Stan had started pacing the kitchen floor. Brownie kept her watch over Fiddleford, who hadn’t moved from his place on the floor. The man was droning on about something that Stan had tuned out. He wasn’t sure if it was a nervous habit, or if the -12 on his Wisdom made him unable to process that he was in danger.

Or maybe he trusted Ford when he’d said that he vouched for him. Even if he didn’t exactly know what he was vouching for.

Stan didn’t know, it seemed unlikely. Fiddleford had literally tried to erase Ford’s memories not too long after. Then again, the guy didn’t exactly seem rational.

“-I wonder why arachnids always come in eights and insects come in sixes, it seems odd, you know?” Fiddleford said to Brownie, who ignored him.

“Right, of course, pardon me. That’s probably a touchy subject.” Fiddleford said,

“What the heck are you on?” Stan asked aloud. “Other than antimemory lasers.”

Stan paused.

Anti memory, Antimemetic.

He hummed in thought.

“Hey Wiz.” Stan said, “Define Antimemeticist.”

ERROR: COMMAND NOT RECOGNIZED

“Open the menu for Antimemeticist.”

ERROR: COMMAND NOT RECOGNIZED

“open uh… class listing for Antimemeticist?”

ERROR: COMMAND NOT RECOGNIZED

Well. Its not like he had anything better to do. Ford sure was taking a while huh? Stan was pretty sure he didn’t park that far away.

…

If he passed out in the snow Grimm would come back for help right?

Huh? Stan paused his train of thought.

“Wiz.” Stan said, “Help Antimemeticist.”

Antimemeticist

Legendary class

The mind is considered sacred to most, but not all. For centuries people have studied ways to control and stop the formation of new memories. They have chosen to take on the path of the Antimemetic, and at the risk of their sanity, gained the ability to manipulate the minds of others through non magical means.

Stan stared at the box for a moment, before waving it away. Well Shoot. That didn’t sound ominous at all. He paused for a moment.

“Help Kitchen Specter.” Stan said,

Kitchen Specter

Common

Death is only the beginning. Those who have this class are bound to their place of rest, in this case, a kitchen.

“Seriously? Two sentences?” Stan huffed, “And Ford said that I’m not a ghost.”

Wiz didn’t respond.

“Fine! Whatever. Help Dungeon Core.”

Dungeon Core

Soul Rank A+

A rare species made of condensed crystalline mana. Immortal and ever expanding, Dungeons are fueled by the constant need to consume. They lead armies of malformed creatures bound to their prodigious souls in order to defend their treasures. Those who lived lives of incredible greed with high mental fortitude can be reborn as a Dungeon.

Stan read and reread the text box. Most of the words blurred into the background, except for one word.

Immortal.

He had died. He had almost died a lot before then. He was frail, he knew when he should be hungry and tired. Humanity was deeply engrained in everything he did.

Stan Pines did not need to breathe.

He hadn’t breathed since Ford left to get the handcuffs.

Since he had woken up small inhumanities had been building up. He was changing. He had eaten his corpse and felt nothing but ecstasy. That didn’t mean that he was immortal. Stan didn’t know why he was so opposed to being ‘immortal’ in the first place. Heck, didn’t everyone want to live forever? Some kind of intuition whispered that it was a trick. There was always a trade off, and with one like immortality, it would have to be a big one. His ghostly state didn’t seem like enough.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The sound of the door opening jolted him out of his thoughts. A moment later Ford entered the room, followed by Grimm. He dropped the car keys on the counter and turned to Fiddleford, dangling a pair of handcuffs from one finger.

Ford looked terrible. His trench coat was soaking wet, and he slumped slightly as he walked. He looked tired. More tired than when Stan first arrived. Ford slid off his coat and drooped it on his chair.

“Stanferd.” Fiddleford said, “You can’t be serious.”

“You attacked me.” Ford said,

“Oh come-“ Fiddleford began,

Grimm snarled. Fiddleford went silent.

It took approximately ten minutes to get Fiddleford cuffed. He had protested, but only briefly. Once restrained, Fiddleford tugged on his restrained arm, the table screeched as it moved an inch. Ford frowned. Fiddleford gave him a look that dripped with unspoken sarcasm.

Stan opened his inventory.

INVENTORY:

Cutlery:

-5x Fork

-7x Spoon

4x Knife

Refined Materials:

-7.4 pounds glass

Unrefined Materials

-12 pounds dust

Misc.

-.02 pounds metal

-.0000008 pounds paper

-.00003 pounds sugar

Stan tugged on the glass. It appeared as phantom shards that floated in front of him. He imagined them molding together, and they formed a ball of glass with the consistency of water. He separated the glass into four orbs and slid them under the feet of the table. With a little extra effort, he fused the glass to the table and floor. Then he realized the glass.

The mana drain was almost painful. Not physically painful. It was by far the most expensive thing that he had done. It felt wrong to spend so much on something that felt so… trivial. The look on Fiddleford’s face was almost worth it. He stared at the sudden appearance of the glass. His mouth held slightly open, then almost instantly it shifted it calculating scientific curiosity.

It was an intense expression he had only ever seen on Ford’s face before, and it was slightly disorienting. He reached out and carefully ran his free hand across the smooth glass. He made a sound of interest and turned to Ford, but his face fell a moment later he cleared his throat.

Ford was looking at the glass as well, but quickly hid his interest when Fiddleford turned to him instead giving a fair approximation of boredom. Stan chuckled. Grimm’s tail thumped on the ground. Brownie hadn’t crawled back onto the counter, instead staying on the floor near Grimm. She nodded approvingly at Stan’s handiwork.

Ford turned toward the door. Mostly it appeared, because he didn’t want to look in Fiddleford’s direction, not because he had any indication where Stan was in the room. He had been standing by the window, but moved once Ford went to address him.

“Stan, I moved your car up to the house.” He said

He summoned a fork on the counter. So that was what had taken him so long.

Ford nodded absentmindedly.

Stan looked at the red blotches on Ford’s arms, and his wet clothes, then frowned.

“Brownie, patch him up would you?” He said,

The spider skittered over to Ford. She looked like she was about to climb up him, but then paused and instead tugged on his pant leg. It didn’t look like much, but the sudden flexibility made Stan blink, he was pretty sure that she couldn’t move like that before. Ford turned to look at her with confusion obvious on his face.

“…yes?” He asked.

She pointed up at him. Gesturing with her foremost legs at his arms.

Ford looked confused. Then, in a completely serious voice said, “You want uppies?”

Stan snorted, then doubled over and began to cough/laugh uncontrollably. Grimm sensed his amusement and his tail began to wag again, his ears went back and his mouth lolled open in a sort of doggish smile. Fiddleford looked at the sudden shift in his captor’s mood with mild alarm, but knew better than to try and talk at this point.

Brownie looked mortified. But apparently Ford couldn’t read her emotions as well as Stan could, because he cautiously reached down and picked her up. Awkwardly cradling the dodgeball sized spider. Brownie tried to regain some of her dignity and began to prod at the silken bandages on Ford’s arms the best she could from the rather awkward angle.

Ford realized what she was trying to do and began shift her in his arms, rather unsuccessfully. Stan caught his breath, and realized that he had been breathing. He grinned as he watched the pandemonium unfold. Eventually they sorted themselves out and Brownie rotated around Ford’s outstretched arm as she ate the old bandages and rewrapped the broken scabs.

Stan once again noticed that Brownie was far more flexible than she was before. Was it the shadow puppets? He shrugged and checked her status.

NAME: Brownie

LV: 13

RACE: BROWN RECLUSE

CLASS: PREDATOR

EQUIPPED: N/A

REPUTATION: Animal Companion

CURRENT STATUS EFFECTS: Dungeon’s Boon

HP: 13/13

STR: 16

DEF: 7

AGL: 12

SPD: 9

INT: 5 (+2)

WIZ: 4

CHAR: 2 (+2)

Stan squinted. She’d gained two levels. One for each Dungeon’s Boon? Then he shook his head. If he remembered correctly, only one of the rewards was experience. A hundred experience would’ve given him two levels, if the amount he needed to level didn’t go up. But that didn’t make any sense. He was level three, Brownie was thirteen. Shouldn’t it cost way more mana for her to level up?

Hey wait. Brownie’s stats were higher than Fiddleford’s, albeit with different specialties, and he was in his twenties. Stan furrowed his brow as he pulled up Fiddleford’s status and held it beside Brownie’s.

NAME: Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, Father of the Unseen

LV: 21

EXP TO NEXT LV: 99/150

RACE: Human

CLASS: Antimemeticist

EQUIPPED: Memory Gun

REPUTATION: Hostile

CURRENT STATUS EFFECTS: Brain fog III

HP: 58/60

MP: 12/12

STR: 6

DEF 7

AGL: 4

SPD: 8

INT: 15 (-7)

WIZ: 1 (-12)

CHAR: 2

“Wiz. Compare the base stats of Fiddleford and Brownie.” Stan said.

Brownie: 54

Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, Father of the Unseen: 43

“What?” Stan asked no one in particular.

Brownie: 54

Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, Father of the Unseen: 43

“I wasn’t asking you Wiz!” Stan snapped. The box gingerly vanished.

This didn’t make any sense. Why did Wiz keep using Fiddleford’s full name anyway? Why did he get addressed with his nickname, and Ford his full name, but neither of them had their middle names? AND Stats had to be determined somehow. Brownie was eight levels lower than Fiddleford, why did she have more than him? He was pretty sure that Brownie could beat Fiddleford in a fight, Ford too.

But that was mostly because he wasn’t sure that they would be able to get a hit on her. Grimm was only level five and he could definitely beat both Ford and Fiddleford in a fight. He could probably beat Brownie in a fight too…

Hm.

So there was something else dictating a base ‘strength’ for the levels and stats maybe? Maybe Brownie had high stats because she was stronger than other spiders, while Fiddleford was normal for humans?

Was Fiddleford normal for humans?

“Wiz, compare the base stats of Stanford and Fiddleford.” Stan said,

Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, Father of the Unseen: 43

Stanford Pines: 44

Was Fiddleford below average then? Stan shook his head. Ford wasn’t the best measuring stick, he was a genius. So it probably wouldn’t give the best comparison.

…

Stan paused. He sounded like a fricken nerd. That was what he got for talking to a math wizard.

“Wiz” Stan said, gesturing vaguely. “Explain.”

ERROR: COMMAND NOT RECOGNIZED

“Of course it isn’t.” Stan mumbled.