The Baleful Lady sat with her back against the plush red velvet of the vintage-style couch, stirring a warm beverage with a tiny silver spoon that held a ridiculous amount of engravings.

“Ahh, it really is the best.” The Lady sighed as she finished taking a sip.

Drew, Spock, and Amber sat across from the Primordial of Death, on a matching couch, with three cups of the same warm delicacy in their hands. Freya laid on the floor next to the couch closest to Amber, chewing on what appeared to be a femur of a humanoid creature. Drew looked down to the hot chocolate in his hands, seeing the tiny floating marshmallow skulls bob up and down in the pool of warm delight.

He took a sip of his drink, and instantly relaxed. It really is the best hot cocoa. The warm liquid ran down his throat and seemed to soothe his very soul as he felt it hit his stomach. He leaned back into the couch and let his head sink deep into the plush material.

“It really is, please give my regards to Jeeves, this is truly magical.” Drew sighed as he spoke in a calm and casual tone.

Spock and Amber looked at each other. Spock arched an eyebrow, and Amber shrugged as they both took a sip of their matching drinks. Soon they slumped back into a state of relaxation and enjoyment as well.

“It will brighten his day to hear that my Champion appreciates his beverages. Most of my Baleful Wardens are very stoic and dour. Jeeves was beginning to believe I only complimented his talents to boost his self-esteem.” The Lady said, her head tilted up, staring at the fresco scenes of life and death painted on the ceiling of her study.

“It is very good.” Amber nodded her head.

“Indeed. I believe I prefer Drew Wright’s coffee, but this is very enjoyable.” Spock added.

The Lady’s attention refocused on the three people and dog, in front of her. She raised her eyebrow, and a minute smile could be seen tugging at the edge of her mouth.

“I’ve missed having mortal company, especially those with kind hearts. You would be Amber, Spock, and… Freya, if I’m not mistaken, yes?” The Lady asked. Drew’s wife, and Spock nodded their heads and smiled, while Freya stopped chewing on her bone to wag her tail and also smile at The Lady.

“You’re always welcome to come to dinner at our home, just give us a ring and let us know when you’d like to come by.” Amber invited The Lady, while taking another sip of the hot cocoa.

The Lady’s smile brightened greatly.

“Perhaps I will take advantage of your hospitality once events have slowed down on your planet. It’s been many millennia since I’ve last taken a small break. Work is always so busy in the Multiverse.” The Lady chuckled. She turned her focus to Drew.

“You’ve grown well during the short time since I last saw you. You’re already low E Grade, you created a small settlement, and you’ve begun taking your profession seriously.” The Lady said after appraising Drew.

“Thank you. I’ve had little choice in that regard. We’ve had to push ourselves hard to survive and adapt to the new reality we live in. Somehow, even with our quick advancement, it never seems to be enough, and there’s several things I’m seriously concerned about.” Drew said. He wanted to come across in a polite and professional manner, while still speaking his mind.

“Yes, I’m sure you have many things on your mind. What issues have been bothering you?” The Lady asked, in a kind tone.

“Well, my profession for one. I’m supposed to collect and ferry the lost and the damned via The Rites of Passage, but our planet is huge, and I’m just a single person. I’m disturbed with the idea of so many souls running rampant on Earth, without a way to collect them.” Drew answered in a serious manner.

“That is a valid concern, and it warms my heart to see you taking the problem seriously. I’d like to clarify that I don’t expect miracles from you. I’m well aware of your limitation due to your grade, in fact most of my Baleful Wardens aren’t offered their positions until B Grade, but I digress, there are several options to alleviate your concerns…” The Lady began.

“You are my only Baleful Warden in the sector of the Multiverse that contains Earth, however there are several Wardens on your planet under my care already. Natives, like yourself, have shown promise. You are technically their senior and can issue them orders, however that means making contact with them. In the meantime, they will continue doing their job to the best of their ability. Once the incursion event is completed, you will find it much easier to organize them…”

“Your new Pillar of Civilization will also have boosted the collection range on your Baleful Lighthouse, which automatically collects nearby souls. Its range is now rather substantial. Lastly, there’s your minions…” The Lady left the last part hanging.

“What about my minions?” Drew asked with curiosity.

“You’ve likely noticed that your Soulflame minions retain the ability to have classes and professions. As they evolve, they will be given opportunities that will help you. Such as the Warden profession, or Necromancer class. Additionally, I’ve been keeping track of your titles and abilities. Have you noticed anything strange happening with your normal undead minions?” The Lady asked with a slight smile.

“Strange? I mean… they’re undead, so that’s pretty strange already. Although… Scolder has been acting more… “ Drew said while thinking out loud.

“Lifelike?” The Lady spoke Drew’s thoughts.

“Yeah! Kinda anyways. At first he was like a robot or a machine, but recently he’s been acting more like a puppy, wanting to play fetch, and I feel something across our mental bond like he’s eager to please me, almost begging me for a command.” Drew said, while scratching his chin.

“That brings me to your other minions. As you’ve seen with Damned souls, undead do not require a necromancer to begin existence. Sometimes they’re born. As you know, with the Damned, they are souls which are warped and corrupted beyond salvation. But other forms of undead exist, and they awaken naturally over time, as children. New beings. Souls begin to form, and your abilities and titles have quickened this process for several of your minions.” The Lady replied happily.

Life finds a way, huh? Drew mused to himself.

“Alright, so how does that help my situation, and won’t they be like kids?” Drew asked, leaning forward. He was deeply interested in the subject. Not only did it sound important, but it was cool seeing a different form of sapient life appearing before his eyes.

“They’ll be much like your friend over there.” The Lady said, pointing to Spock. Spock, for his part, remained quiet, but tilted his head in confusion.

“Like Spock?” Drew asked.

“Yes, in many ways, they are like children. Curious, getting into mischief, and lacking in life experiences. But, you could consider their childhood to be when they weren’t sapient yet. When they awaken, they’re adults. Just, adults lacking any form of experiences. My point here is this, the Awakened will have the option to choose classes and professions as well, and I’d recommend using them to shore up any weaknesses in your settlement.” The Lady answered, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip of her cocoa.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“I basically have a new form of life, er… unlife, they are under my direct control, ensuring loyalty, and they have classes. That would actually help us out a ton, population is currently a major weak point for us.” Drew said, almost excited at the idea of having an issue solved.

“Yes, when you get back to your planet, I’d recommend finding several Awakened, and helping them level. Teach them. They in turn, will help teach others. Oh, and just be aware, humanoid undead are typically the only ones who awaken. So if you find more of the appropriate corpses, I suggest putting them to good use.”

“Ah, time is the one thing I always seem short on. Oh well, there’s nothing that can be done about that.” Drew mumbled.

So much for that idea. If the Awakened were going to be anything like Spock, it would be a significant time investment to teach them how to… be adults. Drew internally sighed. He had hoped the solution would allow for more immediate results, but it looked like it would be a long-term process. Drew leaned back and took another gulp of his drink, which helped soothe his stress.

“Time is something I can help with, to a degree. Your group is here to utilize one of the training dungeons I’ve made available to members of my Cadre. While you are within the dungeon, time will progress at a much slower rate. You can spend weeks inside the dungeon, while only days pass in real-time. But don’t push it, you’re only in E Grade, and your bodies can only handle so much time dilation.” The Lady warned.

“It’s like the Hyperbolic Time Chamber!” Drew said excitedly.

“The what?” The Baleful Lady asked.

“Don’t mind him, it’s a nerdy reference from our planet regarding a fictional series.” Amber waved off.

“I see, so you’re familiar with the concept?” The Lady asked.

“Yeah, our society had a decent grasp on mathematics, astronomy, and physics prior to The Descent. How much time can we spend there?” Drew asked.

“Hmm, at E Grade, I’d recommend no more than twelve years while you’re inside. Although I doubt you’ll take that long to evolve to D Grade.” The Lady answered before taking another sip of hot cocoa. She picked out a skull marshmallow and bit into it, smiling.

“Holy crap, that’s a long time!” Amber exclaimed. The Lady laughed heartily in response to Amber’s outburst.

“Oh sweetie, you’re in E Grade now, and you’re of Elven descent. You’ll likely live thousands of years even if you never broke through to D Grade. Trust me, twelve years goes by in the blink of an eye. Now, what other concerns did you have?” The Lady said, still chuckling slightly.

“One of the people in our settlement was killed recently. By the time my husband got to him, his soul had already passed on. The people at our settlement were wondering if you could do anything for him…” Amber said.

His wife was thinking of Robert, the man who’d been captured by the former town council, and then killed in cold blood. He’d been a naive man, but he had a good heart, and many people were distraught to learn of his death.

“Can you describe this man, his name or appearance? There are many souls within The Halls of Reflection.” The goddess asked.

“Yeah. His name is Robert, he was an older gentleman. He had a kind heart, and always saw the good in people, even to his detriment. He did something extremely foolish, despite being told the risks repeatedly, on the extremely low chance of avoiding bloodshed.” Drew answered.

“And he perished due to this naivety?” The Lady asked.

“Yeah, he was murdered. He lived his life helping others, but I don’t think he was able to clearly see that evil existed in the hearts of his neighbors.” Drew replied.

“I see, well, let’s see if I can find this wayward soul.” The Lady said, as she snapped her fingers.

******************************************************************************

They say your life passes before your eyes as you die, but Robert hadn’t expected such a literal translation to be so valid. He didn’t know where he was, or where he was going, and he had no idea how long he’d been here. Wherever here is…

He walked upon an black, marble-like pathway, but each step felt like a lifetime. Perhaps it was more accurate to say that each step was a lifetime. He was barely conscious of the world around him, unless he physically stopped to look around. Robert stood in a grand hallway with gray and black stone, flecked with a metallic material. Beautiful, yet solemn archways stood on both sides, and within each archway sat a highly polished mirror.

Robert looked down to his body, or what he had assumed was his body. It looked just like it had in life, yet it was blue and ethereal. If he concentrated while looking at his hand, he could see the walkway that lay behind it. If he could sigh, he would have, but instead he took another step forward.

His life replayed, he found himself in his old body, his father and mother were sitting under a tree in a pasture, a blanket laid down and a picnic basket open. His mother laughed as his father smiled and told her a joke. Robert was running around, chasing his little sister through the field. He was no older than three or four years old.

It was like this every time he took a step forward in that strange hallway of mirrors. He re-lived his memories, his entire life, as if he was a passenger aboard a train. He couldn’t change anything, he had tried several times already. He couldn’t stop his little sister from being run over by a car when he was sixteen. He knew it was going to happen, and even though he tried to reach out his hand to grab her, his body wouldn’t respond.

Time held no meaning, because each step on that dark pathway, was one in which he was forced to relive his entire life. Each mistake he’d made, each moment he’d been proud of, every friend and family member he’d ever lost. He watched it go by, stuck in a body that wouldn’t respond to his desires.

Robert watched his squadmates in the war get shot to pieces as locals in straw hats popped up from hidden holes in the ground. He watched his sergeant ask him to take care of his wife as he died in Robert’s arms. He watched himself returning from the war, as he stood in the doorway of his sergeant’s widow, he watched as his body read the newspaper days later that the widow had hung herself, leaving a child behind to be raised by other family members.

Robert had stopped counting the number of times he went through life after hitting the four hundred mark. What had originally been traumatic, eventually left him feeling at peace. There was a lesson to be learned in what he was going through.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty. Robert had lived the best life he could have. He had made mistakes, oh so many mistakes, but those mistakes were still a part of his life. He couldn’t change them, he needed to embrace them, and accept them. They were just as much a part of him, as all his happy memories were.

Two questions remained unanswered however. Why was he here, and where was God? There had been no gates, and St. Peter was nowhere to be found. Maybe he hadn’t lived as pious a life as possible, but he didn’t believe that he’d sinned so badly that it outweighed his promised absolution. He’d only seen one other person this entire time, and that was when he passed through the original archway.

A striking man in a black robe of some kind had told him to enter the hall. Was that person St. Peter? Robert asked himself as he took another step forward.

This time it was different. Robert looked around. This wasn’t a memory, he was sure of it. He’d re-lived them so many times that they were ingrained within his very soul. He’d never been here before. He stood within a grand hall, the architecture and color patterns were exact copies of the hall of mirrors, but this place was different. He looked behind him.

A long, endless line of people stretched farther than his eyes could see, seemingly going on forever. Are they… people? Robert wondered, looking at beings of all shapes and sizes…

The sound of shuffling papers broke the sacred silence that permeated the hall, and Robert turned towards its source. Robert saw that he was standing at the very front of the endless line. He looked ahead of him. Where am I?

An amalgamation of shadows hovered at his two o’ clock position. Its hands shuffled through several long pieces of parchment. What is that thing? Am I in hell? Robert wondered with fear. The hovering shadow found what it was looking for and perked up, heading up a flight of stairs directly in front of Robert.

The shadow presented the papers to a… woman sitting on a throne? Is God really a woman!? The woman had a timeless beauty to her, but in a way that was not human. She wore darkened leather clothing, and had burning blue eyes, her hair… her hair seemed to change colors on its own. One moment it was silver, and the next it was red, a second later it was black. The woman looked through the papers with muted interest, flipping through them at a frightening pace.

Robert noticed a very slight movement at his ten o’ clock position and shifted his eyes over. There he saw a man in blackened plate armor, skulls seemed to be pulled forward out from pieces of the armor itself, and blue flames danced within their sockets. He held the pommel of a long, two-handed sword made of bone in his hand, with its blade facing the floor. The man had long, gray hair, with faint, ethereal tattoos that looked like strange trees running parallel down his face. One eye was glowing blue, much like the sockets of the skulls in his armor, while the other was red.

“Drew?!” Robert gasped.