James A. Hunter
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Backrooms: Delvers and Dwellers - Chapter 15
🕑 Added 2023-07-20 19:48:02 +0000 UTCFifteen – Minor Detour
If MediocreMart wasn’t the Backrooms version of Walgreens, I’d eat a flipflop. Sure, the description didn’t make it sound great, but under the right management it could be a goldmine. I accepted the job posting and turned back toward Croc.
“Found it,” I said. “MediocreMart. It’s in Quadrant 28, Sector 17. The job board lists it as a two-star threat.”
Croc brighten. “Quadrant 28? That’s not bad at all. We’re in an adjacent Quadrant, so getting there should only take a few hours.” Then the mimic’s face sagged. “The two-star rating isn’t quite so good, though. That means whatever is guarding the location is level ten or above. I’m not saying it’s an impossible bounty, but at your current level I am saying there is a ninety-nine percent chance that you’ll die horrifically and at least a twelve percent chance that something will tear your arms off and beat you to death with them.”
“Wait, there’s a twelve percent chance that something is going to tear my arms off and beat me to death with them?” I asked slowly. “That… That can’t be accurate. I mean that is just so, so specific.”
“Well let me think a moment,” Croc replied. “There was Joel then Amber. The Stonebreaker Baboon got Christian before that. Then there was Hosana—I think she fell into one of the limb-ripper snares. Brock and Rebecca had all their limbs ripped off by the Gravity Inversion room, though I guess technically they weren’t beaten with them afterwards. The Coupon Kraken made short work of Ishmael—”
I held a hand up to stop the flow of increasingly gruesome deaths. “Yeah, I think I get the picture. What I’m hearing is that I need to level up before we tackle MediocreMart?”
“That would certainly help, but you’ll also need some better gear and Artifacts, I reckon. That acid attack you have is pretty effective—”
“Bleach bolt,” I corrected without giving it any thought. Bleach was basic and acids were, well acidic.
“Right, Bleach Bolt,” Croc amended, “but your Artifacts are just as important to long term survival. Since you’ve survived this long, I’m assuming you’ve unlocked a few achievements and earned at least a handful of Loot Tokens, am I right?”
I nodded.
“Good, that’ll help. But we’ll need to locate a Loot Arcade to redeem ’em and finding one of those could be tricky without a rudimentary Navigation Relic.” The mimic paused as though considering something. Finally, it bobbed its head. “I reckon it’ll be worth the attempt, though. Getting some decent gear will drastically increase your life expectancy.”
“And these Arcades are where we go to redeem Loot Tokens?”
“Got it in one,” Croc said. “And the Arcades are great, Dan. Lots of cool games. Nifty vending machines. Loot dispensers galore. You just feed your Tokens into the dispensers and out pop amazing prizes! It’s so much fun. Usually,” it added as a whisper. “Unless there are Dwellers inside, but usually there are. Eight out of ten times, they’re clean.”
“Are you shitting me?” I said excitedly. “That’s great news! I’ve got enough Loot Tokens to choke a horse—”
“That’s not how you use Loot Tokens, Dan,” Croc said gently before I could continue. “Didn’t you listen to me? You put them in these Loot Dispensers.” Croc shook its head. “There are no horses involved, silly goose.”
I waved away Croc’s comment, “Forget about the horses, it was just a figure of speech. The point is I have a lot of Tokens. Most of ’em are copper, but I’ve got a handful of silver and gold ones, too. Plus a few others that have different colors.” I racked my brain, trying to remember all the Tokens I’d earned so far. “I think there was a Ruby one. The other one might’ve been Diamond. They were both gemstone colors, I’m pretty sure.”
Croc let out a strangled gasp. “How in the world did you get your hands on those?” Croc sounded in awe of my accomplishment. “Loot Tokens aren’t Relics and aren’t ranked the same way, but if they were, those would be Rare or maybe even Fabled quality. You must’ve done something extremely impressive or extremely stupid to earn those.”
An image flashed through my head. Me standing, bathrobe fluttering behind me, as I used the Slammer of Shielding to save the gunslinger before chucking my hammer at the head of the Eldritch horror who ruled the 999th floor.
I pursued my lips, “Honestly, it was a little bit of both.” I paused. “It does make me wonder, though, if this Researcher guy can just directly drop these tokens into our Storage System, why not give us prizes directly? That seems like it would make way more sense, instead of forcing Delvers to dick around with these Loot Arcades.”
“That’s a fair point,” Croc replied. “It would be easier that way, no doubt, but the Loot Token System gives Delvers more choices in what kind of prizes they receive. Tokens can be used to redeem all sorts of different things. Each individual Delver knows what they need better than the Researcher does, so this gives them a chance to pick the best reward based on their current circumstances. The type and grade of each Token determines what kind of reward you’ll get.
“Cooper Delver Tokens are the most common, and you can usually redeem them for things like food or water or basic survival gear—nothing magical, though. No Artifacts. But silver and gold tokens on the other hand… You could wind up with some decent gear. As for the gemstone grade tokens, I can’t even imagine what those will earn you. Getting Relics from the Loot Arcade is almost unheard of, but a Ruby or Diamond Token might do the trick. At the very least, you’ll walk away with some high-quality Artifact Sigils to upgrade your weapons or armor.”
“I don’t have armor,” I replied flatly. “Just this fugly-ass bathrobe, green silkies, a dirty undershirt, and clunky work boots without laces. None of that qualifies as high-speed, low-drag tactical body armor in my book.”
Croc offered me a toothy grin in return. “But those items are armor here, Dan. All of the stuff you Noclipped in with has Artifact status by default, because those items have Material Significance—which means they’re real. From the real world. Like you! That’s what makes an item an Artifact. Things that are Progenerated aren’t real enough to be imbued with mana, but anything from your world that survives the transition becomes an Artifact. Even more importantly, the items you arrived with also have Personal Significance, because you’re the original owner.”
“Why would that matter?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Dan. It’s not like I make the rules. But items with Personal Significance are always the best because they’ll have additional Effect Slots, and they’ll scale with you. The more powerful you become, the more powerful they’ll become, and as they advance, they’ll unlock more and more Effect Slots. It’s a great big circular loop of winning!
“And you can put all kinds of stuff into those slots. Elemental Resistances. Added Stat bonuses. Increased armor rating.” Croc stole a sidelong look at me. “Believe it or not, but I once saw a string bikini that offered as much protection as a full suit of medieval plate mail. Offered great movement bonuses too. Not that it saved Ava in the end. She was vaporized by a microwave cannon.”
I pressed my eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of my nose. I felt a tension headache starting to form behind my forehead. “Ignoring the microwave cannon, are you telling me that the nut-hugging green shorts and the dirty undershirt I woke up in are going to be the best Artifacts I have access to?”
Croc shrugged. “Probably. I guess you could get better stuff later on, but any Artifact with Personal Significance will always have one additional Effect Slot, and those slots could be the difference between life and death. You might look a little bit goofy but looking goofy never killed anyone.” Croc puffed its chest out proudly. “I’m living proof of that!”
I groaned inwardly and took a second to inspect my stupid fucking Versace bathrobe.
Imitation Versace Bathrobe
Common Artifact
Type: Cloth Armor, Personal Significance
You look terrible in this thing, and you should actively feel bad for wearing this. The hideous clash of reds and golds is jarring and instead of expensive, Italian imported silk, this thing is made from the same cheap terrycloth material they use for hotel washcloths. And not nice hotels. The kind of hotel you pay for by the month. This thing is one step above a burlap bag. I would feel bad for you if this wasn’t so hilarious.
Effect Slot: Empty
Effect Slot: Empty
Great. Perfect. Awesome. I was going to be stuck with this stupid thing forever.
“Fine,” I begrudgingly muttered. “Let’s find an Arcade and go spend some of these tokens.”
“Getting there could still be a problem, Dan,” Croc said. “Every quadrant has an Arcade, which means there are thirty-six of them per level, but the quadrants are huge. By the time we find one, there could be a Floor Shift and if that happens, getting to this Walgreens of yours could be next to impossible.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” I said.
Croc offered a long-suffering sigh, “I worry about you, Dan. How you made it to level 3 without even knowing how many Quadrants there are, is a complete mystery.” The dog shook its head in disbelief. “Each level has thirty-six quadrants, each with twenty-five sectors apiece. When a floor shift occurs, all the Quadrants rotate, though the sectors within each Quadrant remain the same. Right now, Mediocre Mart is currently Quadrant 28. We’re in Quadrant 27. Those numbers are close together. But if a floor shift occurs, we could end up separated by hundreds of miles.”
“I'm sorry, did you say hundreds of miles?” I gasped. “Just how big are these Quadrants?”
Croc shrugged. “It’s not exact and it varies by floor, but here on floor three, each sector is about one square mile, which makes the entire floor—”
“Nine-hundred square miles,” I finished, after doing a little quick and dirty math in my head. I knew this place was big, but that was almost twice the size of LA, and that was just one floor. The sheer scale of it was mind-blowing.
“Precisely.”
“Easy,” I said, with a shrug, “We’ll just head over to Quadrant 28 and look for an Arcade there, that way if the Floor Shifts, we’ll still be in the right general location. And don’t worry about finding the place,” I said forestalling the Mimic before it could interject. “You mentioned something about a basic navigation Relic. Turns out I have one of those.” I flashed the Compass at the dog, the brass glinting in the neon mall lights.
“I thought you said that was a flamethrower Artifact,” Croc replied disapprovingly.
“I lied.”
I pressed the Compass of the Catacomber against my chest and slipped it into my Spatial Core with a slight shove.
“Friends aren’t supposed to lie to each other, Dan,” Croc admonished, but I barely heard the words over the burst of intense pain suddenly rampaging through my body.
When I’d added the other Relics to my Core, a gentle warmth had radiated outward to my limbs. This time, a raging wildfire roared in the center of my chest, sending pulses of all-consuming flame sprinting through my veins. Simultaneously, excruciating pressure built and built inside my skull as the power and the knowledge contained within the compass rewired my brain in the span of an eyeblink.
Achievement Unlocked!
Legend in the Making
You crazy son of a bitch. A Mythic Emblem? At level five? You’ve got to be shitting me. Either you’re the luckiest bastard alive or someone hates you—hard to say which. In a truly absurd twist of fate, you’ve somehow stumbled upon an outrageously broken ability that you clearly aren’t supposed to have. Seriously. This is like giving a bazooka to a toddler: it’s super dumb, but it’ll probably be entertaining.
Before you’re done, legends will be spun about your reckless audacity and your devil-may-care attitude toward wielding forces of nature better left to the walking deities of the 999th floor. That, or you’ll be dead inside a week. There’s a reason fresh meat don’t end up with this kind of power, and that’s because something nasty is bound to come looking for it. A Mythic Emblem is Reward enough, but there’s a good chance you’re a dead man walking, so I’ll throw you a bone.
Title: Legend in the Making – Increases the chance of finding Rare Relics and Artifacts by 2.5%
As I read over the message, a fresh knot formed in the pit of my stomach.
The achievement confirmed the worst of my suspicions and fears, but I was in too deep to turn back now. I’d already been Marked for Death, so this was one of those sink-or-swim situations and I planned to doggy paddle for all I was worth.
When I dismissed the achievement, I found that the whole world looked different thanks to the power of the Emblem now embedded in my soul.
It was subtly brighter in some places, and darker in others. A nearby glass door that led into a jewelry shop burned with a faint red aura, which I instinctive understood meant it was trapped. Further on, a wrought iron bench pulsed with a thin thread of purple life essence. The bench was a flytrap mimic, just like the fake Progenitor Monolith that had tried to eat me outside of Eastside City Savings & Loan. That had to be my Spelunker’s Sixth Sense at work.
Best of all, hovering in the corner of my vision was a semi-transparent digital map that showed me every twist, turn, shop, and hallway within a fifty-foot radius.
I focused on the map and found I could zoom in or zoom out, revealing more or less of the map at will. Huge swaths were shrouded in an opaque gray, but anywhere I’d already visited was lit up in white like Christmas lights. Turned out, Mapmaker’s Eye worked retroactively. If I enlarged the map too much, the fine details faded and vanished, but when I zoomed in, they reappeared in crisp clarity. At closer range, I could see a pair of small triangular marks on the screen, which represented me and Croc.
I frowned and glanced between the map and the wrought iron bench, which I was sure was a mimic. The creature wasn’t marked at all.
“Hey Croc,” I said absentmindedly. “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that my navigation ability gives me a map, which is supposed to show the presence of any Delvers or Dwellers in the immediate vicinity. Is there a reason why something might not appear on the map?” I paused, staring daggers at the bench. “Say, a mimic maybe?”
“That is an incredibly specific scenario,” Croc replied, “but theoretically, if you did have such an ability, there are a number of other abilities that might counteract the map’s identification properties. There are several cloaking spells that could easily do the trick, and mimics won’t show up at all if they are actively camouflaged. It’s part of our core skillset.”
“Good to know,” I muttered, keeping one eye on the bench glowing with purple light.
I fixed the nearest Loot Arcade in my mind’s eye, then raised one hand and triggered one of my other shiny new abilities, Pathfinder’s Unerring Arrow. My Mana gauge plunged precipitously and a ghostly blue arrow, visible only to me, blazed to life, shooting away from my chest and down the hall—swerving widely to avoid the mimic bench—then continuing straight for a hundred feet, before taking a hard right and disappearing into a store called Style-for-Less, which looked like a knock-off JC Penney’s.
Interestingly, a smaller version of the blue arrow also appeared on the mini-map in the corner of my vision, allowing me to see more of the arrow’s path than I could in real life. Together, the two abilities synergized to form a supernatural version of Google Maps. The only bad part was that the path’s illumination would only last for thirty seconds before fading, and because the spell had such a steep price tag, I wouldn’t be able to cast it for another ten minutes or more.
I took off at a sprint, legs eating up the ground as I followed the ethereal blue light of the spell. “Come on,” I called back over one shoulder, “The quicker we get to the Arcade, the quicker we get to the Walgreens.”
“Which is important because of your urgent medical condition, which definitely isn’t hemorrhoids?” Croc yelled back.
“Something like that…” I muttered under my breath.
