Chapter Fifty-Eight: Lies! All Lies!

[Turn 4 Start.]

I staggered back as my turn started, the blast's pain still fresh. Anger flared as I turned to where Squawk had just been killed by Nobble. It was my first pet loss, and it had caused me significant damage. I cast my sewage spell, knocking Nobble off the platform and into the muck below.

[You dealt 7 damage to Nobble.]

Coal rushed forward to where Gurgle was, slashing with his claws.

[Critical hit! Natural crit! You dealt x3 damage. You dealt 39 damage. Gurgle has perished.]

Pearl leaped to the platform's edge and shot a mana bolt at the fallen Nobble. His HP had to be hanging by a thread, so I wasn’t surprised to hear Crystal’s voice announcing victory.

[You dealt 10 damage. Nobble has perished. Congratulations, you have received 5 death boons.]

I slumped to the ground, exhausted. Technically, the battle had been easier than previous ones with three pets to soak up damage and attack the enemies for me. During the first couple of runs, I felt highly underwhelmed in terms of power. The Young One class was utterly useless, and the Barbarian, while strong, was not worth using, in my opinion, unless I was just using it wrong. And something was off about the fact that all these other classes got two skills and seemingly no penalties, while that class couldn’t even equip chest armor or a helmet. None of the other classes had penalties, and two were so overpowered compared to the others that they weren’t even fair comparisons. Aim was outright busted. Automatic critical hits? Who designs something that way?

The summoner class—able to hit a variety of enemy weaknesses with exceptional damage capabilities and having three physical bodies fighting alongside me—seemed unbeatable. The only drawback was the time limit Crystal mentioned. I still had three more classes to try, but maybe I had gotten lucky with Archer and Summoner being the best ones.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and began looting the room. I sat on the side of the raised platform, kicked at a fallen goblin, and then moved to loot the three other corpses. Immediately, four dice bounced around the platform, splashing into the sewage below. A fifth die joined them shortly after.

[You have rolled a 64 and a 52. You have looted 52 gold from Drip. You have rolled a 22 and received a Goblin ear from Gurgle. You have rolled a 77 and looted a rare chest key from Nobble. You have rolled a 93 and received Slikk's Sewer Pipe of Stun.]

There was still an ornate golden chest by the altar, which was, of course, locked. I immediately used my new chest key to unlock it. As soon as I looted the chest, four dice rolled. I had forgotten that Boss Chests gave extra loot. I felt a surge of excitement at the possibilities.

[You have received a lunar locket. You have received two astral scrolls. You have received a potion of health regeneration.]

“Astral scroll. What does that do?” I asked aloud, curiosity piqued.

[Oh, it's very useful,] Crystal explained. [It will turn a room from day to night and night to day for the duration of a run. So, if you use it at the entrance to the second floor, that entire giant area will be nighttime, potentially providing different quests and options. Just try not to let the temptation to steal get to you. There will be quite a few opportunities, but besides the fact that stealing is wrong, guards will still know it is being used, and we need to avoid a repeat of the previous run. You are very, very lucky you managed to kill that guard. He easily could have aggroed the other guards and taken dozens of your runs from you.]

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Yes, you’ve told me. I definitely don’t want that to happen. Again,” I muttered, the memory still fresh and unpleasant. The memory core fell so fast I couldn’t have dodged it if I wanted to. In an instant, I was whisked away. Whatever force was sending these to me, was clearly done asking.

{Memory core 14/???}

~~~~~{Memory Core 14 Start}~~~~~

The flashback hit me suddenly. One moment, I was talking casually with Crystal, and the next, I was back in my house in the real world. Unlike my other memories, which played out like dreams where I had no control, I was fully aware in this one.

I moved into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Why? Because I knew what was coming, and if I could stop it, maybe I wouldn't die. The kitchen was bare and dirty. Plates with caked food debris lay scattered around the room, and our food cupboard was empty from the fight earlier that morning.

“I’ve apologized ten times already. I don’t know what else you want,” I heard my father’s voice, strained with frustration.

"I want the food back! That was a week's worth of vegetables. Now they're not even good as scraps for a dog," my mother shouted, her voice edged with desperation.

"It was an accident! I know I messed up! I tripped, and the food fell into the waste bucket. I got distracted and placed it in the kitchen before throwing it out. Again, I'm sorry. I'll go down first thing tomorrow," he pleaded.

My parents walked into the kitchen, and that’s when I moved. I thrust the knife straight into my father's eye, knocking him to the floor, dead.

My mother screamed a blood-curdling scream. Then my father exploded. He had been addicted to this drug for years. It was mostly harmless, except for two significant side effects. The first was the typical drug-seeking behavior. The second? The corpse exploded on death. A layer of blood and viscera covered the room, and I retched as I caught a mouthful.

Why had I killed my father? I didn't know how the original memory played out, but it involved Peckolin and the plan he helped me with. Now, I preemptively killed him to save my mother. Except, I stared in horror at the knife jutting out of my mother's stomach as she bled to death. The force of the explosion had caused the knife to bury itself in her stomach.

"Rod? W-Why did you do this? Was I a bad mother? It's so…” Her voice faded as the life left her eyes. I fixated on the blood on my hands. Then the memory reset.

I was back in the kitchen, with empty plates. I grabbed the knife in self-defense. But this time, when my father and mother came into the room, I talked.

“Dad, that’s not what happened this morning, and you know it,” I said, my voice shaking.

“What are you talking about? The waste got all over my clothes and everything. I already put them in to soak,” he replied, confusion and guilt flashing across his face.

"You sold our food for red-essence that you always make me buy."

"Gerald," my mother said, aghast, "is this true?"

"I—no. Yes, it's true. I'm so sorry. I promise tomorrow I'll—" he began, but my mother screamed in rage like a banshee. She charged forward, pushing my father to the ground, and started mercilessly kicking him in the stomach and head until we both heard his neck snap.

I stood still, paralyzed with terror at the scene because I knew this wasn't how my father died. I remembered what I had planned with Peckolin. It didn't happen this way, right? These memories were a lie. All lies! And if these memories couldn’t be trusted, which could I trust?

And that’s when I flashed back to the present.

~~~~~~~{Memory Core 14 End}~~~~~