The Gate of the Feral Gods (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #4)

by Matt Dinniman

“It’s okay, Donut,” I said. “We’ll see her again. I promise.” “You shouldn’t promise things like that,” she said. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” I patted her on the head. “We will see her again, Donut. I keep my promises.” She butted her head against mine, purring loudly.

I reached over and patted the robot on the head. It moaned. Like a sexual, human woman moan. I jerked my hand back. “Jesus Christ!”

I took the photo from my inventory, the one of her and her mother and father, and I put it on the nightstand. Loita: Oh for the sake of the gods. Audiences like drama, but not melodrama. Stop concerning yourself so much with NPCs. We’ll be transferring you to your program in twenty minutes.

“Pretty colors,” robot Donut said. I felt the head turn around to face me in the complete, multi-hued smoke storm. The voice went down an octave. “This is what we all see in the end. I’m always here for you, Carl.”

Nobody comes in or out until the program is over. Again, you are safer here than you are in the dungeon.” “I hope so,” I said. “Don’t forget, you’re in here with us, too.” Her eyes widened, but it was quick.

Donut grumbled something under her breath. It was something along the lines of “Talking Fancy Feast.”

I laughed bitterly. “Celebrating? You call this celebrating our culture? You’re exterminating us and profiting upon our ashes.”

“Zev? What you have done to Zev is the exact reason you are so dangerous. She is young. She is impressionable. She is the future of the kua-tin. The Bloom. Her generation is enraptured by the newest, shiniest thing. They do not trust in the concept of system strength. Of True Unity. Of the Great Consensus. Do you know what we had to do just to bring Zev back into the fold? Unspeakable things to her mother and her aunts. It was only then did she take the badge. We need to do this to a whole generation now because of you. Because of your filthy culture.”

After this crawl, after every single one of you dry vermin is dead, the Borant system will close its borders and only then will the reawakening occur. Only then will we be free of this rot.”

She turned her head to Loita and said, “Have you ever felt true cold? It comes soon for us all. It’s always waiting in the shadows.”

“Times like this, I wish cats really were colorblind,” Donut grumbled.

“Wait,” I said. “Do these commercials actually work for you guys? Wouldn’t it be better to have actual children playing with the toys? You know, commercials with explosions and music and colors and kids running around with the toys?” Gravo made a scoffing noise. “Research indicates that children prefer to have a trusted adult speak down to their level and present them with the best possible options. As the parents are the ones who most often purchase, this logical approach both piques the child’s interest and gives confidence to the parents.”

“You won’t win,” she gasped, gurgling the words. Foamy, colorless liquid oozed from her mouth and gills. “The Bloom will prevail. You will be forgotten.” “Nobody likes melodrama, Loita,” I said as the kua-tin died.

<Note added by Crawler Carl. 25th Edition> Coolie. I know you can’t read this, but I want you and every future reader to know that I used the information from your passage to help plan the first step. If it wasn’t for your words, I wouldn’t have had the confidence or knowledge to act. What I did today I did for you and for a little girl named Bonnie. My only regret is that my first step was a small one, and I don’t know yet if I’ll survive long enough to take a second. But if I do manage that second step, please forgive me. What I do from here on out is solely for me and my people. As long as I am alive, I will do everything I can to make them burn. They will not fucking break me. <Note added by Crawler Carl. 25th Edition> One.

The chair wasn’t high enough for Donut to look over the desk, and she suddenly looked very small sitting there. I reached over and gave her a pat. She was trembling.

“So, what? You’re like the vice principal of a high school? You collect the naughty boys and girls and tell them what their punishment is?”

“Do you know how many assassination attempts there have been on dungeon admins over the solars?” “Probably a lot,” I said. “More than we would like to admit, yes,” the man—Orren—said. “And quite a few have been successful, too. Two seasons ago, a crocodilian managed to snap the head off of his outreach associate. He shouldered the admin into the hallway and literally bit the man’s head off. And instead of teleporting him away into the crawler disposal unit, the idiot Fortent admins sent two of their own security agents to subdue the crawler and also got themselves killed before the AI finally intervened. Three admins at once, which were the only admins killed by crawlers that season.” Orren casually leaned back in his chair, which continued to groan and creak ominously. I knew he was wanting me to say something, to offer up information—much like how a real vice principal would if he was trying to get an unruly student to admit their guilt. I wasn’t going to say a word unless he asked me a direct question. “Three was nowhere near the record, of course. But three is still considered a lot. Last season the Squim Conglomerate had no admin fatalities due to crawler attacks. I’d like you to guess how many have died this season so far due to your fellows.” That was a trick question if I’d ever heard one. “Zero,” I said. The man grunted with amusement. “Not including this most recent death of Admin Loita, the number for this season currently stands at 15. Lucia Mar has killed two....

“Carl, I’m beginning to suspect this Orren fellow thinks we murdered Loita,” Donut said, speaking for the first time.

Carl is very good at killing things, and he can be very clever about it sometimes, but he doesn’t do secret Asian man style murders.” “Agent,” I said. “What?” Donut asked. “It’s secret agent man. Not secret Asian man.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure. How does ‘secret Asian man’ make sense?” “Yes, I supposed that does make more sense.

When he was with Miss Beatrice, his definition of ‘subtle’ was pulling his boxers down and saying, ‘me so horny.’ No offense, Carl.” “What? I never did that.” “Oh, right. That was Brad, wasn’t it? Anyway, you get my point.

It was, quite simply, one of the most brilliant assassinations I have ever seen a crawler execute. And I applaud you for it.”

“You’re obviously getting information from an outside source. We know it wasn’t Agatha or any of her helpers. None are in your bubble. We don’t believe it was Odette, either.”

In fact, it was so flimsy, so easy to fall off, I was starting to suspect the toy had actually been a low-effort assassination attempt on us.

If the rumors are correct and we do take over after the next floor, I hope my own people will be much more willing to listen to my personal assessment.”

Mordecai still looked out of sorts. He was muttering to himself. “Only the fifth floor, and the liaisons are already involved. By his left tit. Next thing you know, the lawyers will be here. Everything gets complicated once the lawyers get here.”

“Yeah,” I said, grinning. “He didn’t even say anything about this.” I held Loita’s rebreather up in the air. I’d looted it off the dead kua-tin’s body.

“Do you feel out of the loop?” Donut whispered. “I feel out of the loop.”

Firas told me that they would have finished with the castle already if Zev hadn’t asked Katia to wait for us.

At the same time, part of me stung at the notion that she could do this without me. It was stupid. Selfish. And it was more than a little narcissistic to think that without me and Donut, Katia and the others were absolutely screwed. But that feeling was there, and I was simultaneously relieved that I’d been wrong and horrified I’d been thinking it in the first place. I still didn’t know if we’d get there in time, but Katia and the others’ actions while we were away proved that I wasn’t as indispensable as I thought. And in the end, I realized it was a necessary feeling. You’ll die in a gutter without me. You need me. You think you’re just going to be fine? What will you do, you disrespectful little shit? You will break after just one day. And then you’ll die. That’s what you’ll do. Just like your fucking bitch of a mother.

Florin the shotgun crocodile guy had finally emerged into a quadrant to find everybody else in the entire bubble was already dead. He was desperately trying to make his way through it, but he’d only managed to clear one castle so far, and the general consensus was that he was screwed.

but Miriam Dom the shepherd lady was hit with some curse that ended up changing her into a goddamned vampire. Apparently she was a vegan before this, and the assholes thought it’d be hilarious to do that to her.

“So,” I asked. “How was the Dungeon Sidekicks show?” “Don’t ask,” she said. “They made me do karaoke with Miriam Dom.”

Crawler #1,293,776. “Gwendolyn Duet.” Level 34 Race: Human. Class: Boring Ol’ Fighter.

Ahh, an old, crystalized figure with a cryptic description. How very convenient for those of us who are wondering wtf is going on with this storyline.

Honestly, I don’t know how it’ll make a difference. You never noticed when I knocked stuff over.” “I noticed. I was just used to it.”

In other words, Ghazi was trying to summon a god in order to turn his waifu into the real deal.

The sand is a mob. The floor is a monster.

“Answer him, you fool!” Donut demanded. “It’s here,” Ghazi said, patting the bag. “I knew the council wouldn’t abandon me. I…” I punched the mage in the face, and I took the bag.

“No. Answer the questions. If I get even the hint of a spell being cast, that dinosaur behind you is going to bite your head off. I’ve seen him do it. Do you understand? Now why is the slime in the room with you?” “She’s… she’s my wife, and I think she’s in love with me.” “Your wife? The slime is your wife?” “It’s an ooze. Not a slime. There’s a difference. And yes, the ooze is my wife.” Donut made a disgusted noise. “If Tish could see you now.”

There’s this program called Inuyasha that I plan on finishing…

The voice of the AI’s description of the ooze was different than usual. There were no stupid jokes thrown in there, and it seemed more morose than normal, which probably was the joke. I just didn’t get it. Mrs. Ghazi Sand Ooze Level 52 Borough Boss! This is a minion of Psamathe Every living creature seeks the same thing. A sense of contentment. No matter what their origin story is, no matter what they are made of, the moment they first exist, no matter how dumb, how smart, how confused, they seek a place of comfort. What that comfort looks like to them can vary wildly, even amongst creatures of the same species. Oftentimes, that journey to felicity is what defines their entire lifecycle. When that creature crosses paths with another, it is inevitable that the weaker of the two will fall further away from their goal. This is the sort of thing that might go through Mrs. Ghazi’s mind as it spends its day watching over a man it has grown to love at the behest of someone more powerful than itself. The knowledge that the man’s feelings are not mutual is like a dagger in its heart, if it had one. It wrestles daily with this realization, teetering on the edge of indecision. Do I protect him because I love him? Do I kill him because he doesn’t love me back? Do I continue with my duty? What would become of me if I simply disobeyed? It’s a lot of stress for a creature not used to having any emotion. It’s almost too much. But even if this creature wanted to end it all, it couldn’t. It...

Omg

“Are we sure it was actually talking about the ooze?” Donut asked.

I had multiple, passive, low-tier stealth movement abilities that never worked for shit because I traveled with a dinosaur and a talking cat, but I hoped it would help cover my passage now.

And that’s when the roof of the chamber collapsed, and the room started to fill with sand.

Donut: Carl! Carl! Help! I fell! There’s sand all around me! Oh fuck, this is it.

I suddenly felt myself moving, rapidly sliding through the grit. I plopped unceremoniously onto the floor. I gasped for breath, coughing. It was Donut. She had bitten down onto my foot and dragged me free.

Carl: We need him to explain the winding box. “We’re not going to need anything in a few seconds, Carl.”

“I don’t think taking the guy from the castle is going to work,” Donut said, panic rising in her voice. “No,” I agreed. “I just wanted her to get out of there.” “Carl, I don’t want to be buried alive.”

“Carl, I changed my mind. I would rather be buried alive than…” I pulled Donut from my shoulder and wrapped myself around her, muffling whatever she was about to say. Above, the ceiling finally splintered, and sand poured over us as a distant, roaring sound filled the chamber, reminding me of the sound of an oncoming train.

I needed to avoid bringing attention to myself, and I needed to get the hell out of here as quickly and as quietly as I could. Donut awakened in my arms. Donut freaked the absolute fuck out.