You can either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

  Zandari used that phrase often when talking to his daughter these days. On some level, Toriel wondered if he was alluding to how his wife had died in childbirth. Maybe her premature death was a blessing in disguise, because then she might have “become the villain” otherwise.

  But the more Toriel thought about it, the less it made sense. Wasn’t her father obsessed with the idea of living forever? Coming from Zandari, such a line seemed to imply the opposite.

  Of course, during her time working in the Eternal Night Mine, Toriel had nothing but time to ponder that quote. Maybe her father was trying to defy that supposed law of nature, to live forever and yet be seen as valiant in spite of that. Or perhaps, because of his eternal life.

  All Toriel knew was that working in the mine was wearing her down quickly. This was no vacation - this was more like boot camp. Her palms were soon blistered and callused to high heaven, and what was more, her back ached from bending over so much. Her posture might never recover from this stint.

  Occasionally she would find a gemstone, but she never got to keep it. Again, though, it’s not like she would have used it for anything. When she finally returned to the Colony covered in dirt, nobody would want to go out with someone who appeared that grimy.

  Every time she woke up, the previous night’s sleep seemed to have been less potent. Eventually, she stopped believing altogether that she’d even drifted off, and that broached the question of how long one could survive without sleep. Toriel felt she’d read that the record was a week and a half, which seemed like nothing given how long it seemed she’d been here.

  At last, Zandari approached his daughter and announced that their vacation was over. “We’re going back to the Colony” he told her. “The train will be arriving soon.”

  Toriel’s muscles cried out in relief. After such an ordeal, she could hardly believe that it was finally over. Even the train ride would be a relief, because at least then she wouldn’t have to keep shoveling the damn dirt.

  “So how did you enjoy your vacation?” Zandari asked once they’d boarded the train again. He could barely be heard over the engine, but Toriel was able to make out the words at least.

  The teenager snorted. “It didn’t feel like much of a vacation, Father.”

  “I know. And I am so, so sorry about that” her father insisted.

  Toriel gave her father a “judgy side-eye” expression before looking back at the railcar’s floor. Somehow, she didn’t buy that her father was truly sorry.

  “There was a reason I had you work there, though,” Zandari told his daughter. “It was for your own good, you know.”

  Toriel grimaced, feeling a jolt of indignation as she realized that the classic statement a family member gave when about to mete out an abusive punishment was exactly that. It’s for your own good.

  “I don’t understand,” she muttered. “How can it be for my own good?”

  “It will make sense eventually” Zandari insisted. “But for now, you shouldn’t question it. Your father knows best, after all.”

  “Yeah, because ‘the best decision’ was to chuck me in the mines for a month!”

  “You’ll thank me one day” her father asserted matter-of-factly. Like it wasn’t even up for debate - he just stated it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  Toriel barely slept during the train ride back to the underground city she called “home”. It didn’t help that the journey was just as turbulent as it had been on the trip down, maybe even more so. More than once she felt as though she were going to throw up what little she’d eaten the last few days.

  When the train finally pulled into the station, Toriel confronted her father once more.

  “I don’t know why you had the nerve to call that a vacation, but it’s no way for a father to treat his daughter!”

  Zandari didn’t come up with some elaborate, impressive defense, but what felt particularly jarring to Toriel is that her father didn’t even try. He just shrugged and gave a sad chuckle. “You’ll understand eventually.”

  The rest of summer vacation passed in a blur, as Toriel dreaded seeing her classmates again and wished to cherish every hour that she did not need to see them. Whenever the calendar moved to the next day, she kept a mental note of how many days remained until she’d need to show her probably-still-grimy face to the other students. There were twenty-nine days left, then twenty-eight, and soon twenty-five (because it felt almost like two days were skipped over). Time ran like a sprinter on a moving walkway, and then one fine morning Toriel woke up and it was time for school.

  Before heading to the schoolhouse, she put on as much deodorant and makeup as she possibly could to mask the residual dirt. Truth be told, it was probably overkill, but if someone pointed out how dirty she looked in front of her other classmates, the consequences would be unpleasant enough that Toriel wanted to avoid them at all costs.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to avoid the jeers.

  “Look at you!” a pretty, pale girl exclaimed. This was not in a good-natured manner like “look at your accomplishments”; it was the sort that made Toriel want to head for the hills.

  “Daisy, I don’t have time for this,” Toriel muttered. “I just don’t.”

  “Well, too bad!” Daisy all but shouted with what seemed like glee. “I’m curious - it seems like you’ve got something to hide !”

  “Why…why do you say that?” Toriel wondered aloud. In the back of her mind, she knew she was making a mistake. They always said that you shouldn’t talk back to a bully and show how bothered you were, because that is what they wanted. Already, she’d given them too much attention.

  “Because you put on so much makeup even though we’re just at school!” Daisy bellowed with a handful of chortles attached. “Nobody needs that makeup unless they’re trying to hide something!”

  “We’re not in elementary school anymore, Daisy. Nobody’s obsessed with how many freckles the other students have.”

  “Yeah, but you look all dolled up like a Mr. Mime! And I just want to know why!”

  “Does it matter?” Toriel wondered aloud.

  “Why shouldn’t it? You should know that appearances are everything in ninth grade! I don’t make the rules - I just enforce them!”

  “I’m…I’m going to tell the teacher!” Toriel insisted. Once more, even as she emitted those words, she knew she shouldn’t have done so, because it would only show her tormentor that their torment was having the desired effect. If Daisy saw any sign of success, she was likely to continue.

  Daisy rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re going to tell the teacher? That’s really cute, Toriel, it is!”

  Eventually, one of the teachers broke up this argument before it could escalate into anything physical. Still, Toriel kept replaying the verbal battle in her mind, analyzing what, if anything, she could have done differently around Daisy.

  I shouldn’t have caved so easily. I gave her what she wanted.

  Fortunately, her first period was math class, an easy enough course to become engrossed in. Although it was mentally demanding, it was also comforting, because there was always a right answer, and the evidence invariably pointed toward said correct answer. It wasn’t one of those deep philosophical matters like how best to deal with a bully, or whether or not it was desirable or possible to live forever.

  Nope. Instead, she could engross herself in the land of numbers, the sort of creatures who weren’t always your friends, but would never lie to you or treat you differently from anybody else.

  If I wore one of those gemstones as jewelry, would they respect me more?

  It was a moot point, seeing as Toriel hadn’t been allowed to keep any of the artifacts she collected, but that thought still turned up every so often during class. Naturally, it intruded during those times when it was most important to focus on coursework, because that was just how her luck went.

  She pictured herself teleporting back to the Eternal Night Mine with the help of one of the Colony’s few Psychic-types, then stealing one of those stones while Master McGann wasn’t looking. And then she’d just have to teleport back and weave the stones into a metallic band to create the jewelry. It sounded easy on paper, but would it really impress her peers?

  “You shouldn’t focus on what others think, my child,” Zandari told Toriel one day. “You only have to be happy with your own actions, because those are the only actions you have control over.”

  “But they’ve got so many questions, Father!” Toriel protested. “And honestly, I have those questions as well!”

  Zandari raised an eyebrow. “What sorts of questions, my child?” he replied, scratching his beard.

  “Well, what’s the point of the work? It doesn’t seem like we need any more energy to power the lamps here, so what gives?”

  Her father sighed. “I told you that you’d understand eventually that it was for your own good. I knew I’d need to have this conversation eventually - I just didn’t expect it so soon.”

  “Well?” Toriel replied, a pang of anticipation hitting her in the chest. “What is the reason?”

  Zandari glanced up at the ceiling as though he expected to find a camera there. Toriel couldn’t help but look in the same direction; maybe her father was about to discuss something highly illicit that he’d rather the authorities not know about.

  But eventually, he glanced sheepishly at Toriel like a child caught doing something naughty. Then, and only then, did he answer his daughter’s question.

  “I’ve mentioned on multiple occasions that I wanted to live forever. To be clear, I still want that. But…”.

  “But what? You found out that it was impossible?” I mean, I think most people knew that already. We have one finite chance at life, and that’s all we’ll ever have.

  Zandari grinned. “On the contrary, I have a plan. A plan to live forever. And I’ve had it for quite some time. The mines, you see, have been found to hold the key to immortality. Not everyone can share it, you see.”

  “So it’s eternal life for me, but not for thee?”

  “Well, perhaps. You see, as you were collecting those gemstones, I felt stronger each time you found one. I’m a middle-aged man, but I didn’t feel a day over twenty-five by the end of our vacation!”

  Toriel gasped. Given what she remembered about how collecting the stones had made her feel, increasingly rendering her weaker with every gemstone acquired, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize what had happened.

  The gemstones had been draining her, and that energy had gone to her father.

  “That’s insane!” Toriel all but bellowed. “That’s just so…”.

  “Wrong?” Zandari replied with a snort. “Quite frankly, Toriel, there’s only so much room for right and wrong in the underlands. In this world, you’re either a winner or a loser. And both of us will be winners - in fact, you might get sick of winning before long!”

  Toriel snorted. “Did it take you all day to realize that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. The point is, I can make both of us immortal if we take energy from those in the mines. The condemned, of course, would be guilty of heinous crimes - we wouldn’t be so brazen as to send innocent people down there.”

  “Well, that’s comforting.”

  “In fact, they say that the souls of some dead people from a planet called Earth end up at the center of our planet, Toriel. Legend has it that if you’re between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four and lose your life in a sudden, violent manner, you’re eligible to be sent there.”

  Toriel frowned. “You sound crazy, Father. But if you insist you’re not, what happens there?”

  “At the center of Nexus? Nothing, at least not to those souls. That’s another Flying-type we can kill with this stone. We’d give these souls something to do during their afterlife. Perhaps they can compete for a prize.”

  “So you’re suggesting that we set up a game show down there?”

  Zandari’s eyes glinted. “Well, I hadn’t thought of that before. But yes, that’s a brilliant idea, my child! We could create a game show at the center of the planet, and those who lose could be sent to the Eternal Night Mine to make us immortal!”

  “That’s insane,” Toriel stated. “That’s really freaking insane. It’s sick and twisted.”

  Toriel’s father ignored her misgivings. “If this is a game show, we’d have to find a way to broadcast it on the streaming channels on the surface. What’s the fun of a competition if nobody’s watching?”

  When Zandari’s daughter did not respond, he continued instead. His voice picked up like someone discussing one of their greatest hyperfixations.

  “There’s a tropical world elsewhere in the Underlands, my child. We could build a resort there and furnish it for the guests. And the guests would be the winners of the show - the souls who are still left when such time arrives as you decide to terminate the competition.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “You’re insane,” Toriel told her father. “That idea is just…insane.”

  Zandari smirked. “The man who invented the Pokéball was also called insane. They told him he’d never amount to anything, and now he’s one of the most revered scientists in history. To this day, his papers are required reading in so many college courses.”

  “Yes, but the Pokéball was an innovation within reason” Toriel asserted. “This is just ridiculous. You’re suggesting that the souls of the dead would be better off competing on a game show than…doing nothing?” Come to think of it, that didn’t sound too ridiculous, especially if you were talking about eternity. Eternity was, after all, a very long time to spend doing nothing.

  Zandari ignored his daughter’s objection. “I propose that the game show be called Jet Force Isekai, and it would involve Isekai missions as the main objective.”

  “What is an Isekai mission?”

  “It means you’re sent to another world, potentially as a character in that world. With the money we’ve gotten from your mining efforts, my child, we can commission a team of the underland’s best scientists to find ways to transport players to the surface of our world. And we wouldn’t make these missions be in vain either.”

  “Why wouldn’t they be in vain?” Toriel wondered aloud. Truth be told, she wondered why she bothered humoring her father’s weird fantasies. That was the best word for them - not “evil”, not “insane”, just “weird”.

  “Well, we can make these people believe that they’re doing the right thing. And they would be. We can make the missions moral tasks that must be performed to result in a positive outcome for those on the surface.”

  “So it would be a contest in doing the right thing?” Toriel asked. “And that would determine who gets to go to the resort?”

  “The losers would be sent to the Eternal Night Mine” Zandari muttered. “There have to be stakes to this game show, or nobody’s going to bother tuning in. Maybe there can be eliminations every week - banishments, if you will - until such time as the remaining players are taken to the resort for their eternal reward.”

  Toriel pieced everything together. “So you’ve got a plan to put together a game show…and the losers will go to the mine…and that’ll make you immortal from all the gems?”

  Zandari nodded. “Yes! And you can share it too! Your mother would be so proud of us!”

  It still sounded like a pretty ludicrous idea, which made it all the more jarring that her father was proposing it. Yes, Toriel had known her father was somewhat “eccentric”, but surely not this eccentric?

  “I’ll have to think about it” the girl stated, staring off into space. She wanted to pay lip service to her father’s idea, because it was at least conceivable that he’d make her do it anyway. Parents, of course, had that coercive power over their child that nobody else did, and to underestimate that power would be a fool’s errand.

  Marie heaved another pile of dirt out of her plot, creating a hole about the size of a dessert plate. Her heart pounded as she braced herself for what was likely to come next.

  Nope. I think I’m good.

  The dirt had yet to give way, so Marie took that as an indication that she should keep digging. That’s exactly what she did as she reflected on the mixed blessing that the last month had been.

  She wasn’t blind to her own suffering. Far from it. Marie’s muscles felt as though they were being melted, and every day was more difficult than the previous. There were many instances when she just wanted to curl up and go to sleep; only the knowledge that this wouldn’t be allowed, that Master McGann would crush her like the Great Wall of China, stopped her from doing exactly that. Instead, Marie gingerly placed a gray opal into the basket before resuming the labor.

  However, the last month hadn’t been all bad. She had at last been reunited with her beloved Clancy, even if she wished it were under better circumstances. They ate most of their meals together, and they slept next to each other basically every night.

  Sometimes, when Clancy couldn’t quite drift off, Marie would reach out a hand for him to hold. Clancy would grasp that hand, and the couple would lie silently there listening to one another’s heartbeats. There may have been more romantic ways to spend their afterlives, but at least they were together.

  Marie was soon snapped out of her reverie by the snapping motion of the rope she’d been attached to, tugging on the belt attached to her waist. Dangling in the darkness, she figured out exactly what had happened. Really, it had occurred more times than she could count.

  The rope was tossed from far below, and Marie hooked it into a loop on her harness. She’d gotten pretty good at this over the past month, even if it took some getting used to. And then she was slowly lowered down to the floor of the next cavern, told to return to the worksite, and did so.

  When the tunnel opened onto the working cavern, however, Master McGann was blocking the doorway.

  Marie gazed puzzlingly at the Emboar. “I thought you wanted me to work!” she exclaimed. Not that that’s a good thing.

  “Well, usually I do,” Master McGann replied. “But right now is an exception. There’s something really important happening.”

  Marie half-expected to see rocks falling from the cavern ceiling. That would certainly constitute something really important, an emergency that needed to be addressed.

  But that was not what happened. Instead, the Emboar blew a whistle, a shrill noise that basically filled the whole cavern.

  “Everybody come here, right now!” Master McGann bellowed before blowing the whistle again.

  Are we about to be punished? But what would we even be punished for? We’ve been working hard for a month, so I should think we’re doing everything they want us to. Apparently not.

  About a hundred miners staggered rapidly toward the Emboar. Most of them had vacant looks in their eyes, and their faces were covered in sweat and grime. Marie briefly wondered if that’s how the others saw her too.

  “W-what’s g-g-g-going on?” a familiar, stuttering voice wondered aloud. “W-w-we’ve been w-w-working!”

  “Some things are more important than work,” Master McGann told Clancy. “This is one of them. I’ve gathered all of you here for an assembly, for there is an important announcement that needs to be made.”

  An important announcement? That sounds ominous.

  Suddenly, a plump, long-eared woman wearing an indigo dress strode confidently into the cavern. Marie may not have seen this woman for several weeks, but she recognized her nonetheless. For someone who appeared so sweet at first glance, she’d been responsible for so much suffering.

  “Guildmistress, take them away” the Emboar told Toriel, who nodded in turn.

  “Good afternoon, everyone” the guildmistress announced. “I hope all of you have had a pleasant, productive day here at the Eternal Night Mine.”

  She sounds pretty chipper considering what she’s put us through.

  “Now,” Toriel continued, “I’ve just been on the phone with Mr. Kipper.”

  The ragged voice of Judd Asgard sounded from elsewhere in the crowd. “Who the hell is Mr. Kipper? Your affair partner?”

  Wow. I’ve never known Judd to speak like that.

  Toriel’s eyes gleamed with deadly anger. “I don’t know where you get off insulting Mr. Kipper like that. But for the record, even if I were involved with him romantically, I’m not married and neither is he. If he keeps acting the way he does, he’ll never be married. But that’s beside the point.”

  So why did she bring up Mr. Kipper anyway?

  “In any case,” the guildmistress continued, “I was talking with Mr. Kipper. He sure seems impatient - he wants his guests to arrive sooner rather than later.”

  Marie glared at Toriel. “What the hell are you talking about!” she yelled. It was an exclamation, not a question.

  Toriel sighed. “I owe you all an explanation before I do the honors. So I’ll give it to you. After all, I once called all of you my children, didn’t I?”

  As far as Marie was concerned, the next time Toriel used that phrase, she was ready to hurl. Quite frankly, the guildmistress had no right to speak as though she cared one iota about the contestants at Jet Force Isekai.

  “The first thing you all need to know, for those who remained unaware,” Toriel continued, “is that Jet Force Isekai is a game show.”

  The general outcry was abundantly audible. Most of the other miners didn’t seem to have pieced it together. For as much as Marie found Sophie Frey a know-it-all who wanted to, well, know it all, she had to admit that her former bunkmate’s intellect was impressive.

  “Or rather, it was a game show” the guildmistress said. “Those of you who have been paying attention might have noticed that more people than usual have been arriving at the mine the last few weeks. In fact, all of the contestants on Jet Force Isekai have been sent here.”

  “So the game is over?” Sophie spat.

  “The show is over, yes,” Toriel replied.

  “Somehow I doubt that” Sophie replied curtly. “I think you’re still playing with us. It’s okay to admit that you’re a megalomaniac, Toriel. It really is, if that’s the truth.”

  “Well, you can make of that what you will, my child” the guildmistress responded sweetly.

  Marie got down to her knees, bile rising in her throat. It did not matter that she’d had so little to eat that day; it didn’t matter that no stomach virus ravaged the mine. She leaned over and threw up for a solid minute.

  Clancy rushed over to help her, but Master McGann grunted. “She must deal with her nausea alone, Clancy Coventry.”

  “But we were - we are husband and wife!” Clancy protested, sounding totally confident for once.

  Toriel glared at him. “Clancy Coventry, if there’s one notion you should have dispensed with as soon as you ended up here, it’s the idea that familial bonds from your Earthly life matter at all. As Lucas might say, the past is a weakness.”

  “Well, then I don’t wanna be strong!” Clancy shouted.

  On some level, Marie had to admit that was endearing. At the same time, though, she knew that endearment only meant so much if both of them didn’t live out the day.

  “There’s something else I need to come clean on,” Toriel announced. “It’s not something I’m proud of keeping from you, but I would be remiss if I didn’t present this information.”

  A tall man from beside Judd spoke up next. “Really! What could be worse than what you’ve already told us? Are you and Mr. Kipper having a threesome with someone else?”

  “Michael Rainsford, that is totally out of line! Like, why would you say such a thing?”

  “Because, as a friend of mine once told your Lucario assistant, you are a loser! And you’re a sucker, too! I could just as easily ask why you’d put us through all those missions!”

  Toriel cleared her throat. “You can curse me out all you want, Michael Rainsford, but I hope you will at least allow me to speak. Hear me out, and then you can talk.”

  Mizar grumbled a bit, but he didn’t push Toriel any further toward the proverbial ledge. The guildmistress then sighed.

  “I told you all that the Isekai missions you took on were merely simulations. You were put in the body of a Pokémon and made to complete tasks on the surface of Nexus.”

  Oh boy. Was that a lie too? This woman’s shirt is going to be on fire soon, mark my words.

  “Well, those missions were real. The minds that possessed those Pokémon bodies were truly your souls.”

  Toriel let that sink in for a moment, but it didn’t take long for Mizar to raise a fist. “What do you mean, they were truly our souls?”

  The guildmistress shrugged, then sighed. “We had some of the underland’s most decorated scientists develop the serums that would transport players to the surface. It took a few decades to get right, but eventually they were able to figure it out. However, there was one problem…”.

  Sophie seemed to realize it first. Pushing her way to the crowd, the young Canadian woman exclaimed the following: “You weren’t able to get only our minds in there?”

  Toriel nodded. “That was indeed the problem. Like I said, your souls were in the Pokémon bodies as well.”

  “What’s even the difference between a mind and a soul, though? As far as I’m concerned, everything I am is a product of my brain!”

  The guildmistress glared at Sophie. “Not everything is as it appears. But some things are.”

  Toriel then produced a device from her pocket that looked like a primitive sort of TV remote. She pointed it at the cavern wall, and a series of neon red digits appeared on said wall stating 10:00, which swiftly began counting down the seconds.

  “You all have ten minutes before the pact is sealed” Toriel stated.

  Judd glared at the guildmistress. “What the hell does that mean? What pact? We didn’t promise you anything!”

  “Perhaps pact is the wrong word. But my point still stands.”

  Master McGann spoke up next. “I have to head out,” he stated. “Gotta take a piss.”

  “Fair enough” Toriel stated. “Come back when the assembly is over.”

  There was another period of silence. When the digital timer said 8:42, Judd shouted the following: “Just tell us! Why did you create the game show? How did you choose the contestants?”

  “I thought it was no secret how the souls of the dead arrived in the ruins” the guildmistress responded briskly. “The deceased must be between the ages of…”.

  “We know, Toriel, we know!” Judd exclaimed. “And I know you rigged my last mission so that my team couldn’t succeed! It was impossible to rescue that Mismagius!”

  “Judd Asgard, as far as I’m concerned, your inability to complete the mission and score at least 70 points is what those in your generation might call a skill issue. There was no fraud - you lost fair and square.”

  “Yeah!” Sophie bellowed. “I’m not normally one to agree with Judd - “.

  Judd rolled his eyes, but his frenemy/bunkmate continued.

  “ - but we tried so hard to release those chains! It just wasn’t going to happen no matter what! That mission was absolutely impossible, and you know it!”

  Another moderately long silence ensued, after which the timer said 7:32. Toriel might not have given a satisfying answer, but it became clear she didn’t really need to: She was stalling for time. But why? What would happen when time ran out?

  Finally, Toriel winked. “Okay. I’ve admitted some things that I maybe shouldn’t be proud of today, so I might as well go all the way. Sometimes we fixed things up to make the game more interesting…”.

  “I knew it!” Mizar shouted triumphantly. “I fucking knew it!”

  “That’s illegal, isn’t it?” Judd wondered aloud.

  “Judd Asgard, Michael Rainsford, do not interrupt me. Yes, I am aware that in your United States there are laws against running a game show that isn’t impartial. However, you need to stop thinking that the United States runs game shows the only possible way.”

  “So you did rig my last mission” Judd replied testily.

  Toriel nodded, but she didn’t seem guilty at all. Indeed, she non-apologized in this manner: “I did what I needed to do. Your cabin committed an offense against the integrity of Jet Force Isekai , which required the contestants to remain unaware that they were in fact contestants. For that, the tenants of Cabin Gemini could not remain unpunished. They could not!”

  She’s using more words than necessary, Marie realized, as less than six minutes now remained on the clock. She surely wants us to still be here when the timer hits zero.

  And yet Marie did not budge. To some extent, she really wanted to know what direction their verbal feud with Toriel was about to travel.

  “And you rigged mine too!” Mizar yelled. “I did not get a score of 45! I did everything right! Or at least, almost everything!”

  Toriel giggled. It was a rather obnoxious sound, much like some of the students at Rockabilly High would emit when making fun of Clancy’s lack of confidence. Marie wanted to gouge her ears out when she heard it.

  When the laughter ended, Toriel nodded. “Yes, Michael Rainsford. You did not actually score a 45 on your final mission.”

  Mizar took a stance that suggested he was about to attack Toriel like a lion pouncing on its prey. A fight was coming; that much was clear to Marie.

  “Then what score did I get? Please answer me!”

  Toriel giggled again. “It does not matter what score you received. You’ve been here for the better part of two months - isn’t it time you moved on?”

  “On the contrary,” Mizar replied, getting closer to Toriel so that he could pounce whenever he wanted, “you are going to tell me what score I received. If you do not, I am going to make sure you regret it.”

  Toriel shook her head. “You’re a naughty boy, very naughty indeed! Threats must never be the way to get what you want!”

  “But it’s not an empty threat” Mizar responded coldly. “I have the guts to make it happen, and I know I could take you in a fight.”

  Judd shifted on his feet, his mouth squirming. Marie figured he felt compelled to restrain his friend, but was also too frightened to make a move. In any case, he did not have a chance, for Toriel gave Mizar a very wide smile. A Cheshire grin, as some called them.

  “Well, Michael Rainsford,” the guildmistress stated, “if you get too close to me, if you try to tackle me, I’m going to press the red button.”

  Mizar winked angrily at Toriel. “What happens if you press the red button?”

  “The timer hits zero” the guildmistress responded. “But honestly, Michael Rainsford, you only have about three minutes left. Does it even matter?”

  “Depends what happens in three minutes .”

  “You don’t want to know what happens in three minutes. If you tackle me, I will press the button.”

  At that moment, Marie noticed the intensity of Mizar’s gaze. And then she understood: He’s trying to figure out how to snipe that remote. If he goes, he can figure out a way to disengage the timer.

  But it says 2:39 up there, and it’s still counting down. He doesn’t have much time…

  Mizar made a beeline for Toriel and threw himself onto her like a defensive football player taking down a running back. With seconds, he’d managed to tackle the guildmistress to the ground, and then pinned himself atop her.

  “You are going to disengage the timer,” Mizar told her breathlessly. “And you’re going to tell me my real score. Or I’m going to…”.

  “How could you even threaten me?” Toriel snapped.

  Unfortunately, Marie knew the guildmistress was correct. Mizar had no leverage, as much as he liked to pretend he could actually talk Toriel out of letting the time expire. However, Mizar did get half of what he wanted.

  “You scored a 95 in your last mission, Michael Rainsford,” the guildmistress told the man pinning her to the ground. “Now get off me, or else…”.

  “Or else wha t?” Mizar wondered aloud, utilizing his no-doubt-horrendous breath to make the guildmistress’ eyes water. “You have no leverage.”

  Marie could only watch as Mizar grabbed the remote from Toriel’s palm and swung around to face the timer. There was now only slightly more than a minute left. Meanwhile, Toriel took advantage of being free to run away from the scene - despite her bulk, she moved surprisingly quickly until she was almost out of sight.

  “Well then?” Jessica exclaimed. “Stop the timer!”

  “I’ll try!” Mizar shouted. “But there’s only one button!”

  As the timer counted down from 0:39 to 0:38 and below, Marie felt the cavern shake. She then realized what the remote’s purpose was, and with a panicked gasp, she shouted only one word:

  “RUN!”

  Marie didn’t even bother looking to see how many of the other miners had heeded that advice. All she did was sprint back into the mine, in the opposite way from which Toriel had taken off. Those who’d been further from Toriel when the quaking began were also running, and Marie nearly tripped over them more than once.

  She heard the rocks falling behind her as the tremors continued. She heard the yelps from the other workers as they tripped, as well as the panicked shouts as they realized what was upon them.

  And then…

  BOOM.

  The explosion swept Marie off her feet, and she flew headfirst through the air like a superhero. Unlike a superhero, however, she landed hard on her chest pretty quickly, losing consciousness instantly on impact.