In the darkness, I glimpse a glow. The ground beneath my feet becomes viscous. Maintaining balance on the steps is more difficult; they give way under my weight, and the liquid that composes them creeps between my toes.
Let's hope they don't give in. Falling would be unpleasant.
The blue light of my flames does not illuminate far, just a few steps. What I see is natural Dungeon light, independent of magic.
Going down, it spreads; the source of that luminescence turns out to be a barrier of coppery gold.
I finish going down the stairs. The final steps collapse beneath me, splashing me up to my calves, but I manage not to fall.
I stop feeding the magical flame and give up the bone from which it spreads.
Ci-cin.
The bells ring. It's my snake-headed tail trying to grab the bone but failing.
With my foot, I feel the pavement. The last thing I want is to sink into a puddle.
The light from the barriers is weak. The entire floor appears as a homogeneous, viscous, and black mass. As if you were walking in a hole, one of the many abysses that populate the underground.
Sigh. Nothing to do with the soft ash of the desert.
I raise my palm. A black cloud envelops it and the spine of a book rests in it.
The cloud dissipates. I lower the hand in which I hold the library with my statistics.
“Open.”
The tome opens and scrolls to the page I want. The magical ink continues to swirl on the page, creating shapes, until it stabilizes.
The Dungeon map.
It is generic and illustrates the entire structure known to me, from the desert at the top to the Ocean at the bottom. As the exploration continued, the map compiled itself. I had to give names to many areas myself.
No predecessor has reached this far.
With a small surge of pride, I feel my cheeks redden and my tails curl.
My neck warms up. My heart beats faster. I'm in a unique place. The other side of the Golden Doors?
I feel that. I'm sure of it.
By drawing circles with my fingernail on the page, the ink mixes and focuses on the area I am in. Given the vastness of the Dungeon, the operation is not immediate, but in the end, I recognize a stylization of the staircase from which I descended.
How many years did it take? Too many, countless. But I finally arrived in this hidden room.
If I have truly found what I am looking for—have I found the entrance? Will I finally be able to stop the conspiring god from dying? Quiet it permanently?
My wrist trembles. I shake my hand to chase away the agitation.
I flap my ears a couple of times and listen.
Silence.
I can hear the sound of my breathing, of the blood circulating in my body.
There are no insects. There are no waterways. There is nothing but the cavity. The ruined stairs behind me will reconstitute themselves. In front of me, the barriers emit their light undisturbed. A slightly iridescent halo surrounds them. I feel a sudden sense of nausea.
Their feet sink into the shale floor. A sign that it is soft soil, but dense enough to support light weights.
The breath stops.
I close the grimoire which disappears in the usual fog. Now that I've checked, I'm sure this is the other side of the Golden Doors.
Ci-cin.
I finally reached them! It's hard to believe.
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I take a step forward. Wary.
The pitch fizzes as it comes off my foot and envelops itself as soon as I put it down again. I don't sink, but I leave footprints. To stay calm, I try to push myself, shifting my weight onto the front leg.
I sink slightly, but the ground holds the weight. Just like the rectangular posts of the barrier.
Well.
I advance. I don't know what to expect, and the light diffused by the poles is not enough to illuminate the walls and the ceiling.
It doesn't matter. The dungeon is filled with immense, mostly empty rooms.
Having reached a post of the cord that ties the barriers together, I realize it: going over is necessary to climb over.
I look at the sides to see if there are any openings. There is not. I could go right, or left, looking for an entrance, but the barrier reaches my navel—I can climb over, no difficulty.
The beyond of the barrier, however little I can see, is identical to the side on which I find myself. A homogeneous, black surface.
Even if the frenzy is difficult to chase away, I feel the disappointment creeping in. It took me so long to get this far. Yet, there is nothing more than a barrier immersed in a muddy swamp.
The Golden Doors on the opposite side of the dungeon are monumental. Huge gold doors full of incomprehensible bas-reliefs. Immersed in darkness, at the top of the steps leading to the pier overlooking the infinite Ocean.
In short, not to be demanding. I know that reality often does not coincide with expectations. But… this is anti-climactic.
Should these barriers be what keeps the great dead, those who shape reality from eternal sleep, imprisoned? Really?
Except that I am certain of the veracity of all this because the System guarantees it—Ha! But what do I think? I have to hurry and finish this game before it gets out of hand.
I rest the palm of my hand on the golden post, ready to climb over.
Ci-cin.
I jump over there. Splashes of slime smear my legs and the post.
A slight sense of nausea comes back to haunt me.
There is an aroma in the air. Oil. It's not the first time I've heard this. The dungeon is full of hydrocarbons and minerals.
An electric buzz. I recognize it as similar to the ones I produce when I load spells.
I massage my ears to ward off the nausea.
I breathe in.
I exhale.
It can't be anything dangerous. I am immortal, after all. This is my home, my natural habitat.
Finally serene, even if the smell remains pungent, I continue towards the darkness.
Ci-cin.
[Will-o'-the-wisps]
I turn the bone back on and put it in the mouth of the snake-headed tail. The tail leans forward, allowing the blue flame to light my path.
It shouldn't be long. Maybe a few months at most, although I can only hypothesize the sizes based on the already known map.
I have to be on my guard since the dead here can influence reality with their dreams.
I must reach the empty throne.
Unravel the mystery.
DREN!
I'm stopping. A dark sound in the air, a sinister signal. A red screen full of glitches appears in the darkness.
Some symbols fill the inside. I can read them. This is unusual. It's the first time I've been able to read something written outside of my grimoire.
“Here lie the hopes and anxieties of the deceased. Fueled by the star, they flow into the ocean. Settling their grain, gold for the wise lords.”
Reading the writing gives me goosebumps. Eerie. It seems like a poem and I have no difficulty understanding its meaning.
It is a cosmogony: the wise lords are certainly the great dead; the God of Wisdom.
At the end of the registration, there is a choice: “Do you want to continue anyway?”
The [Proceed]/[Leave Hall] option below reminds me of other places in the Dungeon. Nothing new.
I straighten my skirt.
So, should I press [Proceed]? What if I didn't?
I try to take a step beyond the screen, but an invisible force prevents me from completing the action.
[Dungeon path]
[Shadow wall]
…no way!
I can't get past this point.
I feel my cheeks warming. This type of dry choice, so common, makes me nervous. I don't know what the consequences will be.
On the other hand, I cannot advance otherwise. What a stress.
Being the [Empress], having to obey unknown rules…
Oh good!
I press [Proceed].
The screen disappears. The magical flame goes out. There are no gusts, tremors, or suspicious noises. Only the buzzing stops. The shutdown must be caused by a [Dispel] spell or similar.
Considering what to do, my grimoire appears in mid-air.
No, there's something strange. It radiates a pale light instead of the usual fumes.
It opens on a very white page. The characters emerge as burns instead of ink.
Some writing appears.
[Exit request: System 09182738475663777726354]
[Status: Existing]
[Access request: System 09182738475663777726355]
[Status: possible future]
[Permission: Empress]
[Guaranteed Access]
[Matching available values: in progress]
[Name: valid]
[Type: non-existent] [Conversion analysis: in progress]
[Priority: non-existent] [Conversion analysis: in progress]
[Class: non-existent] [Conversion analysis: in progress]
[Jobs: non-existent] [Conversion analysis: in progress]
[Level System: conversion in progress]
[Emergency skill: not allowed]
…
[Processing finished]
[Animal: no]
[Spectrum: Confirmed]
[Conversion finished]
What is happening? What is all this information!? How should I handle them!!?
I did some damage! I did it!
I judge the dead. I haven't the faintest idea what it all means!
Jumping, I try to catch the book with my tail. But it's hot and incinerates my extremities just by touching it.
It hurts, but immortality gives me my limbs back.
There is nothing around. Only the darkness. The barriers in the background are barely visible.
I go back to focusing on the book.
A final text appears. “To continue, select an option. The data conversion produced the following results.”
[Noclip]
↓
[Hall of mirrors]
What does it mean!?
Whaa—AH!