A few hours later, Moleman and his party take the stage for their skirmish. Since they’re alone on floor 66, it’s only them. They could’ve just decided on a winner beforehand, but no. Apparently, they’ve got too much respect for each other, so they decide to waste everyone’s time by having a genuine battle.

Maybe it’s hubris on my part, but watching Moleman pull out all stops and become a whirlwind of magic was startling. It felt like watching a beloved family pet suddenly rush a home intruder, except with magic instead of claws and teeth.

Maybe if I was a total battle maniac I could have spent these minutes watching him by trying to dissect his fighting style. By the time I have this thought though, it’s already over. Using his wind-lifty-up magic and a barrage of other nameless spells, Moleman has either pushed the rest of his party members off the stage or otherwise incapacitated them. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes.

And by the end of it, people are cheering and Moleman is shaking hands and the God of Pain is talking and I just… I can’t do this anymore. I feel sick.

Not waiting for the ceremonies to end and the cheering to fade, I turn away from the arena, towards the city. I’m just about to start climbing down when I spot something I hadn’t noticed before. It really feels like I should have seen it earlier, considering just how obvious it is.

Stuck in the middle of the northern park, the one square filled with a bazaar and people instead of trees and a cathedral, stands a chapel.

It’s small and ornate, the walls made of aged, BLACKened sandstone. Squeezed between the food stall and the mats and shouting salespeople, it feels oddly misplaced. Like someone put the wrong texture on a single square of the map. Even weirder, the more I look at it, the stronger I feel that it isn’t the chapel that’s misplaced, but rather everything else. A million little insults to the sacred ground upon which the chapel stands.

Guided by nothing but my heart, I climb down the side of the colosseum. My feet lead me to the chapel. In person, it looks even smaller than from up above. The man in the stall next to it stops shouting about sprint drake gear and foldable bicycles the moment his eyes fall on me. He knows.

I put my hand on the door handle, pushing it down. The heavy oak door slowly creaks open, a sliver of pure darkness gaping wide before me. I slip inside.

The door closes with a thump behind me. After a second or two, my eyes get used to the darkness.

The only light to be seen is a tawny stream, as thin as a spider’s thread, shining in through a small window in the roof. But it’s enough to see by. Calling it a ‘chapel’ was really more so for the outside appearance, because the inside looks way more like a jail cell of some sort, if a bit larger than most that I’ve been in. There’s a single bed, a chair and table, and then… An altar, I guess? I don’t know what else to call the carved stone slab leaned against the furthermost wall. The thick base of it is inscribed with a total of five different sigils, and there’s a silk cloth draped over the top, so it looks very religious. Or, it would, if it had held any sort of religious paraphernalia on it. Instead, there’s just a single vase with five flowers in it. A red rose; a yellow lily; a butter-flower; a… marigold, I think? And then another pink-white one I don’t recogni—

“That’s a dog rose!”

Jerked out of my thoughts I leap four feet into the air, bang my head against a wooden pillar and crash down onto the floor like a swatted fly. Who—what—where—

My eyes fall on the God of Pain. He smiles at me. He’s a lot smaller than the last time I saw Him, but he’s still the same annoying moon-man. Wasn’t He supposed to be at the colosseum? What the heck is He doing here?!

“I was wondering whether you’d found your way in here yet, and I’m happy to find you have!” He says, smiling. Always smiling. Grrr. Moon-face frozen in that ever-smile, he wanders over to the altar and plucks the so-called ‘dog rose’ from the vase. “This is the one I picked, you know. The God of Love sent us a whole list of all His flowers, and I’m quite happy with my choice.”

“Why are You here?” I bark at Him.

His smile turns obnoxiously elusive. “Don’t you know? This is my temporary abode for the tutournament.” Before I have time to reel from that insane statement, He puts the dog rose back in the vase and grabs the butter flower. “You didn’t ask, but this is actually called a kings cup flower.”

“Sh—shut up, I knew that!” I lie to Him, for absolutely no reason. Before the word shifts back to Him, I quickly add, “And, besides, why are You lying to me? No god would be masochistic enough to live in this dinky little cell. Are You trying to get on my good side by pretending to be mortal or something?”

He’s got the same expression as before, but something in His eyes looks a fraction quizzical. “Didn’t I tell you I’m the God of Pain? Tut tut, Kitty. Now’s no time to play games.” Enigmatic smile, now. Can’t He stick to one? My brain can’t handle deciphering the tiny quirks of a single smile.

Returning the flower to the vase, He waltzes over to the bed and pats the part next to him. A silent request. One I really don’t want to follow. He quirks an eyebrow at me. The awkward silence is worse than the possibility of Him touching me, so even though I mostly just want to run away, I step up to the bed and sit down next to Him. Thankfully, He doesn’t put His arm around my shoulders or something parental like that.

“If you’d like,” He says, “you are most welcome to stay the night here.”

My head flashes to face Him. “...What do you mean? Didn’t You just say that this was Your place?”

“Don’t you worry about that—I’ll crash at Will’s place. He hates me, but He just can’t say no to My infectious smile!” To punctuate His dumb joke, He sticks His fingers in the edges of His lips to form a blood-curdling grin. Since my reaction is that of mute horror, He quickly releases it, returning His expression to the ordinary. “So, what do you say, Kitty?”

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“...About what?”

He shrugs. “You’ll have a bit of silence, some alone time, away from the crowds…” A gleam in His eye tells me He already knows exactly everything there is to know. As though he’s reading my heart directly. “With a day as tumultuous as this, a bit of time to think might be just what you need, no?”

My hands curl into fists atop my lap. “I… I don’t…”

“If not for you, then for your friend. Does that make it easier?”

No. It really doesn’t. If anything, trying to factor Moleman into this whole thing just makes it harder. I clench my teeth and bite out, “I don’t… want to bother him. He told me he wanted a bit of time alone, so…”

“How about we put it to the test, then?”

“...What? Test what?”

What the heck is this guy on about now?

Aaaaand now His smile has gone all mischievous. He seriously can’t pick one, can He?

“I’ll send a little system alert to SuperMoleman about where you’re at, and then we’ll see if he shows up or not. How’s that?” He asks, like a psychopath.

“Why—why would You do that? Can You even do that?”

“I’m a system administrator!” He says. “I can do anything.” A chill runs down my spine. When I’m around this guy, I keep forgetting He’s a god. An actual divine being. It’s hard to remember considering the way He acts. “So?” He says. “Do you think he’ll show up or not?”

Saying so, He leans in closer. I scooch away. “I—well, I think I’d rather he…”

“It’s not about what you want, Kitty.” His face twists in dark glee. “It’s about how well you know Moleman.” He carefully strokes his pointed chin. “So? What’ll it be?”

I gulp. “I…” I shake my head and affix the God of Pain with my gaze. “He’ll be here.”

“I see. In that case, I’ll bet he won’t come. If I win you’ll spend the night, and if you win, I’ll help you out a little when the time comes! How’s that?”

“Uh… sure?” That’s ominous.

He turns away from me. “Now, while we wait, would you care to teach me one of your Earth games? Love mentioned something called ‘Tick-tack-toe’ last time I spoke to Him. Would you care to explain?”

“...Alright.” So, I teach Him. Tic-tac-toe is easy enough, so to up the ante, I teach Him tramp chess, ergo the variant where you can move your pieces around once you’ve used three. We do this for a while. I’m ashamed to admit that once He understood the simple rules, He beat me. Every time. Didn’t matter where I put my piece, once He got a taste for it, he knew just what to do. Didn’t help that He quickly integrated a little punishment game where if He won, He got to poke me. In return, if I won, I was allowed to insult Him to His face. In hindsight, I’m not so sure if it was worth it.

To continue passing the time, I taught him checkers, which I can only barely play myself. Why did I keep playing even though I got zapped every game? No idea! Better than facing the silence, I suppose.

If I taught Him to play, I also didn’t have to look at the time.

How long has it been since Moleman got the message? Is he still coming, or does he need more time to think? I’m sure he’s got a lot to think about. I don’t mind if he doesn’t come. It’s up to him, really. I’m used to being alone, so this is nothing.

Nothing at all.

<22:30:02

Day 543>

27:01:29:58>

Day 4 of 5>

…I’m starting to think he might not be coming.

“So? How about it? One more game, right? We’ll play one more game, won’t we?” the God of Pain says, practically begging.

I look at him, and then towards the closed door. “...He isn’t coming, is he?”

Pain tilts his head at me like a dog. “Hm? What’s that?”

Anger bubbles up in the pit of my stomach. “You’ve just been distracting me to make the pain worse. Isn’t that right, Pain? The longer I waddle around with false hope, the more it’ll hurt once it breaks. So you’ve been distracting me. Even made it into a fun little game.” I stand up, fists trembling. “So stop it. I don’t care anymore. He’s not coming, and I’m not staying here. I’ll go live in an alley or something. That’s nothing new to me, unlike this damn—”

Knock knock knock.

I freeze in place. My head slowly turns to face the door.

Knock knock knock knock.

I turn to Pain, breath held, only to find His face as serene and placid as a moonlit lake.

Turning away from him, I move towards the door, big, confident strides hiding my fear. I only pause briefly for a second in front of the door, my trembling hand hovering over the door handle. I grit my teeth and push it down, heaving the door open.

It’s raining. I hadn’t noticed that before, but now that the door is open, I can hear it plainly. Smattering down, loudly, harshly. Glints of light in the night darkness. And there in the rain stands Moleman, panting like he just ran a marathon, clothes and cloak and pants and hair all soaking wet, raindrops streaming down his face to mask the scent of sweat. If I hadn’t been paralyzed by the look of deep, deep relief on his face I might have noticed the fact that he’s half-leaned on a bicycle, of all things.

My jaw works itself. “M—Moleman, you—”

Throwing himself at me, the bicycle clattering to the ground, he clutches me in his arms, the cold rainwater and his feverish skin painting a very strange picture. He quickly unlatches from me, keeping his hands firmly on my shoulders. “Are you okay, Kitty?”

“Yeah, of course, what are you—”

“Would you like to step inside, Moleman?” an undeniably divine-sounding voice rumbles from behind me. His smile makes Moleman twitch. Or maybe it’s the simple fact that there’s a god standing in front of him. “You’ll be no good in the tutournament finals if you catch a cold now.”

“Oh, uh… Y—yes, of course,” Moleman answers hesitantly.

We enter, leaving the bike tethered outside.

There’s a fireplace in the chapel now, lighting up the room. Not to mention the couch facing the bed. The God of Pain seems positively giddy with the developments, but I feel nothing. Considering the fact that I won our ‘bet’, shouldn’t He be the unhappy one? Ahh, I don’t get it.

Moleman gives me a meek look. “Sorry I was late. I was halfway to your hole when I got the message, and by that point, I thought I might as well check it out to make sure that you weren’t—that you hadn’t…” He shakes his head. “Really, I’m sorry.”

“No—no, there’s nothing to apologize for.” I look at the fire to avoid having to watch his expression shift. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”

He follows my gaze into the fire. A long pause passes between us. He’s the one who breaks it, saying, “Listen, about the trial…”

“Let’s not talk about it,” I quickly say. We share a look. “It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will probably be no different, so…” I muster a smile of some sort. I’m not sure if he fell for it or not. “We’ll take it when we get there, okay?”

He slowly nods. “...Yeah, alright.”

Silence. Horrible, painful, awkward silence. If only to break it, I ask, “So, what’s with the bike?”

He blinks at me. “Oh, that’s… One of the people in the Africa server was able to make a purgatory-compatible design. He’s been selling foldable, inventory-sized bikes and building plans in the bazaar, so I got one. They’re really useful, but since they’re made of wood they aren’t very long-lasting.”

“Okay,” I respond. And then silence again. Itching silence. “So, uh… It’s kind of late, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Moleman says. “We should probably head back home. Regain some energy for tomorrow and all that.”

“So…” I look down at my folded fingers and then back up at him. “You’re okay with me sleeping at your place again?”

His brows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I…” I… what? We didn’t exactly split on good terms, so I thought… But it’s not like he’s so cruel he’d ask me to sleep in the hole just for that. That’s why he literally spent hours biking all the way to the hole and back. To make sure I didn’t have to sleep in the mud and the rain. I look down at my feet, and at the shadows dancing in the fire’s living light. I smile. “No, nothing.” I look back up at him. “Let’s go home, okay?”

He smiles back at me. “Sounds good.”

On the way out, Pain stops me briefly to pat me on the back (horrifying) and give me a cheeky wink. Whatever that means.