The wind didn't blow; it obeyed.
Atlas stood at the edge of his muddy cliff, watching the "bridge" form. It wasn't made of wood or stone. It was a pressurized tunnel of air, visible only by the way it distorted the starlight and the swirling dust caught in its current.
A platform floated down the tunnel, propelled by a gentle breeze. Standing on it was Zhuge.
The Strategist looked exactly like his chat handle suggested. He wore pristine white robes embroidered with blue cloud patterns. In his hand, he held a fan made of white feathers. He didn't look like a survivor of an apocalypse; he looked like a young master from a cultivation sect who had just stepped out for a stroll.
Flanking him were two guards. They weren't human. They were Sylphs—spirits of air formed into vaguely female shapes, their bodies translucent and glowing with pale blue light. They hovered without wings, holding spears made of condensed wind.
[Scan Complete][Player: Zhuge (Alliance of Reason)][Race: Cloud Scholars (Rank B)][Guard Unit: Greater Sylph (Rank C)]
The platform docked smoothly against Atlas's mud. Zhuge stepped off. His boots didn't sink into the mud; a cushion of air kept him an inch above the filth.
He looked at Atlas. He looked at the Overcharged Riot Stick humming in Atlas's hand. He looked at the shivering, soot-covered Kobold (Cavedweller) holding a rusted shield. And finally, he looked at the two C4-Dolls standing silently behind Atlas, their white clay bodies pulsating slightly.
Zhuge snapped his fan shut. "You look... distinct," Zhuge said, his voice polite but analyzing every detail. "I expected a Necromancer given the explosions. But this is... Golems? And a Kobold?"
"I'm a believer in diversity," Atlas replied, his voice distorted by the metallic echo of his own helmet (which he had fashioned from a hollowed-out Monitor Lizard skull he bought on the market). "And this isn't a Kobold. This is my Tank."
Cavedweller whimpered. "I... I am a miner, Lord Atlas." "Today," Atlas said, patting the Kobold's shoulder with the sparking riot stick, "you are a Paladin. Hold the shield up."
Zhuge's eyes lingered on the riot stick. "Lightning enchantment? No... there's no mana signature. It smells like ozone." Zhuge smiled, a calculated, dangerous smile. "You really are going down the Tech Tree. Bold. Most people avoid it because of the ammo constraints."
"I make my own ammo," Atlas said. "Are we going? The timer on the Dungeon is ticking."
"Indeed." Zhuge waved his fan. "Step onto the Nimbus."
The Transit
The journey to the Red Rift took ten minutes. The wind platform moved at a steady 30 miles per hour, gliding over the abyss. Below them, dozens of other islands floated in the darkness. Atlas saw fires burning on some. On others, he saw forests being chopped down. The galaxy was busy.
"The dungeon," Zhuge briefed, pointing his fan at the swirling red vortex ahead. "It is a Goblin Kingdom. Standard layout. Guards at the front, barracks in the middle, throne room at the back." "My scouts tell me the Goblins here have the [Mechanized] trait," Zhuge added.
Atlas frowned behind his mask. "Mechanized Goblins? Like Tinkerers?"
"Worse. Scavengers. Like you." Zhuge side-eyed him. "They steal equipment from fallen players. So expect to see Goblins using our weapons against us."
The platform drifted into the Red Portal. The world twisted. The purple sky vanished, replaced by the damp, dark ceiling of a massive cavern. They had entered the Pocket Dimension.
[Dungeon Entered: The Goblin King's Scrapheap][Objective: Kill the Goblin King (0/1)][Hidden Objective: ???]
The air here smelled of rust, rot, and oil. The ground was littered with bones and broken swords.
"Formation," Zhuge commanded. His two Sylphs floated to the front, their wind spears glowing. "My Sylphs have high Evasion but low Health. They will draw aggro. Your job is to deal the heavy damage."
"And the Kobold?" Atlas asked. "He stands in front of you," Zhuge said simply. "He is the meat shield."
Cavedweller gripped his rusted shield so hard his knuckles turned white. "I hate this game," he whispered.
SCREEECH.
From the shadows of the scrap piles ahead, eyes glowed yellow. Not one pair. Twenty. Goblins. But they weren't the loincloth-wearing runts Atlas expected. These Goblins wore helmets made of skulls. Their arms were wrapped in leather straps holding jagged scrap-metal blades. And the leader... The leader was holding a Glock 19.
Atlas froze. "Is that a gun?"
"A player dropped it," Zhuge noted calmly. "Likely an American user who realized too late that guns have finite ammo. The Goblin probably doesn't know how to use it."
The Goblin Leader pointed the Glock sideways and screeched. BANG. A bullet pinged off the rock wall next to Atlas's head. "Correction," Atlas muttered. "He knows how to pull the trigger. Cavedweller, Shield!"
"Charge!" The Goblin horde rushed them.
Zhuge didn't flinch. He flicked his fan. [Skill: Wind Wall.] A sudden gust of wind erupted from the ground, knocking the first five Goblins backward. They tumbled like bowling pins.
"Impressive," Atlas thought. "Area of control."
But ten more Goblins bypassed the wind, scrambling over the scrap piles to flank them. They lunged at the Sylphs. The Sylphs danced, dodging clumsy sword swings with fluid grace, stabbing back with wind spears. Stab. Dissipate. The Sylphs were fast, but they did almost zero damage. Their spears cut skin but couldn't penetrate the thick leather armor the Goblins wore.
"My turn," Atlas said.
He stepped forward. A Goblin leaped at him, swinging a rusted pipe. Atlas didn't dodge. He swung the Overcharged Riot Stick. CRACK-ZZZRT.
The baton connected with the Goblin's neck. The blue electricity arc discharged instantly. The Goblin didn't scream; its muscles locked up in a violent seizure. It dropped to the ground, foaming at the mouth, completely paralyzed.
[Critical Hit. Status: Paralyzed (10s).]
"Efficiency," Atlas whispered. He didn't stop. He moved like a riot police officer wading into a mob. Bash. Zap.Thrust. Zap.
Every hit dropped a Goblin. The Stun Baton was devastating against biological units. Zhuge watched from the back, his eyebrows raised. "Lightning without chanting? And no mana cost? That battery on the handle... interesting."
Suddenly, the Goblin Leader with the Glock screamed. It aimed at Atlas again. Atlas was stuck in melee animation. He couldn't dodge.
"Cavedweller!" The Kobold, driven by sheer terror of his master, threw himself in front of Atlas. BANG. The bullet hit the rusted iron shield. CLANG. The shield dented, and the impact knocked Cavedweller onto his ass, but the bullet didn't penetrate.
"Good dog," Atlas grinned. He reached into his belt pouch. He pulled out a Boom-Spider. It wasn't active. It was in "Grenade Mode."
"Catch," Atlas said. He threw the clay spider at the Goblin Leader. The Goblin instinctively caught it. It looked at the weird clay toy. The Spider's red eyes flashed once. Beep.
BOOM.
The explosion was contained but violent. The Goblin Leader's hand—and the Glock—vaporized in a cloud of black smoke and red mist. The Goblin flew backward, slamming into a pile of trash.
Silence fell over the entrance chamber. The remaining Goblins looked at their dead leader. Then at the paralyzed twitching bodies of their kin. Then at the white-masked figure holding a sparking baton. They dropped their weapons and ran deeper into the dungeon.
[Battle Won.][XP Gained: 150.]
Zhuge stepped over a twitching Goblin, inspecting the burn marks. "Alchemical Gunpowder," Zhuge noted. "But compact. And triggered by a delay mechanism. You aren't just a Scavenger, Atlas. You're an Engineer."
"I dabble," Atlas said, wiping goblin blood off his mask. He walked over to the severed hand of the leader and picked up the twisted remains of the Glock 19. "Broken," he sighed. "Receiver is cracked. Useless."
He handed the slide mechanism to Cavedweller. "Put this in the bag. I can melt the steel."
Cavedweller, who was rubbing his bruised arm, looked at the piece of gun with reverence. "Yes... Yes, Lord. I held the shield. I did good?" "You did adequate," Atlas said. "Next time, don't close your eyes."
They moved deeper. The tunnel opened up into a massive central chamber. And there, they saw the true horror of the dungeon.
It wasn't a castle. It was a Factory.
In the center of the room, a giant, crude water wheel churned in an underground river. Gears made of bone and wood turned grinding stones. But the workers weren't Goblins. They were Players.
Dozens of captured Humans, Elves, and Orcs were chained to the machines, forced to push wheels or hammer scrap metal. And overseeing them was a Goblin roughly the size of an Ogre, wearing a suit of power armor made from car doors and street signs.
[Boss Detected: The Scrap King (Elite).][Ability: Ferrous Magnetism.]
Zhuge stopped. His calm demeanor faltered. "Slaves," Zhuge whispered, his grip on the fan tightening. "They are enslaving players."
Atlas looked at the scene. He didn't feel anger. He felt... inspiration. "Look at the gearing," Atlas pointed out, ignoring the human misery. "That gear ratio is 4:1. They are generating torque."
Zhuge looked at him with disgust. "Are you analyzing their engineering? Those are people." "Those are resources," Atlas corrected. "And right now, they are being inefficiently used."
He looked at the Boss. The Scrap King had a giant magnet strapped to his arm. "Zhuge," Atlas said, his voice dropping to a tactical whisper. "Your Wind Magic. Can it carry fine particles? Like dust?"
"Yes," Zhuge said, confused. "Why?"
Atlas pulled a small pouch from his belt. It contained the rest of the Copper Dust he had ground down for his failed circuit experiments. "That Boss uses Magnetism. He's a walking electromagnet." Atlas grinned beneath his mask. "If we fill the air with copper dust and you blow it into his armor... and I hit him with this Stun Stick..."
Zhuge realized the plan instantly. "We short-circuit his suit." "We fry him inside his own can," Atlas confirmed.
"Distract him," Atlas ordered. "I need to get close."
Zhuge stepped forward. He unfurled his fan. The wind howled. "Hey! Ugly!" Zhuge shouted, his voice amplified by magic.
The Scrap King turned. His helmet, made of a stop sign, rattled. "MORE WORKERS?" The King roared. "GET IN THE PITS!"
The King raised his magnetic arm. Every loose sword and piece of metal in the room—including Cavedweller's shield—flew toward him, forming a swirling shield of shrapnel. "Shield!" Cavedweller screamed as his only protection was ripped from his hands.
"Now!" Atlas sprinted.
Zhuge cast [Dust Devil]. He grabbed the pouch from Atlas and launched the copper dust into the air. The wind carried it like a glittering gold cloud, swirling directly around the Boss. The Scrap King laughed. "DUST? YOU FIGHT WITH DUST?" He activated his magnet to pull Atlas toward him. The copper dust was non-magnetic, so it didn't stick... until it got inside the joints. Inside the open wires of the crude power armor.
Atlas let himself be pulled. He flew through the air, the magnet dragging the steel buckles on his boots. He didn't fight it. He aimed. Mid-air, he extended the Riot Stick.
"System! Max Output! Dump the whole Battery!"
[Warning: Capacitor Overload Imminent.][Authorize.]
Atlas slammed into the Scrap King's chest. He jammed the baton directly into the exposed wiring of the magnetic generator. "Lights out."
ZZZ-CRACK-BOOM!
The discharge was blinding. The copper dust inside the suit acted as a massive conductor. The electricity didn't just hit the King; it arced through every inch of the metal suit. The Bio-Battery on Atlas's baton exploded, blowing him backward.
The Scrap King stiffened. Smoke poured out of his helmet. The magnet died instantly, dropping tons of scrap metal to the floor with a deafening crash. The King fell to his knees. Then face-planted. Dead. Cooked alive.
Atlas landed in the mud, coughing. His hand was burned. The Riot Stick was a melted stick of slag. "Worth it," he groaned.
Zhuge floated down, looking at the smoking corpse. He looked at the freed slaves who were staring in shock. Then he looked at Atlas, who was already trying to pry the magnet off the dead boss.
"You are a dangerous man, Atlas," Zhuge said softly. "I'm a pragmatic man," Atlas grunted, ripping a servo motor loose. "And look... I think I found our Blueprint."
He held up a glowing scroll that had dropped from the Boss.
[Civilization Blueprint: Steam Power (Rank D).]
Atlas stared at it. Steam. Pressure. Pistons. "Zhuge," Atlas said, clutching the scroll. "Do you know what this means?" "Better pumps?" Zhuge guessed. "No," Atlas smiled. "Mechs. We can build Mechs."