t they?

That was the only explanation that made sense.

However, the pair were already flowing toward that entrance, carried along by a tide of bodies. She soon crossed that threshold, the tingle of mana skimming across her skin.

And just like that, she emerged – her feet touching down on dusty sand and Finn by her side. The arena itself was a coliseum of metal and stone, ringed by seating that stretched upward to dizzying heights. For now, the seats were nearly empty—stragglers idly scrolling through their UI, not even watching the field. This was a Minor League match, after all.

The telltale glimmer of rainbow energy washed across the walls, reminding Eliza of a different time and place. A mana generator that could create a localized respawn field and mutate the rules of their environment.  It was almost the same as she remembered.

Well, except for the prompt floating in front of her, glowing an ominous amber:

Team Registration

The system has identified that you are currently in a group with [Finn Harris] and [Eliza Zhao].

A team has been formed with these two players.  Three open spots remaining.

Please select a team name: ________

“Ugh, what should we—” Finn started.

However, Eliza had already finished typing.

The prompt flickered before a confirmation bell chimed.

Team Registration

Welcome, Team “Fluffy Rules.”

Finn stared at the screen. Then at her. Then back at the screen.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

Eliza smiled. “Completely.”

Before he could protest further, another notification popped up:

Mile High Club – Death Ball

You have entered arena layer #A132495.

Default Minor League arena. Mutators disabled.

Fluffy Rules is currently unranked and you have been matched with players of similar rank or experience.  You may increase your rank by winning matches.

Arena Rules:

·         Players may form teams of up to five members.

·         The last man, woman, or sentient creature standing wins.

·         Direct damage from spells and attacks are disabled.

·         Damage may only be inflicted by using a ball.

“Welcome to most prestigious game of PURE SKILL in the Mile-High Club.  A truly level playing field where getting hit means instant death.

That’s right!  Dodge, duck, dip, dive, or die!” – The Gambler.

“What the hell is this?” Finn muttered, swiping away the prompt.  Other travelers had begun to appear along circular arena, the players divided into teams.

And in the very center of that field?  A dozen plain-looking balls formed from a swirling kaleidoscope of mana, glowing with a subtle amber tinge.

“I think it’s… it’s dodgeball?” Eliza replied slowly.

If that was the case, then maybe they had a chance.

The pair looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. As one, Finn and Eliza shed their cloaks. There was no sense hiding their identities – not anymore.

Finn’s body hummed with orange flame as he summoned his mana, his limbs blurring as he raced through a series of casual stretches. The heat was already beginning to melt the sand at his feet, turning it into a miniature lake of molten glass—evidence of his excitement. A chance to finally burn off some of the frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

In contrast, Eliza didn’t really need to limber up. Her mana just crashed through body in a tidal wave, flecks of mold peeling away from her skin and floating in the air as her body began to dissolve. She had a feeling her Mold Form would be perfect for this game.

The other teams noticed the flare of fire and frost, staring wide-eyed and cursing under their breath as they finally recognized Finn and Eliza—their iconic magic standing out. Alerted by the commotion, a few of the spectators in the stands had woken up, gesturing toward Finn and Eliza and watching with keen interest, even as glowing golden words flickered overhead.

Countdown Timer: 30 Seconds Remaining

A few of their opponents had the sense to try to flee or forfeit—

Only to find themselves trapped—their UI locked down.

There was only one way out now.  But that was okay…

The match wouldn’t last long anyway.

Eliza and Finn would make their death quick.

Match Start!