CHAPTER 37
Destroyer Of Worlds
The void broke, and Bash snapped back into his body.
Shai’s transformation replayed, wings of light and code. “Holy shit,” he gasped, opening his eyes.
Stone ceiling. He was back in the cavern, missing finger still throbbing. His sacrifice for Lilly felt distant, but his body insisted it had been only hours.
Sitting up slowly, Bash looked around. Nora was on watch, back straight, eyes scanning shadows. Patrick and Luis slept nearby, and the fire had burned to embers. “Where’s the bird?” he asked.
“Back up.” Nora pointed at the crack above. “Flew up into the dark. Didn’t say a word.”
Bash relaxed. “Smart girl. She alright?”
Nora nodded, walked over, and knelt beside him to check his bandage. After a minute, Bash gently guided her toward her bedroll. “You sleep now. I’ll take the watch.”
She tried to glare, but exhaustion softened it. She was asleep within seconds.
Bash flicked on Investigator and scanned the perimeter. All quiet. As soon as he was getting comfortable, Lilly swooped past his head, forcing him to duck. She landed on a boulder and began tearing into a rodent, bones crunching.
“Did you bring me some?” he asked playfully.
“Mine!” Lilly glared as if he’d asked for a bite of her ice cream, then repositioned so her back was to him.
Bash raised his hands in mock surrender. “Geez, sorry. You’d think saving your life was worth a bit of rat.”
Patrick woke a while later and began his morning routine. Brushing teeth, shaving beard. The perfect soldier. Uncle Sam would be proud. Walking by, he grunted.
Bash grunted back, more enthusiastically. A full-on neanderthal conversation.
Bash busied himself with breakfast, travel rations in a dented pot, water from his canteen, and a pinch of salt. He stirred the lumpy mess over a fire he built until it bubbled into something that resembled soup.
He kicked Luis's boot. “Rise and shine, sleeping ugly.”
Luis groaned. “Five more minutes.”
“No minutes. Food’s getting cold.” Bash nudged Nora next. “Breakfast. Don’t worry, it’s almost edible.”
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and accepted the bowl without complaint.
They gathered in the middle of their makeshift camp, and the quiet settled over everyone. Too much silence. Too much time to think about Shai, the dev room, the backups.
Bash fidgeted, stirring his soup. The secrets were piling up again. He needed to let one out before he choked. Not the big one. Not yet. But something. “So... I’m not a typical Player. I didn’t come in the front door. I built my own way in.”
Nora studied him. “You’ve said that before, what does it mean?”
“It means I found the Shard while digging for bug bounties.” Bash scratched his jaw. “Thought it was bullshit at first, some ARG rabbit hole. But the deeper I looked…” He trailed off. “The upload process is brutal. Shreds the host layer by layer, turning memories into a file. Though I suppose you all know that better than I do.”
Nora winced. Patrick nodded and gestured for him to continue.
“Anyways. I didn’t have their proprietary hardware. So I built a pure software solution, based on entropy coding.” He smiled, remembering. “It was my best work. Could’ve sold it back to them for millions.”
“Dios Mio! Get on with it, nerd. My headache’s coming back,” Luis begged.
“Fine, fine.” Bash snorted. “They were too sketchy anyway, so I kept it to myself. Then, when some assholes put a bullet in me, my failsafe uploaded me through the back door.”
Nora, serious as always, asked, “The ones who killed you, did they wear those G.I. Joe suits and scary, angular masks?”
Bash snapped his fingers, pointing straight at her. “Right on the money, Baby Jane. Same stupid outfits.”
Nora shuddered, reliving the memory.
Luis sat up straighter. “Wait... So the people who killed Bash and forced Nora to upload were the same people?”
“It fits.” Bash started talking faster, picking up speed. “While I was poking around in their code, I found other stuff too. Really bad shit. Experiments. They were prototyping the Shard by layering code with human sacrifices until they found something that worked.”
The cavern went deathly still.
Patrick finally spoke, his voice low. “They told me all the research was done humanely. Rats. Pigs.” His hands balled into fists. “But I knew those suit-wearing motherfuckers were full of shit.”
Nora's hand stilled mid-gesture. Luis blinked, jaw slack. Even Lilly paused her grisly meal, tilting her head with an almost human stillness. The words hung in the cavern, and nobody seemed to know how to catch them.
Bash broke the silence first. “Whoa. Hold up. Did you just curse and say more than five words in a row?” He leaned forward, mock-serious. “Patrick, buddy, I think that's a personal best. Wanna sit down before you pass out?”
Luis let out a sound, halfway between a laugh and a groan. Nora shook her head, exasperated but grateful for the crack in the tension. Patrick grunted, which somehow said more than all his previous words combined.
Luis rubbed his temples, eyes going distant. “Yeah, but how the hell do we do anything about that? We're four busted nobodies and a bird.” His voice cracked on the last word.
For a beat, Bash said nothing. Then he muttered, low and dangerous, more to himself than to anyone else, “Correction. Three busted SOME-bodies, a badass Raven, and me... the Destroyer of Worlds... and we are going to bash it all down.”
Nora’s face hardened. Patrick’s grip tightened on his spear. Luis glanced at Bash, a mixture of fear and hope flickering across his features.
Lilly, from the shadows, gave out a half cheer, half war cry. “Destroyer of Worlds!”
***
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The climb took hours. Maybe. Time blurred in the dark tunnels. Sometimes the walls squeezed in tight, forcing them to walk single file. Other times, the space widened enough to move side by side. The air kept getting hotter.
Bash, ever the glutton, tore off a piece of dried bread and chewed slowly, eyes locked on the pale ring of daylight up ahead. “Finally,” he said with glee, “Sunlight!”
Patrick’s voice came flat and firm behind him. “Slow down, you fool. Think before you leap.”
Bash took Patrick’s words to heart, then immediately ripped them from his chest and threw them off the cliff. He popped out the exit, looking left and right.
Empty mountainside path with a breathtaking view. Plains spreading hundreds of miles below. The first pale rays of sun slid between jagged peaks, painting the stone in blood-orange.
His companions joined him, gawking. Bash glanced up the rocky walls and toggled Investigator out of habit. Transparent grids rippled across stone, data scrolling.
“Hey, little Polly?” Bash asked, tilting his head at the raven perched smugly on Nora’s shoulder. “Is it just me, or is it getting... warm up here? Don’t suppose this mountain’s actually a volcano, right?”
The raven fluttered its wings and let out a bright, almost sing-song. “Yup! Volcano! Been making grumbly noises. Kraaaw!”
Bash chewed his bread slowly. “I noticed battle signs near where we camped. Skeleton footprints mixed with human ones. Two groups are chewing chunks out of each other. Is that normal?”
Nora shook her head, voice flat. “No. Two factions here. The Bone Marauders roam this side. Those are the ones we saw. And on the other side,” her mouth twitched, “is a group called the Beastmasters.”
Bash waited for more, but she’d said her piece.
Luis chimed in. “Rumor is, the Beastmasters are Uploads who never bent the knee to Maximus. Been hiding in these mountains for years. If the volcano’s active... maybe it’s pushing both groups into each other.”
Patrick swore. “Damnit. If they clash here, we’ll be caught between them.”
Nora’s voice cut through the tense silence. She lifted a hand, steady, deliberate, and brushed her fingers through the raven’s feathers. “Lilly,” she whispered, her voice softer than Bash had ever heard it. “Can you fly up? Tell us what you see.”
The little raven puffed up like she’d just been knighted. “Oh, finally! Stretch the wings, feel the sky!” She flared and launched herself upward, as she vanished into the pale morning light.
Patrick set their order. “Weapons out. Formation. Bash on point, I’ll take rear. Luis, stay close to Nora.”
Nora’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. “I don’t need defending.”
“Not the time,” Patrick said, jaw tight. “Besides, you’ll probably be doing the protecting. You’re the only one with healing.”
Luis clapped a hand on Nora’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, amiga. I got your back, you got mine.”
Nora gave a pained nod. “Fine.”
The mountains loomed higher, the path narrowing to a ragged scar carved into the rock. There was no sound, except for the faint caw of Lilly echoing down from above.
A rush of air cut through the stillness as Lilly dropped from the sky, wings beating frantically. She landed crookedly on a boulder nearby, claws scrabbling for purchase. “Trouble up the path! Trouble! Bad things, skelies are hurting people, there is a crying baby!” she shrilled.
Everyone stood frozen. Steel hissed as Patrick brought his spear up. Nora slid her sword free with a sound that echoed off the stone walls. Luis’s hand shot to his hilt.
“Cover!” Patrick barked, motioning them down.
Bash crouched with them, though his foot tapped against the rock. Listening carefully, now that he knew what to listen for, he could faintly hear it: people screaming far in the distance, and some horrible screeching noise he only imagined the undead could make.
Then he stood up suddenly, brushing his palms against his thighs. “Yeah, no. I’m not just sitting here and listening to the horror soundtrack. I’m going to check it out.”
Patrick swore under his breath. “God damn it, Bash, don’t mess around. These things are way more dangerous than random bandits!”
“No way. Last time we hid, we fell down a hole. I’m not hiding again.” Too quick for his companions to stop him, Bash flew up the pass, the noises of battle quickly nearing. Rounding a final bend, what he saw sent his world tilting.
A brutal fight raged in the narrow pass. Bone Marauders, skeletal figures draped in rusted armor, grinning skulls cracked and jagged, poured in by the dozens.
They outnumbered the defenders nearly three to one. Blades and claws came down in a frenzy, hammering against a crumbling circle of men and beasts.
The humans stood tall and broad, wrapped in wolf pelts, shields locked, and weapons flashing. At their flanks, massive wolves snapped and lunged, tearing into exposed ribs and brittle limbs. Steel clashed with bone. Blood mixed with dust. No one gave ground.
Behind them, pressed against the cliff wall, a cluster of women and children huddled together, their screams cutting through the clash of blades.
Bash barreled forward, head down, arms pumping. He didn’t bother with subtlety. He slammed into one of the marauders holding a jagged black pole. The impact was less “heroic charge” and more “idiot running into a stop sign.”
*Thwong!* “Oof...” Bash wheezed, stumbling back, the skeleton only wobbling slightly. These bastards are way tougher than goblins, he thought, rubbing his shoulder. He flicked open his overlays in a panic and scanned for weak spots.
Nothing obvious stood out. These creatures had high bone density and reinforced armor around their joints. They also lacked the squishy organs he could normally pulverize.
Prediction followed, painting an even worse picture. Every arc meant an incoming strike. Too many, and almost no room to breathe. His eye twitched. “Perfect. Just perfect.” Why would walking calcium sticks come with weak points? Stupid, Bash. Real smart.
Three marauders turned on him at once, axes flashing. He scrambled backward, boots slipping on the loose gravel, ducking under one swing and twisting away from another. The third blade screeched against his bracer, sparks spitting into the dawn.
He exhaled through his teeth, eyes darting as the overlays threw glowing escape paths across the stone. “Okay,” he muttered. “At least dodging still works.”
The thrill hit him then. His lips curled. Finally, he thought. Actually, some late-game difficulty. Pretty sure I skipped about forty hours of the main story.
He pivoted hard, refusing to let the trio of undead encircle him. He shuffled sideways, forcing them into a line. Probabilities traced out options in the landscape, mapping a path to victory.
“Alright,” Bash whispered to himself, eyes lighting up. “Daddy’s got a plan.” He feinted once, twice, retreating just far enough to make the lead skeleton commit to a swing. Then, with a roar, he dashed forward, not for the enemy, but for the tree. He hammered a psionic-charged fist into the weak spot on the trunk, bones popping in protest.
The wood gave way, and the large tree fell straight onto the lined-up skeletons with a bone-splintering CRUNCH. A large pool of black ichor spread out from beneath the bark.
The system chimed, disturbingly cheerful.
Bash stared at the glowing notifications until they faded from his vision, then barked a sharp, ragged laugh. “Oh yeah. These guys gave a ton of experience. Guess that makes me the discount MacGyver of murder.”
Looking back at the battle, another thirty or more undead creatures continued their assault on the group of humans and wolves.
Bash scanned the jagged terrain as Investigator sketched grids along every ledge and outcrop. His gaze drifted upward, remembering Lilly’s sing-song warning. Nobody ever looks up!
And sure enough, there it was. A large boulder, half-balanced on a cracked ledge maybe twenty feet overhead. In his vision, Investigator drew glowing red lines downward, each one terminating in the middle of a group of marauders.
Bash’s grin widened. “No way... that’s actually the answer? Oh man, this is some endgame-ass shortcut cheese. I’m not even supposed to be here yet.”
He bent his knees and jumped, the ground dropping fast beneath him. “Woo!” he yelled, arms flailing as he hit the ledge. For a second, he wobbled there, windmilling for balance. One sagging strap on his pants slid off his shoulder, threatening to drag the whole mess down with it.
“Not now, pants,” he hissed. Regaining his balance, he planted his good shoulder against the boulder. Every muscle in his back screamed as he shoved, veins standing out under his skin. It wasn’t going to move.
Desperate, he opened his menu and dropped a dozen points into Strength, breaking his vow never to spend points when Rewind was on cooldown.
Now isn’t the time to worry about my retirement, he thought, pushing even harder than before. Luckily, it was enough. The rock groaned, shifted, then tore loose with a cracking roar.
The boulder dropped, smashing through the line of marauders. Bones snapped, skulls split, ribs burst into clouds of chalky dust. The sound was obscene, crunchy, and final, echoing off the cliffs. Almost a dozen of the undead were reduced to powder and scattered limbs in an instant.
Holy shit, that was a lot of experience! Max level was so close he could taste it, and with it the first rung on the Remort ladder. He cleared the notifications and looked down at the chaos below.
Prediction spelled out his doom in precise, glowing detail. Bash ignored it and jumped off the cliff.

