When the world around her refocused into something approaching normal sensation, Sláine immediately grabbed for the wall and, finding that it had an unpleasantly organic texture, instead dropped to her knees.

While she wasn’t one to put things so crassly, Red’s question of why she wasn’t ‘flipping her shit’ had honestly been a pretty valid one. Yora’s brief mention of their systems being ‘compatible’ seemed absurd given that nothing she’d encountered in Arpege was been anything like her home. Maybe her aloofness had been a way to grasp for some kind of security in a world that was fast, loud, and had priorities that seemed vastly opposed to everything she’d ever known. Her people concerned themselves with legends, with individuality, with weaving a tapestry of great deeds that hung over a mantle of trophies of glories won. Every person had a title, a history, a legacy of battles cut into their skin that flowers bloomed from when they healed.

Humans turned all that into a calculation. A mathematical problem that, when solved, determined one’s [ Class ] and [ Skills ].

And it made them strong.

Far, far stronger than most anyone else, so she’d deal with this, and just press her hand tighter to her mouth as she tried not to vomit.

“Damn cottontail - you alright?”

“I am… fine,” she managed through gritted teeth, pushing herself up to her feet. Red observed her with crossed arms, and Sláine stared down at her, just daring her to make a shitty comment.

“We’ll give it a second. All of your molecules were just rearranged and put back into place somewhere else; it’s total hell on the stomach.”

“I said that I am fine,” she snapped, not wanting to look weak in front of anyone - but especially Red, before forcing her legs to work as she strode forward. “Let’s go. I want to hit something.”

Behind her, Red sighed. “Well, can’t argue with a [ Berserker ]. Okay kid, lead the way.”

She trudged onwards, her pace increasing as the sickness slowly abated.

There was no other way to say it - this place was gross. Once these tunnels had been used to carry water, but the metal walls had since been covered in a yellowish-brown… gunk peppered with uneven clusters of holes and divets. They reminded her of insect hives she’d seen in her homeland, and in the distance, she could hear the scuttling of legs underneath the slow drip, drip of water. Had she been a weaker person, she might have turned tail and ran there. There were some things in this world that simply had too many legs. As it was, she simply gripped onto her axe, the weight of it in her hand providing her a solid sense of comfort.

It’d help to know what this stuff was; what she was going to be facing exactly. If she’d been able to get a grasp on [ Inspection ], Sláine may have been able to deduce the answer without running the risk of asking Red. She considered simply remaining silent, but she had astoundingly good hearing and couldn’t detect anything immediately nearby - so the only danger was having to actually talk to her mentor.

“Is there anything I should know?” She asked quietly, and Red scoffed from behind her. She seemed completely content to let Sláine take the lead, which she actually quite appreciated. It didn’t take snooping into her statistics to know she was much more durable than Red was; time had tested her and found her nigh-impossible to kill.

“Stick with me, kill stuff, and do whatever I tell you to. This isn’t going to be a hard job, sweetheart - we’re just here to scout out how bad the infestation is.”

Sláine hummed to herself in assent. Despite figuring that Red was paying attention to… whatever they needed to do here, she tried to keep track of her surroundings in case she also had to participate in the report. While she had no context behind any of her analysis, things in the dungeon seemed ‘bad’ but not ‘too bad’. Small insects scuttled at their feet, scurrying back into the holes of their dens, but nothing currently suggested a bigger problem. Idly, she tried once more to use [ Inspection ] on her surroundings.

No luck. That tingle she’d gotten before when accessing her own statistics wasn’t happening.

“Red,” she asked suddenly, glancing back at her. “Were you born here?”

The woman - whose pace was unnaturally quiet, Sláine couldn’t help but note - responded without hesitation. “Wow, not even being subtle about asking if I’m human. Why?”

Her brow furrowed. “I didn’t mean it like that. You said before that most people could use [ System Commands ]” - Pause to shudder - “Without even thinking about it. Did you have to learn how to do it?”

Silence. She watched as Red cocked her head, then turned her attention back to her surroundings as she waited for her reply. After a good twenty feet had passed, Sláine figured she wasn’t going to say anything more, but as they came to an intersection, Red finally spoke up.

“I did. What, you want tips or something?”

“I was wondering if there was an easier way to do all this, yes.”

Red paused again - probably not pleased about having to explain what must seem like elementary knowledge - when one of Sláine’s ears perked as she looked down the leftmost tunnel. In the dark chasm, she detected a more prominent shuffling, like a bulbous body being dragged across the ground, and the back of her neck prickled in an instinctual warning of danger. Ah - there it was. That sounded like something to fight.

[ Congratulations, Perceive Threat has reached Level 2! :D ]

Hah, well that confirmed that, she supposed. Before Red could answer her question - or even respond to the way she’d tensed up - Sláine rushed on ahead, taking the left-most tunnel in source of the ominous skittering. It was best to make things quick, she thought. Get right into the thick of things, and she’d never been one for sneaking.

“Wuh - hey, you!” She heard Red snap out behind her, but the protestations went ignored. She could follow or she could stay behind; Sláine would be fine on her own. This, at the very least, she knew how to do.

If Sláine heard the way she grumbled what did I literally just say?, she made no comment.

>> Look for trouble.