The Whirlpool and the Ocean are fed by the two underground rivers of the Underwasteland. Rivers do not have names, just as most places in hell do not.

I often think about rivers. Many rivers and streams originate from them. They emerge and disappear suddenly, following multiple and difficult-to-map routes.

My father once encountered a dead diver on an underground excursion. A current and an underground ocean, absolute darkness. That guy made me think a lot, even at [lv: 5] I was very scared of the ocean and his story scared me even more.

But anyway…

…today the situation is different.

Gron is in the fluorescent stream splashing happily. It's a cat full of surprises, but I'm glad to make it happy.

On the shore, I observe the stone walls of a complex on the other side. There are some dead weeping willows, their charred trunks forming an ancient forest.

“Aren't you taking a bath?”

Gron comes out of the water soaked and shakes itself, splashing everywhere, and dripping onto the sand which becomes soaked.

“Water scares me.”

I answer truthfully, after all, why lie to it?

“Uh, I see. Originally it scared me too. Where I come from, the cities are all located near a watercourse. People wash often and in some places I have visited, they even use collective baths as community events. However, I understand you, in the sense, you don't smell. Everything here is so odorless that I can smell my own, even if I have washed myself.”

I move my feet in the sand, collect a handful of ash in my hand, and let it fall between my fingers.

“The ash covers everything,” my tail observes my hand. “I think I have a smell, but I've never smelled it. My father said it was because of the ash. This is why the smell of the dead is perceptible, you are not yet impregnated with ash.”

Gron shakes again and then comes to sit next to me.

“Prr… with all due respect to you and your father, you are gods after all.”

“I'm not so sure.”

“Okay, from my point of view, you are. However, I was saying, with all due respect: I think it is a silly and unnaturalistic explanation.”

Ci-cin.

I shake my head, perplexed.

“Naturalistic?”

“Yes, naturalistic, scientific. Dal-Dazzer spent much of his life trying to explain natural phenomena and couldn't stand such approximate explanations. The ash that covers every smell, prrr, suggestive. Certainly suggestive, but nothing more.”

“And did your master achieve any results with this attitude?”

Gron looks at me, blinks, and lifts its chest. Seeing it like this it seems surrounded by a red mane.

“If you say that I start to doubt. Is it that easy to create life?”

This time I blink. “In what sense?”

“Prr… N, you don't notice my creator's masterpiece. I emphasize to you, do not be offended: of my creator. Do you want a little drawing? A letter that explains in detail what is amazing about Gron, the cat-golem?”

Gron stands stiffly. I said something that …oh!

Of course!

“Gron but you are a golem! You shouldn't be alive!”

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Golems are lifeless constructs. They may simulate it but, in reality, they are just an extension of their creator. Some golems survive their creator but only because the latter partially remains within them.

Independent life, the life of a being judged by [Judgment] is a different thing. Something that can only be replicated with procedures linked to the System.

If Gron is here, it means that Dal-Dazzer has found a way to create a golem by following those procedures and thus be able to generate life out of them!

It's incredible!

“This is divine power!” I am shocked.

“Prr-prrr. You finally understood it.”

Ci-cin.

I'm not sure what to answer. Its confidence and proud attitude now have a different meaning.

Gron is not a cat and it is not a golem. Not in a traditional sense.

Gron is a divine construct.

How an inhabitant of the cosmos like Dal-Dazzer managed such a feat is truly a mystery. Well, I could ask Gron just that, instead of staying silent as a fool.

“Shh, N, did you see?”

Gron stands on all fours and raises its fur and tail.

It shakes its ears and tries to look from the other side of the river, towards which it is pointing.

I don't hear any unusual noises and even when I look closely, I don't see anything suspicious.

“I don't see anything strange, I'm sorry... can you tell me more?”

“I glimpsed something moving among the plants.”

My tail sticks out and hisses.

“Hmm, look, there's no one in the dungeon who can move…”

I know it's not true, an individual capable of moving through the streets of the dungeon exists and is free. But I doubt that dreadful bird is here.

But Gron is standing on end and blowing.

“Okay, wait here. I'll go check and come back, please don't leave.”

I use [Dungeon path] and emerge among the shadows of the willows.

[Will-o'-the-wisp]

[Will-o'-the-wisp]

[Will-o'-the-wisp]

I illuminate various corners and walled areas. The only things moving are the shadows traced by the cold flames.

[Shadow wall]

It's the first time I've used this ability and I've tried it to sink into walls and move like a shadow. The ability allows me to be merged with surrounding shadows, but I don't pick up any movement.

I emerge at the foot of a huge, gnarled willow tree. I sit on one of its roots.

Ci-cin.

Yes, tail, I think there's no one there. Who knows what Gron saw…?

Well, I can go back and tell it there's nothing to fear. The only enemy I fear is not here.

[Dungeon path]

♦

Gron is not on the shore.

How long was I gone? About five, ten minutes tops. Is it possible that it disappeared!?

The anxiety, the anxiety. Damn, I got fooled…

Gron kept saying it wasn't ready and then faked that scene. It must be on the run somewhere. It would already be the second deceased that I let slip away…

[Necromancy]

[Necrohounds] are summoned from the beach. They wheeze angrily and shadow drips from their hungry bodies. Masses of teeth and ink rolling restlessly in the sand.

This is a surprise.

“Scan.”

[Necrohound] is an undead with the powers of the summoner's shadow. Suitable for hunting and poaching.

[mastery: 1]

[other requires]

[Necromancy], [Shadow wall]

Ci-cin.

As usual, the undead thralls already know why they were called and melt into the ground.

They left to hunt.

Gron can't have gone far and I can't afford to lose it.

[Dungeon path] and I get to the nearest wall. [Shadow wall] and I immerse myself in it.

I sense my hounds and understand the direction they are going.

Gron may be an adventure cat, but like all the dead it can be sniffed out in the dungeon. Is this why Gron asked me about the ash and odors?

Well, it doesn't matter.

I reappear here and there among the shadows until I reach the hounds at a spiral stone staircase. Gron got stuck on a broken step. Between Gron and the continuation of its escape, there is a dim abyss.

The hounds growl and snarl but do not attack it.

Gron's fur is standing on end and it's shaking all over. It looks in my direction with big round eyes and its ears low, pulled back, and follows my emergence from the wall.

“Gron…”

“Please don't hurt me! I, I… don't blame me, I understood that it's not a dream, I understood everything… sorry if I deceived you if I tried to escape. But I'm not lying, I'm really not ready! I don't want to, please, I don't want to disappear forever!”

Ci-cin.

I make my way over to the dogs who seem to calm down, immersing themselves face-deep in the stairs. I walk over to their ink puddles and Gron tries to back away.

“So, you will fall.”

“I didn't want to deceive you. I didn't want to. I didn't want to!”

“I believe you.” I try to see if its body bears new wounds, but it doesn't.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Luckily the [Necrohounds] only cornered it. Gron didn't attack me and so, for now, it could still keep a [Judgment: Dream].

It is wary, whistles at me, and shows me its sharp teeth. But it can no longer retreat.

“I believe you, Gron.”

I lower myself onto my heels. Gron leaps back but slips and loses grip.

Its eyes widen and I see it is already lost in the darkness.

It stretches out a paw towards me…

…it's too far.

Ci-cin!

As I reached out to grab it, my tail shot out and is now squeezing it like a salami.

“Oh!” I put my hands to my mouth, I'm out of breath.

Gron doesn't say anything, it keeps its eyes wide open while it is held tight in my coils.

I got it.

Luckily, I got it!