You take out your cell phone and call Cici.

. . .

No response.

You call Kate.

"Hey," answers Kate. "What's up?"

"Cici's not here yet," you tell her. "And she's not answering her phone."

There's some slight hesitance from the other line.

"I mean... she's Cici, right? What's the worst that could happen?"

"I don't know," you admit. "That's what I'm worried about. ...That cop seemed pretty pissed earlier."

"I'm almost off work," Kate says. "I gotta take care of some stuff after, but like... she's gotta be fine. Cici could take the whole police force by herself, she's like the last person we need to worry about."

"...Yeah. You're probably right."

"I'll call you after work!"

Hmm.

Hmmmm.

Kate's probably right but you need to distract yourself.

You wander around the house for a while, looking for any changes that may have resulted from lighting that candle in the dungeon.

Nothing stands out, though.

Nothing has changed.

There's no new entrances,

the walls haven't shifted.

Still no washer.

Still no dryer.

No secret basement.

No absence of a back door.

. . .

There's no back door not there.

There is not no back door.

"What the fuck?," you mouth, before attempting to say it out loud. "I do not have no back door. ... This house doesn't not have a back door."

You squint.

Is this the Brainsate? Are you having a stroke?

You stare hard at where the backdoor wouldn't be if it wasn't. Or where it would be if it was, which it is.

"There is a back door," you state aloud. It doesn't feel like lying.

...So why can't you see it?

Or understand it; the longer you stare at where the back door definitely is the less sense it makes that there's a back door there.

Attempting to perceive the back door that your brain has apparently already accepted the existence of is just giving you a headache.

You consider just... going, and opening it, but the idea of opening a door you can't experience (yet one that totally exists) fills you with a very peculiar dread. Your mind does not like to consider the logistics. It... it has to be some kind of magic perception filter or something. Of the three of you, one of you should have noticed the back door.

... You can't notice the back door now, and you know it's there.

You walk outside, into the front yard.

You approach the fence.

There's... definitely room for a backyard behind it.

Maybe if you hop the fence--

"Plaire!," shouts a familiar voice from a few houses away.

You turn...

and spy Cici

...carrying a couch down the road.

"Cici!," you yell back. "What the shit? I called and you didn't answer!"

"I was carrying a couch!," she announces.

Once she gets closer, she continues. "We had this extra couch sittin' in the back never getting used, so I figured I'd bring it. ...It wouldn't fit on the bus."

"So you fucking walked it here?"

"Yeah?" she says simply. She shrugs, still holding a couch overhead. "I needed to work that burger off."

You hold the front door open. It takes a little effort to turn it right, but eventually, Cici puts the couch in your living room. You move the metal chair out of the way a bit.

"Be aware," you state, holding back a grin, "the third conviction for library theft is a felony."

Cici does not immediately find it funny. "Wait, really?"

"In Misuschaqua, yeah." You know a lot of goofy trivia. Thanks, the internet. "I don't know about other states, but you can only steal one more item from a Misuschaqua library before it stops being a misdemeanor."

"Huh," Cici remarks. Her brow furrows a little; she actually seems a little shook by the idea of having committed 1/3rd of a state offense. ...Whoops

"D... do you want to take it back?," you ask. "I could help you carry it, if you're really worried about--"

"No!," she blurts out, before giving a more thoughtful "...No. Kate doesn't have a monopoly on being cool and rebellious. I can do crimes, too, Plaire. I can steal a couch."

. . .

"You know," you begin to point out, "if we divvy up the heat, we could all three confess to two library thefts each. Then you can steal six couches, total, and it's not a felony."

Cici nods solemnly. "But what if Kate flips, and I get stuck with all six charges? That's a double felony."

"True, true." You nod, and stroke your chin. "Kate's been solid about the house stuff, but it could all be part of a bigger scheme to get free couches--and pin you with the damage while she gets away scot-free." You're pretty good at keeping yourself from laughing, but seeing Cici struggling not to giggle is making it much, much harder. "We should get our stories straight ahead of time. Officially, I stole this couch; this first 1/3rd of a felony is mine. I'll take the rap."

"Thank you," Cici says with a small smile. Though it has turned into jokes, you seem to have made her feel better. ...About the thing you scared her about in the first place.

"Don't fucking thank ME," you practically shout, "you carried a god damn couch over here. ...That I stole. Officially. Thank you."

Cici smiles wider. "I... I've been kinda worried. ...That I haven't been doing enough, compared to you and Kate. I know, it's dumb, but it feels like you guys are solving this crazy mystery and I just--"

"Cici." Jesus Christ. "I almost had a fucking episode because I thought I wasn't pulling my weight. Trust me, you're doing enough. You're doing..." You look, again, at the couch. It has a little wear and tear, but it's a nice couch. "You're doing more than enough. You are... going above and the fuck beyond."

Cici gives a small nod, and sniffs.

A moment of silence follows

which Cici finally breaks. "...Kate's really good at this, huh?"

"Kate's extremely good at this," you concede. "Kate's a detective and a cat burglar and a rock star at the same time and it's terrifying."

"AND she has a hot mom!," Cici asserts.

GOD. DAMMIT

"Or so I hear," she adds, god dammit

...But

"...She's about the same level of lost and confused as we are when it comes to the dungeon." You adjust your glasses, and put your hands on your hips like you're giving some big motivational speech. "She's still new to the dream stuff. So am I, so are you. ...Which puts us on an even playing field."

"This is our chance to also be bad asses," Cici says, clenching one big fist. You can hear her pronounce the space in the middle of the word badasses.

"Three thirds badasses," you say aloud, immediately realizing that it does not sound cool at all but it's too late you have to own it "...instead of only 1/3rd badasses."

"Yeah," says Cici with a tightened smile. She doesn't want to tell you it was lame but you can feel it. "3/3rds bad asses," she repeats god no just act like you didn't say it, don't turn it into a thing ugghhh why are you both such huge dorks

Your phone rings.

You answer the phone. "Hello...?"

"Hey," says Kate on the other line. "Cici make it?"

She sounds... out of breath.

"Yeah," you reply, "she's here, we're good."

"Cool," Kate replies, immediately followed by "Someone beat the shit out of Harv."

"Your drummer? What the fuck? Why?!"

"Don't know," Kate huffs. "On my way to the hospital now. He was at work; said a couple dudes in masks--one of 'em engineered--rolled up on the place, caught everybody by surprise with tire irons and shit. Three injured, total."

"Fuck." You don't even know what to say. "Do... do you think it was Mondol...?"

"Not sure," she says. It sounds like she's walking, or is out in public somewhere. "The timing's suspish but it'd take some big ol' FUCKIN' BAWLS to pull this so soon after the fire at Maria's. Harv's got a history with biker gangs... everybody working at that auto place has probably got a record. Could've been Mondol, could've been anybody with a grudge. Could've been anybody, period."

"I'm noticing a trend," you grumble.

"You guys might have to start the festivities without me," Kate states. "I'm gonna be here late asking questions."

"What?" Shit. Shit shit shit. You get it, but-- "Kate--"

"Ezra didn't say anything about the ring's range," interrupts Kate, "just that you had to think of a person and know their true name. My name is Kate Halford. Bring Cici in the normal sleepover way, try to bring me in with the ring. We can see how that shit works when I'm halfway across town."

You nod.

"Plaire--"

"Yeah," you blurt out. Phone. Right. "That... that should work. Yeah."

"Cool," concludes Kate. "I'll see you guys later. ...Be careful."

She hangs up.

"Was that Kate?," Cici asks. "What'd she say?"

Hoo boy.

You take a deep breath, and explain what you know of the situation.

"...Oh," Cici replies. "Damn. Now I feel bad that we talked all that smack about her."

"I mean..." You smile a little, and shrug. "I wouldn't say we were talking smack; we unanimously agreed she's a stone cold badass, and we can only hope to compete by literally dragging her into another dimension."

"Yeah," says Cici, "but we were very salty about it."

"Oh, yeah!" You almost forgot amidst all the commotion, "I discovered my back door is weird. Or... I realized it's weird."

Cici squints. "Back door...? This house has a back door?"

You step out of the way, motioning toward where the back door still totally is and has always been.

"Look," you tell her.

Cici steps forward, straining. Staring.

You see the confusion wash over her face.

"...What the heck?," Cici finally asks. "There is a door there! I think. Yeah! ...Yeah?"

"Right?" You're glad it's not just you. "It's like I know it's there but I don't know how I know it's there. I can't see it."

Cici steps up to it, and runs her hand across the wall.

Across the door.

Where the door should be. Is.

Cici immediately stumbles back from the door/wall.

"Oh no that's not right," she declares. "That doesn't feel right at all."

"Sh... should I open it?"

"No," Cici blurts out. "Nooo. Any idea where it leads?"

"I have a back yard," you point out. "It might lead outside. ...I haven't been in the backyard yet."

Cici nods. "Let's go look in the backyard!"

The two of you head to the front yard, and approach the fence.

"Can you give me a boost?," you ask Cici. She nods, and holds her hands out, palms upward; you step onto her hand, and she helps lift you up to peek past the top of the fence.

Your reaction to what you see is instant. "Oh my god," you mutter. "You're not going to believe this, Cici."

"What?" Her eyes widen, but she keeps you steady. "What is it?"

"I..."

You can barely believe it yourself--

a magic perception filter afflicted on the back door, all to hide...

this?

"I think the witches were growing level."

"What?!" Cici does a double take. "You're sure it's level, and not just... I dunno, witch herbs? I heard eye of newt's really just witch code for mustard seeds. Are you SURE it's not just mustard?"

To be fair, you don't know what a mustard plant looks like.

Lora briefly attempted to grow level by the creek behind her house, though. The plants looked a lot like the plants currently growing in your backyard.

...These are bigger, admittedly. Lora's crop never really took off.

"It looks a lot like level," you finally reply. "Oh, and there's a porch light..." You lean over the fence a little. "I... can see the other side of the back door. I think."

"Son of a bitch!," huffs Cici. "No porch light in the front, but there's one in the back? That's not just irresponsible, Plaire--that's anarchy. Who knows what kind of madness those witches were capable of?"

"The witches were stoners," you practically giggle, still fixated on the plants. Like... straight up. Just growing level in the backyard. The plant is illegal, so you understand needing to conceal it, and maybe it has some other strange arcane properties you can't guess from a glance, but STILL

using forbidden mystical arts to hide your stash. What the shit.

"Alright," you tell Cici. "I'm going in. Meet me inside the house."

"Be careful!"

You flop over the top of the fence, mostly landing on your feet on the other side.

Mostly.

You sort of... tuck and roll. Over. Onto the ground.

You didn't crash straight into the level, though, so at least there's that.

Once you've climbed back to your feet, you take a moment to examine the plant. Yup. It definitely looks like level. The smell is a little stronger (and... stouter?) than you expected, but it IS a pretty tall plant. ...You're not sure if that would affect the scent or not.

You approach the back door.

You don't feel any weird vibes from it from this side, though that doesn't make you any less concerned about what's going to happen when you open it.

You take a deep breath.

You try the door knob.

It's locked.

You take out your house key--

it fits.

You unlock the back door

and walk through it.

It feels strange to pass the threshold, but otherwise it functions like a back door hypothetically should.

"That's weird," Cici remarks.

"Yeah," you reply. "It fucking is though."

You step back outside.

This time, Cici follows.

You both take a moment to just... stare at the door, and the yard, and puzzle over this entire affair.

"I don't like it," Cici finally states.

"I don't either," you reply. "Door's weird."

"Door's weird," she agrees. "I don't wanna be a stickler, buuut..." Cici wanders the backyard a bit, looking over your house. "...Now that I'm looking at the whole thing, I don't think any of this makes sense."

You step over to where she is, looking at the house from her perspective (but lower). "What do you mean...?"

"Front door, two stairs," she says. "Back door, one stair."

You shrug. "Maybe the foundation's uneven...?"

Cici winces. "HmmmmI don't think I buy it."

You're both looking at the same house. You know she's right.

Your living room floor should have a noticeable slant, one that you have not in fact noticed and that may not in fact be there.

It's hard to say, but the inside of the house also feels... shaped. Differently. Than the outside looks. You briefly consider taking measurements, but you're pretty sure you already know the answer and also don't actually want that answer.

"I'm going to look up whether or not this is really level," you declare, and head back inside. Cici follows.

After spending a bit of time at your computer--both researching level, and showing Cici fun cat videos--you believe you have reached a conclusion.

"So," you begin to explain, "there's different types of level, I guess? The primo top-of-the-line stuff is harder to grow--it takes a specific temperature and humidity, and growing it pretty much requires a rig if you don't live in a very particular part of the world. ...Assuming no magic was involved with growing our level, it's been sitting there for months, growing with absolutely no help in an extremely shitty climate, so I think we have the opposite of whatever the best level is. The rough smell points to that, too."

Cici nods. "First off--it's not our level, it's your level, so you better go ahead and get that story straight."

You smile, and quietly chuckle, and nod.

"Second," Cici continues, "why don't you think it was grown with magic?"

You inhale deeply for another spiel. "The inside of the back door is invisible, but the outside isn't. The inside of the house is indestructible, the outside isn't. Sleeping inside the house gives me the dungeon dream, sleeping outside the house doesn't. I think whatever magic this house has, stops at this house... it doesn't travel past the walls, not even into the backyard. If it could affect the growth of the level, why not just hide the level entirely? Why only hide the back door, and only from one side? My guess is that's the best they could do within the limitations of the house."

"Huh," Cici replies. "Makes sense! So is that level not as good, or...?"

"Properly treated, it shouldn't be any less potent than normal level," you inform her. "...But from what I've been reading, smoking it's like inhaling a cheap cigar. Like, someone described the experience as violent. One article suggested only smoking that kind of level if you genuinely and inexplicably hate your lungs."

"Damn!," exclaims Cici.

"Yeah," you concur. "Apparently, one or both witches rolled nasty."

While you're here, you decide to look up Somniplan, the word that was written on the inside of the brochure Temperance Walsh gave you.

You start to type it into the search bar, but stop short; should you be doing this in privacy mode? Or through a proxy server...? What if Somniplan is magic related, or otherwise tips off the feds that you're doing thangs

...But then you realize the search bar is auto-suggesting the rest of the word Somniplan for you. Clearly, it's not THAT uncommon of a search.

You hit Enter, and look at the results.

SOMNIPLAN™, for the treatment of nightmare disorder.

Ask your doctor if Somniplan™ is right for you.

Now that's a band name.

Despite sounding fucking sweet, nightmare disorder is really just a catch-all term for frequent adult nightmares. Technically speaking, it's a parasomnia. Somniplan is recommended for individuals whose nightmares regularly cause a lack of sleep, or for whom nightmares affect their ability to function throughout the day. It can also treat some tossing-and-turning and a few breathing issues, but it's almost exclusively marketed for the nightmare thing.

The internet says that, as of studies done a decade ago, only about 4% of the population of the States have nightmare disorder. ...But here's a mass marketed medication for it, so clearly the math has changed in ten-ish years.

You explain all this to Cici.

"Huh," she remarks. "Think it'd keep you from dreaming about the dungeon?"

You shake your head. "I have... no idea. I'm also not sure if Temperance wrote that Somniplan note herself. ...Or if it was even intended for me. If the answer to both those questions is yes, then she knows more than she's letting on. ...If the answer to either question isn't yes then that's a hell of a coincidence."

Cici's face scrunches up. "Yeaaah I don't think the scary mayor's secretary accidentally suggested a way for you, of all people, to stop having nightmares. That's a bit much! She's GOTTA know what's going on!"

You nod. "...Yeah. Yeah, I think she knows something, maybe as much as the mayor does. I don't know if telling me about Somniplan is meant to help me or help me stop, though. It might just be Temperance's polite way of telling me to back off, in contrast to Mayor Parsons trying to fucking scare us."

You're still a little mad about that.

It's starting to get late.

"We exchanged true names, right?" It should only matter for the use of the ring--and you know you've exchanged names with Kate--but still, just in case.

"I think so, yeah," Cici confirms with a small nod.

"I'm Plaire Stevens," you tell her.

Cici smiles. "I'm Cici... uh... well, just Cici. Anything else we should do before we try this thing...?"

You microwave a potato, and make yourself a little salad.

While eating dinner, you sit down with Cici and go over what you know about the dungeon--how it works, what to expect, things of that sort.

You realize that a lot hinges on hypotheticals; you believe you'll spawn in the heart room. You think the boss fight will have multiple phases. You think you should have enough time to strip the face off the wall, but you don't know if the wall will stop at that point--it could accelerate for a second phase, for all you know. You think the locked door nearest to the stairs should hold something valuable, though (like the heart room and candle room) you may not immediately be able to use whatever's there.

Your plans and strategies both, at present, rely on a lot of assumptions that are based almost entirely on video games. ...At the same time, these assumptions have mostly held up, and have gotten you this far.

"So what happens to Kate when you use that ring?," Cici asks. "Is she just gonna pass out, or what?"

"I have no idea," you confess. "Ezra said it's harmless, but I don't think Ezra knows the full scope of what the ring's supposed to do. ...I'm going to guess not many 80s kids were using the ring for what I'm using it for. It might not even work, it just feels... suspicious."

"It's too big a coincidence to just be a coincidence," Cici states.

"Yeah," you concur. "That. ...There's a lot of that happening, and I don't really like the implications, but again: it keeps working. Assuming that no coincidences are JUST coincidences has gotten me this far."

Cici squints. "...What kinda implications?"

You take a slow, deep breath. "I've always had nightmares. Like, really vivid, frequent nightmares, before I ever moved into this house. That could be nothing. MondolGroup's trying to take over a town that's basically falling apart on its own, doing probably illegal shit for... what? To get rid of one grocery store? To intimidate some local bikers? Is that JUST how ruthless even the smallest corporations are now, or does Mondol know something? Like, there's SO MUCH weird shit going on under the surface--literally, because this town has old mines and shit, too. I don't know what's involved and what's just... Ninelives being Ninelives."

Cici gives a skeptical but understanding nod. "You think there's a bigger picture."

"I think there's a way, way bigger picture," you reply, "and I don't like being such a small, confused piece of it."

You think back to what you saw through the window.

What you felt.

The pounding on the sky.

Like it was itself a window, or a glass shield.

Things much bigger than you, both physically and otherwise.

Held back.

Unable to stand where you were standing.

Furious.

You felt it earlier, too--in the room where you found the sword.

Beating on the walls, like something outside indignantly demanding to be let inside

but inside is your brain.

The dungeon is a product of both your mind and your house, and you'd really rather not have anything with an above average number of mouths or eyes in either of those places.

You show Cici the maps and notes you've been working on in your spare time, you give her a general run down of enemies and traps that may be encountered, and how to best approach the boss--a subject slightly complicated by not knowing how Cici will manifest in the dream. You somehow doubt she'll be a fire-spawning demon doll like Kate was.

"So what's our goal?," Cici asks. "Are we going after the boss, or...?"

"Probably," you answer with some hesitance. "Maybe. It might depend on what's behind that locked door, and whether or not the candle room and the heart room do anything new. I still think the triangle symbol downstairs is connected to the candle room somehow--like, the candle room's lit but it's not activated, if that makes any sense."

"I feel like I need to play more video games," Cici remarks. "Like, in general! 'Cuz I'm barely following here."

You smile a little. "Yeah, it's... very videogamey. I'm still not sure if that's because of me, or if there's some sinister cabal of game developers behind all this bullshit. ...Probably won't have an answer to that until we find Franklin."

You start to get your equipment in order

and run into a small logistics issue.

You stare, briefly, at your gear, your bed, and your dirty laundry box.

"What is it?," Cici asks.

"...So like," you begin, trying to process how to phrase this, "on the second night I did an experiment with potatoes? Anything not in my pockets doesn't go with me. The clothes I wore throughout the day go with me, even if I take them off before bed, and a potato in my pocket goes with me as long as I wore those pants when I was awake, but--"

"Ohhh I gotcha!," Cici declares. "You can't put the armor in your pocket, you know it won't come with you if you just leave it in the box, and you don't know if you wore it enough for it to... uhhhh... for it to count?"

"Yeah," you reply. "Basically. ...I might have to sleep in the armor."

You give it a little more thought.

"...While hugging the polearm and the toolbox, I guess, because those aren't going in my pockets either."

"Kate's backpack is still here," Cici points out.

"Yeah," you reply, "but God only knows what else she has in there, and I'd still have to sleep in a backpack."

"Does stuff you're carrying to bed still show up in the dream?," Cici asks. "Have you tried... snuggling with a potato?"

"I have not," you admit, trying not to laugh. "...I'm relying a lot on optimism tonight. It's not been a primo strat so far, but it's the best I've got."

Cici smiles.

You put on the fightball gear, the helmet, and the MMA gloves.

You shove your ropes and keys and tools into the toolbox.

You take your makeshift polearm and toolbox to bed with you.

It is not very comfortable.

Cici rolls out the sleeping bag, and the two of you lay there in silence for a while.

It is (not surprisingly) difficult to fall asleep in body armor, while clutching a weapon and a toolbox you found in a junkyard.

You try to think about Kate as you're falling asleep.

You wake up in a soft bed

in the heart room.

"Holy shit." You sit up in bed. Your voice is muffled by your helmet.

It worked. It all worked. Your armor's here, the polearm is here, the toolbox is here--so if you're holding it OR wearing it when you fall asleep, it comes with you.

"Plaire!," Cici yells. "I'm smaller! Did I get turned into a doll? Wait--"

You turn toward the source of the voice.

Cici inspects her wings. "I got wings! PLAIRE! I'm a BIRD!"

"Uhhh..."

"I'm a bird I'm a bird I'm a bird!," she emphatically chants, hopping around on what is clearly three legs.

"You're... kind of a bird."

Cici wavers a bit as she flaps herself into the air, fluttering toward you.

"What do you mean," she asks, "kind of a bird?"

"You're..." you squint. "You're an egg...?"

Boy does that raise some questions.

"What?!" Cici almost bumps into your helmet trying to hover in place. "Why am I in an egg?"

"I don't know," you admit.

You look around the room. "...I don't know where Kate is, either." Same striped room; nothing you can see has changed since last time.

"Maybe it didn't work 'cuz she's still awake," Cici suggests. "Or something. I dunno. I'm a BIRD!"

You grip your polearm in one hand, the handle to the toolbox in the other...

and spot the note on the bed.

While Cici excitedly flaps around the room, trying out her newfound birdness, you inspect the note.

... Oh.

Fuck.

That definitely said 12 last night.

You didn't die--you faded out

which means whatever this countdown represents,

it doesn't matter how you go out.

And it is, definitely, a countdown.

You turn the page over, just to make sure there's nothing--

Oh.

Shiiit?

After several moments of trying to get your glasses to fit inside your helmet in a way that's conducive to writing a legible message, you finally just take the helmet off and sit down on the edge of the bed. You take the pen out of your pocket, and--

"Plaire!," Cici yells. "Look what I can do!"

You look up to see her shooting... arrows. Made out of energy.

"Whoosh! Whoosh whoosh!" She makes little laser shooting noises as she launches the arrows. Cici can fire them pretty rapidly, but they don't go very far--the range before the arrows fade from existence is pretty short.

"Oh, shit," you respond. "So Kate gets fire, you get... light?"

Cici turns, and does a small double take. "What happened to your face?"

You reach up and touch your face

and feel the seams

and the soft, puppety surface of your cheeks.

Oh, god dammit. You really ARE Frankendyke.

Apparently having Kate's power in the dream or whatever doesn't mean manifesting her here physically, it means... jacking her aesthetic?

Wait.

"I think I might have Kate's powers," you realize out loud. Focus, though. "...I need to finish this note real quick, then I'll try it out. I think that's what the ring might actually do, though."

Note. Note note note.

Uhhh. Fuck it.

You suspect that this could be one of the witches. Maybe she's stuck in the dream, or stuck in between the dream and reality, or maybe she's in prison for murdering the other witch or... something, whatever, who the fuck knows.

If it's NOT one of the witches, though, then you don't want to give out too much information about yourself. ...Or maybe even if it is one of the witches. You don't know that the witches were good, per se, or that a surviving witch would be all that eager to help you understand her magic house.

You also really, REALLY want to find someone who knows what the hell is going on, though, so

You put the note down. That should suffice for now; you won't get any more answers from the blood note until the next time you enter the dungeon.

You stand and put your helmet back on.

You hold one gloved hand forward.

"Oh, snap!," Cici declares, fluttering out of the path of your palm. "You tryin' it?!"

"I'm trying it," you confirm with a small smirk to yourself.

You take a breath

and think about conjuring fire, the way Kate did.

FWOOSH

you launch an enormous fireball across the room; it ejects from your hand with so much force that the recoil knocks you back onto the bed. Cici, despite having already moved out of the way, is still forced into a spin out of the air as she dives out of the blast radius.

The fireball explodes against the back wall, leaving a faint scorch mark and a lot of smoke.

"Holy SHIT," you blurt out, sitting up and scrambling to your feet.

"Damn, Plaire!" Cici shakes it off and kicks back into the air. "Can you shoot a smaller one?"

"Maybe," you reply. You weren't really trying to shoot a gihugic fuck-off blast the first time, it just kind of happened that way.

You hold out your hand again. This time, Cici gets behind you, and to the side of the bed a bit.

Inhale.

FWOOSH Gigantic fireball. You are once more deposited firmly onto your ass.

"Alright," you mutter as the explosion fades, "it turns out I can't shoot smaller ones. ...Or not shoot them. It's always huge and immediately leaves my hand. Kate could just like... hold it."

That's all she could do. You and Kate have literally opposite problems with her power set.

Also, you can feel how much energy those fireballs took out of you. The difference between you at present and you ten seconds ago is palpable; those back-to-back fireballs drained the hell out of... uh

you know what? Fuck it, it's mana.

You're calling it mana.

You do not have a lot of those fireballs left in you.

They cost a hefty sum of mana.

You get out of bed--again--and pick up your polearm.

Cici (to your surprise) picks up the toolbox with her three feet, carrying it into the air with what looks like little difficulty.

"Are you as strong here as you are in the real world...?"

"Hard to tell!," Cici replies, following you out of the room and into the hall. "My body's so different, everything feels new and weird! Why am I an egg?"

You stop short of the candle room. "I'm... not really sure," you admit. "I think it definitely means something. A lot of games with like... collectable monsters or whatever have, like... growth mechanics? Creatures evolve or transform into bigger, stronger, more complex looking versions of themselves as they level up."

Cici seems to perk up, though it's hard to read her... uh... expression. "So I might turn into a scary egg?"

"You might hatch," you reply, though the mental picture of either scenario is pretty funny.

You peek into the candle room.

Yup.

The candle stays lit. It doesn't reset.

That means it's a form of permanent progress--something you can change that won't reset when you wake up. The candle room, the heart room... and the do not reset tape. The heart room has proven to work like a spawn point. You feel very confident the candle rooms may be for fast travel, or some other similar navigation mechanic--something you'll unlock or discover or... activate when you find that triangle thing.

It just... makes sense.

It all makes so much sense.

"I better not be a chicken in here," Cici remarks. "That's gonna feel like your house is judging me. Or a pigeon."

You grin, though Cici can't see it. It almost isn't fair, like setting up an ambush.

You speak but one word.

"Boobie."

Despite being in an egg (or being an egg?), Cici spends several seconds proving she is still capable of making very human noises.