I was right; these humans are a lot of fun.
...I think, as I Dominate the four generic goons guarding the front door. They’re very polite now, opening doors for me and my retinue. I made the deliberate choice not to introduce myself – most of these humans have only seen me from statues, since I didn’t bother appearing before them.
If they don’t recognize me, that’ll just be another source of entertainment. It’s so much fun being underestimated and then eating the fools!
Two upward staircases and several confused yet bypassed henchmen later, I’m standing before some mortal in a worn business suit. They're sitting behind a fancy wooden desk, fancy and big enough that I’d wonder how they got it up all those stairs if not for dimensional storage.
They quickly glance side to side between my four brainwashed stooges before leveling their eyes on me.
“Who in the hells are you and what in the hells are you doing in my office!?” they snap, their face turning red and a vein beginning to throb on their forehead.
I grin as I approach and turn enough to half sit on their fancy worksurface. “Oh, me? Who am I?” I chuckle, “I’m a very important individual. A possible business associate, even. In fact, you don’t know it yet, but you want to do business with me.”
They glare back. “If I wanted to do business with you, I would have sent for you! You weren’t invited, you aren’t welcome! Get out!”
I don’t even blink as I snap my fingers, Omorth stepping to one side and Izahne to the other with weapons (or selves?) drawn.
“You must be mistaken,” I purr. “These four humans invited me in themselves, and so here we are.”
“Mind control,” they growl. “Get to the point.”
I openly laugh. “So impatient! I suppose I understand though, your lives are so, so short. And possibly much shorter if I wanted it. You see, your first mistake was not recognizing me.”
They furrow their brow and the vein on their forehead throbs harder, but I deny them the opportunity to respond – for now.
“Your second mistake, related to the first, is that you didn’t welcome me with open arms. How am I supposed to respond to this, hmm~? Banishment? Should I simply kill you all? Drain every drop of mana from your souls until your desiccated husks crumble to dust? You certainly wouldn’t be the first you know.”
Of course it isn’t that simple though, because the fool claps their hands twice and a dozen armed goons enter from the side rooms and the door behind us.
...And then freeze on the spot as I activate both of my Auras.
I sigh performatively, letting the ash swirl about the room. “I was asking for your benefit, not mine. Now,” I say as I use The Ravages of Time on their desk, reducing it to dust in a mere moment and dropping to my feet. I kick the chair out from under them and let them collapse to the ground before taking a few steps back and forming my portable ashen throne.
“Izahne.”
My consort stiffens beside me. “Yes, my queen?”
With another sigh I continue. “We’ve been over this. Don’t call me that. Anyway, please enlighten these poor fools – Who. Am. I?”
She assumes what I assume is a regal pose, perfect for the setting – I'll have to praise her for that later. Not now, obviously, because she’ll just melt into a blushy mess without a single drop of intimidation.
“Rejoice, for before you is your lord and master, devourer of souls, the rebirth of Astraea and the Queen of Hunger; before you is Nemesis, god of envy, hunger and night, the patron god and savior of the Shadowed Plane. You will grovel before their majesty or face destruction of not only your frail form, but of your very soul. Choose wisely.”
Ooh! She’s really learning this whole intimidation thing well!
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
***
Well, that’s one down. Apparently their “boss” was really just another underling, reporting to someone else on another plane entirely. And, that’s fine. They report to me now, and their former superior can take up any complaints with my overwhelming violence.
"Anyone know why their base is in the middle of nowhere,” I ask no one in particular.
Yeah, the next one isn’t in Moonside at all. For some reason they decided to set up shop in an outlying town called Redrock, which doesn’t seem to have any special resources at all as far as I can tell.
Anyway, we’re already there thanks to Olive’s teleportation. She really is convenient to have around.
Abaris is the one to answer. “From the maps Olive has provided, I believe there was once an active dungeon near Redrock. They may be anticipating it reviving along with the plane itself.”
Huh.
“Is that a normal thing?”
Nyx manifests just long enough to say, “Yes.”
I nod thoughtfully.
...
“Wait, why would they set up organized crime at a dungeon? I thought they were all about smuggling or something.”
And I’m met with a round of sighs.
“What?”
“Uh... dungeon materials can be very valuable,” Pearl timidly says.
“Oh.... Oh! So you’re saying they want to, uh. Corner the market on whatever materials this one produces?”
“It would seem likely, Lady Nemesis,” Omorth grates.
Well, here we go again. Although…
“Are they even competing then? It doesn’t really make sense for the last group to be in Moonside if the dungeon is way over here…” I muse.
Olive begins furiously scribbling on her writing tablet before showing me the resulting diagram that simply shows how management and workforce being in different locations.
Which, I KNEW.
(Then stop asking stupid questions,) Nyx snaps.
Fair enough I guess.
***
Maybe I didn't need to go look myself, but I did anyway. I mean, why wouldn't I? My very own dungeon! But yeah, it definitely hasn’t recovered or whatever. Probably because of the massive number of my kin filling it top to bottom.
(Correct. Dungeons are mana wells, which they typically use to create monsters, traps, and bosses. Treasure too, most adventurers won’t bother with a dungeon that only makes dangerous things.)
I see. And let me guess, my kin are eating up all the mana, so it can’t do anything?
(Probably,) she says with a shrug. (Either that or they killed it entirely. Most things can’t live without mana for hundreds or thousands of years.)
Huh.
Well. One way or another, I may as well gather my kin so it at least has a chance – a dead dungeon is just boring. Maybe I can kickstart it and...
Wait... wait! That’s an excellent idea.
(Oh no,) my former Assistant moans.
You don’t even know what it is yet!
And she gives me her trademark dead stare before gesturing for me to continue.
Okay, so. Dungeons generate monsters, right?
Her dead stare somehow gets even more dead.
And bosses?
And now it’s a glare.
Can I be the boss? It’d be a great excuse to fight strong ascendants, maybe even Consume them! No, probably Consume them!
(...)
What?
Rubbing the bridge of her nose she says, (No matter how much you change, you’re still an idiot.)
Hey, whatever. I could always just, I don’t know, drain them partially? And if they can survive long enough, I could treat it like they beat me? I could make it a game, dinner and a show for me and maybe fabulous prizes for them!
I’ve been floating through the dungeon, phasing between the floors as I go, all the while calling my kin to me to be dismantled and absorbed. I’ve found a handful of desiccated chests, but all of them have been empty.
Until I find a bright, shiny one that’s miraculously still closed. But...
How would anyone even get to this thing?
(Secret area? There’s a hidden teleporter right there,) Nyx says while pointing at an extremely faint pattern on the floor. (I’d guess nobody ever found it if it’s still sealed, even after all this time.)
Interesting.
...
Well, no time like the present! The metal box doesn’t appear to have any locking mechanisms so I flip it open.
And then a yellow gas spread through the area. A yellow gas that does nothing to me, apparently.
Nyx nods. (Ah, I see, I see. A paralytic. There’s probably a secondary trap in here somewhere, since the gas would just prevent the target from leaving or fighting back.)
That’s when the box bares teeth and fruitlessly tries to take a bite out of me, so I hit it my Aura of the Unwound at full strength.
And nothing happens. What?
(Gods, you’re dumb. It doesn’t even have a soul, so how can it experience soul pain? This thing would have been dungeon animated, so I guess the only question I’d have is how it’s even still powered.)
Ah, so it’s like a golem?
She nods.
Well, I’m sure it still has mana then. Using Consume on it also confirms it, so I just stay dematerialized while it flails around the room and drain it completely dry.
(STOP!!!) my former Assistant yells, and I listen.
What? Why?
(If you reduce it to dust, you won’t get to see what’s in it! Trapped chests still have treasure after you survive!)
Huh. Well, okay then. I inspect the still intact box.
And inside, I find a glowing ball of light of some kind. I manifest a feeler and try to lift it from the bodily remains and in my grasp, it rapidly reshapes itself until the glow resolves into a one-handed dagger of some kind.
[Ritual Dagger]
Wonderful. Hey, I know you have Identify maxed. You Identify this thing.
She sighs but still looks at it, her eyes flickering gray momentarily despite being dematerialized.
(It’s a “Sunsbane Athame”, apparently. Whatever that is.)
Huh.
...
I have no idea either. I guess I’ll show it to Mimir later.