"That way." I pointed deeper into the dungeon where I sensed other presences. "They feel... fine? No idea why they're avoiding this area."

"Could the rats have set up a trap?" Bessie said.

"Maybe there's rat repellant?" Tom said.

"Wait, first," Blake said. "We've been tagged!" We all turned to him at the uncharacteristic strain in his voice. He stared back at us a bit wildly. "Can't you feel it?"

"Um, yes, the teleport tag," I said, Appraising the telltale signs glimmering upon all of us, like a spiderweb-thin veil of coruscating jewels. Really beautiful work. I was less enchanted with its pustulant leakage of mana or the odious weight of it. "It should be fine?"

Now they all turned to stare at me, causing me to falter briefly. "I think?" I added. "We're in a different dimension, so they can't trace us the easiest way. I'll still need to remove the tags before we can leave, of course. And teleporting into Duni, or I guess any dungeon, feels..." I stumbled in trying to describe it. "There's this mounting pressure and resistance, a sense of an overpowering alien will. I quickly realized what it meant that first time and I still felt shaken and unnerved. I judge it extremely unlikely any tracker would try teleporting in, either by following our trail or jumping to our tags directly, after sensing that."

Among the numerous books I'd read on teleportation, one had been devoted solely to teleport tags and the tracking thereof. Of course I'd never believed I would have need of such knowledge, much less for nefarious-- um... questionable purposes. (Guilty conscience, would you kindly be more productive or less active? Either tell me what I should do instead, or stop fussing pointlessly at inopportune moments!)

"Thank the deities," Hannah said with relief. "Let's never do that again. Or have a better plan."

"Wait," Blake said. "You've discovered an easy and replicable way to shake off trackers? Do you realize some people would kill for that?"

"But you'd need a consenting dungeon?" I paused. "Um. Forget I said that."

"Never underestimate human innovation," Hannah said.

"Human greed," Tom agreed.

I supposed I simply hadn't considered the notion previously, but upon reflection it was obvious plenty of individuals and organizations would happily seek any advantage over their rivals, even by making deals with dungeons through their Contractors. Then again...

"Trackers could just check every Elder Dungeon," I pointed out. "It would stall them a little, yes, but not enough to matter if they know where to look. Come to think of it, maybe this is known or restricted information... [Scribe]."

I started a notated list of research subjects. Honestly, this was a long time coming; the library's Archives were calling to me, just as soon as I could get these teleport tags off. (Nailla's strange signaling of her sisters, assuming that's what it was, topped my list.)

"But either way, nobody should think to look for us here," Bessie half-stated and half-asked, relaxing slightly when I nodded. "You said it's 'extremely unlikely' somebody will try to push through and teleport to us? But if they do keep pushing...?"

"Even if anybody is that reckless or confident," I said, "I believe Duni could prevent them."

"Would it though?"

I opened my mouth -- 'of course!' -- and closed it. I'd badly misjudged Serena Beste, who I had thought I'd understood... In Duni's case, at least, I knew I didn't.

"I don't think we can predict that dungeon," Hannah said, mirroring my thoughts. I couldn't help but notice she was holding her bow casually but with an arrow nocked, ready to draw and loose any moment.

"Um... we should probably go talk to Duni." I looked around once more at the otherwise empty room. "And hopefully find out what is with the missing rats?"

Blake said, "Can somebody else carry this thing now?"

I glanced over at him curiously and then goggled in shock. "Blake! Is that... did you steal Serena's carrier?"

I wasn't sure how I'd managed not to notice this earlier. The artifact wasn't exactly subtle, about the size of a large suitcase but silver-plated and tube-shaped, with an extendable strap for lugging around. Sure, it was on the lower end for holding items -- we'd had to literally squeeze ourselves in and out of the opening -- but I didn't even want to imagine how much it cost!

"So?" Blake seemed supremely unconcerned. "Didn't she steal it herself first?"

"But... but that is her guild's!" I looked around for the expected support, finding none; how was nobody else upset by this?

He just looked at me with honest bafflement. "Weren't we there to steal from them?" While I started to formulate a retort -- people shouldn't be property! So we weren't really stealing! -- he added, "Besides, I thought you might want to try again. Or have you given up on those undines?"

"Of... of course not." But I had to suppress a shudder at the thought of returning into the enemy stronghold -- the legitimate guild establishment -- where they would know to expect us.

"Then how else do you plan to move them?" he asked, a little amused.

I... closed my mouth, slowly. The instinctive outrage that had leapt to fiery life within me flickered and died, leaving behind only smoke and hot air. I realized he'd scored two direct hits with his two simple inquiries, and I had no moral high ground here. Or at least none that didn't threaten to crumble right beneath my feet.

"Am I a bad person?" I wondered aloud.

Blake looked at me with puzzlement, but the others exchanged meaningful glances. I paled, staring at them. "Please tell me the truth," I said. "In... in your unbiased opinion, if we weren't friends."

"We think you're amazing!" Bessie said. "But we are friends. No matter what your Mind Healer says, I don't think it's possible to be totally objective. This would be different, different, different if we were, say, Breeders or undines."

"I think what Bessie means is we're adventurers," Hannah said.

"The brave and the free!"

"And the guild will kick us out first thing if we're convicted criminals, but you know we'll also get some pats on the back. Solid referrals, that sort of thing."

"You're acting like an adventurer," Tom summarized with a shrug.

I blinked. Not that long ago I would've protested; instead, I just wanted to understand. "But I thought 'adventurers fight monsters, not men'?"

"Sure do, and some adventurers want sparkly clean reps and to be public heroes," Bessie said. "Others want to do what's right, whether or not anyone else knows or agrees. But do you know what really separates adventurers?" She grinned when I shook my head. "We act."

"Unlike Mercenaries," Tom contributed.

"And speaking of action, let's get a move on! We can talk later, when we maybe don't have trackers on our tail!"

"I'll just leave this on the stairs?" Blake said.

We all eyed the ultra-expensive holding item he was carelessly propping up. I had a sudden vision of giant rats knocking it back and forth until it cracked open, spilling out enough water to fill a dungeon room or cover the whole floor.

"I'll carry it," Tom said to my relief. Hefting it by its strap with one hand, he added half-seriously, "I could probably use it as a bludgeoning weapon."

"Onwards!" Bessie clapped her hands together. "What fresh surprises does Duni have for us today?"

Hannah hung back, practically projecting her concern at me. I met her eyes and shook my head, smiling a little. Bessie was right; this wasn't the time. Besides, I had Healer Bishop if I needed to discuss ethics... or rather, my feelings regarding everything that had happened today, including whether I believed I'd acted unethically.

It was irrational not to utilize the carrier, right? On the other hand, that sounded like an excuse.

...What if we returned it after quest success?

But I was soon distracted by a new mystery, because something strange was definitely going on with Duni. The next two rooms were as empty as our first, and I could actually sense rats retreating from the fourth as we neared.

"So... they're afraid of us again?" Tom said.

"Not exactly?" I answered. "They feel more cautious than afraid. And... annoyed?"

"Should've brought cheese."

We proceeded through and exited yet another hallway, which was when events took an even stranger turn. This room contained some rat stragglers, but instead of fighting or fleeing, they flattened themselves against a wall and watched us with their beady eyes. We all took our time observing this phenomenon from the hallway before retreating back a room to deliberate.

"Uh... do they want us to pass? I swear," Bessie said, "This dungeon keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"It could be a new ambush tactic," Blake said. "Lure us to the middle then jump us from both sides with all their numbers."

I hadn't thought of that, but the suggestion made too much sense. My heart sank, and I realized I'd hoped... well, differently.

"You think they kept away from the early rooms," Bessie said, not outwardly betraying her doubt, "So we'd let down our guard?"

"Can you think of any other reason?"

"Maybe they hate teleports," Hannah said. "We just don't know enough."

"Rena?" Bessie asked.

I shook my head. "Hannah's right. We don't know."

"Right. Then I propose we continue like there's no problem. Rena and I hang in the back, and the moment they attack -- if they do -- we block off the hallway behind, same as we've practiced. Tom does the same on the other side. Blake, Hannah, you two take care of any attackers in the room with us, then help Tom. If they don't attack, everybody's happy, and if they do, we keep a clear conscience and gain some counter ambush experience. Thoughts?"

I looked at her in surprise, but the rest of the team was nodding and agreeing. Just another day in the life of an adventurer, it seemed. After a moment, I nodded as well.

"Great! Tom, can you handle the front?"

The rats were exactly where we'd left them. Well, they weren't quite unmoving, since they shifted and sniffed the air and stared at us with beady black eyes. Still, it felt unnatural to be near unimpaired Constructs just standing there.

I was immensely glad when we made it past them to the next hall, even if this meant rat minions to the front and back. "Sense anything from them?" Bessie asked me, also feeling uneasy. But mostly excited.

"The usual? Or, I'm not sure..." I hesitated before admitting, "Resentment maybe?"

Lacking answers, we continued onwards. There were more rats in the next room, but these also attempted (poorly) to imitate statues. They didn't feel resentful; that must have been my imagination. Or differences among minions?

Next room, and yet more rats, and so the pattern continued. It had to be the oddest dungeon run I'd ever experienced, though I supposed that wasn't saying much. As the number of rats per room increased, I could feel my friends growing more tense. Eventually there were too many minions to squeeze against one wall, so they started to line both sides, which sometimes put them rather close.

Bessie revised our plan: if necessary, she was to help clear the room too while I guarded the back with [Mana Dome].

"If they attack, I'm shooting to kill," Hannah said.

If. I tried not to get my hopes up. Each walk surrounded by minions on four sensory sides felt like another test of my nerves, and each time reaching another hallway like sweet release, like I could finally breathe again.

But it was hard not to hope when I realized we'd passed most of the minions. I couldn't judge exact numbers and distances, but there were definitely more behind than in front, and yet no attack seemed imminently forthcoming. Maybe...

No, focus.

I was paying such attention to each room packed full of rats, some bristling defensively, others crouched in positions alarmingly resembling preparations to pounce, I noticed little else even while escaping into yet another twisty hallway.

Thankfully, nobody and nothing was following us. I let myself relax and breathe, inhale, exhale, circulating my mana, and then I nearly walked right into Bessie, jerking to a stop as I felt my friends' shock.

It didn't happen all at once, instead traveling back like a chain reaction. Bessie was the next up, stepping forward, and whatever she saw gave her a shock too and made her excitement spike higher. I had to envy her constant optimistic energy; like Master Thorne's, but hers was all-natural. My curiosity sent me hurrying forwards, and then I was looking into a very familiar room.

A single occupant, the outline of stairs, higher mana...

A boss room. On the second floor.

Duni had reached Developing.

My heart had instantly begun to race, but not as quickly as my mind. Our different reception was because the dungeon was different! If it wasn't in the Starting stage anymore, it no longer needed to sleep? At least, Developing Dungeons were rather rarely caught sleeping; more typically, they were forced into it from defending themselves. So that meant Duni was watching us. Or it better be, unless there was anything more interesting happening right now. Was it trying to honor our agreement again, even though we'd both broken it already last time?

It had only been eight months! Or less!

"Rena?" Bessie whispered. "Normally we'd find somewhere secured to talk, but... Do you need a moment?"

Um, right. We were supposed to be hurrying to confront Duni here. Not that I truly believed we needed it; if anybody was crazy enough to pursue us through dimensions, I'd wager they would take their time to ensure they were maximally prepared with the best backup possible.

Then again, they could be a crazy adventurer.

"We act, right?" I said, trying to swallow down my nerves. I started to step boldly forward and stopped short from Bessie's hand on my shoulder. "Um... after you?"

"You'd best watch our backs," she said, and that even sounded like a real reason. "Blake?"

We all watched with some trepidation as he stepped first into the newest boss room. I knew dungeons just turned Developing weren't supposed to be any significant threat, but I also knew Developing was when even non-anomalous dungeons started to diverge: some gained more powerful minions or otherwise achieved surprising kills, while others were barely more effectual than when Starting.

Realistically, Duni shouldn't have had the time or resources to surprise us yet, but...

When hadn't it surprised us?

This rat boss almost suspiciously resembled the first, standing in place with its tail curled elegantly around its side to end in front. Except it was slightly smaller and slimmer still, white instead of black, and... well, cute-looking, maybe from the white fur coupled with the pink crown-like markings, pink feet and ears and nose, and that tail, and even reddish-pink eyes. Bosses were not supposed to be cute.

It had been watching us while we whispered and stared, but at Blake's approach it straightened further and spoke. "I am Queen Rat," it said, pressing its forepaws closer together daintily. "And you are?"

Um... My first thought was inanely of reading only female rats had nipples. But if this one did, the evidence was covered by its fur. And did it really mean to talk rather than fight?

I first suspected a trick, but it even felt quite kindly. Of course, that didn't mean it wouldn't turn around and try to bite our heads off, for the sake of an imaginary higher purpose, just as an example. But in the meantime, I translated and replied: "Our human names will sound like nonsense noises to you."

The boss gave a soft squeak of amusement. "Shall we give you rat names?"

Seriously, this was surreal. Bosses weren't supposed to be friendly or conversational! Was Duni trying to be underestimated? Or had the dungeon thrown a boss together haphazardly in its rush to grow?

I had no idea how the process worked, and now, I realized I might actually have the chance to ask. I didn't even need Bessie's reminder and said:

"Later, if it pleases you. We would like to pass and see your Great Creator."

Queen Rat paused. For the first time, darker emotions touched it: jealousy and fear. But as these were mixed with adoration and protectiveness, it only seemed more sincere. It looked up and around, speaking as to a hidden listener: "Then I will open your way unless commanded otherwise."

I translated, and we waited. The seconds ticked past without a response until the stairwell opened. Queen Rat, giving every indication of benevolent cooperation, stepped aside and watched us.

"This is the dungeon of intelligence, right?" Even Bessie seemed positively bewildered. "Not peace and harmony and friendship?"

"Maybe it knows it's no use fighting us," Blake said, striding ahead. "That's intelligence."

Honestly, I think we were all waiting for something to happen, but he arrived at the stairs without dramatics and looked back at us, shrugging. The rest of us moved forward together, all the while Queen Rat looked on placidly...

And then we were heading down, down to reunite with Duni. Through ever-thickening mana onto the third floor.

Touching down, the mana density was nearly comparable to the Woodland Dungeon's first. And to my surprise, lacking a single intervening room or even minion for defense.

We were already at the Core room. There before us was the glowing white center wrapped in garish chains. What was more, I could feel Duni watching us, watching me.

It felt eager. Hungry, with the predatory quality that implied, but not exactly threatening. When I stepped closer, that eagerness grew, and I thought I understood: it wanted to talk. But as we had discovered time and time again, our ability to communicate was significantly improved upon physical contact, and if I had to guess, doing so would also save it mana or energy or whatever other resource the Woodland Dungeon had used to speak with me. It had been waiting.

Then that made two of us who'd sought out this moment. I thought I'd been waiting since... since the very first time we'd connected.

My heart beating with trepidation and excitement, I crossed the remaining distance. Reached out, physically and otherwise.

And for a moment, I could feel the shared burn of our hunger, which made curiosity a pale shadow. We looked into each other, seeking. We opened to each other, wanting.

I knew better than to assume I understood what I found. Still, if I needed to put it in words, it was this:

We communicated at the deepest, most fundamental level, without words, without images, without any traditional trappings of communication. It was as though we bypassed the whole inefficient in-between and directly poured out our hearts into each other. It was...

I thought I touched transcendence without the system.

Then my hand dropped, my head whirling, feeling full to bursting. What...? How...?

At least the other seemed as astounded. Clearly neither of us had intended... that, whatever that was. I stared at the innocuously glowing Core, and I couldn't help wondering what had it seen... in me...?

"Rena?" Hannah said. "What did it say?"

Oh right. Talking. Somehow it seemed... inadequate and essential both, but I shook my head, asked for more time, and reached out again, more tentatively now.

Duni and I hunched behind our respective mental mirror-shields, reflecting back each other's wariness and confusion, reflecting smaller reflections of reflections within, an infinite loop...

But not really. That was just sort of what the subsequent flurry of guarded exchanges felt like, over in forever and no time at all.

I drew in a deep Meditative breath, circulated my mana, and tried again.

I thought of the information package the Woodland Dungeon had sent me, and though I knew I couldn't match its alien sophistication, I pieced together a greetings, and the warmth of welcome -- long time no see -- good books, shared love of knowledge -- I know you, maybe -- two sets of chains rattling -- I want to know you -- and probably more that slipped out from my subconscious, and I held all that together like a memorized book or rune array.

As before, the more to be said, the more I could say. The dungeons' telepathic language was one uniquely meant for conveying context.

So I strung my will and wish into a single transmission, allowed to emerge at long-awaited last. I said everything and nothing.

A first step. A full circle.

I sent: