Sally led Sam to the central chamber, the original room from which the entire dungeon had been born. Cora had called it her ‘mind chamber’, the place where her full self had gestated, hidden in the essence of the world, waiting for the right time to come forth again and renew her lost war against reality itself.

Except she had woken up early, and the waking had split her into three distinct parts. Cora, the defensive portion. Sally, the offensive. And the final third sister, whom Sam had yet to meet.

The chamber was mostly deserted now, the townsfolk having either left for town again or taken shelter deeper in the dungeon in the spare rooms Sam had offered. A couple goblin guards stood at the tunnel entrances on each of the compass points save north, where Rakun’s alcove was. And a pair of kobold children were playing some kind of game with pegs and a wooden game board near the alcove. Other than that, it was empty.

“I’m working more by intuition than straight-up knowledge here,” Sally said as they emerged from the tunnels. “But something tells me that this is the best place to start the ritual. It’s important to both of us. And it’s gotta be on a nexus point, a place where essence naturally wells up into the world, because this is where we were sleeping.”

Sam nodded as if he knew what she was talking about—which he did, in part. It made sense from an essence standpoint at least. “Alright, so how does this work?”

“Well first you gotta get naked.”

Sam turned slowly, lowering his eyebrows and scowling at the core. “You know I can tell when you’re screwing with me, right?”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s so much fun I just can’t help myself. C’mon butter-boy, where’s your sense of humor?”

“Sally, in the next couple hours I’m going to be the guardian for two ancient weapons of war, I’m going to be starting a revolution against a sitting monarch, and I’m going to let a dragon eat me. Can you see where my sense of humor may not be functioning at full capacity right now?”

“Fair point.” The floating orb conceded. She floated up to the dais and levitated up onto it, moving to the center. “Okay, so first we’re gonna need a knife. No, I’m not screwing around, you’re gonna need to bleed a little onto my gem. Don’t ask me why, I think it’s some kind of recognition program. Marks you as the guardian, gives you access to the powers, stuff like that.”

“Great.” Sam sighed. “Alright, so a knife and blood. Then what?”

“Then you’re just gonna put your hand with the blood on it onto my gemstone. And yes, I am exactly as excited about that prospect as you are. You haven’t even bought me dinner.”

“And after that?”

“If everything works like it should, you’ll be taken to the White Room again to get your new powers and probably a new subclass or two. Might even get a couple new items out of it.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Sam said slowly. “You sure that’s it?”

“Nope” Sally sounded almost cheerful. “I haven’t a fucking clue what could happen. We’re in uncharted territory, Bubba. This is the process used to assign a new guardian to a core when we lose one or they give up and run like a rat. Should work just fine, but it’s designed to work on us when we were one person. It should work the same here, but…” She bobbled up and down in that peculiar shrugging motion that was common to her and to Cora back when she was a core. “Probably will work, might blow up in our faces. You got any other choice?”

“Nope,” Sam said with a wry smirk. “So we’re gonna try something that might destroy us both, or give us another tool that may or may not be enough to keep us alive for a few more days. Sounds like a Tuesday to me.”

“Hey, I make the cynical jokes around here.”

“Not so far, you haven’t.” Sam grinned and rapped her fondly on the top of her sphere. “Unless… Wait, were those supposed to be jokes? I just figured you were dyspeptic.”

Sally turned, and god help him, somehow managed to give him a look without any facial features whatsoever.

“That? That right there? That’s why I make the jokes. Stop before you pull something.”

“Alright, alright,” Sam chuckled. “Let’s get this done then. You sure it’ll take a couple hours?”

“Did I not just get done telling you? You. Me. Off the map. Ask me if there’ll be ice cream and monkeys. You’ll get the same answer, but at least I’ll get a chuckle out of the visual.”

“Right. Sorry.” Sam sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, let’s get it done.”

Sam(Dungeon Man): Alright folks, I’m starting the ritual with Sally in the center chamber. Chances are I’ll be out of contact for a while, so try not to burn the place down while I’m out, okay?

Skee(BestGobbo): I got ten gold says he’s out for an hour. Anyone want a little over-under action?

Annie(BossLady): Good luck son. If you can, holler to let us know you’re alright.

He bent down and retrieved his boot knife and slid the blade lightly across his palm, drawing a thin line of blood. Others drifted in from the tunnels as he stepped up to the podium. Pearl flitted in with her recording device, hovering above Sam and the core.

“Alrighty then,” Sam rolled his shoulders like he was getting ready for a fight. “Ready?”

“Waiting on you, butter-boy.”

Sam snorted, then knelt down and brought his now-bloody palm towards Sally’s gem. For a second, just before he touched, he thought he saw a spark somewhere in the light shining from her.

Then his hand touched, and the blood tingled on his palm.

He only started screaming when the blood caught fire.

* * *

Pain.

Sam woke screaming. He jerked upright. His entire body was on fire, his nerves curling inside his flesh, twisting, ripping free of skin as the flame raced down them. He felt bones snap, felt fat melt, hair ignite, eyes burst…

He sucked in air, over and over again, hands flying to his body, patting, seeking the flame, the injury, the destruction, the—

He was okay.

He closed his eyes and fell backwards onto solid ground. He was okay. It was just another death. Or maybe some glitch in Sally’s programming. Maybe something had gone wrong.

Okay, clearly something had gone wrong. The question was, what.

Slowly he sat up again, still breathing hard. His clothing was soaked through with sweat, his hair plastered to his scalp. Phantom pains and aches flashed through his joints as he levered himself up to upright, and his neck howled a protest as he looked around.

He was not in the White Room. Instead of that featureless white expanse, it looked like he was in a softly-lit gray room. There was nothing there except a single door, also gray, set into the wall. The walls were not stone, not any that he had ever seen anyway, but they were gray like stone. Perfectly flat and featureless, ten feet high and maybe twenty feet across.

“Well,” he said, and his first words were a hoarse rasp. “This is different.”

Slowly, whole body screaming with the effort, he levered himself to his feet. Was this Sally’s version of creation? If it was, it was damned inconvenient. Why not just deliver him to Creation? Or the White Room? Was he supposed to go through the door?

Sam(Dungeon Man): Well, this still works at least. Anyone hear me?

Annie(BossLady): Sam! Oh thank the gods, what happened? You started screaming, and now you’re just laying there! Are you alright?

Sam(Dungeon Man): I think so. No idea what happened. Felt like I died. On fire. My body’s still there?

Jackson(BossMan): ‘Still there’, suggesting that you’re not here anymore. Where are you, son?

Sam(Dungeon Man): Not a clue. Featureless gray room, with a door in it. Sally, is this your version of Creation or something?

Sally(Don’tGiveMeAFuckingTitle): We’ve been over this… Oh you bastard pixie.

Pearl(Secrefairy): Heeheeheehee!

Sam(Dungeon Man): Can we focus please?

Sally(Don’tGiveMeAFuckingTitle): If it’s Creation you’re in, it should look exactly like it did when you went through with my sister. If it’s the White Room, it should look like that. I don’t have a clue what you’re looking at right now.

It’s another Anomaly.

The realization his him like one of Ma’s left hooks. He hadn’t even considered it before, but the minute the thought entered his head it made perfect sense. Of course it was an Anomaly. The system wouldn’t be set up to handle a Guardian linking to two versions of Cora. She’d been whole every other time she’d ever woken up. Binding himself to her again, or more accurately to a piece of who she’d once been, must have torn a hole in the system and dumped him off here.

Okay, that’s an unexpected bonus. Maybe this’ll be another armory or something. Might even find something inside to help him against Quentin and whoever was sending him and the other armies against him. Quickly, he outlined his realization to the others.

Sam(Dungeon Man) There’s a door here too. I’m gonna open it. Maybe the armory’s on the other side.

Skee(BestGobbo): I got ten—

Annie(BossLady): Skee. Dear. Shut the hell up.

Skee(BestGobbo): … Yes’m.

Sam chuckled. It was amazing how having familiar voices in your head helped calm the nerves. He barely even felt the aches anymore as he started across the gray room to the gray door. It had an old-fashioned latch, like you might see on an old barn door, with a peg jutting through a slot that you lifted and turned to slide back the bolt on the other side.

He did so, and pushed it open on noiseless hinges.

There wasn’t a room on the other side. Just a flat gray expanse, like the White Room except… Well. Gray.

And also it wasn’t empty. In the middle distance, maybe a hundred yards away, Sam saw… Something. It had shape and mass to it, but he couldn’t make out detail. The grayness blurred its outline to the point where he could only make out a basic triangular shape, wide base sloping up to a narrow point up top.

Sam glanced around and down, making sure he still had his harness, and that Thumb Bane was still on his hip. He stutter-stopped a moment when he remembered that his body was still back in the dungeon.

A mind construction of some sort? A simulation? He frowned and brought his left hand up. The cut was still there, though scabbed over.

Damned good simulation, if that’s what it was.

Still, he was armed, he was armored, and a quick check of his status screen showed that his glasses still worked and that he still had access to his menus.

“Okay then,” he murmured, and stepped across the threshold into the gray space. He half-expected an alarm to sound, or for mobs to spawn in and attack him, or for… Well, for something more dramatic to happen than the sound of his boot striking the ground.

But nothing did. Nor did anything happen as he walked cautiously forward, drawing near to the shape in the distance.

And as he got closer, details started to resolve themselves. The triangular base was actually legs, drawn up into the lotus position. The sloping sides were arms, with hands resting on knees. And the narrow top was a head, bowed low.

Even closer, and Sam saw the wrinkles, the scars, the age spots and pockmarks. It was a man, ancient beyond anything Sam had ever seen, withered almost to a skeleton.

And every inch of him, from the neck down, was covered with glowing mana sigils. And he sat in the middle of a ritual circle like Rakun had used back in the town hall, only—

Sam turned away hurriedly from looking at it. Only, it was so complex that Sam could feel madness knocking on his awareness as he tried to make sense of it.

He turned back slowly. The figure gave no indication that he knew Sam was there, or any indication of life at all, save for the slow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. Sam glanced around. No other landmarks presented themselves. He turned back to the figure. Still nothing.

Well, what the hell.

“Um,” he said, inching forward, careful not to come close to that maddening circle. “Hello?”

The figure’s eyes snapped open wide and focused on Sam, and Sam recoiled as if struck.

Madness burned bright in those horrible red eyes.

“Well it’s about damned time,” the figure spoke in a high crackling voice. “I ordered that pizza almost two hours ago!”