He had to be on some sort of cocktail of growth drugs—or had a dice that helped enhance his physique; she’d seen plenty of those kinds of dice in the games her family put on for the people of Veil. What she hadn’t seen was those powers weaponized against her.
“That’s Mr. Bert to you,” Bert said. Seven reached for her pickaxe, though it seemed foolish. She could fight him off with her new powers, maybe. She could send him flying through the wall even, with what she’d seen with Emmet. But doubt curled in her gut, a sort of slimy thing. It was far too early to use her powers. If Bert saw her with them, what would he do? It was obviously an easy report to LMC. She’d be lucky if he just thought it was a fluke, but it was clear from the look on Bert’s face that he wouldn’t take having his ass kicked by a tiny woman lightly.
She tried to lean around him, looking for the exit, but he was so large she could barely see a gap to fit through. She’d chosen a tiny tunnel to meet Luca in, hoping to avoid trouble, but now she’d as good as trapped them. She glanced at Luca, who was trying to avoid Bert’s eyes, his hands shaking visibly.
Well that complicates things, she thought. If Luca couldn’t handle himself, she’d have to handle Bert for him. And she wasn’t sure she knew how, exactly. And yet one emotion crystallized in her as she took a few more breaths to consider her options: rage. How dare this man try to harass her again? He’d already nearly violated her, and now he was back for more.
Seven had dealt with her fair share of bullies over the years; she was the youngest royal child. The easiest to make fun of. The black sheep. And if there was one thing she knew best, it was that they wouldn’t stand down unless you made yourself too much of a pain to deal with. So she set out to do exactly that.
“What do you want?” she snapped, pushing Luca aside, not particularly gently. “Surely you’ve got better things to do than rob the rest of us of our hard-earned shards.”
Bert tilted his large head, studying her. She realized with a chill that ran down her neck that her back was to a dead end. “Didn’t I just put you in the wall yesterday?” Bert asked, then shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve got a bag of shards, and I want my cut.”
“How many?” Luca asked. Seven gave him a tiny shove again, baffled.
“Don’t negotiate with him,” she said. “And anyway, they’re mine to negotiate with.” She looked at Bert again. “And he’d not getting a single one.”
Bert laughed, the sound shaking the tunnel. “Come now, girl, you don’t really think you have a choice in the matter, do you? I’m taking them all. It’s nothing personal. Whoever has the dice makes the rules, and last I checked…” He trailed off, studying her and Luca, looking unimpressed. “You’re all out of dice.”
So it was a strength-enhancing dice, then. Still, she could bluff her way out of this. “I’m not stupid enough to keep my dice out in the open.”
“Your dice bag’s as flat as your chest, and if you had a dice to use you would have done it by now. Your little SOS trick worked the first time, but it won’t this time.” He closed the gap further, and Seven stiffened, keeping her face straight. She could boot him through the wall if she really needed to. Frankly, she was desperate to do so, but she held her body carefully still. The last thing she needed was another target on her back.
“You’re not taking shit,” Seven spat, thinking fast. There was no way around him, but there was a pocket of ore just beneath this tunnel. There had been cracks at the end—an area she’d skirted around for fear of caving it in. But now, she saw it as an opportunity. What if there was a way through? All she needed was one good blow.
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She hefted her pickaxe gently, careful not to move it, but there was a strange sort of emptiness in her chest where that strength had been just a few minutes ago. Was it gone? Not now, she thought, desperate. If her hunch was right, it was an easy fix, but she’d have to actually reach the shards on her back, and she wasn’t sure she’d make it before Bert knocked her out or worse.
“Seven,” Luca whispered behind her, his voice resigned. “Just give him the shards. They’re not worth—“
“He already got his fair share yesterday,” she said, her eyes never leaving Bert’s face. “I’m not giving anything else to this overgrown tunnel rat—“
Bert moved.
His movements were unnaturally fast. Far faster than she expected. Far faster than she was ready for. She barely had time to think, speed dice before he stuck a meaty hand out, clapping Seven in the face. Her world burst into stars, and she stumbled backwards into Luca, swearing. She had seconds to gain her bearings again, but she didn’t waste them.
“Run!” she hissed, hauling Luca to his feet. Blood pooled in her mouth, thick and nauseating. She ignored it, sprinting for all she was worth, barely looking back to see if Luca was nearby until his boots crunched in the tunnel beside her, running surprisingly fast for a boy who looked like he spent more time in the library than in the gym.
“Run where?” he hissed back, his voice cracking. The blackened tunnel flew past, and Seven’s lungs burned, but there was barely any tunnel left. Behind her, Bert’s footsteps thumped along, his swearing rattling the tunnel walls. They’d have maybe twenty feet of tunnel before he caught up.
“Just keep running,” she instructed, not daring to look over her shoulder where Pocket wailed in protest. “I’ve got a plan.”
“A terrible one,” Pocket screeched.
Luca paled in the darkness as he looked up ahead. “It’s a dead end,” he said, nearly tripping over his own feet.
“Not for long,” Seven muttered under her breath. The air went cold, and she could barely see in front of her face, but she slammed her feet into the tunnel. Twenty feet. Ten. The darkness swallowed her, and she lifted her pickaxe, praying she’d been right. She’d only have one shot.
A rock nearly clobbered her in the face, and Seven skidded to a stop, then swung with all her might. There was a crack, and the stalactite tore from the ceiling with a groan, plummeting into the floor.
It shattered, and Seven barely had time to register what she’d done when a greasy hand closed around her throat. Shit. She spun, pickaxe still in hand, but the floor gave way beneath her feet. The hand vanished. Air flooded back into her lungs, and she was falling, tumbling through the darkness as rocks tore at her arms, her shoulders, her face.
There was no up. No down. Just the roar of collapsing stone, the gritty taste of dirt in her mouth, and the sinking realization that she’d made a very very poor decision.
She reached out for something—anything to catch her hands, her feet on. For some sort of solid ground. But her fingers met thin air.
Her back slammed into packed earth and every bit of air exploded from her chest.
Pain lit up her side, blooming white-hot across her ribs. Desperate for air, Seven heaved a breath, but her chest wouldn’t rise. She gripped the dirt, panicking, searching for something, anything in the chaos. Her pickaxe. Where was it? Her fingers scrabbled across loose dirt and rubble, finding nothing.
Above her, the tunnel groaned. Seven couldn’t tell where she was—only that she was already buried beneath so much rubble it was almost impossible to breathe. Dust rained down, coating her face in its gritty texture, and she blinked it away just enough to see the hole she’d fallen through, far in the ceiling above.
And the second crack spider webbing across the stone. Stone that held the majority of the tunnel walls.
That sobered her up. Pain or not, Seven tried to move. Her limbs screamed in protest—twisted or broken, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. Wouldn’t matter if she couldn’t get out. Luck take me, where’s Pocket? Luca?
She had to get out. Had to help them. Had to—
There was a crack that reverberated through the tunnel walls, and the ceiling came down.
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INCOMING TRANSMISSION:
Science FantasyCozy LitRPGCraftingSlice-of-LifeFound Family
Tess Rivera doesn't need a combat class to survive. She needs one that can fix a dying city.
On a dying world, nineteen-year-old Tess is a repair tech just trying to get by. When a glitch in an old dungeon system brands her with a strange {null} class, she gains the power to see the dungeon's code and talk to its lonely AI. The dungeon isn't cleared—it's just broken. And Tess is the only one who can fix it.
What to expect
- Cozy progression through repairs
- Quirky AI companion
- Slice-of-life repair jobs building to larger mysteries
- System-light LitRPG
- Skill Creation
Inspired By:
- Beware of Chicken
- The Wandering Inn
- Prophecy Approved Companion
- Arcane Ascension
Science FantasyDystopian with HopeWriteathonCharacter-driven
"Not everything can be fixed? We'll see about that."