The Sparrowhawk Player charged Sync while dumping rounds from his Tommy gun. They tore up the planter next to her, but it kept her from getting hit again. She fired a few quick rounds back, stalling his advance but not hitting him.
After what felt like an eternity, the elevator dinged, and Sync yanked the gate open, dove into it, and slammed her feathered hand against the top floor button.
Sync began to push the metal gate shut, but the Sparrowhawk Player reached the elevator and wedged his arm in the gap. As he angled his Tommy gun to shoot her, Sync shoved the gate with all her strength, pinning the Sparrowhawk’s arm in place.
He squawked in pain as Sync switched to her sawed-off shotgun. She unloaded both barrels and blasted his shoulder.
The Sparrowhawk’s arm tore off in a spray of feathers, sparkles, and birdlike shrieking. With the gate no longer blocked, Sync pushed it shut, and the elevator began to ascend.
She used a Health Pack. The glittering stopped, and her wounds faded to nothing as she broke open the shotgun and reloaded both barrels.
I just need to reach the Godfeather and turn myself in for the reward. If she couldn’t reach him, she’d have to surrender to his underlings and hope they didn’t blast her away. She was worth far more alive.
The elevator shuddered and came to a sudden stop on the thirtieth floor. The top level was still three floors away. She used her WHIM and hacked the elevator controls.
Since her class-stealing ability wasn’t truly a feature of the AllVerse, and since she was one of the Godfeather targets yet also technically a Godfeather herself, Lucretia seemed to struggle with how to handle her invading and also not invading the headquarters. It was an exploit, but she couldn’t be sure how long it would actually last.
She growled at her feathered fingers, which made typing much harder, but she managed to override the lockdown. The old elevator shuddered again and ascended to the thirty-third floor.
“Spiral staircase,” she muttered, reminding herself what Junior had said.
She clutched her sawed-off shotgun and held it at the ready. The doors slid open to a palatial hallway adorned with white marble and golden trim. Two Godfeather Players turned toward her, weapons in hand but not raised.
She reacted faster than they did.
Sync unloaded both barrels, yielding twin bursts of feathers and sparkles from the Players. She killed one, and he disappeared in a burst of feathers and sparkles, leaving behind only a loot crate. The one who’d survived, a Black-Legged Seriema, was wounded, but he drew a snub nose revolver and shot five quick rounds at her.
Sync dodge-rolled and swapped her weapon to a Tommy gun. She returned fire but still got hit again in the abdomen. Instead of groaning, she hooted involuntarily.
| -177 HP |
Click. Click.
The Seriema Player had emptied his revolver but only managed to land one shot, albeit a good one. He cursed as he fumbled to reload, and Sync unleashed the full fury of her Tommy gun on him.
He warbled and utilized a Health Pack, just like she had, and his HP crept back up. Even so, Sync kept shooting and drained his HP faster than he could restore it, and he eventually burst into feathers and sparkles and dropped a loot crate.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Sync clutched her abdomen and hobbled up to the loot crate. She pilfered some more ammo for her revolver, an Energy Booster Pack, and a Health Pack. She used one and regained her full HP, leaving her one more, thanks to the one Erik had given her.
The other elevators all dinged. The doors retracted, and several more Godfeather Players poured out. One of them was Icarus.
“I told you she’d come here, you feather-brained morons,” he screeched and pointed with his feathery finger. “Get her! Get her now!”
Gunfire erupted behind Sync as she sprinted toward the spiral stairs. She took hits to her back and legs, but nothing fatal. Red numbers floated in her HUD, and she hooted in pain.
| -99 HP |
| -25 HP |
| -71 HP |
If she’d had wings like most of the other Godfeathers, this would’ve been a lot easier. She was so close—she just needed to make it up the stairs. She limped onward, spilling glitter with each step, but she managed to climb to the last floor as bullets thumped into the stairs and walls around her.
Sync stumbled forward and crashed through the dark walnut doors, stumbling to a stop inside the office of the Godfeather himself.
A Rockhopper Penguin in a tuxedo turned to face her, cigar in his beak and a glass of scotch in hand, catching her by surprise. The feathers dangling from the sides of his head were slicked back, pinned to his head like hair.
He sat at an enormous old desk, reclining in a comfortable chair. She’d expected another bird of prey, like the rest of the Godfeathers had been so far, so the sight of a penguin confused her at first. Then it made sense—the tuxedo. With his hair feathers slicked back and the tuxedo, he was dressed like—
“Close the doors,” he muttered. Coupled with his appearance, his voice gave the impression that this was actually Marlon Brando as the Don… but also a penguin.
Sync quickly moved to shut the doors behind her. The last thing she saw was Icarus descending toward her, wings spread like an owl-headed avenging angel, his dark empty eyes fixed upon her. But the doors latched, shutting him out, and the sounds of gunfire outside stopped, replaced by a furious banging on the door.
“Don’t worry about them. Nobirdie can get inside unless I wish it so,” the Godfeather explained.
Sync exhaled a relieved breath, yet she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. “I’m… here to collect the bounty.”
“What have I ever done to make you treat me so disrespectfully?” the Godfeather asked.
Trying to have her killed on multiple occasions ranked pretty highly on Sync’s list, but she wouldn’t get anywhere with that line of thinking.
“You come to me and you say, ‘give me the bounty.’ But you don’t ask with respect. You don’t offer friendship. You don’t even think to call me Godfeather,” the Godfeather continued. “Instead, you come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married, and you ask me to do murder, for money.”
“No, no,” Sync said as she limped over to him, trying to recall this scene from the movie. She nearly fell from her injuries but caught herself on his desk, streaking glitter across its shiny surface. This was the moment of truth. “What do you want of me? Tell me anything. But do what I beg you to do.”
The Godfeather dabbed his cigar into the ashtray on his desk and leaned back, regarding her.
“We’ve known each other many years, but this is the first time you came to me for counsel, for help,” the Godfeather said. “I can’t remember the last time that you invited me to your house for a cup of coffee, even though my wife is godmother to your only child. But let’s be frank here: you never wanted my friendship. And you were afraid to be in my debt.”
Absolutely none of that was true, but it was part of this game—or perhaps Lucretia was talking through the Godfeather… Sync couldn’t be sure, but for now, all she could do was play along. “I didn’t want to get into trouble.”
“I understand. You found paradise in the AllVerse, had a good trade, made a good living. The police protected you; and there were courts of law. And you didn’t need a friend like me. Had you come to me in friendship, then this bounty would already be yours this very day.
“And if, by chance, an honest owl such as yourself should make enemies, then they would become my enemies.” He paused, seemingly for effect, then added, “And then they would fear you.”
Sync knew her line. “Be my friend… Godfeather?”
The Godfeather’s sullen expression became a smile. A new prompt appeared to select to turn Player Sync in alive for the reward, and she hit “Yes.”
| Objective Completed: Player Sync – Kill or Capture |
| Bonus Objective Completed: Capture Player Sync Alive |
| Reward: +$15,000 AllCash |
| +5,000 XP |
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break--Royal Road. They call us the Critical Hitters.
In the desolate desert of the North American Sector, the government harvests the Soul Energy of siblings Eos and Maxima in secret.
When their powers attract the attention of a dangerous criminal organization, their routine lives are shattered. Eos and Maxima must search for freedom and the truth about their past as hostile forces close in.
The answers they seek lie behind one word—!
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This time he refuses to fight alone, bringing a crew of misfits and a mech powerful enough to rewrite the war itself.
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Dungeon Crawler Carl Audio Immersion Tunnel for Soundbooth Theater, and he's the lead writer for the Dungeon Crawler Carl Role Playing Game.
