Carmen Sandiego and the shadows of noir

[Laverna]

Chapter one: The golden key





It was supposed to be any other day. Carmen was busy catching up on tasks that kept VILE running smoothly, tucked away in a small boarded-up building in an abandoned ghost town—an ideal spot where no one would think to look for her. She tapped away on her keyboard, checking the status reports from her henchmen, when suddenly the lights flickered and went out.





“Hmm?” she murmured, a hint of confusion creeping into her voice.





Moments later, the lights flickered back on, and she let out a sigh of relief, thinking it was just a temporary glitch. But just as she settled back into her work, darkness enveloped the room once more, plunging her into an unsettling blackout.





Carmen hadn't anticipated her entire system shutting down. The sudden loss of power made the seasoned thief tilt her head in confusion. Yet, her AI companion, Chief, remained active.





"Whoa, something wicked just trapped the whole country in a bubble," Chief remarked, floating around.





“So it’s not because of the hurricane?” Carmen asked, her tone light as she tried to gauge whether Chief was joking.





She chuckled at the thought, finding it amusing to imagine the entire country wrapped in a bubble. It was probably just a weather-related power outage, she decided, brushing aside any hint of concern. As she sat in the dim light, fingers hovering over her keyboard, she awaited the lights to flicker back to life, eager to continue her work without interruption.








Carmen raised an eyebrow as Chief’s usual holographic head transformed into an automata doll


Dressed in a suit, purple bow tie, and fedora.





"I’m not even going to question this," Carmen muttered, catching the now-screaming Chief as he tumbled toward her.





“To be caught by a beautiful woman… to die in her embrace,” Chief sighed melodramatically, as if facing his final moments.





Carmen rolled her eyes, still holding the fragile, doll-like form of the AI. Around them, the once sleek, modern tech had vanished, replaced by clunky early 20th-century machines. Old-fashioned radios, typewriters, and brass fittings filled the room where high-tech equipment had been just moments before. The flickering lights added an eerie glow, casting long shadows across the scene.





Chief’s porcelain face, now cracked slightly from the fall, gave her a wistful look. “If this is the end, at least I went out in style,” he muttered, still stuck in his overdramatic tone.





Carmen, unfazed, placed him gently on a nearby desk. “You're not dying, Chief. But it looks like we've stepped into the past,” she said, glancing around at the outdated devices.





Carmen felt an odd sensation wash over her, a sudden shift in her clothing that was both jarring and uncomfortable. The undergarments she had been wearing transformed into a long-line girdle, constricting her waist in an unfamiliar way.





Her cozy sweater morphed into a lovely gray dress that fell gracefully below her knees, its elegant fabric swirling around her as she moved. Back seam tights attached themselves seamlessly to garters, creating an alluring silhouette. The red heels she had been wearing vanished, replaced by leather kitten heels adorned with golden buckles that clicked softly against the floor.





Even her outerwear changed; her jacket transformed into a delicate, feminine wool coat that accentuated her figure. Silk driving gloves slipped onto her hands, adding an air of sophistication. Finally, her hair underwent a stunning transformation, shifting into neat pin curls tucked elegantly beneath a more refined fedora.





Carmen caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby mirror, taken aback by the vintage style that had overtaken her appearance. “Great,” she muttered, adjusting the fedora with a hint of irritation. “Just what I needed—an unexpected fashion makeover.”





The moment the scent hit her, Carmen’s nose twitched in irritation. It was an overwhelming blend of tobacco, spices and vanilla that invaded her senses, a sudden sensory shift that felt more annoying than frightening. She glanced down at herself, noting the unexpected transformation. Her makeup had shifted to a more subdued palette, yet the red lipstick gleamed sharply against her delicate features, lending her an edge she hadn’t anticipated.





Everything around her felt jarring, as if the world had suddenly taken a step back in time. Carmen shook her head, trying to dismiss the discomfort. Across from her, Chief stared in shock, his porcelain features locked in an expression of awe. If a doll could blush, he would have been bright pink, his wide eyes betraying a mixture of admiration and concern.





“Carmen, what just happened?” he stammered, his voice trembling with confusion.





Carmen took a deep breath, trying to adjust to the sudden changes around her. “I have no idea,” she replied, irritation creeping into her voice.





Carmen scooped Chief up, curiosity overtaking her as she inspected his new form. It had been decades since Chief had a physical body, and she couldn’t help but marvel at the changes. She tugged gently at his clothes, her fingers brushing against the soft mohair of his short, slightly curly blonde hair.





“Sorry, Chief. You’re just so cute,” she said with a playful grin before giving him a big snuggle, feeling the coldness of his porcelain body against her.





“Carmen, you’re going to break me!” he grumbled, his voice a mix of indignation and surprise.





Carmen gently placed Chief in the outer pocket of her coat, where he nestled comfortably. At just five inches tall and three inches wide, he resembled a ball-jointed doll, his porcelain form contrasting with the fabric around him. She pinched herself, hoping to wake from what felt like an absurd dream. The sharp pain that shot through her nerves confirmed her reality.





“I am not dreaming,” she sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settle in. Just then, a stat screen, reminiscent of the ones Chief used to display, appeared in her vision, as if the images were projected directly onto her eyeball.





“Welcome to the game of Public Enemy Era,” the screen announced in elegant, old handwritten calligraphy.





“Chief, can you see this?” she asked, glancing down at him.





“That everything is in a film noir, my beautiful femme fatale,” Chief chuckled, clearly enjoying the dramatic flair of their new predicament.





“No, the menu screen,” she groaned, frustration creeping in.





“No, I don’t see one,” he replied, his voice laced with confusion.





“It says, ‘Welcome to the Public Enemy Era,’” Carmen chuckled as the screen vanished, the absurdity of it all starting to settle in.





“You were already in your Public Enemy Era before this started,” Chief joked, leaning back into the velveteen-lined pocket. His playful tone made her smile, even as she tried to process the strange turn of events.





Carmen couldn’t help but appreciate the irony.





Carmen wasn’t scared or alarmed; instead, curiosity bubbled within her. The strange circumstances had ignited a spark reminiscent of her detective days, and she decided to spend the next few hours exploring and gathering intel.





With Chief nestled safely in her pocket, she navigated the environment with purpose, keenly observing her surroundings. The world felt different yet familiar, each shadow and whisper beckoning her like clues in a case waiting to be solved. She relished the thrill of the hunt, channeling her youthful determination as she pieced together fragments of information, her instincts sharp and focused.





As she moved through the space, she felt a sense of empowerment wash over her, as if the past had merged seamlessly with the present. This was more than just a bizarre situation; it was an opportunity to reclaim the thrill of being a master thief and a cunning detective all over again.





As Carmen surveyed her surroundings, a list of objectives suddenly materialized in her vision, each item glaring at her with an urgency that made her head throb.





**Objectives for Chief:**


1. Locate the music box key in this room.


2. Find a starter weapon (such as a straight pin or hairpin).


3. Discover the thimble.





**Objectives for Carmen:**


1. Locate the music box.


2. Find the lockpick set.


3. Uncover the hidden passageway.





Carmen rubbed her temples, the abrupt appearance of the tasks feeling more like a headache than a helpful guide. “Great, just what I needed,” she muttered, determined to push through the discomfort and complete the mission ahead.





Carmen quickly grabbed a fountain pen from the desk and scribbled down the objectives on a scrap of blank paper, tearing it into a size that Chief could easily hold. She carefully noted his tasks, emphasizing the importance of staying in the room for now.





After writing it out, she folded the paper and handed it to Chief. “Here you go, Chief. Stick to these, and don’t wander off.”





Once she set him gently on the floor, Chief straightened up, ready to tackle his objectives.





Chief hurried off, his small frame darting across the room and reminding Carmen of a mouse scurrying about in search of crumbs. She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as she focused on her own task.





Carmen decided to look for the music box first, thinking it would likely be an easier find. The room was filled with shadows and antique furniture, but her keen eye scanned the area for any sign of the ornate box. She moved with purpose, knowing that the sooner she found it, the closer they would be to unraveling the mystery of their predicament.





Carmen spotted a photo of herself, taken before she became a thief, resting atop a beautifully crafted wooden box adorned with golden details of a phoenix. The black-and-white image showed her as a teenager, dressed in early 1910s attire that made her look more like a scruffy newspaper boy than a lady.





The inscription on the box read, "To Detective Carmen Sandiego, in honor of her nineteenth birthday." Confusion washed over her as she stared at the photo. She wasn’t alive in 1910—how could this image exist? The sight of it, along with the phoenix, which was the calling card of Devineaux, a former co-worker from her time at the Acme Detective Agency, left her puzzled. This bizarre twist only deepened the mystery of her current situation, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something extraordinary was at play.





Carmen tried to open the box, but it was locked with a mechanism that seemed almost childishly simple. Impatiently, she shook it, hoping to rattle it open, but it remained stubbornly shut. Annoyed, she huffed, realizing she’d have to wait for Chief to find the key. She glanced around the room, searching for any sign of him as she remembered he had his own objective: locating the music box key. "Come on, Chief," she muttered to herself, eager to move forward.





Carmen decided to pass the time by rummaging through the other boxes and trinkets scattered around the room. She opened a red tin box labeled "Mascara" and was surprised to find a black hard square and a tiny brush inside.





“Cake mascara—now that’s a relic,” she chuckled, holding it up for a closer look. “It’s like watercolor; you definitely shouldn’t cry with this on.” The vintage item felt foreign to her, a reminder of a time long before her own, and it brought a brief smile to her face as she continued her search.





.


The sudden ringing of a phone pierced the silence, echoing with a sharp "bring bring" that jolted Carmen to her feet. Instinct kicked in, and she hurriedly headed out of the room, knowing all too well that it was a house phone—whoever was calling could have vital information. Her heart raced as she dashed down the hall, her mind racing with possibilities. In her urgency, she left the door ajar, the faint sound of the ringing phone guiding her steps as she navigated the unfamiliar space, eager to uncover what awaited her on the other end of the line.





Chief suddenly emerged from under the couch, his expression a mix of confusion and excitement. "I found the key! A mouse had it, and I fought the mouse," he declared proudly, hanging a golden key adorned with swirling patterns and faux diamonds around his neck. "You can reward me with a kiss, Carmen. Wait, where are you?"





When he received no immediate response, his enthusiasm began to wane, replaced by a hint of sadness. “Carmen? Did you leave me again?” His small voice trembled slightly, reflecting his fear of abandonment as he remained in the room, anxiously scanning the surroundings. The joy of his discovery faded, overshadowed by the growing worry that she might not return.





Chief didn’t notice Carmen walking back into the room as his mind replayed flashes of the night she had abandoned the ACME detective agency over and over. The memories haunted him, each one amplifying his fear of being left behind again.

“Carmen? Did you leave me again?” he murmured, his small voice trembling with concern. He hung his head slightly, the golden key around his neck feeling heavier as doubt crept in, clouding the excitement of his earlier triumph


“Chief, are you alright?” Carmen asked, her voice unusually sympathetic as she scooped him up. A wave of worry washed over her; she hoped he hadn’t been damaged. Her eyes landed on the key around his neck, and a smile broke through her concern. “Great, you found it!”





His eyes widened as he snapped out of his thoughts. “Oh, you actually didn’t leave me again! You’ve got to stop ghosting me, you know that,” Chief grumbled, annoyance lacing his tone. Carmen smirked at his reaction, relieved to see him back to his spirited self.





“Alright, I was just answering the phone,” Carmen continued, a playful tone in her voice. “Turned out to be some scruffy old man asking how the house was holding up because of the storm.” She teased, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Chief's forehead.





In one smooth motion, she skillfully snuck the key off his neck, not bothering to ask for permission. It felt like a trivial formality; the key was hers to take, and she had little time for questions.





The wind howled heavily against the house, rattling the windows, but for the first time, Carmen felt an unsettling stillness to the storm. Everything around her—the decor, the clothing, even the flickering lights—seemed like a carefully crafted simulation of the 1930s, a stark contrast to the world she knew in the twenty-first century.





She recalled the menu pop-up from earlier, the old-fashioned handwriting that had felt so out of place. It was as if they were trapped in a computer program that distorted time itself, forcing them to play roles from a bygone era..





Yet, they had the key and the music box. Carmen’s energy crashed as she slumped into the loveseat. The weight of the day pressed down on her, and before she knew it, she fell into a deep sleep, the world around her fading away.

As the storm raged outside, silence enveloped the room, leaving everything in stillness.

 

[Laverna]

Chapter 2: The music box





Chief hated being alone, a sentiment most couldn't understand. After all, he was designed to assist, to be part of a team at the Acme Detective Agency. Carmen had been his first partner, and her absence during their separation had left a hollow space within him.





Now, he found her sprawled across the dark purple cushions of the loveseat, snoring softly in a peaceful slumber. The rhythmic sound of her breathing was comforting, yet he felt a sense of urgency creeping in as he teetered precariously close to the edge of the luxurious chair.





With a quick, clumsy maneuver, he nudged himself against her shoulder, seeking warmth and reassurance. For a moment, he allowed himself to pretend they were back in their old routine, the world outside forgotten, as he settled in for a cozy reprieve beside her. It felt good to be near her again, reminding him that they were together in this strange reality, even after all they had been through.





.The golden key swung gently on its tiny chain, dangling from Carmen's gloved hand, which hung limply off the side of the loveseat.





Cool air flowed up from the art deco floral vent in the floor, causing the key to spin gracefully in circles. Its reflective surface caught the light, creating sharp glimmers that danced across the room.





.In the depths of her slumber, Carmen dreamt of a gerbil trapped inside a plastic ball, rolling helplessly through a labyrinth of towering walls. The creature scurried back and forth, its tiny body bouncing against the barriers, each failed attempt to escape echoing in the silence of her mind. The maze seemed to shift, a chaotic puzzle that kept the little gerbil racing in circles, its frantic energy Wicked giggles escaped Carmen’s lips as the dream continued to unfold, her subconscious reveling in the absurdity of the situation. Perhaps she had simply forgotten, or perhaps she was hoping to forget, the day’s bizarre time-warping events.





Chief, meanwhile, let his mind flicker through a montage of memories, recalling the cases they had solved together in the 1980s. Each image was a reminder of the bond they once shared, and he found comfort in those moments, happily living in the nostalgia of who they used to be.





The room gradually brightened as the warm orange sunlight streamed in, casting a soft glow across the furnishings. It was a new day, and with it came the stirrings of consciousness. For Chief, this moment marked a transition from automatic data filtering to the clarity of conscious thought. He sensed Carmen's awakening through the subtle changes in her breathing, her heartbeat quickening as she shifted beneath her fedora.





“Sweetheart, good morning! Time to rise and shine!” Chief declared with cheerful exuberance, pulling his knees to his chest as he turned to face her. His bright demeanor contrasted sharply with Carmen's sleepy attempt to conceal herself behind her hat.





“Chief, why are you always so chipper in the morning?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. She had grown accustomed to his programmed enthusiasm, but it still puzzled her that his creators had decided mornings should be treated as a time of celebration rather than just another routine to endure.





Carmen instinctively reached for her smartphone, expecting to find it resting on the nightstand beside her. Still caught in the fog of sleep, she half-hoped the 1930s world around her would vanish like a fleeting dream. But as her hands grasped at nothing—no nightstand, no familiar device—the memories of the previous day rushed back, stark and unyielding.





“Chief, could you be a dear and see if there's a clock in the room?” she asked, her voice laced with a sugary sweetness that masked her growing frustration. Unbeknownst to her, she had become alarmingly reliant on her smartphone,





“Happy to help! Let’s see,” Chief replied cheerfully, glancing around the room. From his vantage point, curled up on Carmen’s shoulder, his view was limited. He decided to stand up to get a better look.





Carmen bit her tongue, trying to stifle a yelp as she felt him shift and accidentally stood on her boob. The tiny leather soles of his feet, with their intricate clockwork design, pressed down painfully against her, but she held back her annoyance. .





Chief searched the room for a clock but found none. As he looked around, his tiny hands instinctively reached into his vest pocket. To his surprise, he pulled out a shiny silver pocket watch.





“9:30 AM,” he declared, marveling at the Roman numerals engraved on the watch face. The discovery filled him with a sense of accomplishment, a small victory as he shared the time with Carmen.





“Chief, I never thought I would say this, but could you please move? You’re standing on my—well, you know,” Carmen exclaimed, a mix of annoyance and amusement in her voice as the tiny pressure of his feet began to pinch uncomfortably.





Chief quickly replied, clearly embarrassed, "Ahh, sorry, Carmen." He jumped off her chest, landing lightly by her side, his small frame shifting with a mechanical whir. Carmen exhaled, shaking her head with a smirk.





.Carmen gently patted Chief’s head to reassure him as she pulled herself into a sitting position. She wasn’t mad—just tired. “9:30? I wonder what time I went to sleep then,” she murmured, fighting back a yawn. Her voice was groggy, and the lingering taste of morning breath made her wrinkle her nose slightly.





Carmen curiously examined the key, surprised she hadn’t dropped it in oher sleep. Her pale blue-gray eyes narrowed as she studied its intricate details. The delicate swirls and fake diamonds glimmered in the morning light, catching her eye. It was just a key to the music box, nothing more, yet her natural curiosity had her appreciating its design, turning it over thoughtfully in her hand.





She didn’t want to rush as her brain was reeling, So she allowed the chief to finish his other objectives such as find a makeshift weapon and a thimble.


Carmen gently helped Chief onto the nearby vanity, his tiny feet landing with a soft clink against the pristine collection of trinkets. The vanity stood proudly between a polished dresser and an immaculate writing desk. Once settled, Carmen returned to the loveseat, sinking into its plush cushions, her mind racing with frustration.





She rubbed her temples, irritation bubbling to the surface. “Why can’t I wake up?” she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the stillness of the room. The sudden outburst startled Chief, who nearly lost his balance





“Carmen’s temporarily useless,” he muttered to himself, concern etched on his tiny face. He began to search the vanity, his little gears whirring as he looked for a straight pin and thimble.





.He opened the beautiful, exotic boxes with a strong sense of purpose, surprised by how his automaton doll body was functioning. “Carmen, I found a jade and gold brooch. I’m going to pin it on you,” he chuckled as he lifted it from the box.





“Chief, we don’t need it,” Carmen snapped, reminding him of her knack for keeping everyone under her command running like a well-oiled machine.





“I’m still pinning it on you,” he replied, tired of being controlled. For the moment, he was free from ACME’s grasp, as well as Carmen’s.





He wasn’t leaving her side by choice, but he refused to be her plaything, even if he resembled a child's toy.





.


“Well, why do you want to do that?” Carmen asked. Despite being an exceptional thief and detective, these small, mediocre details often slipped past her finely tuned problem-solving brain.





She never admitted this part of her personality to anyone, but Chief knew it better than anyone. She couldn’t push him away with verbal lashings; instead, she would try to run all over the world and hide when backed into a corner.





“It’s a gesture of kindness among old partners, Carmie,” he replied sweetly as Carmen finally stood up, attempting to be nice to Chief. However, she found the situation overwhelming and fought the urge to have a full-blown sensory meltdown.





She knelt down on her knees; allowing him access to her. “Go ahead, I’m just in a cranky mood.” She muttered as she watched her reflection in the mirror.


It appeared slightly pixelated but she brushed the notion off as her senses being overworked.





She half expected him to stab her in the chest, recalling how he had stood on her earlier. But he skillfully avoided any mishaps, only grazing her cranberry red coat as he pinned the brooch.





“Great job. Thank you,” Carmen said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Her attempts at gratitude often came out awkwardly, as if she were trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It was a quirk of hers—no matter the situation, expressing thanks usually turned into a comedy of errors.





“That's my girl,” Chief chuckled before asking Carmen to help him look for the needle and thimble.





“Since when did I belong to you, tin man?” Carmen replied, faking anger but finding Chief’s attempt to claim her hilarious.





“Since 1985. But if you truly love someone, you don’t control them; you watch from afar and hope they return safely.” He laughed as he opened another box. This one was cardboard and contained a cigar. Neither of them needed it, so they quickly closed it.





“Hmm, I guess I love you too,” Carmen mumbled, her breath brushing against his neck. In that moment, she felt completely at ease, fully in her element as she playfully toyed with everyone’s emotions.








Eventually, they found the thimble and the straight needle for Chief. A celebratory “yay!” echoed in the room.





Carmen covered her ears. “No, it’s not a yay, silly disembodied voice,” she laughed.





Chief leveled up from level 0 to level 1 in the game, earning the skill "Stab."





“Great, now he can stab me,” Carmen said with a sarcastic whine.





Carmen's heart raced as she frantically searched for the lock set, determined not to let Chief get the better of her. Every moment felt like an eternity as she rifled through the clutter, her mind racing with thoughts of defeat. Just when she was about to lose hope, her eyes fell upon a pink and purple striped hat box tucked away in the corner. With a surge of excitement, she knelt down and pulled it aside, revealing the lock set hidden beneath. She picked it up, a triumphant smile creeping across her face. Now, all that remained was to find the elusive hidden passageway.








This was right up Carmen’s alley. Every movement she made was deliberate, her eyes sharp as she scanned the room, then the hallway, and finally the small nook where the phone was mounted to the wall. She worked methodically, her instincts guiding her as she subtly shifted objects, searching for something hidden just out of sight.





Chief was tucked safely into her coat pocket, nestled against her chest. She’d felt he needed the extra security while she worked her magic.





Her fingers drifted over the spines of books lining the shelf beneath the phone, when suddenly—there. Her fingertips grazed something strange. The surface wasn’t quite right, smooth like plywood, but cleverly painted to look like an ordinary book.





A quiet smile tugged at her lips. "Eureka," she whispered.





Carefully, Carmen lifted the false book, revealing a concealed metal hinge. With a soft groan, the bookcase shifted, sliding open to reveal a hidden passage. The dim light barely reached beyond the threshold, where a staircase spiraled down into a shadowy, forgotten cellar.





“Hold on, Chief. I think we’ve stumbled onto a speakeasy,” Carmen whispered with a chuckle, her fingers brushing against the smooth, polished railing in the dark.





The stairwell was pristine, the banister cool and solid beneath her hand. Carefully, she stepped onto the first wooden stair, which creaked ever so slightly under her weight. Though new, the steps had a subtle give, and she shifted her weight cautiously onto her right foot.





In most heists, Carmen moved with reckless elegance, gliding through danger without a second thought, as if dancing through her own choreographed crime. But not this time. When someone else was tugging the strings, like a twisted puppet master hidden in the shadows, she knew better than to leap blindly into the rhythm. This game demanded caution. Here, mistakes were more than just missteps—they could be fatal.





And she wasn’t ready for the final curtain just yet.





"Congratulations, you both have reached level one. Carmen has earned the skill set: Analysis."





The disembodied voice echoed through the stairwell, startling Carmen enough that she nearly missed her footing on the dark step. She caught herself just in time, fingers tightening around the smooth railing.





The voice sounded different this time—more alive, which only fueled her irritation.





"Who are you?" Carmen demanded, her voice steady, though she hoped for a response. Silence greeted her, thick and unsettling.


No one replied.

 

[Jade]

That's a very good story it sounds like both Carmen and the Chief are in some weird computer game.

 

[Laverna]

That's a very good story it sounds like both Carmen and the Chief are in some weird computer game.

Your correct

this is an au I been planning. But it’s not just them. The whole country of the United States is stuck in this game. So technically you are too.

((Carmen is autistic in this story and chief is her helper. Did you know they use robots similar to chief irl to help autistics??))

 

[Jade]

Your correct

this is an au I been planning. But it’s not just them. The whole country of the United States is stuck in this game. So technically you are too.

I am too?!?! Uh, did you forget to ask me first? I'm just reading your story while I'm continued with my own.

 

[Laverna]

I am too?!?! Uh, did you forget to ask me first? I'm just reading your story while I'm continued with my own.

I’m using you as reference. If this au was real. Every citizen in the USA is forced to play. You aren’t in the story. I’m just painting an image of how many are effected

 

[Jade]

I’m using you as reference. If this au was real. Every citizen in the USA is forced to play. You aren’t in the story. I’m just painting an image of how many are effected

Now I understand, Laverna, thank you and continued with your story.

 

[Laverna]

Chapter 3: Speakeasy
As they descended the steps, each creak echoed through the silence, but the stairs held firm, sturdy enough to keep them from plunging into the unknown below.





Without warning, the lights blazed to life—bright, glaring, and far too sudden. Carmen flinched, pulling her hat low over her eyes to shield herself from the blinding glow. There were no switches, no motion sensors, nothing to explain the eerie timing of it all. It was as though the room had been waiting for them.





The air thickened with the scent of tobacco, moonshine, and whiskey. Glasses clinked, and laughter rang out—a cacophony of voices, as if a hidden crowd had come to life in an instant. But it wasn’t just the sound; the very atmosphere shifted, filled with an energy that hadn’t been there before. None of it made sense—Carmen was sure she would've heard something from the stairs if this gathering had been real.





She hesitated, eyes narrowing beneath her brim. Something wasn’t right.





“Great, the game caught our boss too,” Vic the Slick said calmly, his voice smooth as silk, as if he had already hatched a plan to scam everyone in the room.





He wore his signature green suit and sipped whiskey on the rocks, the ice clinking softly as he gestured casually.





Dazzle Annie lounged on top of a grand piano, her laughter echoing through the lively room, where the sounds of clinking glasses and animated chatter filled the air.





.“At least you guys are alright,” Carmen sighed, a wave of relief washing over her as she recognized some of her Vile henchmen.





“Why wouldn’t we be alright, Auntie Carmen?” Patty Larceny replied from her perch at the bar, sipping on a bubbly, light pink champagne.





Carmen smiled genuinely, comforted by the sight of six of her agents accounted for. “Patty Larceny, Vic the Slick, Dazzle Annie, Snarla Swing, Jaqueline Hyde, and Bug Zapper,” she muttered under her breath, taking in the familiar faces.





The bar was oddly unattended, yet the drinks seemed to pour themselves, each glass filling effortlessly as laughter and chatter filled the air around them, creating a surreal sense of camaraderie.








Carmen settled onto the barstool next to Patty, ordering herself a simple Coke float. She wasn’t in the mood for anything stronger.





“So, Patty, how long has everyone been down here?” Carmen asked, raising an eyebrow as a Coke float appeared before her, served in a cold beer glass as if by magic.





Patty looked at Carmen, her eyes wide with panic, silently screaming for help. Reality struck hard—her friends had been turned into NPCs, and Carmen felt the weight of the situation settle heavily on her shoulders. She didn’t have the skill level needed to free them.





Carmen nodded, taking another sip of her float while scanning the lively scene, the vibrant chatter swirling around her.





“Don’t worry, Patty. I’ll use Analysis,” Carmen declared, pinching herself to access the game menu.





As the interface flickered to life in her mind, she realized the harsh truth: she needed to gain levels to expand her gang. But right now, she didn’t have enough coins or slots to purchase any of her agents back from this digital purgatory.





Carmen set Chief down on the bar, leaning in to ask for his thoughts on the situation.





His mechanical eyes blinked in response, processing the information. “Sounds like slavery to me,” he whistled, his tone laced with disapproval. “I don’t like this at all.”





“Wait, the music box! Please tell me you brought it and the key with you,” he exclaimed.





Carmen shook her head, signaling for him to keep an eye on the others. Without another word, she raced back upstairs, determined to retrieve the two items she had left behind.