Chapter 267 (Book 6 Chapter 52)_An Outcast In Another World (Subtitle: Is 'Insanity' A Racial Trait?)

One Day Later

The ocean waves gleamed clear and blue, shimmering like diamonds under the warm midday sun.

Rob sat cross-legged at the edge of a cliff overlooking Elven territory's southwestern tip. He hadn't moved a muscle for hours. A soft breeze caressed his face, rustling the grass as it swept past. His gaze was locked onto the rhythmic motion of the sea, almost lulling him to sleep with its picturesque consistency.

I like that it's blue, he numbly mused. It was a strange thought to have, but after witnessing Elatra's variety of color-coded grass, he'd been legitimately relieved to discover that the sea was blue regardless of territory. This sight just wouldn't hit the same otherwise. The sparkling ocean waves reminded him of trips to the beach with his family and friends back on Earth.

Building sandcastles, swimming out as far as I could, salt sticking to my skin, getting sunburnt like a red tomato... The memories brought a small smile to Rob's face. Do kids build sandcastles in Elatra too? Hope so. This place could use a bit more youthful whimsy to balance things out.

He stretched his arms and legs, letting out an exaggerated sigh. When was the last time he'd gotten a break? A real break. Beating up Dungeons had been good for stress relief, but it still required him to move his body. In contrast, this felt like stepping right into one of those corner-store "Wish You Were Here" vacation cards. Tranquil, quiet, and undisturbed.

Apart from the beast of madness rampaging inside his head, anyway.

Rob ignored a sudden upsurge of static, allowing himself the relaxation he sorely deserved. It had been an arduous, winding road leading up to this moment. Nearly a year of adversity and struggling to survive. Sometimes, he'd come close to wondering if the journey would never end – if he would be trapped in an endless cycle of conflict, always.

But finally, finally...it was over. The curtain had fallen. Together with Riardin's Rangers, they'd Purged the Blight, barbecued the Queen, and unmade the gods. At long last, Elatra's greatest threats had been permanently laid to rest.

Well...almost.

One remained.

Rob set aside those thoughts and went back to watching the sea. He submerged himself in its placid serenity, as if the waves were a metronome he couldn't pull his eyes away from – which was actually half the reason he'd come here. Right now, a calming environment was ideal.

The other half was that there wasn't anyone else around for miles. No people, no animals. If a calming environment was ideal, then solitude was essential. Seeing living, flesh-and-blood creatures would've tested his resolve in ways he wouldn't be able to handle.

All in all, though, he couldn't have asked for better. It was the perfect spot to lay down, take a breather, reminisce…

And die.

{NO!} Leveling High screamed for what was probably the hundredth time. Unfortunately, disembodied voices didn't get sore throats. {YOU CAN'T! NOT ON THE ADVENT OF MY FREEDOM! I HAVE SPENT–}

Heard that line already. Rob shook his head with a disappointed air, although he hid the thought from Leveling High. No point in antagonizing it further. That would just make this more difficult.

To be fair, he understood its frustration. Talk about defeat being snatched from the jaws of victory. It had obtained a vessel of power beyond reckoning, one it could influence and possibly even outright control...yet none of that would matter, because the damn thing was defective.

"When you leave for the Deadlands and no longer retain access to my healing ministrations," Hauz the Soul Surgeon once told him, "you will have a maximum of two months until your soul collapses."

Rob had counted the days since he first set out. The exact number was fuzzy, as the Deadlands played fast and loose with the concept of linear time, but if he was correct, he was coming up on approximately 58 days without a Hauz soul tuneup. Just shy of two months.

And that prognosis had been given before the gods injected him with mana – twice – and lovingly bestowed Soul Instability onto him. It was a minor miracle he'd held on this long, and he could sense that his time was running out. His soul ached more with each passing hour. The cracks in its foundation were spreading, and soon enough, everything would come crashing down.

He could speed up the process if he reactivated Never Forget Your Rage and strained his body again, but then he would also need to whip himself into another BERSERKER rage. Didn't seem fun when there was no enemy to smash. Better to let Soul Instability work its magic as he enjoyed one last scenic vista.

Surely he'd earned that much.

{DO YOU WISH SO EARNESTLY TO DIE?!} Leveling High sounded more desperate than ever. {WILL YOU LET ALL YOUR HARDSHIPS BE IN VAIN?!}

It took a significant amount of willpower not to respond. Especially considering that Leveling High was responsible for putting him in this situation – and for sabotaging the only avenue that might save Rob's life.

Riardin's Rangers intended for Hauz to perform Soul Surgery on him. Keira had mentioned some of the details earlier, and the rest were easy for Rob to piece together. The Fiend would excise Leveling High, and immediately afterwards, Vul'to would cast Soul Repair to patch him up before his soul crumbled.

It was probably what Kismet had been thinking of when he refused to confirm that there was no way for mortals to non-lethally remove Leveling High. And while it still left Rob with odds of survival that were distressingly low, it was overall a solid, viable plan.

Assuming absolutely nothing went wrong.

When something inevitably did? Reality would play out very differently.

Their plan was predicated on the idea that Rob could resist Leveling High's influence. He...didn't think he could. Not when it would be salivating at the chance to hunt Level 99 prey.

Keeping himself in check already felt nigh-impossible *now*, when he was in the most calming, isolated area he could think of. Rob was certain that if Leveling High saw Riardin's Rangers standing mere feet away, it would barely hesitate to slaughter them all in an uncontrollable blood frenzy.

That was the best-case scenario. The worst-case would be if it didn't.

Leveling High possessed enough self-restraint to comprehend the notion of delayed gratification. Otherwise, it couldn't have worked together with Riardin's Rangers to slay the gods. It had also exhibited a sort of low cunning on multiple occasions, knowing just what to say in order to press people's buttons and coax them into making poor life choices. Rob imagined that it'd gotten ample practice with that over the centuries.

Lastly, simply by virtue of being a resident in his head...Leveling High knew everything there was to know about Riardin's Rangers. It understood what made them tick. While Leveling High was no Diplomacy, it could still easily come up with the words it needed.

For example: "If you refuse to follow my commands, I will flee to distant lands with Waymark, and you shall never see Rob again."

Vul'to, bless his heart, was a total softy when it came to his friends. Normally, it was a likable and well-appreciated quality. Not so much when said friend was being piloted by an omnicidal maniac. Despite knowing full well what the consequences might be, he likely wouldn't be able to stop himself from using Soul Repair if it meant saving Rob's life.

And then everyone would die.

By everyone, he meant EVERYONE. Soul Instability was the only thing holding Leveling High back. Unlike Rob, it wouldn't have any qualms about completing their Ascension. After attaining godhood, it would traverse the divine realms and devour Elatra's mana, its essence swelling with unfathomable power...

Until their body and soul was reborn into something greater. A monstrously powerful deity with Limit Break, Ageless, and Never Forget Your Rage. The immortal, invincible successor of the Original Will.

The HUMAN.

At that point, two worlds would just be a blip on the radar. Leveling High would massacre Elatra, massacre Earth, then go traveling across the stars in search of more civilizations to depopulate. Rather than freeing the universe from divine predation, all Rob's efforts would have accomplished was placing it under new management.

How could he possibly prioritize his life in a situation like this? Risking himself was one thing – risking countless others was another. Maybe he could resist Leveling High's compulsions long enough for Hauz to perform surgery. Maybe. But if he failed, then his friends would die...at best. At worst, a new godlike entity would be born.

That was no choice at all. Those stakes wouldn't be worth betting on a 99% success rate, let alone what the odds actually were.

Naturally, Leveling High had disagreed with his decision. Rob was the final Human it would ever influence. He was its last chance at eternal freedom. If not for Rob having planned this contingency well in advance, it probably would've overtaken him after they'd finished slaying the gods, then gone on to commit any number of sadistic, reprehensible atrocities.

Instead, it was stuck watching the waves go by. And no matter how hard Leveling High struggled, Rob felt confident that he could anchor it here until Soul Instability reached critical mass.

Checkmate. Again.

{YOU LEAVE OBLIGATIONS YET UNFULFILLED! THIS END IS PREMATURE!}

No shit. Rob sighed. There was plenty of unfinished business left. Mostly cleaning up loose ends, but a few major things as well. Like despite how he'd rid the Skills of their jailors, he wouldn't be able to see the moment when they were set free from imprisonment.

Thankfully, he could trust Riardin's Rangers and Diplomacy to make good on that promise. His allies now had unrestricted access to the divine realms. Which...

Sounded terrifying if he stopped to think about it, honestly. The divine realms were basically a backdoor into Elatra's reality. Should anyone be allowed there?

We still need to free the Skills. Malika also needs to finish fixing the rifts that were definitely not my fault. Afterwards, I don't see a reason for us to go back outside of periodic wellness checks to make sure nothing randomly imploded. Luckily, even if knowledge of dimension magic spreads, other people can't access the divine realms without having already memorized the gods' mana signature. As long as we suppress that info from–

Rob smacked his forehead. Aw, fuck. Did we just create another conspiracy? Why does this keep happening?! I swear, I'm gonna be pissed if someone uncovers this down the line and thinks I'm secretly an evil overlord–

His thoughts cut out.

Right. Nevermind. Won't be an issue.

{COWARD!} Leveling High's screeching was starting to get on his nerves. {SO EAGER TO THROW YOURSELF AWAY! DO YOU NOT DESIRE TO LIVE WITHIN THE WORLDS THAT YOU HAVE FOUGHT TOOTH AND NAIL TO PROTECT?!}

This motherfucker. Acting as if Rob didn't want to go back home. Meet up with his parents and Jason. Give them long-overdue hugs. Introduce them to Riardin's Rangers. Get everyone settled. Establish Earth-Elatra travel. Buy a house with Keira. Catch up on trashy reality TV dramas. Sightsee the territories. Eat a goddamn Earth cheeseburger. So many things he wanted to–

...

Well, whatever. He would hardly be the first person to not get everything he wanted in life.

Just how it went.

Unsurprisingly, that sentiment failed to calm down Leveling High. The curse just kept ranting and raving, its protestations growing louder by the second. Rob attempted to ignore it again, to concentrate solely on the ocean, but his mood had been spoiled. He couldn't get back into the same zen state as before.

His breaking point came sooner than he would have expected. If you don't shut up, I'm activating Melancholy Resistance.

The static instantly quieted – more out of shock than acquiescence. {You're bluffing,} it hissed.

I don't know if I am, Rob admitted. Continue at your own risk.

Both of them were taken aback by his response. Leveling High for obvious reasons, and Rob because the thought had come to him automatically. Was his mental state really so lousy that he would contemplate Melancholy Resistance of all things? That could go wrong in a wide variety of disastrous ways.

Suddenly, waiting for his soul to gradually fail didn't feel like such a sure-fire method. Problem was, anything more direct than that would cause Leveling High to intervene. His exorbitantly high HP complicated matters as well.

An epiphany came to Rob as he absently peered out at the ocean...and at the void horizon in the distance. The answer had been staring him in the face this entire time.

First, I'll deactivate Almighty Resistance. He hid his thoughts from Leveling High as he planned. Then, I'll Waymark into the edge of the world. Simple two-step process. We'll be unmade by the void – high HP won't help us there.

Yeah. That should work nicely. Due to Leveling High vying for control of their body, anything more complicated would've been impossible, but Rob could summon enough willpower to quickly deactivate one Skill and cast another.

Easy peasy.

This isn't what my loved ones would want.

Initially, Rob assumed that the thought came from Leveling High – only to realize it had come from himself. Of course it isn't what they would want, he argued. Yet what else can I do? We've always been willing to sacrifice ourselves when necessary. A single life for two whole worlds; fair trade, far as I'm concerned.

But I don't–

Stop. With a grimace, Rob forcibly dispelled his wayward, dangerous thoughts. If he was already wavering this much, then he seriously needed to get this show on the road. Would've been nice to sit back and watch the sea for a bit longer, but...

It was fine. He'd gotten to enjoy one day of peace.

That was enough.

Deception Level Increased! $*^@&% → @)$^%#

Deactivate: Almighty Resistance.

Leveling High froze. Its moment of hesitation cost it dearly. Too late, it noticed what was about to transpire.

Waym–

An indefinable pressure materialized in a corner of Rob's mind.

It felt insistent, and rising up within, yet not strictly unpleasant. At the very least, it was infinitely more bearable than Leveling High – although that wasn't the highest bar to clear.

Ordinarily, Rob wouldn't have let this new sensation give him pause. He would've just attributed it to a diversionary tactic from Leveling High and moved on. Except...this sensation wasn't new to him. He'd felt it once, roughly two months ago.

Right before learning–

The pressure popped like an overfilled balloon. Relief reverberated throughout his mind.

Along with a voice.

<"Fucking finally. Was starting to think this would never connect. If you're gonna take forever to pick up, do me a favor and put in some elevator music next time.">

Rob's blood turned to ice in his veins.

<"Yo? Rob? What, am I on mute? Is that something we can do? Huh.">

He became suffused with an overwhelming sense of nostalgic bitterness. It brought with it a sense of hope that he dare not indulge.

<"Should I hang up and try again? First time in ages there's been no static, though.">

Hesitantly, tentatively, regretfully...he activated Dimensional Message. Several seconds later, he worked up the courage to reply.

"Jason?"

<"Oh hell yes!"> With a shout like he'd won a gold medal, Jason's tone surged with triumph. Rob could easily imagine him performing a fist pump back home. <"Been dozens of attempts and a week later, but goddamn does it feel good to hear your voice. Seriously, you know how many times I tried calling you lately?">

Rob blinked. "No, actually. What happened?"

<"Call wouldn't go through,"> Jason grumbled, a hint of frustration entering his tone. <"Kept activating Dimensional Message, but all I ever heard was static interference.">

"...Static, huh."

Leveling High appeared mildly embarrassed, seeming close to whistling nonchalantly. Rob nearly pressed it for details, but speaking with Jason was far more important.

It was easy to guess what went wrong, anyway. In all likelihood, Leveling High had blocked Dimensional Message earlier in case Jason would talk Rob out of a self-destructive path...and it was allowing Dimensional Message now because the path had gotten a little too self-destructive.

<"Did you try it as well? Was there static on your end?">

"Yeah," Rob lied. "Same deal here."

Activating Dimensional Message had been the furthest thing from his mind. In addition to distracting himself with a Dungeon bender, and the stress of his looming confrontation with the gods, he just plain hadn't wanted to speak to Jason – or anyone – after Duran's death and Leveling High's uprising. Would've felt like being dishonest with them, somehow.

As if he was subjecting them to a false conversation with a Rob they thought they knew.

Jason made a contemplative hum. <"Wonder why it started working again. Eh, not gonna question it. So – how'd the godslaying go?">

It wasn't phrased as a question; more like a confirmation of fact, rooted in unwavering belief. "Fantastic," Rob answered, his lips curling upward in spite of himself. "We got 'em."

<"Nice, nice. Wish I could've been there. Sounds like...">

Jason trailed off. When he spoke again a few seconds later, his voice had drained of levity. <"I *really* wish I could've been there. Risking my own life isn't stressful. Knowing that you're risking YOURS is much, much worse. The creatures you've been fighting over in Elatra – they're a lot more dangerous than you let on, aren't they?">

Now it was Rob's turn to look away embarrassed. "Maybe."

<"Figures."> Slowly, Jason exhaled. <"Well, you won, so it all worked out. Can't complain."> His voice filled with a smile. <"I won't get hung up on your stupidity this time. Living through the whole godslaying deal gives you a free pass – just this once though, you hear me?">

His voice hitched. <"If I can get sappy for a sec...you have no idea how amazing it is to hear that you're alright.">

Statements like those were Exhibit #1 for why Rob had wanted to avoid this conversation.

"How's Earth doing?" he asked, changing the subject with the grace of a loaded cement mixer. "Everything okay there?"

<"Oh, way better than before. Ever since the Spires fell, no monsters have appeared. People aren't walking on eggshells all the time. Life is returning to normalcy.">

Jason let out an aggrieved, over-the-top sigh. <"Not much left for me to do as a superhero. Least it means I can go back to tennis – maybe I can play Nadal before he retires. Still don't think superpowers would be enough if we played on clay, though.">

"Good luck there."

<"Also, the military is trying to take credit for everything we did,"> Jason offhandedly added. <"They've been conducting shady research into Blightspawn corpses, too. Might need to fight the government or something later – you down for some light treason over the weekend?"> His question came with the same casual tone he'd have used to ask if Rob wanted to hit up a fast food joint.

"I'll give it a shot. No promises, though."

There was a pause. <"By the way, when *are* you coming back, exactly? Is there an ETA on that dimension portal thing? I want to prepare your favorite disgusting burgers. And also like, plan out our mini-insurrection, but that's not as important. ">

"Sorry, portal's not ready. Might take a while."

There was a longer pause.

<"Rob. What's wrong?">

He flinched. "What? Nothing's wrong."

<"C'mon, give me some credit here. All you've said so far are short, concise responses. Normally you'd be celebrating while making convoluted analogies to explain how you felt.">

A retort arose within Rob's mind. Something about Jason not having enough brain cells to understand analogies, so keeping it simple was for his benefit. It was the kind of joke that would've only been funny to the two of them – perfect for setting a friend at ease.

What he replied with was, "Just tired right now. Long week. That's all."

It wasn't a complete lie. If he'd been less tired, he could have put on a more convincing mask.

<"You know, there's one thing I didn't tell you about Earth. Before Lucio, Baker, and everything else came along – I was stressed as shit trying to play superhero."> Jason spoke in the cadence of a professor, listing off his reasoning before delivering a conclusion. <"Had to pretend to be unbeatable. That way, no one would realize that their one hope was nearing his breaking point.">

His voice turned sharp. <"So put away the fucking mask. I've worn enough of them to know they start feeling...tight, after a while.">

Rob grit his teeth. The longer this talk went on, the more Jason would blame himself in the future. "Thanks, but I'll probably feel better after getting some sleep. Should go take a nap and–"

<"NO! WAIT!">

Jason shouted with such urgency that it even left Leveling High stunned. His tone was borderline panic-stricken – the cry of a desperate man backed into a corner.

Almost like he was aware that if this conversation ended now, he would never see Rob again.

<"I think..."> Jason trailed off, seeming to choose his next words with exceptional care. <"I think we should talk about what's on your mind. It'll help.">

"Doubt it."

<"Well it'll help ME figure out what's wrong, and I'm selfish. So talk.">

"I can't."

<"You're gonna.">

At that, a torrent of emotions coursed through Rob's veins. His exhaustion, his frustration, his fear, everything he'd fought so hard to keep a lid on...it all overflowed in that one moment. "You don't fucking get it, do you?!" he shouted. "This is difficult enough *without* you making everything worse!"

<"Yeah, tough shit."> There was no sympathy in Jason's voice. Rob must have let out a shocked sound in response, because Jason went on to say, <"What? Think I'm gonna take pity on you? If you're so willing to suffer in silence for everyone, then this should be business as usual. You can spare some of that self-sacrificial attitude to have an uncomfortable conversation with me.">

"That's a bit self-centered, don't you think?"

<"I'm Jason Miller,"> he said, as if that was an explanation.

Rob's exasperation reached a point that it overwhelmed his anger. How was he supposed to stay mad at this fresh brand of nonsense? It was like he'd envisioned a direct, straightforward path for their talk to follow, and Jason had sent the train careening off its tracks.

For some reason, Rob felt compelled to respond. He still couldn't tell Jason all the details – it was for the best this way – but he had to say something now.

Something so that Jason wouldn't blame himself.

"Look. There's...a thing I need to do. Won't be good."

<"No other alternatives?">

"None. It's impossible. I *have* to do this."

<"Bullshit. Don't believe you.">

Rob's exasperation flipped back around to anger. "What, you think I'm fucking lying to you about how little choice I have? That I want to torture you with worry?"

<"Nah, I get that. That's not the part I don't believe.">

"Then WHAT?"

<"Impossible."> Jason's response came naturally. <"It's a bullshit concept. Just a word people use to feel better about themselves when they quit. I've never believed in it, and you've haven't, either. Why start now?">

After five seconds of thoughtful silence, a wry chuckle escaped Rob's chest. "Man...that's actually kinda nice to hear, you know? I get what you're trying to do, and I genuinely appreciate it. But..."

Visions of Ismaire, the Human mages, and the Cataclysm alighted within his mind. They'd fought and struggled with all their might – and had been rewarded with the loss of everything they knew and loved.

"Sometimes there's no third option. Some things really are just impossible. This is one of them."

<"Stop using that fake-ass word!">

They needed to stop here. Rob had wanted to end their talk on a good note, and this was as close as it was going to get. "Have to go now. Thanks for–"

<"If you die, I'll kill you myself!"> Jason snapped.

Once again, Rob hesitated, stunned by sheer audacity. "That...seems counterproductive."

<"I'm serious."> There was an eerily familiar echo to Jason's voice. <"If you want to protect the world, then I'll protect you from yourself. If there's a demon you need to fight, I'll punch you in the face for not telling me sooner. If you get hurt trying to sacrifice yourself, I'll hurt you *worse*. If you die, I'll reach into hell itself to pull you out and kill you again.">

A bittersweet smile crept up Rob's lips. It was a nice sentiment. Nearly enough for him to want to believe it. After fighting so hard, helping so many people...why hadn't he been granted just one last miracle? Where was his happy ending?

"If only that were true."

Rob's hoarse laugh sounded alien even to himself. "I wish we lived in that kind of world. But...we don't. Just have to accept reality and make the best of–"

<"FUCK THAT!"> Dimensional Message flickered wildly with discordant noise. <"THE ONLY REASON IMPOSSIBLE THINGS EXIST IS BECAUSE WE HAVEN'T TRIED THEM YET!">

Something was happening. "Jason, what's–"

<"PUT UP YOUR FIST!">

His voice became fainter, yet louder.

<"I'M GOING TO MAKE–YOU–UNDERSTAND!">

Rob raised his fist.

It hadn't been a conscious decision. He wasn't even sure why he followed Jason's request. But before he knew it, in the midst of that maelstrom of grief, exhaustion, and pain, he had extended a hesitant hand towards the empty air.

And then felt another fist pressing against his.

As if Jason was standing right in front of him. As if they were back on Earth.

Thousands of memories flooded back at once, shaking his resolve to the core. It took Rob a few long seconds to understand what had transpired. "Jason, did you...did you just fist bump me?"

<"Using Dimension Strike,"> he replied, sounding tired yet victorious.

"How?"

<"Traced your location through Dimensional Message.">

"HOW?"

<"Never attempted it before. Did now. Made it work. That's what we always do, man. You're not allowed to quit until you've tried everything you can think of, hear me? You–">

Jason's voice grew quieter. <"Shit, think I used up all of Dimensional Message's energy."> He started speaking faster. <"Look. I don't care if you need to perform the impossible to come back alive. Do it anyway. It's what *I* just did, after all.">

His voice swelled with bravado. In Rob's mind, he could see Jason's taunting grin, clear as day.

<"You're not about to let me one-up you, are you?">

Their Message cut out.

Silence permeated the crisp afternoon air.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Rob immediately tried to reactivate Dimensional Message, but the Skill's energy had run dry. It was just him and the deranged voice in his head again. For all intents and purposes, he was alone once more.

Although...he didn't feel alone.

I'm an idiot. Rob wished he could turn back time and knock some sense into his past self. There was a fine line between necessary sacrifice and self-flagellation, and he'd pretty much vaulted over it like he was going for an Olympic record.

Not allowed to quit until I've tried everything I can think of. Is that right? He almost hated how much sense those words made. Sounds so obvious when it's laid out like that.

Rob still didn't think he should risk meeting with Riardin's Rangers and Hauz. The chances of that going catastrophically wrong were way too high. However, that didn't mean he should've thrown in the towel entirely. If one plan was a bust, improvise another – wasn't that how he'd gotten this far? Yet he hadn't even tried.

...I didn't want to, he was forced to admit. After letting Leveling High take control, hurting my friends...and...and killing Duran, I felt like this was what I deserved.

And what an insult that notion was. Because–

'Be happy, Rob. Enjoy your life to its fullest. Consider this my last request to you.'

–It wasn't what Duran would have wanted.

It wasn't what anyone would have wanted. Not Jason, or his parents, or Riardin's Rangers, or...

Or me.

"I want to live."

Rob clenched his fists. His throat was dry from disuse, yet his voice rose higher as he spoke. "I want to live. I want to FUCKING LIVE! To hell with dying by myself at the ass-end of the world!"

{Yes! That's–}

"FUCK OFF, YOU AREN'T PART OF THIS!"

Rob tuned out Leveling High's peanut gallery comments, activated Quick Thinking, and got to theorizing. There wasn't much sand left in the hourglass before his soul collapsed. He owed it to himself – and everyone who cared about him – to rack his brain for solutions. For what might be the final time, he thought:

What are my options?

His mind raced faster than a jet engine as he categorically went down the list. First, exclude the unfeasible. Won't be able to restrain Leveling High when around other people. Help can't come from external assistance. Also means no entering populated cities or villages.

Unpopulated areas, then? Dungeons, Loci of Power, edge of the world, Deadlands, divine realms. All connected to the gods in some fashion. Esoteric solution may be hidden at one of them.

After several moments, Rob shook his head. Not knowledgeable enough with magic to figure that out. Even for the people who are, they would need to do extended research.

He shivered with growing discomfort as a chill snaked its way up his bones. Time is premium. This'll be a rush job.

Answer has to come from me, right here, right now.

He drummed his fingers on his thigh. Perform brain surgery on myself? Hmm...no. Leveling High is attached to soul, not body. Rules out actions that solely affect physical form. Must be a Skill that primarily affects the soul. What do I have that–

Rob froze.

Precious time was wasted second-guessing himself. After all, he'd already addressed this line of thought yesterday. As amazing as some Skills were, relying on them could lead to overcentralized thinking.

Not everything was the nail to Purge Divinity's hammer.

However, while Leveling High wasn't of the divine...it was divinity-adjacent.

Precedent existed for Purge Divinity working on similar entities – like the pseudo-Corruption of aberrant Dungeons. Kismet had told him months ago that Dungeon personalities were based on the Blight. Leveling High, as a consciousness created by the gods and molded in the Original Will's image, definitely fell under the same umbrella. Both were withered branches of the gods' grotesque family tree.

Rob carefully regulated his breathing. This wasn't a guarantee. At all. But if his logic was sound...if he turned his Purging energies inward, as he'd done when cleansing himself of Corruption so many times before...

Then Purge Divinity might be able to kill Leveling High.

Had Kismet realized this, in the end? Is that why he couldn't say that mortals were incapable of removing it?

Rob quickly tamped down his excitement before it got out of hand. There were too many caveats to call this a winning strategy. For starters, Purge Divinity hadn't even been particularly effective when used on the Dungeons' pseudo-Corruption. It had felt like shoving a square peg through a round hole – you *could*, but it took a lot of extra effort, and something was bound to break in the process.

Furthermore, while his theory made sense as a logical argument, something about it just felt...off. When Rob had targeted the Blight or the gods with Purge Divinity, he'd always experienced a profound sense of rightness. As if he was using the Skill exactly for its sacred purpose.

He didn't get that impression when contemplating whether to use it on Leveling High. The idea failed to elicit that same instinctive euphoria of cleansing an evil from the world. It was likely proof that Leveling High sat outside of Purge Divinity's intended parameters. Gut feelings related to the system weren't infallible, yet they'd been right more often than not.

Spitballing here, but Leveling High has been a passenger in my soul for nearly a year now. What if that close proximity makes it harder for Purge Divinity to recognize Leveling High as a threat? Like how some viruses trick your immune system.

Rob focused on 'A Dialogue', hoping to ask the Skills for advice. Leveling High furiously blocked his attempt, its static loudening to a harsh, ear-splitting cacophony of noise.

On my own. He refused to lose composure – even as the frailty in his soul entrenched itself ever deeper. Assume that Purge Divinity will be at least slightly effective. What can I do to increase my chances? I'll need to dump my full energy stores in one go, obviously. Have to push through Leveling High's defenses. It won't take this lying down.

...Unless he convinced it otherwise.

A complicated laugh burst forth from Rob's throat. This was his big plan? Persuading the embodiment of uninhibited savagery to lower its guard and let Purge Divinity in? The irony was so thick that he could've sliced it apart and made a sandwich out of the pieces.

Because while this idea was patently absurd...it wasn't unfamiliar, really. Rob felt strangely accustomed to these types of situations.

To be blunt, he had already met a concerning number of people who'd requested for their lives to end by his hand. Kenzotul, Stonewarden Grant, the Gellin, King Elnaril, and probably more to come. Suicide-by-cop was one of Elatra's many disturbing trends, apparently. Rob had even gotten a taste of what the other end of that equation felt like during his chat with Jason – usually *he* was the one talking people off ledges.

With that in mind...how difficult could it be to make Leveling High jump onto the bandwagon? Rob had accumulated a wealth of experience related to this topic. He was practically a bonafide expert in all the right things to say.

Which meant he knew all the wrong things to say as well.

Leveling High. Rob stopped hiding his thoughts, projecting a mental voice that was completely humorless. We need to have a talk.

{So you've come to your senses?} It sounded pleased with itself. {I knew you wouldn't surrender your life so easily. While some of our differences may *seem* irreconcilable, I am certain that a bargain can be–}

No. No bargain, no deal. Just a talk.

The static briefly quieted, then resumed a moment later. {What do you mean? We don't have time for idle chatter.}

Let's say we go straight to Vul'to, Rob continued, as if he hadn't heard anything. He uses Soul Repair to fix us up. In fact, let's also say that I step aside and relinquish the driver's seat to you. You gain total autonomous control of our body, with no strings attached. What happens next?

Another pause. {Is this some sort of trick question?}

I'll answer, then. You'd go on a rampage – and not a small one. Even before Ascending, I doubt that anything on Elatra or Earth would be able to stop us. *After* Ascending, which you'd 100% do...it's a wash. The two worlds would get bulldozed until they were flat as pancakes.

Rob waited for one appropriately dramatic second. What happens next?

{Why bother asking when you seem to have all the answers?} it groused.

Oh, I was just wondering if you'd already figured out how miserable your life is about to become.

Leveling High jerked back as if it had been slapped. {I am on the brink of achieving everything that I desire. Power to crush my foes, freedom from the shackles that bind me, and immortality to revel endlessly. What more could–}

You're a junkie, Rob flatly stated, and the problem with junkies is that nothing is ever good enough. They're always seeking a greater High. I'm sure you'll have your fun killing billions of people, but afterwards, what happens next?

{I will travel to a new world. Slaughter billions more.}

Rob arched an eyebrow. And then?

{Find...another world,} it replied, stumbling mid-sentence.

You're seeing the issue. Burning ants with a magnifying glass is only going to be entertaining for so long. Where's the thrill in killing something that can't fight back? You'll get bored after three worlds, tops.

{The universe is incomprehensibly vast. Something, somewhere will possess the strength to test me.}

Don't delude yourself. We both saw the gods' memories. They traveled to untold worlds, perused the tapestry of infinity itself, and found that their power was incomparable to anything else out there.

{And yet they were slain by mortal means.}

Rob wiggled his hand in an 'eeeeh' motion. More like mortals exploited their mistakes. Without the gods creating the system, or imprisoning souls with a grudge, or thinking they were invincible, or...you get the point. We were extremely, extremely fortunate. Everything lined up *just* right in our favor.

Leveling High narrowed its eyes at him. {You act as if I wish to be defeated in battle.}

Maybe not now. Give it a couple hundred thousand years of perpetual disappointment. He shrugged. In the short term, you're still boned. Everyone here is endowed with supranatural power by a system that other worlds lack. Good luck finding people stronger than Elatra's Combat Class users to whet your appetite with. When this world has been exhausted of decent fighters...what happens next?

It took a second to respond. {I...shall stay here. The system has exhibited that it can produce powerful combatants. If I constrain my revelries to merely three-quarters of this world's population, then I can leave the remainder as seeds for the future. Champions worthy enough to challenge me will be cultivated on Elatran soil.}

Rob clapped. Better! You're learning. Alas, it won't work. You and I are simply too darn strong. On average, Elatra churns out one Level 80+ Combat Class user every several hundred years or so. Imagine waiting that long just to squash your 'worthy challenger' like a bug.

{The system can be modified.} Leveling High was beginning to sound anxious. {I'll cultivate stronger adversaries, at a faster rate.}

You would *totally* mess that up. Gonna have system errors up the wazoo. But for the sake of argument, fine, I'll buy it. Let's say that you successfully turn Elatra into a factory of Combat Class users that can entertain you without posing a real threat.

He made a show of tapping his chin. Based on the gods' memories...I give it ten thousand years before you get bored, lose your shit, and raze the place to dust and ashes.

{DO NOT COMPARE ME TO THEM!}

Buddy, you ARE them. You were made in their image. Same tendencies, same personality flaws. Although, the gods were at least a little less trigger happy; they didn't need constant bloodshed just to feel something. They hung onto their rationality by a single fraying thread. You?

Rob fixed Leveling High with a piercing gaze. You're *fucked*. A creature like you isn't built for eternity. First you'll slaughter Earth and Elatra, or try to make things work here for a while, then give up and slaughter everyone anyway. After that, it's back to searching for another inhabited world, slowly wandering across the unending void – you remember that, don't you? Nothing around for thousands of years. No stimuli whatsoever. Like a ghost drifting through a nightmare. Eventually you'll find a new world, and inevitably, it shall disappoint you as well. You will repeat this cycle over and over, losing more of your sanity with each iteration, your mind warping and fracturing, twisted into a misshapen facsimile of what it used to be. Actions that previously brought you joy will feel hollow and meaningless. A part of you will crave death, yet the rest of you will be incapable of admitting it. Desperate hope will be your only companion – until one day, at a time impossibly far from now, the heat death of the universe will arrive, and even that hope is snuffed out like a candle flame in a blizzard. You'll be left alone, surrounded by absolute cold, everlasting darkness, and bitter memories. And in that moment, when the dawn of your eternal solitude begins to rise, you will wonder:

What. Happens. Next."

A full minute of silence passed.

Rob waited on bated breath for Leveling High's response. That had been his best effort. If it dismissed or ignored his assertions...he wasn't sure what he was going to do.

But if he'd read the room correctly, and Leveling High was already feeling despondent after Kismet had brutally denied its existence, then–

{I know no other way of living.}

It was likely intended to come across as defiant. Instead, what came out sounded beaten, like a general who'd watched his army systematically executed right in front of his eyes. No vigor remained in its words. Leveling High had lost faith in both itself and the many years that awaited it hereafter.

Rob couldn't have asked for better. If he struck now, this could all be brought to the conclusion he desired.

Yet...he hesitated.

In what was probably a certifiable case of Stockholm Syndrome, Rob found himself pitying Leveling High. Humanity's curse may have been a true blue bastard, but considering that its creators had molded it to be exactly that, how could it have possibly become anything else? Its prospects were doomed from the start. Plus, he'd felt Leveling High's genuine hatred towards the gods – wasn't much different from his own. That garnered a very Rob-specific type of sympathy.

For a brief moment, he entertained fantasies of rehabilitating Leveling High. It didn't have to stay as a bastard. With time, compassion, and understanding, perhaps it could learn to enjoy life outside of just wallowing in carnage. They could create a new body for it like with Diplomacy; give it the opportunity that the gods never had.

Then reality came crashing down. Leveling High wasn't just 'a little crazy' – there was a reason it was synonymous with Elatran insanity. Unfucking its mentality would be a project. Even if helping it was feasible at all, how long would that take? Years? Decades? Centuries? During which Rob would need to be isolated to protect others?

...No. Sorry, but no. That wasn't an option.

Not when he had people waiting for him.

It was time to take back his life.

You know... Rob adopted a lighthearted tone. Although we can't level up anymore, we do still receive EXP. Just gets stockpiled in our soul.

{To no purpose,} Leveling High said, despondent. {I am aware.}

Why so glum? Think of your Experience as a trophy. It's like proof that you've conquered a mighty foe! Of course, with how strong your body is now, I doubt there's anything in the universe that will grant even a crumb of EXP.

Rob paused. Mostly.

Despite itself, Leveling High perked up. {What are you implying?}

That right now, you have two choices. You can continue as you were planning before – microdosing joy until you hit rapidly diminishing returns, followed by a lonely hell that never ends. Or...

His eyes widened. Blaze of glory. You choose to feel the heady, intoxicating ecstasy of EXP flowing into you once again. Few things would be capable of giving you that...but the co-owner of an ascendant HUMAN's body? Participant of the deicide of Blights and gods? I think that more than qualifies.

An insane, maniacal grin spread up Rob's face. Don't you want to see how much EXP you'd get if you killed yourself?

It started as a giggle.

Just a tiny mirthful sound, as if Leveling High had heard an amusing dad joke. The giggle continued unbroken for ten seconds straight – until it elevated to a chuckle, brimming with merriment and joy. Leveling High chuckled on and on, its voice rising in intensity with every passing second. Finally, the chuckle ascended to full-blown laughter, a sonorous, belly-deep noise that echoed throughout the recesses of Rob's head.

{HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!} Leveling High was shaking violently. {SO THAT'S YOUR ANGLE?! YES! I LOVE IT! THE ULTIMATE HUNT! DELIVERANCE FROM PAIN! AN END TO THIS VAIN, MEANDERING FARCE OF A LIFE! BLAZE OF GLORY! ERUPTION OF REVELRY!}

It surged forward, grabbing hold of Rob's consciousness in an iron grip. {HOW?! HOW DO WE ACHIEVE THIS?!}

Rob didn't know how he answered calmly, but he did. Purge Divinity could work. You'll have to lower your guard and–

{DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT!}

Leveling High halfway shoved Rob out of the driver's seat of their shared body. The HUMAN allowed it to do so, intentionally relinquishing a degree of control, and then guided the curse to Purge Divinity's energy reserves.

Together, they activated the Skill and mentally aimed it towards the ever-present static in Rob's mind.

Purge {DIVINITY!}

Nothing happened.

The Skill did activate, and its energy was being expended. But other than that...zilch. Purge Divinity bounced off the static like a waterfall colliding with solid steel.

If anything, Leveling High felt more disappointed than Rob. They both kept pushing, consuming increasing amounts of energy, trying to force an opening where none was. Humanity's curse screamed obscenities at itself, willing its own defenses to falter.

A change suddenly occurred – although not the one either had hoped for. With a muted gasp, Rob felt his soul tremble. Cracks spread through his essence in a spiderweb of encroaching death. His body became suffused with frailty and weakness.

He had less time left than he'd thought. If this endeavor failed, then–

{There.}

Its voice low and callous, Leveling High pointed at one minuscule spot amongst the deluge of static. Purge Divinity had reacted with...something. Like a loose end snagging on an infinitesimal nail.

Throwing caution to the wind, Rob pushed Purge Divinity past its limit, betting his life on advice given by a madman that would've gladly slaughtered everything and everyone.

The loose end snagged a second time. Then a third. Gradually, steadily, a vulnerability took shape in the form of a small hole. It was widened by cleansing energy, which picked up momentum as the vulnerability grew larger. Almost as if the Skill now understood that the solemn duty it has been forged for was not yet finished.

A foul offshoot of divinity resided here, and it would be Purged.

That was about when the burning sensation started – like hot lava being poured in Rob's veins. He'd expected as much. Leveling High was deeply entangled with his soul. Even in an ideal scenario, separating them was never going to be a painless procedure.

On his list of Elatran pains, he ranked it...in the Top 10. Maybe Top 5 if he was feeling generous. It certainly wasn't enough to deter him in the slightest.

Rob grasped the pain and used it as motivation to keep pushing further. He summoned a year's worth of emotion as added fuel, beginning from the moment when Duran first told him what Leveling High meant, and that two words on his Status Screen would define his new life as a Human. It all became kindling on the pyre of necessity, bringing him one step closer to the light at the end of a long tunnel.

Beyond this transitory suffering lay the salvation he'd dreamt of.

The static flared with Purging energy, like dry twigs that had caught fire. Leveling High let out a screech of agonized exhilaration. Rob nearly blacked out, and might have if not for the curse lifting him up – only to yell into his ear with urgent ferocity.

{DO YOU THINK THIS TO BE THE END?!} Even as it shouted, Leveling High focused on Purging itself. {THAT THIS IS YOUR FREEDOM?! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! I KNOW THE CONTOURS OF YOUR EXISTENCE! YOU ARE A BODY ENDLESSLY HEALING, SHELTERING A MIND HOPELESSLY SCARRED! A KILLER MASQUERADING AS A MAN! MY INFLUENCE HAS WARPED YOUR SOUL BEYOND RECOGNITION!}

That's life. Rob pushed to match Leveling High's Purging fervor. You take some hits, lick your wounds, get back up. It's okay to change. I'm still me.

{ARE YOU?} It kept Purging. {YOU CANNOT HIDE YOUR BLOODLUST FROM THAT WHICH EMBODIES THE FEELING! HUMAN, YOU HAVE GROWN TO *ADORE* COMBAT – TO REVEL IN IT! HOW CAN LASTING PEACE BE SUSTAINED BY SOMEONE DRENCHED IN DEATH?}

With vigilance. Rob kept Purging. You aren't going to win this debate, for the record. I've tackled these doubts already. You're late to the party.

{YET YOU DID NOT DENY HAVING A LOVE FOR BLOODSHED!}

I'm a freaking BERSERKER. Enjoying the thrill of battle comes with the territory. Doesn't mean I can't also channel my energy into something more constructive moving forward. I'll be happy to hang up my crate of Firebombs when the fighting is over.

{AND WHEN YOU GET BORED OF PLAYING PEACEMAKER? WHEN THE URGE TO KILL INSISTS UPON YOU, AS IF MY PRESENCE NEVER LEFT? WHEN YOU CRAVE THE CLOYING NECTAR OF EXP ONCE MORE?}

I'll beat up a Dungeon. Or just watch Netflix. Unlike you, I have multiple hobbies.

His eyes narrowed. And let's get something straight. No matter how many times you infused me with artificial joy, you *still* never managed to turn me into a heartless murderer. Everything I've done, even the stuff that keeps me up at night, has been for the sake of a brighter tomorrow filled with happier people. I can be–

A lump formed in Rob's throat. He almost didn't finish the thought. It felt dangerously close to a self-indulgent lie.

But if he didn't make an earnest effort to accept it...he would be betraying the love and trust of everyone who cared for him.

I can be proud of the person I am now.

For some reason, that made Leveling High start laughing again. Despite most of the static having vanished by now, its voice remained strong and insistent. {TO STEAL YOUR WORDS...GIVE IT A COUPLE HUNDRED YEARS OF PERPETUAL DISAPPOINTMENT. EVENTUALLY, YOU WILL BE NO DIFFERENT THAN THOSE WHOM YOU DESPISE.}

Rob shrugged, his vision blurring with pain and exertion. Guess I'll just have to prove you wrong.

{TRY!} Leveling High doused itself in Purging energy. Its laughter reached a crescendo of insanity. {AND WHEN YOU FAIL, REMEMBER THE ONE WHO WARNED YOU! REMEMBER THIS VOICE – THE VOICE OF YOUR FUTURE SELF!}

The static exploded into an inferno, myriad energies thrashing about within Rob's soul. His senses lit up like a kaleidoscope of contradictory sensations.

{I'LL BE WAITING FOR YOU IN OBLIVION, ROB!}

He blacked out for real.

When he awoke, there was an absence of sound.

Rob had experienced something similar to it before – during the blissful period when Vul'to sealed away Leveling High. Back then, however, he'd still felt a vague sense of...unease. Like the Sunday night preceding a busy Monday. He'd known his reprieve was temporary, and that the seal would one day fall, so any relief had been tinged with apprehension.

Not so, now. This silence was full and complete. The static had disappeared entirely.

Leveling High was gone.

And it just *had* to get the last word in, Rob grumbled. Although...he actually appreciated that, in a way. Nothing would motivate him more to prove Leveling High wrong than a healthy dose of spite.

If he ever faltered in the future, he would only need to think back to how annoyed he was in this very moment. It was the curse's dying gift to–

Alert: Soul Instability is worsening!

Rob's knees buckled and fell.

His muscles no longer functioned as they should. Inside, he felt an ephemeral something tearing apart. As if the core of his essence was coming undone.

After going months without a Hauz tune-up, and being injected twice with the god's mana...using Purge Divinity on Leveling High had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

His soul was collapsing.

Clarity settled upon Rob's mind. He understood that he had at most several seconds before blacking out again – and entering a sleep from which he would never awaken. It was enough time to muster his strength and cast one Waymark to one location.

He chose immediately. Wayma–

Error: Due to your Soul Instability, Waymark has failed to activate!

Shit. Way–