The teapot shrieked, and the Emperor picked it up with his bare hands.

“It has been some time since I have had good company,” he said. “Not that my subjects are troublesome, no, quite the opposite. But they treat me with a bit too much reverence. Do you know they built this place for me?”

The palace was resplendent, with stone walls and long halls, and every inch was filled full of art and treasure and luxury. Gilded and bejweled bird automatons sung in lacquered cages. Tapestries and paintings and wall scrolls covered every vertical surface. Bubbling streams carved into the very floors and halls wandered among the structure, with crystal-clear water washing over jade and pearls and nuggets of gold.

The throne room that sat in the center of it was the height of opulence, illuminated by high skylights, and with animal constructs of all varieties kneeling before it, all the beasts of the Porcelain Kingdoms represented paying fealty to the Emperor.

But the construct of a man had led them past it without a backwards glance, to an inner courtyard, barely big enough for the pond that filled nine tenths of its space. The other tenth was filled by an open air forge, with a small cabin— barely more than a shack, attached to it. The glimpse that Rich had caught through the open door revealed tools, and mannequin parts, and puppets on strings, and other things you'd find in a toymaker's workshop.

Then the Emperor had bustled out with the teapot and a few bags, dipped it straight into the pond water, and built a small fire just beyond the reeds.

It was a little cramped, but Rich coiled himself as best he could, and accepted the teacup gingerly, trying not to shatter the delicate ceramic shell.

WorldwarpR took his cup with less care, and sipped. The Emperor watched him, as the elderly Jumper's eyebrows shot up into the goggles he'd pushed up on his forehead. “This is great stuff!”

“Is it? Thank you! Do you taste the ginseng more or the honey? I have been trying to get the balance right for centuries. But it is hard. My memory of tastes is troublesome, and my tongue is not what it once was. It is the hardest sense to test. Everyone is different, you see.”

Rich tried the tea, lapping at it with the edge of his tongue. It was a little tricky, until he used his reflection in the pond to coordinate. But once he got a taste, the effort was more than worth it. It tasted like someone had converted a warm spring day into liquid and poured it into a cup, with both sweetness and bitterness so perfectly balanced that every time he concentrated on one flavor it fled, leaving only the other behind.

“I... don't have that refined a palate,” said WorldwarpR. “It reminds me of very mellow mead. Uh, without the alcohol, I guess.”

“If you're looking for perfect balance, I think you've got it,” Rich said. “Assuming the ginseng is the bitter that I'm tasting, here.”

“Perfect? Ah, no. Nothing is quite perfect.” The Emperor frowned, his bushy Santa-Claus-like eyebrows twitching like cotton puffs. “If you taste bitter, that is likely the herbs. I have made the ginseng too subtle, it should mask the bitterness, turn it to pure heat.”

“I am fire resistant,” Rich offered. “Perhaps that skews my taste?”

“Not that sort of heat,” the Emperor shook his head, his eyebrows un-puffing. “I am thankful for your answer. This shall help me get it right.” he took a sip himself, then nodded in apparent satisfaction.

He looked up again as WorldwarpR whispered “Detect Anomaly.”

“Ah, is that what brought you here?” The Emperor wondered.

“Warper...” Rich put a cautionary claw on the player's shoulder. “Sorry, we should have asked before using skills here.”

“You should have, but you may. There is nothing you can do here that I cannot undo, should I choose,” the Emperor shrugged. “Or if there is, I welcome the challenge.”

Rich studied the man. Truly studied him.

Was he wax? He had nose hairs. The ones Rich could see were all slightly different. His eyes were expressive and as lifelike as any fleshy orbs Rich had ever looked into. The wrinkles on his face were exactly where they should be.

He was very, very lifelike. But he was not flesh. There was no heartbeat in his chest, Rich was certain now, after spending this small amount of time sitting with him.

Some part of him wanted the Emperor to be real. The man reminded Rich of his grandfather, a person he hadn't thought of in a very long time. Quiet, patient, and simply happy for the company. The Emperor brought to mind the smells of coffee and bacon on a cold morning, a cracked voice reading a story at bedtime, and the creaking noises of an old house that wasn't your own, but was a home nonetheless.

“Occult Eye,” Rich finally spoke.

The Emperor's eyebrows rose slightly.

“Ah... the trick of the daemon scholar,” he said, and sipped his tea. “Do refrain from calling them here. I would have to return them to their hell. Some guests are not welcome unless they have specific business, you understand.”

“I do not deal with daemons,” Rich said, studying him, then looking around.

There were lines, invisible lines of energy throughout every inch of the courtyard, intersecting in geometric patterns that centered upon the pond. They squiggled about when they got to the cabin, going into designs that obviously had significance, though he couldn't say how.

The Emperor sat aligned perfectly to one of these lines, and they danced and traced throughout his form, coalescing at different points from his groin to the crown of his head. They were almost pure white, though hints of a rainbow of colors danced in sequence up and down each almost spherical point.

“That is good,” the Emperor spoke. “Daemons are very much foes of harmony. And heaven is harmony. At least this one is, anyway.”

“You have a lot of heavens?” WorldwarpR asked. “Also this pond is way more than a pond, Rich.”

“We have a lot of hells, so we need a lot of heavens. We had extra space to work with, after the daemons made their war upon our gods. It was up to us to decide what they should be. Well...” the Emperor sipped from his cup, then stared into it. “Up to me, in the end. It would have been messy, otherwise. People needed to agree. It is why I brought everyone together.”

For a second his tone held a note of sorrow. For a moment, his face was wistful. Then conviction filled his eyes, and he returned his gaze to his guests. “You did not come here simply for the tea.”

“No. But it is very good tea,” Rich assured him.

“Then you may ask what questions you have. And I will answer, in the manner that best serves my empire. I will ask you to be as respectful as you can, while understanding that you are foreign, and strangers to our ways. Does this sound agreeable?”

“It does,” Rich bowed his head, and finished his tea, placing the cup back on the grass. “We are grateful for any answers you can give us.”

“Well, wait until you have them before you thank me,” the Emperor stood. “Ask and we shall see what is worth answering.”

WorldwarpR pointed at the pond. “What is that?” he asked, before Rich could get his mouth open.

“It is a pond. But under it is a hole in the world. The daemons made this, long ago, when they warred upon the heavens.” The Emperor's eyes turned misty. “It was a great battle. You came through the gardens, yes? They are to honor the dead who fell so that the daemons could not slay a god.”

“Konol,” Rich said.

“Ko No,” the Emperor nodded. “The martyr whose back holds the pillars of the world.”

“Martyr or sacrifice?” Rich countered.

“Wait, what the hell is this?” WorldwarpR breathed. “You got lore you've been holding out on me?”

“Not the time, man,” Rich muttered.

“Time was never the problem,” the Emperor said, taking a sip of tea and glancing between them. “Though it may be the solution.”

“What was that?” Rich asked.

“Only a thought. But you have more questions, I suppose?”

“You know about Konol's death. I need to find the dragons who betrayed him.”

“Then you have a hard search ahead of you. None remain in this world.”

“They're dead?” Rich burst out.

“I did not say that.”

“Then where are they?”

“You are asking things that I cannot speak of with certainty. Look to the very young for guidance on this matter, waste no time with the old.” demurred the Emperor. “Have you asked Konol? The lines of chi drawing you to him are plain to my eyes, especially here, in the heart of my power.”

“Can we see him?” Rich asked. “If I pass through the gate, then I can ask him directly. He can speak plainly, when we share the same reality.”

WorldwarpR's face was slowly filling with fury. Rich had no idea why. Nor did he have time to address it.

“No,” the Emperor shook his head. “You know what waits on the other side of the gate, now. I can not risk it entering this place. It would disrupt too many of my works, and disturb my host.”

“Your host?”

The Emperor smiled. “You know the nature of dragon eggs, do you not?”

WorldwarpR made a choked noise.

“This is important, Warper,” Rich hissed. “Yes. Sorry, Emperor, yes. This is within one, right?”

“It is a dream within a dream.” The Emperor spoke. “And Ko No was the god of dreams. He could have told you that. Even now, as he is.”

Rich sat, stunned.

Why had he never asked Konol what his domain was?

Why had that never been a thing?

The Emperor put his teacup down again. “I think you have much to do. I believe you can help with this matter, but I see you have no idea of what must be done. When you do, return here. And we shall see if you can save your god.”

“Yes. Thank you Emperor— wait,” Rich said. “Will we have to pass through the challenges again?”

“I will show you to a guest chamber. There is a statue there, that your companion may use as a waystone. So long as you do not bring an army into my palace, you shall not risk my displeasure.”

Rich took a breath. “Okay. That's fair. I...” he paused. “This is going to sound strange. But do you know anything about drakkits or draggits?”

The Emperor lifted one cloudlike eyebrow. “I do not know those words.”

“Never mind then. Thank you for your hospitality and patience.”

“You are welcome. Come, I shall show you to the chamber, then I trust you can see yourself out.”

WorldwarpR was silent, save for a muttered “Create Greater Waystone,” after tapping one of the larger statues in the guest chamber. He was silent as Rich intoned “Divine Transit,” and the world faded around them as they returned to the entry chamber.

Only then did he stride forward, and shake a finger in Rich's face. “You've been holding out on me, you rat bastards!”

“I... what?” Rich said. “Hold on now. I don't understand why you're angry.”

“One rule. I had one rule, when I signed on with your operation, here. I get full access to any and all lore we collect. Full transparency.”

“Oh. Oh shit. Okay, I see why you're upset,” Rich said. “I didn't know about that bargain. I wasn't consulted on it.”

“I spoke directly to Pat about it.”

Inwardly Rich wondered what the hell Pat had been thinking. They'd both been through infosec training at Waverly Academy. There were things that they just couldn't share with everyone in the guild.

“What if I told you,” Rich said, speaking slowly, “that this information would have real world consequences. Serious ones. Life or death ones.”

“I'd tell you that I was brought on board with the understanding that I'd be trusted, and that I was a grown-ass adult fully capable of keeping secrets. Just like the other two people who lost their main sets of gear to get you up to that Emperor guy.”

“You have a point, but I need to check with Pat and figure out how much I can safely tell you,” said Rich. “And I'll need you to swear an oath of secrecy on everything we talked about up there. Seriously, this has the potential to kill people if it leaks.”

“Won't do any good,” WorldwarpR shook his head. “Cat's out of the bag.”

“What?”

“Vae and Blackbinder wanted to see the end of the dungeon, so I've been sending them a realtime recording of my feed. Smile, you're on camera.”

Rich's eyes went wide. Oh no. Oh fuck no. No no no.

“Vae streams her dungeon runs,” he said, helplessly. “I was going to tell her to kill her feed, but she died before that... oh no.”

WorldwarpR blinked. “What? She does? Fuck, why didn't you tell me!”

“I thought you knew!” A wave of rage pounded through Rich's head. “You asshole! This could mean the death of...”

A message flashed before him.

Incoming Message From: Patrick Bayer

>>Rich, log off! We're under attack IRL!