“That is mine,” Charles Thrun said, pointing to the massive tome held loosely under my right arm.

The man lounged on my throne amidst the devastation. The flickering, harsh lighting coming off of a far-off street lamp accentuated his sharp, angular jaw. It gave an evil cast to his expression. As if he was looking down on me like some arrogant dictator.

“Is it now,” I stated, looking up at Thrun with a bemused expression. Crusty was with me, still wearing his heavy steel plate, though had since lost his great axe. He lingered to the back, giving me space to deal with this final intruder into my mindspace.

“It is,” Thrun said. “My name is written on it if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Huh, would you look at that,” I said in mock surprise, glancing down at the cover briefly. “Suppose it's yours then.”

I tossed the tome over to the man. A flicker of surprise flashed across his face as he caught it, but his expression swiftly returned to being dour.

“How were you able to manipulate the formula so quickly?” Thrun said, flipping through the pages of the tome carefully. He turned a distasteful grimace toward the battlefield. “During the fighting. What you cast was not inscribed within these pages. I would know.”

“This is my mind,” I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what you put in that book. If I will something into being, it becomes reality here.”

“Surely that can’t be so,” Thrun frowned. I raised a brow at him, gesturing not so subtly above our heads where the upside-down remains of the outer city hovered. A thoughtful expression crossed Thrun’s face as he looked up at what I’d down. “Hmm, do you perhaps know why you are able to exert such influence over this...sphere?”

“Not a clue,” I shrugged again. “I call it my mindscape. Basically a representation of my mind. Things that happen here don’t make sense by definition.”

“I see,” Thrun narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Does it matter?”

“Guess it doesn’t,” I said. “Let me cut to the chase then. I know very little about you, and yet you somehow took over my body for multiple months and then had the nerve to shoot at me when I tried to reclaim it. Also, I find it a really strange coincidence that the nightmare phantom thing that caused all this fighting happened to be chilling next to the throne while you were sitting on it. I’m going to be frank with you, Thrun. With how much damage the phantom did, I can’t risk you sticking around.”

“Can’t say I wish to be here, either,” Thrun said. “This place is offensive.”

“Then leave.”

“And go where? Jump into that black abyss like you did to the ghoul? I don’t think so. What about that cave with all those plant monsters? With the moss giants. It is less than ideal, but I can subsist there with my spellbook. You can stay here and do whatever it is mace-wielding people like you do in your free time.”

“Doesn’t work that way,” I shook my head. “That place you’re talking about is the ancient dungeon. It’s in the real world. There is only one body over there. My body. And I’m going to inhabit it after I’m done here.”

“The real world?” Thrun raised a brow skeptically.

“Yeah, the real world. And this is my mindscape. What about this is so difficult for you to grasp?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Thrun sighed and pressed his face to his palms. “Looks like we are at an impasse.”

I suddenly noticed how Thrun looked haggard. For one, he was old. Not full-on retired old, but like 40s or 50s old. His hairless head and mostly smooth face made his exact age an enigma, but liver spots covered his forearms. Deep stress lines pulled down his jowls and clearly showed that the translocation to this new world must have been hard for him.

“Who are you, Thrun?” I asked a moment later with a softer tone. “How’d you come here?”

“Same as you, I presume,” Thrun shot me an inscrutable glance. “That is to say, I do believe I have as little of a clue as you seem to have. Though I daresay, I have yet to delude myself on the veracity of this reality as you have done.”

I crossed my arms, ready to interrupt, but Thrun raised a hand to forestall my outburst.

“Peace. I meant no offense,” Thrun sighed. “Before, on earth, if you will. I was a research scientist working on revolutionary robotics research. The events leading up to now are hazy, but I can honestly say I have never met you or any of the other things in this ehm...mindscape before in my life.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “I don’t remember how I got here either. I'm willing to try and help you find your own place if you want.”

“Look, girl,” Thrun said, waving his hand to dismiss my words. He lifted his face from his hands and pinned me with a piercing stare. “Earlier, you claimed I stole months of your life and shot at you, but I remember doing no such thing. In fact, it was you who did something to me that put me in...a state that doesn’t bear mentioning.”

“Really?” I said, turning to Crusty. “Crusty. You’re pretty good at memories. Why doesn’t he remember shooting at me.”

“Easy!” Crusty grinned. “On throne. Save different memories. Thoughts’ actions less important when on throne.”

“My point being,” Thrun huffed, glaring at us. “Perhaps it is too hasty to assume this place is your mind and your mind alone. Since I’m here, I believe it is probable that this place is just as equally mine as it is yours.”

“I doubt that,” I responded, placing my hands on my hips.

“Well, I am on a throne that clearly recognizes me. A throne that doesn’t recognize, ehm...Crusty over there,” Thrun said, gesturing toward the big bodybuilder. “Perhaps I should try to run a little experiment. Trying to reorganize the entire shape of the land would certainly prove my sovereignty, but might be a touch too ambitious. Something smaller but equally convincing could be to...do to you what you did to me. As an example, of course.”

I froze as I met Thrun cold glare. It really hadn't been that long ago when he’d been more akin to a mindless zombie than a proper, functioning human being. I’d assumed that he didn’t remember existing in that state, but the frosty animosity radiating out of him proved otherwise. I shuddered to think what it must have felt like. Certainly worse than anything I’d experienced.

Of course, Thrun could be bluffing, but I’d seen him summon ice crystals out of thin air in this place before. It wasn’t such a stretch that he was capable of some of the things I could in the mindscape. Especially while sitting on the throne.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

That meant I could either attack immediately or try and talk it out. The former ran the risk that I wasn’t fast enough, with dire consequences. It also felt...barbaric. I mean, come on. This was a person, not some slavering monster.

Which left option two.

“I’m sorry about that,” I said. “I'm gonna be honest, I didn’t really think you were a person when I, uh...zombified you. I was thrust into this place out of nowhere, and there were ghosts everywhere. It was hella creepy, sorry Crusty, and I really just wanted to get out. I kinda sorta assumed everything in here was part of me, so I did the most straightforward thing...Sorry.”

“Then what,” Thrun’s tone was hard as diamond, though his eyes softened marginally at my words. “You succeeded in getting back to the other world. Why did you come back? To fight this battle?”

“No, I actually came back because I was going to ask Crusty for advice.” I gestured vaguely to the big bodybuilder. “There is a problem in the real world involving a wolf. I don’t know how much you know...”

“Assume I know nothing,” Thrun said, a sparkle in his eye. “What is the problem.”

“You’re willing to help?” I asked, taken aback by Thrun’s sudden interest.

“Don’t act so surprised. Perhaps solving this issue of yours will lead to a solution to our current situation. Tell me the details, and we can begin.”

“Oh, well. Thanks,” I said, then paused as Crusty stepped up beside me. His heavy armor clanked heavily and crunched with every step.

“Squeeze me,” Crusty said cheerfully, holding up a thin beige booklet that he offered to Thrun. “Thrun want details? Here details.”

Thrun gingerly accepted the booklet. The moment it touched his hand, it snapped open and bathed his face with light. Thrun stiffened and clenched his eyes tight as the pages of the book started turning.

“What’s that?” I whispered to Crusty.

“Share memories,” Crusty nodded in satisfaction. “Faster this way.”

Suddenly, Thrun relaxed, slumping onto the throne like he’d just shaven years off his life. The booklet tumbled to the ground at his feet. Crusty gently picked it up and dusted it off before tucking it into his belt with utmost care.

“Verdammt,” Thrun muttered under his breath, blinking owlishly at his empty palm. “I see. You are a fool.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “That’s uncalled for!”

“No? Perhaps a better term would be thoughtless. You believe yourself a paragon of efficiency, and yet I see none of that in your actions. You are so quick to set up convoluted plans only to ignore the greatest efficiency losses for no discernable reason. It is marvelous how much time you managed to lose with your senseless infatuation to Fang.”

“You have little concept of how difficult it was to do what I’ve done all alone,” I started, feeling heat rise up to my face. “Besides, only one of the challenges so far was time-gated, so your point is irrelevant.”

“Mhmm, the Rat Grind?” Thrun nodded. “That was impressive. I can respect your tenaciousness to stick to the optimal path in that scenario, but I believe my earlier point is not ‘irrelevant’ as you put it. It is the most relevant. Say, girl. May I ask why you used kiku fruit as a food source during your latest engagement with Fang?”

“It was the most convenient tier-3 food source available to me,” I said, frowning at the sudden change of topic.

“But why not use a tier-4 food? Wouldn’t that have been a better -- and safer -- choice for tackling the highest-leveled creature you’d faced yet?”

“Well, duh, but I wasn’t about to hunt boar for several hours to make meat stew, now was I?”

“I’m not talking about meat stew. I’m talking about the tier-4 red fruit unlocked at level 30 farming.”

I paused. “What red fruit?”

“And now we come back to my original point. Early on, you identify that farming follows a pattern. A new seed is unlocked every five levels. And yet, the moment you break past the first couple levels you never take a second to wonder what fruit lies between kiku fruit — at level 20 — and charwood trees — at level 35. It is as if that same tenaciousness that granted you success has also neutered the thoughtful and reflective parts of your mind.”

I froze. What was he talking about? I had 100% farmed all the different types of seeds dropped in the ancient dungeon. Except, I also knew that I’d only harvested six unique plants, and farming followed a very specific pattern. That meant I wasn’t just missing this mysterious red fruit at level 30, but also another one at level 25.

“Crusty,” I said slowly. “Could you show me an image of my stash? The seed section specifically.”

The bodybuilder handed me a picture of the open chest. There it was. Eight unique piles of seeds, two of which I never remembered planting. One was black with orange speckles, while the other was large, round and with a stemmed lobe at the top, similar to an acorn.

“I’ll be damned,” I whispered as I white-knuckled the picture. Thrun was right. But maybe my brain wasn’t broken, as he suggested. Yes, I’d missed critically important observations, but I’d only done that after my stint in the mindscape where I’d zombified Thrun. What if doing that had triggered the problems? Which meant that Thrun wasn’t some intruder implanted unwillingingly into my brain, but an integral component that I’d inadvertently broken?

“Wait!” I said, a slow grin spreading over my face. “Listen. I only started being stupid after I zombified you. Before then I was working pretty intelligently. Even someone as grouchy and rude as you have to admit that.”

“Are you forgetting Fang?” Thrun replied, ignoring my jab.

“Forget Fang for a second. Do you agree the basic premise of what I said is possible?”

“Tentatively,” Thrun shrugged. “Anything is possible at this point with so little concrete information.”

“Ok, fair, but think about it. Doesn't it make perfect sense that we aren’t separate people but aspects of the same psyche? I know it's far-fetched, but practically all major psychology theorems posit that people are composed of various components responsible for different tasks. Like, we are literally standing in a mental representation of our mind!”

“If that is the case, then I have two questions. One, how come the representation of memory is an idiot—”

“Crusty isn’t an idiot!” I interrupted. “He's just not super fluent.”

“And two,” Thrun glared at me. “What aspect did you expel when you threw out the ‘phantom’?”

“Uh,” I turned to the smooth patch of white ground where I’d last seen the phantom. “Okay, yeah. I haven't thought that far yet. Still, what do you think? I say it's totally what's going on here.”

“Is it possible?” Thrun grimaced. He leaned back in the throne, looking over the city as he thought about what I'd said. I watched him, bouncing on my toes eagerly while he pondered. It seemed obvious to me and explained literally everything. I'd stopped being able to do math because I'd neutered the part of my brain that could do math. Why I even had the ability to access the mindscape was a whole different can of worms, but I was less concerned about that currently.

Eventually, Thrun turned his attention back to me and said: “Tentatively.”

A blue thread materialized in the space between us as soon as he said those words. It solidified between our temples, growing darker and more substantial with each passing second until it was almost as real as we were.

The temperature in the mindscape dropped by 20 degrees, and I gasped. The incessant fuzziness clouding my thoughts vanished, replaced by a frigid clarity that raised gooseflesh across my arms. Numbers and formulas rolled across my mind, but the clarity ran deeper than mere digits. My thoughts buzzed. Quick as a whip and ready to disentangle any problem that might come up.

I wasn’t the only one affected. Thrun stiffened in front of me, and I watched in real-time as he deaged by a decade. The thick creases along his cheeks thickened and smoothed out. His posture straightened, and his shoulders broadened, with even his clothes gaining a fresh luster as if recently washed.

The transformation completed, and we stared at each other silently.

“Hehe! Today will be exciting day!” Crusty chuckled, breaking the stunned silence. He stepped up the steps to the throne. His huge hand patted the frazzled man on the back, and he turned a brilliant grin on me. “Sometimes icy heart just needs warm smile.”

“Wow,” I croaked. “Guess that was it.”

“For better or worse,” Thrun curled his lip, leaning away from Crusty. “It appears that we are in this together.”

“Huh,” I said, still flummoxed. “While we are on a streak of figuring things out. Do you perhaps know what to do about Fang?”

“Simple,” Thrun waved his hand dismissively. “Just do what you did to the phantom. Here, take this horribly uncomfortable chair from me. I have little interest in dealing with your puppy.”