Remember, it could always be worse.

  Brom didn't mean to kill the champion. It was a mistake, an honest one. One minute, they were all staring as this multi-limbed mass of meat pulled itself toward them. Its skin squirmed as if containing a myriad of wriggling sea-life attempting to burst free. The Guards instinctively took a step back behind him, momentarily affronted as it lumbered into striking range. Arms corded with muscle, almost as thick as Brom's own, began to lift an anchor like a hammer.

  Cold and damp, Brom felt the sneeze only an instant before it exploded out of him. It whipped his hands up and his head forward, and the Drowned Boatswain just happened to be headbutted along the way. There was a sickening crack, and the thing collapsed, the anchor clanking into the seabed.

  +50XP

  HP: 690/700

  The first damage Brom had taken in the whole damn dungeon, and it was almost self-inflicted.

  [Final Wave Complete!]

  [Quest: A Call to Action!]

  - Clear the Tidal Staircase 1/1! Stage Complete!

  [Quest: A Call to Action!]

  - Solve the Engineer's Puzzle 0/1

  For a moment, there was dead silence from all of them, everyone processing what they'd just seen and the XP they'd just gained. Then, Logan spoke up in an almost confused tone of voice. "...okay, I think I speak for all of us when I say, what the fuck?! Did you just kill that thing by sneezing?" The fighter was just staring, his sword loose in his grip as he looked from the anchor to Brom and back.

  Brom was still rubbing his nose. "Technically, I think I headbutted it to death. But I guess I did."

  Bro, anyone tell you you have like no chill? Keep it up, though, the Viewers enjoyed it! The System sounded like a very proud wingman. The kind of guy that was patting you on the back as you vomited in the bushes after winning a round of Wisest Wizard. That friend that knew you were making bad choices, they couldn't talk you out of so they were all in on encouraging you in that disappointed but upbeat way.

  It was still a bit of tonal whiplash, and while Brom wouldn't go so far as to say he missed the discount digital Karen he'd had before, he wasn't sure he wanted to be buddy-buddy with his new...handler? MC? Whatever this thing was.

  Jonesy was the one to laugh and break the tension. "Well, just means that you owe us first crack at it next run, right?" He walked up, patting Brom on the shoulder and casting a heal with a widening grin. "Ha, look at that! Finally got to patch you up."

  "Thanks, man, I appreciate it. You want me to take lead down the staircase?" Brom jerked a thumb toward the yawning maw that descended into the sand. "Just in case there are mobs between here and the upcoming puzzle?" Brom was actually relieved that the mid-boss was puzzle-based. As long as that puzzle couldn't be solved just by brute forcing parts of it, it meant that everyone would have a chance to shine. Because, as Brom was discovering, power fantasies weren't that satisfying when they didn't look cool.

  And right now, Brom Jones didn't look very cool. He smelled awful, was wet and clammy, and there were fish bits and unspeakable fleshy gobs scattered all over him. Hardly the stuff that legends were made of. Maybe that was why they always left this part out?

  Jonesy just made a 'take it away' gesture, indicating that Brom should indeed go first. It had worked for them so far, the group falling in behind him. None of them had levelled up yet, and Brom wasn't even close. The fifty experience they'd just gotten had actually made a dent on his bar, he'd seen it move, but not by a lot. The amount of experience gained from what creature made no sense to Brom. At the end of the day, it simply didn't matter. His bar was either full, filling, or empty.

  To be fair, this dungeon let in level three Players, it was very much a 'starter' dungeon. Maybe it would even have let in level ones. It didn't keep Brom out either, so maybe this was for levels one to ten? Made sense. Normally, there wouldn't be this much of an explosive power difference between a first level and a tenth level, he didn't think. Maybe when he was less busy, he'd ask his new System about it. The guy seemed friendly toward him, so hopefully that meant it would be willing to answer Brom's questions. Because hoo boy did Brom have questions.

  The steps of the staircase became slick and uneven, forcing them to focus on where they were putting their feet. It seemed like the stability of them ebbed and flowed, their surface as rippled as tidal sand. Thankfully, it wasn't a very long staircase, carrying them down an undersea drop off. All of them found themselves swallowing, working their jaws as the pressure around them increased. Despite being in a magically conjured air-filled passage, the weight of the sea crushed in on them from all sides.

  "Claustrophobia warning..." Quincy muttered the words darkly, his eyes peering at the walls. "Getting darker too as we lose the light from the surface."

  "The tunnel walls themselves seem to be glowing, though. Algae?" Ramirez's voice was level, reaching out to poke at the tunnel wall and nodding as her fingertips came back glowing a bit. "Algae. Comes off easy, but who knows if I'm still marked, guess we'll find out?" It seemed she'd taken the risk on purpose specifically to determine if it would have an effect.

  Brom glanced back, shrugged, and focused his gaze ahead. "Glow changes up here, looks like wherever we're going has its own light." A ruddy glow brightened with every step they took, contrasting with the blue-green of the tunnel walls. By this depth, the light was only a faint suggestion from the surface, and everything around them was black. They couldn't properly estimate how deep they were, though their calves didn't burn enough to suggest they'd climbed down too far.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The tunnel gave way to a new bubble room with little warning, and the ruddy light turned crimson. It stopped Brom cold, his brain tripping for a moment as he flashed back to being in Yacht Sothoth's guts, staring at that heart. His hand reached out, gripping the whistle as he steadied himself. This wasn't that. He'd survived that. This would be easier. It wasn't the same at all. He wasn't alone this time.

  The Engineer had become one with the machinery. Chains thick with oil and entrails were holding the glowing boiler aloft, its door open and belching heat and the stench of burning meat, the corpse fused to the top of it, seemingly at rest. Its charred cheek rested on folded, blackened forearms. Everything below the waist was just a stain on the fouled metal surface. A brass pipe, swirled with oil and blood, descended downward into a maw of rusted gears. Chains with rings dangled down, just above the Engineer's limp form. There was a narrow ring of metal around the center, a hopper of coal, three valves, and a bank of levers.

  "Alright, it's clear. Come and get a look at this thing with me." He didn't dare step through the door, just in case that activated this contraption. At least Brom had gotten his wish, he couldn't even see the exit of the room.

  Jonesy poked his head over Brom's arm and whistled. "Damn, this is some Myst levels of shit."

  "No kidding, right? I never beat that shit myself, so I hope you guys did." Brom might have gotten through Resident Evil and the piano puzzle back in the day, but he sure hadn't been happy about it or done it quickly. Myst had been a trap for him, he'd given up at the Observatory. All he could do was casually look around as the others huddled and talked, huddled and talked. This had to be boring for his Viewers.

  "I think I've got it. Or well, I think I have an idea about it." Ramirez pointed. "The coal and the shovel are pretty obvious, goes in the boiler. If you look at the first valve on the left, it's got a bunch of that thick oil on it, bet it's an oil pipe. That means that the one dripping has water, and if you've got water, coal, and a boiler, then you've got steam. So that last valve is probably a steam valve. So we're balancing coal and water to generate steam, and we're balancing steam and oil pressure. Those levers could be anything, though, could be power to the system, could lock gears in place, or shift the flow around."

  They all turned to stare at her with various expressions. She was right, the coal had been obvious, but those context clues weren't at all.

  She flushed under their scrutiny. "Look, it's a combination of things. My tito worked on engines, and I happen to like puzzle and adventure games. Good thing too, all of you had the blankest of looks on your faces." Her finger pointed toward Brom. "Doesn't your family own a garage?"

  "Last time I checked, we don't work on museum pieces. You want me to fix a fan belt or align your tires, I can do that. Balancing the steam pressure in a corpse boiler is a specialized sort of bullshit and definitely not covered in the Jones Autobody service agreement." Still, he couldn't help but grin at her, dropping his arm and shifting his bulk aside. "Alright, ma'am. Going by your logic, where do you want me?"

  "Shovel duty. Historically, stokers had to be incredibly fit, it's back-breaking work. Logan, water valve. Quincy, oil. Sarge, if you'll handle the steam. I'll pull the levers, see if I can't figure out any patterns." She was brusque, certain of herself now.

  It filled Brom with a little confidence. Of course, the moment they stepped into the room, the confidence quivered. The Engineer snapped awake at their presence, rising up, mouth open in a soundless howl. It reached out its grilled hands, gripped the iron rings dangling above it, and pulled. At first nothing seemed to happen... then a splat of crimson hit the back of Brom's hand. Then another. Within minutes, a deluge of blood was hammering down on them, making everything slick.

  There was nothing for it but to start scooping up shovel after shovel of coal, heaving it into the glowing furnace of the boiler. Ramirez was right, it was back-breaking. The platform began to rotate the moment the gears moved into motion, meaning that he had to time throwing the coal to get as much of it into the boiler as it could when things lined up. They seemed to be descending, the narrow platform creaking ever downward. Sometimes smoothly, sometimes clattering to a jarring halt as Ramirez grabbed the wrong lever or one of the pressures failed.

  The coal pile wasn't infinite either. Brom realized it was dwindling. Every lump that didn't make it in was energy wasted, difficult as the handle of the shovel was slick, and there was blood in his eyes. He just had to grit his teeth and make it happen. A single glance down when they shuddered to another stop made him wince. Whenever they didn't move, the blood started to rise, the raining liquid's level controlled by the pressure of their descent. If they stopped before they found the exit, they'd drown.

  He didn't have the heart to tell them as the pile got smaller. Smaller. Smaller. The blade of the shovel scraped against the metal, collecting up the last few nuggets, and as that glowing maw rotated around again, he tossed it in. He took a breath, glanced around at them all. All of them seemed to be fighting with their failing stations, not just him.

  No water.

  No oil.

  Falling steam.

  Ramirez hauling on a bloody lever with all her might.

  Then there was a hard thump, and everything came to a halt. The Engineer slumped, and then collapsed on top of the boiler. There was a loud screech, and everything collapsed, leaving a gaping hole in the wall and a hole in the center. The gears tumbled down into that darkness, thudding until distant splashes marked the end of them.

  [Quest: A Call to Action!]

  - Solve the Engineer's Puzzle 1/1! Stage Complete!

  [Quest: A Call to Action!]

  - Defeat the Captain 0/1