Opening specially reinforced chests with mastercrafted locks turned out to be a lot harder than Markus anticipated. Melting the lock did nothing, whether he tried flame or acid, and attempting to freeze off the hinges was also a total no-go.

He tried pulling the lock off, prizing it with his blade, and even manifesting his mana inside of the lock in order to mimic a key, but each attempt he made was completely ineffective. He’d managed to push his mana partway into the hole, and it felt as if it fit the contours of the lock properly, but any attempts to turn it caused it to slip away. The fit wasn’t perfect, and the lock was stiff. His focus waned whenever he tried to force his Manifested key to turn, and the fifth attempt was just as fruitless as the first.

Markus gave up eventually, worried he might break the lock with any more attempts to force it open. He picked up the heavy container and gave it a little shake, determined on figuring out its contents, but he couldn’t tell much. The amalgam of jingles and clatters and thumps that he received in response told him nothing discernable besides the contents of the chest being varied.

“We can take it back with us,” imp said, his voice hoarse. “I can bring some tools and we can go to work on it. What do you say?”

“Hmm…” Markus hated this. He hated being confronted with a problem he couldn’t just solve or figure a way out of. He’d gotten used to being able to force his way through things lately, and it was a good feeling. It gave him a sense of stability he’d craved.

A part of him wanted to just smash his way into the fucking chest just to risk it.

Markus raised the handle of his glaive, considering the notion, but eventually relented with a grumble.

“Fine. Guess I risked my life for this thing, might as well find a way to open it properly.”

“Not just that. Chances are it could blow up if you try and force your way into it.”

Markus’s eyes flicked up to look at him. “I’ve already been trying to force my way into it. The fuck you mean?”

“Hey! I don’t know for sure, I’m just saying it could. Expensive chests like this are often booby trapped. No clue if this one is.”

Markus felt his voice raising as he pulled himself back to his feet. “And you didn’t think to mention something like that to me sooner?”

“Well it didn’t blow up, did it, so the fuck’s it matter?” Imp shrugged. “Slipped my mind.”

“Yeah! no! Slipped your mind!” Markus nodded, stomping his way towards him as he spoke.“Because that’s such a trivial thing to even think to mention, isn’t it?”

The imp raised himself to his feet, beginning to shout in turn. “Yeah, well, you seem determined to fucking kill yourself down here, and drag me to hell with you for that matter, so what the fuck do I CARE if you get yourself blown up? You said it yourself, we leave when you’re done or when you’re dead. Either works fine by me!”

“Hey, fuck you,” Markus shouted, marching over to the imp, staring down at him. “I’m trying to survive. That’s why I’m down here. That’s why I’m fighting. I’m trying to fucking live.”

The imp laughed, his tone scathing. “Trying to live? Maybe. But survive? Look at you! You’re covered in blood and filth and bleeding from twenty places. How the fuck are you trying to survive?”

“I need to get stronger so that I can—”

“Can what?!” the imp seethed, baring teeth, pushing his head straight up as he barked fresh vitriol. “Your life is simple! You make a deal with a god and you get to go live an easy life and be rich and happy and want for fucking nothing! Oh no! Poor you!”

“It’s not like that, and I don’t fucking want that!” Markus screamed, his lungs burning, his eyes glossed over. How fucking dare he. “Why would I want to sign my life away to someone like that? How is that fair?!”

“Fair? What the fuck is fair? At least you get a choice! Hell, you get twenty! But apparently, instead of a free ride, you want to fucking survive! Explain that!”

“Why should I explain?” Markus shook his head, turning away, ignoring the imp’s glare, his blossoming anathema. “You were willing to kill yourself to fuck over your boss, so why should I listen to you lecture me about what I should and shouldn’t do? You’re way worse than I am!”

“I made a choice,” the imp grumbled, barked. “I thought it would be the last one I ever made, but it wasn’t, and I’m still here. Hooray! But at least I’m not lying to myself. I want that bastard to suffer for the choices he’s made, and I hate him more than you could ever know.”

“...why do you—”

“I could care less about you,” the imp continued, his voice sombre. “—but the way you act like you’re forced to do this shit sickens me.” He narrowed his eyes, glaring at Markus as he came around to face him. “You could get out whenever you wanted. You’re special. Not trapped like every other weak and pathetic cunt here. But that’s not good enough for you, is it? Nonono! You’re so special that you can’t just take the easy out, you have to prove something. Do things on your own terms. You know what’s really gonna happen?”

Markus crossed his arms, ignoring multiple flaring pains along his shoulders. “Please, do tell me.”

“You’re not gonna prove shit. You’re gonna die, or get forced into a nightmare you can’t escape from, because anything’s better than accepting help that you don’t want, isn’t it?”

“That’s not true,” Markus argued, teeth grit, temper fully ignited. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Sure I don’t. Keep up that attitude. All you’re gonna do is waste your time trying to do anything in this world, trying to fix anything. But hey! At least you’re taking charge of your own destiny. When I’m scraping your bloody mess off the walls, when I’m scooping up the monster shit you get turned into, or when you get locked into eternal servitude with my boss, I’ll ask you how the ego trip panned out!”

Markus shook his head. He blocked it out as best he could. “That’s bullshit.” He paced back and forth as he spoke, gesticulating wildly. “I don’t think I’m better than you because I’ve got a choice. I’m lucky to have a way out of this shit, you’re right! And no, it’s not the way I want. It’s not fucking good enough, and I don’t accept it, even if it would be easy.

“I don’t accept any of this shit. I wanna earn my way out of here because I fucking deserve it. I wanna tear this place down because it should be torn down. I wanna fight to stay alive even if it’s impossible, and rip the smug smile off of Drathok’s stupid prick face for putting me here.”

“...”

The imp simply breathed, panted. They both did. For a long while, he looked like he might storm off in a huff or simply attack Markus.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Somehow, neither eventuality came to pass.

Instead, the imp sauntered over to the chest and gave it a good kick. Then another, harder this time.

Markus’ heart leapt. His body froze. What the fuck was he doing?

Next, he produced a small metal object that almost resembled a dagger, and immediately started trying to prize the tip into the lock. He jammed it in hard and began to twist as the metal creaked.

Markus jumped up and grabbed his arm, yanking him away, his hands sweaty. “Why the fuck are you doing that? Didn’t you say it could be trapped?”

“It’s not hard to put your life on the line for no fucking reason,” the imp answered, pocketing the dagger. “But it’s fucking stupid, isn’t it?”

“I have a reason,” Markus answered. “You’d die to prove some stupid point?”

The imp rolled his eyes. “Chests like that ain’t trapped, you moron. I was just fucking with you.”

“You… you were what?”

“Fucking with you,” the imp repeated. His gnarled face split into a smile, but it looked forced. “I was bored, so I decided to get you riled up.”

Markus didn’t know what the fuck to say. Half of him was relieved, and the other part of him wanted to punch the little bastard.

Maybe there’d been a point to what he was saying. Markus wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just spite and jealousy. And craziness. Couldn’t forget that.

The imp waddled back over to the chest, grabbing the tool that was still sitting in the lock. “You want this thing open, asshole?”

Markus watched as he fumbled with the lock, his mind vacant. He considered just letting him get on with it for a moment. What would it hurt, right?

“No,” Markus eventually said, shaking his head. “I’ll figure it out myself. Let’s just get moving.”

“Have it your way,” the imp said, retracting his tool and pocketing it. “Where you dragging me next?”

Markus fought a nagging itch in the back of his brain as he searched for his next target. He ignored it as best he could.

He’d find his way through this shit.

He would.

***

Markus got lost in the viscera. In the bloodshed. The carnage.

He was more creature than human in these moments. The depths he had to fall to in order to rise above the terrors put before him, they were plateaus he didn’t think himself capable of summounting. He had to tell himself so many times that he had to keep fighting, that nothing mattered more than this. He’d come here to get strong. To be his own champion, to fight for himself. To not have to rely on anyone else again, to not be forced into another shitty situation or pushed into another choice he didn’t really have.

His resolve was the only thing that kept him going. That and the healing he received from each monster he drained, the cores he gathered, the levels he continued to gain, and the droplets of water he managed to wrangle out of the Frost Mana he generated.

Each enemy only made him push harder, but there were times where he could feel the growth outweighing his exhaustion ever so slightly, times in which despite the groaning, unyielding pain he put his body through to swing his weapon once more, the enemies fell faster and easier than he ever would’ve thought possible only hours before.

It was a testament to his progress, to his determination. Perhaps to insanity. It was hard to say anymore. It’d been so long that he didn’t truly know how long he’d been down here, and he hardly cared. As long as he could keep going, he’d do just that.

Twelve bats, two quadrupeds that resembled long-legged bears, a three-eyed slime monster, six overgrown rats, and one giant arachnid which he’d fled from immediately because fuck that shit—he’d seen enough movies to know where that one ended.

By the time he’d finished running the fuck away, he’d realised that his legs weren’t willing to carry him any further. This was maybe the fifth time tonight that Markus had felt that exact sensation, the will to move just not being there, but every other time, he’d managed to push his way through it, to subsist on fumes and keep moving forwards.

Now, however, he finally seemed to have reached his limit. He was beyond tired. He was a shell.

He’d been down here for hours upon hours. HIs body was aching, his mind was spinning. His vision was doubled, and his stomach was doing flips.

When he looked at the imp this time, he saw that despite the relative lack of injury by comparison, the guy looked nearly as tired as him. Markus weathered a sigh.

“Okay. I’m done.”

The imp’s massive ear twitched. “You’re done?”

“I’m done. Send us back, and I’ll take the bomb out your chest.”

“Sounds fucking swell to me,” the imp said, shoving both of the chests over to Markus. “Guess we never got to ten, huh?”

“I’ll give you more than a few silver,” Markus said, his eyes drooping. “But we can always come back here.”

“Hah, you’re fucking crazy if you think I’m doing this twice.”

Markus didn’t argue. He couldn’t be bothered. His entire body felt as if it was gonna collapse. It took everything to reach out and touch both of the chests so they’d get pulled in the imp’s teleport and not fall the fuck over in the process.

When they landed back in his cell, Markus immediately fell back onto his bed.

He brushed against something fluffy and flaming. He barely flinched, the flames dulling to a simple warmth against the back of his head as soon as he made contact. She was a pillow.

“Hey, why you got a fucking bed?” the imp asked, his voice cracked, too hoarse from earlier to scream properly. “We don’t get fucking beds. We get rolls! You’re a prisoner!”

“I got a bed…” Markus was half-asleep already. Ember shifted beneath him, licking his shoulder as he attempted to form words.

“Yeah, you got a bed. Crazy bastard. Not surprised you’re tired after all that.”

“What’s…”

“Huh?” the imp growled, kicking one of the posts as Markus mumbled. “Speak up! I ain’t got all day!”

“What’s your name?” Markus asked, eyes closing even as he said the words.

“Abrah.”

With that, he walked away, and Markus drifted into sleep.

***

“Hey! Prisoner!”

Female voice. Female imp voice.

Markus rolled onto his side, his entire body aching horribly.

Some of his wounds were gone. Ember must’ve healed him a little overnight. He was brimming with extra Life Mana.

“Hey… you awake?”

He recognised the voice. Lexi, right? The imp that had brought him to his cell the first time, the one he’d seen with Drathok.

“Yeah… what’s up?” Markus answered in the groggiest tone imaginable, forcing himself into a sitting position, feeling as if he were doing a pull up with a hundred pound weight on his back.

“Fight time. You’re on in thirty. I came to wake you an hour ago, but you were completely dead to the world.”

Damn, and here he was used to getting rushed out the door with two minutes to spare.

“Thanks. Any clue what I’m fighting?”

“None. Drathok told me, I think? But I forgot. You need anything before you leave?”

“Uhh…” Markus attempted to think through the pounding head he’d developed, tried to summon up the capacity to even conceive of desires.

“I wanna spend my points before I go out there,” he finally said. “I’ve got like, a lot of admin shit to do.”

“Hmm, okay. You want anything while you do that? Water? Healing potion? Some cooked eggs?”

Markus opened his eyes properly for the first time since he’d awoken. He saw a little demonic angel staring back at him, blinking innocuously with those massive black eyes.

“Uhh, yes to all three?”

“Got it! Back in five minutes.”

Fuck, man. Maybe being an indentured servant gladiator wasn’t so bad. He could get used to the room service.

…that was his stomach talking. Lexi aside, fuck this place.

Five minutes later, Markus was munching eggs and chugging water and not downing a health potion because Lexi seemed to be mentally maxed out at two requests.

While she ran to get it, Markus looked through his notifications. He’d been holding off on doing so the whole time last night, forcing himself to simply fight while he had the energy and only put some points into Spirit as he went as a means to further increase his free point acquisition.

He’d started yesterday at level 22. Now he’d more than doubled that. To say that he was rolling in points was a fucking understatement, and that was even without counting the progress his blade had made.

He had hundreds of stat points available to sort through, twenty minutes to figure this shit out, and a bunch of breakpoints just waiting to be ticked over. About time he got spending.