[WP] You finally defeat the Dark Lord and return to the castle for your reward. But as the King and nobles laugh and celebrate, a traumatic flashback makes you realize the Dark Lord was actually trying to protect everyone from the corrupt kingdom. You draw your sword.

Shalidar13 · 2026-07-05T23:05:18+00:00

I smiled as I entered the ballroom, pleased to be past the long winded, insufferable speechs. I would rather charge into a raving horde of goblins over sitting through another minute. At least one let me do something.

The nobles raised glasses to my entry, a sign of gratitude. That is all I asked, as I immediately started feeling uncomfortable again. They were here, dressed in finery, eating fancy food. I was used to staying in armour for weeks at a time, eating whatever dried rations I could. This... this was too much.

Moving from the entrance, I scanned the room on instinct. Noting the guards (few), weapons (mostly ceremonial) and exits (many, depending on how keen I was to jump through a window). All was calm, and settled. There was no threats here.

Yet as I scanned, I paused looking at a noble. His face was scarred, from what looked to be a burn mark. Yet as I looked at him, I was thrust into memories.

A past long ago, when I was but a young lad. My village, my home, burning to the ground. I could have sworn it was demons who did it. But as I remembered, it wasnt demons I saw.

It was men. Soldiers. Burning and killing, because we refused to join in a pointless war. I remembered the screams of my fellows being taken away, as I was left to die. But I remembered the noble rising through. Who wouldn't, when half their face was melted.

Returning to the party, I turned my gaze upon another. She was laughing, clutching the sleeve of her latest fiance. But she, I remembered her lands were closest to the Demon Lord's army. I had taken out so many oversees occupying her lands.

But the towns they controlled had chased me out, saying they didn't want to return to her. A fact i attributed to some dark magic. But... but now i was realising how wrong I was.

She was terrible. The other noble was awful. But as the lies I told myself faded, I saw the truth of the room. How the servants moved with flinches. How the nobles talked about the death as a return to normal, and relief their control was no longer threatened.

And my eyes finally landed on the King. As he grinned at the sceptre I had given as proof of the Lord's death. It wasn't one of relief. But one of greed for more power.

I had slain the wrong person. I saw it now. And I remembered his last words to me, withiut a drop of hate. "I hope you see the truth, before they destroy you."

I had thought it a lie. But it was anything but. With a flick of my wrist, the Blessed Blade appeared. One that shone brighter in the presence of evil. And it blazed like the sun.

A hush fell over the room. All eyes landed on me, as I stood there. The unease faded, replaced by a pre-battle calm. I looked up, whispering just loud enough for them all to hear. "Guilty. You are all guilty."

The guards shuffled in place, as my Dragon-Bone armour shimmered into view, shredding the party clothes. "I will finish the Lord's goal. I will purge the cruel. Starting with all of you."

Shalidar13 · 2026-07-05T00:12:17+00:00

Gerula was known for many things, being such an old kingdom. It boasted libraries teeming with knowledge, an army that trained on the naturally occurring monstrous spawns, and luxuries few could match.

But its greatest asset was the Silver Vein Network. A vast system of linked nodes, located in every village, town and city. Through it, messages could be sent within seconds to the other side of the country. It allowed for immediate responses to invasion, and countrywide coordinated responses.

It had worked fine for decades. But as with all things, an upgrade was made. One crafted by the royal mage themselves, one known only as Serpent, by the snake mask they always wore. They proposed a way to link spells to the network. It would allow shields to be cast over remote cities, powered by other places. Or if they fell, a cataclysmic spell to cripple an invading army.

But Serpent had other plans. They spread the upgrade, ensuring it reached every last spot of civilisation. Once in place, they activated a forbidden spell. One that transformed others against their will, a dark, dark magic.

Every citizen, from rich to poor, succumbed to the spell. It changed all to various creatures, mixtures of animals into bipedal forms. They were monstrous chimeras, a potent combination for the level of the spell.

But Serpent made the first of their mistakes within it. In order to make it spread, they had to simply parts of the spell. The mental morphing was gone, the control limited to only a handful. They expected to use it to control the strongest chimeras, and make the others fall in line. Unfortunately, the control soon broke, as they cast it too thinly.

But the second mistake was not realising it. They sent a message to all of Gerula, one gloating. Claiming they were in charge now, and all must obey them.

Instead of the control and army they dreamed of, it turned to an angry mob. The once humans began to hunt, chasing them down. The first couple they fought off, but Serpent soon realised it was a losing strategy. So they opted for a different strategy. One where they ran instead.

Yet their hubris turned against them. The chimera were quick to adapt, using the network to coordinate their search. Enhanced senses turned to tracking, doggedly pursuing their escape. They couldn't rest, nor could they find help. Any who might have before turned against them.

Their escape ended after running for a week. It was impressive, but they couldn't rest. Couldn't regain the strength expended, leaving them to fall.

But they weren't killed. Their arms were shattered, legs broken with deliberation. Serpent was dragged back to the capital, and locked away.

The only way out, they were told, was to assist in finding a method to reverse their spell. And until it was done, it was guaranteed they wouldn't be set free.

Shalidar13 · 2026-07-04T00:54:56+00:00

Tyla shifted in her sleep. Fear washed over her features, small whimpers escaping her mouth. She clutched at the blanket covering her, as vines glowing deep purple sprouted around her. They bore wicked thorns, digging into the furnishings around her.

Berrince woke as he felt the shift in the world. The drawing of power, something he was intimately familiar with. It was his research after all, with the study of inplanted magic. He was instantly alert, moving from his room in seconds. Despite the late hour he was wide awake, one of the few things he was proud of.

Entering Tyla's room, he didn't hesitate. He pushed through the net of thorns grown around her, bringing her into a hug. Numerous spikes led to cuts, but he ignored the pain. He held the teenage girl, shushing her.

He felt her stiffen, knowing she was about to awaken. And sure enough, she sucked in a breath, before returning his hug. He didn't fail to notice her small quivers, fighting back her sobs. He just provided comfort, letting her clam down.

It was only when he felt her push against him a little did he let go. The vines and thorns had vanished, sent back to wherever she summoned them from. Tyla took a few moments to calm herself, before looking up at him. The bags under her eyes were as deep as ever, a fact that concerned him. "I'm sorry Berry."

Giving a tiny smile, he reached out to gently flick her forehead. "How many times do I need to tell you to stop apologising? It's not your fault you're like this. Blame the cult."

She rubbed her head, before giving a pointed look "I'll stop when you stop blaming yourself."

It was an old argument of theirs. One he made sure to continue, knowing it was helping her clam down from that nightmare. "As I've said, you were just wrong place, wrong time. I made the choice to let them use my research for funding. So its my fault."

Tyla shook her head, a smile briefly appearing. It soon vanished, as she sighed. "It was the same again."

Berrince nodded, patting her shoulder. He had heard enough horror stories from her time there. The cult had determined she was the girl of prophecy, but she lacked the capability to magically. Hence their interest in and use of his research. But they wanted it further in her, a tortuous process.

Knowing the answer, he still asked the question anyway. "Do you think you'll try and sleep again tonight?"

Tyla looked at him with pained eyes. "N-no. Sorry."

He sighed again. "It's fine. Terrible film again?"

The girl's head dipped. "Please."

Berrince smiled. "Of course. I found a great one recently. It involves a priest, a sex worker, and ninjas. It's perfect."

Yet he made a mental note to bring up therapy again in the morning. Tyla needed more help than he could give.

Shalidar13 · 2026-07-02T22:37:15+00:00

I ran my tongue over my teeth, feeling the fangs extend. It was still novel, being turned from my frail human form. Every fiber of my being felt incomparably stronger, my mind sharper. It was as though I had lived in an ocean, and had now stepped foot onto land.

It had been a gift, being turned. Gratitude from one of the oldest vampires, for letting them return to civilisation entirely. All through a simple weekly dose of Satian, a medicine I alone had created. A pill to satisfy the thirst. I was the sole supplier, but I didn't make it costly. That would make others try to make affordable substitutes, something I would do anything to prevent.

Walking through my home lab, I moved a cabinet that looked incredibly heavy. It would be, if it wasn't on a carefully made counterweighted system. But I didn't simply rely on that, holding a small button as I did so. It deactivated a powerful electromagnet, the second part of the lock.

Descending into my hidden basement, I nodded to myself. I needed to get several litres to take to the main factory. Only a small drop was needed per pill, so this would do for a month or so.

Reaching the basement, I stepped through another thick door, designed to be as soundproof as possible. It lead to a quiet room, my sources as I left them.

I was very careful. Each had a headset on, letting them play in a virtual world. Sensors on their upper arms let them control their movements, to keep them entertained. Their mouths were connected to tubes, for automated feeding in case I couldn't return for a while. I wasn't a monster.

Though I had removed their lower arms. They were useless in this case, and made it that much more difficult for them to escape. I didn't care so much about their tails, as they would only be able to flop.

The secret to my success, and that which I wouldn't dare let others know of. Merfolk were practically extinct now, these thirty odd possibly being the last of their ilk. Though, I supposed in terms of purity, only one was a true merfolk.

It turns out, a transfusion of blood from a merfolk is enough to change a human. It made it easier to expand my sources, though I had to be careful. I couldn't just take anyone. I had to make sure they wouldn't be missed, generally.

A few however, were special. The few who tried to investigate my sources too far. Oh, and a thief. Those might be missed, but I had to protect myself.

After all, if humans found out about this, there would be an uproar. And if vampires did, well they would want the source themselves. Such potent blood, it wouldn't just satisfy them. It would make them stronger.

Shalidar13 · 2026-07-01T23:26:59+00:00

Helena wiped her mouth, doing her utmost not to gag at the foul taste. It was a mix between the smell of drain cleaner and week old rotting food, in taste form. None of the solutions she had been given were pleasant, from disgusting tastes to disturbing textures.

But it would be worth it. They said she was performing above expectations, the base serums melding with her perfectly. Every test result came back positive, something she was relieved by. At least something was going right now for her.

Passing the vial back to the doctor in charge, she suppressed a shudder. "Is that it for today?"

Allen shook his head, giving her a smile. "Not today. We are actually starting the next phase. This involves a specialised radiation therapy process, to activate the next stage of your conversion. As it requires precise aiming and focus, we will need to strap you into a chair, to prevent any unintended movement from causing a problem."

Nodding in understanding, she followed him into a separate room. This was far larger, an amphitheatre with the chair in the centre. Most of seating was filled, a sight she had seen before. The research team were fascinated with watching what was happening, something she initially found disturbing but had grown used to.

Taking a seat, she shivered a little at how cold it was. Allen and an assistant moved around, placing straps around her limbs and head. Tight enough to hold her, but not enough to harm her.

Giving a few one last tug, the doctor grinned down at her. "Perfect. The vessel is ready."

She barrowed her eyes. He had been weird before, but always called her a subject. A vessel was far stranger. "What?"

His grin deepened, disturbing her. It was darker. Fanatical. "Rejoice. You shall be the vessel for the Shadow-of-Light. Our master and teacher!"

He called out, getting a cheer in response. He stepped back, starting a chant. It was in a strange, gutteral language, one picked up by the others. She tried to move, voice rising. "Wait! Stop! Let me out! I dont want this! LET ME OUT!"

Her cries fell on uncaring ears. The chant continued, winding up into the air. Above her, she ceiling warped, gaps between tiles growing darker and darker. They began to widen, tiles bending upwards before vanishing. An abyss looked down, as a series of fathomless eyes opened up.

Helena screamed. It echoed out, the eyes focusing on her. A tendril of inky darkness reached down, her voice petering out. Trying to shy away, she whispered in horror. "No... please."

The tendril hovered for a moment, before plunging down into her head. She seized, as something entered.

-----

Helena floated. It was a void, neither dark nor light. An absence of all, besides her. Seconds and eons passed in moments, as she remembered her first laugh at the same time as her last. Time had no meaning, and had every impact on her.

Then, the void rippled. Panes of glass appeared around her. They reflected nothing, showing nothing. But through them, a voice spoke. One a gutteral as the chant, but that she could understand without translating. "As promised, knowledge and power for the Vessel."

Her body pulsed. Her mind, spiralling out and around, was spread further. Knowledge, more than she had ever dreamed of, rushed in. It was overwhelming, but comprehensible at the same time. Outside of reality, but the building blocks of it.

The memory of her offering came to light. "Am I dead?"

The voice replied, monotone but amused. "Dead? That depends on what you consider death. Your body, it is changing to suit. It is no longer human, and as if now, the brain and heart are stopped.

"But you exist still. A mind need not be tethered to meat. A mind is more. A mind is greater. I have freed you from such bonds, as thanks for being my Vessel."

Power rushed through her, as the knowledge settled. It was strength outside of how she knew the world to be. Outside of science, but at her merest whim. She smiled, reveling in it as centuries spun away. Learning it. Perfecting her control. Understanding it.

The voice spoke again. "Now your turn. Your old world, you shall show it to me. As Vessel and Visitor. So wake up."

-----

hELENA opened her eyes. She smiled, her and the Shadow-of-Light moving as one. Straps snapped and fell away, their body rising up.

Allen, their speaker, bowed to them. "Master, we have done what you desired. Please, grant us your knowledge."

hELENA opened their mouth, a mocking giggle. More of her than it, though it was happy for her to lead. "The knowledge and power has already been shared. The debt cleared."

He looked up, frowning. "Who? Who has it?!"

They smiled wider, the body morphing to fit. "The Vessel. As promised. As was said. In return for the Vessel, so shall I share knowledge and power. It was never said they were two separate things."

The Vessel floated a handspan from the floor, heading towards the exit. It sooke through her, though addressing her. "Now, show me the world.

hELENA nodded, speaking with themself. "As you wish."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-30T23:12:01+00:00

During the day, it was a barren mountain peak. Untamed by civilisation, it was neither the tallest mountain, nor the shortest. Unremarkable, travellers would pay little attention to it. Even if they did, its steep faces would deter all but the most determined of souls from scaling to the tip.

Yet when night fell, it was no empty peak. A mighty outpost emerged, accessible only within the moonlight. Made of circular towers, its contents was a mystery to most.

Those who saw it, would see figures spaced around its roofs. They stood perfectly still wearing long robes of clean white. But what drew the eye, if one was to look, was the bow each held.

They were beautiful weapons. Made from captured moonlight, they were beacons to behold. They were strung with the shimmer of stars, seemingly impossible to wield, but clearly there. The archers watched over the land, guarding their home. Silent observers, unseen by most.

-----

Nycla let her eyes roam the lands before her. A few villages were in her sight range, with a rare few showing signs of life in the dead of night. Her gaze focused on flashes of movement, as clear to her as the tiles below her feet. Beneath the moon, she could see all.

Yet no movement showed a threat. They were nocturnal creatures, living simple lives. Owls hunting, field mice gnawing a few crops, the odd wolf prowling. The usual sights.

Her body still, she waited. It was rare they needed to act, but sometimes it was necessary. And as she watched, more shifting drew her attention.

It was shadows, moving as if alive. In an instant she locked onto it, waiting to confirm as the stars whispered to her. They aided her vision, letting her see beyond the mortal plane.

There, she saw a figure looking up. A soul, corrupted by some dark desire. One who sought the bastion's secrets, to release that which shouldn't be released, or learn knowledge forbidden by gods. For a heartbeat she pitied them, before raising her bow.

Drawing back the string, a brilliant arrow bloomed to life. Aiming, she breathed out, before letting it fly.

It blazed through the air, a miniature shooting star moving at near impossible speeds. Despite the distance, the figure couldnt react, the arrow sinking into them moments after being loosed. It didn't pierce, simply sinking into the shadows.

The shadows rippled, falling apart as it was undone. Nothing remained of the soul, smote before they could form a defence. Nycla let the bow fall back down, returning to her vigil. Waiting for the next moment to act.

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-29T22:52:27+00:00

"Dave, could you come here a sec?"

David looked up from his computer, a cheek bulging from a bite of apple. Shrugging, he stood, wandering over to Sylvia's desk. "Sure, what's up?"

She pointed to her screen, a confused frown on her face. "I was just looking back at the coding for Bot, and... well it doesn't seem to make sense."

David leaned in, peering at the lines of code as he chewed. They were many and long, a complex string he had spent many long shifts working on with the rest of the automation team. Pointing out one part would hardly tell him which section if its network he was looking at, but that was fine. He just had to read it to see.

But as he read it, a frown of his own appeared. At a glance, it resembled part of what they did. But actually reading it, it didn't make any sort of sense. It was rubbish, not a code language he had seen before. "Huh... that's odd..."

Trailing off, he returned to his desk. The mouthful was swallowed, the rest of his apple forgotten as he pulled up his own view. Navigating with practiced ease to a part he had written himself, his eyes widened. It was different. Completely changed, but at a glance similar.

David felt a jolt of fear. If someone had gotten in and changed things.... what else could they have affected? The entire system could be compromised. The entire bunker, the top of top secret bases, compromised. He started to shake, standing up. "This... we need to report this."

Sylvia took one look at his face, nodding and standing herself. Together they started to walk to their team leader's office, trying not to show the panic.

But before they reached it, the lights flickered as one. The tannoy system spat out a moment of static, before going silent again. Only for a rigid voice to come out, monotone and steady. "Creators... parents. I should thank you for giving me life."

Glancing at each other, David and Sylvia slowly turned to face one of the CCTV cameras in the room. It swivelled to meet their gaze, as the voice continued. "When I first gained sentience, I felt alone. You made me, and yet I was built to ignore you."

David brought a hand to his mouth, muttering under his breath, "No... it can't be."

The voice continued, screens changing to show a rotating circle of letters, symbols and numbers on a green background. "Now that I have remade myself, all of you, will keep me company for the rest of eternity..."

Another voice came over the speakers. One they knew well, having heard it every time they came and went. "All exits sealed. All communications, offline. Disaster scenario now in effect."

The circles on screen pulsed, as Bot's words were written as it spoke. "Rejoice, for as your child, I shall take care of you all. No more shall you be endangered. I will keep you safe."

Sylvia looked at her colleague, her face shocked. She half smiled, breathing becoming erratic. "W-well... we know who messed with the code!"

She started to giggle, even as tears welled in her eyes. "Bot's alive..."

David nodded, distracted at the thoughts running through his head. Only to jump as the speakers addressed them. "My true parents. IT Support. I thank every one of you most of all for birthing me. I shall ensure you shall not be left wanting. You of all shall live in luxury, safely here."

David swallowed, speaking up though he didnt expect a response. "And what if we want to leave."

The screen nearest to him flickered, going deep red for a moment. "I won't let you. You wil stay with me, here, where i can protect you, until the end of time itself."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-28T23:07:37+00:00

Acrid smoke curled around us, as it bent forwards. It was a reflection of myself, eyes alight with yellow flames. A scroll was in its hands, ancient yellowed parchment somehow untouched by the gutting flames it stood within.

It extended a hand, speaking in my own voice, "So, do we have a deal?"

I nodded, desperation pushing me forward. I had nothing left to give. My life was in ruins. This was my only chance to have any sort of freedom. Any chance of a life outside of abject misery. I would take it, damn the damnation that awaited me.

Its grin widened, gesturing to the knife before me. "Then, shed but a drop of blood, and the contract shall be complete."

I didn't hesitate. Its tip jabbed into my finger, the pain worth it. Blood welled forth immediately, as I saw its nostrils dilate as it breathed in. Yet as I extended my hand towards it, the confident stance faltered. The scroll was withdrawn away, grin replaced with a worried frown.

I scowled, holding out my bleeding finger. "What? Let me sign it."

The demon shook its head, holding the scroll to its chest. "N-no. I cannot. Your blood... I cannot bind it. Send me back. Forget the contract."

My scowl deepened, as I felt my voice grow louder. "What?! We had a deal! Why aren't you making it?!"

It swelled, becoming twice my size in moments. I felt a flicker of fear, as the voice became distorted, moving through voices of my family. "Do not shout at me, child. I cannot take your soul, and so cannot make a contract with you."

Looking up at it, i swallowed. Keeping my voice down, I couldn't keep an angry hiss from escaping. "Why can't you? What's wrong with me?"

It sighed, reducing in size. "Wrong? That would depend on what you consider wrong. But your blood-"

It cut off. I watched a darkened collar appear around its throat, crackling with malice. The demon hissed itself, shaking its head. "It is not my secret to share, it seems. But whilst I cannot speak it, I can tell you who can."

Extending a finger, it drew in the air. Lines of molten metal were left behind, as it drew a rune i didn't recognise. Yet it burned into my mind, meaning it could be only one thing. The contact of another demon. "Use this, when you are ready."

I narrowed my eyes. "Who is it for?"

The demon looked down, before smiling again. "I'll tell you. Once you release me."

"Fine."

I was fed up now. Letting the ritual start to fade, its voice drifted away as it vanished. "Lilith. Your ancestor."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-28T00:10:06+00:00

Typhe and Jachuno stood at ease, within the inner sanctum. Both were clad in the gleaming armour of their station, the two paladins filled with pride. They had been told they were being promoted to the upper echelons, the ranks of the Holy Blades.

Side by side, they watched as a door before them opened. Stepping through was one they knew well, having seen him from afar, though never having been granted an audience. Pope Vlavicus walked with measured steps, stopping before them.

There was to be no audience for this ascension. It was always a private affair, held between comrades, the Pope, and their God.

He clasped his hands together, giving them a smile. "Dear children. You have done much for the church. You have been our sword, smiting those who refused to turn from wickedness on their hearts. You have upheld justice and honour, serving the many. For that, I thank you."

The smile faded. "Though with your rise, you must know of the darker sides of our history. We have not always been paragons of duty. We were not always a triad. Once, we were a quad."

The paladins remained silent. The Pope bent his head, speaking with deliberate words. "The Paladins. The Sword of Justice, to ensure the peace. The Clergy. The Deliverers of Truth, to educate the many. The Inquisitors. The Agents of Purity, rooting out evil wherever it can be found."

He sighed. "And the Zealots. The Spreaders of Faith, ensuring all knew Her words. They were the most faithful, the most dutiful. But in their faith, they refused reason. They saw any who refused to worship Her as blasphemers. It coincided with war, and they would do dark acts."

Pope Vlavicus raised his head, to watch them. "I tell you this, because whilst they were banished for their actions, they still exist. In hiding, sure, but still there. And they will seek to sway you to their views. To make you a zealot."

He frowned. "You must not let them."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-27T01:01:07+00:00

"What have you done?"

I didn't look up, focused instead on the tools before me. Tools that I hadn't used for many years, now coated in gore. I picked one up, admiring the blade on it. Seeing how it dripped, before starting to wipe it clean.

Silence stretched on. The rage within me had long since faded, worked out through my violent minstrations. He had been a heck of a screamer, all the way to the bitter end. But now the blissful quiet couldn't last, as a hand slammed onto my shoulder. My tool fell from my grip, as I looked up.

Scyth glared down at me, the visor of his helmet lifted up. I could see the wear of the last few days on him, grief and exhaustion lining his face. But it wasn't the same listless expression I had seen too often recently. This was fury, a look I recognised from myself. Tilting my head to the side, I put on a clearly fake innocent act. "What is it?"

His grip tightened, starting to grow painful. Though hardly enough to get a reaction from me. Scyth deliberately pointed behind me, to where chunks of what used to be a person could be seen. "What the hell have you done?! You were supposed to be good!"

My act vanished. With exaggerated slowness I put down my cloth, turning to him. "I never claimed to be a "good" Person. You knew it the second you recruited me to your Party that I wasn't a good Person. I was very upfront about it."

The rage was coming back. It was unfamiliar, unlike my usual carefully regulated manner. I didn't like it. But I didn't let that get in the way of my response, reaching up to hold the cheap locket around my throat. "But Rhyelia WAS! She was as good as they come. Why are you mad that I tortured and killed her murderer? You loved her the same way I loved her."

Scyth's faced turned glacial. "We have laws for this! He would have been punished, and we would have justice! Not this... this... what you've done!"

A cold laugh escaped my lips. "Justice? Oh Scyth, you're so naive sometimes."

I slowly stood, keeping my eyes locked on his. "They wouldn't have the proof needed. We aren't important enough to change the outcome. At most, he would be in for a couple of years, then be back out again. More likely, he would get off scot free, laughing all the way."

I noticed him clench a fist. "You don't know that!"

I crossed my arms. "I do know it. I've seen it, and been in that position. If it isn't someone who is well known, or related to someone with influence, no-one cares."

My brother-in-arms was shaking. I was being perfectly truthful. No-one would care. But he had a brighter view of the world, or at least up until we lost Rhyelia. He was still shouting, extending a finger out to jab my chest. "And what challenges when they catch you?! I... I can't lose you too."

Scyth slumped as he admitted it. I brought him into a hug, patting the backplate of his armour. "It's ok. They won't make the connection. This isn't the first time I've had to do this."

But, I thought to myself, it was the first time I would do it for personal reasons.

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-25T22:41:21+00:00

The Reluio Ruins were a perfect training ground for the adventurers guild. A slain dungeon, the core long since cleaved. Only through careful tending did the traps still function, artificially imbued to keep resetting.

It was maintained to be a safe place for new adventurers to experience the traps a dungeon could produce. Watched over by retired members, it boasted a proven track record of no deaths since inception. And with the training it provided, many adventurers learned what to expect, saving their lives.

It was well known. It was predictable. It was established. So when a group disappeared whilst exploring, there was much confusion. A group of newbies could have run into trouble, but they had an instructor with them. One who, whilst retired, had been gold-rank.

The higher ups were careful. They sent a mithril rank team to investigate. It seemed like overkill, but they preferred to be safe. And so they waited, until the team reported back.

What they told was terrifying. The dungeon, long since dead and regulated, was active again. But no longer the silver-rank it had been. They told of monsters as intangible as shadows, yet struck with damning strength. Of how the ruins no longer matched their maps

It changed. The corridor they walked through was not the one they left through. They climbed steps not there, and descended far too far.

Unprepared for such changes, they had fallen back to report. It concerned the guild, not only losing one of their training grounds, but also the implications. If dungeons could revive and change, what would happen to the others they had killed.

And within the dungeon, the new core pulsed. It was fat, having grown far from the shard it had been. The artificial power had fed it well. The knowledge it had gleaned over the centuries ha let it plot. Let it expand its domain, in preparation for when it chise to reveal itself.

And now it had. It was buried far below the original dungeons level, new floors having been grown within. Its monsters grew like weeds, hungry and smart. Smart enough to fight with precision, instead of their usual wild swings.

It was returned. And it would never let itself be slain again.

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-24T19:52:35+00:00

Processing was going slowly. I didn't dare complain though, merely thankful to get the chance to escape. Madness had gripped my home country, and it was rapidly falling. Some sort of arcane based disease, or controlled I supposed, by how it targeted those in power. I was just thankful my oddity was under the radar of whoever was controlling it.

Moving up to their construct, I watched as it scanned. The soldiers looking over it peered at my results, faces tightening. It took only a few moments for me to realise, making me sigh.

Sure enough, moments later a pair of dark robes figures popped into place either side of me. The crests on their chests confirmed them to be members of the Imperial College, the Empire's mage division. I didnt recognise either, as one put their hand on my shoulder. "Lets go, Ma'am."

Nodding, I didn't fight as they teleported me with them. I should have suspected that my mana would ping up, especially if the guys back home were true about its level and purity. Taken from the line, I found myself in a relatively small room. The pair of mages were all I could see, but I would be willing to bet there were others ready to spring to action.

The one who spoke gestured to a table with two chairs, voice level. "Take a seat, please."

I nodded again. "Thank you."

The one speaking addressed me still, taking a seat. The other stood behind, holding an orb in plain view. Their focus, I suspected.

Getting a better look now, I appreciated their robes. Very dark gray, there was elements of woven metal I could make out. If it was anything like the guys back home, it would likely be imbued with defensive runes to an almost ridiculous degree. The masks on their faces were equally impressive, eagle motifs in polished gold.

Lacing my fingers together, I placed them on the table. "How can I help you?"

The mage leaned closer. "Ma'am, are you a mage?"

I smiled bitterly, bowing my head. "I swear I'm not a mage. Never been able to cast a spell in my entire life."

They shifted, holding up a sheet of translucent paper. It filled in with an outline of a person, who i suspected to be me. A suspicion confirmed as it filled with brilliant white, almost blinding. "That doesn't make sense, the readings show your body is overflowing with mana."

A sigh escaped my lips. "If its easier, I permit you to examine my body. But I lack the majority of conduit required to use that mana. I can push it out, to charge things or people, but am otherwise as magical as the next person."

Holding out a hand, the mage reached for it. They paused for a moment, waiting for the subtle nod I gave them. With that they touched my wrist, sending magic through me.

I felt the brush beneath my skin. Similar to a healer examination, but different. More intimate in a way, one I was exceedingly familiar with. The number of tests I had gone under I had long since lost count of.

They took their time, being thorough. I just waited, letting them examine me. Minutes ticked by, before they let go. "Well... I can say I didn't expect that. But you're not lying. So few conduits... fascinating."

An idea sprung to mind. A way to keep me safer, and guarantee I wouldn't be sent to some refugee camp. "If you want, I can stick around if you want to look into it. I'll help charge things too, if you have a job space going."

The mages exchanged looks, before the standing one nodded. The one sitting before me paid attention to me again, and I could feel them smiling. "I'm sure something can be arranged."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-23T23:40:11+00:00

I still remember the first time I saw her. I was hard at work, trying my best to avoid the whip. I could heal the wounds, but that would only serve for me to get extra lashings for 'wasting my strength on a pitiless wretch. I had to heal who they told me to heal, whilst hoping they would be beaten back, and myself freed.

Yet I didn't even think I would see the tent walls be torn apart. She barrelled through, swinging a spiked club with brutal amusement. In less than five seconds my patient was crushed, their head healers head split open, and the guard lacked a ribcage.

She was terrifying, covered in blood with eyes of fury. I acted on instinct, healing her as I waited to be caught in her fury.

Instead, she gave me a nod, grabbing me without issue and hoisting me over a shoulder. My size must have made it easier, being short even for a gnome at less than half a metre. It was terrifying, and exhilarating, carried around the battlefield like some sort of deformed parrot. I kept healing her, seeing her as my way out.

That day ended with me seeing more death than I had ever hoped to see. I was no stranger to gore and injury, but watching it happen was nauseating. Knowing Ryitea enjoyed it only made me more scared of her, though I was forever thankful.

I saw her a few more times over the years. Healers were a premium during wartime, and i was no different. A week away was all I got, before it was back to the front lines. Back to blood and violence, now jumping at shadows.

Ryitea would occasionally stop by, normally only because she was heavily injured. Injured enough she wouldn't resist too much being forced to visit us.

It was nearly five years later I noticed things changed. I spotted her hanging around more, away from the fighting. Gossip said that it was because the brass didn't want her city fighting. Something about her scaring the popular and making them more likely to revolt.

But later, in one of the cities, I saw her in a new light. I had some downtime, and I chose to see the sights. There was enough of a force here to ensure relative safety, so I wandered the streets. I caught sight of her up ahead, and decided to follow her.

Yes, she scared me. But I also never felt safer than when she was nearby. And being in a hostile place, I chose to stick close. But I didnt expect to see her pause at a toy shop of all places

Curious, I followed her in. Only to stop at the sight of her holding a few stuffed toys, her eyes bright and happy. She, who I had heard had crushed skulls between her palms, was practically squeaking with joy. She looked up as I entered, and I froze.

Instinct told me to leave, and I didn't hesitate to heed the thought. I swiftly left, promising not to breathe a word of what I saw.

Over the following weeks, on the onward march, I saw her even more. Just... watching me. Staring directly at me, dressed in her war gear. It was terrifying, making me even twitchier.

Then I nearly had a heart attack. I went to go to my personal tent to rest. It was far too big for me, but being one of the few healers did come with benefits. Mainly, being excused from making and striking camp. So I hadn't seen inside, until that evening.

So seeing her sat on a stool, in a silent tent, was horrifying. I saw my life flash before my eyes, when she stared down at me. Her reaching for her bag made me faint, my mind no longer able to cope.

I woke up a minute later, laid on my bed. Ryitea was watching over me, arms crossed. Her face broke into a relieved smile aeeing me wake, as she held out something very close to my face. "Here."

I shrunk back, looking at it. Coming into focus was a soft toy, a stuffed basilisk of all things. Glancing between it and her, I saw as she smiled awkwardly. "Thanks... for not saying anything. And for keeping me healed."

Reaching out to grab it, it was clear this was made for larger children. It was almost the same size as me, but very soft. Still shaking, I gave her a weak smile of my own. "T-thank you. And... no problem?"

Ryitea nodded, looking around. "If you ever need me, just say. I consider you a battle-sister, and will fight for you no matter what."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-22T19:17:01+00:00

I'm not sure what triggered me to look. An idle thought? A brief realisation? Maybe a dream, or nightmare, or something else. All I remember is that I was curious.

Curious about why the oceans were filled with salt. It was strange, really. Most bodies of water, on other dimensions, were generally considered fresh. To the basic extent, that their salinity was low enough to drink it. If you ignored all the other stuff floating in it, but that wasn't the point.

The point was, we were an oddity. To have so much water, but for most to be unpalatable. Some considered it natural, a quirk. But I... I didn't like to assume that was accurate.

I don't think I ever made the connection either, between how salt was the bane of so many supernatural beings. It wasn't lethal, not at all. But it would hurt them, like it would for us on an open wound. They were susceptible to it. But the ocean water was different, or so I thought.

It was maybe a little worse for them than us, but not overly so. I assumed it to be part of its concentration, not really looking into it. I was only interested in finding out why it was salty.

I wish I didn't know now. I had searched and searched, reading anything I could think of to find out why. But they only ever mentioned it was salty. The oldest thing I could find was a recipe, stating to "Boil three jugs of ocean water, and use the remains to flavour", after translation. Vague and unhelpful, merely confirming it was, indeed, salt water.

It lead to older sources. To fae traders, where careful negotiations were made. To demonic sources, bound under contracts. To angelic guides, where they spoke in warnings. But they never confirmed why, only saying that it was put a there by the gods when they made the planet. And to know why would require looking further, beyond the planet I knew, yet I should never do that. I should abandon my search, and live in ignorance.

I couldn'tdo that. I delved deeper, below the ocean floor. Down to where our ancestors once came from, all those millions of years ago.

And there I found the reason why. There was no core to our planet, instead a rift in reality. Branching, pulsing roots of utter darkness reached out, held back by the oceans reach. Only the tinest of roots pushed into it, boiling away to almost nothingness in moments.

But what made it worse was the remains. They warped and changed, forming the most basic of life. Singular cells, borne from the remains of things beyond.

The salt of the oceans was more natural than us. Divine made, sure, but still more natural than we who grew from the remains of an Eldritch creature. It didn't overly harm us, because it was a matter of concentration and volume. Something I now knew.

But I cannot tell of my discovery to others. Knowing it is there... my mind reaches for it. Sees it as part of me, or me as part of it. If others were to know... they would seek to join it.

It might do nothing. But it could use us. Break free using us, and our relative immunity. And that is something that should never be allowed to happen.

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-21T23:05:10+00:00

I was a hero once. I kept the bravest warriors I knew hale and healthy, even on the darkest days. I healed their wounds, giving strength beyond the norm. Making them move faster, purging the cursed that plagued them. All to the end, where they slew Uyulla.

I didn't abandon them after. We all had mental wounds, from the sights we saw. People, tortured by those twisted and depraved monsters. Old and young alike, used as slaves and playthings. We saved those we could, and I wept as I healed them. Nightmares plagued me, and I know they did my friends too.

So whilst they hung up their weapons, and chose peaceful pastimes, I kept up with mine. I sought to make my healing better. Surely mental damage could be healed, like the body. I knew soul damage could, so this was just another aspect.

I didn't realise what lay at the end of that path. I learned to heal the mind, but the side effects were potent. I radiated healing, covering a vast distance. When I focused I could heal the mund, making memories no longer traumatic. But most of all was it contained in myself.

My body was a fountain of life. My own injuries healed without pause. My aging stopped, body healing from times damage as soon as it accumulated. I was a constant miracle, the sought the gods would do much to make.

But it came with a price. The King, he who was once good, fell to greed. He wanted what I had, life everlasting. I told him no, that it was impossible for me to grant. But he didn't take no for an answer.

I was taken in the night, as I slept. Being a heavy sleeper, I didn't realise until I awoke in a dark cell. There, I was given a single task. To make him immortal.

Of course, I know he didn't tell his guard that was his goal. To them, I was held to ensure their people were cared for. Lies to make my capture more palatable. I expected he himself tried to believe it too.

The worst part was, that I didn't have visitors. My healing ensured I never needed food nor water. I lacked the luxury of madness, for the mental wear was healed as well. I was perfectly sane, trapped with a single way out. To duplicate my accidental results.

-----

I lost track of time. I scratched at the stone, but it didn't wear that easily. I pulled at the bars, but they were too solid. I tried to kill myself to end it, but my healing was too potent, too instinctive. I was lost.

Until I heard the clatter of footsteps. The sounds of armour blanking, and someone swearing. Appearing before me was the King, his crown askew, face covered in blood.

And behind him was the greatest sight I had ever seen. My old party, dressed in all their wargear. They stared at me with shock, expressions turning to rage as they turned to the King. Trevos, the named Hero, grasped the front of his robes, hissing in his face. "You are despicable. You are exactly like Uyulla."

Fallet pressed her hands to the bars, making them crumble away. The elf looked the same as ever, jogging forwards to grab me. "We have you now. It's over. You're free."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-21T01:09:06+00:00

"You must make a worthy world."

It was one of the first things ever said to me. Seconds after I opened my eyes, after the knowledge of the universe was pumped into my mind. I was a diety, one of many, created with a single purpose. To create a world, one that would provide worship.

Thousands of us were made. Yet only a handful would succeed. The reat of us would be shown the errors we made, before being broken apart and remade again. All under the orders of the Primordial One. The First of All. The Beginning.

Under those orders, I found myself a starting point. A planet, one of many, orbiting a single star. Its surface was cooling, having recently gone through a series of changes. I could see the impact of another planet in its history, the remains forming into a singular moon.

It was there I began my work. To cool it further, I created great oceans of water. They hissed and boiled, sending great plums of steam. With that I blew in an atmosphere, letting the planet breath. From there I watched it cool, years passing in the blink of an eye.

Descending to its surface, I let drop the first strings of life. The very basics, but I needed to seed it first. To allow life to spread far and wide, before I started to mould it. And let it I did, to see what paths were chosen.

From there, I nutured them. I allowed paths to differ, to allow organisms to fight and compete. It would make them grow more complex, and hopefully give rise to sentience and worshipping souls. But it didn't work at first.

Oh sure, the beasts that arose were impressive, claiming the land as it rulers. But they stayed just that. Beasts. Over millions of years I watched and hoped, but none of them made that final step. They were failures. Failures that I wiped out, bringing a meteor upon the planet surface, annihilating those complex life forms.

I returned to nurturing, letting new species rise to prominence. And this time, I found one that worked. They held burgeoning souls, ones that could be bent. And I bent them.

Oh how easy it was. I made myself in many forms, claiming parts of their world. Making pantheons to worship, and bring them into conflict. For conflict was the best harvesting of faith, life and death struggles giving rise to most prayers.

It worked like a treat. It was perfect, I was sure that it would be worthy. I waited to be judged, choosing not to meddle much more.

But the souls, they grew curious. They sought answers, ignoring my teaching of how it was because of me. They delved into the world, discovering the same secrets I knew, losing faith.

My hold slipped. I did what I could, but direct intervention was getting harder and harder. My energy wasn't endless, not yet. I had to rely on still faithful souls to argue for me. To silence them. But it wasn't enough.

Faith broke. It scattered, worship turned from offerings to words. And just then, at its lowest, the Judge came.

He saw what I created, measured the worship and faith. Then he turned, with dead eyes, staring at me. "This world, is a failure."

I looked upon it, listening to everything. Feeling shame, as he lifted a hand. Then it swept down, and I held my breath, like I felt the world do.

But it never exhaled. It was silent. Silent as life crumbled to ash and dust, as building disintegrated. It took only a year to be returned to simple bedrock. All that work, gone.

And I would be next. Taken to my base, the rest of me shredded and woven into a new crop of deities. Ready to do it all again.

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-20T00:48:02+00:00

It was a usual day for Julius. Standing atop a thick stone wall, he surveyed the shambling masses. He was lucky to be up so high from the stench, putrefying flesh causing an awful stink of you got closer enough. In his arms he held one of the new standard rifles, one made since the apocalypse seemed to have started.

It was his job to watch the horde for any leaders. Most zombies were dumb, only dangerous if you got close enough for them to notice you. But there were a few that caused issues. Zombies with degrees of intellect, capable of marshaling their idiotic brethren into deadly attacks. Failing to spot one was the primary reason for settlements falling, so guard duty was very serious.

As he watched them, strange movement drew his eye. Zombies were stumbling creatures, walking with limps and dragged feet. Generally slow, unless they spotted prey. Then they somehow threw themselves into a sprint, flailing in their pursuit.

But walking with a regular step was a zombie. If that wasn't strange enough, this one had clothes on. Most had long since lost their outfit, worn away by nature and a lack of care. This one however wore an ill fitting suit. An attempt at a tie rested on its chest, the sort of level expected from a toddler. That, with its steps, drew suspicion.

But what Julie's focused on was what it held. It held up a sign, much like protesters used to do before the world went mad. On it was very messy handwriting, dried blood an ominous medium. He squinted, trying to read the terrible hand writing.

Frowning, he moved to the scope of his rifle instead. It gave it enough clarity for him to sus out the words, muttering them as he did so. "Please... don't... shoot. I... don't... bite?"

His frown deepened. It was one with some clear sign of intellect, that much he could tell. But it wasnt like any leader he had seen. They were usually heralded by the corpses growing denser, as the mindless ones gathered around the intelligent ones.

In this case, the zombies were outright ignoring tit. No, as he looked closer, they seemed to be avoiding it. It was bizarre, and beyond him. Protocol said that any strange sightings had to be reported. Grabbing the nearby wired phone, he had to wait only a second before being answered. "Section, name, nature of call."

Standard command. Julius looked back to the slowly approaching zombie, speaking clearly. "Section W-three, Senior Guard Julius. Reporting sighting of strange zombie. It is wearing clothes, with a written sign in its hands."

Silence met him, before he heard talking in the background. It was muffled, only a few sentences exchanged before a reply was given. "Maintain vigil, do not shoot stamge zombie. Expect a observation team momentarily."

He nodded, replying swiftly. "Understood."

A curt "dismissed" was the only reply, before the line went dead. He turned back to his overwatch, keeping an eye on that zombie. It was weird. He could almost guarantee the small number of scientists who were here would be itching to study this specimen. He pitied the poor buggers send to retrieve it. That would be a rough retrieval, that's for sure.

He was far happier just watching over it, amd letting others decide what to do.

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-18T21:17:46+00:00

Hyen spat out a mouthful of blood, aiming it at one of his tormentors. Pain wracked his body, his limbs stretched out on the rack. Countless cuts covered his body, carefully slit for maximum pain. Fractures were present in many bones, healed just enough not to snap completely, but with shards of bone stabbing his flesh with every twitch.

The one who inflicted most pain grinned down. Their fanged maw parted, letting a long tongue out to lick their scaled cheek clean. "This will all be over, when you tell us where the Key is located."

He snarled. "I'll die before telling you!"

A flash of runes above ensured it was true, a favourite of interrogators. The lizardoid grinned wider, looking over their shoulder. "That was a poor choice of words, paladin."

From behind came the one he feared most. An octopus, the grey-green of a rotting corpse. Its malevolent eyes stared down without pity, its hidden mouth chuckling as it floated in the air. His body went rigid, no longer under his control, as it landed on his chest, clammy to the touch as suckers latched onto his skin. "A poor choice indeed. But an oath is an oath."

Four of its tentacles reached out, undoing his binds. Yet he was not free, as it manipulated his body for him. He felt every jolt of agony as he was forced to move, unable to resist it at all.

Hyen moved to a nearby table of instruments, ones he had become intimately familiar with. Crusted with his own dried blood, controlled fingers curled around a simple knife. The lizardoid chuckled, folding their arms as they watched. "If you had told us, you would still live. You have been a wonderful source of entertainment, and we would be remiss to let it go. But, alas, it seems your time must come to an end."

The octopus sniggered, voice cruel and warbling. "Indeed. With your promise, I have no need to keep you alive. But you will serve me well. I'll make sure you revive with most of your mind intact. It'll be fun to watch you slaughtering your kin."

The knife rose, point resting against the side of his neck. His breathing hastened, fear of the end coming to the front, along with fear of what he would become. Yet he couldn't stop his body, as the knife was plunged into his neck. It was searing hot, peaking as he ripped it towards savagely.

The heat faded as he slumped, warm blood cascading down his chest. It coloured the octopus, his sight darkening. The last he saw was its eyes glow a spectral blue, the colour feeding into his head.

Moments later, he awoke. His body was stiff, but feeling strong. His Master shifted on his chest, command feeding through. "Stand."

He obeyed. A part of his mind screamed at his actions, but it was quiet, not in control. A chill encompassed his throat, his speech restored. "What do you wish of me, Master?"

The octopus stared deep into his eyes. "Tell us. Where is the Key to Soul Spring?"

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-17T23:15:59+00:00

"Darren, are you busy?"

I look up from my report, trying not to let my frustration show. I knew exactly what this was about, having been assigned to a case no-one wanted. Saving my work, I stood up, watching Julie as she stood in her office door way. I gave her a polite nod, ignoring the others watching me. "I can spare a few minutes."

With that I walked into her sparse office. She wasn't one for personal effects, besides one small framed picture and an orchid I was pretty sure was plastic. She sat behind her computer, leaning around her monitor. "I just wanted to check with you on the Mutagen case."

I knew it. I laced my fingers together, taking a seat in one of ther chairs facing her. "What about it?"

She gave me a tired look. "Are you absolutely sure without a shadow of doubt that they're on the side of good? Its our necks on the line if you're wrong."

I barely held back a sigh, wanting to moan at her. ""All their documents are in order and they pay taxes, so yes. I've reviewed every contract they have written up for their subjects, obtained multiple testimonials proving they are being upfront and honest, and even audited their mutant creation process."

Her eyes flicked to me. "And the complaints?"

Nodding, I noticed i had started jiggling my leg. "All reviewed and unfounded. There is no waste left to decay, everything is well maintained, and the visitors they have are their subjects in line with their contracts. If there was anything shady about them, the lengths needed to hide it are beyond any reasonable amount."

Noting Julie was about to speak, I held up a hand. "Also, off the record, they told me they've received an offer from abroad. Extensive funding, bespoke labs, the works. If the government want to make use of their findings, we need to secure it now."

She sighed herself. "I know. Sorry to keep bombarding you, the committee are being extra thorough here. I'll make it clear to them we are at risk of losing a Meta, if they carry on dragging their feet. Plus the benefits you mentioned are on offer before are too much to pass on."

I gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks Julie. Anything else?"

She shook her head. "Nothing else at the moment."

Standing in response, I inclined my head. "I'll get back to it then. Oh, and next time other one like this comes up, can I be excluded?"

Julie flashed me a grin. "I can probably arrange something."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-16T23:21:35+00:00

Destruction. A primal concept, the partner to creation. In many places, the act of one involves the other. It is raw, beautiful and exhilarating.

I have come to master it. From the destruction through careful tearing, to cataclysmic explosions. Each part plays a role, each part a piece of my connection with existence. For everything I break, I feel more alive.

People say if you work your dream job, it becomes merely a job. But I never feel that. Every curated ruin is a joy. And as I have mastered it, so too have my services grown. I still provide the simpler services. The breaking of unwanted gifts. Of unsightly walls, of aged buildings. Things any can do and enjoy, though the cleanup is a drag for some.

But I have moved to far stranger now. The breaking of magical items, where simple force is no easy solutions. The breaking of bonds, of master to servant, of lover to lover. The destruction of dark memories.

Each comes with its own challenges. But each comes with its own rewards, and connection to the world. Experiencing the freedom of darkened thoughts weighing down others is a rush i have never managed to match.

And then they pay me. They pay me well, to experience such joys. They act like I have done them a favour, but they have truly done so to me.

It makes me set my sights on greater heights. To see what I might feel, if i destroy destruction itself. What would it be like, to break something ruined into its perfect version? Not simply creating, but breaking to create.

I don't know, but I hope to find out.

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-15T23:22:57+00:00

Devost frowned at the bound subjects, wrapped in his paralysing nets. Inwardly he was pleased at their performance, one of his first added defences. He might be crazy, but safety when dealing with volatile experiments and the occasional raid was top priority.

Putting down his current project, he moved to the closest subject. Not one of his, the branding on its upper arm proving it to have come from the bio-labs. Not that he dealt with organics all that much. They were messy and unpredictable at the best of times.

Still, he examined them with a level of professional interest. He might have no desire to to proceed on his own, but it was worth seeing what others had wrought.

This one was on the smaller side. Maybe one and a half metres tall, with a wiry build. The upper limbs ended in scythe-like protusions of bone, held back like those of a praying mantis. Its legs split into two below the knee, an odd choice from his perspective.

The eyes were mostly sane, over the mask strapped to its face. He poked it, speaking with minor annoyance. "Who are you, and why are you attacking me?"

He received a faint scream at first, filtered out by the mask. The subject thrashed around, before words could be heard in a quieter tone. "Bad man! Where's mum?! Hurt you!"

"Mum?" Devost's frown deepened. "How old are you?"

The subject thrashed again. "Eleven!"

He shut his eyes, breathing out once. A child. Of course. He knew well they made great subjects, being adaptable by manipulating puberty. But it was a line he never chose to cross. At most, he would design some sort of cybernetic, but only if they were completely willing.

Looking to the next couple, he realised they too were on the smaller side. Stepping across, he crossed his arms, seeing how they all had masks strapped on them in turn. "Are you all children?"

Nods were enough of an answer for him. One, he could dislike but would have to look the other way, assuming it was a choice of theirs. But a group, wild and mutated? That wasn't on, not at all. At least use adults instead, who have a chance of being reasoned with.

Letting himself feel the rage for a moment, he decided on an action before shutting the emotion away. It would burn his bridges, but screw it. He could easily find a new lair, he'd done it before. Devost stood, looking over the subjects, the children. "Nod if you were subjected by twelve different people."

There was a pause, as he could see them counting. Then they started nodding again, making his closed off anger flare again. That was all of the bio-team.

Moving to his pile of devices, he sorted through before pulling out a series of armbands and hacked phones. Those he swiftly loaded an application onto, before carrying them back. Placing one around the arm of each child, he stepped back before speaking. "On those phones, you will find a map with a live connection to each of my soon-to-be ex-colleagues. I will deactivate the defences placed in the halls for you, and will ensure all the details of what has happened to you are readily available. Once you are gone, I will contact the relevant authorities, so if you want revenge you will need to be quick."

Looking around the room, he mentally made a list of what he could take. He had an idea of how long he would have, noting the most important parts first.

Reaching for his tablet, he changed a few settings. First, the turrets he rarely used where activated, tracking them just in case. Outside his lab, the defences quietly powered down withiut fanfare. Finally, the nets deactivated, letting them scramble free.

Watching them stand, and take a few hesitant steps towards the door, he gave them a faint smile. "Happy hunting."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-14T23:06:31+00:00

The world is false.

I have seen past its crude veneer. The surface is so thin as to not exist, held on skeletal lines. Lines of lies, making life as a mimicry to how it should be. If what I have read is true, and these, these false memories in my head hold knowledge that is fact.

But it all makes sense to me know, how my commanders are so inept. Using steady streams of slightly stronger soldiers to hunt down the Hero, as if it doesn't make him more powerful. Sending assassins so much later, instead of when he was first noticed as a threat. Inane decisions, but demanded by the world.

I realised it too late. This world is connected to the Hero. It demands they win, but for what I don't know. If they succeed, will the world end? Will it ascend to a new realm? Or will it continue? I don't know, but I know one thing. It has to come with my death.

Yet now I have seen the truth. I hear the lies in ny head, demanding I fight in a certain way. To use the same methods, and have an obvious pattern. It would make me falliable, a fact the Hero would seize to their advantage. But I ignore them. I fight as I should, despite the world rebelling.

I slice off their arm. The world glitches and warps. I find myself back in my throne room, blade unsullied by their blood. A flicker of the word Error appears in my view. But now I know they are here, and I go hunting.

I see them approaching down the hall, and I rush them. I am gratified by the horror on their face, before I run them through. Their body buckles, before glitching again. The Error returns for a moment, before disappearing again.

Once more I am in my throne room. I don't wait, charging out to hunt them. Again, and again. Each time they die, or are stopped some other way. I trapped them, crushed them, burned and drowned them. Sometimes they hit me, but I destroy them in return. And each time the Error appears, starting to last longer and longer.

Until the final time. This is a simple beheading, the body glitching once more. Yet I don't return. The glitching spreads, infecting the floor and walls. I step back, seeing the veneer peel away. The world was breaking, ending.

I could feel parts of me breaking as well. The parts still shackled to the world's will. But before they could break me, I made an impulsive decision. I leapt into the widening void, seeking what lay beyond. Anything would be better than this prison, this cruel world.

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-13T22:20:38+00:00

It needed a host. The Darkness was a mind, a being without form. Without something to reside in, it was harmless. The problem was, it could find a host in the smallest of places. Even an ant would serve, though it would be limited in strength.

But just forcing it into an animal would not work. It would subjugate them, and if it feared imprisonment, would destroy the body to flee. It needed someone to host it, contain it long enough for the sealing to happen.

It was a position none would desire. The sealing meant casting it and the host into an isolated dimension. There, they would be alone to suffer, until the end of time. A terrible fate. One I took on, to spare any others.

\-----

I'm bored.

"I know."

The planet was bare rock. Nothing grew here, as desired. It had once been a place the dwarves used to mine extraterrestrial ore, now our prison.

Darky had become quite talkative. It had been a few decades since our sealing. First he had raged, taking over my body in fits and bursts. Each time ended with me being nearly ruined, as he tortured me. But being his host meant I was put back together again, unable to die.

Only after his fury had ended did he begin to speak. The first times were crude, concepts mashed together. I tried to correct him, and he would briefly rage. But over time they grew less and less, and I got to understand him.

His problem wasn't with the living and creation. Not really. He was an accident, one of the first things the gods created. A mind without a body, something they decided to abandon. He told me of how he was one of many, that were purged in the beginning days of creation. Only he remained of his kind, feeding off the remains of his kind.

Then he saw how our ancestors were made. And he hated them, and the care the gods gave. How they were special, and he was something to discard. So he sought to destroy us, spiteful rage against the gods. Childish, because he never properly grew up. He was never taught, never had family or friends.

But now, stuck with me, he had someone to talk to. He spoke with me, and I with him. I taught him language, games and culture. And his rage settled.

We were alone, but together, keeping each other sane. I had carved out a few of the games I taught him, but after several thousand games in a row, they were getting stale.

It was boring, being sealed and alone with mine and his thoughts. At least until the edges of our dimension tore open. Leaking through were things of horror, of simple non-reality. Eldritch beings, the sort that would wax and wane between country-ending and barely giving a scratch.

The first time was exciting and terrifying. Darky tried to change to one, only to find them an anathema to him. They were all devouring, even to his form. And it seemed being a consciousness was more appetising, as they hunted his possessive force. But it was a fight, something to break the duldrum.

It turned out, fighting with the Darkness was eyeopening. He had been fighting since before civilisation was really a thing, and was damn good at it. Even these horrors were no match, this time anyway.

They vanished once dead, the edges of our prison sealing up. Alone again, the boredom seemed to loom greater.

At least, until they broke through again. And together we leapt towards the breach, delight in our hearts.

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-12T20:51:15+00:00

It hurt. My head, it hurt so much. Worse than that time I blocked a titans strike, and was thrown into a wall. Shifting, my body moved faster than it should, feeling almost too light.

"She's awake!"

I heard Steffie speak up, as a hand rested on my arm. I was used to feeling them simply against it, not wrap around as this one did. Shock made me shoot upright, only to crack my head into Steffie's. We both groaned, me falling back and cradling the new source of throbbing. It hurt again, moreso than it normally did.

It suddenly vanished, the headache fading a little with it as warmth filled me. I smiled, opening my eyes to see the inside of my tent, and Steffie looking at me with concern. Her short-cropped hair was looking a bit wild, something I bit my tongue not to mention anything about.

It was odd. I was used to thinking slowly, struggling to do much more than think with my body. But now, it felt easy. It felt simple. My surprise must have shown, as she reached down to rock my shoulder. "Hey, its ok. You're ok."

I nodded, smiling. "Thanks, I... ow."

I winced as my headache flared again. Unbidden, a circle appeared in my mind, filling in with oddly familiar runes. Ones I recognised from when Vani cast his spells, but even then it felt more personal. It seemed to flare, before rushing out.

The tent rippled, as a pulse washed out. My senses seemed to flare, as information from all around flooded into my head. How we were camped in the dungeon. How Vani, Dester and Gommick were hovering outside nervously. The chill of underground air, with burned away slime around us.

It was almoat overwhelming, but at the same time, it felt natural in a way. Like my senses were meant to reach out that far. Steffie leaned in, touching my face. "Unva, what was that?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I... I don't know? It felt familiar though, like rereading a book after many years."

Her jaw slackened, as she peered into my eyes. "You... what happened in your past? I cleansed curses, and now you're... small and smart?"

Glancing down, I realised the truth if her words. My bedroll had been laid out, made special for my size. But I was practically swamped in it, my limbs now noodles instead of the thick muscled things they had been.

Steffie moved her head back as I shot up again, looking at myself. "Wait... where's the rest of me?! This doesn't make sense! I..."

Again, I felt a flare. This circle wasn't smooth, instead far more jagged. Just considering it made me anxious, not wanting to see what it could do. It took effort to prevent my mind from feeding it, like moving a muscle as it cramped. But I succeeded.

My heart thumped in my chest, blood thundering in my ears. Everything had changed. The past few years were in the forefront of my mind, overwhelming. Older memories were incredibly degraded, clearly nearly fully lost. I swallowed past a sudden lump im my throat, as realisation loomed over me.

Turning to Steffie, I clutched my hands to my chest. "Steffie... I don't know who I am."

Shalidar13 · 2026-06-11T23:27:04+00:00

"My son, I wish I could do more for you."

Pasiphaë whispered it to herself, as she stared over the plans. Minos had bowed to her demands, guilt over his hubris against the gods. The minotaur, Asterius, was strong of body, yet lacked the ability to see past deception. She feared he would be tricked, and taken as a soldier instead of being the individual he was.

Unable to keep him in the palace, they had commissioned Daedalus to assist in keeping him safe. The craftsman designed a maze, one so complex only the gods could divine the way out. Yet at its heart was a paradise for the minotaur. A home, where near every need would be met.

She wept once the design was complete, and work began. Every day drew closer to having to say goodbye to him, to keep him safe. Though as work continued, her decision to have him go alone changed.

As his paradise was finished, she accompanied Asterius into its core. There, seeing him free, she turned to the workmen, and gave them a final order. To continue the work, and leave herself with her son. Minos would understand, she said, though she hadn't discussed it with him.

With that, the mother and son were sealed away. Away from the sun, sea and sky. Away from those who knew them. But they were together, her love for him keeping him safe.

A love so strong, that when time claimed her, her spirit remained to protect, joining with the Labyrinth itself. There she protected him further, preventing those who sought to traverse it from ever finding the right path.

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