Waves of nausea continuously plagued him even after the visions retreated below. The message he received was clear; anyone could be replaced if it was in the dungeon's best interest. Quintin fought against the queasiness and rose up inch by sluggish inch.

"Are we good now?" he said while working his stress-strained shoulders.

"Good? Never good. But know now, good," Hedon returned flatly.

The effort laced Quintin's voice with a strenuous bolster. "Well, you know what they say; good is good. So... since I seem to be stuck here, I may as well get the grand tour. See the sights, the sounds, and all that."

"They? You many voice too?" the goblin, Hedon, shrieked up at its floating entourage of disembodied heads, Slowly they flew or slunk off further into the darkness. "You follow, we show."

After a few tentative toe-taps, Quintin screwed-up his resolve to trail the goblin's silhouette. He spoke into the distance, "Erm, no voices. It's just a figure of speech- know what? forget it."

Over the course of the next hour, Hedon brought him around Sozzlerift—the dungeon it had become. The corruption met all objects, spread its taint to every surface. Whether inorganic, man-made, or living being mattered not; all callers were covered in much the same way.

"Perhaps comfort for some is a blanket wound up this tightly against them," Quintin muttered.

The onset of corruption, and the birth of this dungeon, went hand-in-hand as shapers of new lifeforms in their myriad, twisted-up appearances. This former great city was ruined once again, tarnished beyond recognition. The size of all the buildings and the largeness of the chasm itself hadn't changed. Except now, these surfaces had a layer of tar-colored grime which made them difficult to reconcile with its previous look.

Quintin broke the silence by clearing his throat. "So, Hedon, you were the leader of the Goblins down here?"

"No. Raid Leader." Quintin swore he felt the goblin sneering from the tone, "I Shaman, Headbearer! Deserve respect! But- Goblin War King lie, Goblin master force out!"

A cold shiver ran the length of Quintin's back. Hedon had been so strong, yet even he wasn't in the upper echelon of Goblin society.

"There's even someone above the King? This Goblin Master, who is this person?"

Hedon stood in place, looking off into the far distance. "Not someone. Something. Some think Dragon. Others, big Blob-Blob. Only Goblin War King know."

A flash of recognition went through Quintin's face. To the time previous to his passing out, as he stared up through the hole in the Amphitheater. A powerful roar, and then, the pulsation from the [Starmoss] that took on the form of a rising blue Dragon.

"Could it have been real?" Quintin whispered.

Hedon turned. "You say?"

"Nothing." Quintin shook his head, "In any case, I seem to recall you were reading a Tome when I first saw you. Back then, when we fought at the Ruin Outskirts. Do you have it now?"

Hedon took some time before replying, "No... Mistress take me. Left behind."

He could tell this was a sore spot for the Shaman, so decided to press a little. "What's so special about the book? When I saw you, you seemed to be fully focused on it."

"It is... words of True Master." Hedon's voice grew in fanatical intensity, "Words from the Lord of the Dead, Milowix!"

At the end, an ear-piercing shriek and clamorous goblin laughter spilled out from the darkness ahead. The floating heads also joined in with Hedon's maniacal cackle from different, unseen places. And just as suddenly, it ended.

"He lives," Hedon spoke placidly, "Says so in book."

Quintin, for his part, was more than a little spooked. "I-I have no idea what that's supposed to mean-"

"You will."

Any other words he was thinking of saying became stifled in his throat as they came up to a large tunnel entrance. The strangest thing being a noticeable lack of corruption from one side to the other. There was also a membranous barrier akin to something he saw Vissitri cast along the length of empty space, from the top to the bottom, at the entrance to the tunnel.

"Dungeonborn not exit. You try, you see," Hedon volunteered.

Up until now, Quintin thought this would be the most critical hardship to his escape. However now, if what Hedon said was true, he may never have had a chance, to begin with. Though this worry was only fleeting as he recalled the [Title] he had gained just prior.

[Titles]:

[Corebearer]

...

...

*A special [Dungeon Core] which has no tether area.

If this means what I think it means, then I should be able to leave this place and easily, he thought.

Quintin shrewdly schooled his face and spoke, "Well, I at least have to try and see for myself how hopelessly stuck I am."

Hedon seemed almost too excited for him to try. It was easy for Quintin to guess what the damaged little goblin hoped to see; if he failed the attempt he would be badly injured by the barrier—Vissitri's lessons were not so easily forgotten.

"Well, here goes nothing."

Quintin calmed himself just before the borderline. He took a quick peek back at Hedon to confirm its hideous smiling face some distance away. Nothing was creepier, and it helped to steady his nerves with the knowledge he would soon be far away from it. With his mind settled, he took a determined stride and leapt through the shimmering veil. The nightmare parted, he had landed on the other side, two feet on the vibrant dirt footpath.

"I-I did it. I really made it out!" as he let loose a fist pump, a scrunched-up smile took form.

Quintin's laughter was only outdone by Hedon's abundant fury. The corruption began to bubble up and press against the barrier. The masses of the tainted breed were back, and they were very upset. So much so, that the barrier quivered slightly at their insistence. He was no longer laughing, instead, he was running down the corridor.

All the same, Quintin yelled, "Best behave! I will return. And when I do, you all best be ready for some changes around here!"