“…light, continuous steps bring me to the world’s edges. Huff. Lost in and tired of the never-ending sea of broken trees, ahh, I find no civilization, mind you. I find a cursed field of wet quietness, cough, and stale death, featuring crooked nature quite hurtful to the barefooted, eegh. Issshhh.

Can you picture it? Ahio. Fantastic tools of torment, hach, hach, lined up as far as the eye can see. But! Heh, I can hardly rope down, ehh, for there is hell awaiting me in that mire. I know! Eurgh. I tried to get away, but for what purpose? Hach, hach. There's no higher calling to follow.

Forget the, uff, unwelcoming flora, the wicked fauna hiding, eeh, even in my own shadow is a greater threat. You can believe me lucky despite being unlucky at that... if you want. The irony…

Nothing seems to go my way. Hah, hah.” Only soft pants and repressed groans disturbed the icy, otherworldly hole of darkness. Yet the condescending silence was soon to be broken again by mysterious scraping noises only one man among his peers could interpret.

“So what if it’s more of a contradiction? Ugh. Uff. Mankind is full of lies… and personality gaps–––or so I have heard. Eergh. But that’s not important at all. Uuh. Remember my story up to this point? Let's continue. So there's me bravely walking forward to my doom. Cough, cough. And doom I find, bringing me to my knees.

Pootey. To my shattered kneecaps to be exact, cough, as every other position, uff, only accelerates my untimely demise. Ahio. It kicks me over several long tunnels, metre deep holes, drags me over sharp edges, cough, pootey, and murderous corners right to your charming place, whoever that you is I’m chatting with.

Uff, hach, for us to meet seems destined–––don’t you agree? Hehe~.”

‘You sure recounting past dishonourable deeds is a smart move?’ ‘Worth the risk, Stupid. What has a dying man to lose? I slightly altered the important stuff anyway and made a nice best-selling story out of it at that. If we gotta die, at least we leave some imprints behind.’

‘If you don't burn your fingers on that one.’ ‘Hush, now. Gotta concentrate.’ “You excel at narrating the most captivating stories. Or is it just my loneliness at fault here, giving too much undue credit? Be it as it may, you do lack sincerity in your intriguing recollection, my dear guest.

But strangely, you told no lie either.” Cracked lips parted in the dark, composing themselves for a moment as if to speak, yet instead of words, a mouthful of fresh blood was coughed out.

“Cough, cough, ahh, ah. We have an agreement, no? Haahhh. I tell you, cough, my story and you, eergh, you do your part.” ‘Hope the thing there does, Pansy.’ ‘Shut. Your. Trap. Stupid! Whose fault is it we stranded here?!’ 'The whole darn forest's,' grumbled Linlin with a vengeance.

“Strange… treacherous, vile words, as well as double-faced musing–––your kind calls it acting, I believe?–––fence-sitting and hellish plots, is mankind really capable of more?

Admitted, I thought so not when discovering you there, fainted and about to expire.” The other lifeform in the subterranean cave was taken aback by obvious surprise, as if the agreement had never been meant to be more than welcome entertainment.

Now that the guest honestly played by the rules, the entire approach had to be rethought. Subsequently, the creature became more lenient. Much as if Pansy’s behaviour struck a chord in it that thus far went by unnoticed. But it was still too little. ‘Shit, the thing must’ve had some nasty experience.’ ‘Looks bleak to me.’

‘Would it cost you your life to shut up for once?!’ ‘Bah!’ “…I’m not one of the bad guys, uff, you know. Ambitious, yes. Hah, haaah. Ruthless, maybe? But no backstabbing dick, no-no!

Remember, we agreed upon a story with no lies. And that is it. You never mentioned a general prohibition of embellishments.” ‘Please buy this–––oi Gods or Devils, I don’t care who moves the lazy bum, just make it happen~.’

Pansy–––who had never been much of a believer throughout his few years of existence–––sent one desperate, mental prayer for help, which, as a convinced atheist that no longer was that convinced after transmigrating over, gave him a feeling equal to trampling on his own non-existent pride.

“One thing’s clear, these words confirm beyond doubt you aren’t innocent. Your only wish is to survive, no matter what it takes. Nothing more, nothing less. Understandable, relatable even… yet the opposite of reliable. Even as a fence sitter, your hands are bloodied?” It wasn’t much of a question.

Coming from the unknown lifeform in hiding within the dark cave, it sounded like a plain fact. ‘No-no-no-no-no! I don’t like where this’s going! Why don’t we try negotiating that way…?’ “What’s considered off-limits, eergh, if one’s survival, cough, survival is at stake?”

As the pressure on the man’s tight chest grew worse, so did his incessant coughing. He certainly wasn't long for this world if left on his own. “Such talk is meaningless to both of us. Uff. Ach.

From my understanding, ehh, you are to gain at least, cough, at least as much as I do. The forest isn't occupied by philanthropists.” Our dying hero countered the question with random observations of his own.

As can be easily related, the being in the darkness wasn't amused by his daring endeavours in selling its intelligence short. “The agreement, dear human. Please don’t forget to truthfully answer my every whim, that’s the story I asked you to deliver.

After all, I'd rather not relieve my dear visitor of his one and only head. Not after hearing such interesting titbits.” ‘Now we can only play that card, eh.’ Some short, calculated moments of stillness halted their conversation, prompting eventually another uncalled for mouthful worth of blood merrily trickling down the corner of Linlin’s bloodless lips.

‘To hell with it all, there's no time!!’ “Kech, ach, ichhh, cough! Stories you, ergh, you have to, uff, cough, have to kiss goodbye soon! Same goes for my genius you’re after. Kech. What you won’t do, kech, ach, ach, time shall accomplish!!”

“Can’t you last at least a teeny bit longer? Listening to your narrations is really fun compared to my solitary, hurtful means of communication.” ‘I was right, that’s where its interest lies. Listening to some random, mostly made-up stories to understand how useful the mind is that came up with them? Ingenious.

Point lost, I take. Darnation. Of course, it perceives the plot holes clearly. But why sulking like that and wasting time of which I have little left? Does or does it not desire my genius?! Don’t tell... it’s a sarcastic she-monster?!’

“Contrary to, cough, what you seem to believe, I’m, haahh, uff, I’m human. Pootey. Honestly, with at least, kech, hahh, three splintered ribs poking through the lung, cough,” some more coughs came in quick succession, as more splashes of dark blood landed on the rocky ground accompanied by rugged, heavy breathing in place of the sentence’s latter half.

‘Making myself sound as pitiful as possible should do the trick!’ ‘Whatever floats your boat, Pansy, whatever floats your boat.’ ‘Not yet shaddup?’ 'We're already as pitiful as we can get...' ‘Zip it!’ “Countless internal injuries on top of, kech, uff, external bruises bring me closer to death's eternal embrace.

Hah, haahhhh, cough, I no longer feel my icy body, haah, hah, hah. Feels like being stranded in a, uff, uff, freezer. Haahh. Being alive is a miracle, hah, already, hah.” “I do know how sturdy–––or rather, frail–––human bodies tend to be, but you certainly don’t strike me as part of the useless critter.

My few senses left intact paint a dangerous, disgruntled beast on his last legs.” ‘Still insufficient... C’mon, a bit more. Lachrymal glands, now or never! Just like in the soap opera. One-two... puuuuush!!’'

“You surely jest.” A solitary tear rolled down his pale cheek. “Cough, cough, cough. Since when do non-humans understand, cough, humans better than they do themselves? Hah, haah, kech, uff.” ‘Maybe this…!’ “Well, for once, argh, am pretty sure I don’t currently speak, harrumph, the human tongue.

Aren’t I, cough, a pitiable man of culture?” ‘What fabulous distraction, if I say so myself.’ ‘Hehehe, you're quite funny today, Pansy, if I say so myself. Hahaha!’ ‘Y-you…!’ “True, that comes as a welcome surprise, for I’m speaking, like, no language at all.” “…what?”

Pansy’s thoughts were reeling as he swiftly went through the whole bulk of the conversation again, hoping to find out since when he started partially exposing the inherently lacking cards he had up his sleeve.

Even though the conversation sounded fairly laid-back, with one in the dominant position and the latter under the other’s scrutiny, it couldn't be further off the mark.

Nobody had the advantage… at least until that entity in the darkness found pressing evidence of Linlin not being what his facade suggested he was. In other words, our hero was left to cope with the shorter end of the metaphorical stick.

‘Wait, this sounds somewhat familiar.’ ‘Of course, it does. Mikaantyar was crystal clear, wasn’t he? ‘…noooo, I messed up!’ “Maybe if I bluntly say it like this, you’ll give up on the funny game.

It was fun while it lasted, but all good things must come to an end, no? I’m… troubled, you see. Cannot move around much, can’t talk properly either. For this reason, I convey feelings and intentions by grating on rocks.”

“Oh, shit.” Linlin muttered flabbergasted like a mass murderer getting caught alive by the police in his shady act. The dreaded remark came right after, regardless of what they both wished for. “How you perceive that as a meaningful sentence is a mystery.”

“…I’ve my, cough, my secrets,” weakly muttered an unconvincing Pansy. “Sure, sure. As I’ve mine.” Silence befell them once again, occasionally interrupted by laboured breathing.

It lasted until the man could no longer hold his horses. “…the deal?” “Ah, the deal. The most important thing there is, right?” ‘I swear, that can only be a she-monster. Longwinded and all that...’

“Are you stepping that low, argh, as to break, cough, break an agreement between you and, hah, hah, an honourable dying man? After, huff, even after you won?! You said you, cough, hate backstabbing, uff, hah, hah, bastards? I assure you that road, cough, cough, is a near one.”

‘Take that, my ultimate punch!’ “…so be it. Bury the hatchet, that was merely me cracking a silent joke, if you get what I mean.” 'So that's what a joke is. I think I understand. Jokes leave one fearing for life, isn't that right!?' 'Keep it, I said. That one's not done yet.'

“Well, for the most part. Not counting your implicit admittance of being inferior.” If it could, Pansy was sure the creature would be laughing hard by now. ‘Please, bitch. You’re too wet behind the ears to get the jump on me. I only graciously conceded that point. Just wait and see. Hurr-hurr.’

“Your name?” “Linchester Linlin.” “Well then–” “and, cough, yours?” “…Azariah, and silence. You surely don’t want this Queen messing up the ancestral chant!”

‘What? Chant… sounds ominous.’ ‘Will you look at that–––mister Chief Strategist, gonna get shackled for eternity to some random lifeform sounds nice as my instincts tell me?’ ‘E-eternity?’

‘That thing said ancestral chant, dumbass. An-ces-tral. It probably has something to do with what we discovered in the Illusory Library! And don't dare tell me you passed on the opportunity.’ ‘…you rather die?!’

‘You lost that one, Pansy. The blame is yours to take and don't try to wriggle out of it! Suck it all up!’ ‘At least we live.’ ‘But for what price and to what extent? ‘I got the message, don’t be a childish bully and rub it in further! We shall see what can be done.’

Just as their little internal quarrel came to an end, the lifeform introducing herself as Azariah began to grate, screech and clink in a bizarre rhythm that succeeded where his grievous injuries failed: A shiver crawled down Linlin's sweaty back.

Linlin was sure that with little effort, he should be able to easily uncover the meaning behind that nightmare opera, yet his tingling instincts had something against the notion.

And Linlin soon knew why. Followed by a gush of foul wind–––which occurrence was inexplicable so many metres down in Central’s bosom–––the two got… company?

Something as ancient as time itself and as malevolent as protective was summoned right under his nose. It immediately reached out its ethereal, immemorial, steely feelers reeking of doom and gloom to both of them.

At this juncture, Linlin heard something weighing tons being slowly pushed in his direction, while the univocal, mind-boggling, power-infused invocation turned into a multivocal, ghostly crescendo of inviolable devilish holiness no opera singer would be capable of even with a whole bottle of whiskey stuck in her throat.

On top of all that, at this very moment, a strange power entered Linlin's mind. A majestic pressure he could later neither define nor hope to understand suddenly made its presence known through the newly-formed psychic link.

It gave the precarious impression of seemingly coming from an ancient chorus of one hell of a distant past, now all gone. Suddenly, amidst all this mind-boggling fuss, something unfortunate and certainly the least desirable from Linlin's perspective happened: The unfeeling mechanical voice piped up again.

Plug-In Installed Successfully Data Received, Converted And Stored Initialising Security Protocol #Three# In 3 2 1 Task Completed Immediate Forceful Shut-Down In… 3 2 1

Then an indescribable sense of fear, the culmination of instinctive warning raced through his nerves. It rang in his mind like the death knell, yet all he could do was take note of his insignificantly small importance with no means to act on his own accord. Then he was no more.

At the end of the ominous countdown began a period of insane recuperation and adjustment for our hero’s messed-up body, all the while his consciousness had been mercilessly allowed to slip away.

Entered Into Forced Contract With Subject: Queenant Azariah Voldenofen

Linlin slept so deep he later came to believe he'd had no proper shut-eye for ages. Though obviously untrue, the irrational part of him just stubbornly held onto the notion.

For once, his split mind didn’t have to overexert itself: Pansy need not come up with solutions to varying problems non-stop, Stupid need not keep a lookout 24/7.

However, included in that world of bliss was one non-peaceful sensatio non grata. Such being the case, that oddball rapidly grew in both intensity and annoyance, until it triumphed over reason itself.

That exact moment signalled Linlin’s return from the lands of the dreamy unknown. The sleepyhead reluctantly opened first one eye, then many heartbeats later the other.

Without him noticing, a streak of pure gold dashed across his abyssal black irises, granting them an as irresistible as dangerous charm. Scratching absentmindedly his self-cut pudding-basin haircut, stiffened by mud, grime, sweat and dust, Linlin then stood up.

Meanwhile, his mouth was randomly opening and closing without his input like that of a fish on barren soil. Thirst! And hunger! An intense, equal part desperate as primordial craving ravaged his mind.

Our poor hero felt as if he no longer had a stomach, but a bottomless hole in its place, wantonly demanding delivery of the impossible. What was happening to him was so simple even he understood it almost immediately.

The ceremony provided instructions for recovery and regrowth among other less desirable inputs, whereas Linlin's body supplied the energy necessary to drive the change. Energy he now sorely lacked.

‘Finally awake, Stupid… long story short, look at the interface.’ ‘Shit in the making?’ ‘Depends… bioenergy levels are in mad descent and approaching zero.’ ‘Oi, that’s deadly!’ ‘Ay, that spooky chant did really squeeze the life out of us.’

‘Any other changes? Oh, I see…’ Linlin turned his attention to the interface, where he soon found the answer to his ardent question. One notification–––the most recent–––had disappeared for good, leaving in its place his very first acquired skill.

[Folly-a-Boo] Level 1

A Trioptic Speedster’s most spectacularly useless skill, an unneeded addition you could do perfectly without. Your eyes have changed, containing now laughable slivers of the power to mislead minds. Useless against targets with strong psychic fortitude. Useless against certain species. Very high energy consumption when active.

Caution: Potentially Pangerous.

Level-Up Requirement │ Bioenergy (50)

Comment │

The right skill for the right sucker. You sure agree, don’t you! Kakakah~

‘Boon or bane, I wonder which one it is.’ ‘Why can’t I get the nagging feeling out of my head that we stumbled upon something we shouldn’t have? That sketchy description is what I’m talking about.’ ‘Probably only your darn imagination.’ ‘I hope so, Stupid, I really do.’

‘Whatever, time to grab something to drink and eat–’ ‘and not get eaten in return, I suppose.’ ‘Now you're making me uncomfortable, you know. What does that mean?’ ‘See for yourself, this honourable, tired Chief Strategist delayed his beauty sleep to play watchdog long enough, bye~.’

Great, barely a few minutes passed and Linlin nursed another headache. 'Have I always been that susceptible?' Our hero soon found his lone self often blinking to adapt to the sparsely lit cave, still adhering to the intention of immediately doing his stomach justice.

However, it never came to that. One quick glance made Linlin’s fine hairs stand on end. What he just glimpsed upon was bad enough to justify passing the next couple of minutes by viciously badmouthing his dormant alter ego.

In the silent, enormous hall only his eyes darted around unceasingly. How much Linlin desired for what he saw to only be the stuff of a bad dream in the form of spooky projections, only he knew. Yet even blinking more often than strictly necessary did not help.

The moss-covered, subterranean hall riddled with creamy crystals stubbornly remained the same: A divine artwork of erosion and grandeur. Though, the imposing monument to nature's greatness was not his problem, nor was the trickle of still water of brightest grey winding in between massive, rocky stilts.

Yet not even all the grandeur in the world could obfuscate the billion compound eyes staring unflinchingly at Linlin as if he were a rare breed. Ants, judging by the look of them. Countless ants.

In different sizes and shapes too, stacked one atop the other–––up the walls and down the ceiling, ants everywhere. But not the small specimen at home one might crush under a fit of displeasure, hell no.

One of the most outrageously bizarre specimens barely fitted in the breathtaking hall, its many brethren huddled together all over its giant frame as if they were a monstrous amalgamation of fused parts.

And all were staring straight at him with no intention of doing otherwise anytime soon. Good thing he didn’t suffer from stage fright... Linlin soon noted a few common features shared by all.

The basic body structure was more or less the same: a white exoskeleton covered in various black tattoo-like signs protecting from the most obvious weak points he could think of.

Then there were the compound eyes, antennas of varying length, sharp spike-like legs and impressive mandibles.

Like, really impressive. And if only a fraction of what ants on Earth could do applied to these here too, their fearsomeness knew no bounds. All things considered, the most outlandish occurrence of all was not even the military-oriented set-up following which they stood to attention, no.

It was him sitting on top of a mountain of different worn-out cushions, torn clothes and various other ancient pieces of shredded fabric that had yet to turn to dust–––in the hall's frigging centre no less.

Our hero gulped down a mouthful of dry saliva. He was the animal in the zoo here... “You woke up.” Suddenly, a pleasant voice wormed its way past his gloomy thoughts. “You sure can sleep, Linchester.” It came from the chitinous sea below.

His neck hair tingled in response. It was not claustrophobia.

End of Part V