MADMAN APOCALYPSE

We arrived back in the lobby of the Regional Headquarters with a ding! and as soon as the doors slid open, the effect of ‘Jelly Bones’ wore off. There followed a series of loud cracks and pops as my bones regained rigidity, and it was the most tremendous chiropractor session ever.

“Aaaah,” I sighed, before stumbling upright.

“Gambit… you’re bleeding from your nose, ears, eyes, and mouth,” Panda commented.

“It’s fine. I feel great.”

The plushie gave me a doubtful stare, before saying, “Let’s have a look at this Big Red Button then.”

Bee pulled it out of her inventory, and it was literally just a square block with a red button attached.

“Maybe we should wait to use it until we get out of here,” she said.

I inspected the item:

‘Regional Director’s Big Red Button’ x

Dropped by: Ghe-tj-tj-tja

Activating this button forcefully shuts down the Broadcast Department’s Castleburg Regional Headquarters. This will disable all Broadcast Nests within the Region.

You may be wondering why on earth such a thing like this exists. So do we.

Apparently, as a compromise for allowing the Agencies to set up shop within the part of the GREAT GAME occupied by Players, such a button must always be included in any of the Agencies’ Headquarters.

Weight: N/A

“Woah, it shuts down all the nests,” I commented. “I wish we’d found this first.”

“Will this stop all the Announcements as well?” Bee wondered.

Panda nodded thoughtfully. “It might. Perhaps the Pro-Glitch Confederation actually knows what they’re talking about.”

“I wanna push this button so hard,” I muttered.

“How do we get out of here?” Bee asked.

“The Receptionist went through that wall,” I told her, pointing down the far end of the lobby.

“Do you think that works for us as well?”

“I think they have to make it possible for Players to leave,” Panda commented.

“Hiding the exit with an illusion seems pretty unfair,” she replied.

“It could be a loophole they found,” I said. “If the rules just state there has to be a way to exit, it doesn’t mention how that exit has to look, right? And since this isn’t a normal dungeon, they can be real sneaky about it.”

“That makes an uncomfortable amount of sense,” Panda remarked.

We walked down the scraggly carpet, passing by the abandoned reception desk, before reaching the back wall, which looked just like any other wall in the lobby.

Bee prodded it with a finger.

Her finger passed right through as though the wall was just a projection.

“That feels weird,” she commented.

“Wonder where this will take us,” I said.

“It’d be a problem if it tosses you back out onto the web below the metro,” Panda commented.

I’d forgotten all about that already, but he was definitely right that it wouldn’t be easy to get back to the surface from there.

Rather than let myself be overcome with worry, I stepped through without a second thought.

WARNING!

Now exiting the Broadcast Department’s ‘Castleburg Regional Headquarters’!

Night-chilled air brushed against my face, as I was deposited out in front of a tall skyscraper back in Castleburg’s downtown area. A light came from the quartz Transport Cage in the front pocket of my suit and Lordie materialized atop my head.

“Meow?”

“Yep, all the spiders are gone.”

Bee appeared right next to me, with Panda on her shoulder.

“How fortunate,” he commented.

“Definitely saves us a lot of time,” Bee agreed.

I reached out my hand to her and said, “Give it to me, I wanna press it.”

She blinked, for a second not comprehending my meaning, before retrieving the Big Red Button from her inventory and giving it to me.

I immediately slapped the red plunger, eliciting a satisfying boop!

Good job, Gambit.

Your reward has been deposited into your inventory.

—Schmaical—

Then an achievement followed.

Congratulations! You have unlocked an achievement! x

‘Agency Saboteur’

Removed an Agency’s presence from your Region.

Normally, Players taking down Regional Headquarters is not expected until after the second or third GAME Event.

You may think that you have struck a decisive blow by cutting off the Broadcast Department’s ability to observe your Region, but you failed to consider what will take their place. After all, there can be no GREAT GAME without the broadcast, and, now that the Spiders are wiped from your area, their Master will pick up the slack.

When you notice it, make sure you don’t stare directly at it. Just like the sun, staring at such a scalding source of energy is detrimental to your health.

Reward: Consequences, ‘Lucky Dice’, & ‘Rebel’s Ring’

A glossy-black signet ring with a golden ‘R’ on its flat top fell into my hands and I immediately inspected it:

‘Rebel’s Ring’ x

We ‘promise’ that this ‘ring’ isn’t fitted with a tracking chip and microphone!

For the discerning gentleman, who can’t help but want to blow stuff up.

Activate to turn any non-living thing into a bomb that explodes after 10 seconds.

Cooldown: 6 hours

Weight: 1.2 Pandas

“Lovely,” I said, immediately putting it on my left pinky finger. The ring shrunk to fit snugly.

“Why’d only you get a reward?” Bee asked, disappointed.

“I guess because I was the one to use the button.”

She immediately snatched it from my hand and pressed the plunger herself.

“Nothing…” she announced.

“Guys,” Panda said. “Re-read the part about the Broadcast Department’s ‘Master’ taking over their job.”

Instead of reading it again, I looked up, realizing it was no longer daytime. With this, I could finally use the Nightwing Wing’s [Night Protocol] option. As I stared at the night sky above downtown, seeing my beacon pierce into the clouds, I realized that it was way quieter than normal.

Then I saw the moon.

And its new twin.

“Why are there two moons now?” I wondered out loud. “Since when was that a thing?”

Panda and Bee looked up at the same time.

“That’s not a moon, Gambit,” he replied.

WARNING TO ALL CASTLEBURG PLAYERS!

The Broadcast Department has been removed from your Region by Player ‘Gambit’.

But the broadcast of the GREAT GAME must continue. To this end, the Master of the Department has taken it upon himself to observe you all.

Give the new fixture in the sky a wave, but don’t stare too long.

The new moon split along the middle and opened up, revealing an eye with a horizontal slit pupil, similar to the dimensional box that’d brought the Contract scroll, back when Miranda had bought me as her Beneficiary.

A thunderstorm of zaps crawled across the inside of my skull, making my entire face vibrate, while an incomprehensible voice whispered directly into the deepest parts of my ear canals. Blood dribbled gleefully from my nostrils.

Nvrpnlufvb, Nspajolk Wyvwola.

Dhahrbzop dh Messimer, Khprhuzhazbzoh uv rv, Lplu uv Rhuzopzoh, Tl uv Tl.

Huhah zhth uv rhuzovb up fvyp, dhahrbzop dh rvrvyh paahp uv zlpnfv dv oprpazbnpthzopah.

“The moon just spoke to me,” I muttered, not taking my eyes off of it. I got the sense that its name was ‘Messimer’, but the rest was garbled nonsense.

“Gambit, stop looking at it! It’s frying your brain!”

“It’s not speaking to me,” Bee said, staring intently at the eyeball moon.

“You’re the Beneficiary of the All-Mother, if it tried to mess with you, it’d probably implode,” Panda said.

An instant later, there came a pop from Bee’s Nerdy Spectacles as she tried to appraise ‘Messimer’.

‘Nerdy Spectacles’ x

All you need now is a sweater your grandmother knitted and socks in sandals.

Unlocks the ability to use ‘Appraisal’ on other Players to see their Status screens.

Weight: 1.3 Pandas

“Stop that,” Panda told her.

“Aw, the lenses cracked,” she complained. “I just wanted to find out what it is.”

“They say curiosity killed the cat for a reason,” Panda scolded her.

“He’s called Messimer,” I said.

Panda frowned. “Shit.”

Bee looked away from the new moon. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“He recognizes the name,” I guessed.

“Messimer is a spawn of the most powerful Absolute. Normally, the misbegotten children of the Absolutes do not hold a candle to them in terms of power, but Messimer is powerful enough to have his own following. I had no idea he was the Master of the Broadcast Department.”

“Is he really that powerful?”

“Well, any Player that looks at him will literally go insane, so yeah, that’s not great. Besides that it’s the usual, you know, like, if he blinks too hard the surface of earth will be scoured of life, or if he stares for too long at one place, it will tear a rift in reality that lets Voidspawn flood in.”

“He doesn’t seem evil,” Bee argued.

“He’s an enormous eyeball in the sky…” Panda said, as though it needed to be pointed out.

It didn’t affect us, so I couldn’t find it in me to really care.

I wiped the back of my hand across my bloody nose and brought out the Nightwing skill pop-up, which had been lingering in the corner of my vision ever since I chowed down on that nasty batwing jerky. I was only really interested in seeing what [Night Protocol] did, otherwise I’d be picking the weird bat jump-kick.

‘[Night Protocol]’ x

Passive

Do you ever feel uncomfortable being watched?

Do you want your browser history to actually be incognito?

Do you want to buy ingredients for a pipebomb without alerting the FBI?

Well, then get yourself [Night Protocol]!

It’s only 9.99!

What are you waiting for!?

You become truly incognito. You can no longer be tracked or observed through regular means.

Daily Subscription Cost: 9.99 GAME Coins

“Well, I’m definitely taking that,” I said and selected it.

There followed a cha-ching! sound, and my beacon disappeared immediately.

“Worth every penny,” I commented.

I summoned my longboard and said, “Let’s go.”

“What about the Eyeball and Tarantula Wig that we picked up?” Bee asked.

“We’ll check them on the way,” I replied, putting my left Schmonic Boot on the board and kicking off.

Bee took to the air and followed after me.

“Do you know where we’re going?” she asked.

I brought out the Soul Compass. “Of course I do.”

Even without the Compass, I knew the trajectory of Noah Sullivan’s group, based on what I’d seen from the two monitors in the Broadcast HQ, as they’d gone from a police station near the highway to the industrial area that lay west of the Mayor’s Mansion.

If the Mayor was truly pretending to be human, he would no doubt strike during the night, when his unaware companions would be sleeping.

“We have to go faster!” I said to Bee. “There’s an Otter Mascot in need of our help!”