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390. Warehouse
🕑 Added 2025-05-12 14:00:09 +0000 UTCIt wasn’t a long run from the palace to the warehouse, as if Brightbriar were mocking them, or perhaps showing off how little he cared for the king’s efforts to slow or mitigate his puppet-building in any way. Ike saw a window high on the green-roofed warehouse’s wall, and glanced at Wisp, who had resumed spider form for superior aerodynamics mid-run. “Fire a thread for me?”
“You got it, boss.” White thread flew from his shoulder, and Ike jumped. Wisp gripped him and her thread at once, and the two of them swung toward the window. Glass shattered, and Ike smashed onto a very ordinary looking mage’s desk.
The man yelped and jumped to his feet, stumbling back. “What—what—”
“Hey, friend,” Ike said, rounding on him with a smile. “We’re your friendly neighborhood murderbuddies, and we’re here to kill a puppetmaker. Know anyone who fits that description?”
“Ooh, am I a murderbuddy?” Wisp asked, excited.
The man’s eyes locked onto Wisp. “That’s—that’s… that spider, it’s Tier 4? How long have you raised it as a pet?”
“Pet?” Wisp asked, a dangerous note in her voice.
Ike sighed. “Alright, well, now that you’ve gone ahead and signed your own death warrant, how about you tell me where to find Brightbriar before the very hungry Tier 4 spider eats you?”
“Brightbriar? I’m just a crafter, I work on drafts and iterate the hyperrealistic eyes—” He paused. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to say ‘or the hungry spider eats me?’”
“That’s inevitable, but thanks for the help. In your next life, try working for someone who isn’t a psychopath bent on world domination, oh, and maybe don’t assume that all beasts are pets.” Ike turned away. A small black smudge leaped off his shoulder, and there was a shriek, horrific crunching, and nasty wet smacking noises before Wisp landed back on his shoulder with a satiated sigh.
Ike glanced at her. “Tier 4?”
“Yeah? You aren’t the only one levelling up out here,” Wisp said.
“I, uh, System’s kinda broken, you know. I wouldn’t know even if I did level up.”
“Oh, neat.”
“Neat?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. Sounds more interesting than a bunch of boring numbers.”
Ike snorted. “Some people really love numbers, you know.”
“Yeah, but I’m a dumb spider who didn’t go to school. I like when the numbers look pretty, like when they’re all the one that’s round on top and curly on the bottom.”
“Nine?” Ike asked.
“I dunno, maybe? Aside from that, it doesn’t mean much to me.”
Ike paused, looking at Wisp as a thought came to him. “You have a System, but you don’t understand what it means?”
“Nah? You know I can’t read.”
“It’s not, like, automatically translated into something you can understand?”
“Who’s doing that? Which god is in charge of System auto-translation?” Wisp returned.
Ike opened his mouth, then shut it. “Huh. You know, I never thought about how beasts would understand the System. Are all beasts… like you?”
“Unless they can read,” Wisp returned.
“I can read,” Mag offered, then looked down at Wisp and added, “Illiterate loser.”
Wisp lunged at Mag. “Get over here, you stupid fluffy bird boy. I eat birds for breakfast. There’s a kind of spider that lives on eating birds, you know?”
Ike held her back with a hand on his shoulder, though he knew full well something that pitiful wouldn’t stop her if she really wanted to attack. “Come on, come on. We’ve got a warehouse full of puppetbuilders and puppets to take down. No point wasting our energy fighting one another.”
Scar hopped in the window and looked around. “There’s supposed to be a man in this room. We were pretty sure he was human. By the name of Hone, maybe? Anyone see what happened to him?”
Ike and Wisp glanced at one another. At last, Ike shrugged. “Lunch break?”
“He’s a mage, he doesn’t need lunch. Oh well. We’ll probably run into him somewhere else. Come on, let’s keep moving. This is just the overground part. If our efforts are correct, there’s a big area underground where the real operation takes place,” Scar said.
“You sure know a lot about this place.”
“We spent years studying it. We only lacked the manpower and mage strength to overthrow it. But now that you’re here, well, why not?”
“That is a surprising take for an organization as secretive as yours,” Ike said.
Scar threw her hands up. “I’ll be honest? I’m pretty sure ‘Those Who Oppose Llewyn’ are not down with this plan, but from what I know of you guys, if I don’t point you where I want you to go, you’ll go somewhere else and tear things up anyways, so I might as well point you at the most valuable spots I’m aware of.”
Ike nodded. “Wise words.”
“Come on. Time’s a-wasting. Let’s go find more people to eat!” Wisp cheered.
“We’ve really gotta work on that people-eating habit of yours,” Ike admonished her.
“Oh, I’m working on it, alright. Every time I eat someone, I’m working on it.”
“That’s… not…” Ike shook his head and stepped out of the little office, taking a moment to look around and familiarize himself with the layout around them. A narrow hallway, with small rooms opening up on either side of it, and a stairway directly down to the main floor. A few other artisans peeked out from the rooms, but quickly ducked back inside at the sight of Ike and the others.
Ike clapped. “Everyone who knows they work for a psychopathic puppetmaster, get down on the main floor. We have a few questions for you. Everyone who doesn’t know, get out now, but fair warning, the last guy to lie to us got eaten by a very hungry spider who’s lurking right outside!”
One or two of the artisans came out of their offices, their hands up. There was the sound of crashing glass as another few jumped out of their windows and fled across the city. Another few hunkered in their offices, hoping to hide from their advance.
“Can I eat them?” Wisp asked, staring after the escapees.
“Could I stop you?” Ike asked.
“Hehe, no.” Wisp vanished in a blur of spider-thread, and in short order, a few horrified screams sounded out.
“I’m not kidding! The spider will eat you! But if you tell us everything you know about Brightbriar, you can walk free!” Ike shouted.
One of the artisans lunged from the office beside him, trying to sneak attack Ike. Ike snorted as they rushed him, their body moving in slow motion to his eyes. They were an artisan, and he was a fighter. It wasn’t a matchup from the start. He sidestepped their clumsy sword strike and snapped his hand out, catching the artisan by the throat. He squeezed, there was a crunch, and the artisan went limp and hit the floor.
“Right, well, if anyone else is feeling brave and loyal to the asshat that was going to off you all one by one and process your innards into puppets, come out now, I’m bored and I’m in no mood for bullshit,” Ike called.
“I’m bored and hungry!” Wisp added, swinging back in through the window in human form. She looked around, taking in the freshly dead artisan, and raised her brows. “What’re we talking about?”
“We’re all bored, so let’s all go hang out downstairs!” Ike said, and gestured the remaining, greatly more malleable artisans down onto the factory floor.
Scar put her face in her hands, then took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. “We’re getting it done. That’s all that matters. We’re getting it done.”
