Huff, puff. Fighting off panic for this long during battle is doing a number on me, and going to make it all the worse when I finally succumb. My eyes are drying out and puffing up itchily. That’s right you Damnations, you pieces of crap, surround me to catch me in a crossfire. See what that gets you. I fire off the last of my meteorites, mostly only attempting to keep the attention of the Damnations on me. Let’s go ahead and pull a QCR number four, while pushing outwards.

The spin created by the path of inertia as my centripetal force meets the curse’s centrifugal force causes me to once again become a giant ball of lightning. Or rather, I’m surrounded by a shell of lightning traversing a specific radius around me. Drawing my lightning-empowered rune knife from my Bandolier, I await the next move by the Damnations, while my summoned allies sneak away to help Lil, Lucky, Lu, and FFS. Blah blah they’re trying their breath weapons and dragonfright combo. They are however smart enough to blow their breath weapons through tightly-pursed scaled-lip apertures. This leads to a high pressure stream instead of a massive roaring cone.

Still, between my natural resistances, my inclination to not remain in the path of such deadly elements, and the shielding generated by the electromagnetic field surrounding me, I’m quite alright despite their advanced tactics. While they’re attacking, identify the radiation emitted by their attack. Sense the wavelengths that are absorbed into the void of me. How did it go? If a polar opposite radiation meets, in a fashion similar to matter-antimatter annihilation, it releases gamma irradiated neutrinos? Or does it specifically have to be antimatter? Can I fake antimatter with shadowy evocation?

Hm, on second thought, maybe don’t try to come up with something that could cause a runaway chain reaction that destroys or irradiates all matter on the planet. Even if it’s only an infinitesimally low chance to chain in that manner, it’s about as likely to do that, as to be a useful killing tool. Just be satisfied with the tools you’ve got Reggie. Hm, FFS wants more SP from the staff to keep their body maintained while fighting alongside Lu and Lucky. Sure thing. Your presence is probably the most efficient use of SP I can think of from the staff.

Okay, blind this one, distract the other with my last free cold cone of the day. Follow it up with more blinding on this one shouting, “LSE Radiant cascade!”

That should keep this one dazed long enough for me to find an auditory canal. Ah, the ear holes are behind the frills provided by the horns. That makes sense, in order to offer some protection from their own roars and breath weapons. Alright, as soon as we unequip four from our QCR, be prepared to throw the lightning empowered-rune knife and direct the path of the freed-up lightning blast along with it. Deep breath Reggie, deep breath. I know you’re fighting off panic pal, and you’re going to have to give in any second. Just hold it for a little bit more, until we’re tucked inside this ear canal. There’s the tympanic membrane. It’s a thundrous drum of immense proportions. Get ready, get ready—. Now!

Releasing the combined spinning forces by removing my cursed gear, replacing it with number five from my QCR, I toss my lightning knife at the tympanic membrane while directing the massive ball of electricity to follow along after it. Simultaneously I fling myself in the same direction, albeit much slower than the travel rate of my lightning, as I allow myself to succumb to the panic attack that had been building since I accidentally acknowledged one of my worst triggers.

Tumbling deep into this auditory cavity, the now jagged, torn membrane looks exactly like my worst fears. Despite lightning bouncing around inside this region doing the work I need it to, it only highlights the flickering flashback hallucinations. Every surface is some jagged approximation of a maw. The fact that I’m inside a living creature, inside organic tissue, that’s rent in such a way as to appear like my terror-filled dreams of Day One is only exacerbating the issue. I’m sent tumbling, literally and figuratively, from torn cavity to torn cavity.

I feel as if I’m chewed and spat from mouth to mouth, maw to maw, jaw to jaw, over and over and over. I run screaming into my mindscape, no escape from this hellish reality. My vision has tunneled to a pinprick, and yet I’m fully capable of seeing all the nightmarish maws ready to rend my flesh from my body. Every surface that could, couldn’t, should, shouldn’t, would, or wouldn’t be able to open into an approximation of a fanged maw, does so anyway. The roaring of the wind blasting through this eerie organic cavern only adds to the terrifying experience. Its otherworldly whooshing is punctuated by the actual roars of the creature whose skull I’m inside of, tumbling further and further into its depths.

I’m sobbing, screaming in terror, and quite likely unintentionally thunder-shouting as I tumble, roll, fumble, scramble, crawl, shake, and curl fetal inwardly upon myself. Though I can’t afford it, minutes pass by in this hellscape. Worse, I’m pursued. The only thing my body or mind can think to do is to flee, and flee I do, deeper into this territory unknown to me, as unknown as my entire life and the jungles around me on Day One.

Almost comfortingly, I find a concave spot that’s perfect for my form to crawl in, curl up in a fetal position, and weep, just like Day One. Perhaps disgustingly, I pull a sheet of material over myself, to hide beneath, just like the big leathery leaves on Day One. Only, this material isn’t leathery leaves, it’s moist, torn, inner-ear flesh. The me experiencing the panic isn’t really cognizant of this. I’m halfway into an out-of-body experience, noticing my panic, my terror-stricken self curled up, rocking and weeping. Reggie. Reggie please. Please snap out of it. We’re being followed. We’re being chased. Get up a defensive spell, anything, please.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. The sobs and weeping of the Reggie beneath the ear-flesh are heard by our pursuer. They tear back our “blanket,” and grip us by the throat as they lift us into the air. Reggie, you’re going to die if you don’t react! Reggie please! F#(k! My heart’s racing so hard that it feels like it’s bound to collapse or explode at any moment. Do, do something, anything! Wiggle your finger even a little bit, I’ll put the intention into the rune!

Hah! Oh. Balls. We missed the one gripping our throat. But we did manage to proc the bangle’s runic clips though, including the randomly chaos-magic runic clip. Wh—, what? That aura. It’s, it’s—. It almost looks like reincarnation after a countdown. But it only lasts a scant few moments. Can, glp—. Can I utilize that somehow?

Frantically trying to resume control over myself, to gain some semblance of safety, of control, to flee the terror-stricken mindscape holding me hostage. Pleading with everything in the world to make the me trapped in a Damnation’s grasp use our raven-porting, or just about anything, nothing responds. I—. I die. Reggie Shellcracker dies in the grip of a Damnation while inside the skull of another. My neck is violently snapped, utterly shattered.

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I’m nearly beheaded in the grasp of this ancient evil. My corpse is tossed aside with disdain. A sense of calm overtakes me. I’m no longer in control. There’s nothing to be in control of anymore, or ever again. It’s pretty hard to have a panic attack when you’ve actually been slain, and are truly dead. The Damnation says something about a prime something, and fishing my corpse out later when we’ve returned.

Well. I always did sort of expect my panic attacks to get me killed some day. I can’t say it’s all that much of a surprise really. I didn’t expect it to be so soon, or suddenly. I guess it makes sense, with the foes that I’m currently facing. Well, was currently facing. Wait, can a was be current? Whatever, the foes that I was facing at the time. Sorry Reggie. Sorry everyone. I never meant to die.

I tried to correct this fatal vulnerability of mine. I truly did. I made a whole magical neuro-electric digital brain-box thing to contain panic attacks, to put them off in case they hit me during a battle, for exactly this situation. I guess it wasn’t good enough though. I wasn’t good enough. Sighing, I gaze down at the broken corpse before me, the neck twisted at an ungodly awful angle.

So much for that massive pool of hitpoints Reggie. I know, right? I guess a coup de grâce while incapacitated is still going to kill me, or pretty much anyone. I suppose that’s how assassins usually work. Funny, that reminds me of Aces, and their dog Eights. Which reminds me of a really lame joke. What joke? Why was six afraid of seven? Because seven eight nine. Wait. Countdown. Nine, eight, seven.

Six, five, four, three, two, one. The wild, random, chaotic chaos-magic benefit kicks in, and I’m revived, or rather, reincarnated. My body is replaced, and the new one made available to me grows horns, and a long, thick, tapered tail. My hair grows back, or, at least, some head of dark burnished-copper hair adorns my new cranium. My eyes lose their sclera and pupils, becoming a creamy silverish, almost platinum in tone. I become even further attuned to the magic of Rayileklia, though unfortunately, moreso in particular with the hellish, Fel magic of Rayileklia. I suppose that suits my current purpose well-enough.

Shouting my challenge upon my return to life, I call out to both Ephlomseestiph, and Laombigla, “I am Reggie Shellcracker! I am a Hero of the Order of the Onyx Dawn! I am an archmage Aliased Schism! And, I! Am! The! Void Dragon Honoris Causa!”

Donning “The Platinum’s” sorcerous robe, I begin slinging a rapid cavalcade of spells while my manifestation of my Void Dragon form lets loose, clawing its way about towards the brain of the Damnation I’m currently within. What magic I’m able to loose is a virtual artillery battery of elementally empowered blasts backed up by an incessant, nonstop barrage of runic clip procedural effects.

I begin to levitate, no, I fly without the use of my telekinesis. I am encased in glow of a radiant aura. Further, more and more random magical effects occur from the chaos-magic runic clip. The Damnation that had just slain me actually flees before me, exiting the skull of Laombigla. That’s fine by me. Laombigla begins to shrink around me, but I reinforce myself with my Steely Body spell, becoming an adamantite being within this ear-canal.

I sling more and more and more and more copies of this necrotic blast at rapid pace, proc’ing the bangle’s runic clips again and again and again. The chaos-magic conjures fireballs centered on myself, which does nothing to me, but likely irritates this inner ear with concussive force. The chaos-magic transforms my skin to blue, and has my hair fall out once more, unfortunately. The magic launches lightning bursts that traverse the inner ear, towards the fleeing Damnation, Ephlomseestiph, shocking both Damnations thoroughly. It also bolsters my protective abilities, and launches missiles of pure condensed mana repeatedly. It looses more necrotic energies that sap both Damnations while reinvigorating me.

Two strange little starfish robots appear, and they whirl away, scared off by the cavalcade of chaotic magic being unleashed. I find myself on a separate plane of existence that appears akin to a sea of stars several times during my magical mishaps, returning only moments later after each traversal. Several times, I actually become a sheep momentarily, but the constant swarm of fire and lightning damages that form enough to disrupt it, returning myself to my new devilish form. Pink bubbles float from my mouth during my raucous onslaught, preventing me from speaking.

Thankfully I don’t have or utilize a spoken mnemonic, so it doesn’t prevent me from continuing my magical assault. I’m made invisible for the briefest of moments, and I grow a literal third eye in the middle of my forehead, expanding my situational awareness somehow. Further, Laombigla becomes invisible momentarily, vanishing around me, offering me a view of the lands outside Vorzog’s Keep, but I gain the ability to see invisible creatures shortly after.

I can feel Laombigla reel, shudder, tip, and topple over. Laombigla’s life-force wanes, and is almost entirely diminished. The Damnation is quite nearly dead, as I continue to rain down necrotic and psychic damage from within its skull, towards its brain. Unfortunately, if I remain within while it continues to shrink, I could very-well perish myself. I have to make a hasty exit with my newfound temporary flight granted by the chaos-magic.

Funnily enough, some of the chaotic effects were almost entirely useless, like the fact that Laombigla and I were both made temporarily invisible, but I can see invisible creatures right now, and area of effects revealed us, dispelling our invisibility. The terribly vast variety of effects that have befallen the two of us is hilarious. Perhaps the most startling thing to have occurred though, is the fact that I seem to have summoned a unicorn. The beautiful mythic beast looks terribly confused, and a tad frightened to be standing near a convulsing, evil, ancient-dragon Damnation. Well, the unicorn is perhaps less surprising than the two starfish robots that are wheeling away into the sky and—. Whoops. I guess they didn’t notice the Worldstorm.

Focus Reggie, get a grip. Reorient. Huff. I’m so, I’m so—. Resurrection sickness? Um, maybe. Horf. Yeah probably. Did, did I just puke up gravel? What the—? Adamantite body spell I guess, maybe. Toppling to my knees, I continue to dry-heave as I reel from the experience of dying and returning to life once again. The unicorn appears to glance at me with pity, but something about me, or my current form makes it shy away in disgust, before galloping off.

I suppose it might detest me because I’m now some blue-skinned devilish creature, that probably doesn’t resemble Reggie Shellcracker at all. Do I still have my powers? Hm, I believe that I do. Yes, probably at least. If I could focus, I could probably shapechange back to myself. I—. This demonic nature, these new ties to the Fel—. I think I’m part incubus or succubus. I guess that makes me either an inkling or a succling.

Hearing Luni titter across my mindscape causes me to roll my eyes, despite my disoriented, discombobulated nature. Shaking my head, I can’t help smiling that even now, even though she must know that I’ve just died, Lu is finding humor in my mental monologue, my inner narrative. Struggling to my feet, I double over and dry heave once more. Crap on a cracker. I stagger towards the Damnation whose life is mere moments away from slipping into the great beyond. I stumble, and fall to my side, again, and stand again, and fall again.

Though I’ve powers like telekinesis, and even a temporary ability to fly, my brain is suffering backlash both from the reincarnation, and the absolutely insane torrent of chaos-magic that I unleashed. I can’t manage to manifest any of my powers, or even stand straight. No. No. No! Not again! No!