In the back of his mind, Hirrus feared what he would find when returning to the inn. He’d left Dahlia and Barin unattended for so long. A part of him anticipated that the lack of resistance he encountered at the Last of the Strong’s base may have been due to an offensive by them. Against the tavern. A final blow to show how weak he was in the face of the chaos an adventurer stood for.

But when he arrived, everything was intact and unharmed. The tavern keeper greeted him with a smile and Hirrus made small talk and paid their bills while he could. There was no mention of danger, but it didn’t cool the roiling anxiety in his belly.

He didn’t allow himself to relax until he got to the room and saw that his charges were fine.

“Hirrus,” Dahlia said, looking up as he came in through the door. Her visible concern turned to confusion when she saw him carrying groceries. “What happened?”

“It’s done,” Hirrus said simply as he set the bundled vegetables and bread rolls on the table. “They’re gone.”

Dahlia was laying in her bed, her hands cradling her pregnant belly. But the relief that washed over her at Hirrus’ words seemed to send her sagging into it, as if the bed itself had gotten softer instead of the tension running through her.

“To everyone’s surprise,” Alric added as he came in behind Hirrus, carrying a bundle of smoked sausage, “I survived, too!”

“I’m not surprised in the slightest.” Barin chuckled as he started to examine the pile of groceries. “You’re a competent young man, after all, and full of potential.”

Alric smirked. “Potential doesn’t pay the bills. Circumstances beyond the control of anyone involved spared me.”

“It’s done, though?” Dahlia asked, ignoring Alric completely. “They’re gone?”

Her voice had a wild tone to it, one that cut through to Hirrus’ heart. “For now,” he said as he moved to her side. “I slew their leadership, and while they will return, their deaths let me destroy the base of their power. Their home is a pile of rubble now. All of their resources were spent or destroyed. And the whole world knows it. The adventurers now know the price of what they’ve done.”

“Incredible,” Dahlia said with a relieved sigh. “In one act, you’ve avenged and protected us all. Julissa would be proud of what you’ve accomplished today.”

Hirrus knew that wasn’t true.

Julissa was a good and pure soul. It was impossible that she could be proud of the bloodshed and suffering he’d created.

No matter how much Fidelis and his army of monsters had deserved death, she could never endorse his methods. If she could see him now, she was likely disgusted with how he’d reveled in the violence of it.

Hirrus had enjoyed killing them.

Every spray of blood and splatter of viscera had been a pleasure to draw out of them. Meting out justice had been nothing compared to delivering his personal brand of destruction.

He’d never deny those feelings, but that joy would always be his shame.

Hirrus didn’t dispute Dahlia’s claim, however. His personal turmoil wasn’t her problem.

Instead, he focused on what he’d have to do next.

“This isn’t the end, though,” Hirrus said with a sigh that shook his shoulders. “There is a new challenge. A threat against me, directly.”

“What happened?” Dahlia asked.

She listened intently as he explained what GM Dave had said.

Hirrus told her that his freedom from the Decision Tree represented an anomaly that needed to be resolved, and some nebulous group of deific beings could - and would - resolve the issue by utterly destroying him. He explained that GM Dave had informed him of someone exacerbating the issue in a way that would draw the ire of those deific beings directly.

And finally, that GM Dave had tasked him with putting a stop to it to save his own life.

“He’s using you,” Dahlia said immediately, once Hirrus’ tale was done.

Hirrus nodded. “I know.” He hadn’t exactly known, not really, but once she said it, he realized that it was a conclusion he’d reached subconsciously. “But I can’t ignore the stakes at hand. If he’s right, then it’s my existence at risk, along with anyone else that has been successfully freed of their Decision Tree.”

“GM Dave isn’t telling you everything,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “What he’s asking you to face is his problem. I don’t believe for a second that he lacks the tools to handle it himself. Why is he making you do it?”

“He said there was something keeping him from tracking what’s happening,” Hirrus said, though the explanation sounded much thinner when he said it than when GM Dave had. “Some privacy rules. The same rules that kept him from finding me when I was his quarry.”

Dahlia gave him a look that made the thin explanation seem just that much thinner.

“If he is lying, that doesn’t change the core of the problem,” Hirrus continued, waving the suspicion away with his words. “My existence is at stake. If I refuse, my life is in his hands, and not my own. And if he isn’t lying, then my refusal is suicide.”

Dahlia pursed her lips at him, clearly agitated by the situation. But it seemed that, like Hirrus, she couldn’t see a clear way out of it.

It made him feel much better that he wasn’t the only one who saw his situation as unsolvable.

“If that’s the situation,” Dahlia said at last, “then you need to be in control of it. GM Dave is not your Decision Tree reborn. If you’re going to walk this path, it must be your choice.”

Hirrus nodded with a thin smile. “I never intended to squander the few days of freedom I have left. I must do this, but I still choose to.”

He tried not to think about the violence that this would entail, and how he would revel in it.

Hirrus told himself that choosing to follow GM Dave’s directions - despite the situation forcing him down that path anyway - was not predicated on his potential enjoyment of the job’s demands.

He wasn’t sure if he believed himself, though.

“I can’t stop you,” Dahlia said with a gentle smile as she patted his shoulder, “just like GM Dave shouldn’t be able to force you. All I can do is pray for your success.”

“Thank you,” Hirrus said, bowing his head.

A moment of companionable silence passed between them.

Despite that, Hirrus found himself consumed by his most morbid of fears. His fear of death - and nonexistence - wasn’t for his own sake.

It was for Julissa.

Sparing her the pain that Dahlia had suffered.

He started to ask before he could stop himself. “Do you-” A grimace crossed his face instantly. He didn’t want to cause her pain by bringing it up, but now that he’d spoken aloud, she would draw it out of him, so he sighed and asked anyway. “Do you miss Gier?”

Dahlia’s expression went dark instantly at the mention of his name. First with sorrow, and then shortly after with anger, and then sorrow washed over her face again.

The silence that passed between them seemed interminable.

And that sudden tension between them filled the room. At the table by the door, Alric and Barin had stopped their own conversation and were sitting stone-still.

“You’re asking because of what will happen to you,” she said at last. Despite the emotions visibly raging within her, her words were calm. Patient, even.

“No,” Hirrus said carefully. “I ask because of what will happen to Julissa if... when everything returns to normal, if I am not with her. And you, if I am no longer there to help you.” He gestured back at the groceries he’d gathered.

At his gesture, Alric and Barin leaned away from the table, as if Hirrus’ gesture might transfer Dahlia’s ire to them.

“I will be honest, then,” Dahlia said, folding her hands in her lap. “Yes. I miss him. Every moment of every day. I cannot imagine a worse torment than being without him.” Her eyes glazed over and became distant. “Every morning I wake up and know that no joy awaits me. I gave everything I had in my life for Gier, and now, without him, I have nothing left.”

Hirrus wanted to say that she still had something, but it seemed inappropriate to point out her pregnant belly. She had to carry it around all day, she knew it was there.

“He was my heart, and he was torn from me,” she said. Her lip trembled. “I am empty inside, Hirrus. You ask if I miss him? I say yes, but only because there are no words for what I feel.”

She waved her hand and Hirrus averted his gaze.

There was a quiet sound deep in her chest that was almost a sob. But just once.

Despite the emotional devastation she was experiencing, he’d never heard her cry before.

Dahlia was a hard woman. She shed her tears in private.

He couldn’t imagine Julissa suffering this with such dignity. Dahlia herself was made of stone and steel. She could endure the weight of mountains. Julissa… Hirrus thought the world of her, but she was soft. She was made of joy and light. The despair Dahlia carried would crush Julissa.

Even if she survived physically, the woman he loved would no longer be there.

“Don’t let this happen again,” Dahlia said hoarsely. Hirrus looked back at her, and while her eyes were red, her cheeks were dry. “Never again. Not to anyone. Please.”

“I swear it,” Hirrus said. He touched her hand and her fingers snapped closed around his in a death grip.

“Never again,” she said, repeating it with fervor.

“Never again,” Hirrus agreed.