With a parting wave, they left the inn and made their way to the golden gate leading to the academy delve, Jack's mind so hyper-focused with the adrenaline pounding through his blood that he took in every detail of every rustling rosebush they passed, noting every brilliant petal fluttering in the gentle breeze, and every measuring glance sent their way as they passed countless scores of people, so many of them doing double takes when Jack's eyes caught their own.

As if they knew.

As if the world knew what they were about to dare, his nose twitching with the scents of roses, wood smoke, roasting meat, and sugar glazed pastries in the air, and fear. The stench of so much fear as well. And suddenly they were before the entrance of the dungeon, being given a solemn nod by what Jack took to be an academy student, who was now slowly leading them to a grand hallway where a young woman in white robes with a honey sweet voice was making absolutely sure that their entire party understood the risks involved, that they were welcome to sell whatever treasures they might uncover to the school at fair rates, and that the Academy could take no responsibility for whatever might happen below.

And despite his hyper-awareness, the gentle counsel, the pitying smiles, and the slowly ascending gate, sped past Jack's awareness just as fast as the trip from Inn to entrance.

All over in the blink of an eye.

Because now, they had all just taken their fist step along the oddly slanting stairs that seemed to go on forever, and Jack smelled the sweet musky stench of power and death, and knew as he gazed upon red-veined rock pulsating with unfathomable currents of potency, that he had finally arrived.

He flashed a smile Drake's way, feeling a rush unlike anything he could possibly to put into words, for all that his guts also tingled with dread for those among them that had yet to prove themselves. The handful among them that could dissolve into piles of screaming slime at any moment.

"How you feeling, Drake?"

Drake laughed aloud. "Never better, shieldbrother! How about yourself?"

Jack's smile said all that needed saying, Aroust chuckling softly. "Couple of mad ones, both of you." But his grin said so much more. "Glad to see I'm finally in good company."

Jack turned to Barlton. "How are you feeling?"

The dwarf took a deep sniff with his hairy nostrils and grinned, flashing massive white teeth. "I feel like I just came home!"

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "Even thought you've never entered the Deeps before?"

The dwarf shrugged. "Who says I never entered the Deeps before? This is just like the perfume o' me old cavern. I just didn't pick a class, boyo. There's no stable gate like the one here, back home!"

Drake furrowed his brow. "Then how..."

"Unstable rifts, lad. The warriors among our tribe clear em soon enough. Damned redbeards," the dwarf grumbled.

Jack frowned. "Um... I hate to break it to you, but your beard is sort of..."

"Orange!" Barlton roared. "Orange for Ore, Red for blood!" He snorted. "Bastards close the rifts too soon. Hardly time ta mine any ore at all. Frightened pricks, the lot of 'em, I say. Just afraid of a miner like me finally gettin' his proper class!"

Drake blinked at this. "And what class would be perfect for a miner like you, Barlton?"

Barlton grinned. "Oh, that's easy. Miner, o' course."

Drake blinked. "But I th... right." He smirked and shrugged at the hairy eyeball Barlton was giving him. "It's your life..."

"Damn right it is!"

"It's just that..."

Barlton smirked. "You think mining's a piss poor choice fer a class, is that it, lad?"

Drake blinked, slowly holding up his hands as they proceeded down the corridor of dark grey stone, still veined with streaks of ruby red quartz, the air taking on a definite crimson hue a they passed the first of several brick-lined hallways with evenly spaced doors of hardwood, each radiating an odd stability, marked with runes of resilience radiating a power and potency Jack had already mastered.

"Honestly, I have no idea, Barlton."

Barlton just harrumphed and crossed his arms, before turning Drake's way once more as their feet rang upon what were now definite cobblestone steps. "I'll promise you this, boy. If things work out the way every dwarf dreams, you follow my lead, and I'll do my best to make us both rich as lords. Sound fair, boy?"

Drake blinked then smirked. "Sure. Rich as lords."

"That's the spirit!" Barlton declared with a slap on a wincing Drake's back. "So. Fifty-fifty split fair enough for you?"

Drake frowned. "What do you mean, Barlton?"

"I mean, any ore we might happen to dig up on our first delve!"

Aroust smirked. "He actually thinks we'll find gold? My party and I found a vein of what I swore was copper. Once. None of us with the tools or inclination to mine it, in the middle of a delve."

Barlton flashed a positively wicked grin. "Tell you what, Aroust. I'll let you keep all the copper we mine. How's that?"

Jack, however, was peering intently at Barlton. "Why do I get the feeling that copper is the least of what we'll find?"

Barlton blinked at that. "Well, that's because it is," he said at last.

Jack grinned. "I'm guessing a smart dwarf like yourself knows the best spots to find whatever secrets this dungeon might hold. And of course, you wouldn't want to take advantage of your hardworking friends while you make a fortune in lost veins of silver or gold or what-have-you. So let's say we make it even shares for all?"

He smirked at Barlton's look of mock-outrage, flashing a smile of his own. "I mean, it's only fair, right? Five of us are combat classes, or at least, will be combat oriented, fighting off monsters, for which you'll get an equal share of look and experience. It only stands to reason that we'd get an equal share of whatever ore or anything else you might mine or otherwise discover since we are, after all, a team."

Barlton gazed coldly at Jack for long seconds, though he noted that the dwarf didn't slow his stride. "Two shares for myself, one share for each of you. And that's my final offer!" He roared so loud his voice echoed through the corridor.

And before Jack could answer, Drake had laughed and nodded. "Two shares of whatever you might dig up for yourself, and one share for each of us, and an equal split between all of us for whatever loot we manage to pluck free of our enemies. Done and done!"

Jack laughed. "Sounds fair to me, Barlton. And would you look at that? My skills just ranked up."

Congratulations! Mercantile is now Apprentice Rank 2!

Negotiation is now Apprentice Rank 3!

Barlton's eyes widened. "Are you gonna tell me you're a merchant now? That you got a nose for the worth o' things, like? I thought you were a wizard!"

Jack grinned, even as everyone began to pick up their pace, feeling the pressure intensify. "Who says I can't be both?" He then ceased his banter, hawk-like gaze resting upon the one member of their party he was truly worried for, the one who had never, to Jack's knowledge, dared these depths before as the tunnel began to twist and loop oddly, skirting as they did the infinite possibilities of Shadow and liing dream.

"How are you doing, Veti?"

The girl flashed a pained grimace, and Jack winced as she sucked in a labored breath. "I've been better," she said with a dry chuckle.

An alarmed Jack didn't hesitate, darting forward and snapping his healing artifact upon her wrist. He then looked at the others. "How's everyone else doing?"

Fortunately, everyone else nodded easily enough.

"Airs heavy. But tasty," Barlton said with another sniff.

Aroust flashed a bleak smile. "The air's thick with peril. No one's cleared these dungeons in a long, long time."

Jack frowned. "I thought there were groups that..."

"There are," Aroust said with a curt nod. "Those groups have carved out their own private niches, One claiming Yellow, two others agreeing to split Orange. They have locked their gates, so only the same set of rooms spawn every 72 hours, which means their opponents will always be known, predictable, and infinitely easier to master and kill."

Jack nodded. It of course made perfect sense, recalling all too well how much easier fights were against predictable opponents, at least according to memories that were only partly his own. "I take it there's a downside to that?"

"O' Course!" Barlton declared. "Ya ain't gonna find any rich veins, lockin' yerself in like that! Ya gots ta let the tunnels breathe and warm up to you, just like a woman, if you want her to reveal all her secrets!"

"You're pure class, Barlton," Veti huffed, flashing a pained smile.

Barlton frowned. "Yer not lookin' so good, missy." He glared at the others, picking up the petite woman as easily as Jack would a cart of milk, hardly jostled by her unexpected holler and kick.

"Let me go, you big oaf!"

"Well, boys? Come on! To the gate like ya mean it!" Barlton roared, now charging forward with what Jack thought was alarming speed on his piston-like legs, an alarmed Jack only then thinking of a certain barrier he himself had erected just days ago, both relieved and worried to find it was now a heap of rubble, his Resilience and Pertinax runes having given it incredible stability in the lands of dream, but not enough, thankfully, to stop a moderately high level party's determined blows.

Because if it had, Jack had absolutely no doubt they would have somehow found out who had been responsible, and would probably be having very painful words with him at that very moment.

But the rubble was still there, massive chunks of stone that earned a whistle in passing from Drake as they all proceeded for the gate Jack could just barely see in the dim red light, even enhanced with heat vision and magical sight, at a sprint.

"There ya are, girl! Now don't hesitate, touch it and stabilize yerself... and try not to pick a shit class!" Barlton roared helpfully as he all but tossed the gasping Veti at the crackling portal frame, the girl's hands, more like desperate claws, scrabbled for purchase as she let out a sudden scream as a blinding flash overcame them all... Jack rubbing his eyes to spot a still thankfully alive Veti, though she had the strangest look to her tear-stained eyes, lying prone upon the cold stone floor.

In a heartbeat, an alarmed Drake was by her side. Only now could Jack appreciate just how worried his friend had been, his banter just a way of dealing with the peril he now had to dance with all his days, even if his heart had ached with worry for his friend.

"Veti. What's wrong? Veti! Talk to us!"

The trembling girl finally snapped out of her daze, and Jack was surprised to see her tear-stained face alight not with sorrow, but with wonder, gazing at her own hands in awe.

"Drake... it worked. By all the saints... it actually worked!" She tilted back her head and howled with exhilaration, relief, and perhaps the shakes of death just barely avoided.

Because Jack was all too aware of just how close the girl who had turned squished and pale, almost translucent to his mind's eye, just seconds ago, had come to melting into a puddle at their feet.

But now? She breathed in the red tinged mist with a smile and looked just as real and visceral as all of them. Now, she was one of them, and somehow always had been.

"Wonderful, girl!" Barlton commended with a cheerful pat that sent her sprawling. "So, what class did ya pick? Enquirin' minds want ta know!"

She glared at him for long moments, rubbing her shoulder, before relenting with a cheerful smile. "Arcanist!"

He blinked at that. "Haven't heard o' that one before."

She smirked. "Maybe because it's not a common class?"

"How does it work?"

She sighed, expression turning maudlin once more. "It works by channeling all the insights I gained in magical theory, studying for countless years within the Hidden City, so lost to magical dreams of wonder and adventure that I completely forgot where I was. Who I was..."

She swallowed, eyes lost in memory. "I had entered as an 18-year-old girl with her whole life ahead of her, promising my parents I'd only be spending the summer there. But when I came out? when I came out..." She shook her head, wiping away a bitter tear. "It was just like in one of those awful tales."

Barlton's eyes widened. "The tales where yer wife turns to a hairy ogre or a witch, just because ya slept around? And I don't mean the cute kind o witch that would like to join in the fun. I mean the grumpy kind that will magic you into a wee little piglet before grinding you into sweet sausage and feeding you to the next dwarf that falls for her wicked hedonistic charms."

Veti gazed at Barlton for long moments, before cracking a bemused smile.

Jack blinked, realizing that Veti was actually kind of cute, when she wasn't hiding herself and brooding under her hair. Then Jack furrowed his brow.

"Did someone just raise her Charisma and Appearance scores?"

Veti's cheeks reddened. "Um... maybe?"

Drake couldn't help laughing aloud.

"Don't act like you didn't do the same, Drake who just 2 months ago I was tutoring every week while gently ignoring all your advances, you precious little boy."

Drake smirked and stuck out his tongue. "For your information, I'm eighteen now, in all the ways that count." He then frowned thoughtfully. "And people don't age at all in the Hidden City, so I'm guessing you're not that much older than me..."

"I'm thirty years older, Drake."

"Physically, I mean."

But Barlton was shaking his head, suddenly getting it. "Oh dear lassie! thirty Years passing for you in the blink of an eye! And yer human, not dwarf or elf, so your parents don't have that many decades, do they?"

"Not unless they're academy scholars or earned the right to enter the Hidden City," Drake allowed.

But Veti choked back a sob, lowering her head. "My parents both passed on. And my sisters... they look at me with envy and pity! When I needed them the most, when I needed someone who could understand, someone who's shoulder I could..." She swallowed, tears freely flowing once more.

"Then why did you go back to the college, Veti?" A concerned Jake asked. "You were the best tutor I've ever had, and I had no idea what you were forced to go through. All I knew was that the professors had taken pity on you, and I couldn't imagine why, since you were a brilliant tutor and scholar in your own right!"

Veti flashed a sad smile at that. "Thank you, Drake. Your words... always a comfort." She swallowed. "I went back to the college, even though I had lost the parents who adored me, and the sisters who used to laugh beside me and tell me all their secrets, because I had no one, Drake. No one at all." She squeezed tightly shut eyes filled with tears. "The man my mother had betrothed me to had died, long ago. Years ago of the flux, of all things! And my academy beau?" She sighed and shook her head. "I was told he had tried to reach me in paradise...the Hidden City, several times, but could never find me." she swallowed. "So he turned his attention to practical magic and left the academy for good. I think he joined the military. For all I know, he's a Delver himself."

She flashed a sad smile. "So I went back to the school for the same reason why I decided to join you in this madness. I truly have nothing to lose, and anything is better than the painful memories of my past."

Surprisingly it was Elof who nodded as if he understood completely, the curly haired youth gently helping her back to her feet. "So you left the sorrows of your past behind, and have decided to start your life anew as a Delver like us. Ageless. Possibly immortal, and definitely free to roam the world and explore all it has to offer!"

She flashed a bemused smile for the youth before her. "More or less, Elof. At least this way, I can follow a path of magic that is very real, and put all my years of study to good use. And I'm not limited to a single city, or at best, a single duchy where my magic works, but rather, the whole world! And best of all, I need never worry about losing 30 years of immortality in a dreaming fugue. I can now be alive and in the moment like never before!"

Drake smiled at that. "Here's to fresh starts for all! So, what build are you aiming for?"

Jack blinked at this, surprised to hear the conversation flipping to tactics so quickly, but Veti flashed their leader a rueful smile.

"The exact same build I had in our placard games of Glory's Gamble."

Drakes eyes widened. He flashed an approving grin. "This isn't spur of the moment."

"No it isn't, Drake."

"You were planning this for some time!"

She flashed a bemused smile. "And the spells I struggled so hard to master the underlying theories of, so I understood their inner-workings, and not just the dream of their casting, are now mine to cast at will."

"Veti, that's fantastic!"

She beamed and nodded. "Best of all, leveling up those spell schools only takes half of what it would cost a generalist mage."

Jack's eyes widened. "Wait, half cost? That's incredible!" He nodded thoughtfully. "Arcanist, huh? I'll have to remember that class."

Veti blinked, peering closely at Jack. "You're quite skilled in Low Magic yourself, aren't you?"

Jack grinned, no longer offended by the term. "How could you tell?"

She furrowed her brow consideringly. "You radiate magic, Jack. It comes off you in a constant flood of ethereal waves. The waves of someone who lives and breathes magic. Or, at least those few spells they've actually... " then she frowned, shaking her head. "No. There's no way anyone so young could possibly... just how old are you, Jack?"

Jack smiled. "Eighteen," he said. "And still hunting for my class."

She shook her head in wonder. "Yet you radiate the aura, for those with the finely tuned senses to spot it, of someone who's achieved Elite perfection with his favored spells, well on his way to Mastery." She flashed an arch smile. "A feat few who haven't been studying magic for decades could claim. Many decades, Jack."

Jack shrugged, purposely looking at the crackling gate before them. "Well, with that all sorted out, I think it's about time for us to take that leap. Don't you all?" He then turned to the dwarf.

"Ready to pick your class, Barlton?"

Before blinking at the intensity of the man's gaze.

"Drake?"

"What's up, Barlton?"

"You remember what I said?"

Drake furrowed his brow. "About what?"

The dwarf snorted. "I'd get the party sorted out, if I were you. Everyone kitted up and ready to go, because the minute I pick my class... we're off, and you're letting me take the lead. Agreed?"

Drake frowned, eyeing the dwarf doubtfully for long moments before nodding in thoughtful approval. "You know what? Let's do just that." He flashed a maverick grin. "Now I'm dying to see if the tales are true, oh virgin miner!"

Jack frowned in confusion as his whistling friend abruptly opened his sack, suddenly pulling a wealth of high-quality arms and armaments out of nowhere.

"Here we are, lady and gentlemen! We have before us the finest quality lamellar you'll find anywhere and pretty much every other type of armor that we can cinch to fit you in a jiff! Everyone save our oversized dwarf here, and isn't that a play on words? And as far as weaponry is concerned, I bet I got you covered, and shields as well in spades."

Elof whistled. "You could equip an entire platoon with all that, Drake. A storage treasure like that's fit for royalty!"

Drake laughed. "I'll avoid pointing out the obvious then."

Elof blinked and paled, as if only then fully appreciating how exclusive his present company truly was. "Wait, and you're risking all this... with us? I'm surprised you're not daring this with a couple supremely powerful Delvers by your side."

Barlton snorted. "Not how this works, laddie. Those folks can serve the lords o' this land just fine in the city above our head. But down here, their tale will never be Drake's own. His pa is helpin' with the odds the only way he can, by giving us the best quality equipment any soldier could hope ta have at his disposal."

Aroust smirked, ignoring the impressive spread of arms and armaments suddenly before then, instead pulling out a wicked-looking glaive seemingly out of nowhere. The sleek, deadly-looking weapon seemed more than capable of skewering opponents as well as any spear, or cleaving right through any foe with the power of a battle axe.

"Now that's a weapon!" Barlton beamed in approval. "Much better than that pig sticker you insist on fighting duels with."

Aroust laughed at that. "The beauty of the fencing sword is that it's wonderfully quick, takes elegance and skill to master, and, because it's so narrow and has no real edge, it allows you to completely run your foe through, besting him utterly and claiming a portion of his potency for yourself... without having to land a single fatal blow. Assuming the champion or fool has any kind of access to a healer, of course, and is smart enough not to rip open his own intestines, trying to rip free of your blade. But when not championing duels between lords and popinjays, the glaive is my weapon of choice, which has served me well many times against the horrors beyond this portal."

Jack couldn't help but nod in agreement, before catching Veti's worried glance before helping her don a mail hauberk with some light padding underneath, as well as teaching her how to securely fasten a thin but serviceable half-helm that wouldn't hamper her senses or vision at all.

"Thank you," she said with an anxious smile. Jack just nodded. "Do you want a shield, just in case? Drake has a number of different sizes and weights available."

She swallowed nervously, then gave a quick nod. "My spells only require one hand to cast, so why not? If it helps keep me alive until one of you heroes can save me..."

Jack smirked. "Exactly."

She frowned, peering thoughtfully up at him. "What about you? I see you wearing a very nice looking padded gambeson and quilted leggings, but nothing else."

"Which is good enough for any conscripted soldier, and better than a lot of what we wear, believe me," said Elof, beaming with pride as he shucked off his crudely made jack-of-plates for an elite soldier's fine quilted padding underneath a plate and mail hauberk that no knight would be ashamed to call his own. "Only one man in five even gets trained with a piss poor excuses for a crossbow, the rest making do with spears. As if spears and burlap have a hope of a chance against Velheim rifleers!"

He then froze, blinking owlishly when everyone's gaze locked upon him.

"What?"

Drake flashed an evil smile. "Do we want to know how you know about the plight of conscripted soldiers?"

Elof blanched, a ghastly pallor coming over his features, mouth open in a silent o of protest, though not a sound could be heard.

Aroust smirked at Elof's tremble. "Has someone been a naughty boy?"

"Ooh, I think indeed he has!" Barlton joined in with a grin. And a heartbeat before Elof could bolt like a frightened rabbit, Barlton had already sent him flying with the gentlest of shoves.

"Relax, boy! the prince is only having ya on! You think he's going to let those asshole press-gangs grab a member of his own band? Ha! At least you didn't go running off with any master's silver! And every man should have a right to his own life, I say."

Drake, still chuckling, helped a shaking Elof to his feet. "He's right, Elof. I don't give a rats ass about your past. Only that you serve me... serve our band, in the present. And we got your back in turn."

Elof opened his mouth once more, as if to object to something, before snapping it shut with a rueful chuckle. "I... yes, Your Grace. It will be as you say."

"Good," said Jake with a smile, before his gaze hardened once more. "And once we're done our first delve and the revels that will follow... I want to hear all about life as a conscript. I think the officers standing between the royal family and the men compelled to serve are giving us a picture distorted by too much self-interest, and too little regard for my people."

Elof's blinked. "Your Grace?"

Drake scowled. "Drake. Just Drake."

"Yes, Your... I mean Drake."

"Good. Fact is, every conscript is owed a price in silver sent to the family in recompense for the loss of a young man's back, in the prime of his life. And every single one of you... I mean, those conscripts who have absolutely nothing to do with my party, should be given crossbow training as well as with long spears. Because just as pike formations are the key to any conflicts to the South; crossbows and mages with a knack for flame are the key to our defense from incursions to the North."

At those words Elof stilled, a certain hard glint coming to his eye as they all stood there in the misty stone corridor that felt as much dream as real. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"They didn't give us a lick of silver, sir." Elof's jaw tightened. "Instead they charged us silver. And those who couldn't pay? They were forced to collateralize their family farms. Or..."

"Or?"

"I'd rather not say, sir."

Drake's gaze turned flinty hard. "That bad?"

Elof swallowed before daring to nod.

Drake's hot gaze met Jack's own. "Once we're done here..."

Jack nodded. "We'll do whatever needs doing."

Aroust chuckled softly. "A pair of bloodthirsty hellions you are. Well, good on the both of you. Just don't let your enemies use your sense of justice as a pretext for a coup."

Drake's fierce grin froze in his face, turning to the coldly smiling man. "You have a point, Aroust."

"I would hope so, boy. I've been playing this game for longer than you've been alive."

"So gather the facts and wait before you act," whispered Veti, taking a deep breath and rolling her shoulders as she adjusted to armor that had been ubiquitous for centuries, precisely because it was comfortable, easy to wear, and still gave great protection to the vitals. "Because now we have an advantage that none of our enemies do."

"That's right!" Barlton roared. "We can squeeze this dungeon for ore and gold and potency like a ripe fruit! Now if you ladies have all sorted yourselves out, I'm about to pick my class!"

Drake jerked a quick nod. "Anyone need any extra gear or supplies? I've got whatever you need," he said with a smile.

Jack gazed thoughtfully at his friend. "I don't suppose you have any healing or mana potions along with everything else you have in your storage treasure? Because you never know when you might need them."

Drake smiled. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Elof gave a nervous shake of his head. "We still have a problem, guys."

"And what would that be?" Jack asked.

"Battle formation."

Jack's eyes widened. Elof was absolutely right.

"That's simple," Aroust said. "You and Barlton will be our shield men. Because there's no way that dwarf won't be a frontline fighter, with his shoulders and the way he carries his shield. I'll use my glaive to slip through the cracks between you two and disembowel our foes. Or I'll slip to your left or right sides, flank our foes, and cut them down. As for the mages..."

He frowned consideringly at Jack, Drake, and Veti. "Hard to tell what's best til I know what they can do and have seen them fight. If we enter with plenty of room between ourselves and the enemy, you and the dwarf step aside so that they can take point, launch off a couple magical volleys, then retreat behind you."

Drake nodded. "And don't feel you're stuck with the gear you're wearing, if it doesn't suit you. You've all seen that I have over a dozen full sets of equipment. You can mix and match what works, once we get our first taste of life in the dungeon proper."

The dwarf frowned thoughtfully. "Does any o' that glorious preparation include mining picks, hammers, ropes, cinches and pitons?"

Drake grin was all teeth. "As a matter of fact, it does. Polearms and double shot crossbows as well. Not to mention sleeping rolls, and a full month's worth of water and rations for twice our number."

Barlton whistled. "Well then, whoever packed yer storage treasure with treasures did a bang-up job even a dwarven quartermaster could be proud of!"

"My father values the lives of all those that would dare the deeps with his son. He wanted us to be prepared for any situation, any emergency, and any opportunity for growth." Drake's smirk turned to a rueful chuckle. "Though now that I check, I only have a handful of mining picks and hammers, I'm afraid. Plenty of rope and pitons if we get stuck somewhere, though."

"Good enough!" The dwarf declared, before slamming his massive hands against the crackling lip of the portal. Jack felt an odd frisson in the air. The growing pressure of a storm about to break. Barlton's eyes were wide with wonder, and he roared so loud the tunnel echoed with his cry.

"It is done! My class is chosen! Now to strike while the iron's hot. Follow me, lads, for an adventure we'll never forget!" And without another word, Barlton was the first to jump through the gate, to four looks of stupefaction and Aroust smacking them all forward. "Well, get going! We can't separate! Not now, it's our first jump. Move! Move, or the party's lost!" Aroust roared.

Jolted by the duelist's panicked voice, Jack found himself leaping through the crackling gate, praying he hadn't done something incredibly stupid as he slammed into cold so absolute he couldn't even think, and the darkness swallowed him whole.