- But we both know that’s not what happened.
Aaaaah, I did it again! I got you, I got you! Haha!
Sorry guy, you know I couldn’t resist. I wanted you to think I was cool, okay? I try really hard to impress people. I’m not sure why though, I just kind of feel like I need to. I didn’t lie entirely this time though. I’m still down here, still in the ice, still in this body. I’m not floating. I just didn’t charge at the thing that reaches, like some kind of deranged lunatic hero. Do you think I’m crazy? I’m not going out like that. I can’t finish my work if I have no eyes. And there’s still so much BEFOULED work left to do!
Turning my head back to look at the dungeon-master’s flailing legs, kicking out of the hole, I grab the back of my lance and I jam them in through the small gap. A second later there is a dull thud and an annoyed shouting on the other side. Wet meat sloshes and squirms as the thing that reaches comes closer, as it lurches, as it encroaches. Lifting my lance I strike at the hole myself, chipping the regrowing ice away.
It sloshes, coming closer now. Closer. Closer. And my lance strikes out again and again, hacking at the wall in front of me, ripping the hole further apart with brute force. Wet crystal fragments fly all around as I bash against the hole, widening it further as the thing comes closer. Closer. Closer. As the befouled stench of the rotting worm reaches me, as the wet slapping of the tendrils writhes out against the walls and the floors, sensing each vibration of the strike of my lance. Sensing each vibration of the strike of my heart. It’s not a real heart obviously, I don’t have a real one. I was just waxing poetic, you know me.
The lance cracks against the ice again and a large chunk flies off, smashing to the ground. The encroacher is now only meters away and squirms, pressing itself into the tiny gap of the tunnel, forcing itself into the dead-end passage with its meaty, boneless body that consists of nothing but pale flesh and goo.
Placing a hand on the hole, I dive in. Wet tendrils slap around myself as they reach for me, as they reach for my eyes.
Something squeaks in terror as I thud against the ground on the other side. Wet tendrils slap against the ice, reaching in through the hole, reaching in for us. But they can’t reach, they can’t reach. I look down, pressing my heavy armor off of the dazed dungeon-master who I might have squished a little. Scrambling forward, I grab the dungeon-master by the collar and slide them away. The ice on the floor cracking as it snaps free from their body, having already begun to grow around them.
Rising up, I lift them with a hand and look back to the hole that is growing shut more and more by the second. A single tendril whips through, smashing against the ice in a rage as it reaches.
Narrowing my eyes, I lift the blade of the lance and swipe, slashing at the reaching thing. The blade meets the meat and it lurches, writhing and pulling back, just as the hole grows closed shut.
There’s only one other thing I wasn’t lying to you about, guy.
“It took you long enough,” says a dry, old voice from behind us. I turn my head and look over to Nichodemus, sitting alone on a cloud of air. The only other physical entity in the room apart from me and the dungeon-master. Obviously you and eyeyoume don’t count, guy. It’s nothing personal, it just is what it is.
“Nichodemus.”
The dungeon-master wipes off their tear-covered face and flails in my arms. “Put me down, you goon!” A foot kicks my breastplate and I happily oblige. Now that there’s someone here again who isn’t me, the dungeon-master has to keep up their tough act. That’s okay. I understand. They just want to have people be impressed by them. It’s kind of like what I was doing.
I drop the bare-footed dungeon-master down onto the ice and they yelp, dancing around from foot to foot as it begins to sting the soles of their feet. I turn back to Nichodemus who stares at me and I stare at him.
“You!” The dungeon-master points to Nichodemus, dancing from one foot to the other. “I don’t know how you’re still alive, but this is your fault!” The dungeon-master slams a fist against the metal plating of my leg. “You started this whole mess! I should have never let you purple fucks down here!”
Nichodemus snaps his fingers and a cloud of air lifts the dungeon-master off of the ice. I pull my legs up, breaking off the ice that is regrowing around my boots and simply opt to pace back and forth. Apparently I don’t get a cloud of my own.
“It’ll be fiiine, you said. We won’t cause any trouble, you said. It’ll be a great plot-line you said.” The dungeon-master points towards Nichodemus. “Well fuck you! Because of you dumb-purple-shits, I have a literal hero in my time-holed dungeon and even worse, this squirmy, degenerate fuck chained to my ass!”
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I turn to look back at the dungeon-master, wondering who they mean. But then I see the finger pointing towards me. Oh.
A metal hand awkwardly rubs the back of my neck. “I like spending time with you, mom.”
“I’M NOT YOUR MOM, YOU CREEP!” yells the dungeon-master in exasperation, turning back to Nichodemus. “Look! Talk some sense into this walking pile of complexes already! Though actually… fuck it! Right?! We’re dead! We’re literally dead!”
The dungeon-master screams, clutching at their face.
I shrug. “We’re not dead yet.”
The dungeon-master gestures around themselves. “This is it, you shit-head! There’s no way out of the pit! We’re fucked!”
I walk towards the dungeon-master with open arms. “Do you want a hug?”
“If we ever get out of here…” threatens the dungeon-master, pointing a shaking finger at me. I’m pretty sure they aren’t agreeing to my offer.
I look around the empty space and then back to Nichodemus. “Is… is anyone else down here?”
He looks at me for a time and then shakes his head. “There’s no one here but me.”
My eyes drift as I return to my pacing. “There’s no one here but me, huh?”
“I don’t approve of the situation or of your…” it’s hard to say that Nichodemus is narrowing his eyes in annoyance, since he just has a skull. But I’m pretty sure he’s narrowing his eyes. “- physique.”
I hold my arm out, looking down the metal gauntlet. “Pretty snazzy, right? The dungeon really wants to get rid of me. It’s messing all sorts of stuff up.”
“I can’t blame it. Don’t get your stench on the armor. It’s too good for you.”
I lean over, placing my face in front of Nichodemus’. “I was a lizard once, you know?”
He tilts his head.
“I… see.”
I roll my eyes. He sees. But he doesn’t see. It’s so hard to find someone with a good pair of eyes these days. Still…
“What happened to her?” I ask, looking at the flash of green light in his hollow sockets.
He tilts his head, as if wondering what I mean, but then he shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Did it get her?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he replies.
“She’s not up in the dungeon,” I say.
“She’s not down here,” says Nichodemus. Damn it.
“Did you see a book down here?”
“I wish.”
My head droops. I was really hoping they were here. That was actually kind of what this was all for, a long sigh escapes me and I return to keep pacing.
“What the fuck are you two idiots talking about?!” asks the dungeon-master in exasperation.
“BMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM,” I hum loudly to the dungeon-master, explaining the conversation in intricate detail. They just stare at me, their eyebrows twitching in agitation. I really wish they’d work on their anger issues. It’s hard, having an authority figure with a temper and a drinking problem, you know? You know?
Yeah, you know.
“So?” I ask Nichodemus.
“So what?” he asks me.
“You know. So?” I repeat, emphasizing my point.
“…So what?” he asks me in annoyance, apparently not getting it. I don’t think either of them really like me, which hurts a little, but I’m used to it. At least I have you and eyeyoume, guy.
“Can you get us out of here?” I ask.
“If I could, I would have left myself.” He rolls his eyes. “Idiot.”
“But what about that one time?” I wonder.
The floating man shrugs. “Those were different circumstances and I had to stop it from taking your eyes.”
“Different circumstances? What does that mean?”
“The barriers between the dungeon and this plane were lessened, as they occasionally do, as the corruption spreads during high-magic fluctuations. The encroacher sensed you and it came for you through a gap. So I simply followed.”
“So it opened the way out? Why does it want me though?”
“I assume it has a taste for your eyes,” he taps his head. “Or maybe it just dislikes you like the rest of us.”
“Oh…” I say. It’s disgusting, but at least somebody in this dungeon has some taste. The eye part I mean. I stop, looking around. My eyes widen as I approach the dungeon-master who has just about finished crying and I lift them up beneath their arms.
“LET ME GO, YOU SHITHEAD!”
“What about this?” I ask Nichodemus, holding out the dungeon-master towards him. After all, the dungeon-master is the source of dungeon-magic. It’s why I brought them.
He tilts his head, thinking, a finger tapping against his bony chin. “It could work… but -”
“Listen you bony fucks! If you have a way to get me out of here, then you better fucking do it!” yells the dungeon-master, kicking and flailing.
“What’s the weakest quadrant right now?” asks Nichodemus. The dungeon-master stops squirming and thinks for a second, looking up to the icy ceiling above.
“Fuck… uh…” They wave a hand. “We cut off everything below ninety-seven. So…” They think for a second. “Probably ninety-seven, three-two-two?”
I obviously have no idea what they’re talking about, guy.
Nichodemus thinks. “We can try constructing a side-route, but…” He looks back to the dungeon-master. “There might be some… damages.”
The dungeon-master cries in exasperation. “It’s all FUCKED anyways! If this nightmare ever ends, I’ll have to rebuild EVERYTHING! From scratch! So fuck it! What’s one more floor?! Get me out of here you dress-wearing fuck!” They turn their head around to glare at me. “Let’s leave this shit-head here.” I frown.
“That would be inadvisable.”
The dungeon-master groans. “Fiiine! Whatever! Let’s just do it!”
Nodding, Nichodemus gets up, straightening his cuffs and robe and spreads his arms wide. Magic energies channel out from his sleeves, coalescing around the tips of his fingers.
Doing the same, the dungeon-master lifts their arms and I watch as a strange aura drifts out from their hands. It’s not like the magical energies of a caster, rather, it’s a vague misty substance. Like smoke from the end of a pipe, like the dewy breath that releases when you exhale on a cold spring morning. Dungeon-magic.
Their essences meet in the center and my eyes go wide as I see. As I see the blinding flash of light that shines around the cavernous, icy room. The bright rays reflecting off of the sheen surfaces in all directions, filling the space with a glow so bright. With an energy so intense, so warm, so hot. As if we were standing in the center of the sun. As if-
The ice growing up my boots cracks as the energy from the sphere pushes me back a step and I brace my posture, pushing myself forward against the flow.
- As if we were standing on the apex of the world, watching the sun rise before ourselves. It shines like the eye of a hunter at midnight. I see. I see. I SEE!
The world rattles in a thunderous crack, the entire room splintering all at once as the shock-wave bounces off from wall to wall. Chunks of ice fall down as the space begins to cave from the immense pressure of their combined magics. It’s loud. It’s loud. Like a scream. Like the dungeon itself was screaming in agony. A voice fills me. A clawing voice that digs into my bones, that digs through the marrow like burrowing worms. My body spasms as it washes over me, as it washes through me.
A moment later everything is silent. Everything is dark.
A new dim light begins to glow, as I raise my gaze, as I look towards the spot between me and Nichodemus, who is coming around the new obstruction.
As I look up the new staircase, made entirely out of ice, that stretches further and further up into the darkness above. A new staircase that reaches up, back towards the dungeon.