Things go orange and go even more orange, quickly intensifying to a blinding white. I try to blink it away, hoping to clear my vision, before I remember that’s not how my sight works anymore. I’m… in some kind of white void. It’s weird how a white void can feel even emptier than a black one like space. It also feels more inviting, like a blank canvas just waiting for a painter’s brush.
I look around in confusion, before a thought hits me: Did I get isekai’d in my isekai?! Thankfully, it only takes a moment to reaffirm my connection to my scions, my territory, and even a thinner connection to… well, my followers, I guess. Outside of this white void, time seems to be slowed to a crawl… or time is weird inside here.
However wibbly-wobbly the time is acting, the connection to my dwellers and the few outside followers helps remind me what the Raven said about afterlifes. Looking around, I don’t think it’ll be a bad one, as it is, but it’s definitely boring. So… what should I do?
When all you have is a hammer, your problems tend to look like nails, and when you’ve been a dungeon for almost a year now, empty spaces demand to be filled with interesting things. Should I just make a dungeon to adventure in for their afterlife? It’ll be more interesting than this void, but that doesn’t feel right. I want my followers to have a more peaceful afterlife than that.
I look around for a while, the endless possibilities making it difficult for me to even get started. I mentally shake my head and latch onto a simple idea I’ve seen work out countless times: rolling grassy hills. Will I keep the entire void like this? Probably not, but maybe so. Either way, it gives me something to work from. Blue sky, yellow sun, a few drifting clouds, a river there…
Before I know it, I have an area that looks like the starting area in every survival crafting game ever. That realization also gives me a good idea for what to make this afterlife be, and the goal for it. I start sprinkling around nodes for all sorts of resources, from things like stone, clay, or metals, to organics like fibers and wood, and more besides.
The placements are a bit all over the place, but from what the Raven was saying, it sounded like people need to put in a bit of effort to be properly prepared for what lies beyond. I start poking around, looking for animal nodes, when I hear a collective gasp and realize my fallen dwellers are here now.
At the moment, they’re all just gazing around, eyes wide at the peaceful scenery around them. It doesn’t take them long to notice me, and they start falling to their knees (or closest approximation), looks of reverence on their faces.
“Woah, easy there. You don’t need to do that!”
They don’t really listen, so I reach out with… I’m not sure what, actually, and help them to their feet. “Come on, you guys know I’m not looking for that sort of thing.”
The ratkin and spiderkin slowly rise, all still looking a bit overwhelmed by everything, many with tears of joy wetting their cheeks. A ratkin steps forward, and I know his name is Emarlo before he opens his mouth. He dips like he intends to take a knee, before remembering I just said I didn’t want that sort of thing.
“L-Lord Thedeim. It’s…” He struggles to find the words, so I pat him on the shoulder to try to help comfort him. In fact, I pat everyone, they all look like they could use a bit of guidance right now.
“Hello everyone. I… well, let me first apologize for…” I trail off and mentally shake my head, chuckling. “No, I can’t really apologize, can I? You all knew the risks of joining this battle. I won’t downplay your struggles by trying to take credit with an apology. We all did our best, and we all knew some might not make it back home. So instead, let me say thank you. Thank you all for fighting for what you believe in, and for being willing to pay the price for it.”
For a few seconds, the gathered dwellers keep it together, before Cerli, an orb weaver spiderkin near the back of the crowd slips free a sob. Then Nird, a ratkin, fails to stifle his own emotions. After that, the dam breaks, and I worry for a moment I’ve messed things up royally.
But they’re not tears of regret. Every single one of them is crying tears of relief, the kind of breakdown of accepting that yes, things were bad, but things can also be better. I do my best to comfort them all, even as I feel a bit awkward doing it. I never feel like I know what to do when someone is crying, but sometimes, just being a shoulder for them to do it on is all they need.
It might have taken hours, or maybe not even a moment, thanks to how weird time feels in here, but eventually everyone mostly processes everything, or at least enough to be functional again. I smile at them all, glad to see that even dying hasn’t broken them. “It’s a bit overwhelming, hmm?” I ask, earning a few quiet chuckles at the understatement, before I take a step back and bring their attention to their surroundings.
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“This is… well, the afterlife. The one you get with me, at least. Take a good look around, because it’s not going to stay like this for long, I expect. If I’m change, I can’t have my afterlife be something static, can I? And I think it’s going to be on all of you to effect that change.”
I motion for them to follow and they do, rubbernecking around at all the scenery and the nodes around. “The most positive of changes comes from people who plant trees whose shade they’ll never sit under. You won’t stay here forever, the Raven made that pretty clear. So, you’ll make something here. Maybe you’ll make a house, or a road, or a mine, or a pick, a sewing needle, a loom, a cart, a something. You’ll make your change, probably only able to guess at the impact it will actually have. You all saw today how small things can have great consequences. You’ll pour some of yourself into what you make, leaving behind something and gaining even more. When you’re done, you’ll either be ready to go into the beyond, or be eager to head back into life and experience more.”
They all look excited at that, which is a relief. I’m not quite sure how what I said will work, but I somehow know it will, in fact, work.
“Work in groups, or one huge team, or individually, whatever feels most appropriate. And do more than just work. Take some time to reflect, to chat, to relax. I’m not running a hell here, heh. Take your time and enjoy creating something, and appreciate that you’ll have more at the end than what you hold in your hands.”
It takes them a few moments after that to start wandering around, exploring the area, and I wonder if I should make various workshops, or allow them to make them on their own. I mull over the benefits of each for a while, before a voice grabs my attention.
“Lord Thedeim?”
I focus on the same ratkin who spoke up first, earlier. “What’s up, Emarlo?”
He resists the urge to kneel once more before answering. “Um… what should we make?” he asks, and I see most of the dwellers around him also looking like they would like some guidance.
I smile at them before speaking. “Anything,” I speak, leaving it hanging in the air for a few moments, before continuing. “I know, it can be difficult to pick something with so many possibilities around. When you have everything to choose from, it’s almost impossible to choose anything. I’m not going to make you make anything specific, that goes against the whole point. You can change your mind and make something else later, too, if you get a good idea. But if you want a suggestion…”
I gesture at the peaceful surroundings. “I would note a distinct lack of chairs around here.”
“Chairs?” echoes Emarlo, looking confused.
I nod. “Chairs. While there’s also a lack of rooms to put them in, everyone appreciates having a comfortable place to sit. Grass and rocks can only get so comfortable.”
Emarlo still looks a bit confused, but the dwellers around him start talking about what to make, soon drawing him in. I listen to them discuss as I watch the others explore and poke at the nodes, unsurprised as most seem to want to make something other than a chair. While I wasn’t joking about the lack of places to sit, I’m hardly upset about most of them wanting to make something else. There’s a lot of things that could make the afterlife a bit better, chairs are not specifically the point. It just helps ground their ideas, gives them a point to start from, a way to look around for something to change for the better.
I pull my attention back to the world in time to see the wave of orange wash out from my core and through my territory. It also spreads out from Teemo over the hospital, and I know it’s going to continue until it washes over probably all of Silvervein. I can feel my followers as the wave passes over and through them, bolstering them a little and reaffirming our victory.
Aranya feels like a beacon when the wave reaches her, and I can feel our connection strengthen considerably. I try to gently point her attention back to the kobolds around her, since they’re probably going to need as much help as they can get. Their world has been pretty thoroughly turned upside-down, and they’ll need her to help right it once more.
In the hospital, everyone not one of my denizens is staring at Teemo, even the people from Silvervein. I guess the kobolds aren’t the only ones who might appreciate a hand and an explanation. The building realization of what happened is soon shattered as Teemo waves a hand in front of his nose.
“Whew, Boss! Really? Right in the hospital? You find some magic beans or something?”
I stare for a few moments before laughing. Magic beans make beanstalks, not orange waves!
“If you say so, Boss. Anyway, everyone,” Teemo pauses to look over everyone in the hospital. “Yeah, jokes aside, you all know what happened. For the people from Silvervein, the Boss isn’t big on ceremony. Besides, there’s a big mess to clean up, so let's focus on that, yeah? So if you’re in bed, focus on recovering. If you’re walking around, focus on helping. That’s what the Boss and I are gonna do.”
I smile as Teemo slips into a shortcut, and watch through the eyes of my scions as they help put back together the mess we made of Silvervein. It’s going to be a lot different from how we found it, but that was kinda the point. Different doesn’t always mean better, but I’m going to give it my best shot. When I look at my territory, and even peek into the little slice of afterlife I control, and see how things are going, I can’t help but feel confident that better isn’t beyond reach.