There’s a lot of screaming going on, honestly. I don’t really have the nerves for it. I wish everyone would be quiet. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that there are people around myself and that they’re making noise. It’s almost like they’re talking to me, guy!

Almost.

Not all of the screams are for me. Some of them are for the priestess though.

Stepping over the gurgling masses of meat down at my feet, I lift my head, looking past the nervous adventurers all around, as my gaze meets my very favorite people, the hero-party, who haven’t moved a single step away from the dungeon-gate.

Well, the hero hasn’t at least. You’d think he would have joined in on the fight, but nope. The monk is just there restraining the wizard, arm-barring her from behind as she screams and flails. But it’s not because of me. Not because of me directly at least.

A warm breeze blows past my back, billowing my cape up into the air past my right arm. Turning my head, I look back at the priestess who stands behind myself in the far distance, the light around her frail body dying down to a weak glow as the magic of her spell fades. Why are you helping me, priestess? You’re on the wrong side of the fight. Why would you hurt your friends like that? Look at them. You made them cry. That’s not very nice. I mean, thank you, but I’d really prefer it if we could all just be friends, all of us together. If you have to choose sides, don’t choose mine, okay? I’m kind of a jerk.

I turn back towards the hero-party, towards their confused, contorted faces. They look so hurt. I feel so bad for them. Why did you do that to them, priestess? For me? I’m not worth it, you really shouldn’t have. Do you think she likes me, guy? I don’t understand it otherwise. Why would the priestess of the hero-party help resurrect me? I don’t think that she likes me. Nobody can like me. So there must be something else going on. But I guess it’s just above my pay-grade to understand, I’m just a little trash-mob who lives at the bottom of the dungeon.

My boot locks into the stones, twisting to the side as I hold my stance, about twenty steps away from the hero-party. About twenty steps away from the passage out to the outside world, from the gate that will lead me from the bardo. I want to leave. I really want to leave. I’m near the end of the duration of my stay, my time is running out and I need to leave.

I gaze around at the many faces staring my way as the screams behind myself fall quiet, the last of the air leaving their lungs. I’m still a little mad about that, guy. I mean, thanks for giving me control of my body back, but could you not do that again? It felt very inconsiderate of my feelings, tell you what. We really hurt those people. You know that that’s not what we do. We’re the good guys, remember?

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Huh? What’s that? They’re going to respawn tomorrow anyways?

I scratch my head. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But… wait. Aren’t we leaving the dungeon? Are they still going to respawn then?

They will?

Oh, thanks guy, that’s reassuring to hear! I know you wouldn’t lie to me. I was kind of worried there for a moment that we actually killed-killed some people, haha, you know I don’t want to do that. I want everyone to be happy and to get out of the dungeon. Nobody who doesn’t want to be down here should have to be down here anymore.

Aaaah, I feel so much better now. That’s a weight off of my shoulders. I wonder, when she respawns, do you think I can ask that elf where she got those earrings? I bet the dungeon-master would love them on me!

I crack my neck, lifting my gaze towards the hero as I feel a bit rejuvenated in spirit and character now. Sometimes, I just need a pep-talk, you know? My arm ripples out, as the energy that you absorb from the ambient dungeon-magic shoots through me like a crack of rejuvenating electricity. Right. Enough blabbering for now. Let’s get this show on the road, guy, everyone is watching us.

Stepping forward a step, I swing my lance down to my side, pointing the tip of the blade towards the hero, black-water dripping down its nicked edge. My free hand behind myself, as I challenge him to a duel.

Might as well make it official, right? Humans have weird rules about this stuff, the least I can do is come their way a little.

The room is quiet as all eyes turn towards him, leaving me for a moment. I don’t like the feeling. Look back at me! I’m over here! Stop looking at him! I look so cool! Don’t I?!

He steps forward, pulling the sword from his sheath as he nods to me once. Ah, hero, you’re the best! I knew I could count on you at least!

One of the clerics grabs his shoulder, stopping him as he moves forward, saying something in human language to him. He turns his head, saying something back to them with a resolute look in his eyes, the morning sunlight of the world beyond reflecting off of his pristine armor. AH! He’s so cool! I bet they were saying something like - ‘Noooo, hero, don’t gooo, we need you~!’ My fingers grasp the bottom of my eye socket, wrapping themselves around the inside of my skull as I can barely contain my excitement. I bob up and down. Then. Then. Then! I bet he was like, in a really cool, gruff voice. ‘The hero that you need was inside of you all along.’ Or something like that.

He turns back towards me, his cape billowing behind him, obscuring the worried face of the cleric for a moment as their fingers continue to reach after him as he walks my way, the light of the world washing over his back, the light of a dozen eyes, washing over his back.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

I’M SO JEALOUS! Why can’t I have people like that who are worried about me? Why can’t I be cool like the hero? Why am I standing here alone in the middle of the room, while there are a clean dozen on the other side against me, standing side by side, all of them watching him with worried eyes. With caring eyes. WHY?! WHY?!

I step forward, lurching into a dash. What does he have that I don’t have?!

Metal meets metal, as his sword and my lance strike against each other once again, the sound ringing out aloud, reverberating through the entire dungeon like the song of a mourning bell and as it shines out, piercing the heavy miasma of the underground, the sound vanishes beneath the rumbling that comes from the distant staircase behind myself.