A t-shirt appeared in the middle of the screen, showing a cartoon version of Pete holding up an arrow with the head of a hobgoblin stuck at the end of it.

  

  >> Looking for this season’s hottest merch? Well, look no further than the Tongsly Belch Vault Breaker Collection. This vast array of over fifty bespoke designs will make you the envy of your friends and colleagues.

  New shirts appeared on the screen, rapidly showing one after the other with Pete portrayed in a variety of poses, either by himself or with Sam and his companions. Some of the images showed real events that had occurred in the past few days, such as Pete slicing the head off a zombie plant or fighting Grinko Maas early on in the contest.

  Other cartoon designs showed things that had never actually happened, like Pete thrusting his machete through the chest of Coinlord Grindle or fighting some kind of insect beast with dozens of black legs and a shiny, chitinous shell. There was even a design that showed Pete shooting an arrow toward what was clearly some kind of breakfast cereal mascot. The mascot was little more than a cereal box with arms and legs and a huge goblin face with golden teeth and coin-shaped cereal spraying from its mouth.

  

  >> T-shirts come in all sizes, including extra small humanoid, quadruped, four and six arm sizes, amorphous fit for glutinous lifeforms, exoskeletal, tentacle fit (up to mammoth kraken), and serpentine. We even have an incorporeal mist version for Dominion citizens of a less physical nature.

  The screen showed a swirling mass of bluish light and a large spray can, which proceeded to spray a multicolored mist onto the shape. Once it was done, a misty version of one of the t-shirt designs showed a blurry representation of Pete stomping down on a goblin head.

  

  >> All Vault Breaker design t-shirts now come with a 5% additional exclusivity surcharge, and a portion of the proceeds of every purchase will be returned directly to the Vault Breaker himself!

  An animated cartoon version of Pete bloomed at the center of the screen and gave a big thumbs-up gesture, smiling happily. The screen suddenly shifted again, showing a scrawny-looking goblin who looked like he’d been dragged out of a hole in the ground. The figure had half-lidded eyes and scars on his face, but the t-shirt he sported was bright and clean, showing Pete in a heroic stance with Vault Breaker written in block writing at the top of the shirt.

  “‘I work in the salt mines here at Glorbon Prime and spend most of my time underground. When I finish my work month and head up to the surface for a little rest and relaxation, I find fitting in quite difficult.’”

  The goblin smiled, showing a mouth filled with missing teeth and sores.

  “‘But with my Vault Breaker t-shirt, I have the confidence to make new friends and become my true self.’”

  The screen shifted to a side view of the goblin wearing his new t-shirt and walking into some kind of club. The moment he stepped inside, a host of well-dressed female goblins swamped the figure, swooning over him as lights flashed all around.

  “‘The Vault Breaker t-shirt is the secret of my success,’” the goblin said, turning and giving the thumbs-up gesture.

  

  >> And you too can regain your confidence with one of our latest Vault Breaker t-shirt designs. But why settle for just one when you can collect them all?!

  Sped-up footage showed a large hobgoblin standing in a store, handing over Belch Bucks as the server placed bags on the counter between them one after the other, all the while smiling at the camera. A series of bafflingly confusing prices appeared on the screen, ranging from fifty Belch Bucks all the way up to three hundred Belch Bucks, each with different additions and modifications listed in small print and with their own additional costs.

  

  +| Golden Collar of Mild Superiority - 5 Belch Bucks

  +| Redundant Backup Tag – 10 Belch Bucks

  +| Self-Warming Snuggle Lining - 35 Belch Bucks

  +| Emergency Snack Pocket - 50 Belch Bucks (snacks sold separately)

  +| Anti-Stain Coating - 100 Belch Bucks (resistant to 50% of stains)

  +| Reversible with Bonus Vault Breaker Image – 200 Belch Bucks

  “Jesus,” Pete said, shaking his head. “This is beyond absurd.”

  Leaning in from the back cabin, Craig snorted. “This is nothing. There are twelve feed channels available on my home world; six of them are pure advertising like this, and you actually have to pay to watch them.”

  Pete turned to face the goblin. “Who the fuck would pay to watch this?”

  “Collectors mostly, or people who work for organizations that pipe the advertising channels to all employee terminals. The Tongsly Belch Company pays other companies with more than a thousand people so that the ad channels are constantly playing. I think executives also get a kickback and a small portion of whatever sales the ads generate.”

  Grizzle nodded just behind him, a faraway look in her eyes.

  “If you purchase an item directly from an ad, you can buy a temporary ad blocker coupon that will block ads for twenty-four hours.” She looked up at Pete, a mixture of anger and sorrow in her eyes. “People will save up for months just to buy something, anything, so they can have some peace and quiet.”

  Pete shook his head. “Why not just turn the feed off?”

  The two goblins both flinched in response to the suggestion.

  “It’s illegal,” Craig explained. “They can have you locked up or worse for trying it. Besides, there’s no way to turn most advertising feed screens off. Not without damaging the projection unit, and that means you’re damaging Corporation property.”

  “What the fuck? That’s ridiculous!”

  [Nero] I’m afraid that Craig is correct, Pete. Switching off an advertising feed is illegal in any company or organization that is sponsored by the Tongsly Belch Corporation. Offenders are typically charged with the heaviest penalties so that others won’t follow in their footsteps.

  “How many companies are sponsored by Belch?” Sam asked.

  [Nero] Presently, approximately ninety-three registered companies and organizations possess some kind of sponsorship agreement. Not all of those agreements entail the required streaming of advertising feeds, but most do. Roughly half of those companies and organizations have exclusive sponsorship deals with the Tongsly Belch Corporation.

  “Wait,” Pete said. “So, there are other companies like Tongsly Belch?”

  [Nero] Yes indeed. There are many such. Most of those companies are much smaller concerns, however, and they tend to operate along the Outer Band and in the Badlands. It is well known that the Tongsly Belch Corporation has spared no expense in fostering distrust and outright hostility between these rival organizations in the interest of maintaining its monopoly over the Dominion and the Ultrimax Contest itself.

  Pete nodded, storing that piece of information away. Surely, if a rebellion was the only way to ensure that humanity survived, seeking an alliance with some of these rival companies would be a good idea. Then again, they were probably just as bad, if not worse, than anything Tongsly Belch put his grubby little hands on.

  A series of bright golden flashes drew his attention back to the feed screens in front of the RV, where a golden box with a shimmering question mark at its center rotated, surrounded by sparkles.

  

  >> And for the ultimate collector, why not set yourself apart from the crowd by sporting a limited edition, Golden Belch Buck Vault Breaker t-shirt, available for just two thousand Belch Bucks! These are limited to just under a thousand individual items, all delivered in hermetically sealed packaging or, for just an extra five hundred Belch Bucks, we’ll mount the shirt for you in an Elderwood frame with scratch-proof glass!

  The box opened, revealing a shirt with the title Vault Breaker and an image of Pete, all drawn in different shades of gold and black.

  “Damn!” Sam said, turning to face Pete and nodding. “You gotta admit, that looks pretty cool.”

  Coop snorted. “Who’d pay two thousand dollars for a shirt?! Anyone stupid enough to buy a thing like that deserves to be taken advantage of.”

  Craig shook his head. “There is a great deal of status to be earned by such a purchase. Buying items such as this is a way for one to elevate their social standing within their community. Most would see this as an investment rather than a frivolous expense.”

  “Ridiculous,” Coop said.

  “Yes, it is,” the goblin countered. “But money and the prestige of owning items such as this are the only means of advancing in the Dominion. Without the status these afford, you are doomed to a life that amounts to little more than slavery.”

  “There is another way,” Grizzle interjected. “Another Path.”

  Craig rolled his eyes but didn’t reply.

  

  >> URGENT BROADCAST: RUN THE GAUNTLET!

  We interrupt this advertisement for a breaking new advertisement!

  The feed shifted to a large white room with a goblin figure dressed in a purple suit standing in the middle of three suits. Gameshow-style music played as the camera zoomed in uncomfortably close, showing the goblin’s glinting yellow eyes and the diamond-studded rings through his nose.

  “Greetings, folks! It’s your old pal Bulrick Biznok here with another exclusive, urgent, breaking advert!”

  The music continued, heightening in speed and intensity as lights flashed all around the stage.

  “Jesus,” Pete said. “An ad within an ad?” He gritted his teeth. This was all just wasting time, drawing out the tension while his mother was dangling over a precipice. It made him want to punch something, very hard, and repeatedly.

  A golden box appeared, rising up from the floor in front of Bulrick Biznok. He walked up to the box, grinning broadly and showing rows of sharp teeth that seemed to be diamond-tipped.

  “In just a few short minutes, we’re going to be giving away one of these limited-edition Golden Vault Breaker t-shirts to one lucky winner. We’ve picked three lucky contestants who have been selected at random from our ever-growing pool of hopefuls. So, let’s bring them out now!”

  Cheers rose from the feed as the camera panned back and three figures moved out onto the stage, each moving to one of three rectangular blocks surrounding the host. The blocks were glossy white and stood at three different heights so that they were each just above the waist of the three contestants.

  “Wait,” Sam said. “This is a gameshow now?”

  Craig nodded. “It’s part of the ad. They have a contest and give away an item. Anyone watching can bet on who will be the winner, who will drop out first, and so on.”

  Bulrick Biznok walked over to the first contestant, a hulking hobgoblin with deep-set eyes and a jutting brow. The brute was dressed in a plain brown suit that struggled to cover his bulk. He also wore a tie that was circular at the end rather than pointed, and which had a cartoon image of Pete in a heroic pose at its center.

  “Our first contestant is Daak Gaan, a mechanic from Gorbon Prime. Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself, Daak?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The host shoved a microphone into the hobgoblin’s face, and the brute cleared his throat, blinking.

  “Ah…I work on compactors mostly. The big ones that crush waste into ultra-compressed packages which can be stored safely.” The hulking hobgoblin pulled at his collar, looking down at Biznok uncertainly as he continued. “A large-scale compactor can crush up to fifteen tons of raw materials into a single sliver which typically weighs half an ounce, or a little more.”

  “Fascinating!” Bulrick Biznok said, ripping the mic away from the huge figure. “If only we had more time to learn about…trash compactors. Now, over to our second contestant.”

  Pete frowned, shaking his head. “This doesn’t make any sense. It’s like a classic nineteen-fifties game show. You can’t seriously tell me that the Dominion has been running ads like this for centuries.”

  [Nero] Ads have indeed been run for centuries, Pete; however, the current formatting of the ads has been tailored to fit an Earth aesthetic. In the lead-up to this season of the Dominion Ultrimax Contest, surveillance probes were sent ahead to gather information, and the Propaganda and Merchandising Division of the Tongsly Belch Corporation began modifying existing assets to fit key themes of the Earth-based season.

  Bulrick Biznok approached the second contestant, a squat creature that looked eerily like a Mario-style mushroom but with long eye stalks that stretched a foot or so above the creature’s head.

  “She who Blooms Atop the Fungal Skein,” the host said, pointing a hand at the creature, “introduce yourself to our viewers, why don’t you.”

  The mushroom creature nodded and proceeded to blink its eyes rapidly. In the space above the shroom figure’s head, words appeared, written in English, though Pete suspected that they would be automatically translated to whatever language each reader understood.

  

  >> I derive from the Elderbloom Skein. I produce many spores and govern the preponderance of hollow blossoms.

  Biznok stood for a moment, clearly expecting more.

  “Right,” he said, recovering quickly, “how very interesting. I must say it is rare that we have individuals from the Mycelium kingdom here on the show. Well, best of luck, She who Blooms Atop the Fungal Skein, but it’s time to meet our final contestant.”

  The host walked over to a female elf with long, silvery hair and a metallic collar that Pete instantly recognized. Unlike the other contestants, it was clear that she was not pleased to be there. She made no effort to smile when Biznok shoved the mic in her face.

  “Serena Oakenvale, we’re so glad that you could join us. On day release from the Tongsly Belch Opulon Penitentiary, I believe?”

  The woman said nothing but just stared straight ahead. Biznok nodded, turning to face the audience.

  “Showing some of that steely resolve you elves are famous for. Well, I can tell you folks that Serena here is one of the original members of the Defaulters Dozen.”

  A round of boos rose from the unseen audience.

  “That’s right, folks. Along with other infamous criminals like Cutpurse Caalan and Orin Tithebreaker, our elf companion here was a leading voice in the Tax Evasion Heresy, responsible for the loss of countless fortunes and the destabilization of the market itself. Were it not for the swift actions of our Supreme High Baron, our entire economy might well have collapsed.”

  The boos continued, studded with occasional shouts of unintelligible rage.

  “Still, we’re privileged to have such a notorious contestant here for this emergency giveaway!”

  Pete turned to Craig. “I don’t get it. Why would they have someone they consider a criminal on a show like this?”

  The goblin narrowed his eyes, teeth clenched. “Because this is little more than an execution dressed up as entertainment. The elf will not win and thus will be slaughtered as a result. She knows this to be true.”

  “You hear Orin’s name, right?” Sam said.

  Pete nodded. “Yeah. Next time we speak, I’ll have to ask him about this Tax Evasion Heresy business.”

  [Nero] I’m happy to provide a comprehensive overview of the event, Pete. I have a considerable amount of information regarding the Heresy itself and the consequent battles, market fluctuations, and urgent legislation enacted in response.

  “No thanks,” Pete said. “I’d prefer a less biased perspective.”

  [Nero] I assure you that these facts have been vetted to the highest quality standards.

  “Yeah, by historians who are on the Corporation’s payroll, right?”

  [Nero] Well, not officially, no. They are independent research bodies… however, they do receive grant money from various subsidiaries of the Tongsly Belch Corporation and—

  “Exactly. No offense, Nero, but you can keep the propaganda. I’d prefer to hear it firsthand.”

  [Nero] I understand. However, there is every chance that Orin Tithebreaker’s perspective will be deeply colored by his own biases and the part he played in the Heresy itself. How can you be sure that you will be receiving an accurate account from him?

  “I’m not expecting it to be a hundred percent accurate. But at least it will be his view of what happened.”

  Bulrick Biznok moved to the center of the stage with the three contestants arrayed in front of him in a semicircle, all standing behind their rectangular boxes. A small golden dome materialized in front of each player with a small round handle on top.

  “The game is simple,” Biznok said, walking up to the hobgoblin and motioning to the dome sitting in front of the hulking figure. “Beneath this dome is one of two things.”

  He reached behind his back and pulled out an oversized Belch Buck coin, which was the size of a drink coaster. The huge coin proudly displayed Tongsly Belch’s profile, with the goblin baron staring nobly off into the distance.

  “Either there will be a coin sitting beneath the dome, or there will be nothing. Contestants will have to guess which, and if they are correct, they can keep playing. If they are wrong, however—”

  “THEY RUN THE GAUNTLET!”

  The hidden audience screamed the catchphrase, and Biznok nodded, wearing a broad smile.

  “That’s right, folks. If they guess wrong, they run the Gauntlet.” He looked around at the contestants. “Now, while no one has ever survived the Gauntlet in the fifty years this program has been running, we’ve had a few contestants that have come very close.”

  A screen overlay appeared in front of the stage, showing a squat goblin figure scurrying along through a long tunnel filled with huge swinging blades, spinning spiked wheels, and saw blades jutting in from every conceivable angle. The goblin made a noble effort, jumping off the walls and spinning his way past a vicious blade that suddenly shot up from the floor. A few feet from the end of the tunnel, the goblin’s mouth split into a broad grin before a hammer with a head the size of a bulldog slammed down against the creature from above, splatting the goblin against the ground like a bug being crushed by a boot.

  The audience reacted with predictable shock and delight, but the sight of the casual brutality of the contest only made Pete angrier. He was still conscious of the fact that every second he was delayed here, his mother was in greater danger. The fact that the delay was simply so that the Corporate could peddle a crappy game show that ended in torture and death only made his ire fiercer.

  “Unlucky,” Biznok said, shaking his head. “But very close. So, you never know, there’s always a first time.”

  He held up the oversized coin.

  “You’ve heard the rules, contestants, so let’s play!”

  The camera zoomed around, focusing on the hobgoblin.

  “Daak Gaan, you’re first up. So, what do you say? Is there a coin under your dome, or nothing at all?”

  The hulking hobgoblin grinned, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly as he considered the choice. Audience members started calling out suggestions, and he looked at the crowd, smiling in confusion.

  “We’re going to need an answer from you, Daak. Coin or no coin?”

  The brute bit his lip and stuttered a reply. “Cc..coin!”

  “Fantastic!” Biznok said with badly suppressed exasperation. “Well, let’s lift the dome and find out whether you’ve chosen wisely or if you’re destined for the Gauntlet!”

  The crowd cheered as a drum roll started. The big hobgoblin grinned, putting a meaty hand on the dome and pulling it swiftly up. A shiny, oversized Belch Buck greeted him, accompanied by uproarious applause.

  “You chose correctly! Well done, Daak Gaan. Your heavily tusked ancestors would be proud.”

  The host quickly moved to the fungal creature. “She who Blooms Atop the Fungal Skein—boy, what a mouthful—let’s hear your guess, my dear!”

  Holographic writing appeared above the blinking eyes of the strange shroom creature, and the word coin appeared. Before Biznok could even relay her choice, she picked up the golden dome with thin mycelium tendrils that extended from just beneath the cap of her head. Once more, a shiny coin was revealed, and the audience applauded.

  “A farce,” Craig spat from the rear cabin. He shook his head grimly. “The hobgoblin and fungal creature have both been told what to say. The entire event has been staged. They both chose correctly, of course, but when the elf speaks, her choice will be wrong no matter what she says. They have the means of swapping out the coin regardless of her choice.”

  Pete watched as Bulrick Biznok moved over to the elf, walking with prancing steps like a child tiptoeing past a parent’s bedroom.

  “Two correct choices,” he said in a high-pitched tone, “but what will our resident rebel choose, I wonder? Tell us, Serena Okenvale, what do you choose?”

  The elf took a long breath. She looked down at the goblin and then turned to face the camera directly. Piercing emerald eyes locked onto Pete as he watched, suddenly mesmerized by the scene. It was tricky to see, but Pete could just make out the tensing of her neck muscles, likely in response to the thin metal collar that was doubtless causing her great pain at that moment.

  

  >> PERCEPTION PROFICIENCY +1

  The System notification confirmed Pete’s suspicion as the elf spoke.

  “I choose not to be cowed by an oppressive regime,” she said in a rich, commanding voice, her unwavering gaze locked on the camera. “I choose not to bow to the false baron and his—”

  The footage on the screen glitched for a moment, showing a confusing mishmash of sped-up footage in an instant and then returning to focus on Bulrick Biznok.

  “Coin, she says! Coin!”

  For a third time, the audience applauded, but this time it sounded forced to Pete’s ears, as though someone was instructing them, forcing them to applaud and shout. Serena Oakenvale was also completely silent, standing still as though she was being held in place by some invisible force. Pete remembered his own experience of being locked in like that. He knew exactly what would happen next.

  Instead of the elf woman, it was Biznok who lifted the golden dome and, of course, there was nothing underneath it. The crowd oohed in false shock as Biznok lamented the failure. The elf woman was led to a nearby chamber where the Gauntlet awaited while a series of betting notifications showed on the screen, with odds focusing on how long the elf would last, what injuries she would suffer, and what would eventually kill her.

  In an act of defiance, Pete turned from the screen, refusing to watch as the elf was forced to make her way into the Gauntlet. Sam and Coop followed his lead, with Craig and the others doing likewise. They all stared down at the floor, unable to block out the sound of the elf struggling to survive but eventually being cut down.

  It wasn’t much, but looking away seemed the only decent thing to do. Not only was this brutal, money-based society okay with televised torture and death, it seemed to thrill at the prospect. Pete wondered how much money had been won or lost on wagers as to when the elf would die.

  “On to round two,” Bulrick Biznok said with a cheery smile as the feed returned to the contest stage where the two remaining contestants stood. “Okay Daak Gaan, let’s hear it. Coin or no coin?”

  The big hobgoblin tugged at his tie, grinning over at the crowd as they shouted their suggestions.

  “Coin!” the brute said confidently, though it seemed to Pete that he didn’t really understand the rules at all.

  “Daak chooses coin!” Biznok shouted. “Why don’t you pick up the dome and let’s see if you’re right, big guy.”

  The hobgoblin did as he was asked, lifting the dome and revealing blank space.

  “Oh, no! Sorry, Daak, but it looks like you chose wrong.”

  Clownish music played as the big hobgoblin frowned down at the empty space beneath the dome.

  “Let’s have a round of applause for Daak, shall we?” the host said.

  Two goblins dressed in high-tech armor and what looked like automatic weapons approached the hobgoblin and led him away from the stage. Once more the screen shifted to show the start of the Gauntlet with huge blades swinging down and circular saws cutting into a corridor that looked too large for the hobgoblin to fit through even without all of the lethal blades.

  Clearly confused by the arrangement, the big brute turned around, facing the camera.

  “But the man with the briefcase said I would win if I said ‘coin.’ He said that only the elf was going to—”

  The sound of an electric prod could be heard as Daak shook suddenly, recoiling backward and stumbling into the Gauntlet, at which point he was promptly carved in two by a huge swinging blade. The footage immediately returned to Bulrick Biznok as the goblin walked up close to She who Blooms Atop the Fungal Skein.

  “That’s two down and one more chance for our lucky last contestant to win the limited-edition Golden Belch Buck Vault Breaker t-shirt!”

  He turned to face the final contestant, pointing the microphone in her direction in a pointless gesture as she blinked her response even before he asked the question.

  

  >> No Coin.

  “You heard it, folks. No coin it is. Let’s see if—”

  The shroom creature’s tendrils had already picked up the dome and revealed a shiny golden Belch Buck beneath.

  “Unlucky!” Biznok said, turning back to face the camera as the fungal creature was escorted from the stage. “Well, it looks like none of our contestants have fared well, and that’s bad news for them, but great news for you viewers, because now we’re going to raffle off this bad boy to one extremely lucky Dominion citizen!”

  The golden t-shirt appeared at the center of the screen again while, in a small box in the corner, footage showed the unfortunate shroom creature being shoved into the Gauntlet.

  “Just ten Belch Bucks per ticket, and you can buy as many tickets as you want,” Briznok continued. “But hurry, because we’re only going to be selling three million tickets for this particular prize. Select the ticket purchase button now, and we’ll announce the winner shortly!”

  The audience applauded uproariously, completely uninterested in She Who Blooms Atop the Fungal Skein, who had managed to reach the halfway point through the Gauntlet, having lost an eye and suffered extreme injury.

  “I’ve been your host, Bulrick Biznok, and this has been…”

  “RUN THE GAUNTLET!”

  The bizarre ad closed by showing the mushroom figure dragging herself forward only to be shot through by a spear that flew out from the right side of the corridor. It skewered her right through the cap, ending the poor shroom’s life as whirring saw blades and chopping swords split up her corpse.

  

  >>NOW BACK TO YOUR REGULAR ADVERTISING!

  The feed screens shifted abruptly, moving back to the earlier advertisement, which showed an array of different Vault Breaker-themed t-shirts all laid out with prices blinking below them in neon pink and yellow.

  

  >> The Tongsly Belch Vault Breaker Collection. Available now from all licensed distributors. Over fifty bespoke designs available for a limited time. Buy now before the Vault Breaker dies!

  The ad stopped, and each of the three holographic screens hovering in front of the RV returned to showing footage of Pete’s mom and the other victims dangling over acid vats. The transition was so abrupt it felt like a slap in the face.

  “That was just about the worst thing I’ve ever seen,” Sam said. “And I’m only partly referring to the murder.”

  In the rear cabin, Grizzle was crying, leaning against Craig’s shoulder and clearly shaken by what they’d all just seen.

  “It’s fucking barbaric,” Pete hissed. “This whole fucking place needs to be burned to the ground.”

  “Agreed,” Coop said.

  

  >> RACE COMMENCES IN FIVE

  Sam’s eyes went wide as she fumbled to turn the ignition. “Shit!”

  

  >> FOUR

  “Fuck!” Pete barked.

  

  >> THREE

  “Hold on to your asses!” Sam shouted as the two cars beside the RV revved their engines.

  

  >> TWO

  Pete took one more look at his mother, dangling helplessly and now so exhausted by struggling to free herself that she was just sitting there without moving.

  

  >> ONE