“Fuck that.” I said aloud. It had nothing to do with my personal beliefs—I was devoutly agnostic, open to the idea that something was out there, yet never willing to bank on it. But the attention of a divine power was not something I wanted. My first instinct was to close the window, pack up my things, grab my summon, and get the hell away. If the prompt had said, “The favor of the being who imbued it,” maybe that would be different.

But the wording specifically said, “draw the eye.”

Which implied on a basic level, that a being of definite power and questionable benevolence, with far better things to do, would become aware of me.

From a religious and mythological standpoint, gods showing an interest in someone was bad fucking news. Abraham had the bad day to end all bad days. Job had a bad few years. If you veer away from the so-loved-the-world variety into Greek mythology, it gets worse. If you were prettier than Athena, or agreed to wrestle Antaeus, or hell, even looked wrong at Zeus?

In a less academic example, it would be like me looking down at my arm and noticing an ant.

Not good for the ant.

I heel-turned and left with every intention of grabbing Audrey and getting the hell out of there, in case our mystery divine power took offense to me deciding I wanted nothing to do with their shrine.

Think it through. Can you really afford to turn this down?

My half-run slowed, and I turned back towards the shrine.

There are enough Users out there that, theoretically, any small number of people could be in this position at any given time. How many of them would share your reticence? You got lucky with Kinsley and the dungeon key, but you’re likely not the only one. The flavor text said there’s more than one of these things, and they manifest in different places. If your suspicions about this degenerating into endless PVP are correct, can you really turn this chance down?

I closed my eyes. was making too much sense for me to ignore. If there were many Shrines of Elevation, it stood to reason that whoever the “gods,” were, they likely had more than one. And this particular shrine was on the third floor of an adaptive dungeon. It was unlikely to be all that noteworthy, perhaps imbued by a less powerful god.

It was mostly conjecture, but had enough to it that I found myself standing in front of the altar, staring down at its polished stone surface. A small wreath formed from braided-together grass adorned the surface. In many ways, it more resembled an anvil than an altar.

Unsure of what to do, I placed my bare hand against it. The surface was colder than ice.

Okay. That seemed relatively low-impact. But which common item? I ran through them all in a process of elimination. My armor was the most straightforward option, but it was holding up well. The left a lot to be desired. As long as I had access to Kinsley, however, weapons were something she had in abundance. Easy enough to upgrade the crossbow to something specific I wanted.

Using it on a potion or consumable would likely be a waste—

The mask?

It stuck out to me originally because I hadn’t seen anything like it in the shop. There were helmets, but no masks. I liked the design of it, and had been playing with the idea of keeping it in the back of my mind. Having a quick method to cover my face if I ran into another User could help keep my objective intact.

But if it had more utility, I’d keep it for sure. And though the armor was likely the better option, I wasn’t willing to risk it in case the altar had an adverse effect.

I took the mask from my inventory and placed it in the center of the Altar. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a pale, blue-tinted hand reached up from beneath the surface.

I jumped back, worried that in my haste to loot the aftermath, I’d missed an enemy hiding in wait. Another one followed, and another, and another. The disembodied hands fumbled their way towards the mask, fingers bending and flexing as if they were warding off an endless muscle spasm. One-by-one, they found the mask and clambered over it, covering it layer by layer, until it was no longer visible.

What—

There was a sound not unlike a dying horse modulated to a painfully high frequency. Blue, eerie light emitted, brighter than high-beams on the darkest night. I clamped down on my ears with both hands and looked away until the sound faded to nothing. Audrey must have heard the commotion because she was staring through the doorway in confusion.

When I turned back, the hands were gone.

I waved Audrey off. “It’s fine, I think. Go back to your dinner. Like I said, we’re leaving soon.” Audrey didn’t move. She rooted herself in the doorway, and stared daggers at the mask on the table. Her lips were pulled back, showing her bloodied teeth.

That… doesn’t bode well.

I crossed the room to the mask on the table, and, after taking a moment to work up my courage, picked it up.

Fuck.

There was a presence directly behind me. I could almost see a person in my extended peripheral vision. I spun, finding nothing but Audrey, cowering in the corner. She was still staring at the Altar, motionless. I turned slowly, steeling myself. Tendrils of panic were squeezing tighter in my mind, threatening to dislodge the unnatural calm from my title.

Say something, quickly.

I licked my dry lips. “I-I greet you in return. And thank you for the gift—If it’s a gift, for me. If not, I can leave it.”

The presence was still there, the slightest flicker of shadow back and behind the altar. If I stared at it too hard, my vision blurred, beginning to go dark. All throughout, the text continued to scroll.

“And what have I done to earn such a generous boon?” I asked. Not that I’d had time to look at it. Knock on a divine door and wake up the god of fucking chaos and tell me you wouldn’t kiss a little ass.

“Why?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. What is the transposition?” I asked, trying to keep my frustration from leaking into my voice. “Why give me this, if I’m as doomed as you say?”

And with that, the so-called Allfather of Entropy disappeared, leaving me with more questions than answers. I was still shaking, beads of sweat on my forehead, as I inspected the mask.

Description: A mask that is not a mask. The last boon of a dying god. A one-of-a-kind artifact that will, when worn, make it nearly impossible to remember specific details about the User’s physical characteristics and voice, with more details fading over time. Only certain high-level perks or repeated exposure can partially counteract this effect. May magnify certain Titles before Title Integration.

It was a piece I hadn’t even realized I was missing. Incredibly powerful with enough utility to make my head hurt. Granted, it came with the attention of a chaos god and the knowledge that whatever was driving this mess had it out for me in particular, but that was a problem for another day.

I took a deep breath and slid the mask on. As before, the white of the mask disappeared, giving me a clear view of everything around me. It was like putting on a pair of noise-canceling headphones for the first time. Every errant distraction and thought disappeared as came to the forefront. I’d become comfortable enough with the titles that I could pick out their influence, understand why I thought something that was out of the ordinary for me. Wearing the mask actually made that understanding far, far more difficult.

Taking it off created an even greater extreme, as my thoughts and muted panic from the implications of my conversation with the entropy god came to the forefront.

The reference in the text to title integration was something I needed to look into as well. But all I could think of was that wearing it with Jaded-Eye was something I should avoid, if at all possible.

It was a double-edged sword.

Audrey was literally rooted to the floor, still quaking, staring at the spot our divine visitor had disappeared from. Still, she had managed to alert me that something was wrong and hadn’t run away.

“Scary…” Audrey whispered.

“Yes it was. Up, up.” I gently reached down and untucked her vines from the ground, letting her wrap them around my arm instead. Her thorns scuffed against my armor, but that was fine. It didn’t need to look pretty. As we walked, I looked around at the ravaged corpses of the gnolls, and hefted my carrying arm experimentally. She didn’t feel particularly heavy, considering the amount of mass she’d consumed, but then again, we’re talking about a magic flower. I carried her out of the camp and onto the elevator.

I eyed the four button for a moment, before pushing the number one instead.

I’d made it far. And floor three had been more than enough of a lesson to not charge into something like this unprepared. Just because the dungeon was adaptive didn’t make it any less dangerous. In some ways, the ever increasing level being one, it might actually be more dangerous. I had no intention of coming back here until I was better prepared.

I put the mask on for a few minutes as I entered the lobby, confirming Brett hadn’t decided to stick around.

With exactly one spot left in my inventory space, I looted a computer monitor from the lobby. It was technically a system created item—and I was pretty sure Kinsley would buy it to replace her crummy CRT.

It took me a moment to realize my burner was buzzing incessantly. It was mainly for business or emergencies, so I wasn’t used to it going off.

Weird that there’s reception down here.

My concern grew as an endless stream of messages flowed in, one after another.