Chapter 105

Morning came quicker than Michael would have liked. Getting out of bed, he sent a burst of healing through his body, feeling the refreshing waves of intricately woven mana and Qi mingle with Intent, thanks to the new evolution of the skill. The effect of the healing was even more dramatic than usual, instantly refreshing his body to full awareness and readiness. The same couldn’t be said for his mind.

Or rather, that’s what his old self would have thought. Instead, he found himself strangely calm. He had slept well, if not for very long due to his nighttime activities, and without any dreams—pleasant or unpleasant. There was a bottle of bourbon in a decorative cabinet by the entrance of his prefab home, and he thought about pouring himself a swig just to add a little kick to the morning, but quickly discarded the idea.

At least he now understood. He wasn’t addicted; his body made it impossible to get any effect from mundane alcohol. But there was more to it than mere chemistry. It was the action that made him feel… grounded in the moment, like the rest of the world vanished for a moment and all that was left was him and the little glass of amber liquid. It was like meditation, of sorts.

Maggie was in the kitchenette having breakfast. She wasn’t a morning person, and didn’t like eating the first meal of the day in the canteen with all those burly men and women working for her brother’s company. Michael decided to eat with her, chatting about mundane things, making plans for the future, and overall feeling like a normal human for a while.

Then it was time for him to truly begin his day. He kept to a tight schedule, mostly because the deadlines he had to respect were fuzzy and hard to predict. Who knew when another dungeon would pop up, and what sorts of dangers it would bring? The same went for all the work he did around the Site. There were just so many things to do, so many discoveries to be made that could improve the world someday, but he didn’t want to wait for who knew how long before he could make a difference.

To start the day on the right foot, Michael decided to challenge the dungeon’s fourth floor again. After having slept on the previous day’s failures, his mind was clearer, and most of the frustration he felt had faded away. His prefab was right beside the entrance to the dungeon, close to where his mansion—should they ever get around to building it—would be. He didn’t expect to find anyone nearby, not this early, making his dive just a quick in-and-out to any outside observer. But instead, he found Old Dave staring at the cave longingly.

“Hey, man,” Michael greeted.

Old Dave turned around to face him. The movement was quick and abrupt, but something told Michael it was only meant to look like he had startled the old man, while in truth, Dave knew he was coming all along. How Michael knew this, he couldn’t really tell. He’d been having hunches about things ever since his [Unity] skill had gained the Truth facet after evolving.

“What are you doing here?” Michael inquired.

Old Dave mulled over his words, as if uncertain what to say. Finally, he sighed. “Travis told me you can shield people from the dungeon’s Gaze.”

Michael nodded. “That’s right. It’s something about my aura, I think. Johanne has an experiment scheduled for me later this week to test the range and effectiveness of my ability.”

“Can you do it for me?” the old man asked, his voice laced with nerves that Michael could never have noticed without his enhanced stats.

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“Of course,” Michael assured him. “You don’t even need to ask.”

“Thanks,” Old Dave replied. “I want to…consolidate my power a bit. The house at Redbud Ridge is becoming dangerous without offering much in the way of gains.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, nodding. “It’s just brute training without any of the dungeon’s rewards.”

Old Dave’s jaw tensed. “Yeah…” he mumbled, distracted. Something told Michael that what he’d said wasn’t the real reason Old Dave wanted to delve.

“Why don’t you join me down on the fourth floor?” Michael suggested. “I need to figure out what the challenge is, and Drullkrin is ill-suited for it.”

“I’m just a lowly Copper,” the old man muttered, melancholy and a hint of sadness coloring his tone.

“We can change that,” Michael pointed out.

“I need more time to consolidate my power,” Old Dave insisted. “I’m not a young man anymore…although sometimes I wish I was again.”

“Listen,” Michael began, “I know Travis goes around telling people to consolidate this and that. It’s good advice, but the thing is, we don’t know much about magic yet. It could all very well be bullshit. You said it yourself, you’re not young anymore. Take what power you can get.”

“Heh,” Old Dave laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “Your words cut deep, even if you don’t know it. I’m still going to say no. I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Michael pressed.

“Why?” He chuckled again, a hollow sound. “Why…” he repeated, letting the question hang in the air. “It’s not about consolidating power, lad. It’s the dungeon itself. Don’t you get it? Didn’t the same happen to you as well, when you killed for the first time?”

Michael cocked his head. “I was…scared of what I could become. That I would lose control of myself. It didn’t happen, though.”

“Well,” Old Dave said, “I always knew you had it in you. Me…” His eyes grew distant. “I wasn’t much of a good person in my younger days, Michael. Going down there, it reminded me of what I lost. Old age sucks. Day to day, it’s easy to ignore. You get weaker, your joints pop, and your back hurts. But down there…”

He paused, his eyes a little moist.

“Down there, lad. It’s like being thrown back into the thick of it. The dread, death breathing down my neck, its hot breath tickling my skin. It makes me feel alive. Whole again. And then, when for a little moment I forget the wreck I have become in my old age, reality steps in to smack me in the face. Reminding me of all I was, and all that I am not anymore. I was strong, Michael.” Fire burned in the old man’s eyes. “I could fucking snap people in half. No magic needed. With magic? People like Carmela… I could take them by myself, for fuck’s sake. The world was different, but so was I.”

“But the dread, it’s the Gaze, isn’t it?”

“Pff,” Old Dave laughed as his face contorted in self-loathing. “The Gaze. Funny thing, that. I could eat worse shit for breakfast, back then. It’s not the dread of the Gaze that petrifies me, Michael, it’s just how much I fucking love it. I love it, you get it? But one misstep down there, with me being like I am, and no skills will save me. A goblin could end me. A goblin!”

Old Dave sighed. “The Gaze latches onto my own sense of loss. It makes it worse. Because I know… deep down, I know that I could maybe get what I wanted down there. A legendary skill or something. But I am scared to find out that I’m just delusional, and only death awaits me in the dungeon. You don’t get it. You are at the peak of what you have ever been, and you are only getting better. Me? I have instincts, muscle memory, old strength I can summon. Just that, if I even dare touch upon that well of power a tiny bit, I will rip myself apart. I am seven feet tall, with muscles as dense as steel, but bones and joints made of paper. Organs that are failing. Look at my face, Michael. Before you came into my life, every wrinkle was borne of a day my kidneys failed to purify my blood properly, my body eating itself from the inside out.”

“It’s one of the worst feelings imaginable, lad. Knowing what you could do, what you should do…and your body, your failing body, just… refusing. Falling apart.” He shook his head slowly. “That’s why I can’t go down there. It’s not just the monsters, Michael. It’s… it’s me. I’m the monster I’m most afraid of.”

“I understand,” Michael said. For a long while, no words were said between the two. Then, with a single nod, Michael looked at his old mentor in the face. “You sort your mind out, I’ll deal with the rest. You can do that, can’t you?”

“You fucking bet I can. Give me back my old body, and you’ll see.”

“Good. I’m seeing Doctor Kavanaugh right now. See if he can cough something up.”