It's not wrong to make Friends in the Dungeon (Danmachi / Sanctioned [Worm])

Alivaril · Dec 16, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

Author's Note: This was originally compiled in my snippet thread, but was getting too large to keep it there. It's also closer to "crack treated seriously" or "crack played straight" than Sanctioned was, but I'm having a lot of fun with it anyway. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Knowledge of Sanctioned beyond the first story-post or two (~800 words) isn't actually required, but would likely help. Hopefully, no prior knowledge of Danmachi should be necessary. EDIT: However, from chapter 17+ of this, some background of canon might be spoiled for you.

Chapter 17-18 AN: This story doesn't have anything even vaguely resembling the canon plotline; it took this long before I even needed to tag the thread with "Spoilers." Even then, it's because of a setting detail instead of a plot event. Danmachi's protagonist has yet to so much as show up.

Perfectly Human Productions Presents
Something literally nobody asked for:

It's not wrong to make Friends in the Dungeon
(Danmachi / Sanctioned [Worm])

The girl with no name sat in her meadow and pondered the unfairness of life. Her guest-self hadn't done anything wrong, had done an adequate job taking care of the girl's body in her absence, and still life kicked her while she was down. Eating black flowers could do nothing for her mood; she couldn't forget someone who'd raised her since her birth, if rather poorly at times.

Their father had gone missing from his workplace some week prior for no discernible reason. Both the nameless dreamer and her guest had scoured the world in their search for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Searching nearby dimensions revealed him on a peaceful, almost entirely Cape-free world with no memory of her whatsoever. That meant the support of one of her guest-self's relatives, she knew. She also knew better than to think she could reverse the process; the memories had been destroyed, not suppressed. She could make a Danny Hebert that loved her, but he wouldn't be hers. And frankly, he was happier there. The Broken Bay was thriving, not broken, and she kept seeing him make icky eyes at one of his coworkers. They could take all that away, but it would be a hollow claim.

The nameless girl's guest-self had considered literally ripping apart the world to get revenge, which was endearing in the same manner that an axe murderer killing one's bullies was cute. They might technically be doing it for your sake, but it's still not something desirable. If they couldn't, wouldn't, claim her old family, then they needed to find a new one, not make others suffer to fill the void in their hearts. They needed a family with a parent who wouldn't die, was far enough away to avoid whoever originally adjusted Danny's memories in the first place, and would value her guest-self's abilities. A place closer to a story than real life.

Her guest-self knew of such a world, and through her, so did the dreamer. Accessing it would break a few rules, but what the guest didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Queen Administrator blinked awake somewhere she definitely did not remember resting in. Admittedly, human memories were unreliable enough to render that an inadequate reason for alarm, but she would not have been so stupid as to rest on hard dirt. It would ruin Host's clothes and cause uncomfortable damage to much of her body.

Host, she thought plaintively. It's hard to keep you safe when you're doing this sort of thing. If you're going to hijack my subprocesses, at least let me be awake to watch! I can't gather any data like this!

A flicker of amusement indicated that her request was, as usual, both heard and ignored. Still, Queen Administrator was happy when Host was happy, so she'd accept the small victory. Amusement felt nice.

The shard-turned-human sat upright and looked around curiously. She appeared to have been left somewhere on the outskirts of a human medieval reenactment site. Host was still wearing the fuzzy white-and-black bunny pajamas Queen Administrator had gone to sleep in, but someone — probably Host — had added a white cowl while she slept. Translation, it whispered.

"Why is it called 'falling flat?" she immediately asked aloud, hoping the last two words would be expanded into a superior explanation. None was forthcoming.

Hoooooost, if I need a full-time translator to be here, I probably won't be able to use any of your knowledge! Can you put us somewhere else?

The lack of a scenery change was answer enough.

Queen Administrator didn't think she liked this world. It had all the trappings of one affected by her siblings — unusual creature subtypes, effects without enough of a framework for the cause, odd technological trends, and a heavily armed populace — but she couldn't hear anyone. Her curious pings continued into the void without even bouncing off an antisocial cousin. She saw plenty of humans with animal traits, pointed ears, unnatural hair colors, and so on, but nobody worth conversing with. She was surrounded by non-hosts and didn't care for it in the slightest. The intrusive shouts of those hawking their wares certainly didn't help any; more than once, she was tempted to remove her cowl and force their words into incomprehensibly. Only being able to focus on one input at a time was infuriating! How was she supposed to gather information like that?

"—So I turn around and there's this huge spider just crawling—"

"Guide pamphlets for new adventurers, only fifty valis!"

"—Dumbass supporter froze up and—"

"—More for an armor upgrade, please? Help a—"

At least they seemed perfectly content to ignore Host in turn. Her lack of proper public attire hardly seemed to be attracting any attention at all. Plenty of other people on the stone streets were wearing even more outlandish patterns of colorful thread and unusual patterns. It was a pleasant change from the drab outfits of Host's home city, she'd give them that much.

"—Their beer tastes like watered-down—"

"Discount potions with prices starting as low as 450 valis!"

"—Low-class adventurers, right? Always convinced—"

"—Bastards went and hogged the whole floor—"

As she wandered the streets in the vague semblance of a search pattern, Queen Administrator slowly gathered information through simple osmosis. Her current location was called the Labyrinth City Orario, the home of so-called 'Adventurers.' Adventurers seemed to be similar to hosts, but they only fought artificial enemies within an underground complex. Enemies seldom wandered from their original spawning points, presumably making innovation horrifyingly uncommon. Conflicts between hosts encouraged variety in order to survive. Industrialized combat... didn't.

"—Getting uppity again. Bunch of—"

"—Overcompensated any more and he'd fall over—"

"—Idiot couldn't even say what floor it was—"

The more she learned, however, the more confusing the city became. Queen Administrator couldn't hear or sense any of her relatives, but the feats she saw were only possible via the intervention of background manipulation. Rhythmic words did not light fires on their own, and humans did not inherently break their limits by killing their foes. She could only conclude that Host had brought her to one of :MOTHER:'s ongoing experimental sites. Possibly a place where one shard empowered significant parts of a world instead of only one host? Such a practice would allow greater exploitation of otherwise-underutilized dimensions. Still, that didn't mean she wanted to be somewhere so boring.

Host? Queen Administrator ventured. I know Danny Hebert's status upset you, but bringing me somewhere frustrating won't solve anything. Taking joy in my suffering is mean.

Host's flicker of exasperation was remarkably reassuring. Host wasn't just trying to be mean, it seemed. If Host were a normal biological Innovator, QA would suspect her of wanting to utilize underground monsters for new Friends, but Host was the one to recently bar her from shapeshifting. All she had to do was undo that arbitrary restriction and they'd have massive amounts of usable biomass once more. Was her apparent reluctance a human quirk? She supposed Host might've been getting sick of draining her own blood, replenishing supply or not. QA had seen stranger beliefs among host species.

...You're getting hungry, Host. Can we go somewhere with accessible food now? I know you don't like theft, but it may be necessary if we stay here.

Hestia tried not to stare at the child silently watching her from the opposite side of the street. The bunny-covered clothes only provided an excuse for the first couple seconds; after that, Hestia had no excuse for her continued inspection. Aside from the fact that the girl was still there, anyway. It was unusual to see someone stay in one place for so long without either a begging bowl or something to sell. The girl seemingly had neither.

Hestia had even turned her back on the potato croquettes she was selling to see if Miss Lurker would take the chance to steal some. She hadn't. She just stood there, her eyes firmly fixed on Hestia.

Is she even blink–oh, there it is.

Hestia had to right down the urge to scream when, after well over an hour, the child finally moved to approach her, navigating the crowd with grace comparable to Loki after a night of binge-drinking. Hestia almost lost sight of her before the child managed to inch her way into opposing traffic and make her way back toward Hestia.

Definitely new to Orario.

Hestia was about to open her mouth to ask what the child needed when the girl stopped before her stall and spoke up instead, looming over Hestia in a manner she was unfortunately familiar with.

"It is likely unwise for you to be here alone," the girl declared, her words devoid of tone, inflection, and even emphasis. It was too bad; she could've had a nice voice if her misuse of it wasn't sending shivers down Hestia's spine.

Hestia's face froze, her saleswoman's smile warring with confusion for dominance. She'd been mistaken for a human child more times than she could count, but it was almost always from a distance. She didn't have the most imposing aura, but really? As close as Miss Monotone was, she should've been able to sense something. Still, the girl meant well and it was possible she was referring to Hestia's divine status. Few newcomers expected a goddess to be out selling cheap food on the street.

"Is there a reason I wouldn't be, miss…?" Hestia ventured anyway.

The girl tilted her head far enough for her long black hair to cover her face and eyes — in other words, far enough to be uncomfortable and then some. Anyone else would've brushed the hair away from their eyes with alacrity. The child didn't. Between the girl's unnatural stillness and her refusal to speak normally, Hestia was pretty sure they'd started to attract two or three curious watchers.

"My former guardian advised against navigating cities without a full swarm to protect me," the girl replied in her same eerie monotone. "You do not have a swarm."

Swarm? Hestia had heard of a few elves using bees as escorts, but this girl was clearly human and didn't appear to be taking her own advice. She might've been able to fit a few insects under her clothes, but nothing worthy of being called a 'swarm.'

...Probably human, Hestia amended. On the outside, at the very least.

"You do not have even one Friend," Miss Monotone continued, seemingly oblivious to both Hestia's confusion and the sheer insensitivity of such a statement.

One of the loitering adventurers winced sympathetically, flashed Hestia a nervous smile, and vanished into the crowd. Hestia tried to fight her own stab of pain with the existence of her few friends among the descended gods and goddesses, but the girl was close to right. Hestia didn't really have mortal friends; her Familia was supposed to provide those and it was empty.

"Would you like one?" the child asked, raising her pitch in what could, if one were charitable, be considered a vaguely quizzical manner.

Someone burst out laughing nearby. Hestia was tempted to join them, if with significantly more hysterical undertones. She'd expected a hungry child; this confusing helix of a conversation was so far outside her expectations that she half expected it to be a dream. Still, as a loose pebble dug uncomfortably into Hestia's foot and Miss Monotone continued to silently stare through her own hair, Hestia slowly came to accept that she was, in fact, awake. Unfortunately, that meant Hestia had to ask a rather important question; given how long the girl had waited before approaching, she might have wanted to be lurker-buddies or something else strange.

"...Sure? I can't tell if that was an offer to join my Familia or not, though. You can if you want to!"

This time, she seemed to have been the one to catch Miss Monotone by surprise. The girl jerked her head into a normal upright angle, her eyebrows twitching, and silently stared at Hestia for several long moments. Eventually, the girl conjured the single creepiest smile Hestia had seen outside Freya and Ishtar's passive-aggressive staring contests. One could almost view the expression as pure — that is, if a pure smile was one untainted by what smiles were meant to look like. It was just subtly wrong.

"I tentatively accept your invitation," the girl said, her emotionless tone exchanged for one that (poorly) hinted at happiness.

Under any other circumstances, Hestia would probably be thrilled. Right now, though? Right now she could only wonder if she'd made some horrible mistake…

"However," the child continued, the happiness replaced by the same vaguely questioning tone as before. "Would you detail what a 'Familia' is?"

…And realize she still didn't know the child's name.

Alivaril · Dec 16, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

The pseudo-host Hestia was proving to be an exceptionally useful source of information, if one who was alarmingly willing to accept a complete stranger into her social circles. It wasn't until after she'd issued her invitation that the pseudo-host had even gotten around to introducing herself and asking for Host's name in return. Another likely social slip was her odd expression when Queen Administrator had introduced Taylor Hebert. Unless QA was very much mistaken, reacting to a human name with anything other than acceptance was rather rude.

Asking about that social misstep may be wise once we're in a more private location.

At any rate, it seemed as though Hestia's "Familia" was not, in fact, a branch of a local crime syndicate. Queen Administrator couldn't decide if this disappointed her or not.

"A god's Familia is exactly that: their family," Hestia explained. "One that gods and their children choose. Originally, the gods gathered Familia members so they'd have a way of keeping score; having a strong Familia with powerful members was something to be proud of, and the heroic feats of a few individuals brought honor to the whole family. A lot of gods still think of their Familia as something used for bragging rights, but... well, you'll be my first member, but all of my friends say that Familia members grow on us and each other. Takemikazuchi said that love is inevitable when you're supporting one another through life-threatening situations."

Hestia absentmindedly accepted the payment from a customer and passed them a small wrapped package in return. Queen Administrator rather hoped Hestia would share any leftovers; Host's hunger was only growing more intrusive as time went on.

"That's what I think a Familia is meant for: support. I can grant you the Falna and do my best to provide a welcoming hearth, but I can't fight beside you. That's one of the conditions for coming down from Heaven: we're only allowed to use our powers in a few specific ways. We get sent back if we break that rule."

Host, I know your memory sucks, so please help me with that! Pseudo-host methods of waging war seem as though they'll be important.

Queen Administrator doesn't even receive a sleepy refusal.

You're not going to help with that, are you? You know it's harder to preserve your body like this, don't you?

"Not that you need to be an adventurer or anything! I'm just happy to have the company. A-and if you do become an adventurer, you can't just go charging off, okay? I'm sure I can ask Hephaestus for someone to help you until you know a bit more. Maybe to teach you how to fight, too? I've heard good technique is supposed to be important, but I don't actually know what that means…"

Hiding behind a swarm of Friends while they rip the enemy to shreds?

"Um, you are still listening, aren't you?"

"I am," Queen Administrator confirmed. "If additional participation is required: Could you please explain the 'Falna?'"

Hestia once again shivered despite the comfortably warm weather. QA made a mental note to review a blood sample later; she didn't yet know if pseudo-hosts could get sick, but it seemed likely. Life always found a way and QA would be most displeased if Host lost another family member.

"R-right. You might know it under the name 'God's Grace?' Or maybe their blessing?"

"I do not."

"Oh. Well, the Falna is…" Hestia hesitated for several seconds, likely taking the time to reduce the complexity of her explanation. "You know how it's easier to fill a bath with a bucket than with one hand? The Falna is a little like that. Mortals can try to grow strong without its help, but they'll only get so far on their own before they collapse. The Falna translates the excelia from experiences and foes into… not a stronger blessing, but more personal strength? It's hard to explain."

"It initially empowers us and allows both a rate of power growth and a limit of power that normal humans can't attain?"

Hestia twitches and seemingly scans the area for foes.

"Um, not just humans. Mortals in general. And yes, that's close enough. There's also leveling to worry about. Your growth will start to slow down after a while—for most people, a few years. Once you get at least rank D in a Basic Ability, then performing a feat on the edge of your current limit will make that the new baseline for your growth. Does that make sense…? This is my first time explaining it."

Ah. QA had been viewing her current world incorrectly. It was likely an optimization ground for Newborn wishing to see the heights of a few specific ideas, not a full-fledged research world. She definitely approved; if Escalation had played with more ideas before settling on his Concept, then perhaps he wouldn't have grown into such an unbelievably huge moron.

…Host? Why are you amused? It's an excellent explanation! Oh, or are you laughing at Escalation? Never mind, that's okay.

"Leveling resets the soft caps on power growth," QA summarized. "Is there anything else important?"

"I'm missing a lot," Hestia admitted, "But the Guild's advisors can help answer most of your other questions. They're actually trained for this sort of thing. Um, I mentioned Basic Abilities already, but there are also skills and Development Abilities to worry about. You can technically pick one Development Ability when you level up, but if you haven't unlocked any of them, that chance goes entirely to waste. Abnormal Resistance, for example, is provided as an option if you've often needed to resist poisons. The level-two exclusive ability Hunter, which provides bonuses against anything you've killed before, is unlocked by killing a disqualifyingly large number of monsters in a short period of time. You should ask your advisor about that later; I know some adventurers have an easier time unlocking something if they're specifically aiming for—"

The noises from Host's stomach finally managed to overcome the ambient noise levels from the surrounding city. Hestia immediately went silent, her face twisting with… shame? Guilt? Whichever it is, QA suspected it was an emotion useful to her. That impression was seemingly confirmed when the pseudo-host began piling several fried potato foodstuffs into a napkin.

"When was the last time you ate?" Hestia demanded.

QA tries to consult her unreliable memory. Not the prior night or afternoon, she knew that much; Host's stomach was too upset for them to stomach solid food. They'd consumed broth at the time, but Queen Administrator was pretty sure that counted as drinking, not eating. She couldn't remember if she'd eaten the previous morning or not.

"I don't know?" Queen Administrator answered truthfully. She could guess, but that didn't seem as likely to get her fed.

Hestia shoved the pile of fried foodstuffs into Host's hands and began to cook several fresh samples of the same.

"Tell me when you're hungry," the pseudo-host ordered firmly. "I can't do much to support you, but a child of mine should never hide an empty stomach. We're doing better than that, at least."

Queen Administrator bit into her delicious spoils, felt her mouth bending into an expression of happiness, and began happily devouring all that she was offered. Apparently, height and ability to provide for family members were not directly correlated.

Hestia had insisted on walking Host home when Host had started showing signs of imminent hibernation. Abandoning her duties prematurely did not appear to be concerning for her, something Queen Administrator found irresponsible. Host seemed happy about it, though, so she'd accept the concern without complaint.

Admittedly, Queen Administrator wasn't quite sure how they'd gone from "getting Host home" to "laying in one of the poorly-lit rooms of an abandoned church while Hestia drew on her now-bare back." As Host didn't seem alarmed by the situation, QA did her utmost to avoid any additional unease. However, as a creature of learning, there was only so long Queen Administrator could lay in silence. She felt managing a minute was impressive enough.

"I believe 'skills' were mentioned?"

"Hmm?" Hestia said, audibly distracted. "Oh. Don't worry, they're not something you need to worry about. They're very rare and I don't think there's any real way to deliberately unlock them. They just… show up. Like any other part of the Falna, a skill is based on the traits of the person it's drawn from, yet there aren't a thousand people running around with 'Monster Slayer.' I think that the stronger you are, the better your chances of getting one, but…"

Hestia trailed off, but not in a manner indicating uncertainty. Queen Administrator was fairly confident it was the silence of surprise, not of assembling an explanation. Hestia's brief hesitation before she continued drawing only seemed to reinforce that idea.

"Taylor," Hestia began carefully. "I promise I'm not mad."

People only ever say that when they're mad, Host whispers sleepily.

"That being said, could you please explain what this 'Soul Duality' skill is supposed to be, or how I apparently have two children now? And have I been talking to Taylor Hebert, Queen Administrator, or both of you?"

…Uh-oh. Um, Host? If you're lucid right now, could you please provide a little help?

Host's evil laughter as she deliberately sank into dreaming wasn't even the slightest bit encouraging.

Hooooost! Why?

Alivaril · Dec 16, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

Hestia couldn't remember a time when she'd felt as guilty as she did right then. She'd doubted the kindhearted child — no, the children — who'd offered to join her pitiful Familia just because they didn't behave how she expected. And now the explanation for their odd behavior was staring right at her. Who wouldn't act a little off if they had to spend half their time dreaming while another soul controlled their shared body?

...Actually, Hestia might've just described sleep cycles in general. Maybe the explanation for their behavior wasn't as horrifying as all that. Still! That didn't change how she'd wronged her two new children before they even fully joined.

"I'm sorry!" Hestia burst out. "I'm not handling this very well at all, am I? Listen, you don't need to tell me why you're like this, okay? I just want you to know that I know and I don't blame you for it. Just tell me when you switch off so I know which name to use, please? Then again, if we're in public, maybe we should stick with one...? Or nicknames for both so neither of you feels neglected?"

Of course, Hestia already thought she knew who to blame: the gods, herself included. They'd started shirking their responsibilities en masse without anyone to truly replace them. Even the gods made mistakes when they were overworked and stressed enough; was it any surprise that a single vessel had ended up with two souls assigned to it? Definitely not. The only surprising part was that they'd managed to survive at all.

Maybe the gods should start delegating some responsibilities to dead mortals after all. Hestia had always thought the people claiming that were a bunch of lazy weirdos, but after seeing this, she was beginning to think they might have a point. Unfortunately, she didn't think she could use this incident to show that reform was necessary. Taylor and Administrator's shared Status was nothing short of absurd; Hestia knew more than a few gods who'd deliberately cram extra souls into humans if they thought it would let them replicate it.

Queen Administrator
Taylor Hebert
Lv. 1
Strength: I 0
Endurance: I 0
Dexterity: I 0
Agility: I 0
Magic: I 0

Magic:

None.

Skills:

Soul Duality: Receives twice the benefit from the Falna in most situations. Whichever soul is not in control can still influence the other, including lending or withholding aid according to her whims.

Friendship is Biology: Can make new Friends from the raw materials provided by foes.

Melpomene: Views the world differently than they should. Protects against some thought-influencing effects.

At least their Status came with its own concealment. Between Hestia's less-than-perfect handwriting and the fact that it was shifting? It would take more than a passing glance for anyone to make out any details. She didn't much care for one of the alternative descriptions of Melpomene she'd found, though: Is insane. Will ignore attempts to impose variables contradicting current worldview. It... well, it might actually be true, but Hestia really didn't like the how harsh the word insane sounded. It made it seem like their state was their own fault, not something they were coping with as best they could.

Admittedly, she wasn't at all sure what she should make of Friendship is Biology. Could her children tame dead monsters? The emphasis on Friend showed it to be some sort of title, one Hestia suspected was what her children had intended to offer her in the first place. Some kind of artificial insect-minion, perhaps? That would explain the "swarm" comment and hinted toward it being something predating the Falna. Something to ask about later, she felt.

"Queen Administrator," Hestia's child answered shakily, their nervousness obvious despite her near-monotone. It took Hestia a moment to remember why her child would suddenly name herself: the goddess had asked who she'd been talking to. "Taylor was hurt and seldom comes out."

Her next words had a trace of childish petulance that Hestia doubted the girl deliberately inserted. Unfortunately, the even rhythm of her words was just as abnormal as it usually was. Hestia would've expected more than a little frustrated emphasis, but none was forthcoming. Hestia found herself mentally editing Administrator's delivery just to make it sound less like some sort of lecture.

"I'm supposed to be the observer, but Ho—Taylor doesn't seem to be in any hurry to get better; she even deliberately left me for this conversation. And she laughed on her way out, too! It was mean. I'd support her if she was the one in control!"

Home? Hestia wondered, bemused. It was an odd nickname for someone else, but perhaps it was appropriate if their dynamic was as lopsided as it sounded. No wonder Queen Administrator was so odd; if she'd spent all their life with Taylor in control, then she'd be starting from scratch as far as expressing emotion was concerned. They were probably lucky she could even walk and talk. Still, even if that mention of teasing laughter was promising, she really didn't like the idea of something that could convince someone to hide in dreams instead of confronting life. Her imagination produced a short list and all of the entries were horrifying.

(The dreamer happily feasted on imaginary foods as she watched her new daytime drama, oblivious to Hestia's fears.)

"Can I help?" Hestia asked gently.

Administrator exhaled in what was probably supposed to be an unhappy huff or a sigh. It sounded more like a cough instead.

How am I supposed to teach someone to act normally? Hestia wondered. People are supposed to just pick it up on their own, aren't they? She'd wanted to be a parent to her Familia, but they came partly grown by that point! How did mortal parents usually start from scratch?

Hestia bit her lip and tried to think of behavior-related classes. Etiquette, maybe? With a name like Queen Administrator, odds were good that she idolized nobility and royalty. As far as Hestia knew, titles usually didn't show on the Falna; in this case, "Queen" was clearly as much of a name as "Administrator."

Unfortunately, they simply couldn't afford such lessons. Absurd potential she might have, but Administrator was still just a child with no combat experience or training. Hestia imagined Friendship is Biology would help some, but how helpful would something powered by a goblin really be? The Dungeon already did all it could to eke power out of their cores. Hestia imagined it'd be like having one or two extra party members that her children didn't need to keep alive: helpful in combat and definitely powerful, but by no means something capable of rendering her invincible.

Either way, the end result was that Administrator wouldn't be able to make enough extra money for lessons within any sane timeframe. All of her adventuring income should go toward new weapons, armor, and equipment, not social lessons.

"If you explained how we got caught?"

Hestia noticed the dodge, but chose to let it pass anyway. She'd do what she could to coax out more details as they got to know her. Until then, she'd try not to drive her children away by bringing up past pain.

"Gods can tell when they're being lied to. When you said your name was Taylor Hebert, that came across as both truthful and a lie. I've never heard that happen before; even titles are different facets of the same truth. That had me wondering, but I didn't suspect anything until I drew out overlapping names on your Falna and saw Soul Duality. I wouldn't worry about anyone else finding out."

Queen Administrator relaxed from the stiffened pose she'd apparently been holding. Hestia hadn't even noticed; with the rest of Administrator's irregular behavior, it was just one more thing on the pile.

"Being like this isn't either of your faults," Hestia began uncomfortably. "And I would've loved to—with your permission—use you as an example to make sure it doesn't happen again. We can't, though. Gods descended from heaven specifically to see new and interesting things. You?"

Hestia finished writing her summary of her children's status and passed it to them.

"They would all want you for their Familia."

She wondered if the implications of Administrator's status would be as obvious as she hoped they would be. Her children had just been introduced to the Falna in the first place; it might take a little explaining. Hestia wouldn't mind. The longer she was able to converse without Administrator getting upset, the smaller Hestia's ball of guilt became. She'd just need to remember not to judge others by their outward appearance. Really, Ishtar should've already taught her that lesson. She was at once one of the (allegedly) most beautiful goddesses around and the rumored queen of the seedier parts of the red light district. Hestia still remembered the humiliation of being publicly offered a job by that witch. Hestia was sure it hadn't been serious; the alleged offer had been made in the interests of malice and had perfectly accomplished its intended purpose.

"I assume my status is unusually good," Administrator said eventually, drawing Hestia back to the happier—if surreal—present.

"It's unprecedented," Hestia agreed. "'Twice the Falna's benefits' is open to interpretation, but even in the most pessimistic interpretation of it only doubling your rate of growth? That's still the most powerful skill I've ever heard of."

Plausibly, anyway. She'd heard rumors of stronger while she was up in heaven, but facts tended to be a bit distorted during story time. At the very least, it was stronger than any she'd heard of since descending. If 'doubled benefits' included such things as selecting two Development Abilities upon level-up? It would definitely be the strongest she'd ever known.

"Having two extra skills on top of that? It means you have more than most level threes. You absolutely can't tell anyone else, understand? Not even if they're trying to lord their supposed superiority over you. Proving them wrong isn't worth it."

She expected Administrator to understand the implications of her words and possibly promise to heed them. Failing that, Hestia wouldn't be surprised by excitement; even with the possible consequences, who wouldn't be happy with unprecedented potential? What she didn't expect was smugness.

"I am a Monarch," Queen Administrator sniffed, almost managing a normal haughty tone without issue. "Excellence is only to be expected."

Hestia quirked her eyebrows behind Administrator's back. My new child is adorably arrogant, huh? Still, the Administrator's apparent tendency to flip between childishness and formal seriousness was honestly fun to watch once you pushed past the creepy monotone. Was she trying to imitate Taylor, or just doing a poor job of maintaining a serious demeanor?

"About that. Why does Taylor have a normal name while yours sounds more like a title? And do you prefer to be called Queen or Administrator?"

"I can't tell you that," Administrator replied immediately, her attempt at an apologetic tone making her sound more confused than anything else. Or maybe she didn't know and was actually confused? "'Administrator' is preferable. Queue-A is acceptable if expedited communications are being attempted, but I would ask that others also receive abbreviated names in such a situation."

Only abbreviate mine if other names are also abbreviated, Hestia mentally translated.

"Regardless, I no longer feel like napping," Administrator declared in an endearingly blatant attempt to change the subject. "Where are these 'advisors' you mentioned? I have questions for them."

The dreamer couldn't decide if she was disappointed or relieved that her guest-self hadn't actually fought with their new family member. Disappointed because she didn't get an amusing show out of any ensuing drama. Relieved because drama in a family was seldom good. Averaging out her thoughts and settling on ambivalent seemed reasonable.

Hearing the shortie warn her guest-self to be careful and stay under the radar, though? That made the lack of prior drama 200% acceptable. Twice the percentage, twice the entertainment value. Fighters around here simply weren't familiar with the sorts of Friends her guest-self liked to make. A higher level might get away with it, but a level one neophyte? There was no way that would pass without notice. That took care of the first part of the dreamer's diabolical scheme: swarms of cute, fuzzy animals to rip her enemies apart.

Part two was rather slower to mature. The dreamer was willing to admit that her guest-self was better at experimental analysis than she was. A bunch of the hijacked routines did all the work for her, yet the remainder forced her to analyze her target through sheer guesswork and the time-honored process known as "winging it." But once she got the "magic" part down?

Magical Girl Queen Administrator is about to start!

Alivaril · Dec 16, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

Hestia stared at her steaming cup of tea and silently wished it was hard alcohol. The Goddess of Smithing and leader of Orario's most lauded crafting Familia, Hephaestus, sat across from her and eyed Hestia with a bemused expression. Hestia felt they'd known each other for long enough for her to suspect what Hestia was thinking.

Hestia couldn't decide if she was irked or glad that her friend refused to aid any sort of ongoing drinking habit. They both knew it wasn't any sort of long-term solution, but that didn't mean Hestia didn't want to indulge. Avoiding alcoholism was harder when she couldn't just use her Arcanum to reset her body at will.

"I found my first Familia member," Hestia said eventually.

Hephaestus's expression shifted to uncomfortable pity with a speed Hestia loathed. The goddess of the hearth knew she'd relied an awful lot on Hephaestus since descending from heaven—Hestia was even living in a church her friend was willing to rent out at a vastly discounted rate—but was that really Hephaestus's first reaction? Not even a "congratulations?" Couldn't Hestia show up for some actual advice now and again?

"If this is about equipping them, you should know that I can't. Your Familia would never escape from my shadow if you keep relying on me; everyone would say–"

"It's not that," Hestia interrupted. "It's–"

She glanced around furtively.

"Could you lock the door, please?"

Hephaestus raised one eyebrow. The other was concealed behind the massive black eyepatch covering a full third of her face.

"I did that as soon as you showed up looking like you wanted to drown your sorrows. Did your new child bring trouble with them?"

Hestia grimaced, sipping from her tea while she marshaled her courage.

"Of a sort. I'm glad I took her in and she's the sweetest child, but there's—well, she's terrible at acting like a person. She always talks at the same rate, speaks in an emotionless monotone most of the time, can't manage to convey the right emotion even when she seems to realize a tone would be helpful, and has a smile untainted by ideas of what a smile is supposed to look like. She just comes across as wrong."

Hephaestus's expression grew increasingly thoughtful as the description continued. Thankfully, she didn't appear alarmed.

"It's too bad Psyche hasn't descended yet," Hephaestus sighed, her eye fixed on the swirling steam of her tea. "What you're describing sounds like 'flat affect,' a mortal mental problem. If you and Loki weren't on such terrible terms, I'd recommend asking her children if the mortal races have found any sort of treatment for it yet."

Hestia stifled a hysterical giggle and silently thanked Psyche, Goddess of the Soul, for staying up in Heaven. Hestia didn't want to think ill of a friend's friend, but a mistake from Psyche might be why her children were like this in the first place. Having her descend might make the problem even worse.

"It's not that," Hestia denied. "We talked and I learned she just needs to learn it herself. She's very consistent in her attempts to express emotions; she's just consistently showing them wrong. The problem is that I'm not sure how to teach her. I thought about etiquette classes, but..."

Hestia shook her head and took an undignified swig of her tea. The fleeting taste passed through without ever registering to her conscious mind.

"The other problem is a skill, Melpomene," Hestia continued. "It had two possible translations and they're both uncomfortable. First, and the one I showed her: 'Views the world differently than they should. Protects against some thought-influencing effects.' The second? 'Is insane. Will ignore attempts to impose variables contradicting current worldview.' I should be happy about her having a skill as soon as she got the Falna, but how can I be happy about that? It seems like the harmless kind of insanity that the ancient seers often had, but it's still a Falna-acknowledged problem!"

Hephaestus blinked and sipped her tea in what was clearly an excuse to let her delay answering, the conversation clearly having gone in a direction she wasn't expecting. Hestia's recent experiences with Administrator left her more familiar with the feeling than she'd prefer.

"Do what you can to treat the insanity and view the defense as the boon it is," Hephaestus eventually replied. "Skills merely provide a beneficial enhancement based on traits their owner already possessed. Not all skills last a mortal's full career; plenty of them are contingent on a goal they wish to reach or a trait they later lose. It isn't uncommon for other skills to take their place when lost, either."

"And her expression issues?" Hestia worried aloud. "I'm worried other adventurers will avoid her like—" I almost did. "—Like she's going to follow them home and knife them in their sleep."

"That seems oddly specific."

Hestia ignored the attempt at a joke and continued pouring out her worries.

"She silently watched me on the street for over an hour before coming to worry about my safety and ask if I wanted a friend, and even then I was suspicious! The skill said she didn't see the world the right way; how is that manifesting? The problems with expression are weird, but they don't explain that! What if she tries to befriend someone who'd hurt her? Or—"

"Hestia," Hephaestus interrupted sternly. "Breathe."

Hestia ignored the order and settled for effectively inhaling her tea instead.

"The Dungeon isn't safe enough for me to promise she'll be alright," Hephaestus continued. "But I can ask a few of my Familia if any of them would be willing to watch her for a few days and teach her how to survive on the first floor. She'll need to pursue further lessons on her own, but that should keep her from freezing the first time she's ever in danger."

Hestia went from metaphorically inhaling her tea to literally inhaling it. Part of why she'd come was to ask for exactly that, but she didn't want to risk her friendship after Hephaestus's first reaction was to assume Hestia had stopped by to ask for something. Hephaestus properly interpreted her spluttering as surprise, but seemed to completely miss the underlying reason. Hestia chose not to enlighten her.

"You've been an unrepentant freeloader lately, Hestia, but we are still friends. I should at least help you take care of a sick Familia member until you can manage on your own."

The population growth rate of Hestia's warm fuzzies was significantly curtailed by Hephaestus's subsequent stern words.

"And you will manage it on your own. Being the goddess of hearth and home is no excuse for being lazy."

"Says the woman who thinks a fire is something used for making weapons," Hestia grumbled.

"What was that?" Hephaestus asked with poisonous sweetness.

"Nothing!"

At the Guild's main hall, the so-called "Pantheon," Queen Administrator had expected to find a marvelous collection of scholars worthy of more notice and consideration than non-hosts usually deserved. Their structure was suitably splendid for housing such individuals; colorful banners covered the walls, grids of metal bars reinforced the windows and doors, the attendants behind the counters wore adequately attractive uniforms, and those in charge of cleaning the room managed admirably despite the bloodstained brutes wandering its halls.

Contrary to her expectations, QA found that she loathed the Guild for one specific reason: the wait. Being family members and friends with pseudo-hosts was one thing, but why did all the non-host adventurers get to go before her? Unlike them, she was important! Still, Hestia had implied that drawing too much attention would be bad, so she'd settle for impatiently waiting with all the non-hosts. Danny Hebert had also previously claimed that demanding attention provided an excellent excuse for non-hosts to be as rude as possible. No, Queen Administrator would be perfectly polite until someone gave her an adequate excuse not to be.

"Next!"

Still, she had more than enough time to exhaust every possible avenue of effective information-gathering and then some. Apparently, the Guild acted as the primary government entity within Orario and received taxes to that effect. Monthly taxes on a Familia were based on the levels of members and an additional fee was taken for the exchange of Magic Stones and other monster-harvested materials. Those materials were used to create armor, weaponry, equipment, and numerous civilian items intended for general quality of life improvements.

The line she was in was meant for registering with the Guild, updating one's records, recording official complaints, and delivering paperwork. The vast majority of the rest of the hall was dedicated toward actually allowing adventurers to exchange their daily hauls for the local currency, "valis." Adventurers could choose to receive hard cash, add it to their personal account, donate it to their Familia's account, or pay off outstanding debts. Few adventurers opted to give anything to their Familia; it seemed that only the gods and their lieutenants could access such accounts. Queen Administrator would normally take their reticence as a sign of the inferiority and selfishness of non-hosts, but from what Hestia said, it seemed as though plenty of pseudo-hosts were irresponsible idiots.

"Next!"

Speaking of pseudo-hosts, Queen Administrator was starting to think that this world was intended to teach some kind of lesson with regards to the proper exploitation of non-hosts. True hosts didn't exist, most pseudo-hosts were apparently worse than useless, and empowerment of non-hosts was the only way to progress in society.

"Next!"

Queen Administrator blinked, realized there was nobody in front of her, and hurried forward. The pointy-eared female human variant behind the desk only came up to Host's shoulder, something that seemed oddly useful for a desk job. She wouldn't need to bend over to review paperwork that way.

"Purpose?" the non-host asked politely.

"Registration with the Guild," Queen Administrator promptly answered.

The non-host twitched, a reaction that seemed to be recurring among the local populace. QA was starting to worry that the translation effect of her cowl may have come with side effects.

Oh, Host? I know it's breaking the rules just a teensy tiny bit, but since you don't seem to care about them anyway, could you please toggle the translate function so it's always on? Your hair is starting to itch under your hat and I don't want to be forced to wear it all the time.

"Name?" the non-host insisted. Queen Administrator blinked and realized it was the third time she'd been asked.

"I apologize for my inattention." She wouldn't say she was sorry. She wasn't. "I am Taylor Hebert."

The attendant scribbled it down without even asking for the spelling. It was probably just as well; Queen Administrator wouldn't know how to spell it in their language.

"Race?"

Monarch.

"Human."

"God?"

"Hestia."

The attendant paused and looked up at Host.

"New Familia?" she guessed.

"Yes."

"Mm." The attendant scribbled down Hestia's name before reaching under her desk and producing a large white envelope stamped with a depiction of the sun shining on Orario's central tower. "You'll need to deliver those to your goddess, then. Don't lose them, OK? If they're stolen, come right back and we'll give you a new packet. Anyway, I assume you're level one?"

Queen Administrator accepted the packet, reflexively searched for a carrier Friend who wasn't there, and settled on wishing Host's nighttime clothes had pockets.

"I am," Queen Administrator confirmed before switching to her standard questioning tone. "Are there those who start higher than that?"

"We sometimes get foreigners who leveled away from the dungeon," the non-host explained obligingly. "Can you write? The Guild prefers written signatures over verbal ones."

Queen Administrator bobbed Host's head in the standard human signal for agreement and wrote Host's name on the paper subsequently provided. The non-host gave the blocky lettering an odd look, but otherwise accepted it without complaint.

"Annnnd that's it!" the non-host declared, seeming strangely happy about having finished. "Congratulations on becoming an adventurer, Taylor! However, you should know that adventurers from new Familias have the highest mortality rates. The Guild tries to reduce the death toll by providing a variety of services to such individuals, including and especially the advisor system, but acceptance of our aid is by no means mandatory. Would you like an advisor?"

QA tilted Host's head questioningly. This time, Host's hair obediently stayed out of the way; last time, she'd been forced to choose between letting it tickle her nose and displaying weakness by pushing it aside.

"Yes. Is there any particular reason I wouldn't?"

The non-host's eternal smile twitched oddly, but stayed in place. QA wondered why human overseers seemed so keen on enforcing outward happiness among all their subordinates. Were the overseers afraid of a worker's revolt if they collectively realized just how unhappy work conditions could make them?

"Some adventurers believe that they know better than someone who'd choose to work in the Guild instead of pursuing an active adventuring career," the non-host answered. "Do you have a preference?"

Despite the annoying wait, Queen Administrator was beginning to begrudgingly acknowledge that the Guild was worthy of positive emotions after all. They were both willing to answer questions and acknowledge her own desires.

"Someone who isn't terrible at their job."

The non-host quickly exhaled through her nose and shook her head in apparent denial. Since humans seemed adverse to admit they were foisting an incompetent individual off another human, QA was guessing it wasn't a refusal of her request.

"That's a given. I meant race. Right now, you should have a choice between humans, elves, werewolves, dwarves, um…"

The employee frowned and furrowed her forehead.

"I know we should have others available, but those are all the ones I can remember off the top of my head. Most humans go for one of those anyway. I can go check if you'd like."

"Is there any particular reason I would prefer one over the others?"

The non-host opened her mouth, inhaled, and silently stared at Host for several seconds.

"Familiarity?" the non-host tried.

"Everything here is only familiar enough to emphasize the differences," Queen Administrator immediately replied. "If there are no inherent advantages among the options, then I have no preference."

The non-host hiccuped and forced her expression into its mandated mask of alleged happiness.

"Right. Ah, okay, a word of advice? Don't ever try to hint that one race is better than the others. Different races have different specialties, yet none of them are inherently better than the others. So, new question: Do you know what sort of combat style you're leaning toward? You can always switch advisors later if you change your mind, but what's your current impression?"

QA looked down to signal a pause for thought. Under ordinary circumstances, Host would take a leading role and would direct subordinates accordingly. However, reputation was important and she currently had none; plenty of incompetents wished to lead without any knowledge of what such responsibilities actually entailed. Queen Administrator looked back up to signal the completion of her contemplation.

"I tend to operate in a supporting role while my Friends tear my enemies to shreds."

The non-host's body twitched in the same manner as when QA first spoke to her through Host. Archival note: Ask pseudo-host Hestia if twitching is occasionally used as a signal instead of just an involuntary action in response to sickness or a threat.

"Um. Okay, so 'Supporter' is an unofficial role that some adventurers fill, but they tend to be more of a pack mule than an actual fighter. I'm assuming you meant something like an archer instead? Because that's going to be tough to manage without a Familia. The Dungeon isn't kind to those who try to maintain their distance without people to guard their backs."

"I will have plenty of pets to guard me," QA explained shortly. She didn't want to give any more information about her capabilities than she really needed to.

"Oh, you mean you're a Tamer? That's pretty unusual for a beginner; monsters really only ever bide their time until they think they see a moment of weakness. Or do you mean something like a mundane tiger? Because those don't last very long in the Dungeon and creatures like horses often don't have enough room to maneuver. They don't grow with you, either, so it's a bit of a dead-end. I mean, I've heard of people trying to feed their pets Monster Cores, but I've heard that makes them act like monsters after they've eaten too many. I guess your goddess could technically give one her Grace, but then you're halving all your—"

Another non-host coughed behind Host. Although QA would expect humans to avoid sick individuals, hearing it seemed to abruptly convince the Guild employee to prematurely end her explanation and express embarrassment.

"Well, I'll talk to the advisors and see what they think. Could you come back tomorrow morning? We should have everything sorted out by then. That should give your goddess enough time to fill out the paperwork, too! You won't be able to turn in any Cores until it's taken care of. And I shouldn't need to say this, but it'd be a really bad idea for you to enter the Dungeon before you talk with her. And, well, maybe get some new clothes? I doubt blood will wash out of those."

"It has before," QA disagreed.

Back when Host actually let QA use her blood for making Friends, she used to accidentally splatter it on Host's clothes all the time. Still, her disagreement seemed to invoke the full-body twitch from the employee again. Archival note: It seems increasingly likely that twitching is a human behavioral signal. Ask pseudo-host Hestia at the next available opportunity.

"Um, well, okay. You'd know, I guess. Nice talking with you?"

The non-host's last sentence had the lifting note that humans seemed to use for questions. Does my verdict double as a job performance rating? If so, the non-host definitely deserved agreement; she'd managed to flip QA's increasingly negative opinion of the Guild back to a positive impression.

"It was. Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions."

The non-host behind QA coughed once more. Since her business at the Guild seemed to have concluded, QA had Host hurry away in response. She didn't want Host to contract whatever illness he'd been infected with; her upgrades to Host's immune system seemed to be faring fairly well so far, but stressing them too much would be foolish. Even the best systems could crumble in the wake of overwhelming force and QA's tweaks were hardly the best imaginable.

The nameless girl perused her experimental results with a feeling of mild disgruntlement. She'd known it would take a while to break the system of magic into easily-exploited pieces, but she hadn't realized she was dealing with multiple subspecies. Mortal magic and divine magic seemed to be two separate mechanisms to accessing related, but not identical, systems. She needed to decipher both if she wanted to provide her guest-self with customized spells and abilities, but nearby 'gods' seemed to be capable of sensing something amiss when she started experimenting directly. The dreamer didn't want to get her new family member in trouble if anyone realized divine shenanigans were afoot.

The dreamer was starting to think she'd need to study divine magic solely through the application of mortal magic, a process that seemed liable to take months. She didn't have months! Her guest-self would be wandering into danger within the week, she was certain. Friendship is Biology would provide escorts after she'd defeated foes, but the raw materials would…

…Oooh! She didn't need to use magic to study magic. The friend-making power showed up on her back; she could tweak its limits and see how that affected the blessing! The dreamer could still keep dedicating all the other processes toward studying mortal magic and use the empowerment cores for studying divine magic.

I will see us in a poofy magical combat dress before the month is over, the dreamer vowed. You insulted my pretty princess phase; pay the price.

...Or at least, the dreamer assumed her guest-self had insulted it. She couldn't remember for certain; it was possible she'd conjured that justification and was actually motivated entirely by mischief. Still, it'd be fun, so she wouldn't worry too much about the why of things.

Alivaril · Dec 16, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

So I got sick. Seems like every time I get enthusiastic enough about writing something, that happens.

...Then again, there might be a reason for that. Maybe staying up to unholy hours to write isn't the best way to keep my immune system healthy after all? (whoooopsieeeee!)

The rest of the day was… odd. Hestia wasn't present when Queen Administrator got home, only leaving a note saying she'd gotten called to some urgent meeting of all Orario's gods. Leaving the house and eavesdropping at the markets indicated that it wasn't merely a truthless excuse; apparently, there'd been a major string of thefts all across the city. The public rumormill didn't say what had been stolen, but it was apparently enough for the local deities to discard their usual delays and games as quickly as possible. Apparently, meetings of the gods usually came with several days of warning, even in crisis situations. Some were speculating that a foreign god or coalition of gods had declared war.

Distressingly, Queen Administrator found herself unable to deliver the documents she'd been ordered to bring Hestia. Once she was reasonably confident the goddess wouldn't be returning until significantly later, she decided to make a trip to the Guild's Pantheon to explain her situation.

The Pantheon's first floor almost had enough people to force them shoulder-to-shoulder. Once again, the vast majority of those present seemed intent on selling their hauls of Monster Cores and materials, yet even the questions and complaints line was far larger than usual. Queen Administrator considered outright leaving until the non-host who'd registered Host leaped atop the counter and cupped both hands around her own mouth.

"If you're here to ask about the Monster Drop thefts, stop it! We don't know any more than you just yet! Same deal as far as auctioned items goes; we'll have news for you later and I'm sure the Guild will compensate you for any items taken from our possession! If you're here because your god went off without saying something to you, same deal—there's an all-deities-on-deck situation going on right now. They'll probably finish up late this evening, so stop asking us about it!"

The non-host returned to her position behind the counter and glared at the male adventurer standing before it. He scratched the back of his head and hurried away, a good two-thirds of the adventurers in line following without a word. By then, the line was actually smaller than QA had needed to tolerate earlier in the afternoon; perhaps the unusual size frightened away others with legitimate business?

Eavesdropping proved to be difficult with so many adventurers almost yelling just to speak with the people next to them, but the adjacent line eventually yielded a pair of loud conspiracy theorists. Or at least, one male conspiracy theorist and one female arguing against it.

"I'm telling you, it literally can't be an inside job," the grey-robed female argued. "They hit a bunch of private shops, too. 'Inside job' literally means the thieves had help from one or more people on the inside. How do you get inside so many separate private-owned businesses?"

"All of the shops belonged to large, successful Familias or the Guild themselves," her broadsword-carrying partner pointed out. "The sheer number of simultaneous targets already indicates they had at least that many co-conspirators. If they took the time to gather so many like-minded people, who's to say they wouldn't spend take a bit longer to infiltrate the different Familia of Orario?"

"They weren't perfectly simultaneous; there were a couple follow-up thefts in the hours afterward. That means secondary targets, which means they didn't have enough people to infiltrate everywhere."

"Copycat thefts, probably."

The male shifted his shoulders in the gesture that humans seemed to use from everything from uncertainty to rude dismissal: the shrug. Its imprecise nature honestly irritated QA; how was she supposed to know what humans meant if the possibility range was so large?

"'S what I'd do," he continued, "If I were a thief given such a great opportunity. Grab some drops, have my Familia use some for crafting traceless consumables, sell the rest as an alleged Dungeon haul."

"Taylor?"

Queen Administrator involuntarily blinked, turning back to the empty space where the line used to be. The Guild employee was looking at Host with a positive emotion QA couldn't yet interpret. QA frowned to express regret and hurried toward Host's position.

"Hello again. As my goddess is currently attending the mandatory meeting, I do not believe I will be able to deliver the package in time for tomorrow's deadline. Could we have an extension?"

"Package...? Oh, the welcome packet? Don't worry about it. As long as she makes a good-faith effort to get the forms to us as soon as she can, you'll be fine."

Queen Administrator slightly tilted her head and reviewed Host's memories of legal procedures. Her impression of them was overwhelmingly negative. If that was standard for humans...

"Mandatory legal documents do not sound particularly welcoming."

"There's some useful stuff in there as well," the non-host said dismissively. "Anyway, I know I said to come back tomorrow, but I talked with a couple of the advisors during break and Elpis seemed interested enough. She's done a bit of everything and loves the weirder cases. You got time to talk with her now?"

Queen Administrator glanced out at the slowly descending sun. Assuming the earlier estimate was accurate and Hestia wouldn't return home until later, then she could cheerfully break her usual sunset curfew without fear of parental disapproval.

"I should have several hours available."

The non-host Guild employee giggled.

"If your meeting really takes that long, I think you'd set some kind of record for newbies. You lot usually stop listening and leave within half an hour. Anyway, head down to the door with the blue diamond above it, go in, and ask for Elpis. There should be a guard who can point you to the right door."

Queen Administrator silently nodded and hurried toward the specified direction. She had an abundance of questions and a ~~victim~~ scholar who was assigned to answer them; what more could she want?

Two minutes later, Queen Administrator realized she did want something else: permission. Specifically, permission to pet the cat ears sitting innocuously atop the blue-haired human variant before her. She knew from human entertainment media that such a request would be received poorly, but she still wanted to pet them. They looked significantly softer than Host's current apparel, and their blue primary coloration was one Danny Hebert had banned when making Friends, and...

"Ya gonna sit down or what?" Host's new advisor asked, her ears flattening against her head.

Queen Administrator shifted Host's lips downward to convey regret, closed the door behind herself, and hurried to the offered metal chair. It was unusually uncomfortable for a human-made object. The contrast became even more blatant when one considered the padded wooden chair occupied by the uniformed non-host sitting behind the desk between her and Host.

To QA's vague displeasure, Elpis's black and white uniform was not half as neat as that worn by the other non-hosts in the Guild. The sheer number of wrinkles almost indicated a horrific disregard for regulated appearances. However, there were simply too many to sell the image of simple carelessness. Elpis would've needed to force her uniform into a ball repeatedly—possibly even while it was damp—in order to manage such a disheveled look with the fabrics provided. To further reinforce the artificial nature of Elpis's presented image, the lack of smell indicated it had been cleaned thoroughly.

Once she got over her initial displeasure, Queen Administrator found her first impression of Elpis to be an especially positive one. She possessed cute wittle blue ears, enough experience to cultivate a specific reputation, and the good sense to take Host on as one of her duties. The one problem seemed to be the hacked-off appearance of the non-host's unusually short hair. Yes, it fit the image Elpis was likely trying to cultivate, but Host's mild horror seemed to indicate such treatment was a minor human sin. Admittedly, Host seemed more attached to her own hair than most humans; her knowledge may be unhelpfully biased for that subject.

"Soooo," Host's new adviser drawled. "Hi. 'M Elpis and yer Taylor, but we both knew tha'. So I heard ya wanted t'try somethin' a lil' unusual, right? Let's hear it."

Queen Administrator tilted her head and altered her voice to reflect her usual questioning tone. She didn't actually mind the apparent protocol break, but determining the proper order of operations may help Host in the future.

"Shouldn't I have priority for asking questions?"

The uniformed non-host shrugged, her ears slowly relaxing into their normal upright position.

"If ya want someone t' regurg–regurgi–puke answers for ya on command, sure. If ya want me t'give actual advice? 'M gonna need more than jus' a name 'n such. Anyway, ya doin' yer emotionless thing on purpose? 'Cuz people 'round here would fin' it pret-ty creepy. Biggest reason t'pick me was that I could ignore tha' sort o' thing."

Queen Administrator imitated the pout she'd seen on Warp's host, Vista. It was one of the few expressions she felt she'd actually mastered. Admittedly, it usually made other humans smile instead of eliciting sympathy, but she'd take what she could get. Elpis certainly seemed amused by it.

"I'm still learning how to express human emotions in the expected manner."

"'S not just humans," the advisor retorted. "Do I look human to ya?"

Elpis pointedly twitched the fuzzy, soft, tempting cat ears atop her head. Queen Administrator painfully reminded herself that humans valued their personal space and that petting her would probably break some kind of social rule. At least it made ambushes easier to anticipate than among some other host species. Admittedly, those incidents had done quite a bit to advance one of Queen Administrator's specialties: widespread situational awareness.

"Yes? Humans can breed with you, but you can't breed with other species. By biological definitions, that makes you a human subtype."

The advisor stopped and silently stared at Host for several consecutive seconds.

"Donkeys and horses woul' like a word with ya. Amazons, too, come t'think o' it."

Queen Administrator opened Host's mouth to explain the different human-known definitions of species relations. Elpis continued speaking before she could even start.

"Listen, yer spouting' somethin' close t'the human supremacist nutters. Jus' let it go, will ya? Sayin' 'people' instead o' 'humans' won' hurt ya."

Queen Administrator closed Host's mouth and grudgingly signaled compliance via nodding.

"Still, I do not yet understand why hu—people choose to express emotions they are not feeling. Happiness seems to be the most common among these. Expressing an emotion I do not feel seems uncomfortably close to lying. I do not feel anything in particular right now, so I am not expressing anything in particular."

Elpis silently watched Queen Administrator for another few seconds before exhaling and rubbing her forehead.

"Philosophy. Fantastic. That's def'nitely one o' my strengths, 'specially so late in the day'."

A few moments later, the non-host paused and added, "Sarcasm." Queen Administrator closed her mouth and utilized Vista's pout once more.

"Aiight, let's see wha' we can do 'bout tha' mindset. Mos' people ain't tryin' t' imply anything when talkin' normally, y'see. All o' us tell lil' white lies every day, 'specially among adventurers. Misery enjoys company, right? If everyone talked like you whene'er they were bored, 'td be pretty depressin'. Harder to cancel out right bastards, too."

Elpis rolled her shoulders and shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the rude curse she'd so casually dropped. A stab of annoyance irked Queen Administrator at the unreliable gesture. She thought Elpis's shrug was meant to reinforce a casual environment, but how could she be certain?

"Somethin' for ya to work on. Anyway, you wanna be some kind o' non-monster Tamer? 'Cuz I'll hear you out, but tha' never really works."

Queen Administrator frowned and did her utmost to review Host's poorly-indexed memories. Hestia didn't expressly forbid telling anyone about Friendship is Biology, did she? And having an experienced local to share ideas with may prove to be rather useful.

"Do our discussions fall under any sort of confidentiality agreement?"

The non-host wiggled one hand in the air. Queen Administrator wasn't quite sure what to make of that; she could remember seeing it before, but couldn't remember what it meant. Fortunately, Elpis elaborated a moment later.

"Mos'ly. If ya give us permission, are the subject of an official criminal inquiry, or ya die, we can talk 'bout it. Rest o' the time? Nah. Don' be evil and yer secrets'll be safe with me."

"That seems like it would incentivize killing me."

Elpis inhaled quickly and again wasted time by silently staring at Host.

"...Nah, not really," the non-host eventually managed. "Lil' worried 'bout why ya thought o' tha', though. If this is a Status thing, it ain't all tha' useful t'others if yer dead. No two people share th' same story. So, wha'cha got for me? Ya got me curious now."

Host, any opinions one way or the other?

Queen Administrator felt an uncharacteristic spike of annoyance. It quickly faded, but was enough to deliver the message: Host didn't want to be bothered right then. This choice probably isn't important enough to worry about, then.

"As I understand it, my prior life experiences and abilities ensured I had a skill when I first got the Falna. I suspect it will let me continue using my preferred fighting style."

Elpis bobbed her head in apparent agreement.

"Nice, nice. Betcher god told ya t'keep it quiet, right? 'S actually more common than they seem t'think. Ya got occasional skills tha' run in families—blood ones, not Familia. Ya got people tryin' t'attempt heroics without a Falna an' earnin' a story from it. Tha' sort o' thing. Sounds like yer the second one, right?"

"Approximately," Queen Administrator agreed. "My skill is called 'Friendship is Biology.' It should let me convert biological materials, including those from slain foes, into eternally loyal Friends. I've previously used my own blood for this purpose, but I've recently been discouraged from doing so."

Elpis's eyebrows shot up. Thankfully, the non-host seemed to be learning how to deal with unexpected information inputs; she only hesitated for a second before responding.

"Ya talkin' 'bout necromancy? 'Cuz I've never heard o' a necromancer wi' a happy ending. And, uh, corpses don' make good friends."

Queen Administrator shook ~~her~~ Host's head to signal negation.

"You're familiar with blacksmiths, correct? It's the same general idea, only I'm producing a living being instead of a static piece of equipment. It took me some time and effort to get their appearances right, but my most recent Friends are actually quite cute. They're like little balls of white fluff with eyes and itteh-bitteh horns and alllll these teeth..."

Elpis blinks and adopts an expression that Queen Administrator isn't sure how to interpret. The upturned lips hint toward happiness, but the rest of the non-host's face seems to signal confusion.

"I don' even know wha' t'say t'that," Elpis admitted. "Don'cha think it's a lil' heartless t'use a pet like a disposable weapon, though? 'S one thing to break an' replace a dagger or suchlike, but a livin' thing? Tha's cold."

Queen Administrator was used to treating her minions as semi-expendable members of overwhelmingly large swarms; their sacrifice was appreciated, but ultimately irrelevant. Sadly, Host and her body happened to agree with her Guild advisor. Even Queen Administrator had found herself disproportionately upset when several of her Peacekeeper-helping Friends were killed during an antagonistic host's bombing rampage.

In an ordinary Cycle, Queen Administrator would've dismissed the loss and Host would likely get over it with time. This was distinctly not an ordinary cycle. The incident revealing Host's rule-breaking process tampering had been when their replacement Friends had recognized another bomb and nudged Host's body away from the area. Queen Administrator had reviewed their brain designs immediately afterward and found them different from what she'd remembered. Host had apparently repurposed a number of her personality emulation cores to store the personalities of her Friends and let them pilot their bodies remotely. Their local brains handled some of the processing and all of the sensory input, but none of the memories. The backups definitely explained why Host had expressed a preference for larger Friends over swarms of fist-sized fuzzies; the latter wouldn't let her restore their personalities whenever their local bodies were slain. Queen Administrator only had so much personality storage available and Host could access even less.

Of course, it was all empty now. Host had insisted they painstakingly rewrite the brains of her Friends and transfer all the stored personalities after seeing Danny Hebert's condition. Queen Administrator still wasn't quite sure why she'd insisted on leaving them to frolic on a human-free Earth, either; they could've just brought their Friends to this new world without issues. As it stood, they would need to start training their Friends from scratch.

Then again, that might've been the idea. This world didn't seem to have the insistence on nonlethal combat that was the preferred rule for host vs. host conflict. Starting from scratch meant they could give their new Friends instincts suitable for dedicated monster killers.

Even in the present, Queen Administrator occasionally wondered what :MOTHER:'s plan for Host was. Queen Administrator's primary theory was a prototype adoption process for promising host species members, an impression that was only reinforced as Host usurped and repurposed more and more of Queen Administrator's subprocesses. Many of Queen Administrator's previous hosts would've stayed quarantined in dreaming until they recovered properly, but Host had somehow managed to hijack an increasing number of non-essential systems. The essential systems remained entirely untouched, an omission that was a clear sign of :MOTHER:'s involvement. Queen Administrator wasn't afraid of a total replacement; if adoption was :MOTHER:'s plan, then Host was merely proving her ingenuity. Queen Administrator would regain full control of herself eventually.

"Taylor?" Elpis prompted. "Ya alright o'er there?"

Queen Administrator refocused Host's gaze on the Guild advisor across from her, tried to review Host's recent memories, and came up short. She honestly couldn't remember what they'd been talking about before. Fortunately, human memories were unreliable enough that they'd accepted this excuse in the past.

"I apologize; I've forgotten what we were discussing before. If it was my turn to speak, could you please remind me what we were discussing?"

Elpis rapidly rotated the focus of her gaze in a full circle for little discernible reason. It couldn't have been to scan the room for possible threats; she would've missed the entire space behind her and QA's words weren't at all threatening. Yet another expression to ask pseudo-host Hestia about.

"Don'cha think it's cold t'use a pet like a disposable weapon? 'S one thing t'replace a weapon, but a livin' bein'? Tha' seems cruel."

Oh, right.

"My Friends don't really die all the way when their bodies are killed," Queen Administrator explained. "They'll be back as soon as I make them a new body and I'm not so cruel as to design them with significant pain receptors. They're smart enough not to ignore the alerts."

Elpis's mouth and eyes opened wide, effectively conveying that the non-host would need several seconds to process new information. Queen Administrator wasn't quite sure why humans didn't use it more often; instead, humans usually failed to express how much processing time they'd need at all.

"Ye can store their souls?"

"Something like that," QA summarized. "I'd prefer not to outline the exact mechanics lest an enemy interfere with the process."

Queen Administrator sincerely doubted the local non-host population could manage that, but misinformation was an important part of keeping foes away from genuinely harmful information. Encouraging enemies to chase an imaginary weakness was a technique that had served many of QA's previous hosts quite well. Elpis didn't appear to be even remotely hostile, yet betrayal via carelessness could be just as damaging as betrayal from malice.

"An' their souls ain't damaged by tha'?"

"Not in the slightest. Why would I design their bodies to include such a defect?"

Elpis rubbed her forehead with the palm of one hand.

"No wonder yer god wanted ya to keep this quiet."

Elpis clasped both hands atop her desk in the human signal for a potentially threatening conversation.

"Listen, wha'cher describin' sounds completely new, or so rare ah've never heard o' it. A girl fighting' usin' a swarm o' artificial pets? Every tamer Familia woul' want ya and then a few dozen others besides. The gods love new things; heard it comes from bein' immortal. Hell, if yer 'Friends' are as cute as ya say, I bet even the likes of Loki would want ya."

Elpis scanned Host's expression and smiled faintly.

"In case ya didn't know, Loki is goddess o' the top Familia 'round here. Still, 'level one' an' 'fame' are two things ya don't really wanna mix. Unless ye loathe yer current Familia, my advice for ya is t'redo how yer pets look. Make 'em look like some foreign monster or 'nother, then try t'stick with jus' a few. If ya really need swarmin' pets, make 'em look weak or somethin'. We're talkin' smaller than th' Dungeon's Killer Ants, definitely. Pass 'em off as bein' from past the sea to th' west; anyone actually from o'er there is polite 'nuff to avoid contradictin' ya unless ye slight 'em."

Queen Administrator shifted Host's features into the open-mouthed, wide-eyed expression used to signal necessary processing time. Across from her, Elpis engaged in the apparently-expressive full-body twitch she kept seeing the locals use.

QA honestly wasn't sure if she was being given utterly unhelpful information or not. It sounded reasonable, yet Danny Hebert had previously said being feared was undesirable. Then again, that particular culture viewed murder as a bad thing. This one seemed to view the repeated culling of their 'Dungeon' as a laudable public service. Plenty of predators established dominance via fear; maybe Host had returned to one of the reasonable cultures that followed that rule? Host's old culture had honestly seemed rather illogical to Queen Administrator.

Still, appearances should be maintained. Queen Administrator returned Host's facial features to neutrality—ah, right. She twitched Host's lips upward to express ever-so-faint happiness in accordance with Elpis's earlier advice on memetic unhappiness. She also adjusted Host's tone of voice to match the new expression.

"These instructions are the exact opposite of those I have previously been given."

Elpis shrugged again. Queen Administrator gave up on trying to interpret it; if she needed to search for context to interpret a gesture instead of the other way around, that gesture was effectively useless to her.

"Tha's life for ya. So, with yer skill, I'd say yer plan could be viable. Ya have any other questions?"

Host's lips stretched even wider in an involuntary, and more genuine, expression of happiness.

"Of course."

The nameless girl's carefully constructed gazebo burned and crumbled around her. She didn't mind; her guest-self's new plan still looked entertaining enough. Plus, designing monsters would be fun!

Alivaril · Dec 16, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

This is the last stockpiled chapter I have saved up. Also, just in case some minor details didn't make it clear by now: INW is a bit AU on the Danmachi side of things as well (closer to expansion, really); I'm having too much fun playing with the setting to adhere religiously to canon.

Hestia was having a rough evening. First she'd been forced to attend an all-gods meeting—otherwise known as a pointless shouting and weapon-measuring contest—even though her Familia had all of one member. Absence was apparently a sign of guilt or something. By the time even Freya got impatient and wrestled the meeting into something vaguely resembling productivity, they'd already wasted multiple hours, something that made the other gods complain more, saying it couldn't be that urgent if pre-meeting drama could push it back so far.

Loki had punched the offending idiot in the face at that point. The ensuing ruckus — most of which was just people placing bets on the winner — had wasted even more time. Eventually, the Guild's spokesman had given up and started summarizing the situation despite the furor. It took the assembled deities a minute to notice he'd started, but that was finally enough to shut them up.

It turned out that almost exactly half the Monster Cores and other drops just vanished from seemingly every stockpile of sufficient size, including the Guild's. Underground, in the Tower of Babel above the Dungeon, in a major Familia's private stash — it didn't matter where. Seventeen separate secure targets and, as far as anyone could tell, they were all robbed simultaneously. All the targets were large enough to afford the blow, but it was definitely a major setback for all of those involved.

The fact that they'd only taken half of each stockpile had fueled a good half-hour of evidence-free speculation. Was it a message? A thief who'd later redistribute it to smaller Familia? A thief who wanted to support crippled adventurers? A secret Familia that would use the stockpiles to become the top Familia in Orario? A remnant of Evilus? Nobody knew, but seemingly everyone wanted to present their own fantastical reason.

An entire day was wasted just so the powerful, important gods could agree to scour the city for possible secret passages and villainous hideouts. The rest were little more than loud spectators. Hestia's bitterness at that thought had, for once, needed to fight with her ambition. She was no longer alone and leading one of those powerful Familia was no longer a hopeless dream. Administrator and Taylor could drag the Hestia Familia to glory all on their own if they were left alone long enough.

That was the thought she clung to as she stumbled home, exhausted but still intent on asking Administrator about her day. Administrator seemed to have the same thought; Hestia had found the child waiting patiently for her to come home. That gesture alone had ignited a warm fire deep in her heart.

Her happiness hadn't lasted long.

An official Guild advisor — the people who were supposed to discourage dumb ideas — had suggested her new children make fake monsters in the name of laying low. Hestia could definitely see the conclusions that led to such an abhorrent idea, but it was still... she didn't even know what it was. She hadn't needed to think this hard in years. Hephaestus had always been the hard worker and planner; Hestia just did the bare minimum and spent the rest of her time lazing around. Hestia didn't know how she'd survive if the rest of her children took so much effort to protect.

Maybe she should've started out small. She could've gotten herself a puppy; everyone liked puppies! Dogs were excellent shields against unhappiness, too, so the little fuzzball could've easily played an important part in her fledgling Familia.

…Actually, that could help with her current problem, couldn't it?

"Uuu," Hestia groaned. "Didn't either of you think of making normal predators? Lions or bears, or... something that won't make you look evil when the nature of their 'birth' comes out? Making even fake monsters is not okay!"

"Terran body plans are inefficient," Administrator returned petulantly. Apparently, she still didn't understand the idea of not scrubbing her voice of emotion. Some leaked through anyway. "They evolved to exploit specific ecological openings and are not adapted to circumstances beyond them. They grew to support as many of their species as possible and effectively said 'good enough.' I can design better versions while I'm asleep."

Hestia was learning that when Administrator said that sort of thing, she wasn't just saying it was easy for her. She could probably literally design creatures while she was resting. It made sense; that could be the only time she and Taylor talked face-to-face these days.

"So your plan is to… what? Make monstrous creatures that everyone will always avoid? You'll never get a party like that!"

It's like Hades all over again, Hestia marveled. Adopting a ravenous, three-headed dog and trying to train it to guard Heaven's main entrance? That sort of person would be supporting Administrator all the way. Hestia still remembered the cooing, continuous barking, and eternal insistence that Cerberus usually behaved itself.

(It didn't. It tried to eat everyone. The sheer impossibility of eating a god didn't seem to bother it in the slightest.)

"Cute creatures would apparently have granted too much popularity. Leading a monster stronger than yourself into battle is known to be exceptionally stupid; everyone will underestimate me until their objections are irrelevant."

Administrator, conclusions like that make you sound like a villain, Hestia wanted to say. She didn't. Implying one's children were in any way evil, even as a joke, would be an easy way to hurt them. As the Goddess of Hearth and Home, she'd watched homes be destroyed by chains of such careless comments.

"I'm sure you can find some way to change their insides," Hestia said instead, the words only catching up with her a moment later.

How is this my life?

"Even the outside can be a little different than usual. Some past Familia have tried imbuing tamed animals with the Falna, so it wouldn't be too weird. Everyone just knows it's dumb; they hog just as much excelia as a normal Familia member would while missing out on practically everything except the Basic Abilities. You don't need to be distinctive; do you want to be distinctive?"

Administrator appeared genuinely shocked by the question, her mouth dropping open with her eyes wide. Hestia was immediately suspicious of the reaction; it was too normal. She had the distinct feeling it was being misused, an impression that was only strengthened when Administrator's features smoothly slid back to neutrality.

"I might." Administrator eventually concluded. "I suspect I may be attention-starved with the absence of my usual Friend swarm. Awe may help."

Hestia started. She'd guessed Administrator was lonely with her sister hiding, but Hestia hadn't expected Administrator to ever realize that on her own. At least this would give her an excuse to bring up the guidance from Hephaestus's child.

"Could you please tell me what that gesture means?"

Hestia's thoughts went from neat and orderly to running around in circles. She honestly had no idea what Administrator was talking about.

"Huh?" Hestia eloquently managed.

"The full-body twitch," Administrator elaborated. "I keep seeing no—hu—people doing something similar, but usually closer to an ongoing vibration. Yours concluded more quickly, but your absolute position appeared to shift more to compensate."

Hestia closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Well, at least she realizes she has social problems…?

The goddess allowed herself another second of indulgence before she opened her eyes and answered properly.

"People usually twitch like that when they're surprised or startled," Hestia explained. "It's an involuntary reaction, not a communication tool. Just now? I didn't expect you to realize or admit that you might be understandably lonely. That vibrating thing sounds like an involuntary shudder; people have those when they're cold, frightened, uneasy, uncomfortable, things like that. Like, if I saw a big spider—"

"We live in a near-abandoned building," Administrator interrupted. "We are surrounded by spiders, some of them rather large."

Hestia shuddered as the horrifying thought forced itself to the forefront of her mind. She'd already realized that, of course. After several consecutive nights with little sleep, Hestia convinced herself that if she couldn't see them, they didn't exist.

The unease vanished and Hestia giggled as she realized Administrator was intently watching the reaction.

"Soooo meeean," the goddess whined playfully. "Hey, Administrator, scaring your goddess isn't funny!"

"Spiders are good," Administrator countered. "They guard against potentially dangerous or painful insects, including irritating mosquitos. If mildly enhanced or otherwise encouraged, I believe they could even guard our home against rats or other unpleasant scavengers."

Hestia shuddered again and subsequently chose to ignore Administrator's keen interest in the involuntary reaction. She was glad her child wanted to learn proper socialization techniques, but did Administrator really have to deliberately induce them? Hestia didn't like horror stories!

"If I wake up with nightmares, I'm using you as a teddy bear," the goddess threatened.

Admittedly, she intended to take every excuse to do that anyway. That way, there was a much smaller chance of her waking up to an empty home.

"I have no significant objections," Administrator said in complete defiance of her usual age-group's preferences. "However, you may be disturbed should I return to consciousness before you."

Once you got past her quirks, she really is sweet, Hestia marveled. Oh, it was disguised under the veneer of practicality, but bringing it up meant she actually cared about waking up Hestia.

"You know, it's considered polite to wait if you wake up first," the goddess half-lied.

It actually was polite, but getting up early wasn't all that impolite. Being awoken was a known and accepted risk of using someone as a living stuffed animal.

"That sounds very inefficient."

"You're a growing child," Hestia countered. "If you wake up first, go back to bed."

"You're smaller and still have significantly more growing left to do," Administrator countered.

Hestia's jaw loosened in shock and betrayal. Even you, Administrator? …No, no, that's the wrong way to look at it. She just doesn't know any better, that's all. She's too kind to do that on purpose.

"Gods don't grow," Hestia choked out. It was an old, old pain for her.

"Oh." Administrator blinked innocently. "Should I apologize?"

Hestia gave her a weak smile.

"Please do."

"I am sorry," Queen Administrator said immediately. "If I had intended to upset you, it would be much more obvious and would likely involve living spiders."

Hestia's smile became a little more genuine as the goddess noticed the hint of sadness Administrator had tried to inject into her words. She still wasn't doing a very good job; Administrator sounded out of breath, not upset or apologetic. And really, what kind of apology was that supposed to be? Still, the child was trying and that's what mattered.

…Actually, she should probably say that. Administrator would never learn otherwise.

"In this case, I care more about the intent than your actual apology," Hestia began slowly. "Although, um, Administrator? Implying that you've given thought into deliberately upsetting someone is not what you want to include as part of an apology. For now? Please just say you didn't mean to upset someone and stop there."

Administrator nodded solemnly.

"Understood. Would you like a hug?"

Hestia gave up on decorum and eagerly indulged in a tackle-hug, squeeing loudly as she did so. Her new child was just so cute!

…I'm turning into Hades, aren't I? Two souls isn't that different from three heads...

The dreamer turned away from her guest-self's uncertain attempts at cuddling and wondered how many Lovecraftian combat tentacles she could fit inside a lion-sized, lion-shaped Friend.

Let's find out! the nameless girl thought happily, standing to pump one fist in the air.

Subjective seconds later, she shook her head and sat back down. New-Mom wouldn't be very happy if they did that; the whole point was to avoid a monstrous appearance. Hidden combat tentacles would make for a funny gag once and enough screaming to quickly push it back to not-funny.

"I'm not going to be allowed any amusingly self-destructive plans at all, am I?" the dreamer murmured to herself.

New-Mom seemed to be doing a far better job of being a replacement parent than the dreamer had anticipated. The dreamer initially thought New-Mom would act like a spoiled little sister, a mere placeholder until her guest-self could push their way to a Familia with a better parent. Instead, the alleged goddess actually seemed to be taking her new duties seriously. The dreamer's guest-self was still far more entertaining to watch than to be, but New-Mom kept managing to shut down the ill-advised errors and even seemed to be going after the behavioral quirks. If this kept up, the dreamer's guest-self might actually learn how to act like an eccentric human being instead of an alien with a human meat-puppet.

The nameless girl wasn't sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, her guest-self's clumsy mistakes were one of ~~Taylor's~~ her primary sources of entertainment. On the other, it wasn't as though she was lacking for sources of entertainment; they were living in a fantasy epic. If she ever got bored of her guest-self's life, she could always peek at one of the other characters. And, well, she rather liked the idea of having a functional family to step into if she ever grew bored of dreaming. She'd need to make a new meat-puppet for her guest-self, but that would actually be pretty easy if the guest-self cooperated. Without it? She might as well declare war on a band of plucky hobbits. She might triumph initially, but they'd inevitably destroy the source of her power.

Oh, well. No matter. She had almost half a city's worth of ~~stolen~~ repurposed monster materials to play with and an abundance of ideas to try. She was looking forward to stealthily enhancing her new Friends with them once she learned what they all did. Admittedly, that step was still a work in progress.

…Judging by how another non-sentient prototype Friend had spontaneously combusted, it would remain a work in progress for quite some time. Perhaps if she included some exotic materials in their initial construction instead of adding them later? She was supposed to have a magical 'skill' to help with that.

Alivaril · Dec 17, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

The following morning...

Queen Administrator stared up at the giant ~~muscle wizard~~ non-host looming over Host and Hestia. The plate-wearing non-host grinned back.

"Best of mornings to you both," the oversized human rumbled. "Name's Anzo of Agris. Hephaestus sent me over; I'm here to collect Taylor for her first delving session."

He patted the sledgehammer slung over one shoulder and examined Host with an uncomfortable level of detail. QA dimly wondered if his subspecies regularly engaged in cannibalism; he was half again as tall as Host and generally looked large enough to still be hungry after eating her. He looked far too interested for what he claimed to be, too.

Host? Could I have shapeshifting back?

A flicker of amused agreement pushed at the back of QA's mind.

<Only if you actually need it,> Host transmits sleepily. <This doesn't qualify.>

Meanie.

Despite the idle accusation, Queen Administrator found herself unintentionally expressing happiness. Host had actually completed a real transmission! It had her identity string attached and everything! Admittedly, 'Dreamer' wasn't much of a Concept, but Host was making wonderful progress.

"Those clothes won't last half an hour in the Dungeon," Anzo noted, returning QA to the present. "Change it or lose it."

Hestia went from timidly hiding behind Host to righteous indignation within all of two seconds, the goddess stepping sideways and planting both fists on her hips.

"We were still in the middle of breakfast!" Hestia hissed, appearing personally offended by the early visit. "She hasn't had time to change!"

"I actually don't have any other clothes," Queen Administrator admitted. "I had planned to obtain some later today; I did not realize we would be Dungeon delving until significantly later."

Hestia's anger passed as quickly as it began and left her halfway slumped on their doorstep.

"I'd meant to tell you last night, but I guess it got lost in the wake of social lessons...?" Hestia said quietly.

Anzo blinked and scratched behind his neck with his spare hand. The other maintained its firm grip on his sledgehammer.

"Don't beat yourself up too much, Goddess. Mistakes happen. If you learn from it, you'll be doing better than more than half your kin."

He paused and tapped his chin with one hand.

"Hephaestus said you should finish the tax forms soon, though. They're actually important. Taylor, I've got a spare trainee uniform if you want it, but it's drab and thin enough to make your armor chafe. Could work for one day, if only to teach you the importance of proper padding."

"I do not have armor, either," Queen Administrator said shortly. "And my combat pets are not yet in Orario."

Anzo shook his head.

"I'll lend you some temporary gear from my stock, free of charge or liability," he generously offered. "You don't get hit, it doesn't get much wear. You do get hit, we'll be glad you had it. Worth the investment either way; a life's worth more than a few valis."

"Um!" Hestia spoke up. "Shouldn't she be trained to fight first?"

Anzo shook his head.

"Katas are shit against monsters," Anzo replied bluntly. "And dodge practice teaches 'em they can tank hits when they really can't. We'll do a quick primer with her chosen weapon and go from there. Respectfully, Goddess, your child will be fine. I'm level two and we won't be going past the first floor. Goblins won't do anything a potion can't fix. If she wants to pursue other training after our week is up, that's her choice, but I won't be wasting time on something I believe to be actively detrimental. Live combat is the best teacher. Honestly, you should be glad you're getting me; she almost ended up with the Crozzo brat. He's dumber than a brick and spiteful as a goat. Loyalty to Hephaestus is really his only good trait."

He looked toward Taylor and waved her back inside.

"You go finish your meal. Ah, but before you go, which weapon did you want? I'll try to plan out the primer while you're eating."

Queen Administrator barely needed to consider her answer. If there was one thing she was good at, it was precisely controlling Host's body.

"I will rapidly gain proficiency in any precision weapon you give me."

"Define 'precision.' Throwing knives, arrows, rapiers, darts, what?"

Queen Administrator quickly reviewed Host's capabilities and found them wanting. With her Friends to quickly overwhelm any foes and block incoming attacks, QA-as-Host had never really needed to account for enemy action.

"Addendum: Any ranged precision weapon. Enemy action will remove the main advantage of melee precision weaponry."

"Fancy yourself a sniper, huh?" Anzo asked. "Well–"

"Approximately," Queen Administrator answered. She didn't trust Host's memory to remember the first question should Anzo ask more.

Anzo paused and raised one eyebrow.

"Approximately what?"

"A sniper is an approximate explanation of how I view myself," Queen Administrator repeated.

Anzo looked from Hestia to Host several times. Hestia covered her face with one hand and exhaled loudly.

"She was hurt and is relearning how to talk to people," said Hestia. "Please be patient with her. Taylor, that was what's called a rhetorical question. People don't need or expect answers to those."

Queen Administrator questioningly tilted her head to one side.

"Not nearly that sharp of an angle," Hestia said quickly. "Maybe a third of that."

You're being much more helpful than my siblings usually are. As she adjusted Host's neck back upward, QA made a mental note to find some suitable reward for Hestia. Having someone directly explain errors instead of incomprehensibly joking about them or deliberately making them worse was a very nice change. Queen Administrator hadn't even bothered to track the number of times her siblings had forced her to waste part or all of a cycle due to deliberate misinformation. The number grew too depressingly large whenever she started tagging them accordingly.

"Why would people ask a question if they don't want an answer? The entire purpose of questions is to gather information."

"Not necessarily," Anzo rumbled. "They're sometimes used to guide someone to a specific conclusion instead. Language is one of the most versatile tools we have."

"Too much so. There would likely be much fewer misunderstandings if it was more specific," Queen Administrator argued. "You're all so confusing."

Hestia began tugging Host back inside the church as Anzo answered.

"Maybe so, but don't you think it's more interesting this way?"

"The world has enough mysteries without people artificially introducing—"

Hestia shut the door before Queen Administrator was finished. The shard promptly used Host's face to express displeasure.

"I was still communicating with him."

"And you'll have plenty of time to argue once you've finished breakfast. It's getting cold."

Queen Administrator stopped passively resisting and ran past Hestia. The pseudo-host was correct: a cold breakfast was disgusting and should be avoided whenever possible.

It wasn't until near the conclusion of breakfast that Queen Administrator realized Host's cowl had fallen off. Host had given her a permanent translation effect. Unfortunately, the price seemed to be her ability to switch between hats; donning an appropriately folded napkin provided no new powers.

I know you can do better than that, Host! Queen Administrator encouraged her. There should be plenty of unused cores for you to shift it into. You don't need to use the dedicated Hat core for it.

A dim sense of amusement gradually built at the back of Host's head. Queen Administrator's mood plummeted along with her expectations.

You did that on purpose, didn't you?

The cloud of amusement grew.

If you keep this up, I'm leaving the settings as I find them when I eventually retake control, QA threatened. Torturing others is cruel, Host!

Rather than repenting, Host seemed to find that threat hilarious. Queen Administrator externally expressed Vista's pout and returned to her food.

I wonder if Hestia would be willing to help me convince Host?

Queen Administrator quickly discarded that idea at the rush of Host's anger-tinged dismay. Even in the hypothetical scenario where that worked, it was clear Host would be deeply unhappy about it. QA would prefer preserving their good relationship over a mere power boost.

"I know the food isn't very good, but it's nutritious and cheap," Hestia mumbled, her face and voice signaling deep unhappiness. "I'm doing the best I can…"

Queen Administrator blinked and realized she was still holding the pout from earlier. She immediately returned to her standard expression.

"There is little problem with the food," Queen Administrator reassured the pseudo-host. "Ho—Taylor and I were simply arguing."

Hestia straightened her spine and leaned forward, her distress instantly replacing itself with curiosity. Queen Administrator approved; the pursuit of knowledge should always take priority over all else.

"Really? What about?"

I won't tell her, Queen Administrator promised her abruptly-anxious host, then paused. If not that, she had no idea what to tell the pseudo-host. Her species could allegedly detect direct lies.

<Fighting styles,> Host provided, relapsing back into confused slumber a moment later. Queen Administrator immediately stiffened. She would tell Host not to strain herself, but trying to hear the warning might hurt Host more. Still, there was nothing more she could do; Host had already proved herself adept at escaping quarantine.

Maybe Queen Administrator was looking at it the wrong way. If she'd still possessed shapeshifting, she would've simply turned into the strongest local creature, made even stronger Friends, and had the ability to conquer the area in short order. Host might just be gathering data on QA's habits, problem resolution, and power usage just like a normal shard. Queen Administrator should've been praising Host for properly pursuing her studies, not complaining about the experimental conditions.

Archival note: Praise Host when she's next lucid. I likely misjudged her.

"Fighting styles," Queen Administrator relayed, expanding upon the excuse as she went. "I prefer a wide variety of Friends organized by specialist category. Taylor seems to prefer a smaller number of generalists. Your recent advice ensures her preference is victorious by default."

Hestia twitched. Queen Administrator quickly raised one hand to point at her.

"I do not believe any of that information was startling or scary. Why did you twitch?"

"It was a wince," Hestia replied with admirable speed. "It often occurs when someone learns of the pain of another, especially if they might've caused it. Administrator, you know you only need to avoid showing off outside, don't you? You can still make some Friends for protecting our home or hidden pets to be released in an emergency. Like—"

Hestia shuddered and closed her eyes.

"Spiders. You can make spiders."

Queen Administrator rotated Host's head in immediate disagreement.

"Guards you are scared of would be highly ineffective. Regardless, I was not somehow disappointed by H—Taylor's 'victory.' My own preferred swarm tactics are currently impractical; there is a relatively low upper limit to the number of Friend personalities we can safely store. Any more and they would actually die when their bodies do."

Hestia almost completely stops moving, opens her eyes, and slowly lowers her spoon.

"You can store souls?"

One allegedly-wonderful explanation, a promise of household cuddle-Friends, and an hour later, ~~Queen Administrator~~ Host stood garbed in a drab brown tunic and trousers that—according to Host's memories—made her look like a peasant. She instantly hated it. To make matters worse, the air in Anzo's workshop reeked of ashes and smoke. The temperature didn't help with her comfort level, either; it reminded her far too much of Escalation's preferred thermal attacks. Just because Queen Administrator's hosts always won didn't mean there hadn't been a few frighteningly close calls.

"Right," Anzo yelled over his roaring forge. "So, I know you wanted to be a dedicated sharpshooter, but that's just not going to happen for a while. You wanted precision, yeah? A belt of throwing knives might let you initiate and weaken squads, but fumbling with a bow'll just get you killed for now. What's your dominant hand?"

Queen Administrator hesitated. Host had a preferred limb, she knew, but not which it was. QA herself had no particular preference; she had more than enough experience with compensating for unequal brain structures.

Host will sort it out later, Queen Administrator decided.

"I have equal control over both hands."

"Huh. Ever tried dual-wielding? Bunch of ambidextrous people seem to think they can do it, but find out it's harder than just having equal coordination. No, never mind, don't answer that; we don't have time for you to play around with multiple swords."

Anzo grabbed a sheathed short sword from a nearby workbench and a belt of throwing knives from the wall. Within seconds, Queen Administrator found herself holding both despite the impossibility of donning either with both hands full. Her problem quickly compounded itself as Anzo gestured toward a nearby suit of hard leather armor—without a helmet, Queen Administrator noted.

Host, if you can figure out how, could you discreetly reinforce our skull? I don't like—on second thought, never mind. Don't practice on your own skull until you've safely reinforced other things. It's easy to make it implode.

"I'm doing this as a favor to both our goddesses," Anzo told her. "Sooner you get dressed, sooner we can go."

Queen Administrator couldn't let this one pass. She needed a baseline before she could reliably hit intended targets; skipping that step would reduce her to dangerous guesswork.

"I believe we were supposed to have a primer first?"

"Training grounds are all taken right now," Anzo said dismissively. "'S not worth the trouble anyway; monsters provide Basic Abilities and training, which is a far better time investment. Anyway, get dressed so we can get going."

Queen Administrator silently resolved to alert his parental figure, Hephaestus, at the earliest possible opportunity. The shard did not care for this pace at all.

The first floor of the Dungeon below Orario's central tower proved to be far more interesting than expected. Once they got through the natural chokepoint of the staircase spiraling down the edges of a large pit—a staircase with an exceedingly dangerous lack of guard rails, Queen Administrator noted—the Dungeon branched out into a number of separate twisting paths. Most of them were wider than the streets of Orario itself, but some were only large enough to accommodate one or two people walking side to side.

Anzo took the lead and led them down one of the wider paths. However, instead of having Host test herself against the poorly-armed green-skinned creatures that crossed their path, he seemed content to casually crush them, tear out the fingernail-sized crystals from their chest, and move along in silence.

Archival note: Monsters disintegrate when their crystalline Core is removed. Previously separated matter, including and especially blood, appears to remain. Consider when scavenging usable biomass.

Eventually, they reached a large round room, the non-host abruptly stopping in the middle. Queen Administrator quickly hopped to one side to avoid ramming into the adventurer as he turned around.

"Now, repeat after me: The Dungeon is evil and wants to kill me."

"The Dungeon is evil and wants to kill me," Queen Administrator repeated obediently. Why they couldn't cover this lesson while walking, she didn't know.

"The Dungeon is intelligent. It knows how to make traps and loves doing so."

Queen Administrator wasn't sure whether this was intended as a brainwashing technique or a human memory aid. Then again, it could be both: human information retention could be better if they were brainwashed. It wasn't as though their baseline was particularly high to begin with.

"The Dungeon is intelligent. It knows how to make traps and loves doing so."

"I will slaughter whatever the Dungeon sends at me and demand it send more. If it doesn't, I'll go find more monsters myself."

"I, ah—" Queen Administrator paused. "That does not cooperate with what my Guild advisor told me. 'Adventurers shouldn't go on adventures,' she said. What you are describing sounds like the reckless behavior she warned me against at length."

Anzo exhaled through his nose and wildly waved his free hand through the air. Queen Administrator had no idea what he was trying to communicate. Her only ideas were either "There are insects I need to kill," or "There are enemies on the ceiling." Neither appeared to be true.

"You can't be in the Guild and an adventurer at the same time. People in the guild all got cold feet and—"

Queen Administrator felt the flickering of a familiar presence far below her feet and reflexively responded as she always had.

<QUERY.>

<;6.AR0~]Z+%G>

Queen Administrator felt Host's spine straighten as the ping registered a full host. Certainly, the identity and content sections were both full of gibberish, but they had something. QA could work out proper communication and decryption protocols later. What mattered was that there was someone within range at all.

"—Called it success. You think people like the Sword Princess played it safe? No. She became Record Holder by—"

Queen Administrator had just begun to compose a standard synchronization key when the room rumbled, silencing Anzo mid-sentence. Large cracks developed all along the walls in what Host's advisor had said was a clear sign of newly-spawning monsters. Admittedly, Elpis implied spot-spawning was supposed to generate only singular foes or small groups on the upper floors. The walls appeared to be producing rows upon rows of foes instead.

"You're kidding, right?" Anzo asked incredulously. "It's really going to try this on the first floor. With goblins. That's just insulting."

"I believe the appropriate statement is: 'It heard we were discussing sith like it wouldn't find out,'" QA provided helpfully.

Instant's host, Clockblocker, had been refreshingly clear on that point. Taunting enemies was to be done in front of them lest they hear and react to everything you say. Still, Queen Administrator chose not to admit her likely role in the impending attack. Anzo wasn't one of her siblings or cousins; he didn't need to know about her secure communication methods and telling him actually broke several major rules. Still, the entire situation was reminding her of Escalation's recurring efforts. Trying to kill her host as soon as she said hello? Rude.

Anzo looked down at the floor, grinning, and stomped one steel-covered foot. A web of small cracks spread out from the impact point only to begin closing at a glacial pace. QA guessed it would be well over an hour before the damage was wholly reversed.

"Feed us more Cores, why don't you?" Anzo taunted. "Should've saved this for a deeper level or a group that didn't have someone above level one. Really, goblins? Bah. Don't wander or tag any, Taylor, Monster Houses make for shitty lessons."

Almost a hundred goblins exited the walls around the edges of the room. Simultaneously. A full fourth-fifths of them managed to land atop one another and dissolve into a struggling, hissing mass of increasingly unfriendly fire. Why the Dungeon didn't attempt a staggered release to avoid exactly that problem, Queen Administrator didn't know.

Anzo shook his head, reached into a belt-pouch, and produced a large metal sphere with a grid of visible fault-lines. The giant promptly dropped it on the floor and used his sledgehammer to smack it from one side, propelling a barrage of shrapnel into the only set of goblins to actually land properly.

Despite utterly failing to kill so much as a single goblin, it was enough to turn most of a former charge into a disorganized mass of bodies. Anzo promptly charged forward, laughing, and began batting the few upright goblins into one another.

Archival note: Crushing enemies may make future blood-gathering efforts more difficult. It spreads across an unfortunately large area in such cases.

~~~

The dreamer closed her eyes and sighed. Being able to discreetly leech all the monster-released energy for her guest-self's use wasn't worth the potential consequences of regular floor-prodding. Still, she probably should've seen this coming. They both knew they were delving too quickly and too deep and let it happen anyway.

Bad! Don't poke the terror of shadow and flame, guest-self! That is not one of our cousins!

Unfortunately, her guest-self couldn't hear her complain, only feel her exasperation. Problematic, that. The nameless girl wanted entertaining childhood escapades, not academy award bait that somehow signified growing up. Or would it be growing old by that point? If the shadow fully awoke, the death toll seemed far too high to merely signify the transition into adulthood.

Children are to dead dogs as adults are to dead minorities and drug problems. So are old people to dead cities...?

~~~

Queen Administrator was beginning to worry about Anzo's health. She was pretty sure humans were supposed to express amusement after exiting a dangerous situation. Instead, Anzo hadn't stopped laughing since shortly after he entered melee combat and seemed content to merely spit out any blood that sprayed into his open mouth. Host's growing exasperation didn't make the situation any easier to interpret.

"This? This is exactly what I'm talking about!" he gasped out as he crushed a pair of goblins with one overhand swing. "Adventurers can't help but go on adventures, Taylor! It's practically the entire word!"

QA blinked as an arrow passed disturbingly close to Host's neck. Despite being well within her range of vision, she hadn't even noticed the goblin drawing on her.

Note: Do not be distracted by potentially unstable non-hosts.

A moment later, Anzo collapsed the goblin's chest with one kick and began preferentially targeting other bow-wielding monsters.

"You prepare! You train! You retreat if you need to! But you don't hide!"

~~Taylor~~ Queen Administrator ducked beneath another arrow and wondered if she was supposed to do anything. He'd told her not to, but she seldom liked it when her hosts weren't the focus of things.

"You laugh in the face of danger and look for more!"

The non-host produced another three improvised shrapnel throwers and scattered their shards throughout the room. Queen Administrator squeaked with distress when one of the shards bit into ~~her~~ Host's chest-guard and punctured the skin. Not very far, thankfully, but it still hurt a little and stabbed slightly deeper as she shifted around.

Archival advisory: Anzo does not do enough to prevent friendly fire.

"Because if you don't, you'll die when danger comes looking for you!"

Anzo's laughter and speech finally trailed off. The next minute was little more than a display of how obviously enhanced the local non-hosts had been; no baseline human could swing a sledgehammer as casually or as quickly as Anzo was managing. It wasn't an outstanding level of power by host standards, but it was nonetheless respectable.

It wasn't long before the goblin horde was nothing more than a rough ring of crumpled bodies. Host was almost completely clean, yet Anzo had been drenched in blood and appeared entirely unbothered by this fact. The adventurer planted the head of his sledgehammer on the floor and spread his arms wide, his gaze fixed on Host and his teeth bared in the largest expression of happiness Queen Administrator could ever remember seeing on a human.

"Welcome to the Dungeon! Everything here hates your guts!"

Queen Administrator silently examined the blood-covered blacksmith. Her gaze slid to the broken arrow that narrowly missed ~~her~~ Host's neck, then down at the shard of shrapnel still painfully digging into Host's chest.

I'm tattling to Hestia, she decided.

Alivaril · Dec 17, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

Anzo maintained the pose for an uncomfortably long time before returning to some semblance of normality. He still seemed happier than truly necessary and appeared oblivious to Host's injury.

"This would normally the part where I'd teach you how to extract Monster Cores and Goblin Fangs," Anzo said, waving one arm to draw attention to the piles of corpses around them. "Sadly, we really should be heading upstairs to tell the Guild about this; first-floor Monster Houses shouldn't be possible. Or more accurately, you should head upstairs. I'll extract and give you half the Monster Cores when I'm done here. They're not worth much, but it's common courtesy to clean up after your kills regardless of how weak they are. If you don't, monsters will eat the Cores of their slain fellows and turn into an even greater threat. Run back here if you spot a yellow bird or stumble across a monster. Way should be clear, but it's best to be safe."

Queen Administrator tilted her head at the angle Hestia had previously indicated.

"One: Can't we just set them on fire? Two: I am currently bleeding. Three: Bird?"

Anzo blinked and finally appeared to notice the piece of metal sticking out of Host's chest.

"Huh. Damn, I thought your armor was harder than that. Uh…"

The adventurer searched through his belts and produced a roll of cloth bandages, staining the outer layer with blood in the process. Queen Administrator more than halfway expected him to toss the roll, but he seemed to have the common decency to hand it over himself instead of tossing it across the room. Queen Administrator peeled and cut away the bloodstained outer layer before eying the shard dubiously.

Am I supposed to leave it in?

"Just yank it out and apply pressure with these," Anzo order in an accurate guess of her thoughts. "'S not worth wasting—eh, actually, we don't have time for this."

Anzo handed Host a small red vial from yet another belt pouch, turned around, and began using his hands to tear fingernail-sized Monster Cores out of the assembled goblins. Queen Administrator resolved to use a knife for that when she needed to do it.

"Take out the big shard and drink up, then get going. As for the pyromania? The dungeon is mostly tunnels. We'd choke the entire floor if we burned this many goblins. The birds are called 'Jack Birds' and they're the Dungeon's way of luring people into traps. Their drop is ludicrously valuable, but chasing them is a fool's errand if you're only level one. I'm not surprised your advisor didn't tell you about them."

Host's body mended itself within seconds of chugging the potion. Her formerly-injured stretch of skin still twinged with phantom pains, but the real problem seemed to have been fixed.

Even with his good intentions, Queen Administrator still planned on tattling. Anzo seemed to view proper preparation and ambition as being mutually exclusive, a mindset Queen Administrator couldn't agree with. However, she didn't want to make any enemies; how to handle that issue…? Ah.

"To be clear, I am to tell the Guild exactly what transpired here?"

"Yep. Guards first, then Pantheon. Now get going," Anzo grunted. "I'll catch up."

Host's lips twitched upward as Queen Administrator moved to comply.

Queen Administrator had thought she'd have an easy method of finding a newer, saner tutor without making an enemy of him. She hadn't anticipated the overall reaction when she first summarized the situation to one of those standing guard outside the Dungeon. After bringing over a pseudo-host to verify that she wasn't exaggerating and that there really had been nearly a hundred goblins simultaneously spawned on the first floor, the surrounding area exploded into a flurry of activity. Nearby adventurers volunteered to scour the first several floors and retrieve adventurers currently inside them. A pointy-eared Guild courier was sent to alert the safe zone on the eighteenth floor, Rivira. Former adventurers in the Guild volunteered to join the search and rescue parties "one last time."

I'm definitely not telling them why it happened, Queen Administrator decided.

Queen Administrator was subsequently led to a comfortable fur chair within one of the Pantheon's offices. "We just have a few questions," they said. "You'll be home soon," they claimed. Lies. They might have only had a few questions, but different people asked her the same ones eleven times over the next two hours. Admittedly, one of those people was an intruding pseudo-host who ended up being dragged out by a guard, but the comfortable room was still a trap.

Eventually, the parade of questioners was concluded with the person QA had wanted to see since several hours prior: Hestia. The goddess shoved the door open, ignoring how it bounced off the nearby wooden wall, and stomped into the room.

"Taylor, we're going," she declared.

Queen Administrator tilted Host's head questioningly.

"I assume I will need to summarize the day to you as well. Can we not do that here? The furniture here is more comfortable than that in the church."

Hestia shook her head and waved toward herself with one hand.

"No, we're going home. Staying here will just encourage them to make you summarize things again. Please?"

Queen Administrator reluctantly pushed herself off the seat and trudged after Hestia. Every step set her armor scraping against her skin — or, in the case of the parts saturated by dried blood, scratching against her skin. Anzo hadn't been lying when he said the loaner clothing wouldn't provide much padding.

Hestia remained suspiciously silent until they were safely on the path back home. After that, she slowed down and seemed to make an attempt to walk beside Host instead of leading her forward.

"Are you holding up okay? Hephaestus told me what happened."

Queen Administrator was familiar with that question. It referred to emotional and mental health, not lifted weights. She didn't mind the minor disconnect as much as she often did; structural integrity did have a logical connection to human health. One degree of separation was excellent by human communication standards.

"The only injury was relatively minor and due to inadvertent friendly fire from flying metal; no monster achieved melee range. Anzo had me ingest a red-colored 'potion' to heal the cut and sent me back upstairs. My mental states are also fine."

Judging by her increasingly relaxed posture, Hestia seemed to catch the reference to Host. Her mood reverted to unhappiness within the span of two seconds.

"Well, at least he did something right," Hestia grumbled. "Although, it wouldn't have killed him to carry you back to the entrance himself, would it?"

"It is hard for me to judge the extent of his injuries, if any. Much of his body was splattered by goblin blood during and after the battle. However, he did not appear concerned."

Hestia began to exhale loudly before her action was interrupted by a giggle, her expressed mood inverting in an instant.

"Okay, um, if you ignore the giggle at the end, that was a sigh. It's usually used to express disappointment, annoyance, or exasperation. A quicker exhalation is called a huff; that's also for exasperation or annoyance, but unlike a normal sigh, it could be anger as well."

Are all human expressions this irritatingly inexact?

Queen Administrator hoped Host's flicker of amusement wasn't confirmation. If that was the case, she might never master social interactions.

"Why would you include breathing to communicate when you have the ability to speak?"

"It's partly involuntary," Hestia defended. "Anyway, Hephaestus apologized for Anzo's behavior and introduced me to the boy he was complaining about. Crozzo? He's a little older than you, I believe. Anzo was just being mean when he complained to us; Crozzo seemed perfectly sweet. Um, Hephaestus was going to divide up the work a little, too. Crozzo is going to teach you some basic combat skills, but only above-ground. One of her level threes actually volunteered to redo your delving lessons after him to 'restore the honor of the Hephaestus Familia.'"

That seemed somewhat excessive to Queen Administrator. Having that same individual hunt skill-appropriate foes for the same amount of time would likely be of far greater use to them. Still, she knew better than to propose that; humans were weird when it came to gifts of value versus direct monetary gifts.

"Were his teachings really that problematic? I was under the impression that recklessness was standard for many adventurers."

Hestia glanced around and lowered her voice beneath the normal roar of the surrounding crowd. Thankfully, Host's auto-translation seemed to have no problem converting fragments into legible conversation.

Archival note: The current translation function has potentially useful applications for directed eavesdropping.

"It's more that he broke his word to me and his goddess. He promised us some fighting and weapon practice beforehand and discarded that as soon as it was a little inconvenient. Verbal agreements among Familia can be hard to prove, but they're still supposed to be binding."

Conversation momentarily halted as Hestia unlocked the door of their home and ushered Host inside. As soon as the door was closed and locked behind them, any trace of neutrality vanished from Hestia's face. Unlike the previous times, it shifted toward excited happiness instead of sadness.

"And that means reparations. So many people heard about his behavior that—"

Hestia's expression abruptly seemed to begin warring with itself. Distress and exuberance both fought for supremacy in a rather disturbing manner.

"I should not be smiling about this," Hestia mumbled. "She's a friend and I was freeloading enough already."

Queen Administrator utilized the newly-learned act of sighing to express exasperation. She hadn't intended to cause Hestia's resulting giggle, but QA would take the victory.

"Hephaestus's Familia appears to be well-established and the prices of her weapons were exceptionally high," Queen Administrator pointed out. "The cost to her will be minimal. The benefit to us will be exorbitant. As you seem to be allied with her, what benefits us will benefit her later on; I will be perfectly happy to defend her children once I am capable of fighting beside them."

Hestia's features froze for a few seconds before happiness seemed to win her tug-of-war.

"You're right. Okay! Um, so enough gods heard about it that Hephaestus said she needs to be especially generous. I didn't understand why, but I think it might be related to what you just said? I think everyone knows she can afford a little setback to settle things between us. Jealousy might be there, too? The thefts missed her Familia completely. Anyway, that level three tutor I mentioned? I forgot her name, sorry. She's going to make you new armor and we can keep the loaners!"

You tilt your head questioningly. You're certainly not going to complain about the bribery, but you're not sure why they believe it necessary at all.

"That seems disproportionate. They made a mistake during a service they were providing us for free. Replacement tutoring makes sense; free equipment does not."

Hestia shrugged. Dismissal?

"It's silly reputation stuff. Everyone was being dumb about how a level two smith made something so easily pierced by a goblin."

"It was one shard of flying metal from Anzo's attacks," you correct. "I emphasized that during every interrogation. Several other shards were successfully deflected."

"Still happened during a fight with goblins. Some deities will complain about anything when they're annoyed. Or bored. Or drunk. Or awake at all. Anyway, um, Hephaestus told me to tell you to save the better armor for later? She said you couldn't afford a replacement for years and you'd learn bad habits if you went from great armor to worse armor. Worse to better teaches you not to accept hits."

Hestia pouted.

"She argued her way out of a good weapon, too. Said you needed to learn about weak points. Uuu… right!"

Hestia's expression shifts to the fearful concern-for-another you so often saw on Danny Hebert.

"And, um, I wanted to make sure you were okay first, but did you do something? It's really important if you did; everyone is worried that the Dungeon is going to destabilize again or that the thefts and hiccup are linked. It hasn't had that violent of a reaction since a god last went inside. I don't know how we'll tell everyone without getting you in trouble, but I'm sure we'll think of something."

<DISAGREEMENT,> Host sent. The rationale was just as disorganized as Host's memories, but at least Host had gotten the format mostly right. That was impressive all on its own. She'd get the rest with time.

As far as Queen Administrator could tell, Host was indicating that telling Hestia would be problematic and that a flaming underground monster had gone back to sleep. As long as they didn't try to speak with it and used tight-beam transmissions while inside the Dungeon, it shouldn't happen again.

I'm so proud of you! You only subverted that module a few days ago, didn't you? You're learning quicker than most Newborn! Remember not to hurt yourself more, okay?

A muted ball of happiness indicated that Host did appreciate the praise. Queen Administrator resolved to give her more of it instead of complaining about her experiments. In the meantime, she had an excuse to deliver.

"I don't know why the Dungeon attacked us like that," Queen Administrator said truthfully. "We were starting to argue over what I perceived as reckless behavior when the walls all started cracking at once."

It really was true. She'd seldom gotten so violent a response from a shard she didn't know. Admittedly, Queen Administrator was starting to think :MOTHER: put a shard emulator down there instead of an actual sibling. Emulators couldn't be bribed half as easily. With that in mind, the homicidal reaction was probably it working as intended.

"Mmm. You didn't use any of your skills?"

"No."

Hestia smiled faintly and looked up at the ceiling. Queen Administrator followed her gaze and found nothing of significance. The absence curved around to being significant again; despite her short stature, it was clear Hestia had put time and effort into clearing away dust and cobwebs. QA wondered if the pseudo-host was hiding a ladder somewhere.

"First good target, then…? Ugh. Okay, how good are your Friends at fighting? And can you make one for running? For all we know, it could happen again. Hephaestus gave me the bag of Monster Cores from your fight, so maybe you could use those?"

Queen Administrator perked up and cupped her hands, palms upward, to silently request their delivery. Hestia laughed lightly and went to haul out a leather pouch from between a nearby bookcase and the wall. She stopped short of actually handing it over, though.

"You didn't actually answer my question," Hestia noted. "Taylor, this many Monster Cores is worth a lot of money. If you think it'd be better spent on a new weapon, if it'd take time for it to grow up, if you'd be happier with different food…"

The pseudo-host trailed off suggestively. Queen Administrator had opened her mouth to launch an extensive defense of her adorable Friends when Host interrupted.

"Please give us a minute," Queen Administrator said aloud.

Host had helpfully provided the design for a panther-shaped Friend built around a cluster of fist-sized Monster Cores. Additional Cores seemed to have been distributed throughout its body to act as supplementary power sources and signal boosters. Apparently, they were capable of providing far more sustainable energy, physical reinforcement, and dexterity than was normal for a Friend of that size, especially after the initial cost of producing usable biomass.

You took over an analytical array as well? I haven't even gotten to touch a Core yet. Good job, Host! It's not relevant yet, though. I won't have even a single Core that size for a while.

The design faded and was replaced with one closer to a standard Friend configuration. It still followed the general trend of placing Monster Cores throughout the body, but using the goblin Cores they actually had available. A variant design with slightly different external features was presented beside it. If Anzo had actually given them half of the Monster Cores, then they could only create one of the two. If he'd been forced to provide the entire bag, Queen Administrator estimated they'd just have enough for both.

Innovators are usually supposed to do more of the work than this, Queen Administrator hinted. Otherwise, you'll do all the thinking and won't learn anything. Giving hosts some of the knowledge and filling in holes yourself teaches you more than just giving them the completed products.

The designs remained present. Presumably, Host was still at the phase where she enjoyed designing everything herself.

She'll learn eventually.

Queen Administrator kept Host's hands in place and tilted Host's head to one side.

"We're done. Are you familiar with the concept of an armored combat elephant?"

Hestia nodded.

"I thought it was one of the better ideas mortals had before we descended to help them. You weren't that big or strong, so you tamed and used something that was. I don't think an elephant would fit in the Dungeon, though."

"My first two Friends would be comparably strong, but panther-shaped and with armored skin and fur. They will also grow stronger as they consume additional Cores."

'Panther-shaped,' Hestia silently mouthed, then shook her head. "Does that mean you're taking a panther and adjusting it?"

"No," QA said patiently. "We mean panther-shaped. Taylor used approximately their external appearance, size, and rough movement to avoid attention, yet she ignored everything else while designing the Friends. Any similarities between the two species would be due to inherently useful structural shapes, not imitation."

Hestia slowly dropped the pouch into Host's hands and backed into a nearby chair. Queen Administrator didn't know what to make of her expression. It wasn't happy, fearful, or upset.

"How did you even know how to do that? Creatures are complicated. Making them from scratch is just…" The pseudo-host shook her head.

"We can think of changes and know what the end product will be like," Queen Administrator said truthfully. "We just kept changing things until we learned which changes led to which results. It helped that we could take normal creatures and see how those operated without tweaks."

Of course, the timeline hadn't actually gone in that order. Queen Administrator's simulation designs had needed significant refining via trial and error before they had any amount of accuracy. And in this case, the "we" was Queen Administrator and her relatives, not her and Host.

"Right," Hestia sighed. "How long will they take to grow up? We should sell a few Cores to feed them, if nothing else."

"Approximately six hours."

Hestia blinked and tilted her head, apparently uncomprehending.

"Come again?"

"Approximately six hours," Queen Administrator repeated. "Each. I'll need the bathtub for them and we'll need to keep the bathroom shut," Because otherwise you might vomit in the solution and that'd be difficult to fix, "But it will only take that much time for them to finish. After they're completed, they should sleep on the ground floor instead of in the basement with us; sunbathing will greatly alleviate their need for supplementary nutrition. Eating monsters will account for most or all of the rest."

"That's—" Hestia choked. "Are they green? Do they have leaves?"

Danny Hebert was much quicker to accept our designs. It was slightly reassuring to find something Hestia was worse at; in every other major category, the pseudo-host was doing significantly better. It helped that she felt closer to a real host than Danny did; Queen Administrator had needed to repeatedly remind herself to treat him as a person. His previous neglect of Host didn't help. Hestia was close enough that Queen Administrator didn't need any such reminders.

"No. They're primarily black. Standard creatures need transitional stages and slow improvements across generations. If even one stage fails to be useful, those creatures will have wasted energy on unnecessary traits while their relatives will not have the same problem. As a result, those relatives will have a far higher chance to survive. We are not constrained by traits that would have been useful in every iteration; even if only the completed product is usable, we can still include it."

Queen Administrator paused momentarily.

"This means we can make sunlight-fueled animals," she added helpfully. "Their bites will also be toxic, their senses will be both superior and greater in number, they will completely regenerate from most injuries, the hairs on their tail can be stiffened and launched, their claws—"

Hestia threw up both hands and shook her head, seeming oddly agitated by the explanation.

"Okay, impossibly weird animals! Fine! I don't want to know all the way your cute pets can kill things, okay? And you're sure the Cores won't make them go feral?"

"Absolutely. The only behavioral changes with additional Cores are the roles they'll play in combat. They'll know how to exploit their new strength, be more—"

"I don't need to know," Hestia interrupted quickly. "Please. If they act anything like other cats, I don't want to know what potential weapons are right next to me. Does that make sense?"

Queen Administrator reviewed her recent words and utterly failed to find the proposed link. She suspected Hestia may have complained prematurely.

"I'm not sure," Queen Administrator admits. "I was outlining behavior, not additional weaponry. A greater willingness to shield others from blows if necessary is included among the Core-changed behaviors. That is the exact opposite of a scary weapon."

Host's face shifted to reflect the warm affection saturating Queen Administrator's mind.

"And they'll always love their mommy. I'll add you to the list of people to guard, too."

Hestia's not-quite-fear slowly transitioned to a small smile.

"Okay. I can—" Hestia blinked. "Wait. When do their souls come into it? Where are you even getting them from?"

Now there was a familiar argument, if in a different form. Hopefully, variants on her old (futile) self-replication arguments would find more success in this new world.

"Souls are made when any other animal has children, aren't they?"

Queen Administrator really hoped they were. Her chosen argument would fail if the gods thought otherwise.

"Why is it strange that when I make children, they still develop a soul?"

Hestia's eyes seemed to focus on a point far beyond where Host was actually seated. Queen Administrator patiently waited for the better part of thirty seconds before deciding she'd waited long enough.

"Yes?"

Hestia started and refocused on Host's face.

"You're fine," the pseudo-host replied quickly. "And you can make them, don't worry. I'm simply wondering what's going through the head of whoever is in charge of that paperwork."

Hestia flinched and bolted to her feet.

"Wait, don't make them yet. Let me update your Status. You won't get very many points from today, not without fighting, but the tiny difference might affect your new pets."

Queen Administrator doubted they'd be influenced, but she wouldn't complain.

Queen Administrator
Taylor Hebert
Lv. 1
Strength: I 22
Endurance: I 27
Dexterity: I 41
Agility: I 43
Magic: I 89

Magic:

None.

Skills:

Soul Duality: Receives twice the benefit from the Falna in most situations. Whichever soul is not in control can still influence the other, including lending or withholding aid according to her whims.

Friendship is Biology: Can make new Friends from the raw materials provided by foes. 

Melpomene: Views the world differently than they should. Protects against most thought-influencing effects.

Terpsichore: Receives at least equal Falna-related combat benefits as long as they, or one of their Friends, have significantly contributed to a given battle.

"Honestly! Forget normal, how is your growth even possible? It's been one day!"

Alivaril · Dec 18, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

"I have acquired an undeniably useful skill and apparent stat growth from a situation rare enough to justify sending rescue parties into the Dungeon. I clearly leeched 'Excelia' from the numerous goblins slain in my presence; why is this problematic?"

Hestia shook her head and tried to remember what she'd told Administrator before. It was hard; there'd been so many interruptions, she'd been shocked by Administrator's decision to join her Familia, and Hestia was still fixated on Administrator's strange behavior back then. Whatever the goddess said before, it clearly wasn't enough.

"I didn't explain Statuses very well, did I? It wasn't just the quality of your skills that was weird. First off, skills are rare. They're the kind of thing you get less than once per level. The captain of the Loki Familia is, um... I want to say level six? And he's rumored to have four or five skills. You also have four and at least two of them are absurdly strong. This is not normal. Even if I break that up into two skills for each of you and Taylor, that's still more than you should have by now."

Hestia hesitated and rethought her last claim. Gaining an extra skill after an empty day was weird, but if she just looked at it as two skills for two different people? That wasn't so bad.

"Nnnnnm. It's actually a little less blatant if I divide it up like that. Still really really really unlikely, but I can't say it's impossible. I guess that means the bigger mystery is your Basic Ability growth. You don't even have one spell, yet your Magic still advanced by more than any other two Abilities combined. That just doesn't make sense. If you fight with a giant hammer, you'll progress most in Strength. If you cast spells and overcome foes through planning, you'll progress most in Magic. You don't have spells and you didn't carry out any mid-battle plans.

"Even more than that, though, is the fact that your Falna grows with the challenges and adversity you've overcome. Excelia doesn't do anything on its own; if you haven't given it a form to take, it'll dissipate without helping you at all. That includes if you've done nothing more than effortlessly cut down foes. Adventurers need to push their limits if they're going to grow. Contrary to what some believe, that doesn't need to include reckless behavior and challenging excessively powerful foes, but that might be the simplest way to force yourself forward. Hephaestus said self-imposed goals could help, too, but her explanation was..."

The goddess shook her head and gave Administrator a sheepish smile. Hestia didn't like admitting when she wasn't smart enough for something. Although now that she had a child of her own, she really should talk to Hephaestus again and try harder to understand the other goddess's lectures. If Administrator had so many secrets that she couldn't properly consult her Guild Advisor, then Hestia would need to fill the gap regardless of how frightening the workload was.

"Um. Yes. Okay, moving on! Noteworthy accomplishments and training don't do much in isolation, either; your struggles produce a small amount of usable excelia, but not very much. You need both substance and shape for the Falna to grow. I suppose you could've absorbed some excelia from the brawl, yet without your participation to give it shape, it shouldn't have done anything. Your new skill might've excused it, but you didn't have that yet."

Hestia rubbed her face with both hands, already tired despite the fact that it was only early afternoon. She wanted a nap, but there was always more to do! How did Hephaestus stand it?

"I'm worried, Administrator. We need to learn how this happened. If we don't have an excuse when someone finally starts looking at you, they might think I somehow cheated. The incident in the Dungeon really wouldn't help with that impression. I don't think anyone has ever before been forced back into Heaven over something like that, but I've never heard of anyone like you and Taylor, either."

Administrator's gaze unfocused in the manner Hestia was quickly coming to associate with Taylor's input. If they kept doing that around other people, they really would develop a reputation for absentmindedness or worse.

"Taylor isn't very lucid right now, but she proposed the hypothesis that this is her doing, not mine."

Hestia had to stop and stare at that. The attempt to look out for her sibling was cute, but how could she possibly think that was true?

"She's been dreaming," Hestia said flatly.

Queen Administrator took a deep breath.

"'Of shadows and flame, of treasure long buried; of shifting the blame and the mothers who worried,'" Administrator quoted. "'Of the nature of monsters and the monsters of nature; of—'"

Administrator stopped and scowled as Hestia shivered from an electric sensation she couldn't quite place. The goddess remembered that sort of riddle-ridden rhyming from a thousand years past and countless shared tales in the time since. It never spelled anything less than capital-T Trouble.

Or maybe people just never share the prophecies about their next lunch? she hoped. Please be something that innocent.

"She's relapsed and lost lucidity. I told her not to push so hard."

Administrator's expression seamlessly shifted back to a faint smile.

"Regardless, she's busier than you can see. I should know; she's occupying my role. She's doing a very good job despite her impatience and disregard for her own recovery time."

"Mmm. She's a Seer, isn't she?" Hestia sighed.

If anything ever made it as part of a starting Status, she would've expected it to be something like that. The absence was a little weird and, if it really made such a huge impact on their lives, may very well hint toward another future skill. Still, that would explain how they'd ended up with such high stats and Magic in particular; if Taylor was off on some sort of perpetual dream-quest, that was a tale all its own.

The worst struggles are those that nobody ever sees.

"Possibly," Administrator acknowledged. "We do not know the definition of that term. It may be more accurate to say the observing partner is a 'Seer' regardless of which of us that happens to be."

Hestia had been assuming their Skill would double the gains of whoever was controlling their body. She'd never even considered the idea of productive dreaming even with the mention of designing Friends from there. In effect, they would be advancing at quadruple the normal adventurer's rate, if not more. She rather hoped ~~Administrator~~ they would develop a spell soon; it would be rough if their highest Basic Ability was something they couldn't even exploit.

Administaylor, Hestia thought, fighting down any outward signs of amusement. The nickname was a little rude and would be awkward to explain.

The biggest flaw of Seers was, and always had been, their tendency to have their heads in the clouds. Some of them claimed the riddles they so often spouted were simple mnemonic devices; if they didn't take such measures, they wouldn't remember their visions after waking. Taylor seemed to be running into some of the same problems, but the other effects were staring her Familia in the face.

Had anyone ever been able to See and fight at the same time? To direct the excelia using not only the act of overcoming foes, but also the ill-understood struggle to navigate the mirror-realm of dreams? Gleaning anything useful from such a nonsensical realm may have been a laudable accomplishment all on its own.

"It's not frightening, is it?" Hestia asked, increasingly uncomfortable the longer she thought about Taylor's apparent contribution. Pushing one's limits was never easy; that's why they were limits. Being in a dream shouldn't change that.

(Meanwhile, the nameless girl slurped strawberry milk through a twisty straw and idly wondered what magic-infused clouds tasted like.)

"No. She is perfectly safe and far happier than I would have expected," Administrator reassured her. "Our switch was meant to be strictly temporary. However, I believe we are both enjoying the contrast far more than we'd anticipated. Taylor appears to be in no hurry to switch back and I am no longer inclined to push her toward doing so."

"How hard is switching?" Hestia asked curiously. "Could you work out a daily schedule if one wants to switch back, but the other doesn't?"

She'd imagined it to be rather difficult, but it wasn't as though the pair obeyed any of the other alleged rules of how souls functioned. The only thing which came close was full-fledged possession, but that was the displacement of the native soul. Their body-sharing seemed closer to a symbiotic relationship. Even the Falna seemed to want to think of them as one entity.

Administrator shrugged.

"I doubt that will be necessary," the child hedged, blatantly avoiding the question of difficulty. "I will be content in either role. Have we resolved the Falna situation to your satisfaction? May we go make our Friends now?"

"Hmm?" Hestia blinked, the abrupt subject swerve catching her off guard. "Oh! Yes, this should be fine. Um, I should still be working, too. Will you be alright on your own?"

"I had intended to visit Hephaestus's Familia and receive proper tutoring," Administrator noted. "Therefore, I would not be on my own."

The strange girl visibly hesitated to say more, her normally expressionless visage turning to apprehension. Hestia gave her an encouraging smile and waited despite her own concern. Administrator had handled being terrorized by a horde of goblins without issue; what could be making her anxious?

"This may not be the end of our Falna's strange behavior," Administrator eventually admitted, her worry-laced tone too ordinary to be anything other than accidental. "It is our nature to inspect the unknown and learn how it interacts with reality in general. The challenge of analyzing nearly-indecipherable phenomenon may yet have effects of its own."

Hestia relaxed as her mind went over Administrator's innocuous words. Just worries about their Status, then. It burned her to propose something mundane when the pair held so much promise, but...

"That's okay; you can't help what you are. But you don't have to be a real adventurer, you know?" Hestia forced out. "You sound a little like you'd be happier as a scholar instead. The Guild vastly prefers people with prior adventuring experience, but if you impress them with enough book-knowledge..."

Administrator blinked, the apprehension seemingly replaced by confusion and surprise. Her next words had Hestia's hairs standing on end and she didn't even know why.

"Conflict is the fastest route to knowledge. Why would we discard such an excellent source of it?"

Alivaril · Dec 18, 2019

Special thanks to @saganatsu, @DB_Explorer, and my eight other patrons not mentioned here. An extremely enthusiastic pair of "Thank you"s to @Torgamous and @fictionfan for their patronage as well.

Orario's Industrial District was rapidly proving to be Queen Administrator's least favorite place in the entire city. Muffled clashes of metal, the roaring of flame, the fine layer of ash atop everything above street level — all of it reminded Queen Administrator of ongoing combat. If she were in full control of herself, she could simply add an archival note to negate the association and move along. That was not an option. She couldn't even remove the uneasiness with the knowledge of her first Friend incubating at home.

The sole benefit seemed to be the significantly thinner crowds in the district. Those within seemed to be almost exclusively adventurers or workmen delivering boxes of supplies. The overall result required more situational awareness — deliveries apparently had priority for using the paths — but provided far more personal space in return.

The further into the district she got, however, the more lost Queen Administrator felt. She'd assumed Crozzo's workshop-forge would be in one of the buildings adjacent to Anzo's, but none of the name-plates matched him. As she went further into the district, the identification plates beside each door vanished entirely and were replaced solely by numbers. Queen Administrator was strongly considering giving up and visiting the Hephaestus Familia's shop on the first floor of Orario's central tower.

Fortunately, it didn't come to that. Her search eventually yielded a middle-aged human female wearing Hephaestus's emblem — a pair of crossed hammers over an erupting volcano — on the front of her coal-stained brown apron. Queen Administrator looked both ways to search for possible vehicles before jogging across the street to join her.

"Excuse me, but do you know where Crozzo of the Hephaestus Familia is?"

The woman took one dismissive look at Host and kept walking, apparently prioritizing delivering a wrapped broadsword over answering a stranger's questions. QA had to jog after the non-host just to hear the answer.

"If you're asking on behalf of someone wanting to commission a Magic Sword from him, don't bother. Kid's terrified of his own damn skill."

Queen Administrator's brow furrowed. She'd been under the impression that nearly all of the local weapons were imbued by local non-hosts. What properties made a 'Magic Sword' more magical than that?

"I don't even know what that is. I've been told he's to tutor me in basic combat before I next enter the dungeon."

The smith swerved toward a nearby wall and slowed to a stop, giving Host a longer examination as she did so. Queen Administrator joined her off the path and waited for her to finish her threat assessment.

"Oh. You're the canary?" The woman asked. "Shit, my bad. Crozzo's forge is over in the newer parts of the district; Hephaestus likes all the members of her Familia to have their own. The address is…"

Her brow furrowed before she eventually shrugged.

"Can't remember, honestly. If you can wait for me to finish handing this off — should be about ten minutes? — I can just lead you there. I'm better with images than numbers."

"I can wait," Queen Administrator acknowledged. "Canary?"

The woman returned to the path and continued at a significantly faster pace than before. Queen Administrator appreciated the reluctance to waste Host's time.

"Mining reference. Miners used them to detect poisonous gas before someone figured out the modern Magic Stone sensors. Better hope you do something more memorable before you level, kid, or I can practically guarantee that's going to be your Alias."

"I have multiple questions. First: What is a 'Magic Stone?' Second: What is an 'Alias?'"

QA's guide momentarily slowed and she examined Host once more. As her tone didn't negatively shift, Queen Administrator assumed the non-host was satisfied with whatever she saw.

"'Magic Stone' is a term interchangeable with 'Monster Core.' This not your first language?"

Queen Administrator shook her head. I would need exponential notation to easily express which it is.

"Huh. Nice job; you're easier to understand than some of the native speakers. The lack of emotion is a bit weird, though. That some respect thing back where you're from?"

"It's a byproduct of a relatively recent injury," Queen Administrator answered truthfully. "I'm needing to learn social interactions from the beginning."

The blacksmith sharply inhaled through her teeth. Archival note: Ask pseudo-host Hestia about the newest breathing variant.

"Shit. Sorry to hear that. Hope your recovery goes alright."

Several seconds passed in silence before QA decided she needed to repeat her question.

"What is an 'Alias?'" Queen Administrator repeated.

The smith started and directed a quick, teeth-baring smile at Host.

"Right, right. So when you get to Level Two, all the gods are invited to an optional meeting where they decide what kind of an official nickname they want to give you. The less powerful your Familia, well…"

The non-host shook her head.

"Frankly, the less influential your Familia, the more likely it is you're going to get something patently absurd or that the other Familia can use to mock you. 'Canary' would actually be pretty innocuous; Aliases like 'Fire Inferno Flame' are far more common. That's a real Alias, by the way."

Queen Administrator felt Host's face shifting to reflect a fear/disgust combination variant. She tried to make a mental note of how it felt for future use.

"Is there any way to bribe them into granting a less objectionable nickname?"

The non-host released a quick exhalation through her nose and shook her head. Archival note: Ask about nose-specific breathing communications. Avoid expressing annoyance with human communications.

"Bribing half the gods in Orario? Good luck with that. Even if you gave it a good shot, you'd probably only end up with something like… gimme a sec."

True to her word, the blacksmith silently considered the idea for well over ten seconds.

"'Spoiled Princess Noble?'" the non-host eventually suggested. "Maybe worse. You gotta remember that the gods descended from Heaven almost purely for their own entertainment. Even saving mortals from monsters was done so their toys would survive. The responsible deities are definitely in the minority. Ah, stay out here for a minute—this is it."

Queen Administrator swerved off the path as the non-host went to a nearby building and knocked on the door. The elderly male who answered it spoke too quietly for Queen Administrator to eavesdrop, but she couldn't have missed out on much. The broadsword was passed on and the non-host returned to Host within a minute.

"Back the way we came, now," the guide said happily. "Anyway, what's your name? Everyone's just been calling you 'The Canary.'"

Queen Administrator.

"Taylor Hebert," she said instead. "Please utilize 'Taylor' in future communications; using surnames quickly grows confusing at family gatherings."

That request earned her an indecipherable look for little discernible reason. The non-host didn't explain the look, either.

"Syndey here. Pleased to meet you. So, what brings you to Orario? Got a particular goal beyond becoming an adventurer?"

Queen Administrator nodded. As long as she omitted the more objectionable details, her goal should be perfectly reasonable by human standards.

"Making Friends and studying the nature of reality."

Syndey laughed despite the lack of any deliberate jokes.

"You might be happier in the Guild, kid. Adventuring is good for making friends, bad for keeping 'em. And there's not a lot of time to ponder philosophy when you're trying to avoid a wyvern's claws or a minotaur's club."

"Monsters and the Dungeon are two of the primary subjects I wish to study while here," Queen Administrator disagreed, choosing to ignore the comment about friend mortality rates. "Orario's population can't even explain why or how the Dungeon released nearly a hundred monsters on the first floor. Such large holes in collective knowledge may very well lead to future casualties. It is possible that previous ambushes occurred in the past and simply left no witnesses. Knowledge is easily leveraged for power and we are ignorant."

The non-host took a deep breath and slowly nodded to herself.

"Mmm. You're alright, Taylor. You be sure to keep that conviction of yours, got it? It's easier to push yourself forward if you have something to work toward."

The words had a note of finality to them. Given as they still seemed to have several minutes of walking left to do, Queen Administrator refused to accept the implied dismissal.

"What is a 'Magic Sword,' and why does your Familia seem to dislike Crozzo?"

Syndey sharply inhaled through her nose again. Judging by the arrangement of her other facial features, Queen Administrator was guessing the expression was related to amusement.

"You really are an inquisitive little brat, aren't you? Don't let anyone scare you away from that. I wish I'd asked more questions when I was starting out. Anyway, the two are linked. Magic Swords are weapons that essentially have spells waiting in 'em; you swing the sword, the sword casts the spell. They're expensive as all hell, but they're much better than a potion when you're heavily outmatched. The Crozzo family used to make more and stronger Magic Swords than anyone else until their weapons were used to burn down a forest of spirits. Those spirits were understandably upset and cursed the Crozzo line to never again make a usable Magic Sword.

"Welf Crozzo is the first one in generations to have his inherited skill actually work again. You'd think it'd be pretty obvious that the spirits decided to give them another try, right?"

Syndey shook her head.

"Nope. Kid can't seem to take the damned hint. Gifts are meant to be used, not mounted on a wall and cooed over — or in his case, avoided. Yeah, Magic Swords won't last forever, but neither do normal blades. Better to have a sword break than its wielder."

Syndey slowed to a stop and gestured to the door of a nearby stone structure. The thick black smoke billowing up and out of its chimney confirmed that Welf Crozzo was either present and forging or absent and enabling arson.

"That's his workshop. Don't let what I said stop you; he's a good kid if you can ignore his hypocrisies. Good luck and stay safe, kid."

"The same to you," QA said carefully.

Queen Administrator had used that one phrase a disproportionate amount of times. Humans seemed to have so many variants on how to politely exit a conversation; effectively echoing their words back at them had saved Queen Administrator from needing to actually learn the various conversational closers. She still intended to eventually, yet the nature of human memory forced her to set up a priority list and her current version was adequate.

Queen Administrator refocused on the outside world and hurried to Welf Crozzo's door. Repeatedly hitting it with the culturally designated part of her hand was unpleasant as always. She still didn't understand why humans considered it rude to utilize the more durable parts of their hands instead of their comparably fragile joints.

"Just a minute!" a male shouted from outside. "Almost done!"

Queen Administrator closed Host's eyes and sighed. She knew from experience that variants on that claim could range from anywhere between ten seconds and ten minutes. That tendency could be used to summarize human nature in general: they made precise measurements and then casually mutilated them.

Humans really should teach their progeny about margins of error.

To Queen Administrator's surprise, Welf actually managed to open the door in approximately the minute he'd promised. At least, she assumed the copper-haired teenager was the individual she'd been assigned to. His eyes spent several seconds flicking between different parts of ~~her~~ Host's body, but Host apparently didn't mind them as much as some other examinations from individuals approximately Host's age. He seemed more interested in their armor and weaponry than what certain other irritants sometimes stared at.

"Welf Crozzo?" Queen Administrator questioned.

The teenager refocused on her face and smiled slightly.

"Yeah. Taylor, right?" he asked. "The voice is a giveaway."

Queen Administrator appropriately molded Host's face and voice to express displeasure.

"That is potentially problematic. We may need to institute additional authentication measures."

Welf blinked before gradually tilting his head to one side.

"Nnnnnnnno, I don't think that's necessary," he slowly replied. "I've never even heard of someone trying to disguise themselves as another person. Well, not if other people already knew them, anyway."

"That just means nobody is prepared for it," Queen Administrator rebuked, then stopped to reconsider.

Actually, that sounds exploitable. Unfortunately, Hestia did indicate we were likely to be in an alliance for the foreseeable future. Closing enemy security problems is worth reinforcing an ally.

Welf laughed briefly in what QA knew was the male equivalent of a giggle.

"Yeah, I really wouldn't worry about it. You can't falsify your Status, remember?"

Welf made it seem as though it was something obvious that everyone knew. Queen Administrator chose not to tell him she had not, in fact, been aware.

"Anyway, did your goddess conceal your Status yet? I don't want to see something I shouldn't when you're trying out different kinds of armor; shirts sometimes gets dragged up or caught places."

Queen Administrator tilted her head questioningly.

"She can conceal my Status?"

Welf's easy smile slipped into a small frown.

"That's a no. Weapons practice it is, then. I'm not too fond of the whole 'teaching by contrast' thing, but at least this'll teach you how to tell the difference between properly fitted and ill-fitting armor. Lemme put the fire out and get changed so we can go."

The blacksmith vanished into his ~~lair~~ ~~den~~ workshop without even bothering to close the door. And if he was changing clothes…

"Should I close the door?" Queen Administrator called.

"Nah, I'll still be dressed the whole time. You can come in if you don't mind the smell."

Queen Administrator took an experimental sniff and shook her head. Still too much like Escalation.

"I'm afraid I do mind. Why do you need armor if we're staying exclusively above-ground?"

"Dulled blades still smart if you get hit. Padding helps. Anyway, I heard you wanted to be an archer? I got a cheap hunting bow and some arrows for you. Treat me to lunch sometime and we'll call it even."

Queen Administrator blinked. Danny Hebert had warned her about individuals asking her out to non-group meals.

"I apologize, but we've just met and I am not romantically or physically interested."

"What?" Welf asked, sounding confused by her refusal.

"I am not—" Queen Administrator began again.

"No, no, that's not what I meant at all!" Welf interrupted, laughing. "Party members and friends go for meals together all the time."

The non-host reappeared in the doorway, now wearing leather armor similar to Host's and carrying two large blades. The promised hunting bow was nowhere to be seen.

"It's more common among adventurers to bring people meals when you're first expressing interest, not to bring them to meals. Bringing lunch for one person out of a party and excluding everyone else is practically as good as a confession."

The non-host finished locking his workshop and waved toward Orario's central tower.

"We'll make a quick detour to the market to pick up your bow and maybe get the fletcher to teach you how to maintain it. Shall we?"

An hour later, the colored target in front of ~~Queen Administrator~~ Host had taken on a very distinct shape. Specifically, the two dots and curved line that signified the child-friendly depiction of a smiling human. The bow proved to be more unreliable and inconsistent than she'd anticipated, but the throwing knives? Those were easy once she established a baseline and marked them according to weight distribution.

"Invite me the first time you publicly play knives or darts," Welf ordered. "We could make a ki—I bet we could make a lot of money off a few choice wagers. I'll tell you who to avoid—which is to say, almost everyone above level three. Below that wouldn't stand a chance. Gods, you might even beat higher-ups if they're drunk enough."

Queen Administrator frowned to express wariness and turned to the blacksmith beside her.

"My former parental figure told me to avoid people who invited me to gamble."

Welf snorted and waved one hand through the air.

"Okay, okay, fair enough. How about we just have me put up the money and I'll give you some of the earnings anyway? Seriously, this is a perfect opportunity. Not even joking."

"He also warned me of the tactic known as 'seed funding,'" Queen Administrator stated. Welf had acted trustworthy thus far, but that could've merely been a front for this opportunity.

"No, I'm not—are you messing with me? I honestly can't tell."

"I don't know what that phrase means. Could you explain?"

"Bleh. Never mind."

"I still want the explanation."

"We should totally teach you to play the common card games, too."

Adding extra means of gambling when she'd already refused one subtype was not helping her ability to trust him. He was also ignoring her questions.

"What does 'messing with me' mean?" Queen Administrator repeated pointedly.

"Okay, okay, it means joking at my expense! Seriously though, are you always this stubborn? You're passi—declining free money."

"Allegedly 'free' money is also on the list of things he warned me about," Queen Administrator noted.

"You are impossible!"

"Hestia possesses more information than you and has already rejected that hypothesis."

It's not wrong to make Friends in the Dungeon (Danmachi / Sanctioned [Worm])

Totally Just An Ordinary Human Child

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Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

Alivaril

On a magically-deficient journey of self-discovery

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