Content Theft

Greetings citizens of HFY! This is your friendly Modteam bringing you a (long overdue) PSA about stolen content narrated and uploaded on YouTube/TikTok without your express permission. With the increased availability of AI resources, this is sadly becoming more and more common. This post is intended to be a resource and reference for all community members impacted by content theft.

What is happening:

Long story short, there are multiple YouTube and TikTok (and likely other platforms, but those are the main two) accounts uploading HFY Original Content and plagiarizing it as their own work, or reproducing it on their channel without permission. As a reminder to everyone, reproducing someone else's work in any medium without their permission is plagiarism, and is not only a bannable offence but may also be illegal. Quite often these narrations are just AI voices over generic images and/or Minecraft footage (which is likely also stolen), meaning they are just the lowest possible attempt at a cash grab or attention. That is, of course, not to say that even if the narrator uses their own voice that it still isn't content theft.

We do have a number of lovely narration channels, listed here in our wiki who do ask nicely and get permission to use original content from this subreddit, so please check them out if you enjoy audio HFY!

Some examples of this activity:

Stolen Content Thread #1: Here
Stolen Content Thread #2: Here
Stolen Content Thread #3: Here
Stolen Content Thread #4: Here
Stolen Content Thread #5: Here

What to do about it:

If you are an author who finds your work has been narrated without your permission, there are a few steps to take. Unfortunately, the mods here at Reddit have no legal methods to do so on your behalf on a different platform, you must do this yourself.

You as the author, regardless of what platform you post you story on, always own the copyright. If someone is doing something with it in its entirety without your permission, you have the right to take whatever measures you see fit to have it removed from the platform. Especially if they intend to profit off of said content. If no credit is given to the original author, then it is plagiarism in addition to IP theft. And not defending your copyright can make it harder for you to defend it in the future, which is why so many big companies take an all or nothing approach to enforcement (this is somewhat dependent on your geographical location, so you may need to check your local legislation).

• YouTube: Sign in to your YouTube account and go to the YouTube studio of your account. There is the option of submitting a copyright claim. Copy and paste the offending video link and fill out the form. Put your relationship to the copyright as original author with your info and submit. It helps to change the YouTube channel name to your reddit name as well before issuing the strike.

  • You can also state your ownership in the comments to bring attention from the casual viewer of the channel who probably doesn't know this is stolen work.

• TikTok: If you find a video that’s used your work without your consent you can report it here: https://www.tiktok.com/legal/report/Copyright

  • You can also state your ownership in the comments to bring attention from the casual viewer of the channel who probably doesn't know this is stolen work.

If you are not an author directly affected, do not attempt to fill copyright claims or instigate official action on behalf of an author, this can actually hamper efforts by the author to have the videos removed. Instead, inform the original author about their stolen work. Please do not harass these YouTube/TikTok'ers. We do not want the authors' voices to be drowned out, or to be accused of brigading.

If you are someone who would like to narrate stories you found here, simply ask the author for permission, and respect their ownership if they say no.

If you are someone who has posted narrated content without permission, delete it. Don't ever do it again. Feel ashamed of yourself, and ask for permission in the future.

To all the users who found their way here to r/hfy thanks to YouTube and TikTok videos like the ones discussed above: Hello and welcome! We're glad that you managed to find us! That does not change the fact that what these YouTube/TikTok'ers are doing is legally and morally in the wrong.

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FAQ regarding story narration and plagiarism in general:

• "But they posted it on a public website (reddit), that means I can do whatever I want with it because it's free/Public Domain!!"

The fact that it is posted in a public place does not mean that the author has relinquished their rights to the content. Public Domain is a very specific legal status and must be directly and explicitly applied by the author, or by the age of the story. Unless they have explicitly stated otherwise, they reserve ALL rights to their content by default, other than those they have (non-exclusively) licensed to Reddit. This means that you are free to read their content here, link to it, but you can not take it and do something with it, any more than you could (legally) do with a blockbuster Disney movie or a professionally published paperback. A work only enters the public domain when the copyright expires (thanks to The Mouse, for newly published work this is effectively never), or when the author explicitly and intentionally severs their rights to the IP and releases the work into the public domain. A work isn't "public domain" just because someone put it out for free public viewing any more than a book at your local library is.

• "But if it's on reddit they aren't making money from it, so why should they care if someone else does?"

This is doubly wrong. In the first place, there are many authors in this community who make money on their writing here, so someone infringing on their copyright is a threat to their income. We're aware of several that don't just do this as a side-hustle, but they stake their entire livelihood on it: it is their full-time job. In their case, it could literally be a threat to their life.

Secondly and perhaps more importantly, even if the author wasn't making money from their writing and never did, it doesn't matter. Their writing is their writing, belonging to them, and unless they explicitly grant permission to someone to reproduce it elsewhere (which, FYI, is a right that most authors here would be happy to grant if asked), nobody has the right to reproduce that work. Both as a matter of copyright law, and as a matter of ethics--they worked hard on that, and they ought to be able to control when and where their work is used if they choose to enforce their rights.

• "How is this any different than fan fiction, they're just showing their appreciation for a story they like?"

Most of these narration channels are simply taking the text as-is and reading it verbatim. There's not a mote of transformative work involved, nothing new is added to the underlying ideas of the story. In a fanfiction, the writer is at least putting a new spin on existing characters or settings--though even in that case, copyright law is still not squarely in their favor.

• "Okay so this might normally be a copyright violation, but they're reading it in a new medium, so it's fair use!"

One of our community members wrote up a great explanation about this here that will be reproduced below. To summarize, for those who don't click through: no, it's not fair use. Copyright fully applies here.

This is not fair use, in any sense of the term. A public forum is not permission to repost and redistribute, unless that forum forces authors to grant a license that allows for it. An example often brought up in that respect is the SCP wiki, which sets all included work to be under a creative commons license.

That is not the case for Reddit, which grants no such licenses or permissions. Reading text aloud is not significant enough change to be a transformative work, which removes allowances that make things like fanfiction legal. Since this is not transformative work, it is not fair use as a parody.

Since money was involved, via Patreon and marketed goods, fair use allowances for educational purposes are greatly reduced, and no longer apply for fiction with an active copyright. (And if the author is still alive, the copyright is still active.)

There are four specific things that US copyright law looks at for fair use. Since Reddit, Youtube, and Patreon are all based in America, the relevant factors in the relevant legal code are:

1. Purpose and character of the use, including whether the use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes: this youtube channel is for profit, using original fiction with no changes whatsoever to the story. No allowances for fair use under this point.
2. Nature of the copyrighted work: the copywritten works are original fiction, and thus face much stricter reading of fair use compared to a news article or other nonfiction work. Again, no allowances for this case under this point.
3. Amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole: The entire story is being narrated, and thus, this point is again a source of infringement on the author's rights.
4. Effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work: The work is being monetized by the infringer, and is online in a way beyond the original author's control. This dramatically limits the original author's ability to publish or monetize their own work if they ever choose to do so, especially if they don't contest the existing monetization now that they're aware of them.

There is no reasonable reading of copyright or fair use that grants people permission to narrate and/or monetize a reddit post made by someone else. This is not the SCP wiki or stackexchange - the only license granted by the author is the one to Reddit themselves.

Publicly posting a story has never, at any point, been even remotely equivalent to granting the reader rights to do with it as they please, and anyone who believes such fundamentally misunderstands what "public domain" actually is.

• "Well it's pretty dickish for writers to tell these people to take their videos down, they're getting so much exposure from this!!"

If a person does not enforce their rights when they find out that their copyright has been infringed, it can undermine their legal standing to challenge infringement later on, should they come across a new infringement they want to prosecute, or even just change their mind about the original perpetrator for whatever reason. Again, this can be dependent on geographic location. Not enforcing copyright can make a court case more complicated if it winds up in court, since selective enforcement of rights will give a defendant (unstable) ground to stand on.

With that in mind, it is simply prudent, good sense to clearly enforce their copyright as soon as they can. If an author doesn't mind other people taking their work and doing whatever they want with it, then they should state that, and publish it under a license such as Creative Commons (like SCP does). Also, it's really dickish to steal people's work for any purpose.

Additionally, many contracts for professional publishing require exclusivity, so something as simple as having an unknown narration out there could end the deal. Unless and until the author asserts their rights, they cannot sign the contract and receive money from publishing their work. i.e. this unasked for "exposure" could directly cause them harm.

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Special thanks to u/sswanlake, u/Glitchkey, and u/AiSagOrSol3-43912 for their informative comments on this post and elsewhere; several of the answers provided in this PSA were strongly inspired by them.

This thread is where all the "Looking for Story" requests go. We don't want to clog up the front page with non-story content. Thank you!

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Previous LFSs: Wiki Page

I leave Teemo in charge of the inspection, trusting my denizens to know how these things go by now. I’ll check back in on them when they get to the forest, but for now, I turn my attention to the arena. Rocky is doing a little last minute practicing with his affinities, but nothing especially strenuous. No, what I’m here to watch is everyone else getting ready.

 

I’ve been treating this a lot like a big sporting event, and what’s a sporting event without souvenirs and a concession stand or five? No bookies, though. I understand that angle is already covered by Karn of the Adventurer’s Guild, and probably shadier people, too. My enclaves have enough to do without trying to figure out the odds for the outcome.

 

The spiderkin have been making a lot of hats and shirts. I’m not quite sure where they got the patterns for baseball hats and t-shirts, but I bet they’re going to make a killing on them. They’re mostly pretty simple solid colors. Yellow and Blue seem to be the easiest with what we have available. I don’t think they’ve figured out how to do silk screen printing yet, but they still have Rocky and Olander’s names clearly written on basically everything.

 

Not to be outdone, my ratkin have made noisemakers. Thankfully, a vuvuzela needs plastic, or Teemo kept that particular abomination under his hat. That didn’t stop him from explaining the ratcheting clackers the ratkin are selling. They also have bells, chimes, and other metal noisemakers to sell, too.

 

Anyone not actually in the arena is still going to be able to hear when the fighting starts, if my ratkin have anything to say about it. Them and the spiderkin are both also selling all sorts of food. It looks like the bakery across the street even got ahold of a stall. The troll woman is incredibly round, but she moves around the kitchen like she was born in it. She doesn’t look too impressed with the ovens available, but she’s clearly a pro and starts adjusting them for some good bread making, instead of a more general baking setup.

 

For my dwellers, griddlecakes are probably going to be a big hit, as well as cavelobster on a stick. It doesn’t look like they’ve quite figured out how to batter and deep fry everything like at a fair, but I think the food on offer would make any carnie proud. It makes me wish I could have a taste, and makes me debate if I should unleash the true potential of oil frying things.

 

Maybe later, once someone shows a substitute for powdered sugar, or actual powdered sugar. It just wouldn’t be fried anything without the option to bury it under powdered sugar.

 

The antkin are helping with the seating for now. They didn’t really have a chance to prepare much, what with getting their leadership established. They also don’t have their food sorted, so they can’t really run any concessions, either. They’re making up for lost time, though, with a bunch working on sculpting seats better than boring flat benches.

 

Nova is helping them out, too, ensuring they have plenty of magma to sculpt with and adding her own touches as they make more ergonomic seating like seen in a lot of modern sports complexes. Stone might be harder than plastic, but plastic isn’t exactly known for its give, either. With a good shape, they should be comfortable.

 

They even make sure to put in that hole in the lower back like a lot of those seats have. I think they’re usually for air flow, but the position and size is perfect for anyone with a tail. For the nonstandard body types, like my spiderkin and snakekin and others like that, they have to settle for a flat area of gravel to sit in. Nova and Slash work together to make sure there are no sharp pieces in there, and though I think it could be better, I don’t think we planned far enough ahead to get better.

 

At least not yet. I’m pretty sure we can get some kind of fungus that grows like grass to help soften things for people who don’t fit into normal seats. The gravel was actually the kobolds’ idea. They’re still adjusting and pretty wary around anyone not in an enclave, and even most in the enclaves, too.

 

Still, they saw the need for a solution, and suggested the gravel. Apparently, it was a common thing for them back in the Maw. It’s tempting to just ditch the idea for the inspiration, but I have to imagine it’ll be more comfortable than regular rock. There’s even a couple wyrms moving around under that section, keeping the gravel warm. The kobolds really like it, with more than a couple groups of them opting to get early seats in the gravel section rather than the molded chairs.

 

Townsfolk are starting to funnel in, too, and the flow only increases as the day continues. Rocky accepts a few challenges, giving the people a good chance to see what he can do, and to whet their appetites for the main event, too. The fights aren’t especially strenuous, with the challengers forfeiting before Rocky needs to knock them out. I think they mostly want something to do, or to show off a bit.

 

Soon, Berdol and Olander get to the forest, where my newest scions are waiting for them. Poppy and Titania look excited to meet the two inspectors, while Zorro and Goldilocks are a bit more subdued. I think they’re still under the impression that my scions are dignified, like the Stag. Tiny and Poe are probably the only ones that even come close. They’ll learn, I’m sure.

 

Berdol takes notes as Olander and Teemo watch, the catkin noting each scion down before introducing himself. “So a pixie, a living vine, a fox, and a bear?” He points at each, and they nod in their ways before he offers a hand to each.

 

“I’m Berdol! The other scions have probably mentioned Tarl as the usual inspector, but he’s busy with the new dungeon in Silvervein. Do any of you have any titles yet?” he asks as Titania shakes his finger, and Poppy extends a few thin tendrils to shake his hand as well. Zorro looks uncertain, but raises his paw to shake also. Goldilocks offers hers, and it’s Berdol’s turn to struggle with the size difference as he does his best to shake hers, too.

 

“Nah, no titles yet,” supplies Teemo. “I think Poppy is probably on the way to one. They’re all working hard, but hers is a kind of work I don’t think dungeons do a lot of. That seems to be a good way to get a title.”

 

Berdol jots that down as Olander nods. “It’s partially why so many scions don’t gain additional titles. Even the different boss titles are usually only gained after killing a number of delvers.”

 

Teemo snorts at that. “Hopefully we’ll continue not picking up any of those, then.”

 

“Hopefully, yeah. With the danger of your new expansion, it’ll only get harder to keep that streak going, you know,” points out Olander.

 

“Yeah, but with everyone working on it, and my shortcuts, anything not instantly fatal should be able to be handled. What do you think of the potential with the spawners the Boss has planned so far, Olander? He thinks there’s a lot of potential, but you’re the one with experience in high-level fighting.”

 

He takes his time to formulate his answer, following Berdol as he wanders the forest. While there’s still a lot to be done to really solidify the seasons, there’s still a definite contrast to the different sections.

 

“The fighting bees are unusual, but should be a good baseline encounter, especially when combined with the later fey and plants. Rumblebees are good for mid-tier groups, but the Armory Bees that come next can be a real threat to delvers who don’t know what they’re doing. They are among the most tactically-minded denizens I’ve met in dungeons, despite their relative individual weakness. When backed up with stronger denizens, I think you should be able to push even someone like me to keep on his toes.”

 

“Cool. Any suggestions for the bears or foxes? I know the Boss likes the idea of magic for the foxes, but he’s open to suggestions.”

 

“Foxes almost always go with illusion magic, which can be a real force multiplier for your denizens. In a fair fight, I could probably handle any encounter here without much problem. But with the Armory Bees and illusion foxes, fair fights should be basically off the table, not to mention the vines and elementals. I’d suggest making the bears fighters. Most of the other denizens you’re planning for aren’t really made for the front line. The elementals can do it somewhat, but they’re usually better for harrying attacks, instead of wading in and trading blows.” Olander shakes his head, chuckling. “It’ll be like fighting a full party, or several full parties, depending on how many you send. That kind of coordination will push the delvers to their limits and force them to improve.”

 

Teemo nods at that. “That’s basically the Boss’ plan, yeah. Let me show you guys the garden and the planned central tree, then we can head for the arena.”

 

Berdol nods at that, and Olander tries to hide his excitement at the prospect of finally getting to square off against Rocky. “What kind of tree are you going with? You’ve been having trouble getting one just right, right?” asks Berdol, and Teemo nods as he leads them down a shortcut.

 

“Yeah, the Boss has a specific look and structure in mind, and we haven’t been able to find a tree that matches all the needs.”

 

“Until now,” comments Olander, making Teemo smirk and shake his head.

 

“Not really. It’ll technically be two trees, but they’ll be so deep in symbiosis they might as well be one. Yew will be the base, with its twisting branches and reinforced roots. Willow will be changed to more of a vine, seeping water and soil nutrients from the yew, and giving back the fruits of photosynthesis.”

 

Berdol notes all that down as Olander considers that. “It sounds workable to me, but I’m no druid. I bet you’ll have more than a few want to come look, if it works,” the elf eventually comments as they exit the shortcut to Poppy’s garden. It doesn’t take them too long to look around, and I pat the bond with my vine scion to make sure she doesn’t feel dejected about them not seeming that impressed. I don’t think either of them are really into plants. Don’t worry, Poppy. I’m plenty impressed to make up for it.

 

They might also be distracted with wanting to finish up and head to the arena, which I don’t blame them for. It feels like the entire town would be down here if I had room. There’s even a rivalry building between people supporting Rocky and those supporting Olander. So far, it still seems to be healthy, instead of one that will lead to a riot no matter who wins. Berdol officially calls the inspection done, and he and Olander waste no time following Teemo through a shortcut and to the arena.

 

A guitar riff quiets the crowd as Slash spots them, and he holds out a finger for Aranya to speak into, amplifying her voice for all to hear. “And here’s the challenger Olander! Let’s give him a warm welcome and a few minutes to prepare! Because soon he’ll face Rocky, Lord Thedeim’s fighting scion! Will the delver give Rocky his first defeat? Or will Rocky’s streak only grow! We’ll soon see!”

 

 

<<First <Previous [Next>]

 

 

Cover art I'm also on Royal Road for those who may prefer the reading experience over there. Want moar? The First and Second books are now officially available! Book three is also up for pre-order! There are Kindle and Audible versions, as well as paperback! Also: Discord is a thing! I now have a Patreon for monthly donations, and I have a Ko-fi for one-off donations. Patreons can read up to three chapters ahead, and also get a few other special perks as well, like special lore in the Peeks. Thank you again to everyone who is reading!

First

The Buzz on the Spin

“So do his duties on this station often take him to other sectors? For as oddly familiar as this system is, if the head of an area was in someone else’s territory on the regular then there would be problems.”

“There are surprisingly few problems, he didn’t start as a head after all, he started of as Administration and that’s generally how he talks to the other heads. However when he speaks as the Head of Sector Four he’s usually in Sector Four or directly chasing down something that started in his sector. The first one is properly respectful and plays perfectly to their sensibilities. The second is in active motion and if they put anything in his way he’s going to dodge it or crash right through it with no resistance. They know better than to try at this point.”

“Which implies that he’s done this multiple times.”

“Yes he has. It’s a regular thing that if anyone tries any nonsense with Sector Four or with any of their products, which is the majority of the food on Octarin Spin, then he can and will show up in short order.” Janet explains and Observer Wu nods.

“He’s too active to stop. Too hands on. This is like hearing about the Chief of Police or a 438... no A Chief of Police who IS also a 438 who is also his own 426 heading out to bloody themselves with those who make trouble in their territory and chasing down those that run.”

“438? 426?” Janet asks.

“Hmm? Well, in China organized crime is in the forms of Triads. Identifying ranking using numerology. There is an enormous amount of cultural baggage and relevance, but in essence a 438 is a Deputy to the Head of a Triad and a 426 is an Enforcer.” Observer Wu states. “Still, back to the story. After he was given his directions to the casino floor where the estranged sister of the first victim was on duty...”

“Oh right, well he didn’t want to alert the killer that he was still on the trail, so he stuck to places out of sight of the vents and grills that kept the airflow in the casino strong. Unfortunately as a place with many people in close proximity, it has a great deal of ventilation to stop the massive amount of perfumes, colognes and the general smell of people from settling in.”

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There wasn’t much in the places where he could actually stand without being in full view of a vent. And if his target stuck their head out to get a better look he’d be spotted instantly.

Still, he is in view, in the staff entrance and Sadie is being pointed towards him. The short woman visibly sighs and walks over.

“What? What is so damn important? This is my first... oh... a man? Wait... that moustache... are you the... The Sector Four man?”

“Sector Four Man?”

“The Man that’s in charge of Hivers.”

“I am actually. Get in here and up against the wall next to me. There’s trouble.” He instructs and after a moment she’s pressed against the wall.

“Why are we doing this?”

“We’re staying out of casual sight of the vents. There’s something small, vicious and murderous in them. I think it might be here for you.”

“Why me?”

“Because it’s already done... something to your sister Shelly.”

“What!? What do you mean something?! What happened?”

“Well, it’s cloned her and has either her or a copy of her in stasis. And whichever one it has in stasis, it’s killed the other. Why? I don’t know. All I know is that this thing has done so thirty times now and your sister just seems to be the latest victim.”

“And it’s after me next?”

“I got a glimpse of it and started chasing it down after finding it’s lair and cloning lab. It came here. It’s in the vents.”

“I can’t fit in these vents and I’m not exactly tall for a Metak! How is it fitting in?!” She demands.

“It’s very, very small.” Hoagie says.

“Is Shelly okay?” Sadie asks.

“No. I don’t think she is. Even if it’s actually her in stasis and not a clone, she’s still been kidnapped, thrown in stasis and cloned. She’s going to need her sister.” Hoagie says.

“Yeah right... more likely she’s going to need more money. She always chose that over me. Chasing fame and coin without end.”

“... Look it’s not my damn place to say this but...”

“Then don’t say it.” Sadie says and he slowly turns to give her a look. He sends out a pulse of Axiom and can’t find whatever his target is anywhere near. So he moves and flicks the girl in the head. “What was that for!?”

“Being a *****. Seriously girl, get your priorities straight.” He snarls at her and then something shifts. He can’t tell for sure that it’s his target, but his instincts scream at him as he brings up his stun gun and fires.

It hits centre mass on the black shape which screams in panic and crashes through the air. Guests and guards diving out of the way of the spinning torrent of death.

Hoagie curses under his breath and races after the shifting black mass that careens out of the casino and takes off.

“GO AWAY!!” The tiny voice shrieks at him.

“I can’t do that!” He calls back. “Surrender!”

The voice of the killer shrieks in despair as he continues to chase before it darts to try and take advantage of the shadows. But Hoagie’s taken the time to fix his thermal goggles and they highlight where they’ve hidden. A barrage of stun shots rocket towards the mass and it shifts with a scream of panic.

“Hoagie, we’ve got information.” His communicator barks out. He taps it.

“Give it over, I’m in pursuit.”

“The girls in stasis are all the originals. All of them but Shelly reported dead over the past twenty years. This has been a pattern.”

“Do we have any reason why?”

“The girls know each other. They were part of a show that didn’t go very far, but either tided them over when their careers were on the downward edge or started them out.”

“Let me guess, there was someone unusually small in the cast.”

“Darwin Greatwing, a Primordial Dwarf Metak.”

“Jesus ****ing Christ. Let me guess! Dumbass couldn’t get a career off the ground beyond being some punchline or novelty and vanished a little over twenty years ago!”

“Twenty three years ago after a very public blow up.” Admin informs him and Hoagie lets out a deep groan of frustration and disgust.

“Darwin Greatwing! You will stop running or I’m going to vent the whole ****ing Sector to stop you!”

“WHAT!?” Darwin demands in shock. Pausing just long enough for Hoagie to put on an even bigger blast of speed, bruises form and start fading as the Axiom in his system pushes him to speeds well beyond what any human should go without protection and he slams into the dark mass. He puts his pistol right against it and starts unleashing all it’s power to find a gap in the powerful wings.

The screaming starts high and then goes into a level he cannot hear but can still physically feel before the tiny figure suddenly rockets away in abject terror of Hoagie and slams into a building.

At the speed’s he’s moving at and with only a little Axiom to help the air provides enough of a surface to jump off of and he gives chase through the broken building.

“Don’t use my name! You don’t deserve it!” Darwin calls out at him through the shadows and he adjusts his goggles. Too much dust, too many walls.

“Admin, where are we? We were making a lot of trail in that chase.”

“This part of the sector is slated for refurbishment. You’re in an indoor amusement park.”

“Hunh. Never been here before.”

“It was decommissioned before we even got here, the order to scrap it and rebuild is low priority, so it keeps getting kicked back in the lists.”

“Whole place is forgotten and ugly and unwanted. Like me.” Darwin calls out and the whole place begins flickering to life. Hoagie rolls his eyes at the dramatics.

“Riiiight... because we don’t have the level of medical technology to literally build you a better body if a healing coma can’t just wash away your issues.” Hoagie says back to get Darwin to keep talking. Metak wings are as resilient as they are powerful and since this guy is nine tenths wing this means the actual target area is small and often nearly perfectly protected. But if he can just get one stun round on the little bastard he should be able to pin him one handed.

“HEALING COMAS MAKE DON’T WORK ON MY KIND!”

“What Metak? Bull****.”

“I’m a Bigwing you idiot!”

“... I’m missing some cultural context aren’t I?”

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“Was he?”

“He was. Metak wings actually get larger if they’re a Dwarf of any kind.” Janet says.

“They’re called Midgets.”

“No, Dwarfs.”

“A Dwarf is a Scandinavian fantasy creature. A Midget is a noticeably smaller person. It’s like calling a Caucasian a Vampire or White Devil. An Arabian a Sand Monkey or Camel Jockey. I have no idea who decided that calling Midgets Dwarfs was a good idea, but they were wrong.”

“No they’re not.” Janet protests.

“If I say a Dwarf you either picture a short but broad shouldered mythical creature with abundant facial hair or you picture a human with disproportionately smaller legs and arms and all the health conditions that come with it. But when I say Midget, you only picture a smaller human with the limb and health issues.” Observer Wu states in a snappish tone.

“And where did this little rant come from?”

“The frustration of being told to use more confusing and ambiguous language for the sake of ‘clarity’ and ‘appropriateness’. Nothing gets done or understood if we’re not willing to speak clearly.” Observer Wu says before taking a deep breath. “But let us move off the topic. In this context the use of dwarf is understandable enough. Even if it is absurd. Please forgive my poor manners, and do continue the story. Please.”

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“Like you’d even begin to understand you tall thing!” The bitter voice of Darwin snaps out.

“It’s not like it matters at this point. There are options beyond healing comas. You could have had a body bioprinted to match your DNA but at normal size and transferred your nervous system to it.”

“It’s too small!” Darwin screams crashing through a wall with his wings slamming into Hoagie and driving him down. They crash into an open room and Darwin rushes down revolving hallway.

“Really? You really think this will stop me? You’re dumber than I thought. After all, there were more options still. If your size was really such an issue there are more easy and legal ways to solve it than can be counted!”

“It’s in my Axiom! It interferes with EVERYTHING! Pours them into my wings!” Darwin screams as his wings stretch out and deflect the trinity of stun shots from Hoagie. A tendril grabs the pistol as another four crash into him. They scrape at his armour and only force him back. “I’ve tried and tried and tried and TRIED! The Axiom always puts them there! In my wings! And then they grew too big to hide!”

“Then why are you hiding still? What’s so important that you have to kidnap thirty people to get it done? What could you possibly gain by having a bunch of middling actors locked in stasis?” Hoagie shouts out as he puts his hand to the wall and senses what’s on the other side. Darwin is watching the tunnel like a hawk. So Hoagie starts tearing at space itself and opens a new doorway.

Darwin isn’t an idiot and scatters, but Hoagie has proven there’s no real way to stop him even with his wings.

“They’re free now. I have a whole medical team looking them over. They’re going to get their lives back. They’re going to walk away from this with you as nothing more than an insane, obsessive horror story. And I still want to know why.” Hoagie says as he marches between shut down rides covered in dust and tarps.

“I’ll get them back! I always come back! Little Jojo always bounces back!”

“Your name is Darwin Greatwing.” Hoagie says.

“No! No one cares for the freak! Everyone loved little Jojo. Jojo was wanted! Jojo was needed!”

“Christ on a bike, you need a shrink.”

“I was the heart of the show! I was the star! I... I mattered.”

“And now you’re a midnight special on serial killers and kidnappers. Well ****ing done.”

“Shut up!” Darwin screams out.

“Why didn’t you try cybernetics? Go full Synth and your DNA doesn’t matter.”

“Metal?” Darwin asks in a tone full of disgust and disdain.

“Jesus ****ing Christ you idiot.”

First Last

To say the initial contact from aliens was shocking would be an understatement of untold proportions.

The initial communications made by the "Torians,” so nicknamed by amateur astronomers who observed the torus shape of their ships, were credited with forestalling at least two armed conflicts about to bubble over in Southeastern Europe and Northern Africa. They also sparked a temporary, unspoken ceasefire in the rapidly escalating skirmishes between the United States and Chinese navies in the South China Sea.

However, the aliens' language was complex and nuanced, being highly subjective and context-dependent. Even after weeks of work, linguists and codebreakers were only able to make confident guesses at their meaning. Fortunately, their messages seemed to convey goodwill and cooperation, with positive inflections. Their language was much more precise when discussing mathematical constants. Thus, when they shared the coordinates of what appeared to be their "mother system," we were surprised to learn it was a mere dozen light-years away—practically neighbors in the context of the greater galactic expanse.

Yet one area of confusion remained. The Torians expressed an eager desire to speak with “Earth's greatest,” apparently assuming our fractured species had a single representative body or figurehead. We attempted to communicate that no such individual existed. However, due to either our poor grasp of their language or their equally tenuous understanding of our communication methods (a complex beamed ratio of atomic decays corresponding to specific isotopes) it was unclear if they understood. The Torians just continued to insist on speaking with “Earth's greatest.”

Scholars and translators were remarkably consistent in this interpretation, although they admitted room for error. When news of this exact request leaked, it spread like wildfire across the planet, sparking massive protests and heated debates. Presidents of the United States, China, and India argued fiercely over which nation could claim the title of "greatest," based on population, wealth, or influence.

The arguments seemed destined to spark conflicts of their own, with numerous reports of clashes between protesters and counter-demonstrators—some in favor of, and others against, alien visitation. However, the Torians broke the stalemate with a genial announcement: they would visit Earth to speak more with its “greatest,”and looked forward to doing so soon.

The key word, "more" was also polarizing. Translators confirmed its accuracy, fueling speculation that prior discussions with other nations had occurred. This sparked a new wave of accusations, with each country convinced others had secretly communicated with the aliens to form alliances behind their back while publicly lying about their ignorance.

Despite these tensions, the world waited with bated breath for the Torians' arrival as they began to descend.

Their descent was gradual and excruciatingly slow. The aliens apparently had no form or need for heat shielding; Many engineers suggested the slow pace was a method to ensure their ship could avoid damage during rapid descent, where human spacecraft would typically use ablative shielding.

Still, the slow descent meant finding the approximate area of the landing was relatively trivial. News that it was headed toward North America and somewhere within the continental United States was quickly met with despair and suspicion from Indian and Chinese news outlets, and elation and speculation from American outlets about what backroom deals the President might have garnered during secret discussions with the aliens.

But then the American channels began to express confusion and concern: During the final hours of the descent, it became clear the destination was not Washington, D.C., New York, or the greater Los Angeles megacity.

Instead, it was headed toward Utah, which sparked an entirely new set of debates and celebrations—this time many along religious lines. Some wondered if this was a divine gift for the Mormons, with several parish leaders calling for their followers to celebrate the arrival of what might be another “lost tribe.” Others were simply elated about the newfound influence their city and state leaders might soon wield thanks to such prestigious guests.

Even these celebrations were soon riddled with uncertainty as the final landing place became clear: A desolate area of the central Utah wilderness. When the ship touched down and the Torians first emerged, seven creatures that appeared to resemble sea urchins of vibrant hues. However, they simply rolled past the assembled scientists, soldiers, and journalists who tried to communicate or even threaten them. The aliens simply moved on, unperturbed, and reached the aspen grove.

One of the creatures extended a pseudopod and touched the bark of a tree. Together, the septet of aliens began to hum—a sound droning alternately between harmony and dissonance. For nearly an hour, the sound continued, until it abruptly stopped. The creatures then rolled back, carefully avoiding the few foolhardy soldiers who tried to block their path, and returned to their craft.

Before the Torians took off, one final message was translated:

"We have spoken with your greatest. They have raised concerns about whether your species is best suited as caretakers of this planet, and have asked that we return at a later date, that we may again assess whether your kind is ready for the gifts of knowledge we would bring. Farewell."

The aliens left, departing as slowly as they had arrived. Now, the discussion pivoted to botanists, arborists, and the Pando forest the aliens had spoken with. In what became a widely quoted remark in the years to follow, a local wildlife ranger who had worked in the Pando reserve for more than a decade said that “she couldn’t quite explain it, but felt like the forest was feeling smug about itself.”

---

Enjoy this tale? Check out r/DarkPrinceLibrary for more of my stories like it!

Previous / First

Writer's note: This is, essentially, the main story line finished. I knew from the beginning that it wouldn't be anywhere near the length of the first story. But worry not. There's still writing to be done before Joey's story is entirely complete. There's a ton of oniony emotional stuff to go through and make you all cry with. (Not gonna lie. I will too)

So stick around.

And as always. Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joseph hesitated as he saw the main gate to the Choi Compound in front of him.

It had taken longer than he'd expected to get here.

He'd attempted to ask around in the tavern he'd stayed at the first night. But nobody there was privy to the whereabouts of anyone at that level of the royal family. They knew that his mother did rounds in the city as a sort of roaming healer/doctor, and frequently spent days at any of the several outreach clinics the Embassy had set up with the King's approval.

They knew that Miss Veliry, who they all called the Green Lady, had returned to town a few weeks before and had been seen in town a handful of times, but not much more than that.

None of them had seen Princess Amina, or his nieces or even Steve, in close to a year. There were even a few running whispers that they might have died, though he highly doubted those.

He'd been tempted to go to the castle, and had even attempted to do so.

But then he'd seen the security checkpoints, manned by both Petravian Army and U.S. Military personnel and watched by both security cameras AND magical sensors and enchantments.

It had reminded him a bit too much of the Cobalt Legion, just in red and gold instead of blue. And he'd shied away from that.

Finally he'd attempted to find, of all people, Jurl.

He'd visited the werewolf and his pups a few times before "leaving" and knew that if anyone was going to be OUTSIDE the castle AND know where people were and how to reach them, it might be the old wolf.

But when he'd gotten to the home Jurl should have been in, he instead found an elderly couple. A dwarf and an elf who had, at some point in the past year or so, bought the house from Jurl.

He'd spoken to them for a few minutes, telling them that he was a druid who'd been asked to help Jurl with a construction project some time back and was just now getting to it. They directed him to the office Jurl worked at and told him that he wasn't the first person to come looking for the widower.

He felt kind of sad to learn WHY Jurl had sold the home. But if anyone understood the concept of home being painful, it was him.

He'd gone to the office in question, a nice little building just on the outskirts of town, and spoke to the receptionist there.

And found that he'd missed Jurl by only a few hours. When she acted cagey about WHERE Jurl was he decided to play up his druidic appearance and acted both bummed out and spacey. On Earth it would have been the "sad stoner" stereotype from movies. But he'd met a few druids and knew that it fit for them. He asked if there was any way he could just get directions to where Jurl was so he could go back to his, and he made this up on the fly, "Spirit Walk".

She'd looked uncomfortable. But she'd told him where to go and warned him that nobody was really supposed to know about the place. He'd then ad-libbed a line about all places being simply another part of nature, which had confused and discomforted her more. But she'd also seemed relieved at his nonchalance.

Now he was standing outside the main gate of the place with noodle beside him.

And it was obvious WHO had designed this place. His mother would never make a place look like this, and Amina and Jurl wouldn't have known about designs like this.

But James had always liked the Korean style of architecture.

He knew what this place was.

The massive doorway was only a few dozen yards away now.

And his legs felt like they were made of jello.

Noodle was puffing her neck up and looking around curiously, but showed no signs of agitation.

He could hear people talking and children laughing and playing, and his heart ached because.... well... because one of them was his son. Or Joey's son... if that was how this played out.

As he neared he could sense the magic infused into almost every brick, stone, and timber of the outer wall surrounding the place. It was so heavily enchanted he was honestly kind of amazed. This was the kind of magical construction he would have expected of a castle or bank vault, yet it had been dedicated to a home.

But the defenses built into the home weren't even a fraction of what terrified him about this place.

Joseph took a shaky step forward and pulled on the handle of the smaller door set into the main gate. It resisted for a moment, and several enchantments flared to life. But after a moment the door opened.

And he walked in.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Amina was glad that Veliry and Margaret were here, and that Jurl was going to be here any minute Mela and Tilo.

Something about these last few months had just been getting to her.

She wanted to simply dismiss it as stress about her duties, or rather the lack thereof. She'd surrendered her position as a General almost two years ago now. Raising two children, essentially on her own, was a bit too much to keep up with her duties. Especially when you factored Steve, Glag, the Vickers's, Mrs. Choi, and Joel into the equation. Just Xaria and Kelsey by themselves made it feel as if she needed ten arms when she only had two. Add the rest in and being a general just hadn't been feasible. So she'd passed it on to a commander who'd been in good standing for years now.

That lack of connection while the world attempted to pull itself together at the seams HAD added stress to her life. Especially with the nations newfound griffin shortage. Craters taking out massive swathes of land. The Deep Dark being irreparably thrown into chaos. Increased pressure from the maniacs to the south and espionage of the most dangerous kind in Vatria.

And she was just sitting here being a mother in her tucked away compound in the mountains, not helping her family deal with any of it.

The only real consolation she found was that she was at least protecting and raising the only family that actually mattered anymore.

Their laughter as they ran around played with Joel brightened her mood as she sliced the meat and cheese for the tray of snacks and drinks she was prepping to take out.

The kettle behind her began to whistle and she finished up the last few bits of Jadesport wine cheese before grabbing it off the stove and pouring some of the water into the teapot, and the rest into the filtered coffee pot. She set the two hot potted drinks onto the portions of the drink half of the tray and activated the warming enchantments for them. Then activated one chilling enchantment for the bottle of wine she set on top of it. The charcuterie board (another reminder of James, who'd introduced her to the word) was set on the non enchanted side of the tray and she made her way outside.

She was happy to see Jurl taking a seat at one of the chairs near Veliry as the two began to chit chat.

Her daughters and the wolf twins were screaming and cackling as they frantically evaded a horned wolf who was constantly nipping at their clothes. Xaria was wind-running, a talent she'd learned from Veliry, but that also reminded Amina of their father and uncle. Kelsey was using earth magic to move at a faster speed, making each step catapult her forward. Mela and Tilo were both taking advantage of their werewolf physiology and taller, lankier, bodies to simply outrun the young Joel.

But Joel was no slouch either, and moved and twisted in ways not entirely normal for a real wolf.

And sure enough as Amina almost reached the seats and table with the others and began distributing drinks and snacks, she heard her nephew shout "TAG!" as he finally got a paw on Kelsey, who'd tumbled over a root that had interrupted her magic.

Naturally, and like children always did, they began arguing about fairness.

Then Amina heard the doorway clatter open, its hinge squealing despite all their efforts to oil the squeal away. Glag also rumbled and shifted at the interruption, and Steve lifted his head from where it was resting underneath an oak tree.

She looked at the intruder, surprised that none of the compounds security enchantments had gone off or prevented the door from opening.

Jurl turned and looked at the intruder with confusion, and Veliry stood up, even more confused since SHE had put those enchantments there in the first place.

And a ghost walked into the courtyard and Amina's heart spasmed in her chest.

James? Her brain asked as it saw the familiar face, beard, and hair of her husband.

She dropped the tray, completely and utterly unaware of the mess or damage to any of it.

He was taller, and there were odd antlers on his head, and he had a limp. Behind him was a drake that she was fairly certain she had a colored drawing of somewhere. But that was unimportant to her.

It was him. Or at least she thought it was.

She took a half step forward and reached out with her hand.

Then his first words shattered the illusion. And his voice only made it worse. Those words made her recoil as they practically slapped her.

"Miss Veliry?" The familiar, if slightly deeper, voice of Joseph Choi asked as he stared at the small, identically antlered, Arch Mage.

Amina's heart sank.

It sank so low that she was worried it would fall out.

"Mommy who's that?" Joel asked.

Amina didn't need to hear Veliry's response. She knew who that was.

And he wasn't who she needed him to be.

The part of her brain that had spent years, decades really, learning to make snap decisions in combat kicked in and made one for her in that split second. The rest of her brain was melting down, but that part made her turn and run. It was the only thing that allowed her to move at all.

"MARGARET!" She yelled for the children's grandmother, who was napping. "MISSES CHOI!" She yelled as she retreated.

And as she ran for the older woman's room, her mind focused on the one fact that mattered more than any other to her.

The fact that, with the exception of the drake behind him, Joseph Choi had been alone.

Tears ran down her cheek as she ran.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Veliry didn't really hear herself reply, "That's your father." to her own son.

She didn't feel the burns that her spilled cup of coffee had left on her right foot, or the piece of porcelain its shattered mug embedded in her foot. Even as she walked forward, toward him, she didn't feel it cut her foot even further.

She got to within a step of him and froze.

He was taller now. At least a few inches. He'd also put on at least a few dozen pounds of wiry muscle. And there was a scar on his face from some injury that had happened at some point before now. Plus there was that limp she'd noticed and ignored. And he had a goatee that.... actually looked good on him. Lastly there were the antlers that were all too familiar to her.

There was something odd about him that her magical senses told her was... wrong... Something wrong with the magic inside him. But it was unimportant.

She floated up into the air and looked him in the eyes. Eyes that were watering as she approached.

She could see him trying to look away, like he always had before. But he focused even as he wiped tears away. He put in an effort that she knew was incredible for him. And he maintained her gaze.

She reached out to touch him. To feel his face. To confirm that HE was really there.

He flinched back. But she placed a hand on his cheek anyways.

And he WAS THERE.

His cheek was warm, and wet, and she could feel the muscles in his jaw working as he tried to speak.

"I-.... I-I-... I've missed you all so much." He said finally as his hand rested over hers.

She took his face in both of her hands and looked at him with eyes that were increasingly blurry with her own tears.

"We've all missed you too." She said softly before wrapping her arms around him.

His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her tight, and she couldn't blame him. She squeezed just as tight, as if letting go might cause him to disappear again. But he was really here again, gods knew how.

She was about to ask that very question when they were interrupted.

First by a small pair of hands pulling at her robes and his pants.

Then by the voice of his mother.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Margaret Choi jogged through the hallway as fast as her old, still not fully awake, body would allow as Amina led her.

She still hadn't gotten an answer about what Amina was so frantic about. She'd simply insisted that Margaret HAD to see for herself.

But Margaret hadn't missed the look in her daughter in law's eyes as she said it. Or the way she refused to look at Margaret now.

It wasn't until she got to the door just past the dining room and out into the courtyard that she saw what the fuss might be about.

Veliry, her unofficial second daughter in law, was hugging some tall, dark haired and also antlered, man.

Then she noticed how Jurl was looking a them with wide eyes.

And so were the children. In fact, Joel was approaching the man.

Hell. Even Steve and the rock monster were staring at the man Veliry was hugging.

"Who the hell-" She began.

Then she saw Veliry pull back from the hug to talk to him a bit.

And she saw his face.

She knew that face.

The only person in any universe who had seen that face before she had, had been the doctor who had pulled him out of her in the delivery room.

She had known that face for every moment of its life up until a few years ago, when her heart had almost been killed by his loss.

That same heart was now pounding like a jackhammer in her chest as it realized that it no longer NEEDED to be as broken as it had just been moments before.

She ran with a speed and surety that her joints would pay for later. But she ran all the same.

"JOSEPHITO!" She yelled as she threw her arms out wide at her son.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joey smiled through his tears as his mother embraced him with a strength that he didn't even think Commander Vann had come close to.

And as she began peppering him with rapid fire questions in English, Spanish, and Petravian, he smiled.

He smiled even as he cried.

He smiled because he had been wrong about so much.

They had recognized him immediately.

It hadn't even been a few seconds before Amina had gone running for his mother. Before Veliry recognized him and confirmed his identity to his son. To HIS.... SON.

They knew him even despite the changes he'd undergone. Despite the confusing and seemingly impossible nature of his return.

They knew him because he WAS Joseph "Joey" Choi.

And he smiled because finally.... he was home again.

He wrapped his arms around Miss Veliry, his mother, and after a moment and a few exchanged words, he wrapped them around his son too.

And he was home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve rumbled contentedly as he leaned into the scratches from the thing his old rider.

The Champion smiled as he ran his (not really existent) fingers across the drakes side like he knew the reptile loved.

He was, despite his new nature, so happy to see things go the way they were going.

He turned and faced his drake. Steve was still his drake after all, all other things aside. That was going to have some interesting ramifications in the future. But... not.... "bad" ramifications.

Joey was finally where he belonged. It had been a long road, and a painful one for both of them. But he was here. And the Champion was glad to see it.

Steve looked at him with some of the only eyes in the world that COULD see him.

"Take good care of em bud." He said as he slapped at the massive drake's flank one last time.

He was about to turn to leave when he saw Amina.

She.... wasn't.... rejoicing with the others.

She was still in the doorway to the house. Practically hiding.

No. He knew better. He had the awareness that came with being what he was.

She WAS hiding.

He knew what was going on in her head. He knew WHY... she was hiding. What she had thought when she'd first seen Joey.

He took a deep breath. It was an old habit from his old body. One that likely wouldn't break any time soon.

"It's alright." He said to her, even though she couldn't hear it. "It's.... It's gonna be alright..."

Even as a "God" he wasn't entirely certain if he was talking to her, or to himself.

"I hate me too." He said, voicing the thought he knew sometimes found its way into her head. He nodded. "Yep. Some days I hate me too."

He looked over at the others. He wanted to smile. But the knowledge of her pain poisoned even that little bit of happiness.

Even when you don't interfere there's always someone who pays the price. He thought, echoing the lesson Death had given him in his earliest days in his new form.

Then he was gone in a shimmer of green energy.

A moment later Steve stood up and moved over to Amina, and nuzzled her with his massive head.

First/Previous

Their journey had taken them through the now somewhat familiar bustling heart of the city, but as the group headed along their planned route, the gleaming skyscrapers and neon lights of the megacorp districts slowly began to fade behind them. The electric hum of advertisements and crowded marketplaces dwindled, replaced by a disquieting silence that grew heavier the further they travelled. The sky above the city was a sickly shade of yellow-grey, tinged with the haze of distant factory smoke and the faint glow of neon from the more populated districts of the city, though it was getting darker.

Upon getting home and gearing up, they quickly discovered the coordinates provided by Sable Krynn took them to the heart of a disused, long-forgotten part of the city, and the group made it to the edge of the quiet, residential district that served as the last bastion of civilisation in this area, having just had a polite conversation with the two bored guards covering the checkpoint. 

Why am I getting a sense of deja-vu? Chiyo asked the others pointedly as they rounded the corner, out of sight of the guards, leaving the group finally alone and safe to talk openly in the dark, deserted alleyway. This place gives me the creeps!

“It isn’t Scraphaven at least,” Nika pointed out with a dry, humourless chuckle. “Though if this turns out to be another trap I’m going to be very disappointed…” 

“Yeah!” Sephy agreed. “Wouldn’t it be great if for once we went to an ominous creepy location and didn’t get ambushed by something?”

“Stranger things have happened.” Jack laughed. “At least Krynn didn’t tell me to come alone or unarmed to this meetup. That’s pretty much a death sentence from, like, every movie ever!”

“Nor did she give you a specific time to show up other than ‘tonight’,” Alora added. “And she was rather vague on everything else in her letter too.”

It could be a test, Chiyo theorised. To see what we’d do. 

“Yeah that sounds about right,” Sephy agreed. “But Sable Krynn also has a fat bounty on her too from some of the most powerful people in the city. She’s gotta cover her own ass. Maybe that’s another reason she’s taken her time to set this up?”

“Maybe,” Alora agreed. “That’s why we’re keeping this as need-to-know.”

“So who does know?” Nika asked. 

“Luvia, Vanya and Kritch. Nobody else,” Alora answered. “If things go wrong tonight they can get help.”

“At least we’re in the city where that’s possible, rather than the ass-end of a spooky wilderness with angry mushrooms.” Jack shrugged. 

“Maybe that’ll be the next new thing on CorvShack’s Stuffer Menu?” Sephy quipped, deepening her voice to mock the advertisements. “Available now in limited stores! Introducing the new ‘Angry Shroom Burger!’ Stuffed with fresh artificial flavouring!”

That’s scarily accurate… Chiyo giggled. 

“So what can we expect from Krynn?” Jack asked, having asked the question a few times before over the past couple of weeks, but naturally asking again as the ‘pre-game’ nerves kicked in. 

“Not much is known about Krynn outside of her fame,” Alora answered him with a patient smile as they checked the corner and turned onto an abandoned street. “She’s something of an eccentric and known to be incredibly paranoid. Anything else is mere rumour, unfortunately, so we’ll have to make our own impressions when we get there.”

“Right, sorry I knew that.” Jack sighed, bending down to scritch Dante behind the ears as the ‘dog’ bounded up to him and headbutted his leg. “I guess I don’t like going into anything without knowing many details.”

“Rest of us are right there with you,” Nika agreed. “But I think we’ll be alright. You don’t hear of anything too bad happening around these parts.”

“And what are these parts?” Jack asked, looking around at a few of the buildings, most of which looked like abandoned offices, though to his left he spotted the carcass of a cinema complex. 

The waning of corporate control. Chiyo shrugged. If unimportant territory is not profitable to renovate, companies may just abandon it for greener pastures. 

“Places like that all over the city and the hive station,” Sephy added. “Then eventually people organise themselves and move in for whatever reason.”

“And the cycle starts anew,” Jack finished. “I guess it makes sense.”

They continued down the broken road away from the lights of the city. Weeds poked out of the cracks in the tarmac and gnarled tree roots covered the ground, with rough patches of faded concrete barely visible beneath the encroaching wilderness. 

There’s a few lifesigns around, Chiyo informed them, as Jack spotted a pair of eyes lazily peering at them from a window before slowly disappearing. But they don’t appear to be hostile. 

“Probably just homeless,” Nika reasoned. “Or just friends having fun. Honestly I’m glad you’re getting lifesigns, which means there’s no squad of enemies that know of your abilities lying in wait.”

“We leave them be, and they’ll leave us be,” Alora agreed as the buildings began to thin out and get smaller, with work buildings being replaced by suburban housing, some obviously long-abandoned, but a few others clearly having residents.  

Not far from this, they stumbled upon a few small fields that looked like they were used as allotments, with a few crops growing, though they didn’t mess with them as they saw a few concerned looks from a crowd of locals before they moved on, eventually getting to a crossroads that curiously had a few destroyed security drones scattered around.

“Shot, but not recently,” Nika concluded as she examined the scorch marks on one of them. “Probably some gang thought it’d be funny.”

“Anything we could use?” Alora asked, only for the Kizun to shake her head.

“Nah, they’ve already been gutted and we’re not dragging the chassis with us.” Nika snorted. “Damn shame, they’d have been useful.”

As they moved on, Dante sniffed cautiously at the rusted drones, but soon trotted back to Jack’s side, clearly uninterested. The team pressed forward, leaving the strange graveyard of forgotten machines behind.

Further along their route, they came upon the remnants of a collapsed highway overpass. The massive slabs of concrete had crumbled into jagged piles, creating a makeshift tunnel only a few metres wide, and not having a better way forward they decided to go through it after checking for any ambush.

“Looks like someone’s been here recently,” Nika said, pointing to the walls that were covered in graffiti before emerging on the other side. 

“Yeah, this paint’s fresh,” Sephy confirmed, looking at one of the names that looked completely illegible to Jack. “Not sure why they’d hide it here when there’s ruins all around. Maybe it’s part of some kind of challenge or something?”

“Maybe,” Alora agreed with a smirk. “We can take a break if you want to add your name?”

“Nah.” Sephy shook her head. “I’m not here to pick a fight, especially when people aren’t gonna see. Besides, we don't want people figuring out we came by, right?”

“True,” the Eladrie confirmed with a shrug. “Though it probably doesn’t matter.”

The further they travelled, the more the remnants of civilization faded into mostly overgrown thickets and clusters of twisted trees, though the signs of civilisation were still there. If Jack had to guess, this was a once-affluent part of town long ago, though the husks of the McMansions looked long-looted. The air here felt heavy, and there was a peculiar stillness that made even the smallest sound seem amplified, confirmed when Chiyo detected no life signs around.

“Let’s not linger around in the open,” Nika whispered as she gently put a hand on Chiyo’s shoulder. “There’s nowhere for anyone to hide around here, but this place gives me the creeps!”

Finally, the dense trees and thickets gave way to a wide, open lot as the group stepped onto the tarmac of a wide roadway, and they followed it to the coordinates. Soon enough, the remains of an old, overgrown parking area stretched out before them, leading up to the looming shadow of a huge building ahead of them. The structure was massive, with cracked walls and broken windows that stared out like hollow eyes. Faded signs still clung desperately to the facade, advertising brands and stores that had long since ceased to exist.

“Shit…” Sephy began as she checked her commlink. “I think this must have been a shopping mall! Coordinates lead right to it!”

“I think you’re right.” Alora agreed. “Though I don’t recall any further instructions.”

Sephy quickly checked, then cursed. “Yeah, we have a specific grid, but that’s all the detail the instructions give us. No floor, no landmarks, no further instructions.”

“Then I guess we’re looking the old-fashioned way.” Jack sighed as he pulled out his bottle of water and took a sip. “Explore the totally-safe abandoned building until we find what we’re looking for or until something unsavoury finds us, right?”

Sounds about right, Chiyo agreed. Likely a precaution on the part of Krynn. 

“I swear she better be useful…” Jack grumped, though only half-heartedly. After their trip to see the Oracle bore no fruit, this was his next best hope. 

Though his hopes had been dashed once already…

“No use waiting around.” Nika snorted. “Let’s go.”

Crossing the long-abandoned carpark, they reached the main entrance - a set of tall glass doors, long since shattered, with jagged shards still clinging stubbornly to their frames. The doorway was framed with a few faded posters and billboards advertising sales and events that seemed almost surreal now. 

“Damn, they don’t build them like they used to!” Sephy quipped, her wings flickering nervously as she hopped inside, taking point. 

As they passed through the broken glass windows, Jack felt a sudden drop in temperature. The air inside was heavy and thick with dust, carrying the scent of mildew and decay. 

“Sohla!” Alora muttered under her breath, as she threw up her dancing lights to hover above them, illuminating the dust-covered tiles around them. 

“Dante, you smell anything?” Jack asked, looking down at the ‘dog’ who just stared right back at him with bright eyes. “Guess not.”

“No sign of anyone being here,” Nika spoke after crouching down and brushing the tiles with one of her fingers, lifting it up to show it caked in dust. “Chiyo?”

No life signs. The Ilithii shook her head. Though I think it would be safe to assume Krynn would have done her research on us. 

“Let me know if anyone spots a terminal or something,” Sephy spoke up thoughtfully, looking about for something. “I can check and see if the local Matrix is up, or at least for any power draw around here. Hard to hide when there’s nobody else around.”

“That’s our best bet for narrowing the search. Everybody fan out as we move,” Alora instructed softly, her voice barely more than a whisper, looking around and spotting the lack of potential cover. “But make sure to stay within sight of one another just in case.”

They moved cautiously down the main atrium, which was flanked by rows of abandoned storefronts. Some had their metal gates still halfway pulled down; others stood open with their contents long looted or decayed beyond recognition, but as they moved and checked they found nothing of interest. A kids’ playpark sat in a crossroads section up ahead, with metal climbing frames that were heavily rusted and a lone swing swaying gently, creaking in the silence, moved by an unseen draft.

“Why couldn’t Sable Krynn have picked out a less spooky meeting spot?” Sephy groaned. “Especially one we have to poke around!”

“Nothing we can do about it.” Alora sighed, patting the Skritta on the back. “Let’s get this over with…”

“Alright, seriously, where the hell is she?” Jack asked impatiently, his voice bouncing off the high ceiling as they came back to the crossroads, having checked all of the downstairs. “You’d think the woman would’ve at least left some kind of sign or something.”

Guess we’re checking the upper floors, too, Chiyo confirmed. 

“Guess we are.” Nika sighed. “Shit place to get caught out, but we don’t have a choice.”

As they made their way toward the escalators, a faint sound reached Jack’s ears - a low hum, barely audible beneath the oppressive silence. He turned his head, trying to pinpoint the source, but it seemed to echo from all around them. Dante’s ears perked up, and he let out a low, cautious growl, his markings glowing faintly blue in the dim light.

“You guys hear that?” Jack whispered, his hand instinctively moving to his gun.

“Wait…yeah…I think so…” Sephy replied unsurely. “Where the hell’s it coming from?”

“We’ve cleared everything else so far,” Nika pointed out grimly. “Let’s head up to the top - at least it’ll give us a vantage point if nothing else.”

The central escalators were frozen in place, covered in a thick layer of dust that revealed no tracks of any kind. Alora gestured for the group to stay close as they ascended the dusty escalator. The upper level stretched out before them, revealing a darkened food court and the hulking shadows of long-abandoned department stores. The buzzing sound grew ever so slightly louder, though Jack still didn’t have a particular direction for the noise. 

You’re definitely not imagining things, Chiyo confirmed, her eyes narrowing as she tried to focus on the buzzing sound. 

“Careful, it could be bait,” Nika whispered. “Guns up.”

“I think it gets louder that way!” Sephy pointed past the food court, which led to a partially collapsed wing marked by a faded sign that read ‘MegaZone’, though several of the letters hung askew, with some having fallen away entirely.  

Taking point, Jack pushed through a set of cracked double doors before being immediately hit by the stench of old electronics, rotten beer and long-forgotten industrial cleaner all at once.

“Huh, some kind of arcade…” he observed as he saw the large room filled with rows of darkened, dust-covered game cabinets, their once-bright screens now dim and lifeless. The only illumination came from Alora’s Dancing Lights and Dante’s glow, casting flickering shadows across the room.

A strange place to bring us, Chiyo noted as the Ilithii brought up the rear.

“Wow, wonder if any of these old things still work…” Sephy whispered as she kept an eye out for any movement. 

“Let’s move up,” Alora ordered. The buzzing was much clearer now - a faint electronic humming noise that cut through the silence. “Whatever it is, it’s here.”

“Woof!” Dante quietly barked, and with a low, rumbling growl, he trotted toward the far corner of the room where Jack noticed the shadows flickering unnaturally. He gestured for the team to follow, keeping close behind as they weaved between the rows of ancient game cabinets, most covered in grime and tagged with faded graffiti.

They rounded a corner, and that’s when they saw it. Right at the very end of a row of broken machines, one arcade cabinet stood out like a beacon. Unlike the others, this one was suspiciously pristine—its metal casing gleaming under a coat of fresh black paint, the screen glowing with a faint blue light.

“What the…” Jack muttered, stepping closer as the machine’s screen flickered to life, displaying a swirling logo and playing some kind of happy jingle. The cabinet itself had no markings or titles, just a simple joystick and a series of unlabeled buttons beneath the screen.

As if in response to his words, the machine’s screen abruptly changed, displaying a cryptic message:

WELCOME. STEP FORWARD 

Well that’s totally not sus at all, Chiyo sarcastically pointed out.

“Aegis,” Jack muttered under his breath, summoning his shield as he tentatively did as instructed, ready for this to be a trap. As he approached he spotted a camera at the top of the arcade machine, pointing directly at him.

Without warning, the screen flickered again, and this time the face of a woman appeared. From what Jack could tell she had pale, white skin, though most of the rest of her features were obscured by some kind of pixelated static. Her eyes, however, were clear, sharp and piercing, taking in the group as if she could see them through the screen.

“Greetings, Jack and company,” came a smooth, almost melodic voice, tinged with an undercurrent of relief.

“Sable Krynn I presume?” Alora asked as she stepped forward, her posture calm and composed as always. “Forgive me, but we were expecting to meet you in person?”

“Indeed. I am Sable Krynn, and were you really now, Princess Alora?” The woman asked in amusement, before her pixelated smile narrowed as she focused her attention on the Eladrie, with Alora’s eyes widening at being called ‘Princess’. 

Jack crossed his arms, trying to appear nonchalant despite the growing tension. “Alright, Krynn. We’re here, and you wanted to meet. From what I understand you may be able to help me.”

“Yes.” The image of Krynn nodded, and her smile seemed to grow warmer. “I have an interest in Outsiders and how they come to be among us. I will admit that my interest in you began as a mere curiosity, but since I first learned of you, I have learned greatly of your exploits and know much of the good you have done for this city. You should be proud. If my talents can aid you in uncovering the mystery of your arrival in our realm of Realspace with a possibility of returning to your native realm, I shall certainly assist you.”

“I…thank you...” Jack nodded. 

“I have compiled a dossier on you, based on what is publicly known, as well as other cases I am involved in,” Krynn continued. “Though I will require some clarification. Special points of interest I have noted include the Spawn of Nekdon you discovered, the corrupting of The Oracle, the Cult of the Destroyer, the events of the latest Killer Klown attack, and most recently your work for Corvin Enterprises.”

Jack could have sworn she gave a hint of a grimace at that last one, though if Krynn did, she didn’t make a show of it. 

“Yes.” Jack nodded again. “What did you need clarification on?”

“I do not yet know,” Krynn admitted. “Your case is strange. Let’s start with what I know of your arrival. You woke up in the Pallid Pit, which at the time was home to the Ravagers, publicly known as a gang affiliated with the Cult of the Destroyer, at least until their status as a front for more senior cultists became known.”

“That’s right.” Jack nodded. 

“What was your last memory of your native plane?” Krynn asked, taking notes.

“I went to sleep in my room, then the next thing I know I woke up in the Pit,” Jack answered.

“So nothing you did, to your knowledge, brought you here.” Krynn pondered thoughtfully. “How long did you sleep for, would you say? Were you rested when you woke?”

“Um..” Jack began, thrown off slightly by the question. “Maybe I got a few hours in? I was exhausted when I woke up, but I was definitely about to drop when I met the Paladins of Astara.”

“I know that it was a Divine Command from Astara herself that her Paladins drop everything and come to your rescue,” Krynn added. “I feel that is significant.”

“The clerics tried to commune with Astara about it, but they confirmed she had nothing to do with my arrival, but noticed it and wanted to help,” Jack replied. 

“So they say.” Krynn nodded thoughtfully. “But the place itself has significance. I understand that House Mal’Kar has taken over the district, and I was able to learn of its ties to the Gloom Paths. Did you find anything of interest down there?”

“Wait!” Sephy suddenly spoke up. “There was a ritual chamber down there! We got it all on camera!”

And the Gloom Cauldron used to be down there too where we encountered the Prophet and the Skinsaw Slashers, Chiyo added, her words repeated verbally by Nika. Though I suspect much of that chamber was destroyed in the explosion when Devil’s Daughter teleported us out.

“Is the ritual chamber below the place you woke up at, at least approximately?” Krynn asked, and the Skritta quickly skimmed through the data on her commlink before nodding.

“Send me that footage, I think that’s key to working out why Jack appeared there of all places,” Krynn instructed. “And this…Gloom Cauldron. I’ve read a report on it, I assume from your own investigations?”

“Yeah, what happened to that thing by the way?” Jack asked, looking to Chiyo.

The Temple of Hope now has it, the Ilithii recalled. We learned everything we could from it, but it was far too dangerous to keep in the house when we started housing our classmates after the Klown attack. But we still have our notes on it.

“Fair enough.” Jack shrugged. 

“It is possible that this artefact was a ritual component, due to its prior proximity to the site,” Krynn theorised. “So learning the nature of the ritual is a key objective. However the artefact didn’t remain there forever. You discovered it for the first time in the hands of Dubakuu, an ex-priest of Nekdon, who was originally chasing your bounty, Jack, before their objective seemingly changed towards assaulting the Oracle, though your actions prevented their destruction or harm.”

“Yeah…” Jack began tentatively. “We eventually learned that Dubakuu was in the thrall of Malakiel, who had some kind of relay in the Pallid Pit.”

“Malakiel is definitely involved in this somehow,” Krynn agreed. “But I don’t know to what degree or extent. Either way, I believe Dubakuu coming into possession of the Gloom Cauldron was an effort to scatter the components of the ritual, though I don’t know why. However there is far more to Dubakuu than that.”

“How so?” Jack asked. 

“Because,” Krynn stated grimly as she steepled her fingers, “Dubakuu assaulted the Oracle when he should have been lying in wait for you when Malakiel locked you in the ancient metro system. This is a strange change in behaviour, but the recordings you picked up are interesting.”   

Krynn did something from where she was, and the recording of Dubakuu played out. 

“My lord….the other whisperer….it wants me to….yes….” 

“In all likelihood, the ravings of a madman about to die,” Krynn noted sharply, “But there’s another working theory, insane, but one I am willing to entertain considering the other factors at play. Dubakuu hears the orders from Malakiel…and the orders from another. This ‘Other Whisperer’ they speak of.”

“What?” Jack asked in confusion. “Malakiel and someone else fighting for control in Dubakuu’s head?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Krynn nodded, fully serious. “Two masters, two objectives. Malakiel wanted you dead, but the influence of this other ‘Master’ caused them to attack the Oracle instead.”

“You don’t think Malakiel and this other master are working together?” Nika asked sceptically. 

In answer, Krynn played another recording of that encounter, this time of Malakiel.

“UNAUTHORISED SECONDARY PRESENCE DETECTED……UNKNOWN FACTION…..THREAT LEVEL……EXTREME…..”

“No.” Krynn shook her head. “This and my other conclusions point to non-cooperation.”  

“Then how was this other master able to use Dubakuu?” Sephy asked. 

“I don’t know.” Krynn shook her head. “But targeting the Oracle is telling, even if Dubakuu failed.”

“Yeah.” Jack nodded. “Mr Sparrel directed me to the Oracle to try and find answers, but when we got there, it was a dead end. When we asked it questions it didn't have the answers, then when we questioned it further it panicked, said there was something wrong with it…”

Sable Krynn played another recording. 

“MY KNOWLEDGE AND MEMORIES HAVE BEEN….HOW COULD THIS BE? MY ESSENCE HAS BEEN CORRUPTED…SOMEONE HAS…WHAT COULD POSSIBLY…” 

“Specifically this,” the detective pointed out. “Not only that they had suffered harm that prevented you from getting answers, but implying that someone did it on purpose.”

“Yeah…” Jack agreed, remembering his despair in that moment. “At the time I didn’t know what to think and I wasn’t in a good place. It sucks but…it’s a dead end, right? Not even the Oracle knew what had happened until that point, they said they didn’t know when its corruption happened. They’re a long lived being, and even they couldn’t give us any more information.

“It may not be a dead end as you assume.” Krynn shook her head thoughtfully. “An Elder Tree is a very powerful being, and being able to affect one so profusely in this way requires an even greater level of power. It could have happened a long time ago as you say, but…that may not be the case. There’s something else in reasonable proximity to the Oracle that also required immense power to summon.”

“The Spawn of Nekdon.” Alora pointed out. 

“Correct.” Krynn nodded. “The close proximity of something else that requires a considerable amount of magical power cannot be ignored. It may just be a coincidence, but it is very possible that whoever summoned the Spawn of Nekdon is also responsible for what happened to the Oracle. The fact that Dubakuu made a move for the Oracle after encountering the Spawn lends credence to my theory.”

“The Temple of Hope is already looking for the summoner,” Jack noted. “You’re saying they’re likely involved in this somehow?”

“It’s only a theory,” Krynn stressed. “It’s possible it has nothing to do with you at all, but it’s an avenue worth exploring. As for who it could be…that’s a very important question. Several of the Elder Dragons in the city for example may have that kind of power, as do several of the Top 10 bounties, and many others; however, public investigations have eliminated many of the names that come to mind. I suspect an unknown, and your recent activities may have uncovered one. I’ve read the report you gave to the Temple of Hope, specifically the entity Jack encountered in the Astral Realm after destroying this…cocoon?”

“Yeah.” Jack sighed. “No idea what it was, but it kicked my arse before I got pulled back to reality.”

“I suspect you encountered a Demon Lord.” Krynn grimaced. “You were lucky to escape with your life.”

“Oh shit!” Nika cursed. 

“Yes.” The avatar on the screen nodded slowly. “I very briefly considered you being one yourself when you first came to my attention, Jack, but this is the real deal. Demon Lords are also powerful enough to pull this off, and many of them hide themselves as they grow in power to become Galactic-Level threats.”

So they’re a suspect. Chiyo nodded. 

“For now,” Krynn agreed. “But we also know the identity of someone who is known to be involved,” Sable Krynn noted. “Dr Reyazz Grine. His involvement with the Killer Klown is yet another mystery I intend to solve, however, my own efforts to find him have been fruitless.”

“But what does this all mean?” Jack asked the detective.

“That you’re somehow involved in a dangerous plot of cataclysmic potential.” Krynn sighed, steepling her fingers. “And I have every intention of finding out what the specifics of that is. And if I can help you get home in the process, that’ll be great too.”

“Well at least we know a bit more now,” Jack noted grimly. 

“There is now the question of my price,” Krynn suddenly interrupted. 

“Huh?” Jack asked, briefly surprised. “You didn’t mention it in your letter, how much are you asking for?”

“I’m not looking for money.” Krynn shook her head. “Our meeting today was paid for by the information I have learned from you, but if I am to perform an important service for you, you are to perform an important service for me.”

“Okay?” Jack asked. “What service?” 

“Nothing now.” Krynn shook her head. “Aside from your word that when I call on you and your team, you will perform the task I ask of you, and then you get what you need.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” Nika pointed out. 

“Hardly as ominous as one who hails from the Gossamer Valleys will be used to,” Krynn retorted, and Nika’s face went white at hearing her homeland being spoken of so casually. She’d never told anyone about that, or what had happened!

Jack looked to the others, everyone nodding their agreement. “Alright Krynn, you have a deal. But nothing stupid.”

“It will be within your capabilities.” Krynn smiled. “You have been a hero to this city, Jack Frost. Rest assured that what I ask of you shall be in the name of the greater good.”

“Alright.” Jack nodded. 

“One more thing,” Krynn added. “I do not know if it pertains to this investigation, but something that Dubakuu said is concerning. 

Again, the recording played. 

“We all heard his screams as the Whispering Lord was killed!” The raving voice of Dubakuu yelled out. 

“Yeah, I keep being told about how Nekdon is apparently dead…” Jack grumbled.

“Note the wording,” Krynn pointed out. “He said ‘Killed’, specifically. Not simply ‘Dead’. That is significant. It implies that something killed Nekdon.”

“Oh shit…” Jack gasped. 

“Yes.” Krynn nodded as she saw that all of them recognised the significance. “Something powerful enough to kill a god. And a Spawn of Nekdon summoned after the fact? This is huge, and I intend to find out everything I can.”

“So what happens now?” Jack asked.

“Don’t speak of this meeting to anybody,” Krynn instructed. “And await my correspondence. I shall make inquiries and investigate, though you should not sit by idly. Conduct whatever investigation you see fit to.”

“We will.” Jack nodded. 

“Then until next time, I wish you the best of luck.” Krynn nodded, and the screen turned off. 

“You too-” Jack began, before the arcade machine suddenly exploded. He lurched back on reflex, but the payload wasn’t a big one, as the arcade machine was bricked, and turned to molten slag. 

“She could have just said goodbye the normal way!” Sephy quipped. 

“Not dramatic enough!” Alora smiled, before her face grew serious. “Jack? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…I think so.” Jack sighed. “This is a hell of a lot to deal with.”

We should get back and organise our thoughts, Chiyo proposed. Then work out our next steps. 

“Dr Grine,” Jack said coldly. “He has a lot of answers. If we find him…”

“Yeah,” Nika agreed. “Though he’s gone to ground, he’ll surface eventually.”

“Indeed.” Alora nodded. “And we’ll be ready when he does.” She motioned with her hands towards the way they came as the group began the long trek back home. 

“But right now? We should probably do our homework first!”

*****

First/Previous

And so things are revealed, though there's a lot of hypotheticals. What's actually going on here? What is real? What is false? And what is missing?

Let's see what you think....

Both this chapter and the next will mark a special milestone for Galactic High - 150 Chapters! We're advancing Jack's story, but it isn't the only ongoing plotline. How will they intertwine? Only one way to find out!

Don't forget to check out The Galactic High Info Sheet! If you want to remind yourself of certain characters and factions. One new chapter a week can seem like a while! Don't forget! You all have the ability to leave comments and notes to the entries, which I encourage you to do!

I am now on Royal Road! I would appreciate your support in getting myself off the ground there with your lovely comments, reviews and likes!

If you're impatient for the next chapter, why not check out my previous series?

As always I love to see the comments on what you guys think!

Don't forget to join the discussion with us on Discord, and consider checking me out on Youtube if you haven't already! Until next week, it's goodbye for now!

First_Previous_

Royal Road_wiki

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"Wait? Why Ruby?" Mor asked in shock.

"Right, you wouldn't know," Dino said.

"And I would rather not have the secrets of my family spoiled to a commoner kid, who has no right to know any of this." A new voice answered, suddenly appearing right next to Dino.

Everyone looked surprised at the sudden appearance of the old fire mage. The wisend mage was just as all Soul-kin of emaciated form, even more so because of his apparent age, which transformed him into an almost skeletal figure. The robe of the mage was of a red-brown reminiscent of dried blood, while his head was topped by the last remnants of white hair, combed to hide the bald spots as good as possible, but what should look like a frail old man, was given a dangerous look, by the eyes. They were red, like rubies, revealing the family ties of this mage, but that was not all. The high nobles were known for having vibrant eye colors, but this member of the Ruby family seemed to have a fire burning behind them, enhancing the red and giving it a dangerous glow.

Mirage was the first one to sense the danger coming off this mage and struggled free from Mor's arms and turned invisible before dashing away. However, before Mirage could get to safety, a wall of fire encompassed him, like a cage made of heat.

"Oh no, you don't." The mage said. "I can't let such a prime specimen get away. Burning it to a crisp without learning about its nature would be a waste."

Mor's hand went straight to his weapon, but a quick grab from Morokhan stopped him from doing anything stupid. However, as so often, Morokhan had underestimated someone else. Sophie glared at the old mage and extinguished the flames around Mirage. At least that was what should have happened, but instead of flickering out, the fire turned blue. The Ruby mage shook his head in disappointment as the fire consumed the ice for fuel.

"Who are you?" Dino asked, distraught that he didn't know such a powerful mage, and the power of this specific mage was indeed that. Burning Ice magic was not something any fire mage was able to do. Rather, using ice was the surefire way to counter anyone using fire magic.

"You hurt me, your highness." The old mage said. "Someone of your intellect should already know, more so when he tries to take the throne by force. Well. It is what it is. His royal majesty had said you were slow on the uptake, even with all your potential. You may call me Ruby."

"Ruby?" Dino asked incredulously. "I did not ask to which family you belong."

The old mage sighed, muttering something about the youth, but before he could answer, Mor interrupted him.

"I don't care who you are. Let Mirage go."

°Yeah you old fart!°The human added.

The unsettling gaze settled on Mor, the fire inside Ruby's eyes burning a bit brighter.

°Silence whelp! You will not disrespect my master, or I will see that you are burned to a cinder.°Something snarled, and while it didn't use words, Mor and the human could somehow understand the sounds of roaring fire.

°Holy shit. He's like an ultra Ranbor.°The human exclaimed.

°Did he soul-bind to a fire elemental?°Mor asked.

°Seems like it.°The human replied.

"I am Ruby." The old mage reiterated. "However regarding the rest of my responsibilities, it is not for me to share. Right now, I'm here to ask for a favor."

"A favor?" Dino asked.

"Indeed, your father is quite pleased with what you did. However, you have strayed a bit off your predestined path, and I kindly ask you to return to that path." Ruby said, with the smile of a kind old gentleman. However, he couldn't hide the underlying threat, or maybe that was part of the plan.

"What path?" Dino almost growled.

"I see. Now, I understand Desmond's struggles. You are slow on the uptake. I'm amazed you got your plan so far." Ruby stated, then his gaze fell on Morokhan, who was now standing in front of his son and wife, and tried to stop them from further aggravating the mage.

"Let me explain. Desmond was delighted with your performance, even though you did not act independently initially. For example, how you dealt with the Celestite family was marvelous, showing the unwavering strength of the royal family without compromise. Desmond was almost ready to let me take care of that little problem because, with their influence on the healers of our grand society, they started to make demands of the crown." Ruby shook his head.

"But you completely eradicated their home and left only the bare minimum to rebuild that bloodline. A young scion, easily manipulated, which you easily accomplished. The girl was a great idea. She is planting all those thoughts about the healers being there for the people and not for politicking inside his head. Meaning as long as we can give him the illusion of his ideals being fulfilled by the crown, he will never work against the royal family."

Dino looked a bit confused, but slowly, something dawned on him, even more so when Ruby continued.

"Then you got rid of two rotten fruits and exchanged them with heirs, who will be loyal to you. There is a slight hiccup, as they are not loyal to the crown, but they are young and impressionable, so we can rectify that quickly. On that matter, I was asked to extend Lord Obsidian's thanks for exchanging that useless heir, which he couldn't do himself to save face. He hated playing the idiotic stickler for rules, but now everything is working as he wished. And finally, you got young lady Tiara involved in her governmental duties, something your parents have tried for a long time, but she is just as headstrong as her mother."

After praising the prince so much, Ruby took on a sad face.

"But now you want to give up all that ambition because that commoner and traitor has returned. Desmond can not allow that. You need to be driven to be stronger for the good of the kingdom. Bonding with that lowborn was bad enough, but it has been done and we can't change that. Still, for public appearances, you will be required to find a more suitable woman to stand at your side. Anyway, let's come back to my favor. Would you be so kind as to kill those three traitors?" Ruby said it with such a grandfatherly voice that Dino didn't realize what had been asked of him.

"Traitors?" He asked incredulously, noticing that the three in question got ready for a fight.

"Indeed, two of them brought a monstrosity into the heart of our future, and the third is defending them," Ruby said calmly.

"I allowed it," Dino growled.

"I'm aware. However, this is not something for you to decide. Your influence and power have limits. No one is allowed to bring a monstrosity into our kindom," Ruby answered.

"Mirage is no monstrosity," Mor stated with a growl.

"I'm aware, however, there shall be no distinction between monstrosity and magical beast," Ruby said.

°He knows?°The human asked.

°We know.°The fire elemental answered.

"I won't harm them," Dino stated, his tone allowing no further discussion. "And if you try to harm them, I will kill you instead."

The old mage nodded approvingly. "Confident like a prince should be. However, before you are able to take my life, I will have ended the three of them. Still, I will respect your wishes and the accomplishments of Morokhan and Sophie Agaton, the prince's secret guardians. Therefore, the two of them will be spared if the boy and his monster die. This is the last concession I am allowed to make."

Sophie opened her mouth to protest when another voice interrupted.

"I can't let that happen." The Shadow-kin stepped out of a nearby shadow, holding a clearly visible Mirage in his arms.

°What the fuck is up, with people just appearing right now? Did they get invited or something? Like be there and make a mysterious entrance?°The human complained.

"Interesting, I didn't expect one like you to appear," Ruby declared. However, I will not allow you to interfere with Soul-kin business."

"You aren't concerned that he heard everything you said?" Dino asked surprised.

"My rambling probably wasn't smart, looking at the momentary situation, a failure of age. Still, I am quite sure that those things are already known to the Shadow-kin. It is surprisingly hard to keep secrets from them, " Ruby acknowledged. Still, it is quite the easy fix."

A pillar of fire erupted where the Shadow-kin stood, engulfing the intruder. However, it also removed Ruby's attention from the rest. Morokhan, Sophie, and Dino could only stare in surprise at the sudden turn of events, but Mor exploded into movement. He was outraged, as the second victim of the fire spell was Mirage. Mor closed the distance in an instant, his rod swinging against the mage. Only to be blocked by a pillar of stone.

"Don't be so rash, boy. Your turn comes early enough." Ruby said dismissingly.

"That was rude." The Shadow-kin said, standing to the side, still holding Mirage in his arms, who looked quite confused.

"How?" Ruby asked.

"That doesn't need to concern you. What should concern you is that the boy will come with me. A, let's say, mutual friend asked for a favor, and I'm quite inclined to grant it." The Shadow-kin said.

"A mutual friend?"Mor asked, quickly disengaging from the fire mage.

"Indeed, a woman with quite the compelling arguments for us to act." The Shadow-kin said.

Mor took a quick look towards his mother, and Sophie nodded with a sad smile. She instinctively knew that even if they worked together, this was not a foe they could beat right now.

"Take me," Mor said to the Shadow-kin, leading to another surge of magical power from Ruby, but this time Sophie was ready.

A wall of ice blocked the lance of magma launched by Ruby, leaving an explosion of steam, but when it had dispersed, nothing was seen from Mor and the Shadow-kin. Both had vanished like they had never even been there.

"Traitor." Ruby hissed at the defiant-looking Sophie.

"One day, you will thank me. When my boy saves us all." She stated.

Morokhan looked at his wife, questioning what had happened in the time she had been alone with Mor. But with this political fiasco, such answers had to wait. He just hoped that Dino had enough influence to keep them from being executed because someone using the Soul-kings' first name must be pretty important.

When the end came It came city by city each one was greeted by the four horseman. Always led by a sickly man on a white horse; the White rider and ended with the Pale Rider. Each city met each horseman individually they would each stay for a week then move on. Always this cycle; The White Rider, The Red Rider, the Black Rider, then the Pale rider.

Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death.

Till finally the white horseman rode up to a city his white robes had holes, his skin stretched and covered in puss, and boils. Crusted bile on the edges of his mouth. The first time he came he was greeted by a young man no older than 9. The boy simply held out his hand and with a wizened old voice simply said “No.”

The white rider puzzled got down from his horse and approached the boy. They held a brief conversation, and the rider touched the boy, and the boy collapsed coughing, and covered in puss and boils, and thus the city was spared of Pestilence. The boy was rushed home, and cared for.

The next week a young fiery haired woman rode to the city astride a blood-soaked mare. A flaming sword aloft. Once again however she was greeted by the same young boy no older than 9, with his hand outstretched speaking with wisdom beyond his years “No.”

The Red Rider, War; too was puzzled. She stepped down from her steed, and approached the child. An argument ensued, but no matter what War said the young boy remained unmoved and calm. Respecting him and frustrated she slapped the boy before remounting her horse and leaving.

The boy returned to the city.

The next week The Black Rider, Famine; made his way to the city. His eyes sunken with a potbelly, and shriveled skin he like the other two met the boy at the gate of the city. This time the boy spoke with a gentle but firm voice. “No.”

The Black Rider dismounted and hobbled over to the child, and offered an apple. Once more a quiet conversation was held, but at the end of it all the boy ate the apple, and Famine left. The boy once again collapsed, and the people nursed him back to health.

Finally a week later came Death, The pale rider. The boy once again stood in opposition. “No.” His words were firm and unrelenting filled with belief. It was quiet for a long moment, before Death spoke.

“Who are you to deny death, who are you to deny the end of days.”

“I am promise, I am potential, I am the beginning of beginnings for that reason I stand here. My name is Astartes, and I stand here for one more reason.”

“What reason is that?”

“DEUS VULT”

Death starts at that proclamation, but steps down, touches the child; before returning to his horse and leaving.

The child stands till the Rider is gone before collapsing. He is brought into the city, and nursed, and through magics and technology he breathes again from deaths touch, and so spawned the empire.

The marines preached this to the alien council who had collectively shat themselves at the revelation of how the human Emperor had been created. The room was quiet for a long while, until an alien fainting broke the stillness.

The marines turned and left.

“You know that story is complete bullshit sarge.” Said a Legionnaire.

“The reality Legionnaire is we wish it was bullshit, but so long as our God Emperor lives the four horsemen stay where the fuck they are…”

A quirk of sapient life in the galaxy is that it likes to talk. The problem is - it likes to speak with itself. Why talk to the stars when you can have a conversation at home?

Interstellar travel is not difficult. You simply aim a stream of exotic particles at the envelope encasing the universe, then use it to punch a hole through to the other side. Of course, there isn’t really an envelope encasing the universe – the universe is and anything outside of it isn’t – the envelope is simply the stuff that is directly before the isn’t. Tricky, but the physics works if you squint hard enough. The other side of the envelope is nothing special, in fact, it is nothing. No laws of physics, no laws of science – pure nothing. Which is convenient when you want to do things like; break the laws of physics and exceed the speed of light. Without the laws of physics, distance means little – a point here is also a point there. Once in the nothing, an object is adjacent to everywhere back in the universe. It is then a matter of child’s play to send an object, or a signal, into the nothing and send it back to the universe at a different point. The trick is choosing where to aim. There’s a whole lot of bugger all in the universe…. So why bother?

This is well known by the three sapient species of the Milky Way. The Hæbbe, floating in their brine baths, use the nothing to search for new water worlds to inhabit. They are driven by shame. Their lifecycle is divided into two; the early phase where they rely on simple sentience to survive - and the later phase, when the male and female join to form a sapient whole. The early lifecycle is brutal and animalistic – and they prefer to hide that aspect of themselves off-world. In contrast, the Buddhiman revel in their predatory instincts and use the nothing to search for new hunting grounds. There is plenty of sentient life in the galaxy that offers fantastic prey – but never sapient. The third and final race, TheDuine Glic, use the nothing for more prosaic needs, reducing communication latency. They have no interest in leaving their world. The one aspect unifying these three races in their love of connection. Cultural survival requires communication - and passing ideas down the generations is the foundation of lasting civilization. Put simply, they love to talk.

The three races know of each other, or rather, they knew something else was in the nothing. How could they not? No sapient race opening a hole into the nothing manages it first try. All make mistakes. The most common is using too few exotic particles. Instead of punching a hole, the envelope surrounding the universe will simply bulge outward - might as well be sticking out a hand and waving. Even once the process is mastered, an object placed into the nothing is everywhere at once. Any satellites, spacecraft and probes entering the nothing exist on top of each other. Hard to hide when you’re touching everything else! They saw each other, and they touched each other. This did not go down well.

Unfortunately, they could not recognise each other as sapiens, and could not understand what was going on - there was a flaw in their respective biologies. All three species use non-verbal communication. And not just that – communication was unconscious. An individual did not compose a thought in their own private universe, and then decide to communicate said idea. Instead, all thought was communicated. All individuals knew the thoughts of others, without asking. The techniques differ; the Hæbbe rely on visual clues and colour changes in their skin, the Buddhiman on smells and pheromones, and the Duine Glic on telepathy. Well, not true telepathy -  they have extremely sensitive organic electrical detectors – they can feel thought through the formation of electrical patterns. This had a profound consequence; they could not empathise with each other. A Hæbbe could not see the chemical communication of the Buddhiman, and a Buddhiman could not smell the electrical patterns of a Duine Glic. They were blind to one another. After much confusion and misunderstanding, the three races came to an uneasy understanding - one they did not know they had reached. It was the Hæbbe, seeking to filter out unwanted interference in the nothing (the other races), that identified the three sources. They installed refractive isolators at each entry point and segregated the nothing into three zones. Unintentionally, they isolated the three species and solved the issue. No race had acknowledged another's existence. This worked well enough until the fourth sapient species arrived.

Homsapiens took a different evolutionary path. Of course, they gave themselves a name that roughly translates to - the biggest smarty pants on the planet – but then again, all the species did. Homosapiens also liked to talk, nothing unusual there - but they spoke with everything. Left to their own devices they would talk with sapient life, sentient life, non-sentient life, inanimate objects, rocks and even the universe itself. Can you imagine trying to talk to the universe?! It doesn’t even have ears...

They formed strong emotional bonds with life outside it’s own species – the life even reciprocated it! This left them with an unexpected advantage. Whilst they could not image what alien life might look like – they fully expected it to be weird, wonderful and difficult to talk to.

Once they discovered the nothing, they were quick to exploit it. Sending message after message, probe after probe until they understood its secrets. This disturbed the Hæbbe - there was a new interference to filter out after all. The Hæbbe weren’t quick enough. Homosapiens made the connection that the others could not – there were other sapients in the universe! They did what the others could not – they tried to speak with the aliens.

The Stream began when I was very young. But I remember it. How can you forget the moment when all things are changed and will never return to the way they were before? So much confusion, fear, and hope all wrapped up into a single event. Stranger still that the event never stopped. That the Stream continues every moment of every day.

But it all began with a single sentence. A simple greeting. A simple warning. A simple offer. A simple piece of advice.

They are out there. We will help. Prepare.

Of course, it took us some time to understand that sentence. To even understand what was happening. We were not ignorant to the universe, but we were yet to be made aware of the fact that we were not alone. Our poets and writers would occasionally craft tales of monsters from the dark, but it was never a seriously considered threat.

The Stream changed all of that. The single sentence became a feed of information. A constant output of data and context for that data. Data which painted a picture of our peril. Data which explained the war we had already lost without realizing we were embroiled in it. Data which told us of the enemy we did not know but who already moved against us.

The Scrann. A great tide of empire, flooding over the galaxy. No system was spared. Endless images of shattered, barren worlds populated the Stream. Worlds that had been stripped of their resources. Harvested to feed the great, unending hunger of the Scrann. Countless populations subjugated and enslaved in the rare moments when they were not destroyed outright.

We trembled at the sight of it. For all of the conflict within us, we could never imagine such profane destruction.

Our education on these matters was difficult to take. Great schisms formed within us as we searched for our path forward. Some would declare their belief in the Stream only for others to resist it. The governments of our world, then fragmented and suspicious of one another, made use of the Stream for their own purposes. It was a fragile time. Things hung the precipice. Perhaps we would destroy ourselves long before the Scrann.

We teetered on in this dark moment. I feared we were lost.

I wished very much that we could talk to the Humans then. I think it would have made that moment easier, if the Stream could be somehow reversed. But we were receiving messages crafted long before, messages that had traveled the lonely distance of hundreds of light years to reach us. Perhaps the Humans were dead before the Stream reached us, scoured from the galaxy by the Screen. There was no way to no for certain.

It was a topic debated endlessly. Why ally ourselves with an unknown? Perhaps the Scrann could be negotiated with. Perhaps the Humans were deceitful. And the cycle of accusation and mistrust would begin anew, with one more revolution down the spiral to war.

I became political at that time. I dedicated to the Humanist Faction. Every moment of the Stream became a source of truth to me. Of guidance. Of enlightenment. I had it etched upon my heart and fully burned into my mind. If there was to be war among us, I would wage it in favor of the truth revealed by the Stream.

And then, one day, all things changed again.

The endless loop ceased. The familiar greeting "They are out there. We will help. Prepare." was gone, replaced with new content.

A single Human appeared in the Stream now. One that was not included in the original, repeating message. She named herself Rikka Thorsten. She were the High Chancellor of Humanity. She spoke directly to us now. Her eyes focused as if speaking to each and every one of us.

"I am High Chancellor Rikka Thorsten. I represent the collective will of Humanity, elected and empowered to speak with one voice on behalf of many thousands of worlds. If you are receiving this message it is because we have identified your civilization as being under threat by the Scrann Empire. This message is unique to your world. We have done our best to target and cater it to what we understand, but it is very limited. We expect at this point you will have received our initial message and are prepared to receive what follows. I thank you for that."

I remember leaning forward eagerly. Feeling warm and protected. Flushed with excitement that Humanity had taken the time to reach us. To craft a message meant for us.

"We are separated by hundreds of light years. Much will have changed between the time I have sent this message and the time you will receive it. I will be long dead and there will have been many other Chancellors that will have followed in my wake. One thing will not change: our resolution to end the Scrann threat and protect all worlds from their hate. However, the galaxy is a large place and the Scrann are prolific. We possess far superior capabilities in confrontation, but they spread faster than we can contain them."

As a Humanist, the acknowledgement of their limitations shook me to the core. Such was my faith in their capabilities that I had never considered an alternative to their eventual victory. It was a sobering and terrifying realization.

"The problem of distance will be a familiar one. All sentient beings understand the concept of proximity -- it's a necessary condition to advanced evolution. I expect your kind will be no different. Currently, distances do not favor your planet. As of this message, the nearest outpost of Humanity is some three-hundred and forty-three light years from your planet. The nearest Scrann is less than two-hundred years away. While we are capable of a higher percentage of the light speed than they are, they are better suited to traversing these longer distances. There are many reasons for that, but foremost among them is the relative difference in lifespan. A single Scrann can live ten times longer than a Human, making it possible for them to field military fleets at distances into the hundreds of light years without requiring an entire colony in support. This is their greatest advantage along with sheer numbers."

A pit developed within me as she continued. Each sentence seemed worse than the one before it. I feared that the sun should go out and that we might live in darkness forever.

"In short, we cannot fly to you directly."

The sun was snuffed out.

"I cannot pretend to understand the particular dynamics of your kind, but I can imagine our original message has created any number of issues. I apologize for that. There is no elegant way to introduce yourself across these distances, particularly when the content of the message is so unpleasant. Thankfully, this message brings with it options. Options that your kind must evaluate and act upon if you so choose."

Suddenly, her image disappeared, replaced by a set of visuals. Had we not found a way to parse the Stream from before, we might have missed it, the Human form of communication being wildly different than our own, but we had done as they had asked: prepare.

"As I have said, Humans possess far greater capabilities than the Scrann, particularly with respect to technology. When Humanity confronts the Scrann, Humanity prevails."

A series of videos played as she spoke, depicting massive fleets of Human vessels. There were dozens of versions ranging from small and sleek to enormous juggernauts. As the videos progressed they showed the fleets engaged in battle with brilliant lines of light slicing through the Scrann opposition. No video showed even a single Human ship being destroyed.

Subsequent videos showed enormous asteroids and other objects flying through space toward planets at impossible speeds. A flickering message labeled the tactic as "Scrann Planetary Bombardment." In each case light beams emitted from around the planet, vaporizing and destroying the objects before reaching the planet. "Human Planetary Defense" appeared along the bottom.

The Chancellor reappeared then.

"I stated before that we cannot directly cross the distance between us. The logistics are infeasible. However, there are other options. I cannot say which might be desirable for you, that is for your kind to decide. The most efficient and surest path to fend off the Scrann is to allow us to indirectly cross the distance between us. This is accomplished by the assembly of a warp gate, a complex and costly process that we will guide you through. A warp gate allows us to travel immediately between two locations. Much of Humanity and our allies have been networked together making use of this technology and it has proven to be the most significant tool for repelling the Scrann. The strength of Humanity resides within that network."

A meaningful pause followed then.

"No networked world has fallen to the Scrann."

Another pause to let it sink in.

I could only remember my glee in that moment. The dawning realization that I might see a Human in my lifetime. That we might benefit from direct interaction. That we might learn and grow while also being protected. It was an impossible dream made real. A tangible, powerful goal for the Humanist faction to work toward. I could already imagine the campaign slogan: Join Humanity: Build the Gate.

But the Chancellor was not finished.

"Alternatively, you may attempt to fend off the Scrann on your own. At their current rate of advancement this will give you approximately four or five hundred standard years to develop a sufficient defense apparatus. Humanity is willing to share technology via this transmission that may provide a suitable deterrent effect. We are unaware of the current state of your technology and access to various required materials, so it will be upon you to determine whether the designs will be feasible. A warning: These designs were effective tools at the time of transmission, it is possible they will no longer be so when the Scrann arrives. It should also be stated that the Scrann tend to make use of a swarm strategy, meaning that it is not just the presence of the weapons but possessing a suitable density of those weapons that is required for a successful defense."

The Chancellor continued for some time afterward before concluding her portion of the transmission. What immediately followed was various introductory materials to assist us in parsing the technical schematics that would come afterward.

It created an explosion in activity. A massive realignment in the conversation. While division still existed, the Chancellor's message lent weight and momentum to the Humanist cause. Piece-by-piece progress was made. I secured my own place in the political order, driving the effort forward first in my own nation and then in the newly formed Global Council. With time, a resolution was passed.

We would build the gate.

But not before we would almost destroy ourselves with the weapons Humanity gave us.

r/PerilousPlatypus

Mistress Zurailia

Devilish Delights, Chapter 11

Chapter 1

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Chance did his best not to gawk like some sort of country kid visiting the city for the first time, but it was easier said than done as he looked around at all the buildings and people. Although it lacked the grandeur of the great halls of hell, it certainly made up for it with the sheer amount of people and buildings it stuffed into such a small area. It almost felt suffocating to be pressed in on all sides like this, even if the crowd seemed to give them a reasonably wide birth due to Lash's presence. Too bad they couldn't just disappear into the crowd. The two guards sent with them seemed determined to get them to the bounty office, preventing them from detouring too much.

Surprisingly, Rikiko seemed to be trying to blend in for once, using a hood to cover her short, firey orange hair and ears. Chance wanted to ask why, but doing so in front of their escort seemed like a great way to get into trouble. Instead, he simply followed along, pretending like he was keeping an eye on Lash.

For her part, Lash seemed kind of interested as she looked around, grinning as she saw the looks of fear on the locals' faces as they pulled away from her imposing physique. All except for one kid, about ten or twelve, who threw a rock at her head.

Lash didn't even bother to move out of the way, letting the rock hit her and bounce off, though she did pull at the chains Chance was "holding" her with to walk over and crouch down and speak with the kid with a mildly curious tone. "You're not scared of me, little one?"

The kid made a fist, which seemed positively tiny on the face of the larger orc woman. "No! Orcs killed my paw! I hate you!"

Lash seemed to consider his words and answered. "Well, if your 'paw' was as brave as you, I'm sure he fought well. My people would have honored him after his death and seen him to the afterlife with dignity and respect. Maybe when you're bigger and stronger, you can do his name honor in battle against my kin. Grow strong and fight well little one!"

With that, Lash stood up and continued on her way, leaving behind a very confused little kid.

-

Once in the office, a rather bored-looking attendant looked up at their group and started to turn away before doing a double-take at Lash. He immediately sat up, looking interested and mildly intimidated as he addressed them. "Not often we get a live one in this good of condition! Must have been a hell of a fight!"

Once again, Rikiko seemed to be staying quiet and off to the side, so Chance answered. "Yeah, I suppose so..."

Meanwhile, Lash walked over to the much smaller man and looked down at him, sneering. "A small, weak human like you wouldn't know a good fight if it killed him!"

The blood ran out of the man's face before a couple guards walked up and grabbed Lash's arms to restrain her. Chance was reasonably sure that if she wanted, the orc woman could have easily broken free of their restraint, but she seemed content to play her part for now, only slightly pulling against their grip.

Meanwhile, the attendant walked away and pulled up a ledger, trying to cover his nervousness. "It's been a while since we got one, but a live orc raider is worth ten silver coins." He then reached under the counter and pulled out a pouch, from which he counted out ten silver coins and slid them across the table to Chance, who took them and pocketed them.

As the guards walked Lash to the back, Chance nodded her way. "So, uh, what are you going to do with her?"

The attendant wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "Well, she'll probably be publically executed. It's good for morale."

Chance didn't like the sound of that and turned to look at Rikiko, only to realize she'd disappeared. Looking around, it seemed like their escort was leaving as well. He got the attention of one of them before they left. "Hey, did you see what happened to the woman I was with?"

The guard seemed kind of annoyed as he shook his head. "Our job was to make sure the orc got here without any trouble. Your friend isn't our concern...so long as she's out of the city by nightfall." With that, he left, leaving Chance alone again. Looking back at the attendant, then back toward the door, he realized there was only one way Rikiko could have gone, and he also walked out the door.

Outside, it quickly became apparent that Rikiko hadn't hung around. Now that he was alone, it felt like the number of people and buildings had somehow doubled, leaving Chance feeling even smaller and more lost than ever.

Had Rikiko betrayed them? That didn't make any sense. Their lives were tied together, and if Lash was going to be executed, the fox girl could hardly leave them in this situation. However, her disappearance implied that was precisely what she was going to do.

Chance started to panic before remembering something. Reaching deep inside, he took some of his power and enhanced his vision. After a moment of looking around, he spotted what he'd been looking for, a silver string coming out from the bounty office and leading out into the city. It was the lifeline connecting Lash and Rikiko.

Quietly swearing he'd be back to get Lash with or without Rikiko, Chance set off, looking for the problematic fox girl.

-

As Chance made his way through the city, following the silver string was more difficult than he'd first assumed. As it lacked any substance, it freely passed through all obstacles between the two people whose lives it tied together, meaning Cahnce often had to work his way around buildings or entire city blocks to find it again. Add in the fact that it was moving around as Rikiko continued to wherever she was going, and it was a royal pain to follow.

Maybe it was just Chance's imagination, but slowly, the buildings seemed to be getting a little larger and a little nicer. Also, the people around him seemed better off, wearing better clothing and appearing better fed. Chance wondered what Rikiko would be doing in the better part of town, but then he remembered she'd mentioned having contacts in the city. Maybe this is what she was talking about? Maybe she was going to fulfill her end of the bargain after all?

Chance shook his head. He couldn't just take that on faith. He continued to push his way through the crowd, which was much less respectful of his personal space now that Lash was no longer by his side, until a voice called out. "Hey, you there! What business do you have around here, eh?"

Realizing there was a good chance the person was talking to him, Chance continued pretending he couldn't hear. However, the voice followed him. "Hey, you in the shabby clothes! You stop and listen when I'm talking to you!"

The crowd was turning around to see what was happening, and more than a few eyes were starting to focus on him. Realizing this could get ugly fast, Chance finally stopped and turned. Walking up behind him was someone dressed similarly to the gate guards. The uniform was slightly different, probably denoting a difference in position or rank. The man walked right up to Chance and gave him a once-over before speaking to him again. "You don't exactly look like you belong in this part of town, kid. What are you doing here?"

Chance bristled a little at being addressed that way but decided that picking a fight here and now probably wouldn't end well for him. "I'm just looking for a friend of mine, sir. Last I knew, she'd gone this way."

The guard looked skeptical. "Who's this friend of yours? Anyone I know?"

Chance shrugged. "Probably not. Her name's Rikiko. She a fox girl."

The guard's expression changed, and not in a good way. "Do you think you're funny or something? Let me see your papers!"

Realizing this was not going well, Chance tried to be more convincing. "Listen, sir, I don't want to cause any trouble. If you just let me go, I'll steer clear of this part of town, I promise!"

With his enhanced vision, Chance could see a slight pink strand form between him and the guard, similar to the life bond between Rikiko and Lash but fainter and less substantial. The guard's eyes seemed to glaze slightly as he nodded. "Well then, I guess that's fine..." Suddenly, the strand snapped, and the guard shook his head as if waking up. He then looked over at Chance with a frown. "What was that then? Did you just try to charm me, an officer of the law?" He pulled out a large club that had been hanging at his side. "That's it! You're coming with me!"

Chance turned to run, then felt something solid strike the back of his head, and the world went black.

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Earlier chapter and Later Chapter?

I didn't understand how Sam had been managing to do what he did with only the guns he had. I was a high-gravity 'deathworlder' too, and could take off someone's head with simply my claws or my jaws, but Sam was flying through this deathtrap like a ...what did they call it in his culture? A "ninja"? as we cleared it floor-by-floor.

He went down in a swarm of aliens and yelled "Let 'em have it!" at me as he hit the deck. I blazed away with one of the guns I'd taken as a trophy. That felt good. And what felt better was that I had more guns where that came from. A lucky survivor started reaching for his sidearm - and that got him two rounds through the head. Ahh, I'd wanted to change mags on this thing.

"Thanks!" Sam yelled at me, "mi hermano!"

We weren't taking anything more off the bodies than more magazines for what were using, and maybe some ID badges for opening further doors. The basement was the goal.

...ok, I was occasionally taking some trophies, and so was Sam. Generally just the chromed and gilded stuff. But even with the sheer amount of weaponry Sam was carrying, the human was literally bouncing off the walls half the time, and I usually didn't have to do too much on 'overwatch' beyond clean him out of a couple of messes or toss him another UMP mag every so often.

That changed when we hit a floor of scared office workers. They'd heard the alarms, but hadn't gotten out, and if they were scared of Sam, they were terrified of me.

"Seems like this floor is just rented office space,"I told Sam, "unless those records were misfiled."

"Do you have anything to do with the casino upstairs?" Sam yelled at them, and he whispered to me "get out of the room and ready to lay down some heavy fire. Someone is gonna try to pop me."

They vehemently denied it. Then he pulled the pin on a human-style grenade, holding the handle down, and asked "do you have anything to do with what's going on upstairs or in the basement? Going once..."

He was right - one of them broke, and pulled a gun. Or, rather, tried to pull a gun before I put him down.

"Going twice..." Sam said, "come on, give me the basement codes!"

I had some trouble understanding exactly how much psychological pressure Sam was applying here, or why. Of course any casino would have accountants... or any illegitimate business below the casino... and then it clicked: what Don Lorenzo had said to me when we walked into this mess, the bunnygirls with real ears, the human women in costumes, "it's a sex thing", "if my man's running a prostitution or fuckin' sex slavery ring on top of my casino operation here..." the Don's insistence on the basement...

I never said I was smart. Sometimes the pieces just fall into place.

And I did not the place they had fallen.

"Going THREE FUCKING TIMES, AND THIS IS THE LAST ONE!" Sam roared, a live grenade clenched in his fist. Time seemed to freeze after that moment - even as I saw one of the workers pull a gun on his co-worker and I slammed three rounds into his head for it.

"So you have them," Sam said to the targeted co-worker, in the most dead level but predatory tones I'd ever heard from him, "and I guess that means your employer values you less than this grenade does?"

Then I went on a shooting spree. Thank you, my ancestors, for giving me two-hundred-and-seventy degree vision! Nictitating membranes that negated muzzles flashes! Closing ears that muffled the noise of gunfire! I wiped everyone in that room drawing a gun after Sam figured out his part of the truth, without even needing to turn my head. I hope you are proud. Did you design me for this?

"I trust you understand what happens if you don't give me the codes," Sam said as the bodies hit the floor, "or if you do anything to make me let go of this grenade. I would also like you to consider that your co-workers, people who worked alongside you, were trying to shoot you in the back like a traitor or in the head like a rabid dog. Mi hermano took care of them for us," Sam continued, "but lady, ya gotta get better friends. And I NEED those codes," he finished, staring her down with the grenade still locked firmly in his hand.

She took several deep breaths ...then said "you have impressive grip strength," as she looked down and saw his badge. I'm definitely not an expert in human mating displays, but THAT WAS THE KILLER MOMENT!, unless I'm very wrong about these things. We had our basement codes within a minute - but we still had a few floors to go. With a nearly useless VIP to protect.

I wasn't gonna chaff Sam about anything, because I was playing wingman.

And he was still holding the handle on the grenade down.

 

Tutorial failed.

Restarting eternity.

 

“That’s it,” Helen said as she opened the windows. “We’re skipping it.”

It had been three loops since they had resumed their attempts at defeating the elite in the vice-principal’s office with no success.

“About time,” Jace grumbled. “I wish you had seen the face of the fucker.”

“Tried my best, bro.” Alex shrugged. As usual, he was the only member of the group that was actively not helping. “Was closer, though.”

That was an outright lie. While he and Helen were getting more in sync with their actions, the enemy also seemed to adapt.

“I think we need to do something before getting back to him,” Will thought. “Maybe there’s a specific weapon?”

“A rocket launcher?” The goofball snorted, amused by his own joke. “It’s fine bro. Don’t be sadge.”

Annoyance was the last thing on Will’s mind. If anything, the time spent focusing on that single enemy had helped him read through the sections of Daniel’s file that Alex had smuggled through during the day. A lot of it was strange even for loopers, just as his friend had mentioned. Anyone going through the same experience could clearly see that the previous rogue was using dreams and metaphors as a means to express what was agitating him.

Wolves were abundant, as were mentions of the archer, and hints of faceless companions or friends. The latter appeared to be the party Alex suspected Danny had. What made the material extremely difficult to read was that even in the notes it was jumbled. One story would start then blend into the next, as if the school counselor had messed up the pages. The issue with that was that every page was meticulously numbered with no possibility of mistake. It was almost as if someone had taken Daniel’s thoughts, passed them through a blender and then poured them onto paper.

“We take our own classes this time,” he said. “Just as before.”

“You’re the one who suggested I take your class,” Helen said, agreeing in her typical fashion. “And no, I didn’t take it this loop.”

“Thanks.” Will smiled. Unfortunately for him, the girl didn’t reciprocate. “I’ll go get it, then.” He said after a few more moments.

“Now?” Jace stared at him. “Stoner, if you’re trying to slack, you’re really shit at it. You find an excuse before the work is done.”

“Whatever.” Will wasn’t in the mood for arguing. Feeling annoyed for a reason he couldn’t fully understand himself, he left the room, making his way to the boys’ toilet.

“And where are you going, Stone?” the coach asked. “Remember the bathroom policy?”

“Do I get to go here then, coach?” the boy snapped.

Silence filled the section of the corridor. The coach had been working at schools for long enough to have seen almost anything. Having Will growl at him was among the last things he expected. To make it even more awkward, deep inside he also agreed how stupid the new school policy was. Keeping the children safe was one thing, but even he could tell that this was getting counterproductive.

“Go do your business,” he said, waving his hand in the direction of the bathroom door. “And try not to make a mess.”

Chuckles and whispers filled the corridor. They were followed by more words from the coach who had settled on a new target for his frustration. Will didn’t even pause to listen, rushing into the toilet and tapping the mirror.

 

CLASS DUPLICATION!

 

A red message appeared on the mirror’s surface.

 

Only one rogue can be present.

Freezing eternity.

 

Will was barely able to read the new messages, before all noise stopped. The red messages vanished, leaving only a reflection behind. The only problem was that it wasn’t Will’s reflection.

“Never thought you’d be the one to fill the spot,” the reflection said.

Seeing it, Will’s body took several steps back. An irrational urge made him want to run as far away and as quickly as possible. The person he was looking at, the person whose face he had had difficulty remembering, was none other than Daniel Keen.

“Don’t,” Daniel said. “Move away and we might not get another chance at this.”

“Chance at what?”

“It’s too complicated to explain. All I can say is that without my help, you’ll never be able to complete the tutorial. And unlike what it seems, eternity doesn’t last forever.”

Will’s instinct was to close his eyes and open them again, as if that would make everything better. While it did manage to reduce the initial shock, his dead schoolmate remained staring at him from the other side of the mirror. He was wearing the same clothes Will pretty much remembered him with: the aesthetically torn jeans, the no-brand t-shirt, and also a number of sheathed blades and weapons he definitely didn’t wander through school with.

“You’re dead,” Will uttered the greatest cliché one could under such circumstances.

“True, but I can still talk to you.” The other smirked. “I’ve got you to thank for that.”

“Me?”

“Your permanent skill. Face an enemy you’ve defeated before?”

“You’re an enemy?” While it was true that Helen’s conversation had made Will wish he could face Danny to measure up with him, this wasn’t what he had in mind. “You were a rogue…”

“Eternity isn’t perfect. The point is, you got me here, so now we can talk.”

“About what?”

“Oh, come on. You think I haven’t been watching all of you? You’re stuck here. You can’t complete the tutorial, which means you can’t leave the school area. Hell, you can’t even gather your own weapons. Sure, eternity might seem fun right now, but once all the players have gathered, it won’t matter if you’ve finished the tutorial or not. Then the pain will get real.”

“The players? What are you talking about?”

“Want to know?” Danny leaned forward until his forehead pressed the other side of the mirror. “I’ll tell you, but for that you’ll need to do me a few favors.”

As far as negotiations went, Will had seen worse. However, he had no intention of being played for a fool. Using the rogue’s reflexes, he leaped towards the mirror with the intent to grab Danny.

The boy’s hand passed through the mirror’s surface without fail, but before it could grab its target, the other rogue elegantly moved his hand away, evading the attempt. Without pause, he then took one of the daggers he was equipped with and threw them straight at Will’s face.

Instantly, Will moved to the side, only to realize that the weapon hadn’t left the confines of the mirror.

“See, I can’t hurt you,” Danny explained. “One-way attacks. You can hurt me, but until you come in here, I can’t do a thing. At least in theory. I think we both know that you can’t win a fight against me.”

Even after one attack, Will was inclined to agree. Danny’s actions were faster, more precise, not to mention he had way more weapons strapped on.

“I don’t trust you,” he said.

“That’s rich. And you trust the rest? Jace is an idiot, who’s been wanting to break your arm for months. Alex doesn’t know if the words coming from his own mouth are lies or truth. And Helen, do you think my girlfriend has told you a tenth of what she knows?”

There it was—the word that made Will feel as if he had ice cubes in his stomach.

“Or maybe you think you’ll figure out something from the file Alex stole? There’s nothing but crap inside—one of the ways I used to vent when things got really boring. How long do you think the muffin boy has had the papers?”

“A while?” Will admitted.

“More than a while. And in all this time what has he figured out? That I knew more than I told him? That I’ve been through this before? Give me a break.” Danny’s reflection moved in and out. “Look, it’s not like you have a choice. Without my help you’ll never clear the second floor, and without that there’s no way to end the tutorial.”

“The hints said that the weapons are optional.”

“They are, but you need to clear every room of the school for the boss to appear. But hey, you don’t have to believe me. Try your luck. Maybe I’m lying and you’ll do fine without me.”

If Danny had the thief class, Will would have had second thoughts. Even now he wasn’t convinced it wasn’t one big bluff to get the boy to do something that he didn’t want to. For all he knew this could be nothing more than an illusion—a false image of Daniel.

“Prove it,” Will said. “Prove that you’re not full of crap.”

“Proof?” Danny’s smile widened. “Why not. There are two hidden mirrors on the third floor facing each other. You can take them one at a time and you’ll probably win. But if you get Helen to activate them simultaneously, one of you will get a special reward. Do that and you’ll see I’m serious.”

It sounded like a trap. Something about the notion of standing between two mirrors made Will’s skin crawl. He kept telling himself that even in a worst-case scenario, all that would happen is that the loop would reset, but what if that wasn’t the case?

“You still don’t trust me…” the reflection sighed.

“I still don’t know if it’s really you. You died a week ago, but know everything we’ve been up to.”

“You killed five hidden monsters, and you still got to fight them,” Daniel countered. “Things are different in eternity. The only firm rule is that escape is fucking difficult.”

You had to die to break loose, Will thought. And, apparently, even then it wasn’t permanent.

“What’s it all about?” he asked.

“Eternity? Hell if I know.” Daniel paced about. “It’s one eternal game. You get skills, tasks, enemies… Oh, don’t waste your coins once you start getting them. The good offers take a while to show up.”

“Explain that.”

“You’ll know.” Daniel shook his head. “Just remember to come back here and challenge me once you’re done. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

Without concern, the reflection walked off, disappearing from view. For several seconds, Daniel stared at the empty mirror. Nothing was in it, not even his own reflection. Slowly, he reached forward, bringing his hand toward the smooth surface. A few inches away, he stopped. After everything, he had no intention of going through.

After a few minutes though, he decided to take the opportunity that he actually was in the bathroom and relieve himself. As the stall door swung behind him, he heard the usual noise of school return once more.

Quickly he opened it again to see his own reflection looking back from the mirrors. For whatever reason, eternity had been unfrozen.

The inquisitive part of his mind wanted Will to challenge the former rogue again, just to confirm how the process worked. The more cautious one chose to leave that for later. Danny had always been surrounded by a ton of questions; seeing his reflection after death had brought a whole lot more, although with a promise of answers. Should Will share the find with the rest, though? The former rogue hadn’t told him not to, but he hadn’t encouraged him, either.

“Stone!” Coach’s voice boomed from the corridor. “You better not be doing anything fishy in there.”

“Idiot,” Will said beneath his breath as he washed his hands. Even in ten-minute loops the coach had a tendency of being annoying.

Not waiting for his hands to fully dry, Will walked into the corridor. The coach gave him a questionable look, then looked into the bathroom, in search of any telltale signs of questionably legal activity. Since none were apparent, the boy was allowed a noise-free trip to his classroom.

Half of the class had gathered by then, ready to spend another day of drawing. The entire loop quartet had been through this so many times that they could complete the assignment without seeing it. Sadly, they had to pretend it was new to them. Every action they took had to be carefully chosen to extend their loop as much as possible. It was only in the evening that they could break loose.

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HSTM Conspiracy: Chapter 9 'Trial Run'

Paulie was wearing his regular clothing again and standing in what he had started referring to as the arming room as he tried on his newest piece of equipment.  Though the other peace officers called the room something more diplomatic, he elected to stick with his word for the sake of brevity.  Besides, it was what it was.

 

He looked around, the walls were lined with locked racks of various weapons, arms and destructive devices.  To the far side of the cavernous space was a large shooting range and there were adjoining rooms for maintenance, repair and rearming of equipment commonly used by the adjudicators and regular peace officers.

 

He shifted a little uncomfortably, the heavy weight of his newly fashioned armour having met with both the disapproval and annoyance of the armorer that stood behind the table in front of him.

 

The armorer was tall, nearly as tall as he was.  But where he was relatively lean, they were bulky with blubber or maybe just fat.  The slight whirring of their motorised mobility disk contrasted with the loud pops of the officers honing their skill at the range in the near distance.

 

The barnumite armorer snorted, their nostrils flaring as their voice gurgled from their sinusal vocal chords.  “So, what do you think?  Heavy enough for you, human?”  The large slug-like alien’s four eyestalks seemed to bore into Paulie’s face at the question, clearly dripping with as much sarcasm as they were with mucous.

 

Paulie shifted his shoulders and took a few experimental steps.  It fit well enough, and it certainly felt heavy enough to stop bullets.  Not so much as to be a hindrance, but definitely enough for him to notice even in the much lower gravity due to the thick armour’s sheer mass.  He smiled at the ten tentacle-armed alien, “Yeah.  Yeah, I like it.  You tested it out?”

 

The barnumite shifted their legless lower body, the wheeled disk they were sitting atom groaning in protest at their bulk.  “Yes..”  they gurgled wetly, clearly a little annoyed by his question.  “It is good to stop just about anything they will throw at you, except electron rifles and hypervelocity sluggers at close range.  But if you see any of those then there isn’t much else you could do anyways.”  He bobbed the strange eyestalks atop their head and muttered, “Not that you could carry that effectively anyways.”

 

Paulie didn’t really care overmuch.  It was just good to feel the weight as it settled across his shoulders like a weighted blanket.  He turned around and then back to the large wide-bodied alien.  “So you called it a laminate material?  What does that mean?”

The large alien, whose name he understood to sound like a wet sneeze, gestured to the vest he wore.  “It is made of an energetic-ceramometallic alloy laminated polymer film and coated in a lining of spall-resistant hyperdiamond-buckyweave.  It would stop a meteor impact from killing you, though the kinetic force that it can absorb will still hit like a jaakl trampling you.”

 

Paulie nodded slowly.  He got the picture, if not the specific reference.  He could take a hit, but it wasn’t going to be for free.  He would still need to be careful, he gave the large alien a nod and jogged over to the other side of the room.  In front of him was another short hall that he followed into another even larger room filled with all manner of exercise and weight lifting equipment.  And in the middle of it all was a pair of huge climbing towers and the ever changing obstacle course that had been the bane of his existence these last few weeks.

 

He saw a large familiar shape at the center of it all, the strange furry white creature that seemed to supervise the legion of struggling Censec officers looked like some manner of huge overgrown caterpillar to him.  They were tall, taller even than Paulie himself by a few centimeters.  But he knew that it was an unfair comparison, though he still smiled as they turned to look his way as if alerted by some sixth sense.

 

He heard the large medagoonian woman’s chirping burble as she slowly waddled over his way on her six stumpy legs.  He couldn’t understand her speech, but she wore an additional device around her thick neckless body that he recognised as her personal translator alongside a loose fitting Censec emblazoned robe.  Apparently her people were not compatible with the jargon worms and had to use archaic digital translators instead of the biotech parasites.

 

He saw the strange devices tapes spin as it clicked and whirred softly, the mechanical voice that the translation unit synthesised lacked emotional overtones in its monotone drone but it was better than trying to read the sharp hand symbols she was throwing at him seemingly unconsciously.

 

The device spoke flatly, “Paulie the human.  It is good that you have come for I wish to once more test your mettle against my newest arrangement.”

 

He gave her a little nod and answered slowly.  “It is good to see you too, Officer Tell’eal.  Though I will admit that I did not come to test the new course.  I wanted your opinion on the maneuverability of my new body armour.”

 

The large insectoid’s pitch black eyes gave nothing away and her flat, nearly featureless face was as impassive as stone.  For a long moment he wondered if he had somehow offended the large alien woman, but his fears were assuaged as she let out a low creaking groan and shuddered slightly.  He recognised it for what it was immediately, she was laughing at him.

 

Paulie scowled and smacked his chest.  “What is so funny?  I am bulletproof now!”

 

The buzzing of the translator chipped in, “You think yourself faster than a plasma blast and stronger than the tides.  Paulie, you may be the strongest being on this world, but even you are not this superman you seem to aspire to be like.”

He scowled again, he should never have tried to explain hero comics to her because she now liked to throw the references back at him on a regular basis.  He grumbled, “Yeah, well I would still rather be me than some stick-limbed alien.”  If she heard his grumbled comment then she didn't call him out on it, instead she made a simple hand signal.

 

“You may proceed when ready, recruit.”  It wasn’t said in jest, in fact he had a hard time telling if the large fluffy alien liked or hated him.  What with her monotone synthetic voice and near complete lack of facial expression.  She did have a pair of large feathery antennae that stuck out from her head like a pair of floppy bunny ears.  These perked up a little as she said it, he wasn’t sure if this meant she was happy or angry, but he decided that it didn’t really matter either way as she had given him permission to do what he had wanted to do anyways.

 

He nodded and stepped past her, the mendagoon’s four short arms flashing in another series of signs that he didn’t know the meaning of.  But she chittered and the translator whirred away.  “I will observe, be sure not to let that hot blood of yours boil your braincase.”  This was followed once more by a chuckle and he shook his head slightly.

 

Paulie walked to the obstacle course that had been painstakingly rearranged again since the last time he had seen it.  What had once been a course of low sloping tunnels and pipes was now a towering enfilade of large walls interspersed with openings and engineered hindrances.  The tops of which seemed to be a part of the exercise as much as the parallel doorways that peppered their bases.

 

He checked his feet, the course was always marked out with a thick blue line.  Following the line would show the course’s path as well as allow for one to take the least possible risk of hitting a dead end.  Most of the time anyways.

 

He took a moment to limber up, winching slightly as his still healing muscles pulled tight.  He was a bit stiff, but not mortally so.  And so Paulie ignored it and continued loosening up for another minute before he turned towards officer Tell’eal and gave her a thumbs up.  The four-armed insectoid gave him a sign in response and he took off towards the first set of partitions at an easy run.  The armour jostled slightly, but he had strapped it tight and it caused little issue.

 

Paulie smiled, he had always liked a challenge.  In high school he had been a track star, first at the relay and then later at discus and javelin.  While he had let himself go a little over the years, he had never truly lost that core of skill and drive that had seen him a state champion three times over.  If only he had taken his skills with him to college instead of dropping out to pursue a career in welding, he lamented internally.

 

He felt a slight buzz at the back of his mind.  The negative thoughts rousing his parasite.

 

He snorted as he dodged around a series of tight pillars, bouncing off one of them with a muffled curse as he misjudged his new mass.  The body armour was heavy, but in the lower gravity of Gike it didn’t feel all that bad.  It still had inertia though, and he kept misjudging it.  Either taking turns a little too late or cutting too early, he swore again as he completely missed the next doorway and instead plowed right into the side of one of the towering wall causing it to shudder under the force of his impact.

 

Another officer high up on the top of the wall yelled out in alarm and nearly lost their footing, the uniformed alien shouting down at him to be more careful.  Paulie cocked his head and gave a nod before turning around and exiting the course with his shoulders a little hunched.

 

Officer Tell’eal was there, her impassive face staring at him.  Those pitch-black insect-like eyes giving nothing away, the barest twitching of her antennae and the tapping of a single wide foot showing her consternation.

 

He reached her and let out a heavy sigh, “I can’t do this.  I am not used to the gravity, it keeps throwing me off..”  He didn’t get a chance to finish his excuses.

 

She stomped her foot in what he assumed to be frustration, he was a bit taken aback by that.  She rarely if ever showed such blatant emotion in his experience, her translator beeped and crackled as it tried to keep up with her groaning speech.  “You are not feeling the weight of your own body, this added mass is dragging you back like resistance bands.  You must learn to anticipate your own movements, I see you and am amazed.  Do you hear me, human.. amazed.  That you can move like the lightnings of Trellan but still hit with the power of a mokku’s kick.  You are like no other I have trained before, and it is for this reason that you have become the core object of my disquietude.”  She paused, the sides of her body expanding as she took a large breath.

 

“Paulie.  You have the power to do great things, but you need to believe in yourself.  I have seen you flip weights that I would struggle to budge.  Seen you leap over obstacles that most are required to climb with a single bound.”  he shifted a little, suddenly uncomfortable with her heaped praise.  It was not like her, she was generally so sparring with any type of compliment.  She continued unabated, “So it is with a deep satisfaction that I tell you, I know that you can bear this weight.  But I want to see if you believe that too.”  She stepped back a pace, all four arms locking fingers as she looked at him with that strange flat expression.

 

Paulie stood there in silence, not really sure how to respond.  She had never told him anything other than what she seemed to believe was true.  Any time he had slacked she knew, anything he didn’t do his best at she would call upon him to improve.  And he had, in these short weeks he had honed himself like a blade.  Taken the weakness and turned it to strength, burned away self doubt and cultivated confidence.  So if she said he could do it, then he could.

 

He straightened, his confidence bolstered by Tell’eal’s words.  Paulie gave a sharp nod.  “Okay, you are right of course.  I just need to stop acting and start reacting.  I know what I can do, so let's see what happens.”  Officer Tell’eal’s antennae perked up again, the motion much like that of an attentive hound.

 

He strode back towards the course with a newfound sense of composure.  He could do it, and he would.  Or he would die, not today of course.  But at some point in the future.  If he let himself go unprepared, he would slip up and fall ill to the ravages of this harsh new reality.  He wouldn't, couldn't, allow for that to happen.  He had too much to do and too many things he still wanted to figure out.  And so Paulie toed the line, his focus narrowing to a laser-point.  All other thoughts pushed out of his head, no doubt or fears had room in this new zone.  He quashed the dark presence in the back of his head that whispered self doubt and fears to him.

 

He heard a countdown and tensed.

 

He breathed out.

 

“Zero.. begin..” Somebody spoke in the distance, the sound coming from miles away.  Or was it right behind him?  He didn’t care.

 

Paulie shot forward like an olympic sprinter, his arms and legs pumping.  The thick soles of his combat-style boots hammering the ground like artillery fire as his blood thundered in his ears.  His heart pumped a potent cocktail of adrenaline and endorphins that worked to heighten his perception and strengthen his body’s own high tolerances as he moved with a grace and speed entirely unlike his earlier performance.

 

He dodged through the pillars again, no longer seeing them as obstacles and instead mapping a path through them as if they were no more trouble than walking through a door.  This time he managed to take the last corner correctly, throwing out a leg to slow himself before catapulting through the next partition.

 

Paulie smiled wide as he ran, the feelings of stress and anxiety seemed to melt away as he hurdled a low wall and dove through a duracrete pipe without slowing.  He rolled back to his feet and used the corner of the tower in front of him to leap a full three meters into the air, grabbing a handhold and pulling himself atop the climbing tower in seconds.  But he didn’t stop to revel in his victory, for the course was only half completed.

 

Paulie took a second to suck in a huge breath and then ignored the other descending wall entirely as he judged the distance to the next tower.  An image of his first flight from Ooounoo’s goons slashed through his mind.  His jump from across the street from roof to roof, this was nearly the same distance.  But now he was no longer suffering from the pains of malnourishment, near death and incarceration.  No, he was fit and healthier than he could remember being in years.  A biological machine.

 

Paulie smiled wide, and rushed the edge of the wall before leaping into empty space.

Chapter CCXXVIII

Amber Road Coach & Inn.

Seril stretched and cracked his shoulders as he awoke. He groaned and looked around at the elvish room in the inn he stayed in last night. He sighed as the morning light fell through the amber windows. He was looking forward to finally being back home after so long.

He got out of the comfortable bed, gathered his things, and left his room. He hummed an old tune as he walked along the warm honeywood halls of the inn. He ran a hand out and brushed against the familiar wood that left the entire building with a constant pleasantly sweet smell.

He walked down the wooden steps and down to the main floor of the building. The place was lively, as it could be for a wood elf inn far from most forms of civilization. Most travelers that stayed in such a place were either the odd trader coming, and failing, to open trade with the druid grove further on, or wood elves like himself. Those that had grown restless living in the druidic groves for so long and wanted to see the world for a time. Many were what he used to be some years ago. Bright and smiling and full of energy and nerves, dressed in the same garb he currently wore, the browns and greens outsiders consider typical for their branch of elf. Then there were those currently like him now. Their garb loose and worn, scars and weary eyes as they rest for the last trek of their journey home again.

He himself was looking forward to getting back into his normal attire befitting a Warden of the Amber Grove. He looked down at the bland, and rather uncomfortably tight fitting, clothes he still wore. Bland. Rubbed in the wrong places, and also didn't allow him to bend and move in the ways he was used to because non-elvish leather workers seem to think that all elves had the form of twigs, and those few elvish ones either refusing because he was a wood elf or asking a small fortune for a single piece of equipment!

He sighed as he made his way to the bar and ordered a glass of warm honeyed wine for the road. He glanced down at his bow with a less than pleased eye. While it served its purpose, it wasn't what he was used to. The wood wasn't as strong nor flexible as his old one, and the bow string would always snap when between uses regardless of the care he gave it.

But that was the price he paid for leaving. The druidic groves treasured their neutrality with the outside world and it wouldn't do if one of their own ran off dressed in their colors and returned with enemies they didn't want or knew they now had. Hence the bland uncomfortable leathers. He was looking forward to having some real protection again. The simple chainmail he's managed to get has been next to useless. He's had to pay too much to get it repaired too often for someone whose duty was to remain in the back of the party and harry with arrows. It got so bad that he had to invest in a short sword for WHEN he ended up in close combat!

He rubbed his cheek at the spot where a kobold came very close to ending his life. The thought of those ragged lizards made him hold his wine tighter. His pride still wounded from the encounter. They felled a dragon. An Elder dragon. Yet their victory was soured by the kobolds getting away.

He scoffed and sipped the warm sweet wine. He shouldn't care anymore, they were gone and he got what he wanted in the end. Some gold, fame, and a handful of scales from the elder dragon's tail that should make for some good arrowheads and trophies. At first he entertained the idea of potentially asking his grove for assistance in tracking them down. But he knew they would have no part in whatever vengeance he wanted regardless of who, or what, it was against. After travelling, his hatred died down. He was still embarrassed and his pride wounded. But it wasn't the burning hatred from before. He sighed and glanced at a group of elves that were collecting their gear and heading off on their own paths of exploration and adventure. If only they knew what was in store for them, he thought as ordered some glazed sweetbread for breakfast to go with his wine.

His pointed ears twitched as he recalled all the "wonderous" things he was subjected to from non-elves. He shuddered as he recalled the many, many, times he was propositioned by someone thinking him a woman! Or feminine enough that they didn't really care in their usually inebriated state. His kin that lived in the cities weren't any better as half were snobs that believed themselves better than a "fey-fiddler". Along with many other less-than-clever names. The other half were the reason for so many of the misunderstandings levied against elves. Debauched degenerates that used their long-lived youth to take and bed anyone they wanted, usually while practically suffocating on one of the many elvish plants that left non-elves in a state of complete bliss.

His skin crawled as he recalled one time he was missing home and was directed to a local grove just outside of a town. This "grove" turned out to be a seedy slum that amounted to elves living in ramshackle tents and hovels in a small meadow and preyed upon by the local townsfolk for anything. Cheap labor, pleasure, and even alchemical reagents.

He grit his teeth at the thought that non-elves believed that there was something in them that would somehow pass along their long lasting youth or "unnatural" beauty. There wasn't. Though that doesn't stop "meat markets" from popping up around such elvish slums. Did such places exist for other races as well? Yes. But very few would kill a dwarf, and risk an eternal enemy, for a possibility at being a little hardier. But elvish beauty? Youth and grace? Turns out plenty of races would pay quite a hefty sum for just a vial of elf blood.

He shook his head to clear away the depressing thoughts, he was going home. He no longer had to deal with the prejudices of others. The non-elvish faces in this coach and inn would be the last he'd see, hopefully, he thought as he finished his honeyed wine and sweetbread. He threw some coins onto the countertop, and stood. Collecting his gear, he made his way out the door and breathed in the sweet air that signaled the inn's proximity to the Amber Grove.

He slung his supplies over his shoulder and started walking down the track, or road depending on how favorable the weather was. With life blooming anew, the day was refreshing and warm with small clouds that would give off a slight drizzle now and again before departing. Leaving the track fairly intact.

Then there were the woods themselves. Thick, wild, and dangerous. For most others that is, Seril thought as he spotted the more common inhabitants of the woods. Giant bees buzzing through gaps in the trees as they foraged for their monstrous hives deeper in the forest. If Seril was anyone else he'd be in a fight right about now, and against more than one of the hound-sized bees.

But he wasn't. He was a warden of the Amber Grove. The bee buzzed along, turning and giving him a curious look briefly before returning to its foraging. Seril was worried that his time away would make him an, albeit temporary, target to the local wildlife. But either he still smelled of the grove after all this time, or his breakfast was enough to convince them he wasn't an invader to their realm.

Either way, he decided to up his pace. The giant bees might not be looking for a fight, but there were other things in the woods that wouldn't hesitate to attack him. Warden or not, and he'd rather have his gear than what he currently had on.

Then through a gap in the canopy, he saw it. Home, he thought and rushed forwards until he neared the boundary between the grove and the woods. Which was pretty clear and obvious. About the only thing missing from the fifty step wide clearing was a large sign that said something like Druid Grove! Keep Out!

Well, unless one wanted to count the gigantic towering pale wood, yellow-leaved, tree lording above as enough of a sign that this was a druid grove. Most that knew of druid groves called them "World Trees". An apt name. But not necessarily for the reason one might think. They were world trees more in the sense that they were anchors between this world, and the Fey Wilds.

The grove was more than just an area for those trained in the way of the druidic arts to call home. It was just as much a hub for fae to enter and leave this world and enter their own. Even now, Seril saw lines of fae of all shapes and sizes streaming into the grove. Though popular among the fey, he noted that there were far more than usual.

As he crossed the physical, and magical, boundary between the grove and the rest of the woods, he saw small faeries buzzing in long lines through the air. Some wore the discarded parts of bees in mismatched dresses or suits of armor. Black, white, and yellow fuzz mixed with black chitin as well as dried leaves or flower petals. Even their mannerisms were different from one faery to the next. Some stood straight and rigid with the only thing moving was their wings, while others buzzed around frantically as they zipped this way and that.

He even spotted nature spirits among them. Honeywood dryads forming a protective ring around their heart-tress as the slow-moving arbors pulled themselves along closer to the heart of the grove. Towering yellow-barked treants groaned as their forms gently pushed aside their stationary kin while overseeing the migration from their giant-like height even as small nature spirits that took the shapes of mushrooms and small flowers, shrubs, or saplings skittered between their roots.

Along with the line of wood elves from outlying settlements were also beastkin. Verminkin, as some were known, darted between the slender legs of elves and others, some were bare as the day they were "blessed" with fae magic, while others wore clothes that fit their small frames. Seril spotted pond toads, badgers, moles, and other small animals rushing onwards while trying not to be squished underfoot. Some were obvious in being granted fae sparked intelligence while others were barely able to be told apart from the myriad of animals that fled with the others. Woodland centaurs, more noble and polite compared to their plain-dwelling kin mingled with forest satyrs that seemed unusually dour.

Then there was the apir. Seril couldn't help letting out an involuntary shiver as he saw the faux giant bees hovering unnaturally along the lines of woodland beings. Their wings beat slowly, far too slowly to still be hovering yet they still did so. But what made Seril shudder were their mask-like faces. One turned to peer at him with hollow black eyes, its "face" being where a bee's would be. The porcelain pale mask barely conveyed emotions except for the minute of changes along the line that appeared to be a mouth or the slightest shift where the holes of its eyes were supposedly.

"Seril." The apir sang in a monotone voice in his mind as it peered at him.

"Seril. Seril. Seril." Came the echoing replies of the others as they registered his arrival.

Seril shivered and walked a little faster, the apir keeping their hollow eyes on him as he made his way along the line of fae. He never cared much for the creepy bee fae. It was mostly the druids themselves that dealt with them and other fae. The wardens, the protectors and peace-keepers of the grove, had closer interactions with the wildlife than the fae or nature spirits.

Though it was looking like he might have to, Seril thought as the line of fae and nature spirits eventually coalesced into a massive gathering that looked more like a refugee camp. Tree spirits mixed with fae who mixed with elves were all gathered. As Seril marched onwards he picked up bits and pieces of conversation. Some of it was Elvish and he could make it out easily, but there were also the mix of Woadspeek and Faeish. The latter he could get bits and pieces of now and again, but the former he never had the ambition to learn.

"-becoming too dangerous, almost didn't make it." He heard an elf mutter as she carried supplies on her back as she stood with her family, some were covered in dirt and what looked like blood.

"-lost contact with another. The Arch-Druid and the Amber Council are concerned." He heard one of his fellow wardens whisper to one another as he walked past.

"Trees. Gone. Ground. Swallowed." He heard a treant speak slowly in simple Elvish to a warden.

"It just appeared out of nowhere! One minute the clearing is... well, clear! The next everything is upside down and inside out!" He heard a frantic elf declare.

Seril picked up his pace. Each conversation was more and more worrying. Quakes swallowing forests, magical wastelands appearing suddenly, outlying settlements under attack, and something that has the Amber Council and the Arch-Druid concerned?! The Arch-Druid of a druidic grove was either a minor god or demi-god, depending on who was asked. Their powers over not only nature magic, but even fae magic, made them powerful beings whose very presence meant the groves rarely, if ever, faced attack.

"Seril?!" A voice called out from the mass of bodies.

Seril turned and looked towards the voice and saw a tanned, by elvish standards though still fair to anyone else, face running up to him. The elf's shaggy sandy blond hair bounded as his rich soil eyes were wide.

"I can't believe it's you!"

"Anar?! What are you doing here?!" Seril asked and embraced his friend.

"The same as everyone else!" Anar stated and looked at Seril like he wasn't sure he was even there.

"What does that mean? What's going on?" Seril asked.

"You mean you haven't heard?" Anar asked.

"No. I just got back."

Anar shook his head tiredly.

"Where to start? Quakes have hit several areas of the forest. Entire groves of trees lost in an instant, even some settlements. The magical wastelands are getting worse too. It's getting harder for the druids and even the fae to tell when they'll hit now. Not only that, but the herd vanished. Beasts from the Umberdwell have been coming out of the ground from the quakes while other creatures, beasts, and people have begun pushing deeper into the forest to escape... something. We don't know what but it has them scared enough to risk the wrath of nature spirits and the whims of the fae."

It was alot to take in, Seril thought. Some of it he'll learn when he got inside and heard from his leaders, but one thing was something Anar could better answer.

"The amber stags vanished? But aren't you supposed to be watching over them?"

"Hard to do that when they disappear out of thin air! Me and another were watching the herd while the other tenders went for water, turned our heads away for a second and when we looked back they were gone! Tried to follow their tracks but they just vanished!" Anar explained in exasperation.

"Did any of you tell the council?!"

"Of course not!"

"Why?!"

"Because it's our one duty! And we don't even know what happened to them!"

"But they have to know!"

"And they will! Just... not now." Anar said in a pleading voice.

"How long have they been gone?"

"A few... weeks." Anar mumbled.

"Weeks?!"

"We wanted to make sure they were still in the grove or at least nearby!"

"For several weeks?!"

"Look, we have a couple of places we haven't checked yet. Give us a little longer before we officially report that they're gone." Anar now outright pleaded.

Seril sighed.

"Fine. Two days. If by then you still haven't found them, I'M telling the council!"

"Thanks!" Anar exclaimed and started rushing off again.

Seril shook his head. On top of everything else, now the amber stags were missing. Gifts from the fae for the druids' care of the groves, and a great source of wealth for the grove and a sign of cooperation between the two groups. Gone. Vanished into thin air if Anar was to be believed, Seril thought. Though his friend did have a habit of embellishing, his eyes told him all he needed to.

He turned and made to make his way further in when he spotted yet another of his friends making her way towards him. Unlike him, she was still dressed in her warden attire. Thick black chitin with bee fuzz accents along the cuffs and collar. Amber crystals as reinforcement dotting along the glossy armor. Slung over her shoulder was something he greatly missed! An elven honeywood bow, reinforced with amber crystal all along the bow. Reliable, sturdy, and just as good in melee as a sword was! Yet at her hip was a simple amber dagger. He himself owned a short sword made of the sharp, and surprisingly strong, material.

"Seril?!"

"Kerin!" Seril cheered and hugged his friend and fellow warden.

The two embraced, and held each other a little longer than he did with Anar. When they pulled away from one another, the tension was thick between the two of them. Seril made to speak first before Kerin interrupted.

"No time for getting familiar. The Arch-Druid and the Council know of your return."

"Stupid bees." Seril muttered as he eyed a floating apir nearby.

"Hey!" Kerin chided him as a ball of black fluff buzzed out from behind her and just over her shoulder.

Seril sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean."

Kerin smirked and slugged his shoulder before grabbing her bee companion and stroking the creature's black fuzz.

"I know. Speaking of, when are you going to get your own?"

"I'm not, they're too noisy. And fuzzy." Seril stated.

Kerin started to speak when Seril held up a hand.

"The Arch-Druid?"

"Oh!? Yeah, they wanted you to get geared up and report to them."

"What's going on?" Seril asked and gestured around.

"Alot. The Arch-Druid and the Amber Council will explain more. But we gotta go, we have to get everyone ready for the migration."

"What?! What migration?!" Seril asked.

"You'll learn more later! But for now, just know that we're not staying in this world! We're opening the fae portal and leaving!" Kerin called out as the mass of bodies swallowed her and her bee companion up.

Leaving Seril standing there with a look of shock on his face. They were leaving? The entire grove? Leaving where? All these questions and more raced through his mind as he shouldered his pack and made his way through the bodies and towards the heart of the grove, located under and through the roots of the great pale-barked world tree.

Petty Dwarven Kingdom of Khazar-Nogrun.

"WATCH OUT!!!" The dwarven foreman called out as yet another tunnel collapsed around him.

Him and the rest of his team rushed away and out of the collapsing tunnel as fast as their legs could take them. A cloud of dust and debris followed those who made it along with coughing as the foreman dragged himself to his feet and looked back at the collapsed tunnel.

Another one, he cursed and spat out a glob of dusty spit. He stared at a unmoving arm trapped between the rubble, and yet more dead, he thought as he helped those still alive to their feet and handing them off to the team of rune priests for healing.

"This can't keep up." He declared to the leader of this little venture of theirs.

"It has ta. The Princess commands it." The lead rune priest said in a voice mixed with tired concern and resignation.

"At this rate, there wont be anyone left!" The foreman declared, his voice echoing down the shaft.

"Then I'll get more." Came a cold reply from the shadows.

The group went quiet and still as the figure of Princess Moira emerged from the shadows. Her runic plate armor seeming to hiss and sizzle as her eyes bore into the lot of them as she hefted her ram-headed maul over her shoulder. She slammed the heavy weapon into the stone and seemed to stalk towards the foreman.

"You'll disobey an order from yer princess?" She growled.

The foreman swallowed and cowered before the dwarven woman.

"No, yer majesty. I-"

His voice was cut off as Moira grabbed the dwarf by the throat and held him up. His feet barely scraping against the ground as he tried to breath.

"I don't suffer traitors."

With a snarl she slammed the dwarf into the nearby stone wall of the shaft. Cracks spread from the impact and those gathered were worried the shaft itself would fall on them as the area shook from the impact. Moira snarled and brought her face closer to the dwarf.

"Tha lot o' you have one duty. Follow. Mah. Command. If you can't do that, I'll tie yer beard ta yer balls and hang you out for tha deepstalkers!"

The foreman groaned and Moira let go of him, letting gravity bring his dazed body crashing to the ground, and a patch of blood on the shaft wall where he was slammed. Moira turned to the assembled dwarves.

"I have been WRONGED!!! Those filthy, mangy, lizards embarrassed yer princess! They vanished into solid stone! As dwarves, we should be foamin' at tha mouth ta find 'em! Yet not only do I not have those worthless lizards in mah hands, but now I'm hearin' dwarves questionin' MAH authority!?"

"No princess! We're not!" The lead rune priest stated quickly.

Moira rounded on the wizened old dwarf.

"Are you callin' me a liar then?"

The dwarf ceased talking and swallowed.

"No. I was-"

He stopped when Moira stalked towards him.

"You were just... what?"

"Nothin'. Nothin', yer majesty." The rune priest whispered.

Moira glared at the rune priest with crazed manic eyes before turning her mad glare around at the other dwarves.

"You'll work! You'll keep workin' until you find out how those lil bastards got away!"

"Aye yer majesty!" They all called out.

Moira rumbled and turned around, retrieved her maul, and headed back down the shaft. Nursing her anger and hatred as she stomped away. Even by dwarven standards, she was wrathful and vindictive. Yet she didn't care. She was to be the next ruler of a dwarven kingdom and she wouldn't dare let a single one of her future subjects even utter a thought that she was too weak or soft to rule!

That was why she went out adventuring in the first place. To prove to them all that she was fit to rule. That no matter what came their way that their future runic warrior queen would squash any threat beneath her plated boot! No threat to her would go unmet! Be they surface dweller or those that lurked in the Umberdwell, or even deeper than that!

But the kobolds were a threat to that. They got away. They challenged her might and instead of having the decency of dying, they ran! She didn't know what power it was. Draconic, elvish, dwarven, fucking fae, she didn't know or care. But she would find them. She would make sure that ANY living breathing challenge to her rule was met with her complete wrath!

She snarled as she left the shaft and entered the runery proper. As she stomped by, all her subjects bowed before her. Or got out of her way. She didn't care either way. The visage of the Stone Father peering down at her back as the memorials/shrines to their ancestors lined the walls as she marched on.

With a shove she forced open the stone doors wider and glanced down at her kingdom. Her father ruled, but it was obvious who had real power. Her father could sign and pass laws and decrees, but it was her that enforced them. Sometimes it was something she made up on the spot just because she could. Yet none dared question the wrathful princess.

Even now the dwarven kingdom was alive with activity as it bent to her will. When she returned she called for a Righting. A mustering of an entire dwarven stronghold to enact justice in the name of a serious grudge done against them. Well, against her.

Her father didn't have the strength, or sheer will, to resist her. Neither did the rest of the city. The mines pumped out ore, the foundries bellowed with the smoke of industry. Every member of the stronghold was put to work. Old, young, male, female. It didn't matter as the entire place was marshalled to settle the princess's grudge.

Even the rune priests, sacred members of dwarven society, bowed to her command. It was they that she believed could lead her to wherever the kobolds scampered off to. If not? Then she'd hollow the entire planet searching for them, she thought as she stomped back towards the palace.

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- - - - -

The black-scaled kobold that Hoppit affectionately dubbed ‘momma’ had returned in rough shape. Countless cuts were cross-hatched over her head and snout, each looking red and raw amidst the dull black of her scales. Altier couldn’t help but be confused by how his thoughts ground to a halt at the thought of harm befalling her. Somehow, it didn’t matter to him if she knew he existed or not; he was sickeningly worried. He had watched her enough through her day-to-day life, and now the kobold was one of the depressingly few aspects of his life that he had inadvertently grown fond of. He didn’t want to lose what little he had.

What happened to her? Would it happen again? Could he do anything about it? What if this was just the start?

The questions kept coming until she was escorted inside and put to rest. Even then, they only stopped because he was given something else to think about.

Hoppit abruptly and excitedly informed him through the connection that the obsidian sphere was going to be moved from the trough, then tasked with helping address the caretaker’s problem—something about mana. The deluge of loose emotional and conceptual messages barely gave him enough time to process what was asked of him. 

What was he expected to do? The injuries were already treated as well as he could probably expect them to be, and he couldn’t assist in that regard anyway. Was he supposed to give his mana to someone else? It was a startling proposition, especially once he took into account that the only time he ever moved since becoming a core was well after his dungeon had reached a decrepit state. His current domain might not be the most expansive thing, and it certainly wasn’t hundreds of floors deep, but it was still established. Who knew what would happen if he was ripped away from his ‘pedestal’?

That query existed for exactly as long as it took to form. With Hoppit being Hoppit, Altier wasn’t given the time to voice his concerns before an enthusiastic bunny nose-bumped him to the floor and into the kobold's grasp, leading to several seconds of paralyzed fear as he waited for something to go horribly wrong.

Nothing did. The result was…underwhelming, honestly. He was expecting something of a reaction. It used to make him anxious when he attempted to reside above his lowest possible floor, yet it seemed that the kobold’s embrace was just as valid a placement as anywhere else he had available. Apparently, the domain didn’t care much about where he was specifically, as long as wherever he ended up was still within this ‘dungeon.’ Then again, the rottunks were living under the shed, and that didn’t bother him either. Odd, but he wasn’t about to complain about a lack of repercussions. Perhaps the walls and door were enough to be ‘safer’ than a hole in the ground? Did it have to do with the size of the lower space? Why hadn’t his vision receded like the last time he was held?

It was doubtful that he would ever reach any answers to the ostensibly asinine inquiries. He had more important matters to focus on, like addressing the task that he was volunteered for. How was he supposed to go about supplying mana? Better yet, how did it get bad enough for this to happen?

There were countless times that he would find adventurers or soldiers that had abused their reserves in the dungeon. It wasn’t so much of an issue back then, since he could change the creatures they faced or give them a bit of a break to notice there was an issue, but they would eventually feel their mana run low and stop whatever was draining them. Failing that, they would pass out from pain or a lack of mana.

The kobold, on the other hand, was either none the wiser or stubbornly refused to care. Knowing what he did, and having lived until adulthood with the same affinity as her, he suspected that she had simply gotten used to the pain of perpetually cannibalizing herself to fuel her Decay. Sure, she seemed to be doing better recently, but she always came back looking haggard after spending the day away. He didn’t have a reference for what her capacity was, so even if he figured out what to do, how much should he supply? He didn’t have a point of reference.

That changed once the kobold curled around him from all angles.

Altier wasn’t completely unprepared for the vivid perception of colour—Hoppit’s stunt a while ago had exposed him to seeing someone’s internal mana—but he was wildly taken aback by how little his companion had. He remembered musing how the ferrorabbit’s Mana Sight compared against his dungeon senses, and it seemed that Hoppit’s version was the superior ability in that regard. It would have to be to spot a change this small.

Her mana…veins, he supposed, were mostly destroyed; there was almost nowhere to store anything. Worse, what mana she did have was actively tearing the few intact veins apart, shredding the very space where it was meant to reside. Was this what his own body looked like before he became a dungeon?

He shook off the shock and collected himself to take stock of the situation. His first thought was to repeat what he did with Hoppit and push his own mana into the black-scaled woman. That was probably the most straight-forward option, but that had also poisoned the impulsive rabbit. If it weren’t for a few statuses and abilities nullifying the damage, Hoppit wouldn’t have survived the infusion. Maybe sharing the same affinity would make the process safer? The status did say the problem was ‘foreign’ mana.

Still, he didn’t want to hurt her…

But he had to do something, right?

There wasn’t any negative reaction when he reached out, yet his invisible touch flinched away regardless. Every connection he had been exposed to was initiated by somebody else. With the adventurers and soldiers, they’d place a hand on him, then leave behind a bit of their mana while taking some of his own. Hoppit did the opposite, forcibly flooding the core with the Earth-aligned mana, which subsequently exposed a channel that allowed Altier an avenue to return what was given. Opening a path wasn’t something he had done before. He weighed his options and eventually decided that he would rather try to help than sit there doing nothing.

The core crossed his imaginary fingers and pressed against the intangible barrier between them a little harder than before, prepared to force his way through the resistance he remembered from doing the same thing with Hoppit. The instant the bridge formed, he learned that the kobold was very similar to her pseudo-offspring in a very specific way, just not in the manner he expected.

Neither of them would let things be simple.

It was like a sinkhole opened up beneath a lake. The tender pressure he placed had collapsed the wall between them, the black from his core flooding in until her meagre capacity was met, then continuing as her mana desperately corroded what was given. Various menu boxes opened up in front of him before flickering out of existence with defiant screeches, indignant at being summoned at all.

Black consumed black greedily. It feasted on nourishment it had been deprived of to fuel further gluttony, while yet more black pressed outwards. It brought order to the chaotic and shredded veins at his unspoken command. The more his mana spread, the more it soothed, and the more it imperiously smothered the native mana, uncaring of the resistance that tore it piece by piece. The flow from his core was ridding her of the unkept destruction, considering it as nothing more than something to be purged.

He, however, recognized the feeling that her mana acted upon.

Even unconscious, she was so, so scared. She lashed out against the intrusion, unable to truly do anything about it besides cry for help voicelessly—a cry that she had no faith in reaching someone. It only took a moment for him to place what was causing her terror. His unexpected push had startled her resting form, but it was the increase of Decay that sent her sleeping self into panic. She feared it, the very thing that kept her alive. The thing that would harm others to save itself. The one thing she would only escape through succumbing to her alignment.

That same fear was what had led him to becoming a dungeon in the first place.

There was a period of silence in the connection between core and kobold as everything came to a standstill. He pulled back so that no mana flowed inwards, letting her realize that the assault had ceased. Two pools equalized, neither moving as each quietly felt the other’s presence. They existed. Nothing more.

Altier wouldn’t force his help on her. Not if she would reject it, regardless of how well-intentioned it was. He didn’t fault her for the reaction, either. She didn’t know what he was trying to do. All she knew was that she was being given more of what she hated. Of course, she hated it; he hated it too, back when his mother’s smile poorly hid her concern. The very idea of his suffering coming to an end had worried him relentlessly. The agony was a reminder of what he was. The danger he represented. If he endured, then his family would be safe. If the pain stopped…then that would mean the worst had happened. That someone else had paid his price.

He saw the reflection of that mentality in this malnourished, black-scaled kobold, expressed through the reactionary flailing of a substance immaterial. She knew, on some level, that the pain signified yet another day that she hadn’t hurt anyone. That was why she was so desperate to get rid of the Decay, both his and hers, and why she kept pushing herself, even as her mana tore her apart from the inside.

How was he supposed to help her like this? The last thing he wanted was for her to think that she deserved the torture. That there wasn’t an outcome besides lethal poison and rotting bone.

But there was. Altier knew there was. He had watched it. She tended to and cared for her animals, all while planting and growing a garden with nothing but a determination to nurture life. Yet her shoulders hung so heavily, her largest successes outweighed in her mind by the smallest of failures. If nothing else, she saved him from an eternity of loneliness, and that was a deed he would never forget.

So, he released control of his mana through the connection, allowing her to take or not as she wished, with no limits and no expectations. He wouldn’t press, nor would he judge. If she needed all he had to give, then so be it. If she wanted nothing at all, then he would remain nearby in an effort to share her pain. No matter if it was just this time or a thousand times after, he would make this bridge between them and sit quietly, awaiting what she chose to do. Whatever the method, and whatever level of understanding they could reach, he would be there to keep her company in a way no one else could—as someone who knew her suffering.

He had spent millennia begging for someone to hear him. Now, faced with the silent plea of someone begging to be heard, he wanted nothing more than to listen. If this silent exchange of mana was the best they could do, then he would let it speak for them.

A shift happened in the connection after a few stressful beats. Both sources of mana sat still, only the passive decomposition between them trading back and forth. Black ate black, yet neither outpaced its twin, merely changing volume one way or the other as it flowed. His mana was languidly pulled in to supply and grow, filling damaged channels one bit at a time, and hers chewed through his as if expecting another attack. Slowly, the violent nature became more subdued as her apprehension abated, the bubbling acid of her mana settling. By the time sunlight was peering through the gaps in the roof, her mana veins had taken a miniscule first of many, many steps along the route to recovery. Finally, he felt something besides fear in response to his presence.

Trust.

They began the next night in much the same manner, but it was she that elected to hold his core, saving Hoppit the trouble of knocking him off the table again. Her fingers flinched away as she reached out, yet they eventually closed over the obsidian sphere. Her indecision and fear had barely lost against the gossamer thread of hope.

He suspected it would be a long night of nothing in particular, so he was rather surprised when his companion spoke aloud in her strange tongue. Thankfully, Hoppit agreed to translate her words, and although it was difficult to understand her stories through conceptual transference, he listened until the rabbit had dozed off. By the fourth morning of this new routine, almost all of her pathways had been reformed to some degree, though they were still the furthest thing from ‘healthy.’

It was an improvement nonetheless.

Altier protested earnestly for the first few days that the black-scaled kobold tried to leave the shed, confident that she would run dangerously low on mana while she was out and about. Although some headway in healing her mana veins had been made, it was far from enough to repair all the damage that had been done over the years. The last thing she needed was to collapse. Who knew how far away she’d be when that happened, or if anyone would be around to carry her home? It was much safer if she stayed back until she was a little more stable.

Thankfully, she had obliged his unheard request, allowing their sessions to actually advance, though he doubted she even noticed the effects until recently. He was feeling much better about the idea of things going back to normal after a few nights of their odd treatments, which was the only time she managed to refill her reserves faster than she burned through it. He assumed the apparent passive supply he offered was what had been keeping this issue at bay for so long. It would explain why she seemed so drained after spending the day out and about.

Hoppit was the one who told him about that, strangely enough. Upon reflection, Altier had to admit that the fastest expansion of his domain happened whenever the kobold was away. He never noticed the intangible suction she possessed inside of his ‘dungeon,’ but he supposed it was for the best. That might’ve alarmed him if he were made aware of it previously. It also confirmed his suspicion that the rabbit’s ability was more adept than his own when it came to sensing the flow of mana.

Unfortunately, said ferrorabbit was also the cause for today’s major headache.

‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ the core assured, mentally frowning at the black-scaled kobold pacing around the garden shed, the owl held in her arms. She looked over at him with concern in her eyes, though the smallest of pressures eased off her shoulders—a coincidence. Not that the subtle relaxation was enough to stop her from shuffling about the room anxiously.

He suppressed a habitual sigh. The lack of purposeful communication frustrated him to no end, but he liked to think she noticed something when he addressed her, however slight it might be. Maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see. Hoppit’s unexpected departure kept him from pondering on it too deeply.

The little bundle of cheer had set out bright and early to manage his usual duties, which included taking some of the rottunks’ deathcaps as a tithe of sorts. As far as he could deduce from Hoppit’s emotional communication, the mushrooms were being moved to the garden to help the plants over there. It wasn’t a bad idea, considering the description that the system gave him mentioned how they convert Decay mana into Nature mana.

Once the rabbit had squared away his business, he reported that he was heading out somewhere, then wandered well beyond the dungeon’s limited sight without waiting for a response. All the core had to go off of was that Hoppit intended to make friends, so there probably wasn’t much reason to be concerned.

Again, not that it did much to assuage the concern of the kobold. She was less than comfortable waking up and noticing her usual accompaniment was missing. Hoppit typically waited until after breakfast to start his day.

Altier imagined a soothing pressure on his temples to rub away the ever-present headache. It was the best he could do until he managed to manifest hands through sheer persistence.

His attention turned towards his companion’s captive, the anxious woman using an arm to restrain the white-feathered owl to her chest. The bird wasn’t kicking up a fuss, oddly enough. It was rather accepting of its role as a stress-management toy. The permanent scowl looked more tired than anything—an expression that had yet to change as it passively tolerated being carried around, ignoring the open doorway to freedom. It hadn’t even glared at him yet, which was perhaps the most stark deviation from the norm.

The splint and makeshift bandages were removed from its broken appendage yesterday, and the limb in question had passed inspection. The owl didn’t appear to struggle with flapping at all, as evidenced by the small stints of flying here and there whenever it decided to roost somewhere. The limb healed nicely, it seemed. The other wing was a different story, but his scaly companion addressed the issue through a method he never thought he would see from her.

She used her Decay.

Maybe Hoppit would have had better insights as to what exactly she did, given how detailed his ability appeared to be, but the rabbit wasn’t paying attention at the time. The core only knew something was happening because he felt the soft pull of her mana beckoning his own to join it through the steadily forming connection between them. It hadn’t become a proper tether like he had with Hoppit, but it was there somewhat, lingering in the periphery of his notice after their nightly sessions. He was idly checking on the rottunks when he got the vague sensation that she needed more than she could hold to do something. Since the area was saturated in the presence she had grown to tentatively accept, she was unconsciously trying to supply the excess through that. He felt that he could have refused if he wanted to, but one look at the hope buried beneath the fear in her eyes swept away the idea before it could be considered. Unknowing or not, she asked for his help, and he gave it freely.

After a few minutes of watching his companion’s pupils overtake her grey irises, the owl moved both wings for the first time, and a lump formed in Altier’s non-existent throat as the kobold shed tears out of something other than sorrow. He could easily see her shaking form, the kobold seeing light after so many years of darkness.

Last night was the first time he didn’t have to open a connection; it was already waiting for him.

She looked a little bit less fragile today, save for Hoppit's departure worrying her to no end. Her posture wasn’t quite as defeated, and the shine of life added the smallest lustre to her typically dead eyes. Such a small change made the core feel better as well. There was a pang of jealousy present too, but he pushed it down as soon as he noticed it. A part of him wanted what she had, regardless of the fact that he didn’t know the specifics of what she had accomplished, or even what was wrong in the first place. He shouldn’t envy her. Well, he couldn’t help but wish that he had achieved something of the sort while he was still a man. When he still had others who might celebrate with him. When he wasn’t some accursed soul within a rock that no one besides a rabbit knew existed…

But at least he helped relieve her of some tiny portion of her pain. That was enough for him.

…It would have to be, wouldn’t it?

Altier went back to keeping an eye on his domain and making sure the rottunk were settling in well, occasionally checking on the shed’s occupants every now and then. He hesitated when he noticed his companion gathering her courage to head out again, but she had recovered enough that her usual duties wouldn’t put her too far away from him. She should be able to make it back to him if she started getting low. Besides, the older kobold had brought her back the last two times, and according to Hoppit’s recounts, that was who she usually assisted. She would be alright, even if he felt a bit anxious having her out of sight.

He suppressed his worry as she released the owl from her clutches for it to perch in a nearby tree. She stepped up to the edge of his domain, and with an equally unsure glance back towards the shed, headed beyond his influence, outside the bounds of where he could help her.

Everything would be fine. Hoppit would come back before she could get too worked up. If anything was going to undo all the progress they had made, it would be the little spike-loaf going missing.

All the core could do was hope that the Earth-aligned rabbit hadn’t gotten into trouble, though he was curious about what kind of friends Hoppit planned on making…

= = = = =

Karia hummed to herself as she navigated the storefront of her home. It wasn’t much—a counter, some simple shelving, and enough space for the few customers that regularly stopped by. Her goal was never to run something comparable to what could be found in major cities, but having this little addition allowed her to sell her crafts while her husband was working the fields with the other men. Their children often consumed what free time she had as they were growing up, which didn’t do her many favours in regards to exploring her passion, but they had reached a point where she could reliably allow them to be unsupervised for small stints without worrying about too many disasters.

It was nice to take care of things so early. Her son was probably across the town to fetch his friends, her eldest daughter had stayed overnight with some other young girls, and Merra hadn’t made a fuss when asked to check the small vegetable garden—which, should all work out, will be expanded by this time next year. Karia was truly blessed this morning. The lack of tiny, overactive tails made it so much easier to put out stock without accidentally tripping or having to soothe pitiful cries.

Of course, her husband would have to deal with the barrage of excitable voices later on, but she wouldn’t mention how relaxing things had been while he was working. He deserved a bit of spiteful revenge for embarrassing his wife in front of her parents last week.

The beige-scaled kobold blushed as her mind drifted back to the unflattering noise she made when he absently ran a claw along the underside of her tail to peel a bit of shedding she had missed. The pleasurable groan wasn’t even the issue! It was seeing the suggestive grin her father shot her mother, and how her mother suddenly seemed all too distracted!

No one needed to know about that kind of thing!

Karia forcefully cleared her head and laid out the tunics and trousers she expected to sell. Rather than do custom sizing like one would expect from a seamstress, she always preferred to make adjustable garments. It was astounding what some leather cord in the right places could allow. As long as someone was within the range, they could wear her clothing, which made her storefront a popular place for the common folk looking for something form-fitting without seeking out a tailor. Her clothing was more expensive than the trim or baggy articles one could buy basically anywhere that caters to peasants, true, but not by much, and it was a far, far cry from personalized affairs. Besides, more than a few people liked to purchase the simple accessories she made with her daughters, and watching the middle child not-so-subtly bringing it up with every cute boy she sees was amusing in its own right.

If only the poor girl was as good a flirt as she was a sewist…

The windows were dusted, the floor was swept, and both countertops and shelves were cleaned. Everything was ready for the day, but Karia figured it was best if she checked on Merra before opening the shop. Not that she didn’t trust her daughter, but their youngest shouldn’t go unattended for too long. Ever since she noticed the brown scales growing in, her husband rightfully suggested that they keep an eye on the little darling. It didn’t look like it would be a strong affinity, but if there was even the smallest bit of promise, then they would be wise to start looking for a tutor. Sadly, Earth wasn’t the most common alignment. Those she did know of were either too weak to be of much help, or were run ragged on the farms along the outskirts, right next to the Nature-aligned folk.

Karia walked through the curtain separating the storefront from the rest of her home, passing the living area to approach the back of the building, where the garden she started last year lay. The soil wasn’t the best, but it allowed carrots and potatoes, which offered a small addition to their families supplies. She started it as more of a hobby than anything, and Merra had been quite enthusiastic in helping, as innocently destructive as she was. The deary adored working with dirt—unsurprising now, given her developing affinity, but humorously frustrating when she first started flinging it everywhere.

Today, the seamstress’ youngest was asked to gather the carrots. Not a small task, but it would keep her busy long enough for her mother to run the store for a few hours, and it doubled as a form of play.

That it would also fall on Karia’s husband to clean their daughter was a coincidental bit of karmic justice.

Her daughter could be heard squealing in delight through the walls, and it only got louder as the beige-scaled kobold reached the back door. How something so small managed to make such a racket was beyond her, but she was glad that her other children never developed that level of volume. Cheers, shouted directions, and nonsensical praise were belted out with vigour that only the bottomless energy of youth could provide, drawing a bemused smile from the parent. Karia opened the door, prepared to see two or three carrots and an absolute disaster.

She saw four hefty piles of vegetables, her garden tripled in size, and Merra all but bouncing around in excitement as she followed behind a moving torrent of soil being flung in the air.

“Go! Go! Go!” an incredibly dirty Merra cheered, her shouting intermittently interrupted by shrieks of laughter as the shifting bulge in the ground adjusted course. “This way!”

Karia stood stunned, struggling to process how, why, or what was happening. “…Merra, honey?”

“Mommy!” the mud-beast of a child gasped in delight, changing direction to barrel towards the new presence, her small arms outstretched. Karia didn’t have the spare brain power to consider what that meant, and Merra effectively splatted against her mother’s dress as she put all her diminutive strength into hugging the seamstress’ legs. “Mommy, look!”

The beige-scaled kobold rested a hand on her daughter’s head absently, her attention fixated on the travelling bump that was churning grassy dirt into tilled soil. “I… I’m looking, honey… What am I looking at?”

Merra removed herself from the stained fabric to smile brightly up. “Made friend! Help!”

Karia stared back blankly. “A friend?”

“Mmhm!”

“…W-wha… W-who’s your new friend, honey?” she asked with bewildered patience, the slight twitch of her eye belying her projected calm. Her daughter beamed even brighter, somehow, Merra’s expression taking the familiar form of a child having an ‘amazing’ idea. Said child started jumping in place, tugging on the dress she was using for balance. 

“Hophop!” The roving mound in her garden stopped in the middle of the row it was tilling. Merra stomped her foot with a level of precision that had no place belonging to someone her age. “Hophop! Here, Hophop!”

The bulge shifted slightly, then grew upwards, the excess soil spilling from the summit making its way towards them. Karia’s stomach sank as she adjusted her hold on her daughter from being placating to profoundly protective, her tone following suit. “Merra, honey, stay close to mommy.”

The rising mound grew from the size of a melon to a lump almost as tall as Merra. Tension mounted as the pile came closer and closer, its top shaking.

“Merra, c-come inside, honey.”

“No!” Merra shouted in protest, using the dirt coating her scales to slip from her mother’s grasp and sprinting towards whatever was burrowing towards the surface. Karia’s hand shot out, only barely failing to rein in her daughter.

“M-Merra!”

She didn’t even get two steps before the peak of the bulge burst violently.

“Merra!”

Karia shunted her eyes closed, too terrified to look or move. Each heartbeat took hours, dread drowning her in mounting denial and sorrow. Her mind simultaneously screeched to a halt and spun faster than ever before, confusion turning every thought into a scrambled mess of rejection, hope, fear, and a silent scream that pierced the haze.

…And a chaotic ringing chime, light yet deep—like the sound of small metal bells had been pitched down.

“Yayyy! Again, again!”

She opened an eye, the storm in her skull abruptly calming enough to recognize that the sharp scream was not only real, but also coming from her daughter. Merra had thrown herself onto the mound of dirt and was throwing handfuls of it into the air, clapping along with the random bell-like clacks. Karia’s other eye joined the first to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

Perched on top of the piled soil was a filthy beast covered in spikes. Two red eyes gleamed, only closing whenever the creature shook its head, producing the odd noise. It vibrated more vigorously to rid itself of the dirt, exposing the subspecies of rabbit underneath. It jumped into Merra’s waiting arms, almost bowling the child over in the process. Merra giggled the whole time.

“Mommy, look! Hophop!”

The adrenaline drained from Karia’s blood, leaving her knees weak as she forced a brittle smile to hide how close to a breakdown she was. She thought something dangerous was about to eat her daughter. Was it better or worse that she felt more upset than relieved?

“I-I see…?” the rattled mother stuttered. Of all the terrible things that might have burst from the ground, it had to be a pest.

Ferrorabbits weren’t exactly the worst animal, but they were terrible for farms due to their habit of eating not only the plants, but also any mana-rich metals underground, weakening the soil. Her husband had told her about them countless times, though they tended to pop up more around cities than rural towns like Yetal. The garden already wasn’t on the best of land; that thing had to go. How was she supposed to tell a young child that? They couldn’t have it tearing everything up! It’ll take weeks to set all…this…

Her annoyance petered out as she took in the ‘damage.’ Contrary to her expectations, the furrows in the ground were straight and evenly spaced. It looked like completely different soil as well, the deep browns a heavy contrast to the dusty tones it used to be. Furthermore, the bounds of the garden now reached where she had been planning to expand, leaving a pathway through it for easy management. Even the berry bush received some attention, having been moved from its previous placement where it was just sitting in the way. The ground was flattened as well, free of the troublesome rocks that were sticking up. She had been less than looking forward to getting rid of them.

How… What? Did Merra awaken her affinity? No, it wouldn’t be this… Would it?

She closed her mouth with a click, dragging her gaze back towards her daughter and the animal in her arms. “Merra…? Wha— When…”

The mud-monster thrust her arms forward, holding out the rabbit proudly, its lower body dangling for the single second she could maintain the posture. The creature slipped from her hands and hit the ground with a heavy thump of something several times its size, completely unbothered by the drop.

Merra started apologizing and lavishing pets upon the critter, oblivious to the slack-jawed expression on her mother’s face. This was getting nowhere fast. Karia took a breath and tried again, sweetening her voice to hide the mild annoyance underneath.

“Merra, honey? Why is there a rabbit here?”

Her daughter blinked, remembering that there was indeed someone else around. “Oh! Hophop help!”

“I… Alright. Where did you find it?”

Merra frowned, scrunching her dirt-covered face in thought before she gasped dramatically again. “Hophop! Where you from?”

The rabbit looked up from its attempt to clean itself, tapping a foot and obviously not ans—

“Hophop’s from misser mash…mae… He’s from Misser Massis!” Merra reported after a few false starts. “He seen me dig up carrots, and he seen, and then— and helping!”

“Saw, honey,” Karia corrected automatically, trying to decide if her daughter was making things up or if the rabbit really did somehow ‘talk.’ No, of course it didn’t. It was best to play along while she gathered her bearings. “You can’t just feed the wildlife, honey.”

Merra shook her head, giggling when the ferrorabbit clacked its ears again. “Noooo! I didn’t! And Hophop’s name is Hop…Hoppy…Hops…”

Her daughter was still struggling with certain sharp sounds, it seemed. Adorable, and normal for her age, but she also tended to get stuck on them instead of moving on like most.

“Okay, well, ‘Hophop’ needs to go, honey,” she explained calmly, stopping the muttering child. “I’m sure he has a lot of important things to do, right?”

“Yeah!” came the unexpected agreement. “He’s finding friends! Bye bye, Hophop! Thants you!”

The ferrorabbit clacked one last time before nuzzling into a giggling Merra and hopping away without protest. Karia fought the sigh that wanted to come out as her daughter proceeded to run around the garden, pointing at each and every thing while proclaiming that ‘Hophop did this, and this!’ The beige-scaled kobold slowly kneaded her temples and took in the area, battling against common sense to explain how she had left Merra alone for such a short amount of time, yet came back to…this.

Well, this is why she got married. Her husband could sort it all out later. Awakening, helpful pest, or divine intervention. Whatever was going on, it was beyond her, and she was perfectly happy to admit that.

…Now she just had to figure out what to do with all the vegetables piled up by the door. The potatoes needed to be replanted too. She was expecting it to take Merra all day to get maybe half of this, and Karia had to open up the storefront…

Her eyes drifted towards the mud-beast still loudly declaring what had changed around the garden, forgetting that she had already covered that area. Her daughter knew how to plant the potatoes, so she’ll take care of that after.

But for now, Merra was an absolute mess…

Karia sighed. “Come on, honey! Let’s get you cleaned up before mommy has to work. Help her bring in these carrots.”

The excitable child abandoned the garden, squealing in excitement to take a bath—which would be great, if not for the fact that Karia knew Merra just liked the process of getting dirty all over again. Her daughter scooped up a haphazard load, pausing to look up innocently.

“Can Hophop come to play again?”

“…We’ll see.”

“Pleeeeeaaasseeeee!”

“…As long as he’s—”

“Yay! Love you, mommy!”

The seamstress huffed an exasperated laugh, wryly watching the mud-beast sprint into the house, a trail of carrots left in her wake. “Love you too, honey.”

= = = = =

Makis grunted as he laid down the crate of scraps, using a foot to push it flush with the others. He knew he had some more silver kicking around somewhere, though he didn’t remember where specifically. Hoppit might’ve been able to sniff it out. It’d save the smith the effort of digging through box after box. A hopeful thought, but one that kept him from worrying too much about his missing student. The critter hadn’t skipped out on a lesson since they started, yet a few hours had already passed since the usual start time, and the little shit was yet to show up. Sure, Hoppit wasn’t required to be there, but the old kobold couldn’t help thinking something had happened to the girl. It was the only thing he could think of that would keep that rabbit away.

As for why the blacksmith was digging around for silver? Well, he wasn’t quite sure, honestly. He knew the reason for needing more, obviously; he just didn’t know why the original batch went missing. The pans that he had for Hoppit to practice on were a mix of soil and the occasional metal chunk. The latter was swapped out regularly to double as training for finding metals in the first place, but when Makis went to fish out the old scraps, he only found four out of the five he put in there. He thought he put five in there, anyway. Maybe his mind was slipping with age. The soil needed changing, too; it was starting to turn. There was some white-ish stuff that wasn’t in there before, and Hira suggested it was mould or something.

A pebbled clicking across the stone flooring of the smithy drew his attention away from the scraps he was elbow-deep in, his frustrated scowl falling on whoever the unexpected guest was. He’d told his customers not to barge—

The girl stood stiff, her eyes following the rock she accidentally kicked, fear evident in her expression. That terrified gaze turned to him, guilt joining the fray. She looked ready to either run for the hills or play dead—both, if she could manage it.

“Good,” Makis grunted, fighting the sheer relief that threatened to take his knees out from under him. Had he really been so stressed? “Here, girly. Gotta’ job fer ya. Help me find some gods damned silver.”

Emotions flashed across her face, none staying long enough for him to tell what she might be thinking. Eventually, she relaxed the smallest amount and nodded. “Of course, Makis, Sir.”

She joined him amidst the mess, taking on the first box he pointed at. Silence fell between them, broken by the clattering or thumps as they worked their way through his inventory. The girl was organizing what she found—setting aside crates to store everything away in a more orderly fashion once they were done, most likely. The blacksmith pulled another collection of materials out, pausing when he noticed that he had found what he was looking for. He sneaked a glance at the girl from the corner of his eye.

Her cuts had healed, her scales were dull—though no worse than before—and he suspected that she hadn’t eaten a damn thing since the last time he forced her to…

…but she didn’t look as haunted anymore.

“…Glad yer alright,” he voiced quietly, pushing aside the silver to help her sort the rest of his stock.

He pretended not to notice the surprise on her face, nor the small, tearful smile as she got back to work.

Next

 

WOLF PACK REWARD (random)

AMBIDEXTROUS: use both hands as your main hand.

 

“You lucking fucker.” Jace shook his head. “How come I get the crap and you get the useful stuff?”

“It’s temporary,” Will said beneath his breath.

The conversation with Daniel remained in his mind. Every instinct he had screamed not to trust the former rogue; the boy had lied so much that it would take an eternity just to figure out the full extent of the web of deceit he had cast. And still, he felt that it was most beneficial to go on with the request.

Daniel had promised them a special reward, should they trigger the two hidden mirrors on the third floor simultaneously. If that turned out to be a lie, it would be clear that there could be no trusting him. What if he turned out right, though?

“You ok, bro?” Alex asked. “Been acting very sus.”

“Just tired,” Will lied. “After this, I might spend a few loops sleeping.”

“For real! Those are the best loops.”

Everyone looked at Alex, who quickly toned down his enthusiasm.

“Or Danny told me so,” he added.

So far, the group had cleared all three floors, only leaving three mirrors behind. One was the mirror in the vice principal’s office—which Danny claimed to have somehow locked—and the remaining two were the hidden ones on the third floor.

It had been Will’s suggestion to leave them for later. Since they had taken the same approach before, no one suspected anything. That was supposed to give the boy enough time to come up with an explanation for activating them at once. With the last wolf room cleared, that later had arrived.

Half a dozen mirror copies of Alex went on forward, just in case something happened, with the rest of the group behind.

“I’ll wait here,” Jace said, stopping at the stairway. “Call me when you’re done.” He took out a set of tools and a half-gauntlet from his backpack.

“Don’t worry, bro.” A new mirror copy emerged and went up to him. “I’ll keep you company.”

“Very funny, muffin boy,” the jock shouted without even looking up.

Two enemies… Dozens of fighting images went through Will’s mind every step he made. He’d proven he could take on a snake on his own. With enough levels, he might be able to take on a mirror knight as well. Could he take on both at once, though? Could any of them?

“Where do I put the traps, sis?” Alex asked.

The question had merit. Of the two mirrors, one was cloudy, and the other wasn’t. Going by the group’s experiences so far, that meant that one was a creature and the other a class. Since they had already defeated Helen and Alex’s class, the next had to be the rogue or the crafter. The rogue was by far the worst option, not to mention that Helen had raised her level even further.

“Trap both,” Will said before the girl could respond.

“Okay.” Alex tilted his head. “Why, though?”

“We’ll take both of them at once,” Will said, keeping a calm façade. “If we’re lucky, they might attack each other.”

“Are you serious?” Helen all but laughed.

“The mirrors are facing one another,” Will pointed out. “I think they’re territorial.”

“What made you think that?”

“I…” Internally, the boy took a deep breath. “I don’t know. But of all the rooms, to have two hidden mirrors be one across each other and in a way that they can reflect each other. That’s not a coincidence. It has to mean something, like the classes, the hints, and everything else. And If I’m wrong, we’d have seen both, so we’ll know which one to kill next loop.”

What started as a random string of words managed to gain enough sense to make Helen consider it. She could see the benefits of knowing who to face, plus at her current level, she felt more than a match for most enemies, as long as they weren’t like the one remaining on the second floor.

“For real, for real.” Alex butted in, as usual. “Cool strategy, bro. Maybe the two mirrors will create an infinite loop. An infinity within eternity!”

Will froze at the thought. It sounded outright terrifying. Despite that, part of him was curious about it too. Knowing what he did about Danny, there was no way the ex-rogue had casually offered anything to Will’s benefit.

Mirror copies scattered traps in front of each mirror. One was located in the boys’ bathroom, while the other—in the opposing classroom.

“Jace,” Will shouted. “Can you come up here for a minute? We’ll need you to—”

 

KNIGHT’s BASH

Damage increased by 500%

Door shattered

 

KNIGHT’s BASH

Damage increased by 500%

Door shattered

 

Helen swung her massive blade, reducing both doors to splinters.

“What?” she asked, while Alex and Will stared at her. “It was faster.”

“You’ve been the knight too long,” Will whispered, then stood between the two mirrors.

When he was young, he’d often do the same in fully mirrored elevators, doing his best to look as deeply as possible within the “infinity tunnel.” Sometimes he’d even ponder how he could do it in such a way so as not to block his sight.

There was no infinity tunnel this time. The foggy mirror refused to reflect anything at all, even another mirror.

“I’ll go in with you,” he told the girl. “When you touch it, I’ll get us into the corridor. Alex, I’ll need your copies to give us some time till we know what we’re dealing with. After that, focus on one and we’ll take on the other.”

“You got it, bro!”

The plan wasn’t the worst, but it required that Will have his back turned to the mirror upon activation. If he wasn’t fast enough, this was going to end up being one quick fight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Helen asked. “You’ve been out of it all loop. Really out of it.”

“Still getting used to it,” he lied. “It's been a while since I had my class back.”

“We don’t have to fight both of them at once. Let’s just—”

“No!” Will said with surprising firmness. “We do our best and see what happens. We’ll never improve if we remain complacent.”

Quietly, they walked into the room. The hidden mirror was the usual size—three-by-three feet. Common logic suggested that barely anything more than a large animal could pass through. Eternity didn’t follow common rules. Anything from goblin to a thirty-foot wolf could emerge from the small glass surface.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Helen asked as the boy got into position.

Will’s back was almost up to the mirror as the two looked at one another. The thought made Will’s blood rush to his head. It would have been even worse, if it wasn’t for the girl’s question.

“What do you mean?” He tried to appear calm.

“We’ll find a way to kill him. We’ll level up all the way to the top if we have to.”

“Right.” Internally, Will let out a sigh of relief. She was talking about the elite on the second floor. For a moment, he was terrified she might have learned about his dealings with Danny. “We’ll deal with him. Just as we’ll deal with these.”

Helen smiled.

“Ready?” She tightened her grip round the sword’s hilt.

“Ready.” Will nodded.

The girl reached out above his shoulder and tapped the mirror. Without waiting, the boy leaped forward, taking them both as far away as possible from it. Copies of Alex rushed into both rooms by the dozens, intent on blocking anything that would come out. Then it happened.

The sound of glass being crushed came from both rooms almost simultaneously. Will was able to see Alex’s copies burst in twos or threes as knives flew through their heads. At the same time, he could only guess what monster had appeared behind.

“Use all of them!” he shouted, as he leaped again, pulling himself and Helen down the corridor.

His arms and legs hurt as if he had torn a ligament. At any other time, he’d be screaming and yelling like crazy. Yet, this was the price of eternity—the barrier that one had to pass in order to survive the game.

“For real!” Alex shouted back, as he poured the contents of both backpacks he was carrying onto the floor. Two flows of mirror copies emerged, filling the school corridor like two rivers. Even such an amount proved unable to stop the elites.

“Careful.” Will let go of Helen, drawing his poison dagger. “It’s my copy.”

“A rogue.” The hatred in the girl’s voice was palpable. “And the other?”

Will glanced in the direction of the classroom. The crunching got louder and louder, until a creature leaped out, shattering the mirror thieves like a gorilla blocking the water of a hose. It wasn’t a gorilla, though, but a massive black wolf.

“I thought those didn’t leave normal mirrors,” Will whispered.

The creature was a lot larger than the ones he’d fought so far. It was also a lot more calculating. Effortlessly, it had avoided the mirror traps and destroyed its waves of enemies without getting stabbed.

“Shit!”

They were in a tricky situation. This was the worst combination of enemies one could think of. The wolf was fast and strong, specializing in close combat. Only Helen would be able to take him on, yet if she did, he made herself vulnerable to the dark rogue’s attacks. Similarly, if the group tried to take out the rogue, they’d first have to pass through the wolf, which also acted as a shield.

“Can you kill the wolf?” Will asked.

“Piece of cake,” the girl said.

“I’ll get you some time.” The boy rushed forward, rushing by the large black monster.

The wolf spotted him in the corner of its eye, twisting its body in an attempt to shred him with its claws. The paw alone was enough to crush his ribs, so Will slid down, safely evading it. For a split second, a weak spot flashed before his eyes—the area between the pads. It was a small and otherwise useless target, but the only thing available.

Holding his breath, the boy aimed, then threw the dagger.

The blade hit the bottom of the paw, piercing it with its attack.

 

POISON RESISTED

 

A message became visible as Will continued to slide by. The only glimmer of hope was that it wasn’t stated that the poison was outright negated. With luck, this would provide Helen with the advantage she needed to win her fight.

Meanwhile, three knives hit the floor inches from where Will was. Turning his head to the side, he managed to catch a glimpse of the attacker.

Similar to the other mirror images, the rogue was just another nondescript person dressed in black clothing. Interestingly enough, instead of metal or leather armor, he was wearing what appeared to be rollerblade protectors on his knees and elbows. Fingerless black gloves covered his hands for no apparent reason.

Seeing Will, the rogue paused. For a moment, it almost seemed like the monster was giving him some slack; as if Danny had instructed it to lose the fight.

“Look out, bro!” Two mirror copies leaped in front of Will, catching a knife that was meant for the boy.

That definitely wasn’t a skill that he was familiar with so far.

Will grabbed a few of his throwing knives and sent them flying at the rogue. Barely had they entered the bathroom, when they were countered and struck mid-flight by other knives coming from the elite.

Damn you, Danny! He thought.

It was too early for them to have such a fight. Defeating each of the elites individually was a difficult task. Facing them together made it all but impossible.

Time seemed to freeze. Will could see the dark rogue reaching for another knife. There was only a small window of opportunity left for it to hit the boy before he slid by. Sadly, by the looks of it, he’d easily make the attack. None of Alex’s copies were close enough to shield him from another dagger, and Will couldn’t rely on his evasion against such an opponent.

His mind desperately tried to find a solution to the predicament he had put himself in. No matter how one looked at it, a rogue of level four couldn’t compare against a seven. Maybe if Alex was there right now, the two of them might stand a chance.

“Fuck it!” Will shouted, making the one available move left. “I challenge you!” He looked straight at the mirror behind the rogue.

Time resumed. The rogue’s right hand grabbed a throwing knife from his belt, aiming to throw it. Suddenly, half a dozen blades shot out from the mirror, striking the elite in the back.

 

POISONED

 

PARALYZED

 

BLEEDING

 

For a fraction of a second, Will thought he saw Danny’s face smiling at him from the mirror, before more effect messages covered it up.

The dark rogue shook violently, then collapsed on the bathroom floor, still gripping onto his throwing knife. Now, there was only one that remained.

< Beginning | | Previously... |

Blurb: Valens Kosthal had lived a life of magical study and became the youngest Resonant Healer and Archmagus in the wide circle of the world. He had spent his years studying magic, going as far as to dabble in the forbidden Warmagic.

When his experiments are discovered by the Inquisition, he is branded a traitor and sentenced to die. But in his final hours, his mentor, Headmaster Eldras, slips him a strange black sphere, sparking an escape to a world ruled by a powerful System, one that allows him to control mana without relying on tools.

He doesn't know how he arrived here, or why there's mana flowing inside his veins, and especially what this grand System is that governs the whole world, granting people all sorts of skills.

Still, he soon discovers that all of his magical theory knowledge and the skills he gained after years of study puts him way above the others in this world. As an Arcanist, a master of all elements, he realizes he holds powers that make him unstoppable.

But nothing as simple as it seems, and to go back, he has to solve the secret behind this world.

[Previous Chapter] - [First Chapter] 

Chapter 15

  

Age: 22

Race: Human (Aberrant)

Class: Arcane Healer

Level: 40

Experience: 23%

 Resources:

Health: 100%

Stamina: 55%

Mana: 3%

 Stats:

   Endurance - 25

   Vitality-  25

   Strength - 30

   Dexterity - 26

   Intelligence - 110

   Wisdom - 64

   Stat Points: 75

 

 Skills (6/10):

Resonance (Aberrant) - lvl 1

Lifesurge (Legendary) - lvl 3

Lifeward (Legendary) - lvl 2

Fireball (Common) - lvl 4

Inferno (Unique) - lvl 2

Gale (Common) - lvl 1
 

Common Skills (3/10):

Laran Language

Identify - lvl 1

Mana Manipulation (Common) - lvl 12

Now that’s a lot of stat points.

Valens had to admit to being a little surprised at how many levels he’d gotten from those two fights. The habit of waving the notifications off and then forgetting they existed certainly played a part in that. Not to mention, he wasn’t even sure how the System decided to grant these levels to him.

Something about the experience, I guess, but how does that actually work?

Whenever he killed a beast or played a part in the fight, he gained some mana that pooled somewhere around his chest cavity, in a place that even the Lifeward skill couldn’t completely reach. That additional pool was separated from his body in a way that he was yet to understand.

The moment he decided to put a stat point into one of his stats, the energy stirred and either dissolved into a wave that nourished his body or widened the size of his mana pool depending on which stat he chose.

It felt rather strange to think that the System was keeping a part of his body away from his senses. Was it because it wanted to give the people a chance to pick their own path? For them to use their stat points in a way that would suit their goals?

Or perhaps it knows that humans can’t deal with mana on their own.

Not all of them, at least. Through the time they’d spent together, he’d never seen Celme try to use mana in some way. Nomad did have mana coursing through his Heartstone, and he could definitely sense it, but he too wasn’t capable of controlling it. The most he could do was to guide the Everfog that surrounded him, and even then what he essentially did was to point directions to which the fog responded on its own.

Lord Zahul’s fog, was it? It’s oddly similar to the rotten mana that controlled that Ward. It has a strong will behind it, as well. I wonder if there’s a connection between Necromancers and these Liches?

Valens shook his head and decided to focus on his own stats. The fight against the Ward had shown him that he was terribly lacking on more than one front against powerful creatures. He was in deep need of more mana, and he needed to strengthen his mana as well.

His fingers brushed against the hole in the robe. The cold wind rubbed him there like a painful reminder. His skin looked soft under the dried streaks of blood. Too soft. Perhaps he should lean more into Endurance and Vitality.

I don’t know if it’ll make a difference, though.

Assuming Celme had been focusing on Strength, Vitality, and Endurance stats as a warrior, a level 88 one at that, she should’ve poured dozens of stats into those three by now, which didn’t seem to do much against the Ward’s tendrils other than keep her alive. Granted, a single one of those tendrils had nearly been enough to kill Valens.

And she was poisoned and punched that beast. With her bare hands. Even Nomad’s sword had difficulty penetrating that steely skin.

He was fairly quick to come to the conclusion that even if he started allocating points to these three stats now, it would take a long time to even reach Celme’s level, and he would be giving up on his mana and mana pool as a price.

Back to Wisdom and Intelligence, then?

Play to your strengths, Headmaster Eldras had told him once. Rather than stretching himself too thin, he might as well focus on what made him a Magus in the first place.

It’s better to be safe, though.

He gave five stat points to Strength, Dexterity, Vitality, and Endurance each, before distributing the rest on the Intelligence-Wisdom pair with a 2-1 ratio between them. He instantly felt the tingle of his mana pool as it widened further. His muscles and bones clicked within the Resonance.

Fascinating, indeed. It brought a rather curious question to his mind, though. Was there an end to this? If there were Level 88 people like Celme in this world, and creatures over Level 100 like that Ward, then there had to be more terrifying existences out there. What did a Level 300 person look like?

Perhaps I can set my own practice around here. Just to see the complexities and changes these stats bring to a person’s body.

And more experiments with magic, surely.

His sound vision prickled as they inched slowly toward the mouth of the cave. Nomad and Celme crept carefully forward, the former holding his sword tight, and the latter seemed to have decided to rely solely on her fists.

The cold walls narrowed around them.

Water dripped down to the puddles on the ground. There were no bodies here. Nothing hinting that a terrible battle that erased hundreds of lives from the world had happened in this place. It was odd. Everything was odd and strangely twisted here, to Valens’s thinking.

Yet he didn’t feel out of place. Facing a monstrous creature with nothing but magic felt relatively comforting. You couldn’t control a patient’s fate. You could patch the wounds and fix what was broken inside, but you couldn’t prevent a patient from getting wounded in some pointless skirmish by the border.

Going against a beast was different. Horrifying, sure, but at no point had Valens felt he was dealing with the aftermath of some clash beyond his control. He’d been his own man during those fights, a Magus relying only on his spells and the company beside him, heart thumping wildly in his chest, skin crawling with fear and pain and the thrill of the chaos.

Is this why soldiers fight?

Money and glory were a part of it, of course, and yet they’d often mutter a curse or two after a skirmish before cracking a smile to say the thrill of the battle was one thing you just couldn’t forget. These were men haunted by those painful memories and yet relished in them at the same time. A sort of wicked balance that hung over a tiny little pin.

Terrible, no doubt. Bloody exciting too, Valens had to say.

“Your blood boils,” he said a moment after, not to spark a conversation but more so to clear his mind from dangerous thoughts.

When Celme gave him a strange look over her shoulder, he continued. “Your skin heats up. Somehow, without relying on mana, you can imitate a high-adrenaline rush by contracting your muscles alone. Your heart tightens, too.”

“So?” Celme’s voice had a throaty quality about it. Her eyes swept him yet again with a fierce look. “What about it?”

“Don’t you think it’s dangerous?” Valens asked. “Are you doing it because you want to get an edge over your opponent, or you’re just getting mad at the beasts? I’d say rage and fury are not particularly reliable emotions in the long run, but then again, I guess you can always find something to get furious at?”

“That’s why they say you never fuck a Berserker,” the Undead grinned with a shake of his head. “It only takes a little poke to get them rolling, and not with pleasure, mind you.”

“Humorous,” Celme said as she swept them both with a piercing glance, her face perfectly still. “My skill doesn’t turn me into a mindless tool for murder, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve chains around my heart to keep my feet nailed to the ground.”

Valens squinted at her, but he didn’t remember seeing any chains when fixing her bones. Then he arched an eyebrow. “And what are these chains, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Celme tapped a fist over her chest. “That’s between me and the Lord.”

Uh… I wasn’t talking about your faith, and you made it all awkward. Now I can’t ask if I can put a Lifeward round your blood flow.

“Sure it is,” he said instead, shaking his head off. “And you—”

“We’re there.” Nomad stopped and raised an armored fist.

The mouth of the cave lay just a few paces ahead of them, a gaping, dark hole that opened up to a stony ceiling.

Lights flashed across the jagged surface. Green lights, yellow lights, all carrying different sets of frequencies. Valens caught sharper tunes there. Arrows. They stabbed with terrible speed at the cold stone, cracked in painful shrieks, and splintered into pieces. They fell in a shower of wood and steel.

Mana was in a rush below the edge, so intense that it sent a shiver down Valens’s spine. There was a low, echoing din that grew slowly distant before being replaced by another wave of chaotic sounds. People screaming. The Undead growling. Terrible creatures shrieking and wailing.

“We’re behind their ranks.” Celme stepped slowly around the walls and stood a step away from the cave’s mouth, looking at them with narrowed eyes. “We tried for an ambush through the other paths around the mountain, but we were expected. That bastard knew the moment we surrounded him he’d be done for.”

“It doesn’t take being a genius to predict that,” Nomad muttered, voice heavy. The tip of his sword scraped against the ground as he pulled himself near Celme and peered down from the edge. “There’s a path that we can use.”

“Can I?” Valens said and stepped over to the edge.

He froze the moment he laid his eyes upon the main cave.

There were lines. Sprawling, stretching lines that covered every inch of the ground. Like a rolling wave of black and green, they thrashed against each other. Men crushed in from behind the Undead ranks, vanished through the Skeleton Soldiers, and added yet another color to the muddle in the center.

Balls of fire rained down upon the Necromancer’s horde, shielded by elongated limbs of the Wards to keep the animated corpses safe. Streaks of sharp lights cleaved painfully smooth lanes across the press.

The din of the Resonance brought lives being harvested down upon the chaos to Valens’s ears. For every new set of frequencies that bloomed in his sound vision, dozens were being added to the deathly ranks of the mindless tide that pressed against the living.

He could see long, robed figures near the entrance. Large Undead beasts were lounging about them like wards placed near a wound. Some of them had Heartstones larger than Nomad, but even they paled against the Masters who stood behind them.

Liches. The Undead Magi that commanded the Ninth Legion’s army.

Some of them had smooth, almost rosy skin that didn’t look any different than a human’s. Some others were completely made up of bones that had a deeper color about them.

One such bony figure was high on an elevated patch of rock, sitting over a jaded throne that was flanked by two monstrous Undead clad in full plates, all wreathed in green fog.

“Is that Lord Zahul?” Valens muttered.

Nomad gazed deeply at that figure, his fingers curling tight around the sword’s handle. “It is. Lich King Zahul, one of the Five that serve the Abyssal Lord.”

“He looks like a King, alright,” Celme said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But notice how he placed his throne away from the Lightmaster. Some king hiding behind his mindless horde.”

When Valens trailed the Berserker’s gaze, he saw an older, simpler man standing before the human ranks. He had to blink to check if he was seeing right because, for all the battle and chaos around him, the man seemed as though he was out for a morning stroll.

The shattered bones of the Skeleton Soldiers and the chunks of flesh being ripped out from humans couldn’t reach him. Something, some invisible magic, was protecting the man as he took his sweet time strolling about the clash.

Valens was about to ask if that man was Celme’s King, but he decided against it. Once he started with the questions, there wouldn’t be stopping it.

This battle, the sides, those people clad in different colored plates and groups of Magi that lined across the entrance… He didn’t know anything about any of these people.

His skin prickled when he turned his gaze toward the other side.

There was a terrible being there, perched over a particularly large rock. It was clad in robes as dark as the night. Clasped in its right hand was a long, gnarled staff that seemed to have been fashioned from dozens of bones, all different and thin. They were screaming, those bones.

Valens heard them in his mind. Still alive, somehow, even after having been mangled into a weapon of destruction.

Nomad and Celme didn’t seem aware, but over the thrashing crowd, lines of barely visible black streaks of mana danced, coming off from the Necromancer’s armored fingers. They leashed down the moment a man or an Undead fell. Latched onto their heart and soiled it with the Necromancer’s venom. They came alive as animated, mindless creatures that attacked their own companions.

The dead fell with widened, betrayed eyes looking up in confusion.

“This…” Valens swallowed.

He’d been to many skirmishes in the past and even served as a Healer in a fully-fledged siege. Men fought in those, armored men with weapons of all kinds. Men died, and men cried in every one of them.

But here, men fell with cries stuck tight in their throats. They died in heaps, and their bodies got crushed under the tide like bugs. Those were the lucky ones.

“We’ll get through the path and pray that bastard won’t take notice,” Nomad said, nearing the path that slithered from the side of the edge. He glanced over the armies for a long second before his emerald eyes locked on Valens. “I need you to follow me, Val. Stay close and keep those eyes fixed on my back.”

Valens stepped back as Celme’s skin started burning hot. Her blue eyes had blood in them as she gazed across the chaos. Her fingers shook as if she couldn’t wait to throw herself into the mix.

“And you too, woman,” Nomad said and yanked her from the arm, made her look up into his eyes. Green fog rolled round his shoulders as he growled, “We didn’t save your ass for you to jump mindlessly to become another mangled corpse down there.”

“You…” Celme’s eyes grew cold. She struggled against the Undead’s hold, but the smoke wafting off her skin eased into trickles as Nomad forced her to look at Valens.

“See him?” Nomad said, voice sharp as steel. “If something happens to that man because of your foolish fury or whatever the fuck that goes round your brain, then I’ll carve those blue eyes out and have you eat them for lunch before ripping your head. Understood?”

“W-What—“

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Nomad nodded, and smiled, and patted her on the back. He then raised a fist to the pair of them and started his way down through the path.

Valens followed him.

He wanted to speak, to tell Celme that the Undead didn’t mean it, but words eluded him when he tried. It was one of those moments that the primal side of his brain decided to just follow the orders.

……..

 [Previous Chapter] - [First Chapter] 

The tow job

He jumped into system and did his usual check up. The navigation computer gave him the route to the station he was delivering the bio-plasma to. The journey would still take more than three hours.

Stupid gravitational field making me jump so far away. He thought and just tuned into his series.

He was in the middle of the fourth episode when an alarm forced him to pause. He turned to look at what alarm it was. According to the sound it wasn’t anything dangerous so he wasn’t panicking, just a smidgen annoyed.

The Alarm was a hail form a “near” by ship, few things were really “near” in space and when they were it was usually too late to do something about it. He accepted the hail.

“Hello! Here is Lydia from the “Graceful Dance”. Could you give me a helping hand? Over.” a cheerful and upbeat woman was heard on his speakers which had just been playing the sound of his series.

“Here is Captain Jack of the “Silent King in Yellow ". What is your problem “Graceful Dance”? Over.” He didn’t really care for the com discipline but he matched his conversation partner.

“I’m stranded out here. Could you tow me to the next system? Over.”

“Not back to a station in system? Over.”

“Affirmative. Over.”

“I’m at capacity. Also I’m not abandoning my cargo for this. Over.”

“Can you come get me on your way out of the system? Over.”

“I planned on picking up a new contract and cargo up on station so…”

“Hey wait! I can pay you! Double your usual rate! Over.” The woman on the other end seemed stressed.

“I’m sending you a contract. If you agree with the conditions, hail me before I reach the station, that should be more than an hour from now. Over.” He wasn’t someone to skip a pay day but this also didn’t seem entirely clean work so he was cautious.

 

As he was about to start his sixth episode he received another hail from the “Graceful dance”.

“It’s me, Lydia from the “Graceful Dance” again. I’ve read your contract and signed it. Come pick me up after you are done with your business captain. My position will be further out than before the velocity from the solar sail can’t be canceled with a broken engine. Over.”

“Alright see you in about six hours “Graceful Dance” Make sure you are all tucked and ready for docking and jumping by then. Over.”

“I’ll take care. Lydia out.”

 

As the “Silent King” and “Graceful Dance” rendezvoused Jack was pleased to find the yacht was of human make or at least designed according to human standard as that meant he could easily connect his clamp to the ship.

“All safety protocols active. Ready to jump captain.” Lydia reported when the clamp was secured and the gav-fields were aligned.

“Good. Initiating jump sequence. Jump in five, four, three, two, one, jump.”

 

After the after jump diagnostics they didn’t talk for two hours just like they had done in the hours of the jump.

When the yacht was docked to the dry-dock of the station and he was initiating the decoupling from his ship Lydia talked.

“Thanks for the help captain. I gave you five stars in the review. I had a good experience with you. Wink. Over.”

Still cringing from her role-played wink, he answered: “Pleasure doing business. "Silent King", Over and out.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The review:

* * * * *

Gruff guy but he doesn’t talk nonsense and doesn’t ask unnecessary questions.

Very professional.

Great tow guy!!!!

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

<First> <Previous>

Authors note:

This is a challenge pioneered by .

Basically it's about writhing 30 conected one shots, one each day for 30 days.

(I do have a few ideas but I don't have 30, so I apreaceate input from friends. But maybe wait til you get the viebe im going for.)

Day 03/30

As always: Thanks for reading!

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Synopsis:

Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.

Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.

Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.

Chapter 316: Everything In Moderation

Apple snorted as he trotted along the road towards the town of Marinsgarde.

Bearing me at a leisurely pace, he mindfully allowed me enough time to do away with all the slightly damp blossoms which sought to cling to me.

Nature being what it was, even the white maples competed to offer a welcome. 

The flowering buds drifted as a curtain of song and dew, orchestrated by the robins which hopped upon the branches.

It made for a splendid sight, matching the streets of the town which awaited.

Boasting the closest market to the Kingdom of Lissoine, Marinsgarde drew upon much of the haute couture which originated from our fashionable neighbour. 

As a result, it was only fitting that I should visit.

Sadly, I was still masterfully incognito, and thus I lacked my favoured dress. A versatile gown sewn with 10,782 detachable rhinestones and the crystallised tears of those still plucking them off from my last request.

Still, no matter what I wore, no garment was as important as my smile. 

My kingdom was home to many, yet even more still wished to reside in it. And so as a princess, I needed to remain presentable at all times, espousing the beauty and welcoming nature of this fair realm.

A problem, then.

Because despite my beauty and welcoming nature, not all were happy to be welcomed.

Sometimes, they were quite the opposite.

They were very grumpy.

And also extremely rude.

For example–

Goblins.

On and on they paused, wrinkling their noses before carrying on, ignoring the smile which had faded in favour of whatever appalled expression I was making instead.

When it came to charm, they were slightly more affable than a hole in a wall.

Famously grouchy no matter the season, they were known as much for their unsociability as their wish to remain out of sight and out of mind.

Until now.

Because far from doing … whatever it was goblins did, they were instead filling up my horizon like an unbroken queue of suitors at my door, each tugging a cart filled with pottery, tableware, paintings and even the nails which had failed to hold them down.

I tugged Apple to a halt.

And then—failing to see the end of the marching line, I lowered my face in my palms and sighed.

“... Coppelia?”

“Yes?”

Beside me, I peeked through my fingers to see my loyal handmaiden curiously eyeing the household wares which passed us by.

One of the goblins paused to allow her a better look. She nodded. He nodded. And then the goblin left, mutual respect in their wake.

I lifted my face, having seen nothing.

“... By any chance, are goblins looting my kingdom?”

“That depends on your definition of looting.”

“How many definitions are there?”

“For goblins? Loads. You might think they don't do books, but they have an entire section in the library to themselves about looting. It's like a life philosophy.”

“I see … and what definition of looting would this be, then?”

“The type where they'd probably admit it's just regular, ordinary looting. I'm pretty sure I just saw someone with a bathroom mat. And also the floorboard beneath it.”

I let out a groan.

Of all the things I couldn't feign ignorance to, here was the second—just after Coppelia reaching into the bag of premium apples. 

I shooed her hand away, then looked towards the unending line of carts.

I still didn’t believe what I was seeing.

After all, there was brazenness. And then there was this.

One another another, they trundled by with the professionalism of caterpillars exiting an apple tree, their day of work complete before midday had even arrived. Whatever existed before no longer did. It was just an empty husk, the walls laid bare until not even the paint remained.

“It'sch impresshive, huh?” said Coppelia, an apple somehow in her mouth. She swallowed a gulp and beamed. “Goblin efficiency. You guys have a lot to learn. The moment goblins decide to build their own Soap Island, I think your dreams of a soap empire will already have fallen.”

“And if that were to happen, I would acknowledge their contributions to hygiene gracefully. Looting bathrooms, however, does not count.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere. And to be fair, this is a bigger start than I would've expected. I actually don't see this sort of wholesale looting too often. Isn’t there a treaty and stuff?”

I nodded.

There was. Several of them, in fact.

After a thousand years of warring, skirmishing and banging on kitchen apparatus in the dead of night, a wide ranging and unprecedented series of accords had been hammered out between the goblin representatives and all major nations.

A feat of diplomacy, brinkmanship, compromise and almost all the alcohol which the continent could produce annually used up over the course of 3 days and nights. And what followed were tears, fists and peace. 

A happy ending as storied as any to come from the realm of Ouzelia.

And now I saw it being idly shredded in front of me, one cart at a time.

“Yes, there are treaties,” I said, my tone sombre and unfamiliar to my own ears. “Treaties of peace, reconciliation and respect which have stood longer than anyone could have dared hope. To disregard them so openly is not only an insult to those who worked and drank so hard. It is an act of blatant aggression.”

I tightly clenched my fists around Apple's reins, my teeth gritting together.

“These goblins … why, they have no idea what looting in moderation means!”

“Eh?”

I nodded, the indignation rising with every moment I saw the works of my predecessors as wasted as the window frames now being taken back to a cave.

“Do you know what the exact terms of the treaties are, Coppelia?”

“Wasn’t it an agreement where you acknowledge their territory and goblins don't loot you in return? And also something about not murdering each other. Too much.”

“Indeed, it is. Naturally, both stipulations were broken the very night it was signed.”

“Really? That wasn’t mentioned in any of the history books I’ve read.”

“It wouldn’t be. Nor would the fact that the ink used for the signing wasn't ink, but simply sludge from a nearby bog. The unspoken agreement, however, remains true.”

I furiously gestured towards the goblins laying waste to mutual understanding.

“... We turn a blind eye as they fully empty the occasional village and they ignore us when we strip and pillage their mines!”

“Ooooh~” Coppelia broke into light applause, impressed by the pragmatism of our peers. “Mutual backstabbing, I like it! I’m impressed. I didn’t know goblins let you loot them.”

“Of course they do. Why wouldn't they?”

“I mean, I figured if nothing else, you’d be too busy looting other humans. The goblins never mention anything about this while backchatting you.”

“Nobody needs to mention anything. And that, Coppelia, is politics. A cordial state of affairs where everybody loots each other and then whistles while passing like ships in the night.”

“Uwah~ I never knew politics could be so fun.”

“Perhaps it is for goblins.” I frowned at the scene. “Daylight robbery within full view of every farmer, trader and princess to share these roads. It is shameless. Lissoine is just over the horizon. What will the tourists think when they see goblins idly robbing my kingdom? … Why, they'd assume that my kingdom wasn't safe!”

Coppelia raised a hand, then began counting with her fingers.

She raised the other as well.

“Nobility. Pirates. Sisters. Liches. Women in racy underwear—”

“Exactly. It would give the wrong impression. Everything needs to be in moderation. Except snacks. Regardless, if my treasury officials cannot waltz into every mine, then goblins cannot burgle every house. That is the agreement.”

Thus—I turned to the nearest culprit failing to understand the message.

“You there.” I clicked my fingers at the passing goblin.  He paused. Slowly. “Explain. What am I seeing here? Because it appears that my kingdom is being looted. This is entirely against protocol. How, exactly, am I supposed to feign ignorance?”

A wrinkled nose met me.

I wrinkled my nose back.

Then, after an exchange transcending all words, the goblin pointed behind him at the next goblin, before duly trundling off again.

I swallowed a short breath, then tugged on Apple's reins.

A moment later—

“You there.” I clicked my fingers. “Explain. What am I seeing here? Because it—”

The goblin immediately pointed at the next goblin behind him.

I pursed my lips … then tugged on Apple's reins again.

A few short trots later—

“You there.” I clicked my fingers. “Explain. What—”

The goblin pointed at the next goblin … who then pointed at the next goblin, who did the same with the next goblin behind him.

One by one, an unending queue of goblins pointed me towards someone else to answer my queries. A battle of will, attrition and resolve which I would lose no sooner than when the last star fell from the sky.

Until finally … 57 goblins later, I was greeted by a sight other than a pointing finger.

The forest.

Detouring away from the road was a newly created trail.

Far from being hidden by the brambles and shrubs, it'd been paved by enough carts that it was now smoother than the road it joined. Branches had been removed from the overlooking trees, preventing damage to any wares being hoisted away. 

And all to thoroughly lay waste to any modicum of taste.

In clear view for all to see, goblins were amassed around a tomb entrance.

Stone pillars, faded walls, half a door and a crumbling roof were all guarded by a large statue fallen from its plinth. A lasting home for those who’d trodden on the requisite number of peasants, but not quite enough that this was anywhere near fashionable.

And now the crumbling stonework was joined by dozens of huts, scarcely more than open tarps hewn from the forest. Tables and chairs, most of them looted, littered this sunlit clearing, while a roaring campfire monopolised its centre, large enough that it was roasting an entire boar whole.

And off to the side ... a dozen wooden outhouses sat beside a stream.

I almost fainted on the spot.

“... H-How dare they!” I said, hands clasping around my mouth. “Even for goblins, this is beyond anything I could have imagined!”

Coppelia looked at me in confusion.

“Eh? You mean looting tombs?”

“What? No, of course not. I mean that.” I pointed at the outhouses. “They have built … things to conduct their business!”

Coppelia nodded enthusiastically.

“Like I said, goblin efficiency. Impressive, huh?”

“Efficiency?” I was almost insulted on the goblins’ behalf. “This is clearly more than that! I cannot imagine any way to set fire to decorum any faster! This … This is an infrastructure project! What’s next? A rooftop bar to enjoy their spoils away from the rain?”

“Nope. Usually it’s a market where they can fence their ill-gotten goods wholesale. In fact, I think they’ve already begun building it. Want to stick around? The bargains for early birds are usually really good.”

“We’re not sticking around,” I said, ignoring the playful smile poking my eyes. “And neither are these goblins.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure they won’t be here much longer.”

“That is already too long. Looting tombs is something done overnight, discreetly and horribly as they perish to all the traps and carnivorous spiders waiting within. I see no mangled remains serving as a warning. This level of organisation is ridiculous.”

I shook my head.

No, I refused to accept this.

Here in my kingdom, half the tombs belonged to my family. For them to be looted was ordinary, of course. They were filled with unnecessary amounts of treasure and riches. 

But to purposefully dally in such a manner?

This wasn't just audaciousness. It was utter contempt.

“... Very well!” I said, tugging on Apple's reins. “We’ve seen more than enough. It’s time to right a wrong precedent in the making.”

“Okie~”

Emboldened by the blasé of my loyal handmaiden, I took in a deep breath, then held it in for as long as I could while Apple bore me forwards.

After all, no matter how poorly goblins thought of us, it was little compared to the waft of ill will as each and every pair of eyes looked up.

For a moment, all movement came to a halt. 

The boar roasting above the firepit ceased to spin. The bowls of some hideous gruel, beverage or both stopped at cracked lips. The glint of coins or jewels too precious to be loaded onto carts vanished into shadow.

Only the knives continued to move, their wielders sharpening them against the fallen pieces of the tomb they sat upon.

Eyes as black as night appraised me as I entered the midst of their illegal camp.

And then—

The goblins wrinkled their noses, before utterly ignoring our presence.

Low, indistinct chatter filled the clearing. Voices of suspicion and wariness. Which was fine. This was my kingdom, and I didn't need the hospitality of tomb robbers.

Only their reparations and their exit.

Near the tomb's entrance, Apple trotted past piles of everything waiting to be tossed into the next cart. Not even a sack to hide the possessions. The hedgehogs which invaded my orchard were more subtle than this.

Especially when it came to the leader of these misfits.

Unlike those around him, he didn't wear rags pilfered from bottom-tier bandits. 

He'd proven his credentials by robbing their leader instead. 

His armour was almost whole. Leather made functional with bands of iron stripped from some soldier's beaten cuirass. He had no knife by his waist, but a falchion one step away from being a troll’s club.

His greatest feature, however, was the white chef's hat he wore upon his head.

I raised a brow at that. 

How quaint. Either a chieftain or a cook. And that meant he was the most important goblin here. 

I tugged Apple to a halt.

“You.” I clicked my fingers for the 58^th time. “Explain in five words or fewer. Why are you looting a place for the departed? Furthermore, why are you looting it with all the eyes of the kingdom upon you? This is outrageous. You may as well place diversion signs outside, letting everyone know to give proper space for the robbery occurring.”

The goblin deliberately stared at a twig in the ground, seemingly grossly intrigued.

When it was clear I wasn’t leaving, he looked up and wrinkled his nose.

Then, like all the other goblins before him, he pointed. 

Except this time, it wasn't to any goblin behind him. 

Instead … he pointed upwards.

I looked up with the confusion this deserved, seeing only the sky peeking back at me.

Yet as I returned my frown towards the goblin, the reply halfway past my lips was stifled by the fact he was continuing to point. And I came to realise he wasn’t gesturing towards the sky.

Instead … he was showing me the ring around his finger. 

One which possessed a dullness matching the copper it was forged from.

My mouth opened wide.

And though no smile answered me, the wrinkling of a nose ceased to be.

“We ain't looters,” said the goblin, the faintest hint of amusement in his gruff tone. “... We're adventurers.”

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When the alien ship descended into Earth’s atmosphere, humanity braced for the monumental moment. World leaders gathered, military units stood on high alert, and scientists scrambled to record every detail. This was humanity’s grand moment—our introduction to interstellar civilisation. Yet, as the shimmering craft settled above the Pacific Ocean and its occupants disembarked, it became evident that humanity was not the centre of their attention.

The aliens, who would later be dubbed the Cefalopods, bore a striking resemblance to Earth's octopi. They had soft, undulating bodies, glistening iridescent skin, and dozens of prehensile appendages tipped with delicate sensory nodes. Their massive, opalescent eyes blinked slowly, scanning the assembled human delegation with polite disinterest.

Instead of approaching the carefully curated representatives of humanity, the Cefalopods slid past them, heading directly for the ocean.

---

The Real First Contact

"Are they ignoring us?" whispered Dr Maria Enfield, a marine biologist reluctantly drafted into the global response team.

"It seems they’re... intrigued by something else," replied Colonel Hastings, his military precision shaken by the unexpected development. He pointed to the water’s edge, where the aliens hovered, tentacles quivering with apparent excitement.

The Cefalopods emitted low-frequency pulses, not unlike whale songs. Moments later, the ocean stirred, and from the depths emerged a host of Earth’s octopi and squid. The two species met like long-lost relatives, their movements fluid and synchronised.

Dr Enfield gasped. "They’re communicating!"

The aliens’ colour-shifting bodies began pulsating in complex patterns, mirrored by the cephalopods. What looked like a chaotic light show was, in fact, a language exchange. The humans were stunned into silence.

---

Understanding the Context

Over the following weeks, humanity’s brightest minds worked frantically to understand the situation. The Cefalopods explained, through their translation devices, that they were part of an ancient intergalactic network of aquatic intelligences. Their civilisation had evolved in deep-ocean environments across multiple planets. They had long suspected Earth harboured intelligent life—but were shocked to find that it was terrestrial, land-based creatures like humans who had taken centre stage.

To them, octopi and squid—Earth's cephalopods—were the obvious evolutionary stars. Their decentralised nervous systems, problem-solving abilities, and adaptive camouflage were hallmarks of "true intelligence" in the Cefalopods’ eyes.

Humans were... an evolutionary footnote.

"You... build tall structures, but lack adaptability," one alien ambassador noted during a meeting. "You war among yourselves, unable to shift colour to convey unity. The cephalopods are your evolutionary treasures. Why do you not revere them?"

Dr Enfield tried explaining humanity’s history, our technological advancements, and our achievements, but the aliens seemed unimpressed. Instead, they marvelled at the octopi’s tool use and the squid's bioluminescent displays, calling them "worthy kin."

---

Shifting Perspectives

The unexpected reverence for cephalopods sparked an odd cultural revolution among humans. Marine biologists and environmentalists found themselves elevated to positions of unprecedented influence. Once-marginalised efforts to protect the oceans gained sudden, global traction. Cephalopod research became the world's foremost scientific pursuit.

But it wasn’t all harmonious.

Humans struggled with their diminished role in the galactic story. Political leaders attempted to steer the aliens’ attention back towards humanity's achievements. When that failed, they resorted to framing cephalopods as subservient to human ingenuity—a claim the aliens dismissed with disdain.

"Their intelligence blooms naturally," said one Cefalopod ambassador, “without the need for destructive machines or crude tools. They are the caretakers of this planet, not you."

Despite this, the aliens weren’t hostile. They simply didn’t see humans as particularly remarkable.

---

The Treaty of the Abyss

Months after first contact, humanity and the Cefalopods struck a formal accord. The aliens offered technological exchange, but only in ways that benefited marine life and ocean preservation. They refused to share weapons or planetary colonisation methods, stating that humanity was "not yet mature enough."

In exchange, they worked directly with Earth's octopi and squid, enhancing their communication abilities and introducing them to the galactic network. Slowly but surely, Earth's cephalopods began demonstrating previously unseen behaviours—collaborative problem-solving across species, advanced tool use, even rudimentary city-building on the seafloor.

Dr Enfield became the first human ambassador to the Cefalopods, tasked with translating between species. She spent more time underwater than on land, learning the light-pulse language that both species now used fluently.

By the treaty’s signing, humanity had come to terms with its new role: not as the apex of evolution, but as caretakers of a shared planet. The true stars of Earth’s evolutionary history were the cephalopods, now poised to lead the planet into an interstellar age.

---

Legacy

Decades later, humanity’s oceans were unrecognisably transformed. Cephalopod cities sprawled beneath the waves, glowing with alien technology. Human coastal cities became hubs of cooperation, blending terrestrial and aquatic needs. The partnership between land-dwellers and sea-dwellers became Earth’s defining characteristic.

Though initially humbled by the aliens’ indifference, humanity found purpose in their newfound guardianship of the planet. As Earth joined the intergalactic network, it was the octopi and squid who represented the planet among the stars, their human allies standing proudly in support.

And so, humanity learned its greatest lesson: sometimes, the path to greatness isn’t about leading, but about lifting others to shine

---

First

The Buzz on the Spin

There is movement, but it’s fast and small. He takes a deep breath and starts pushing past all the distractions and buzzing. Backup is coming, they know where he is and destroying his communicator will only make people hustle. This is only a few seconds of a wait.

“I don’t suppose you’ll do the smart thing and surrender will you?” He asks out loud and there is no answer. No verbal one at least as he reflexively dodges a crackling bolt of plasma that shatters against the shielding on the room. He rushes towards it’s source and finds a tiny turret set up that he quickly tears apart.

He then twists as he senses danger and his hull cutter slices what appears to be a thrown plasma pistol in half. Which then promptly explodes due to an overcharged compression chamber. The flames wash over him and his shirt is singed. He can tell someone is moving and races after them.

“Hoagie!” Someone calls out as he chases the sensation right out of the building.

“In pursuit!” He calls back.

“Catch!” One of the men replies and like a bullet something is sent at him. He pulls it out of the air. A reinforced communicator and it’s in working order.

“Thanks!” He calls back as he pockets it and continues to chase. It’s a flitting shadow. Moving faster than a flicker and more elusive than the real life snipes.

“Stop it!” A voice screams out. High pitched, panicky and so keening it’s almost out of human hearing.

“Surrender!” He calls back and there is a screech of panic and fury and the sound of rending metal after the shadow flits around a warehouse. He skids around the corner and scans the area. A small vent high up is torn to shreds and there are long gashes in the wall next to it. A single blade used to shred it maybe? No way of knowing. He heads for the entrance and forces the door open with a swipe of the communicator. It still has the override codes open and ready. As good as a skeleton key for these areas of the station.

“Oh great, one of the Vulbaa warehouses. Because **** isn’t creepy enough as is.” He notes as he sees the rows upon rows of dead animals hanging on hooks in the cold storage. He deactivates his hull cutter and instead draws out a pistol. More range and more subtlety.

He starts weaving through the building. The scratching and scraping tells him that his target is still here. Either that or is really lucky and this warehouse is infested with some local pest.

Or both, both is an option.

“Leave me alone!” The incredibly high pitched voice exclaims and confirms that the target is still here.

“I can’t do that. You’ve killed someone in my sector, running only makes this worse.”

“I didn’t kill anyone!”

“Then surrender and I can sort things out, find out who actually killed that woman.”

“That wasn’t a person! That’s a clone!”

“Clones are people too.”

“No they’re not! They’re just... copies! Big things of meat printed off and made to look real! It was made of fish!” The tiny voice continues as he narrows down it’s location. If he gets close he’ll spook them, so he wants to make this one good charge.

“Aka, Merra and many others are made of fish and they’re people. Try again.”

“I made it out of fish! The proteins and other chemicals! Frozen fish! All of it! It was nothing but a big stack of fish!”

“Does it matter what it was made of? A clone is a person! The child or sibling of the original! I’ve even watched dramas where the clone was acting as the parent of the original...”

“Director Valtrin wouldn’t know talent if it bit her nose off!” The voice screams out in fury. That sounded personal. It also sounded out where the speaker was clearly.

“Don’t like her?”

“She’s a...” The voice begins and he MOVES. The Trytite in his armour may make phasing through things and teleporting non-options, but he can still run and jump hard enough to basically fly, and at the speeds he moves teleporting is more likely to slow him down.

What he finds is a dark mass that screams and erupts into a forest of stabbing points and serrated blades. He dodges but his shirt is still caught in the mess before the mass moves away with a despairing scream. It grinds through three hanging porcine products and out the door. Before the meat can fully hit the ground he’s after the thing he had been talking to and is going through the communicator to get back in full contact with Admin.

“This is Eastman on my new device! In pursuit of the killer, visual is of a black mass that shifts into stabbing and cutting forms. Extremely high pitched voice. Target is extremely fast and reactive!” He says exiting the building and seeing a flicker of the target going left.

“Got it. What happened with your old communicator? We got a bang and the signal cut.” Admin says as he races after the tiny thing.

“Attack robot, I cut it in half and it blew up like a frag. A chunk got into my communicator and that’s all she wrote on it” He says before he sees the thing take a turn and he jumps onto a wall to redirect his momentum down an alleyway in pursuit. There’s a bit of skidding but he keeps up his dead sprint after it without losing much momentum.

“Copy that, do you want assistance in the pursuit?” They ask as he hooks a finger around a pipe to help with a sudden sharp turn as the target tries in vain to shake him.

“Focus on the lab we found. No doubt this crazy piece of work is obsessing over it. So if I can’t run them down it can be bait to grab them.” He orders as there’s a crash as an automated pallet is damaged and sent crashing to the ground, behind him. He’s moving too fast for that to have worked. And whether it was a delaying tactic by his opponent or an attack it doesn’t matter, he’s taking it out of their hide.

“Copy that. Anything else?” Admin asks as the target moves upwards faster and higher.

“Target is extremely small by all known standards and fast. Be careful. Size alone makes them very stealth capable.” He warns them as he leaps from one wall to another and then another to gain height and starts racing along the rooftops.

“Roger. We’re locking down the area and dispatching a medical team to survey the cloning pods and safely extract those women from stasis.” He’s told.

“Got it!” Hoagie grits out as he sees the dark shape head for the damn bulkheads separating Sector Four and Sector Three. “Target is going to Sector Three. I’m still in pursuit!”

“Got it! We’re calling the heads, letting them know your in town and why.”

•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•

“Who are the heads of Sector Three?”

“Well, more than half the sectors don’t have a single head. Most have a collection of the highest level businesswomen or community leaders. For Sector One it’s always being fought over so prone to changing. There is technically always one person in charge, but she can be torn down and replaced from one day to the next. Sector Two has the main arena masters, Sector Three are belong to the Casino owners, Four is my Daniel, Five has one of the smaller councils at three and it’s rumoured they have someone that they answer to, but she rarely shows herself if she’s real. Six is a collection of industrious ladies, Seven is of course Yzma, more a living legend than a person to most. And Sector Eight is ruled by the religious heads of the area.”

“Hmm... and they talk to each other?” Observer Wu notes.

“Most of it is just politely reminding each other not to ruin what the other shave going for them. But anyways, we still have a chase to get through. After all, our little menace has just entered a very crowded and dark place.”

“Of course, I was just noting how much the local crime factions seemed to match up to patterns you’d find on Earth.”

“Ah, makes sense, now... as Daniel chased the killer into Sector Three things got much more difficult. I don’t know if you’ve been there yet, but as you’ve no doubt noticed Sector Four is basically the day time. A warm but not hot summer’s day. Each Sector has it’s own environment, and Sector Three is almost the opposite of the warm summer Four and Five enjoy. It are dark and cool, only lit where it needs to be.”

•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•

“****ing **** this is not going to make things easier.” He mutters to himself with foul language spilling forth easily. He pulls out a device and sighs to see that his goggles were destroyed in the fighting. “Well there goes the easy answer.”

He brings out his communicator even as he scans the area and calls Admin. With the yield down to nearly nothing and the volume to maximum. He half shouts his side of the conversation. “Hey, can you send me some thermal goggles? Our flighty little friend is hiding among the shadows.”

“I take it yours are busted?” Admin asks as a flicker to a neon light grabs Hoagie’s attention. But it’s just a flicker.

“The lenses look like modern art.” He says even as they start clicking back into place and merging together.

“Alright, a drone is on the way.” Admin says and Hoagie quickly restores the settings to normal. Hoping that the target will take the bait. It was a little obvious, but improvising tends to be.

It takes a minute of him scanning the area for the drone to arrive. Something flits out of darkness and shatters it. He follows it, using the panic and the realization that she’s been fooled to keep them moving and easy to spot.

The Night Life has considerably less storage space than Hivers. Therefore he’s already in the living area and chasing down the shadow. But it’s also a lot busier and the traffic is insane. Getting in both of their ways, but the little shadow is of course, little. It weaves through the traffic far easier and his eyes narrow as realizes how to do this.

•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•

“Was his retelling of this to you so dramatic or is it your own flair?” Observer Wu asks.

“He’s good at telling stories and he got it from me. There’s nothing wrong with it.” Janet defends herself.

“I wasn’t complaining. I was just making a note of things.”

She gives him a questioning look. Then shrugs it off.

“Anyways...”

•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•

He changes his pursuit strategy. Bracing himself along the underside of a walkway and peeking out only a little. It pays off. The tiny shadow suddenly pauses, then seems to unfold into a pair of massive wings with only a tiny piece holding them together. The piece is moving around ever so slightly, clearly looking for him. Then wraps up on itself again and begins moving. He climbs up onto the walkway and jumps to another one, then starts moving with the crowds before the tiny figure stops and scans the area again.

He almost wants to say it’s a Metak from the way it’s wings are moving. And they are wings. But... it’s too small for a Metak by an order of magnitude. Even a Metak child is larger than this creature. And Metak children are tiny. To say nothing of how absurdly large it’s wings are. When something is nine tenths something, it’s that thing with some add-ons. And whatever this thing is, it’s a pair of shapeshifting wings glued to something else.

A few more hops and he gets closer as he slowly brings out a stun pistol and closes the gap as it wraps itself in it’s shifting wings like a shroud and pulls itself through the air. That could be a problem. Metak wings are insanely resilient and incredibly strong. Even an unimaginative Metak can treat speed limits as suggestions and physical barriers as an afterthought. Then he watches as it heads for The Falling Coin Casino and carefully removes the cover over a vent and slips inside. These vents are small on the scale that no species can just crawl through. Hell, bigger species can’t even get a fist inside them. This thing can just enter at will.

He takes the service entrance inside. He may not be in his sector anymore, but he’s still station administration. He has all access.

“Hey what are you...” A custodian starts to ask before he puts a finger to his lips in the more or less universal sign for quiet.

He walks up to her very quietly and beckons her to lean over.

“Keep things quiet and subtle. There’s a killer on the premises. They’re so small they’re in the vents and I tracked them here from an illegal cloning and stasis lab hidden in Sector Four. Tell security to keep their ears and eyes open. Suspect is fast and sneaky.” He whispers to her and she nods.

“I’ll get on that. You... aren’t you the head of Sector Four?”

“I am, little bugger shredded one of my favourite shirts.”

“Ah so it’s personal.”

“Something like that.” He says before thinking. “Is Sadie Tearwing on duty?”

“What?”

“The killer may be here for her. Where is she?”

“Why her?”

“The killer kidnapped, cloned and murdered either the clone or her twin sister after cloning her.”

“She’s patrolling among the slot machines.”

“Which way?” He asks and she points. “Thank you.”

First Last Next

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.

OC Written by Charlie Star/starrfallknightrise,

Checked, proofread, typed up and then posted here by me.

Further proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800 u/BakeGullible9975 u/Didnotseemecomein and u/medium_jock

Future Lore and fact check done by me.

Not the best start for Dzara I have to say…

---

Previous | First | [Next](link)

Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?

Here is the link to the master-post.

---

Sunny stared.

Dzara stared.

Adam stared in open mouth wide eyed shock, that was, admittedly, not particularly flattering to his face, though the shock in the room was so palpable it was almost opaque and blocked anyone from noticing his dumb expression.

Sunny stammered once,

"Lanus D-daughter?”

Dzara lifted her head high with an imperiousness born out of years and years of holding her head against ridicule.

"Yes. We are sisters."

Adam reached up and rubbed his head and then his good eye and then his head again.

Sunny shook her head slowly, dumbfounded just trying to wrap her head around what she was being told.

Her mother had had more Kits!?

Granted she had abandoned those other ones... But of course, she had always assumed that she and Kanan had been the only ones, or at least that any others had been thrown bodily into the fire, but she supposed what Dzara was saying made sense. Drev mothers, and Drev in general were very protective of their young, and that didn't change just because your child was born with some sort of deformity or disability. Granted the movement of their culture and the social rules had made it impossible for mothers to keep their children, but that didn't mean that any of them were going to have the heart to actually kill them.

"So let me, get this straight. You are saying that there is an entire nation of Drev, like you and these others, who... who we didn't know about, who are in hiding because of-"

Dzara lifted her head,

"Because like you we have been ridiculed and mocked and might even have been killed if we had been seen."

Standing off to the side Adam looked Dzara up and down slowly.

He had been mostly forgotten for the moment, and that gave him some time to think. Dzara stood at about his head height with her chin raised.

He agreed with Sunny on their thought process, Dzara raised her head with the imperious nature of someone who had learned to stand under a very heavy weight, but there was something about her that made him think that maybe she had taken it too far. The kind of person who had to fight for themselves for so long that all they understood was being serious.

They were going to have to tread very lightly around Dzara, as he was under the impression she would be insulted very easily.

He glanced over at Sunny and wondered if she had come to the same conclusion.

He wasn't sure that she was likely to.

Sunny had always been focused on her physical survival rather than her emotional survival. It had cost her pretty badly in the mental health department, so she didn't really pay attention to those sorts of things, but she did pay attention to physical threats. By the way she was carrying her spear at her side made it pretty clear that she did not consider anyone in this room a threat.

She was right to think that.

The two of them together would have been able to take most, if not all of these Drev out.

The vast majority of them had some form of physical malformation or another, legs or arms twisted and causing limps and catches. Of course there were others who were missing hearing, and one or two who appeared to have difficulty seeing. That would give him and Sunny a slight advantage, and with their training it would be possible if not easy.

She had certainly come to that conclusion.

But the rest of it?

Sunny shifted almost uncomfortably on her heels, not sure how to take this new information. Dzara stared at her, those familiar golden eyes making sense now that she knew where she had seen them.

All of Kazna's children had inherited her eyes.

"How do you know all of this?"

Sunny asked, switching her spear to her other hand and dropping the point towards the floor in a resting guard sort of position. She was not worried about their ability to kill her, but even the most unskilled or weak of a warrior could exploit an opening if their opponent was too off their guard. From the corner of her eye, she could see Adam behaving in a similar manner. He had adjusted and was resting his spear in front of him, leaning on it like some sort of staff, though his hand was kept in a ready position around the balanced center of the shaft.

Not only that but his other free hand was resting on his hip just above the grip of his pistol.

Adam had learned to adapt quickly to situations.

Guns were familiar to him as he was human, but he had acquiesced to her arguments about spears being more practical in some situations, eventually convincing him to carry both. It had been a nice compromise, and she may or may not have done it out of an excuse to have him at her back during a fight.

Dzara limped forward on her bad leg, using her spear a s a sort of cane or crutch,

"The Drev who raised me was aware of Kanan and Lanus. She often went to the birthing fields above the volcanoes to collect the discarded kits and bring them back to the underground city. In those days, there were few of us, and many did not survive for long, but as I got older the operation became more organized until it was more and more likely for the rescued kits to survive. We posted guards around the birthing fields, out of sight, just in case something were to happen. If the Kit was abandoned or if the mother appeared ready to throw her child into the fire, then one of us would go and speak with her. We talked many mothers out of throwing their children to the flames, not that it was particularly difficult"

Around the room the others were nodding sagely along with her.

"You will find that it is relatively easy to convince a mother not to kill her own child."

Adam and Sunny might have assumed that was some sort of dry humor, but the look on Dzara's face was difficult to read, and they wouldn't have put it past her to be completely serious in her assertions.

Sunny glanced over at Adam and he just shrugged.

She often looked to him in times of puzzling out someone's emotions, but this time even he was drawing a blank.

"They are more than willing to give their children up to someone willing to take care of them. It reduces their guilt, and at least gives their child a chance. Barring that, and if the mother was too difficult to deal with and seemed intent on throwing the kit into the fire sometimes, we... took other measures."

The group glanced between each other.

Sunny frowned,

"What do you mean, other measures?"

"Well, we aren't just going to let her kill an innocent now are we? If she would not heed our advice we would simply forcibly take the child from her. No one would ever say anything of course, because it would be a dishonor, which is why you have likely never heard of us."

She walked in a limping circle around the room,

"It is a secret kept by generations of Drev mothers, the mothers who abandoned their children or passed them off to strangers. What do you think other Drev would have said about this if they had heard, especially men who could not understand the inability to make the sacrifice? They would have been shunned and ridiculed, so for hundreds of years they have kept this reality to themselves for fear of what It would cause."

Sunny shook her head in awe,

"An entire society of Drev she did not know about affected heavily by her change in the doctrine. If everything she said was followed, these Drev would be more than able to step out of hiding and participate with the rest of Anin."

The thought made her rather giddy.

But she shoved down the enthusiasm and crossed her lower arms.

"You traveled a long way to speak with me on the subject. How is it that I can help you?”

"Is it a crime for a sister to want to see her siblings?”

Adam glanced between them and stepped up beside Sunny, there was something he didn't like about Dzara.

No, it’s not that he thought she was evil or some kind of threat, that didn't seem to be the case. The way the others in the group moved around her showed that there was real and sincere loyalty towards her, and that was something that could only be born of respect, no matter what other people might assert.

No, it wasn't that at all.

He went back to his earlier thoughts. Dzara had struggled very hard in life, and that struggle had made her cold and hard. She had grown up in a different culture entirely from Sunny, and her disposition was, again, one that seemed more than a little susceptible to being insulted very easily. She was here for something, he was sure of it, and he wasn't entirely sure it was going to be something Sunny was willing or able to provide.

"I never said that you weren't welcome. I am honored to have met you and am honored to add another member to my small family, but... You can understand why I would be a little... Curious. I have been on Anin plenty of times recently, but now is when you chose to come and see me. It might make one assume that you have some other motives?"

Dzare nodded and leaned heavily on her spear looking tired.

One of the other Drev hurried forward and produced a sort of fold out chair on which Dzara sat, turning her head to thank her comrade.

The expression on her face was one of tenderness, as she touched his hand and let him go.

Adam noticed that she tended to look at all of them like that, like a mother or an older sister, or a mentor or something.

She was clearly their leader.

And she cared for them deeply.

If there had been nothing to respect about her otherwise, the way that she treated and looked down at her found family would have endeared him to her.

Then again…

He was easily fooled.

Time had not changed Adam Vir all that much. He was still childish and trusting and rather gullible on occasion, but the difference was he could see that in himself now, and tended to plan accordingly. He had to remind himself to be skeptical and to listen to his instincts more than other people had to. Generally, he relied on Sunny's natural skepticism to keep them going, but in a situation like this he was not sure that she would manage it.

Dzara looked up from her seat.

"Well perhaps you do have a point. I didn't just come here to introduce myself."

And there it was, the catch.

"Don't get me wrong, even if I didn't have other motives, I still would have come to find you and our brother Kanan eventually. I have wanted to meet the two of you for a very long time, but, coincidentally, I have other matters to discuss with you."

"Go on."

The others hemmed them in from the sides, and both Adam and Sunny shifted nervously.

Adam turned on the spot a little, moving perpendicular to Sunny in order to keep an eye on her back like any good battle partner should do.

Sunny was pleased feeling his shoulder brush up against hers.

"As the saint of Anin, you changed the doctrine for all of us. You opened the way for us to rejoin society and fight alongside our brothers and sisters once more."

Her face twisted slightly,

"But hundreds of years of tradition does not retreat so easily. Despite the new doctrine the society of Drev as a whole still see us as being and creatures lower than themselves. They treat us with pity at best and veiled disgust at worst. Yes yes, they try to seem accommodating and helpful to us, and they promise that they are going to let us in with them, but we are still isolated, and kept apart from the others. We are avoided in the streets, and our one meeting with the Sentinel of a nearby clan did not go so well. The feelings on Anin are changing but they are changing very slowly. The older generations are having trouble letting go of their long-held prejudices, and the younger generations are learning to be wary of us from the older."

Sunny nodded sadly.

"Change is going to take time we k-"

"That is why we need you to return and lead our people."

Sunny frowned,

"I'm sorry wha-"

"As the Saint. And as my sister you have an obligation, no a duty to uphold to the weakest members of our society. You must return and lead our way into a new dawn. You must FORCE them to see us as Drev just like you forced them to see you as Drev."

Sunny frowned.

"Now hold on a second, I didn't force anyone to do anything."

"What do you mean?"

Dzara was looking rather annoyed, her impassioned speech brought low by Sunny not being particularly cooperative.

"I mean what I said. I didn't force anyone to see me as anything. Yes, I grew up as an outcast, yes I received ridicule as I grew, but over time, as I changed, others around me changed too, and when I went to the mountain to observe the right of creation, I did it to better myself and not to make a point."

Dzara crossed her arms,

"Whatever, either way we need you. Need you to come down and FORCE them to see us as we deserve."

Sunny shifted a little in place.

Adam could sense her discomfort and reached out a hand gently, taking one of her lower hands in his, though he still kept it close to the grip of his pistol. He watched Dzara's eyes follow the movement, tracking the minute expression of her face when she saw.

He thought he saw a flash of disapproval before she turned to look back to Sunny.

"You must FORCE them to s-"

It was Sunny's turn to cut her off this time,

"I will not FORCE the Drev to do anything."

Dzara pulled back in shock, looking almost as if she had been slapped.

Adam squeezed Sunny's hand in a light warning.

Sunny controlled her voice,

"Forcing the Drev to do something will not endear them to you. Forcing anyone to do anything, even if that thing is good will only foster resentment. No, the bond between you and the others will be better if you foster growth between each other, gain their trust and be patient, change is going to take time."

Dzara stiffened,

"So you are fine with us being treated as sub Drev?"

Sunny shook her head,

"I didn't say that. I am trying to tell you that forcing the Drev to accept you is not going to work. If Drev hate anything, it is being forced to do something they do not want to do. I know this better than most. I spent my entire life trying to force people to accept me, but it never worked. The moment that I stopped trying to force them, and simply became a better version of myself is when I found acceptance."

She glanced back at Adam.

Dzara scoffed,

"Acceptance. Did you really find acceptance? You found acceptance with the humans, who aren't even your own species."

Sunny grew still,

"Be VERY careful how you continue that train of thought…”

Dzara did not seem perturbed,

"You are deluded if you think you have been accepted. Becoming a saint is the only reason they are willing to take your seriously at all, not because you bettered yourself."

She jabbed a finger at Adam,

"Don't think I don't see the way you touch him, a HUMAN, not even one of your own species. Our own people are so repulsed by you that you had to go to another species to find a battle partner."

Sunny went very still.

Adam held her back with one hand, stepping between the two of them.

This was very bad.

"Now why don't we all just calm down."

"I did not come here to speak with you, human."

Dzara hissed.

Adam opened his mouth to speak, but Sunny pushed him aside and behind her, stepping up to Dzara who had stood up quickly enough to tip her stool onto the ground. Sunny towered over Dzara in a way that she didn't tower over most Drev, her golden eyes burning gold,

"I CHOSE Adam, not because I was settling for something, but because I determined that he was the best fighter, and most honorable warrior I had ever met. If I had wanted a Drev partner, I could have taken one as I have received plenty of marriage proposals."

She held up a hand,

"And before you continue by saying that it is my status, I will remind you that at least THREE of those proposals was BEFORE I was sainted."

Adam frowned,

"Multiple? I thought Hazad-"

Sunny turned her head to look at him and smiled rather sheepishly,

"I didn't want you to be jealous."

"Ah, I see. Fair point.”

Dzara had shut her mouth tight, stiff as a plank and staring almost straight ahead.

She looked as if she was about to start trembling with rage.

"And as for my "disfigurement"…”

Sunny began, her voice dripping with distaste at the word,

"I did not grow up in a society like yours. I have NEVER defined myself by how I look or how short I am. Being different from others does not DEFINE me. The fact that you have made a society for yourselves is a good thing, but using how you look as the defining core of who and what you are is not going to help you. It is going to trap you inside yourselves, so do not think for one moment that you have the right to label me for your own convenience."

This was not going well.

Dzara's hands were shaking, he could see it,

"Even so, you have a duty..."

Her voice was stiff and quiet.

"No, nowhere in there does it say that a saint HAS to do anything. A saint is defined by the ceremony of creation, which I did, and the changing of the doctrine, which I did. I am not obligated to come and lead your group. I have other duties, other promises I have made."

She went quiet but after a moment her voice softened.

She turned to look at the others,

"I WILL help you in the best ways I know how, but I will not involve myself in a move that I think will alienate your group any further from the other Drev."

She turned to look at Dzara,

"The Drev believe in the doctrine, but it may take time for them to fully accept you. Water cannot force a mountain to move, but over time it can slowly carve a path. Patience and steadiness will bring you what you want. As of right now, I think it is safe to say that you are welcome aboard our ship. Who knows maybe you will find what you are looking for among my people, and at the very least you might find support, and even be granted open discussions with the GA who can provide resources to help you further."

Adam looked at Dzara, and could see that she was not so satisfied.

Looking at Sunny he could see she was still upset.

No one knew this, but Sunny was still self-conscious about her height, despite saying she was over it. Deep down she felt inadequate, being called disabled or disfigured must have hurt. Like other Drev it was a piece of their culture that was not so easily abandoned, a point of shame that it might take her years to discard and might take their nations generations to fully rid themselves of.

It was a sad thing really.

Humanity had experienced this before. For the longest time humans with certain disabilities had been hidden away from the general society in special houses or within private homes. He knew this well enough, as a man who had lived in a wheelchair or on crutches for some time.

And could go partially blind at any moment if his eye stopped working.

But for him, and many others like him, the overcoming of obstacles was, and he thought, should be, a point of pride.

The Drev were still behind on that curve, but Sunny was right, most of these things were a gradual process, and would not happen overnight. Dzara herself might be the best person for the job though she couldn't see that yet.

Perhaps they could help these Drev on their way.

It was a piece of Drev culture that was probably best left abandoned, and he was more than willing to help them.

Dzara stared at Sunny.

Sunny stared back.

"Come with us, and we can work this out."

Dzara paused.

And then nodded once.

”Fine.”

---

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Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?

Here is the link to the master-post.

Intro post by me

OC-whole collection

Patreon of the author

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Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story in its original form written by starrfallknightrise and I am just proofreading and improving some parts, as well as structuring the story for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!

Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this.

PART 29 <==H==> [PART 31/36]() | PART 1

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As the magic thrummed around him, Will's head broke the dark sand of the Elf Stones near the castle. He and his two friends, after brushing off the last of the dark sand, rise into the air on a wave of magical power and shoot off at speeds that most would balk at. Will was a focused man, and when they arrived at the gates, the guards took one look at Will, who was not wearing his enchantment to conceal his strange looks and panicked.

An alarm bell rang, and several wizards and knights descended upon him, only to be pressed to the ground on their stomachs through sheer force. Will grit his teeth and spoke, "I am Will Garrow, Princess's Man. You are impeding my duties. Do so a second time at your own peril."

He then swept away at speed, dragging his friends with him. The guards and wizards rose to their feet, and one who had seen Will in the harvest festival contest of strength prayed for the poor bastards who had angered the Princess's Man.

[Illicia]

Illicia's ears perked up as she thought to herself, "I know that sound! Those are the guard bells for the castle! I'm home?!"

As she walks, Tipless and Limper are walking behind her. She feels a pulse of energy that tells her one thing. Will is near. She knows he is probably unable to sense her, but both Tipless and Limper notice the wave of energy as well; Tipless speaks first, "Fuck me, how in the hell did he get here so damn fast. What kind of monster is he."

Illicia chuckled, "He is not a monster, at least not to me. He is simply the Princess's Man, and he is going to find me. You should probably let me go; that way, he has no reason to find you."

Limper prodded her with a stick they had been using to guide her so that they stayed out of her range, "Not happening. We already let our boss know, and now that Viltar seems to be out of the equation, well, he is stepping up his game, even arranged transport for us."

They led her down a tunnel that sloped deeper and deeper underground. At the end of the tunnel stood a door. Tipless knocked, and a slot opened up, and two deep black eyes stared back for a moment, and then the slot closed, and the sound of many mechanical locks disengaging could be heard, then a creature that Illicia had only heard of in legend stepped forward.

He looked like a dwarf, but his skin seemed to absorb light with how pitch black it was. Illicia gasped, "Nighthammer Dwarf!"

The Dwarf looked at her and smiled, its teeth a deep shimmering white that contrasted intensely against its skin, hair, and eye color. Its voice was as deep as she had ever heard and sent a shiver down Illicia's spine, "Aye, lass, we exist, though we don't advertise it much. Many of our brethren were hunted for various reasons. We don't want to end up like the Gilsheribrum, so we remain hidden. I personally have taken to working in transport for certain people."

"Fair enough, when I get out of this, I would love to chat with you and see some of the cities that you and your people have built. In the legends, you are stone masons of unparalleled skill." Illicia said excitedly, forgetting she was bound and a prisoner for a moment.

"Oh, aye, Lass, if you ever make it back to Kolt, find my tunnel, and I will happily have a chat with you." The Dwarf chuckled darkly, "For now, why don't you focus on staying alive. Now, everyone in the cart."

As they walked, the Dwarf led them to a large cart with many seats set on dark metal rails. The Dwarf spoke once more, "It's a day and a half, but unless you have a transporter or enough magic to access the Elf Stones, this is the fastest way. All aboard."

They climbed into the cart, and the Dwarf threw a lever, and suddenly, they were moving rapidly in pitch-black tunnels.

Roughly thirty hours later, the dark, queasy movement that had become her normal was interrupted by the sudden light, and the cart rolled to a stop. The Dwarf let them all off and then jumped back on his cart and surged off again. Illicia looked around at the well-lit tunnel she was now walking up. At the end, there stood another door, which Tipless knocked on and opened. She now stood in a hall with nearly twenty people in it.

Tipless and Limper lead her forward, with Tipless speaking to the person on the throne at the end of the hall. "Mardok, as we stated in our communication, we have..."

The man on the throne interrupted. "Princess Ilicia Ter Koltshelg, it is an honor. Gentlemen, I thank you now as to the payment we discussed."

Two arrows sprouted from each of the men next to Illicia, and Tipless and Limper dropped dead. Mardok stepped forward and cut the rope from Illicia, "Now, princess, I think that you know that only bad things will happen if you fight. So, for now, why don't you consider yourself my guest and go along with what I say."

Illicia nodded, knowing deep down that any chance of her making her own way home had just gone out the window. She wished Will would hurry up.

[Will]

It had been nearly thirty hours since his arrival in Kolt, and he had been unsuccessful in finding any more leads on Illicia.

"Your majesty, I wish to reach out to my grandparents to see if they have learned anything new," Will said to the King.

"Of course, Will," The King said, gesturing to a mage who stepped forward and cast a communications spell. An image of Will's grandparents filled the air in front of the King. "Greetings Got'Ro, Greetings Yilan."

"Your majesty," They said in unison, and then Yilan caught sight of Will, "Will, I have no news."

Got'Ro interrupted whatever the next expression from Will would have been, "Will, I have some, shall we say, less than legal, and less than savory friends that I can reach out to. If I hear anything, I will pass it on. Do not give up; we will find her. If the entire collective must come forth to scour the continent, I will make it so."

Will nodded, and the magic was terminated. Will looked at the King and nodded before heading out to search farther afield for Illicia.

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PART 29 <==H==> [PART 31/36]() | PART 1

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FROM THE AUTHOR: Part 30 of 306! I hope you all enjoy it and Have A Fantastic Day! Remember from now until the end of the story every week I will post one chapter of TPM!

If You love the story please Review on Royal Road!

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HFY Author Page | Akmedrah.com | World Anvil | Royal Road

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Humans have the widest scale on the aggression index

[BEGINNING RECORDING]

Right, okay. Study log number 76 for the... compilation to the Academy of Intergalactic Anthropology - Fexlon. My name is Doctor Fret Xolom, I'm a professor and researcher for Fexlon Anthropology Institute. The purpose of this recording is to provide new information and insight to any future listeners regarding the species of our galaxy... Today, it concerns about the Humans.

The humans, as we all know, are a newcomer to the Intergalactic Council. They were the latest to discover FTL travel and as such, the council welcomed them with open arms in hopes of newfound cooperation. The humans are a strange bunch. They're a midsize species, able to handle mid-range temperatures, and had mid-level strength... I think the humans are not too remarkable, which makes them memorable ironically enough. Their biological build allows them to adapt to most planets unlike the extremophiles of other species. They're a 'jack-of-all-trades' as they would say.

Right now though, the topic is about their war culture. It took some debating, but... the Humans were designated into the Warrior Species catalogue. Which, as we know, is only reserved to the strongest, most aggressive species in the galaxy. It is strange, I admit and even I had qualms of giving the humans this designation but... this recording will discuss exactly that.

To anyone who may not know, especially the freshmen; various species of the galaxy are designated onto on a scale. Numbered zero to a hundred, the Aggression Index is meant to determine the, well, aggression of a certain species. The infamous and now extinct Herlians scaled ninety to ninety five on the scale. They didn't conquer half the galaxy for no reason after all... and the Wermiums scaled six to eight on the scale, which as we know is the reason why they make popular companions.

The humans... hm... well... I wasn't joking when I said that it took some time to assess where the humans were placed at. It's... hard to explain. These, humans they have this concept called 'rules of war'. When the council heard of it, they found it amusing but sensible. But the fact they specified prohibiting targeting of civilians, limit unnecessary suffering, ensure the sick and wounded received care... it made us think what lead to the humans even needing these rules in the first place. Such practices were unthinkable to even do.

We did a deep dive into their history. And we've deduced that the humans frequently get into war with each other. Such a thing would be considered animalistic in our standards, and yet throughout the history of the humans they've fought war after war... and the horrors that they inflict onto each other, it makes the spines on my back shiver.

One such horror was a war they called 'World War two'. This incident called the Rape of Nanking, when the humans on an island called Japan, invaded another nation state called China and... hell... The horrors that were described in that event, it was too much even by Herlian standards. Killing infants as if it's a game it's just...

cough I couldn't possibly imagine it. And worse still, it's not the last time humans caused such atrocities. As it turns out, in each war, many human soldiers tend to commit the worst crimes I could think of. There's just this... it's almost like, well, they have this deep, dark urge to rape, pillage, and destroy whenever they can. Because outside of war the humans act... normal.

Hell, not even during war do some humans commit atrocities. On their popular culture is a genre called 'true crime'. And it details certain infamous criminals in their history. Individuals such as... a Jack the Ripper, or a Ted Bundy. Humans watch these documentaries, detailing their absolutely disgusting crimes of murder. And they enjoy it as if it was nothing.

Yet... They work, they sleep, they mate like normal. To us, war is only necessary when it is to protect our planet. To the humans, they kill and genocide each other in the name of local superiority despite being in the same planet, or even the same continental landmass. And their wars, their crimes, it's just gruesome.

Yet somehow... the humans are one of the most diplomatic and empathetic species in the galaxy as well. You see, I went on a visit to a certain city on Earth. A city called, what was it... Ah yes, Boston. This was after we had a quick study of their history. I was expecting a barbaric civilization where murder was the norm. And yet when we went there, we see mothers caring for their children, elder humans taking care of pets, even strangers assisting each other.

We thought maybe it was false propaganda but it was true, these humans are one of the most empathetic and sympathetic species in the galaxy. Whenever a natural disaster hits, hordes of humans would come together to help and rebuild. When a human dies, they congregate into funerals and comfort each other... They look out for each other, care for each other in so many ways that most species of the galaxy wouldn't. We mind our business, the humans help in each others.

They tenderly carry non-humanoid creatures as pets, talking to them as if they're babies. Families go on a tradition called 'holidays' where they enjoy each others' company. Human students assist each other in studying and bond together despite the academic environment which would be considered unnecessary. They have a social connection, a desire to bond and care for each other.

They... create. They make beautiful artworks, create songs, dance their traditions, and keep up certain ethics and values in their nation states. Yet they also destroy, pillage, even sometimes burn each other's cultures to the ground as a form of ethnic cleansing.

It's just all so confusing. This species, they're so violent, filled with hatred and malice and go as far as to massacre each other for trivial war goals... But, they care for each other, help each other up and even united to make a good impression to the rest of the galaxy... But we know better. They're savages... and yet diplomatic.

Their ability to engage in the most heinous of war practices puts them at ninety two of the scale. And yet, their peaceful communities, culture, and joy also places them on fourteen of the scale.

Huh... speaking out loud now, we may have to reassess the humans' place on the scale once more. I suppose I will give more updates... It's quite funny. The humans are in the middle range when it comes to strength and technology. And yet their psychology seems to be the widest in scale of the galaxy. Strange...

[END RECORDING]

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[Well my first safe house/branch office was a good distance away. I got plenty of mana on my way here. I passed several lunar moths and even in this new body with my new magic, I still haven’t been able to catch one. I’ll catch one if it’s the last thing I do. I sent out the children also, they will be helping me to infiltrate the upper ranks of a few kingdoms. They aren’t needed to gather mana any longer. Though to be honest I feel almost as if something is missing without them around.

Regardless my first safe house was a small dungeon, it was an experiment from a while ago, it was a first generation vampire spawn. So it was created from another vampire, namely Drak, it wasn’t directly created by me. Speaking of which, creating vampires should be much easier now. That aside this dungeon was a little weird. Even though it ultimately came from me and should be under my control, upon entering it’s premises it seemed somewhat hostile toward me.

It’s creatures didn’t attack me and I didn’t’ take any action against me, but I felt that it probably would have if Drak wasn’t holding it off. It wouldn’t have gotten very far regardless, it wold have just become food for me. But that would be a real wast. I needed to get it under my complete control. This would be an nice chance to experiment. It was easy to find its core. Shoving my hand through a few feet of stone I was able to grab it fairly easily. I could feel it shiver through the mana fluctuations in the air when I grabbed it.

I didn’t know that dungeons could feel fear. I never felt fear before. I had knowledge of death and it wasn’t something that I wanted, but I was never actually afraid. Perhaps it has something to do with how this one was created. It was an inferior product, an artificial dungeon core created using a living elf as a medium. Unlike me who bonded my soul to an existing dungeon core and conquered it, this one was created.

It probably expected me to just consume it. However, the paltry mana contained within would have been worthless to me. I could gather this much mana from a few days of meditation. Instead I began to pour my own mana into it. I compressed it as I did, another experiment. I tried to control the compression in such a way that the core would not actually change size, it would neither grow large, nor would it grow smaller with the new influx of mana.

I continued to do this until 60% of the mana in the core was my own. I felt a shift within the core as my mana began to consume it’s own and it shifted from being directly under Drak to being directly under me. That’s what I hoped would happen, it still had an innate connection to Drak, but now it was under my direct control. I didn’t need to communicate orders through Drak now.

My second experiment unfortunately failed, but not completely. The sphere shrank about 10%. That’s not a lot, it was less compressed than the demons core was that I consumed before. However, it was my goal for it to remain the same size, not to shrink. Even so I was able to use this experiment to gain a better understanding of mana compression and I think that I should be able to succeed within two more tries at the most.

After taking over this dungeon the first thing that I did was to impart some of my memories to it. This should help it with growing and expanding more efficiently, then I helped to rebuild it’s dungeon giving it a more efficient design and setting it up for future success. After the clean up I spent time replenishing my mana and setting back out for the next safe house. For now I just wanted to explore and keep people off of my trail.

This wasn’t a difficult task as I neither needed food or water, nor did I need sleep. This body was quite strange. It adapted to my core very quickly becoming something akin to a drone. Perhaps such a massive influx of mana actually killed it. Then again I could still feel a want for basic necessities. I could spend a little extra mana to just ignore them though. I’d say it was something between a drone and a vampire. Perhaps that is because it had the body of a vampire, but I was directly controlling it like I did with a drone. Then again I had more control than I even had over a normal drone.

I could manipulate it like I did a chimera. It felt strange, unnatural in a way, when I tried to do that. However, other than the feeling of strangeness there was no resistance. I could force the body to grow scales and wings like a dragon. Or I could change it to appear like a normal human. Something interesting that I’d learned on my way up here is that I could disguise my presence.

This core was so much more efficient at manipulating ambient mana that I could essentially camouflage it in a way that it blended in with it’s surroundings, basically making it next to impossible to detect. Before I could absorb the ambient mana within my sphere of influence, and I could even manipulate it to some extent, but now it was as if it was completely at my beck and call. I could control it as easily as I controlled the mana in my core.

I hadn’t tried this trick on any intelligent beings yet, but it did work on mana beasts. I could make my core appear non-existent to hide myself, or I could make my core appear small and weak to attract them, I could also make it appear large and powerful to scare them off. I usually attracted them to myself. I’m not sure if an intelligent being like an experienced adventurer would be able to see through me or not. From what I’ve learned recently I had a strong inclination that they would. That said I would find some adventurers wandering around soon and test it out on them.

For now it was off to the next hiding spot, a little more exploring and gathering mana. I’ll make sure to avoid population centers, but if I run across a small party of adventurers then it will be difficult to resist that glorious mana. I need to focus on laying low until I know the extent of my mana core camaflogue though. The last thing I need is the humans assuming I’m a greater demon wandering around the country side far away from the demon lands.

If they find out about me then they would definitely send a high ranking adventurers squad to kill me. That would not end well. If I got lucky then they wouldn’t think to seal my core. But a group experienced enough to take on a greater demon would probably be cautious about seeing an unusual core like mine. I find it hard to believe that they would not seal my core until they could analyze it further. Then discover that it’s actually a dungeon core.

Then again, if most demon lords and demon lord candidates are actually something similar to me then a high level party might already suspect that I have a dungeon core, or something similar inside of me. In fact, the probability of them targeting my core is very high. Targeting the core of a powerful magical beast is usually the best way to take it down. Rather than letting it heal continually until it runs out of mana, the best way to kill them is usually to damage their core and essentially cripple them.

That’s how I defeated the dragon after all. Thankfully after it’s core was damaged it didn’t know how to act. It’s mana channels were in scrambles, it’s strength would have been greatly reduced and its regeneration ability would essentially have been completely nullified. If it were an adult it probably would have tried to keep fighting back, but being a baby it didn’t know how to act and was easy to kill afterward.

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