Punish the System - 6

Connor didn't even get to see the creature emerge through the wall. 

One moment there was nothing, and then the next… there was. It was like the shining area of the wall sneezed and a growling wet shape instantly stood in front of it, hunched and jittering, like something that had been dragged from the underworld and then left to rot. 

The creature’s skin was like unbaked clay, all grey and sagging, and its mouth was both far too wide and at the same time, entirely the wrong length. Its eyes, four of them, were stacked like uneven buttons down the front of its face, and each blinked and spun independently. One had a purple cataract, one streamed black fluid, and the other two were staring crimson flame.

“Oh, there’s a bit of good luck! This could very much have been worse. Congratulations, Mr Connor, you’re now encountering your very first Troglonn! Their basic classification is of a Dungeon Ambulatory Type One, Sub-Tier: Proto-Chaff. These delightful anomalies are most commonly found in the most straightforward of Dungeons. They are notable for their total lack of ranged capability, tragically limited cognition, and disproportionately strong wrists!”

“It’s also three times the size of me!” Connor said, backing quickly away.

“Well, yes. I mean, Dungeons aren’t supposed to be a strawberry picnic, are they?” Izzy said, rotating around the edges of his vision and wagging a finger. “Where would the challenge be in that? Oh, you may want to take a touch of evasive action, Mr Connor.”

Connor barely had time to respond before the Troglonn swung one of its long arms and back-handed him into the glass-sliding doors.

Pain lit up all down his body in a slow and dramatic fireworks display. Connor groaned, spat something red and toothy, and pushed himself halfway to his elbows as the thing smashed its fists down on him again. 

“Pro tip! Troglonns have a critical weakness to weapons, tactics, and really any form of upper brain function. Also, blunt trauma will do in a pinch!”

“Well, I appear to have blunt force trauma covered,” Connor coughed, just as the creature’s open palm smashed into his face and flung him sideways again.

He hit the ground with another full-body crack and skidded on his shoulder, stars bursting behind his eyes. Reflex, not thought, had him reaching under his coat as he rolled, fingers wrapping around metal just as the Troglonn lumbered closer.

Despite the pain, Connor dragged his arm up, sighted over the shaking barrel, and emptied five shots into the creature’s chest. The rounds punched fist-sized holes in its hide and splattered out something dark and oily all over the floor. The Troglonn stopped, looked down at its injuries and then reached out and slapped the gun out of Connor’s hand.

“Well, that didn’t fucking do anything!” Connor cursed, rolling away and trying to shake feeling back into his fingers.

“Don’t be discouraged, Mr Connor! This is a learning encounter! Your bullets might not be able to kill the Troglonn, but you will have very clearly annoyed it!” Izzy gave him a little fistpump. “You’ve got this. I believe in you!”

“Please tell me you’ve got more than warm words here. Like, is there some kind of plan to help me out?” Connor stumbled away. He had to put some distance between him and the creature, because he really didn’t think he could take many more direct hits.

“I’m afraid I am still operating under significant limitations, Mr Connor! As this is still early in your integration, I should be able to boost your natural healing if you’d like? No shield, I’m afraid, as this encounter is taking place outside of a Dungeon.”

“What does that mean?”

“Possibly worth us discussing another time. Might be best to focus, right now and I’ll monitor your vitals as they crater, and cheer vigorously from the sidelines!”

“Well, if you can’t do anything more useful, I’ll take the boost to my healing!”

“That depends entirely on how you define useful.”

Connor scrabbled backwards as the Troglonn lumbered after him, dragging one foot behind it like it hadn’t quite downloaded how to walk on Earth yet. He fainted left, and then right, but the monster just kept coming. “Izzy, unless this thing’s going to die of boredom from slapping me around, I’m rapidly running out of survival options!”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Activating Emergency Vital Surge!”

A warm thrum pulsed through his body. Connor felt his ribs stitch slightly, and the worst of his bruises simmered down to manageable agony. The blood that had started to pool in his left eye even cleared.

“Good news, Mr Connor. You are now at sixty percent operational status. You’re very welcome! I won’t be able to do that again, I’m afraid - at least not that powerfully - but every little helps, right?”

Connor took advantage of his momentary boost and, with no better ideas, launched himself at the Troglonn’s legs. He tackled it just above its knees, making the thing stagger for a moment and flail around. He had to let go, though, to duck under a counter-swing, but gave it a heavy shove from behind as he disengaged, causing its face to crash into the wall that had birthed it. It made a noise like a blender chewing soup and dropped to one knee.

For about three seconds.

Then it got up again.

“Oh, that’s… that’s not ideal. It does seem very resilient, doesn’t it? Would you consider a strategic repositioning exercise? I can suggest running, very quickly, thataway.”

The Troglonn didn’t seem to be able to move very fast, but then again, at such close quarters, it didn’t need to. It was like an avalanche with elbows and was about as equally immune to negotiation. Connor’s wounds screamed, his vision sparkled, and his gun was now well out of reach. Not that it had done him all that much good when he’d still had it.

“Don’t be glum, Mr Connor. You’re doing so well! You’ve already survived forty-one seconds longer than my most optimistic and wild projections!”

“Glad I’m keeping you entertained!” 

Connor dove sideways as the Troglonn’s foot came down where his head had most recently been. The impact cracked the carpark tarmac. And not metaphorically. Actual cracks laced out from the point of contact like lightning trapped in the ground. 

He backed up and tried to take cover by the ambulance, but the Troglonn crashed forward, knuckled hands dragging gouges through the damaged pavement. It loomed above Connor’ hiding place and stared at the vehicle for a moment, like it was trying to remember what such a thing was for. Then, with an alarming grunt, it squatted, grabbed the undercarriage, and lifted.

“Well, that is definitely not ideal.”

The creature rose, arms extended, with the entire weight of the ambulance held above its head like a toddler showing off a toy. Its doors flapped open and something oily leaked down onto the Troglonn’s shoulder. It swayed on its feet under the weight, but still continued to hold the van up high, triumphantly and excitedly dumb.

“I have a quick suggestion, if you’re open to it?”

“Shoot!”

“Your opponent is currently exhibiting an impressive show of strength combined with near-total lack of coordination! If destabilised, a fall under a heavy weight might induce internal rupture!”

“You want me to try and trip it up?”

“Or startle it! Or confuse it! Or insult its mother!” Izzy’s trench coat billowed as she spun on the spot. “Anything to interrupt its centre of balance!”

The Troglonn roared and took a wobbly step toward Connor, the ambulance still lofted precariously over its head. It wasn’t clear from its expression whether it remembered it’d lifted it.

Connor had no idea how he was supposed to achieve making it lose its balance. Then he spotted a fire extinguisher near the trolley bay which, despite the carnage of their fight, had a canister that still looked intact, with its nozzle dangling like a tongue. He ran over to it, skidded to a halt, took aim and…

Ffffsshhhhhht!

The extinguisher belched a cloud of pale foam right into the Troglonn’s many eyes. It shrieked, stumbled and then its foot caught on a parking barrier. One of its heels rolled off the curb and the ambulance tilted. 

At which point, gravity did the rest.

There was a terrible metal groan, a hollow clank, and the entire vehicle came down square on the Troglonn’s head.

Izzy decided to deliver a complicated little victory dance.

“Impact complete! That move was super effective! Estimated kill likelihood: eighty-three percent! Or, if you like your odds spicier, seventeen percent chance it’s just very offended and will now proceed to eat your liver.”

Not liking the sound of that, Connor dropped the extinguisher and fell back and away, foam still hissing from the nozzle.

“No. I can confirm that tactically improvised environmental kill has now been registered! Oh, look at all that XP, too! Mr Connor, I am, genuinely, impressed.”

Connor coughed, wiped foam from his face, and watched the ambulance rock once, then settle. Then he pushed himself upright with a noise like someone being born backwards and spat a coppery clump into the weeds.

“Glad you approve,” he managed.

“Although I do not believe that this Troglonn will have dropped any loot, would you like me to scan for some or should we just enjoy this small, crushing victory?”

“Just let me breathe for a moment,” Connor whispered, and closed his eyes. “You do you.”

*

“Sorry to interrupt… whatever this is,” Izzy said five minutes later, peering sideways from her perch near the top-left corner of Connor’s vision, one leg dangling in midair like she was sat on a bar stool. “But you might want to dig those bullets out of the Troglonn before its corpse dissipates."

Connor looked over to where the creature’s corpse was slumped. A crackled halo of brick dust and oil seeped from under the ambulance where the thing had been pancaked.

“You want me to do what now?”

“Trust me, I believe it will be worth it. There’s no loot as it was outside its resident Dungeon. The System’s not obligated to drop anything, I’m afraid. But the bullets you’ve fired? Well, I suspect they may have become mana saturated. Which will be a major coup for you, if so.”

Not really sure what was expected of him, Connor stood, knees stiff, and tiptoed his way through the wreckage. The Troglonn’s chest was crushed, completely pancaked under the front axle. One of its arms had bent fully backward, shoulder joint blown apart like it had tried to climb out of itself before the ambulance came down. The thing was still moving, not that it was still alive, just slow to admit it was dead.

Connor looked up, expecting to see utter chaos in the people around him. But no. Bystanders wandered past. A kid on a scooter rolled by, humming to himself. No one was screaming. No one even glanced in his direction.

“What the hell,” he said. “Why is nobody….”

WARNING!

[PERCEPTION SEVERANCE FIELD DETECTED]

SYSTEM ALERT: Hostile Entity has generated a [Shimmer-Bubble]. Localised sensory distortion active.

SOUND: Nullified

VISUAL DATA: Refracted

ENGAGEMENT: Hidden from Non-Integrated.

“Congratulations, Mr Connor,” Izzy said, giving him her twin-gun salute. “You just fought a horror from beyond the threshold in the middle of a carpark, and Brenda from Catering still thinks she’s on the phone with HR.”

Now he looked more carefully, Connor could see that the air was glistening at the boundary of the wreck. Like heat distortion, but bubble shaped. As he stepped through, all sound folded away. It struck him that the whole scene, to anyone else, would’ve looked like a trick of the light. A hot-road mirage.

“How long’s this been a thing!”

“From the moment it escaped its Dungeon,” Izzy said. “It’s one of the many perception filters the System uses to avoid non-Candidates becoming freaked out.”

Connor stepped through the bubble and looked down at the Troglonn. Then at the ambulance, its bonnet still smoking, siren quietly sparking in the bubble's silence. He kicked the corpse, just to be sure. No movement this time.

“Right,” he said. “So the real world’s still intact. Ish.”

And just like that, the bubble began to shrink.

“You will want to grab these bullets soon, Mr Connor,” Izzy said. “As soon as the bubble vanishes, so will the body.”

Connor knelt beside the corpse, and squinted at where he’d shot it. The skin around each impact site was torn but not cratered, almost like the bullets had politely asked to stop an inch in and been granted permission. They sat just beneath the surface, right where muscle met hide, intact and gleaming like tiny metal teeth in a bloodied grin. They’d not flattened or fragmented, which was extremely weird.

He gritted his teeth and reached into the wounds, fingertips brushing the first one lodged near the monster’s sternum. It slid free far too easily, and was slick with heat. Way too much heat. He held the recovered bullet up and it shone in the morning light like it didn’t belong in this world, vibrating in his grip.

“Huh,” Connor said, moving to extract the next one from a blown-out shoulder socket. “They’re warm.”

“Well, they were inside a feral Troglonn. It’s not exactly a day spa in there. But yes, that’s raw System energy you can feel. Residual mana signature.”

Then all of the bullets vanished.

YOU HAVE RECEIVED A NEW ITEM!

NAME: Saturated Bullet
TYPE: Ammunition

ELEMENT: Neutral
EFFECT: Guaranteed minor bonus damage against all targets.

NOTE: Saturated Bullets are immune to Type Resistance Modifiers.

It felt like the bullets had dropped into a pocket that didn’t exist a second ago. Connor could feel them nestling somewhere behind his eyes, like a subtle weight shift in his soul. It was as if his mind had placed them on a high shelf in his own mind, knowing they’d be there when he needed them and they were just a hand reach away.

It wasn’t just that they’d vanished which freaked him out, it was that Connor could feel that they now belonged somewhere, and that somewhere was… inside of him. Or next to him. Or stitched into him, in a layer of his body he didn’t have words for yet. Oh, and there was now a little icon, one that increased in size when he looked at it, saying “SATURATED BULLETS: 5/∞”. 

Right now this storage space was finite, he thought. And then wondered how he knew that. He wasn’t sure, but he reckoned he could feel the edges of it, like the corners of a drawer he hadn’t opened but had already memorised.

“You didn’t say I had a storage function,” he said, looking down at the Troglonn’s remains, his fingers twitching with the afterimages of the bullets. “Like, how is that possible? Where did the bullets even go?”

Izzy, now cross-legged and gently orbiting like a jolly moon, gave a delighted gasp. 

“Oh! Yes! Well, we got distracted by the life-or-death monster battle. My apologies. But isn’t it lovely? First-tier dimensional partitioning, which is entirely personal. Just a baby inventory for now, of course, but fully instanced and hooked to your cognitive thread.”

“Say that again, but with fewer syllables.”

“You’ve got a pocket dimension. You own it. It grows with you. Right now, it’s… let’s say a bedside drawer. Maybe with a lock. Eventually, you could have a vault. A library. A whole annex if you’re diligent.”

“And it’s just in my head?”

“Well. Not quite. It’s entangled with your Core Signature and Matrix flow. Think of it like... a coat you always carry but never wear, except when you reach for the pockets.”

“That’s a horrible simile."

Izzy shrugged, all 8-bit cheer. 

“Let’s do it properly.”

SYSTEM ALERT!

YOU HAVE UNLOCKED A NEW SYSTEM FUNCTION

FUNCTION TYPE: PERSONAL POCKET DIMENSION, TIER 1

“There, you are now the proud owner of a personal pocket dimension and neutral-element saturated bullets imbued with ambient mana from a purged threat vector. That’s winning in my book.”

Connor wiped his hands on what was left of his trousers. Blood, static residue, maybe a thread or two of stitched meat that didn’t quite belong to the Troglonn or him.

And then the bubble broke.

Colours sharpened and sound rushed in. The ambulance, which had been bent around the Troglonn like a hungry jaw, stood whole again, lights idling politely. No smoke. No wreckage. No corpse.

The Troglonn was gone and the people around started moving again. Normal traffic. Normal time.

A busker strummed a ukulele, completely unaware the laws of reality had just zipped themselves back up.

“So, this is my life now?”

“Oh, Mr Connor,” Izzy grinned, stretching and standing in a lazy-cat way. “You haven’t even started yet. Now, considering you have some real nice bullets, do you fancy having a quick look inside the Dungeon?”