“I’m so sorry,” Theora told her right as Dema looked up in the sky too, wondering what Theora had found there.

“Why, about what! What’d I do!”

Theora let out a soft laugh. “What’s with that question? I’m the one apologising. You did nothing wrong.”

Dema grinned back. “Whatever! Why are you sorry!”

“I think I ruined the surprise,” Theora said with a sad sigh. “I think I can guess what you have been teasing at. But I still don’t understand the inner workings of it.”

“Why, it should be easy enough! Just think aloud!”

Theora frowned, but obliged.

“Back when you recovered from being sick, you were really happy,” Theora murmured. “And you mentioned an upgrade to [Immortality]. But that’s a binary Skill, either you are immortal or you aren’t. Plus, Legendary Skills don’t typically get upgrades. Often, they don’t even scale with Levels. They are not supposed to become stronger on further uses, because many of them are a one-time achievement over a lifetime. So, in that way, your case is definitely unique. It is puzzling, to say the least.”

“Ha! That’s because immortality’s a lifelong process! There’s always something that can happen, like that damn scroll of yours. So, the Skill would do me no good if it can’t upgrade!”

Theora did a double take. While sounding completely unbelievable, that still made a surprising amount of sense. Yes, if Dema’s lifelong pursuit was to never die, then the Skill would need to adapt to changing times too. “But in that case, wouldn’t the natural upgrade be to become immune to the scroll’s use?”

Dema shrugged. “I ain’t scared of that damn scroll. Was just an example! Point is, it makes no sense for an immortality-skill not to be adaptable, so here I am!”

If Theora slotted that piece of information into the puzzle… She remembered back when they’d been stuck in the seal of the chasm, Dema had played around with a fossil she’d called ‘Old Lass’, and complained about how she couldn’t turn her back alive.

It was quite obvious that this was what she was attempting to do now.

“Ah.” Theora understood. There was a certain type of upgrade that would fit within an immortality-skill that could allow for something like Dema wanted to happen. “That’s beautiful,” she said. “Will you read the Skill to me? I would like to know the precise wording that enables this.”

“Why, sure! If you’re that curious.”

[Immortality], Level 152.

You will always be alive.

[Level 100 Unlock]: You may extend the above effect to another being of your choice. (Slots occupied: 0/1)

Really, Dema was an extraordinary creature. How had she managed to fuse two of her long-standing wishes thematically into one Skill? The entire point of a Legendary Skill was to just have one ultimate wish in a lifetime, not to add stuff to it as one pleased. In addition, the wording of the skill was terrifyingly precise.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

You will always be alive.

Normally, when going for an immortality-granting Skill, one would assume the wording to be something akin to ‘You cannot die’. Compared to that, ‘You will always be alive’ seemed to patch more loopholes. It was a more robust way to receive the desired effect. And, conveniently, with the additional unlock, it seemingly allowed the [Immortality] extension to be used on something that had already died.

In other words, Dema had not only made herself an immortality Skill, but a revival Skill as well, all in one package. It was rather easy to dismiss Dema due to her goofy nature, but Theora had never been prouder of that scarily strong and capable person standing right in front of her.

And at these thoughts, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Then you could have chosen anyone as your target,” she mused. “Didn’t need to use it on a fossil.”

“Yeah! But I wanted it to be a fossil! Because wouldn’t it be cool to know someone who’s been alive before the both of us? Not like we meet those every day.” She raised her eyebrows. “Like, fossils are… millions of years old? That’s gonna put us to shame. Damn, if you think about it, that means our child’s gonna be even older than us!”

“Our child?” Theora spluttered, unable to choose which of these two words to stress. “I— Our? How is it our child?”

Dema put on a prideful grin, raising her hands to make a gesture as if it was obvious. “Why, I got that upgrade while I was dying after trying to make you happy! It’s a big metaphor! Like you got me pregnant, and now we have a baby.”

Theora was unable to react. She simply felt her legs get all wobbly and the blood enter her head.

“Or, wait,” Dema said, scrunching up her face in thought. “Technically, it was the Devil of Truth who almost killed me and got me all that experience, but you took care of me all the while I couldn't get up from bed. So, would that make him the daddy and you the stepmom?”

“Let's try our best to forget this metaphor,” Theora intoned.

“Either way, it’s great! Let’s take care of her together!”

“So you already know the gender?”

Dema shrugged. “Her hips are kinda wide,” she said, pointing at the skeleton. “Face is kinda girly, too. But if she wants to choose another gender, that’s gonna be up to her!”

Theora was very rapidly losing her grip on reality. She slumped further towards the ground, her knees touching the rocky stone.

She was going to have a child?

She would be a terrible mother. Dema would need to shoulder all of the responsibility and put in all the effort, just like she had done back with… With whom?

With Tras.

Yes, back then, when Dema had spent all those days playing with him, running around and joking and laughing, making sure that he’d have the best possible time despite his terrifying situation. She had been there for him the whole way, and saved him, two times.

If anything, Theora had absolutely no doubt that Dema would do well as a parent.

But Theora herself wouldn’t. Still, she was not going to tell Dema what to do and what not to do, and if there was a person in need of help, Theora would try her best to be there for them, regardless of how they came to be. As such, she was ready to bear the responsibility, even though she felt completely inadequate.

Feeling inadequate was Theora’s natural state of being, wasn’t it?

As she was brooding, Dema sat down in front of the fossil. “You good?” she asked, beaming at Theora.

“I— Yes. I’m alright. I’m a little overwhelmed.”

Dema’s face softened, and was replaced by a kind smile. “We can wait, you know!”

Theora shook her head. “Please do it. I want to meet her, too.”

With that, Dema nodded and stretched out her hands. Splurges of blood issued out from them, and at the same time, she made the shale rocks on the ground reform using earth magic.

Within a few seconds, it all came together.