- Kepler –

He was starting to cool off.

For a moment there, he had been blinded by rage; hot currents of it, pulsing, straining at the walls of their core. It still simmered there, sharp and seething, like liquid glass. Gnawing at his lack of physical form like a frustrated sewer rat—he wanted to crush the threat in his own hands, slice it into pieces so small—

But he was better now.

He was in control.

That’s what he had decided, so that’s what was true.

In the Mindspace—a place that was beginning to feel like a prison—he clicked his imaginary claws against the floor. They were almost out of defenders. Only Sneaky remained of the Worm-Snake pack, and Astrid remained as a last defense in their Boss Room. Van Gogh and the Slime Corps were technically an option, but Clare had absconded with them, and they weren’t that strong—

Where was Clare?

A bolt of panic ran through him.

They were tied together, inescapably—shared the same physical container—but he couldn’t feel her conscious mind next to his—

There she was. She’d isolated herself in a corner of their Mindspace, fiddling with the system interface.

Pain.

He was still too emotional.

Her absence hurt. Raw emptiness where she usually stood by his side. He could feel her subconscious, with his, in the walls of the Mind-space. Could see her conscious manifestation just a few arm-lengths away.

But the distance hurt like a rail-spike in his heart.

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[Clare.]

She glanced up at him coolly.

Was she mad at him? She’d never been mad at him—what should he do—what was the right thing to do—

You done?

[What?]

Being mad. Are you finished?

[I…] Worry jittered his smoky form, [I have cooled off, yes.]

That was true. He had decided it was true, and they were his emotions, so it was.

Okay.

She stretched. It was just a mental tic—he was so aware of their lack of physicality, now, his powerlessness to do anything himself—

Cool, so I think we should spawn more servants. We have about a quarter tank left. She glanced at the system window again. Maybe a Spector or two? It’s 20 MP per servant, so about 5 for 100—

[Six servants. We can spawn six servants.]

Clare nodded. She still hadn’t crossed the distance between them, staying leaned against the wall of their Mindspace.

You know, I think we’re not using Eccentric Faeries to their full effect. We could always make one, or several, named after warriors.

[That could work.] Kepler found himself truly calming. Mythic Connection was a powerful edge, especially if combined with the eccentricity of their Fae.

[Beowulf or Tokyo might be good, since they were both notable for their prowess under water.]

Kepler had been exploring human mythos in his off time; mostly to avoid the System’s increasing commentary on his life.

Beowulf’s a bad idea. Remember Astrid’s founding myth?

[Ah. Right.] He inched closer to Clare, trying to use his amorphous form to be subtle. [What if we lean into the warrior angle?]

Clare hummed thoughtfully. Like Sun Wukong or Achilles?

The Monkey King was certainly powerful, as was Achilles. Their personalities, though…

[Maybe we should channel someone milder? Quetzalcoatl seems benevolent.]

‘Seems’ was the sticking point, though. Quetzalcoatl was a big myth.

Clare seemed to be thinking the same. Let’s leave Quetzalcoatl for another day. He deserves a custom design. And are there any warrior myths that are mild?

He winced. [Fair point.]

The delvers were moving again. They’d reached the half-way point loot box and, after a brief argument, taken the Dodo with them.

Kepler grinned. He’d been right to trap the loot box with something useless but arguably adorable. Now the pair were weighed down with a vulnerable burden.

“I still don’t get it. Why are you keeping that thing?” Ira asked Celio, as the two walked through their territory.

Celio shook his head, exasperated. “Never underestimate the power of cute.”

Inching closer to Clare, Kepler had to agree.