Epic 253 (Patreon)

I survived the MRI only to land in the dentist for a chipped tooth. Soon I'll just be a brain in a jar connected to a keyboard... ah well!

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https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FQFPYRa2VhqD-tg9mQcGFg2eoBZb-As3XP2qnVhQcVM/edit?usp=sharing

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Delta squinted, shaping the oblong sand tower with careful mental hands, the grains shifting under her control.

Her majestic palace would soon be complete! She just needed to add a moat. Every good landmark had a moat.

Delta paused, thinking that she didn’t have a moat. Just a river, an ocean, a lake… but not a moat. Something she would need to solve.

“It’s a good hedgehog,” Fran said lazily, leaning back against his mount, the pig acting like a giant snoring pillow. Delta looked down at the castle she had tried to make and squinted.

The many towers did look like needles, and it was more curved to one side… 

“It’s a castle,” she protested, and Fran paused, moving a whetstone over his spear for a moment, more a habit than any real need. He stared at the sand castle she had made out of his arena sand and said nothing for three seconds.

“It’s good,” he repeated, not committing to anything further and looked away as if his spear needed sudden focus. Delta let out a sigh and poked the castle, letting it collapse back into a mound.

“It’s fine. I have system errors from my sketches and anytime I try to make something without Nu or Prim to help, it comes out… off,” she waved his guilty expression away without any heat.

“You’re better in every other area. Making monsters, designing floors, fighting ancient evils, and more,” he said, sounding far more serious now and Delta could accept the compliment.

Some of those things he said were artistic if she squinted.

“Can’t be that good if Alpha wants to run off,” she said, half-joking, but winced as the words came out a little softer than she intended and Fran frowned before he put his spear down to sit forward, his posture all business now.

“You could convince him to stay. Alpha is a sensible lad and wouldn’t go if you had good reasons,” he pointed out, and he made it so simple that it was hard to look him in the eye.

“You’re right, but I don’t have a ‘good’ reason other than worry. He’s been here longer than me in this world, maybe not as long as Beta or Gamma, but he’s endured a lot on his own. I just think about how he wants to go to the Shattered Left. It’s filled with warring gods and people who speak a dozen languages because Sis went Tower of Babel on them,” Delta said, and Fran seemed to grasp the reference.

Or he was just nodding to be polite.

“I’m worried he might get attacked. That other gods might try to use or attack him because I became a goddess and sucking up this ‘limited god’ space,” she sighed, covering her face as if she could hold back her feelings.

“But he wishes to go to study and ‘fix’ this divine system, yes? That’s a noble goal,” Fran finished.

“I could challenge him. Show him that he lacks power. We might struggle, but for now, I am stronger than him until he masters his powers. I can delay him,” he offered.

“This is his home, not a prison,” Delta said finally and picked up some sand, watching it trickle away as it fell. “I want him to feel safe here, not think he has no choice,” she nodded, feeling the words made sense.

“I can’t leave, am I a prisoner?” Fran questioned, his strong jaw twitching. Delta blinked and her mouth opened before closing, the question hitting her for a moment.

“No, a home can be a lot of things, but it stops being one when it hurts you. If you all wanted to go outside, I’d figure a way out to let you go outside. Mana bubbles or mana lines around your waist. If you wanted to go, I’d support you,” she explained and Fran nodded as if she had proven a point.

“That’s what you need to focus on. You give choice. Most would enforce a will. You see how things might go wrong, or how us walking about might make you become seen as broken. But you don’t choose for us. That’s why Alpha will go and that’s why I will stay,” he stared, leaning back to grab his lance once more.

“You don’t want to leave?” Delta asked curiously, and he snorted.

“I endure enough fools in this arena. The idea of having to share a whole world of them makes me want to weep,” he said dryly.

“Careful, if Wynn hears you being so mean, she might faint in pleasure,” Delta said, and the goblin knight spluttered, his skin turning purple with embarrassment as he pulled his visor down.

But a question had lodged itself into Delta’s mind.

What would happen to Fran, or anyone here, if she left? If Delta, Alpha and the others somehow went home? 

What happened to the dungeon?

The question had no answers, just flashes of Silver’s dead dungeon, lifeless and filled with statues.

She shook it off, not letting the the idea taint the good mood Fran had worked hard to cultivate in her. 

“Alpha going on a trip might actually have a benefit! I can surprise him when he returns with updates to the 4th floor and maybe a new 5th one!” Delta said and Fran paused as if he had to remember the 4th floor existed.

He didn’t seem like the type of goblin to enjoy a tropical vacation, too happy to stay in his arena or the bar. But Delta suddenly had the idea of a beach party for everyone, tweaking the mana levels so people could join in! Fran in a speedo would likely tempt Wynn to join in, which would lure the Pygmies which would lure Missy, Maestro, and Lord Mushy… which would lure Devina and then…

It would be some sort of special party!

Delta bet no media had ever considered a focus on the beach for a break of pace!

“Have many even reached the 4th floor?” Fran questioned, and Delta pondered the value of a dungeon-wide newsletter, but put it to the side.

“Yep! More and more. People are resourceful, and they’re grasping the trick to Jellagon,” she said simply and began drawing in the sand.

“If they want to loot the first three floors, to any degree, they give up trying to go deeper, but if they want to see the 4th floor, they make a beeline towards it. That’s if they don’t just divert to the battlegrounds,” Delta recalled, “Jellagon even had to bring out some new hats when people showed up when he was weaker. For the most part, he just latches on to people and eats their potions before being beaten,” she added.

“What ‘rewards’ does he give?” Fran asked, maybe wondering from the perspective of one floor boss to another.

“Hats,” Delta said with a smile.

“Caps? Helmets?” Fran blinked, and Delta paused.

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“How does it look?” the fighter asked as the stone-dragon mask settled over his head, merging with the skin and seeming to become alive.

“Like a weirdo,” a woman said, the pumpkin covering her head flickering with inner light and she reached inside to retrieve a piece of toffee that restocked itself every five minutes.

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“Something like that,” Delta nodded quickly.

“So, what’s your plan for the rest of your ‘zodiac islands’? What’s the boss going to be like?” Fran questioned, and Delta’s eyes lit up, making her lean in to speak.

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The Gutrot was mottled grey, like a bloated body. Mharia stared at it then snarled, stamping it  with her stupid little fairy feet, turning the fungus to mush. 

The paste trembled, and three more caps began to emerge from the corpse of the old.

“My hatred for you is immeasurable. My loathing is unmatched. My wrath will be inevitable,” she warned the rotting things and turned with a snarl, only to freeze as in the welcoming hall, Alpha stared at her.

“Oh, it’s you. How’s your soul? Back in order?” she asked and she tried not to smile as he flinched.

But… she didn’t have the desire to torment the boy now. The Gutrot had put her in a bad mood.

“Why do you hate them?” Alpha asked and he nodded to the fungus on the wall.

“I hate everything,” Mharia said bluntly.

“Yeah, but you really hate them,” he pushed, and Mharia was surprised to see the boy’s spark, one that had been so dim before, so easily put in a bottle… now radiated like the warmth of the sun. He was also radiating far more magic than before.

Unfair creations of the Two, but it wasn’t Alpha’s fault that he was unfair.

He was merely the product of a much bigger issue.

“These things grew on the ruins of my home and bones of the ones I love. Ever felt that? The unique experience of watching a place you thought you could grow old in, protect, rule, guide, and more… become nothing but ash and rot?” she asked with a bright smile.

To her grand annoyance, he actually nodded.

“My village, the one I awoke in this world, was-” he began to talk about something Mharia had unfortunately asked about, sounding upset, but firm about it.

Urgh, did he have a whole character arc when she wasn’t looking?

Was it to do with that annoying joke of an Echo she had sensed bubbling nearby a while back? 

“-Silence destroyed it because of me,” he concluded, and Mharia blinked at him. He was giving her a look, something that was supposed to be meaningful.

“...Are you trying to imply all Silence Cultists know one another?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Don’t you?” he challenged.

“That’s a hurtful accusation and a harmful stereotype that we’re all in cahoots,” she lectured, wagging her tiny finger as she floated near his face.

He stared at her, and she sighed, running her fingers down her face, feeling the bone underneath shift.

“Yes, I might know who ran that particular ‘group’ in those areas, but it doesn’t make me friends with them. I might have sent them orders once or twice, but I was locked away downstairs long before you showed up, so don’t blame me,” she clicked her tongue.

“But if you must take your revenge, I can endure a slash, a spell or two, maybe even a ritual to trap me away for a few years,” she invited, curious if he might actually want revenge.

She didn’t care for Alpha. He was a side product of being near Delta. But she’d be foolish to pass up the opportunity to see how one of the Two’s agents functioned when his soul wasn’t ripped out.

“No need,” Alpha decided, a strange smile around his lips. Mharia frowned at the shift of his voice.

“I have something you don’t. Something you’ve been chasing for a long time. I met the ‘true’ Little Brother, just for a moment… and you never will. Your leader is pretty close, or so you claimed, but he’s not the real deal either, is he?” Alpha asked, and he was odd, like he was reading something off Mharia that she was sure she wasn’t revealing.

“I-” she cut herself off, sensing no deception from him.

“Besides… I don’t need to do anything to you,” Alpha nodded to himself, happy as he held his weird new staff, the thing thrumming under his touch.

“Why is that?” she asked, voice low.

“You’re already in your own hell. A happy family you can’t join… Gutrot on every wall, and the most importantly, you get to watch me walk out of Delta’s Dungeon while you won’t ever know if you can do the same. I don’t hate you. I pity you,” Alpha decided, like he had done some thought experiment and come to a conclusion.

Mharia went still, one part of her raging like the immortal child she was, but the more mature part of her… respected the fight Alpha now had in him.

Years of decaying souls in her soldiers had made the sight of one blazing with growth almost beautiful to her eyes.

“Fair point. Sorry about your village,” she said woodenly, trying to stop herself from running away.

She was no child. Not anymore.

Alpha stared at her, then frowned.

“I don’t get you at all,” he decided, and that was the least hurtful thing he had said thus far.

“And, since you’re bragging, where are your little feet taking you now?” she asked, pushing the pain down so a fake sweetness could coat her words.

“The Shattered Left,” he said and Mharia was so surprised that she nearly forgot to keep flapping her wings.

“No!” she snapped, voice cracking.

“It’s not really something you get to decide, but why not?” Alpha blinked and Mharia inhaled air she didn’t need and looked him right in the eyes.

“That is a place of war and gods, but it also holds another Echo and its own ‘followers’,” she stressed and he didn’t seem too worried which only meant he didn’t know.

“This Echo is… well, same idea, different approach, and a little less keen on restoring what was loss and more on… replacing it,” Mharia said, smoothing down her dress to ward off her unease.

“Different idea, same outcome. I beat it, feed it to a nearby Dungeon, and do what I actually went there to do,” Alpha decided, sounding confident, and oddly inspiring.

“You think you’re some hero?” Mharia challenged and he blinked.

“No, he lives in the Secret Garden,” he reminded her and Mharia just stared at him for a moment, not sensing one inch of humor.

“I don’t like you,” Mharia said and he actually smiled at her.

“I believe that,” he said, like he accepted the statement for the truth of it. Mharia twitched, wanting to throttle the boy, but also for some reason, she felt like smiling.

What… What was going on with her?

“Princess Mharia of Turtog, until we meet again,” Alpha said, waving a hand over his shoulder as he walked up the stairs.

“...Like I want to meet you again! You… You… fleshsack!” she yelled, trying not to screech.

Who did he think he was? 

A hero?

She could have begun to poke at the incoming seeds, the ones Delta didn’t fully absorb. Set a message into them, to pass along to another seed, then another, spreading like a virus until the Echo in the Shattered Left was given a warning of the agent of the Two coming.

But… Mharia hesitated.

“Not worth the effort. I got better things to do,” she told herself.

She plans and schemes to do, none of which concerned that idiot.

That was what made her reach deeper into the first floor before she noticed she had stopped seeing the Gutrot, stopped reacting to them for the first time.

It disturbed her more than being trapped in this Dungeon.