Brent Stinebaker
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V-9 Academy (I)
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 19:08:44 +0000 UTCSome judge a nation by how many legends it possesses under its banner. Others by how vast its territories are. A few even use esoteric means, writing theorems to guess at mana variabilities. But I reject all those metrics in exchange for just one: How much does a nation give a shit about its own children?
And how much effort does it spend trying to make those children proper path-bearers? Academies, sects, cults, whatever you want to call them—halls of learning and training meant to fashion the young and innocent into tomorrow's geniuses and killers. Because the amount of resources one devotes to a child indicates how much investment they're willing to put in for their nation to grow stronger, how many experiences they're willing to feed their undeveloped so that they can emerge as adepts when their rivals are but initiates.
Sure, legends live for a long time. There are heroes who make it centuries, even a few monsters that cross the thousand-year threshold. Except they're pretty rare. Most of us have a date with death coming. Doesn't matter if it's natural or not, it's coming. You feel it on your neck. The system will spit plagues at us, invasions, and at some point, if you're not the best of the best, a mistake will follow and you'll be cut down. So, you gotta be replaced. We all gotta be replaced. And the children that follow after? All we can hope for is that they're a little better.
And that's what these academies are for. They're that whetstone, sharpening the ever-growing blade of every nation.
Of all the academies on Integrated Earth, I think my greatest appreciation goes to Phoenix Academy, if only for their militaristic rigor and willingness to indulge in a live-fire type campus. For you see, Phoenix Academy believes in experiencing conflict to condition its students to it. Doesn't matter if you're a marshall or a non-marshall; you have to experience conflict.
Which is why the entire campus is built around a grand gate, a primal gate at that. You want to describe the buildings there? They're more like fortress walls. There are children manning the turrets, children watching from on high, children tasked with maintaining the defensive positions of their dormitories.
Now, most of the Primal Dimensionals have been neutered a bit by the time they come to raid by the wards put up on the inside, but still, they do come and play.
The unprepared get their walls breached all the time. When they do, they're penalized. Damages to your dorms must be repaired by your own hand, or a major tithe is required. Get one of yours kidnapped? Doesn't matter. They still need to be in class on time, so the rest of you are going to get them, or you're going to fail together.
And that's just another thing: you're graded together as well there. You can say a lot about the Yellowstone Republic, but you can say this for certain: they treat warring seriously, the same way they treat child-rearing properly.
Give your young a taste of the blood. It's coming, so they'd best be ready when the steel falls.
-Legend-Swordlord Hank Nakamura
V-9
Academy (I)
As soon as Merrielmel led them out of the room, Shiv noticed a few floating objects hovering in the air, and he wasn't the only one. “Don't mind those,” Merrielmel stuttered.
The floating fragments gave off pulses of violet mana. The pulses slowly dissipated, but they caressed Shiv, folded around him. Rather than sinking into his body, they formed a protective layer, turning near and visible as they stabilized. However, the Deathless could still feel the mana gliding against him, and it greeted his Shapeless Tides like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.
“Don't mind that either,” Merrielmel explained. “It's simply to ensure that even a Diviner can't tell that we're here, and there are a great many Observers outside! A great many. Divination—it’s a very specific kind of magic. One of the few that can peer into this place regardless of all its—uh, well I can’t call it nature, it’s more unnatural protections. Yes. Yes!”
Hero-Enchanter Merrielmel was a particularly eccentric elf from dress alone. He had a pointed cap that was a bit too large and too tall for his head. His robes were a mess of tassels, and each of them had a mess of badges hanging along their lengths. They all resembled a chain of large buttons, and as he moved, they clattered together.
Underneath his robes, Shiv had caught sight of leather armor. Studs of metal glinted from the armor, and they radiated with magic as well, dimensional magic. Furthermore, there were all the gems, jewels, and rings the Enchanter was wearing. All of them were suffused with magic, and it came together in a messy mélange of colors. Some of them clashed hard, mana fields bounding off one another, creating bursts and sparks in the air. Every few seconds, it seemed like fireworks were going off around Merrielmel.
And then there was his face. Merrielmel was utterly hairless. He had no eyebrows, no chin hair, no hair along what little of his scalp that Shiv could see. He was bare, and his skin was smoother than a baby's bottom.
And then there were his teeth. Shiv only caught a glint of them, but he knew most of them weren't real. He knew that because they didn't register when Shiv briefly bounced his mana hydra off Merrielmel's body. Accidentally, of course. Considering Shiv couldn't tell what type of mana they radiated, he guessed they were geomancy implants. But for the life of him, the Deathless couldn't guess why someone would have a set of geomantically charged teeth.
Merrielmel stumbled and limped along ahead of them. And while they walked, Shiv surveyed the surroundings. His surroundings. When Adam said that this place crashed into a dormitory, he wasn't understating anything. The restroom in this wing of the Coliseum was surprisingly intact. But behind, an entire section of the building had collapsed inward, utterly smashed to pieces by a brutal impact. Light spilled through cracks lining the sides of the structure ahead. The glow of unfocused mana leaking over into the world. Shiv saw that light radiating from the surface of Gateways or when someone was doing something extreme with an Unattuned Skill. Then, from the ceiling rained flakes of darkness. It passed through without ever brushing matter, and Adam hissed. “Shit. That’s… That’s from Harlock!.”
The darkness rained down on them. Shiv held his breath, but Merrielmel didn't seem too worried. And neither did the Educator. Her tome kept them hidden from the other ascendants, so long as no one could physically see them. And the Master-Enchanter's strange cube-shaped flying contraptions continued projecting their anti-divination fields. Shiv counted twelve of those contraptions, and they always remained equidistant from each other.
“They mask our presence,” Merrielmel began. “So you don't need to worry, so long as we are not directly exposed. But, but, well, the ascendants, their divinity, they have specific abilities in specific places—domains. Harlock has a great amount of control, but, Harlock, this is utterly blasphemous to say. I'm very sorry, Irons. I'm very sorry. I don't, I didn't, never wanted you to see me like this. I never wanted you to think so lowly of me.”
Irons ignored Merrielmel while the Enchanter stuttered on. But then came a bursting crackle of static in the air, and Harlock’s darkness vanished from the world entirely. A second later, Can Hu let out a mechanical groan as if something struck it. Shiv paused mid-step.
“You alright?” Shiv asked.
“I am.” Can Hu hesitated. He reached out and used the Deathless's shoulder to steady himself. “I am fine, but there has been a massive signal-based attack directed across the city.”
“Signal-based? From who? The Ascendants?”
“No, I don't think so.” Can Hu's optics flickered, and for a moment they almost winked out. A burst of ones and zeros exploded out from him, and Merrielmel let out a surprised chirp. The orcs had stopped as well, as had the other prisoners. Adam was beside Shiv, and Can Hu was between them. A building sense of worry loomed inside Shiv.
But after a moment's struggle, Can Hu managed the first step and then another, and they were moving once more.
“What the hell was that?” Shiv asked.
“A signal-based attack,” Can Hu said, repeating its words from earlier. It briefly stammered, and a loud squeak came from inside its chassis. It was still somewhat damaged from the escape, and its legs were little more than sparking nubs. Despite this, it insisted on walking using its own power, not having Kura and Gone hold it up anymore.
“I think it was one of the prisoners,” Can Hu said, “an automaton like me. They might have broken free from the quarantine, and unleashed the attack to overwhelm the guard. If they inflict enough harm on the machine lifeforms in the capital, it will disrupt things and cause even more chaos. I suspect that is their strategy to slip through in the confusion. They have stopped now. I assume they are dead. The cessation of the signal was too abrupt.”
Shiv's worry was transmuted into a heavy weight. He saw Adam looking down at the ground, unable to face him. There were consequences for everything they did, and this was one of them. They successfully managed to collapse the mana core of the prison, but their escape was accompanied by many others, and now someone else might have paid for that with their life.
Valor had told him something about consequence. There was no way to avoid it. No matter what you intended, there was always a cost in the end.
Irons noticed the quietude developing between Shiv and Adam, but he said nothing. Not to them, anyway. “Where are you taking us?” Irons said.
“Oh, just downstairs. This is going to be grand! Grand!” The Hero-Enchanter giggled. When Irons didn't respond with any kind of mirth, the hero enchanter stopped giggling. “I, you have to understand, not all of Aenerial Coliseum was destroyed upon impact. This wing… This wing was particularly protected because the center of the arena cushioned it. Several parts collapsed around this wing, and it effectively protected some of the infrastructure as well. That's how I managed to repair the pipes so easily. That's how I managed to reconnect them with a few underground...”
Merrielmel kept looking over his shoulder and licking his lips. Irons never stopped glaring at the man. Shiv understood how it would be unnerving, but Merrielmel was naturally anxious anyway, it seemed. “Yes, well, we'll just be heading down. There is, I managed to create a special section downstairs. Another place that was spared from the destruction.”
As they followed Merrielmel, he ducked under a door that was half caved in. A mess of rebar and other debris cluttered the room they had to squeeze through. The orcs groaned and the ground splashed as Solzimort slithered in behind them. It was at this point that Shiv realized Merrielmel hadn't noticed the Hydra at all.
To Solzimort's credit, he was applying a great deal of stealth, doing his best to make no noise. Shiv made eye contact with the tip of Solzimort's nose and simply shook his head. He wouldn't reveal the hydra if the hydra didn't want to be revealed. It would be another ace up their sleeves in case this went south. Getting real tired of being paranoid of everyone too, Shiv thought.
As they shimmied under more debris, they crossed through the room and found themselves walking down a set of stairs. The stairs kept going. One floor, two, then ten. It was pitch black by the end. Pitch black except for one faint glow flashing against the walls from far below. By the time they hit the very bottom of this place and could go no more, mainly due to the ground ending as a mess of rubble instead of an extended set of steps. Shiv saw a symbol of a set of crossed swords glowing over a set of doors. They seemed to be made from reinforced titanium.
“The hells are you hiding in there?” Shiv asked.
“I can't believe this,” Irons mumbled. His stoic demeanor slipped slightly, and Shiv read the sheer disbelief coming from his narrowed eyes. “You managed to secure a training room too? How?”
“Oh yes, I was surprised as well,” Merrielmel said without looking behind. He placed a hand on the door and just then it gave a rattling noise before it hissed and snapped open. “Yes, yes, yes, okay. I still left enough power inside. I didn't need to, I didn't need to lever it open this time. That's good, so good.”
The insides of the following room were pitch black, but even so, Shiv could tell how wide it was. Merrielmel's words echoed, and the air didn't stink so much down here. There wasn't that much dust, either. There was a cleanness to it that told him this place was well ventilated, well-used, and a rush of wind made him all but certain his guess was true.
As their party filtered in, Merrielmel held up a finger, and then there came a lance of lightning from the tip of his hand. Shiv narrowed his eyes and realized the Enchanter was an Aeromancer, but he wasn't a particularly powerful one. There was no static around him, and the bolt he sent was feeble at best. However, it struck a center point. It struck something on the ceiling, and a rush of crackling energy traveled through the rest of the chamber. A second thereafter, everything lit up.
Lights flared ablaze, and it was like standing beneath several suns. Shiv winced and turned away. Adam fared even worse. The Gate Lord snarled, and his frustration was evident as he held back a string of curses.
“Oh, I do so love vision damage,” Helix commented bitterly. “There's nothing more I like than regenerating my lenses. It is a comforting activity that excites me to no end.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Merrielmel muttered. Two more bolts left his finger, and both struck the same point. The first made the room even brighter, and soon Shiv couldn't see anything but blinding light. The next, however, brought everything to a twilight level of dimness, and as the spots left his vision, he realized that the light wasn't natural.
In fact, it was magical. Orbs of pyromantic energy glistened above, but it was more than that. Every time he stared at them, they stabbed at his awareness. They sizzled upon his vision, and Shiv realized those weren't normal lights at all. These weren't even normal magical lights. They seemed to be things that affected one's perception using a ball of flame.
“I had to add in some of my own constructs for this place,” Merrielmel said, gesturing upward. “It’s meant to be a safety measure as well. A means of blinding someone if they were trying to, uh, eh, steal something from here. They—they can also detonate so.” The Enchanter shrugged and shrugged once more. Awkwardly, he stopped, blinked, and turned away.
But Shiv was no longer looking at the ceiling. Instead, he was looking at the rest of the training arena. There was a large section of the room cordoned off, wooden boards stacked high and packed tight. It did look strange in a sense. Like they were fused together, with barely any separation between the boards. Something made Shiv want to slam into it—to see how they might splinter if struck. He pushed the intrusive thought aside. They were hammered in place by a masterful hand, each nail driven in at the exact same point across each and every board. But even with that barricade set up, the rest of the room was still forty meters wide and twice again as long.
Nearby, there were eight meter wide circles painted on a padded mat, and if the Deathless recalled correctly, this was what people used to train their grappling. To be pushed down was to lose points. To be pinned or have one's joints twisted was to lose points. To be controlled was to continuously lose points. He heard Tran talk about facilities like this, but it was more than just a few grappling mats on the ground.
There were bars jutting out from the sides of the walls. Some of them had targets on them. Others had rings one could do acrobatics through, or perhaps even swing past for aerial practice. A training dummy lay propped against a wall. It was decked in rusted armor, but a trail of glistening enchantments spilled out from its torso in a winding spiral. It looked like the thing was sprouting wings, wings that splashed against the alloyed walls of this place.
Shiv guessed there were other things meant to assist warm-ups and training here as well, but they were buried under a collapsed section of wall to the right.
Upon the leftmost walls was a large mural, a painting of a phoenix soaring high above the sky. Below, a vast campus unveiled itself to Shiv.
The exterior of Phoenix Academy was a grand ring. Colossal buildings that resembled more the battlements of a fortress encircled the rest of the grounds, and within there came a square. At the four edges of the square were towering spires, their tips mithril bright and glistening with magic. At least that was what he could tell from the depiction. And within the square were a mess of other buildings. Some of them were like interlocking U-shapes, all stacked together, with small patios between. Others were round buildings with clear, transparent tops.
There were even a few structures that hovered in the air above, floating like small fortresses. And then at the very center of the campus seemed to be a large archway. The archway resembled the entrance leading into Gate Piety, and that's because it was the very same kind of entrance. His eyes widened as he realized there was a gate at the center of Phoenix Academy.
“Welcome,” Merrielmel said. “To… Well, this is what the Academy looked like two hundred years ago. It's far grander now. The structures then were positively archaic, far more unattuned. With the present level of mana density, we have expanded the school grounds. We have incorporated a great deal more Dimensional enhancements to every structure, and so our acceptance rate and training facilities have been greatly expanded as well.”
Shiv stared at the hero enchanter as he searched for something to say. “Sounds to me like you're trying to pitch me enrollment here.”
The Hero-Enchanter threw his head back and giggled. “Of course, I would recommend everyone spend a semester at Phoenix Academy. In fact, as many semesters as possible.” He sighed blissfully. “I would do this until I perish or until time itself turns to dust. It is a wonderful place, and I wouldn't give it up for the world.”
“And you didn't,” Irons said. There was a slight growl in the man's voice. “You didn't even after your mistake. Three hundred and twenty lives… Three hundred students.”
Merrielmel coughed and then stammered. The Enchanter flinched away from Irons, but the captain was no longer dredging up old history. Instead, his interest fell somewhere else. “You knew we were coming.”
“Yes, yes, I think I told you, but the liaison—I have a Neath liaison with Divination abilities—they sent me a notification. Now, you don't have one yet, but…”
Irons held up a hand. Merrielmel's words came to a messy stop. “Stop. What did they tell you to do?” Irons asked.
“Oh, I, eh, I am here to provide accommodations and services. And this—this is the perfect place for both.”
Everyone aside from Merrielmel looked around.
“Here?” Adam croaked. “You want us to just… sit around here?”
Merrielmel coughed. “Well, we do use this ground as a place for some of our experiments. I used the dummy there to test certain things, certain small-scale enchantments, but no, no, it’s uh, we have the rest of the space for ourselves. Here, let me show you!” His hand rose, and he pointed at the wooden barricade sealing off half the room. “My workshop! Some of my special facilities! They’re hidden on the other side. Would you like to see? Please, everyone, come and take a look. We will…” The Enchanter coughed, and his words failed him once more. He staggered off awkwardly and Shiv cringed.
Yeah, it doesn't feel entirely right to call him a Hero, Shiv thought to himself. Hope he makes a pretty mean enchantment because this guy feels like he's gonna crack under any kind of pressure at all.
As Merrielmel got to the other end of the room, he pressed his face against the wooden boards and Helix sighed. The orc clapped his hands behind his back and shook his head.
“Insul, I have doubts about our strategy,” the orc said it aloud, and Shiv watched Merrielmel's posture flinch as if he'd just been whipped.
“Yeah, well, you're not the only one,” Shiv replied. “But we need to be out of the way for a while. And if this place can serve as a safehouse…”
A laugh came from Mortar. The large orc looked around. “Might not be safe for long. How far underground are we, elf? And where’s all this mana coming from?”
Merrielmel held up a finger instructing the orc to wait.
“Oh, that's a tiny finger. I think I could fit his whole hand in my mouth. And I don't think I'd even taste anything. Just turn it to a bloody paste between my teeth.”
“Easy, Mortar,” Shiv said. “You're not eating him. Yet.”
Just then, Merrielmel knocked on one of the wooden boards twice. And with a sudden burst of motion, he drove his fist into it. The wooden board cracked, but then it spun. And as it shifted positions, something within clicked. The entire barricade began to turn. And as it did, a spill of Dimensionality washed through.
It was at this point that Shiv realized just how much was being hidden here. Adam gasped as a veritable flood of magical power crossed over. Shiv's Shapeless Tides rattled like plate armor enduring a hail of arrows. Before him, the room went from the ragged remains of a training pen to a set of stairs. They ran high and up, and as the group continued on, they kept going and going. When everyone passed the barricade, the wood made a cracking noise as they snapped back into place and sealed the route behind.
As he got to the top of the stairs, the space before him loomed. This wasn’t just another room, it was the size of a small block. A vast, open field greeted him, but the ground beneath his feet was made from reinforced stone. And ahead, there were risen walls shaped from said stone separating several sections across two kilometers of space. It resembled a maze, but it was a maze made in the heart of an arena. The limits this arena rose high and resembled the edges of a smooth bowl. Above, a translucent shell glowed a faint purple, bathing everything below in a near-bioluminescence glow that made Shiv miss the Abyss.
“How did you manage to hide this under the administration's nose?” Irons breathed.
“Oh, it's really quite simple,” Merrielmel chirped happily. “You see, when the arena smashed into the dorms, chaos unfolded. A good section of the central arena was detached from the other structures. It was an infrastructural flaw from the beginning. I've mentioned this several times, but ultimately no one bothered to listen. So it detached, it fell through the ground, and it was embedded with this small wing of the entire arena. While the rest was being moved away, it was uncovered by me and Concelhaunt .
And so, well, we decided to request some aid, because there was no way we could move it on our own. However, we could disguise it by…”
“Through a series of mana explosions,” Irons said, with additional heat in his voice. “That's what it was. It wasn't the rest of the mana core power in the Coliseum coming apart during the end of the crises. That was you.”
“Technically, that was, oh, well, yes. But no one was hurt. We made sure of that. It was professionally done. And most importantly, we needed this. It was essential for our work. Irons, you have to understand. After the Core Collapse, I…”
“After the Core Collapse, you should have been gone.” The Captain was furious now. His voice didn't get any deeper. He didn't clench his jaw. He didn't even glare any harder. But you could feel the scorn radiating from the man.
“I… I…” Merrielmel retreated from Irons. “Well, the rest of you, there are sections of this place. Please, go up. Seek a place for you to set up. It's not exactly perfect for a residence, but it is well hidden. Very well hidden, in fact. We are currently masked entirely, after all. Ah, we're hidden by the gate, of course.”
And now Adam made a gagging noise. “Wait, you… we're underneath Gate Infernius?”
“Gate Infernius?” Shiv asked, confused.
“The Category 10 Gate you saw earlier in the painting,” Adam snapped. “The one at the center of the academy!”
“You had the remains of the central arena moved under Gate Infernius?”
“It was quite the undertaking,” Merrielmel said, “but it was ultimately the most effective thing we could do. After all, it will take an inquisitive eye to detect a separation of different mana signatures, and with the sheer amount of mana radiating from the Infernius Gate, it's very hard to tell. Truly.”
“And should anyone find anything, you'll simply shut off all the mana flowing through here,” Adam finished. “It's… this place is also siphoning mana from the gate, isn't it?”
“Well,” Merrielmel folded his hands behind his back and looked aside, as if shy about what he was doing. “Not truly. Somewhat. It's going to my experiments anyway, and my experiments benefit the school. Dramatically. Why, just last week we had another breakthrough.”
“What's this?” Tequila cried aloud. He stood over a tall stack of crates and leaned down.
Merrielmel paused and let out a pitched cry of terror as the orc ripped the top off a crate and reached in. “No, don't!”
The orc pulled out a large bag of glistening blue powder. It radiated with Biomancy mana, and Helix sneered. “Oh, good. Dathoro. I see that you're also a connoisseur of fine drugs, Enchanter.”
Merrielmel gestured at the orc hissed. From under his tasseled robes, there came a few screaming darts. They were the same objects that unleashed pulsing waves of Divination mana, and they collapsed around the orc's hands, snatching the bag out from his grasp. Tequila let out a brief grunt of surprise before Merrielmel teleported through the air. He snatched the bag from his own construct and chucked it back in the crate.
“Do not touch my things! Do not, do not, do not!” Merrielmel's voice rose in octave and anger, and soon he was jabbing a finger into the orc's chest. The terrible, anxious man was gone, and it was replaced by an enraged path-bearer. Still, Merrielmel didn't seem too dangerous, but with the contraptions he had, Shiv suspected the man was not short on ugly surprises.
Shiv noticed Tequila's finger twitching, and he let out a growl of frustration as he moved as well. “Tequila, no!” Shiv said. But the orc turned, and then he saw the look on Shiv's face. It wasn't a look of rage or threat. It was simply a pleading look. Shiv was tired. Merrielmel was clearly unbalanced.
And by this point, from what Shiv could tell, Merrielmel was also at least a part-time drug mover, if not a drug grower. Still might not be enough reason for an orc to kill him, but he definitely wasn't clean. Especially not with all the other old history happening between Merrielmel and Irons.
“Oh, gods,” Adam said, pinching his nose. “What this happening the entire time.”
“A question I share, Young Lord Arrow,” Irons growled.
Tequila let out a low moan of frustration as he stepped back from Merrielmel. “That's right, you!”
Shiv immediately seized the enchanter by two tassels and began pulling him along. “Merrielmel,” Shiv said under his breath. His voice was cold, but he needed to make a few things known. “Listen, listen really, really carefully. I'm not threatening you right now. I'm letting you know that those orcs, the only reason why they're not flaying your skin off to make new shoes or pants for themselves is because I'm here. I'm their Insul. Additionally, the only reason I haven't just left or smashed this place is because we need each other and I need your help.”
The Deathless pulled out the two halves of his face mask. “You're going to fix this, you and whoever else you're working with. I need that done as soon as possible, and I need you to show me whatever outsider shifting item you're trying to build. We need to get this done and finished as soon as possible so we can get out of each other's hair.”
The Deathless's grip tightened and he pulled Merrielmel in closer. “Because I don't think we're going to like spending time with each other. Again, this isn't a threat. I'm just guessing from how I feel right now. You seem like a nervous man, Hero-Enchanter. I'm not a nervous man. I try to be decent, but sometimes, when the situation really, really pushes me here, I get kind of violent. Don't let me get violent.”
Merrielmel stuttered for a few moments before he quickly nodded. “Of course, but wait, let me see that.” He reached out and snatched the two pieces from Shiv's hand. Immediately, he placed them together and he narrowed his eyes. “This? This is a Heroic-Tier piece. Perfect semblance. Very, very remarkable. Wait, did someone build this for you? No, no, it's too, too convenient. I haven't seen a perfect semblance naturally created in the past, I don't know, 100 years? 120? Perhaps. That's hard to tell. Need to wait till Concelhaunt to get here, gets here. And then—”
“Gets here and what?” a loud, booming voice followed. And from the same way they just came, a stout looking man approached. And just then, Shiv realized it wasn't a man. Instead, it was a goblin piloting what looked to be the chassis of an automaton. Hissing steam sprayed out from its sides, and the chrome-colored machinery of the chassis sang with every step. The chassis resembled a skeleton wrapped in interlocking rings, and on its hip swayed a large hammer, while there was an anvil magnetized to its back.
“So these are our volunteers? Holy fuck!” Hero-Smith Concelhaunt cried aloud. “Irons, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Being disappointed,” Irons muttered coolly. “Him, I understand. You. Why?”
“Ah,” Concelhaunt swallowed. “Well. Uh. Oh, shit, Adam! You’re here too.”
The Gate Lord just folded his arm. “Hero-Professor. Funny meeting you here. How’s your daughter? Does she know about this?”
“Yeah. Funny.” Concelhaunt sighed. “Fuck. Uh. Merri. Show me that there, uh, mask thing. Say we need to fix that first, right? So, uh, let’s do that first.”
Comments
Tom C
Bets on their plans going to shit and they end up going through the gate on another adventure? TFTC!
Brent Stinebaker
Don't worry. It will be happy and totally calm school times for a while. Trust. Everything will be smooth and low tension. Trust.
Broseph
I'm struggling to adjust to how chill things are right now. No offense, Mammal. That wasn't a challenge. Your story has fed me so much second hand trauma, no amount of psychic antacids (narcotics) will stop me from tasting the emotional reflux (eye fucking a wall while I ruminate on my existential anxiety).
