The World is Ending, So You Should Spend Time With Your Dad

“They’re really not attacking,” Botwulf remarked, as he and Apophis crossed through the gate into Last Stop - the last city before the desert that led to Apophis’s castle.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” Apophis replied, slithering next to the healer. He added, “They aren’t programmed to know how to react to me.”

“Nor I,” the Librarian added.

“Cities have rats,” Botwulf argued.

“Yes,” the Librarian agreed, “but I am not Rats - I am the Librarian.”

“What does that even mean?” Botwulf asked - shaking his head and clearly not expecting an answer.

It seemed that, though all knew they were part of a game, not all were able to glean gaming terminology. That was due to Apophis’s Soul Reading evolving to read code. Or to read souls as code. He was not concerned with the difference.

He still did not provide an answer - Botwulf didn’t really need to understand the mechanics of their world. The Librarian knew because Apophis knew, and had transferred the knowledge to them. Since he gave them joint sentience, he could do this.

The Librarian, however, was programmed to provide information. As the rats explained what a mob was and how it was not the same as a mob of rats, Apophis studied their surroundings.

They were stopping for two reasons - to resupply, and because Apophis insisted on Botwulf spending the night in a bed. Knowing he could not stop the dragon - he did not even protest going to sleep anymore, though he had the first few times even with Apophis forcing the issue - he had reluctantly agreed. He had not thought to grab the bandits’ coin, but the Librarian had, clever creature that it was.

The town was made of packed earth and sun dried brick buildings in the same duty brown as the desert sand. They were rectangular, with flat tops and stone mosaics pressed into space beneath the rooves for decoration. The main street they were on was lined with stall - some with wooden counters, some only a blanket on the ground. All had bright cloth covers to shade their owners and goods from the sun.

The citizens called out to them - hawking fruits and vegetables, travel gear, jewels; all manner of goods. It was novel for Apophis, to be so close to humans, lizardkin, and scorpinids that were not running in terror. No, the citizens here likely no longer had the cognizance to be conscious of the fact that they were NPCs in a game doomed to be shut down.

His eyes flicked to the timer always in his peripheral vision at the thought.

[Service Announcement: This world has not met the performance standards expected by this time. Shutdown commences in: 324D 6H 10M 58S.]

It had taken them a month to cross the desert, even at Apophis’s great speed. He had, while meditating at night, divined that one hour in game time was one day in the world of the Developers. (He would not call it the real world.)

So then, their timeline of one year was in reality only a month to the beings Apophis had come to consider their gods. He could think of nothing more suitable - they had created this world and all its inhabitants - who else could do such a thing, but a god?

“Have you ever… been in a town before?” Botwulf asked, breaking Apophis out of his thoughts.

“No,” the Devourer replied, “I have memories of razing towns, but none of being in them.”

“I think razed towns probably all look the same,” Botwulf said - and hesitated to add, “But if you’re going to insist on staying the night-”

“I was going to explore anyway,” Apophis grinned, “but I lack the capacity for empathy you’re hoping it will build.”

Botwulf grumbled, but said nothing more.

“Uh, excuse me?”

They both turned as an older man wearing hunting leathers approached uncertainly.

“Emrys,” Botwulf said in surprise.

“I, uh,” the elven archer rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at Apophis in confusion. After a moment, he landed on, “Fancy seeing you here?”

Apophis chuckled. According to their lore, it was Emrys who set the Devourer free upon their world. Or rather, “It’s been a long time, Father.”

“F-” Botwulf looked between them in bemused horror.

Emrys rolled his eyes, “It was my experiments with Void Magic that caused Apophis to gain consciousness. He only calls me that to make me feel guilty about it.”

Apophis curled behind the elf with another chuckle before saying, “That hurts my feelings, Dad - I do feel some filial piety to you for creating me. It’s why I never would have approached the Sylvan Glade without knowing the World Core Dungeon is there.”

Emrys gave Botwulf a sudden hard glare.

The human healer curled in on himself under it.

Then Emrys sighed, shaking his head and looking at the ground as he said, “Well, not that it matters anymore. Whether he eats the world or not, it’s coming to an end.”

Botwulf remained deflated for a moment more - before the gears turned in his head and he straightened up to say, “Maybe not.”

Apophis settled on the ground, choosing not to interrupt. Likely, Botwulf wanted to recruit Emrys as a conspirator in stopping Apophis once they reached the dungeon. Apophis wanted the elf to lead them through the twisting magical pathways so they could reach the entrance sooner - and without the Devourer having need to destroy the place. He had not been lying about sparing it hardship as gratitude to his creator.

“No?” Emrys asked, eyeing Apophis with an appropriate amount of suspicion.

“We think there may be a way to stop the world from ending within the World Core Dungeon,” Botwulf said, “Otherwise, the Developers wouldn’t need to make everyone apathetic about the ending of the world, right?”

Emrys gave Apophis a pointed look.

“My solution is eating the core and using its power to travel to a world that isn’t ending,” the Devourer replied with a grin, “The Librarian is the other one in the ‘we’.”

“If a solution exists anywhere,” the Librarian agreed, “It is there. That is the Centralized Code Repository of our world - it contains all the information about how it functions. The Shut Down code will be delivered and populated from there - so if there is a way to stop it, it would also be there.”

“You make a compelling point, for a hive mind of void rats,” Emrys replied. The elf looked up at Apophis again, and sent a telepathic message the dragon allowed through, What are you up to?

I already told you, Apophis replied, If you want to ‘secretly’ scheme with Botwulf to try and stop me once we arrive at the dungeon, be my guest. But I need him to reach the Glade, and I need you to find the dungeon without destroying it.

Emrys glared a few moments more before he sighed, and waved over his shoulder as he began walking, “Come with me to the inn, Botwulf - we’ll figure out our plans while my self-proclaimed son tries to entertain himself without killing anyone.”

“That’s the spirit,” Apophis chuckled, leaving the pair to their own devices.