Page 58 of Wrong Squad, Right Mess

“Enough!” Corsa shouted. “You all changed the course of my life once—I won’t let you do it again.” That was all the warning I got before a blast of power swept through the open space, causing both Ingram and Carter to collapse. I couldn’t see Shear, but I no longer felt his presence in my mind, telling me whatever Corsa had done had worked on him as well.

The power didn’t appear to strike me, but that didn’t matter. The battle I’d waged against unconsciousness fail, and the weight of my eyelids grew too heavy.

I welcomed the darkness.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Carter

Well, this was the second time I’d woken up disoriented in such a short amount of time. If I’d been back home, I’d think I needed to make some serious life changes to prevent it from happening again.

At least this time I remembered everything right away. Corsa, Yun, our failed attack plan—yep, that all was right there.

I opened my eyes, just a crack, when I could pick up no sounds around me, nothing to give me any information.

I was lying in the soil, outside, the dungeon sky still above me. I didn’t have the tablet, couldn’t guess how long we had before the portal would close, but I could see it in the distance. It wasn’t sparking, so we had at least an hour or two.

Ingram, Shear and Kenyon all rested beside me, spread out as though we’d been dropped with little care or ceremony. The fact we were alive at all seemed rather strange to me.

Corsa had the upper hand—why hadn’t he killed us?

I didn’t see him—or Yun—around, but the cabin sat just beyond a few tightly clustered trees, giving me a good idea of where he’d set up.

I went forward, needing to check on Yun, but pain rushed through my chest like I’d bumped into some invisible electric fence. It drove me back a few feet, the agony so intense it surprised me. I wasn’t a man unused to pain or injuries, but that shit took it up a notch.

“You can’t leave.” Corsa stepped out from the opposite side from the cabin, forcing me to turn around. He gestured at six crystals, all purple and glowing faintly. “These erect a force field that you can’t break, not from inside.”

“So what? This is some sort of boy aquarium?” I didn’t dare touch the space there again, not wanting a repeat when I didn’t have another plan. “I never realized you were this kinky. I would have figured you’d have gotten along a lot better with Ingram than you did.” I scratched my chin as though confused.

The truth was far from that, though. Instead, I studied everything. I let all the little details sink into me.

Corsa wore what appeared to be a uniform much like ours. Had he stolen it from other espers this time? Or did he have a collection, stolen from the last time The Pitt opened? The six crystals sat at equal distance from each other, and they flickered from time to time. Was that when a bug touched it?

I had hypothesis after hypothesis, introducing them then filing them away to test later. I didn’t know what most of it meant, how I could use it, but often one tiny detail could change the entire course of a plan.

“You all have always been like that, sidetracked by things that are fleeting, distracting yourselves with pointless nonsense. From the espers who entered the dungeon, I hear you have only grown worse in the time since I’ve been gone. Afterall, it was your fault that I was trapped here. At first, I stewed, thinking you had returned to this perfect life while I rotted away here. Later, as I came to like the honesty of The Pitt, I didn’t hate you as much, but I still found myself annoyed at the prospect of you receiving praise for what had happened. Imagine my pleasure to know you were punished, ostracized, brought down a few pegs in the public eye. It was about time people saw you for what you really were—self-important assholes who thought far too much of themselves.”

“You know, you monologue like a supervillain,” I pointed out with a smile. “Though I’m a little curious why exactly I’m still breathing. With all that weirdly sexual hatred you’ve got there, I would have figured that you’d kill us.”

“I thought about it. I mean, you got the jump on me, and if that isn’t a good enough reason to kill you, I don’t know what would be. You clearly are still very much a threat to me, and I don’t care for allowing threats to exist.”

“So why didn’t you go with that feeling?”

Corsa crossed his arms, looking just as he had before. Corrupted didn’t usually survive long, but it didn’t seem as though Corsa had aged much, if at all. Did corruption stop aging? Or was it spending the time here in The Pitt?

“Did you know that it is impossible to survive in a closed dungeon for more than a year or so? Everything will end up rotting away so there is no food, no water, no anything.”

“And yet you’re still here, ten years later,” I pointed out. “You sound a bit like a cockroach.”

He smiled, as though the statement didn’t bother him in the least. Did anything bother him? Corrupted were often consumed by their emotions, but he seemed disconnected from them. “You’re alive for the same reason I am still alive—because there is another place to go, to obtain supplies, and that place does not love espers like you. They will pay well for the four of you.”

I wanted to narrow my eyes, but I resisted the urge, keeping my expression easy and amused. Don’t let anything show that someone could use against me.

I’d spent years in and out of dungeons, but I’d never heard a bit of what he’d just said.

Well, I’d heard lots of crazy theories, but nothing concrete, nothing useful. It made me wonder if this was more of his madness, more signs that his psyche couldn’t handle what was going on. He might look put together, but that wasn’t the sort of delusion a healthy mind would put together.

“And where’s Yun?” I asked.