Bob observed the two cores resting on the breakfast table. Both were the size of quail eggs, but their similarities ended there. The one Jenna had named an essence core had a pearlescent sheen and seemed to pulsate with an inner light. In contrast, the dungeon seed, as Billy had called it, was so black that when exposed to direct light, it looked like a hole punched through reality.

  “What am I looking at here?” Bob asked.

  “The essence core was inside the body of the hunter who attacked the River Dragon. He seemed to feed on it. My mind is much more attuned to these phenomena since I copied the Compendium inside my mind.”

  “What is its function? Bob asked, holding the essence core in his hand while he inspected it.

  “It was granting him experience-the experience this world no longer grants to anyone,” answered Jenna.

  “You mean he just ate the core, and it leveled him up? Just like that?” asked Billy.

  "No, that is not what I meant.” Jenna carefully inspected the essence core held in her right hand. “He absorbed the core, which enabled him to gain experience as if he were in an active System, similar to Earth’s.”

  “He still needed to battle the River Dragon to become more powerful. These progression bars are like quests, but not quite the same. They grant experience when the progressor performs actions that align with their Intent; in this case, Hunting Intent."

  "So that’s why I’m no longer gaining achievement points," Billy said, amazed. "Achievement points are like experience points for me, and we’re currently in a locked system. There are no more quests, no more achievement points, and nothing related to systemic energy."

  "Add 'no more perks' to that list," Bob said. "I spent the entire afternoon trying to activate a Truthfinding perk to help me search for specific books in the library, but it didn’t increase even a single percentage point. I can no longer create new perks while on Belona."

  “Have your powers acted strangely, Jenna?” he asked her.

  “No, they are still working the same way as before, but I think there’s an explanation for that.”

  “With Billy and you, there’s a sense of progression as you both learn to use your powers: Billy gains new respawn options, and you discover new perks,” she added with a hint of regret.

  “It’s not the same for me. I still have the same powers; I’ve just learned to use them better. Whether we like it or not, I can do a lot of things, but I can’t learn to do new ones.”

  "That was true until the moment you absorbed the Compendium," Bob replied. "You are now the Loser with the highest potential. You just need to learn how to use it."

  "Bob, I know you mean well, but trying to use this thing inside my head is like asking a Neanderthal to surf the internet. I don’t have anyone to teach me. I doubt even the Coven could help," she said. Bob wisely decided to drop the subject.

  “What can you tell us about the dungeon seed, Billy?” Bob deferred to the Loser’s expert on everything related to dungeons and Essence.

  “Basically, it's quite similar to the seeds we find in our Brotonville Train Station-if you take one into a dungeon and defeat its Core and Bosses, it will absorb all the Essence released by the dying instance, creating a new one in its place.” Billy fidgeted nervously in his seat; he was not used to being asked for his opinion.

  “But it won’t have the same tags as ours. Brotonville seeds guarantee symbiotic and reproductive tags, while this one has two new ones: Progression and Surprise!”

  “Surprise!? This thing has a tag called Surprise!?” Jenna exclaimed incredulously. “It sounds like whoever created it is mocking us.”

  “That could very well be the case,” Bob agreed. “And it means more than it appears. We can safely assume this originated from the Coven of Immortals. Someone there can create new dungeon tags, similar to what Billy does.”

  “Everything makes sense when viewed from that perspective. These seeds are essentially weapons. They somehow generate the essence cores that the progressors are using. Their purpose seems to be to provide experience for the invaders, allowing them to level up while their enemies remain at their current level,” Jenna added.

  “Is there any way we could use the essence cores? They are solidified experience, even if only progressors can use them directly.”

  “I’m sure I could incorporate them as ingredients in a Tastecraft perk,” Bob replied, “if only my ability to create them wasn't locked. We can think our way through this problem, but we’ll need many more essence cores to experiment with. And we have hit the jackpot with Discovery’s house. There is something on the upper floor that could considerably ease all my experiments in Tastecraft.”

  “A kitchen?” asked Jenna.

  “Much better. A laboratory. I could use it to create alchemical products. Tastecraft is not limited to cooking. It can recreate any edible substance as long as it has a taste.”

  “This is huge, Jenna.” Billy wrapped his arms around his knees. “So what you're saying is that these progression dungeons can convert essence into experience. We can’t use this experience for ourselves, but the implications are enormous.

  "You have been studying the seed, Billy. Have you absorbed the new tags?" Jenna asked him.

  “No, Jenna, I can’t. The Surprise! tag makes the core immune to any attempt to study it. I don’t know what the Surprise is. I only know it is a delayed effect. The dungeon needs some time to manifest the tag.”

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  "The plan for today is clear," Bob said, standing up and collecting the used dishes. "We need to travel to the new dungeon that has replaced the Guzzler’s Den. If we are correct, we should be able to find essence cores there. Our goal is to gather as many as we can and study them."

  They were en route to their destination five minutes later.

  The path to the remnants of the Guzzler’s den felt much less cheerful than on Billy and Jenna’s previous trip.

  The figure of the fake Discovery loomed much larger than before, prattling incessantly about how everything was under control, and the government was working to make it even more controlled than it already was, if possible.

  They decided the Cores would probably be safer if they left them at Discovery’s house. Taking the seed into a dungeon was not a good idea.

  People were afraid. A tired shopkeeper tried to explain to an angry client that they had already run out of groceries.

  Onlookers watched the river with apprehension; catching sight of the River Dragon was once considered a sign of good fortune. Now it had transformed into a subaquatic titan, made of fury and resentment.

  Bob noticed that there were no boats on the river. No one dared to sail while that beast was roaming its waters.

  "We may have just made the situation worse by trying to help," Billy sighed. "It seems to be our brand lately."

  "That's not true, Billy," Bob replied. "The river dragon was the last remaining boss; the Endless River would have collapsed with its death. The Beli way of life is based on the river. They will have to catch or restrain that beast eventually, but letting it die would have had much more severe consequences."

  Although sailing on the river was no longer safe, it remained a viable means of transportation. The banks had been enhanced with spatial distortion magic, allowing slower yet still effective travel across Belona. Bob used the extra time to explain his findings to Billy and Jenna.

  “Belona underwent Activation Day seven generations ago. The system they use is entirely different from Earth’s. Their Experientials aren’t called Avatars; they’re called Players, and they use a system based on magical cards called Arcana that are imprinted on their souls.”

  Bob had to sidestep to avoid a family of four headed in the opposite direction. The two kids looked no older than six, and all of them appeared scared—an expression Bob recognized as identical to that of Chicagoans when everything began to fall apart.

  He continued his speech. “Their power is measured by the number of Arcana they have. Each Arcana is roughly the equivalent of one Avatar level.”

  Jenna became excited and bombarded him with questions: “But how do they get their cards? Can they swap them for others? Can they create new cards? How do they increase their stats? How do…”

  Bob stopped her. Such enthusiasm could only come from a deck-building aficionado.

  “The answer to all your questions is cards.

  “Belona is built on cards. Deck magic made it possible. When Discovery accepted Immortality, at the request of her people, and gave the Icosahedron away, new cards ceased to appear, leading to the city's decline.”

  “That explains the signs of decay,” Jenna added. “But why did some parts of Belona fail while others continued to function?”

  “Thanks to Discovery,” Bob explained as they encountered a large crowd blocking their way. “She perfected dungeon-taming to a fine art—dungeons are now the heart and soul of Belona’s economy.

  If she had not intervened, the people of Belona would now be scattered tribes, hiding in mud huts from monsters emerging from the dungeons. That is the same fate that awaits Earth if Necessity takes the Icosahedron away from Dignity. Let’s never forget that.”

  “Doesn’t Belona have any more Players?” asked Billy.

  “Only about a hundred of them remain, and all of them are quite high-level Players. Just like Avatars, when a Player acquires many Arcana, the aging process slows down or can even be completely halted,” Bob explained.

  “This was seven generations ago. Only those players who were powerful enough to resist aging when the system became locked are still alive. The weakest among them has 48 Arcana.”

  By then, the crowd ahead thickened enough to reveal what everyone was staring at.

  Beli guards were trying to keep an excited crowd away from a vast rift in the air; an exotic jungle lay on the other side.

  A public officer was giving a grandiloquent speech, often signaling to three persons posted at the dungeon's entrance. One was a tall, gaunt man with a well-groomed beard, well into his sixties. The other was an attractive youngster no more than twenty years old. The third person was short, stocky, and totally bald, carrying a huge knapsack that looked as if it weighed more than he did.

  “...As you can see, the government has spared no effort to investigate this matter and rectify the situation. I present to you the greatest heroes to ever wield cards in the service of Belona: Garan the Relentless and Vlas the Dashing, whose exploits are legendary…”

  “...and Useful Pob,” the porter interrupted.

  “...and Useful Pob,” the speaker added as an afterthought.

  “Many of you have read about them in the Troubles Chronicles. Who was there to face the Black Plain Tribulation when it threatened to devour our ancestors? Garan of the Relentless and Vlas the Dashing started that very same day to build their...”

  “...and Useful Pob,” the porter interrupted again.

  “...and Useful Pob, indeed. You can rest easier tonight knowing that these two heroes, father and son, will watch over...”

  “...and Useful Pob,” he insisted.

  “Yes! And bloody Useful Pob!” the speaker shouted. At that moment, the elder of the two heroes chose to interrupt.

  “Citizens of Belona, I know you are afraid. I want you not to lose hope. Belona already stood once against the Apocalypse and...”

  “Shut up, Vlas,” the younger Player told him curtly. “That was enough public relations for one day. Let’s get down to business.”

  “Whatever you say, father,” the older man answered with undisguised contempt.

  “What the hell is happening?” Jenna whispered in his ear.

  “Those two are powerful Players from the time of the Apocalypse,” Bob explained.

  “The younger-looking one is the father. The porter is Useful Pob, who also appears in the Chronicles. He’s a Sancho Panza-type figure—loyal squire to the young hero, that sort of thing. He is also a Player.”

  Bob noticed Billy's sad demeanor. The scene was very similar to the one between Stompy and her mother when they first entered Babylon. He was still mourning the loss of his friend.

  The speech did affect the crowd. Most were ecstatic. They certainly had a lot of faith in the trio.

  “Give us the Den back, Garan!” shouted a matronly female.

  “I named him after you, Vlas,” a young mother said, holding a toddler up in her arms.

  “We love you, Useful Bop!” shouted a seven-year-old kid, getting the name wrong. Then the trio entered the rift.

  "This is going to be tricky," Jenna said. "There are too many guards and people around, making it difficult to get in. We also need to consider those three; we don’t know how they might react if they find us. They could see us as enemies. Let’s wait for the crowd to disperse. Maybe an opportunity will present itself."

  They waited for an hour, but the crowd did not thin at all. They had come here for the show, and they were determined to wait until it was finished.

  “This is just a waste of time,” Jenna said, “maybe we should try another approach…what the hell is that?”

  An enormous centaur-like beetle, covered in rune-engraved chitin armor, emerged from inside the Dungeon and entered Belona. It held in one of its six arms a grisly trophy: the battered and broken corpse of Vlas the Dashing.

  The crowd fell silent, as if someone had flipped a switch.

  The monster raised the corpse until it was level with its single eye, which blazed red in the center of its head. Then it contemptuously hurled the body at the crowd.

  The switch was flipped on again. Everyone started screaming at once and ran in panic, overwhelming the guards. The beast threw one last glance at the fleeing Beli and returned to the dungeon.

  “We are not getting a better chance,” hissed Jenna. “Let’s go inside it.”

  And they did.