Zeni found herself sitting on the earthen floor of Omar's simple shack, her legs crossed beneath her as she tried to look casual, but the tension in the room was palpable. Omar himself sat on a bed-like structure in one corner, his body language as casual as his unkempt attire, but his gaze was sharp and watchful. Yasmine chose to remain standing by the door, her instincts on high alert, her eyes never leaving Omar for a moment.

As Zeni stretched her legs, trying to alleviate the pins and needles that threatened to overtake them, she couldn't help but notice the sheer level of chaos that surrounded her. It was as if a whirlwind had swept through the room, depositing random piles of belongings, discarded garments, and long-forgotten projects in its wake. Next to her, she could see what appeared to be a precariously balanced stack of papyrus scrolls, each one more crumpled and stained than the last.

For a moment, Zeni was almost tempted to reach out and try to tidy up the mess, but she caught herself just in time. She was here for a reason, and it wasn't to play housekeeper to a desert hermit.

Zeni cleared her throat, trying her best to ignore the jumble of clutter surrounding her.

"You know," she began, her voice casual, almost artificially so, "the weather outside... it's just been so... warm, hasn't it?"

"Enough with the pleasantries," Omar snapped. "What did you mean earlier when you said you were from a different world?"

“Just that,” Zeni said with a shrug. “I ain’t from around here. Somewhere else.”

“Which world are you from?” Omar demanded.

"How many worlds are there to be from?" Zeni asked, cracking a grin.

“Many,” Omar said seriously.

“Oh,” Zeni said, suddenly feeling foolish again. “Well…”

Zeni cleared her throat, feeling awkward as she attempted to explain her origins.

"The place I’m from is called Earth. It's, uh, round, like a ball. And it's blue and green, mostly, with some brown bits.”

“Like moldy bread,” Yasmine offered unhelpfully.

“Um, I mean, it's not entirely like that…” Zeni clarified, “more like…I dunno, a beautiful painting, or a marble, or something. There's water…like here–you know, oceans and seas and what not. Then there's land with, uh, mountains and forests and deserts, not unlike this one…also. And we have these things called cities, big clusters of buildings where people live—”

“We’ve got cities here, too,” Omar said.

“Oh, right—I mean, you do? I haven’t seen any, so that’s actually new to me. Figured it was mostly just villages and little towns.”

“So…you’re from a world exactly like this one?” Omar asked.

“Uh, sorta,” Zeni said. “Look, I’m just explaining it badly, but to make a long story short, it’s similar…but different. For one, the level of technology here is way behind—”

“What’s that?” Yasmine asked.

“Technology? That’s like, what you call science and…uh, well, inventions and such. It’s complicated. But my world is more advanced.”

“In what way?” Omar asked.

“In that we have special machines that can do amazing things like carry us around and clean our clothes and run things without us having to do anything.”

“We’ve got all that here,” Yasmine interrupted.

“So you have Ka there as well,” Omar said. “Interesting.”

“Well, no, we don’t have Ka—at least, I don’t think so. These machines work with electricity. Well, some do. Some work with…steam? And petroleum, and…other stuff—honestly, I’m not a hundred-percent certain how a lot of it works.”

“Wait, there’s no Ka in your world? You never mentioned that,” Yasmine said. “Doesn’t sound very advanced to me.”

“Whose side are you on?” Zeni asked, turning to her friend.

“We’re taking sides now?” Omar said. “It sounds like I should take the side of Ka.”

“Listen, we are getting way off topic,” Zeni admonished, taking a deep breath. “So, yes, this world is similar to mine, but rest assured it is also super-duper different. And to reiterate, I don’t know how I wound up here, and I’m not sure if I am planning to go back. But what I do know is that one major difference is: we don’t have dungeons in my world—at least, not like the ones here. Ours are more like jails, and no one uses them anymore. Not since King Arthur times. And really, that’s the whole reason I’m here bothering you, Mr. Omar—because ever since I arrived, I’ve been feeling a strong pull to enter dungeons—which I have learned is something dungeons do to people. Which would be fine, I suppose, except for the fact that every single night when I go to bed I hear someone telling me to destroy a dungeon—multiple someones, actually—and it’s really creepy, and I’d like to figure out how to make it stop. So…that's why I’m here. I don’t know why or how, but something wants me to murder a dungeon and I feel like unless I sort that out or get the voices to stop, they are just going to get worse and add more voices into their chorus until I’m listening to a five-hundred person choir every night when I try to get some shut-eye. So I’m here hoping you can help me understand what’s going on.”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

She felt that her face was red and she sucked in a huge lungful of air after her long monologue and glanced at Omar. The disheveled hermit was staring off into space, and Zeni was suddenly worried that she’d broken him.

“I’m…uh, sorry,” she said. “That was a lot, and I’m sure—”

“I’m from a different world as well,” Omar said suddenly, almost blurting the information out.

“Huh?” Zeni wondered. “You are? Which one?”

“It sounds a bit like yours, but I’m not sure. The things you’re describing all sound familiar to me, but I can’t be positive—they could jog my memory simply because it sounds so similar to the one we’re in now.”

Zeni was taken aback. This interaction with Omar so far had not gone the way she thought it would. Omar, so far, hadn’t seemed like some troubled person who was incapable of talking about himself as she’d been led to believe, in fact, something about this interaction seemed strange and if she was being honest…false. Almost as if—

—

In the half-light, thrown by the capering flames of the fire, Zeni observed Omar and Yasmine moving around it, their limbs twisting and undulating in a grotesque ballet that seemed choreographed to some sinister, unheard melody. The pounding of the drums, a distant and muffled accompaniment, reverberated through her body like the relentless pulse of some monstrous heartbeat. The laughter that erupted from her, a chilling and alien sound, seemed to come from a place deep within her that she never knew existed.

Her hands, slick and sticky with the warm, viscous fluid she now recognized as blood, trembled as she struggled to contain the mania that threatened to consume her. The darkness of the night seemed to close in, suffocating her as she watched Omar and Yasmine, their faces distorted by shadows, dancing in a macabre waltz. The terror coiled around her heart like a serpent, tightening its grip with each ghastly peal of laughter that escaped her lips.

—

As Zeni plummeted through the clouds, she felt an inexplicable sense of serenity enveloping her being. The world around her had dissolved into a whirling vortex of white and gray, and the vast expanse of ocean stretched below her like a canvas waiting to be painted. It seemed as though she was suspended in a liminal pocket, where time and space intertwined and became indistinguishable from one another.

The wind roared past her ears, yet she remained unfazed, her heart calm and steady. Somehow, she knew that the waters below beckoned her, that their depths held the answers she sought. With each passing moment, the sea drew closer, its colorless surface shimmering like a mirage. And as she continued her descent, Zeni surrendered to the unknown, pining for the embrace of the ocean's depths without fear or hesitation.

—

The desolation stretched out before her, barren and unyielding, a sea of sand that swallowed the horizon. Zeni stood alone, the vast emptiness of the desert pressing in upon her, a silence so profound that even the wind seemed to have abandoned her. The sun was a cold witness, indifferent to her plight. Her heart was a hollow drum, a futile rhythm in the face of such isolation.

She turned, scanning the horizon with desperate eyes, searching for some semblance of life, some respite from the crushing loneliness that threatened to suffocate her. But there was nothing, only the relentless march of dunes and the pale, unforgiving sky.

As she took a tentative step forward, the sand shifted beneath her feet, and suddenly, an object appeared before her. It was an unwelcome construction, standing sentinel-like amidst the desolation. A vertical pole rose from the ground, from which extended four crossbars, each fitted with a plumb line that dangled, swaying ever so slightly, a mockery of her disorientation.

The object, alien and inscrutable, defied understanding, its purpose hidden beneath the stark geometry of its form. It stood there, a lone monument to some forgotten endeavor in the face of the sun and desert's cruel indifference. Yet, even this simple object filled her with such a sense of fear that she didn’t know what else to do. She screamed.

—

“Zeni!”

She opened her eyes. Her ears hurt and her voice was raw. She looked up to see a froggy face staring back at her, joined by dozens of smaller toady creatures, all looking down at her with concern.

It was Heket and her tea party of wayward ghostly amphibians.

She blinked, and found that she was lying on her back. It appeared she’d fallen at some point, but she’d been so drawn into her reverie, her own memories that… wait. Those memories. That wasn’t how she had thought things went down with Omar and—

The recollections were like waking from a dream; fleeting and rapidly receding from her ability to recall their details.

She suddenly stood, and Heket and the frogs backed off, giving her the space she needed.

“Are you alright?” Heket asked, casting a glance to her amphibian companions, who all shared the same look.

Zeni found the chair she’d been sitting in, turned over, the lilypad cushion a few feet away as if her fall had been some violent rebuke. She uprighted it and scooted it back to the table.

“I…think so,” Zeni said, shaking her head. “I was just caught in a memory, but then it…I think it changed.”

She gave a half-hearted laugh.

“Weird, huh?”

She couldn’t stop herself from trembling.

Heket shared another look with the ghostly frogs and then moved to Zeni, placing a pacifying hand on her shoulder and sighing.

“Yes, well, you seemed to be in a sort of fit,” she said quietly; calmly. “You say your memory changed?”

Zeni frowned, biting her lip.

“I think so,” she said. “But even now I can’t be sure. The memories are… disappearing? Something like that.”

Heket gave her a look that was hard to discern, but it seemed worried.

“Perhaps it is best if you do not reflect on those memories at the moment, nor the conversation we had before your…trance. I fear we do not have much time left at this very juncture, so I will say this plainly and simply: I’ve seen something like this before. Your memories are being tampered with, dear girl, and though that might seem frightening, it likely means you are on to something. Someone does not want you to recall your…chat that you had with a certain someone in a certain place at a certain time before another certain time.”

“Certain t—”

“Time, dear,” Heket interrupted. “I apologize, but there isn’t much of it. All I can say is that you must continue on the path you have set for yourself. Also, this bears emphasis: you may not, for the moment, be able to trust any memory you have of your encounter with…that person. Before you arrived in this dungeon. Someone, or something is likely fiddling with your recollection, and if you find yourself trying to rely on information you remember from that time…do not. Trust only your instincts, and what your gut is telling you to be right.”

Zeni balked.

“Wait…what? So my memory is being messed w—”

“I’m sorry, Zeni,” Heket said. “Our time is being cut short, but I trust that we will be able to discuss this further at a later time. Until then…”

She pointed at one of the frogs. It was a plump little creature with large, round eyes that seemed to perpetually stare in wonder at the world around it. Its mottled green skin was comically contrasted by a single, off-kilter orange spot on its back, and its legs appeared to be slightly too short for its body, giving it an endearingly clumsy gait.

Heket looked back at Zeni with a determined expression.

"I'm going to send you some help."

The frog hopped towards Zeni, its big eyes never leaving hers. She couldn't help but feel a certain warmth towards the odd creature, despite the gravity of the situation.

As the frog drew nearer, the world around Zeni began to spin and turn black. Heket's voice echoed through the encroaching darkness, a distant but reassuring promise: "I'll see you again, soon."

—

Zeni opened her eyes and found herself in a dank, damp cave, a stark contrast to the dungeon chambers she had previously traversed. The walls were rough and uneven, devoid of the intricate hieroglyphs and images she had grown accustomed to. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and moisture, and the only light came from a distant cave opening, through which a sea of glittering - though likely false - starlight and moonlight filtered in.

As she slowly sat up, Zeni realized that her wounds had been expertly stitched, the sutures threaded with astonishing precision. She felt a numbness in her limbs and recognized the effects of the khepera herb, a pain-relieving healing plant. Flabbergasted, she wondered if the big guy had been the one to mend her injuries. It seemed nearly impossible that his large, armored hands could have been so deft and gentle.

Her eyes scanned the shadowy cave and settled on him, now apparently asleep, not far away. Her mind whirred with thoughts and questions, but despite the ordeal she had just survived, she also felt a deep sense of fatigue washing over her. Gazing at her unexpected savior, she affectionately nicknamed him "Nightingale" in her mind, a nod to his role in saving her life.

Looking down at herself, Zeni noticed another badge pinned next to the silver scarab on her shirt. It was a little frog figurine, seemingly crafted from a pale green stone. In the center of its back was a little orange dot. A small smile graced her lips, despite the harrowing experience she had just endured. She felt a sense of comfort and reassurance. The frog was a reminder of Heket's promise. Driven by exhaustion, Zeni allowed herself to drift off into a much-needed sleep, embraced by the cold, mysterious atmosphere of the cavern.