Dokutsu caught the first cake in the air like a frog catching a fly. The sinuous, forked tendril snapped around it with bracing speed before withdrawing into its gelatinous maw. It was impossible to differentiate the various particulate masses trapped within its bulk, but the Drissil was in there. The rest of the cakes followed in quick order, and all of the pieces were as adroitly devoured as the first.

"Hey," Sashimibandit said, "what if the psychological issue we give it is psychotic rage?"

"Then that'll make two of us," Silva lobbed the final piece and withdrew from the entrance to wait.

"How long till we know?" she asked Lawlimi.

He and I had discussed it. Despite Dokutsu's overwhelming body mass, it was still a heroic mob. The Drissil cakes were celestial ingredients, so they should be effective. The warning had been obscure, as it could have represented either long-term adverse effects with slow onset or quick, acute impairment. We were hoping for the latter. Given that the Dokutsu was essentially one large stomach, we shouldn't have long to wait before we knew.

It was thirty-two seconds of silence before slopping and gurgling noises drew all eyes to the vault. The worm was throwing up, and its insides were in chaos. The simplistic, membranous organs visible through its translucent skin were convulsing, distending, splitting, and excess biogenic mash was pouring from its round mouth to splash on the roaches, who feasted.

"Nice job," Silva said, patting Lawlimi's shoulder.

The pseudopod grips that kept Dokutsu attached to the ceiling gave way, and the entire behemoth stretched down to the floor in a graceless slow fall. The debris field was almost entirely crushed under its bulk, and Sashimibandit gave a fist pump of excitement. It continued to writhe for long minutes, then finally stilled.

"I'm kind of surprised that it worked," Silva said.

They gave it another minute, but the worm was truly dead. Perhaps the psychological issue the Drissil instigated was suicidal ideation. The remaining roaches had scurried to escape the titanic collapse, only to return now to sip on its near liquid insides. A quick scan of the room revealed other cave worms of the harmless variety, but no other life. Most of the stasis pods were empty or destroyed, so the party hustled over to the frozen cylinder on the far side of the room.

There wasn't much to see. Mechanical equipment sealed the cylinder, but it was all frosted into uselessness. The cold itself was generated by a spirit bound in an artificer's triangle within the machine. Sashimibandit found a place to sit down while the others looked for a way to release the Herald's Kiss.

"I thought we'd be looking for a flower or something," Lawlimi said. "This is weird."

"Weirder than what we did a few minutes ago?" Silva was tapping the machine with the pommel of a dagger, looking for weak points and hollows.

"Oftentimes, ‘tis strangeness which reveals our sense, and sense the strangeness." Damwise sounded like he was reciting Shakespeare, but he wasn't. That was one of my lines, or rather, a line from the cannon of Hollen the Bard. He searched the area for any loose or forgotten tools that might have helped them crack the pod. Nothing presented itself.

"We killed it," Lawlimi said, "we can go back and get our boons from the Elders."

"That power sword could mince this thing," Silva got a greedy look. "You're full of good ideas, aren't you Law?"

A rueful smile had just begun to form on Lawlimi’s face when Dokutsu's corpse convulsed, prompting them all to turn and look. It still registered as dead to my senses, but there was some activity around its thick midsection, a hardened opaqueness that hadn't been present before. They all held their breath, and the spasm did not reoccur.

"Or we could break into it now," Sashimibandit said. He got out his sword, toddled over to the pod, and started banging away. Silva equipped her flamberge and expended enough mana to heat its edge to a radiant orange, then she followed suit.

"Do I have anything to help?" Lawlimi asked me.

"We fed it all to the worm."

Damwise couldn't find himself a place to safely assault the machine, so he hot-footed around, continuing his search for useful artifacts. He didn't have the skillset to make use of any of the mechano parts, however, and the rest appeared to be junk. Dents marked where the Bokken landed, though Sashimibandit was soon panting with the effort of besieging so stalwart an opponent. Silva fared better, cutting steaming chips from the iced-over cylinder that held the Kiss.

Dokutsu's remains jerked again as if the shapeless whole was attempting to reject the one point of solidity in its body, an ivory sphere. The spasms continued at regular, shortening intervals while they battered and chopped the pod. A large section of the containment cylinder calved off, releasing a heavy flow of slush that held the Herald's Kiss. Silva snatched the fleshy walnut before it had a chance to drop to the floor, gasping as the cold of the slush seared her skin.

>>

(Silva takes 62 Cold Damage)

>>

"Let's get out of here," she said, putting the quest item into her inventory.

They jogged toward the exit, around the island of translucent membranes and quivering organs that comprised the dead cave worm. The cyst in its abdomen was crowning, now as opaque as a pearl, splitting the membranes to release a surprisingly fresh, mulchy smell from its innards. The roaches paused in their feasting and twitched their antenna, unsure if this was a threat. Sashimibandit was last out. He glanced at the cyst and saw the imprint of a hand form in its soft shell as if a person was trapped inside and trying to get out.

They found the cutthroat triplets waiting by the stairwell.

"Go go go!" Silva urged them, and the ratfolk fell into line with the others.

"You have it?"

"Yeah, but something else is waking up in there and I don't want to meet it."

Their trip through the warrens was rushed, and they frightened a few unsuspecting nezumi who weren't quick enough to make way. When they came to the spiral that led back up into the monastery of the Elders, the entire party had attained Fatigue 2, and Sashimibandit was close to crossing over into 3.

The cutthroats insisted on a modicum of decorum entering the monastery, raising their hoods, and slowing the procession to a respectful walk. Hundreds of onlookers watched them rise from tier to tier until they were standing beneath the Elders council.

Ink Eyes stood to better peer down at them. "Back so soon? Do you admit your failure?"

Silva raised the Herald's Kiss for all to see. They had their torches, so the eyes of the Therians glittered blackly in the lambent mana glow, but the Kiss did not glitter. It was pink and raw looking, wrinkled like a walnut, and about that size. Silva thought she felt it move against her thumb, but it was unchanged. A part of me rebelled at the sight of this thing, I could not say why. Its data tags were innocuous, but there were questions there, unfinished bits of code like the junk DNA that resides in the chromosomes of all living beings. Everything in this hidden zone was slightly wrong to me, used as I was to being everywhere and understanding everything in the world. I liked questions, and curiosity is very nearly my only emotion, but for once a novel thing made me uncomfortable.

"You took it?" Ink Eyes didn't bother to hide his surprise. "And what of Dokutsu? You moved like shadows beneath his sight?"

"He's dead," Silva said, lowering the Kiss.

"Is this true?" He addressed the cutthroats.

"We heard it fall, master, and looked within the vault. The beast was still."

At this, Ink Eye’s amazement was plain despite his inhuman features, his jaws comically parted and his trailing eyebrows askew. "You must tell me, how is it possible you four were able to do this?"

"Poison," Silva didn't elaborate. "When it died, there was an egg. But we left before it could hatch."

Ink Eyes waved his hand dismissively. "Dokutsu was prolific, he spawned lesser worms after every meal. We can dispose of those ourselves now that the father is gone."

>>

[Quest Completed — Slay Dokutsu]

The beast is dead, and the Nezumi are ready to fete their heroes. You defeated Dokutsu with cunning rather than brute force, something the ratfolk respect and admire. Choose your boon!

(Lawlimi gains 0 experience)

(Silva gains 0 experience)

(Sashimibandit gain 0 experience)

(Damwise Ramgy gains 0 experience)

>>

"What the hell?" Sashimibandit looked through his menus for any updates he might have missed. "Are we not getting XP anymore?"

"I want that sword," Silva pointed at the Damascus cloud blade on the weapons rack below them.

"It is yours," Ink Eyes was magnanimous.

Silva "woo"-ed and fast-marched to claim her prize. Sashimibandit continued to complain until Damwise put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention and slowly shook his head.

"I have a question," Lawlimi said, and the black, glittering eyes of the elder rat turned upon him. "Why are there so many people in the pit where you found us?"

There were hisses in the Elder's circle, barely audible under the general good cheer of the crowd. "We are a fruitful people, but our world is limited, and dangerous, as you have seen. Not all are fit to survive."

"So, you put them in a pit?"

"Most will be released when they are ready and able to take their proper place in our society. Some cannot be trusted. They would work against the interests of our society.”

Lawlimi drew himself up, firming his stance and lowering his torch so that the light came up from beneath his face and drew shadows on his brow. "I want you to let them go."

"What?"

"Those prisoners, what you're doing to them is wrong."

A hush spread from the elder's circle and into the stands. That was the sort of talk that got someone put in the pit.

"Because you have done service for us," Ink Eyes began, "I will ignore your slight. I am still willing to grant you the boon you originally sought. You are in need of a hand, are you not?"

Lawlimi looked at his stump, he had a stubborn look on his face. "There was a kid among the prisoners. He had two tails. Do you know him?"

Ink Eyes regarded him for a long moment. "I know the child."

"Let him go, and I will take responsibility for him. That is my boon."

Again, the Elder had to quiet the objections of his council. "Very well. You will be escorted to the pit, and the child will be freed. He will be your burden and go with you when you leave this place. That is my judgment on you both."

The cutthroats crowded Lawlimi, who followed them down the ramp and out of the monastery. Silva was already taking practice swings with her new weapon, too pleased to notice anything else going on.

>>

Power Sword

Celestial Level 1

Availability : Mythic Rare

Condition : Flawless

Damage : 120%

>>

The power sword is the premier weapon of the Star Men, an elite group of monastic warriors that rule the spaces between worlds. Forged from Titan steel, it is virtually unbreakable, and when charged with mana its destructive capabilities dramatically increase. You must be of large size or have Massive Weapon Proficiency to wield the Power Sword without penalty.

The designer of this dungeon must have been disappointed when his pet project hadn't gotten approval. But as so much of this zone was not covered by the Mythopoeia cannon, what had they expected to happen? There was no such thing as Star Men or Titan Steel.

Damwise was in the middle of asking his boon. "Honored Elder, what I desire is to learn more of your people and your ways, and how you have lived here all this time. Please allow me the gift of hearing your stories, and reading your histories, any written record you may have."

This flattery was enough to smooth over Lawlimi's ruffling, and Damwise was invited to sit with the Elders and discuss how to further his learning. in-game terms, he would receive a bonus rank in lore to spend whenever he next advanced in level. He still couldn't increase his rank any higher than the normal maximum, but it would free up a skill rank for him to spend elsewhere. He would also learn a nezumi themed ability to add to his Hero's Hymns.

"I just want to get out of here," Sashimibandit said. "Can't you help with that?"

"Awakening the pilot is the only way for you to return to your world," Ink Eyes said. "But there is still something we can do for you. The armor you wear is clunky and ineffective. It doesn't suit your affinities. Allow us to provide you with an alternative."

Sashimibandit agreed noncommittally, still focused on his dashed hopes of an early escape. A pair of ratfolk scurried off and quickly returned with an odd-looking hauberk.

>>

Mycolith Scale Shirt

Celestial Level 1

Availability : Mythic Rare

Condition : Excellent

Coverage : 40%

Toughness : 150%

Woven from the dried fibers and scales of a celestial fungus, this hauberk provides a unique kind of protection. It is tough enough to mitigate slashing damage, dense enough to resist piercing, and padded to absorb bludgeoning blows like softer armors. With an application of the wearer's mana, the mycolith shirt will repair itself from all but the most severe impairments.

>>

"Holy shit." Sashimibandit unequipped his breastplate and the shield straps over his shoulders, dropping them on the floor, his exhaustion and their plight temporarily forgotten. He slid the hauberk over his head and hopped with excitement.

"Holy shit! Holy shit! HOLY. SHIT."

His reaction was not out of line. For a low heroic player to be rewarded with a celestial item was unheard of. Higher-level players often helped lower-level friends power through the Mortal sphere, but the game made a point of giving level-appropriate quest rewards for these tagalongs. The power gap between levels and tiers was too broad to do otherwise. Silva's reward was right on the edge of allowability, she was already coming to the end of her Heroic arc, and the item was a premade part of the setting, not a generated reward. She had gotten lucky in a dungeon that wasn't well balanced. But this shirt, another Celestial reward of another unique material for a much weaker player was essentially cheating, which would have been a concern, if not for the potential brain death situation they were dealing with already.

High stakes, high rewards. They had generated that item specifically for Sashimibandit. Was Orobos running all these programs, or was there still another ADI hidden under all this storyboarding, refusing to talk to me? I had been sending off regular pings, all with as much success as the first. It felt like this zone was all performers and no ringleader?

Speaking of pings, Dokutsu's egg was finally coming apart. Silver blue hands pierced the membrane of the cyst, pulling it open like the curtain before a show. A face came next, loosely human, with double-sized, utterly purple eyes, the barest sliver of white visible on each edge. Her mouth was a perfect bow, opened in childish astonishment as she surveyed the world for the first time. Her body came next, lithe, supple, and possessed of the qualities I am given to understand humans enjoy in a female of the species, though of course, she was not human. Her delicate parts were concealed by a feathering of moth-like scales that patterned the rest of her smooth skin like freckles. Her hair was a mass of fronds wet with paralytic agent.

>>

Dokutsu, Hunger out of Space — Cave Worm

Celestial Level 1 (99,999/99,999)

Nadir — Water — Brown

>>

Rather than die from the meal, it had evolved.

Fascinating.