Milc/C.J. Milnes
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Chapter 14 - Safe Word.
🕑 Added 2025-06-10 23:33:58 +0000 UTCThe beige bot introduced itself by ranting at me about transdimensional flux capacity load carriers, then started crying after I coated it in acid. It turned into an arm and rocket punched its way out of the room through the ceiling vent, just like Red had.
Pink asked me about my feelings, then gave me a quick lecture on consent as the acid ate into its face. It turned into another leg and flew off. The Cyan dildo-bot offered me fashion advice. As a being who only wore a single piece of clothing, a mere neckerchief, I was beginning to get sick of these idiots. Acid sprayed, and I got a complaint about how difficult it is to dry clean a twenty-foot-tall mech.
“Well, that was moderately horrific. Are all the mini-bosses going to be like this?” I asked as I nudged the chest, and the lid swung up.
Chest discovered.
Rolling for contents…
Congratulations Dungeoneer!
Item: Sanctified Shit Tickets (roll) x1
Item: Paperback copy of the Karma Sutra (illustrated) x1
Item: Perginald Blakely’s Aura Extractor x1
Currency gained: 407 GC
“Another dud,” I grumbled. I had made back the money I’d spent to open the level several times over, but the loot was subpar on the occasions it wasn’t just plain weird.
“Mind if I borrow that book?” Kat asked casually, and I fixed her with a purple eye. “What? A girl has needs, lizard!”
“Help yourself, after we finish the floor here. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume the four sex toy mechas I just melted are going to combine with the boss into some kind of super-giant sex toy bot?” I grumbled, making my way back towards the central chamber.
“That would be a good bet. This system is so stupid sometimes. On the plus side, we’ve got a few items we can pass off to Tex, and you’ve made your money back,” she said, patting me on the neck like I was a well-behaved pony. I suppressed an urge to snap at her. It seemed that the ascot didn’t catch all my emotions.
We stopped outside the boss's room. The massive steel door was locked in place with some kind of spinny-thing, the sort of device you’d see sealing a hatch in an old submarine movie.
“Just acid the pricks and let’s get this done,” Kat grumbled as she hunkered down behind my frill of horns. I touched the wheel, and the sound of whirring gears filled the corridor. The door clacked open a couple of inches, and a wash of steam erupted around me. I blinked and stepped forward. As soon as I was inside, the door slammed shut behind me, and more clanking noises informed me we were now locked in. The space was vast, much larger than the previous rooms.
The gnarly sci-fi props still lined the walls, but they faded away into the distance. I moved forward cautiously, but nothing moved. No dildo wielding mega-bot leapt out to blungeon with an artificial dong, or accost me with rants about their feelings, lack thereof, or boring pseudo-science.
“Why haven’t we got a–”
B-B-Boss Battle! Prepare to face Doltrons' Final Form!
Five mini-bots will transform and blow your mind (literally, if they can pin you down for long enough).
Good luck, Dungeoneer!
“Ew. What the fu–”
“I know, right?” Kat muttered. Give it a second. They always drag this bit out, like the attention-seeking drama queens that they are.
Rumbles echoed out all around us, and the final mini-bot rose from the ground on some kind of lift. Smoke billowed around it, and the mech struck a pose, both arms outstretched in a vaguely sacrilegious fashion, then fell into a fighting stance.
“Dragon! Now you will face your end!” bellowed a voice from within the mechsuit.
“Hurry the fuck up, Shinji,” I grumbled, crossing my arms across my chest.
“Now my companions will unite with the Black Doltron to form Mega-Dolt!” I yawned loudly.
“Are you going to take this seriously?” The bot snapped, crossing his arms.
“Oh, sorry. Go on. Do your thing, dude. Just, can you hurry it up a bit, please?”
The mech retook his pose, grumbling quietly under his breath, and then he leapt into the air, spinning slowly in place as slabs of armour shifted around. The legs folded up to lie against the sides of its torso, the arms locking down on top of them. The now limbless torso floated on a column of actinic fire that made me snigger. Kat slapped me on the head.
From a distance, the flying limbs arrived, clicking into place to add the legs and arms. It fell to the ground with a clang and struck yet another pose as a helmet folded up over the black one's head.
“Doltron, assemble!” Five very annoying voices cried out. I straightened my ascot and leapt into the air as they plodded towards me. Bigger and slower, the machine was now a lumbering brute.
“Fisting module, activate!” called the voice of the black one. The hand on the left arm curled into a fist, and something oozed out of the wrist until it glistened horribly. I flapped to gain some speed and circled round to land briefly on the left shoulder. No way was I letting the thing run around with that hand for a second longer than I had to.
My claws dug in, and I pulled one of the pauldron plates away just enough to poke my nose in. I could see tubes and gears, strange pistons hissed and strained as the thing spun around to try and spot me again. I poured acid down into the gubbins and threw myself off just as the other hand slapped down where I’d been a moment before.
The beige left arm slumped as I swooped away, and smoke poured out of the damaged joint. The mech launched into the air on twin columns of fire from his jet-feet. It spun and attempted to axe-kick me out of the air, but I dodged with a lazy flick of one wing.
“Foul beast!” screamed Red. “Black, activate the Mega Kick!”
“Where did it go?” called Black. “I can’t see him anywhere?” The machine spun in circles looking for me. I’d seen some old movies, back in my time on Earth. I’d done a Millennium Falcon, and attached myself to the things back, claws digging in, as it had tried to air-juggle me.
I crept slowly lower, until I could snake my neck past the thing's armoured buttocks. I ignored the unnecessary orifices. More acid spewed into the delicate point where the mini-bots joined together.
“Shit!” yelled Black. The whole mech keeled over backwards. “I’ll crush you, you worm!” I threw myself to the machine's left side, taking advantage of the already crippled limb as it landed flat on its back.
“I’ll kill you!” Red screamed as the right arm attempted to drag itself towards where I’d landed several metres away. The robot tried to get back up, but its left leg fell off. Pink started crying.
“Scrambled pumpkins!” the broken leg screamed over and over again. I shrugged and moved in for the kill.
“But I said the safe word!” sobbed the ruined limb.
I phased out the rest of their babbling and screaming, moving from joint to joint and pouring acid over anything that looked important. It took me another twenty minutes, but eventually the robot finally grew still.
“Is that it?” I whispered, not wanting to elicit another bout of crying and cursing.
Floor Boss slain!
Congratulations dungeoneer!
Rolling for loot…
Item: House of Delights Happy Ending Token x1
Currency gained: 756 GC
“Thank Christ,” I muttered, poking at the lewd voucher for an unknown massage parlour.
“Yeah. Doltron sucks. Hopefully, the next floor will just be horrible Lovecraftian nightmares that want to eat our faces,” Kat moaned. “Next one?” she asked a bit more brightly. “I could do with a monster flavoured pallette cleanser after that shit.”
“No. I don’t think I can handle another one right now.” I glared at the smoking robot. “Not even anything to eat this time round,” I complained.
“What do you want to use the floor for?” Kat asked as I made my way back towards the staircase.
“What’s the options?” I asked.
“Roughly, they break down into residential, agricultural, industrial, and recreational. Do you need me to explain what those big words mean?”
“No thanks, Kat. How about we make it recreational? Tennis courts and stuff? Maybe a bowling alley?” I wondered.
“Not so much. It’s not really worth going with a recreational floor at this point. Agriculture or industry is probably a better choice. Food and its associated by-products, such as skins, or, in the case of industry, refining and manufacturing facilities. What grabs your fancy?”
“Why am I making these decisions? You’re the dungeon sprite,” I grumbled as we climbed the stairs.
“You’ll need to sign off on the expenses, bud. Agriculture will be cheaper, before you ask, but we’ll need to hire more minions and get some animals to start the herd. I assume you aren’t going to want to grow plants for food?” I snorted at her question.
“You got that right. Carnivore diet all the way, girl. I think food is the right option. Unless the Dwelvers have found anything interesting?”
“Nothing as yet, but there are miles of tunnels to explore. I’m sure they’ll let us know if they stumble on anything good.”
We emerged back into the lair, and I grinned at my newly expanded hoard. Nice and comfy.
Dungeon Status:
Unnamed Dungeon.
Level: 1
Floors: 2 (Residential) (TBD)
Rooms: 2
Sprite level: 1
Minions: 4/15
Hoard: 4146 GC
“I guess it really is worth clearing more floors. How much do you need to set up a farm and hire some extra minions?”
“Two hundred for the construction and another hundred for the minions. The Janglebonks are terrible at animal husbandry, and I dread to think what the Dwelvers would do with unfettered access to animals. Hang on a second…” Her eyes defocused as she accessed her menus. “Righto. Not much of a choice. It’s going to have to be Greebles. There are three of them on the Core Market.” Kat finished, and three small beings appeared behind her.
They had two arms and two legs, which was a step up from the Janglebonks. The tiny humanoids were covered in short fur that came in a variety of colours and patterns. They stood four feet tall and were almost as broad.
“What’s the crack, boss?” said one of them from behind an impressive array of whiskers.
“You did that really well, Kernu. Very professional,” opined one of his companions.
“Aye, like a proper minion. I’m proud of you, lad. Not seen an introduction like that since me and old Bonty got picked for Shallagrimp the Blacks dungeon,” added the third.
“You never went to the Dankest Dungeon! You’re such a liar, Hango!” snapped Kermu, rounding on the shortest of them. “You’re last three jobs were Barbuticus the Bald’s Salon of Doom, Bompa’s Dungeon of Fun, and Shergar's Magical Racecourse!”
“This was before your time,” said Hango, sagely. “You weren’t even a hatchling when I was out minioning. You should show proper respect for your elders, Greebling!” My tongue flicked out to taste the air. They didn’t smell like they would be delicious, but I found myself with a powerful urge to eat them anyway. I straightened my ascot, fought down the temptation, and coughed. They stopped arguing for a moment and looked up at me in silence.
“See what you’ve done, Kernu? You’ve pissed off the boss already! Lola’s Balls, Greeble. A classic, proper, and dignified opener ruined because you don’t show respect where it’s due! What a disappointment you are to the college!” My head flicked back and forth like I was watching tennis as they fell to squabbling once more.
“Kat?” I whispered.
“Hmm?” she said, eyes bouncing from one tiny hairy whinger to another as they continued to bicker.
“I’m going to go for a snooze. If those little shits aren’t out of here before I settle down, I’m going to eat one of them. Do your thing, dungeon sprite!” She stuck her tongue out at me, then sprinted up the nearest one's leg and launched a perfect rising uppercut into the poor creature's groin. It squeaked, went cross-eyed, and fell to the floor, clutching at itself. I smiled and slid over to my hoard as Kat began screaming at them and kicking them towards the hatch. Finding good help was so hard to do these days.
