In my house, Y looks around and touches the walls and furniture. She caresses and feels with her hands and tails. She smells despite the absence of odor.

Seeing the coral encrustations, she makes worried expressions and asks me where the chessboard is.

When I show her the coral aberration that is supposed to be the chessboard, she sits back on her heels. Thoughtful.

“Now I'll put it away. So, we can play while we talk.”

Her tails begin to bite and tear the corals. Their teeth shred the pieces, and the chessboard re-emerges from that pile of errors.

With Gron in my arms, I watch in admiration. I have never seen the deletion of an error. I know that [Devil] absorbed them, but this case is different.

Y lays her hands on the ruined pieces and the board.

A smell of oil begins to come from her, and the mass of errors with the pieces of her catches fire.

A dark fire. The one of the depths.

When the flames dissipate, the chess board is perfectly new, and the pieces are mended. There is not even any dust.

She picks up the game and the pieces and turns to me.

“A temporary remedy, unfortunately, if the Devil's problem is not solved. The errors cannot be erased. But in the meantime, we can play.”

We sit on the cushions in the room and place the chessboard in the middle.

See those shiny pieces, the ferryman, the warlock, and all the others. How long has it been since I could play a game?

Much. Who knows if I can still play decently?

Y smiles at me affably, and placing one hand on her bare heel, she makes the opening move with the other.

A classic [F] opening.

I remember it. I know what moves it follows.

I smile. It is my turn.

♦

“Do you mind if I start from the beginning?” Y puts her hand on her chest and gives me a mischievous look.

“Go ahead, listening isn't a problem for me.”

I am sincere.

For me, listening is a pleasure. The story of such an ancient creature cannot help but prove interesting, regardless of the circumstances.

“Well, let's start with the threat itself.”

The [Bakenekro] moves [W] and sacrifices a [f] to move it again.

“It's called Irferno. This is the name of the entity awakened by mortals. It remained in stasis for eons thanks to the Sanctuary spell. You probably named the area the same way for a sort of reminiscence of the species.”

I can accept it as an explanation, but that is not the point.

“How come you used such a powerful spell?”

“Uh, wait, don't rush. So…” She touches her lip with index finger. “Yes. Irferno is one of the oldest Eldritch Entities. Like it, originally, there were many others. Their purpose was to shape the universe. They were a sort of puppets of the System. They have no free will.”

“What do you mean?”

“By free will, I mean the ability to choose between at least two options. Irferno, like its peers, was not capable. Free to act at will. But to achieve a single goal. A single option from different paths. That is, to conform everything to its rule.”

“Hmm, and what would your rule be?”

“Melting, crushing, digging. The purpose of it is to create holes. Breaks in continuity. Irferno doesn't know it, but the purpose is clear enough—for me to have access to the archives. That is.”

I move my [G] across the board, taking it out of check.

“Could you enlighten me, please?”

She smiles. She makes funny faces and moves her foot while she thinks about her next move.

“Her purpose was to dig the tunnels of the Underwasteland.”

“But that's not possible! The dungeon is capable of self-repairing.”

“Right, the inorganic matter here has this property. But you see, Irferno has a unique Incinerator skill. Differently from Obliteration, which applies to the erasure of an individual, its skill obliterates specific parts of reality. The dungeon cannot regenerate something that no longer exists. It can only rearrange itself around it.”

I move the [K], attempting a defense for my [W]. At the same time, I put pressure on her [K].

“But I saw a wall destroyed by it. Even ice. They were regenerating.”

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“This is because Incinerator is a skill that requires enormous amounts of energy. Irferno would never use it for no reason.”

“You said before that it can't choose!”

Y raises her hand. She untangles a lock of hair. Some heads between her tails roll up and untangle themselves.

“Could not. I said it couldn't.”

“So now it can?”

“Billions of years ago, it happened that the first Bakenekro achieved the purpose of cleaning up the overabundance of entities. At the time, exclusively Eldritch Entity. There were too many and too powerful, and their functions, often disharmonious with each other, only brought havoc. The System was unable to comply with its own rules.”

I shake my ears. I run a hand under my chin. The game is now lost, so I focus on the speech.

“So, are you telling me that the first Bakenekro was a god of death?”

“Of beings beyond level ninety. Exact. His work was excellent, and I eliminated all except a few beings. The first backup, the prototype of the Devil, Irferno, himself, and the System.”

“Is the System a mortal being?”

“No, but I count it as an entity without free will.”

I have a hard time following it.

Talking about free will and beings that are alive without being able to choose. Can I define sentient puppets?

And then they are not living.

But it does not matter. Y and I are different. I do not feel cut out for these things. She seems knowledgeable and comfortable with her.

“So?” I move [F] to eat [K]. But without thinking about it.

“So, an imbalance has been created. Underwasteland was born precisely to balance this cosmic imbalance. The room beyond the Golden Doors is the first, the most important.”

Again, these Golden Doors that I cannot remember.

“Irferno created a complex habitat of ruptures between this room and the rest of the universe. The dungeon. The dead, the other dead, are a sort of buffer between the sleepers beyond the Golden Doors and the living lost in the dark sea.”

Y checkmates me and smiles at me.

I start to reposition the pieces. I run my finger across the surface of a [K]. Perfectly purified from error.

“Y, what you tell me doesn't add up to me for one thing.”

“Tell me.”

“If Irferno is useful, why…”

“I realized. I was getting there. Irferno has also gained the functions of other Eldritch Entities, such as the Devil. Like everyone else. Having equally important and equally urgent tasks creates internal conflicts. Here, the puppet develops the need to resolve the conflict on its own.”

I scratch my temple.

Sigh.

I will summarize it. The System created a situation in which Irferno had to choose, developing free will.

I gesture to continue.

“At that point, Irferno developed a solution that combined its two directives. That of creating ruptures, holes, and divisive tunnels and harmonizing the space-time of the entire universe.”

HUH!?

But what is she saying?

“Sorry, but why give a single being two opposed tasks? How can you solve such a dilemma!?”

Y sighs.

“The first Bakenekro thought something like ‘uniting opposites will prevent them from fighting each other.’ But he was wrong. He only moved the conflict from external to internal. From two opposing creatures to a dysfunctional creature.”

“So?”

I feel a sort of anguish come over me. Even if I do not understand the whole picture, it is clear to me that a point of no return is coming.

“What solution did Irferno find to the dilemma?”

“Simple.” It is Y's turn to move, but instead of opening the game, she caresses the skull of one of her tails. “Simple… it decided to incinerate the tree. Destroying space-time to harmonize it in the homogeneity of a non-existence, a cosmic hole. Or something similar.”

“…”

“N, listen. I am not Irferno. I am a second-generation creature, and certain defects have been resolved. The point is that Incinerate is a limited skill. To use it as you would like it, you need to reach the Interface. There, as a primordial undead, Irferno can request access to privileges and—”

Ci-cin.

I raise my arm. I lower my head. I understand this. There's no need to add anything else.

“Let's keep it short. As Empress, I must stop it, as it was for Kirlh'iau, the Devil, and every other invader.”

Y nods. The skulls are jaw-dropping.

“All right. I will do my best. But doesn't the System set off the alarm?”

“I must report Irferno as an enemy. Last time, rather than doing this, I preferred to use my most powerful technique to stop it. A ninth-level Time ability, Sanctuary.”

I smile.

My father also mastered [Time], not [Necromancy] like me.

But it is a bitter smile. Because, I will have to stop it with [Necromancy], not even [mastery: 9].

“Why don't you stop it again?”

“I thought about it. But there is a second problem here that I cannot ignore. The plague of error and the damage, I fear sabotage, of memory. If I get stuck again, the Underwasteland is doomed.”

Pak!

I slap my thigh.

Gron inserts itself between us. It begins to move some pieces with its paws.

“Yes?” Y tilts her head.

“Tell us Gron.”

“There, er—Maybe my creator could help us. If he is beyond the Golden Doors… prrr.”

“Hmm, don't be hasty Gron. We're not even sure he's dead. Or really over level sixty-something…” I sigh.

“Your creator? Aren't you a cat?” Y shifts to her knees and stares at Gron intently. “OH. Interesting, at first glance. I didn't notice! Yes, yes, definitely very interesting. A being like you, similar to primordial creatures. Maybe even superior in magical engineering… hmm.”

“Y?”

“Maybe its creator isn't an Eldritch Entity, but he certainly possesses similar power.”

I nod. I thought so too, when I discovered Gron…

…when did I find out?

I remember the water.

An escape. Me catching Gron before it falls into an abyss—no, not an abyss. They were broken stairs. My [Necrohounds] were there, and it was scary.

Y rolls her eyes a couple of times. She presses with her index finger in mid-air and repeats the entire sequence of gestures a couple of times.

“So, Gron, tell me the name of your creator.”

Gron passes a paw over its head and muzzle. It takes a breath. “Dal-Dazzer, Dal for me. An alchemist of great power.”

Y nods and sits down cross-legged. She falls into a long silence. She continues to move her ankle. She massages it with her free hand.

“Found!”

“I know?”

“Eh, unfortunately, he is not beyond the Golden Doors.”

I feel a moment of discomfort. Gron also lowers its gaze and its tail.

“But he still passed away. And it's a remarkable level. Seventy-five. He also has some unique skills, wow, after those elves, I have to admit that in this age, there are people with incredible skills.”

I struggle to understand what she means by ‘incredible’ considering the destructive potential of all ancient forces.

[Corruption], [Obliteration], [Incinerator]…

And even [Judgment].

Resolving [skills] are incomparable to the variety of magical [skills] I know.

But maybe that is exactly the point.

Y comes from a time when [skills] were only far-reaching, not very versatile, and suited to shaping great wild spaces.

The desert, the tree, and the cosmos.

In this sense, yes, all the people I have met over the years have shown unique [skills] and admirable [abilities].

However…

“Y, is this Dal-Dazzer a possible help to our cause?”

I see Gron's eyes widen. It does not say anything and just stares at me.

“It can certainly be a valid help.”

“All I need to do is use Necromancy. Tell me where is that—”

“You run too much. Necromancy only works on those you have previously judged. Or it can create hybrids between the judged dead and your magical abilities.”

I shake my head and put my hands on my knees. “So, I can't call him back?”

“I didn't say this, but it will have to transform. I can tell you what to do. In the meantime, I will update the archive and mark Irferno as an enemy. So, if it arrives at the interface, you can intercept it.”

Ci-cin!

Standing sprint.

“Let's work.”