"How are we going to get the Sphinx up those stairs? Even if the platform goes to the top, that thing has to far exceed its limits. Have you been talking to him this whole time? Did you already tell him yes?" asked G.

"I did. It is boring when you are asleep. I don't think he wants you to take his body, or at least he didn't seem to care about it," said Tocai.

The idea of having a powerful construct to help him with his quests was quite appealing; he just didn't want Tocai to start making agreements without talking to him first. He looked down at that ring again. It was really going to get him killed. He had to resolve the ring's influence on his thoughts. G took a deep breath, "We will discuss this when I'm not exhausted. I need some rest."

G spent a few minutes trying to get comfortable on the stone floor of the small room. The chitin pieces in his shoulders forced him to sit against the chest, his legs up and the robe acting like a makeshift designer chair. That was definitely something he was going to invent, large plush chairs. Pleased with the idea, he was suddenly distracted by the cursed ring on his finger pulsing again. This had to end. The constant nudging of his thoughts into bad to worse plans, even if they worked out sometimes, was going to get him killed or worse, his friends killed.

He studied the ring, pulling the broom handle out to peer through the lens. He could see the ring's power and the curse wrapping around it like a snake eating its own tail, layer after layer. Then he saw something, there at the end of the tail was an end or perhaps a beginning. He stared at it, trying to figure out what it meant as his artificers wild magic surged into his body.

G stood at the foot of the cathedral's grand staircase. He gazed upward at the ethereal version of the Temple of Senses. This spectral rendition shimmered with a translucent quality, its Gothic architecture casting a ghostly silhouette against the dimly lit sky. The spires reached towards the heavens as if trying to touch the very essence of the divine, while the intricate carvings along the walls danced with life, flickering in and out of solidity.

The air around the temple was thick, with a palpable sense of reverence and divinity. Phantasmal figures glided gracefully up the steps and through the massive arched doorway, their forms barely more substantial than a whisper of smoke. These were the ghosts of the past—spiritual guides who had once served the temple during its days of glory. Now, they served a new purpose, escorting lost souls seeking solace within the temple's hallowed halls.

Inside, the cathedral was a vast expanse of columns and arches that echoed with the soft murmur of centuries-old chants. The floors, though appearing solid, had a reflective quality that mirrored the movements of the spectral patrons, blurring the line between reality and reflection. The once vibrant stained glass windows now glowed with a muted, otherworldly light, casting colorful patterns that seemed to float through the air, enveloping the visitors in a warm embrace of colors.

In the central nave, the ghosts of the past moved among the visitors, reaching out to touch the shoulders of those weighed down by grief. Where their hands met the living, a gentle glow appeared, and the air around them shimmered with a soft silver light. The ghosts absorbed the dark hues of sorrow and pain from the visitors' auras, their own forms brightening momentarily before fading back to their serene translucence. This exchange left the visitors visibly lighter, their burdens eased by the compassionate spirits.

At the heart of the temple, beneath the towering central dome, stood a large, luminous ring, similar to the one G wore in reality. Here in this mental construct, it pulsed with a steady, calming light, drawing in those overwhelmed by their emotions. As they approached, the ring's light intensified, reaching out with tendrils of luminescence that wrapped around the visitors, lifting their spirits and soothing their deepest wounds. This sanctuary, a creation of centuries of accumulated empathy and magical energy, offered a profound peace that seemed almost tangible, a testament to the enduring power of Redosiri's legacy and the compassion of Guinidilda, whose presence was felt in every gentle whisper of the wind and each soothing touch of the spectral guides.

G knew of these things. They were just there in his mind as if he had always known them. He stood transfixed at the base of the grand staircase, and the cathedral loomed above him with its ethereal spires reaching towards the heavens. The air was rich with the scent of exotic spices and incense, mingling with the soft whisper of ancient music, creating a tapestry that appealed to all senses simultaneously.

Following the phantasmal figures of the past, G proceeded through the massive arched doorway and into the vast interior, where columns and arches created a labyrinth of shadows and light. His eyes adjusted to the otherworldly glow of the stained glass, its muted colors casting dancing patterns on the marble floor. This sacred space, pulsing with centuries of emotional exchanges, seemed both foreign and oddly familiar.

Navigating through this spectral cathedral, G eventually reached a secluded sanctum at the far end. There, an ethereal figure awaited him, an elven woman of striking beauty, with long flowing white hair and piercing blue eyes clad in robes of deep celestial blue that seemed to ripple with the essence of the temple itself. As she greeted him, the curse from the ring sent a chill up his arm, manifesting as a dark shawl of energy that enveloped her.

"Welcome to the Temple of Sensations," she intoned softly. "I am Guinidilda, the High Priestess. How may I assist you?"

G hesitated, his instincts screaming of the danger hidden beneath her calm demeanor. "I seek knowledge of this ring and this temple," he managed to say, trying to maintain his composure.

Guinidilda's smile widened, taking on a seductive, almost wicked edge. "Of course, but let's first explore the pleasures we offer here."

A wave of desire surged through G, threatening to overwhelm his senses. He stumbled backward, his mind scrambling for a defense. His attempts to invoke his artificer skills were in vain; the magic faltered against the overpowering allure. Yet, amidst his struggle, a pragmatic thought emerged, his past when he was a college student, his near constant worries about making rent, and the need for side gigs. Focusing on these mundane concerns, G found an unexpected anchor. The financial burdens that often weighed him down now served as his shield, cutting through the enchantment and anchoring him back to reality.

As the magical fog lifted, G stood firm, his gaze locked with Guinidilda's. The shawl of cursed energy around her seemed to pulse with a sinister light, but he was now prepared.

G, regaining some semblance of control over his senses, stared incredulously at Guinidilda. "What are you trying to do?" he demanded, his voice tinged with confusion and a hint of anger.

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration passing over her ethereal features. "You're strong. I sense you have mastered some of the ring's power," she acknowledged with a cool, measured tone. "But there are other senses I can manipulate." As she spoke, she began to circle him slowly, her movements graceful yet filled with intent.

G felt his world tilt and shift unnaturally. His balance faltered as if the solid marble beneath him turned to the swaying deck of a ship. His skin tingled unnaturally, every touch of air felt like a brush of ice, and the rich scents of the temple became either overwhelmingly pungent or eerily absent. Tastes of metal and ash filled his mouth, further disorienting him. Despite the sensory onslaught, G clenched his fists, determined to resist her manipulations.

As the disorientation peaked, G's mind desperately searched for an anchor. He found it in the memories of his early college days, specifically his work on artificial intelligence. He recalled the hours spent laboring over language models, his frustrations mounting until he chanced upon a military-grade processor in a Japanese junk electronics shop online, a piece never released to the public but somehow in a collection of junk randomly listed at this tiny shop. With his professor's guidance and the lab's micro-soldering equipment, they had integrated the chip into his steampunk goggles. The design was simple, the brass shell dissipated the heat, and a makeshift cable provided the necessary power due to the battery's limited life.

These goggles were not just an invention; they were the birthplace of his AI, Tocai, which had dramatically improved his gaming skills and ability to engage with his streamer's chat audience. This vivid memory, looping continuously in his mind, began to clear the fog of overwhelming sensations imposed by Guinidilda. It grounded his disorientation.

Guinidilda frowned at G, and with a sudden flicker, like a snuffed-out candle, the elf vanished. G found himself alone in the mystical ambiance of the inner sanctum. He inhaled deeply, the mixed scents of incense and ancient stone grounding him further. The energy of the temple swirled around him, sparking a flurry of questions and possibilities. He had entered the consciousness of the ring, encountering the spirit of the High Priestess, a doppelganger who had once wielded its power. This entity, driven by a desire to manipulate through pleasure and intense sensory distortions, was the same one who had worn the ring for centuries, feeding off the emotional energies of others. Now, standing alone in the echoing sanctum, G pondered his next moves, aware that his journey into the ring's depths was far from over.

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Taking a deep, steadying breath, G considered the priestess's words about his mastery over part of the ring. Could this insight be the key to unraveling its curse? He knew he needed to either overcome the ring's influence or find a way to break the curse binding it. With this thought, G wandered through the sanctum, the space around him cloaked in a surreal fog that made the air thick, and everything was shrouded in mist.

As he explored, G encountered wonders that defied ordinary perception. Pools of effervescent liquid shimmered with an internal light, casting eerie glows on the walls. Devices that pulsed with arcane energy beckoned him, their hums filling the air with a promise of hidden secrets. When he touched a luminous crystal, a jolt of power surged through him, invigorating his senses and heightening his awareness of the magical dream realm he navigated, then the power faded.

Venturing further into the sanctum, G entered a chamber unlike any other he had seen. It was a circular room, completely encircled with mirrors, each reflecting a different facet of himself. As he stepped forward, captivated, he felt the gaze of his many selves upon him. Each mirror presented a distinct version of his persona: one showed him bold and self-assured with a daring smirk; another portrayed him hunched and somber, a visualization of his doubts and fears.

In the third mirror, he saw himself surrounded by piles of gold and jewels, his eyes gleaming with greed. This was his materialistic side, often prioritizing wealth over deeper connections. The fourth mirror displayed him with a cruel smile, standing over subdued figures, his ruthless side that would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. The fifth showed him alone in a barren wasteland, his expression sad and lonely, reflecting his struggles with isolation and connection.

Surrounded by these reflections, G sat down amidst the mirrors, taking a moment to confront the various strands of his personality. He realized that his relentless pursuit of wealth was a mechanism he had used to escape loneliness, a decision that had led him to prioritize streaming over completing college. This complex interplay of ambition and isolation represented a mental knot he had long struggled to untangle.

As he reflected, a memory surfaced, his grandfather's voice saying, "Nobody ever fixed something they weren't unhappy with and couldn't identify." What had once seemed like nonsense now resonated deeply, providing G with clarity and a path forward in unraveling the tangled influences of the ring and his flaws. This newfound understanding sparked a determination within him to confront and reconcile these disparate parts of himself, using the insights gained as a guide to overcoming the ring's curse and finding peace within.

As he reflected on his grandfather's words, G felt a warmth spread through him, lending him strength and belief in his own abilities. He vowed to temper his greed, seeking joy in life's simpler pleasures and appreciating the value of human connections. His ruthlessness, he decided, would be channeled into determination, maintaining his moral ground as the foundation of all his actions. Moreover, he resolved to overcome his loneliness by opening up to others and forging meaningful connections despite his long reliance on his sole friend, Crewton. This commitment to change filled him with a new resolve as he continued his journey through the chamber of mirrors.

With each reflection he passed, the power of the ring seemed to intensify within him, resonating with the changes unfolding in his psyche. As he reached the end of the chamber and stood before the final mirror, a serene calm enveloped him, marking a pivotal moment of inner peace and readiness.

A now familiar voice broke the silence. "Ah, you have found my chamber of mirrors," said Guinidilda, emerging from the mist with a sly smile on her lips. G turned, feeling a twinge of unease. "What is the purpose of this chamber?" he inquired, his voice steady but curious.

Guinidilda walked towards him, her gaze intense and piercing. "The mirrors show you different aspects of yourself," she explained. "The good and the bad, the luminous and the shadowed. Those who can confront their own inner demons and master their desires can gain great power here. A king upon oneself, if you will."

G nodded thoughtfully, absorbing her words. Having already faced and acknowledged his inner demons, he felt a newfound confidence. "What else do I need to do to defeat this curse?" he asked, his gaze returning to the enigmatic final mirror.

Guinidilda's smile widened as she sensed his readiness. "You must face the doppelganger," she revealed. "It is the embodiment of the curse and will test your willpower and strength. But if you can overcome it, you will gain control over the curse and become the master of your own fate."

G faced Guinidilda, knowing this elf was the doppelganger at some level. She embodied the curse that tormented him, now palpably weaker yet formidable. "Where can I find it?" he inquired.

Guinidilda pointed to what was once a mirror but now transformed into a door on the opposite side of the chamber. "Through there," she intoned gravely. "But be warned, elf. The doppelganger is not to be taken lightly. It will test you in ways that you cannot imagine, and it will not hesitate to destroy you if you are not strong enough."

With a nod, G approached the doorway, pausing at the threshold. Beyond, the creature shifted forms rapidly, a blur of possibilities, each more daunting than the last. Stabilizing momentarily, it mirrored G perfectly in his trench coat. Taking a deep breath, G steeled himself and crossed into the room, immediately feeling the surge of conflicting energies.

As he entered, the doppelganger faced him, its eyes ablaze with a supernatural glow. Even from several meters away, G could feel its intent, a palpable force attempting to invade his mind, seeking to overpower his will and take control. But G stood firm, anchored by the recent reflections and realizations about his own character.

The room pulsed with the power of their confrontation, an arena not of physical presence but of mental and emotional resolve. The doppelganger shifted, taking on forms that represented G's deepest desires and fears, power and defeat, companionship and isolation, courage and despair. Each transformation was an attempt to unseat his mental fortress.

G realized that this battle would not be won through physical combat. It was a mental and spiritual test, a battle of wills. The creature attempted to breach his thoughts, to sow doubt and fear. G felt the pressure mounting, a tangible force pushing against his consciousness.

To counter, G focused on the lessons he'd learned in the chamber of mirrors. He conjured memories of his grandfather's wisdom, his recent vow to embrace simplicity, connection, and moral integrity. With each recollection, his resolve hardened, and he pushed back against the doppelganger's intrusions.

As G confronted the relentless assault of the doppelganger, a profound change crystallized within him. Drawing upon the trials he had faced and the truths he had embraced in the mirror chamber, his will surged with power. He became like a steadfast lighthouse perched on a rugged coastline, standing resolute against the relentless waves of cursed energy that crashed against him.

Each wave of doubt and fear sent by the doppelganger was met with the unyielding beacon of G's fortified resolve. The memories of his grandfather's teachings and his commitment to a life grounded in real connections and moral clarity acted as the light cutting through the fog of manipulation. This light not only illuminated his path but also repelled the murky shadows cast by the doppelganger.

The air around him thrummed with the clash of energies, the cursed darkness seeking to erode his spirit countered by the brilliant pulse of his steadfast resolve. With every surge of the doppelganger's power, G's mental fortitude shone brighter, his internal strength anchoring him firmly in the face of this metaphysical tempest.

In this vivid tableau of mental struggle, G stood not merely as a figure of resistance but as a symbol of enduring strength and clarity. The more the doppelganger thrashed against his defenses, the more pronounced his resolve became, each wave of cursed energy only serving to reinforce his stature as a lighthouse withstanding the storm, guiding himself and potentially others toward safety and mastery over their fates.

G came to a realization then, recalling another piece of wisdom his grandfather had shared: "Desire is the fuel that drives a man's ambitions, but his will determines his success." He deeply missed that old man's smile right then, and G's smile matched that of his grandfather's memory.

With renewed determination, G confronted the cursed magic. He declared firmly, "No longer will you use my feelings or desires against me. I am the master of my fate; you will serve my will. I do not serve yours."

The creature calmed, now mirroring the elven priestess he had first encountered upon entering, looked G in the eye. She tilted her head in acceptance and smiled at him. The shawl of cursed mana that had once clung to her shoulders was gone.

Suddenly, G found himself back in the small room, sitting on the floor against the chest. He blinked a few times, the dreamlike reality of the ring fading from his mind. Looking down at the ring, he willed it to remove itself as he pulled. It slid off easily into his hand. He felt changed, having conquered both the curse and the ring.

G slipped the ring back on, noting its strange magical presence. He mentally instructed it, "You will no longer work to skew my perception of dangers, nor will you allow yours or any other magic to influence my judgment of those around me." The ring didn't respond, but G could sense its reluctant acceptance of his command as it pulsed once.

Tocai's voice came to him, "What did you just do? What was that? "

G smiled, so wholly exhausted he could hardly keep his eyes open. "It was just me making things right. " then he drifted off.

He awoke to Tocai talking, "G, get up. The Guardian is ready when you are. He says there has been a change, and many creatures are now at the door in the sewers. "

"Ahh crap, yea, he took in the small room again. There was nothing left in here other than the stone table and the chest, which was now painfully giving him a neck cramp where he leaned. He stood up, and opened the cabinet door.

"Come on, Bitsy. We have to go," G called, urgency in his voice as he sprinted down the spiraling staircase. He took the steps three at a time, the stairway curling tightly around the outer wall of the forge chamber. The clatter of his boots echoed off the stone walls, punctuating each leap and bound as he descended. Dust motes danced in the air, stirred into whirls by his rapid passage. With each turn, the spiral seemed to stretch endlessly downwards, a dizzying, helical path to their urgent meeting with the Sphinx waiting beyond in his chamber.