James was not having a good time: he was being chased by a hoard of angry slagpions; his rocket boots were running low on fuel; every part of his body ached from the repeated explosions and following impacts that accompanied each jump. All he had wanted to do was fool some natives, make a quick profit, and exit the dungeon without the natives discovering his scheme. If only reptilians hadn’t showed up to ruin his scheme, then the slagpions would be worshipping him instead of trying to catch him. He wasn’t sure what they’d do to him once they got their truck-like paws on him, but he didn’t want to find out.
James gritted his teeth as he glanced down at his rocket boots. He only had a few jumps left, but he hadn’t lost the hoard of slagpions. Some of them couldn’t keep up, but the majority of the lava beasts had no problem following him. They bulldozed through whatever obstacles were in their way, running over uneven ground and swimming across pools of lava as if marathons were what they lived for. James thought it was a bit ridiculous for such large creatures to expend so much energy hunting him, a tiny, basically zero-calorie treat, but he didn’t know if slagpions even got tired in the first place.
A sigh escaped from James’ mouth as he braced himself and activated his rocket boots once more, the ground exploding beneath his feet as he shot into the air. He looked back and below, frowning at the sight of the slagpions chasing after him like a stampede of animals escaping from a wildfire. All he did was pretend to be an angel and swindle them of their ores, which he didn’t even take! So, why were they treating him like he murdered their parents, children, and unborn babies?
Since James was looking down at the slagpions, he couldn’t see what was ahead of him. He didn’t think he’d have to check because, after all, he was flying, and he hadn’t spotted anything in the air the whole time he was being chased. That’s why, he didn’t see what he collided against, but it was hard, and it felt like he had hit the ground. James grunted and turned his head, and his eyes nearly popped out of his sockets as he let out a shriek. Staring right at him, there was a large praying mantis, and its mandibles, curved like scythes, were positioned on either side of his neck.
The lower half of the massive insect’s face split open horizontally as it opened its jaws, breathing the scent of … mint … into James’ face, the pleasant and cool smell sending the man into a daze. The praying mantis let out a sound akin to a field of crickets chirping, but James understood what it was conveying. “Human,” the bug said. “Why are you fleeing from the slagpions?”
“Because I’m fragile,” James said. “If they run over me, I’ll die.”
“That is not what I meant,” the praying mantis said. “Why are the slagpions chasing you? What did you do to enrage them?”
James swallowed. The insect’s compound eyes were larger than baseballs, and their texture unsettled him—mostly because they were hairy. Should he tell the truth? Obviously not; if the mantid discovered he broke Oterra’s rules, those mandibles around his neck would clamp down, and he didn’t want to test his talent against a mantid’s blades. They were known for being born with their solar plexus chakras unlocked, and their attacks transcended common sense.
“I’ll tell you everything,” James said. “I was exploring on my own, and I bumped into a group of reptilians who were fooling these slagpions into gathering wealth for them. I tried to convince the slagpions they were being taken advantage of, but they trusted the reptilians over me, and now they’re chasing me because of the reptilians.”
“Reptilians?” the large praying mantis asked. “There are reptilians in this dungeon messing with the natives?”
“Yes,” James said, bobbing his head up and down. “Absolutely.”
The praying mantis stared into James’ eyes without moving. For a few seconds, James thought his surroundings had frozen, but the rumbling of the slagpions snapped him out of his daze. “I swear,” he said. “If you in the direction where the slagpions came from, there’s a giant pyramid. That’s where the reptilians are or were.”
“The pyramid,” the praying mantis said and turned its head to the side.
“Yeah,” James said. “You might still be able to see it from here if you fly high enough.”
The mantid stared off into the distance, the sound of its beating wings overriding the rumbling of the slagpions below. After a few seconds, the mantid tossed James aside as if it were flicking a booger off its finger—fingers it didn’t have. However, underneath its arms which had two pairs of scythes on the ends, there was another pair of arms with three appendages similar to fingers on their ends. James cursed as he flew through the air, tumbling and waving his arms to orient himself for a proper landing—as proper as one could get for being tossed aside like a sack of potatoes. He swore he heard the mantid cursing as well, buzzing about a stolen carnelian or something.
James swore to himself he’d unlock his Sahasrara next. Invisibility was simply too handy. If he could turn invisible, reptilians and mantids might still spot him, but the slagpions would lose track of him. Instead, James had to use his rocket boots once more to distance himself from the slagpion swarm, wishing he had Kerry’s talent instead. As for what the mantid was going to do to the reptilians, James didn’t care; after all, it was the reptilians that ruined the good thing he had going on.
As for the unjustly framed reptilians, they were lying on top of each other, engaged in mortal combat, but their bodies were frozen as if they were statues. Sweat rolled down Sam’s forehead before sliding along the twin-headed snake’s body down his face. The orange sloth wrapped around Sam’s waist let out an exhalation as if it was exasperated at Sam for stopping the fight. It was hard to tell because the sloth took forever to breathe out.
Sam continued to maintain his use of Toughen while focusing on maintaining the connection he had formed with the reptilians and two humans. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be able to affect the minds of so many reptilians at once, but they weren’t in the right headspace. They were enraged, frustrated, and upset, and although it was hard to wrangle them, they didn’t instantly break free. As he kept the reptilians under his control, he communicated with the sloth, asking it to stop messing with people’s emotions. Of course, he had to keep focused for a while until the sloth’s response finally came back.
If Sam didn’t want it to let out low vibrations, and if he didn’t want it to let out high vibrations, what exactly did he want it to do?
Sam communicated with Joe, saying he’d prefer for the sloth not to emit any vibrations at all.
After a few minutes, the sloth countered by saying it could do that, but that was the same thing as asking it to die, and if it died, everyone in the vicinity would die with it. Was Sam sure he wanted Joe to stop emitting vibrations?
Cold sweat broke out on Sam’s back as he took back his request. He was trying to save everyone, not have them killed. It was a tense few minutes of waiting until the sloth gave its reply, saying it wouldn’t kill itself. Sam observed the reptilians’ and humans’ expressions with his All-Seeing Gaze. Then, he asked if the sloth could emit a healing vibration, one that’d patch up all the injuries the reptilians and humans had obtained while brawling.
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The sloth took its sweet time replying, the sweat leaving Sam’s body having formed a small puddle by his feet. His head was hurting, and his muscles were sore despite him simply standing there; the heat from the dungeon was wearing him down. The sloth could, in fact, produce healing vibrations, but it had to be in a happy mood.
For some reason, Sam recalled April’s talent. Wasn’t the sloth’s abilities an upgraded version of April’s? Sam asked the sloth what would make it happy enough to produce those healing vibrations, and it took three minutes for the sloth to reply with two words: belly rubs.
Sam lowered his hand and slid it between himself and the sloth. Luckily, its demand was easy to fulfil. If it wanted an elaborate meal, then the reptilians and humans would’ve been screwed. As Sam rubbed the sloth’s belly—which was difficult because he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right thanks to the sloth’s lack of response—the color of the sloth’s aura lightened until it turned green. The colors around the sloth spread outwards, touching the layers of color around the reptilians along with Kerry and Tom. Kerry’s shoulder stump, which was there because the reptilians had ripped off his arm, wriggled and squirmed.
Through his All-Seeing Gaze, Sam watched as the injuries on his companions’ bodies were mended. Although he couldn’t see their flesh, muscles, and bones in detail, he could see incongruent patches of color in their bodies slowly matching the hue of the overall aura. Would the sloth resume the previous vibrations it was emitting if Sam stopped rubbing its belly? He asked it to find out and received a disheartening response. Yes, he had to continue rubbing its belly to make it happy, and if it wasn’t happy, the people around him wouldn’t be happy either.
While Sam processed what his future would be like, the reptilians’ angry mindset subsided, and with a little bit of effort, they broke the connection Sam formed with them, regaining their mobility. Ellie looked around before exhaling as she packed away her sticks and stilts. Even though she was fighting with her bodyguards not too long ago, she didn’t feel like faulting them; her mood was too good to pick a fight.
Ellie skipped over to Sam, the small reptilian’s actions causing Tom and Kerry to retreat several steps away. The yellow reptilian ignored their reactions and scratched the sloth behind its ears. “Thanks for stopping,” Ellie said and looked up at the illusion of Sam’s face. “You have to take good care of Joe, okay? You have a lot of pets, so you have to make sure you’re being fair to all of them.”
Sam already knew that. If he didn’t comply with his familiars’ wishes, well, bad things would happen: Raindu would steal whatever it wished; Birdbrained would start a grayling rebellion; the twin-headed snake would choke him; and the sloth would make everyone else unhappy, violent, and frustrated.
“Sorry about everything,” the red reptilian said, walking past Ellie and Sam towards Kerry. “I didn’t mean to rip your arm off and eat it.”
“No problem,” Kerry said, nodding at the red reptilian. For someone who was still feeling an itching sensation as his arm regrew, he was awfully understanding. “You were hungry; emotions were heightened; it was a perfect storm.”
“Great, great,” the red reptilian said and beamed. “After all, you and I are the same. It’d be unfortunate for us to hate each other because of a little misunderstanding.”
“Yeah,” Kerry said, walking over and placing his good arm around the reptilian’s shoulder. He had to stand on his tiptoes to do it since the reptilian was so tall, but Kerry managed. “We’re both hired thugs, not in control of our own lives, so there’s no need to make life even harder with animosity.”
Sam couldn’t help but scan the sloth again with his All-Seeing Gaze. Not only did its vibrations heal people, but it also calmed them down, preventing their negative emotions from rising up. Sam continued to rub the sloth’s belly, wondering if he could automate the process somehow. The twin-headed snake already robbed him of the usage of his eyes and mouth, and now, the sloth occupied one of his hands. Birdbrained was also particular about the way he held his head, squawking in protest if he tilted it one way or the other. Although he was gaining power in the form of his familiars’ abilities, he had to pay a price to upkeep them; of course, the price was completely worth it.
“Hey, look up there,” Tom said, pointing at the orange sky.
Everyone’s gazes shifted upwards—except for Sam, who focused on his All-Seeing Gaze instead. A green dot grew in size, taking the shape of a large praying mantis as it flew closer to the group. Sam noticed its aura colliding with the spread-out green haze the sloth was emitting. The insect’s aura brightened, and its movements, which seemed harsh before, became graceful as it landed on the ground without disturbing a single pebble.
The mantid took a defensive stance as it observed the mixed group of reptilians and humans in front of it. The mantid let out a screech that was translated into words in Sam’s head. “Hello, humans and ugly, hideous monstrosities known as reptilians.” The large praying mantis waved its front scythe. “May I ask what happened to the world seed acting as the core of the pyramid over yonder?”
“Who’s asking?” Ellie asked, placing her hands on her hips.
“Oh, pardon my manners,” the mantid said. “I’m Gregor Four-One-Seven. I was tasked with developing this lower plane. May I ask you some questions that’ll help me with my work?”
“Yeah,” Ellie said. “Go ahead.”
“Are you sure?” the black reptilian asked, turning its head down to look at Ellie.
“Why not?” Ellie asked. “If this plane develops, everyone in Oterra benefits.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Gregor said and rubbed his scythes together. “It’s rare for a reptilian to see things so clearly. What’s your name?”
“Ellie,” Ellie said.
“For some reason, I’m not inclined to tear you to pieces upon sight,” Gregor said. “Are you of the same mind?”
“Yeah,” Ellie said, nodding her head.
“What I’m about to propose next may sound odd,” Gregor said and tilted his head. “Would you like to be friends? Our two species may be at war, but I don’t believe peace between individuals is impossible.”
Ellie scratched her head. “You know what?” she asked. “Sure. Let’s be friends.”
Sam continued to rub the sloth’s belly. He had a feeling if he stopped, the mantid and the reptilians would attempt to kill each other. As long as the sloth was feeling happy and content, everyone around it would feel happy and content as well, finding no faults with other people for violence to occur—which was great because Sam suspected the mantid would be mighty pissed if it discovered the world seed it was taking care of had turned into Joe the sloth.
“Great,” Gregor said, its wings rising up and down. “May I ask what happened to make the pyramid collapse, friend? If I fail my job, my head will be ripped off and eaten, and quite frankly, I still have a lot to live for: there’s eight earwigs at home relying on my paycheck.”
“Oh, I hate to be the one to break the bad news to you,” Ellie said and sighed. She pointed at the sloth on Sam’s waist. “This human has the ability to turn crystals into animals, and he turned your world seed into a sloth.”
Gregor turned to stare at Sam. It lowered its head to look at Joe. Then, it raised its head to look at Sam. “Can you turn it back?”
“No,” Vercedei said, answering for Sam. “I don’t think it’s possible, and if it is, I don’t know how.”
“That’s terrible news,” Gregor said and sighed. “What am I going to tell my boss? The world seed was stolen under my watch? I’m dead, and all my earwigs are going to die with me.”
Everyone’s jaws dropped open as Gregor raised his scythes and cut off his own head. Then, the mantid’s headless body sat down, picked up its head with its lower arms, and crumpled forward into a symmetrical heap.
“Does that happen often?” Vercedei asked as the illusion of Sam pointed at the mantid’s corpse.
“Yes,” the black reptilian said. “Mantids are quite accepting of death. If they don’t accomplish their missions, they’re overwhelmed by a sense of failure, and they kill themselves.”
“It’s because there’s a lot of mantids,” the red reptilian said. “There’s so many of them that they often have to compete with each other for resources, and the ones that fail the competitions die one way or the other.”
“What about the earwigs?” Vercedei asked. “I assume those were the mantid’s pets?”
“Probably,” Ellie said and frowned. “I don’t think Gregor’s dead.”
The mantid’s mandibles and mouth parts moved, but no sounds came out. The headless praying mantis lifted its head and placed it against its neck stump. A few seconds later, the mantid’s head was reconnected to its body. “That’s weird,” the mantid said. “I didn’t die. Why didn’t I die? Everybody who’s cut their head off has died, so why not me? Did I do it wrong?”
Sam suspected it had something to do with the sloth’s healing vibrations. The aura around the mantid hadn’t faded at all despite its head being cut off. It wasn’t allowed to disperse thanks to the sloth’s aura keeping it trapped within the mantid’s body.
“It’s a sign,” Gregor said and walked up to Sam. “There’s something I can still do. I’m not sure what it is, but I’ll follow you around until I find out.”
Sam wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but Vercedei made it so Sam’s opinion didn’t matter. “Sure,” the snake’s blue head said. “Feel free to tag along, but no violence, alright?”