Discount Dan

I heard the sharp whirl of a motor start up as digital text flickered to life on a small screen. Welcome to the Backrooms! To access your Personal VIRUS Account, please place your bare hand on the palm reader, then select an option from the menu! There was a blue square light on the gray plastic console with the green outline of a handprint emblazoned on the surface. The green handprint blinked on and off at me like a winking eye.

Reluctantly, I peeled off one of my Mechanix gloves, shoved it into my tool belt, then complied. The scanner was warm against my skin and thrummed with faint energy. New words blinked onto the screen.

New user detected! Initializing account setup and VIRUS integration process. Please be patient, this will only take a few moments. Rest assured, any discomfort you feel is totally normal. Please note, side effects may include heart eruption, brain implosion, limb disfiguration, and catastrophic central nervous system failure. The Variant Research Division is not financially or legally culpable for any damage suffered while using the Progenitor Monolith.

Before I could even finish reading all the fine print, the motor whirled even more loudly, like a helicopter preparing for takeoff. There was a blindingly bright series of camera flashes, taking photos in rapid-fire succession. It was a dazzling spectacle that left me feeling like some famous celeb getting ambushed by a small army of paparazzi. At the same moment, a surge of electricity rushed up through my hand and took a lap along every single nerve ending in my body all at once.

During my early days as a general contractor, I’d been working at a site where some DIY-er had installed a series of overhead lights with the worst wiring job I’d ever seen. I’d been removing a section of damaged drywall and ended up connecting to an exposed live wire tucked away behind a stud. That wire had been a house fire waiting to happen, but instead of burning the place down, it sent electricity surging through my pry bar and into my hand.

I remembered the experience vividly, and this was just like that.

My muscles seized, my body convulsed, and the scent of cooking meat hung thick in my nose. Thanks to the searing pain throbbing in my right palm, it wasn’t hard to figure out where the aroma was coming from, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I’d metaphorically strapped myself to the back of an angry rodeo bull and now all I could do was hang on for the ride and hope this thing didn’t kill me or turn my brain into a bowl of hot mush.

After what felt like a thousand years, the power cut off and I dropped to my knees, gulping in greedy lungfuls of delicious air. Small curls of smoke rose from my hand and drifted up from my arms. My muscles ached and it felt like I’d been wrung out like a wet washcloth.

Curiously, however, a host of other minor issues had disappeared. I examined my chest and immediately saw that the bite mark from the toilet snake was no longer fresh and raw, but rather had turned into a faint circle of white scar tissue. With a wince, I jerked my hand away, but when I examined my palm, there wasn’t a mark on my skin. It wasn’t even red. Mystified, I struggled to my feet and looked down at the pad, fully expecting to see a layer of charred meat plastered to the surface of the palm reader.

But there was nothing.

I glanced at the tiny digital screen. There was a new message waiting for me.

Welcome to your Personal VIRUS Account, Dan Woodridge, Specimen Biotag ID #03A-01-B00R7T569C! You have successfully integrated with the Progenitor VIRUS (Variant Individual Registry Upgrade System, Iteration 21.2), brought to you by the Variant Research Division, Making Reality Better!

Although a small portion of Delvers experience some slight discomfort during the integration process, you have survived. Congratulations! Now that your neural framework and biological blueprint have been successfully scanned and registered with the Researcher and the Progenitor Core, you have full access to a host of new features, including the Subspace Storage System, the Research Department Job Board, and the Delver Interface Portal, which contains your Specimen Bio-Report (SBR).

To learn more, please use the Monolith Keypad to select an available option.

Subspace Storage System

Delver Interface Portal

Research Department Job Board

Learn About the Variant Research Project!

I scanned the menu, feeling a sense of relief that I was finally going to get a few answers.

Although every available option looked fascinating, I skipped down to option four—Learn About the Variant Research Project!—and mashed the button on the metallic keypad with one finger. The semitranslucent prompt screen I’d become so familiar with appeared, hovering just above the Monolith’s gray plastic exterior. Hope flickered, but then my smile turned to a frown as I read.

Whoops! Looks like you’ve attempted to access an obsolete or out-of-date section of the Delver Interface Portal. These files may have been restricted, deleted, or corrupted. If you’d like to attempt to recover these files, please visit one of the designated Research Labs located on the lower levels.

I skimmed the words once more with annoyance.

Why had I honestly expected this place to give me necessary, life-saving information without dicking me around first? Begrudgingly, I thumbed the number one—Subspace Storage System—hoping this option wasn’t broken as well. The error message was whisked away, and new information crawled across the floating screen.

Congratulations! As a fully integrated Delver, you can now access your personal Subspace Storage System, a unique inventory that allows you to store up to 2,000 pounds of physical material in a secure extradimensional space, accessible only by you. You may deposit or withdraw items from your Subspace Storage System at any time thanks to our handy-dandy “On-the-Go” Inventory Portal.

This intuitive system allows you to shred the fabric of space and time without breaking a sweat, storing any non-living items indefinitely. All Variant Subspace Storage Systems are time-locked, meaning any perishable items contained within will remain unspoiled until removed from Storage. To obtain a comprehensive, itemized list of all objects stored within your Subspace Storage System, please visit the Inventory Portal Tab at any available Monolith!

Would you like to view an itemized list of your Subspace Storage System? Yes/No

I selected yes, half-expecting the storage system to be empty, but was pleasantly surprised when a list of items materialized.

8 x Copper Delver Loot Token

5 x Copper Medic! Loot Token

1 x Copper Slayer Loot Token

1 x Copper Brawler Loot Token

1 x Silver Delver Loot Token

1 x Silver Medic! Loot Token

1 x Silver Elementalist Loot Token

1 x Gold Weaponsmith Loot Token

1 x Gold Ambassador Loot Token

1 x Diamond Sentinel Loot Token

1 x Ruby Warlord Loot Token

Current Weight: 1.75lbs/2,000 lbs

Huh. So that was where all the various Loot Tokens I’d earned had ended up.

I still didn’t know what they did or how to use them, but at least now I knew how to get my hands on ’em. With a thought, I selected one of the Copper Delver Loot Tokens. A small black rift, like a thin slice in reality itself, appeared in the air beside me. Suspended inside the rift was a single copper coin. Tentatively, I reached in—silently praying the rift didn’t snap closed and cut my arm off at the elbow—and pulled the item free.

It was copper and looked like a video game arcade token. On one side were the words Variant Research Division, Making Reality Better! On the other face was the picture of an eight-bit pick-axe encircled by the words Delver Loot Token - NO Cash Value. I held the coin tightly in my hand but the steady thrum that often emanated from Artifacts and Relics was absent and when I tried to examine the token further, nothing came up.

This was just a coin. An arcade token, like it said.

But if it really was an arcade token, then maybe there was some way to redeem it or use it. Turn it in for a prize, maybe. I’d have to ask Croc about that later.

Instead of pocketing the coin, I summoned the black rift in space-time once again and flicked the coin in. The void ate it up then vanished with a wink. I rechecked the itemized Storage list and noted that I had eight copper Delver Loot Tokens once again. Out of sheer curiosity, I reached down and did the same thing with the Zima bottle half full of water from the Lobby bathroom. It vanished into the black rift just the same as the coin, then a line item popped up on the inventory list.

Zima Bottle – Half Full (Water)

Everything about this place was terrible, but I had to admit that little party trick was almost worth the price of admission. I added a few other items from my pockets and tool belt into the Subspace Storage System. My Endless Roll of Wipe, the two extra Tinfoil Hat Relics, all eight of my Common Shards, and a handful of loose screws and nails, which had been rattling around in the bottom of an exterior pouch.

The important things I kept on hand, though.

All of my tools, the Zima healing elixir, the Slammer of Shielding, and, of course, the brass compass that had somehow fallen out of the Flayed Monarch’s Spatial Core. That I intended to use as soon as possible, but I needed to make a few adjustments before I could equip it. Even though I’d fully integrated with the VIRUS, I still didn’t have a high enough Perception or Resonance.

I was hoping the Delver Interface Portal option would help with that.

I jabbed the number 2 button on the keypad and my Inventory List vanished, replaced yet again by a new greeting message.

Welcome to your Delver Interface Portal, which contains your Specimen Bio-Report (SBR). The SBR is a comprehensive personal file that contains a host of useful biometric and meta-reality information, including current status conditions, comprehensive injury reports, and a list of all active Relics and Titles. Any Personal Enhancement Points, earned from level advancement, can also be distributed through the SBR tab, via a Monolith.

Would you like to view your SBR? Yes/No

I selected yes and the image on the screen changed.

A floating 3D avatar of myself appeared, visible only to my eyes, and beside it was a character sheet. Or a “Specimen Bio-Report” I guess—although I’d played enough DnD and RPG games to know a character sheet when I saw one. There was a general overview page, which held all of my basic and most pertinent information—name, race, attribute stats, and equipped Relics and Titles—and several other tabs that covered a wide range of additional information, such as my research achievements, status conditions, and a complete medical record.

And when I say complete, I mean complete.

It had details from the time I broke my arm in middle school and even the time I got a terrible staph infection after getting bitten by a camel spider in Iraq. On top of past injuries, it also tracked my current health conditions, including a comprehensive, real-time blood work panel that monitored everything from my glucose value to my electrolyte levels and flagged anything that was outside of the standard range. How this system had any of that information was beyond me, but it was certainly impressive.

After a quick scan, I moved on to the overview page, which contained the bulk of the relevant information.

Dan Woodridge

Specimen Biotag ID #03A-01-B00R7T569C

Variant Assimilation Level: 5

Race: Human, Archetypal

Current Experience: 3,715

Next Level: 4,250

Personal Enhancement Points: 20

__ __ __

Health: 28

Health-Regen/Hour: 1.3

__ __ __

Stamina Reserve: 16

Stamina-Regen/Minute: 1.2

__ __ __

Mana Pool: 8

Mana-Regen/Minute: 0.8

Individual Adaptative Stats

Grit: 6 (5 + 1 Enhanced)

Athleticism: 5

Toughness: 6

Perception: 4

Resonance: 3

Preservation: 1

Spatial Core - Active

(C) Basic Camo Kit, Camouflage Spell – Level 1

(C) Tinfoil Hat of Mind Shielding – Level 1

(U) Bleach Bolt: The Unidentified Stain Eradicator – Level 1

(U) Psychedelic Light Show of Minor Distraction – Level 1

Current Titles – Passive

Out of Your League, Deathwish, Marked for Death, Weapon of Opportunity

Although I still didn’t understand why I had a Specimen Bio-Report or a knockoff DnD character sheet, a lot of the information it contained was intuitive. My Health and Mana, for instance, and the level progression system. The Individual Adaptive Stats, however, were anything but run-of-the-mill. What the hell was Resonance? And why did I only have one point in Preservation?

I mean, I didn’t actually know what Preservation was, but that seemed insultingly low.

As I focused on each, a cracked-out animated paper clip appeared that looked just like Clippy, the old Microsoft Word assistant. Except, somehow, this version radiated the energy of a fifty-seven-year-old man with a potbelly, a drinking problem, two ex-wives, and a brood of kids who refused to see him even on holidays. It was singly the most depressing animated assistant I’d ever seen.

“Use the tooltips to learn more shit,” the paper clip said morosely. “Or don’t. It’s no skin off my teeth either way.” That done, the paper clip removed a pack of cigarettes and lit up a virtual Marlboro Red, seeming to delight in the harsh smoke.

Despite his world-weary appearance, the animated paper clip did indeed have some great—if rather unenthusiastic—tooltips, which offered me a curt, though thorough, overview of what each of the various stats was used for.

Grit is the epitome of unyielding fortitude and ironclad will. It measures your mental determination, perseverance, and ability to resist psionic attacks and psychic influences.

Athleticism measures your overall physical prowess, encompassing strength, speed, and agility. Smash through obstacles, gracefully dodge traps, and strike with unerring precision.

Toughness measures your raw physical fortitude: your ability to endure adverse conditions such as pain and fatigue, and to recover from injuries that would cripple or kill lesser beings. In the Backrooms, if you aren’t smart, you better be tough.

Perception measures your awareness and ability to perceive details, such as noticing hidden traps, detecting lies, or sensing danger. This is that smart thing I was talking about before.

Resonance measures your connection to the Mana that permeates the extradimensional Superspace between worlds. Greater Resonance directly increases your ability to harness the magical power generated by the Progenitor Core.

Preservation measures your ability to withstand and resist the corruption brought on by prolonged exposure to the Blight. The best cure for the Blight is to not get it. The second-best cure is dying. I cannot emphasize this strongly enough: DO NOT CONTRACT THE BLIGHT!

I carefully read through each stat, not wanting to miss anything vital, before finally dismissing the overworked paper clip and his tooltips with a wave of one hand. With new knowledge burning through my mind, I went back and reexamined my SBR Overview. I wasn’t sure what the baseline stats for a normal Joe Blow were, but based on my own stats, I was guessing eight or nine must’ve been at the far end of the bell curve.

I wasn’t an Olympic athlete by any stretch of the imagination, but I was a former Marine, worked out regularly, and had a physically demanding job. My Athleticism was at 5, so I figured that had to be a notch above average. Not great, but not terrible either. Likewise, both my Toughness and Grit were at 6, which rang true. I may not have been the strongest sumbitch around, but I was tougher than old boot leather and didn’t know the meaning of the word quit.

But I was far more interested in the fact that I had 20 Personal Enhancement Points to spend. Assuming an eight really was the upper limit of human ability, if I dropped all twenty points into Athleticism, I would officially become stronger than the strongest living person on planet Earth, and it wouldn’t even be close.

I was tempted to do that, just to see how jacked I got.

As entertaining as that thought was, I quickly dismissed it, thinking back to the Compass of the Catacomber sitting in my tool belt. I wasn’t sure what it would do, but it was a Mythic Emblem, and to use it, I needed a Perception of 10 and a Resonance of 15. With my current stats, hitting the Emblem’s base requirements would cost me all but two of my Personal Enhancement Points. My gut told me it would be worth it in the long run, even if it was still a big gamble in the short term.

I’d been leveling up quickly so far, but that was how these things always went. The early levels were the easiest, but the grind got increasingly more difficult the higher you progressed. I was sure this would be no different.

Making this choice was a risk, and it went against my natural instincts, but I knew it was the right thing to do. Before I could talk myself out of it, I dropped twelve points into Resonance and six into Perception. Then, even though it killed me a little on the inside, I used the last two points to boost my Preservation stat up to 3. I’d heard Croc mention the Blight a couple of times, and although it was still just as much of a mystery as everything else in the Backrooms, I knew for damn certain I didn’t want to get it—especially not if the second-best cure was literally just dying.

With my points distributed, it was finally time to see what the Compass of the Catacomber could do…