Time passes slowly in the Underwasteland.

It is the slowest in the entire universe. One hour here is equivalent to one year on the dragon planet, or ten years on the human planet.

Objectively it’s the fastest, I know, but from my perspective time never passes… it's so slow!

These are things handed down from my father's education. I have no way of verifying.

As much as [Dungeon path] allows me to wander freely in the dungeon… there is no way: ash desert and oceanic abyss are the two extremes of my world.

Of my thousand years of mandate.

Or ten thousand, if I want to follow in my father's tracks.

This temporal difference is essential. It is no coincidence that Underwasteland is so distant from everything, on the edge of reality itself.

If that wasn't the case, I would be overwhelmed with work. No living being, which I believe I am anyway, could ever handle countless deaths at once.

It would be chaos.

The impossible overflow of the afterlife.

So instead, it is enough for two beings to expire at slightly different times that even two or three hours pass before the membrane falls off.

It is rare for there to be more than five deaths at one time.

My father told me about it, but in twenty-one years I haven't seen any.

Sure that…

…I feel lonely.

I'm thinking of you, father. But, of course, you don't answer.

Even when you were alive you couldn't read thoughts.

I look at the black pool that extends to infinity. Under the roof of the immense cave.

My father measured it. How big is it?

Hmm… between the ground and the ceiling and the walls… the radius is about eight hundred thousand miles, already. Huge…

But still tiny compared to the cosmos or the abyss itself.

The surface waters are calm and, in the distance, the waterfalls of the Whirlpool of souls can be heard echoing. A lake in constant storm a few floors up, in the dungeon.

In this place there is darkness.

I can't see anything beyond the platform. Even the [Will-o'-the-wisps] of the street lamps that light the way, or my eyes, see nothing but darkness.

Father, no, for once: Dad, today I ferried my first life.

I will be your worthy successor, so don't worry. May this abyss remain as calm during my reign as it has been in yours.

Ci-cin.

I turn towards the streetlights.

Now I feel better, freed from a burden.

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It's been just under an hour since my first sentence, yet I feel so alone.

I could go back to the house in the desert, using [Dungeon path]. But I prefer to cross a bit of the dock.

The lights of the street lamps illuminate up to a majestic obsidian staircase. From there you access the penultimate floor of the dungeon, where the most horrible creatures rest.

For many years, I have never been allowed to walk in the dungeon. Only the [Emperor], with his power to pacify eternal sleep, can.

Not that sleepers wake up, but some of them are dangerous even while sleeping.

This is why placing my foot on the smooth step is a very strange, new sensation.

In front of me, how many? One hundred thousand, two hundred thousand steps?

From here I cannot see the Golden Doors that separate this area from the others.

All right, I feel satisfied.

Ci-cin.

I use [Dungeon path] and find myself on the porch.

My ears droop, although there is no wind – an element I know from the stories of the dead – the air here is dry and cold. Much more pleasant than the freezing humidity of the abyss.

The chessboard is still there, but there's no one worth rearranging it for.

I look at the sky. Bodies floating at unattainable heights and lightning intersperses them.

It's early, no creatures coming.

“Open.”

The grimoire appears in my hand.

My stats are unchanged, except for [xp] – up by [1] measly point – and one of the empty slots. Now it bears [ip].

[ip] was the stat the dog had in place of the magic value.

Who knows what that means?

I try to activate it and my table changes.

A sense of power comes over me.

[hp: 2365]

[s: 2][c: 3]―[d: 6][i: 5][…][…]

[ap: 3562]

[c: 3][i: 5]―[d: 6][s: 2][…][…]

[ip: 6235]

[d: 6][s: 2]―[c: 3][i: 5][…][…]

[ip] I hear it now.

It's clear to me what this means: they are the irrational parameters, the ones I can't control with my mind.

Ci-cin.

I wonder if my tails are affected by this parameter.

Well, I have no way of checking them anyway. Ironically, they are currently my highest stat!

I put my wrist to my mouth and chuckle softly.

[Scan] allows me to see other being's statistics and, if compatible, index them for me.

Good, but now?

The news is over…

I straighten my skirt and enter the house.

The two chairs, the table, the pantry, the kitchen… all this charred wood and stone.

I realize, feeling my pockets, that I still have the bone berries.

I sit at the table to eat them.

No smell, the taste of ash.

I throw them into my mouth one after the other, intent on thinking about what to do.

Twenty-one levels, twenty-one years and I have always been in company.

Ah, father!

You should have prepared me for this! Maybe abandoning me for days in the desert!

But what am I saying… oh, mindless!

I run my fingernail through my hair, curl it, and release it. Black and flowing like a river.

One moment!

There is one thing I can do.

“Open!”

The faithful grimoire appears.

[Necromancy: 1]

Here you are.

Here's what I can do.

Waking someone up from sleep, convincing them to spend time with me.

However…

Waking up someone who has an eternity of beautiful dreams wouldn't be right. I would definitely have to fish for some evil individual.

Hmm… I already feel like this is a stupid idea, let's forget about it.

Ci-cin.

My snake-headed tail stands erect and looks into the other inner room. There are no windows in there, the light only filters through the cracks between the boards.

I glimpse the bed, a wardrobe, and the desk.

My father never knew either.

Who put us here? What are these things for?

Why this little house at the top of a large maze?

I'm here because my father and mother were here.

My father too, same fate.

However, I never knew my mother. She died on a distant planet, and since my father was about to reach ten thousand years old, he kept her with him for a while before using [Judgment].

One thing led to another; he told me.

Ci-cin.

“What's up? You are restless today.”

Tail doesn't listen to me. How could it? It's a tail.

It continues to look around, twisting and approaching surfaces. I guess it's the [ip] effect. Of the two tails, this is the more responsive.

But there's no way to understand what it wants.

“Pwheee…” I spread my arms and rested my cheek on the table.

I shake my ears and a cloud of ash rises.

I watch it disperse, falling back onto the table. Some ash ends up on my nose and I feel like sneezing. I try to hold the air but…

“Etciù!”

Ci-cin.

A shiver that shakes me all over.

Now there is much more dust fluttering than before.

I wonder if dogs sneeze too? My tails don't and I don't remember any deceased who did.

But I remember their smells. Particular, exotic…

Here not even my sneeze seems to smell.

“How boring.”