Page 230 of A Parade of Horribles
“Okay. Tell us.”
Sydnee nodded. She’d only told them a little of what she was planning on talking about. If she’d told them everything, she was afraid they’d never have let her on. But this was live, and he was trapped.
“In the common understanding of the fairy tale and in the dungeon itself,” Sydnee said, “the nine-tier attack is a magicalassault that is considered to have been nine different, rapid, devastating spells that spread out from the beast, either all at once or in succession. These nine spells had vastly different effects, such as the transformation we’ve already seen, outright killing people, et cetera. But if you read the earliest translations of the myth, it’s a little less straightforward than that. In the original myth, there were indeed nine attacks, but not all of them were physical. Some were what we might call psychological attacks that resulted in rapid social movements, shifts in philosophy. Attack one was taking control of the infrastructure, but the second and third attacks were more social in nature. That, of course, doesn’t make for a good fairy tale because it’s too complicated to explain to children. So that’s how the myth of the nine-tier attack was born.”
“Wait,” Ripper said. “You’re saying this really happened? How?”
“It’s very real,” Sydnee said. “We know very, very little about the Primals. They disappeared, leaving only remnants of their civilization. That biggest, most important remnant is, of course, the Eulogist. The center system where many people live. But because we need to keep the center system fed and active, we have the crawl, which in itself is based on the creation of the center system. But as we all know, that myth begins and ends with the nine-tier attack. In the myth, Scolopendra awakens, charges up its attack, and attempts to wipe out all life. But another of its kind tempers the attack, and civilization—barely—survives, only to rise again, only for the cycle to repeat. That’s the philosophical question the Scolopendra myth asks. If life is imperfect, what do we do about it? Is it better to end it all and just be done with it, or do we stop it, knowing that if we do that, the suffering will continue? Does the good outweigh the bad?”
“Okay...” Ripper began. “What does any of that have to do with?—”
But Sydnee continued, speaking over Ripper. She was doing it. She was getting it out there. This was so much better than her stupid poetry. Yes, people bought her book, but nobody understood it.
“This is happening again. Scolopendra in the dungeon has awakened, it has unleashed its first attack, and it will undoubtedly kill everyone in there at any moment. But here’s my theory. Many people don’t seem to realize this, but the Eulogist is the source of theoriginalnine-tier attack. I believe that Earth system AI, which has escaped containment, will not only be the source of the new attack, but I believe it has already started. It escaped and took control of the tunnel system. We are seeing the dungeon gods leaking. Syndicate forces are unable to respond. You, Ripper, are trapped in the system because it’s not letting you leave. That was attack number one of nine. Control. Attack number two is going to start the moment this eleventh floor starts. It already said this out loud. Even in the histories, the second and third attacks, these social movements, had names.”
“What were the names?”
“The first attack is about control. The second attack in the old histories has a name. When translated, it is called A Parade of Horribles. It’s right there in the text.”
“Wait,” Ripper said. “No shit? You’re telling me in the histories, like the things written down before this season started, the old nine-tier attack had, obviously, nine parts, and the first attack was controlling the tunnel system. And the second attack was called A Parade of Horribles?”
“Yes, Ripper, that’s what I’m telling you.”
And that’s when all the monitors in the studio changed to a screen showing nothing but a flowing star field.
“Uh, hang on, Sydnee,” Ripper said. “Guys, what the hell is this?”
To Sydnee’s left, the screen that was nothing more than a pretend window normally showing a comforting swamp had switched to mimic the star field. Through the wall, her neighbor was screaming.
“Gods,” Ripper said. He looked at her across the virtual stage. “I guess the AI has taken over all the feeds. It’s not going to let us live-comment.” He laughed nervously. “Let’s, uh, continue the conversation while we watch. We’ll record it and show it later if we can. Tell me more about this Parade of Horribles thing. What is it?”
“I don’t actually know,” Sydnee said, eyes firmly on the monitor. “I guess we’re about to see. It’s really more about what happens after. How people react.”
“And how do they react?”
Sydnee smiled. “It’s after this attack when the people finally learn what is happening and panicreallystarts to set in. It’s here where the fabric of society truly starts to crumble. It goes tentacle in tentacle with the third attack, where people accept their fate and turn on one another. They say once that happens, it’s too late to stop it.”
Ripper just looked at her, a horrified expression on his fuzzy face. “You’re saying this eleventh floor, which is about to start, is the second attack? What’s the third attack called?”
“This Inevitable Ruin. And the fourth is called Bedlam. It gets a little fuzzy after that.”
“Huh,” he said. “Who is the one who stops it, and how?”
“Well, we don’t really know what happened in real life, but many people believe the Apothecary is the one who stopped it. In the fairy tale, the princess takes control of the all-tree by killing it, accidentally killing everyone she loves in the process. But this tempers the final attack, saving the galaxy. She then plants another tree, and this process starts all over again. Don’t ever forget, this story is a tragedy.”
