Keith Carr stared forward, not looking at any of us directly, and we didn’t move. The silence was almost palpable. Dalsarel was the first to move, turning in my direction and giving me a questioning glance. I shrugged, not knowing what to make of this. This was out of my wheelhouse. My gaze turned to Himia.

  She was looking at the man with the most expression I had ever seen on her face, even if that wasn’t saying much. Her lips were pursed and there was a strange look in her eyes that I might have called well-hidden pain, but I wasn’t sure if she was capable of that.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “Doing good. Great, even,” Carr replied with a sardonic smile. “Best I’ve ever been.”

  My head whipped over to regard him, but Himia pulled my attention back. “He is a hologram,” she explained quietly. “Like an illusion, but not completely made out of magic. I could explain it, if you wish.”

  “Maybe some other time,” I replied. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

  The Information Elemental turned to look at me. “I am all right.”

  I arched an eyebrow, but shrugged and nodded towards the flower pot of connection points. “Nothing bad is going to happen if we go over there, right?”

  “There’s no need to worry,” Carr said, raising his hands and looking around the room. “Mi casa es su casa, as they say back home. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I’ll do my best to answer.”

  Some of his words were strange, and I looked back at Dalsarel. “Are you getting any of this?”

  “All of it,” she responded, furrowing her brow. “Except for that part in the middle. He’s not speaking Imperial Standard, though. If this is an illusion— or, a hologram, it has to be from before the Dungeon Master’s exodus.”

  “I have taken the liberty to add you to my translation interface, Dalsarel. You will now understand the languages of the continent, including Keith Carr’s English but not other languages from Earth, and others will understand you. I hope you do not mind,” Himia explained as she turned and approached the flower pot. “And yes, it is safe to move around the dome.”

  “You could have asked first, but I suppose it’s helpful enough,” the Dark Elf answered.

  “Noted.”

  With a sigh and a glare towards Himia for not asking before augmenting people, I decided to leave it alone for now. There was something she said that I wanted to ask about more. “Earth?”

  “Why are you bringing that up now?” Carr asked, scoffing. “If you want to know more about Earth, then go to Mount Rust. Or even Camp Lexi. I’ve got more responses set up there.” The man reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at the ceiling. “Just, uh, be prepared. I was in a bad place when I made those records, and it’d take too much time to redo them.”

  I frowned, and then spoke. “And where are those?”

  “If you have to ask, then you probably shouldn’t be in here in the first place,” the hologram, whatever that was, scoffed. “But you are, so I’m sure you have access to the information you seek. Ask my kids or their nanny.”

  “Nanny?” I muttered before turning towards Himia. She was now waiting next to the flower pot.

  “I much prefer my new position as secretary rather than caregiver,” she answered. “I am afraid I have no motherly instincts. Please, come this way.”

  Following her instructions, I walked up to the flower pot and stood next to the Information Elemental. Other than the connection points, it was rather plain.

  “What, exactly, are we looking at?” Dalsarel asked curiously as she joined us. Out of the three of us, she was the only one who couldn’t see the strings.

  Keith Carr blinked away from his original position and appeared on the other side of the workbench from us. He leaned over, putting his hands on the shiny metal table, and stared into the flower pot.

  “So, you all know about dungeons, right?” the man asked before shaking his head. “No, of course you do. That’s like a whole big thing, isn’t it? Okay, so, dungeons. I’ve been fooling around with dungeons for years now. What makes them, how certain individuals become bosses, their capabilities to revive those inside even though the gods had shut that shit down ages ago, according to my sources, the whole nine yards.”

  Leaning back, Carr began to pace. “Unfortunately, despite my vast magical and technological powers, I haven’t found the source of dungeons just yet. It’s a personal failing of mine, but Himia calculated that it would take hundreds of years to come up with an answer. I don’t have that long because, well, that’s not my goal. Like, it’s interesting, sure, but that’s my real end game.”

  At his gesture, Dalsarel and I looked back towards the hole in the ground. Whatever he had been working on was no longer there. The only thing there now was the smooth crater.

  “But you’re asking about this,” he continued, and we turned back in time to see him run a finger along the flower pot’s rim. Or, rather, a couple of inches to the left. “During my research on creation, manipulation, and a bunch of other stuff, I figured out a way to make them all more powerful. This is that, the Dungeon Nexus, patent pending.”

  “This is the Nexus?” I repeated, frowning.

  “Yup, that’s right,” he answered, pointing in my general direction. “So dungeons are powerful on their own, right? They can do all this cool shit and I really, really needed something to play around with and focus on. So, I came up with a way to intertwine them into a cluster of sorts.” Carr frowned, then shook his head again. “Okay, this is going to get a little rambly. I’ll give you a moment to prepare yourselves.”

  The man went silent, leaving us to awkwardly wait for him to continue. After about twenty seconds of him looking around, making eye contact with no one, he nodded.

  “Okay, so, first up? The connection points,” Carr said, reaching out and plucking the red strings. None of them moved. “This was the first thing I set out to find. Magic always has an origin, right? But it also has a termination point. Sometimes they’re the same, like when you cast a buff with a range of self. Other times, it’s not, like when you throw a fireball. You’re the point of origin, and the magic terminates wherever it explodes. After a few years of really in-depth research, I found it.”

  He held up his hands and took a step back as if expecting violence. “Now, hold on. Yes, it really did take a few years, but it was done so using magical technology the likes of which the world has never seen. Not because you’re not capable of it. I mean, you may get there someday, but it’s because I’m a genius and I’m running with advantages you could never believe. Or, you could. I’ve been thinking of getting someone to write my biography.”

  Carr took a breath and stepped back up to the table. “Anyway, my technology good, your magic mediocre. So long as you can accept this, we can move on. Good? Good.” He nodded to himself.

  “He really likes to hear himself talk, doesn’t he?” I remarked with a scowl.

  Himia made a small noise that sounded like she was agreeing, but didn’t actually say anything.

  “Where was I? Right, connection points,” he answered immediately, as if he hadn’t actually lost his place. “At first, I thought that the termination point would be at the boss. After all, a dungeon doesn’t move. It’s fixed in place. I don’t really see that changing in the future.”

  “Except we do have mobile dungeons now,” Dalsarel stated, crossing her arms. “A genius, perhaps, but a little short-sighted.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Sometimes,” Himia agreed while I snorted in amusement at the Dark Elf’s jab.

  “It came as a surprise to me that the origin point is almost always from the dungeon boss themselves,” Carr continued. “Sometimes it’s a specific place or area, but that’s rare and it always goes through the boss before terminating elsewhere. Usually somewhere in the sky, as if going to some kind of divine being, or a different plane of existence, or… something.” He frowned, staring at the dome’s ceiling. “I haven’t figured out where, yet, and at this point I don’t think I will.”

  I tilted my head on that. When I had seen Abara and Queen Mosquito’s connection points, they both went straight up into the sky farther than I could see. I had errant questions about where they were going, but it wasn’t a burning need to know. The fact that he called out those two theories specifically was interesting.

  For one, there was no god of dungeons. There were people who worshiped and deified owners specifically, but there was no higher power that made it all possible. They were so prevalent in our world that it was strange that no one claimed dominion over them, not even the god of magic, Mjrestar. Many debates had gone into the divine explanation of dungeons, but they never went anywhere.

  The other idea was that the magic was coming from a different plane of existence. There were a few schools of thought around the world that different dimensions existed. I never really paid any attention to it in an academic setting because it hadn’t been something that affected me.

  However, it was all but guaranteed by now. The fact that Keith Carr was a visitor to our world proved it. From Earth, which was a really strange name for someone’s home. At that point he might as well have called it Soil, or Ground. Rock, maybe. I shook my head and started listening again.

  “—called networking,” he was saying when I resumed paying attention. “You basically hook up a bunch of technology together and, if done right, it allows the sharing of resources, knowledge, power, and more and more. That’s what I’ve done right here.” Carr flicked at the red strings with a proud smile on his face. “Take over one of these bad boys, and you can own a whole suite of dungeons, but that’s not all.

  “This allows the resurrection capability to be spread out. Mobs and bosses can now reform even when killed in neighboring territories, and you can basically pump them full of magical steroids,” he continued passionately. “The thing is, it’s indiscriminate, right? You can’t just pick and choose, and it takes a lot out of someone’s reserves. You’re basically throwing down a huge, wide-spread buff with no way to pick and choose your bosses or your mobs or whatever. Everyone attached to the dungeon powers up, no exceptions.”

  I paled at this new information. If there was a Dungeon Nexus by where the expedition landed, then they could be in for more than they expected. However, we couldn’t leave just yet, we had to hear more.

  “Now, I’ve only made four of these clusters, one for each of my homes, because they’re stupid expensive,” Carr said, gesturing towards the flower pot. “It’s basically my own personal protection army, not that I’m using them on the Gnomes or anything. The little guys are fine by me, and they’re a lot more respectful than some of the people I’m used to. However, old habits die hard, and I will not be caught with my pants down.”

  The look on Keith Carr’s face almost sent a chill down my spine. “Not again, anyway. Never again.”

  It was only there for a moment, and then he smiled. “But that’s in the past now. There’s plenty of records of me reminiscing, and this doesn’t need to devolve into that.” The man took a breath and nodded. “So, yeah. Dungeon Clusters. Nexus, I mean, whatever. I wanted to see what I could do, and this was it. There’s still more work that can be done. Like, I’m pretty sure there’s a way to connect even more dungeons like a spider’s web. Attach them to the dungeons that are, physically, on the outskirts in order to bring them in.

  “Any like that are in for a huge loss of power, though. I’m talking probably close to but definitely less than half the efficacy of those that are actually in the Nexus itself. And, theoretically, you can just keep spinning that web, attaching more and more points to the ones that you just connected. It’s absolutely terrible when it comes to efficiency, but I’m sure someone can figure out something to do with it. So, what do you think?”

  Carr looked around expectantly before freezing as if waiting for someone to say something. I turned to Dalsarel. “You need to take this information and give it to Ferrisdae now,” I ordered. “The rest of the army needs to know about this.”

  “They have not landed directly in a Nexus, Inspector. All are near the heart of the continent, though that does not mean they are close to each other,” Himia spoke, accurately guessing what I was thinking. “The Dungeon Master and I specifically indicated a place that was far from the nearest one, but not the most obvious choice to start an invasion in case CC had already planned for it.”

  “That’s good news, at least,” I said, breathing out in relief. Dalsarel did the same. “Is it safe to assume that CC has basically connected the entire continent?”

  “That is an unfortunately accurate assumption,” she confirmed with a nod. “Keith Carr had four homes, each with a Dungeon Nexus. You were sent here specifically to learn this information.”

  “And you couldn’t just tell us?” I asked with a scowl.

  “No, I have a lock on my knowledge that I am hoping will come undone at some point during our time together, Inspector,” Himia answered.

  “That’s annoying,” I growled.

  “I agree, but it is also what has kept CC from some of my more dangerous intelligence,” she replied. “Which, if I may say, is something that has become even more important over the years.”

  Her words gave me pause, but I had to admit that she had a point. I nodded. “Okay. Would it be better to take over or destroy this Nexus?”

  “Take over, though doing so will alert CC immediately,” she said without hesitation.

  “Then why is it better to take over?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

  The Information Elemental’s lips quirked downwards in a frown. “Because destroying the dungeons will kill everything connected to them,” she answered slowly. “They are attached at a level your continent has never seen before thanks to the properties of the Nexus. It is a side effect that Keith Carr tried to get rid of, but in the end never could.”

  “What about Tuskrep?” I asked, running a hand through my hair. “I wanted to disconnect it so that CC couldn’t show up. Elder Thrash seemed to think he wouldn’t survive, and even hoped for it, but what about the rest of the survivors?”

  “Only Elder Thrash is connected to the dungeon,” she answered. “He will perish, but everyone else in Tuskrep will survive. I am surprised you didn’t realize that, Inspector.”

  It only took me a moment to figure out what she was talking about. “Because they’re affected by the DTER, they can’t be minions. Yeah, I got it now,” I said. Once again, I turned back to Dalsarel. “Okay, get out there and tell everyone else what’s going on. Tell Tabitha to get ready for a possible invasion, then get the Sending Stone from Ferrisdae and shoot off as much information as you can remember.”

  “It shall be done,” the Dark Elf replied. She turned to leave.

  “Logan has reformed, by the way,” Himia suddenly said. “My presence will pacify him, so you will be safe on the trip back. I did not want you to worry.”

  Dalsarel raised her eyebrows but nodded. “That’s rather considerate of you. Thank you,” she said with a nod of her head, which the Information Elemental returned.

  “So that silver protector’s name is Logan? And he comes back to life?” I asked as my junior left.

  “Not through the dungeon itself, but he is self-repairing. They all are,” Himia answered.

  I frowned. “Each of the Nexus points are guarded by one? Will you be able to pacify them all?”

  “Only during their self-repair phase, unfortunately,” she replied with an apologetic smile. “However, you will not have to fight all of them. Of this, I am certain.”

  “Good. That’s good,” I sighed. It wasn’t ideal, but I’d take it. “We’ll give Dals some time to get back and warn the others, then I’ll get to work. You can run me through it, right?”

  Himia looked at the Dungeon Nexus. “I can get you started, but the rest will be up to you.”

  “Better than nothing, I suppose.”

  “Yes,” she replied. The silence afterwards was charged, and she turned to face me. “Would you mind indulging me for a moment?”

  I arched an eyebrow up at her. “Depends. What do you have in mind?”

  Himia’s eyes wandered towards the crater on the other side of the dome. “The events that transpired here are ones that I can extrapolate from the given data, but I cannot interface with the memory unit itself. I would like to see Keith Carr’s final recording while we wait, if you do not mind.”

  “You miss him?”

  “That is not something that I am capable of feeling,” she replied. “But any information is good information.”

  I stared at the Information Elemental for a few more minutes before shrugging. “We’ve got time, I suppose. Can’t say I’m not curious, too. What do I need to do?”

  “Repeat after me,” Himia said. “Play the last known recording of Keith Carr.”

  Nothing happened when she spoke the words, but the lights in the dome flickered and dimmed when I repeated as instructed. The only place that was still illuminated was the crater. I turned to regard the hologram, which had disappeared from the flower pot.

  I blinked as I saw the state Keith Carr was in. He was sitting on the non-existent ground, sprawled out with a large bottle in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was a little green. It was immediately clear that he had more than a little too much to drink.

  The man opened his mouth, belched loudly, and shook his head. This made him reach up to grab his head. His other hand, the one with the bottle, raised up. “Hello, whoever you are,” he greeted. His words were slurred, but not enough to match his appearance. “This is it, my final mark on this world. Through success or death, I’m about to disappear. Good riddance to the scoundrel named Keith Carr.”