Knowledge Is Power: The Last Reader

Three weeks.

Three weeks of waiting. Three weeks of pacing. Three weeks of Aria developing a nervous twitch every time someone said the word "procedures."

But finally, finally, the day arrived.

"Guild Master Balogun has approved your request," Margaret said, her voice flat and emotionless. "You’ve been assigned a scout."

Aria’s heart leaped. "Really? Who?"

"Kelly Trujillo. Badge number 6344."

"That’s... that’s great! When can we meet him?"

"Now. He’s waiting in the briefing room."

---

The briefing room was small and cramped, filled with maps and charts and the kind of dusty atmosphere that made Aria want to sneeze. And there, standing in the corner, was a man who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Kelly Trujillo was not what Aria had expected.

He was short. Not comically short, but short enough that he had to stand on his tiptoes to see over the map table. His hair was thinning, his glasses were crooked, and his expression was one of permanent mild anxiety.

"Hello," he said, his voice squeaking slightly. "I’m Kelly. I’ll be your scout."

Aria blinked. "You’re... you’re the scout?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem. I just expected someone more... experienced."

"I have twenty years of experience. I’ve scouted over a hundred dungeons. I’ve survived everything from goblin nests to ancient tombs. I’m very good at what I do."

"Then why are you—"

"Because I’m the weakest scout." Kelly’s expression didn’t change. "They sent me because they don’t trust you. If you get me killed, it’s not a huge loss. That’s the logic, anyway."

Aria opened her mouth to argue, but a voice interrupted her.

"Don’t listen to him. He’s being dramatic."

A second figure stepped into the room—a woman with bright pink hair, a cheerful smile, and the kind of energy that seemed to fill every corner of the space. She was wearing a badge that read BUNNY.

"Bunny, badge number 1106," she said, extending a hand. "I’m Kelly’s handler. I’m here to make sure he doesn’t die."

"I don’t need a handler," Kelly muttered.

"You absolutely need a handler. You’d wander into a mimic’s mouth if I wasn’t here to stop you."

"I would not."

"You literally did that last week."

"That was a test. I was testing the mimic’s reflexes."

"You were testing your own reflexes. And you failed."

Aria watched the exchange, her confusion growing. "Wait, so you’re both coming with us?"

"Yep," Bunny said cheerfully. "Kelly’s the scout. I’m the muscle. Well, the backup muscle. You two are the main muscle."

"I’m the charm," Kelme offered.

"Right. And I’m the charm’s handler."

---

Kelly and Bunny continued bickering as they made their way to the tomb.

"I still don’t understand why they assigned you to this mission," Kelly said, his voice carrying a note of genuine frustration. "You’re supposed to be my friend. Friends don’t mock each other in front of strangers."

"Strangers?" Bunny laughed. "They’re not strangers. They’re our new teammates. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. They’ll find out about you sooner or later."

"Find out about what?" Aria asked.

"Nothing," Kelly said quickly.

"He’s the weakest scout," Bunny said, ignoring him. "Not a great fighter. Decent at navigation, but terrible at combat. The guild only keeps him around because he’s cheap."

"I am not cheap! I’m economical!"

"You’re cheap."

"I’m economical!"

"Same thing."

"One is a compliment. The other is an insult. There’s a difference!"

"Is there?"

"Yes! I’m economical because I save the guild money. You’re just mean!"

"I’m not mean. I’m honest."

"There’s a difference!"

"Same thing."

---

The tomb entrance loomed before them, massive and foreboding. The stone doors were covered in ancient runes, and the air was thick with the smell of dust and decay.

"Okay," Kelly said, his voice suddenly professional. "This is it. The Tomb of the Crimson Peaks. According to the records, it’s a five-floor dungeon, each floor more dangerous than the last."

"Do you have a plan?" Aria asked.

"The plan is simple. I lead. You follow. If I say stop, you stop. If I say run, you run. If I say don’t touch something, you don’t touch it."

"Even if it looks like treasure?"

"Especially if it looks like treasure. That’s how they get you. Mimics are smart. They know what adventurers want."

"And what do adventurers want?"

"Treasure. And glory. And to not die. Mimics exploit all three."

---

The first floor was a maze of corridors and chambers, filled with the kind of furniture that made Aria’s eye twitch.

"Chair," Kelly said, pointing at a suspicious-looking armchair. "Mimic."

"How can you tell?" Aria asked.

"I have a detecting skill. I detect stuff. And it’s Facing the wrong way."

"Maybe someone moved it."

"No one moves chairs in a tomb. Chairs in tombs don’t get moved. They’re either mimics or they’re not."

He approached the chair cautiously, tapped it with a long stick, and the chair lunged. Kelly stepped back calmly, and Aria blasted it with light.

"See?" Kelly said. "Easy."

"Show-off," Bunny muttered.

The next chamber had a chest. A beautiful, ornate chest that seemed to glow with an inner light. Aria felt her fingers twitching.

"Don’t," Kelly said.

"I wasn’t going to—"

"You were. I could see it."

"I was just looking."

"You were looking like someone who was about to touch a mimic."

"I was not."

"Was too."

The chest turned out to be a real chest. Inside, they found a weapon—a beautiful silver reaper, its blade gleaming in the dim light.

"Rare drop," Bunny said, her eyes widening. "That’s a Silver Reaper. Very valuable. Very rare."

Aria picked it up, feeling the weight of it in her hands. It was perfect. Balanced. Deadly.

"I love it," she said.

"Of course you do," Kelme muttered. "It’s shiny."

"Shiny is good."

"Shiny is dangerous."

"Shiny is treasure."

---

The second floor entrance was guarded by a massive chest. Bigger than the first one. More ornate. More tempting. It seemed to call to Aria, whispering promises of untold riches.

"Don’t," Kelly said.

"But it’s so beautiful—"

"It’s a trap."

"How do you know?"

"Because it’s too big. Mimics that big are guardians. They’re the boss of the floor. also my freaking detection skill"

"I don’t care. I want it."

"Don’t. You. Dare."

Before Kelly could stop her, a voice came from the shadows.

"Don’t. It’s the mimic’s boss. This floor’s guardian. It will kill you."

They turned to see a woman leaning against the wall. She was wearing tattered clothes, her hair disheveled, her expression one of profound exhaustion.

"Who are you?" Aria asked.

"Just a traveler," the woman said. "I got trapped down here. The guardian caught me. I’ve been hiding for days."

She winced, clutching her side. "Please. I need help. Can you heal me?"

Aria stepped forward, her hand glowing with light—

"Stop."

Kelly’s voice was sharp, commanding. Aria froze.

"What?"

"Don’t be stupid. That’s not a real human."

Aria blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"Look at her." Kelly pointed. "She’s obviously not hurt. She’s faking it. Also—" He gestured at her clothes. "What kind of alluring cloth was that? Who wears tattered clothes that look like that? That’s not realistic."

Aria looked closer. The woman’s clothes were torn, yes, but in a way that seemed almost... designed. Carefully arranged. Like someone had spent hours perfecting the look of being disheveled.

"Also," Bunny added, "she’s been ’hiding for days’ in a tomb filled with mimics. How has she survived? Mimics don’t leave survivors."

"And," Kelme chimed in, "her eyes are too bright. People who’ve been hiding for days don’t have bright eyes. They have dead eyes. She has very alive eyes."

Aria looked at the woman, really looked. And then she saw it.

The woman’s smile was wrong. Too wide. Too perfect.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," the woman said, her voice suddenly smoother, more seductive. "I’m just a helpless young woman. I need your help. Please."

"Nope," Bunny said. "That’s a trap."

"Definitely a trap," Kelme agreed. "A very obvious trap. Like, embarrassingly obvious."

"Creepy trap," Kelly added. "It’s a creepy trap."

Aria stared at them. "You’re all saying it’s a trap?"

"Yes."

"All of you?"

"Yes."

"Even you, Kelme?"

"Especially me.You know what I was. I know a predator when I see one. That’s a predator."

The woman—the mimic—dropped the act. Her form shifted, the tattered clothes melting away to reveal a monstrous creature made of wood and teeth and hunger. She smiled, revealing rows of sharp, wooden teeth.

"Clever adventurers," she purred. "I almost had you."

"Almost," Kelly said. "But not quite. also stop talking, mimics don’t do that or turn into a women. because that would mean you’re a shiny mimic and I don’t want to die."

"Next time," the mimic said. And then she melted into the shadows, vanishing.

Kelly stared at what he’d just witnessed, his face slowly losing its color. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously between the others and the ominous sight before them.

"Okay..." he muttered. "That was really ominous."

He took a shaky breath.

"I think we should all just go home. Right now. Immediately. Before whatever that is decides it wants to kill us."

He gave them a nervous smile that didn’t fool anyone.

"Unless, you know, we’re all suddenly interested in dying young."

He took a small step backward.

"So... what do you guys say?"

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