-Kepler-

Finally, Kepler had the threat in his grasp.

The idiot had entered the mind-space—of his own will—as part of some kind of skill. A skill Kepler gladly dismantled.

[HOW DARE YOU.]

He ripped into the man’s mind. Mana and system-reinforcements whirled around Kepler in tattered strips.

[TOUCH MY CLARE.]

The skill he’d dismantled had been possessive. He’d tried to put chains on them—on Clare.

Rage burned inside him, rage and satisfaction. The man was putty under his claws. He’d reached Celio’s soul, now. Bit deep into his memories—

Stop!!

Clare was grasping at his arms, unable to hold him back.

Stop! You’re going to kill him!

[So?] Kepler snarled but did as she asked.

She hugged his torso, tried to leverage her weight into pulling him away.

[Clare, he’s a threat.]

What, because of an idiotic comment and a bad attitude? You could have ended his soul!

He didn’t look at his—what was Clare to him, anyway? He didn’t look at her. His expression would frighten her.

The dungeon quivered with his rage and victory. His enemy was helpless on the ground, barely cognizant.

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[He was trying to enslave us.]

What? She glanced down at the delver. He looked up at her with soft brown eyes. Memories spilled out from gaping wounds on his chest and neck.

A childhood surrounded by gentle priests and troublemaking peers. Spring in the New Capital, pale buds struggling to bloom on a cherry tree. Grimy fights in a back-alley. The smell of paint.

Kepler flexed his claws uneasily.

Just kick him out.

[No.]

Clare gave him a stern look, but it wasn’t all that authoritative. Her blue eyes were too melancholy for that. Big fragile pools of empathy.

Kepler… we can protect ourselves without becoming cruel.

[It’s not cruel. It’s necessary.]

She turned her gaze to the intruder thoughtfully. Watched his mind settling, trying to pull itself together. He watched her back.

I don’t think he meant to.

[That doesn’t mean he won’t try again—or just destroy us. We don’t have enough physical defense.]

Clare turned back to Kepler. Her eyes consumed him, full of memories she’d never let him see, memories he’d only glimpsed while they were leveling.

And how will his friend react?

[What?]

If you destroy his mind? How will she react?

Kepler froze. Shame clawed at his gut, as he realized the obvious answer. Clare pushed him, gently, a few steps back from the delver. Crouched beside his prone form.

The man stared at her with an intensity that made Kepler bristle.

I don’t know how to put you back together. She told Celio. I wish you hadn’t been injured like this, that you’d been polite. Clare rubbed a soft hand against the delver’s head. Kepler swayed, his world spinning at the action. But there’s nothing I can do but send you back. We are people. I don’t know about other dungeons, but Kepler and I…

She removed her hand. Kepler crossed the distance to her, cold clutching at his heart. Fingers numb.

We’re people. Clare said, and scooped Celio into her arms.

Into her arms.

Kepler’s form blurred. Mist. He was mist, like the blue mist in their territory. An unanchored puff of cloud.

She deposited Celio outside their core, pressing him carefully back into his body through what remained of the skill.

Why hadn’t he shredded the skill properly? There would have been no putting him back, then. Kepler could have destroyed him… could smashed Celio into a powder, a mist--- instead of feeling like mist himself.

Clare pulled back from the edge of their mind-space. Hugged herself. She wasn’t looking at him.

She wasn’t looking at him.

Wasn’t looking at him.

Kepler dropped his mind-space form. Dove into their joint subconscious.

Every iota of his being hurt.