In the desert house, I spend my days lazing around, fencing, drinking herbal teas, and putting the deceased to rest. These are rarer. After two extinction events, a prosperous time must finally have arrived for the creatures of the cosmos.

The membrane in the sky is clear and reflects the light from the horizon with greater intensity. An orange-yellow aurora emerged in the starless and lightning-filled sky.

Ci-cin.

I'm taking a berry tea while I play chess alone. It's quite boring but I don't have much to do.

I think back to the meetings, to the fact that after Sylviette went to rest I wasn't able to bond with anyone. I still listen to their stories. I am patient and try to comfort everyone, but I can't bond with anyone.

I shake my head to clear away the negative thoughts. I smell the steam coming from the cup.

The pieces are strange. A metamorphosis is underway.

Their surface has become wrinkled and full of pores. I run my finger over the surface of the various pieces and observe them curiously.

[Devil]'s effect?

Perhaps deterioration linked to the digestion of the [Leviathan]…

I move [F] and give myself a check to the green. It's checkmate.

Ci-cin.

…how boring.

I put the cup down. I check the library. Even though the [Leviathan] has been eating the [Devil] for more than a month, the [WARNING] message does not disappear.

The desert is empty as always. I sigh.

I let myself fall back with hunched shoulders, kneeling on the cushion. My hair moves.

Ci-cin.

I roll my eyes. My hair sways delicately and a warm breeze caresses my skin.

Bizarre.

Very bizarre.

Ci-cin.

It comes from the desert and is strong enough to make bells swing.

I stand up and reach the threshold of the veranda. I lean on a beam of the shed and let the wind make my black hair sway.

Dark clouds on the horizon. A massive concentration of thunder and a compact, extended front for miles.

An extinction event?

No, it's not the kind of thickening of previous times.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I go back into the house and take the umbrella. I go out.

[Dungeon path]

CI-CIN, CI-CIN, CI-CIN, CI-CIN, CI-CIN…!

The force of the wind scatters my hair everywhere, makes my skirt flutter and the bells sway uncontrollably. The tails are tense and I feel such pressure on my body that I lose grip on the sand that flies away from under my feet.

I have to protect my face with my hands and I struggle to move. The front cannot be approached any further. Distant thunder hits the desert.

How many miles still separate me from the origin of the wind? Many, certainly many.

I take a few steps forward but the wind and unstable sand make me lose my balance. I fall and the sand flying at knee height forces me to jump up and I almost fall again.

[Dungeon path]

A few miles further back the wind is bearable and the sand does not rise above the ankle.

I can see now.

A giant ash tornado takes shape in that block of clouds. Multiple cones do not complete the shape and swirl around the massive central monolith.

An anomalous weather event?

How is it possible?

I retrace the memories of chats with my father. But it is a vain operation. In ten thousand years, he has never encountered any atmospheric changes.

Or he didn't tell me about it…

…but I'm starting to not believe this possibility. My father didn't teach me many things because he didn't know them.

And he didn't know them because they didn't happen.

[Leviathan] also said that something started to move after his death. It was a plan devised by a patient and waiting mind.

The God of Wisdom.

Even though I have no proof. Even if they are just guesses. By feeling…

…I know it's about the God of Wisdom.

A new attack attempt? To break the System?

I chase away these useless and unlikely thoughts.

A storm is a storm and I have to figure out what to do in case it hits the house. The Underwasteland repairs itself, so I shouldn't worry. Nevertheless…

…the experiences I have lived suggest me to stay alert.

Restlessness and paranoia make me stand still and observe the birth of that storm.

I'm looking for tracks. Of the [Devil], of the dead, of the God of Wisdom, or of that white [Fiend]. I'm looking for tracks that aren't there.

Boom!

Lightning strikes a few miles from me. Better go back.

♦

The window panes tremble under the pressure of the wind.

I put the cushions and chess pieces inside and closed the porch door. It's strange. It is the first door I close in my house intending to separate inside and outside.

I don't have much to do at home. It's not raining outside, so I watch the tornado from the window.

There are errant whirlwinds but the central tower is immobile and raises a cloud of sand at the base.

I leave the window and head to the trap door. I lift it and sit on the first step of the staircase.

No sounds or lights are coming from the dungeon. There are no more traces of drool and the situation is calm.

I click my index finger on the floor and yawn.

Tornado or not, I can't stay here forever doing nothing. Better to take advantage of this period of tranquility—but to do what?

Could I hunt the [Fiend]?

Hm, no. As long as it's low level or doesn't reach the [core] I can assume it's unobtainable.

Could I look for another entrance to the Golden Doors? Not a bad idea. It's research that needs to be done. I can't procrastinate indefinitely.

Or I could take a vacation! Like those that take the creatures of certain societies of the cosmos. I take twenty-four hours to mind my own business in total relaxation!

Ci-cin.

…

Hmm, that's kind of what I always do.

Sigh.

Ah! Wait, there's one thing I can do given the circumstances!

Ci-cin!

Standing sprint. I run to get the umbrella.

[Dungeon path]

♦

I take my first steps beyond the area [A-9] and approach the rock face. The green ivies are unchanged from the last time. I run my hand over their spongy, luminescent surface and peel one off.

I taste it. I spit because of the bitterness that turns into spiciness.

I turn to the gallery. Here we are. I breathe in.

Just one last check.

[Will-o'-the-wisp]

[Will-o'-the-wisp]

The flames do not appear.

In this place, I cannot use magic. Fine.

I enter the gallery.