Oriz sat upon a flat rock on a spit of land extending out from the island and meditated with the glow of the incursion at her back. The tranquil water reflected the turmoil in the dungeon’s sky, but she ignored the sight as the lived-in smell of freshwater filled her nostrils. A smell untainted by the pink glow in the sky. She remembered meditating on this same rock all those years ago when she first prepared to face Zazzatha.

Back in that earlier dungeon iteration, the boss sequestered himself in the mansion’s library. His notes repeated themselves as he sought to build the Mirrorbell. A loop of mistakes captured on the eve of Zazzatha’s greatest triumph. Forever reliving the crest of his glory. Random adventurers forever striking him down.

There was no yacht. No lake. The town bustled with oblivious dungeon clones going about a facsimile of everyday life. The clones couldn’t perceive the truth of their world. They didn’t even have proper brains. Their whole bodies simple and crude things of meat and Skein with no knowledge of the portal to purgatory in the crypt below the manor.

Trinch, Princh, Crik, her master, and herself ventured down to that crypt after defeating Zazzatha the first time. That dusty tomb where she lost her destiny.

It was her master’s idea to go adventuring in a dungeon built from the bones of the Blackstar dimension. He said it would be exciting. A way for her to get over the death of her partner through action, by doing, rather than wallowing in cheap alcohol and grief.

Now… Now, she couldn’t even remember her master’s name, not after the Mind Beast in purgatory devoured him. Nor could she recall why this dungeon was so important.

Had he wanted them to fall through dimensions? She frowned. The truth still eluded her after centuries. False memories grew in her mind like weeds, but if she plucked them… was a hole better than a lie?

A beak pecked her shin hard enough to draw blood. She winced and glared at the bloody raven sitting in front of her. It wobbled and cocked its head and blinked little eyes like cut garnets. With a squawk, it activated the phantom of a technique and the blood dribbling down her shin flowed in a thin ribbon toward the raven’s open beak.

It swallowed several drops and rustled its liquid feathers with satisfaction before Oriz shooed it away. She placed a finger against her leg and stitched the wound closed with a shoot of grass essence. Her Vitality would close it in minutes, but better not give the ravens any other opportunities.

A murder of the bloody birds hopped along the beach, pecking amongst the rocks and pools, looking for anything with a pulse. Several sat in the trees along the beach like red dripping fruit. Though their alert eyes watched Oriz, none of them showed any maliciousness.

They followed through the incursion without trouble, but crossing between dimensions severed them from Miserable Henry’s will. The dungeon housed them but had not yet incorporated them into itself. So, they sat and acted like regular blood ravens. It felt wrong to mindlessly slay them.

She closed her eyes and reached out with her Skein. The birds in the trees, Trinch on the beach on the other side of the island, and further beyond, Zazzatha on his boat, and further still she felt the tunnel and the safe room where Zoe and her friends faced off against another version of the same boss.

The dungeon seethed around the threads of her Skein and she withdrew them as the sky squealed. Her eyes opened as the ravens flew out over the lake towards the mirrored houses. As they flew, their wings glowed with a scintillating rainbow aura. With each flap, the aura spread, until it cloaked their whole bodies.

Oriz stood as darkness replaced the pink in the sky. It was time to talk to Trinch.

###

Trinch lounged up from his bed of chains as the incursion portal grew the final few feet to touch the dungeon’s ceiling. The thin slash of lurid pink light bulged into a true pillar. It stretched from the island shore, through the blue sky, to the layer of dungeon skin encapsulating them all. The dungeon quivered like a soft belly facing a knife.

Trinch grinned as the portal penetrated the dungeon’s flesh.

The distant rumble of thunder became a pressurized squeal as the incursion breached the boundary between the pocket dimension of the dungeon and the dimension of Zoe’s planet Earth. A black wound opened up in the sky like a hole burned into paper. It spread. Reality crinkled at its edge. Bubbling, spitting, charring, and leaking. Droplets twisted and fell in a splintery rain. Trinch held out his hand and felt the fragments.

They stung as they pierced his skin beneath his thick green fur. Blood welled and his smile widened. True holes in reality, all-devouring, all-consuming. Even the lice crawling between his teeth rubbed their antenna together with glee. He waved at Oriz as she approached him from further down the beach, her hands held behind her back, and an expression of deep thought upon her face.

“The way is open,” Trinch said.

“I see that.”

His chains dug into the dark and rocky sand. Thousands of them flexed as he pulled himself up from a reclining position and prepared to leap into the sky. This time his jump would set him free.

But Oriz seemed upset about something. He glanced at her serious expression. Probably something to do with Zoe. He relaxed his chains.

“You want to stay,” he said.

She gazed out at the lake.

“Zoe got us here. I owe her that much.”

That was the reason he liked Oriz, she always cared about others. Not like Crik, and especially not like Princh. Whoever heard of a healer so spiteful? His chains quivered with eager agreement. They knew Princh was no fun.

“You can’t stay,” he pointed at the portal above them. “It’s already closing.”

A coruscating aura rimmed the hole in the sky. Bright rainbow light chewed at the perfect darkness. The pink and blue streaked incursion no longer touched the rocky shore as the dungeon slurped up the pillar of energy like a length of garish fettucini.

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Oriz shook her head.

“That’s not the real problem.”

She waved her hand. Scintillating rainbow light trailed after her waggling fingers.

“We’re soaked in the energies of the Blackstar dimension. As it devours the incursion, it's going to devour us. Incorporate us. How do you feel about becoming a fixture of this place for all eternity?”

“You knew this would happen.”

“It’s obvious. What else did you expect from a Blackstar dungeon?”

Trinch sighed.

“Then we have no time at all. Let’s go.”

“No. I’m staying.”

He looked her up and down.

“You think Zoe Chambers is worth this… what? This sacrifice? What can you even do to help her before the dungeon swallows you whole and spits you at her?”

“I’m doing this for me.’

Trinch lost his smile.

“I suppose you’re not as selfless as I thought you were. Very well.”

He crossed two fingers, and five ghostly chains appeared. They extended from Trinch’s hand and shackled Oriz’s ankles, her wrists, and her throat. As he uncrossed his fingers, the chains released from Oriz and flowed back into the seething mass that flowed from Trinch like a coat of metal leeches.

“You don’t seem surprised,” he said. “Did you feel my presence?”

“I knew you wouldn’t leave anything up to chance.”

“I had to be sure, but you won’t fight me.”

“What would be the point?”

Trinch chuckled, his belly jiggled, and he guffawed. His monstrous bulk rocked as he laughed and a rainbow glow trailed after the strands of his fur. Each of his chains lashed playfully. Thousands upon thousands of ghostly links glowed with shifting color as the dungeon gnawed at their very existence.

“I shall miss you,” he said as he wiped away a tear. “I hope we meet again someday.”

“Go to hell, Trinch.”

“Until then.”

He gave Oriz a casual salute and leaped into the air with a boom. Dust and rocks blasted apart as a wave raced away from the fractured shore. Windows shattered out of houses. Tiles lifted and flew away like dead leaves in the wind.

Trinch grinned as he shot headfirst toward the portal in the sky.

“Assassins don’t fight,” Oriz whispered in his ear.

He felt her weight on his back and twisted in midair to dislodge her. He couldn’t let her affect his trajectory as he shot up toward the shrinking portal. His chains lashed at her with care to prevent spinning.

A blade of grass plunged into his ear. It scraped against bone. Grew into his brain before he dislodged her with a furious roar.

[Cuddly as a Cactus]

His muscles tensed, and his Skein exploded out in a spray of barbed needles. Lances of power stabbed Oriz’s body, but she burst into blades of grass. The green cloud scattered and drifted toward the beach as Trinch flew — howling, trailing blood from his ruptured ear — into the black portal in the sky.

###

Oriz reformed her body on the beach as the portal above her closed. No more pillar of rainbow light, only the same glow around her body. She didn’t know how long she had. Maybe an hour. Probably less.

She ran. Long strides. Her foot struck the water and launched her forward with doubling speed. She could sense conflict, but could no longer feel Zoe. The dungeon’s Skein warbled and pulsed with the power of the incursion. She had to hurry.

###

The dungeon hated.

The dungeon fed.

The dungeon marveled at its new strength as its fingers sharpened and its eyes grew many.

The dungeon hated.

Soon, the dungeon would feed again.

###

Zoe stood in the arched mouth of the tunnel. Mirror coated her skin as she stood, fists ready, and watched the grey-skinned teen sitting in the center of the room. Bella stood beside her, sword raised, and Anton’s silver eyes floated out from where he waited behind them both.

The silence in the safe room was the thick, oppressive air that props up a thunderstorm ready to explode.

Zee slipped from his perch atop the heavy treasure chest and stretched out his arms. His vertebrae cracked. His knuckles popped. Even his elbows clicked as he let out a tremendous sigh and winked at Zoe and her friends.

“Why are you three standing in the doorway, why don’t you come in? Please, restore yourself,” he pointed at the dark-leafed trees. “Why don’t you eat some dungeon fruit?”

Blue lightning whipped from his pointed finger and slashed the tree. It burst into flames as he giggled. Zoe shuddered. The laugh was eerily similar to that of the Blackstar system.

“Maybe you can eat those? Oh!”

Zee blasted another tree and danced with glee as it crackled and burned.

“He feels like the thin men,” Anton whispered.

“Look at his shadow,” Bella added.

Zee’s shadow peeled away from him. It was long with the bright light of the flames and split into two. Each shadow danced differently. Their curled toes lifted and stomped with silent mirth as Zee stared at Zoe with eyes like frozen butter.

“I have a riddle for you.”

Zoe wasn’t sure what to make of him. He felt more like an overexcited and annoying kid than an actual threat. She reminded herself this was a creation of the dungeon and not a real teenager, but decided to play along for now. This could be a challenge they could talk through.

“What do I get if I answer the riddle correctly?”

Zee blinked in surprise.

“Oh, you’re interested? I haven’t spoken with adventurers in a long time, this is fun. How about… yes! I let you leave safe and sound.”

Zoe weighed up the potential threat of the level 15ish boss.

“You let us leave and you give us a Mirrorbell fragment.”

Anton raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Zee shook his head.

“I don’t have a fragment, but my brothers do. Won’t it be nice to fight them with a full tank of Skein instead of wasting it on me?”

The fire spread between the trees and the dungeon fruit blackened and burst.

“Fine,” Zoe said. “Tell me your riddle.”

“Thank you.” Zee cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “A dungeon is a contained space, but is it defined by the container, or by what it contains?”

Zoe weighed up the choice as the heat built against her cheeks. Strange to feel the heat through Mirrored skin. People built and designed dungeons. They were buildings with a purpose, and so the container made sense as an answer, but so did the alternative. A prison held prisoners, but without prisoners it was just a building.

“What do you think?” she asked Bella and Anton.

“Container,” Anton said.

“Contained,” Bella said at the same time.

“Yeah, right.”

Bella just rolled her eyes.

The fire crackled as Zoe thought it over. Thick smoke billowed up from the trees and hid the stalactites on the ceiling. Thin bursts of blue electricity wormed through the blanketing cloud. Zoe knew Zee — the dungeon — was building toward something. It wasn’t even trying to be subtle. Would it hold up its end of the deal if she answered?

She sighed, probably not.

“I choose the container,” she said.

Zee smiled.