I sat on the top of the innermost city wall, dangling my feet off the ledge. Fortram looked so picturesque from up here. Entombed by earth, doomed to darkness, but not without a ray of hope; a column of light shone down on the opulent upper ring, a ray of sunlight that filtered through the gap high above. I could almost feel it on my back as I watched the rest of the city churn in the shadows. The middle ring had street lights to get by, gloomy and moody, but the lower ring had almost nothing. They had been relying on the moonlight during the nights. And so now the slums lurked in the dark, watching with envy as the rich basked in the light.

“If I’m going to be hanged for this,” I said to myself, “I want to die knowing that I got at least one good painting out of it.”

I didn’t have any paint with me though, just the sketchbook in my lap and a piece of coal in my hand. I hadn’t drawn anything yet. I was feeling groggy and also a bit hungry. I had slept in the World Seed after royally messing up the entire city, figuring that Seedy’s alternative reality was a good place to hide from my responsibilities. But I woke up eventually and found out that my problems hadn’t been magically solved while I slept.

The shades hadn’t talked to me since yesterday. It seemed weird that they allowed me so much freedom, considering that we had already gathered more than enough energy for them to take control whenever they wanted to. Yet they allowed me to be myself—I could tell this for sure because I had never felt this aimless and uncertain when they influenced my mind.

Perhaps they were saving their murder juice for something big and terrible. Or perhaps they knew that oppressing me would make us feel even more like crap. Although, to be honest, I didn’t feel as bad as I should have felt. I had killed so many people yesterday and I just—I didn’t care. I couldn’t care anymore. My memories were vivid, but my deeds felt like a completely different person’s. Was I getting used to taking another’s life? Was I finally becoming worthy of my Mad Painter title? I didn’t feel particularly villainous today, just … numb.

I grabbed my backpack and put the sketchpad away. I wasn’t in the mood today. As the sketchpad slid into place, I heard something crumple on the bottom of the bag. I rooted around until I found it: a map of the city with markings all over it. It was about that investigation I had done, back when I was working at the bountyhouse.

“I thought I was so clever, didn’t I?”

It had only been about a month since then, yet it felt as if it happened forever ago. I drew pictures of missing people and sorted out paperwork for all kinds of Quests within the city. I started out so cautiously; an unknown Player working an ordinary job, scoping out the city. Simple and safe. Then I bonded with a second shade and became more reckless. Slaughtered a bunch of gangsters and put my name out there, opened a Dungeon right under the city, got into a conflict with just about every major power in the area, and finally converted the entire city into my Dungeon.

Yep, I was screwed.

“Stop feeling so doomed about our prospects. It’s aggravating.”

I blinked, straightening my back. Had I just talked to myself?

“Are you guys ready to talk?” I asked.

They didn’t reply. I wished they had been this shy yesterday when we were busy digging a tunnel into the World Seed.

“Alright then,” I said. They told me not to feel bad, so I supposed I had no other choice. These shades clearly had countless years of experience in cheering people up. I sent some rude thoughts their way.

Eventually, I slid the crumpled map back in the bag. The control crystal lay right next to it. It was the most powerful device in the entire city. My fingers lingered on the small, nondescript item. No—not today. I didn’t care how much trouble Fortram was currently in, I wasn’t going to start reshaping it today. I carefully put the bag away.

An airship flew by and I leaned back a bit to watch its ascent. Long and sleek with plenty of metal, it was an awesome blend of magic and technology. Just how the gods of this world liked it. I was glad that the made-up rules for converting Fortram into a Dungeon allowed us to have a patch of sky; it meant that with careful maneuvering these airships could still leave the city.

In fact, anyone could leave the city. I supposed that was the only reason why the masses weren’t panicking—well, they did panic, but perhaps not as much as they would have otherwise. Fortram’s outermost walls hadn’t sunk with the city, remaining on the surface instead. Permanent portals opened on their own accord, occupying the main gates. Eight in total. It seemed like the Dungeon Core wanted to stick to its established patterns.

So yeah, this probably wasn’t all bad. People of this world were used to all kinds of weird World Seed magic anyway. Still, Fortram-as-Dungeon had a few very obvious problems. Lack of sunlight was one. Limited air above the city was another. Although the smoke had a small hole above to leave through, Fortram was an industrial city and produced a lot of waste. The air would become stale if the smoke wouldn’t be able to escape. Another problem was that the rain wouldn’t fall on the slums, where water was already a scarcity. Some people depended on collecting rainwater, and—

“Aaand I’m back to thinking about the city’s problems.”

I could fix them. Maybe. I didn’t have Dungeon Points for everything, but now that the entire city was the Dungeon, anyone who died here contributed. Hmm. That sounded vaguely villainous, didn’t it?

I sat on the edge of the wall for a long while, my thoughts going in circles. I had plenty of ideas about what to do, but then I kept inadvertently reminding myself of the sheer scale of what I had done, the number of lives I had influenced, the daunting pile of problems I was facing … and I lost hope that I could overcome any of this. It wasn’t really my fault, was it? The shades had done this. If they didn’t want to see Fortram in ruins, they would need to take responsibility. And so I sat on the wall, staring at the city below, listening to the soft and melancholic music.

“Let me guess,” I said. “You got lucky and found me here?”

Stanley finished his song as he flew closer. I noticed that he was holding a different lute than the one he usually played on; this one was made from much finer wood and had golden inlays at the sides. A weapon upgrade, perhaps?

“No luck needed, this time,” Stanley said, landing on the wall. “Everyone can see you sulking up here.”

“Great.”

Stanley landed next to me, sitting cross-legged.

“I have to admit,” he said, “this wasn’t how I imagined it would go.”

“What?”

“We were supposed to have a boys’ night out.”

“Oh, that,” I said. “Crazy night, huh?”

“Definitely, mate! I sang so much. And then I woke up the next day and realized that the city wasn’t where I left it. Talk about the craziest hangovers I’ve ever had!”

I rubbed my eyes tiredly, sighing.

“I went a bit overboard, didn’t I?”

“Was it you?” Stanley asked.

“Oh, it was me doing it. The shades had a hand in this, sure, but it was also just as much me. They swept me up with what they were doing and I didn’t even try to resist.”

Surprisingly, the shades allowed me to talk about it. Stanley watched me in a way that almost looked concerned, choosing his next words carefully.

“I think it’s time for you to meet the other two members of the Meta Gamers.”

I frowned. “The what?”

“Meta Gamers. You know, the Covenant you and I are part of.”

“Oh, right. Forgot about that.”

“Should I remind you what a Covenant is?”

“No need. Not because I remember, but because I have no interest in this Player stuff anyway.”

“Said like a true Meta Gamer! See, I knew you were the right fit for this Covenant.”

“Sure, sure. You were saying something about the other two members?”

“Yes,” Stanley said. “I think you should meet Mantis first. She is a mind mage, so she may be able to help you.”

“Oh,” I said. “I doubt it. Messing with my head doesn’t end well for those who attempt it.”

“Mantis is also my muse. A beautiful ice queen I’m in love with.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks, mate. My love has been unrequited so far, but my hope is unbroken. If you seek help from her, it would be a good excuse for me to see her again.”

I narrowed my eyes at Stanley. He was smiling, but I couldn’t tell whether he was joking or he was actually serious.

“Sure,” I said, turning back to the city. “If it makes you happy, I suppose I can meet her.”

“Happy? She makes me miserable! But I want you to meet her anyway.”

“Enduring so much for me? Wow, you’re such a great friend, Stanley.”

“I know, I know,” he said, nodding along. He paused for a moment. “So … what do you plan to do now? With the city, I mean. Will you rule over Fortram? Kick the Governor in his incompetent ass? Declare yourself Dungeon Master Archgovernor? You can tell me, I won’t judge.”

I sighed, shaking my head.

“I don’t know what the shades think, but I have an idea about how they feel. They have no desire to rule over us pitiful mortals. They don’t care about what happens to Fortram or its people. We’re nothing to them. They—no, we didn’t conquer the city so that we could govern it. It’s a hassle, really. None of us would enjoy it.”

“Aww. Then why did you do this?”

I shrugged. “It’s a way to show everyone that I’m not someone to mess with. It gives my name weight. It elevates the battlefield, raises the stakes, and attracts the attention of the gods—or so I hope.”

Damn, that sounded stupid. I could barely believe I was saying these words. A year ago I would have thought that anyone who claimed such things was … well, mad. Yet here we were, having changed the lives of thousands of people so that ours would get distinguished from the rest.

“Interesting,” Stanley said, choosing the diplomatic synonym for crazy. “So, does this mean that the shades don’t actually want to be the world’s greatest evil overlord?”

“Stop giving them ideas,” I said, smiling ruefully. “Actually—don’t tell Devi I said this, but I don’t think the shades are evil. She’s really set against them, believing that they are malevolent. In my opinion, though? They’re just trying to find their place in the world, much like I do.”

My opinion was, of course, hardly objective. The shades had proven time and time again that they could manipulate my thoughts and influence what I felt. It was a possibility that these were exactly the thoughts that they wanted me to think. I didn’t care. It felt better to think of them this way than to consider them as evil beings corrupting my soul.

“That sounded almost poetic,” Stanley said. He played a few stray notes on his new lute, then gestured at the city below us. “But the people won’t be very touched by it, I think. You sort of sunk the entire city underground while searching for your place in the world.”

“Oh, dang. I was hoping that no one would notice.”

“Well, I did. So call me a detective but I’m reasonably sure that the truth will get out eventually.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I need to figure out what to do with this mess.”

“Right.”

“Is this the part where you encourage me to do my best? Where you dissolve my doubts with a few well-spoken words? Something that fills me with determination?”

“Do your best, mate!”

I sighed again. “You’re such a great friend, Stanley.”

“I know,” Stanley said, grinning. “You can thank me later. For now, as your good friend, I’d like to warn you that we’re about to have company.”

He pointed at the bottom of the wall where a distant figure was scaling the vertical surface without any equipment. He was slamming his hands into the stone so hard that he needed no handholds. A black substance coated both of his hands and arms, connecting around his torso. If I squinted just right, I could see the black material ripple and shift with a hint of orange glow.

“Hmm. That’s annoying.”

I opened my collar’s menu and navigated to my Quests tab to check a specific entry.

Shades of the Moon

Description: Seven shadebound Players arose and Nerilia has become a world much too small for them. The time has come to prove their worth. Only one may be left standing beneath the Moon!

Objective: Be the only shadebound alive.

Reward: A conversation with your Inspector and a small favor. Shadebound Players remaining:

Amelie

Location: south from Deep Lake

Kadir

Olga

Randel, the Mad Painter

Location: Fortram

Ryder

Location: Fortram

Tanaka

Location: near Skyward

Victor, the Monster

Location: the ruins of Summerville

“Maybe this Ryder guy just wants to chat over a cup of tea,” I said. “What do you think, Stanley? I think it’s possible.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, navigating to my Abilities panel to check my newest Ability.

Shadeform, level 2

Description: Become incorporeal when harm would befall on you. Triggers automatically. Number of charges increases by level.

Cost: 1 charge

Cooldown: Restore all charges at night, when the Moon is the highest up on the sky.

Number of charges: 2/2

Shadeform had leveled up during yesterday’s fight, which meant that now it would save my butt twice in a row. It was nice to know that each level of the Ability got me one extra life. I’d feel much safer once I maxed it out at level 10, but that would require using the Ability in ways that put my safety at risk. Avoid death regularly, just so I could avoid death even more regularly. I felt I was getting really good at it.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” I told Stanley. “We should discuss what to do with the city. How about this afternoon? Can you meet up with me and the others in the control room?”

“Sure, sure. Randel, that big fellow has almost climbed all the way up. Shouldn’t we introduce ourselves?”

Big fellow? He reached the top of the wall just a few steps away from me, pulling himself up with seemingly no effort. He looked big indeed, in a jacked bodybuilder kind of way. His long, dirty hair obscured his bearded face until he shook his head to get the stray locks out of his eyes. As he straightened up, I got a better look at his ragged clothes and at the black metal around his arms and chest. A glowing gemstone was embedded above his heart and orange veins spread out of it every time he moved.

“Ryder, I presume?”

The man let out a growl, standing still, his dark eyes flickering between Stanley and me. From the way he stood, it seemed obvious that something was very wrong with him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as if trying to figure out how to speak.

“R-R-Randellll … we, WE challenge youuu…”

“Randel, go!” I said, giving Stanley’s shoulder a push. “Fly, you fool! Don’t let him catch you! Escape, and meet me later!”

“Oh no!” Stanley said, floating up and away. He even looked reasonably scared. “I’m a coward and I don’t want to die. Noo!”

He tumbled in the air as he flew off, almost dropping his lute. Ryder howled in fury and almost jumped off the wall to follow Stanley. Almost. He froze on the ledge, nose turned up, sniffing the air. His head then swiveled back to me.

“Y-youu…”

“Wow,” I said. “Has your shade possessed a wolf in its previous life?”

I tried not to show it, but I felt terribly disturbed by the man facing me—if he even could be called a man at this point. Ryder looked like a wild, untamed beast in the skin of a man. Would he be willing to negotiate at all? I had secretly hoped that I could dodge this ridiculous deathmatch that the Inspectors forced on me, but now it seemed … well, more difficult. It seemed as if Ryder barely remembered how to speak.

“Challenge!” he bellowed, unwilling to entertain my question. The black metal around his hands shifted, fingers extending into long claws.

“Sure, challenge,” I said, still sitting on the wall. “You know what? You can name the place and I will name the game. I’m thinking about a painting challenge, though we could do traditional drawing too if that’s what you prefer.”

Those were apparently too many words for Ryder to interpret, because he froze again. Curious. Had the shades broken him that badly? How many of them had he captured with his dagger? Well, it wasn’t exactly a dagger at the moment. A shifting mass of black carapace. I could have done the same with Soul Eater too, except my weapon would not be able to cover such a large area. It would have also required too much mental effort to keep shifting it as my body moved, which … could actually explain Ryder’s mental state.

“Challenge!”

“Dude, I appreciate your chivalry. You want a proper match instead of just attacking me, I get it. But listen, how about we try to talk it out first? I don’t think we should give the Inspectors the satisfaction of beating each other to death.

“Beat! We beat youuu! To the death!”

I rubbed my temples, getting frustrated.

“Shades, please,” I said. “Can I have a word with Ryder? I feel like this is going nowhere.”

“No shades. Just we. We, we, we, WE! Soul Seeker. We are Soul Seeker.”

“Isn’t that the name of your weapon?”

“We are—weapon.”

“I see. Well, that’s sad.”

I turned away from Ryder, looking directly down below my feet. The streets were clear. I put my backpack on.

“Fight us!” Ryder growled. “Kill—we’ll kill you, and become the—the strongest.”

“Yeah, about that,” I said. “Sorry, but I have a busy schedule. No time to die, this time.”

“Fight—”

“See you later!”

I pushed myself off the ledge and began to fall. Ryder howled behind me, but I kept my eyes on the rapidly approaching street below. I also put my hands in my pockets to look cooler. I was dropping frighteningly fast. At the end of the fall, I took a deep breath and fell through the ground as our Shadeform Ability phased us partway to the Astral Plane. Our surroundings were still, dark, and suffocating. We moved our incorporeal form without moving. Physics didn’t matter here—only our will did. We willed ourselves to float through the earth, our senses blind but our memories intact; we knew precisely where we had to go. It was a truth, and so even on its boundary the Astral Plane ensured that our truth became reality.

It took us only a few seconds to find one of the Dungeon’s many corridors and return fully to the Waking World again. From there, it took me a few more minutes to arrive at the Refuge and find Tora. I didn’t know why but I felt much more fired up by that point. More motivated. Perhaps my little chat with Stanley did help, in the end. Or perhaps it was the adrenaline of almost falling to my death and then flying through the ground like a ghost.

I found Tora outside his new home; a large stone house that Maa’s children currently lived in. Tora was talking to Imaya of all people, but they both fell silent when they saw me. I grabbed the control crystal from my backpack and tossed it at Imaya.

“Catch!”

“H-Hey—!” Imaya squeaked and fumbled and almost dropped the crystal as she caught it. She held it close to her chest and glared at me while I walked closer to Tora and dropped to one knee to be at eye level with him.

“Tora, I need your help. Could you pass on a message to a few specific people?”

“Uh, okay,” he replied, his whiskers twitching. “What about?”

“About the city, of course,” I said. “I’m going to gather up the crew for a big meeting and beg them to help me. I’ll also apologize for being a jerk, if I have to. It’ll be fun, just wait and see! And then, once the fun is over, we’ll decide what the future of Fortram will be.”