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Book 2: Chapter 69
🕑 Added 2025-12-06 07:49:04 +0000 UTCBefore entering the hotel, Luke made sure every speck of radiation in his body was taken care of. The front of the building was inviting, with large windows at the bottom and pillars rising along the front wall, pink and white lights shining from below to provide an ambiance.
Cars drove by behind him, and judging by the number of people out, it had to be quite late. Remembering he'd stashed his phone in his inventory before entering the dungeon, Luke brought it out. 2 AM. No wonder he was so tired. He longed for bed. Also, he'd survived a nuke an hour earlier. That might have something to do with it, too.
Having had the foresight to bring spare clothes in his inventory, Luke had changed on top of that building while he exchanged messages with Johanson. Entering a hotel wearing a robe that made you look like the Grim Reaper wasn't a great idea if you didn't want to be memorable. The reception desk was unmanned for the moment, and Luke took advantage, slipping past it and up the stairs. A few guests were up and about, but most of them looked drunk or tired out of their minds, and no one even glanced in his direction, even in the hallway on the third floor.
It was quiet. Empty.
Room 311. Here it was. The locked door was no barrier to him, and the door slid open on silent hinges. As expected, the lights were off inside, but something farther into the room, beyond the hallway, shone. The window was open. Closing the door behind him, Luke drew in a deep breath and walked deeper, his feet silent on the carpeted floor. It didn't take long to find what emitted that light. Fire. Of course, it was fire.
The bed had been moved aside to make room for what looked like a thin sheet of metal. A figure lay on top of it, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them as he whimpered in his sleep. Fire engulfed Leslie's body, licking at his wounds to keep the man from death's door. Through the flames, Luke saw disfigured flesh, burned with radiation. The Solarian's face was not restored, not fully, and it bulged inward from Luke's final attack. It made sense that Leslie had some sort of self-heal spell, and he'd suspected as much ever since he'd returned from having his throat slit, scorch marks along the wound's edges.
Here he was. The murderer. Low on health, low on mana. If Luke left him there on the floor, it would take a long while for him to recover, if coming back from this was even possible. Luke could heal him, of course, restore him to health, and hand him over to the police, or even the DIA. But no, that wasn't why he'd followed the tugging from Weaver's Perception to this room. As long as this man lived, he'd be a threat to Dot, Luke's family, and every other Integrated who crossed his path. That was a gamble Luke could not stomach.
Standing over him, Luke brought out the Tempered Staff, but then thought better of it. The flame barrier wasn't active. That, he supposed, would be a drain on the mana needed for the all too weak healing happening within those flames.
Instead, he reached in and came away holding, for the first time, a meta-heart. The light within was weak. Little mana coursed through it at this point. It took the appearance of a physical heart, except it glowed a little. Pretty, almost.
Luke waited until the body dissolved into motes of light before he got up to stand.
He felt empty. Drained.
A little later, he rang a doorbell and waited. With Weaver's Perception reined in, the sound of rustling within the apartment was all that told him someone was coming to the door. After removing a chain and unlocking two separate locks, Dot opened the door, squinting against the light. Her red hair stood tousled in all directions, and she had a bathrobe on.
"Luke?"
"Hey, Dot," Luke said. He took a deep breath, doing his best to keep his voice from wavering. "I'm sorry, but-"
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace, pressing the side of her face against his chest. "What happened?"
"I-"
"Wait," she murmured, releasing him and taking his hand. "Come in first."
The next morning, just a few hours later, Luke left the apartment and turned to face Dot, who stood in the doorway. Even at that late hour, they'd stayed up to talk for a long while, talking, and she'd let Luke get it all out. Little by little, he'd explained, only leaving out minor details. Dot knew now that Leslie had been in Chicago but that he would not be able to hurt her again. After that, with his eyes closing on their own, she'd brought him to bed, and Luke had fallen asleep in her arms. Even with all that, the morning hadn't been awkward.
Dot smiled up at him, still half-asleep. "You sure you have to leave so early?"
"The DIA is waiting, sorry."
"Just thought we could have breakfast," she said, stifling a yawn.
Luke swallowed hard, gathering more courage than he'd needed to fight Naxaramus. "Dinner?"
That made her open her eyes and give him a radiant smile, her eyes glittering with mischief. "Mr. Quinn, are you asking me out on a date?"
Rather than answer, he stepped forward and put his hand on the back of her neck, leaning in. The kiss was brief but sweet, and the flush in her cheeks when he pulled back sent the butterflies in his stomach into an uproar.
"A date," he said, clearing his throat.
She blinked several times and gave a short nod, a new smile spreading across her lips as she brought up her hand to her lips. When she spoke, her voice shook a little. "A date."
Walking down the street, Luke's shoulders didn't feel quite so weighed down anymore, despite the less pleasant meeting that was next on the agenda for the day. Before that, though, he needed to head home, shower, and get a change of clothes. Also, Smudge. What that little creature had been up to, Luke didn't know, but the interface kept sending reminders to feed his pet.
Luke stopped dead in the street. Someone walked into him, cursed, and walked around him with some choice words, but he didn't hear them. Staring at the interface, Luke couldn't believe his eyes. With Hannah's comment about her level gains, he expected to have climbed quite a bit, too, but this? This was just crazy.
"Level 38?" he said, mouth hanging open. It was unbelievable. How? "No way."
Naxaramus wouldn't account for gaining 17 levels. That just wasn't possible.
"The Archfiend... Archons... Zombies. Holy shit..."
That had to be it. The Skeletal Archons controlled the zombies. Killing that one monster destroyed all the ones under its control. He'd gained experience from that, but hadn't thought much about it. If the Archons controlled the zombies and skeletons, and the Archfiends controlled the Archons.
"The dragons controlled the Archfiends," Luke said, his voice wavering.
His chest tightened with excitement, and he spoke, feeling like he had to hear the words out loud to believe them. "Naxaramus was above them all. Killing it killed every monster under it."
Luke had gained experience for killing every single monster in the undead horde, including Naxaramus and all its dragon spawn. In awe, he went over the status screen.
Name: Luke Quinn
Class: Lifeweaver
Level: 37
Guild: Integrated Solutions Group
Profession: Enchanter (Level 1)
Credits: 13.963
Attributes (95 points not allocated)
Strength: 20
Agility: 15
Endurance: 15
Vitality: 20
Intelligence: 23
Wisdom: 38
Willpower: 27
Focus: 24
Skills (19 points not allocated)
Needle of Life (Rank 2) [Active - Mana Cost: ?]: Use a precise touch to assert your will upon the weave.
Threads of Mana (Rank 3) [Passive]: Mana is the weaver's primary tool. Your threads shape the weave.
The Healer's Moment [Active. Mana Cost: Moderate]: A mere moment can cut through the chasm between life and death.
Weaver's Grasp [Passive]: The Weaver's control extends beyond their touch.
Weaver’s Mercy [Active - Mana Cost: Moderate]: On the brink of death, lend the weave one final stitch.
Weaver’s Renewal [Active - Mana Cost: High]: The body forgets. The weave does not.
The Healer's Staff [Active. Mana Cost: Low]: Turn your weapon indestructible for a brief moment.
Weavestep [Active - Mana Cost: Moderate]: Pass a short distance through the weave.
Weaver's Perception [Passive]: Your understanding of the weave has reached a higher concordance, allowing glimpses of the threads that create, destroy, and bind all things.
Weaver’s Rupture [Active - Mana Cost: Moderate]: Shatter a Thread of Mana into a pulse of force.
Items:
Linked Bracelet of Night Sight: The wearer of this item can see in the dark.
Tempered Quarterstaff.
Unwavering Robe of The Fiend: Your presence is obscured from all but the most perceptive. This garment instills fear in the undead.
Mutable Blade of The Lilineese: This weapon takes whatever shape the user wills. Imbued with the strength of the Lilineese.
Comments
BerciTheBeast
"Level 38?" he said, mouth hanging open. It was unbelievable. How? "No way." a few lines later Level: 37
