Dean dashed away towards the surface, exiting the tunnel at a breakneck pace, leaving even Virigard trailing behind. "Virigard, go back," he called out.

"But Dean, why does the Church need our help?" she asked, her spherical, black eyes fathomless.

Dean regarded her warmly. "‘Cuz it's hard for even gods to fight monsters," he explained.

"Oh, okay," Virigard nodded. "Makes sense. And how are we gonna help?"

"Well," Dean began, pulling out his chip reader. "I guess it's time to try this stuff out." He activated the chip reader, pulling it from one of his back pockets. He fumbled for a moment, still unfamiliar with the controls; however, his plethora of teacher boons still gave him an edge in figuring the alien technology out. "Fartuun," he called out. Lacking the dial tone or delay of any human-designed calling service, Dean was startled by Fartuun's immediate reply.

"Oh, Dean; you've started using the chip reader? Excellent, excellent!" she called out. Dean felt a bit woozy as he listened: the difference between Fartuun's elegant Arabic and broken English and her artificially-generated English was striking. He knew it was her on an intellectual level, but his instincts were telling him he was speaking to another person entirely.

"Yeah, it's useful," he replied helplessly. "That's not why I'm calling, though."

Fartuun's snickered playfully. "Yes, yes, always so busy. What do you need? I'm quite busy establishing an engineering task force within Whitesun to address the 'space gate' problem."

Dean tsked. Forgot all about that, he thought. What planet is that on again? The second one after Illudis, right?

"Oh, before you ask your question, I have one of my own: how is the performance of the upgraded thought-to-text software?"

"Uh, it's very useful," he replied, his voice hesitant. "I use it all the time."

Fartuun clucked. "Confidence, little Dean. Was it useful or not?"

Dean looked confusedly towards Virigard, who simply shrugged. "I just said it was useful," he repeated.

"Of course, mhm. So, your question?"

"There's a stretch of composite rock that I need to bore through. I have a metal drill that can be fixed onto the body of a vehicle. Think you can make it happen?"

Fartuun clucked again, only louder. "Really, Dean, I tell you every time to give me specifics."

"Didn't I?" he protested, nostrils flaring slightly.

"No."

Virigard concealed a laugh. "I bet she's crossing her arms right now," she whispered fiendishly, aggravating Dean's already annoyed self.

"Fartuun, what do you need to know?" Despite his annoyance, if Dean knew how to do anything, it was to keep his cool. Definitely don't want...incidents, he thought, grimacing internally at the memory of smashing in a wall at Alens. Incidents when you're as strong as I am won't end well.

"First, why...?"

"Why what?"

"You're supposed to be intelligent," Fartuun muttered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Why do we need to burrow into the Earth?"

"Why not just use a quasi snake or jerboa?" she said, clarifying. "Why use a drill?"

"It's special, self-healing, jab-resistant rock," Dean explained. "Jerboa's don't leave a lasting mark, and I doubt snakes can do much better."

"Oh, really? So a drill can do what super-powered quasi-sapients can't?"

"It's a really powerful drill," Dean argued, sighing. "To answer what I assume will be your other questions: One, how far do we need to dig? An indeterminate distance, perhaps more than a few miles. Two, how can we attach the drill? Don't worry about it. Three, how big does the created tunnel need to be? Big enough to fit two humans and a jerboa."

The first thing to escape Fartuun's mouth was, "Oh, two humans?"

"Yes; does it matter?"

"I suppose not," she sighed. "You're no fun, Knight."

"This is kind of urgent," he insisted. "I really need to make this work."

"Why don't I come out and investigate the rock myself?"

"Um," Dean looked back towards the tunnel. "Could you? I thought you said you were busy..."

"Bah, I can make time for COTD's Knight." Dean heard rustling over the line. "Where are you now?"

Dean's expression was dumbstruck. She's coming in person?

"I'm by--" he closed his mouth. "You're tracking my position, aren't you?" he accused.

"Guilty as charged," she laugh-cackled.

Dean cracked a grin. "Hurry over."

"Yes, Knight," Fartuun said as she terminated the connection. Dean's eyes suddenly turned hard; he looked back toward the tunnel, then started racing into its depths. Once again, he was back by Lisa and the tunnel's dead end wall.

"You need to leave," he bellowed, slightly out of breath from his all-out sprint. "Just for a few minutes."

Lisa's expression darkened. "Wait, why the hell do I need to leave?"

Dean shot her a pained look. "I don't want your reputation to take a hit," he hissed, counting down the seconds until Virigard caught up. "One of my trusted leaders is coming to take a look at the wall and devise a better way to drill into it. Until she leaves, you should probably stay out of sight."

"Oh." Lisa's countenance fell. “That's thoughtful of you," she murmured, clearly dejected.

Why can't I ever do anything right, even with all my social boons!? Dean fumed. "It probably doesn't matter," he added, "though it might be hard to explain why COTD's Church needs help burrowing into spongy, flesh-like ground."

"No, you're right," she replied. "I'll be back as soon as she leaves. I'll know," she said, pointing to her head.

"Dean, stop rushing off like that!" Virigard blurted, darting into the range of Lisa's flaming hand.

"Not my fault you're so slow," he teased, simultaneously shooting Lisa a pointed look.

"I'm going to check something out," she said, "so wait for my return." She began to walk forward, putting on a deceptively large amount of speed as she progressed.

It looks like she's walking, but she's moving nearly as fast as me, Dean realized. The hell kind of boon is that?

"Awe, Her Radiance left~" Virigard sighed. "She's coming back, right?"

Dean nodded, patting Virigard's head. "Yep."

"Hey, don't poke my eye out!" she growled cutely, recoiling under Dean's hand.

"Sorry, I can't see in pitch darkness," he grumbled. "You got ears made for this kind of environment; me, I just got my hands."

"Can't you make your ears better?" Virigard pouted.

"Yeah, but it's pretty hard to improve on what I already have without restructuring my ears," he snorted. "What do you think: could I pull off jerboa ears?" I'd never live that down, ever. Jerboa ears, alone, would be nigh indistinguishable from rabbit ears. All hail Knight, Earth's bunny commander.

Just then, Fartuun's voice echoed through the tunnel, announcing her arrival. "Dean?"

"Here," he called back.

"I dislike tunnels," Fartuun grumbled, her footfalls heavy in the darkness as she gracelessly continued forward. "Dean, this shows my loyalty, yes?"

"Without a doubt."

Fartuun smirked; her straight, black hair swished over her shoulders, her bangs motionless over her dark, dilated eyes. As she reached Dean's exact location, she powered on a portable floodlight.

"Ugh!" Dean and Virigard called out in unison, their pupils rapidly constricting in the harsh light.

"Is it this discolored rock, here?" she asked, pointing to the plane of the spongy rock.

"Yes," Dean replied.

"Hmm." Fartuun's African-print garb flashed garishly in the light, its loose fabric draping over her shoulders. She pulled a device from a sack fastened around her waist, placing it against the wall. "This is a fun little device that's still in the approval stage," Fartuun explained. "Detects biological matter, takes its DNA, all kinds of useful things. It also has a mineral composition analyzer."

Dean cocked his head. "Is it a portable spectrometer?" he asked.

Fartuun chuckled. "No, those are far too cumbersome; it will take more than a handful of months to condense them down to pocket size." She continued to shift the device's position, pressing it up against the wall at odd angles. "This is strange," she murmured, squinting.

Then, as though realizing something, she spun around, eyes gleaming.

"Dean," she intoned, "is this wall alive?"

"Um, maybe," he gulped.

"It's actually a giant monster!" Virigard interjected nobly. "Dean got a personal quest from the Church to kill it!"

Dean glanced at Virigard out of the corner of his eye. Subtle, Viri.

"Of course he did," Fartuun sighed, raising her hands in defeat. Her gaze sharpened as she asked, "Just what kind of monster...is made of rock?"

"The kind that has a giant shell," Dean answered flatly. "That's why I need to find a way to burrow through the material and reach the central, vulnerable part of the monster."

"It's called a tortus, by the way," Virigard muttered, feeling neglected.

"How interesting; a tortoise fungus hybrid monster?"

Dean's eyes narrowed, his jaw dropping in incredulity. "Wait, what?"

"Yep, pretty much," Virigard replied. "How'd you guess?"

Fartuun looked at the jerboa quizzically. "It wasn't difficult. But perhaps...How do you spell tortus in English?"

"T-O-R-T-U-S," Dean replied, catching on. "How about in Arabic?"

"S-A-L-I-H-A-F-A-T-A-R."

Dean looked at her blankly. "Okay, well, that's good to know, I guess."

"It's a mix of salihafa and fatar," she explained, stating the entire sentence in English. "Ah, that worked, didn't it?"

Dean nodded. "Learning Arabic was not waste after all," he added, speaking in butchered Arabic.

Fartuun gave him a small, playfully-mocking smile. "But truly, do you have this creature's identity in our chip readers' encyclopedia?"

"Yeah, hold on," he said, whipping his chip reader out. "Tortus..."

"Heavens," Fartuun grimaced. "It is abominable. Tell me; what does the encyclopedia page say about it?" As Fartuun was still occupied with analyzing the tortus' outer layer, she didn't have a free hand to use her chip reader.

"It says...It's a species native to a planet at the center of the universe. Apparently it's highly valued for its ability to lure in a dangerous creature called a Doom, whatever that means."

"Oh? That must be why this planet has one. Sounds a lot like fighting fire with fire to me," she opined.

"Let's see...they usually rest atop land in isolated areas, such as mountain crags or deep canyons. They internalize rock into themselves, increasing their mass over time; while above land, their..." Dean grimaced, "succulent, fragrant flesh attracts any wandering Doom." He shook his head. "That word...It's so unhelpful."

"Yes, I agree; it's just as useless in Arabic," she replied. "What on Earth is a Doom?"

"I'll look it up later. The next part is important" He paused to skim the text for its most useful parts. "So, after several thousand years, though no less than twenty-thousand years, torti enter a period of suspended animation. They crawl beneath--into--the earth, holing up until they eventually die after a few million years or so."

He gave Fartuun a knowing look. "I'm not sure why, but the one beneath this mountain caused the tremor you must have felt half an hour ago. Maybe it's awakening because of the city-seed."

Fartuun nodded slowly. "This would make sense. I think I have an idea for how to drill into this rock. Actually, as luck would have it, a team of engineers has just filed a design for approval...If it works here, I'll consider it a success."

Dean's mouth quirked. "How long will it take to bring that invention here?"

"Oh," Fartuun cocked her head, "I believe it's already arrived." She smiled, stating, "I'm nothing if not prepared, Knight."

Dean snorted. "I can't deny that. Virigard, let's get the...invention."

The two of them returned two minutes later with a cylindrical plastic-metal object that looked, if anything, like a shortened version of the magma-torpedos used to reach Gray Land and Illudis, respectively. The two of them tugged the vessel over, Virigard's tiny arms comically latching on to the shuttle's exterior, her form actually adding more, if minimal, weight for Dean to pull.

"This is it?" he asked warily. "It looks just like one of the vessels we used to traverse Gray Land's gates."

Fartuun shook her head, her green earrings jangling. "This is a fork project from the same consortium of engineers," she explained, "and so, unsurprisingly, the bodice looks the same. This guy, however, is specifically made to drill into rock. If you go inside of it and activate the controls, you'll see what I mean."

Dean gave the ship a dubious once over before pressing the green "open" button on its exterior. An air-tight door disengaged, popping up to let a limited number of passengers inside. The inside of the craft also mirrored that of the magma-crossing vessel, so Dean had no difficulty climbing into the driving seat. The screen in front of the controls was dominated by a live-feed from a camera mounted in the hull, allowing him to see Fartuun's figure by the wall.

Virigard, unsurprisingly, had boarded the ship with him, and was currently inspecting its interior.

"How do I work it?" Dean asked, elevating his voice so that Fartuun could still hear it from beyond.

"Dean~" Virigard whined, clutching her ears.

"Turn on the ignition," Fartuun instructed.

"Ignition..." Dean pressed another large, green button to the right of the twin steering joysticks. "Wait, what's happening?" he boomed, somewhat alarmed by the crunching sound under the ship...and the fact that it was beginning to rapidly descend in place. Dean wasted no time in directing the joystick forward, preventing them from losing altitude in one location.

"According to the mineral composition of the wall, you should be able to cut through. However, I'm not sure about what's beyond that."

Dean directed the ship towards the dead end wall, killing the ignition as he approached its surface. He popped open the door and stepped out, Virigard following immediately behind.

"You aren't going now?" Fartuun asked, confused.

"Soon; Virigard and I have to discuss strategy first. You should return back to the space gate task force." His tone contained an authoritative air that made this suggestion into a command.

What is he hiding? Fartuun wondered, aware that Dean was effectively shoeing her away. Nevertheless, she fought against her nature and smiled. "Of course, Knight." She exited the cave, leaving Virigard and Dean alone. Only around thirty seconds after her departure, Lisa reentered the tunnel and reestablished contact with the duo.

"Any relevant developments?" she asked, looking between the two of them.

Virigard, proud that Lisa was paying her some attention, stood up straight and reported, "We have acquired a specialized digging torpedo, which, I can attest, may comfortably sit four!"

Recalling the inside of the ship, Dean could only grace Lisa with a tiny, knowing smirk. Sure, it fits four if one of the passengers is a jerboa...

"Wow, that's pretty epic," she nodded. "Actually, I might not need my drill until we reach the second layer..."

"Second layer?" Dean echoed. "You found information about it?"

Lisa nodded. "The first layer is spongy, like you see here. The second layer is rubbery, while the third and final layer is fleshy. The second layer will prove the biggest challenge, and will probably slow us down the most."

"Makes sense," Dean replied. "So, are we ready to go?"

Lisa crossed her arms, placing a hand upon her chin. "Well, I suppose so. The ship solves the problem of insufficient air and increasing pressure as we proceed further underground." She walked toward the craft, pressing the green button on its exterior. As the main door slid open, Lisa turned around and grinned. "We've already delayed enough; let's go!"