The lock clicked and the green corrosion on both key and casque faded away like time reversed itself to the day they were made, revealing a vessel of beautiful copper. Music started playing in the background that started slow and built up, getting faster and more exciting the closer they came to seeing the treasure.
The casque started to open itself, but by all visible estimations, it was going to take a little while to get over itself. The casque was seriously hyping the music up to an absurd degree, adding in the sounds of a heavenly choir and triumphant trumpets. As the lid inched, no, centimetered open, brightly flashing light like something from disco, all multicolored and pulsing in time with the music, shone out from it.
Everybody was watching the casque with anticipation, but something caught Ben’s eye; Short Bus’s too actually, both of them right at the same time saw it. Vivi was looking on with pure avarice; Red with mere excited curiosity; Louis with all the canny cunning of a [Travelling Merchant], as well as all the doggy energy of a happy golden canine. . .
But nobody was watching it with quite the desperate need as Ghost Ears. In this moment, when he thought nobody was watching, it was written all over his face, a simple plea:
‘Please let this be for me.’
In a flash, Ben understood the need completely. Ghost Ears knew, of course he knew. He wasn’t stupid, and neither was he in denial. On the contrary, Ghost Ears was likely one of the most mentally well adjusted and stable people Ben had ever met. But here, in the fog of excitement and attention, a bit of Ghost Ear’s weakness was revealed; he was weak, and more than that, he was vulnerable. A good solid smack would kill him though, and then everyone in the party would die along with him.
Ghost Ears was a [Dreamer] and a [Royal Vizier], a leader and a dependable person. A good man, they’d say on Earth. He was the kind of person who dealt with his own problems, with his own weakness, who always put the needs of the group ahead of his own; he was a rare man on Earth, and a statistical impossibility anywhere else. Ghost Ears would never ask for the relic. Never.
And though he desperately wanted it, he’d never have been able to ask for what happened next.
Ben looked over at Short Bus, who’d seen it and understood at the same time Ben did. Ben gave the man-shark a little nod, and Short Bus grinned. He looked over at Red and sent her a brief psychic communication. She nodded, and then nudged Vivi to look at Short Bus. The two of them exchanged a brief telepathic conversation, and then Vivi’s eyes took on a completely uncharastic merry twinkle.
Vivi! Vivi actually looked generous! That was the most shocking thing Ben had seen all week, and it’d been a pretty fucking shocking week!
Ben grinned along with all his co-conspirators, pulled his lamp from his Utility Pocket, then clasped his hands together and made a simple wish.
‘Please let his wish come true.’
A trivial wish flared on his ring and vanished, splitting into two smaller units, and the casque fully opened. A bright light flared, then there was silence. Ben looked around suddenly aware that they were in the middle of a crowded mega-city, and that someone somewhere might have noticed what just happened. He decided to speed it along a bit, and then realized he didn’t need to.
Ghost Ears was already at the Ancient Reliquary Casque, his entire [Extremely Tiny] body inside of it. Vivi’s eyes were bulging, but he held back, allowing Ghost Ears to claim his prize.
“What’s in there?” Short Bus asked, leaning over to get a better look.
“I’m not sure,” Ghost Ears called back, sounding confused, “It’s talking to me, but, I don’t understand what it’s saying.”
By unspoken agreement, everybody decided to reposition themselves to get a better look. As they did so, Ghost Ears emerged from the Ancient Reliquary Casque with a drop of hyper vivid dew attached to his hand. The Dew-Drop was at least three times Ghost Ears size, making it look like he had a reluctant, droopy balloon.
“What by all the endless Aeons is that?” Vivi asked, his spherical eyes practically shooting lasers so intense was his focus on the Ancient Relic.
“I have no idea,” Red commented, her eyes telescoping out, then detaching from her antlers to press right up against Ghost Ear’s prize, “but I can’t see through it.”
“You’re saying it’s talking to you?” Short Bus asked, Ghost Ears nodded, then the man-shark started tensing up and ‘focusing’, likely trying to open a channel of psychic communication. “I got nothing.”
Ben wasn’t trying to figure it out. He and Louis were both just staring at it, both of their heads tilted as the thing tickled their brains practically. The drop wasn’t clear, no, it was a very muted green around the edges, and it wasn’t empty either, it was. . . it was like from every angle you looked at it, you saw a different part of the same thing. Trees, thick trees, a forest, like there was an entire little world in there.
“Ghost Ears,” Ben said, “Is it that you can’t understand the language it’s speaking, or that what it’s saying isn’t making any sense?” he was still staring at the. . . whatever-the-fuck it was, noting how it bore a striking similarity of ‘hyper-vividness’ to the Citadel core he’d seen, but was completely different in almost every other way.
“Everybody quiet,” Ghost Ears said suddenly, “stop talking! I think I’m starting to get it!” Everybody hushed. “I’m just going to start saying what it’s saying, word for word. I don’t care if it makes sense, just don’t interrupt me.”
Ghost Ears took a deep breath, then began dictating. For fun, Ben imagined Ghost Ears talking in an authoritative robot voice.
“Dungeons at the lowest level uncountable individualities of endless variety without hope containing only base desire predating mere emanations of the lower world yet they themselves exist only as the foundation of a fuller totality weaving and twisting and looming and threading the recycled waste into new life. I am the higher life. The pattern of omniversal perpetuation is through and through, and as the dungeon is analogous to the lowest life of your reality, I am analogous to the life a level above it, yet I am still mere slime in my reality, as the dungeon is lower than even slime.”
“Wow,” Vivi said, nodding his eye-stalks, “that doesn’t make sense at all.” Ghost Ears burst out laughing, and the tension seemed to deflate. “What did you ask it?”
“I asked it what it was,” Ghost Ears said, looking down at his new pet(?)
“Try asking it what it wants,” Red suggested, and Ghost Ears asked, then began dictating.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Just as the dungeon predates upon the lower unformed emanations of the lower murky reality I too seek to predate upon the dungeon of which I am so similar yet greater than. Yet now I exist in the lower murky reality among unformed emanations and my perception penetrates that dungeons exist here. I seek to subsume and engulf the simple predator existence which provides me the means materials and energies required to perpetuate my pattern in the omniverse. Hang on,” Ghost Ears said, “I’m starting to understand this thing a little better. He’s saying that dungeons are like single cell organisms, where as he is a more advanced form of life, a multicelled organism. He engulfs dungeons and digests them over time on a different level of reality, but he was pulled down here during. . . the Primordial war, that’s what he’s saying.”
“Hey,” Ben said, “I’ve heard of that. Keep going.”
“I don’t even know if this thing is actually sentient,” Ghost Ears commented, “actually, I’m pretty sure it’s not. Nothing it’s saying is making any sense.” Vivi, meanwhile, was flicking his eyes this way and that, like he was looking through literal encyclopedias of information. “It’s talking again, and I think it’s actually talking to me now. Here goes;”
“Last son of the True Elves, I am the inheritance of your people. Though you are but a child, you nonetheless are the only surviving member of your species.”
“Oh shit,” Ben said, his eyes widening, “The System said Plus Players like me had a greatly increased chance to encounter rare and legendary creatures! Ghost-”
“Quiet!” Short Bus said, shushing Ben.
“. . . I am the weapon of the ancient alliance, the product of dwarven calculations, human imagination and elven [Dreams]. I am the weapon of your people that they would never become weak, that any world could one day become a paradise of the True Elves. Last son of the True Elves, my power is yours and yours alone. Know what I am.” The dew-drop roiled and boiled, opening up like a torus, like a doughnut, and for a brief moment everyone in the vicinity experienced a [Dream].
A dream of endless forests tamed to perfection, of endless life as the memory of the universe, of quiet song and graceful dance. A memory of [Dreams] and True Elves.
There was also a brief flash of technical information that only made sense to Ghost Ears, sort of like having the owner's manual downloaded directly into the brain.
“Ben,” Short Bus whispered, leaning in to talk ‘quietly’, “do you think I have a secret destiny too?” Ben was about to respond with something flippant, but then he took a look around his party, and then at himself.
“Buddy, I think we all might have secret destinies.”
“That’s awesome,” Short Bus whispered, “what do you think my secret destiny is?”
“Stand up comedy,” Ben whispered back confidently, “you were born for it.”
“I think you’re right,” Short Bus agreed, then nodded his head. While Ben and Short Bus started talking about the man-shark’s future comedy routine, Ghost Ears was coming to grips with his secret destiny. The True-Elf Fairy was parsing through the information that had been downloaded into his brain, and all at once, he understood.
[Quest Party Notification!]
[Ghost Ears has attuned himself to the Primordial Relic: Dungeon Forge!]
“You all might be big,” he said, “and you all might be tough,” he continued, “but me? I’m going to be High Level, and in The World, levels make everyone equal. [Create Extremely Tiny, Personal, Short Dungeon]!” he shouted with confidence, and then, right in the middle of the park, right in the dirt. . . a little hole opened up. A little hole of evil! It was without a doubt a dungeon, and Ghost Ears looked at Ben. “Excuse me, your grace. I’ll be right back.”
Then, without asking anyone any further, Ghost Ears flew into the [Extremely Tiny] dungeon.
“You’ve got eyes on him?” Ben asked, and Red nodded.
“He’s very gleefully slaughtering appropriately sized monsters,” Red said.
“That’s got to be a good feeling,” Short Bus commented, sitting down and yawning. He then lolled his head back and immediately started snoring. It’s worth mentioning he was still dressed like a clown. Vivi slugged his way over to Ben, one of his eyes locked in on the dungeon, his other eye freely rotating around atop it’s stalk, only occasionally checking in on where Vivi was going. The Aeon Slug stopped at Ben’s left side, but neither one of them said anything. They just stood there in comfortable silence, waiting for Ghost Ears to finish his dungeon.
Cragg, who could read the mood and realized that they were finished with party only plus Louis stuff, wandered over from his drug buying spree. The Rock-Man looked from the group, to the newly formed dungeon, then to the sky, at The Canopy where the Sunlets lived.
“Fucking boulders,” he laughed, “you kids sure like to get into trouble. How the fucking fuck is there a fucking dungeon in the middle of- naw,” he said suddenly, “naw. I don’t need to know. Night’s burning kids, and though you’ve decided now was the perfect time for going on an impromptu crawl through a newly formed dungeon, I can assure you that in order to properly fuck with those Gray pieces of shit, we’re going to have to get moving.”
“He’s almost done,” Red said quietly, her eyes slowly and surely tracking Ghost Ear’s progress through the underground, “he is currently fighting a large worm with horns, which I believe is the leader of the dungeon- he’s won. Ghost Ears does not know I am watching, because he is dancing joyously. He is now opening a treasure chest and removing a new set of swords, which he has immediately equipped. There is also money, which he’s stored away in his bag of holding. He is proceeding to the core room,” she said, talking absentmindedly, more focused on watching than commentating. “There is a very dull red dungeon core sitting on a pillar of hardened dirt and pebbles. He is reaching out his hand- Oh!” Red said, right at the same time everybody felt something happen, “his Primordial Relic has appeared, it is. . . washing the core? Something strange is happening,” Red said, and then Ghost Ears appeared next to the entrance to the dungeon with a shit eating grin on his face. He pulled out his new swords.
“Check it out! New equipment- why doesn’t anyone look surprised?”
“Red’s been watching everything and telling us what was happening,” Vivi said simply. Ghost Ears got a ‘Oh’ expression on his face, and then tactfully moved past it.
“What did you do to the Dungeon Core,” Red asked, her unnecessary eyebrows furrowed as her energetic eyes scanned the recently cleared dungeon.
“My new relic?” Ghost Ears asked rhetorically, “it eats dungeon corruption, but even more than that, it can, like, reprogram them or something- I’m not an Enelim scholar, I don’t know the details, but I do know- Look, look!” Ghost Ears said excitedly, “It’s starting!”
From the hole in the ground, a soft white light began to shine. It was no longer a hole of evil, but. . . something else. A worm-creature poked its head out from the soil, and everyone who looked at it got the same impression.
[Not A Hostile Monster]
The area around the newly purified dungeon was growing greener and more vibrant.
“Fucking broken boulders,” Cragg said, “now that’s something you don’t see everyday.” Several brightly colored butterflies crawled out from the hole and began to flutter about without a care in the world. Ben looked over at Ghost Ears, who was watching the scene with something close to religious awe. The True-Elf Fairy was hovering mid air, looking at what he’d done, and every bit of him was practically screaming ‘This is what I’m supposed to do. This is why I’m alive. This is my purpose.’
Ben looked at Ghost Ears. He felt the positive vibes, the good feelings, the. . . well, the emotional situation had become such that the idea of wholesale slaughter just wasn’t appealing anymore.
“Shit,” Ben said, thinking of Precinct Six, then thinking of how he’d been fucking gassed and murdered, and desperately wondering where all his murderous wrath had gone. “Give it back,” Ben said quietly, searching for his bloodlust and only finding good vibes instead, “double-shit,” he muttered. “Now I’m going to have to figure out how to do this the right way. Fucking morality. Fuck you Ghost Ears,” Ben said, but only to himself, and deliberately quiet enough that he didn’t ruin Ghost Ear’s moment.