I wake with a start and sit up quickly.
“I wasn’t sleeping!” I lie, but I don’t get any response.
I take off my glasses and rub the sleep out of my eyes before replacing them and squinting up at the dark blob of nothingness where the warden of my prison waits. Predictably, I don’t see anything.
Which means that I am Allison, as I thought. A quick glance at my status confirms it:
[Allison: Tier 0 Human]
[Class Slot 1: Tier 0 [Unified Collective ]* - Level 5/10
[Class Slot 2: Tier 0 [Wanderer ]* - Level 6/10
[Attributes]
Power: 1
Resilience: 7
Awareness: 1
Ego: 6
Will: 1
[Skills]
Parallel Wills (1)
Retraced Steps
It’s pretty crazy how much of a difference attributes make. When Vi’s in front, I can see so much further ahead of us, and she notices things that seem impossible to spot even after she points them out to me. Like the big lizard hiding above the entrance to this little cave I’m stuck in.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been here, since it’s impossible to keep track of time, but despite Vi’s best efforts we’ve dozed off a couple of times now. The lizard hasn’t eaten us in our sleep yet—in fact, as far as I know, it hasn’t even budged. It just sits there.
Gosh, I am so bored. I take a sip of water from the stream and shiver at the bracing feeling of the icy water as it goes down. The candles generate a tiny amount of warmth, and with so many of them under the cloak I’ve managed to avoid freezing to death, but it’s far from comfortable.
“Vi, are you up?” I ask.
Still nothing. This sucks. It turns out we’re not always active at the same time. Like when Violet was fighting the snail and I was just sort of checked out, or when I tuned out while she was following the snail trail. Switching or falling asleep tends to make one of us go dormant, but it’s usually just me being useless and passing out.
Without Vi to talk to, I have to occupy my attention with something else. She’s incredibly patient, and I have nothing but respect for that, but I feel as if I’m losing my mind. Maybe the lizard is actually intelligent, and just waiting for us to introduce ourselves, and we’re actually being super rude. Or maybe the boredom is getting to me.
I hold the cloak tightly around myself and groan. It’s not exactly warm under here, but opening it is going to suck. I need to check on my wounds, though...
I put off losing my precious warmth by checking on my hand first. It got torn up pretty badly by the rock snail’s spear, but it’s mostly healed over now. A bit raw, but I can comfortably hold things with it. Ugh...nothing for it.
I do my best to slip my leg out from under the cloak without losing too much heat, but the rush of cold air immediately makes me shiver. With cold fingers, I carefully undo the belt holding the cloth in place and slowly peel back the bandage.
“Blegh, gross...”
The wound is closed, I think, but it’s kind of a bloody mess. I rinse the cloth off in the stream and try to clean it up a bit. Once the dried blood is washed off it actually looks surprisingly good. It still hurts like heck, but I don’t think it’s infected and it’s scabbed over nicely.
I’m about to replace the bandage when Violet’s voice stops me.
“Don’t do that,” she warns. “Let the bandage dry first or you’ll increase the risk of infection. How long were we out?”
“Good morning to you too...” I purse my lips. “How the heck am I supposed to know how long it’s been?”
“Right, sorry. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, I guess.” I shrug. “Sore, tired, cold, unbelievably hungry, and bored out of my gourd, but otherwise fine.”
“What about our friend?” she asks.
“Dunno. Can’t see it.”
“May I?”
I nod, then close my eyes. Switching is kinda hard to do on purpose, but I managed to do it once, so it should be possible. I try to relax and imagine myself moving back. There’s a brief sort of “pressure” that builds in my head before it suddenly vanishes and I open my eyes again.
The room is much more clearly visible now, and with a bit of focus, I’m able to make out the shape of the lizard still perched in the same spot as ever. It’s still in exactly the same position—not so much as a twitch out of place.
“Is it even alive?” Allison asks. “Lizards are cold-blooded and it’s pretty cold down here. Maybe it’s dead.”
“I don’t want to make any assumptions,” I say. “But admittedly it does seem to be pretty dormant.”
“Yeah, and I guess it wouldn’t be sticking to the wall like that if it was dead, huh?”
“Probably not,” I agree.
Allison does raise a good point, though. If the lizard really is dormant, then we should be able to leave easily enough—but do we even want to? Wait—of course we do, I need to think more long-term. We need better shelter, food, and ultimately we need to find a way out of this place—or even back home, if we can.
Also, attributes have proven to be life-saving, so it’s worthwhile to try to do things that will raise our levels, and that means more exploration. We’ve completely neglected two entire attributes, and if they’re as useful as the others have been, that’s going to need to change eventually.
“Alright,” I say, standing up slowly while keeping a keen eye on the unmoving lizard. “I’m not going to go picking fights, but we can’t stay here forever.”
“You’re going to try to sneak past it?” Allison asks.
“Less ‘sneak’ and more just walk by and hope it leaves us alone. We also need to make sure we can always find our way back here—it’s our only source of water.”
I test my leg, finding that I can actually put a bit of weight on it now. I’m still going to have a bit of a limp, but it’s manageable. The wound closed abnormally fast, but I’m not sure which attribute accounts for that. I would have guessed Power, but maybe Ego? I thought Ego was more of a mental attribute though. Maybe Resilience helps too.
Bah. I could drive myself mad trying to think about it, and I’m not about to complain about the results. I wish I had something to carry the water in, but as long as I can find my way back here it should be fine—we need to find a source of food.
I move slowly, watching the lizard as I approach and being careful not to make any sudden movements. As I get closer, I can see its eyes tracking me—definitely not dead, then. Still, it doesn’t seem keen to fight.
I stick to the wall and creep slowly along it towards the entrance, careful not to cross directly under the creature. To my relief, it leaves me alone entirely as I pass under it.
“Phew,” Allison sighs in relief. “Thank goodness. So, what’s the plan now?”
“Find food, I guess,” I say, shrugging. “Not that I have any idea how we’re going to do that.”
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Come to think of it, what kind of ecosystem is this? How does it sustain itself? There has to be an energy source somewhere, right? Either animals that go out to hunt or stuff from outside finding its way into the cave.
Of course that’s assuming it isn’t just magic or something. I mean, five foot tall snails and giant lizards aren’t exactly typical.
“Why don’t we start by retracing our steps?” Allison suggests. “We can leave markers along the way so that we’ll always be able to find the stream.”
“Good idea,” I agree. “The labyrinth of candles is much warmer than these caves, if nothing else.”
* * *
Returning is pretty easy thanks to [Retraced Steps] but it takes a long time since I have to keep stopping to carve out signs on the side of the walls. I can’t see as far as Violet when we’re exploring, but I can just sort of feel when I’m on the right path, even if I don’t actually recognize the terrain.
Or rather, I do recognize it. Because it all looks the same. Just rocks and tunnels as far as I can see. But with the help of my skill, I’m able to navigate my way back to the big twisted cavern, where I encounter a bit of trouble.
“Uh, Violet?” I whisper nervously. “I don’t see the candle we left by the sign anywhere.”
The cavern is large enough to get lost in, and full of confusing twists and turns. I place a new candle down next to a sign pointing the way to the stream, but with the disappearance of the first one, I’m not so confident that it’s going to do me any good.
“That’s troubling, but shouldn’t be a problem yet,” Vi assures me. “Choose a wall and stick to it, then skip any openings that don’t have our signmarks.”
“Oh, good idea!”
It takes a little while, but by following Vi’s instructions, I do manage to find the way back towards the Crossroad. Sure enough, the candle we placed is nowhere to be seen.
“Do you mind if I take a look around?” Violet asks. “Maybe I’ll be able to spot a sign of what happened to it.”
“Sure!”
I close my eyes and try to switch, but after a few seconds of effort, all I have for my trouble is a headache.
“Uh, it’s not working,” I explain. “I don’t know why—I was able to do it earlier...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Violet reassures me. “The same thing happened to me before. We probably just need to practice it or something.”
“Right...”
My mind wanders a bit as I follow the tunnel back to that first crossroad where we encountered the rock snail. It’s a place full of bad memories, and even though it wasn’t that long ago, I’m not eager to be reminded of them.
So I occupy my mind by thinking about what Violet said. She said practice, but really she means that we need more levels, doesn’t she?
[Allison: Tier 0 Human]
[Class Slot 1: Tier 0 [Unified Collective ]* - Level 5/10
[Class Slot 2: Tier 0 [Wanderer ]* - Level 6/10
[Attributes]
Power: 1
Resilience: 7
Awareness: 1
Ego: 6
Will: 1
[Skills]
Parallel Wills (1)
Retraced Steps
I’m still a bit nervous about trying to look at [Unified Collective]. I don’t have the persistent headache anymore—except when I try to switch with Violet—but I worry that trying will just bring it back. Maybe my new attributes will help but I don’t want to risk it without more time to psych myself up.
What I do know is that I need to level it up more. I don’t want to be an albatross around Violet’s neck, and that means I need to focus on what I can do to help her. Gaining levels in our shared class is the most direct way I can help, and maybe I’ll even be able to combine [Wanderer] into it so that Violet isn’t held back when I’m not able to switch with her.
“Stop.”
Vi’s voice breaks me from my reverie and I freeze. “What’s wrong?”
Just ahead of us is the stone shell of the rock snail Violet killed, still sitting in a crusty pool of dried blue blood.
“Something’s different,” she says. “I’m not sure what, but stay alert.”
“Okay...”
I edge forward slowly, taking her word for it. I don’t benefit directly from her awareness when I’m in front, but she can still notice things that I don’t even without her Awareness enhanced senses.
It doesn’t take long for me to notice it too. The snail’s corpse takes up most of the tunnel, with only a small space to shimmy around it. On the side opposite to us, there’s a gaping hole in the shell, revealing the soft flesh of the snail inside—or what’s left of it.
“Eww...” I complain, holding my nose at the smell.
Something managed to break through the shell and eat the snail from the inside out, leaving behind nothing but the empty stone shell and some smelly scraps.
“Don’t let your guard down,” Vi warns. “Whatever did this might still be around.”
I nod and creep quietly toward the split in the path, peeking around it to make sure nothing is sneaking up on us from behind. Satisfied that I’m safe, I continue back to the place where everything started, relaxing slightly as the warm glow of the candles comes into view.
A loud crashing noise snaps me out of my relaxation, and I immediately flatten myself against the wall, gripping my knife tightly in my good hand. Something is in there. I tiptoe up to the entrance, idly noting that the bones of our skeleton friend have disappeared as well.
The source of the commotion is easy to find. Another rock snail is locked in combat with three giant lizards—actually, upon closer inspection one of them has been speared to a wall, so two lizards.
The snail isn’t faring too well. The lizards are much faster, and even though the snail takes up a lot of space in the narrow corridors, they are easily able to climb over or around its shell to stay out of the way of its stone spears.
Though it’s faster than it looks, the snail isn’t able to turn swiftly enough to get a bead on the more agile reptiles. A long trail of blue-stained slime suggests that it’s been trying to flee instead of hiding.
I watch the melee with morbid fascination. The lizards work together to confuse the snail into trying to target one of them while the other sneaks around to harass its exposed flesh. It’s a slow process, and the attacking lizard ends up catching a nasty gouge from the snail’s spiky tongue in the process, but after a few minutes, the snail finally retreats into its shell.
The lizards aren’t deterred, each of them climbing up on the shell the moment the snail seals itself to the ground. I can’t tell what they are doing, but it’s a good opportunity to examine the lizards with a proper light source.
They have dull reddish brown eyes with no lids, and thick stubby legs with vicious claws. Their skin—or scales, maybe—are a mottled gray and brown, which explains how the one by the stream was able to hide so effectively. I notice that the living ones have started to form a few orange and yellow spots, slowly spreading across their skin. Adaptive camouflage?
My thoughts grind to a halt as the lizards do something unbelievable. After several seconds of just sitting on top of the snail’s shell without doing anything, their eyes begin to glow a bright orange. There’s a noticeable drop in temperature as the two lizards focus on a single spot on the stone shell and it slowly starts to glow.
First a small red spot, then orange and yellow, before it finally goes white-hot and the stone begins to melt. The snail screams—or maybe that’s just steam escaping the tiny hole—but either way, it reacts violently. The snail reemerges from its shell and thrashes in a way I didn’t even think possible, smashing its shell into the wall and instantly crushing one of the two lizards to death.
The other one doesn’t let up, clinging to the shell as it burns its way through. Even though the snail could smash the lizard at any moment, it doesn’t—either not smart enough or just too panicked to think of it. Its death throes slow to a halt and the snail collapses, leaving the one remaining lizard the sole survivor of the fight.
It wastes no time skittering around the side of the shell, abandoning its magical assault in favor of the much easier opening. All I can do is watch as it devours almost the entire snail by itself. Once it’s finished, the lizard starts loping towards me, slowed down by its distended belly.
I flee back to the Crossroad before it can reach me, making a snap decision to take my chances with the path obstructed by the dead snail. I hide behind the shell as the lizard trundles back down the tunnel. It pauses at the branch, and I hold my breath as it glances towards me.
It stares for a second, then licks its eye and scampers off down the other branch.
I fall back against the hollow shell and let out the breath I was holding. With shaky hands, I wipe the cold sweat from my brow.
“What the frick was that?!” Allison practically shouts in my ear. “Those geckos had laser eyes! Magical laser geckos!”
I blink. We switched? Probably when I heard the fight start, but it’s frustrating that I’m not sure.
“We’re not calling them laser geckos.”
“Like heck we aren’t!” Allison exclaims. “Violet, do you know what this means?”
“That we’re unbelievably lucky the other lizard wasn’t interested in eating us?” I deadpan.
“No—well, yes—but no, it means that this world has magic!”
“We already knew that,” I point out. “The [Angel], the candles, the entire [World Engine]?”
“Okay, sure,” Allison concedes, “but that’s different. This is magic magic. Like geckos with laser eyes magic. Do you think we can learn to do something like that?”
“You want to melt rock with your eyes?” I ask.
“I mean, not that specifically, but are you telling me you don’t want to do magic?” she asks incredulously.
I shrug. “I guess it would be good for self-defense. It didn’t really help the laser geckos, though. They could have just waited out the snail instead of provoking it further. Their magic got one of them killed.”
“Well when we get magic, we’ll have to be smarter about it,” Allison retorts. “Also you totally just called them laser geckos.”
I pause, frowning as I pick myself up off the ground and check around the corner to make sure the laser gecko is well and truly gone.
“...we are not calling them laser geckos.”