33: ambush

The desert gave way to stone. Jagged cliffs rose from the sands, their peaks lost in a haze of shifting sky. The beacon’s pull grew stronger, the Tarot in Celeste’s hand glowing with a steady, unnatural rhythm.

Atlas guided them up a narrow pass, his shield strapped tight. “Feels like the world’s trying to funnel us somewhere,” he muttered.

NV scanned the ridges above. “Or trap us.”

Tanuki said nothing. His HUD flickered, the minimap still blank. The only constant was the Tarot’s pulse, tugging them higher.

Halfway up the pass, the world broke. The ground tilted sideways without warning. Rocks slid across the slope, trees bent at impossible angles, and the party staggered as gravity itself shifted.

Atlas slammed his shield into the ground, anchoring himself. “Why is everything so… twisted?”

Tanuki’s boots skidded, pulling him toward the cliff’s edge. He dug his daggers into the stone, sparks flying. NV dropped to one knee, planting an arrow into the rock like a piton. Celeste’s cloak flickered wildly as she clung to a twisted root.

The pull wasn’t down anymore. It was sideways. They pressed forward, at least what they assumed was forward, climbing against the skewed pull of gravity. Every step was a battle.

Rocks floated upward, then snapped back down with bone‑shaking force. Mobs phased in and out of existence, their models stretched thin like shadows.

The path itself bent, folding in ways that made no sense, as if the mountain were trying to rewrite itself.

Atlas nearly slipped, his shield dragging him toward the void. Tanuki lunged, catching his arm. For a moment, they both dangled, the sideways pull threatening to tear them free.

“Don’t let go!” Tanuki shouted through clenched teeth.

Atlas grinned despite the strain. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

With NV’s help, they hauled him back onto the path.

At last, they reached the top. The world seemed to stabilize, though the air shimmered with distortion. Below them stretched a valley, vast and broken, its floor fractured into shifting plates of land.

And waiting at the summit’s edge was a rival guild. The Obsidian Pact.

Their leader stepped forward, blade drawn. “Hand over the card,” he demanded. “Or you won’t leave this mountain alive.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Atlas said as he readied his hammer, which turned into a pool noodle.
Atlas threw the pool noodle at the leader and a brawl ensued. Arrows flew, spells lit the air. But it was as if the mountain itself interfered, gravity shifted mid‑battle, pulling combatants sideways, sending them tumbling across the rocks. Health bars flickered, damage numbers appeared in the wrong places, and the terrain warped beneath their feet.

Tanuki slashed at an enemy only for the model to flicker into static, then reappear behind him. Atlas’s shield bash sent two opponents flying upward instead of back. NV’s arrows split mid‑air, duplicating into dozens before vanishing.

Then, mid‑fight, the rival leader froze. His avatar collapsed into polygons, his voice cutting into static.

“…contain… breach…”

And he was gone. The rest of his guild panicked, retreating down the slope. The party stood at the summit, catching their breath.

Atlas lowered his shield slowly. “It’s not just the world breaking. It’s players too.”

NV’s voice was sharp. “Something’s consuming them.”

Tanuki’s chest heaved. He looked at Celeste. “And it’s pulling us straight toward it.”

Celeste held the Tarot close. Its glow was steady, unyielding. “The beacon doesn’t lie. Whatever’s ahead… it’s waiting.”

Tanuki turned his gaze toward the valley below, fractured and shifting like a broken mirror. The path forward was clear. And it was only getting worse.

The mountain path wound downward into a valley where the air shimmered like heat haze. The ground beneath their boots flickered between stone and glowing gridlines, as if the world couldn’t decide whether it was terrain or raw code.

At the valley’s center stood a fortress. Or what was left of one.

Its walls were half‑formed, stone blocks flickering into glowing lattices of data before snapping back again. Towers rose and collapsed in endless loops, their silhouettes stuttering against the sky.

Atlas slowed, his shield raised. “That’s not a dungeon.”

NV’s eyes narrowed. “It’s something else. A barrier.”

Celeste stepped forward, the Tarot pulsing in her hand. The glow spread across the ground, jagged lines of light crawling toward the fortress walls.

“It’s a firewall,” she said softly. “Something built to keep… something in.”

Tanuki’s throat tightened. “Or to keep us out.”

The fortress loomed, silent and broken, but the beacon pulled them onward.

Beyond the ruins stretched a vast, empty valley. The ground was cracked and uneven, the sky fractured into shifting polygons.

They walked in silence. Until the echoes began. At first, it was simple repetition.
Atlas muttered, “This place gives me the creeps,” and the valley threw it back at them.

“Creeps… creeps… you’ll die here.”

Atlas froze. “Ug, that’s not what I said.”

NV’s voice was sharp. “Keep moving.”

But the echoes grew bolder.

Tanuki heard his own voice echo back: “You’ll never be more than a background character.”

He stumbled, his chest tightening. “But that’s not-”

Celeste’s echo followed, warped and cruel: “You’ll betray him again.”

Her face went pale, but she kept walking, her grip on the Tarot tightening.

Even NV wasn’t spared. The valley whispered in her own voice: “You’ll fail them. Just like before.”

She flinched, but her expression hardened, muttering to herself, “If you know the future so well, you should tell me what the winning lotto numbers are…”

Atlas tried to laugh it off, but the echo cut him deepest: “You can’t protect them. You never could.”

His shield trembled in his grip. He swung at the air, as if the voices swarming around them had a physical presence. But the echoes only grew louder, overlapping into a chorus of distorted voices. The valley itself seemed to pulse with them, the ground vibrating beneath their feet.

Tanuki clenched his daggers, forcing himself forward. “They’re lies. Just noise.”

But the words rang hollow. Celeste lifted the Tarot high. Its glow flared, cutting through the echoes like a blade. For a moment, the valley went silent.

They pressed on, deliberately shaken but unbroken. At the far edge of the valley, the ground fell away into darkness. The beacon pulsed brighter, pointing into the void.

Tanuki stared into it, his breath shallow. The forest had been a trap. The caravan had been a warning. The mountain had been a test. And it felt too real to be complete lies.