According to Sybil, the cave was clearly a place of power for Janus, one of major religious importance, especially for the followers of the God of Heroes. It would be a great boon to the village, as places of power such as this one would attract many seeking pilgrimage and users looking for a blessing. There was even mention that it could trigger a potential new wave of exploration in the area to see if they could find new ruins nearby.

Any attempt to ask whether such places could actually open would get the same response, however. “Only the Gods can open them.”

All of that had turned into stunned silence when the metal door had spoken in a distinctly synthetic female voice.

“Administrator Damon confirmed. Welcome back.”

The first time, it had attempted to open and it had shaken the cave. But on the second try, Damon got the voice, a flicker, and a pop-up.

[…]

Janus Entry Point #241 inoperable.

Critical damage to all systems.

Insufficient power.

[…]

“Definitely broken.”

“That was the voice of the Goddess Rali.” Sybil was shaking as she spoke, taking stumbling steps towards the door and pressing both of her palms against it. “Please open.” Nothing happened, and she swallowed, turning wide brown eyes to look at Damon in stunned silence. “This… this cannot be.”

“It’s a shame it’s broken, but I’m guessing there’s other places?”

“You cannot be a chosen of Janus!” Sybil declared.

“Of course I’m not.” He snorted. “Look, the voice said the place needed repairs. You know if anyone’s, dunno, drilled through or something?”

“The doors of Janus are indestructible and ancient, older than even this very kingdom we stand on. None have so much as scratched their surface let alone destroy them. None would dare!”

“There’s an edict for that?”

Sybil faltered. “No, but-.”

“Champion!” Idina had thrown herself to Damon’s feet, bowing her head until it touched the ground. “Please, I beg for forgiveness! Spare my father, he will repent, we-we-we will serve! I-.”

“Uh… pause for a sec.” Damon took a step back, turning to Sybil, trying to look as confused as he felt.

“The chosen of Janus may rescind divine punishment. Such as the desecration of a place of power.” Her words came in an angry hiss.

Idina whirled and faced Sybil with a determination that startled the user. “You saw the light, heard the Goddess’ voice!” Idina declared. “He is acknowledged!”

“I think I’m going to step outside until whatever this is gets resolved.” Damon pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “Don’t kill each other.”

“Wait!”

Sybil’s call didn’t stop him. Damon marched right his way directly outside and into desperately needed open air. And then he started marching past that, and did not stop until he was entirely and wholly out of sight of the cave entrance. He tried to reason with himself that all he had to do was just ask and find some other entry point, one that wasn’t busted.

Seems simple enough. Sybil had mentioned other such ‘places of power’, right? And this one was number two hundred and forty, the things were probably all over the place. All he had to do was find them, give a knock, go home.

He kept pacing back and forth. He was missing something. The religious implications felt like something he’d want to steer clear of, but there was something else. Why here? Why him? What was he missing from this picture? There were no Gods, the door had a robotic voice, there was a chip planted in his damn brain.

His hand reached to the back of his head, but he held back from touching the metal nub.

“Damon?”

Sybil’s voice startled him out from the pacing. It felt like it had been a good twenty minutes at least.

He stepped out from between the trees, glancing at the two women as they awkwardly stood next to each other. Idina in particular looked several shades of green paler than when she’d entered the cave. Her head was bowed as she walked, and her gaze flickered towards him the moment he emerged.

“So…?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“We… have questions.”

“Not sure what you think you’ll get from me.” He replied. “I’m the guy that’s lost here.”

“You are an ‘Administrator’. Neither of us know what that word means. It is the first time we ever heard it, and the Goddess acknowledged you as such.”

The implied question hung in the air, and Damon grimaced.

“An administrator is someone who has control.”

“...control over what?”

“Over whatever it is they’re administrating.”

There was a confused look Sybil and Idina shared. “We know what an administrator is. But we don’t know what an administrator is.”

The two words had sounded the same to Damon’s mind, yet as he paid closer attention to what his ears were hearing, they were different. Only the second had been spoken in plain English.

He frowned further. “In what language did you hear the message from the door?”

“When the Gods speak, it is always in the tongue of the listener.”

“Well, the two words are the same word.”

“Does…” Idina swallowed. “Does that mean that sir Damon is more than just chosen but meant to impart the God’s will in their stead?”

Sybil shot a glare at the other woman, but clearly hesitated as she turned to look at Damon with the same question remaining unspoken even as it lingered in her eyes.

“Look, I’m as confused as you two. I don’t know how I got into that cave, I never heard of Janus or anything about this place before I woke up. And though this thing in my head says I’m an administrator, it keeps repeating that it needs connection to some sort of network to work.”

“The Gods chose you.” Idina’s words were spoken with determination, her eyes staring at Damon with a conviction that stung to look at. “She might not believe it, but I do.” He could only grimace and turn to Sybil.

“We… agreed to keep this secret until we can find out more. Doing anything without certainty could be dangerous for everyone, you in particular.” It was a concession, and something else hidden in her tone, a hesitation. “I also found remains of other users, and some scraps from the familiar, which corroborates Idina’s story.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“The question is for the punishment.”

Both of them stared at Damon long and hard, and he could only grimace. “I’d rather it be just forced labor, pay back what they took.”

Idina nodded sharply, stepping closer but stopping at a raised hand from Sybil.

“I will talk with Han.” Sybil said. “We’ll… suggest extreme leniency, put the blame on the merchant, and claim he pressured the village into it.”

Damon frowned a little. “Will this put you into trouble?”

The answer was brusque. “No. The merchant dealt in axons, the investigation that will ensue will look for his clients. This will corroborate the claim.”

“Ok.” He nodded.

“I believe we should head back.” Sybil pushed, giving Damon a weird look, the emotions behind her eyes entirely unreadable. “Today’s events have… left much to think about.” She appeared drained as she glanced at Idina. “And we will not tell anyone of this.”

Idina in turn glanced at Damon, who nodded. “Let’s just go and pretend we didn’t find anything weird.”

That settled, Idina nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The way back to the village was several orders of magnitude more awkward than when going to the cave. Damon could feel the stares from Sybil and Idina on the back of his head whenever he took the lead, and marching behind the group only resulted in them glancing over his way every other minute.

“Could either of you explain what this whole ‘chosen of Janus’ means?”

“The Champion of Janus is the one who leads all users, sir.” Idina quickly spoke. “Their word has the same weight as that of a king. But there has not been a champion in over a hundred years.”

Damon arched a brow, glancing at the deathly quiet Sybil. “What decides who’s the champ?”

“The chosen of Janus must be the strongest user. They must defeat a dragon lord in single combat, the most dangerous monster in existence.” Sybil lowered her gaze to the piece of dried fruit she’d been snacking on. “The former chosen was Porthos the Magnificent. He used his familiar for flight, and fought with a thunder-blade.”

“You said dragon.” Damon’s brows lowered. “Big scaly thing, wings, breathes fire?”

Sybil perked up. “Yes. Do you know of them?”

“If it’s anything like the thing from my world’s mythology, I will wish luck to whatever sorry bastard has to go against one of those without a couple dozen javelins and an attack helicopter.”

“Your world doesn’t have dragons?”

“Nope, it’s only in stories.”

That took away some of the motivation from Sybil.

“They killed them all?” Idina asked, looking at him with eyes that were a bit too intense.

“Never existed.” Damon replied, waving his hand. “What likely happened was that some people found bones from the old dinosaurs and their imagination went from there.”

“What are ‘dinosaurs’?”

“Big scaly lizards that lived billions of years ago but went extinct.”

“Because humans hunted them all?”

“That would’ve been intense, but no, some big rock fell from the sky and killed them all. Just like that, wiped out every gigantic creature in the world overnight. We weren’t even around at the time, humans showed up much later.”

There was a long silence. Sybil and Idina shared glances, there it was, that unspoken conversation that Damon could not hear because of the hymns. His only clue to what was going on was Idina’s persistent glare and Sybil flinching.

“Anything I should know?” He finally asked.

“I… want to apologize.” Sybil spoke, lowering her head marginally. “I remain unsure why I became so angry over your stone throwing, but it is clear it is very important to you. I should have controlled my temper better.”

“Do humans pay respect and tribute to rocks since one killed all the monsters?”

Damon couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing, much to the other two’s confusion.

Upon reaching the village, the first thing they noticed was that the number of holes for traps had increased. Apparently they’d been kept busy. They found Han working to complete one of the traps. He’d take the sharpened spikes and plant them on the ground, tying them to a wooden pole laying against the dirt to ensure they remained perpendicular.

The bearded man had stopped half-way through, head poking out of the hole he’d been occupying and staring at their approach.

“What happened?”

“There’s indeed a place of power, but we’ll talk later.” Sybil responded with a snap, her gaze darted at Damon. “Privately.”

She might have said that, but Damon could feel more and more eyes turning in their direction. “Any news from the prisoner?” He tried to change the subject.

“Mostly asking about Idina. Ah, the familiar spawned again. I put it in a box.”

“Another?” Damon felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge.

“Familiars are born out of the user, or knight, in this case. It’s a graft on their backs or chest.” Han explained with a shrug. “If the familiar is outside of its owner’s range for a month or more, it dies, and when it dies, the user’s graft makes another. They start off tiny though, and will only grow if they eat monsters.”

“Neat. Here’s hoping I don’t need to stab this one, too.” Damon declared with a sigh. “It seems I’m staying for the time being. What happens now?”

The blond man leaned against the edge of the hole, sharing a look with Sybil. “We’ll flip a coin and see who gets to stay in the village and who leaves for the larger village further down the mountain to send a report.”

“We will also ask for the next merchant caravan to hurry over.” Sybil included, receiving an odd look from Han. “The users escorting them will stay here guarding the village and prisoner while they wait for the replacement knight.”

“I could do the trip on my own faster.” Damon offered.

“No!”

Idina and Sybil had stated at practically the same time, earning even more odd looks from everyone involved.

“You… you shouldn’t go alone. Your lack of a hymn would draw suspicion and trouble.” Sybil quickly added.

“I guess.” He shrugged.

“You shouldn’t be in too much of a hurry if you’re coming with us to Sky Bridge.” Han said from the hole. “Taking the chance to learn a couple things would prevent many problems.” Han’s lips curled upwards with some amusement. “Sybil here almost got herself sent to prison because she beat someone up.”

“They questioned my skills as a fighter. I helped them see the errors in their perceptions.” She crossed her arms, snorting loudly.

“Either way, once the message reaches the town, it should only be a week or so before a caravan comes.”

“I guess the village could do with more traps.” Han deflated a little. “By the way, why haven’t they built traps before? Seems like a waste.”

“They didn’t have a need. The knight alone could deal with the monsters around these parts.” Han proclaimed. “Places this remote have eminent threats at the start, and then it’s reduced as the older monsters are killed until it becomes mostly not much of a challenge. There are exceptions, sure, but those are places that stand next to massive swaths of land that have been untouched for eons.”

“Like the eastern swamplands.”

There was something in Sybil’s voice that gave Damon pause, but she didn’t elaborate.

“I’ll be going in, get cleaned, rest, and all that.”

Han sighed, nodding. “Just make sure the ‘all that’ isn’t as loud this time.”

“What?”

Idina’s face turned several shades of darker green. Sybil snorted and rolled her eyes, looking away. Han chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. Damon’s eyes narrowed, seems he was going to have a talk with Linda.

Like many other races across the galaxy, the Zuun had long ago been engineered for the hardships of space-travel. They were peculiar in that they were one of several dozen modified species that came from the same originator species. Usually, the races would orient their modifications in a particular direction and keep it at that. But with the originators, they had split the modifications by certain desired specializations when it came to life in the stars.

And the Zuun had been made intending to maximize survivability and toughness. Their bodies were designed to survive extreme acceleration even if they lacked the strength to handle any gravity that wasn’t the galaxy standard. Along with this, they had a metabolism that could slow down to a near hibernative state in case of serious injury or an extreme lack of resources such as breathable air or food.

Emilie woke from hibernation, feeling like she was just one stiff shake from dying.

Everything around her was dark. She could not pick out any light, meaning she was still inside the ship. The lack of gravity confirmed this, her EVA suit warning her she’d been hibernative for at least twenty sleep cycles.

Emilie didn’t bother to try and move, instead trying to determine what was the damage before she could make it worse accidentally. She could feel several of her bones were tender, but not broken. Her organs were complaining, but not from pain. Slowly, she groaned her way into activating the EVA suit lights.

She was still strapped to the captain’s chair.

The computer was unresponsive, meaning not even backup generators were functional. EVA readings pointed there was no atmosphere, so that meant there was a hole somewhere in the ship.

Or that maybe part of the ship was gone entirely.

“At least I can’t be penalized while the overseer is offline.” She grumbled, fumbling her way to releasing the straps to the chair. A look around the cockpit, and nothing looked broken other than the fact that the lights weren’t turning on. “Time to assess the damage.”

She reached the door.

It didn’t open.

Reaching for the manual override, she opened the panel and pulled the lever.

The doors groaned, but did not open. She tried again, with the same results.

“Uh oh.”