Jasson woke slowly to agony and resumed what his torn throat had been trying to say.
"Medkit!"
His voice. It must have been his voice only because it came from his mouth. It was raw, disintegrating, and it would have been ecstatic to see Charon if only for an end.
"Hey," A deep voice said, "Look at you. Looks like you won't need to pay the guild two coppers for healing anymore."
Jasson coughed and spewed neutralized acid from his lungs, then blinked at the figure above him.
"Grog?" Jasson said, because that was the only possible conclusion to something so big speaking fluent English. Or…Greenish. Whatever.
"In the flesh," Grog laughed, "And steel. And bronze. Good amount of flux as well. What? You don't have to sound so surprised. You did break the jar."
Jasson focused on Grog before his eyes were drawn away from the living mountain. Grog was wearing…
Power armor?! Jasson thought.
Bronze armor pieced together and was covered in glinting lines of glass-like Flux that glittered in a vibrant array of magical crystals. It bent and twisted around his enormous form, gears whirring with the occasional burst of steam. The whole assembly would have hummed if it wasn't so busy ticking and creaking with power.
"Isn't that…overkill?" Jasson said.
Grog burst out laughing and said, "I wish. Come on, boy. I have a job for yo-"
The tunnel rumbled, and the ceiling crumbled slightly, forcing Jasson to weakly dodge a crap crusted brick. Forcing himself to his feet, Jasson looked past Grog. The entrance to the tunnel was blocked by what looked like a folding wall of paper. An origami shield made of iron. And it was dissolving slowly.
He has a job for me? Jasson thought. Probably being bait again. I'd…I'm not up for that.
"I need to…do something?" Jasson shifted, "I thought you were supposed to handle this."
"I'm the Guild Master," Grog said, "Not an Arch Mage. Although, even they would have some trouble. Given the circumstances."
Grog chuckled and thumped Jasson on the back with his free hand, saying, "Gotta hold myself back. After all, I'd like to avoid destroying the city. Now come on, it is not much. I saw the scars of an enormous blast of fire. That wasn't Dockson, so I'm guessing it was you?"
"Yeah," Jasson said, "Umm…just one more, though."
"That's perfect," Grog reached over to the shield and slid open a tiny hatch, "The eyes are vulnerable to sizzling. Now, on three."
"Wait," Jasson said, pulling out his phone, "I have to get the app up."
"No time to wait," Grog motioned to the crumbling iron, "One, two, thre-"
The iron shield buckled inward and Grog was thrown against the wall. Jasson held up his phone and desperately tried to sign in. His finger was wet. The camera was wet. The screen was wet.
Rough slimy scales streamed into the enclosure and Jasson was thrown aside, phone skittering out of his hands. The fangs on the creature caught on Jasson's shirt and dragged him deeper, crushing the air out of his lungs. Jasson felt himself grow faint, and he tried to pull his bag closer to him.
One of the fangs dragging Jasson caught, banging against the walls. Slamming him into the side-tunnel entrance so hard, a chunk broke off, the wind knocked out of Jasson in perfunctory measure. He gasped for air as the world whipped around, back and forth, like a dog with its toy.
When the world stilled, Jasson was hanging ten feet in the air. Dangling from the basilisk's mouth, his shirt now caught on the back teeth.
But he had both hands free.
Jasson reached into his bag and pulled out and pocketed a spare magazine of ammunition. 45 ACP. Jasson threw his bag to the side and scrambled at his belt. With his shirt pulled up and supporting his weight, Jasson drew the gun from its concealed belt holster. It was definitely a smaller caliber than he wanted at the moment. He would have preferred a tank.
Struggling, Jasson raised his gun to point up. The shirt slipped as Jasson fought the instinct to aim. To look and be turned to stone. It was roughly snake shaped. The eye would be up there…somewhere. Hopefully not in a weird spot.
BANG! BANG-BANG!
Jasson squeezed off three shots in quick succession. The pistol lurched wildly in his hand with each pull, the shots ringing in his ears. Boiling hot blood spilled on his skin. The basilisk hissed violently and shook its head, whipping Jasson like a dog with its toy. Jasson fought to keep himself in his shirt, while continuing to fire wildly above himself. He screamed as the blood covered him, scalding his skin. Something hit his back with crushing force, but he couldn't heal. If he tried he'd have to drop his-
Click-click-click
Jasson blinked, pain racking through his body. Out of bullets. Shirt torn. No longer hanging from the snake.
What? Jasson thought, When did that happen?!
It felt like he was lifting the world, but Jasson managed to sit up. He was lying in a shallow crater of shattered stone. It stretched and ended with where he lay. Almost like he had been the one to form it instead of being dashed to pieces on the stones. He should do something. Heal?
Sluggishly, Jasson reached into his pocket as the sewer shook and felt the crystal, then said, "Medkit."
A bout of nausea filled him, and Jasson's vision swam briefly before coming into focus. Jasson looked up, struggling to focus as his gaze was drawn to the movement. Too late, Jasson remembered to not look. His eyes locked reflexively on the right eye of the basilisk, and Jasson froze. Transfixed.
Its eye was gone. Or rather, it was in pieces and covered by clotting blood, mangled by a lucky shot. Or three.
The Basilisk writhed and whipped its tail against the walls blindly, shaking the sewers. Jasson looked away from the eye just in time to incoherently gaze at the massive stone blocks crashing down on him.
A shadow covered Jasson, protecting him, and Jasson focused lethargically on the figure above. Grog batted aside the stones and looked Jasson in the eyes.
"Sorry, boy." Grog said, grimacing, "The good news is that the city should be safe if I collapse the tunnel. You should run. I can't fight it properly if I can't look at it, and you'd only be getting in the way."
"Firstly," Jasson swayed as he held up his finger, frowning drunkenly, "You have all that but don't have a mirror?"
"A mirror?" Grog frowned, "This isn't a medusa. A mirror will just paralyze you."
Jasson frowned and said, "Why not two mirrors, then? Never mind. Secondly, I shot out one of its eyes."
Jasson pointed to the bleeding side of the monster's face, and Grog hesitated, then looked Jasson up and down.
Grog said, "Alright. I believe you."
Grog turned, and whistled. Then he laughed, a booming sound that echoed across the sewers.
"Will you look at that," Grog said, his armor whirring and spouting steam as magic sparked across the length, "You did it boy. One eye is more than enough for me."
The Basilisk turned to the sound of laughter, and Grog exploded out in a whirring of machines, leaving a trail of sparks as he sprinted. Before the Basilisk could use its good eye on them, Grog Rammed into the side of its head, driving the monster into the tunnel wall. The tunnel shook, and Jasson dodged falling rocks as Grog bounced off like a living wrecking ball.
The Basilisk roared and whipped its head to snap at Grog, dripping fangs closing around the Guild Master.
Grog caught the fangs, one in each hand, and growled, "Neutralizer- Acid 4."
An enormous cloud of white powder exploded from some compartment and engulfed the two of them. The Basilisk wheezed on the white powder, and Grog stepped back from the bite. Grog rounded to the blind side of the head and reared back.
Grog slammed a dusty fist into the Basilisk's skull, right beside the sightless eye, sending the monster's head careening into the tunnel wall again.
Enormous stones, the tunnel itself, crashed down around them and pummeled into the stunned monster.
"Come on you!" Grog said, getting into a boxer's stance, "Not so savvy without your tricks, eh?"
Grog punched the Basilisk again as it fell to the ground. Then again. And again. It devolved into a blurred fury of blows as Grog cut off every retreat and attack and blazing magic and brass.
Boom-boom-boom!
Finally, the Basilisk fell to the ground, limp. Grog clapped his hands together, then pulled them apart to reveal a giant sword. Grog walked up to the blinded eye and plunged the blade up to the hilt. Then Grog stood back and raised his fist. With a final blow, he pounded the entire blade through the head and into the tunnel floor.
"Nailed it," Grog held up a thumb.
The Basilisk thrashed, head jerking against the sword as its body whipped against the tunnel sides. The world rumbled as the death throes beat into the earth.
Grog snatched up Dockson's statue and sprinted down the tunnel shouting, "Run boy! This area's coming down."
Jasson struggled to his feet and watched Grog pass him. Then Jasson turned away from Grog. From the exit. There was still an unpunished party.
"KEEP UP!" Grog shouted, turning back, "Or- guess I gotta carry you-"
Jasson sprinted for the side tunnel, through the crumbling rubble. To where the enemy had disappeared. The one that had caused all of this. The one that had killed Dockson by bringing these monsters here.
"What are you doing?!" Grog materialized beside Jasson as he leapt over a tumbling pile of rubble, "You'll DIE!!"
A brick caught Jasson on the leg and sent him stumbling to the side. Another chunk of ceiling fell toward him and Jasson pushed himself away, tumbling to the ground as the ceiling exploded against the floor. Shrapnel pelted his side as a sudden force grabbed the back of his shirt. Grog picked Jasson up and with one bounding step, brought them into the side tunnel.
Grog dropped Jasson from an irritated height, and Jasson wheezed, rolling over. Grog set Dockson down. The collapsing tunnel roared behind them, tumbling in, and Grog opened his locker and pulled out what looked like a collapsible fan. He unfurled it and it expanded into an iron shield, just like the one from before. Grog jammed it in the opening, and the sound of the tunnel collapsing onto it hammered like thunder.
"Well," Grog said, "I hope you have a good reason for this, boy."
"Yeah," Jasson groaned and stood up, "I do."
The damage to his leg didn't seem to have broken it, and Jasson felt that healing himself would only make his headache worse. He hobbled over to the door, and gave the handle a tap. A brief burst of flame erupted.
"Can you-" Jasson turned to Grog and motioned to the door, "No, you're right. It's my idea."
Jasson ejected the spent pistol magazine and fished in his pocket for the replacement. He slammed the new one into place and racked the slide back, loading a bullet into the chamber. Jasson shot the lock on the door, then the door handle. He kicked the door, then shot the lock again.
Jasson kicked the door a few more times. Almost there.
Grog said, "What's gotten into you?"
"Vengeance," Jasson said shortly, then shot the lock again. With a final kick, the door splintered open.
Jasson and Grog passed through.
****
Larethos, the god of roads, crossed his arms as Kami took his finger off of the proverbial scales of fate.
Larethos said, "That is cheating."
"It is not," Kami said, smiling guiltily, "He should have had access to this by now. He's made an honorable sacrifice, and so I am merely giving him the boost he should have had."
"Honorable sacrifice?" Larethos said, "Do you mean when he avoided crashing the country's economy?"
Kami said, "Selling all of those crystals would have given him more than enough. He would have already had the app and found those Levels waiting to be claimed."
"Oh?" Larethos said, "And can you guarantee that he would have put all of his Level Points into durability, health, and selected the highly specific 'acid resistance perk'? How very far-sighted of him. I should recruit him as a Scout."
"He didn't," Kami shifted, "He almost died from it. That gives him resistance. That's not even special to…him…fine."
Kami groaned, "What did we bet on again?"