Don didn't know how long he shivered in his rotting tree. He was fixated by the red splatters painting the space just outside. They radiated out from a small crater which now hosted a grim puddle. For a time, blood dripped rhythmically from some of the lower branches, eventually slowing to a stop. A thick coppery scent dominated the air and had attracted swarms of buzzing insects gorging themselves on the easy meal. There was so much more blood than Don would have ever expected. He knew it would be best to put the grisly scene behind himself before the smell attracted something more dangerous but he couldn't seem to get his legs to cooperate.

He closed his eyes and tried to meditate but the smell made it impossible. Worse still, every time he inhaled, his stomach rumbled in response to the smell. The jungle critters were back to making their usual racket which Don took as a good sign.

Should I stay or should I go? The apes are definitely out there. Was the one who came here following my scent? That's right, I have the stink bomb! Don had completely forgotten about his one defense against the giant monsters. He berated himself for the oversight. Wait a minute, if they were following me by smell, isn't all this blood a blessing? Those people couldn't see me even when they passed right outside my hiding place and now this blood should mask my smell too.

Don resolved to bear the smell but if things kept going the way they were, Don's talkative stomach would make his hiding useless. He finally opened up his inventory and ate his fill. His stomach was no more settled than before and the food threatened to come back up a few times but at least the blood wasn't making him drool anymore. Don needed a distraction if he was going to wait for Kat to return. He opened up various screens looking for one until something caught his eye.

Name: Donovan Shepard

Race: Demon

Title: -

Pet: Fairy (Soul Bound)

Respawn in: 7:25:49

Level: 0 (6/100 EXP)

STR: 18 CON: 19 INT: 16 DEX: 16 AGI: 17 END: 18 WIS: 14 --> 16

What does respawn mean? Don wondered, suddenly hopeful that Cel was still out there somewhere. As he watched the seconds on the timer tick down, something felt off. The clock was slow. Don checked his time sense for the first time in a while and that felt slow too. It was like a whole second and a half passed between each second marked by the timers. Don raised a hand to scratch at his head and that felt a bit slower than normal too. He focused on the only other thing that had changed.

WIS: The Wisdom Attribute governs mental alacrity.

It affects MP regeneration (WIS/hour), spell-control, and perception among other mental qualities.

Mental alacrity, perception... Is this attribute changing the way I perceive time? Why didn't I notice this before?

Don thought back to the way the search party seemed to move toward him in slow motion, and the way the ape's fists paused for a moment before pulping Gregory.

Maybe I did... It's possible that I'm not as slow as I think I am, I've just been perceiving time faster than normal...

Don pondered on this for a while. It meant that he would have longer to wait before Kat returned, sort of. It also meant that he would have more time to react in dangerous situations. It seemed meditation had increased his wisdom rather quickly compared to all the mental exercises Cel had put him through. He couldn't see why. Meditation was relaxing and not at all taxing. Every other attribute had only increased after intense effort. He wasn't about to complain though. Any increase in his attributes was a good thing as far as he was concerned.

The brutal display reinforced the need to be capable. It also showed what would happen if he continued to just run away from his problems. He would eventually get caught with disastrous results. Don thought about the look on Gregory's face just before his end. Though the man was hunting him, Don only had pity for the unfortunate spearman. Someone was forcing him to be out here against his will. He would rather leave Don alone but he had gotten brutally murdered while under threat of violence.

Then he remembered what Sonja had said. Was it really his fault they were here?

How could that be the case? They called me a heretic so I clearly shouldn't have the authority necessary to relocate a bunch of people. I wish I could at least remember the crime I've been accused of.

Don opened up his "who am I" quest information again

Who Am I?

Objectives: ????

Progress: ????

It was just as unhelpful as before. Unless there were other Shepards running around in this jungle, these people obviously knew something about him. Don might have considered searching them out to ask if they didn't casually mention brutal punishment. Greg seemed to think it couldn't be worse than this jungle but Don's amnesia told a different story. If all he had gone through since waking up in the crypt hadn't triggered another amnesia-related quest, just what had the centurions put him through? What had he done to deserve it?

Don's distraction backfired as a pang of brand new guilt settled in his chest. How much suffering were these people going through? Sonja called Greg a centurion which implied that there were at least 100 of them. A parade of faceless centurions screaming just before getting pounded into the ground flitted through Don's mind. He once again resorted to pain to drive the visions away. He wrapped his arms tight around himself, digging his claws into his back and tearing the skin.

Don had nothing else to distract himself with. He had no mortar, pestle or ingredients to practice alchemy. He was confined to this tree and couldn't work himself ragged in an attempt to improve his strength or agility. He resolved to try and meditate again.

It took a frustratingly long time but he eventually became accustomed to the smell of blood and the screaming spearmen quieted enough for Don to enter that peaceful state once again. It wasn't until something that didn't belong in a jungle at all caught his attention that Don fell out of his trance again.

The sweet tinkling of a harp filled Don's ears. A spark leapt to life in front of him and hovered in place. Another joined it, then another. Soon a shower of golden sparks coalesced into a familiar form. Cel glowed brightly in the evening gloom before floating gently to the ground. Don's jaw dropped with her.

When she touched down, she gave a shiver and looked up at the gobsmacked demon.

"That was unpleasant. Do me a favor and don't do that again okay?"

You're alive? Don thought without meaning to.

"I am now, it sure is weird being switched off like that." Cel snapped her fingers "Bam, lights out."

But, you drowned, didn't you?

Cel shivered again

"Don't remind me."

Don had to get a handle on this situation but his words failed him.

But, how, what, you, You were dead!

"I just asked you not to remind me." Cel huffed, crossing her arms. She flew up to eye-level and Don winced but apparently, Cel had mastered flying without shedding too much light. She inspected their surroundings. "I see you still aren't welcome in the ColoColo refuge. Care to fill me in on what you've been up to while I was... on vacation?"

Don lifted his jaw up off of the ground. A lump formed in his throat and pressure built up behind his eyes. He wasn't alone. Cel was still with him. Tears spilled down his face.

"Hey," Cel started, concern evident in their mental link "What happened?"

Don couldn't put it into words so he just let his emotions flow across the open channel as he gestured outside.

"Woah," Cel commented as she saw the dried blood coating every surface for several meters. "rough night I take it?"

Don nodded. He haltingly started explaining everything that had happened after getting thrown out of the refuge. The words came more and more easily until they were spilling out of him with barely any control. That lasted until Don started explaining his new worries about condemning at least a hundred people to a hellish existence.

Anger flashed across their connection, interrupting Don.

"Do not feel sorry for them." She insisted "It's not your fault that they are here and it's absolutely not your fault that they are searching for you. That's all thanks to your god and his Arbiter."

Don reeled at the accusation

But that-

"What else controls everything? What else can be to blame for all the suffering and waste and..." Cel bit back her tirade with a visible effort. Don could feel that she was being genuine because of their soul bond. Her anger had transformed into seething waves of pure loathing.

"They are not here because of you, both you and the rest of the citizens from your colony are here because of that monstrosity you worship."

Don couldn't let blasphemy on that level slide, he was getting angry now too.

Gregory died because he was out searching for me. If we had never run away he would still be alive!

Cel waved off the man's death like it was meaningless.

"He'll respawn soon enough."

The word caught Don's attention. There was something he had to know.

Respawn? What does that mean anyway?

Cel slapped her forehead.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting that you are new to this stuff. I should have explained this earlier. In short, respawning means coming back to life."

Don wouldn't have believed her if he hadn't just witnessed Cel's respawn. Dead things stayed dead. That was why it was so important to serve the collective for the required 80 years before you could join your immortal ancestors in Arcadia.

Does everything respawn here? Don asked, a spark of hope flaring in his chest.

"No, just player characters and some special cases like me."

The spark was snuffed out. The rabbits he had eaten were well and truly dead. Then something else occurred to Don.

Can I respawn? he asked. Cel hesitated before answering

"You can, but the problem is your respawn location. I respawn wherever you are, but for now at least, you will respawn where you first entered this world. That means right in the middle of a camp of angry fanatics who-" Cel cut herself off again.

"I nearly said too much. I can't give you too many hints about what happened there. Just know that you don't want to go back."

She let that sink in. Don needed a minute to process the incredible information. He was a pseudo-immortal now, but so were the people searching for him. That meant that they were going to be locked in conflict forever. In the end, don came to the conclusion that nothing significant had changed. It was just that dying wouldn't be an end. It would just be the starting signal for more suffering. If he truly couldn't stay dead, he might be able to escape again but he doubted the people would be so lackadaisical in their security a second time.

It was also clear that while Don had been struggling to feed himself, these people had been honing their combat skills. The way the spears blurred with speed during the [flurry] attack was proof of that. Howard had even leveled up right before Don's eyes while he still had only a measly 6 exp to his name.

Don was more willing to believe Cel after such a miraculous display but it was hard.

You said this was a game. This is supposed to be fun? Don glanced at the browning blood staining the thorns in front of him.

"It's supposed to be, part of the fun is in challenging yourself to overcome great obstacles. You didn't exactly have a standard start though and like I said, this is a test world. Some things are bound to be different from the optimized version. I've noticed that the monsters are a lot more sophisticated than normal." Cel paused, biting her lip while considering something.

"I'm actually pretty worried about that. I told you I'm looking for my children... That's more of an analogy than straight truth. I thought if they existed at all, it would only install them in human NPC's but..." Cel trailed off, then shook her head. "you have enough to worry about now without me piling more issues onto you. Anyways, I need to observe the ColoColo a bit more closely before I can be sure."

Kat obligingly chose that moment to drop from the branches and into the reddish-brown stain. Don noticed how he seemed to fall more slowly than he should have, like there was extra wind resistance acting on him. His legs still bent deeply when he landed. Don's heightened perception had no effect on the momentum the scout built up during his fall.

"Wow, I like what you've done with the place," he commented, "Are you ready to rub Gaz's nose in his mistake?"