Blackthorne crept along the cliff at the edge of the cavern slowly. Numerous open gashes crisscrossed his back and forearms. His life force long gone, he struggled onward in the hopes of finding a path back into the light.

Without the sun to tell him the truth, he had no actual idea how long he'd been underground. As of yet, he had not woken up, so he guessed that only a few hours had passed in the waking world.

"This place is brutal," he whispered to himself with a slight hiss.

Before he could lament his current fate further, a slight moan reached him. He dodged back instinctively and narrowly avoided the downward swipe of a long desiccated hand.

The noise made by the undead adventurer granted Blackthorne a faint inkling of where it was due to his ability to utilize echolocation. However, its lack of temperature and coloration made it easily blend into the background of the cavern. His heat vision was useless as the creature was the same temperature as its surroundings, and it gave off no life force to measure with his other senses. The only time he could 'see' the undead in total darkness was when they made a noise.

In truth, it was the shambling corpses of those who failed to find the ring that proved to be the most difficult opponents in this place. He could only sense them when they moved. Every other creature was basically meat and experience points to him.

Blackthorne clacked his jaws together and listened intently. He managed to sense the location of a vaguely human shape just a few feet in front of him. Unwilling to let the creature get its hands on him, like the last few times he fought a zombie in the dark, the little dragon took a deep breath.

As he breathed in, tiny motes of shimmering darkness flowed toward the center of his mouth. Ominous red light blazed from his eyes, and then just as the zombie stepped forward, Blackthorne adjusted his orientation and unleashed a gout of black fire laced with lightning. "Ptooh!"

More like a fireball than an actual flamethrower, the dark flame slammed into the zombie with explosive force. It sent the beast flying back. It shrieked as it burned, the noise of its shrieks and its flailing limbs sent Blackthorne's echolocation into overdrive. He could properly sense the entire cavern up ahead now. Several more zombies barred his path and were even now shambling toward him.

"Why couldn't I at least get to keep some of my camping stuff?" he groused. A torchstone would have settled the entire issue easily. Even the tiniest bit of light would have been enough for his draconic eyes.

The pain of using his breath attack with no extra life force available was almost too much to bear. "Did I break something this time?" he wheezed loudly. The use of life force at any time put a strain on the body, but utilizing abilities without it caused notable injuries. In truth, he had injured himself more than the creatures in the cavern had managed.

He had no time to check and see how much damage his body had taken. He waddled forward and clacked his jaws together. He only received a vague impression of where the zombies might be from doing that, due to his echolocation ability, but it was enough to avoid their grasping hands. Blackthorne could not afford another fight, not until he could find a way through to the light of day.

On more than one occasion he unknowingly dodged an immobile cluster of stalagmites that looked vaguely human, but he even so he managed to work his way past the small pack of undead and found his way to a promising rock formation. Using his powerful little claws, he clambered up the face of the short cliff and crawled onto what seemed to be an underground plateau. He slowly clacked his teeth and listened carefully. There was nothing atop the plateau save for a few stalagmites.

Blackthorne worked his way around the area briefly then sank down to the ground with a sigh. No bats. No Scorpions. Best of all there were no zombies. He had discovered the eye of the underground storm, so to speak.

He blew out an exasperated breath then spread his little legs out in exhaustion. Getting out alive was proving to be much harder than actually changing races. He got to be something incredible, an actual change to his life! Yet, despite all the power that he possessed he was still just one little guy in a sea of other guys who wanted to eat him alive.

"Man, it's like high school in Juvie all over again..." groused Blackthorne.

His vaunted regeneration worked wonders on life force, but actual injuries still required a considerable time to mend. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Blackthorne took a moment to check his body status in order to see what manner of wounds he possessed.

Body Status: Lightly Injured – [With a Heavy wound]

Status Effects

-Bleeding [Light]

Damage: 17.65

Regeneration Time: 6.05 Hours

-Poisoned [Slight]

Damage: 0.05

Regeneration Time: 1.03 Minutes

- Diseased [Slight]

Damage: 2.43

Regeneration Time: 49.99 Minutes

Internal Bleeding: [Moderate]

Damage: 24.35 [+0.01 Per Minute/ 17 Minutes]

Regeneration Time: 8.41 Hours

- Lacerations: [Heavy]

Damage: 33.47

Regeneration Time: 11.47 Hours

- Internal Stress Damage: [Moderate]

Damage: 26.37

Regeneration Time: 9.04 Hours

Regeneration Rate: 1 Point | 20.57 Minutes

"Good lord, I'll take forever to heal..." he grumbled. His eyes widened a little, however, as he realized something profound. "I'd probably be dead if I was human, blindness in the dark notwithstanding..."

The damage to his body was extensive, and honestly if he were human he would need medical attention to completely heal if the raw damage taken alone did not kill him. Thankfully, his draconic body was a little sturdier. None of his wounds were severe on their own and thus he could regenerate properly without surgery, skills, or certain potions. More to the point, none of his wounds were particularly difficult to work around. He had neither broken bones, nor paralysis, to deal with at the moment.

His internal bleeding bothered him for a moment until he did the math. As long as he chose not to aggravate the wound, the continued bleeding would stop long before costing him even one more point of damage to heal.

Blackthorne's grumbling about how long it would take to heal was enough to make him laugh at himself. "I'm bitching because it'll take hours to heal from wounds that would have taken medical attention and over a week to heal when I was human, if they healed at all."

In truth, his regenerative factor was the worst cheat of all the bonuses that he'd received. With his improved draconic vitality he healed his wound damage ten times faster than a human with the same vitality modifier. His life force increased at two and a half times the typical speed. Quite plainly, if he was not so badly injured he could heal more of his life force in two minutes than his old body had in its entirety.

The way the system determined damage was odd, but it did seem to model the damage healing times on something resembling real world humans. An ordinary man might take days, or weeks to completely heal a bruise. Someone with his current vitality modifier could heal in a day, what a normal man might heal in a week. Meanwhile, an ordinary man would probably require stitches and over a month to heal from the lacerations alone, if not longer since heavier wounds took longer to heal at times.

As a dragon his regeneration ability bumped his status up a full tier when it came to self-regeneration. A human with a moderate wound might need proper medical attention to heal proper. They might be able to perform first aid on themselves, but that was still the case. Heavy wounds almost always required medical attention, and severe wounds would always require it.

His draconic regeneration though, made it so moderate injuries were no different than light injuries. His heavy wounds might benefit from medical attention but he could probably handle it with a little first aid. Only Critical injuries would require medical attention as an absolute, while severe injuries would make it likely that he needed such treatments, and it would be possible that he would not heal right without treatment.

Blackthorne marveled at his body status for a moment. Were he an ordinary human with basic human vitality, any damage above two points might require medical attention. At seven points in any given injury he'd be at death's door and waiting for his time to walk with the reaper.

He chuckled to himself when he remembered his thoughts on the injuries that he'd received during one of his first forays into the world. He'd gotten things wrong, almost immediately. Blackthorne of that era had innocently thought that a wound that required him to regenerate over five points of damage was something that a normal man would be able to heal within a few days. He had been foolishly naive at the time.

A single wound like that, on an average man, it would have been akin to taking a shot gun blast to the chest. Albeit, it would not have been a center shot as that would have been fatal. The amount of time for such egregious wounds to heal increases by a large margin because of the need for medical attention. The likelihood of the wound becoming worse on its own without medical attention is quite high. Even slight bleeding wounds might cause infection to set in, something Blackthorne had learned first-hand due to being around so many rotting dead things while carrying open wounds. Crawling through bat and scorpion feces for hours on end didn't help things either.

The absolute numbers for damage taken were just the system's best guess regarding the situation, when external factors were not included. Someone could carry any number of wounds, though if those wounds met certain numerical limits it would cause the body to be more damaged than any single wound might cause.

Nothing better to do while he waiter, Blackthorne did the math. "I've got seven points of vitality modifier to work with, and a base vitality of eighteen..."

He did a little simple multiplication and came up with one hundred twenty-six points. He let out a slow whistle, a strange tinny metallic sound when it came from a dragon's maw, after he added up all of his damage. "I'm close to breakthrough damage... if I take too many more hits anywhere, I'm in trouble."

Breakthrough damage, an odd concept that only occurred within the system that governed the dream. There was a threshold for damage that a creature might take. They could receive wounds anywhere and in any amount depending on their vitality and modifiers. However, if the total amount of damage reached an equivalent amount to their modifier multiplied by their base vitality it would break their damage threshold. When that happened the overall damage level for their body status would increase. After a certain point it would slow down regeneration speed.

"My total damage is just above one hundred four points, which is probably why my status claims I am only lightly wounded on the whole," he said.

If he reached the point of breakthrough damage, his body would be shocked into worsening all of his wounds. When he'd been injured that time as a human his wounds were so small in comparison that the average of all of his wounds only counted as a light injury. Since his worst injury was also rated as a light injury there was no additional information provided.

As a dragon all of his current injury levels combined ended up rating as a light injury, but he also had a heavy wound. It was a weird system, but it sort of made sense with a little insight. He could take a fatal headshot and die instantly, but the rest of his body might be perfectly fine. It was that sort of system.

"Light injuries being the limit, if I take enough damage my body will be moderately injured... the shock to my system would worsen all of my wounds by what, five to ten percent?" Blackthorne frowned then groaned. If he took just a few more points of damage, his heavy wound would easily turn severe. That could cause a snowballing effect, one that could drastically worsen his entire body condition once more. If that happened it might also once again worsen his entire body condition! Once enough injuries racked up, people went down fast, it seemed.

Blackthorne quickly did a little mental math then growled in an annoyed, and vaguely adorable, manner. "It doesn't seem it at first glance, but even a little more damage could easily put me in a death spiral... I'm stuck on this damn rock for a few hours at least and can't even practice my skills."

His eyes widened a moment later as the math that he was doing led him to a decidedly disturbing conclusion. "No! No. No.... No dammit!"

He looked to his status screen then growled loudly. Blackthorne slammed his little fist down on the ground in frustration. His body status was based on the average of all of his wounds. As ridiculous as it sounded, once his slight injuries were healed his body condition would actually grow worse, not better.

"What a stupid way to do things!" he snapped.

"Don't be bad. Don't be bad..." he mumbled to himself as he ran the numbers. A moment later he closed his eyes then sighed in relief. The system shock to his body would worsen his wounds, but the absolute worst it could do was mostly reset the time it took to heal his remaining wounds to something near to their current state. It was a pain in the ass, but survivable. By the time his third smallest injury healed in six hours, his other wounds would have dropped well below the danger zone.

"That was close," he muttered. The system was weird, but some things like that happened in real life too. An individual seemed to get better and then suddenly got worse without much comprehensible reason. Sometimes they didn't make it, other times the inexplicable worsening eventually alleviated and they got better.

"Once the shock hits me, it'll take a good two hours before my heavy wound drops to moderate..." thought Blackthorne. His eyes lit up and a parody of a smile appeared on his scaly draconic lips. "By then all my wounds will have lessened... Good. Good."

"Aww, did my blushing bride get an ouchie on our honeymoon?" asked a warm feminine voice.

Blackthorne popped up and looked around. "Ass-grabber? Is that you?"

The invisible voice giggled loudly then made a clucking sound with what no doubt amounted to an invisible tongue. "I have a name you know."

"What is it?" asked Blackthorne while he scanned the area. He blinked his reptilian eyes when he realized that he could sense a vaguely feminine shape nearby. She was hazy, indistinct, but definitely some sort of woman like thing.

"A secret..." she said with another giggle. The indistinct woman hopped up and down then moved what appeared to be a blurred arm up to her equally blurred face. Vaguely, he got the sense that she had placed two fingers over her right eye.

"No. Wait! Let me try that again." The silly creature bent forward, her recognizably feminine assets swaying heavily, and made a gesture with her hand reminiscent of someone waggling their finger slowly. "That's a secret!"

"Oh yes. That was so much better," she said with a laugh.

"You... sound familiar," said Blackthorne. Something about her voice and mannerisms reminded him of someone, but every time he thought he'd figured it out something happened that made the name slip from his thoughts.

"Do I?" she asked in a perky manner.

The vaguely human form straightened then turned sideways and crossed her hands at the small of her back. She looked straight up into the air then took a deep breath. "I thought you'd never make it this far... I've been waiting for you, you know."

"You've been waiting for me?" he asked curiously. "What if I didn't come to this plateau?"

She laughed then turned toward him. "Not literally right here, you silly little dragon cutie."

A soft sigh escaped her lips. "I've been waiting far, far, longer than that..."

"What do you mean?" he asked. Blackthorne rose up from his slumped over position and waddled over to her general location. The closer he came to her, the more indistinct she appeared in his vision. Her rainbow fire and sound pattern merged evermore with the world around her.

"That too... is a secret," she said softly.

He got the general impression that she rocked back on her heels while also leaning forward in his direction. "You have no idea how glad I am that you were able to follow the clues that led you here... though the form you've taken is... not really one that makes sense."

"My form doesn't make sense?" he asked her.

"Well, it's not on the list. You know?" she asked him.

"What? It was listed..." said Blackthorne.

"Dragons aren't supposed to be on the list, but somehow it was up there. I'm sure there will be an inquiry, but it's clear that neither you nor I did anything to make it happen..." she said in a curious tone, "Enough about that, though..."

She disappeared from his view. Suddenly, he felt powerful and yet feminine, arms lift him up and swing him around. "Oh, my darling bride! We're married! How many cute little lizard babies will you give me?"

"Release me, ass-grabber!" snarked Blackthorne as he flailed his body around. "I'm injured you know!"

She squeezed him to her indistinct breast and danced around a little. "Can't blame a goddess for being happy to see her bride, can you?" she asked with a happy laugh.

Blackthorne tried to bite the hand holding him, but she merely giggled then stroked the back of his head. "Now. Now. My darling. There's no need to fuss on our honeymoon..."

He growled at her and she burst into laughter. "That's so adorable!"

His growl turned into a groan and she laughed again, as that was even more adorable. Blackthorne continued to fuss until she relented and put him down.

"I am no one's bride, and I'm not adorable!" said Blackthorne with a stomp of his back leg. He crossed his forelegs over his chest and made a loud *Hmph!*

Her hand rose to approximately where her lips should be. A slightly glittering light came from where her eyes should be. Suddenly, a loud squeaking squeal sort of noise escape her approximate lips. "Eee! That's too much! My heart can't stand it."

Blackthorne sighed loudly then fell to the ground in a huff. "What do you even want, you damned ass-grabber?"

"I'm just checking on my cute little bride. That's all," she said lightly.

The indistinct goddess sat down next to him then lightly began to stroke the back of his neck. "I've missed you."

"You don't even know me," groused Blackthorne.

"I've known you longer than you've known you," she said in retort.

He looked toward her general location. "What's that?"

"Nothing I can talk about now, I'm afraid..." she said softly. In a tone that sounded surprisingly shy, she asked "But can I please have this moment?"

Blackthorne grunted, but let her stroke the back of his neck. It did not feel bad, and he wasn't going anywhere anyway.

A few minutes later he became surly again. "Stop calling me your bride. I'm a man, you know."

She raised up a finger then swung it through the air. "You're a dragon, actually," she said in a tone reminiscent of a professor correcting a student.

"I'm a man dragon," he countered.

"A hatchling, actually!" she counter-countered.

He snorted at her then acquired a parody of a smile. "Then, since you're claiming to be married to me... that makes you a pedophile."

His smile left him the moment the final word left his scaly lips. His entire body shivered as he realized what he'd said. That was nothing to laugh about.

She patted him on the back and replied, "I prefer lolidragon bride appreciator."

"Lolidra—" Blackthorne hopped up and flailed his little paws around. "No. No..."

The goddess laughed sweetly then nodded her indistinct head. "Yep!"

"I'm a man dammit!" snarled Blackthorne as he sat up on his hind-legs. He emphasized his point by spreading open his forelegs and stubby wings to show her all of his masculine glory.

"Aw! My lolidragon bride can't possibly be this cute!" she squealed excitedly. She moved to pick him up again.

Blackthorne hopped back from her then crossed one foreleg over his chest and stuck up one digit on his other hand. "No means no."

She blew out an exasperated breath then sighed. "So cruel..."

"No. Cruel would be calling you easy," muttered Blackthorne.

"E-easy?" she asked him, shocked. In a hurt tone she asked, "What do you mean by that, Scott?"

"Scott..." he said slowly.

"Yes. Of course, Scott. You think I don't know your true name, you noob? Anyway, what's with calling me easy?" she asked him, the hurt in her voice increasing several times over.

Blackthorne grumbled a little then folded his forelegs over his chest and looked to the side. "You'd marry anyone who completed that ridiculously easy trial, right?"

She took in a sharp intake of breath then sighed. "You really don't get it do you?"

"Get what?" he asked her.

The goddess sighed once more. "You've been taking that test since the moment you set foot in the dream world. I could give you hints, portents, even signs... in the last case an actual sign, but you had to complete all of the requirements on your own."

"What requirements? What do you mean?" he asked her. "All I did was touch a couple of doors."

She sighed at him then raised up a single indistinct digit. "First, you needed the blessing of darkness. I'm the only one who gives it."

She raised another finger. "Second, you had to reach level two."

Blackthorne watched as she raised another finger, "Third you had to prove yourself to the darkness by undertaking a quest in service of the dark goddess. Which is of course, this gorgeous girl you are speaking with at the moment."

"What quest?" he asked, interrupting her finger play.

"You don't remember a certain adorable and precocious little dark elf?" asked the ass-grabber. "She was in need, and prayed to the darkness for help. You were my chosen one."

"What would have happened to her if I didn't find her?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

The goddess shook her head. "I can only intervene directly in certain ways. I led you there specifically in the hopes that you might help her, because she needed it. Outside of interaction with a chosen champion, I am limited in what I'm allowed to do."

"That's bullshit..." snapped Blackthorne.

"That's the way it is. I can give signs, and portents. I can even visit directly with my chosen. I cannot interfere in the free will of the world, however. Being my bride means you are also an extension of me in the world," she said.

"You really couldn't do anything directly?" he asked her, a sour note in his voice.

"I do have an avatar of my own, of course, but I am limited to mortal means in that form. I'm not even on the same dream continent as you, yet." The darkness sighed softly then shook her head. "I don't like to see people suffer, but it happens all over the world. There's nothing I can do about it unless I'm physically nearby in mortal form, or call upon my champion. My Scott."

"You say it like there was no way that your champion could be anyone but me," he said slowly.

She nodded to him. "I've always chosen you, Scott."

The goddess sighed softly then drew her legs together and propped her chin atop her knees. "It's just that you never choose me."

"I... Do I know you? It seems like I should," he said.

Rainbow fire trickle down along the indistinct features of her face in a manner akin to tears. "I've just wanted to play with you for so long. Other than my sister, you're the only one who ever made me feel like anyone really cared about me... Not even the rest of my family, though they do seem to care."

"I make you feel that way?" he asked her in confusion. He couldn't recall having ever met her before the dream.

I don't know why you make me feel that way, but you do." She sighed softly then shook her head a little. "I even took this job as part of my community service because I could get to spend time with you."

Blackthorne drew back a little. In many ways she had just sounded like a heartbroken little girl who'd never had a friend. "I... If I've done something to you, I'm sorry."

She nodded her indistinct head slightly and the twin-trails of rainbow fire sliding down her cheeks began to lessen in intensity. "No. It's not your fault. Not really. You don't know about the yous that are and aren't you, you know?"

"I..." Blackthorne was not sure what to say to that. "I'm not sure I heard that right."

The goddess mumbled softly, "I'm the one who can't get it right."

"What's that?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "I can't really talk about it that much. I'm censured," she said in a pouty tone.

He started to say something then recalled something she had said. "Wait, you're doing community service?"

The goddess giggled sadly. "Yeah, the courts decided that I was at fault for your death. You got better, because of the clean-up but I had to do community service."

"You... killed me? I'm sure I'd remember that." Blackthorne tilted his head to the side. The entire conversation was confusing but this just made it worse.

She laughed. "Well, why would you remember? It was another you. You know?"

"I... just don't know," he said, confused.

The goddess chuckled warmly, her spirits improving. "It happened before I met the you that is you."

"Uh huh..." said Blackthorne, as though that made any sort of sense.

"I was bummed because my sister was hogging you all to herself, meaning the people I loved most weren't playing with me," she said in a pouty tone. "It wasn't fair you know. I was the one who had all the action figures, and posters, but no. You only wanted my sister cuz of the whole part were you met first and were all in love with each other and stuff."

"I... am sorry about that... I guess?" he asked, even more confused. This strangely childish goddess was quite chatty at the moment.

She huffed loudly. The indistinct nature of her face puffed out a little as though she were holding air in her cheeks. "No you're not. You wouldn't even consider an illicit affair with harem shenanigans, because you preferred playing with my sister and she didn't want to share."

The darkness muttered, "Some goddess of love she is... ah but I love her super lots anyway, even if she has monogamy on the brain."

"So, you don't agree with monogamy?" asked Blackthorne.

"It's fine. I guess... just seems super lonely," she admitted in a more upbeat and thoughtful tone.

She placed a hand toward her indistinct lips. "Harems are fun. You know? The wacky shenanigans. The girls all actually being good friends who support each other despite being love rivals. They all constantly try to get the male protagonist solely for themselves."

"Is that so?" asked Blackthorne. He'd never really thought about it like that, but it was easy to see. Though, it was strange that a supposed goddess would be referencing what sounded like harem-themed anime.

She cheered up instantly and rolled forward onto her shins. Now on all fours she seemingly looked toward him with her indistinct eyes. "Yes! Of course! Nothing is better than a proper harem story! Each girl hopes to be the main girl of the story. Yet, they all still care about each other and are super close friends and stuff."

"Some people would claim that sort of thing is unrealistic, and portrays women like prizes to be won in a male fantasy..." remarked Blackthorne.

The goddess snorted. "Most of those people end up alone and crying to their overweight sweater wearing cat on Tuesday nights."

"Damn..." said Blackthorne, "Goddesses are savage."

She chuckled softly then propped her chin back up on her knees. "Well... I do like a good savage outing..."

"Who doesn't?" asked Blackthorne lightly.

He sat back on his haunches briefly then leaned forward. "You said you killed me?"

"Ah, yes. I accidentally killed one of your other yous," she said in a sincere sounding tone.

"Right. My other ...me." He looked quizzically toward her. "What does that even mean?"

"Sorry. I'm censured and can't talk about how you are other than you, and also you, right now. At least in some regards. I'm a little uncertain of the actual rules." The goddess released what sounded like a long-suffering sigh.

"You just were though?" he asked.

"Not really. You already know that other worlds exist and that you can exist in them. So, admitting that is no big deal. I just can't go into detail about how that all works at the moment," she said.

"Not even to tell me how you killed my other me?" he asked curiously. "Why you were on community service and all that?"

"Well, I suppose I could give you the highlights... but it's embarrassing," she admitted in a cutesy tone. She scratched at her cheek and seemed to look away as far as Blackthorne could tell.

"Good." Blackthorne rocked forward and stretched out on the ground. He needed to heal up anyway. Why not indulge in story time?

She giggled softly then pounced forward and stretched out on the ground as well. Her distinct, yet indelibly feminine, form came more readily into view. She lifted one foot up and allowed her heel to hover over what approximated her butt for a moment.

Much like a girl spreading gossip with a friend, she began to relate her story. "Well. Since my sister was being a Scott hog, and kept your other you all to herself, I got lonely and stuff."

Blackthorne looked at her then snorted out a breath. "Right."

"Right!" she said cheerfully.

"Anyway, I started looking through the *bleep* and *bleep* for a long time while I *bleep*. I'll tell you, all that *bleep* really wears a girl out. I couldn't even *bleep* for a while!" she said emphatically.

"I... Uh... bet?" he asked. What the bleep was she trying to tell him? "What's with the bleeps?"

"You're hearing bleeps?" she asked.

"It makes you sound like you were looking at porn on the Internet and someone put a no-swearing filter on you," admitted Blackthorne.

She giggled. "Well, that's not exactly what I'd call it but it's not that far off from accurate."

Blackthorne cocked his head to the side. "Really?"

"Sure," she said before she propped her head up with her chin. "Anyway, I found a cute little fat Scott and decided to make him mine."

"You, found a fat Scott?" he asked her. "Not into the Irish, or something?"

"Pbbbt! Boo. You know what I mean. I found a cute little fat you," she said.

"He was me, right?" he asked.

"Sort of, though your other you's life was different," she said lightly.

"How so?" he asked.

"Ah. Well, I'm not easy... unlike what some people claim," she said, the hurt creeping back into her voice.

"Sorry about that," he replied.

"Yeah, still hurt to hear it," she mumbled. "I only want Scott after all. No substitutions!"

Her indistinct hand waved him off before he could say anything, and she continued, "Anyway, I checked him out thoroughly to make sure he fit all of the proper criteria for a good Scott."

"Which are?" asked Blackthorne.

"Well, a proper Scott has to care about his family. Um, he also should like anime and games and stuff if they exist in his world," she said. She stopped herself then nodded a moment later, "Oh! It's best if he's mostly into girls because I prefer playing as a variation of myself when I play with mortal souls."

"And?" he asked her. "Wait, mostly?"

"And?" she asked him curiously. "Also, yes. Mostly."

"Those are your only criteria?" he asked in surprise, while ignoring her statement about her idea of a proper Scott being mostly into girls.

"Yah? Of course. I don't want to discount a good Scott just because he's never heard of video games or enjoys boys love," she said lightly.

"Anyway," she said before waving her hand through the air. "I found a good one."

"He fit your criteria?" asked Blackthorne.

"Yes!" she exclaimed happily. "He lived with his mother despite being an adult, so I knew that he cared about his family."

"He... lived with his mother," said Blackthorne slowly.

"Yes, in the basement," said the goddess. "He had this really nice gaming set up down there that he used when he wasn't watching hentai."

"By that, you took it to mean that he liked anime and games... Didn't you?" asked Blackthorne as he immediately began to see a pattern in her thought processes. Admittedly, he personally lived alone and with no basement, but there were certain things a man did in his bachelor pad that must never be spoken of in polite society. He did not even want to think about a basement dwelling version of himself.

"It also meant that he mostly liked girls, cuz the porn and stuff was mostly girls!" she said in a triumphant tone.

"Mostly?" asked Blackthorne with a shudder.

"Yah, mostly," she agreed with a nod. "He also occasionally watched tentacle-based furry futanari pegg—" she began only to be cut off by a loud and decidedly cutesy growl from Blackthorne. Much like a puppy with an adorable bark, he could not help the way that he sounded.

"So, this guy who was supposed to be another me? How did you kill him?" asked Blackthorne with a bit of eagerness in his tone. "Please tell me it hurt a lot."

"Ah, well... Yes, it did hurt me... but I don't know why you sound so eager to here me admit it again," she said confused.

With a sigh, she continued, "Honestly, I figured he'd be super healthy because he had such a big body. I mean, he was like an oily whale with arms and legs!"

"Right..." said Blackthorne while he fought down an involuntary shudder.

She tilted her head sideways and made a soft humming noise. He pressed her for information. "Hello? How did you kill the fat little me?"

"Well—" she sighed softly then made a little cutesy tittering noise. "Aheh—heh..."

"Out with it woman..." said Blackthorne.

She blew out a breath then sat up and seemed to thrust out her chest. "I was so happy to finally have a Scott of my own that I greeted him at his home. Things were going great till I told him he could touch me in any way that he wanted since he was my destiny and stuff."

Blackthorne groaned a little then clamped his mouth shut. She sighed then looked down at what should have been her breasts were she more distinct. "Sadly, these killed him."

"These?" asked Blackthorne.

"Yeah, he touched my epic sweater kittens and sort of... well... died," she said softly.

"Epic sweater kittens? Really?" he asked her with a snort.

"That's what one of my sister called them, yes," said the goddess.

"Your sister said that?" asked Blackthorne.

"Yah, Mid. She likes to make fun of me now and then because my sweater kittens were too much for his untouched virgin heart and it exploded inside his chest," she said with a tearful sniffle.

"This is the sister who is with my other me?" asked Blackthorne in search of some form of clarity within the confines of this ridiculous conversation.

"What? No! At least she better not be after I was told there would be no harem shenanigans!" said the goddess in a huffy tone.

Blackthorne took that tidbit of information to heart for a moment then asked, "So you killed him because his heart could not handle fondling your divine boobs?"

"Yeah. I was super bummed. Even wrote a song about it to help me get over my loss since I was banned from ever seeing him again," she said with a sigh.

"You... wrote a song about the guy whose heart exploded when he touched your epic sweater kittens?" Blackthorne cocked his head to the side and closed one eye while opening the other wide.

"Yah!" she replied excitedly. Not long after she acquired a thoughtful tone and said. "Hey, that's funny. Mid said that almost word for word when she found out about the song."

She gasped slightly then clapped her hands together. "Wow, she even had that long pause in the beginning too!"

"Oh, It is still way up on the charts, too!" she exclaimed without allowing him to interject. Her jubilance died a bit, however, and she sniffled a little. "I called it the Ballad of Fat Scott... Cuz ballads are about love and stuff, I think. Anyway, the first physical copies sold out in twelve picoseconds so it was decently popular."

He chuckled briefly then drew his head back. "Wait, picoseconds? How many copies?"

"Dunno? Few million? I was all sad and stuff, so I didn't pay attention to the details," she admitted in a somber tone.

"How could you possibly sell that many physical copies of a song that fast?" he asked incredulously.

"We do have the Internet, Scott," she said with a snort.

Blackthorne grunted at her then let it go. He began to ask about something else, however she jumped to her feet and exclaimed, "Shoot! I have to go."

"You do?" he asked her curiously.

"Sorry, yeah. I've got like, goddess stuff and such to do..." she said.

"Goddess stuff?" he asked.

"Yeah. Goddess stuff..." she said, her words trailing off. She quickly hopped up and down then laughed happily. "My sister is going to be super jealous! I got to have the same conversation with you as she did with your other you."

"She discussed goddess stuff with my other... me?" asked Blackthorne.

"No. Well, yes eventually. But I meant she had like girl elf stuff to do, but it was still stuff and she had to do it... just like I have girl goddess stuff to do," she said in a happily rambling manner.

"Uh... alright then," said Blackthorne. What else was he supposed to say to such a weird statement?

"I'll see you later, my darling bride!" she said happily.

"I'm a man dammit!" he cried uselessly.

Her laughter was her only response, and soon that too faded away along with her indistinct form. She seemed to be gone for real; gone back to whatever place weird girls like her lived.

He snorted once then allowed himself to relax. However, a few seconds later his eyes snapped open. He hopped up onto his back legs and shouted, "Wait! Come back and tell me how to get out of this damned cave, you gossipy goddess!"

Blackthorne groaned loudly when no one answered him. He dropped to his little reptilian knees then beat his tiny fist against the hard ground beneath him. "I'm an idiot!" he shouted.

In another place, but in a similar time a red haired girl lifted a beautiful golden tiara from her head. Her eyes opened, and a brilliant smile rose on her perfect lips. She looked at a large monitor situated in front of her. On the screen she saw the object of her affections, an adorable black dragon

"What are you doing, Scott?" she asked with a giggle. The little dragon shouted to the heavens then beat his fist against the ground. All she managed to hear from what he was saying was a desire for her to come back.

"That's. So. Sweet!" she said excitedly. "He really does want to play with me some more."

"Dammit!" shouted the little dragon on the screen. "Come back here, I said!"

The goddess smiled happily at the screen then sighed as she turned off her monitor. "I really wish I could play with you more today, my cute little dragon Scott."

She pouted at the screen then puffed out her cheeks. "Stupid community service update briefing."

The goddess rose up from her comfortable gaming chair then strolled over to a nearby dresser. Atop it sat numerous collectible figures, most of which held a striking resemblance to each other. One figure, a man wearing US Army ACUs stood resolute and proudly at ease with his hands crossed over the small of his back.

She kissed two of her fingers then lightly tapped the action figure on the cheek. In truth, it looked quite similar to Scott. "Big sister better be taking good care of you, because this sexy ninja goddess is about to be off the market."

The goddess made a gesture with her left hand and her clothing disappeared with little preamble. She reached toward a round disc sitting nearby and placed her hand over it. A soft blue light rose up and she took on a look of concentration.

A few seconds later an item appeared in the air above her dresser. Soft and silky, with a hint of lace at the border, they were an incredibly comfortable looking set of panties. She giggled softly then snatched them up. On the back there was a stylized image of Blackthorne's face. "New Scott merchandise get!" she cried before she took a moment to slide into her new favorite pair of underwear.

With another giggle she stuck her hand back into the light. A new object soon appeared in the air before her. "Now I can sleep well at night, cuz you'll protect me from the bad little monsters won't you, my adorable little dragon Scott?" she asked the stuffed plushie version of Blackthorne that she'd created. It was a ridiculously cute and cartoonish version of the dragon complete with goofy smile.

"Yes you will!" she cried happily. She took a moment to spin around while pretending that her stuffed toy was flying through to air to reach her heart. She clutched him tightly afterwards and giggled again.

The goddess kissed the little plush snout then whispered, "You don't need to fly to my heart, my silly little Scott. You're already there!"

Her door opened suddenly and a slightly older looking woman appeared. She wore an outfit that seemed to be a cross between lingerie and a mage's robe. Atop her head resided a large floppy witch's hat. "Shara? What is taking you so long?"

"Oops, sorry Mid." said Shara excitably. "I was almost dressed..."

"Yes. I'm sure you were," said Mid as she sauntered into the room. "Those are new..." she said while taking stock of Shara's new underwear.

Shara laughed nervously and lightly pulled on her ponytail while looking away shyly. She turned away from Mid and tried to hide the dragon print on the back, even as her face became flush with embarrassment. "What do you mean, this old thing?"

Mid offered her a knowing smile. "I'll be in the car when you're ready. If you hurry we'll stop for ice cream after."

Shara's eyes widened, and soon a soft light began to shimmer from them. "Really?"

"Sure," said Mid. "It's not every day that my youngest sister has to go before a tribunal to brief them on how her community service has reformed the wicked ways of her epic homicidal sweater kittens."

"Mid..." said Shara in a pouty tone of voice. "That's so mean."

Mid arched her eyebrow elegantly, and then with a smile filled to the brim with casual good humor she said, "Dear childe, of course it is."

Shara groaned at her older sister then began to get dressed. She did not want to miss out on ice cream!

Mid pulled down the brim of her hat then offered a mischievous smile before she disappeared from the room. She quickly headed off toward the family car, as promised. She would be driving for once, and she did not wish to miss a second of such a mundane and normal human experience. Along the way she chuckled softly to herself as she remembered the panties her youngest sister had chosen to wear. "Oh these little sisters of mine. They do amuse me so."

She stopped briefly then placed a finger to her lower lip. "I wonder how long it shall be before I might tease her appropriately about her latest attempt at acquiring a Scott of her own?"

Her expression became thoughtful a moment later. "I do so hope this poor boy has no history of heart disease. Terrible business that..."

Back in her room, Shara sulked a little but did not complain that she could get to her meeting on her own. The fact that Mid took time out of her busy schedule of scheming and mischief making just to drive her there was such a sweet thing to do that she could not pass up the opportunity. Plus, ice cream always tasted better when she had someone else to eat it with her.