by Wolfe Locke
Paul reached out and put a hand on Seraph’s shoulder to comfort him. “You’re going to need to get stronger, Seraph. A lot stronger than you ever were in that other life of yours. Your strengths, your weaknesses, identify them. Work on them, build upon them, and address them. You need to learn how to fight, how to command, how to lead, and how to win without relying on overwhelming power to overcome obstacles. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Seraph nodded; his face flushed with pain. His bones began shifting, loudly grinding, drawing a look of revulsion from Paul.
“Good; I want to help you,” Paul said in reply, nodding his head. “We need a course of corrective action to implement real change, and then we need to go for it. But now isn’t the time for that, is it? Let’s just get you through this change—or whatever it is that your body is doing.”
Seraph was in agreement; he had been holding back the flow of the change within his body, but he couldn’t do it anymore. He needed to let go and let the ichor finish its work.
I may have made a mistake, thought Seraph as he braced himself with his good hand, while a burning sensation could be felt near the nerve endings where he had lost his other hand. Slowly, piece by piece, the flesh began to bulge and push outwards, forming into a blackened hand with glistening talons that looked as if it had been burnt and thrust into burning oil. The color began to fade and soon looked like the rest of his pale skin. Exhausted, Seraph collapsed on the ground as Paul held his hand, reassuring him it would be OK. It wasn’t as Seraph was hit with the same burning sensation throughout his whole body, as the ichor worked to increase his physique.
Seraph watched breathlessly as his body began to change before his eyes; it was odd. He felt terror as he looked down on himself, wondering what he would become. Strangely, Seraph felt the heat of anger replace his terror and exhaustion. His mind was going through a frenzy of scenarios, a thousand possibilities. A million different gruesome ways this could turn out. Until, finally, the sensation passed, and Seraph slumped into the sand. Paul was still holding his hand, his face pale and shaken. The ground beneath Seraph was soaked from the ordeal, the fire low and the sun coming up.
Exhausted yet refreshed, Seraph stood up on his legs, no longer mangled, and thankful he hadn’t turned into a monster. He still looked human.
Notification: Abyssal Ichor (Mythic) has combined with Body of Mana. Abyssal Body unlocked.
Details: The combination of various cosmetics in the same area can result in a fusion of cosmetics, combining aspects of both.
Notification: Abyssal Body Unlocked. This passive is always activated and converts mana to restore damaged limbs, body parts, and executive functions. As a result of this ability, your physique has increased.
Notification: Ability – Touch of the Abyss Unlocked. This activated ability allows the user to restore their health by converting organic matter into healing energy.
Chapter 15: Ability Shop
* * *
Seraph dusted off the sand from his legs, trying to clean out the bits that had worked their way into his shredded jumpsuit. He looked on in amazement at his regrown limb, even though it wasn’t identical to the one he had lost. Clenching and unclenching his fist, he went through the motions, needing to see if everything still worked as it should. He needed to check if he could use the new hand that had grown.
Seraph was unsure of some sensations he was feeling, but overall, he had no complaints. His body was whole, and he had gained an ability that could easily make him near unkillable. With all the changes Seraph had already observed in the dungeon that had increased its lethality, he would need the advantage.
“You alright?” Paul asked as his eyes shifted over to examine Seraph’s new physique. The man’s eyes forward-looking at Seraph, seeing the extra inches and mass. “You look like a young man now. This will make it a lot easier for people to be OK with following you.”
Looking down at his body, Seraph realized the truth of just how much he had changed. Muscles rippled through his chest; the jumpsuit he was wearing was now tight on his body. The fabric stretched around the shoulders and arms. He was much larger than he had been before. Paul had been taller than him, and yet now he was at least a foot taller—if not more.
Taking a second to consider Paul’s question, Seraph answered, his voice deeper like a man’s. Even his thoughts seemed more precise, more mature. “I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. This is a big upgrade for me. Even though it has not been too long, I had forgotten what it felt like to have a powerful body. If I can upgrade this form further and refine it, it just might be stronger than my original Black Seraph form.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Paul asked, his expression curious as if he was just starting to actually see Seraph for the first time.
Seraph thought for a moment and admitted, “It is. Even if people know better, they always talk down to children—you included. With an adult body, I won’t have that issue. But things will still be. When I first entered the dungeon, my Black Seraph form was automatically unlocked. I had a massive advantage over others, and while this new body is amazing, I will need to work hard to develop it. That is something I never really required in my past life. I’ve never had a need to truly grind a skillset or abilities.”
Something about the way Seraph said that made Paul outwardly groan, realizing a terrible weakness of his son. “I’m curious, and I need you to be honest with me. Just how much training have you actually done over these decades you say you’ve been in the dungeon?”
Memories shifted in his mind as Seraph combed his past for an answer. “Barely any. I did some cross-training with different weapon systems, but other than that, I can’t recall,” admitted Seraph. “I never had a reason to. I had at my fingertips raw power that nothing could withstand. Finesse wasn’t needed.”
His jaw dropped in shock; the revelation nearly overwhelmed Paul as he heard that. “Listen, Seraph, that’s something you should have mentioned already. Right now, you’re my teammate, and I’m yours. I’m relying on you to have my back, and part of that means understanding what your true limits are—because they might be completely separate from what you’ve known in the past."
Paul put his hands through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "I'm not sure how you fought before, Seraph. It doesn’t matter either because you’re not the same man you were. Neither is your body. You’re going to need to figure out a way to fight that doesn’t end with you so badly hurt afterward. Even with your new abilities, we can't sit around for hours, waiting for you to eventually heal up. Safety is never guaranteed; I doubt we will ever be able to just lounge around like we have been while you healed.”
Seraph nodded his head in agreement. He had come to the same conclusion. Already he had more than enough close encounters that should have resulted in his death.
“I agree with you, Paul, things need to change. That's something we need to talk about, like going into the city in the distance. I know nothing about it. We are going in blind. I've never been here before; this whole place is new to me. You and I might actually be the first people to have ever set foot on this floor. I need to do things differently. In the past, I was given nearly overwhelming power from the beginning, and this time, I don't have that crutch. That and the dungeon keeps changing. Even my knowledge of the past is quickly becoming useless, and this journey has only just begun."
Seraph’s father stood up and looked out from the shore near the pier into the city. "Let's do this the old-fashioned way. We know that the ocean behind us is full of horrible things. So let's assume the same horribleness applies to any other standing body of water, sewage, or otherwise we might come across. Count them all as hostile—at least, on this floor.”
Seraph nodded. That made sense to him. He said, “Alright, I can deal with that; the logic is sound.”
"Next, we need to figure out a goal,” Paul stated as he broke down the process. “Because I am not OK with us just wandering around trying to fin
d something to do. That's a good way to get killed, and I’m sure you’ve noticed that we have an entire city in front of us. A city with a lot of places for nasty things to hide and not much light to see by. So, tell me, what would you have done in the past?”
“Paul, our goal needs to be finding the ability shop,” Seraph mentioned as he thought of the past. “It should appear somewhere near the beginning of this dungeon—likely just off of the pier. That needs to be our first goal before heading off to fight the lord of this place.”
Seraph looked up toward the city, noticing its dark skyline with its dead buildings and lightless skies cloaked in general darkness. "If I know anything about the dungeon, it is that it hates to repeat itself. A different monster will roam those streets than what roams in those buildings or flies in the sky; I’d want and need to know what those monsters are."
"Alright, so, Seraph, you know some of the patterns of the dungeon. Even if things are different now, a tiger isn't going to just change its stripes, so maybe your future knowledge isn't completely useless. What would you do next?” rationalized Paul as they worked through the planning.
"I'd put together a few no-name teams of unranked and disposable people that I could easily write off if trouble came up. Each team would be assigned someone with high survivability to conduct overwatch—somebody fast who could easily escape a confrontation and evade detection, or someone with a high defense and an ability to disengage in case the teams were in danger of being destroyed. Somebody to pass the information on so the rest of us would have some idea of what we were up against," Seraph replied.
Paul shifted uncomfortably before addressing him. “So, basically, you admit to being some sort of demigod. As a demigod, you sent your weakest people into danger. These people were supported by an elite team, not to assist them if needed, and not to get help if trouble came up, but to gain intelligence from it? So what? You just leave them to die, and then you do what? Send in another team?”
It was clear that Paul was struggling to maintain his composure amidst his anger and disappointment at the revelation.
Seraph glared back; he wasn't used to his decisions being challenged. Especially not the ones that saved more lives than it took. "Yes, I let them die, but they never died in vain. At that point, there wasn't much I could do but hear about what happened and then head out with some of the other legendary classes and take out the monsters. Then we would send out another team and repeat the process until we at least found the ability to shop, and then we worked our way from there."
"That's not acceptable!” yelled Paul as his blood pressure rose. “You don't just leave people to die. You don't send people to their deaths just because it makes your search easier. That's not the kind of man I raised you to be; that's not the kind of person you were meant to be. People die, and sometimes leaders have to make hard decisions, I get that. Making decisions can get people killed; that’s a fact that’s going to happen when you are a leader. But you also need to learn and think of ways to keep your people alive in spite of the odds. Do you understand?”
Seraph said nothing; it was not that he disagreed with the meaning behind what Paul said. Seraph disagreed because he didn’t fundamentally think it was reasonable or doable. Lives were currency to be used but not squandered. Seraph did not, and would not, waste the lives of his people when the life of a nobody was so readily available. All these thoughts he kept to himself before relenting with a, “Fine, agreed,” in hopes that Paul would drop the subject before they came to blows.
"Good. Now let's go find this ability shop," suggested Paul.
Chapter 16: Man Down
With Seraph having finally healed and the adverse effects of the Abyssal Ichor having worn off, the two men set off down the road in the only direction they could go. Their journey took them back down the beach towards the road leading away from the pier. The other course appeared impassable, with a giant roadway overhead and its concrete supports blocking the way.
An awkward silence settled between the two men as they ran out of things to say, neither wanting to shoulder the responsibility of trying to bridge the chasm that had been created between them. Both skittered around, avoiding further talk of their new life in the dungeon and how to best survive the coming years. A father and his son, neither sure anymore of the other, both questioning the limits of ties that bind and the limits of blood, wondering when enough was enough.
As they walked, Seraph was surprised by how easily he adapted to his new physique, the greater surprise being the gains his physique granted his attributes. While the actual stats remained the same, the effect they had on his power had changed. They were modified by a factor equal to the physique he held, magnifying his strength.
“Once we leave this beach, things are probably going to get dangerous quickly, so make sure your eyes and ears are open,” commented Paul, trudging through the sand as they neared the path heading away from the pier towards the city.
Wincing, Seraph heard Paul’s voice carry into the distance. “Watch the noise,” he said in a hushed whisper, holding his fingers to his mouth as he made the sound. “Yes, it’s going to get dangerous; we both know that. But what we don’t know is what we’re going to be up against out here. Let’s use non-verbals from here on out unless absolutely necessary.”
“Alright. My mistake,” Paul responded sullenly. “Let’s go with simple signs then and try not to break noise discipline.”
“It’s agreed then,” Seraph said, whispering. “So, given the proximity of the entrance to the dungeon being close to the beach, the shop should be nearby. I think we should try looking for the visitors’ center or the rest area for clues as to where the ability shop might be if it’s not there. Once we find it, we pick up the abilities we can and come back and buy the rest later,” explained Seraph.
Paul shook his head in disagreement. “Shouldn’t we be trying to find the exit instead? Maybe even just focus on leveling up and grinding? Sure, this ability shop sounds important—I get that I really do—but even if we get there first, how are we going to even buy something from this shop? I doubt we can just buy superpowers on credit?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Seraph brushed the comment off, not wanting to respond. It wasn’t on him to try and make Paul see differently. As much as he wanted the man on his side, Seraph wasn’t going to waste his time and energy trying to convince the man to follow his lead. “I’ve plenty of money—it's listed on your status screen as Sol. You should have some unless you managed to spend it all already on that sword and shield.”
The debate ended as soon as their boots hit the hard top of the path leading away from the pier. They didn’t see any signs pointing them in any specific direction, only the paved path that led the way through thick foliage, curving along against a sloped sand dune, the other side obscured past the palm trees. Without making any noise, the two of them walked. Treading carefully, aware that danger lurked everywhere.
On the other side of the dune, the path widened into a fenced asphalt parking lot. Scores of old broken-down vehicles sat uselessly on rotted tires and rusted hubcaps. As soon as both men stepped off the path and onto the asphalt, they felt a heaviness in the air. The sudden shift was deceptively subtle. It would have gone unnoticed if not for the hair standing up on the back of their necks, and the skin on their arms breaking out in gooseflesh. A low tension sat just at the edge of their perception. A sign of nearby enemies. Paul quietly put himself in the lead position, pulling out his sword and wooden shield, while Seraph released the Cat’s Claw from his wrist sheath and followed closely behind.
They walked in short small steps as they passed through the parking lot. Treading softly, careful to avoid stepping on any of the pieces of broken glass or accidentally kicking over any debris. Just as they tried to avoid debris, they also tried to avoid coming too close to the metal husks of the old vehicles. Each vehicle offered a hiding place for any number of monsters—vehicles which had been aged by time and rusted from the moisture
in the air, any hint of color long since gone replaced by that color of dried blood: rust.
At the far end of the parking lot was an opening in the fence that led outwards towards the city in the distance. But it was something else that caught Seraph’s attention as he rapped on Paul’s back to make sure the man noticed. Near the exit was a small building with a sign placed horizontally in front of it that read in faded nearly-white baby blue “Welcome to Gulf Beach.” They had found what they were looking for. The two men signaled to each other to head on over while watching each other's backs. Cautiously approaching the building, the feeling of unease and sense of tension never disappeared.
We’re being watched, Seraph realized as they approached the building, but the feeling he was getting didn’t originate from there.
Paul pressed his face against the dusty, yellowed glass of the door but couldn't make out any details of the inside. Seraph motioned towards the door and signed for Paul to stop. Seraph indicated he would go in first, and he wanted Paul to back him up. With raw nerves, Seraph gently pushed open the door, stepping into a long, dim hallway and looked around. To his left, he saw the hall ended with a pile of upturned cardboard boxes filled with old pamphlets. The hallway was lined with unreadable infographic posters and a door. Turning to his right, Seraph saw the hall opened up into what was either a waiting area or lobby.
Peeking his head back out the door, Seraph turned to Paul and motioned to follow him into the building. Neither took their safety for granted as they walked down the hallway, ignoring the half-melted and withered plastic plants that had once decorated the hall. Walking as carefully as they could, they approached the lobby. Even though Seraph could see large windows, light barely shone through the thick dust that now covered them.