The second morning of the New Management began with silence.
Aris opened his eyes. He waited for the jackhammer. He waited for the explosion. He waited for a goblin to scream that his pants were on fire.
Nothing.
He sat up in bed, instantly suspicious.
"Eve," Aris said, his voice echoing in the quiet room. "Why is it quiet? Quiet is bad. Quiet means they are plotting."
Eve materialized from the shadows near the wardrobe. She was holding a freshly pressed suit, her expression one of dry, aristocratic suffering.
"It is quiet, Master, because the workforce lacks the caloric energy to vibrate," Eve said smoothly.
"They're tired?"
"They are starving," Eve corrected. "The larder is empty. At 4:00 AM, the Night Shift breached the pantry. They consumed three barrels of flour, a sack of dried beans, and the decorative wax fruit bowl in the dining hall."
"They ate the wax fruit?"
"Master Garrick told them they were Eternal Apples," Eve noted, brushing a speck of dust off the suit. "He claimed they grant immortality if chewed long enough. There are currently fifty goblins in the hallway chewing wax with tears in their eyes. They refuse to swallow, but they seem quite happy about their impending immortality."
Aris rubbed his temples. "Garrick."
"Indeed," Eve replied. "We have five thousand employees, Master. And zero breakfast. Unless you plan to feed them sawdust—which, to be fair, they would probably eat—I suggest a solution before they start eyeing the upholstery."
Aris walked down to the Great Hall, buttoning his cuffs. He felt sharper today. The shock of the new world was fading, replaced by the cold, hard reality of logistics.
He pushed open the doors to the Hall, which had been converted into a makeshift cafeteria.
It was a war zone of desperation.
Elowen was standing behind a massive cauldron in the center of the room. She was wearing a chef's hat that was currently on fire. She looked manic.
"It needs more kick!" Elowen yelled, holding a vial of glowing red liquid.
"Elowen, stop!" Aris shouted, but he was too late.
"It's a reduction!" Elowen argued, uncorking the vial. "It sears the flavor into the soul!"
She dumped it in.
A mushroom cloud of spicy steam erupted from the pot. It smelled like chili peppers, sulfur, and bad decisions.
A goblin standing too close sniffed the air. He froze. He looked down at his hands.
"I can feel my skeleton sweating," the goblin whispered in horror. "My bones are wet."
"It's not soup!" another goblin gasped, clawing at his throat. "It's liquid anger! I swallowed it and now my stomach is yelling at me!"
"I just burped and saw the face of God!" a third screamed, staring wild-eyed at the ceiling. "He looks like a chili pepper and he is very disappointed in me!"
"Quick!" a fourth goblin yelled, grabbing a spoon. "Hit me in the face! I need to feel a different kind of pain!"
Valerius drifted over to the goblins. She wasn't helping them; she was taking notes on a clipboard.
"Fascinating," the Alchemist murmured. "The capsaicin levels are so high they are bypassing the taste buds and attacking the moral center of the brain. They aren't just tasting heat; they are physically experiencing regret."
She poked the goblin who claimed his skeleton was sweating.
"Is the regret spicy?" Valerius asked politely.
"It tastes like my ex-wife," the goblin wept.
"Excellent," Valerius noted. "Psychological trauma via soup. Elowen, pour another bowl. I want to see if it melts glass."
"Stop!" Lyra's voice cut through the madness.
The Elven Queen stormed into the room. She was holding a scroll that was dragging on the floor. She looked like she hadn't slept in a century.
"No one eats the lava soup!" Lyra commanded. Vines shot out of the floor, wrapping around the cauldron and sealing the lid shut.
"You are spoiling the fun, Lyra," Elowen pouted. "It was a zest experiment."
"It is a biological weapon, Elowen," Lyra snapped. She turned to Aris. "Aris. We have a crisis. I have run the numbers. Five thousand goblins require approximately ten million calories a day. We have..." She checked her scroll. "...three dead rats and a bag of mints."
"We need a supply run," Aris said, stepping up to the table. "Eve said the Fungal Wastes are north."
"Mushrooms?" Krakka asked, stepping out from behind a pillar. The Warlord looked deflated. His mechanical claw was hanging limp. "We eat fungus? Is squishy."
"It is food, Krakka," Aris said. "And right now, beggars can't be choosers."
"Some mushrooms good," a rasping voice echoed from the rafters.
Thal dropped down. He landed silently on the table, crouching like a gargoyle. He pulled a map from his belt.
"I scouted the perimeter," Thal reported. "The Fungal Wastes are rich in biomass. Giant puffballs. Cave wheat. However..."
He pointed a gloved finger at the map.
"...the ecosystem is hostile. Spore-Bats. Carnivorous Vines. And the air itself is... heavy."
"Heavy?" Garrick asked, floating down to steal a mint from Lyra's desk. "Like, emotional baggage heavy? Or gravity heavy?"
Lyra slapped his hand, but he was already floating out of reach, popping the mint into his mouth with a grin.
"Psychotropic heavy," Thal corrected, ignoring the Gravity Mage. "The spores cause hallucinations and confusion."
"Perfect," Aris sighed. "We are taking an army of idiots into a forest that makes you stupid. This will go well."
The march to the Fungal Wastes was a spectacle of incompetence.
They left the castle in a column. Aris had tried to organize them, but hunger made the goblins distracted.
Kaelen walked in the front. He was the only thing keeping them moving. He glowed with his Shining Hero aura, acting as a literal lighthouse for the goblins to follow.
"Follow the Shiny Man!" the goblins chanted weakly. "He leads us to the Snacking Land!"
Kaelen didn't seem to mind. He waved regally, treating the starving mob like adoring fans.
"Keep your chins up, citizens!" Kaelen encouraged, his voice smooth as silk. "Hunger is just the body's way of asking for flavor. We shall find it soon."
Lyra walked in the middle, her vines acting as sheepdogs. Every time a goblin tried to stop and eat a rock, a vine would gently smack them on the back of the head.
"Keep moving," Lyra ordered. "Do not eat the gravel. Gravel has no nutritional value."
"But it crunch!" a goblin argued.
"Walk!" Lyra commanded.
Valerius was drifting near the back, distracted. She kept stopping to pluck weeds.
"Look at this," Valerius whispered to Aris, holding up a purple flower that was dripping slime. "It's a Vomit-Root. If you eat it, you turn inside out. Literally."
"Please don't put that in the salad, Valerius," Aris pleaded.
"I'm keeping it for research," she smiled, tucking it into her pocket.
Aris walked beside Eve. He felt the tension rising. The further they got from the castle, the stranger the landscape became.
The trees stopped looking like wood and started looking like spongy, twisted flesh. The grass was replaced by gray moss that squished underfoot.
"Eve," Aris whispered. "Is it just me, or are the trees breathing?"
"They are aspirating, sir," Eve noted calmly. "I suggest shallow breaths. We do not want a fungal infection in the lungs. It is notoriously difficult to dry-clean."
They reached the edge of the true forest.
It was a wall of towering mushrooms. Some were as tall as skyscrapers, blocking out the sun. The air was filled with glowing, neon-blue dust.
"Halt!" Aris ordered.
The army stopped.
"Krakka," Aris called. "Get the Harvesting Squad ready. Saws out."
"Saws ready, Boss!" Krakka saluted. He looked at the giant mushrooms. "They look... chewy."
"Thal," Aris whispered. "Point man. Lead the way."
Thal nodded and vanished into the blue mist.
The group moved forward, stepping into the gloom. The silence of the forest was oppressive. It wasn't empty; it felt like the forest was holding its breath.
Suddenly, a goblin near the front stopped. He stared at a large, red mushroom with white spots.
"It... it speaks to me," the goblin whispered.
"Don't listen to the produce," Garrick warned playfully from above. "Vegetables are notorious liars."
"It says..." the goblin leaned in closer, entranced. "It says I am handsome."
The goblin hugged the mushroom.
SNAP.
The mushroom wasn't a mushroom. It was a mouth.
A massive set of jaws snapped shut where the goblin's head had been a second ago.
But the goblin wasn't there.
Kaelen was leaning against the stalk of the carnivorous mushroom. He had the goblin held by the back of his collar, dangling him safely out of reach. Kaelen hadn't even drawn his sword. He looked bored, picking a speck of lint off his sleeve with his free hand.
"Too slow," Kaelen critiqued the plant. "And terrible table manners."
He dropped the goblin, who scrambled away screaming.
"The salad bites back," Kaelen noted dryly.
Suddenly, the forest woke up.
The trees shifted. The ground rumbled. Hundreds of red eyes opened on the stalks of the giant mushrooms surrounding them.
Thal materialized next to Aris. His voice was grim, devoid of any comfort.
"We are not foraging. We are trespassing."
Aris looked at his starving, hallucinating army. He looked at the carnivorous forest that surrounded them.
A massive vine, thick as a tree trunk, slowly uncurled from the canopy, dripping acid that hissed when it hit the ground.
"Eve," Aris said, adjusting his tie.
"Yes, Master?"
"I think we're going to need the bigger saws."
To Be Continued...