What awaited me on the other side of that door would end up haunting me a little. Not as much as I think it would have otherwise, considering the trials of the day up to this point. There was a limit to the amount of batshit insane things a person could handle in a single day, and this was it for me it seemed. I just rubbed my eyes, unable to really believe what was standing in front of me. I'm sure the horror of it would hit me in a moment, or maybe sometime later, when a day was going perfectly fine, this would pop up in my mind just to ruin it. Either way really.
I was standing there. Or rather, I was standing here, right on the other side of the door, AND I was standing there, about 10 feet away and staring back at myself. At least my corpse was. I could still see the blood staining my... its chest from where I had coughed up blood after the bugbear squeezed the life out of me. “Oh fuck this shit. Really?” Ophelia had said that a personal trial would be awaiting me. For some reason, I had thus far assumed that meeting the goddess Fate constituted the personal trial. Obviously, that was not the case.
The dungeon seemed to be intent on making me face my own mortality, or maybe lack there-of, directly. In the most visceral way possible. The corpse just stood there, waiting. It was naked since I had taken the clothes off of it when I arrived back in this world, though it had found weapons at some point. I think it had taken the shield and spear that we had left with Alex's body. Oh no, was Alex here too somewhere? Perhaps that was Ophelia's personal trial? Dealing with the death of a comrade? No way to know, sadly.
Since my corpse, though walking and watching me, didn't seem eager to start the confrontation that I was almost certain would begin the moment I made a move away from the door, I took the time to look around myself. This room was vastly different from anything else I had seen here so far, and it took me a moment to recognize where I had seen it before. The floor was made of some kind of smooth tile without any grout, maybe linoleum? The walls were a sterile eggshell white at some point, but decades of use had given them a slightly yellowish tinge. Perhaps at one point the building had been home to smokers, and nobody had bothered to repaint over the old nicotine. The ceiling was that generic suspended style you find in highschools and office buildings, the kind that they put in because its super cheap and gives access to the crawlspace from any point. Easy to maintain but not very nice. There were a few windows and doors along the walls, showing empty rooms of various sizes.
It was an office. Rather, it was my office building from earth, where I had worked before receiving the Paradigmn Shift Device. Except there was no furniture, and no windows to the outside world. I wasn't sure how the dungeon had spawned this room of all things. Perhaps it had access to the memories in my corpse? Or it could read my mind while I was still alive? Freaky either way. It had even nailed down the 'never quite bright enough' fluorescent lighting that gave the room its depressing ambiance. “This is just freaky... Why bother?
I didn't really expect an answer, and though it would have been quite 'tropey' for the dungeon to suddenly start talking to me, nothing happened. Instead, I just conjured my spear, Providence, and took a single step forward. The moment I did, the room transformed. All the old cubicles sprung up from the floor. The confrence rooms and offices suddenly had long tables and desks and chairs. Suddenly, my old body was gone from my sight, ducking down below the chin height walls of the cubicles. “Oh come on.....” This was just downright disconcerting. I was going to have to hunt myself in my old place of business. The dungeon wanted me to kill my old self.
I could feel my already frayed nerves start to spasm and twitch. It was too much, seeing this remnant of my old life, now empty and meaningless. Years spent climbing the corporate ladder to try and make a place for myself in a world that regularly chewed up and spit out anyone who bothered. And I was back here, again. I could see my old cube from where I was standing, though the contents were hidden from me by the walls. I took a deep, long breath, trying to center myself. I couldn't lose it here. I couldn't break down, couldn't let the lingering doubts cloud my mind when there was something in here that almost definitely wanted me dead. I counted to ten. Twice. But I managed to ease my mind enough that I could focus on the danger present.
Crouching low, just like my corpse had, I started to make my way through the office hell. My spear, and really it was more of a spear despite the name, stayed at my side, ready to dart out in a quick thrust. I kept the feeling of my only other spell at the forefront of my mind, ready to block an attack the moment I noticed it as well. I was as ready as I could be, making my way forward towards my old cube.
It was slow going. My ears strained, listening for any hint of a sound that might tell me where my old body was. My legs started to ache from the unfamiliar position I was holding. I suppose getting a few extra points in the body attribute wasn't enough to make holding an unfamiliar position easy. But I kept at it, forcing myself to stay at full attention. I made it to my old cube without sensing hide nor hair of the other me, and stood up. Slowly. I examined my desk, eyes tearing up as I found the old photo I had kept there, same as it had been in my original world. It was a framed 5x9 of me, my mom before she had died, and my dad. My brother was off at college when this was taken, and I was only 8 or so. It was the last decent photo I had of all of us as a family. My mom died a few months later, in a car wreck. Dad did well raising me after that, though I know it was hard. He died in my early twenties, of lung cancer. Always told me not to smoke while he had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He never could quit the habit, not once mom passed.
I had a knot in my throat, big and impossible to swallow. Tears were welling in my eyes, and I nearly dropped the spear. I missed them, not a day went by that I didn't. I hadn't expected to be able to see them again, not after coming here. “Please....” I begged, ever so softly as I placed the photo frame in between my chest and the leather armor I wore. It wasn't comfortable, but I didn't have anywhere else to put it and I needed my hands free. When I turned around, putting my back to the cubicle, I screamed.
My corpse was right behind me, only inches away. It had moved in silently, its own spear held at the ready. Its dead eyes stared into mine, cloudy tears falling down it's face. A few drops of mostly congealed blood fell down its smiling lips. It was like staring at one of those clowns where the clown is smiling but you can tell its soul is screaming. Except it was my own face. The lance lunged forward, and in a panic I dived to the side. Everything was forgotten as I scrambled away on all fours, trying to ignore a burning pain just above my left hip. “No!” I screamed again, managing to get back on my feet. Somehow, Providence was still in my hands, and I turned to face myself, spear down.
My corpse was chasing me, spear at the ready, shield seemingly forgotten despite being strapped to its arm. It lunged forward, trying to stab me, and I moved to the side again, dodging fully this time before stabbing out my own spear. I caught it straight in the gut, watching as the spear pushed out through it's back. I pulled back on the spear, hard, wrenching it free. The smell was vomit inducing, a mix of rotting flesh, rotting food, and copper. No blood came out, but some dark nasty fluids did instead in a slow gush. As the spear came free, I noticed a few bright silvery threads begining to wrap around the creature's arms and legs.
> Providence inflicts [Threads of Fate]
> [Threads of Fate] - [Debuff] [Stacking] - Reduces the agility of those afflicted
I watched, expecting the corpse to fall to the ground dead as the goblins had when inflicted with similar wounds. Instead, it ignored the wound completely, pulling itself back up and taking a more proper stance. Or at least proper as I considered it. The shield was in position to cover most of its body, and it had its spear at the ready. “Oh right. Its a corpse. Fuck. Undead rules, so.... decapitation, destroy the brain, break the bones, or fire.” Well. I didn't have anything capable of decapitation, I certainly wasn't going to spend the time battering it until it couldn't move, and I didn't have a way to set it on fire. So I needed a clean headshot. Fuck me, getting through that skull was going to be a bitch.
On the upside, the debuff that my spear could inflict was seemingly taking effect. The threads wrapping around the corpses arms and legs restricted it's motion somewhat. In addition, after landing a hit and taking a hit, I was calmer, more focused. While I was in pain, it wasn't overly severe. Placing my hand over the wound and pulling it away only showed a small amount of blood. I didn't dare look to check, but I had to guess that the wound was shallow.
But that was all the time I got to assess. The corpse lunged again, its spear darting out. I was ready this time though, and cast a barrier the moment I saw the spear coming. With my kinetic vision ability, I could tell exactly how the attack was going to come, and placed the almost invisible hexagonal barrier just right, keeping the size small, only the size of a dinner plate or so. The spear knocked into the barrier, which shattered like glass, and bounced back, flying up into the air. The corpse kept its hold on the spear though, and I lunged forward with a counter attack, missing it's head and nicking it on the shoulder with the spear. More threads joined those already in place, making the corpse slightly slower.
“Okay... I can do this. Block and counter until its so slow that I can't miss. Easy enough.” I took the brief moment while we both reset to use the appraisal feature of the PSD.
> Niles Thatcher - [Humanoid Zombie] [Undead] - An undead corpse brought back to life by a dungeon's magic.
> Abilities: Unknown Known Weaknesses: Unknown
>
> This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Nothing about fire or headshots? Was I wrong, or was the PSD just really bad at apprasing things? Perhaps it could absorb information somehow, or maybe there was a feature of the appraisal tool I was missing? This was useless, except to confirm it really was MY corpose. It even had my name. Creepy. Terrifying even.
The rest of the fight went much the same. It was slow going. I was careful to manage my mana, never using more than one shield at a time, and keeping the size as small as I could while still being sure to block the attacks. Each time its spear was knocked away, I countered, stabbing out with the spear and landing small blows. Even if I went for vitals, I doubt it would do anything at all to an undead, so instead I worked on lacing more and more of the stacking debuff. Eventually, the zombie was so slow it could barely move. It tried to stab out again, but the attack was held back by a mass of threads that laced its entire body in a gently glowing silver.
It was harder than I thought it would be, landing the killing blow. No matter how much I knew logically that this wasn't me anymore. It was just meat reanimated by the dungeon, I couldn't bring myself to finish it. I blocked its last attack, batting the spear away with my own, and gathered my resolve. I launched forward, jabbing out with Providence, and pushed the head of the spear through it's eye until I hit something hard and unyielding inside. When I pulled the spear back, the zombie fell to the ground. The threads vanished, and it lay there, lifeless. “I'm really glad this place doesn't have kill notifications....” I shuddered, eternally grateful I'd never have to read something that said 'Congratulations, You've Killed Niles Thatcher' or anything like that. I think it would have sent me over the edge.
As I stared at my corpse, the world around me started to change. The cubicles sank into the floor, and the almost modern office space changed back into a more classical dungeonesque feel. Stone floor, stone walls, scones with torches. The works. The room was the same size, but gone was the facade. In a sudden panic, I dug into my shirt, no longer feeling the uncomfortable square of the photo frame. It was gone. Totally gone. This victory was hollow, and even the prize I had hoped to claim had faded away. I wiped a tear from my face and headed to the only door left in the room.
Time to move on to the next stage.