A Quest is Bestowed: “Breaking the Seal”

Somebody has designed and implemented an ingenious device. A dimensional anchor that locks out and delays interplanar travel. We respect their creativity- and we want their creation destroyed.

Destroy the Dimensional Seal (0/1)

Reward- Resonant Greatsword, Cloak of Elements Technique

The System’s voice chimed into his mind, and Nic sighed. He didn’t like doing Logos’ work.

And he liked the sight of ‘Azel’ even less. The quest seal had allowed him to finally see what was lurking around Shane.

The angel was huge and machine-like, a thing of sweeping wings with cords instead of feathers, long bronze tubes extending down from the frames until they faded into dark transparency. Ticking clockwork was exposed between panes of polished brass, its face a mask of childish innocence surrounded by a halo of golden peacock feathers.

It was the kind of gaudy thing a god would make.

“I believe you had some questions for me…” The angel said, in a voice like a mechanical purr. All bells and ticking.

“I can ask them on the way.” He lifted his axe over his shoulder, and nodded towards the dungeon. “There are four more Ascended devils, and I’m guessing they’re the ones who controlled the lesser devils and sent them out to feed.”

The way the Ascended devil had acted was too coordinated. It had protected the others, entering the fight only when they were threatened. It was watching over them, herding them, letting them eat first.

Was the Heretic responding to the Inquisitor trying to come through? Just from Sula’s description, it didn’t seem like even the Ascended devils would be able to scratch the Inquisitor. If the plan was to raise a heretical army it would need to be a lot higher than F-Class.

Something wasn’t right.

“I concur. Monsters spawned within a Dungeon layer are given strong instincts not to leave. Only a guiding force would push so many out to feed.” Something about how soft and sweet Azel’s voice was set Nic’s skin on edge.

Shane just rolled his eyes. “See? He always talks like this. It’s annoying.” He huffed.

Tusk and Moira, unable to hear the angel, looked at Nic with concern. Nic shot a dark look back at Moira. They shared their suspicions that Azel wasn’t going to be a good influence on Shane, but, what could they do about it? Azel seemed barely more physical in nature than Sofia was.

Killing him would take special tools.

“Let us be off.” The angel drifted past. From the torso down, its body faded into shadows, and it drifted along the ground like a cloud.

“Sofia.” Nic whispered, aware the angel could probably hear him. “What’s this guy’s deal?”

“Angels aren’t like Sophonts. They’re not created. Instead, they’re… forged.” Sofia’s voice dripped with distaste. “After a few thousand years of isolation, heretics lose their will to fight, their identity, everything. Logos strips them down to nothing and binds them in cages of clockwork to serve him. That mask? It’s not just for show. There’s a face underneath- and nails lining the inside.”

“If you’re asking about my origin.” Azel interrupted smoothly. “I’ll gladly tell you myself. I was born a human, like yourself, but strayed into heretical pursuits. I forged weapons to crack the System and expose its weaknesses. Stole secrets I was not entitled to. Logos taught me the error of those ways; he showed me the good of the System, its justice.”

“Justice?” Nic’s slimy eyebrow lifted. “I’m still not seeing it. Maybe I need a few centuries in a torture pit to learn how to kiss ass.”

“Do you really think the lottery is random?”

Silence.

Nic-

Nic had wondered. If it really came down to luck, if he’d just won a once-in-a-million shot, or if there was something more, a reason he’d been given a monster who excelled in tools and runes and all the tricky ways he was good at fighting. If the System had just thrown him into the wild and let him succeed, or if he was walking along a path that had been arranged.

“I don’t care.” He was surprised by how honest that was. “I really don’t care at all. I’ve had to bite, scratch, claw- kill and nearly die and everything between. And some bastard who was born rich could get everything I ever did for nothing.”

The System hadn’t held his hand when he fought the Guardian in the Valley of Memories. When he tore apart the curse-puppets in the desert.

The System’s advocates couldn’t step in now and say ‘look at all we’ve done for you’ when they would have watched him fail. When they had watched thousands like him die, not quite up to their tests. He wasn’t chosen. When hand sanitizer promised to kill ninety-nine point nine nine percent of germs- the germ that lived wasn’t chosen, it was just refusing to die.

“Ah, and that’s where our disagreement lies. You think the System is unjust because it watches many die. I think there is justice in letting the weak fail. They would hold you back, given the chance. They would swarm upwards and drag the stars from the sky, if they could. To be Chosen- it is only possible because of the countless more who are Not Chosen.”

“And how many times did a hot iron get rammed up your ass before you decided to politely agree with all that bullshit?” Nic shot back.

“Nicolas…” Sofia warned. But he could hear laughter tinging her voice.

“In any case.” Just like he could hear the subdued anger in Azel’s. “There is no more need to bicker. We have arrived.”

The clearing of broken tents and corpses was growing pungent as the day went on, and bright sunlight turned the puddles of blood into great black scabs and stains on the earth. Flies buzzed above the plentiful dead. The sand devils had begun to melt, their stomach acids eating them to nothing.

He stepped over the ruin and up to the dungeon portal.

As he walked through there was a brief moment of disorientation between ‘here’ and ‘there’- a moment where he felt weightless, like he was falling, and saw a glimpse of somewhere else. A world with cracked islands drifting through blue skies above a sea of shining silver, the waves on the mirrored surface looking like crinkles in aluminum foil.

And then he was through. His feet hit solid, gritty sand, warmed through with the sun. Above, the sky was cloudless and the floating river with its islands of oasis-verdant green hung beneath the blinding disk of the sun. Ruins and desolate red sand spread out in all directions.

The human camp that had situated itself at the entrance- the huge stone wall that ran around the perimeter of the Dungeon- had met the same fate as the one on the other side. Nic picked his way through the ruins sadly, thinking. Listing off what was ahead of him.

Rise to the heavens

Guide your ship to the Hall of the Sun

Slay the Master of the Hall

(Optional) Slay the False Gods of the Ruins to gain their Boons (0/4)

--or--

Slay the Native interlopers (4/4)

Make a sacrifice on the Altar of Night (0/1)

Present yourself to the Master of the Hall for your reward.

Because he was a monster both the Native and Invader routes of the Dungeon were open to him. He’d already progressed along the Invader path by sheer luck, and if he could find the Altar of Night and pay the cost, it wasn’t impossible for him to clear the Dungeon that way.

But the Native route was undoubtedly more clearcut. He had a way up to the Dungeon’s upper layer with the teleportation crystal he’d looted from the Valley of Memories. He had a ship, and although Old Ben had suggested it would take more than one person to make the tiny vessel expand, the ship was only F-Class. Nic was now a grade higher and able to burn his Essence through the Concept of Sacrifice, making him equivalent in aura to seven of his previous selves.

He could sail straight for the Hall of the Sun.

But first he wanted to match up against one of the False Gods first. That would be the test of his own strength and whether he was ready to fight the Master of the Hall.

And along the way, he’d try to collect lore fragments. Every set of four he found seemed to weaken one of the False Gods, and collecting eight would allow him to read the language of the dead civilization.

Both worthwhile goals.

Returning to the Valley of Memories was part of his plan- he needed weapons for his six-armed form and the Valley was rich with treasures. It would be better to wait for that until he knew the language, so he could decipher the hieroglyphics within the temple.

“I will set out and find the Dimensional Anchor, then guide you towards it.” Azel said. The angel spread his wings and shot upwards into the sky.

Leaving Nic to ponder.

His path was straightforward enough, but there was something off.

Sula. The nuclear fire. The heretic.

The tale of Anet-Mu, who’d seen his world destroyed and left behind cryptic messages hinting of some vengeance he planned against the System.

They all collided somewhere and he didn’t understand how yet. He could only hope it wasn’t as simple as Sula being the Heretic. He hoped he was wrong- but her mother’s fate left her plenty of reasons to hate the System. Maybe enough reason that she’d create a swarm of sand devils and unleash them on the Natives.

Maybe.

Nic had a day before his Warform recharged and he was ready to face down the first of the false gods. He had the Sandrider Blade to travel the wastes, a good morning where the sun wasn’t too high, and a clue to lead him towards. The chained giant Lavhin had hinted there was a fourth goddess statue to the east, the sister of the three in the Valley.

And each of those three had held one fourth of Anet-Mu’s final message.

At the fourth…

If Nic was right, then Anet-Mu’s vengeance was somehow still in motion. After hundreds or thousands of years, the arrival of the Heretic was somehow part of the ancient mage’s plan. He had managed to send a message to Nic through the ages, although the System had tried to hide it.

Once the Inquisitor arrived…

Everything would fall into place.

And if Nic wanted to change how things fell, he needed to know more. Turning himself due east, he consulted the map he’d drawn in his mind days ago, of all the teleportation circles scattered through the desert. The farthest due east was an enormous statue of a sphinx.

Nic poured energy into the Sandrider Blade and shot forward through the dunes.

Before he cracked this world open like an egg, he’d take one day and try to understand the nest of hornets he was disturbing.