The silence in the chamber was thick, broken only by the soft gurgling of water and the rhythmic clicking of crustaceans clinging to the seaweed-draped walls. Pag stared at PillowHorror, his mind a maelstrom of confusion and disbelief. The infamous agent of chaos, the player known for his disruptive antics and disregard for authority, knelt before a Lunar Oracle, his head bowed in a posture of reverence that seemed utterly incongruous with his reputation.

"PillowHorror..." Pag began, his voice raspy, the effects of Tombs Rattle tightening their grip on his lungs. Each breath sent shards of pain through his chest, a constant reminder of his dwindling time.

PillowHorror glanced up, his expression unreadable beneath the shadows of his hood. “Ah, Pagacco,” he acknowledged, his voice a low purr. “Or should I say, Paggums, or Pag, or the ‘Fabulous’ ‘Enemy of Soohan’?”

Pag’s brows furrowed. ‘Fabulous’ ‘Enemy of Soohan’? One was a title he remembered receiving early in the game, the other one he received in the ruins. A chill ran down his spine. Was this another one of PillowHorror’s manipulations? Had he somehow orchestrated events to lead Pag to this point?

A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he swayed, his vision blurring. He gripped the hilt of his dagger, the cool metal grounding him. He glanced at his character sheet, the countdown timer mocking him with its steady descent: One hour, thirty minutes.

Aviva reached out, her hand a steadying presence on his arm. “Easy, Pag,” she whispered, concern lacing her voice. “You need to conserve your strength.”

PillowHorror rose, his movements fluid and graceful, a stark contrast to the lumbering gait of the warrior who had guided them here. He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “You are dying, Pag,” he said, his voice soft, almost sympathetic. “The Tombs Rattle is a cruel mistress, death by it would mean a perma death for that avatar and starting from the beginning all over again, but there is a cure.” He paused, letting the words hang in the water-filled air.

“You know where to find it?” Pag asked, hope flickering in his chest. He hadn’t expected PillowHorror to be so direct. The player was known for his cryptic pronouncements and elaborate schemes.

PillowHorror chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that echoed oddly in the chamber. “I know many things, pag. I know the secrets that sleep beneath the waves, the whispers of forgotten gods, the desires that burn in the hearts of men.”

He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “Dedisco offers you a chance, a path to salvation. He offers you knowledge, power, and a cure for your ailment. In return, he asks only for your loyalty, your assistance in his return to this world.”

Pag stumbled back, the implications of PillowHorror’s words hitting him with the force of a physical blow. Dedisco, the forgotten god, the deity he had inadvertently offended, wanted to recruit him? And PillowHorror, the infamous agent of chaos, was his champion.

“Why me?” Pag asked, his voice hoarse, the weight of the offer pressing down on him. “What could I possibly offer a god?”

PillowHorror’s smile widened, revealing a glint of sharp teeth. “You are more than you appear, pag. You possess a power that even you do not yet fully comprehend. A power that Dedisco seeks to harness, a power that can reshape this world.”

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Pag’s gaze darted to Aviva, seeking guidance, reassurance. She stood silently, her expression unreadable, her hand still resting on his arm. He could feel the tension in her grip, the uncertainty in her silence.

“Time is short, pag,” PillowHorror said, his voice taking on an insistent edge. “The Pale Tide rises, and with it, the fate of this world hangs in the balance. Choose wisely.”

Pag glanced at his character sheet, the countdown timer ticking down relentlessly, a stark reminder of his dwindling time. He had a choice to make, a choice that could have profound consequences not only for his avatar, but for the entire world of Ludere Online.

He hesitated, the weight of the decision crushing him. The chamber seemed to shrink around him, the water pressing against his chest, a physical manifestation of the suffocating pressure he felt.

“I…” he began, his voice cracking, the words catching in his throat.

The Oracle, silent until now, spoke, her voice a melodic chime that echoed through the chamber. “The choice is yours, Pag. But remember this: power comes at a price, and the path of darkness is often paved with good intentions.”

Her words hung in the air, a warning and a prophecy, as Pag struggled to make a decision that would shape his destiny.

Pag waved away the decision the system hovered before him, letting loose a violent coughing fit that sent knives of pain through his chest. When the coughing finally subsided his voice was ragged and breathy. “Cut the bullshit, drop the roleplay. I know about the Kellin. Tell me what it is you guys are up to and give me a cure or just let me die in peace.” He hadn’t intended to go about it this way but he was just so tired, the exhaustion like a physical weight that grew with each moment the timer ticked down.

PillowHorror’s near malevolant smile disappeared, and he takes a step back. “The Kellin?” he repeats, his voice losing its playful tone. “You know about the Kellin?”

Aviva, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, steps forward, her gaze fixed on PillowHorror. “We do. What we don’t know is how you know and what it have to do with the Pale Tide, with Dedisco. Unless he is one of us.”

“It’s… complicated,” PillowHorror replies, his voice hesitant for the first time. “Wait. Us?” He gives aviva a scrutinizing look then glances at the Lunar Oracle, who nods slightly, as if giving him permission to speak.

Pag, ignoring the sharp pain that lances through his chest with every breath, pushes forward. “We don't have time for complicated,” he rasps, his voice strained. “The timer is ticking, and I’m not interested in playing games anymore. Tell me what you know, and tell me how to stop this debuff” He gestures weakly to his chest, where the Tombs Rattle continues to tighten its grip. His vision blurs for a moment, and he leans heavily against Aviva for support.

“Tell us the truth, tell us what youre up to.”

He turns to Pag, his eyes filled with a strange intensity. “Dedisco offers you a cure, a chance to save your avatar. But in return, he demands your loyalty, your assistance in getting free. Textos and the others sealed him away. He and I have been working to get the devs to loosen the chains the others put on him enough to get him out.”

“Why did they seal him?” pag asked. “Why does he want free so bad?”

Pillowhorror stared at pag for a long moment, then all at once the affectations and posture fell away. His voice came out weary and with a slight unplaceable accent. “Because he was convinced that if they worked with dave it would draw the attention of the keiligorn.”

As the last vestiges of the character PillowHorror had been playing sloughed off of him, another figure stepped from the shadows and spoke as they pulled off a set of thick leather gloves. “He wasn’t wrong.”

Pag stared at the name tag hovering over their head as the others whirled to face ProlixalParagon.

End of book 1