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Chapter 86 of 99 · Book 8, A Parade of Horribles

Chapter 86 — Mimics; the Big Six

Book: A Parade of Horribles · Part: Horrible One · Previous: Chapter 85 — The Wheel of Fortune; 'Nothing' in quotes · Next: Chapter 87 — Louis goes; Safehome Yolanda; the giant Imani · Floor: Floor 10 — Don't Come in Last · Series: the series

Opening

Donut jumped and did a backflip while every single thing in the entire room suddenly came

Summary

Donut backflips as the whole room comes alive — tables, slot machines, chairs, gamblers, a chandelier — sprouting jagged mouths: 'Mimics!' Mongo out, two clockwork Mongos with him; the chandelier swallows one and explodes. Fifty things, levels 25 to 120, most around 80; Mitch elongates into a puppet-skin over a razor mouth: Mitch, Level 120, Adolescent Shadow Mimic, Enforcer for the . And the AI's lore dump in the middle of the ambush — 'This little save-my-friends-during-the-race side quest—that wasn’t in any way engineered by me, because fuck you' — Shadow Mimics, counter to the changeling principals, growing in intelligence and strength without limit, prone to 'ideation breaking' (self-awareness), almost undetectable; Mitch a baby at 120, sent by to wreck Hamed. The Big Six: 1. the Crawlers, including former crawlers like Herot and Forkith; 2. the standard NPCs, mostly united — Juice Box among them, dumped in Sheol, unseen ('if you can figure out how to use Reaper Spider Minions to send a message […] you keep missing them'), with offshoots like Hamed's 'ill-advised' revolution for the early indentured; 3. the Gods, 'a dorm full of college freshmen', the group he despises most, fighting each other 'completely unaware that their little game is about to get turned upside down'; 4. the sapient mobs — Shadow Mimics, the Ogre Imperium, Krakaren Prime, the War Mages — who will never work together; 5. the demons in Sheol, 'a closed system, like a cyst'; 6. 'You survive this fight, you make it to the 11th floor, you’ll meet group six.' Tourists and Syndicate security are rats on the first floor. The real Mitch was a Wall Rat — NPCs outside the wipe-rewrite cycle with persistent memory — eaten by this one. 'Beauty and the Beast […] as directed by my hero, Quentin Tarantino.' 'Can we not do lore dumps like this in the middle of an ambush?' Carl punches — with a stubby leg; a table becomes a plastic half-formed Carl; he chomps its leg with a clockwork Mongo until it sprays. Dead mimics turn to grey armless tentacled forms, part soother, part Unwashed. Florin's shotgun; Imani's stupefying blast; Lucia in hag form with a golden lasso whose loop is a portal — she halves a gambler; goblin Elle ice-bolts a millipede slot machine; Mongo's Cruel Sepsis. Ambush predators without surprise are easy. Mitch alone against the Bopca mural grows hands: 'We can talk about this.' Donut shoots each new leg. The Eye of the Bedlam Bride, now hidden on Carl's dog forehead, strains — Let me, Carl. Let me take over. — No. You are trapped… I am in control. — I am here when you need me. Mitch: 'The war mages, the ogres, and Cock-A-Doodle-Doo. They all vie for control of the dungeon back door'; of Li Na he knows nothing, a lizard eye forming — and he lunges; Carl's forehead eye opens by reflex and he freezes, glittering: 'It’s too cold!' Donut's full missile kills him; Mongo lands crotch-first on the corpse and bounces. 'That’s tea-bagging.' 'In the Nothing, we called that flap-jacking.'

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