Chapter 191: Chapter 191

“So, you three are trying to become stronger?”

“Yep! Leona wants to be the strongest defender. I wanna be the one to punch the hardest! Gnomie wants to outshoot an elf,” said Beark, the bear-eared beastfolk of the group.

The five had swapped names and made introductions once the initial awe of witnessing a narrow fraction of Ira’s power wore off. They remained in the trapped room, gazing at the phantom opera’s burnt remains.

“Are those your life’s aspirations?”

The friends looked at each other in slight confusion from Tris’s inquiry. “Kind of?” said the bear. “We don’t…really have much to fall back on. This is kinda all we’ve ever known. We make a living delving into dungeons and selling the loot we earn.”

“A living, huh? Tell me, were you frightened when that enemy appeared?”

Gnomie nodded as he hugged his bow. “That’s a shadow conductor. It’s only supposed to be found on the top few floors.”

“We made it to the 7th floor. The enemies are too tough for us, but we know how to sneak. Gnomie’s our scout, you see. He found a chest behind a hidden wall.”

“I knew it was a trap,” said Leona, gripping her shields. “I mean, it was obvious. Luck doesn't strike thrice.” Tris asked her to explain. “That was the third wall Gnomie found with the third chest. The first two were safe. Not the third, but you can see that.”

“A shadow conductor was probably hiding in it. Don’t know why it teleported us to this room near the bottom. Guess we can’t ask. But speaking of teleporting… That was so cool!” Beark’s eyes sparkled, his round ears twitching as he stared at Ira. “You were there! Then you appeared there! And how did you know Leona would fall into my arms? Are you responsible for that? How did you do that?”

“I…” Ira felt her throat constrict, except it wasn’t Tris’s doing. Ira wasn’t used to this praise, so she was at a loss for how to reply.

“It’s a secret,” answered Tris. “A draconic one. You wouldn’t reveal the method behind an ultimate technique, would you?”

“Ahh—” Beark blushed as Gnomie laughed. Leona elbowed him in the stomach and apologized for her friend. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been working on an ultimate move, so I know how you feel. But man, that’s some awesome power. My paw’s told me stories about dragons and Dragonfolk. Never thought I’d see one.”

“Are we…really that scarce?” Ira asked, unsure if she should speak. The last thing she wanted to do was overstep any boundaries, even if Tris had to approve her asking this.

“Rarer than a snowflake in a volcano,” replied the bear, crossing his arms. “Guess it’s not really something you think about?”

“No. Not especially. It doesn’t often cross my mind.”

Because I don’t always take the form of a dragon.

“What are your plans?” Tris changed the topic. “Retire for the night? I don’t want to overstep a boundary, but I don’t think you are ready for this dungeon.”

“I want to say you’re wrong,” sharply replied Leona. Her gaze saddened as if realizing the depths of her party’s limit. “You’re not, though. I know we could’ve won, but… It wouldn’t have been pretty. They say there are more conductors on the top floor. Don’t know if it’s true because that’s just a rumor.”

“It’s a conundrum. Why not accompany us?”

“Huh?” The party did a double-take.

“I mean what I said.”

“Do you? Really?” Leona observed the offer with a hefty dose of skepticism.

“Thank you for helping us.” She looked at her friends, who shared what she felt. “We don’t see what you gain from this. We can’t pay you what your strength is worth.”

“Who said anything about payment? We are only here to satisfy my curiosity. Besides, the dragon wishes to complete that technique you saw. It has yet to be perfected.”

“The spoils of battle will be yours. We don’t want anything that can drop here. To risk sounding overzealous… The dungeon’s loot is beyond us. Even the fabled Golden Harp is something we can live without.”

“I don’t know. Gnomie?”

The party privately deliberated as confusion was all Ira thought about. She didn’t know why Tris offered such a thing. This group had nothing they could’ve provided. They were liabilities—nothing more. Ira also didn’t need them to practice the warp.

“It’s too good to be true,” Leona finally said. “I’m sorry if this is rude, but we can’t accept.”

“Why be sorry?” Tris’s smile almost frightened Ira. “We are not upset at the decision. Well, we’ll be off. Try to be careful, yes? Avoid any unsavory chests.” Tris walked past the group and headed for the door. Ira was close behind. She looked over her shoulder. The expression she wore…

Just what was it she felt when looking at those three?

Ira sensed a smile even though she didn’t see Tris’s face. Was this yet another part of her scheme?

The two turned around as Leona approached. “Your offer… Is it really to master that technique?”

“Partly. The other half is that I don’t want to see you throw your lives away.”

“Huh?” The Leopardfolk scoffed hard.

“It’s as I said. You are not ready for this tower. I also doubt your abilities could conquer the Whispering Caves.”

“Am I wrong? The shadow conductor is an easy foe. Light magic, for example, is its bane. Anything with a bright light, really. Gnomie is a mage, although I use that in the loosest sense.”

More silence. The party didn’t expect to almost lose their lives before having their weaknesses on display.

“How? What can you offer?”

“Guidance. Instruction. Tutorship? Who do you think taught her?” Tris gestured at Ira. Technically, she wasn’t wrong—not at all.

“Okay, now I know there’s a catch. I’m sorry, but a normal person wouldn't stick their head out this far for a complete stranger."

“There’s another reason. I’ll say this, so interpret it as you will. It’s unconfirmed practice for something that may be required of me in the future.”

“…” Another round of deliberation later, and the group made a choice.

"I think your words are true, though,” said Beark. “I’ll change the deal. It’s just not right for us to keep everything even if you’re doing this for reasons we don’t understand.”

“Ah… So… Now, I see. Offering to give up physical rewards…for the opportunity to test… Was that the source of your discomfort? Would it have changed your minds sooner had I suggested a 50-50 split? Or would 60-40 have sufficed?”

“It’s just odd. From our point of view, you’re getting so much less than we are...even though it should’ve been the other way around.”

“That was a miscalculation on my part. Thank you for this learning experience. I’ll use this knowledge in the future.”

That had to be one. Ira knew a mistake like that was beyond someone of Tris’s caliber.

“Umm… Yeah, sure. Well, it’s nice to work with you, Tris. Ira.”

“Likewise,” replied Tris, taking Leona’s hand. The two firmly shook as Ira quietly pondered how the night would end.

“No. Not good enough. You’re too slow, Leona. You must match the illusion. Beark, why do you pull your punches at the last second? It seems like you aren’t, but you’re filled with hesitation when you should be full of courage.”

Ira thought Tris sounded more like a dictator than an instructor as the two watched from the sidelines. This would be their fifth room since teaming up—the stairs to the second floor were on the other side of that locked door, which was guarded by two gilded golems. These were smaller than usual, yet they were faster, with their strength eclipsing their taller siblings.

The first and second had enemies. They were more like janitorial staff—machinations of some desire to keep the tower clean— since they fought with mops and brooms, which served as the perfect test dummies for Tris to evaluate her temporary students.

The raw data was uploaded to her processing center, which was fed into an algorithm she had recently developed. Of course, it was imperfect since this method relied on understanding how an enemy fought. For example, a simulation of a fight between Leona and an automaton would play out.    Google seaʀᴄh noᴠelfire.net

A waypoint mirroring system would display the simulated Leona’s movements, showing her the optimal way to fight. This method worked better the more Tris understood her enemy, so she regarded it as a failed step toward a better system.

It was flat-out worthless the first time you fought an enemy, growing marginally useful the second. Her data suggested it required five rounds of lengthy combat to make it serviceable. Ten was necessary for it to show any results.

It was like a more extreme version of shadowboxing.

However, the flaws only applied if Tris hadn’t subtly dispatched microscopic clones to scout the rest of the tower.

It was already indexed. Better yet, those clones we're currently ‘fighting’ –dodging—every enemy they encountered fed more info to the algorithm.

“Look out!” screamed Gnomie as Leona slipped on her sweat. Her foe expertly danced around the incoming arrow, bringing those metallic hands down like hammers against an anvil. They smashed into an invisible barrier protecting the Leopardfolk, which spewed fire like a molten geyser.

This was their get-out-of-jail-free card—so helpfully provided to them by a certain Essence of Wrath. Of her own devices, nonetheless. Tris hadn’t ordered her to this, although Ira knew the command was forthcoming, so she got ahead of the curve.

“Get up. You’re allowed to fail here because we won’t let you die. But yes, you can do it. Those illusions can do everything you can do—they reflect the optimal path, mirroring how you must think about every encounter. They even mimic your exhaustion. Push yourself, Leona. Dig deep.”

Leona cursed as she rolled backward to her feet. Those shields should've weighed her down, but her arms were more muscular than the average maiden. She watched her illusory doppelgänger, then copied its stance.

Tris had said the shadow would do what was optimal. So, her going one way while it went another meant she had incorrectly guessed. No, not a guess—it meant she had failed to deduce the correct path, which harshly reflected her as the group’s leader.

At first, Leona thought this was too good to be true. Doubts flooded her mind when Tris had first suggested this type of training. Even now, she wanted to assume that no one but Leona knew her better.

After all, Leona was Leona.

That wasn’t the case at all. The shadow almost reflected a Leona that she didn’t know existed. That one wouldn’t have pressed an obvious advantage because a better one would’ve opened after Gnomie had provided covering fire. Yet because his arrow hit in just the right spot to knock it unsteady, it granted Beark a chance to slip away from his enemy.

His automaton kept pace—yes—but Gnomie’s arrow struck the part of the enemy responsible for on-the-fly decision-making. The specific target was only visible to Gnomie, as the archer’s training was to focus on their accuracy.

An archer wasn’t required to go for the kill shot. That was the optimal choice in most cases, however.

Not so much in this scenario. Beark slipped between the arrow-damaged automaton’s legs, turned around, and used [Launch Uppercut] to send it reeling into its ally. Leona had followed her shadow—a hair too slow—and barely managed to use [Force Shield] to knock Beark’s foe into the one she had been fighting.

The two clanked hard—with enough force to crack their gilded shells. Golden particles danced like snow as Gnomie readied the kill shot. His long hair fluttered from the energy radiating from the crystalized arrow tips. Ira had been responsible for those—she solidified a bundle of flames for the archer.

Again, it was her choice, but only because she knew Tris would've commanded it.

The tip oozed flame after the bow was drawn back, with fire igniting and enlarging the arrow the very second Gnomie let it go. It was like a bolt of magma that struck true to its targets, pinning both against the wall. The heat doubled, then tripled, reaching gold’s melting point with ample room to spare.

In seconds, those two enemies were piles of molten liquid—shiny and sparkly—scorching the immaculate flooring.

They were dead. With the foes conquered, their remains shimmered. The liquid suddenly oozed towards the room’s middle, falling into the narrow slit on the floor.

Ira heard a quiet humming as she said the temperature near the hole was increasing. The wispy, white smoke wasn’t alarming, though, as another noise foreshadowed the key to leaving this room.

The key that popped from the slit shone like a sparkly jewel from the candles. Tris gestured with her head, silently ordering Ira to pick it up. The surface was still warm to the touch.

“Oh… I…” Beark finally collapsed to the ground, his chest heaving like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the world to support his lungs. Leona also went down to her knees. Gnomie was in the best condition, but his fingers were blistered due to the improved way Tris taught him how to shoot his bow.

“Tuckered out, are we?” she asked.

“I—No. I was about to say you don’t understand, but you do. I know you do.”

“Actually, I don’t.” Tris’s response surprised Beark. “I’m not a fighter in the normal sense, you see. I specialize in information. Concocting theories, improving them, testing them, then improving them again, thereby repeating the process interests me more than you ever think.”

“…” Leona and Beark exchanged silent glances.

“Well, you really did help us,” added Gnomie. “We’ve never fought like that before.”

“I’m glad you said that because we have more floors to conquer.”

“Eh? Were you serious about that? This whole tower?”

“I was, Leona. We will conquer this tower, although I surmise the Dragonfolk here will take over primary combat duties somewhere on the third floor.”

“Oh, I’m sure it does.” Tris smiled, although…was it really one? It wasn’t sadistic, nor was it…compassionate? Just what kind of expression was it? “I’ve created a schedule. We shall be at the boss’s door approximately three hours from now. I’ve also taken rest periods into account. Oh, you three need this.” Tris produced three notebooks—each was personalized for Leona and her friends.

“You will get a notebook after each fight concerning what you did right and wrong. Study well.”

The three shared another look. Beark figured they were in too deep to back out now. Leona had to agree-- if only to prove that she obviously knew her limits more than this odd Lionfolk, whose true motivations were still unknown.

The second floor had more fighting as Tris instructed Ira to use her ice to inflict a slowing debuff on the unlucky monsters to mimic their foes’ ever-growing lethargy.

"There’s nothing wrong with starting slow,” Tris had said as her reasoning, watching Leona struggle—less so than before—against a gilded harp sentinel. The foe attacked via noise. It also moved via sound waves by vibrating the strings across his feet, yet what could this enemy do if it was rooted in place?  That gave Leona’s group one less thing to worry about.

Every room brought another battle to exercise the group’s growing familiarity with their depths. Each brawl ended with new notes that contained more constructive criticism. Better yet-- starting from the fourth room, Tris implemented additional goals. Accomplishing them was easy—they just had to follow Tris’s instructions, but the problem was nailing the execution. Even though the instructional waypoint shadows accounted for the group’s tiredness, the same couldn't be said for their mental state.

The exhaustion they felt went beyond common lethargy. Even a 24-hour power nap would’ve been too short, yet if they had gotten the necessary physical rest, did they have the willpower to keep going?

Tris never became tired. She didn’t know what it felt like to be ‘out of breath’ because she never needed to breathe. She sometimes heaved for air during those intimate moments with her lord, but those were in response to physical pleasure.

Tris was closer to creating an algorithm to accurately denote the levels of exhaustion and the loss of performance each level brought. While not the most pressing thing in the world, solving this non-existent problem only cemented one fact.

Math was everywhere if you knew where to look. You couldn’t go a step without encountering what was only made possible by the world's understanding of mathematics, so the numbers were everywhere.

Nothing prevented the group from ascending to the third floor, where more fights awaited them. As Tris expected, Leona’s party had cashed their last check about four rooms deep. The Leopardfolk couldn’t feel her legs anymore. Her arms felt like jelly. Poor Gnomie’s fingers were so sore they couldn’t form a fist.

He was like a walking advertisement for sleep. Hibernation came effortlessly to Bearfolk. “I…feel like I won’t wake up until next winter,” he had said, his sluggish eyes struggling to remain open. Tris solved that issue with coffee. At this point, the group was used to random items spawning from nowhere.

After the quick break, Tris issued new orders to Ira. “I believe our friends here can still learn by seeing you in action. You have a fire puppet technique. Create them, then order them to mimic their fighting style.”

Ira obediently obeyed like the tool she knew she was, masking her body’s chimerism with two balls of flames that grew into their own person. One was given fiery copies of Leona’s shield. The other had Beark’s gloves, and the last had a scorching bow. A second later, the intensity diminished since Tris had overridden the percentage of power each one had to resemble the one they were based on.

“It’s a test for you, too,” she said, packing up the empty cups since it was time to move. “You’ve had overwhelming power for so long that you’ve forgotten what it was like to be weak. Not that I’m calling you three weak.”

“No. You’re not wrong. We really can’t compare to a Dragonfolk.” Leona didn’t take it to heart. At this point, she was used to Tris’s somewhat refreshing bluntness.

“Anyway, fight within this new limit,” she addressed Ira. “Put on a good show so I can use the data to finish the training journals.”

“I understand,” Ira replied. Arguing wouldn’t do anything. Besides, she didn’t not . Fighting came naturally to her. Her thoughts were also shared with her clones. Unlike Leona’s group, she didn’t have to verbally issue commands. Nor did she bother with gestures or noises.

It was one mind—three bodies—working in harmony. One would’ve assumed that advantage ruined this experiment.

“Man… Speaking with our thoughts… That’s called telepathy, right? Why waste time speaking when we can think instead? That’s what she’s doing with those fire puppets, right?”

Tris didn’t understand she had overlooked something until Beark said something on the fourth floor. The enemy composition was four harp sentinels, a dozen echo spirits, and the mine-like harmonic wisps.

Progression until now had been smooth sailing, even if only a cup of the gigantic ocean that was her power was tapped into.

It didn’t change anything except stumbling Ira for a few seconds. The two clones were given randomized personalities and makeshift Status Menus to become ‘alive’--regarding how the world interpreted them.

The hurdle was small, which Tris had expected because Ira had flawlessly adjusted to fighting with her lord and Sekh in the brawl against Remy.

Furthermore, displaying this proved to Leona that there was no excuse, especially when Ira confirmed she had ceased using the telepathic pathways.

Soon, after conquering more than two dozen rooms, killing hundreds of the dungeon’s defenders, and brute-forcing a puzzle by burning away a locked door…

They had arrived at the boss’s chambers. The towering doors were staggeringly tall. The left one was engraved with a harp-wielding woman, so that had to be the goddess. A group of kneeling warriors was on the right. Obviously, those were the tower's bosses.

Of course, Tris already knew everything about the bosses because she had seen them fight a dozen times.

The answer lay in the clones she had ordered to investigate the tower. Their final task was to valiantly offer their lives in the name of silence. Tris knew the bosses’ attack patterns, spells, skills, and techniques. That data fueled a thousand simulations against Ira and her clones at varying degrees of power.

Except it wasn’t just that. Tris’s efforts had discovered something she called encounter stacking. A dungeon’s innermost chambers only reopen if the boss or challenger dies. Teleportation could circumvent it somewhat, but Tris had found restrictions. Of those, she discovered limits that didn’t extend to the power of the void.

What would happen if she warped away a clone after the confrontation had started? The system regarded it as a victory for the dungeon, so no loot would drop. The challenger wouldn’t gain any titles, either.

However... What if the bosses were teleported outside their assigned boundaries?

That was a victory for the challenger.

Already, Tris held an almost sure-fire way to conquer every dungeon. The time between the dungeon ending a fight and granting the proper rewards wasn’t instant, as Tris had soon discovered upon satisfying a short curiosity. There existed a brisk delay. If you warped the bosses back into the room, the fight would begin anew as if it hadn’t started.

The encounter would restart, except the previous encounter was still ongoing. The bosses and loot would be duplicated. Doing it a third time meant fighting 15 bosses while gaining 3 chances to acquire the Golden Harp.

She didn’t stack more than four because this was unknown territory. Like with [Void Warp], extensive testing could come later. Just knowing about it was more than enough to quench Tris’s interest because theorizing about the why and how was one of her favorite things to do.

Yet now they stood before a door holding a boss that had perished a few hundred times with nary a harp that glinted the golden affluence nobles were known to covet.

“You know… This doesn’t even feel earned,” noted Beark, his tone unusually heavy. The bear sounded dejected—almost like the fun in his voice had been sucked away. “We’re here, but we don’t deserve to be here.”

“Why is that?” asked Tris.

“Seriously? We’re like tagalongs. We don’t want to be like those rich assholes who pay to join. They do nothing except provide their presence, yet they still get the rewards.”

Tris didn’t see Leona’s group as scroungy tagalongs who, like the diseased rats of a favela, waited to scavenge the dead bits once the powerful were gone. They were offering valuable information, so it was almost the reverse. As far as Tris was concerned, those three had already ‘paid’ more than enough.

“I believe that’s the wrong way to think about it,” she replied. “We don’t feel that way, so the issue lies with you.”

“Never one to mince words, are you?”

“I’m merely speaking the truth.” She turned to Ira. “It’s getting late, so let’s wrap this up. Use your power to exterminate the bosses before they can move. Oh.” She looked at Leona. “I presume that’s okay?”

“Why ask us? You’re the one in charge.”

“Because it concerns your growth? She and those flaming puppets have fought as your group does, so I was wondering if you’ve seen enough.”

“I think we have,” said Gnomie, who held four bags full of notes given to them by Tris.  “It’ll take us days to get through all this.”

“Yeah, definitely. Maybe even longer to put your recommendations into action. Guess I should apologize, huh?” Beark chuckled before yawning. “I let my guard down a little. My thoughts must’ve slipped out. Sorry about that.”

Leona yawned, adding she had thought similarly.

Tris refocused the group’s attention on the door as Ira approached. The ground rumbled, the vibration almost knocking over the gigantic marble statue of the harp standing in the room’s center. This dungeon always had a motif about music, yet it grew more intense, like a raving artist on the brink of lunacy.

The symbolism was less ‘hinted’ and more ‘in your face,’ which probably reflected the goddess’s growing mental insecurity as the angry mob closed in on her. The madness was at its peak here—the room where her most stalwart defenders held the line.

Oh, how little they mattered in the grand scheme of things.

The fight wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t a clash, either. Nor would it be a scuffle. It was over in ten seconds—maybe fifteen if Tris counted when the door descended behind them instead of when the surrounding torches ignited themselves, revealing five ominous figures cloaked in dark shadows.

Ira waved her hand, summoning pillars of erupting molten magma beneath her enemies, killing them instantly.

Leona was slack-jawed. Gnomie’s wide-eyed stare could give Beark’s gasped expression a run for its money.

“We… We got the title.”

“And the notice for completing the dungeon…”

“Good. Now, why don’t we look inside that?” Tris pointed to a chest placed on an altar. It was shaped like a harp, but she knew it didn’t contain that elusive item because [Deduction] had already investigated its contents.

“Guess we weren’t lucky, huh?” Beark asked as he cracked it open. Inside were various items relating to constructing a harp, including standalone strings, soft, malleable metal that shone the opposite of gold, a handful of silver, a lot of copper, and a single gold coin.

“We said we’d divide it 60-40....” Nothing Leona showed Tris tickled her fancy, and it wasn’t because she had already stashed the rewards from the previous dozen encounters. She had to pick her reward, so she chose the metal bar and silver, leaving everything else to the group.

The teleporter soon appeared, and the group returned to the lobby, where that old man approached. “Found a group, have ye? You conquered the dungeon in record time, although I was certain you wouldn’t have faced any trouble. Tell me, did…”

“No. We weren’t fortunate enough to get the harp,” replied Tris. “Perhaps next time.”

That phrase meant something entirely unique to Tris.

“Perhaps so. It’s still late. Morning won’t come for quite some time, so you may want to wait until dawn. Take care.” The man walked away with a slight bounce—he wasn’t anywhere close to the feeble fool he masqueraded as. Tris acknowledged his decreasing heart rate and wondered if he was in a state of ‘fight or flight.’ If they had acquired the harp, then the man would’ve been duty-bound to act, for only Gloria herself believed she deserved the harbor proof of a goddess’s love for music.

“Are you camping here tonight?” Tris asked Leona.

“That’s the plan,” she replied. “What about you?”

“No. I’m afraid we have other places to be.”

“In a hurry, huh? I can respect that. Where’s your destination?”

“Well, will we see you again?” asked Gnomie.

“…” The sharp answer wasn’t unexpected.

“We plan to leave in two or three days, so who knows where our journey will take us. I do know that it’s not suited for your group. You’re like stones that need polishing. Keep up the work. Take the journals to heart so you can impress me with your growth if we meet again.”

The challenge was what Leona desired. Throughout their short time together, she came to respect the odd Lionfolk and valiantly strong Dragonfolk. Beark and Gnomie felt the same as they watched their new friends depart the tower. They had only walked about ten feet under the moonlit night when Tris peeked over her shoulder. She winked with a friendly smile...

And they were gone… Vanished without a trace-- as if they weren’t even there.

But they were. Gnomie's bag contained proof of this fateful encounter that would alter their lives.

"Why here?” asked Ira when she felt the familiar warmth of the lava pool surrounding that metal platform. She was back home. “What about the other dungeon? Don’t you need information?”

“Because we’re finished for the night. I’ve gotten enough to improve [Void Warp]. Further testing can come later.”

“…” Ira sat, hugging her knees as silence filled her throat like cement. She eventually shattered the uncomfortable feeling. “Did I do well?” she asked, her voice weak and trembling. “I did, right? Everything you asked for?”

“Do you know why I pretended to be surprised?” Tris ignored Ira’s query. “Why I let it seem like Leona took me by surprise when she said offering to give up everything was too suspicious?”

“No. I don’t. It’s not a mistake you’d make.”

“Because it isn’t. It was a test. Responses to certain stimuli can help determine the breadth of a person’s psychological reaction, which is used to understand what, why, and how they function. Words have power. They’re often mightier than the strongest spell or sharpest blade. In a place like the Lord Conference, where violence is forbidden, arguments must do the fighting. That will be our toughest battle, so I must prepare myself.”

“I’m learning from this,” Tris continued. “It didn’t matter if Leona’s group accepted my revised offer. If they hadn’t, I would’ve acknowledged where I went wrong and closely examined what I could’ve done to have garnered a favorable reaction.”

“Is… Is the world your test subject?”

“You aren’t wrong. Anything— everything— can participate in my ongoing desire to fulfill my lord’s dreams. To answer your question, Ira. Yes. You did well.”

Those words tickled Ira’s heart. She felt her stomach warmly shiver—a feeling like no other—but one she certainly wanted to experience again.

“You’ve done so well that I will reward you.”

“What?” A reward was the last thing Ira expected because she felt like she didn’t deserve one. “I’m a tool. I—this—” Flabbergasted, the stuttering force of emotion had difficulties sharing her discomfort, which Tris promptly waved off.

“A tool is a tool, but tell me, Ira. What happens to a neglected sword? What use is a rusted firearm if it cannot perform its task? Can the rotted handle of a shovel be saved once termites take root? No. By then, the symptoms are too great to cure. You’d be better off throwing away the disposable tool to get a new one. You, Ira, are not disposable. There is only one Essence of Wrath.”

“…” Ira still didn’t know what to make of it. She stood when Tris approached, preparing for the worst.

A portal suddenly appeared beside Tris. “Go. Enter.”

What could Ira do but obey? She entered, with Tris following behind as…the mysterious gate led to a…

Yes—it was a market-- a location designed to look like one, but why was the sky blue? Where was the lava? The smoky haze?

“Not your home. Turn around.” Ira did. She realized the portal had transformed into a mirror, but it didn’t reflect the market. Instead, it showed what many would interpret to be her prison. “This is a partitioned segment of [Void Storage] specifically designed for you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Because I haven’t given you this.” Tris warped a leather messenger bag from somewhere. It was rugged—not fashionable at all—yet…

Seeing it made Ira’s stomach float with butterflies. She took the gift, put it on, and looked inside. She found a metallic card that read [GGP: 10,000].

“That’s your wage. It’s in GGP.”

“You don’t need to know.” The blunt reply was more of what Ira expected. Seeing Tris act sent thundering alarm bells echoing in her heart. “Follow me.”

Tris escorted Ira through the small market, commenting that it would grow the more tasks Ira accomplished. “You can spend it on anything you see. Your home doesn’t have to remain a hellhole of smoke and brimstone. Take this, for example.” Tris stopped in front of a stall that sold paintings. It was called World Background. “The first is free, so pick what you want.”

Ira had a choice. Should she pick the icy winter wonderland? What about the flower fields dancing in the middle of a grassy plain? She didn’t know what to feel about the waterfall cavern.

In the end, she chose the flower fields for no specific reason. Nothing immediately happened until they walked to the mirror.

“Changed? Yes. It has.” Ira stepped through. Immediately, the fiery air had been evicted, and a pleasant, almost fruity aroma had appeared in its place. The lava? Gone. The smoke? Nowhere to be found. The floating platform of iron? Replaced by a wooden foundation. Ira’s bag glowed again. She looked inside and found a rectangular device.

“It’s modeled from a device called a tablet computer. You can access the market from it, but it also stores what you purchase.” Tris taught Ira how to use the shop app. From the categories listed, she selected furniture, then bed, and then bought the first one for 0 GGP. Nothing immediately happened until Ira opened the storage app. She pressed the bed, and it suddenly appeared on the grass. It wasn’t the best spot, so Tris revealed another function.

The move button. Activating this mode allowed Ira to alter an object’s position or direction. She used it to transport the bed to the wooden foundation.

“This is the end of my instruction, but the tutorial is only beginning. Follow what the tablet says. Or don’t. You aren’t forced to do any of this, so feel free to find it irritatingly annoying.”

“The tutorial will unlock a tasks app. Most can be completed in your home. Most offer GGP, but some provide rewards you cannot buy in the market.”

“Still silent, huh? It’s a lot to take in, so I will take my leave.” She vanished—just like that—leaving Ira alone with an overarching field of colorful flowers and a grassy plain that stretched endlessly across the horizon.

Torn between her emotions, Ira's uncertainty wrestled with her psyche. Did she even 'reward?' Despite the pain, she reassured herself that it didn't hurt. She touched her heart. Tears streamed down her face as she grappled with her conflicting feelings.

Even if it made her uncomfortable…

Even if it was something she felt like was way beyond her…

Ira turned to the tablet.

Would you like to experience the tutorial?

"I…won’t let this go to waste,” she whispered to no one, hugging the device as she felt like she stood on the precipice of a new beginning.  “Please, show me how this works. I…”