He hadn’t been underwater for too long, he reckoned, at least not more than six months. He smirked to himself at the idea of six months in an underwater temple not being too long, but quickly lost the humor. He needed to keep his mind on his task, anyway.

Six. Months. With. No. Sunlight.

He scooped the dehydrated seaweed out of the sea-bleached dog food bag and into the boiler. The strong fishy odor was somehow distinct from the smell of the actual fish he had in a half-barrel, already gutted and de-boned. The remains…

The remains had gone into the Hole.

He didn’t think about that, though, or at least, he tried. He grabbed the half-barrel and tipped it into the boiler, scraping the bottom of the wood with his spatula to get every bit out. When he had emptied the barrel, he set it down by the table and turned back to the boiler, every motion deliberate, planned. Mindfulness was, ironically, kept in mind with every step of his labor.

He couldn’t risk letting his Skill break.

And He Walked Among Them Until His Works Were Done [Ascendant]

It only worked as long as he kept working. If he stopped to take breaks, to think, or just to look around too much, the Hole started expanding. He was sure that his friends had been killed or worse, at this point, and…

He needed the Hole to stay the size it was.

He turned the boiler on, the ancient pipes sparking into fire as it escaped the tiny outlets. There was no sparker on the boiler, just a series of tiny runes on the iron plates on the underside, but he had never had a chance to inspect them. He hadn’t even been given that chance on his first day here, before they realized the mistake they had made and threw him and his group down into the deepest section of their temple-fortress, forcing them to work.

He hadn’t heard their voices in days, and they hadn’t responded to any of his desperate calls.

No one had.

No people, anyway. The Hole grew slightly, expanding from the corner of the room with every moment of inattention or desperation that resulted in him calling to his friends. He was used to hard work. His [class] was built around it!

But working to prepare the meals for a group of cultists who somehow managed to find some super-rare artifact and are using it to abduct people they think are connected to their fish-god… Well, it was just not the kind of work he had thought he would be doing when the Ysari System had offered him the [God Class] [Dagan]. It had even changed his name, which turned out to be his downfall to the cultists.

Dagan stirred the sludge, breaking the seaweed and the fish into chunks, and then into smaller bits, grimacing at the paste that slowly formed. He had already oiled and prepared the molds, which were several different designs of cupcake pans. When the paste reached a boiling point, he clicked the boiler off and closed the front latch. He went to the side of the boiler to prepare it to pour. His self-imposed dedication to his task is what saved his life.

Part of the ceiling and the wall on the other side of the boiler abruptly exploded, spraying stone chips around the room. The noise was deafening, and Dagan felt his vision blurring from the concussion of the blast. He belatedly realized that several stone chips had cut his back and face, but he didn’t think he was harmed, thanks to the sheer bulk of the boiler machine.

A person in blue, insectile armor was stepping through the smoke. The armor was a vivid blue, the colors seeming to shift as some kind of energy (Mana, Dagan mentally corrected himself) coursed through the recesses of the armor, seeming to end by shimmering through wicked-looking arm-blades like electricity going up a Jacob’s Ladder device. It was obviously a man, though the long, ragged dark hair looked like the hair of someone who had been at sea for a few months too long.

He was holding the hand of a small woman, who let go as soon as she was through. She partially turned her head to the insect-person, saying something. Dagan couldn’t hear her, or anything, for that matter, but he recognized the smug look on her face. It was the exact same look his own sister had given him in his childhood when she had been proven to be the correct one after a disagreement.

That was oddly reassuring. Dagan took a step out from behind the boiler, his hand coming up in a wave. The woman looked at him and shouted something. The bug-thing hit him in the chest, seeming to come out of nowhere. Dagan was startled when his back hit the wall, and doubly so when the webs seemed to snap into place like they were precisely placed by a high-powered machine. His legs dangled off the ground, limply. He was still mentally working through what had happened to him.

That was… that was a kid. A kid punched me into the wall and did this.

The bug-kid was still in front of him, and he looked surprised, as well. Dagan wasn’t sure why, and he wasn’t going to give the kid any reasons to be jumpy.

But…

Dagan pointedly made eye contact with the kid. The kid narrowed his eyes, but didn’t break it. Dagan then lowered his gaze to the Hole, twisting it as much as he could with the webs holding him in place.

Thankfully, the kid got the hint and followed his gaze. He looked back to the woman and said something. The woman shook her head, responding. She seemed to brighten up at the end, turning to look at the boiler. The boy nodded, saying something to her.

Dagan was getting tired of not being able to hear. What the hell had they done to get in here? A bomb?

The boy reached over to the boiler and touched the main vessel directly, seeming not to mind the heat. To Dagan’s surprise, the boiler vessel began to glow a vivid blue color, seeming to leak from the cracks and crevices of the old machine. The kid started to brace himself to move the machine, and Dagan reached to help him, forgetting that he was trapped.

He was surprised again when the machine moved easily. As it moved, the woman slapped something onto the back of the vessel. It looked like a small hunk of clay with a few wires and some kind of computer part with a tiny LED screen that looked like it had been ripped from a watch. Dagan had no idea how it worked, but he knew a bomb when he saw one.

The kid pushed the boiler into the rapidly-expanding Hole, reaching over and gently, but firmly pulling Dagan off of the wall. The kid pulled Dagan over to the door, yanking it open. He resisted at first, fearing what the punishment would be for daring to leave the room, but the boy hurled him into the hallway.

Dagan winced, expecting an impact, but was instead momentarily confused as he found himself suspended in yet more webs. They seemed to fill the hallway, almost like they had grown from the nooks and crevices in the stone walls of the temple. Dagan hung limply. He was done resisting.

He heard the door close behind him, and then a massive BOOM, carrying with it a slight tremor. Dagan took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

He felt a hand on his outer leg. It pressed on him for a moment, and then gave him two quick pats. Without further warning, the webs holding him in place dropped. The hand moved to gently catch him on the stomach, lowering him to his feet. He turned, slowly, and spoke to the bug-boy.

“Thank you.”

The bug-boy nodded, which was a good sign. He reached behind him and into the glowing backpack he wore, pulling out a small glass bottle. That was fast. It must have been on top. Is he planning on poisoning me? I guess I can’t stop him from killing me either way, so… And if it’s not poison, a show of trust might go a long way.

Dagan reached out and took the bottle that the bug-boy was offering him, slipping the odd metal cork out and downing the contents of the bottle in one motion.

He shuddered as the startlingly cold liquid washed down his throat. His ears popped, and abruptly he could hear the steady, quiet-yet-roaring movements of the ocean above him. The aches and pains he had been ignoring on his hands from where he had accidentally brushed against the boiler or had cut himself while chopping fish had vanished, as well. Dagan looked down at his hands in wonder and then back up at the bug-boy and woman.

“What did you give me? Who are you people?”

The bug-boy smiled at him, looking relieved for some reason Dagan couldn’t identify. It wasn’t like he was the threatened party here!

“That was a healing potion, a minor one. My name is Robin. This is May. We are here to clear the Temple of Dagon. Who are you?”

“A pleasure, Robin and May, truly. My name is…”

Dagan froze. The smile Robin was wearing slowly slipped away.

“Well, the thing is, my name is… It’s very similar… to a name that is very important to the cult. They mistook me for the correct… name, and here I am.”

“What’s your name, old man?”, the young woman suddenly cut in. Where had that machete come from?

“Dagan! That’s D-A-G-A, NOT O, N! Day-gan, not day-gone!”, Dagan said all at once. When he saw that bug-boy… Robin and May were listening, he slowed down. “My class changed my name. I am completely unrelated to the thing they’re trying to find,” he said, waving generally at the ceiling, “and I have no ill intent towards anyone.”

“I just… I just want to get out of here.”

The boy moved his head back a fraction, seeming to have been surprised by something. His eyes flitted back and forth for a moment, almost like he was reading. He blinked, and then made eye contact with May, seeming to communicate something with the stare. He turned to Dagan and smiled again.

“I believe you. I just got a quest to get you out of here.”

Dagan jumped forward, finding himself possessed of energy he did not know he had the depths to produce. “Can we just go through the hole you opened?!”

The woman shook her head. “No. We got a notification when we entered that we would not be able to leave by the same means.”

She smirked, the smug look of an older sister on her face again. “Got some extras for coming in that way, too.” Robin rolled his eyes and turned to Dagan.

“So, Dagan. Do you want to come with us, or just follow our lead on the way out?”

Dagan nodded. "I think I would like to work with you. My class abilities are primarily focused around teamwork, support, and non-combat utility. I do not think I would be well suited to escape on my own, but together... Together, I think I may be an asset to you."

Robin and May both looked interested in that. May took her attention away from her seemingly continual checks and re-checks of her equipment, putting her hands on her hips. "What is your class?"

Dagan smiled widely. This was his favorite part.

"[God]."