Getting into the basement was just as easy as Lock had imagined it. Ms. Richard's was sleeping, the Castouts had already left through the Gate, and since they were composed entirely of fairly straight-forward Classes, they hadn't left behind any traps to hinder the three of them. The actually competent members of the noble factions had, as expected, not been involved in anything, except perhaps monitoring from afar, and had most likely long since left the Castouts to their own devices.

Thus, Lock and his two subordinates found themselves in front of a hole in the ground after having taken a stroll there.

Had this not been a mission, Lock might have remarked on how eerie the entire contraption looked. Eerie in its simplicity. The Gate was for all intents and purposes, a hyper-realistic, three dimensional painting on the ground, that one could jump through to get to the other side. Oh and there was also a rope tied down on a very heavy looking chest that led down into the Gate. Not something he'd thought of, but something he should have expected really. The Castouts couldn't fly after all. But how had they gotten up to the ceiling in the first place then? Whatever. The rope was there, ready for their escape when they needed it. Although before Lock threw himself down there... He walked over to the edge of the Gate, kneeled down, and looked into the reception room of the dungeon.

It was empty, the only difference to what he'd seen when he'd been there himself, was some sort of odd round contraption on the heavily chained, and gigantic gate that lead to the boss.

He would inspect it further once he got down there Lock decided, as he jumped through, landing on the ground in a standing position. Something that only someone with a high enough Endurance could manage without getting hurt.

Mia and Tia meanwhile clambered down using the rope. Once they'd joined him in the room Lock walked over to the odd round object he'd previously seen on the gate to the boss and inspected it.

It was a silver doorknob.

Lock had to hold back a whistle.

A dimensional doorknob. Now that, was an artefact. A doorknob that one could attach to any surface and grow a door out of.

An artefact created and distributed by the Vídd family. Well, that sounded like the Vídds were churning out the things by the hundreds. Which they weren't. Maybe two a year if they were feeling particularly industrious. The artefacts were quite naturally always snatched up by successful thief's on the auction, although those naturally never identified themselves as such.

Enough distraction. Lock could only hope that the boss fight was currently in a good spot to be interrupted.

Pulling out a grey painted Friedrich from his pouch, Lock laid the mouse onto the ground, clutching the blood essence vial in his right hand. Dissolving into mist, a process much more comfortable than the teleportation arrays of the dungeon, thank you very much, he found himself within the body of the mouse. Quickly turning around he clambered onto the back of Mia's left foot, perfectly blending in with the dark grey of the material. He twitched his nose. Poor Friedrich, the paint really didn't smell that good.

“Begin.” Lock said in the usual snake-like voice he took on when using possession. The twins nodded, their forms blurring as they began actively using their stealth skill. Tia dropped a bunch of caltrops on the ground behind them. They snuck through the door, hoping that they'd remained unseen.

The scene that greeted them was utter chaos.

Well, greeted Mia and Tia more like. Lock couldn't really see much from his position stuck on Mia's ankle. But he could definitely hear a cacophony of noises. Metal clanging, things flying, people chanting, earth moving.

The foot he was holding on to suddenly vibrated. He let go of the tabi with his little claws and dropped to the floor. A shake of the foot meant that they'd remained unnoticed and that the plan could proceed.

The structure of the boss room was as he'd expected it, therefore Lock was able to simply run to the left; along the round; cave-like room and take in the situation. The first thing that he noticed was the boss, it was kind of hard not to, considering it was about eight feet tall. An earth golem with somewhat human-like proportions smashing down his rather large fists onto an armoured figures shield. The armoured figure, which must have been Light, was having a seemingly difficult time dealing with the assault, but was barely hanging on with the help of the Curador, with whom he seemed to be sharing a healing bond, or something, if the throbbing bright rope of indiscernible colour (because he was a mouse) connecting the two was any indication.

But no matter how bad the beating he was taking seemed, Light was still doing his job. Namely soaking up the boss's attention and winning time. Time that Dog Breath, the Vídd and the Legil were using to chip away at the earth golems health. Often times when the boss overextended, Dog Breath would run in to slash away at easily reachable points on its body with a fang like sword. When the boss turned to Dog Breath, trying to swat him away like the annoying mutt that he was. It got a face full of telekinetically thrown daggers from the Legil, and small, but sharp, arcs of energy from the Vídd, who was throwing them out by whipping his arms.

The fight seemed well in hand, the boss probably having never stood a chance. The closer Lock got, the more damage he could discern on the earth golem. Some missing chunks here and there, some impressions in the earth probably inflicted by Light's shield, and what seemed to be cracks running all over its body, emitting some sort of light. Poor thing. Thankfully Lock and his compatriots were here to save it from those bullies.

It was odd to feel even slightly heroic in this situation, considering how Lock wasn't even here to save the dungeon or anything, being perfectly willing to snack on the boss as well if the chance arose. But despite all this, Lock did feel kinda heroic. It was an odd feeling, for sure, probably only present due to how pitiable the boss looked. Namely like a beaten puppy, biting back half-heartedly due to its instincts, but deep down knowing that its life was over, that the drunk man with a belt was too powerful, and too intoxicated to stop.

The Castouts did in fact seem intoxicated, they'd taken no visible serious damage, and by the time Lock had managed to position himself close to the boss fight, the boss had begun visibly flagging and falling apart. It must indeed have been a great feeling for the Castouts. Being oh so close to regaining the 'love' and support of their families, that they'd been cruelly deprived of ever since their immeasurable talent at failing had become apparent. Lock saw the joy in their faces and couldn't help but feel jealous.

Emotions dulled with age. The memories that held the stronger emotions, the moments that helped one develop the resistance in the first place, being swept away like a leaf in the wind.

A sudden anger ignited within Lock, as he sat there as a mouse, watching the boss being beaten, and the Castouts innerly jubilating. Watching others go through highs that he would never be able to experience again unless he resorted to drugs.

A profound sadness emerged. Had he sought out immortality only to watch himself grow immune to every single pleasure out there, unable to die all the while? Sadness mixed with Anger, forming a bitter Hatred for the Castouts. Whereas before they had simply been walking sacks of exp. now, they were something to be envious of, something to be hated.

The world seemed frozen. Could Lock even be envious of something that he would never be capable of obtaining? Rising from one's personal lowest low, to regain one's station, or maybe even a higher one. He had barred himself forever from that path, by achieving the highest station imaginable. That of an entity. A universal constant. Infinity.

Those eager faces, already thinking of the joy they'd be experiencing after they rejoined their families due to completing their mission...

In that moment of frozen time. Lock came to a realisation.

These would be the most enjoyable murders of his life.

Time unfroze. The Vídd and Legil were throwing out harassing attacks, the Curador was chanting, Light had just baited the boss into another overextension, Dog Breath moved in for a harrying attack.

Lock?

Lock moved.