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Erick watched Solomon walk through the portal of the slime dungeon like his world was falling apart, but he needed to keep it together anyway. Erick felt the same way. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened here in the clearing in front of the dungeon, for Melemizargo had kept him from interfering as he worked some sort of Wizardry in the area, but based on the shadows in the history of the manasphere… Erick was sure of one thing.

Solomon had experienced a deep expression of Time with his daughter, Debby.

And Debby was Solomon’s daughter, for sure. Debby was Solomon’s, in a way that Debby was not Erick’s at all. Erick wasn’t sure why he felt that way, but he did. As he looked to the other girls, and to Jane in particular, he worried. He thought.

And he realized he wasn’t going crazy, which would be the more rational response right now.

For some reason he wasn’t going crazy with Debby’s death… Or maybe he was numb right now. Maybe. Solomon had seemed to go crazy for a long moment there, as he cursed and begged miracles from the mana, and Debby’s corpse continued to cool, there on her white stone bed. That’s what the initial signs of ‘crazy’ should probably look like; not this numb feeling that Erick was experiencing.

Erick looked at Debby, dead and cold on that white stone bed like she was enjoying a nice dream, and she wasn’t deader than dead. She wasn’t even warm. Solomon had only been worrying over her for an hour, though. She should still be warm, right? Why wasn’t she warm?

She should have been warm. Right?

In a disassociated sort of way, Erick looked to his girls, all of them standing to the side, all of them talking softly with each other— They noticed him. All five of them stepped forward, trying to be the first to say they would take care of the body, but that rapidly stopped when they all saw each other try to do the same thing.

Jane spoke for them all, “We’ll take care of the body.”

Erick wanted to say no. He wanted to tell them that they were all kids, and that he was the adult, so he would take care of this. But that was an incorrect thought. They were adults, too, and they seemed to want to do this; to take this burden upon themselves.

So Erick said, “Okay, Jane. Girls—” He couldn’t leave it at ‘girls’; that would be a loss too great. He named them all. “Abigail, Beth, Candice, Emily. Jane. I love you all. Thank you. I need to check on Solomon.”

And then Erick went to Debby and kneeled by her corpse. His hand hesitated.

She was cold to the touch.

Erick stayed there for a moment.

Eventually, he got up and went to the dungeon.

- - - -

In the kitchen of the replica of his house in Spur, Solomon was trying and failing to explain anything at all to Poi, or to himself. He shouted at the walls. He punched the table. He wrecked papers. Benevolent Lightning fried diagrams on walls, destroying their simple, easy-to-understand records of what had been pulled from the Dark, and what was coming next. Over the last 45 days, the kitchen dining room had been transformed into a base of operations, while the actual dining room had been used for eating. And now Solomon was destroying the records.

Poi tried to understand. Erick tried to understand. They voiced their question and they were met with rage. Their misunderstandings only invited more anger—

“I don’t understand it myself!” Solomon shouted, as he shook his left arm. A broken line of black and silver wrapped around his forearm. It was the remnant of the Bracelet of Memory. “This fucking transfer failed! That atomic woman FAILED. All I have are half-memories and…” He let his anger flow away.

Erick and Poi waited.

Solomon secured himself. He stood strong. With a whip of mana and intent, Solomon restored everything that he had destroyed. Diagrams, papers, all of that returned to their proper positions. And then Solomon looked at Erick, and said, “There is only one thing I truly know, Erick. I know that I am also Erick, but of a different Path than you. I experienced lifetimes when I held Jane’s hand. In all of those lifetimes, I was the One Who Lost Jane. I was the one who died to my own hubris. I was the one that the gods fought and won against because I went crazy with grief. I also know that I am not going to do any of that, because I’m more than the sum of my parts.” Solomon breathed deep. Guile stood at his side, looking up at the man. Solomon said, “I am more than what I was, and I will get Jane back this time.”

“… You understand how worrying that is to me, yes?” Erick asked, being forthright instead of circumspect, moving past his own emotions. Perhaps some tactfulness would have been better, but after Erick said the words, he knew they had been the right words to say. Solomon breathed deep. He settled. Erick said, “I see that you do understand. Do I need to worry about you, Solomon?”

“I understand more than you know… More than I know, too. This anti-meme is getting to all of us… Somehow. I’m not even sure how it works, only that it does. It got Jane— Debby… No. ‘Jane’. She was Jane, you know.” Solomon said, “A lot of different Janes from different… Places. My memory of all that is kinda shot…” His voice trailed away as he looked at the broken black tattoo around his wrist again, saying, “Never gonna get those memories fully back, either. It’s all going to be a mess for the rest of my life.”

Erick thought back to the clearing, in the moments when Debby took Solomon’s hand, and then all of the myriad shadows that came afterward. He thought of Debby dying there, and suddenly it hit him all over again. He had lost a daughter, too, dammit! Why wasn’t he allowed to grieve?

Debby had been there all the time, listening to him talk of magic... and to Solomon talk of magic, too.

… She had gone dungeon delving with Solomon, not with Erick.

She had listened to Erick’s multiversal theories of magic. She had tried her own. And then she had taken off after talking to him in his office about needing to do this… this exploration of mental magic threats. She didn’t confront Solomon about her leaving them. That journey had taken her all across the world, and then she had come back to him—

Except she didn’t come back to Erick at all.

She came back to Solomon.

Was Erick allowed to grieve at all?

Erick wasn’t sure. All he really knew was that he needed to be there for Solomon.

And so, Erick spoke softly through the tears, saying, “The girls are doing something with her body. A burial, or something. Do you want to do something else?”

Solomon tensed. He fought back a rage with the cold hard fact that other people were hurting, too. He was still ‘Erick’, even after his experience with Debby there in that clearing. Or at least he would be for a little while longer. He saw Erick. He saw Poi, standing to the side, looking worried but not saying anything. He glanced down to Guile, standing beside him in a companionable manner. Those two had grown to be good friends in the last few months, which was great to see. And then Solomon looked back to Erick.

“Sorry. Obviously you’re hurting, too…” Solomon went silent. “They can handle Jane’s funeral, if that is what they want to do.” He looked toward the hallway. He stepped that way, saying, “I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me for the funeral. That corpse is not my Jane and I won’t watch her End. I’m gonna find her again, and bring her back.” He was at the door to the hallway, his back turned. He stopped.

Erick waited.

Solomon continued on, not looking back, saying, “I’m going to sleep for a while.”

- - - -

The funeral took several hours to put together and then longer.

A day after Debby died, they held her funeral. It was a quiet affair.

Erick was surprised, and not surprised, to learn that the girls each had all of their death paperwork in order. What they wanted to be said over their dead bodies. Where they wanted all their stuff to go. Each of them set up some paperwork so that if one of them died everyone else got a split share of their wealth. Each one of them had planned for their possible death on this endeavor, this Sundering Search, and they wanted those that remained to have everything they left behind.

Jane read Debby’s speech. It was short. It was written months ago, back when Debby was still freshly created from her dungeon master slime; a fresh repro. Debby had been surprised to learn that she wasn’t Jane, and that made her mad. Her final letter also told of how she desired to do some magical learning this time, and that she was going to learn from their father because she had never done that properly.

“ ‘And if I should die before everyone else, one of you’—” Jane breathed. She grinned, but it was a malformation of emotion, too strained in multiple directions to be a real grin. “ ‘One of you cunts better learn from that man and become a respectable mage. I’m sure if we actually tried to learn magic from someone who knows magic, we might actually learn something’. And that’s where it ends.”

Erick was already drowning in sorrow, but it all hit harder in that moment. Tears flowed freely.

It just didn’t seem real, and yet it was.

They scattered Debby’s ashes across each continent, at the places Debby had said she wanted her ashes spread. Archipelago Nergal, on a nice beach near a Hawaiian-like isle. At Wyrmrest Mountain, near the Firemaws and their endless red flames and lava pools. In the Underworld, near the cavern of tornado obsidian. In the Tribulation mountains in Nelboor. And finally at Ascendant Mountain, on the balconies of their crystal hotel room, overlooking the depths below, where Debby’s ashes could disappear into the crack in the world. Tens of dungeons lurked in those depths, each one of them filled with horror and adventure alike.

The others jokingly complained that now they needed to pick new spots.

At the end of it all, there the family stood, on a crystal cliffside of the hotel room with the sun setting in the west and all the world painted gold. Tears flowed, halting and yet free.

Jane wiped her face, sniffled, then said, “Well this cements that I want a wake at my funeral. No tears. Only drinking.”

“Oh for sure,” Candice said, “This was way too fucking depressing.”

Abigail said, “She went out a hero.”

Jane sighed, saying, “A great big fucking hero.”

Beth said, “A great hero.”

“Who took our paladinhood from the rest of us,” said Candice, half-jokingly, half-very-seriously.

Emily broke down sobbing, saying, “I love you all.”

And that started the full group hug, with everyone crying. Erick had five surviving daughters. He loved them all as if all of them had been with him his entire adult life.

Ophiel swooped down from the sky to hug all of them as much as he could, and each girl hugged the Ophiels. Yggdrasil had only watched until that moment, his big [Scry] eye made smaller for the occasion, but now he sent a small mental question, wordless and yet full of need, and Erick nodded. In a flashing second Yggdrasil’s current [Avatar] form of a big orcol male in a formal black suit stepped out of a portal, already crying. He joined all the rest of the family on the crystal cliffside, and his hugs were a welcome addition to the group.

“Holy fuck this is exhausting,” Candice eventually said. “I need sleep now. Wow.”

Erick chuckled at that. “Funerals are exhausting…” Softer, “Especially big ones.”

Yggdrasil asked, “Why didn’t Solomon come?”

Erick had no good reasoning to give, so he said, “Because he didn’t want to see it finalized. He’s going to…” Erick said to all of them, “Don’t treat him gently, for that would make him angry. But do be there for him. He’s having a harder time about this than… Than any of us. I think he went through a good thousand hours of talking and trying to talk to Debby, there in that clearing. Constant retries of... of I’m not sure. All I know is that I tried a [Return] to get back to before Debby appeared and all that happened, but it didn’t work. I zeroed out my mana, even with the Script helping me. That means… Well. You know what that means. You all have my numbers.”

It meant Erick could go back in time around 18 minutes without needing to do Wizardry, which should have been more than enough time to get back to before Debby descended. Erick wasn’t going to say that out loud, for that was an operational security risk. Other nations had surely put together that particular bit of information, but there was no need to go spreading that information wide, especially in a non secured area.

At the concerned comprehension of the girls and Yggdrasil, and even Ophiel, Erick nodded.

Emily asked, “What does that mean, dad?”

Erick said, “Aside from the unknown memetic threats and responses and whatever happened there. I think what happened there was the same reason that Paradox Wizards can’t get to the dawn of Veird’s existence here in this New Cosmology. You all heard that story about the Time Wizard who they tried to use to fix the world post-Sundering?” Concerned looks shifted to comprehension, and Erick added, “Yeah; whatever happened in that clearing is similar. Time Magics were used too much in that area and so that time became both indelible, and impossible to traverse. There’s no rescuing Debby from the fate that happened in that clearing.”

Erick’s children all nodded or frowned or thought, as they considered his words—

“I’m done for now.” Candice said, “I love you all. I have to sleep.” She came up to Erick and hugged him again, and then she broke off and went into the hotel, headed straight to her bed.

The others had similar, but softer ideas. They simply split off, giving Erick one more hug before leaving him behind. Soon, it was down to just Yggdrasil, Emily, and Erick. Ophiel remained, but he did not have much input on what came next; he was still struggling with what had happened in front of them all. When it was just Erick and Ophiel, Erick expected the little guy to ask something of him, to try and understand what this funeral was, and why it made everyone sad. But for right now, Emily stared at Yggdrasil, and Yggdrasil stared back, both of them unwilling to speak.

Erick broke the stalemate, “Who wants to go first with their big news? Or do you want a coinflip and we go that way?”

Emily faltered—

Yggdrasil blurted, “I want another Fishery like the one you gave to the Freelands. That’s it. Simple! Sorry. I didn’t expect it to be a big deal. I didn’t know how to say it, either, or even if it could be done… That’s all. It’s completely inappropriate for this…” He trailed off, looking self-defeated.

“We’ll look for one, Yggdrasil; absolute—”

“Okay I have to—” Emily began, but failed to finish, because she transformed into a man, her purple coloring of her nails and hair transforming into something brighter, more magenta than purple, which had been Emily’s original way to mark her as different from the others. He was remarkably handsome, with broad shoulders and just a bit taller than Erick, while his coloring was obviously demi. He had a concerned look on his face as he said, “I’m Evan.” Evan threw up his hands, saying, “That’s all! … Uh.” He demurred, “… Yeah.”

Erick smiled and took his son in for a hug, holding him tight. Evan was frigid for a moment, and then Erick said, “I’m glad you have decided to live your best life. Love you, Evan.”

Evan thawed in great big sobs as he hugged back.

Yggdrasil tried to back away—

Erick grabbed Yggdrasil with a free hand and pulled him into the hug. His huge arms went around both of them and Evan chuckled. Ophiel wasn't sure what was happening, but he joined in, too.

And since Erick had his two boys with him —and one eventual boy when Ophiel materialized— he decided it was time for a Talk. “Now you both know to use protection when you have sex with girls, right? There’s this nice little plant that grows in Nelboor that deadens the little swimmers for a day—”

Yggdrasil muttered, “I know not to—”

Evan laughed loud.

And Jane came back out to the group, for it wasn’t like ‘the guys’ were being quiet at all.

Jane said, “Okay fine. We go for a wake. We can just do that. It doesn’t have to be planned. Debby would have wanted it.”

Candice rose out of her bed like a zombie, muttering about how she was ready for a party, too, and then Beth and Abigail followed.

Evan told Erick, “I’m still into dudes, dad; my ‘swimmers’ don’t matter.”

Erick laughed as he nodded. “That’s one way to ensure no accidental pregnancies.”

Jane clapped her hands, drawing attention, as she said, “Who wants to go get Solomon back out here for the wake? And also where are we going?”

Everyone froze.

Erick said, “He’s not going to…” Erick stopped. “You know what? I will still ask him, and then try dragging. If he doesn’t give in to that or if he zaps me then he can stay behind.”

- - - -

Guile said, “See that! They are coming back to you.”

Solomon wiped away a tear, as he shut the [Viewing Screen]. He was sitting on the edge of his bed in the dungeon house. Guile was on his own cat bed at the side of the room, in the sun, or at least in the light that passed for the sun down here. Solomon sniffled, then said “They didn’t have to. I’m not going.”

“… Are you positive you didn’t want to go?”

“I’m not going,” Solomon said. To go would be to acknowledge that Jane was dead. “Same reason I didn’t go to the funeral.”

Guile looked like he was going to choose his next words carefully, and Solomon suddenly hated him for that, and for all the ills in his many different lives. That sudden hatred was completely irrational, for Guile never fucked up his life before, but Solomon still hated him anyway.

Guile picked up on some of that sudden hate, so he paused. And then he reconfigured his thoughts and plainly stated, “Right now you are in a state of disharmony. I didn’t catch much of what happened in that clearing, but I caught some, and you were split across ten thousand lifetimes and blasted with the memories of ten thousand horrors.” He pointed two golden tails toward Solomon’s wrist, where the black Bracelet was a broken tattoo on his skin and soul. “That is broken, but it is mendable. But like all horrors in life, running from the truth only empowers them more. You, my servant Solomon, need to have a clean meeting with this reality that Jane is dead, and that Jane has always been dead—”

Solomon crackled with lightning. White sparks clattered across his bed, leaving black holes in the fabric and setting a small fire to the headboard. For some reason that loss of control pissed him off more than anything else… And at that thought, at the ridiculous idea something could actually be worse than what had happened yesterday, Solomon sobbed again.

Guile waited.

Solomon sighed, breathed, and looked at his wrist. “How do I repair it?”

“There is no perfect repair possible. But you can mend it. You can make it functional despite the complete lack of animating soul within that working. To do that, you need to clean it up some. Like when repairing a broken vase, one must first gather the pieces and then glue them all back together, making up for what was lost in the breaking in one way or another. Glue of some sort is a popular choice.

“Luckily, you already know what the main purpose of this broken artifact is; to Remember. Everything about it is based on that. Also luckily, this artifact is already a part of your own soul.

“All of that makes what comes next easier.

“You have a broken soul, Solomon. It was not broken before the Bracelet touched you, but in the touching of that Bracelet, you have gained perspective that most never gain. And so, like the missing parts of the bracelet, you are missing parts of yourself. Repairing a soul that has seen multiple realities is not easy, for in most cases all extra lives lived usually result in a clouding of purpose.

“But your repair is easy, because your purpose has clarified, instead of clouded over.

“Most of the healing will simply take time. Souls repair on their own. Therefore there is a very good chance that the Bracelet and its power will come to you in time. But this is doubtful. And so, you must actively repair it, and to do that, you need a unified vision for what comes next, because you are not a single vase anymore.

“Mending a broken vase is easy enough, but you have become ten thousand broken vases.

“So you must find a focal point to build around. A Truth.” Like a fox knowing more than he should, Guile said, “And with the death of the hero Jane, you have found most of your Truth. Now you just need to put that to ordered words. And not today, either. Don’t even think about your Truth right now. Take a week of mourning. Of slower repair. And come back to this problem later.

“But first, you must acknowledge that the vase has been broken. Otherwise how will you ever see the pieces you are missing?”

Solomon sighed, then tried to countermand Guile’s logic. “Souls are not vases.”

Guile leveled a soft glare at Solomon, saying, “Stop being pedantic with the ancient fox that has done more to help people find their own Paths in life than you will ever be capable of knowing. And go to your daughter’s wake. You missed the funeral, and that will already haunt you for all the rest of your existence.”

Solomon felt his stomach drop as the truth of Guile’s words hit him squarely in the chest. He whispered, “I should have gone.”

“Yes you should have, but you chose not to. It was a bad choice. Those happen. Now make a better choice.”

Solomon’s stomach dropped again. “… I always make the bad choices, don’t I. I’m the Erick that makes the bad choices.”

Guile hopped off of his bed and up onto Solomon’s. He sat next to him, saying, “Then aren’t we both glad I’m here to help you make better ones.”

Solomon sighed. He thought. And then he stood.

Guile nodded, and then he transformed into a golden bracer that was already upon Solomon’s right forearm.

Solomon walked out of his bedroom and went to the foyer where Poi and Erick both stood, waiting for him. Solomon said to Poi, “Sorry about yelling at you.”

Poi shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

A certain weight fell from Solomon’s shoulders, and then he looked to Erick, and said, “Okay. So a wake. Did… Did anyone plan it?”

“We’ll play it by ear.” Erick transformed into a male demi with pale purple skin and tiny horns, adding, “We’re all going out as a family to this place they all love in Songli. This is the general form.”

Solomon nodded, and then he transformed, too. “Yeah. This works.”

Ophiel turned into a bright magenta bird, perfectly shaped and tweeting in tiny thunder sounds.

Solomon blinked. Was this really—

“Clan Phoenix, yes,” Erick said, smiling. “Patriarch Xue is gonna have some enforcers making sure we have a good night and aren’t bothered. It’s time to get wasted.”

Solomon smiled a little. “And spicy food, right?”

Erick nodded. “I am sure I will be shitting fire tomorrow.”

“It’s what she would have wanted.”

- - - -

It was two days before they were ready to get back to ‘work’; to rescuing useful artifacts and people from the Dark. There was a discussion before they proceeded, though, with everyone standing in the kitchen of the house under the dungeon.

The current list of items to be rescued stood to the side.

Solomon waved a hand at the list and the 1-10 list gained a number 0; an addition at the top before all others.

Erick frowned. “You want to go after the Lifeblood Heart?” That was the main item that Rozeta wanted, for it doubled the mana production of every living thing near it, and ‘near it’ was the size of an entire region of stars; light years across. Or at least that’s what Rozeta’s projections detailed. Space was different here in the New Cosmology, and the effect of the Heart would either be greatly extended or greatly shrunk. It was hard to know. The plan to retrieve the Lifeblood Heart had a thousand similar problems with completely unknown ways to account for them, and the main problem hadn’t even been accounted for. Erick said, “That thing will fly right out of here, Solomon.”

Solomon said, “I acknowledge the possibility that we can’t retrieve it because it might just fly away, and that it might be too early to try for it. But I want to try.”

Silence.

“Even if Rozeta gets it, she doesn’t have a good way to hold it down,” Evan said.

“I think it will fly away into the other walls around the dungeon, right into the Dark,” Jane said. “Lost forever.”

“We won’t even get that far,” Candice said, “The Heart won’t come through the Black Gate. It’ll fly right out of the view into the Dark. We’ll be lucky if we get to see it for a single moment before zipps away! Gone forever.”

Guile stepped forward. “Actually, I am not sure if it would fly away. With proper Grand Wizardry, and with proper planning, it could be sucked right through the Black Gate and instantly anchored to Veird’s core. This would, of course, require Melemizargo’s agreement and Rozeta’s agreement and all the other Relevant Entities agreeing to a certain course of events, but the manaminer of Veird, the Script, already grabs mana production and produces that mana inside the Core, instead of letting individuals produce their own mana. It should not be that difficult for Veird’s Core to take in the production of the Heart, and maybe even selectively open mana flows here and there to make sure the Heart remains inside this manasphere for a while. There are records of the Heart flying by Old Cosmology manaminers and those places gaining control of the Heart for a short while. Compared to those old manaminers, the Script is absolutely stronger, in many different ways.”

More silence.

Erick said, “An agreement of that level is never going to happen. But! I would like to know why you want the Heart, Solomon.”

“Because I feel I could Ignite into Wizardry if I had double mana production,” Solomon said. “I and all the girls and Evan have hit a wall with mana production increases gained through dungeon kills. We could all continue doing that slow path, of course, but permanent increases past 500,000-ish mana per day is about as much as an un-Ignited soul can handle. Steady mana production gains tapers off long before that, at around 300,000. However, having more mana production means more of an imprint upon oneself and the mana, and so, if we were to double our mana production, then all of us would have over a million mana per day, and that’s low-level Wizard-levels right there. From there, we’re all an Ignition away from having that much mana and more, permanently.”

Guile nodded.

He had put Solomon up to this?

… No. That was too paranoid. Solomon wanted solutions, and Guile had solutions.

Solomon said, “But! I agree that this is a risky venture, which is why I numbered it 0, instead of 1. I’d like for us to get started on the necessities for all of this, while we continue to go through the normal list, but I want the Lifeblood Heart at the top. I really want to try and figure out how to get that Heart here, to Veird. And I want your help.” And then he said, “I don’t want to leave my Jane behind.”

Solomon had spilled some of his story, his memories of other realities, while they had all been drinking as a family. His experience of holding Debby’s hand had been similar to how everyone had experienced a weirdness of different lives when they broke that dungeon core at the beginning of all this. At that dungeon core breaking, most of the girls experienced lives as different slimes, but most notably Evan had been born a boy and lived his life raised by his mother instead of Erick, while Debby had experienced one partial memory stream as Erick, because her slime had been rather close to the one that actually became Solomon. It had been a chance of fate that Erick had picked Solomon to be Solomon, and not Debby, and the other way around, too. Just ten centimeters to the left, and… Things would have been different.

This recent business with the Bracelet was ten thousand times deeper than that core breaking.

Into the silence, Jane spoke first. “Okay. I’m not sure how I can help, but I will try.”

Erick said, “I’ll go talk to some gods.”

Solomon breathed deep, looking relieved. “Thank you.”

- - - -

“This close to the Prophesied Storm, Erick?” Rozeta asked. “Seriously? And that’s not even getting into all the other…” She stopped. She looked concerned. “Is he okay? Mentally?”

Erick decided to go to the Orrery of Rozeta down in Continental Nergal to have a talk with Rozeta without any of the others being present. He met with the Goddess of the Script in a tall tower south of the Orrery, on a separate mountain peak. To the north, beyond a very large window, lay the Orrery; a grand diagram of the solar system of Veird that took up an entire mountain top. Snow gathered on the surrounding mountains, but not on the grand moving spheres of platinum and platinum-inlaid-adamantium, as they floated in a dance dictated by physics and made possible through magic. The sun at the center was beaten copper, and it glimmered red-gold in the cold light of the real sun overhead.

The whole thing had gotten a real upgrade in the last decade. It used to all move on continually-updated mathematical mapping magic that needed to be cast every day. Now they just [Renew]ed the whole thing through a node network that was cleverly disguised as perfectly circular orbital lines.

It was really quite pretty. There were even a few very large orbitals that were for comets that showed up every once in a while. Erick had never seen one of those comets in person, but the next closest one, the Violet Star, was set to show up in 18 more years.

Erick said, “Solomon has shown some signs of breakdown so I’m going to draw out this Lifeblood Heart for months, if I can, and if we actually decide to do this. But he’s okay, Rozeta. He’s not a threat.”

“Good.” Rozeta sighed. “Good.”

And then she thought.

Erick waited.

Rozeta said, “Explain to me the entire idea of the Heart, and why Solomon wants this. What has Guile said on the matter.”

Erick began with, “Well. Surprisingly enough, Guile thinks it’s possible because…”

It didn’t take long to convey the entire reasoning.

Rozeta listened.

When he was through, Erick added, “I don’t know if it would even be a good idea to do this, because we only get one shot at it, and Guile’s idea of ‘attaching the Lifeblood Heart’s production to the Core’ seems incredibly risky, for any number of reasons.”

“There is merit in Guile’s idea,” Rozeta said, “But yes; I would not wish to have my father interact with the Core at all, and especially not by invitation. My father is slightly more trustworthy these days, but I gave him a century timeline as a base toward regaining trust, and I am not voluntarily moving that goal closer.” And then Rozeta’s white wrought eyes gleamed with gold, and with what Erick thought might be pure greed. “And yet, I want the Heart. Of all the natural treasures of the Old Cosmology, it was one of the largest and most useful. That thing flew across the Old Cosmology like a lifegiver to pass by low-mana worlds and double their sizes in a day, Erick. It never went to the big places because as soon as it did the mana pressure caused it to fly away, you know. It actually had a tendency to go to manaminer worlds, though, because the mana was controlled and smaller there. It wasn’t till the Heart got close that those worlds’ mana spilled out and pushed the Heart away.

“Even the briefest touch of that treasure would stabilize Veird for generations. With that much mana production I could secure so many parts of the Script—” She cut herself off, forcing her greed to quiet. She sighed a little, then said, “But it is too early and we’re too close to the Prophesied Storm. It’s still between a week and 4 months away, yes?”

Erick had checked on the Benevolent Sky this morning, which was beginning to become a regular occurrence. Most things in the Sky were too far away to matter and other people checked on the Sky all the time and they were better at that checking, and Rozeta was one of those people, but the Storm was getting close…

Erick said, “It’s a dark tangle in the white lightning that shifts from being near the edge of the Node space, to set back and slowly still approaching. I can’t see much more than that.”

Rozeta grumbled softly. “I was hoping you would have better news than that.”

“I do not. We’re likely going to need to pause all Dark rescues for a time, too, though I am loath to do that because I promised Yggdrasil a certain timeline and we’re halfway through that timeline, but then there’s this Storm.” Erick said, “At the wake… He was so happy just being a person on that dance floor with all the other people. I think he’s afraid of pleasure because he knows I’m near him always and that’s horrible. I don’t want my son to resent me, Rozeta.”

Rozeta cared; she did. But she also frowned a little. Her duty overrode all personal concerns.

Erick said, “I know you’re probably considering that releasing Yggdrasil is the start of the Storm, but I don’t think that’s what is going to happen. I also don’t think letting the Heart come to Veird would cause a Storm, even if it does require the concerted efforts of all Relevant Entities and also Melemizargo to ensure the Heart remains here for a time. What is going to cause the Storm is when we find the Sundering Source.”

Rozeta skipped all of Erick’s speculation, asking, “How are you so comfortable allowing Melemizargo that much power after what he did?”

“I’m not comfortable at all,” Erick said, and then he took a moment. “But also… Debby wanted to find something. Melemizargo helped her find that thing. And Debby also went around cleaning up a few tens of messes that I never knew about, and then she came back and gave Solomon something that he is still dealing with. As far as I know, at no part in the entire process was Debby coerced by anything other than her own morality and choices. She died a hero whose actions will save the world someday, I am sure of it… Also, I’m rather sure she specifically was not ‘my Jane’. She was Solomon’s—” His voice cracked. It was tough for him to say that Debby was Solomon’s daughter, but he knew it to be true in some ineffable way. “He’s taking it a lot harder than I am.”

“… There’s a lot there that I am just going to leave be, Erick, and simply say that you should not be trusting That Dragon this much.” Rozeta said, “But the part about Debby telling Solomon something and now Solomon wants the Heart is setting off red flags for me, as you say…” She paused.

Erick waited.

Rozeta said, “There’s a reason I asked after Solomon’s mental health. There’s a secret to the Heart that I am now sure that Guile has absolutely told Solomon, and which he should not have done, because that secret should have stayed secret, because that secret of the Heart has killed countless nascent Wizards. It’s also the reason that I am rather sure I can actually capture the Heart for Veird and stuff it in the Core… If certain precautions were taken first. Those precautions would last for a while. Maybe as little as a week. Or as long as forev…” She adjusted her words. “Maybe just a year.

“But it can be done.

“In the Old Cosmology people would chase the Heart, but the Order of the Sacred Pulse would try to dissuade people from that, usually through force. They wanted the Heart to fly across the universe as it was wont, because that is what they believed was the best course of action for the universe. And so, the Heart flew where it wanted. But the Old Cosmology had dangerous places, too. The Heart could have been destroyed if it went wherever, like it if ever went to the Abyssal Depths. And so, the Order of the Sacred Pulse took to shepherding the Heart a little, and only when absolutely necessary. But how can you shepherd the untouchable? It wasn’t actually through [Force Wall]s or anything like that. Those simple methods do not work.

“But the Heart can be absorbed by people. For a time.

“A person can brave the mana tide from the Heart, and all the mana spilling out of their own core, and touch the Heart. It would be like walking through a tidal wave with the source of the waves constantly running away from you. But people managed it. And then they absorbed the Heart, and transformed. If they survived the absorption they became Wizards. In that moment of Ignition, with all that greater self-mana generation from the new Wizard, the Heart would erupt from them, pushed on by forces beyond anyone's control. This was a very violent event, as you can imagine. The Heart Eater, as they were known, would need to survive both intake and exit. Most people who got that far managed that much.

“The Heart would then continue on its path through the universe, but the Heart would usually be wildly knocked off course. And so, that is where the Order of the Sacred Pulse would step in.

“That is how they would shepherd the Heart. When the Lifeblood Heart got itself trapped circling a dangerous Void or Abyssal Star, or when someone from outside the Order managed to capture the Heart for a time, the Order of the Sacred Pulse had an Initiate of the Heart go to the Heart, absorb it, and then aim it back onto a proper course, in some direction that took it back through civilized lands. In that action, the initiate would become an archmage, or sometimes a Wizard. Usually just an archmage, though. The Order did not like the Heart moving too fast.”

Well that was all very interesting.

Did it change Erick’s mind about letting Solomon have this?

Erick said, “And Solomon wants to hold onto the Heart for a little while.”

… Erick wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Undoubtedly.” Rozeta said, “That ability to absorb the Heart is what I will be using to contain the Heart to Veird for a little while. I’ll need to construct a path for the Heart to exit the Core so it doesn’t just erupt out of the planet and take lots of lives with it, but that shouldn’t take too long. It is possible that I could even construct a series of bouncing ‘holds’ between Veird and the Silver Star, but I doubt such a thing is possible, for if I aimed the Heart at the Silver Star…” She shrugged. “With the force of all the mana of Veird pushing it away, the Heart might simply go right through that uninhabited moon; only un-bodied souls are up there, and they don’t make much mana. So I won’t be doing that. I could try aiming at the sun, but that seems like a bad idea. I absolutely don’t want to lose the Heart in that fiery destruction. It’d probably go right into the sun and then disintegrate under dense particle forces and no opposing mana source in the sun… Depending on how the Heart is translated to this reality, of course. It’s very possible that it might cause all the world to erupt in physical material, in which case it will need to be destroyed instantly.

“Though the Heart was the furthest thing from cancer, so I doubt it would act like that in this New Cosmology.”

Erick was glad to hear that the Heart wouldn’t be a cancer —which was one of his many different worries about the artifact— but he would certainly be taking steps to ensure that something like that did not happen. Or at least, he would be taking the steps he could theoretically take, like singing to the mana about ‘healthy growth’ instead of ‘unlimited growth’. It would be a similar situation to the Life Seed that they had given Fangorl.

But besides that, something tickled Erick’s memory when Rozeta mentioned starlights. He asked, “Didn’t you all drop the starlights in the sun to make the sun at the start of the Script? Shouldn’t there be some mana up there? Or did you find the Killing Sun already here? Stories are conflicted.”

Rozeta said, “Those starlights were destroyed by the Killing Sun when they dropped out of our control and we allowed them to fall into the sun that was already here. That story you heard about us actually making the sun? That was embellishment of mortals, and a misunderstanding which we allowed to happen. There’s a lot of that around the start of the Script, post-Sundering. We did not make the sun, but a lot of our stuff fell out of our control, into the sun.”

Erick moved on. “Should we allow Solomon to absorb the Lifeblood Heart?”

“I’d wait till after the Prophesied Storm has passed, and then say I’ll likely say ‘maybe’ and ‘depending’. This is if I get everything else up and organized, which is a big ask. I still want to do this, though, Erick.”

Erick understood that feeling well enough. “So what items would be best to have for the Storm?”

“Have you tried the dungeon down in Storm’s Edge, yet? Sininindi and I spoke a day ago about how things were going and if she needed help with anything, and she spoke of the dungeon down there being 90% ready for you to visit, to take the Shield. It might only be a few more days until the Lightning Shield re-materializes from that place. The dungeon itself is only 70% ready for an evacuation of the Archipelago, as per my understanding.”

“Ahh… The Ritual of Breaking the Shades performed on that Shield… Quilatalap realized that scenario? Made it possible to steal the Shield from them?”

Rozeta shrugged. “I think it’s close. You would have to go there yourself to see one way or the other.”

Then it was probably time to go back to Storm’s Edge.

Erick smiled a little bit. He could see Quilatalap again… if the guy wasn’t working himself to death like he usually did when he was deep in dungeonwork. If they were 90% ready for him to take the Shield from the Shades…

It was probably time to force the big guy into a proper break, and also work some Wizardry. Either event seemed fun! And ‘fun’ seemed important right now, even with all this work looming overhead, and this anti-meme business which surely got Debby murdered…

Erick brushed away a fly, then asked, “The anti-meme that you all used with Everbless… That’s not gotten out of its cage, has it? As a reason for why we can’t find the Sundering Source, I mean.”

“What we gave to Everbless was a basic anti-meme that self-regulates to death. The Propagation Ban, you know. People and living things might mutate, but cast magic does not, thanks to the Propagation Ban.”

“… Until magic matures into a real thing, like with all those memetic threats Debby killed— You know.” Erick paused. “When I gave you a blanket offer of help on all the problems of this world —which I have done many times and continue to do— I did not expect to find out that the Inquisition and the Mind Mages were keeping threats controlled instead of letting me help them End those threats.”

Rozeta smiled a little. “The Inquisition and I talked about that, years ago. We decided to not get you involved in those problems because the risk of infection running rampant outweighed the reward. Anyway—” Rozeta said, “The anti-meme we granted Everbless to make people not connect him to Gold Taker has an expiration date of maybe a month. It could have lasted years more had you and Quilatalap not been allowed into the circle of people who know of that anti-meme, but that particular magic always had a general end date. This is the complete opposite of the dangerous memes and anti-memes your daughter ended. Those were cancers that gained strength in the unknowing. Everbless’ spellwork is a divine gift from Sininindi that she controls completely, and which the Script watches over to make sure it doesn’t mutate. And it’s not mutating. I’ve checked.”

“Could there have been an anti-meme that mutated to block out the Sundering Search?”

“Doubtful. We would have no reason to make such a thing.” Rozeta was satisfied with that answer.

Erick was not. “… Unless you had a reason for making such a thing, and you don’t remember.”

Rozeta frowned a little, shaking her head. “I really don’t believe we would do such a thing, Erick.”

… And that’s what it was, for now.

Erick stood, saying, “It was nice to talk, Rozeta. Looks like it’s back to work for me.”

Rozeta nodded. “Always a pleasure, Erick.”

- - - -

Erick stepped through a ring of white lightning, leaving behind the frozen Splinter Mountains of Continental Nergal to stand upon the castle fortifications surrounding the Grand Dungeon of Storm’s Edge. The sky in the distant northwest was cloudy with thunderheads piled high, like an ever-stretching pile of cotton that wisped out here and there in flatter sheets, where the air density was set slightly different within the space of the Script. Below those clouds, not visible from this location due to mountains, was Everbless’ Cove and Yggdrasil’s brother himself. Directly north from Erick lay the monster road, where Everbless’ anti-meme’d avatar, Gold Taker, funneled thick, mana-laden air and monsters toward the dungeon, here, in the center of the island, to a valley located between many mountains.

The place was honestly looking rather great.

It was still a very large valley of flat stone and high walls, but those walls had been transformed from temporary fortifications into permanent structures filled with solidness and some bureaucracy. Erick had [Gate]d directly onto one of the side fortifications, so he wouldn’t step right into the major fortifications to the south, where a large intake center and barracks had been placed.

The land outside of the fortifications and the fortifications themselves had become refugee detainment centers and rife with protective spellworks, layered with node networks that were much more guarded than the anti-magics strewn throughout the air.

Erick turned his attentions toward the valley floor.

Inside of the fortifications lay the main, flat dungeon ground. Instead of short valleys and raised areas all throughout the many square kilometers of the valley, which had served to guide monsters to dungeon portals for dungeons 1 through 7, the monster roads led directly to monster intake portals, located to the very edges of the valley floor. Those monster entrances were specifically for monsters, and they were guarded as such.

The main entrance to the dungeon, for people, stood exposed in the center of the valley, like a 10 meter-wide black disk, set upon the face of a white circle of stone just so that people would go through the proper side, and not the backside. All around that entrance were a few scattered lookout towers, with colored lines of stone upon the valley floor. Those lines were like the Gate District’s direction lines, to help guide people in and out and all that jazz. To Erick’s All-Seeing Eye, the place down there was absolutely layered with power.

Not a whole lot of people down there, though.

Just some guards here and there. There were a lot more guards and otherwise inside the fortifications and outside of the main valley, all of them getting ready for the Prophesied Storm, while the dungeon entrance itself looked rather… Unguarded. There was a single skeleton standing in front of the black portal and a bunch of surrounding, invisible magics… Which was probably enough for Quilatalap… Or rather, ‘Vanya’.

Was Quilatalap still incognito? As far as Erick knew his cover hadn’t been blown at all.

Erick stood where he entered the valley, very clearly visible to all who might look his way, very much out of place on top of the fortification, keeping his own eyes peeled as Ophiel flew everywhere, looking at everything. He was waiting.

Soon, his welcome wagon appeared.

The Archmage of the Regent, Lady Wiloza Tidewalker, was an older woman with tanned skin and her grey hair done up in a bun. She was publicly a Stone Mage, but in reality she was an Ooze Mage with a focus on Stone. The elderly woman appeared at the Gate that led to Storm’s Edge, rushing forward through the small crowd, telling slow guards off as she cleared the no-flying zone and took to the air, flying in Erick’s direction. By the time she arrived all of her worries at Erick’s arrival had vanished under professionalism and she was much better put together.

Wiloza landed beside him. “Greetings, Wizard Flatt. What brings you here?”

“Greetings, Wiloza. I’m checking up on everything. The Prophecy is either 4 days or 10 days or 4 months away, and I heard the Shield might be ready for pickup.”

Wiloza winced. And then she tried, “Are you sure there are no better prognostications than… That scattering of unknown dates?”

“Apologies, but that’s the truth. Sometimes these things are funky that way. If you pardon the spellwork, though.” Erick raised his hand and looked to Wiloza, and Wiloza was calm. So Erick cast a Privacy around them. They could still see out, but to everyone looking their way, they wouldn’t see anything at all. Erick lowered his hand. “I am going to be doing checks every now and again going forward, looking for lightning-ringed persons—” Wiloza gasped a little, but she maintained. Erick continued, “I hope not to find one, but there is that possibility, and so I will be looking into that. Do you want some enchanted glasses or a ring to let you do your own looking? The glasses are better than the ring. Either way, I must warn you that if you do see anyone that you cannot do anything against them. You must report them to me, directly. I am deadly serious about this restriction, Wiloza. Also, you will give the ring back after this Storm passes without trying to dissect how it works, and without giving it to anyone else.”

To hand out a Benevolence Ring, as some people called them, was a very big deal.

Wiloza and Erick both knew what he was saying.

The ring and the glasses were highly regulated items, all of them numbered and kept track of inside the Benevolence research department, but they weren’t that enchanted or powerful at all. Mostly, they were complicated runic web workings with a bunch of tracking spells and solidification magics and a Drain/[Renew] that allowed the whole thing to function in certain ways first and lesser ways secondarily. Their primary function was to be located, so that Erick and House Benevolence knew where they were at all times. Their secondary function was the [Benevolence Detection] spell, which was a simple spell that Erick cast himself, which he could cancel at any point in time with a concentrated thought.

Wiloza smoothly said, “I accept this restriction. I’ll take a ring. Can they be tricked?”

Erick plucked a ring from his pocket, but what he really did was reach through a small [Gate] into House Benevolence, into the detection cases where everything was labeled and tracked. He picked up Ring 7 and marked it down on the list, which automatically alerted both the Offices of Enforcement and Magic to this action. With ring in hand, Erick cast the [Benevolence Detection] spell on the ring, and a bit of [Renew] activated the various other magics upon the thing. He canceled the tiny [Gate] and handed the ring over.

Erick said, “They can be tricked. I wouldn’t rely on them fully.”

They couldn’t be tricked; not really. Erick had done extensive testing, through many experiments. Even if someone projected an illusion of a lightning ring around their neck, or if they used Benevolence to make a ring around their neck, those paltry things just didn’t compare to the real thing. A ring-wearer or a glasses-user could instantly tell the difference.

They would just know.

The only real way they could be ‘tricked’ was by severity. Sometimes the loss of life which led to a Benevolence ring appearing on a target was as few as tens of people, for some wearers of the ring were very sensitive to that sort of thing. But [Benevolence] didn’t just trigger on those who would kill, or harm. It triggered on those who would help and support their communities and the world, like some healers and teachers.

That was why these things were so highly regulated.

There was no way to know which way Benevolence swung on any given ring without some investigation.

Erick felt he could trust Wiloza, though.

Wiloza put the ring on a finger, saying, “No such thing as Shadeproof, is there.”

Erick smiled at that. “No, there is not.” And then he asked, “So how are things out here? Outside of the dungeon?”

Wiloza seemed to relax a little bit as she said, “Massive influx of people. Just as big of an exit, though. Real estate prices are in massive flux from people trying to leave and nobles buying up all they can because they want to stay and then there’s development on the south side of the island where the storms never get too bad. Lotta people are expecting this whole thing to blow over. The Priestesses of Sininindi are giving us trouble with evacuation plans, though. So if you want to put your finger on a scale, that’s probably a good place to start.”

Erick was almost disappointed that there was a problem with the priests at all, but Tiza Nindi would go to the grave hating him, so this news wasn’t too much of a surprise. “Is Tiza still blaming me for the coming Storm?”

“Not openly, but quietly, yes. She raised a stink over some Aroidos trying to come back to Storm’s Edge, too, and from there it was a whole big thing with the Reincarnated and all that.”

“… I’ll visit her later. What else?”

Wiloza smiled a little, saying, “Vanya has managed to get 39 out of 147 inhabited islands of the Archipelago to sign on for her dungeon evacuation protocol, and yeah, that’s not much, but it’s good enough, and maybe 20-ish of those might actually keep their words! More might join in when the lightning starts flowing, and...”

As Wiloza talked, Erick felt she had an easy sort of way about her these days. Probably because she didn’t have to worry about any Aroidos going crazy anymore, and there hadn’t been a single dungeon incident at all ever since Quilatalap took over. And then Erick asked about that, and Wiloza told him what he already knew to be true. And then she told him something else.

“We’ve even got some delvers delving in the last few weeks,” Wiloza said, as though that wasn’t a big fucking deal.

“I thought the dungeon was closed to delvers,” Erick said.

“Most delving, yes, but Vanya opened up two wings of her grand dungeon, and they’re working out well. The Water Temple and the Stone Temple. The dungeon does need to be mana positive, after all.” Wiloza shrugged. “Or at least that’s what Vanya tells me.”

That’s what Quilatalap had told him, too, but Erick didn’t think the guy was going to actually open them for delvers for… A while? Well. Erick wasn't sure. For ‘a while’, at least. And yet… Yeah. This was normal for Quilatalap. He liked people testing themselves against his creations, and he liked to test his creations, too. So if parts of the dungeon were ready, then sure, he would open it for people to test themselves again.

Erick said, “Thanks for the updates, Wiloza. It’s time for me to go inside.”

Wiloza bowed.

Erick canceled the Privacy and did a little show of transforming into Benevolent Lightning to ‘lightstep’ to the dungeon entrance. He chuckled to himself as he thought of Tiza Nindi watching, because she was always watching whenever Erick showed up, and she always complained of him using lightning at all. It was kinda fun to ‘go out of his way’ to purposefully use ‘lightning’ when he visited Storm’s Edge—

He and Debby had laughed about that once, when he told her that, before she went on her meme-hunt…

Erick sighed a little, then he straightened up and nodded at the skeleton ‘guarding’ the main gate. The skeleton nodded back, then stuck a hand into the black entrance to the dungeon. He pulled his hand back, and then bowed toward Erick. The skeleton had signaled someone inside, then; probably Quilatalap.

Erick strode into darkness.

- - - -

Erick lay in bed with Quilatalap, staring at the ceiling, saying, “I know there’s this anti-meme in the air, Quilatalap, and everyone has been exposed to it and that’s hampering our investigations… But from what Zolan and Burhendurur and Poi have told me, memes should not be this powerful. There are always ways around them. They’re basically just very, very advanced Book Magic… And it really seems like we should have figured out something solid about it by now… Solomon’s memories are shot, though. He knows something just like Debby knew something, and Solomon is fixated on the idea that if he gains more power he can do something, and I’m kinda worried about that.”

Erick had opened up about a lot with Quilatalap in the last several hours they had both spent inside their [Hasted Shelter]-surrounded cottage in the Storm’s Edge dungeon. Both of them were free to be themselves in this space, for no one else could ever find them or know about them in here. This place was secure.

Quilatalap had allowed Erick to talk about everything, without giving much back except to question motivations and desired outcomes. But now, with one arm around Erick and both of them warm together, he began, “If the anti-meme is insidious enough to cause Melemizargo to do any sort of Wizardry at all, then… I’m not sure how to help you with that, Erick, except to be here for you, and with you, and to say that no matter how dangerous the effect is, ultimately you have survived this long and so has Veird, so we must be doing something right.” He continued, “As far as Solomon goes, I can say that you at your worst is still better for this world than a lot of people at their best, and I highly doubt that Solomon is anything close to ‘dangerous for the world’… But soul shifting or whatever it is that was done to him can be truly life altering. I would have to see Solomon myself to make a judgment call, but since you and everyone else has survived and Solomon was at a wake and not killing people, he’s probably fine.” Quilatalap looked at Erick, and said, “I’d trust you or any shade of you with power, and even if I don’t understand the exact nature of whatever happened with Solomon and Debby, I trust Solomon with power, too…” He looked away. “But at the same time I trust Melemizargo with power, even if he was insane for a very long time, so maybe I’m not the best one to go to for making judgments of that nature.”

Erick smiled, holding onto Quilatalap a bit stronger, saying, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And then Quilatalap put it all out there, asking, “Now… Do you want to talk about how to get Debby back? What steps Solomon might consider taking? I’m rather sure that’s a near-impossible task, but I might be able to provide a perspective that is rather uniquely qualified at bringing very, very dead people back to life, as compared to Guile, who probably gets through life with fae trickery…” Quilatalap said that last word with heavy disdain, holding back a tide of dislike. He moved on. “Or do you want to help me with the dungeon? And the Lightning Shield?”

“Let’s just lay here for a little bit longer and then…” Quilatalap hadn’t wanted to visit the slime dungeon yet, because this dungeon here was taking up all of his interest and time, but things had changed recently. So Erick offered, “Do you want to come visit the Black Gate Dungeon? Or the ‘slime dungeon’. Not sure about the name yet. And yes; we should get the Lightning Shield before we go. I can make that final step happen, or be there for it, or however you’ve set it up.” Erick asked, “Have you finally figured out something you wanted from the Old Cosmology? To rescue from beyond the Black Gate?”

Quilatalap shook his head a little. “The copies of myself that are Vanya and Soltic are both great dungeon masters, but I won’t leave this assignment especially when Prophecy looks to be headed in this direction. I’m the director of the main defensive structure in the area, after all. If I stepped away I would never be able to erase that dereliction of duty in the eyes of the Pantheon, and especially in Sininindi’s eyes.” He patted Erick where he held him, then got up off the bed. “I still don’t have a target for you beyond the Black Gate, but besides that—” With a big smile and his lower tusks jutting far, he said, “Let’s go see if I managed a ‘Black Gate’ of my own.”

Erick got out of bed and was dressed in a flash, smiling as he said, “You’re really happy about this.”

“Taking things out of the Dark is a legend, Erick. So yes, I am excited.”

“Did you recreate the whole Ritual of Destruction? How many ‘Shades’ are we talking?”

Quilatalap smiled as he flickered with shadow and armor appeared atop his body. It was black and angular and he had two great big curved horns on his head, like he was some sort of demon-dragon-orcol hybrid. He looked quite dashing, actually, and very similar to how he looked the first time Erick met the man, back when he was called ‘Caretaker’ and he pretended to be the Shade of the Armory.

“The ‘Ritual of Breaking’, though ‘Destruction’ works a little bit, but it’s more complicated than that. It’s about using opposing magic to fully break something. Elemental Destruction is in there, of course, but the main element to use against something made of Lightning is Elemental Abyss,” Quilatalap said. “The whole thing is already almost too real to be comfortable, so I’ve kept the entire thing in a [Stop] until I’m ready to go inside. We’ll have to fully purge the scenario after we make it all fully real and take the Shield, for I will not be someone who brings forth over a hundred ‘normal’ Shades to Veird.” Quilatalap forced some of his mirth away and looked Erick right in the eyes as he clearly stated, “We’re not saving these Shades, Erick. None of that, you hear?”

Erick raised an eyebrow. “… That’s concerning.” After a moment, Erick decided to trust Quilatalap’s judgment— Which reminded Erick— “I thought you weren’t letting people delve the place until it was fully ready? Until the Storm passed? I heard delvers were in the dungeon already.”

“Eh!” Quilatalap shrugged, his black fullplate making Erick feel some interesting ways as the archlich continued to move with grace even under all that black metal. “Plans changed, and the Regency and Everbless and the Priests want money and assurances. They’ve been sneaking in all the time, too, using the monster entrances, and when they found 2 of the 6 main dungeons fully realized they decided to push the issue. Water and Stone have been ready for a month, but Fire, Light, and Air are only another month away. And now the Storm is almost here. All those facts sort of combined last month, and so I had to approve some people, if only to let them inspect the dungeon in their backyard… And then they took advantage and started delving, which is normal, I suppose.”

“Have they gotten into the Shadow side yet?”

“That place is locked up tight, so I don’t think so.” The Caretaker held up a hand to the side and a brilliantly dark spear flashed into his gauntleted grip, the heavy butt of the thing hovering just a centimeter above the ground while the head flickered with reflected starlight. A void spear; one of the strongest types of weapon there were. Quilatalap was going all out, it seemed. “I aim to keep the Shadow Dungeon that way. After we partake of the ritual and extract the Shield, I’m ending that scenario.” He said, “You should know that I hadn’t really forgotten how terrible some of my coworkers used to be, but the reminder is why I requested you don’t extend a [Blessing of Empathy] to any of them at all. They’re from another era and I cannot trust them with anything; they would break that Empathy and just turn into a malignant force, Erick”

“I understand. Message received.” And then Erick pointed at the spear. “I thought that was your Void Spear, but it’s more than that, isn’t it. It's a major artifact.”

Quilatalap grinned. “It is more than my normal Void Spear, this is correct. Your offer of rescues of artifacts from the Dark is appreciated, but I can make my own just fine.”

“I knew you could, but it would have been rude and unkind not to offer.”

Quilatalap leaned in and gave Erick a quick kiss. “You ready to get going?” He gave a nice turned side-profile and smiled. “Or do you want to ogle me some more?”

“Ogling is great.” And yet, Erick could see that Quilatalap was really interested in getting the show on, so Erick added, “But we can do that later.”

“Excellent!” Quilatalap flipped his visor down. His eyes glowed white as soon as the visor locked in place, solidifying his persona as ‘The Caretaker’. “You’re probably good in what you’re wearing, but something more dangerous might be appropriate.”

Erick looked down at himself. It was all highly professional white with black trim and silver accents. “This is standard ‘fancy attire’— Oh. Wait. I see.”

“Go darker, please.” Quilatalap said, “And be prepared to be the strongest version of yourself, because anything less is asking to be assassinated at this ritual.”

Erick put on a smile, and put on his black outfit. “I would expect nothing less from Shades.”

Quilatalap rapidly added, “And also Purodhalia decided to show up; he’s been here for a week now, and he’ll likely be at the ritual because he likes the Shadow Dungeon. The [Stop] doesn’t work on him, like usual.”

Erick had a lot of mixed feelings about that.

“… Well… It will be nice... To see Purodhalia again, I suppose— Is he actually cognizant this time?”

Purodhalia was the black spiker ‘monster’ that chased Erick and Jane across the desert when they first fell to Veird all those years ago. He was Melemizargo’s very, very old [Familiar], and he was barely able to hold a thought in his large spiky body for much longer than a day. He only really communicated with the Shades, preferring only to speak to Champions based on what Erick had learned about him in the previous years, but mostly Purodhalia hid. He was very good at hiding. The largest interaction Erick had ever had with the [Familiar] was there at the very beginning of his life on Veird, when he matched Erick and Jane’s running speed until Erick [Cleanse]d them, removing Melemizargo’s scent marker.

Other than that, Purodhalia had popped up a few times in very random places, like near the Wake Up House years ago, and then another time over by Olooraptoor in Nelboor, before he raced away once he had been seen. Erick wasn’t sure of what connection Purodhalia had with the whole hierarchy of the Cult, the Clergy, and Melemizargo and the Dark, but he was somewhere at the level of a ‘special Shade’.

Mostly, the bundle of long spikes, like a thick black urchin, hid until Melemizargo gave him very small, easily executed commands, like ‘protect these people that smell like me’. Other than that, Purodhalia was easily spooked and prone to wandering off from whatever task he had been given.

“Purodhalia is the same as he’s always been,” Quilatalap said. “But he has stuck around here for a while. Not sure why. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Ahh…” Erick picked up what he was putting down. It was time to properly get to work. Erick took a moment and tried to fully divorce himself from his anger at Melemizargo for what happened to Debby. It helped that Debby had chosen… Had chosen to go out on her own terms. Erick breathed, and then he asked the Dark in the corners of the room, “Why is Purodhalia here, Melemizargo?”

“He has to be somewhere.”

Quilatalap was ready for the response. Even so, the Archlich of Necromancy Itself froze as Melemizargo’s voice filled the room. He thawed after a moment.

“Good enough of an answer as any,” Erick said. Then he took Quilatalap’s hand into his own. “You’re gonna be able to be yourself for this, right? Are we in danger of people spying on this?”

“I will be there, which is why I put on the armor. No one should be capable of seeing us or interacting with that space.”

“Good.” Erick felt better. “I was hoping I had read you right.”

- - - -

Erick felt rather well-dressed in his absolute-black suit. He even had a black half-mask, so that was kinda fun. Ophiel was trying out a full-black coloring of his own with some heavy sharpness to his feathers, like he was a cross between a black crow and an angel-knives [Familiar]. The little guy looked great. Erick was ready.

The Ritual of Breaking took place, of course, in Ar’Kendrithyst.

The sky was bright and all of the purple-red spires of Ar’Kendrithyst were filled with dancing shadows, but thunderclouds roiled in the distance. Wind flowed through the upper levels of the Dead City and sparks gathered on the corners of crystal, like glinting white and gold hatred. But shadows roiled harder than clouds, and darkness drowned the lightning. Thunderheads got no closer than the walls of the Dead City. The ritual site was well protected from Sininindi.

They were in a well known location; the Abyssal Lake. Or at least high above it, near the skyline of the Dead City.

The land to the south west was crowded with bulbous, black crystals, each of the largest ones easily kilometers wide. That was the Armory, as it had been for the last 900 years, until Erick came along.

Ahead of Erick and Quilatalap, beyond a crystal bridge that ended in nothing, lay a grand hole in the skyline. That absence continued down 30 kilometers, the red-purple crystal of Ar’Kendrithyst turning firmly purple and darker when it got deep enough, with the waters at the bottom of this area all firmly black. This was the Abyssal Lake. The only thing Erick truly knew about this place was that this is where things went to die in the depths, drowned by Abyssal Magic that was deeper here than in most other places on Veird. This is where Fallopolis murdered the Shades she had decided to Cull from the Clergy, for things died easily down there, but that was only one small slice of what happened in this place, and Fallopolis wouldn’t be here in Ar’Kendrithyst for another… 400 years?

Erick asked, “When did this happen, exactly?”

Quilatalap stood at Erick’s side, looking like a proper Shade, his helmet making his eyes glow white. “Roughly 650-ish post Sundering. About 100 years after the theft of Kendrithyst from the wrought. This Abyssal Lake used to be their Pure Lake; a source of great healing. But then we desecrated it and so it was used to kill the unkillable for a very long time; until you came along and changed everything.” He asked, “I think Anhelia is still trying to make it Pure?”

“Is that what she’s doing,” Erick said, as an answer slid into place regarding a question he didn’t even think to ask. “I wasn’t sure what she was doing… But I wouldn’t have guessed that. Elemental Purity is Banned, so that’s never gonna happen like that— Ah. Sorry. Silenced and Banned.”

The air had flexed when Erick mentioned Elemental Purity, in such a clear manner. ‘Pure’ was fine. But ‘Purity’ was not.

Quilatalap shrugged off the minor inconvenience of the Script’s interference, looking concerned as he said, “I’m surprised you know about that. Yes; she can’t make it Pure as in Purity, but she can make it Pure as in Pure Water. That is the meaning I was going for.”

Erick chuckled as he realized Quilatalap had heard him say ‘Elemental Purity’. “I guess you put up a few anti-Script measures in here?”

Quilatalap looked even more uncomfortable, and Erick realized that he had misinterpreted Quilatalap’s earlier emotions. “Actually, I have not put any anti-Script measures into this place at all. Sininindi wants the Script here, and I have obeyed. But… But the real Abyssal Lake breaks down everything… And I think that is what we are experiencing. I believe I told you that I had to [Stop] this area to keep it from becoming real, and—” Quilatalap stopped suddenly.

For echoing laughter and joyful hatred flowed up and out of the Abyssal Lake ahead, filling the sky with taunts.

“Okaaaay,” Erick said, “That sounds ominous.”

“I set up the place to be rather real and I think your presence or my presence or something has triggered something deeper. This is go-time, Erick. I had hoped to have some time explaining what was going to happen—”

A meter-thick line of gold-white lightning chased through the skies all around at the speed of light and gathered into a crackling whirlpool above, to strike straight down into the center of the Abyss ahead. Divine lightning hit a sea of Shadow and Gloom and broke off in a hundred different layers of varying density down in the canyon ahead, to spark left and right, to get gobbled up by leviathan shadows with ruby-red eyes. The wyrm-sized monsters seemed to like eating lightning, and especially the divine kind, which… Was not that surprising, considering what was happening here. The Shade would have prepared something like this to combat the Lightning, for sure.

“… That should not have happened yet,” Quilatalap said, walking forward to stand directly above the abyss below. Erick was right there with him as they both looked down into the black depths. Tiny lights held in the black down below, maybe 25 kilometers away. Hard to say. Quilatalap said, “Looks like the party has started. It’s rather straightforward, Erick. We get down there, you take the Lightning Shield, and we escape. But. They are prepared for a full assault and they will take the Shield and hide it if we kill any of them outside of throwing our weight around. We have to approach the gathering as a part of the gathering; meant to be there.”

“Okay.” Erick took Quilatalap’s free hand into his own and the big guy flinched a moment, before holding tight. He was nervous for some reason. Erick spoke calmly, and a little happily, as he seductively asked, “Can I be your plus-1 for this event?”

Quilatalap gripped Erick’s hand tight. “That sounds like a great way to play this.” He breathed out, and became the Archlich of Necromancy Itself, the Immortal Scourge of the Rage, and a good twenty other names given to him by people and even a few gods ever since Veird fell into the New Cosmology. Mostly, he was the false Shade Caretaker. In an even voice, Caretaker stated, “Kill two or three of them when they challenge you; but don’t endanger the whole group. The current Champion of Melemizargo is a man named Verrod of Vast Skies. Defer to him and to me, but to no one else. This event today is a triumph over the Pantheon. All of the Clergy will approach it as thus until events conspire otherwise.”

Erick squeezed Quilatalap’s hand once more, then let go and adjusted the collar of his suit. “Ready.”

Quilatalap nodded once, and then he stepped off the edge of the road.

He fell like a black meteor, straight into the maw of a shadow leviathan that was the size of a large dragon. Caretaker punched straight through the beast’s throat, the archlich’s touch ripping away gloom and churning the meat of the very-dead leviathan into a splash of gore. Amidst a red rain, Caretaker descended into the abyss, his trajectory and speed barely affected by the leviathan’s ‘attack’.

Erick followed, feeling Darkness all around like he was passing through a very, very large Black Gate. And maybe he was. Quilatalap had wanted to talk about what he had done to make this place, but he hadn’t gotten the chance, and exact reasonings were hard to suss out when Wizardry got involved. This particular jaunt seemed filled with Wizardry.

The red-eyed leviathans of shadow all around seemed rather real enough; more so than conjured monsters, anyway. Perhaps in Quilatalap’s original script for this part of this dungeon, the person going first would meet the leviathans first, which held with most established dungeon ‘tropes’, as the Delver’s Guild outlined as ‘best practices’ for first encounters. But the red-eyed beasts were eyeing Erick rather hard from the distant edges of the abyss, and they seemed to be thinking of a course of attack. Or at least some of them were. ‘All monsters left behind will attack you eventually’ was another trope of best practices…

Eh.

If they attacked, Erick would kill them. For now, he followed—

Ophiel caught the wind a little and ripped off of Erick’s shoulder, giving a sudden squeak as he went. He came back to Erick’s shoulder fast enough, but Ophiel’s lost propriety seemed to be enough of a signal of weakness that the leviathans attacked.

Erick casually twisted Benevolence into kilometers-long ribbons of soft white lightning that went straight into Lightning-sucking maws and flashed deep into gloomy bodies. Organs and bones and previous meals briefly lit up those insides, like lightning passing behind clouds, and then erupted from every possible solidness inside, like the branching of trees. These particular red-eyed beasts could easily devour elemental Lightning, but Benevolence was not Lightning; it just looked like it.

In the flash of Erick’s power, seven of the nearest leviathans died in midair, their Elemental Gloom bodies losing their magical power, becoming dragon-sized corpses filled with charred holes and a bit of green growing here and there. As those bodies joined the fall of Erick and Quilatalap they began to grow even more life—

Bioluminescent mushrooms, all bright white and purple and green, sprouted out of the bodies. As those shrooms grew big enough they broke away from the leviathans like parasols catching wind. Spores spread, like glowing dust.

“Huh!” Erick called to Quilatalap. “That time they made mushrooms!”

Quilatalap burst through a leviathan that was larger than the first one, spreading more red rain around his fall. He looked up, then called out, “Looks great, honey!”

Erick smiled and laughed, and as he laughed, the sounds of laughing Shades rose through the abyss, their party down either going strong, or all of them were pretending at joy while they waited for Erick and Quilatalap to get closer before they tried some shit. They were probably going to try some shit as Shades were wont to do, but Erick had scared off the leviathans in the air, which made the fall into darkness a bit more bearable.

And yet the leviathans continued to gaze at Erick, their bodies poking out between the spaces between the kendrithyst spires, like the maw-filled fingers of an eldritch god peaking around the frame of a door, each of them with bright red eyes shining hard in the gloom.

Erick appreciated the white lights of the shroom’d corpses better than the eye lights of the leviathans. Since when did leviathans have eye lights that were different from white, anyway? How strange.

The shrooms made more sense, but only barely.

Erick hadn’t intended for his Benevolence to make life, but sometimes that happened. He never quite knew what life would sprout from the odder applications of Benevolence, either. Most of the time that life could grow well in the environment in which it originated, though, which was kinda neat.

Those fast-growing glowing shrooms with their wide parasols weren’t stable enough to stop or slow the falling leviathans, but those windcatchers did manage to withstand the wind pressure until they were full grown. Soon, many glowing mushroom caps trailed clouds of glowing spores, before they broke off from the falling corpse like falling stars and trailing nebulae. Soon, Erick had adorned the sky of Abyssal Lake with something akin to Elemental Starlight. Elemental Abyss destroyed a lot by its basic presence, but certain things flourished in the deep; Void and Star were two such Elements.

It wasn’t long till the leviathan bodies were mostly disintegrated, half-eaten by the spreading shrooms and half ripped apart by the wind, as they fell. That gore wouldn’t last long as soon as it hit the waters below, for something down there would surely eat it, but if not, then the mycelium colony Erick had birthed in this dangerous location would eventually finish the job.

Caretaker led the way, still falling in the dark, while Erick followed, starlight and glowing spores spreading far and wide. Looking up, the world was a point of light high above, like a sun. Everything else was black with red glints and soft starlight.

Down below, the Shades waited, cackling and laughing on what appeared to be… Well Erick wasn’t quite sure.

- - - -

The party took place on a whole bunch of black kendrithyst boats floating atop the Abyssal Lake, around a black crystal pier, all of the crystal chased with lights, while the sounds of the damned filled the air with ‘music’. It was a party of sorts, but it was, of course, a Shade party. This meant horrors, but the largest horror was the lake itself.

The whole lake was about 7-ish kilometers wide with the entire coast ending in sheer purple-black kendrithyst crystal cliffs and black ‘waters’ of Elemental Abyssal that were near-completely still. There was probably a layer of actual water atop the elemental manifestation of the depths, but it was as thin as a razor’s edge. What lay beneath that was the physical and magical sensation of crushing, and that crushing sensation extended into the air above the waters. Erick hadn’t experienced much air or water pressure on Veird because the whole world was Scripted to be mostly uniform in ‘depth’. There were, of course, places where ‘the depths’ survived, and this Abyssal Lake was one of those places. Erick and Quilatalap and all the Shades were easily surviving this crushing reality. Some adventurous Shades were even showing off by swimming in the Elemental Abyss and splashing each other with droplets of the stuff…

Which actually was impressive. Erick could do that, too, but it was just so… Extra.

Elemental Abyss, kilogram for drop, was ‘denser’ than even the densest of metals. A single splashed drop thrown at a person was like hitting them with a [Force Bolt]; it did damage. Erick watched as one Shade woman splashed a minor wave at that other Shade, and though it looked like some adults playing in the water, it was more like one person throwing 10,000 [Force Bolts] at another. The man protected himself and twisted the Abyss around him as he laughed, pretending not to feel the drops, but he did. There was no way around that. The pressure at the surface of the Abyssal Lake was already akin to being [Telekinetic Squeeze]d on all sides by an archmage, so to actually swim in that water was like experiencing, well, a Shade casting [Telekinetic Squeeze].

Because of this omnipresent pressure, it was little surprise that every single Shade had on a Domain of some sort. Normally, having a Domain or an active power at a Shade party was a grave form of disrespect, but these people were very ready for both the Ritual to come, and for someone to try and interrupt it all. This ‘boat gathering on the pier’ looked like ‘fun’ and ‘games’ and people drinking alcohol on a Fourth of July boat party, but that was a very thin veneer, and beneath it all lay horrors.

Erick watched one of those obvious horrors as he descended to the welcoming zone of the party with Caretaker.

Over there, atop a kendrithyst platform floating atop the Abyss, was a small orchestra made from twisted metals and twisted bodies. What was left of several people breathed through flutes and through tubes, making something akin to ‘music’ with their basic bodily functions, but which was really just them trying to breathe. A nearby Shade ‘motivated’ the band with raising or lowering their platform closer to the waters. When one person broke down crying and they went way out of tune, the Shade telekinetically ripped them away from their cohort and threw them in the waters where they instantly compressed into thin lines of gore and more twisted metal.

Erick sighed as he softly landed with Caretaker atop a circle of black kendrithyst that was the welcoming zone, floating atop the lake by a mere decimeter. The pressure standing on that welcoming platform wasn’t too bad because Erick had his sunform active, held tight against his skin and on his soul. Caretaker was doing fine, too, enveloped in Elemental Death. Most of the Shades were using Elemental Shadow to protect themselves, but some were using more alternative means.

Erick distracted himself from the horrors of the Shades by thinking about all of that for a moment.

His own Elemental Benevolence was probably the simplest way to protect oneself against an antagonistic force; simply pushing back on the enemy and clearing out a space of power for oneself. Such a defense was among the more expensive ways to protect oneself, but it was also average. In a lot of cases, it was better for a person to use an Element they were familiar with than one that did the job ‘better’, or cheaper.

Using Elemental Shadow against Abyss was cheaper, for Abyss was Shadow-aligned, and Shadow could either adapt to the depths with minimal effort, or simply choose to not be affected by the depths. A shadow cast from a person was not affected by pressure at all, after all. Either avenue of approach had its benefits and drawbacks. Adaptation led to one being able to act normally in such a situation, and was Jane’s preferred choice, with her Prismatic adaptive power. Acting like a cast-shadow divorced the user from the situation, though, making them ephemeral and non-interactive, protecting them from Abyss rather well.

Quilatalap’s Death Domain was simply the still, inevitable end that awaited all forces aimed his way. In that sort of understanding, Quilatalap’s Death Domain was both adaptation and evasion, but an adaptation of the exterior force into one that could be evaded and lived-within by Quilatalap.

Of course, that was Quilatalap’s and most other people’s idea of what ‘Elemental Death’ meant, which, in turn, is how Elemental Death protected them from outside forces. Most people had different ideas of what Elements did what, and that either contributed to or hindered how one could use those various Elements in various ways.

The Elements still had certain inalienable and non-connotative ways they functioned, though.

Some Elements had a very hard time existing down here just because of what they were, like Light and Air, and all of those comparable Elements, and especially Lightning. This fact made the Ritual of Breaking rather potent when used down here, in the Abyss, against the Lightning Shield.

That artifact sat on a central kendrithyst pillar in the middle of the Abyssal Lake, about 3 meters from the surface of the lake, and surrounded by a bubble of translucent Abyss. The Lightning Shield was a shield of pure white metal, simple in construction, with four small spikes around the edge and one slightly larger spike in the center of the shield, pointing outward. Lightning lingered upon those sparks, jumping from point to point, occasionally striking against the abyssal bubble-cage and yet failing completely to free itself.

It called to the Storm high above, so far beyond the walls of Ar’Kendrithyst, and the Storm tried, and failed to answer.

The shield was guarded by Shades, after all. It was also guarded by a leviathan that curled around the black crystal base, lounging around like a seal half on shore, half in the waves. That leviathan gazed at Erick and Caretaker with half-lidded red eyes before it turned away, to look at the Shades splashing in the ‘water’ in front of it.

From all across the small, impromptu gathering of boats and nude swimming in the depths, Shades were already looking their way, but most went back to their groups to talk about this or that when a war didn’t instantly break out. Only the ones nearest to the welcoming zone kept their eyes on Erick, and Caretaker.

One of those people stepped away from his group of ‘friends’, a smile full of fangs as he said, “Welcome to the party, Caretaker and guest. What might your name—”

And something shifted.

Erick saw that shift primarily in the souls of all the Shades all around, and in the power in the air. Like when people woke up beyond the Black Gate, the souls of the people here began to stabilize, to thicken with density that swirled into their cores and then went blank, for they were now beyond the scope of normal sensing magics, like all Shades tended to be unless they specifically made themselves otherwise.

But Erick’s All-Seeing Eye around his neck still made them and their actions visible.

He saw the one approaching them trying to sneak power through his bare feet, into the crystal underfoot, to strike up at Erick with some sort of Abyssal spellwork.

Erick pointed at the spellwork, interrupting the Shade’s words with his own. “If you fire that at me, I will annihilate you as I did those leviathans up above.” The Shade’s grin turned even more deadly and his spell mutated, falling deeper into the crystal, throwing up some sort of Illusion work to pretend to simply be stilled, while in actuality the spellwork went wide, into the Abyssal Lake, to prepare a well of power just beyond the welcoming platform. Erick adjusted his finger to point at the new source of power. “One last chance to not make this mistake.”

Caretaker spoke, “Kill him and be done with it, Erick.”

Erick did so, Benevolent Lightning flickering out to annihilate the Shade, piercing through a sudden protective spellwork blossoming around the Shade, made of Shadow, Abyss, and one final layer of what felt like a Water Domain, which had been the Shade’s strongest defense. It did not save him. Benevolence traversed all barriers. That Benevolence coruscated from the Shade’s dead flesh, sparking here and there as it ground itself upon the crystal underfoot, and upon the spellwork the Shade had been charging up.

Illumination soaked into the Abyssal Lake and ended there as the Shade fell to the ground and began sprouting glowing mushrooms. The light of those shrooms was comparable to the light of the lanterns and party lights hanging all around, and like those other lights the shrooms only served to make the shadows that much deeper.

As the Benevolence finished flickering and the shrooms finished growing, the gentle drift of spores and mushroom-infested leviathan gore began to strike the Abyssal Lake like sparks falling onto solid stone. Mostly, those sparks died. But here and there some shrooms began to grow upon the surface of the Abyssal Lake itself, like floating lilies.

Erick smiled over the corpse of the former Shade, saying to the man’s former group, “Hope you all don’t mind the lights! It’s not actually Lightning, as you’ve probably guessed, so it shouldn’t interfere with the Ritual of Breaking at all.”

Every nearby Shade was watching him, but many were watching each other more; Erick had made a splash, but he was not the target of focus yet. The Shades, as ever, fought each other more than they fought outsiders, for they were the power in this world and all outsiders were fair-game playthings.

Caretaker gave Erick an easy side-glare which was easy enough to read. Erick had stepped too far out of line, but it wasn’t a disaster yet.

Erick shrugged at Caretaker, saying, “There’s no way that my invitation here was going to go unnoticed. Might as well say hello properly.”

Caretaker gave a tiny nod.

Erick stepped forward and flicked the mushroom corpse into the Abyssal waters. Some of it sank under the surface, where tiny, near-invisible abyssal fish began to rip into it like a whole lot of carnivorous minnows, but most of the body stayed on the surface, the mushrooms growing from it shrinking under the pressure and glowing brighter, like stars upon an inverted sky. They looked sort of like puffballs.

So a multi-form sort of shroom. Beautiful.

Erick turned most of his attentions to the dead Shade’s small group, saying, “Hello there. I’m here for the show and maybe to steal something if an opportunity should arise.”

Slowly, surely, like a sun dawning, Erick watched as two of the three Shades from the dead Shade’s group went from ‘Do I need to kill him?’ to ‘Is this guy serious?’ to ‘Oh Melemizargo, he is! How hilarious! Let’s let someone else kill him’. The hard lines of thin lips turned upward at the edges and eyes full of light crinkled in the corners, and these Shades allowed Erick to believe that he was safe. A guy two barges over —who looked very ready to throw down— laughed first, and loud, and his reaction was probably more genuine. The girls and guy in the dead Shade’s group waved Erick off and then went back to talking amongst themselves, pretending not to look at Erick as they continued to openly plot against any others, discussing who they could murder to make themselves look stronger. The music of tortured souls once again rose into the thick air, and the party, which had never really stopped, resumed.

Erick took the dismissal from the first Shade group with aplomb, walking forward down the central pier of the gathered boat party, saying, “First thing to steal is some pastries. Caretaker!” Erick called out, as he turned— And Caretaker was already there right behind him. Erick pretended to be surprised. “Oy! You sure can sneak up on a guy’s backside when you want to!”

Shades chuckled, some of them still watching Erick for weakness. At his casual joke they mostly decided not to try shit, but some of them looked at Caretaker for weakness, because no matter what, Erick was being way too friendly with Caretaker, which meant this was a deep relationship. They looked to exploit that.

The Caretaker of the Armory put a hand on Erick’s empty shoulder, his voice rumbling, “I had forgotten how charming you can be sometimes.” Quilatalap was playing up the deep relationship, which was not that hard. “Want to strip and join the swimming?”

“Ahhh! You tempt me… Later. I should go say hello to that guy you mentioned, right?”

“Sure.” Caretaker lifted his head toward the barge next to the Shield. “Verrod is over there.”

Verrod of Vast Skies was a demi of grey skin and white hair who sat on a comfortable beach chair on a taller barge than most. He wore a loincloth of black and his white eyes were focused on the sky, on falling mushrooms that fell like slow comets to the lake. He was not the only one watching the show still falling from above. Aside from the other mostly-nude people on his barge, Purodhalia was there.

Melemizargo’s [Familiar] was a 10 meter tall black-spiked sea urchin. He clung to the back of Verrod’s barge like a settled spider.

“Oh!” Erick said, as he started walking that way. “Purodhalia is here, too?”

Meaning: ‘Is that really Purodhalia?’

Quilatalap said, “I’m as surprised as you are.”

Ah. That was the real Purodhalia.

Erick had no idea how they were ‘beyond the Black Gate’ without the 'disintegration from incompatibility with Particles and this world' issue. How, exactly, had Quilatalap done all this? Where, exactly, had the Wizardry started to transform this world into something real? Maybe Sininindi was to blame, but really, Erick was probably to blame—

Or Melemizargo!

This might be Melemizargo’s fault. Yes. Let’s go with that.

Erick led the way down the pier and now they were there, at the gangplank leading up to the Champion of Melemizargo’s vessel. A few Shades lounging on the lower decks looked at Erick and Caretaker, swishing their drinks in hand, but none of them made to stop Erick as he led the way onto the ship itself.

Up a small staircase, up onto the upper sun deck, Erick strode, saying, “I have to say, I feel kinda overdressed.”

No one acknowledged Erick. All of them continued to stare at the slow starfall, seeming to enjoy it a lot.

Caretaker came up to Erick’s side. “The formal ceremony won’t be for a while so we can change if you want. Although, we are still waiting for Sininindi’s forces to make some sort of move.”

Without looking at Erick, Verrod said, “And you might be that move, Erick.” He tore his gaze from the sky, and that act seemed to pain him. With blazing white eyes he regarded Caretaker, and said, “Caretaker. Your new boyfriend sure can put on a show. What Element is that? Something new, and yet it appears like something old. Like Primal Lightning with a Growth flavoring.”

That was a dangerous accusation, but it had been said with all the depth of someone talking about the weather.

Caretaker nodded to Erick.

And Erick said, “It’s probably not Primal Lightning, as far as I know. Probably.”

“… ‘Probably not’, he says.” Verrod sighed. “Either way you’re touched by Melemizargo, that’s for sure. Purodhalia told me to simply let you take the Shield, in honor of our shared loyalties to the Dark—”

The nearby Shades did not like that.

By their reactions, none of the other Shades had known this until Verrod had said it. Instantly, two Shades launched out of their chairs, saying variations of ‘No!’. Others were more devious and angry. Erick saw battle lines draw and alliances spread throughout the entire gathering of around 120 Shades. Some of them were ready to fight. Others would allow themselves to be dominoes that would join the fight as soon as someone else started it.

And then Verrod rose from his beach chair, taking command. He was slightly taller than Erick. “Show us proof that you are as much a Champion of Melemizargo as I am, and I will let you take the Shield without a fight. Fail in this task and be executed.”

Caretaker stepped forward, saying, “Do not do this, Verrod. You do not know what you are asking.”

“I’ve made my decree, Caretaker. Your man is free to choose his Path.”

Caretaker… stepped aside.

Quilatalap was concerned, but not overly. This was all a play, until it wasn’t.

Erick asked, “What kind of proof do you want?”

“The Ritual of Shade. Do it now.”

“Absolutely not,” Erick said, instantly deciding not to play around anymore. “I am walking too many fine lines and I refuse to fall off this knife edge that is my life. Pick another qualification.”

Tension coiled in the air like a dragon waiting to strike. Shades watched from the sidelines. The band was forced to silence. Laughter and conversation stopped. The Abyss filled the air all around, crushing and stifling, and Verrod of Vast Skies glared, sparks flickering across his features.

And then Verrod backed off. He raised his voice. “Our God has given me an order! I have been told to let this man take the Lightning Shield from this place! But we would not be Shades of Greatness if we did not Test those who come forth, walking their fine-edged Paths through Darkness, to see if they are worthy. And so! Three duels. If Erick survives those three fights to the death he walks with his prize. Who will fight him? Who will give him a proper Welcoming into the Dark?”

Three sanctioned duels? As Shades shouted out threats against each other and aired their grievances and Verrod named some initial names, Erick realized he was perfectly fine with this. Quilatalap was perfectly fine with this, too. Even Verrod and a few of the closest Shades could already see how this was going to go, which is why Verrod had chosen this path. Erick would kill some hot head Shades and silence those most opposed to Verrod and thus solidify his rule and prevent a larger bloodbath—

Something Red drifted through the air.

Erick felt his eyes focus on a threat he did not think was a threat.

The red-eyed leviathan which had been wrapped around the base of the bubble protecting the Lightning Shield. It was a threat. It raised its head and looked at Erick, red sparks flickering out of those unnatural eyes as some deep intelligence within also recognized that Erick was going to take the Lightning Shield home unless it did something—

- - - -

Verrod rose from his beach chair, and he was slightly taller than Erick. “Show us proof that you are as much a Champion of Melemizargo as I am, and I will let you take the Shield without a fight. Fail in this task and be executed.”

Erick flinched for some unknown reason, which was absolutely a mistake. Why had he flinched? Why did this… This feel so familiar? That was why he had flinched. All of this seemed familiar. Very… The same. Except not…

And. Ah.

Shit.

It had been a bad time to get a sudden bout of deja vu.

Verrod and every other Shade around were emboldened by Erick’s social fuck up. Erick had lost a lot of social currency in the matter of one crucial moment. Showing any sort of weakness at all in front of the Champion of Melemizargo? That’s an execution.

Caretaker glared at Erick’s back. Outwardly, Quilatalap had to play the part of a Shade, and Erick had just shown weakness, so he could not step in on Erick’s behalf. But inwardly, Erick knew Quilatalap was planning death. Subterfuge and a whole bunch of social reasoning demanded he start with, “What sort of proof do you desire, Verrod?”

A bad answer would lead to war. A good answer would lead to Erick getting the Shield without a massive and potentially deadly fight.

Verrod easily said, “The Ritual of Shade. When your boyfriend is one of us that should be good enough proof of his allegiances. Once that is done he can have the Shield, as ordered by Our Dark God.”

Well that wasn’t fucking happening.

Erick began, “I’m going to say two things, and you’re going to truly consider my words, Verrod, and all the rest of you.” Erick let his voice fill with the severity of the moment, as he said, “The first of my words is this: I absolutely refuse to become a Shade. I am walking too many fine lines and I refuse to fall down this knife edge that is my life. Pick another qualification. The second is this: Someone has [Return]ed us. Or maybe just me; I am not sure. That is what my flinch earlier was. I’m not sure who, or how, but someone [Return]ed in this space… Or something. This moment has happened at least once before.”

Verrod had been about to cut Erick off the very moment Erick ‘pretended to speak like an equal’, or whatever other phrase was passing through the Champion of Melemizargo’s mind. Someone else tried to interrupt when they saw that Verrod decided to let Erick speak, but the Shade of Vast Skies raised his hand at his side, not lifting his hand above his own waist, as he dismissed the interrupter. The interrupter went silent with his objections.

And Erick’s voice rang out across the gathering.

At the mention of [Return], things got complicated. Battle lines redrew as confusion passed through the group. Would they fight each other? Or some Time Mage? Was Erick lying, trying to save his skin? Some donned clothes and armor made of shadows of other powers anyway, preparing for the worst. The people playing in the black waters stepped onto the surface, their eyes going outward. Silence was the primary noise in the air—

“Huh,” Caretaker said. “He’s right.”

Verrod stared at Erick. And then he broke sightlines and looked outward, toward Erick’s falling mushrooms, and then beyond. “… We’re not under attack. It’s a small threat, whatever it is.” He turned and looked at Erick. “Our God has gifted you a Viewpoint beyond mortal ken.”

It was a question, and yet not.

It was enough of a decrease in tension over Erick that the battlelines of the Shades turned outward, instead of inward. Someone was attacking? Well then! Time to close ranks against the outside threat! It was very normal Shade behavior.

Meanwhile, the play between Erick, Verrod, and Caretaker continued.

Erick said, “I have not accepted power from him beyond that which is political.”

“Not surprising. The easiest way for a Cultist to rise to power is to never be an empowered Cultist at all.” Verrod looked to Caretaker. “What are his allegiances, Caretaker?”

“This entire world and all that lay beyond,” Quilatalap said, without reservation. “Peace and Truth.”

Some Shades were absolutely disgusted at that, and if Erick was reading them correctly, they were disappointed that someone with power would choose any path of Peace at all. Truth was more understandable for them.

Erick watched as a few Shades tried to slot Erick into existing Shade society, for this was obviously his debut, and he would be back for more later. Obviously.

Verrod looked at Erick, doing some judging of his own over Erick’s future in this world. And then he looked to Ophiel. “That [Familiar]. Is it Angelic, or merely Exalted?”

“Neither. His form is an affectation for the event.” Erick said, “Let’s see your real form, Ophiel.”

Ophiel glanced at Erick with his two black bird eyes, wondering if he meant what he was saying. Erick nodded. And then Ophiel’s eyes cleared to white, and ten more eyes appeared all across his wing-laden body. He was once again a bundle of mostly-fluffy white feathers, bright, inquisitive eyes, and a few hard-edged wingtip feathers at the end of his mess of limbs.

He chirped, “I’m here, dad!”

“Yes you are, Ophiel.” Erick turned to Verrod. “I’m rather against the Forever War in all ways. Fighting can be good for developing strength, but any real war upon this world would erase too much capability for growth.”

Verrod, the grey-skinned demi on a boat filled with other demis, cracked a real smile. “Yet another good answer—”

Suddenly, the Shield-guarding leviathan smashed into the side of the boat, spilling out a gout of Red Sparks from its eyes and its open maw—

- - - -

Erick fell through the air, high above the Abyssal Lake. Starfall fell around him—

I’ve been here before.

As Erick fell, following Quilatalap to the welcoming platform of the black kendrithyst pier below, Erick knew he had done this before. And yet, he also knew, for a fact, that he had never been here before, ever.

It was the strangest, worst feeling of deja vu that he could recall.

And then he saw the Path.

It was a worldline. His worldline. It went forward from where he was right then at that moment, and trailed behind him where he had been before. Erick had seen worldlines long before today, for mana sensing allowed one to see through time, to see the worldlines of all moving objects within the range and power of one’s mana sense.

But this was a different sort of worldline. Normally, it was incredibly difficult to see into the future at all. Teressa and Goldie could wipe the floor with anyone due to their own prognostication abilities, but they were like sighted people in a world full of the blind. Benevolence could see twists in distant futures, but even those twists didn’t always come to pass because those twists could be unwound if one saw them coming, and people did not always do as [Future Sight] said they would do.

Erick’s white path was different.

There were tiny branches here and there, like lightning striking out and yet not fully hitting somewhere. Erick could step off the path, but he did not want to. He stayed the main course.

Stepping onto the platform and annihilating that first Shade was simply following the path laid before him, which was easy. As he talked the sassy talk, he watched Shades become disinterested in him. He walked down the pier toward Verrod’s ship, like he was acting the part in a play that stretched out before him. If anyone else was capable of seeing his white path worldline then they would have said something because this path was a major imprint in the manasphere and every single real Shade in the area certainly had real power and real experience with magic and mana sense—

Oh.

This was like that time that Erick played with Benevolence prognostication and that plinko machine where if the ball landed in the red zone, he would kill a thousand people. But then Teressa and Aisha had shown up all on their own, telling him not to do that, and thus Erick did not. And then the three of them spoke through a ‘scripted event’, each of them speaking the best possible words to speak at that moment...

Or maybe that’s what happened? Erick was suddenly wondering if that really was what happened back then, because he certainly didn’t remember seeing a white path through the world back then, with all his cues and words picked out for him in the best possible way, but that is what had happened there, and that is what was happening here. Erick knew. Right before his eyes, Erick saw the best possible path forward.

This, then, was what Benevolence could really do.

Erick once again stood before Verrod, and that is where paths diverged. Some were better than others, but Erick had been looking at all of them long before he stood here, so he chose—

Something interrupted the proper path.

Verrod was talking.

And a hot headed Shade to the side saw red and stabbed forward with a pillar of Destruction aimed directly at Erick, while they also tried to wrap a Domain around him to prevent escape. They succeeded in wrapping him in that Domain… Mostly.

If this situation had occurred in the real world Erick would have opened a [Gate] and shunted the Destruction at another target. He didn’t like the way that red-eyed leviathan was staring at him, so Erick would have shoved this Destruction beam at that leviathan; it’d make a better mushroom farm than a guard.

Oddly enough, the Path of Benevolence adjusted itself even as Erick was coming up with ideas of how to escape. As Erick saw the way he wanted out, he also saw the Path that would take him there.

Erick picked the path that killed that leviathan.

… And all the rest, because apparently that’s also an option this new Path was giving him.

It was really quite odd how this new Path was adjusting in real time, as Erick experienced it, but he’d have to take all of that apart later.

Elemental Destruction was unmatched in its ability to annihilate, and this Shade, whoever he was, had cast his meters-thick Beam spell well. But Destruction was also destructive; it was hard to use on its own, and so everyone cheated to be able to use that Element. Most people cheated with a protective layer of some other Element between the caster and the Destruction. This Shade cheated in that exact same way, so nothing special there. Primarily he used Illusion, as evident by both Erick’s All-Seeing Eye, and that the guy’s Domain had flashed outward and fully enveloped Erick. Only Illusion and Light moved that fast, though that was a debate. Anyway. The Shade had layered a thin fog of Destruction inside the tube of his Illusion Domain, ensuring that Erick couldn’t just break the Domain without expending too much time. There was only one way out, and that was directly away.

The Shade had essentially placed Erick at the bottom of a test tube that was filling with annihilation from the bottom toward the top. Going nearer to the Shade would simply make Erick’s death happen faster.

So, in a way that was almost like Erick was on train tracks, and the train was coming right at him, Erick did what he would never do in a normal situation. He ran down the tracks, directly away from the train.

Well. Actually, he turned to Benevolence and outran the Destruction, staying within the tube of the Shade’s Destruction-lined Illusion Domain until he got far enough away to be able to take half a moment and punch through the Destruction and the Shade’s Domain.

Shade Domains were rather damned tough, you know. Erick didn’t want to test himself against the nearest parts of this Shade’s Domain, and it was a good thing he did not. Even with his power, it was still a close call to evade that Destruction Beam.

And now, freed of the assassination attempt, Erick had to prove himself.

So Erick turned to Benevolent Lightning and raced upward, slamming right into every single red-eyed leviathan in the entire sky of the Abyssal Lake before coming back down to land right where he had been, on Verrod’s boat. And then he zapped toward the Shade who had attacked him, making sure his own attack was very telegraphed. Lighting launched from Erick’s hand, toward the Illusion Shade, and that Shade easily stepped to the side, only moving a handspan out of the way.

Erick’s soft white lightning continued on to the red-eyed leviathan around the Lightning Shield, touching black scales and causing the creature distress—

The Illusion Shade watched Erick, while Erick’s lightning continued to course through the air, striking the leviathan, who snarled and raged and launched—

Erick pumped up the power quite a lot. An enraged beast became a very dead beast. The leviathan fell to the water’s surface like so much mushroom-growing meat.

Erick just smiled, and said, “Now! Whoever is turning time back again and again to try and make this meeting of the minds turn out poorly, I would like to announce that I can do a lot worse than that.” Erick turned toward Verrod. “You were saying something about proving myself, or something. Apologies. I was trying to figure out who was fucking with me through Time. If you could, please repeat the question.”

Verrod smirked a little, and it wasn’t meant to be menacing at all. “I was asking you to prove yourself as powerful and worthy of My God’s Eye. I suppose I will accept that nice little display and the physical Eye you wear around your neck as proof enough.” Verrod added, “But I must ask. Is He giving the Shield back to that false goddess?”

“That is the plan. It’s a gesture of goodwill.”

Many of the Shades at the party were disheartened by that, but only a few were furious. The one who tried to Destroy Erick was rather miffed. But he said nothing.

Verrod frowned a little. “I suppose… I suppose we must abide, for we are but instruments of His workings. And yet…” He Looked at Erick, and Erick felt like he was gazing at the Sky Itself for a vast moment. Verrod spoke with authority, “All the gods are false, Wizard of Not-Lightning, especially that Lightning Ghost. For you to give that one power over lightning is odd to me. You would be better served with taking this Shield for yourself. The world would be better served without her grip on Lightning Magic, strangling all Those Who Aspire.”

Erick felt a strange sort of kinship in that moment. He smiled softly, and said, “I fully understand what you are saying, Verrod. Believe me; I know what you mean.”

“… Strangely enough, I feel that you do. And yet...” Verrod’s voice shrunk as his persona and person once again became the size of his physical body, instead of the size of the sky. “And yet, you would still give her back her Shield?”

“I will give her back her Shield,” Erick said, not lying at all.

For a long moment, Verrod said nothing.

By then, the first of the new dead leviathans struck the waters of the lake, like meat striking the ground in wet thumps, splattering out mushrooms and spores all across the surface of the Abyssal Lake. The sky was filled with falling drops of light, and with spreading nebulae.

Verrod lifted his hand and the Lightning Shield broke through its Abyssal Bubble shield and shot to his grip. He handed it to Erick.

Erick took the shield—

Purodhalia spiked his way toward Erick, slowly and securely. In a moment the very large black spiker stood almost over Erick. In the smallest, cutest voice, he asked, “Up! Up! Take me.”

Erick secured the shield on his left wrist with an easy flicker of power —Erick shivered as the Shield seemed to harmonize with him— as he let out his Benevolence to wrap Purodhalia up, along with Quilatalap. With a bunch of Shades looking their way, and with Verrod giving one final nod, Erick benevolencestepped into the air, zapping his small group up and away.

High in the sky above the Abyssal Lake, Erick cast his gaze wide across the city of Ar’Kendrithyst.

The Dead City had always looked rather beautiful, in a dangerous sort of way. Today was no different. The crystals of the city were red and purple and filled with shadows, but they were also bright pink on some edges here and there, and deep blue in some shadowed parts, and the sky bridges always had a certain charm to them.

He liked it better under Anhelia’s reconstruction.

Thunder rolled across the world, almost triumphant in its sound—

- - - -

— And Erick stepped down onto solid stone…

Eh?

For a surreal moment, Erick wasn’t sure where he was. But then he remembered. He looked back behind him. There was the portal to the Shadow Dungeon. Ahead lay the uninhabited city that Quilatalap was building with its many apartment buildings and enough infrastructure to support millions of people, when those millions of people showed up. That city was built up and down, with sky bridges of its own, almost like a building district in a wrought Geode city, like Ar’Kendrithyst…

And Darkness lay beyond everything. There was no sky; there was only Black. They were in the heart of the dungeon, and Erick wasn’t sure how they had gotten here. Where did the line lay between the Shield Breaking, and this place?

Purodhalia had no such concerns for ordered reality. The Black Spiker just rolled away, across the dirt and through a field of golden wheat, straight into the Darkness surrounding the dungeon. He crashed into the Black, and vanished.

“I would normally be worried that Purodhalia had killed himself rushing into the Dark like that, but if anyone can survive the Dark, it is him.” Erick turned toward Quilatalap. “So. Something tells me we weren’t supposed to exit here?”

“No. We were not. Something got switched somewhere…” Quilatalap gazed across the field, at the city. Some people were walking out of the city. Quilatalap frowned deeply, and Erick felt the same way. “What are they doing here?” Quilatalap stepped forward and Erick was right there with him as the big man said, “If they have done something to Vanya and Soltic, then I will be rather angry. I ask for your backup on this, Erick.”

Erick said, “You have it. If you do not mind, though, I would ask to lead this charge.”

“Granted,” Quilatalap said, his anger barely contained. “They should not be here and the fact that they are… If they have done something untoward I will rip them apart and put them back together. Hear me, Erick: There is absolutely no way that they are here through any means but violent ones.”

“… Are you sure?” Erick asked, wanting Quilatalap to be exaggerating.

“I am sure… Though if all they have harmed are my guardians that I can put back together, then I… I can control this anger.”

Erick nodded, relief flowing a little.

Erick strode forward a little faster, to take the lead. The two of them walked down a beaten road between fields of golden wheat, toward one of the few people whom Erick was not sure how to deal with right now.

Tiza Nindi, the owl shifter Head Priestess of Sininindi, walked down the road toward them, looking triumphant in the white raiment of a Storm Priestess. The ‘plan’ had been to hand the Lightning Shield off to her outside the dungeon, in a small ceremony under the cloudy sky. Erick expected Sininindi to appear and for Tiza to be publicly pleasant, but inwardly storming. This, right here, was the opposite of what Erick wanted.

If she wanted the Shield right now then she could go fuck herself.

Tiza wasn’t alone. Two others walked with her.

One on the left was Sailor Asmus, of the Blue Temple, which was located directly on Everbless’ cove. He was a human man with some demi in him for sure, with those red eyes of his. He looked kinda reserved and official, in those blue robes. The man had tried to set himself up to be helpful when Erick was Soltic, and Quilatalap was Vanya, but Erick and Quilatalap had never seen the need to speak to the man for any assistance at all. He was the leader of the ‘mortal’ counterpoint to Sininindi’s Church; the one who people went to for what Erick would consider more logistical problems upon the seas; the problems of sailors, not the problems of priests.

Tiza’s priesthood was the ‘real’ Church of Sininindi. Asmus led ‘boat tours’, according to his detractors.

The third person was Oozy Stormcaller, which was really fucking odd.

Erick hadn’t seen the gangly red-haired man in a while, and here he was, wearing the pale blue robes of a Blue Temple initiate. What was he doing with Sininindi’s logistics church? What was he doing here—

White lightning flickered around Oozy’s neck.

A ring of Benevolence.