The cold… it doesn’t go when he stops thinking about the corrupted sanctuary. He hasn’t felt cold before… he hasn’t felt anything, particularly, before.

Why doesn’t it stop?

Hello.

Caau freezes — realistically only his thoughts freeze. They are on only things that move. The voice is hollow, like an ice cube frozen from the outside-in, then emptied of water before it fully turns solid.

Hello?

Ah. We can speak. I’m glad.

Who is speaking?

He looks to the wraith-priestess… she strokes the head of ’Eliza’ adoringly as her multiple other hands drip water into sown ground and thirsty mouth-holes alike. Mostly goblins, the humans still resistant to trust. He’d learnt that Gorakhin is the proper name, and ’goblin’ is more of an insulting way to say it. Like ’vermin’.

Higher.

Caau looks up. The only thing there is the dead moon… blazing white, sweating sweet pure-clear water… and looking at him.

Wait.

Yes. I am not dead… but I certainly will be. Soon.

We can speak!? Do you know what this means!?

I do. I have spent a century alone, slowing carving out my sanctum. Not knowing it was killing me. Alone in my own head. It is... so very nice to speak to another. An equal... one that will experience the same things I have. Do you want some advice… before I go?

Are you sure there is no way to save you? The people here will be gutted. Not that I wanted them here.

He waits for the scathing remark from the Administrator... it does not come.

No. My death is of my own folly. I do not know if my functions are the same as yours, but I doubt you will run into the same issue… not now.

Then why? What happened?

We are creatures that require sustenance. Surprising, isn’t it, given our forms? Energy from the planes is the best… but the innate system energy — that formless, tasteless, neutral energy that gives non-imbued equipment its strength. If you wish to truly grow, you must withhold items. Store them in your Sanctuary as I did in my Sanctum.

Know, however, that this makes you a Dungeon. It will put a target on your back. You have no difficulty rating, nor any nascent attraction. It is why you have not been attacked. At least, I assume? Yet it also means that you are dying. Slowly… But you are dying… and you require many more items of high value to cease from dying.

Caau looks at the pile of weaponry haphazardly stored inside his void-room. Do they contribute?

No. There is a plant… in the natural realm. It releases sweet nectar… in order to capture a greater source of nutrition.

A venus fly trap?

I have never heard of it. But if that what comes to your mind, use that. You are, essentially, that. As you condemn items to become useless nectar… you will attract others, like moths to a flame.

Like flies to rotting meat?

I… suppose?

You started doing this? Then why… are you dying?

That is simple. I did not start soon enough… and then I underestimated two things. One, how many flies would come. Two… how much I needed.

Then, when they come… do I need to kill them? I’m not… I’ll do that, if I need to.

You will. Or find some other way of depriving them from their gear. As you store that, you will attract more… and then more… and then more. Stronger and stronger they will get… bigger and bigger you will grow.

I was not able to hold them off for long. Not with my ailing strength besides. Keep your followers alive. They are your second biggest source of life. I cannot tell you if your status as a Sanctuary changes that... if you perhaps siphon some of the life from people inside... no, ignore a dithering old fool.

Thank you. This has been so much more helpful than you could imagine. Before… I only had one source of information, and it was so annoying!

It doesn’t respond. Caau wonders… if it is dead.

You are a fool. I had nothing when I was born. I waited… and waited… until something stumbled upon me. A wraith with no home. I think… it was too late, even by that point. Do you know what I would give? To have anything? Any hint?

I—

I do not have long enough to hear excuses. Beg, if you can, for the return of your ’annoyance.’ Or resign yourself to much the same fate as I. I feel… that I have only the thinnest blade of knowledge… that there is so much more to know. Do not remain the fool.

I bequeath you the last of my power. I know I can do that… I do not know what it will do.

Say goodbye for me, if you can.

Caau, before, had wondered if it was dead. Now he knows. He doesn’t even ask. He doesn’t need to. The moon’s brightness dims… and swirling lines of dark-blue light glide through the air… into him.

[ Lunar-blood absorbed ]

Options:

Obtain new blessing.

Forge equipment.

Obtain new ability.

Gain compatibility with Lunar Energy.

Create Pseudo-champion.

Oh god damn that’s a lot of options. I need equipment… right? To store it? But what if a new ability allows me to speak!? I can’t miss that chance… but champions seem extremely powerful. What if I had another.

Caau looks — more accurately focuses — on the sky. Where the words in his head normally appear… when the Administrator speaks. He regrets sending her away. Will she… come back?

It’s going to get lonely again… isn’t it?

—

Mekka-mekka, da greatest gobbo!

Mekka-mekka scurry! He goes and he goes! Right back to his nest. The ugly, nasty, stabby goblins are there. The big ones, the mean ones — the thieves!

He raises the [ Sword of the Night Sky ] as high as it’ll go, then cleaves down. The weight drags him forward into the cave. Pale, ethereal light. Screams. Darkness. Arms. Legs. Blood. Gore. Viscera. He soaks in it like it is clearest, warmest waters. It might very well be.

[ 5 kills — +5 INT ]

[ You have advanced to Pathed. ]

[ Choose your Paths? ]

Y

Pick two from below:

Strength Dexterity Vitality Intelligence Wisdom Charisma

Ebb and Flow I

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Block hits, gather ’retribution’, unleash devastating attacks.

Swiftness I

Move fast, gather ’speed’ avoid defences, strike where unexpected.

Resilience I

Take damage to increase 'Tenacity', expend to steal their life. Repeat.

Arcanist I

Manipulate energy, mould ’spells’

Tamer I

Tame creatures, form bonds, ’replace’ your body with theirs.

Persuasive I

Imbue yourself or allies with energy, gather ’Resonance’.

Unyielding Force I

Overwhelm, destroy, slaughter. Never stop, gather ’Momentum’ never falter.

Precision I

Wait for the right moment, gather ’Bide’, then attack, be it close or far.

Then kill.

Resistance I

Take hits, gather ’fortification’, never yield.

Artificer I

Take advantage of energy reactions, create ’artefacts’.

Thinker I

Channel willpower, aid yourself or allies, create ’Strategies’.

Coercive I

Form raw charisma, ’Overtake’ items and creatures.

First pick: [ ATK ]

Mekka-mekka doesn’t know what to do! Only the strongest gobbos see this! And he’s not the strongest gobbo!

He looks at [ Sword of the Night Sky ].

But he could be…?

Would you like some help…?

—

{5 Alerts Pending!}

[ Select items to Consign to Dungeon: ]

Requirements for Difficulty Star 1: ???

Ah. The Administrator could tell me. I bet.

...I’ll just ’Consign’ items one by one.

Inventory Menu Equipment. Consumables. Misc. Common: Femur Axe x 1

Crystalline Sword x 5

Steel Longsword x 1

Basic Armour x 4 Neophyte Tokens x 2

Abyssal Energy Containments x 3 Assorted Goblin Weaponry ( Scrap ) Uncommon: [ Axe of Long Reach ]

[ Hammer of Disposition]

[ Cracked Staff ]

[ Crystalline-edge Dagger ] x 2 N/A Rare: [ Quarterstaff of the Osmara ]

[ Untold Skys ]

[ Hexgun ] N/A Epic:

[ Broken Hearts, Shattered Dreams Platemail ]

[ Unsent Revenge ]

[ Cloak of Hidden Messages ]

N/A Legendary: N/A N/A [ Sanctuary Key ] ???

Caau starts to feed the items, lowest first, into the ’Consignment’, placing them along the wall of the void-room, where they stick to the wall like like a crane-magnet is behind it. After five Common items — the Femur Axe and four of the Crystalline Swords — it finally clicks.

[ Difficulty Rating Level 1 ]

New abilities:

[ Internal Excavation I ]

[ Expanded Awareness I ]

New factors:

[ Attraction I ]

[ Zone of Control I ]

Consign further?

He doesn’t. That’s enough for now. Another alert comes up.

[ You have gained four followers. ]

[ Next threshold reached! ]

You are now: Local Sect

You have gained:

2 Blessing Slots

One Blessing: ’Blessing of Healing’

Faith-abilities have upgraded!

[ Bless I —> II ]

[ Guide I —> II ]

[ Spark I —> II ]

[ Create Simple Guardian I —> II ]

[ Threshold for next upgrade: 12/100 Followers ]

Well I’m a lot closer than I thought I’d—

[ Guardian has ranked up! ][ Guardian has ranked up! ][ Guardian has ranked up! ][ Guardian has ranked up! ]

Onyx:

STR Neophyte.

Choose singular (bound) path?

Quartz:

STR Neophyte.

Choose singular (bound) path?

Sapphire:

DEX Neophyte.

Choose singular (bound) path?

Granite:

VIT Neophyte.

Choose singular (bound) path?

Okay! Okay! This is getting a little much! I get that a lot happened, but I don’t know what half of this means!? Can’t they just pick it?

The Administrator would call him an idiot here. Instead—

Idiot. How could creatures, bound to you, pick it? They aren’t alive.

Caau, dumbly, looks back at the dim moon, and the collected Immortals weeping around it in a circle. Then his brain clicks.

You’re… back?

Of course. It is far too fun to watch you struggle.

I just had to… take care of some business, you see. Nothing you need to worry about. Probably.

I don’t owe you an apology.

No. You don’t. Truth be told, I just wanted to be here when you inevitably fucked up again, so I could insult you. But in those early days, not much was really happening, and it became fun to be counter to everything you did. That’s getting a little old now, but I’m still interesting in documenting, firsthand, what happens.

So you’re stuck with me. I’m sure you love that.

Love might be too strong of a word—

Ah. Scared of commitment. Happens to a lot of guys, and stone obelisks, too.

Fuck off.

Okay.

What?

The Administrator doesn’t speak. Caau’s worry grows in his heart.

Look, I’m sorry! I didn’t—

Didn’t take you long to beg for me back, did it? What was that… a minute?

…

God damn it.

Well, since I’m back, let’s drastically improve your life for a second:

Onyx should take the… Ebb and Flow I Path. Quartz will make a good Arcanist, Granite should go Resilience because he’s bulky enough already. Sapphire might actually be passably fast if she goes Swiftness I.

Oh thank you so much, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. What would I do without you?

Cry a lot, probably.

I’ll give you those for free. You’re… going to need them.

What? What the hell does that mean?

—

Solstice Strauss

It’s time, he thinks. He’s searched far and wide, all through the Immortal Plane levels — at least those he can handle. Missions, jobs, explorations, expeditions… and now it has culminated in this. A realm war. It has taken any semblance of his interest in life.

Why did he do it? Why would he kill his love’s husband?

Why was he so… shameful.

When he could not find Krista… he at least looked for her son. So that he might redeem himself.

Nothing. He’d spent all of his money trying to employ a Thinker to create a strategy for him. Only for that same thinker to discover that he murdered Jonathon.

That was a mistake. But it is now one he must live with. Bare feet echo on the stone walls.

It feels… familiar. Why?

He begins to laugh. Has he finally found it? The nascent sanctuary… the only place the boy could have possibly survived?

He feet take him into a run. It will be a good place to curl up and die. A fitting place, even. To be consumed by the goblins… as he had consigned Jonathon to do so.

Jealousy is a powerful thing, isn’t it? Jonathon was stronger, smarter, braver, tougher. The elation he felt… when he used Jonathon like a stair. It was unreal.

A year has eroded that feeling. Jonathon might have been able to save Krista… or at least the boy. He's failed to do the same. Arden was a good kid. Better than him... by leaps and bounds. It is such a shame the dead do not come back to life.

He rounds a corner that pierces his head with Deja vu… only to come face to face with two large Gorakhin, standing upright rather than the normal hunched-over, snarling posture of the Immortals.

“What are you doing out here? You should be careful! This isn't a place for humans!"

His hand goes to his blade, pulling the long-dagger from its sheathe. Goblins will not stop him from getting to the Sanctuary.

His face grows cold. What if they’ve corrupted it?

Is that… his fault? He could have sold it for a pretty penny… and then more people would have space to live.

It doesn’t matter. It’s time to—

The goblins step past him. Like he’s not a human… like he’s not about to kill them. As they go, they chatter. “I cannot believe the Moonmother wishes us to live amongst humans… they look… so tasty.”

The other claps him on the back of the head. “Fool! Use your head! We get what the humans have! The safety of a sanctuary! And all we have to do is, what, not eat humans? That sounds like a deal to me.”

The talking continues, but it fades into the caves. Strauss’ heart would pound, were it not full of confusion. He takes the way they came, passing through a winding cave until… a wall?

Made of haphazardly carved yet intelligently stacked stone bricks, it closes off the entire wall of the cave — only leaving a small entrance. Humans? Immortals don’t build… they destroy.

A massive man, at least a foot and a half taller than him, exits the entrance, having to squeeze through the stone. Despite the stones being packed together, it is they that move when the man brushes them.

Immediately, the man stops… pausing as he looks at Strauss. It could be… possession? Wraiths managing to steal the intellect of humans, to build? Forcing the body to grow?

That must be it. He crouches low, ready to activate his skills. [ Juke III ] especially, considering the power that must be behind that body.

“Mister Strauss!?” says the man. It is a young voice. It is… Arden’s voice?

Strauss drops the dagger, and thinks one statement:

What the fuck did he eat!?