Ethan felt his heart thud as they stepped into the yawning entrance of the Nerve Tower. His senses screamed at him. The air was thick with magic, almost alive, pressing down on him like a predator lurking just beyond sight. Everything about this place felt wrong, like it wasn’t a building but some living thing waiting to devour them. His five eyes flickered in the dim light, scanning the vast, pulsing walls. They weren’t alone here.
"Stay close," he muttered to Klax, Tara, and Fauna. His voice was tight, and his hands gripped the hilt of his Mithril Scythe as though it was the only real thing in the room.
Suddenly, a blinding light shot through the air, searing across his vision. Ethan threw up a hand to shield himself as the world seemed to split open.
DELVE CHALLENGE: ACTIVATED
MEMORY PRISM
"What the hell does that mean?" Ethan shouted, but before anyone could answer, Klax, Fauna, and Tara were gone. His entire world blinked out of existence.
PARTY SEPARATION...IN PROGRESS.
Ethan...Sys said - in a voice that was becoming more and more faint by the second - Whatever happens, don't forge-
Ethan blinked once, then twice.
And after the second blink, the world of Argwyll melted away.
Stale, fluorescent lights overhead buzzed, filling his ears with their droning hum. He squinted at the harsh light, wincing as he rubbed his tired eyes. In front of him was a computer screen, its cold blue light illuminating rows upon rows of numbers and financial projections. His fingers tapped the keyboard methodically, almost mechanically, as though they had never stopped.
An email pinged in the corner of his screen.
To: Ethan Hawke
From: Brian Reynolds, Senior Tax Manager
Subject: Meeting Reminder
Ethan froze, his breath catching in his throat.
What...the hell?
His heart pounded as he leaned back in his chair, staring at the email. The smell of burnt coffee and the hum of printers filled the air—familiar, suffocating, like a heavy blanket wrapped around his chest. He glanced down at his hands, pale and human. Five fingers. No scythe. No claws. Just regular, mundane fingers tapping away at a keyboard.
Around him, the chatter of coworkers filled the office. Phones rang. Printers spat out paper after paper. His cubicle stretched out in front of him like a prison, the walls beige and sterile. There was nothing here. No battle. No monsters. Just spreadsheets and emails.
His stomach churned.
The adventure in Argwyll... had that all been a dream?
He blinked hard, trying to reset himself, to make sense of what was happening. He reached up to rub his eyes, but when he opened them again, he was still there. Still in the office. Still trapped in the same, monotonous life. This had to be some kind of delusion, right? Maybe he’d just fallen asleep at his desk again.
Ethan shook his head and glanced at the clock on his screen. Ten minutes until his next meeting. Ten minutes until he had to sit in a room and listen to his boss drone on about client projections, revenue reports, and tax filings.
He hated meetings.
With a sigh, Ethan turned back to his screen, fingers tapping at the keyboard, scrolling through endless numbers. Every second that passed felt like a year. He could feel the dull ache building behind his eyes, the pressure of his own life bearing down on him again. It was suffocating. The same suffocating pressure he had felt every day before…
Before what?
Before Argwyll.
His chest tightened as he remembered the feeling of wind rushing past him as he charged into battle. The thrill of summoning his powers. The weight of the scythe in his hands. The laughter of his companions. The feeling of actually making a difference in a world where everything mattered.
It was impossible.
Had it all been a dream?
“Ethan,” came a sharp voice from behind him.
He turned to see Brian Reynolds, his boss, standing in the doorway of his cubicle. The man’s suit was pressed perfectly, not a wrinkle in sight. His hair was slicked back, his grin smug, and his eyes condescending. Everything about him made Ethan’s skin crawl.
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“Don’t forget the meeting in fifteen minutes,” Brian said, his voice dripping with superiority. “Client’s been on our backs all month. We need those projections—today.”
“Yeah, I got it,” Ethan muttered, turning back to his screen. He felt sick. Everything about this place felt wrong, even though it was so familiar.
Brian narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think you understand the pressure we’re under here, Ethan. This is your job. People are counting on you.”
Ethan’s stomach twisted. The words stung in a way they hadn’t before. Counting on you. He’d heard that before in Argwyll. From Klax, from Tara, from Fauna. The people who had fought beside him trusted him with their lives. They counted on him.
“Yeah,” Ethan said again, barely hearing his own voice. “I got it.”
Brian walked off, leaving Ethan alone in his cubicle. He stared at the screen in front of him, the numbers blurring together, the hum of the office growing louder and louder until it felt like it was vibrating in his skull.
This is your life. This is stability. No war, no fighting. No one depends on you for anything but this. Just do what you’re told.
It’s safe here.
No monsters. No chaos. No fear.
Ethan’s fingers trembled as they hovered over the keyboard. His vision swam, the words on the screen blurring as his mind raced.
Argwyll had been real. He knew it. It had to be. The rush of the Delves, the thrill of fighting, the bonds he had formed with Klax, Tara, and Fauna—it had felt more real than this sterile, suffocating life.
But the thought gnawed at him: Wasn’t this safer? Easier?
He glanced down at his desk, his eyes falling on a pen lying there. Before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed it and jammed the tip into his fingertip, hard enough to draw blood.
The sharp pain shot through him, and for a brief moment, everything snapped into focus. Blood welled up from the tiny wound, a single drop sliding down his finger and staining the paper on his desk.
He felt the pain. This was real. He was here.
And yet…
His eyes fell to his other hand, still clutching the pen, and something glinted between his fingers. Something that didn’t belong here. Ethan opened his hand, revealing a small object.
It was the Memory Rune.
The intricate silvery threads glowed faintly, shimmering in the sterile office light. It was the same Memory Rune that Lamphrey had given him before they entered the City of Illusions.
He blinked, his heart pounding in his chest. This couldn’t be real. None of this could be real. The office, the numbers, the meetings. This wasn’t who he was anymore.
"I want it all. Even the shit stuff," Ethan whispered, his voice shaky but determined. His grip tightened on the Memory Rune as the images of Fauna singing karaoke at Klax’s party blazed bright in his mind and forced a smile to his face. "Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven."
As soon as the words left his lips, the world around him began to twist and warp. The cubicles shimmered like heat waves, the buzzing of the office lights growing louder and more distorted. The walls around him began to melt away, revealing a void of shimmering darkness.
And then, standing in the middle of that void, was a figure.
It was him.
Or at least, it looked like him. The figure had Ethan’s face, his build, his posture. But the eyes were empty, cold, devoid of any humanity. It moved with an unnatural grace, stepping toward him with a predatory air, hands reaching out toward his throat.
Appraisal: Complete!
Spirit: Nervestalker
HP: 10/10
Ethan barely had time to react. The figure lunged, its fingers extended like talons. He raised his scythe just in time, the blade catching the creature’s arm with a metallic clang. The force of the blow sent Ethan stumbling back, his heart racing as the creature advanced again, relentless.
“Get the fuck away from me!” Ethan growled, swinging his scythe in a wide arc.
The Nervestalker dodged, its movements fluid and unnatural. It circled him, eyes locked on his every move, waiting for an opening. Ethan gritted his teeth, his grip tightening on the scythe as he prepared for the next attack.
The creature lunged again, faster this time. Ethan ducked, rolling to the side just as the Nervestalker’s fingers grazed his throat. He swung his scythe upward, catching the creature in the side. It staggered, but only for a moment.
“You think I’m afraid of my past?” he asked the reeling creature. “Let me give you your answer.”
He brought the scythe down with all his strength, channeling a Twilight Edge into his attack for good measure – more to add insult to injury than anything else. The blade sliced clean through the creature’s neck, sending its head tumbling to the ground. The body stood for a moment longer, then collapsed in a heap of black smoke.
He hoped the insidious little thing felt that.
500 Spirit Cores Gained
Ethan stood there, panting, his heart hammering in his chest. The void around him began to dissolve, the darkness giving way to the familiar walls of the Nerve Tower. He blinked, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the weight of the battle slowly lifted.
He had made it out.
But he was moving. The Tower wasn’t through playing its little tricks yet. He felt the ground of his old office-space give out from under him, and had just enough presence of mind to upgrade:
Summon Mana Veil (Grade E->D)
You create a dense layer of fog 50 ft wide. Any targets within this fog must pass an Intelligence Check (INT: 30+) or be {Silenced} for the duration they remain within the fog.
{Silenced} targets cannot cast spells.
Grade D Upgrade: INT check increased to 50+
Spirit Cores required to upgrade further: 500
Upgrade…complete!
Spirit Cores remaining: 150
He’d gotten the sense that this little Nervestalker was the one summoning up the illusions in this place, and there were probably a whole brood of them out there, feasting on the minds of any Delvers who were trying to reach the apex of their tower. But they were spellcasters, of that, Ethan was certain.
They could play their little tricks. Ethan had his own up his sleeve.
Suddenly, the air around him shifted again, the familiar sensation of magic warping reality pulling him under. The tower, the stone, the cold—everything vanished in an instant, replaced by something softer, something warmer.
Flowers, trees, a meadow.
Ethan blinked, disoriented by the sudden change. He stood in a field, the smell of fresh blossoms filling the air. The sun shone brightly overhead, birds chirped in the distance, and the gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees surrounding the meadow.
But this wasn’t his dream.
And as his eyes blinked through the haze of the Nerve Tower’s illusory veil, he saw a familiar figure sitting down to dinner with their family.
“Fauna?”