Rapturous Rhapsody (WC/Soulsborne/Superheroes) {Completed}
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Would you take the Deal? Live your wildest fantasies at the cost of orchestrating the most significant prison break ever conceived? Spanning six worlds, millions of years, and more violence than you can shake a stick at. Everyone wants Freedom. Everyone. So... Sign here. No hard feelings. Just Company Policy. (WC/Soulsborne/Superheroes, shaken not stirred, with a twist of madness)
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Volume 1 Confinement 1
I felt an angel near today, though one I could not see
I felt an angel oh so close, sent to comfort me

******

Wakefulness did not come quickly to Robin. It was slow, rough, and entirely disorienting, like crawling through mud. That she was waking up at all was certainly a surprise. In her life, she had learned surprises were ever so rarely good. Employing one of the techniques that had saved her life on many occasions, she lay there with her eyes closed, not moving an inch. Using her Haki to ensure nobody was nearby, she reached out with her Devil Fruit powers. She instantly conjured an eye on one of the walls to get a lay of the room before dissipating it and reconjuring it in the ceiling corner. In her experience, people very rarely looked up.

Robin got a good look around where she lay with her hidden eye. The room was luxurious, probably the best in which she had ever slept, which was saying something. The bed was large, and the sheets were silken smooth. Robin only realized now that she was entirely naked under the covers, which was distressing. The rest of the room was well furnished; a few cushioned chairs sat in the corner next to a small table. A lounge sofa lay near the foot of the bed. In front of which was a thick carpet, and against the wall was a fireplace made of brick. The fire was lit but burned softly with only a few logs on the grate. Curiously, there were no ashes under the burning wood.

The flames were the only source of illumination in the room though she noted a few lamps on the bedside tables and a chandelier high up in the tall ceiling. A few windows along the wall were covered in heavy, purple drapes. The walls were covered in bookshelves with only space for the fireplace and three doors. One was a sliding door beyond which Robin imagined lay a closet. Everything was made out of dark wood, black velvet, and inlay with subtle touches of ivory.

Whoever had taken her, rescued her, was wealthy. Very wealthy. So what were their plans for her, and where were the rest of her crew? It was not paranoia if people really were out to get you.

She wasn't wearing seastone, at least for the moment, so they either remained ignorant of who she was or didn't intend her harm. For the moment.

Dissipating her eye on the ceiling, Robin slowly and carefully made her way out from under the covers. The room was warm due to the fire, so her nudity was not uncomfortable, but she would prefer to find clothes sooner than later. Keeping a wary eye on either of the doors, Robin made her way towards what she suspected to be the closet.

Sliding it open, Robin realized she was right and wrong with her guess.

To call it a closet was to call a skiff a battleship.

From hangers stretched for yards were clothes of all styles and colours, and racks of shoes and boots covered one side of the wall. Accessories such as hats, belts, and other paraphernalia filled a shelf on the side beside a massive floor-length mirror. Most disconcerting was that all of it, from the hats, boots, and garments, were in the pirate's preferred style and made out of high-quality material.

Whoever this room belonged to had gone out of their way to ensure it was to her taste.

Some frightening implications came to mind. How long had Robin been unconscious? How long must they have been following her? To remain safe, Robin dressed in clothes that were easy to move in and could function in any weather. She took a hat and sunglasses in case she needed to make a getaway.

As she was getting dressed, Robin started to hear voices from behind one of the doors. Though she could not hear their exact words through the solid wood door, the voices sounded feminine and hurried.

Proceeding slowly, Robin went to the opposite door, cracked it a bit to peek inside, and saw a luxurious bathroom. Closing the door, she made her way to the other entrance and fully opened it.

What lay beyond wasn't in the same style as the room Robin had woken up in. While the floors were still made of wood, they were of a lighter colour, the walls were covered in art rather than bookshelves, and it was lit by bulbs on the wall rather than firelight. The images on the walls depicted various things, though natural landscapes and religious figures seemed to be the most common.

Other doors dotted the walls, though all seemed to be in different styles. Some looked personalized, while others remained blank. The pirate counted three doors on each wall, including the one Robin had just stepped out of. The hall looked to only have one main exit near her own entrance, the other ending in a window overlooking a cliff and the sea. Judging by the light filtering in through it, it was early morning. She decided the windows in her room or in this hall would be a good exit in an emergency. Better than risk delving deeper into the house. With the speed of a woman on the run her entire life, Robin took it in with a quick glance.

After that quick moment, Robin turned her attention to the other hall occupants. Like the hall, she quickly categorized the women she could see, assessing them as possible threats. Of course, she didn't fail to maintain a demure smile on her face as she did so.

They were three women in the hall. Opposite her was a dark-skinned woman in an orange shirt and tight black pants. Long purple hair in a ponytail and yellow eyes. She was tiny by comparison to Robin's tall frame, easily a foot shorter. She leaned against the door opposite the pirate but judging by her tense muscles and wary eyes, she was ready to spring into action at any moment. The other two women were further down near the end and talking by the window.

The first was covered entirely in a dark cloak; her entire body was hidden and her proportions unknown. The only way Robin could even be sure the figure was the occasional fluttering pressed the cloth against some generous curves. Nonetheless, the Straw Hat remained wary since the cloaked woman was hovering in the air. While not super rare, any Devil Fruit that allowed its user to fly was dangerous. Her companion wasn't hidden in the least, however. She was only a few inches shorter than Robin, with tan skin, black hair and blue eyes. She was also wearing an armoured corset that left the top of her generous breasts exposed, greaves, wrist guards and a crown. Her impressive musculature and the weapons on her hip put her as another possible threat. Robin concluded that all three women could be dangerous in different ways.

All eyes flickered to Robin as she stepped into the hall. There was a brief pause as everyone sized each other up. The moment was broken when another one of the doorways opened up, and someone else joined the gathering group.

"What exactly is going on here?" The new arrival was an auburn-haired woman in some sort of leotard. Her eyes were deep crimson, and her long hair was covered in a bejewelled veil. Her eyes flickered over the other women in the same manner as Robin before they settled on the armoured brunette.

"That," The armoured brunette answered. "Is an excellent question. Is anyone here aware of where we might be located? Neither myself nor Raven are familiar with this building. We also do not remember arriving here." She asked, gesturing to her cloaked companion and surveying the growing group.

"If I had known, I would not have asked," The spandex woman said.

"The others might know," the cloaked woman, Raven, spoke up in a monotone voice. As her armoured companion looked at her companion in question, she continued. "There are five more women down that way." She pointed a gray-skinned finger down past Robin.

Robin subtly opened and closed hidden eyes without indicating her actions in rapid succession. She followed the path down the long hall, which opened into a grand foyer. It seemed like they were in the left corridor of a large mansion. Robin assumed they were on the second floor based on the double stairs going down and up and the great glass wall and doors below. Aside from the two sets of stairs, double doors were in the center between both halls. All this she observed and noted in a few blinks of an eye.

As Robin opened an eye in the ceiling of the opposite corridor, she observed that, like Raven said, there were five more women in this side hall. Four blondes and another cloaked figure. She couldn't distinguish too much of their profiles from her position, but they all appeared to be more than blessed in the looks department, with some of the largest busts she had ever seen. She took what information she could gleam in a moment.

Light purple cloak, pointed ears, withdrawn in the corner.

Blonde shoulder-length hair, silver corset and thigh highs.

Blonde hair in a bun, white and black blouse, small cape, whip. Talking with 'Corset Blonde.'

Blonde hair in pigtails, green shirt, massive rack. Holding her head in apparent pain.

Blonde hair in a bun with bangs, silver armour, white-furred cloak. Luminescent green eyes staring right at Robin!

Robin tensed and dismissed the eye on reflex. That woman had been sharp. Even the most proficient Haki users hadn't been able to notice her spying. She braced herself to use her Devil Fruit if the need came. Shaking her head, Robin changed her train of thought.

Of more importance was finding getting as much information as possible. The rest of the women in the hall seemed to be no more well-informed than Robin was.

That did not paint a pretty picture.

A group of beautiful women. All were displaced with no idea what was going on. Who appeared in an area that clearly belonged to wealthy individuals? This was setting off alarms in her head. The lack of a collar around their necks and the fact that they had placed no seastone on her stopped the worst of the panic. She still had options.

"I shall ask," the armoured brunette said to her companion. She made her way towards the second-floor landing and the other hall. "I am Diana of Themyscira, and this is Raven." The pair walked past Robin and her shorter opposite. The veiled woman followed the pair by a few feet. The pirate pretended to do the same but started down the stairs rather than the other corridor. She would not find answers there.

"Scathach," she heard the veiled woman say as she stepped away.

Beyond was a terrace connecting to a curving staircase leading to a big entrance like Robin had seen. Everything remained in the same style as the hall, there were no gaudy displays, and most of the wealth seemed to be implied rather than overt. That actually went a long way to soothing Robin's fears. In her experience, those with wealth and power tended to flaunt it. Those who maintained subtle expressions of power tended to be the more competent, for better or worse. They also tended to be less prone to casual cruelty.

As she descended the stairs, Robin felt a weight settle onto her shoulder. She saw a black cat staring up at her with its golden eyes from its perch.

"Hello there," it said in a deep voice. It sounded male, but judging from the fact that it came from the hallway behind her, it was probably female. Another Devil Fruit user, then. By process of elimination, she was the shorter woman in orange from the room opposite her own.

"Hello," Robin answered as she proceeded down the stairs.

"You got a name?" The cat asked.

Interesting. While Robin was in no way vain, the Straw Hat Pirates were rather well renowned, and she was one of the more infamous ones of the group. A Devil Fruit user not knowing her name suggested isolation or willful ignorance. Nonetheless, while she was undoubtedly paranoid, she was not rude.

"Sunday. And you are?" The cat snorted in amusement

"I know a fake name when I hear one, and that is as fake as they come. But I guess you can keep your secrets. Name's Yoruichi. Ya' got any idea about what's going on?"

"I am as ignorant as you on the subject," Robin shrugged. "What is the last thing you remember?" She asked, fishing for information. The way Yoruichi eyed her made her realize the cat knew what she was doing and didn't care.

"Having my heart ripped out, how about you?" The cat deadpanned.

"That lines up with my experience, yes." Yoruichi, which he squinted up at her.

"So, some sort of extra afterlife? Separate from Soul Society and Hueco Mundo?" Robin didn't know what those two places were, but the context made it easy to guess. Nevertheless, she was not one to advertise her ignorance.

"Possibly," Robin answered as she reached the foyer entrance and pushed open the large double doors. "Though I'm expecting something a little more strange."

Beyond the doors lay paradise. That was the only way to put it.

The building was set atop a small mountain that overlooked an island. A path of well-paying stones ran from the doors, about a 15-minute walk if Robin was the judge, down to a large field. On either side of the path were orchards of fruit-bearing trees. Looking to the right and left, she noticed that the orchard eventually ended, and forests covered the other parts of the island. The island was massive. She couldn't see its end, with snow-capped mountains towering in the distance blocking further viewing.

The weather was warm without being too hot. The sea sparkled blues and greens under the early morning sunrise. From what Robin could tell, the building wrapped around the hill like a crown, made of oaks and other woods. She could see large windows and terraces, giving it an open-air feel. It was on a towering cliff that faced southwards, below which lay a sandy beach. All in all, it looked like a summer island paradise if it were not for the fact that a few kilometres from shore, the sea disappeared into a yawning black void.

"Right," the cat drawled, "something strange."

The following hour was spent exploring the building where the various women found themselves. It was a somewhat sprawling mansion, with everything a group would need to survive independent of the world and then some more. There was a large training yard to the side of the building filled with a shed of weapons and armour. A greenhouse grew various plants, most of which Robin or Yoruichi could not identify. The back of the building was wrapped by a rather lovely deck which contained a hot tub and a pool that looked rather inviting. That part hung over the cliff edge, and the glass floor produced a feeling of vertigo that made Robin a bit queazy.

The inside of the building was perhaps even more luxurious, though it maintained its subtle style. The first floor was primarily rooms dedicated to utilities. The kitchen was large enough to house 10 people and the dining room thrice that amount. There was a large sitting room with a fireplace much like the one in Robins, with plush couches and various seating arrangements. Another room was a dedicated library filled with books of all sorts and languages Robin couldn't even recognize. Yoruichi practically had to drag her from the room. On the second floor were bedrooms, the double doors the pirate noticed earlier leading to an absolutely lavish master suite. The third floor was actually the roof. A bit of greenery was interspersed around various terraces seating arrangements and another pool. It all seemed designed to maximize the enjoyment of the spectacular view.

As they explored, the pair kept engaging in their little game, dare she say it, cat and mouse. They kept trying to weed out secrets from the other.

Robin learned that Yoruichi was indeed female. She enjoyed teasing others, was extremely politically savvy, had just been in a major war, and had no idea what a Devil Fruit was. What Yoruichi learned the straw hat could only guess, though there were moments where the cat looked so smug Robin could tell right away that she had discovered something. The pair had seen more of the women as they explored, but they felt no need to engage them in conversation. Everybody was exploring, some in pairs, but most by themselves. The team noticed the cloaked woman from the other hall fly off the mansion's roof and into the forest.

After an hour of exploration, they were getting a bit hungry, so the pair made their way to the fully stocked kitchen. They were not the only ones with that idea, as it seemed one of the blondes from the other hall had decided food was a good idea. It was the very busty one in green. She was still holding her head in pain while munching on some bread. In some unspoken agreement, Yoruichi jumped from Robin's shoulder onto the counter the woman sat at while Robin started gathering ingredients for their own meal.

"Morning," the cat said to the blonde. She looked up and blinked at it in surprise before the blonde gave a small groan and answered.

"Morning," She groaned.

"Rough night?" Yoruichi asked.

"Mother of all hangovers, chakra's so dry I can't even heal it." She answered.

"Been there," the cat winced in sympathy but did not comment on the word 'chakra.' "Crazy party?"

"Last I heard, you guys were lost in the Mist civil war. Have you been without a summoner this entire time?" The busty blonde warily eyed the pair.

"I think you might have us confused with someone else," Yoruichi nonchalantly replied. "I'm Yoruichi. This is Sunday. We just woke up here, like you."

"Right," the blonde muttered before taking a swig of her coffee. She placed her hand to her temple, the appendage glowing a pale green. It only lasted a few seconds, but she looked less like death warmed over. "Let's cut the bullshit. I'm in no mood to pussyfoot around. Who are you? Where are we? What happened to Madara?"

"In order; We just told you. No idea. Who? Also, can we get a name, or should I keep calling you Tits?" The cat replied glibly, which drew a smirk from the blonde.

"Tsunade," the Hokage responded. "So, what can you tell me?"

"There are ten of us. All female, all attractive. We are in an opulent mansion on a cliff on the south side of a Summer Island, a large one based on the mountains. There are animals in the woods and ocean, but no sea kings. I have not found anyone else within ten kilometres of here, though I am still exploring." Robin answered as she finished pleading the two meals.

As she did so, the pirate realized she had been on autopilot. The food looked much better than anything she had ever made before. Taking a bite, it certainly tasted better as well. While she could cook for herself, years spent on the run had taught her self-sufficiency; she was no Sanji. Whatever she had just made looked like skinny pancakes wrapped around some sort of spread filled with fruit and were utterly new to her. Something beyond the kidnapping and rescue from death was bizarre here. But if there is one thing Robin enjoyed, it was a good mystery. Filing it away for later, she passed the plate to Yoruichi, questioning whether the cat would even be able to eat the meal.

She needn't have bothered. No sooner had the food been placed did the cat jump from the counter to a stool. She was engulfed in a puff of smoke, now sat there with a fork and knife in hand was the dark-skinned, dark-haired woman. Robin barely paid it any mind. Such things were everyday occurrences on the grand line. The Hokage stared for a moment before she spoke up.

"That's an interesting technique," she said with a smile.

"Thanks," the cat-woman replied, entirely unconcerned with her nudity. "From what we can tell, apart from being attractive women, the only common factors are that everybody is strong. From what I can tell, the three of us are some of the weakest here." Tsunade eyed her in disbelief, though Robin could accept that. Power was not the be-all-end-all. "Also, out of curiosity, you didn't happen to die right before waking up here?"

"Had my neck snapped," the Hokage nodded in a blase manner. Entirely unconcerned about her 'death,' she continued. "So this the Pure Land?"

"I do not believe this to be the afterlife." Robin pipped up as she polished off her breakfast. It was really, really good. She stood and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot. "Somebody is recruiting. They save us and butter us up with a fancy mansion. Let us get situated, then make their offer. Based on what I've seen, they want us to fight for them. The training yard, the weapons, and the warehouses filled with materials do not paint a pretty picture."

"Sounds like Akatsuki," Tsunade snorted in disgust.

Robin was going to ask a few questions about what she meant when a feeling overcame her. That was the best way to describe it. It was like when you walk into a room, you forget why you came. You stand there for a moment, confused, before deciding to move on with your day. She was curious about what could cause the emotion for a brief moment before her vision swam, distorted and went black.

Her teacup fell to the ground, shattered in shards of porcelain and tea, shocking the two other women in the kitchen.

***

The dizziness faded quickly, but Robin had been on guard since her morning awakening. As soon as she could, she threw herself against the nearest wall, crossed her arms and prepared to use her devil fruit on whoever had teleported her. She wished she could say that this was the first time something like it had happened, but her life had been far too interesting for that to be the case.

Thankfully, her paranoia was not needed.

Rather than find herself surrounded by hordes of enemies prepared to take her down, Robin was almost alone in a small and cramped cell. A quick-eyed glance revealed that she wouldn't have even been able to lay down completely, the cell being too narrow. A few suspicious stains dotted the walls, most looking like dried blood. There was no furniture at all. Light streamed in from what seemed to be a hole in the brickwork of the roof, the harsh sun beating down on the only occupant of the small room.

He gaped at her in complete astonishment.

He was huddled up in the corner of the room, trying to hide in the shade cast by the few remaining bricks in the ceiling. Robin couldn't look at his complete profile with his arms wrapped around his knees. From what she could tell, he was incredibly skinny, and his skin had the consistency of leather, likely from being out in the sun. Dark-haired and with dark eyes, she estimated he would be about her height if he stood up, but Robin dismissed him as any physical threat because she could see and count his ribs. His only distinctive qualities were a trio of red tattoos that circled his heart around what seemed to be a ring of black fire.

She could tell this because he was completely naked.

More importantly, how had Robin arrived in the cell, and how would she get out?

Thankfully the hole in the roof provided the best means of escape since the cell doors would probably be made of sea stone if they meant the trap her. Peeking her head through the barred door to peer into the hall beyond, she realized it was too dark for her to see anything. Beyond a bit illuminated by the sun that streamed through the cell door, it was pitch black. She didn't see anything beyond some more broken masonry and what seemed to be other prison cells. Robin did hear some movement, though from further beyond.

She was deciding whether it would be better to create an artificial ladder to the ceiling, try and break down the door, or interrogate her fellow prisoner. The other room occupant, quiet until now and completely surprised at her arrival, broke his silence.

With laughter.

It started with a few chuckles at first. As Robin turned to him, he degenerated into hysterical, maniacal laughter. Robin kept an eye on the corridor to see if anyone was approaching to investigate the sound. Thankfully nobody was near, but she kept a wary eye on the prisoner. Who knows what he would do. She tried waiting for his mirth to die, but he laughed. On and on and on and on. After a minute, she was exasperated. After two, she was a bit crept out, and after three, Robin was getting decidedly nervous. Thankfully he never made it to four.

"Oh man," he said more to himself than to Robin. She could see tears in his eyes; though he was still smiling, Robin recognized it as the smile of the damned, those who had lost all hope. The way she used to smile. "One time! That was all it took to go hollow, one fucking time. Man, do I suck. This is just sad. I was hoping for at least a dozen, but I thought I at least had five in me."

"Excuse me," Robin interrupted the old man's ramblings politely. "You wouldn't happen to know where we are?"

"Well," he responded wryly, stretching out on the ground and giving her a view she did not need from a man his age. He seemed utterly unbothered with his nudity. "I can't confirm this. But I do believe we are in the Asylum." That seemed to send him into another fit of chuckles, though he did not last as long as before.

"Asylum? Which Asylum? Do you know which island we are on?" Her question turned his chuckles into the same maniacal after a before. As if she had just said something amusing. Not willing to waste time anymore, Robin first decided to test the doorway before she left by the roof.

She expected it to be reasonably solid, if not stuck entirely due to how the bars were bent into the doorframe. Robin was unprepared to have her hand pass through the metal as if she were one of Perona's ghosts. Her hand merely moved the metal as if nothing was there. The same happened when she pressed against the brick wall.

"Going somewhere?" The prisoner asked between his giggles.

"Yes, I am getting out of here." Robin could question the materials of her body at a later point. This inmate, whoever he was, was of no help. Better to explore on her own.

Robin stepped through the grated cell door as if it wasn't there and made her way down the hall. Robin made sure to keep her haki activated at all times to be on the safe side. It was more responsive than she was used to, another oddity of the situation. While Robin liked mysteries (to an almost unhealthy degree, Nami once commented), she liked having answers more. The last few hours have provided all too few of those.

While it did get darker further from the cell, Robin could still avoid the holes in the floor and the fungal growths on the wall. Whatever Asylum she was in, it was old if the prisoner was to be believed. Very old. Stone did not erode quickly, especially when not left to the elements. Still, Robin was seeing more than a few signs of degradation. Judging by the dust and dirt accumulation, nobody had been down this hall in at least months, if not years. That brought a few questions regarding the prisoner she had just left and how he had survived so long without food. Looking back on her short path through the hall, Robin noticed that she had not left any footprints in the dust.

She came to the end of the corridor, having passed more than a few cells that were either empty, collapsed, or wholly destroyed. She reached the only intact door she had seen so far, this one a solid metal slap rather than the cells' bars. Robin pressed her hand against it to ensure it would pass through, which it did before walking through herself.

No sooner had she arrived on the other side than she found herself yanked the back with violent force. Tumbling to the ground in a heap, Robin quickly righted herself and rose to her feet, ready to confront whatever had grabbed her.

There was nothing there.

Robin was so alone in this dark, dusty prison hall. The shuffling she had noticed earlier was more pronounced and came from beyond the metal door. The only sound apart from it was the prisoner she had left behind, who had started to hum a little song to himself.

"The sun was setting in the West,
the birds were singing on every tree.
All nature seemed inclined for rest,
but still, there was no rest for me."

Robin tuned him out as she used her Devil Fruit to open an eye on the ceiling above her head and tried to pass through the door again. Once again, a tugging sensation around her naval pulled her backwards. She was more prepared for it, she did not fall and instead only stumbled, but that didn't change the fact that there was nothing there.

Robin only stuck her head through the wall, deciding to test something else. This time she was not pulled back and could get a good look. Beyond the metal door lay what seemed to be another hall. Though this one was almost entirely without light, Robin could spot a few shadows moving in the darkness. A humanoid form seemed to pass right by, but she could make out nothing else.

Pulling her head backwards, Robin made her way back to the cell, intent on leaving through the hole in the roof.

"~The sea-bound coast, let your mountains, dark and dreary, be.
So when I am far away, on the briny ocean toss,
Will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?"

The man's haunting sea shanty ended as Robin stepped through the prison cell door. Had this been any other sort of situation, Robin would have applauded. It was an unfamiliar song, but its haunting beauty and the quality of his voice made it one she would remember.

"Sorry about that," he said to her as she reappeared. "You know how it is. I'm a regular jailbird now. And a jailbird has to sing, even if it sounds like a bunch of wet cats being thrown against the wall." Robin stifled a giggle despite herself, always appreciating a bit of dark humour.

She eyed the hole in the ceiling, about 30 feet, which was really excessive. She was about to use her powers to make a rope of arms and pull herself up when the old man's following words stopped her short.

"Conjuring you up must've put me in the mood for the sea. God, would I kill the see the ocean. If I'm gonna rot in here, I wish there would at least be by the water."

"Conjured?" Robin asked him.

"Hm?" He looked at her in confusion as he chuckled and answered. "Sorry, was that offensive? Imagined? Summoned? Willed into existence? Deluded myself into believing you are real as a last desperate gasp of my mind and soul going hollow? Which do you prefer?"

"You don't think I'm real?" Robin asked, letting the tension ease from her shoulders. And she had hoped she had finally found the lead on the strange happenings of the morning. That tension shot right back with his following words.

"Course you're not real. How else would Nico Robin of all people end up in my tiny cell in the Asylum?"

"You know who I am?" She asked tersely, hoping to finally get some concrete answers. The little back-and-forth with Yoruichi had been more confusing than illuminating. Even Tsunade, for all that she had been an open book, had brought on more questions than answers.

"Yep! You're a figment of my imagination. I must know who you are to imagine you being here."

"Not that," she snapped. "You know my name."

"Nico Robin, Devil Child, Straw Hat Pirate, the most wanted woman in the world. Intelligent, deadly, beautiful, and right now being an abysmal example of a delusion. Aren't you supposed to convince me to kill everybody or something? I'm not exactly sure how hollowing is supposed to work. All you've done so far is ask stupid questions and passed through a few walls. I'm a bit disappointed, to be honest. I was expecting you to convince me that I needed to go out on a mass murder spree, not that I could, or maybe sacrifice a chicken to our Lord Gwen or something. For shame undying curse. Taking the form of one of my favourite characters of all time and not even trying to seduce me to the dark side. Deplorable service. 2/5 stars. Would not recommend it. At least the staff was excellent."

The man's ramblings sounded more insane, but Robin at least got confirmation that he knew her. Deciding to stop him as he rambled on, she reached out to grab him. (Something about there not being any cookies.) She planned to shake sense into him, only for her arms to pass through his body like they had all other objects since her appearance in this abnormal cell.

"… Though, they would be oatmeal raisin, wouldn't they? Indeed the dark Souls of cookies. Prepare to die." He noticed her movement and gave her a warm and heartbroken smile. "Cant even seduce me? Make that one out of five stars. I'm desperate, but if I'm going to hold a delusion for warmth, I'd rather be able to touch it. While vampires can be attractive, no matter how beautiful a ghost is, you can't really do anything with it."

"Focus!" Robin said. "I am real! You know who I am. Do you know how I got here?"

"If you're so real, what's behind door number one?" He asked as he nodded his head towards the cell door.

"I don't know. I was yanked backwards as soon as I tried to pass through the door at the end of the hall."

"That is precisely what a figment of my imagination would say." He crowed triumphantly.

"I am not a figment of your imagination," Robin said, taking a deep breath. There was no point antagonizing the man. Not like she could do anything to him anyway. "The other side of the metal door was too dark to see, though I did notice some humanoid-shaped beings walking around."

"I could've told you that," he snorted in derision. "I can hear them shuffling, hollows if I'm not mistaken. Most of them would be too stupid to know how to open the door. Is there anything that you could say I wouldn't know about?"

Robin bit her lip in thought. What did he know about her? It could be from wanted posters and news or private Marine information. She had no idea what would be new information to him. Her best bet was something recent which meant she either had to talk about this morning or that. She went with the safer option.

"I woke up this morning in a mansion on an island I have never heard about. I was not the only one. There are other women there. I only got a few names, Yoruichi, Raven, Diana and Tsunade. While we were having breakfast, I suddenly appeared here. Do you have any idea what is going on?"

Robin saw the smile drop from his face for the first time since she had appeared in the cell. He looked at her, really looked at her for the first time. There was an intensity in his eyes, hope and a fire that had not been there before.

"How do you know those names?" He asked.

"I talked to them," she answered, happy to finally be getting somewhere. "As I said, we are having breakfast. That is where I met Tsunade, but Yoruichi and I had been exploring the mansion before that. You know who they are."

"Of course I know who they are!" He answered succinctly, no longer looking at her but instead staring up at the hole in the ceiling. She could almost see his mind working away. "Describe them to me, just to be sure. Was there anybody else?"

Deciding to keep the conversation going, Robin did as he asked.

She described the cat woman, Tsunade, and the other women she had seen in passing. From the armoured brunette to the cloaked women and the blondes in the other hall. She also described what she had seen of the island and mansion.

"The entire build? Then why was the island so big? I didn't have enough points." The man murmured to himself. "If so, why am I?" He trailed off before looking at her. "Never mind that. If what you said is true, I might have an idea about what is going on. That is, of course, I am not imagining this entire conversation. Delusions and hope are dangerous things. Good thing I have nothing to lose."

"Go on."

"So this will require a bit of explanation." He stood up. She had guessed right about his size as he came up a bit taller than her. He started pacing back and forth around the small space of his cell, still uncaring about his nudity. "I am guessing you don't know anything about multi-verse theory?"

"Never heard of it," she answered as she sat down in an opposite corner of the room.

"Basic idea is that anything is possible in some alternate timeline. What if you decide to go left instead of right? Ate this rather than that for breakfast? What if you were never born? What if you were born a redhead? What if you were born a guy? An infinite number of options leads to an endless number of parallel worlds. And, much like if you had enough monkeys with typewriters, you would eventually get a complete stage play, with enough parallel worlds, anything is possible. Even the travel between them. Are you following me so far?"

"Seems simple enough." She might have read a novel about something similar years ago.

"Right," he stared at her for a moment before continuing. "I forgot you had a degree in archaeology at age 8. If you want more information, you should talk to Wonder Woman or Raven." At her blank look, he explained. "The woman with the tiara and the cloaked woman, respectively. You could also ask Medea, the other one in the cloak. Either way, they have probably more first-hand experience than anyone else with something like that if you want more information. That is, if you can get back to the mansion or if they get teleported to the cell as well. But I digress."

"Basically, going by the theory that anything is possible, any story ever told actually happened, in this reality or another. Every fantasy book, every mythological tale, it's all real somewhere out there. As we talk, even you and I are being written about and read somewhere somehow. That's how I know who all of you were. You were characters in a story originating from different universes."

"So you still think I am not real?"

"Until I can prove one way or another, I must act as if you are real. Actually wrote a book on the subject, but that is neither here nor there. If you think you are real, you are. No matter what anyone else might claim. Moving on, there is something for you to test when you get back to the island. Look around for Raven. She should have pale skin, purple hair, and a red jewel on her forehead."

"You seem certain I'll be able to get back."

"If I'm right, there shouldn't be an issue. But we'll get to that. Now, as for what I think happened. A few years ago, somebody threw together a challenge in my world. The premise was that you are given a limited number of points. You used them to purchase a retinue who are assigned a value based on strength. You are to be thrown into a fictional world with your purchases, sometimes on a mission. Sometimes as a simple what-if scenario. Over the years, the original challenge has been changed, updated, and used for everything from gripping character examinations to straight-up porn, as you can imagine."

"So you're saying," Robin piped up, having never been one to care about any sort of taboo and trying to put the man on the back foot. "That you masturbated to porn of me."

"More than you could imagine," the man deadpanned at her before resuming his pacing. "Get used to it. If the multi-verse theory holds true, some fat degenerate slob is jerking off to you, me, a monkey, a trashcan, and a pile of vomit. Even all the above." She shuddered in revulsion at the image. "You see, most people try not to think too deeply about it. Anyway, we got off-topic. I'm telling you this because I think this challenge, colloquially known as the waifu catalogue or rule 34 catalogue, has something to do with our situation. First of all, I had taken up that challenge as a joke. The world I believe I am in was rated highly for danger and thus afforded me quite a few points. About two weeks ago, I wrote a short little story. It was a joke about how it would be straightforward to overpower this entire world and that it shouldn't be rated so highly. I threw it together in an afternoon to entertain myself."

"And I was one of your purchases," Robin said with distaste, not liking how it compared to slavery.

"Bitch please," he waved off her distaste. "You were my first pick. Granted, that was more for utility, espionage, and crowd control than sheer power. As I said before, you're one of my favourite characters." Robin didn't know if she was flattered by that but decided that thinking about it could wait. She waved him on. "Anyway, realistically, the group I assembled would be able to completely curb stop any challenges this world presented. The biggest problem would be getting from place to place, and even that could be solved by either Medea or Raven with some time. Once we completely obliterated our foes, we would be able to travel the multi-verse, even getting you ladies home. It would be easy, quick, and the most significant challenge would have been getting everybody on the same page. There was no romance, no porn, not even hand-holding. Truly I fail as a degenerate." The man muttered to himself.

"So what happened?" She prodded, trying to get him on track before he degenerated again.

"I have no idea," he stomped his feet and frustration. "As I said, I wrote the little story about two weeks before I showed up here and put it out of my mind. When I appeared in here," he waved to the cell walls. "I figured it had been a dimensional anomaly. In an infinite number of worlds, people are guaranteed to slip through the cracks sometimes. I just thought I just had the shitiest luck ever. That was a month ago."

"A month? How are you still alive?"

The man didn't answer, but he smiled sardonically at Robin and tapped his finger out the black mark on his chest.

"Same way I guessed where I was. But no matter what I did, how long I waited, nothing was getting me out of this damn cell. Where's Oscar when you need him. And then you showed up. You can't touch anything, right?

"Nothing so far? "She half asked, not knowing where this was going.

"What I think happened is that all the benefits, such as the mansion and the help you girls were supposed to provide, were given to the women I chose. While I got trapped here with no benefits. If I'm correct, you should all notice being much stronger than before, being able to make the most delicious food, as well as other things. That also means you will be trapped on the island, even if it is a paradise until I can get out of this Asylum and link the damn fire. If I'm lucky, that is all we need to get out of this mess."

"Assuming you are right," Robin decides to play the devil's advocate, "which we don't know you are, that helps us how? I could not travel very far, and I couldn't physically interact with anything. I won't be of much help. I still do not know why or how I was teleported here."

"That's where the testing will come in. Good old scientific method. Trial and error. If I'm right, you women won't be able to help me directly, but indirect help can be precious. There might be ways of getting around whatever restriction makes you unable to interact with the world. The first test we can do right now. Can we get you back to the mansion?"

"All right," Robin said, standing up. They had a plan. Plans were good. Plans were better than wandering around aimlessly. "What do I need to do."

"Before anything else, if I am right and you do make it back to the mansion, I need you to promise me to try and replicate whatever brought you here. Without help, there is no guarantee I will ever be able to make it out of this cell, and we will remain prisoners. Promise me." He stared into her eyes intensely as if willing her to understand the severity of the situation.

"I promise to do my best." The way he eyed her told her that he knew exactly what she was doing with the way she worded the promise, but he sighed in defeat and whispered, "That will have to do."

"Once you get back, ask Tsunade to drop her transformation. Be prepared to dodge. That should prove I know what I am talking about." She looked at him in confusion but nodded. "All right, if I'm correct, you should be able to enter the mansion from wherever and whenever you want. Stand in front of the door. Imagine you are opening an entry into the mansion. Any of the doors that you said you used this morning. As you do that, try and open the cell door."

Robin furled her brows in concentration, imagined the door in front of her was a solid oak one attached to her bedroom in the mansion and reached out. Her hand touched something, and as she pulled, space distorted in front of her till she looked at a rippling rectangle of gray.

No sooner had the odd doorway appeared than the old man rushed through her incorporeal form and tried to throw himself through the passage. He bounced violently off the metal bars that lay beyond.

"Worth a shot," he grumbled as he clutched his head pain in a ball on the floor.

Robin stepped through the passage and reappeared in the villa's kitchen, giving him one last look.

She heard her teacup crash to the ground and stood a foot behind her seat at the counter. Both Yoruichi and Tsunade jumped at the noise and her displacement, but Robin paid them no mind. She was eager to solve a few mysteries.

"I need you to drop your transformation?"

The pirate was happy her Haki had warned her enough to duck under the flying plate.

******

Welcome to Rapturous Rhapsody!

R&R for short. A story I am writing in my downtime as a way to unwind.

For those unaware, Waifu Catalogue is more common on QQ. Google it if you like, but I explained the basic premise in the chapter.

It should be obvious things are a bit different here. It's Waifu Catalogue with a twist. Hints will appear in future chapters, but an exact explanation will not come for some time. For that reason, I will not post the build as it has spoilers. I will be posting it after that will no longer be the case. I will be taking liberties with 'canon,' so it would be best to leave now if that offends you. It is only going to get worse.

What is this?:
  • A waifu catalogue story.
  • Wish fulfillment couched in a way to tell a decent story. *side-eyes Webnovel*, Unlike some others.
  • An attempt to get better at writing, to be specific at writing different characters.

What is this not?:
  • A smut story. I plan on having some smexy times in the future, which I'll be posting on QQ, but I prefer my characters to have some depth and a relationship rather than be two cardboard cuts out.
  • A collect-them-all Harem story. I'm going to struggle as is with the 10 already. More might be possible, but not too many. I want everyone to get screentime and development.
  • A jump chain or multi-world travel story. The prologue will see hints of it, but I have plans to stick to one world after this part. It will not be a 'canon' world.

This is the beginning of Part 1 of the 'Prologue.' I have it thoroughly planned out and will be adding tags as we go. Most chapters are only about half this length, about 4 thousand words. I can write one of them in a week in my spare time. I guarantee half a chapter every Monday and Friday over on QQ, so about 2000~ or so words per update. Usually, I can do that much quicker. On FF net, I will post the whole chapter a week later, so I have time to review any feedback I get.

I'm new to this site, though I spent some time on SB (I will not be posting on that one as this is very much a 'mature' story). A friend recommended I post it here on SF, so I will be doing that, at about 1 chapter every few days until caught up, then follow the FF format. If I find this story doesn't fit this site, I'll probably take it down. I am doing this to tell a good story, and I prefer people to enjoy my writing.

Feel free to point out any mistakes or ways to improve. Any feedback will go a long way to making the story better in the long run. At the end of the 'Prologue,' I will return to these early chapters to update them.
 
Confinement 2
I felt an angel's kiss, soft upon my cheek.
And oh, without a single word of caring did it speak.

*******

"He's not telling us everything," Yoruichi said as she lounged on the beach chair in the sun, nude like her companions. Whatever this subdimension thing was, it sure replicated the heat of a sunny beach rather well. Much better than anything Kisuke had ever made.

"He isn't," the blonde to her right answered. "Everybody is always hiding something. Is it going to fuck us over? That is the important part." The shinigami eyed her drinking partner lustfully. She was going to get her hands on those tits if it was the last thing she did.

"I do not think it is too important," the brunette to her left answered as she flipped a page in her book. While not as bodacious as the blonde, Yoruichi had no set preference and wouldn't mind a tussle in the sheets with her either. "As far as I'm aware, he has responded to every question we asked to the best of his abilities. I'm sure he hasn't told us everything, but neither have we. Mikael seems more desperate than traitorous. At least the first time I was summoned, it seemed so. This morning, he kept asking more questions, specifically about the time between summons on our end and any discoveries we had made about the Island."

Robin was one of those who talked to their jailer the most. While everybody got summoned, once they appeared before their 'jailor,' they could return to the Island at will. The first few times Yoruichi had been displaced, she had stuck around a while to get a feel for the old man in the cell. After a few times, however, since there was not much to do, she shared a few words with Mikael and returned. From her understanding, that was the same for most of the other women on the Island. The Witch and Robin were the exceptions.

"Not much to explain, really," Yoruichi responded. "It's an island paradise with the most advanced luxurious mansion I've ever seen. There are enough books to make any library jealous, more food than we could ever eat, and any sort of device we could ever need. Medea says there is enough magical material to build some kind of superweapon. Since, you know, magic is apparently real."

"Missing the Biju in the room, aren't you?" Her blonde companion said as she took a sip of her sake and pointed upwards. "Or, you know, the dragon in the sky?"

"Of course, how could I forget the Dragon? The one the size of a country?" Yoruichi replied sarcastically as she took a sip of her fruity alcoholic drink. One of the perks of the mansion was any sort of alcoholic drink they could ever want was available at a moment's notice.

The giant beast was rather well hidden in the light of day. The sun and the few clouds in the sky made it hard to tell, but as soon as night fell, it became apparent that this Island was not attached to any planet. Instead, it seemed to be held between the claws of an enormous white Dragon. Really, the only way they could tell it was a Dragon (since all they could see were the claws wrapped around the Island) was because of Robin. Her nifty little ability to sprout her appendages on places she could see made for great scouting. Even those with the ability to fly (Yoruichi, Diana, Raven, and even Artoria with her horse) hadn't been able to approach. An invisible bubble kept them trapped.

That hadn't stopped Robin. She had spent quite a bit of her time exploring the great beast over the last week. Thanks to her, the group of women knew about their rough situation.

According to the pirate, the Island was slightly over 240 km in diameter. It was ringed in on all sides by the ocean for about 10km. All of it was held in a massive jewelled bubble around which the Dragon had curled. Since the scale was so massive and the beast wasn't at full length, Robin hadn't been able to give an exact number on size but had estimated it to be about three times the length of the bubble. That put it at about 750 km in length.

Which was insane.

It was also floating in space, and from what Robin could tell, there had been no planet or star nearby. It had taken so long to piece this all together because Robin's separate bodies hadn't been able to survive for more than a few moments in the vacuum.

"When I described everything to Mikael, he believed that the Dragon was supposed to be the body he was supposed to transform into. Or at least one form of it." Robin answered as she turned another page in her book.

"How was that going to work?" Tsunade asked, taking another swig. Yoruichi watched intensely as a drop spilled from the jug and made its way sensually down the woman's pale breasts.

"Apparently," Robin said as she put down her book to take a sip of tea for a moment. "The form he filled out as a setup for this little adventure was based on points. He spent most of his points on purchasing us, but the rest he put into "becoming the Dragon." He explained that it was supposed to have a whole bunch of benefits. Making all of us stronger and allowing us to travel between dimensions and thus home. Obviously, things didn't turn out like he planned."

"No shit," Yoruichi said sarcastically as she flipped herself onto her front. She wasn't going to be getting a tan from this. She just liked the feel of the heat on her body. "What else did he buy with these points?"

"Mikael claimed to not remember the specifics; he insists that it was mainly a joke story he planned to write, so he didn't take careful note of the extras. It was also a while ago. Most of it was focused on purchasing things that would upgrade the Dragon or make life more bearable such as our new skill with cooking. He also claims that this Island and mansion shouldn't be this large. He did not have enough points for it. However, there is one purchase that he remembered that I believe everyone should know about, something called a Warranty Plan. He wasn't too specific on the mechanics. Essentially we would come back to life within three days if any of us were to die. So long as he is alive, that is."

"Well, shit," Tsunade replied after downing her entire bottle. "There goes my plan of drinking myself to the grave." Yoruichi chuckled to herself, and Robin cracked a smile. "If he could control that giant beast, I bet it would make any challenge a joke. Makes a Biju look tiny. But yeah, the rest should probably know about immortality. Where is everybody?"

"Princess is currently sparring with the Titty King and Scathach," Yoruichi replied as she felt for their spiritual power. She really needed a nickname for the Queen of Shadows. It wasn't fair otherwise. "Teach is in the library, and the Witch is still in her workshop. The goth is in the kitchen. And Queenie is in her room. As far as I'm aware, she has not come out of it since she got back last night."

"Do you think he used one of those command spell things on her then?" Tsunade asked as she reached for another bottle.

"Probably," Robin answered. "I think that would be the only way she would know to ask Artoria about it. Mikael still had all six when I was summoned this morning. When I asked about them, we experimented. I think they recharge since he didn't see any problem using them. Everything else lines up with what Medea explained. The more specific the order, the more powerful it is. It could be used to override normal limits and force us to do things we don't want to."

Yoruichi and Tsunade looked concerned before the blonde asked: "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Robin waved their concerns away with nonchalance. "He kept it open-ended, just ordered me to tell him a secret I didn't want him to know. I went with an easy one, so we have leeway in interpreting his orders if he decides to use the seals."

"Can he use them to summon us? Physically, I mean? The Witch said it was one of their uses." Yoruichi asked. "If we can get him out of that cell, we would probably be able to make some progress."

"Unfortunately not. Whatever is summoning us ensures that no matter what, we cannot physically interact with him or the world around him. There is some good news, however. While we were experimenting, he seemed to get an idea about how to get out of his cell."

"That's good," the tanned beauty said. "I felt bad about relaxing and enjoying the beach while he is imprisoned."

"It's not as if any of us asked for this," Tsunade commented, idly rubbing her throat. An action the former special forces commander had noticed her doing unconsciously on occasion. "While it sucks for him, none of us asked to be kidnapped to this island either."

"Still, if he is to be believed, then our best chance at freedom is for him to complete whatever sort of task he was summoned to that asylum to do. I do not believe whoever set this all up did it to leave him a cell forever." Robin pointed out.

"Speaking of which," Yoruichi piped in. "Do either of you have the time? I've been waiting for a while but haven't been summoned yet. I wanted to get out of the way before meeting with the others for a spar, but it's been hours."

"It's about three. I thought your turn was at noon?" The blonde Hokage asked as she looked over at the mocha-skinned woman.

"It's probably him trying to test a few more things," Robin explained. "We wanted to see if he could try and summon someone in a different order or at different times. More than likely, one of those two worked."

"Dammit, we had the board up and everything," Yoruichi complained. "If I'm going to be interdimensionaly kidnapped, make it consistent."

So far, the summoning had followed the same pattern. Starting at 9 AM with three-hour intervals between and ending at 9 PM. It also followed the same order. Starting with Robin, Yoruichi, Raven, Scathach, Medea, Diana, Tsunade, Artoria, Glynda, and finished with Emma. This two-day cycle had been the pattern for the last week and a half. The women on the Island had gotten used to the schedule. They had settled down and had fallen into a rough routine of keeping themselves occupied while waiting for something to change. They had already tried all their means of escape, and since they had failed, there wasn't much they could do but relax and enjoy themselves.

Most of the time, the more intellectual ones, such as Robin and Glynda, gravitated towards the library, and Medea seemed to be doing a lot in her workshop. Still, everyone else was finding themselves rather bored. They may do with sparring, exercise, getting to know each other, sometimes watching stuff on TV, playing games, and relaxing in one form or another.

Yoruichi had noticed everybody had been very tense at first. More than a little bit jumpy, but that tension disappeared over the week. It was replaced by a sense of bored ease.

"The more we know, the more options we have to get out. I just found out I am immortal. As lovely as this place is, I would rather not spend eternity trapped here." Tsunade said after finishing her second bottle and standing up from her beach chair. "I'm going for a swim."

Yoruichi admired how the sunlight reflected off of her pale skin. Her figure was voluptuous, to say the least. Out of all the women on the Island, she was probably the most busty. There was no denying that everybody on this Island was beautiful, and the cat woman would love to 'test' everyone's size to get the exact ranking. If Yoruichi had to be stuck somewhere for a while, this was certainly not the worst place nor the worst company. Who knows what could happen while they waited.

But that was for the future; now, Yoruichi was in the mood for some wet fun with the blonde. She smiled a little joke in her head before standing up and answering. "If I'm not going to be summoned, I might as well have some fun." She stretched a little after hours of inactivity, enjoying how her companion's eyes roamed her naked body before she started making her way toward the water.

"Oh, come on!" She complained. Between one step in the next, she disappeared.

******

After her teleportation, Yoruichi did not even take a moment to realize something had changed. Gone was the cramped cell and dark hall. She had appeared in some sort of grassy ruin. Judging by the statue, arches, and vaulted ceiling, it had once been a temple.

It had seen better days.

The roof was almost completely destroyed, exposing the interior to the elements. A pool of water had gathered on the floor, and plants had taken over every surface. Beyond an arched doorway, Yoruichi could see green grass, more ruined walls and a massive cliff face.

A man was sitting on the base of the stairs near the entrance, dangling his bare feet in the water. He was unfamiliar. Like someone had tied pieces of metal together in an approximation of armour, he was wearing the tattered remains of metal and leather. He was large. He would tower over the shinigami's 5ft 1' by at least a foot if he was standing. Dark hair and eyed, his face was solid but plain. Maybe low thirties? Mortal ages were always confusing. He was also staring right at her.

"If nothing else, the eye candy is nice." He said as he eyed her naked form. Emotions passed through his face quickly. She recognized lust, longing, fondness, and something else. Then, it flickered into a grimace before going completely blank. "It's good to see you again, Floof."

"Old man?" She asked. The old prisoner had been the only one to call her by that nickname. He blinked at her before a look of realization came over him.

"This is what I actually look like." Mikael waved a hand over his profile. "I was... transformed while in the cell." She expected he was hiding something, but he pushed on and waved grandly around the ruin. "Welcome to Firelink Shrine. Please leave no footprints and take no pictures. Shanking guaranteed. An existential crisis is included in your experience. Our health insurance package is extra. All suicides are to be at the cliffs, per regulations."

That was the Mikael, alright. From what Yoruichi had heard, only Robin enjoyed his dark humour.

"How'd you manage to get out?" Yoruichi asked.

"Squeezed through the bars," he shrugged the question off. "How long has it been on your end since Robin arrived?"

"Six hours, I thought I wouldn't be summoned, so I was at the beach with the girls." She stretched her body provocatively to tease him. He eyed her appreciatively but, beyond that, did not respond.

"As you can see, I enjoy a five-star resort too." He replied sarcastically.

"At least it smells better here." It was delicious. Yoruichi couldn't put the finger on the exact scent, but it reminded her of some of the better times. Of silk sheets and her Little Bee. She inhaled deeply again, lost in fond nostalgia.

"Couldn't tell ya, can't smell anything." Mikael shrugged. "Anyway, you can tell the others that the time between summonings should be six hours now. It will be a bit inconvenient, but it should lower the time you all are trapped on the Island. I'll be trying a few more tests. I can make some actual progress. Before you go exploring, can you help answer a few questions?"

"Sure," Yoruichi answered with a deep breath. She was in no rush. The following few minutes were occupied with a back and forth. Like always, the man had a million and one questions.

Could she sense him now that he was out of the cell? No.

Could she sense anyone or anything around him? No.

How far could she travel in a straight line without going through anything? 50 meters.

Did passing through matter lower the distance? Yes, irrespective of material and thickness, every time she passed through something, it reduced her total length by 10 meters.

Could she still use her powers to fly, transform, etc.? Yes.

Could the cleric in the other room, the woman in the cell, or the downtrodden man see or hear her? No. Though Yoruichi did have a few questions of her own about those people.

"Not counting that mountain, the city goes beyond my eyesight," Yoruichi reported. Mikael had asked her to go as high as possible and use her superior vision to estimate the size of the city below. This Firelink Shrine was about a fifth of the way up this massive cliff. An absolutely enormous metropolis was sprawled out at its foot, and she had spotted the hints of a wall on its peak. "Which means it is bigger than Tokyo, I think around the size of Shikoku. I can't go far enough to verify, but it is enormous."

"Shikoku's one of the islands, right? The smallest of the main four?" He asked. She nodded. "Larger than I thought, though I guess it makes sense. Gods wouldn't do anything but overcompensate."

"Why'd you do it anyway?" Yoruichi couldn't help but ask as she sat down beside him. At his questioning look, she explained. "From what Robin told me, you could have chosen any world you were familiar with, right? Why this one?"

"She did tell you it was supposed to be a joke, right?" He tried to scoot farther away from her, but she followed him. Partly for the lovely smell, somewhat to tease him. It didn't seem to work, he seemed unconcerned with her nakedness, but he did flash an annoyed look at her. She smiled smugly. He stopped trying to run. "This world was originally a video game in my world. You familiar with them?"

"I know the basics. Kisuke went on a brief kick of them for a while. Never saw the appeal."

"In the challenge I filled out, all worlds were assigned a difficulty. The higher the difficulty, the more points to spend. This world was rated at 9, the second-highest possible. It is filled with Gods, Dragons, Demons, and Magic. It is in a constant cycle of destruction and rebirth, spanning hundreds of thousands of years. We are currently at the tail end of the first cycle, one of the bleakest times on this planet. There are worlds at the same level which would be safer in many ways."

"Then why?" She asked again.

"Because of the foundation of this world, its core philosophy. Anyone can overcome anything, so long as they have the will and dedication. The strongest of Gods can be felled by the weakest of beings. Even me. I've been in three fights my entire life, got my ass kicked in every one. Imagine a world like that, but suddenly there are ten new people. Each is more potent or more versatile than the last. Some are strong enough to kill the strongest beings with barely any effort."

"So what? We come, destroy everything in our way, and go home?" She asked in disbelief.

"Pretty much. The story I wrote was about ten thousand words, most spent getting everyone on the same page. While Diana is probably the most dangerous in a one-on-one, you all were picked for various uses. Artoria could carpet bomb this entire city into rubble in an afternoon with enough magic power. Scathach made the equivalent of a rocket ship on a desert island in a week. With Medea's help, one of the greatest mages to ever live, who knows what they could accomplish. Those two are probably the most versatile.

You and Raven are great at information gathering and mobility, to say nothing of your fighting abilities. Tsunade would be around to heal anyone up. She can also destroy most buildings with a flick of her fingers. Emma would be in charge of coordination between all the disparate people. Glynda would aid by her excellent terrain control, unlocking everyone's Aura and teaching them how to use it. With her Devil Fruit and Haki, Robin would be our best scout. She is categorically the weakest of you ten, but I would still bet her against all but the best armies this world offers.

After kicking ass, I use one of the abilities of that dragon body and teleport everyone home, including myself. It would take a week, maybe a month at most. We all get Aura, some new friends, and a fantastic story. I become a dragon to travel the multiverse, perhaps visiting you every once in a while."

"Sounds like a good plan, if it worked." She couldn't help but point out. If there was anything she had learned with Kisuke, no plan was foolproof.

"If it worked," Mikael nodded to her point. "Now it seems like it is up to me to get us out of here. We are lucky. With enough willpower and time, even I can overcome this. I had been torn between this world and a cultivation world."

"A what?"

"Think of a place where everybody has the power of the Spirit King at the minimum, will genocide for the slightest perceived insult and who can measure lifetimes in billions of years." Yoruichi shuddered at the image. That sounded like hell. "Exactly. This world is no longer a game and is much larger than it was portrayed. But the fundamental mechanics of it are the same. I can get strong enough to overcome pretty much anything here."

"So long as you don't die."

"I can one hundred percent guarantee I will not die." He smirked at her as if he knew she wasn't getting a joke. "You girls can sit tight, it might take a while, but I will get out of this. Trust me, I hate this more than you." Mikael looked severe enough that Yoruichi decided to change the subject. A better one. Teasing.

"So," she leaned closer to him. Her boobs would be pressed against his arm if she could touch him. "Ten beautiful women? All from your wildest fantasies? Somebody was thinking dirty thoughts?"

"More than you can possibly imagine," he deadpanned in response.

"You definitely have a type," she raised her bust enticingly. She again saw that flash of desire on his face, but it disappeared quicker than before.

"I do," he admitted. "I do prefer women with curves, both butt and breasts. Hips and thighs as well. Height doesn't matter, but I guess I would like tall women if forced to choose. Bite-sized can be fun, though." She refused to blush as he eyed her hungrily. She knew when she was being teased in turn. "Lollies are fine, but not really my preference."

"It's no fun if you are so open." The cat woman pouted. "Berryboy was way better, all blushing and stuttering."

"I know what I like; no reason to be ashamed of it. Besides, my choices only matched my physical preferences this time because of coincidence." At her disbelieving look, he explained. "More than body type, personalities and powers were the main factors in my decision. I explained why everyone would be helpful, but the personality types were also significant. All of you are competent, mature, skilled, and willing to work with others to achieve your goals. It would take minimal convincing to get everyone to cooperate."

"So what? You love us for who we are, not our bodies?" She said it in a teasing way, clearly meant as a joke. His face contorting in rage was utterly unexpected, and she leaned away at the ferocity in his eyes.

"I do not love you! Any of you!" He snarled. "I barely know you! What I see on the screen or in a book are merely some parts of your lives and characters. That is not enough to fall in love. We've spent a few hours together, nowhere near enough."

"Woah, it was just a joke," she raised her hands placatingly. "No need to take it so seriously." Mikael took a deep breath, leaning back from looming over her.

"Sorry," he said finally. "Sore spot. One of the 'perks' of the challenge was the ability to influence the mind of your summons. It could take many forms, but they all boiled down to mind-controlling other people to love you. I hate that."

"I get ya. I couldn't stand what Aizen was doing either."

"It is not the same," he shook his head. "While I do not agree or like a lot of what Aizen did, the fundamental mechanics of his ability was only deceiving the senses. Even if what you see, hear, taste, smell, and feel are wrong, you are still you. If someone messes with your mind directly, the you from before ceases to exist in every conceivable way. Someone or something else has taken your place. Reversing it is impossible. You would just be killing the new thing to create another replacement. If somebody takes over my body and moves it like a puppet, it would be better than that kind of death."

"If you say so," Yoruichi decided to drop the topic rather than argue. He hadn't had to live with the aftermath of the betrayal, the fear of your own senses turning against you. Never trusting anything. He hadn't had to help Momo put her life back together after her world was shattered. At least that instant of rage was gone now.

"Anyway, I wrote the story as if it was really going to happen. So no mind control. Our relationships with each other would be cordial and friendly, but I couldn't see any romance blossoming."

"Why not?" She couldn't help but ask. They didn't know each other too well, but that wasn't a reason to write it off. If nothing else, now that he didn't look like dried jerky, she wouldn't mind a tussle in the sheets. Nothing so far had been too much of a turn-off for her.

"Because I'm a possessive bastard. Possessive, hypocritical, sadistic, with a hint of fair play." He answered. "Possessive; I can only dedicate myself wholly to a relationship if I know the other is. Bastard; because I won't cheat, but I will coerce and manipulate. While consent is the greatest of all fetishes, consent can be extensive."

"What do you mean?"

"You know why I like competent and mature women?" Mikael asked rhetorically, his mood changing harshly once more. He loomed over her again; the intense look in his eyes captivated her. "My ideal is a woman I can have a serious talk with, intelligent enough to provide input and ideas. Then I make them into my mewling love slave. I like breaking them. That's one of the reasons I dislike mind control. It takes out all the challenges. The thrill of the hunt. Over months and years, I seduce and twist. Little things at first, you can't live without me by the end. Take you, for example."

"Me?" Yoruichi asked in a hoarse whisper. Why was her throat so dry? The smell overcame her. It reminded her of silk, but they were ropes instead of sheets. No more did she think of the worshipful touch of her Little Bee. Now she thought of a body pressing her down in passion. His voice entranced the shinigami.

"You," he all but growled. "It would start simple. A night of passion, maybe some alcohol. You are no blushing virgin, but it would still be a night to remember. Then a second night, a third. I would never force you. You are a free cat, after all." He raised his hand to caress her cheek, but it passed through without touching. She shivered non the less. "You would come back anyway, the pleasure I could provide growing over time as I learn your every. Little. Trick." She swallowed. "Then I'd escalate. Little changes. Some spanking, maybe handcuffs. By the end, you'd be tied to my bed in nothing but a collar. You would be my little pet. My little Floof."

Mikael's honeyed whispers hung in the air before he sat back with a chuckle. "Never going to happen. In the original story, we were together for a week, nowhere enough time to break any of you."

She took the chance to dive through an open portal behind her as he chuckled at her.

Both Tsunade and Robin eyed her oddly as she shook her fist at the sky, vowing revenge. They were kind enough to not mention if they noticed her erect nipples and slick thighs.

It would only be in a few hours after she had calmed down that Yoruichi would realize he completely changed the topic to avoid providing a proper explanation. Definitely hiding something.

********

Fun fact: The story I keep referencing was a real thing. I wrote it while bored in one 10 hour stretch. The computer it was on was wrecked but I kept thinking about. Thus Rapturous Rhapsody.

A bit more exposition than I would like in this one, though I feel it is warented. As mentioned, all these choices were made specifically to curb the Soulsborne world, (though I am sure there are more optimal purchases). Without mind control I had to think in relationship dynamics, which was challenging but fun.

I am trying to show the characters learning about their situation together, while maintaining their own interests. They are all unriliable narators. Things are going to speed up a bit, more timeskips, but I still want to portray the relationship growth. So, let me know how I'm doing.
 
Confinement 3
I felt an angel's loving touch, soft upon my heart
And with that touch, I felt the pain and hurt within depart

*******

"I've never seen a Semblance quite like this." Glynda walked around the massive Gate. It looked solid, just like her regular Gate of Skye. The fortress behind it was ephemeral, clearly made out of her Aura and was unfamiliar, though. "Are you certain it is not made of magic?"

"The Gate is the same as my Noble Phantasm," Scathach replied. The runes upon the door were different. Focused more on defence than entrapment. The Celtic witch knew its use instinctively but asked for her fellow teacher's insight. She had only had Aura for less than a week, after all. She shivered. Scathach could not remember the last time she had something new to learn. "Normally, when a Heroic Spirit is summoned as a Servant, they only have access to one Noble Phantasm."

"Because of the limits of Servant containers, correct?" Glynda asked, clearly remembering Medea's impromptu lessons on the nature of Heroic Spirits, Servants, and the Grail Wars.

"There are exceptions." The lancer nodded. "If legends are intertwined, two weapons or abilities can count as one Noble Phantasm. If you need one to use the other. Artoria's horse and lance, for example. Sometimes a Phantasm might be lowered in power and count as a personal skill instead. That happens with passive abilities most of the time. This summoning has been different. We are more robust, are not dependent on mana to maintain our forms, and have access to Noble Phantasms we shouldn't have. We are also all three getting the bonus to parameters we would receive if summoned and fighting in our homeland. Our bodies are still made of spiritual particles but act as if alive in every conceivable manner."

"The other two as well?"

"Artoria still has her spear, though it is much more potent than it would be if she was summoned as a lancer. She also has her great hall, Ehangwen. Some skills from her knights count as pseudo-Noble Phantasms. Medea, I have not asked yet. I do not know if either has discovered their Semblance. I have access to all of my Phantasms, however. My Gate and Gae Bolg." The Huntress was silent for a moment. She continued to prod the Gate and the illusionary castle with her own Semblance.

"I have a few theories. Nothing is confirmed before the other two achieve their own Semblances." Scathach nodded for her to continue. "I believe it is due to the fact that you are essentially ghosts. Aura, and semblances by extension, are the manifestation of the soul. From my understanding, your Noble Phantasms are as entwined with your souls as they can be. Having a Semblance manifest in a similar form shouldn't be too surprising."

"That was my theory as well." While no magus, Scathach knew more than most about the nature of the soul. It was why she preferred to use Gae Bolg rather than the Gate. Deciding that she didn't need it anymore, the Queen of the Land of Shadows dissipated the Gate and its ghostly castle. Her Aura was only slightly lowered from the expenditure.

"Have you made any progress with Haki?" The blonde asked as the Queen stood from her seat on the ground. The pair were in a deep jungle clearing on the other side of the mountain range. The island was massive, and the pair of teachers had been exploring for the last few days. The team could carry any needed supplies using Glynda's Semblance and Scathach's runes. Not that they needed much, more than capable of hunting any wildlife for food.

"I have focused more on Armament." She summoned a Gae Bolg to her hand. After a few moments, the air around the barbed spear distorted and black spread across its red surface. She held it for a moment before letting the new power and the spear disappear. "It is not usable in combat, but I have progressed."

"Observation has been my focus," Glynda explained, waving her riding crop. A boar squealed in the distance, almost a kilometre away. It was dragged before the pair by the Huntress' telekinesis in a few seconds. A massive beast, twice the pair's size. It would not have been out of place in Scathach's age. "It extends my range considerably, though I miss the finer details."

"Impressive," Scathach did not give empty praise. She had seen hundreds of abilities in her long life, thousands of different battle styles, and tens of thousands of battles. She had trained some of the world's greatest heroes and even gotten strong enough to kill her own death when it came for her. While Glynda was nowhere near the strongest of beings she had seen, few abilities were as deceptively simple and versatile as her Semblance. Simply amplifying her range from tens of metres to kilometres was enough to multiply her threat potential exponentially.

"I cannot take all the credit," both teachers continued their quick pace northward, leaving the animal behind. There was no need to kill it; they had enough food. "These 'Talents' have made all training easier. My Aura is larger. You all are picking up its use faster than even my best students. It almost feels unfair."

"There is no such thing as unfair. The talented can die just as quickly as those without. Talent is an accelerant, an advantage one has to use and is no guarantee of victory." Setanta had been talented, but he had still died young. Scathach had outlived every one of her students, many of whom were more talented than she had been.

"I know," Glynda replied simply, looking pained. The Huntress hadn't been a teacher for as long as her, barely a decade, but Scathach was sure she had lost students. That was the peril and the burden of teaching warriors.

"Mikael needs all the help he can get."

"He does," the mention of their mutual student seemed to shake the melancholy from the air. It was best to not dwell on the past. "I can barely imagine a world he describes. One without Grimm. Even civilians need to know basic combat and evacuation techniques where I am from. Such a peaceful world seems idyllic."

"It wasn't completely peaceful," Scathach pointed out. "If it was anything like the modern society of my Human History, then there were plenty of conflicts."

"I'm sure there was, but it was a distant thing. No ever-present threat of extinction. His most significant concern before now was securing his livelihood."

"It showed," She couldn't help but say, her mouth curving slightly. "First drill I had Mikael go through, he tripped over his feet."

"I tried to have him do some basic sword swings, get an eye for his form, and he cut himself." Glynda looked equally amused, a slight smirk on her face.

"First time he held a spear, he impaled his own foot."

Out of the ten women summoned to this island, the pair felt most comfortable with each other's presence. Raven, Emma, and Medea remained private people, sticking primarily to their rooms or workshops. After only a few weeks, Robin, Yoruichi, and Tsunade were practically inseparable, doing everything together. Diana and Artoria were much the same, talking, sparing, and generally spending time together. While there were no severe conflicts among the women, and many freely interacted with each other, their little cliques had formed naturally.

Glynda and Scathach were perhaps the most similar of any women summoned. They were women of few words, teachers of heroes, highly competent in their field, and extremely beautiful like all women on the island. Glynda's 195cm height towering over Scathach's petite 162cm frame was the most significant difference. Nevertheless, if either of their students ever met the other, they would run to the hills screaming.

The pair continued to exchange stories of their student's more amusing mistakes. That transitioned to telling about their respective experiences teaching. Time passed as quickly as the distance they travelled. They made it to the island's northernmost point well before the sunset.

"Bigger than Skye, about two-thirds of Scotland, I believe," Scathach reported as Glynda made notes to their map.

"I do not know the exact size of your homeland, but Medea's little creation is calculating the area at about 60 thousand kilometres. A bit more if you consider the mountains." The witch had asked them to plant small items in the ground, looking like bones or teeth, at the extremity of the island. It was to aide in scrying, as far as Scathach could tell. Though there had been talk about setting up a bounded field, the lancer did not know how Medea would go about powering such a huge barrier.

"The wildlife is changing as well, have you noticed?"

"I have." Glynda nodded as she put away the bag holding Medea's creation. "When we left, there was the occasional boar, giant rats, and some birds and wild dogs. I suppose I should not be surprised that there are large felines either."

The creature that had tried to stalk the pair for the last few minutes was a cat in only the loosest of senses. It looked like someone had taken a house cat, given it enough steroids for an entire sports team, and then turned all its fur into deadly spikes.

It lasted less than a second against Scathach's cursed spear. Glynda was levitating it to bring it back to Medea to study.

"I did not see any markings of territory, did you?"

"I do not believe they are native to the island. I have suddenly felt animals appear in my senses since we started exploring. I initially thought it to be due to my unfamiliarity with Haki, but this creature teleported within one hundred feet of us from nowhere near. I believe they are spawning from nowhere."

"If so, they are getting more dangerous. While no threat, this cat was worse than the dogs and boars. The island could be escalating."

"I will ask Medea, Robin, and Raven. They seem to be the most knowledgeable about the island. Can I trouble you to ask Mikael upon your next summoning? I was called last night, and I would rather not wait three more days if he has the answers."

"Of course," the ruler of the land of shadows nodded amiably. She actually was hopeful more dangerous creatures would appear. It would make life on the island more enjoyable. "On the subject of our summoner, I have intended to ask; would you like to go first or second?"

"Hm? First or second?"

"To lay with him, of course." The taller blonde, stern and composed, stumbled on her heeled boot. The levitating bag and body dipped, almost hitting the jungle floor. Glynda barely managed to not fall on her face. She regained her balance in a moment.

"Excuse me!?" She shouted as her face flushed red. A flock of ravens flew from the nearby trees at the loud sound.

"To lay with him." The veiled woman repeated. "I intend to do so at the earliest convenience. I have no preference for order. If you preferred to go first, I would not be opposed." The taller blonde continued to stare at her friend, red-faced and stammering.

"You-you, with him?" She stuttered.

"Of course, if you would like us both to do so simultaneously, I believe we will overwhelm him if it is the first time. Perhaps the third or fourth then." The celt persisted.

"How improper! With your own student?!" The blonde finally managed to gather her thoughts. She looked scandalized at the idea, though Scathach noticed her eyes were also a bit glassy in imagination.

"You have never laid with one of your students?" The Servant couldn't help but ask, shocked in her own way. While she hadn't slept with most of her students, not even Setanta, it was not a rare occurrence. One of them had even been the father of her daughter, not that they had ever met.

"Of course not!" Glynda snapped out of her thoughts, though fantasies might be a better term. "It would be a gross violation of my duty as a teacher. Entirely inappropriate."

"How odd." It must be a difference in culture. Scathach did not have the Grail to provide insight into her companion's world, so their society might have been utterly alien to her. Why had a difference only come up now, though? "I admit, I am looking forward to testing out that perk of his when we can interact physically. Sticky fingers, I believe it was called. Have you never thought about it? Even once? Yoruichi bragged considerably about what she planned to do with him. I have caught Artoria daydreaming about him more than once, though she refuses to admit it."

"It has crossed my mind," Glynda admitted hesitantly before immediately retreating. "But it would be completely inappropriate, as I said. As teachers, we have a duty to guide our students. To take advantage of our charge would be wrong."

"Why? It is not as if he is young. I believe your students, like mine, were old enough to be making a decision for themselves." Scathach was genuinely curious about this foreign concept. Was there a reason or simply propriety holding people back?

"I mean, it's just wrong." The Huntress stuttered out. "Besides, how would that even work? "

"Like any other sort of sex, I imagine." Scathact deadpanned. "I hope with more orgasms than most, I admit. Some of my students required much instruction to reach the bare minimum." As Glynda remained stonefaced, though red, the Lord of Spirits started to suspect a different issue was the problem. "You have laid with a man before, right?"

The silence was her answer.

The Servant let out a tinkling laugh. "Apologies, I mean not to mock you. Where I come from, you would have suitors knocking down the walls of your hall for your hand."

"It isn't as if I had much choice," Glynda grumbled as she walked away. Scathact matched her pace, still chuckling. "I was the only one keeping Beacon together, leaving little time for romance. And the man I was fond of turned out to be a monster in the end."

"We will have to fix that then." The Queen of the Land of Shadows stopped laughing, deciding to bring the subject to a brighter topic. "Before Mikael drops you off at home. I will be with you the entire way, much like I was for my daughter's first time."

"Can we please drop the subject?" The blonde sighed in resignation.

"Very well," she complied, but not before getting one last word in. "If the perk is all it is hyped up to be, I fear we will ruin you for anyone in your homeworld."

"You still intend to ask to travel with Mikael?" Glynda asked, desperate to end the teasing.

"I do."

"He has made no secret that he intends to bring us home and leave us there. How do you intend to convince him to take you with him?"

"I call it the 'Friendship of Thighs." She tried to stop the words from forming. She really did. But Glynda had given her the perfect opening. The stink-eye she received was worth it. "I suspect that it will not take too much convincing. He has kept cards close to his chest, but I suspect he is a bit of a pushover when it comes to us. He regrets dragging us into this mess, even if it wasn't by his design."

"I am not certain about that," Glynda shook her head. "While he has engaged us with good faith, Mikeal has repeatedly expressed he intends to leave us all behind. Not just to me but to all the other women as well. He is never rude or cruel about it, but any guilt he feels for us is tempered by his own situation. Something has set him against our further presence in his life."

"Emma knows what that reason is." Scathach declared with certainty. "She discovered it, and he silenced her with a Comand Seal. Despite enjoying the luxury the mansion has to offer more than any of the others, she is the most desperate to be free of it and our summoner."

"Raven might know as well," Glynda agreed. "She always returns from their conversations introspective. I overheard her talking with Diana about her empathetic abilities. She claimed that Mikael was no threat to us. She seemed absolutely certain of this fact."

"Good, convincing him will be easier than expected." Scathach was not going to accept any other outcome. She would not allow herself to be returned to the Land of Shadows. Either Mikael would take her with him, or he would kill her.

There was no third option.

*****

"Gah!" Mikael cried, whip-like vines slashing at his hand. He did not drop his halberd and managed to swing it at his foe. It passed through his opponent quickly, and the enchanted blade tip ignited the foliage as it severed the top of the monster from its bottom. One down, six more to go. Two of which remained hidden in the brush.

Scathach watched it all with an appraising eye. Her pupil had improved tremendously since she first met him as a decrepit old man in a cell.

She watched him take another blow, a whip to the back.

Of course, he still had a long way to go. He needed to get better at handling multiple opponents. His armour protected him from the worst of the plant monsters but slowed him down considerably. The celt understood that not everyone liked to go to battle naked, but shields and armour were only valuable so long as they did not engender passivity.

One of the creatures, whose legs had been severed and charred, crawled close enough to entangle his ankles. She didn't alert him, though. It was up to the living to chart their own course. Her nails dug into her palm. She felt her gut clench in fear as he stumbled to the ground. Immaterial as she was, she wouldn't be able to save him.

He saved himself with a blast of fire from his palm, taking out the group of tree-like beings. As he stumbled to his feet, she saw a line of blood flow from an open wound on his face, an attack that hadn't been protected by his helmet. She almost felt bad for telling him to battle the group without recourse to his magecraft.

Almost.

"You failed," Scathach told him as she wandered over. She had remained as distant as possible during the fight to not distract him. He was breathing heavily as he wiped the blood from his face. She noted with pride that he was not collapsing in exhaustion, instead taking the time to stab his weapon into his foes to verify their deaths.

"Sorry, instinct." He explained. The dark forest did not provide much illumination, but she noted his armour was stained with rust, blood, and sap. His halberd was still charred black but bore no other stain.

"Your pyromancy is potent. The purpose of the exercise was to familiarize yourself with your weapon further. Your insistence on this particular blade will do more harm than good if you cannot leverage it properly."

"After everything I went through to get this thing, I will learn to use it. It's the only weapon I've found that does not require regular maintenance. I will not have access to Andre all the time."

"It is powerful," Scathach agreed. She also agreed with his reasons as proper weapon care supplies were rare in this ruined world. "But a powerful weapon can be a greater foe than any beast if it teaches the wrong lessons."

"I know." Finished verifying his kills, he surveyed the forest. She saw his eyes lingered on the bush creatures that remained hidden. He approached them casually, even as he continued to talk to her. "I need all the help I can get. It is entirely different from using a sword. I think I will try without the shield. It should improve my balance. I am not leaving the Garden until I can defeat Havel."

As the vine monsters jumped from the dirt in an ambush, Mikael swept the blade through them both. Flames licked them as they fell apart.

"Tell me of this foe. Why is a target of your enmity?"

"He's not, not really. Much like most things in this world, he is hollow. An undead that has lost his mind and soul to madness. When he was alive, he was a fearsome dragonslayer. A hero. His primary weapon is a club made out of a dragon's tooth. His armour was so strong they called him The Rock. I am not sure if the man in that tower is Havel himself, an imitator, or somebody who has possession of his gear. If I cannot defeat him, I stand no chance against later enemies."

"I would not have you die because you challenged a legend too soon." The Servant kept her voice stern, though fear crept up her spine. Mikael was not allowed to die, not when she finally had hope. "You are growing quickly, and challenges will help you progress, but all growth will end if you die." She could not remember the last time she had felt fear, but she controlled it rather than letting it control her.

"I promise I won't die." Taking a seat on a log, he smirked up at her. A joke she was unaware of in his smile. "But Havel isn't even the worst threat in these woods. The hydra will be worse."

"A hydra?" She perked up, her hands aching for a spear. She had never had the pleasure of hunting one of those beasts, though legends of them had reached even her home in Scotland.

"It doesn't have the regeneration like the one from myth, but yes. A nine-headed one is in the basin's lake. It stands between the princess trapped in crystal and me. I will need to slay it to rescue her."

"A knight in shining armour, are you?"

"No," he shook his head with a chuckle. "She will be able to teach me some beneficial spells. They will make my life much easier later."

"Then I wish you a good hunt. On the subject, do you know why animals appear on the island? When we first arrived, it was barren of life but us. Since then, we have met all sorts of beasts. Glynda will be asking Medea, but you might have an answer for us."

"Sounds like the 'Creature Feature,'" He looked at her in interest. "It was an optional pick in the catalogue. It populates the demi-plane with any creature I encounter under a certain tier. Level Six, I believe. What animals have you met?" Scathach listed all the ones she was are of, even the cat-like monstrosity she had slain not an hour ago. "I ran into those creatures not too long ago." He grimaced, rubbing his chest in phantom pain. "I did not manage to kill one, so just meeting them is enough for copies to appear on the island."

"Does this mean the Hydra will appear as well?" She tried to keep the hope from her voice. Judging from his amused glance, she failed.

"It should. If I remember correctly, it shouldn't be strong enough to count as tier 6, and anything below that and non-sapient should fall under the category of 'creature.' I've forgotten most of the finer details of the catalogue. It has been too long."

"I shall alert the others," after hunting one down for herself, of course.

"Has a drake appeared?" She shook her head in denial. "Then either I need to touch the creature, or dragons are too high tier to count. Those and the Moonlight Butterfly are the only other 'Creatures' I expect to encounter. If any of you see them, let me know. Now that I think about it, there might be some wolves too."

"Medea will be happy with fresh materials, though I worry for the mansion if we must fend off dragons." It sounded like more fun than she had in millennia.

"Sorry," he shrugged his shoulder in helplessness. "I can't avoid facing them myself. If I had known this would happen, I would have bought Creature Defence. Like everything else on the island, I hadn't been able to buy the Creature Feature, so I didn't expect it to be relevant."

"We will be able to handle it." She waved off his concerns. It was not the place for the student to worry about their teachers. There were a few minutes of companionable silence as he used a ragged cloth to wipe down his armour from the worst of its sticky remnants.

"I'm sorry." He eventually said, not looking at her.

"About?" She asked, not sure for what he was apologizing. In her experience, Mikael was an intelligent man. His mind worked fast, sometimes too fast for others to keep up with, and he would start on subjects out of nowhere with very little connecting thread.

"Summoning you." He explained.

"Do not be. You had little control of the situation and are no more responsible for this than anyone else."

"Not that." He shook his head, finally looking her in the eyes. "I am not guilty of that. It was not my choice to actually summon any of you to that island. I can only control my own actions, not the world. I am not sorry for any of the others, the situation is unfortunate, but by the end, they will have a short vacation and go home with some nifty abilities. I apologize to you because you are the only one I have wronged."

"In what manner have you wronged me?" As far as she was aware, there was no such thing.

"I would be dropping everyone off at their own home in that story. Since it was only a short piece, I hand waived many issues away. You were one of them. Everyone else has somewhere to return to or would like the benefits of immortality to achieve their goals. By choosing you, I condemned you to the worst experience possible." He looked genuinely regretful.

"You were aware of my wish?" She asked, heart clenched. "To face a foe able to slay me in battle?"

"I was. With Warranty Plan, that is no longer possible. You were eternal before. Now, you are genuinely immortal so long as I live. And as sorry as I am for you, I have no intention of dying. So I am sorry that I chose you despite knowing your wish. I am even more sorry that I am not selfless enough to free you from your eternal prison. But I am not sorry that you were summoned. I do not regret meeting any of you." Indeed, she had a most selfish pupil.

Scathach laughed.

Mikael stared.

"I accept your apology, misguided and backhanded though it is." The Servant felt she should explain. He was looking a bit hurt that she laughed at his heartfelt words. "You know my wish, but you not the reasons behind it?"

"Not exactly," he shook his head. "All my knowledge of any of you women was filtered through different media. It never painted a complete picture, only hinted at parts. I know you mainly from a game with multiple servants; you were only one of the hundreds. You had explicitly stated your wish on the Grail but not the reasons as far as I can remember. Piecing things together, I thought it was due to simply being weary of life after millennia. I guess I was wrong."

"No, you were correct. But you missed the heart with your thrust."

"Then please teach me Shishou." He finally smiled at her once more, though why he continued to call her that, she did not know.

"I was weary of life because it had left me behind. There were no foes left to face. No heroes left to train. All my pupils and my family were long dead. The Land of Shadows had retreated to Reverse Side. It needed not a guardian anymore. I waited in solitude for longer than most civilizations exist. Before I awoke on the island, I sat in my castle of Skye. I had not moved a muscle in centuries."

"So it was the solitude that was the problem?"

"It was the despair." She clarified. "Had I companions, it would have been easier, but still, my wish would be the same. I would never be summoned as a servant without the world ending because I would never die. There was nothing new in the world, no path left untread. You did not just give me new companions as immortal as myself or a new student when you summoned me. You promised me a multiverse of foes to face. Experiences I have never conceived of. You told me I would get to face a Hydra not ten minutes ago. Did you know Diana lives in a world where space travel is standard? That Yoruichi hails from a land of the dead entirely different from my own? You did not shackle me to continue living. You provided the one thing I have yearned for in my long life. Hope."

He took a moment to digest her impassioned words. She turned her eyes away from his smiling face, embarrassed by her excitement. It was unbecoming of his teacher.

"I am happy for you then. I was worried about dropping you off once we are free. Think about where you would like to go, and I will bring you with any of the others before I leave."

"No." Scathach declared with finality, looking him in the eye. "Once we are free, I will accompany you on your travels. I will experience everything personally, not be left behind like a new bride. By the end of your training, anything able to slay you will be able to do the same to me. No matter what, I will have achieved my wish."

"No," Mikael responded just as firmly, no longer smiling. "If you do not wish to be dropped off with the others, very well. I will find a world you will enjoy, but I will not have anyone of you accompany me longer than necessary."

The pair maintained a glaring contest for moments, neither willing to bend.

"We will see," the Lord of Spirits eventually said. "Till then, learn to use that Black Halberd. I would face that hydra as soon as possible. Do not keep me waiting."

Not giving him a chance to respond, she disappeared to the island's jungle, where Glynda awaited her.

Once they could interact physically, Scathach would break Mikael's hips.

********

Man the Celts were weird.

For those unaware, the reason the celts in Fate where jumpsuits is to represent nakedness. They would go into battle wearing only paint. I imagine this was due to the limited availability of metals to make armour but it also would lead to a bit of disdain for it in my mind.

After a bit of time skip, we are at Darkroot Garden.

The build is coming together. With the Black Knight Halberd, Pyromancy, some Sorceries, and Med/Heavy armour. While Mikael is not me, I do try and write him as if he were. To that end, if I were trapped in Dark Souls I would use every tool I could. I wouldn't use sorceries for combat, since they require switching between weapons but their utilities are undeniable. Pyromancies, despite being an 'Item' in DS are, lore-wise, an internal ability and thus do not need a 'Glove.'

I should have the next chapter out on Friday.
 
Confinement 4
I felt an angel's tepid tears, fall softly next to mine
And knew that as those tears did dry, a new day would be mine

*******

"To win, you must hunt five creatures," Raven said as she hung in the air in front of the competitors.

They had chosen her to be the judge for three reasons. First of all, she was impartial. While familiar with Diana before their summoning, the Cambion hadn't spent more time with the Amazon than anyone else. The second reason was that, with her magic, Raven could teleport wherever she needed to keep an eye on the competition.

The third reason was that they wanted to bring her out of her room and interact with the others. While she could feel and appreciate their intentions, it did not change that she still had a long way to go before making sense of all her new abilities.

"A tree lizard, a moonlight butterfly, a lightning drake, a crystal lizard, and one hydra head," Raven explained monotonously. All four competitors remained poised to launch. Yoruichi was on all fours, Diana and Scathach were ready to sprint, and Artoria had Dun Stallion poised to charge. "Arriving back first will give you two points, one less for every position after. Cutting more than one Hydra head will lose you three points per head. Flying is allowed. Fighting each other is not. Anyone caught doing so loses. If you want to fight, do it later. Keep all the bodies as intact as possible in the pouches Medea provided. No need to waste the materials."

Medea stopped disassembling the massive Hydra to watch the start of the race. If Raven was a bitter woman, she would be cursing Scathach and Mikael for starting this absurd competition. Some of the other women had been jealous of the Celt's trophy when she arrived after breakfast had finished, dragging the massive carcass behind her. When told there was another somewhere on the Island, there had almost been a fight over who would get the first crack at it.

Azarath save her from muscle heads.

It had been decided to settle it with a hunt for the hardest-to-find and challenging to hunt creatures on the Island. The winner got to fight the Hydra after it healed. Scathach was participating for the fun of it. She could feel the group's bloodlust, excitement, and enjoyment. She could also feel Medea's amusement at the entire situation.

"Ready to eat my dust, ladies?" Yoruichi taunted playfully.

"I have not lost a hunt since I was a child when Artemis blessed me," Diana replied good-naturedly. "I do not plan to start now." Scathach remained focused, not moving a muscle before the signal.

Artoria's response was to summon a lion. The creature, made from crackling yellow lightning, towered over the assembled women, almost ten feet tall. It released a roar that shook Raven's bones. Out of all the women there, the female version of King Arthur was the most competitive. The half-demon could feel her emotions, solid and implacable.

Raven hoped this didn't end badly.

"Go." She said, not counting down.

The competitors took off, Yoruichi and Diana flying towards the mountain range, home of the drakes and crystal lizards. Artoria rode Dun Stallion into the air, the lion following her as she headed towards the northeastern sector and the Hydra. Scathach disappeared into the jungle's foliage.

Raven floated down to the ground. She spread her senses wide, the mansion's shadows lengthening to wrap around her.

"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos." She chanted, four shadow ravens forming around her before disappearing into the aether. They attached themselves to the four competing women's shadows. Before appearing on the Island, one raven would have been her limit. Now she barely felt strained.

"Are you sure I cannot tempt you to spend an afternoon in my workshop?" Medea asked, even as she separated fangs from one of the Hydra's mouths. Scathach had brought the beast back four hours ago. The witch had been working non-stop to disassemble it. Even with her practiced hand, magic to aid her, and non-stop efforts, she still had three heads left. "I am sure we can learn a lot from each other."

"Thank you," Raven replied softly, most of her attention on the competitors. Diana had already slain a drake and searched for one of the elusive crystal lizards. Yoruichi had found one, pocketed it, and headed towards the peaks for a drake of her own. Scathach had discovered a nest of the tree lizards. Artoria hadn't yet reached the Hydra, it being the farthest creature. "I will decline for now."

"Are you sure?" The witch asked. "Our systems are different. We won't be able to replicate our same spells, but inspiration is more important than anything else when learning magic." Raven had learned to distrust other mages when they were too helpful. Her paranoia was offset by the emotions radiating from the older witch.

In the two months the group had been trapped, Medea had gone from the most distrustful of the group to the most content. Her physical changes were almost as drastic. She had worn a cloak like Raven when she had first arrived, her figure hunched and skulking about as she tried to remain unnoticed.

Raven hadn't seen that cloak in weeks.

Now the greek witch was always wearing pretty dresses, her hair free and flowing. When she wasn't in her workshop, she made dioramas and clothes in one of the unused rooms. She was always smiling, and (Raven would swear this was true) she had even seen the bluenette's pointed ears wiggle in joy at one point when she managed to get Artoria to wear a dress of her own.

"Why?" The question leaked out of her mouth without her intention.

"Hm?" Pausing in her actions, the older witch looked over at the goth. Even after hours of work, Medea remained as pristinely clean as this morning. She did not look like someone with her arms deep in a snake's brain. She looked like a housewife.

"Why are you so happy?" Raven decided to ask her question, ignoring her embarrassment with practiced ease. "We have been trapped for two months. Our only hope for escape is some guy we do not even know. I do not understand how you could be enjoying it so much."

"I suppose it is a bit odd from an outside perspective," She acknowledged.

"You hate Diana but like Artoria. You keep making things, even if they aren't useful. You even cook breakfast for everyone. Why?" Raven had spent the last few months trying to regain her equilibrium after expanding her abilities. Her emotions did not need to be as controlled as when she was younger, but if they grew too strong with her new powers, they could wreck cities. She had always been introverted, but it left her disconnected from her fellow women.

"I do not hate Diana. I hate the gods." At the mention of the deities, Raven felt Medea's emotions boil in rage. "Being near someone blessed by Aphrodite brings bad memories. At least she's not a blond-haired pretty boy." A wealth of dark emotions welled up. Genuine hate. Cruel malice. Blood-thirst. So strong that if Raven had been younger, they would have overwhelmed her. Now they barely made Pride twitch.

"You have not answered my question." Raven pointed out.

"I suppose I am happy because things are good." The witch looked thoughtful as if choosing her words carefully. "You remember my explanation of the Grail War? Had I won one, my wish would have been to live again without the gods able to manipulate my fate. To love who I wished, somebody who accepted me. Thanks to the defences the summoning provided, I am forever free of them. Being trapped here isn't bad either. I have enough material to work with, some I've never had the chance to use before. My craft is advancing well. I have time for my hobbies. It reminds me of my time with my aunt Circe on her Island."

The familiar name shot a feeling of fear into Raven with all its connotations. Medea must have caught something because she gave the younger woman a sympathetic look.

"Diana has explained about your world's version of my aunt. If you ever meet her, your stomach is in more danger than you are. Her kykeon is very good, but she is too fond of it. I will make some tomorrow." She looked wistful, nostalgia radiating from her. "She would hate it here. Being trapped on another island would drive her to moult."

"And Mikael?" Raven carefully took note of all the emotions Medea went through. There was joy, fondness, exasperation, interest, and most damning of all, hints of love.

That was bad.

"Our Master is a good one. I've been summoned by much worse before." Medea said diplomatically, her emotions not reflected on her smiling face.

"I know Yoruichi and Scathach are planning on sleeping with him at the first chance they get," Raven said bluntly, warning the older woman. Medea's emotions did not change.

"Is that so? Good for them." She said plainly. Raven's emotional manipulation did not work on any of the other women on the Island, so she continued the hard way. Based on Medea's legend, jealousy should be enough to keep her away from Mikael.

"Glynda is also developing a crush." Nothing. The greek kept up her work, though she nodded that she had heard. Damn, time to escalate. "Artoria is in love with him."

Medea froze, shock radiating from her.

Raven was exaggerating a bit. She had felt the beginning of love from the knight like the greek, but it wasn't to a significant extent yet. Artoria was a bit too naive to recognize that sort of emotion. Medea, though, had gone from shocked to radiating lust and hope?

"Tell me everything!" The older witch shook Raven by her cloak, almost teleporting to her side. Based on the broad smile on her face, Raven might have miscalculated. Was that drool?

The former titan was saved from having to answer by Diana's return. It had been only a few minutes since the start of the competition. The amazon skidded to a halt at the base of the hill, dirt trailing in her wake. Not even a second later, Yoruichi landed with a curse.

"So close!" The dark-skinned woman stomped her feet in frustration, though Raven could feel it was partly feined.

"Artemis' blessing is responsible for the victory," Diana tried to be humble, but her smile didn't diminish. Medea's irritation spiked at the name, but she ignored it to keep staring at Raven. She wasn't out of this yet.

"Excuse me," the Cambion said as she phased through the woman. "I have to judge the results."

"We'll talk later." The greek promised before returning to her disassembly.

Raven floated over to the arguing pair.

"Size is irrelevant," the Amazon argued. The pair had laid out their prey in the field. Diana's beasts bore apparent blade wounds. A smooth cut separated the base of the hydra neck. The shinigami's looked beaten. She had torn the Hydra's head off.

"Keep telling yourself that," Yoruichi said playfully. Her drake was a good foot longer. "I like them big myself." Diana rolled her eyes but smiled. Raven reviewed the report from her soul constructs. Neither of them had broken the rules.

"Diana wins." She reported dryly, ready to be done with this and get back to her meditation.

"Thank you, do you know where the others are?" Wonder Woman only felt slightly smug. She likely wanted to rub it into her friend's competitive face.

Raven reached out to her remaining soul constructs. Scathach had gotten sidetracked; she had found a horde of huge-eyed lizards. They spewed a black fog that turned the surrounding forest to stone. She was finishing up now and would be returning in a few minutes.

Artoria was in the air, seconds from arriving. She, too, had been delayed by a new arrival on the Island. Though she had lost the contest, Raven could feel her happiness. Her lion companion was dragging her trophy behind.

Oh. Oh, dear.

A shadow covered the assembled women, and they all moved out of the way as a carcass fell in front of them, kicking up dirt and shaking the ground.

"It attacked me as I flew over the mountains. Sir Yvain's lion acquitted itself most well and felled it with little difficulty. I imagine it is worth 'bonus points.'" Raven did not need to pay attention to Medea to know that she was the one squealing in delight. Whether for the enormous amount of new material or the sight of Artiora standing atop the great red body of the massive drake.

Somebody so deadly should not be able to look so adorably smug.

Really, what sort of enemies was Mikael facing.

*****

Raven handled the disorientating displacement from the summoning with practice ease. When she sensed it coming, she closed her eyes. It helped with vertigo.

When she opened them, the sight before her stole her breath.

The warm evening sun shone on the most majestic city she had ever seen. Great gothic spires and cathedrals spread out before her, built-in ways and sizes no mortals could ever create. Detailed reliefs splayed out on every single one of the massive glass windows. They depicted scenes of combat, beauty, and a host of other images. Too many to count.

Long walkways, stone bulwarks, intricate reliefs, twisting balustrades.

Raven had been lucky enough to visit Milan once and see the magnificent Il Duomo, renowned for its intricacy, detail, and beauty.

The least of the buildings surrounding her made it look like a shack.

It went on for miles, disappearing into the horizon. Clouds floated by, close enough to touch, giving the scene a heavenly air. The city below the cliff had been massive too, but it had been ramshackle. Sprung up organically over the process of the millennium. It had crowded the cliff base as if the buildings themselves were trying to climb it.

Raven could understand if this is what lay at the top.

This was an architect's dream city, made for giants and deities.

Mikael sat beside her, legs dangling from the edge of their balcony. He paid no attention to the kilometre-long drop below him, entranced by the sight. He was looking away from her, for which she was glad.

"Welcome to Anor Londo. City of Gods." He gestured grandly to the vision before him. "Most beautiful sight this world has to offer."

"It is an illusion," Raven replied in a monotone. Now that she had recovered from her shock, she could sense the magic in the air.

"The sun is," he corrected. "The city itself is real. But the sun, the symbol of the power of the chief deity, has been gone for a long time. A facade created by the last god. It is a desperate attempt to keep the masses unaware and uncaring that the world is ending and the gods have abandoned them. Makes you wonder what it would look like at its peak?"

For a moment, nostalgia and wistfulness were his most prominent emotions. Then the surging torrents returned. Raven focused, trying to maintain control. To not be drowned. Sometimes the quality of the feeling was more dangerous than the number of people feeling it.

And Mikael was Dangerous.

"We found the red drake." She said in place of anything better. She felt pride well up within him before it too was swallowed by the swells.

"The Hellkite Drake? Who killed it?" He asked, still not looking at her. He knew about her empathy, and Raven appreciated his steps to make things easier. He was still dangerous, even if he wasn't malevolent.

"Artoria." He barked out a laugh, bemusement radiating from him.

"The red dragon wouldn't stand for competitors, I see." The least damning of his two emotions grew, and Raven felt it swelling within her own breasts. She took a deep breath to stifle the smile threatening to grow on her face.

If he only felt overwhelming love for them, he wouldn't be so Dangerous. It would have been sweet, in an ironic sort of way.

As Mikael recognized the love he was feeling, it was stifled.

Then the rage came.

At once calm and cold as it was burning hot on Raven's senses. It was all she could do to stop herself from teleporting away. She still flinched, instincts warning her to flee. The Cambion did her best to ignore them.

She knew he would never hurt her, with the same certainty she knew her name. It did not matter to her senses. All she could feel was the rage, the all-consuming hatred.

She had only felt something comparable from her father.

"Sorry," Mikael said. Both the love and the rage were once more contained. Ever present, always at the edge of her senses, but distant and controlled. More than anything else, it was that control that Raven admired. She had fought for something like that for her entire life.

"It is alright." She sat beside him, deciding to enjoy the sight for its worth. "Emotions are what they are. It is what we do with them that matters."

"Still, it's not your fault. I shouldn't take it out on any of you."

"It is not yours either. None of us chose this. We are all trying to make the most of it." Her voice was monotone, but she tried to convey sympathy to him. He must have felt something as the tension eased from his body. Only slightly, though. He was never truly relaxed.

"I'm planning on showing the rest of them this sight, so I would appreciate it if you could keep it a secret."

"Sure," Raven agreed readily before pausing in indecision. Finally, she decided that he deserved to know. "They are starting to love you, you know."

"It's the lures," she could feel his grimace without seeing it. "Glynda and Scathach have taught me a lot one-on-one. Yoruichi and Artoria are more susceptible to Dragon Aura, though I do not know why it affects them. You all should be immune. Since I noticed, I've tried to tone it down, but it might be too late."

"Medea?"

"Medea is," he paused as if searching for the best words. "Complicated. I can't tell you everything; they are her secrets. I just happened to fit her 'type.' More than any of the others, she would be the one to empathize with my situation if she knew. It is one of the reasons I've kept it secret. I do not wish to encourage her."

"Flirting with others did not help," Raven couldn't help but point out.

"That was before I had any idea about what was going on. I still half thought that you all were delusions. You might be, but I must act as if you are not. Anyway, anything you could do to slow down the effects would be appreciated."

"I have tried to tell them of each other to warn them off."

"I doubt that would work," Mikael snorted. "Many come from cultures where polygamy or a form of it is normal. Some didn't even have the concept of 'cheating' so long as no children were the result. Medea, Diana, Scathach, maybe Tsunade and Yoruichi. I couldn't say for sure about Robin or Glynda. Either way, none would back down if they considered it a challenge. Their pride wouldn't let them."

"That has been my experience, yes." Raven decided to not tell him how excited Medea had become at the idea of Artoria liking him. She had immediately sealed herself in her hobby room, giggling perversely and muttering about 'costumes.' "What about Emma?"

"Emma is an exception to a lot of things."

"Is that why you used a command seal on her?" She had never gotten a proper response to that question.

"One of them. I had hoped her powers wouldn't work on any of us. Some of the defences were exactly made against people like her. I found out I was wrong. None of the defences are working. It had been too late to mitigate by that point without resorting to drastic measures. It pissed her off, but information can be more dangerous than power." He paused, thinking over his words. "This whole situation is messed up. I initially thought I got none of the benefits of the catalogue, but I was wrong about that too. None of the defences, some of the talents, and every lure are active. I've gotten a few of the dragon' 'gifts,' but not all. I hope things will be more apparent once I'm done with this world." Raven noticed he still did not tell her what he had Commanded. He also changed the topic rather quickly.

"If we're lucky, it should only be another month at most. I should be getting an item soon that will speed up my travel. I should have been almost done by now, but Manus was a dick." He grumbled something about time kidnapping under his breath that she did not catch. "Hopefully, I can get that dragon body and drop you all off as quickly as possible."

"You think they will go for that?" He couldn't see it, but her eyebrows were raised in disbelief. None of the women on the Island had struck her as the type to let their decisions be made for them.

"They will not have a choice." He said with finality. "Besides, with only a few months of meeting for a few hours every other day? They will get over it. We barely know each other." He stood, ready to set off once again. Raven tried to ignore the great sadness those last few sentences had caused them. "Can you do a few things for me, though?"

"Sure," she agreed quickly. Sitting around, waiting to be rescued, had never been her favourite pass time. Anything she could do to help would be nice.

"Can you let Medea know to have a new library prepared? I'm going to get my hands on a massive amount of books soon, and I would appreciate it if you could help her sort them. Most of them should be magical, so I think you would enjoy them." Raven grew excited at the thought, though it did not show on her face. The Island's library was massive, but it was also completely normal, not a grimoire to be found. Magical tomes would help while away the remaining time they spend trapped.

"You found a way to move items to the Island?"

"A while ago," he nodded. "You guys still can't touch anything, but I can throw things through the portal so long as they are non-living matter. Once on the other side, you can interact like usual. Anything left on this side disappears when you do, so you still can't help me. It lets me collect things for later, once I'm free."

"We still have rooms left over in the cliff. One of them should do for a magical library. It will be well defended."

"Thanks," he waved at her as he walked away, heading through an absolutely massive doorway. He knew the moment she called the portal to return to the Island despite never looking at her once since she had been summoned. That was her only explanation for why he called out right before she disappeared. "If someone new shows up on the Island, treat her well, yeah?"

Raven knew she wasn't the only one who hated when Mikael left her hanging like that.

********

I just want to remind everyone that all these characters are unreliable narrators. They are puzzling things out as they go along. Blindly groping for the truth. They will make mistakes, come to the wrong conclusions and learn the wrong lessons sometimes. Everyone has reasons for the things they do, even if those reasons are wrong.

on the discussion of mind control. As Mikael mentioned the lures, though touching on the basis of mind control, will not change the person themselves. Whereas bindings are literally fiat-based 'You love me now!' the lures are extra temptations that, with enough willpower, can be resisted. It is unlikely but possible. They are a whisper from the devil but not the devil's contract. The end might look the same but the process is what matters.

I am only half happy with this chapter. It is shorter than I wanted it to be but I felt I had to show that Mikael is trying to keep interactions to a minimum. I'll have to make it up to Raven later. Her empathic abilities, I feel, are a core to who she is as a character and how she forms her judgment on people. I try and convey how that can be both a good thing and a bad one.

As I mentioned, the characters are still learning about each other and the circumstances that surround them. I try and keep melodrama and EDGE to a minimum but it is hard to keep a happy tone while trapped in a death world.

Fun fact: I named the story Rapturous Rhapsody because a: I like alliteration and b: 'A rhapsody in music is a one-movement work that is episodic yet integrated, free-flowing in structure, featuring a range of highly contrasted moods, colour, and tonality.' That is the description in Wikipedia and it is what I am going for storytelling-wise. It also has connotations with epic poetry that will be made clear later.
 
Confinement 5
I felt an angel's silken wings enfold me with pure love
And felt a strength within me grow, a strength sent from above

*****

The first time Priscila felt the undead's arrival in the painted world, she almost wept in frustration.

Why?

Why could the outside not leave them be in peace?

Did they not understand that this was the only refuge for the discarded and abandoned?

Did they not know that the denizens were no threat and only responded to invasion?

The hybrid felt the intruder as soon as he stepped foot through the painting. Much like others of his kind, he had gorged himself on the souls of others. They permeated his flesh and spirit, blazing like a bonfire to her senses. This one was powerful. The most powerful to have ever invaded.

He was merciless and intense, slaying all who attacked him and growing stronger with every kill. He only fell a few times. The invader would be reborn, curse a bit before calming down and repeat the exact phrase to himself. "Don't you dare go hollow." He would then set off with a grim determination every time he rose, never making the same mistake twice.

The dragon girl felt a pang of sympathy for every one of her neighbours slain, though she knew they would return in a few weeks. They were hollow, so it took them longer to reform than those still blessed with wisdom. Still, they were mortal; thus, undeath's curse would not allow them to perish forever, unlike herself and her kin.

Altogether, the invader was stronger than most. Still not too different than other undead who ventured into her refuge. So long as he did not attack her and simply left, she would not be forced to fight. Priscila hated fighting.

Then she heard him sing for the first time.

Before Ariamis had completed his work, she had been hidden away in the labyrinthine halls of Anor Londo, not allowed to attend the great gatherings with others of the godly courts. Eons ago, she had heard minstrels and bards in the great theatres. Snippets of music had drifted to her ear, and she had followed them as best she could, invisible to all. She had spied on the greatest musicians the world had to offer.

They paled before this one undead.

He sang when he was alone. He sang while he fought. He sang as he arose from death.

There was no music accompaniment, no instruments baring the clashing of blades.

It was the most beautiful sound Priscila had ever heard.

He sang of love and loss. He sang of battle and blood. He sang of places she had never heard, using unfamiliar words. He sang in languages she did not know. Rarely did the undead sing the same song twice, though he did have favourites he returned to. Hundreds of songs left him. Unique beats, unknown genres.

The undead knew not of her presence.

It was just him and his music.

Over the weeks he spent exploring the painted world, Priscila followed him, invisible. It was a guilty pleasure of hers. While she hated the violent invaders, they were also the only new stimulation found in the Painted World. And he made such beautiful music.

But all good things must come to an end. The undead approached the ruined bridge that led to her home, felling the Tower Knight who defended it with ease.

He crossed the threshold fog, the barrier a manifestation of her power that kept the mindless out. She was ready.

"Who art thou? If thou hast misstepped into this world, plunge down from the plank, and hurry home. If thou desire to join our refuge, I would ask you cease your violence with mine neighbours." Please let that be true. Please let him want to stay. "If thou seekest I, thine desires shall be requited not." Some undead sought her out specifically. Whether at the urging of the other gods or on their own, the crossbreed did not know.

Priscila gripped her scythe tightly. Should he choose the path of violence, she would show no mercy. More than one undead had hollowed on the blade of her Lifehunt. Besides, the undead needed no limbs to sing so beautifully. She would take him below to her chambers. Where he would be safe. Forever.

It would be best if he stayed willingly.

The undead stared at her for a few moments, possibly in surprise. Did he not know of her, or was he deciding whether to attack? His armour was damaged from his extensive battles, though she knew he cleaned it regularly. Clad in heavy steel and tattered cloth, he would be an intimidating sight to most, though she towered over him.

He raised his weapon, and she tensed only for him to flip it and drive its blade into the stone below. He then hung his shield on the black halberd's shaft. Reaching up, he unlatched his helmet and set it onto the pommel. At some point between his last rest at a bonfire and arriving at her gate, he had used a fragment of Humanity to return the illusion of his mortal body.

Priscila knew not why nor when. She had hurried home to be in a presentable state for their meeting. She barely had time to brush her hair and tail. Her clothes were still wrinkled, for Gwyn's sake! Still, she relaxed a tad as combat did not seem imminent.

"Pardon the intrusion. I am Mikael." the undead spoke, even as he brushed snow from a step and sat down. "Your, uh, neighbours attacked first, and there are not too many friendly faces around. To have found one is a welcome change. Especially one as beautiful as you."

Priscila knew she could not flush. Her skin remained the pale white of fallen snow. She still fought off the smile that threatened to grow on her face. He was flattering her. She had never been called beautiful before. It was nice.

"Prithee, tell me who thou art? Thou art foreign to this land?" She noticed he had stopped looking up at her, now staring behind her. She turned her head to look at what had caught his attention as subtly as possible.

Her tail had betrayed her.

The traitorous appendage swept back and forth in the snow, clearing an area of stone in its excitement. Clearly, the flattery was more effective than she thought. The crossbreed cleared her throat, drawing the undead's attention back to her face as she focused on keeping her tail still.

"Right, sorry about that." He bowed. Though he spoke as a lowborn, she was pleased he still maintained manners. "I come from a faraway land. Not even the gods have heard about it. Are you familiar with the problems of the outside world?"

"To a degree."

"Time and space are fracturing as the undead curse spreads." He explained. The hybrid actually knew about that. It had begun while she was young still. While she had been sequestered before the worst, the painting acted as both prison and fortress against the worst. "I appeared in the Asylum one day, cursed. Possibly due to the fractures. My companions remain safe but trapped on a faraway island. I seek to free them and learn more about the events leading to my undeath. My path has led me here."

"A noble goal." Though she approved of his motivation, it meant he would not remain here with her. "Thy quest must be harrowing. Why not rest with this one for a time? Thy companions would not begrudge you a repose."

"You've never met them." He chuckled in good humour, but that only soured her more on these distant companions. They did not treasure this Bard as he should be. Not like she would. "I came here searching for help, and then I will be on my way."

"In what manner?" She asked warily. While putting Mikael in her debt would be nice, it was unnecessary.

"As I said, I am cursed to wander while my companions are trapped. I have tested many things to discover more about the nature of the curse. One thing I have not been able to test requires the aid of a willing participant. I would like to see if I can free you from this prison with your permission."

"Free?" She asked, not comprehending his intent. Though she was put off by all his talk of tests, it reminded her too much of her father. "This one is not imprisoned. Ariamis' work is a refuge, far from strife and violence."

"I should probably explain more," Mikeal pulled out a box, one of those bottomless ones the enchanters liked to create. He rummaged around in it for a moment before removing a familiar doll. "This is what led me here."

"May I?" She asked before he continued, reaching out to the worn object. She hadn't seen it in centuries, a token of her childhood. Emotion welled up in her as the undead passed it to her, though it did not show on her face. For this alone, she would be willing to do almost anything.

"The world outside is ending." The man explained as he put away his box. "It will be reborn eventually, only to end again and again. This cycle will continue. Rise and fall. Until the flame is snuffed out completely. Gwyn has doomed the world to eternal twilight and the undead curse in his attempt to continue the age of fire. Should my test succeed, you would escape that fate."

"In what manner?" Priscila asked as she hugged the doll to her chest. The revelation about Lord Gwyn did not surprise her. Even in her short time at his court, she understood well the nature of most gods.

"You would teleport to the Island on which my companions are located. It is a paradise. Their every need is taken care of. You would be trapped with them until I can free them. It is my hope that linking the fire will do so."

"Thou would have me imprisoned?" She asked, though not harshly. "Thou seek to fell the four lords, tis no easy task."

"There would be benefits. My companions would treat you well. The Island is much nicer than this place. You would also receive various blessings. You would grow in power and control. You would be able to make the most delicious food, sing the greatest songs, and never worry about safety again." Though the crossbreed was not tempted by the power or Island, she would be lying if she said she wasn't interested in eating food again. To be able to sing as Mikael, that too would be a prize.

More than anything, the promise of companions almost had her agreeing. Ariamis' world was peaceful but oh so lonely. She had more conversations in the last few minutes than in the centuries hence. Still, from his words, Mikael was unsure of the success of this enterprise.

"I would demand a price of thee first." She said, trying to imitate the imperious tone some goddesses possessed.

"And that would be?"

"Thou must sing for me." Mikael was clearly surprised at her words, though he recovered admirably. She fought not to fidget. She had meant to ask for more information, for guarantees of conduct and safety. The words had slipped from her mouth without thought. If Priscilla could blush in shame, she would.

"Sure, though if I am to pay such a steep price, I will demand one of my one." The humour in his voice eased her worry, though his following words sent a different kind shooting through her. "Let me pet your tail. It's been too long since I've had any floof time, and I am going through withdrawals."

"Very well, though I demand a song fit for a god." She kept her scythe in hand, just in case, as she approached his seated form. Her tail betrayed her once more while she raised her robe slightly to sit appropriately. It lay in his lap without command, shaking in excitement.

"Sure," he agreed easily. His hands started to pet and stroke the sensitive skin on her tail.

Oh.

Oh, gracious, that was nice.

He knew precisely how to stroke the fur below and scratch the scales above. As Priscila melted into the ground beside him, his hands danced along its length. Then he started to sing, his voice deep and smooth.

"Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
The night is falling
You have come to journey's end
Sleep now
And dream of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across the distant shore"

A lullaby, how lovely.

It reminded the hybrid of more innocent times. When a kind voice would help ease the pain of loneliness. When the painted world was new and bright. Someone would sing to her from the outside, and they, too, had a beautiful voice.

Her new Bard was superior, and the song was better now. Fit for a goddess.

As his fingers and voice eased her more than ever, lulling her to sleep, Priscila did not feel the tiny prick of the bite.

******

Conscious returned to Priscila slowly, dredging her up from the most restful sleep of her life.

She lay on a bed of silver, silken sheets falling from her body like water as she raised herself to sit on the side of the bed. Someone had stripped her bare. She hoped it hadn't been Mikael. She would hate to reveal her disgusting form to her Bard's eyes.

Standing, the crossbreed evaluated this new prison.

It was of a size with her own room in Ariamis' Painting, though much better appointed. Strange creations were against the far wall, metal and crystal rectangles. Television and consols she somehow knew. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with innumerable thin books. Two doors lay to her left, both appropriately sized, while a smaller one was to her right. Dark drapes covered the windows beside her bed.

The first door on the left revealed a lavatory. It, too, was well-appointed. Priscila did not understand the strange shapes and symbols. She understood the large tub was to be filled with water for bathing, and the smaller ones were to be used to wash her hands. The hybrid would have to ask the staff of this residence to bring some hot water at the earliest convenience. She could not remember the last time she had a warm bath.

The second door of her size was a closet filled with clothes well-tailored to her diminutive size. She appreciated the thoughtfulness of it, well aware of how difficult it was to work with such minuscule proportions. Not knowing the temperature or environment of the area, she chose to don a robe similar to the one she wore in the painted world.

Now Priscila faced an issue.

The other door, the one likely leading to an exit, was designed for mortals. Though the crossbreed was much lesser than other deities or their retainers, she was still of sufficient power to tower over them. She supposed she would have to bear the discomfort.

Like squeezing into too-tight clothes, she shrank. It was not painful, more annoying than anything else. Grabbing her scythe from her bedside, it too shrank as a manifestation of her power, she stepped from the room.

The hall beyond was only dimly lit, moonlight filtering through the window at the end. She noticed the art, the other five hall doors, and the entrance beyond. Like when she was a child, Priscila quietly and invisibly made her way through the night. She was unwilling to risk awakening other inhabitants out of fear and politeness. She knew nothing about her Bard's companions.

The stairs beyond the hall led her to the entrance, and her wandering stopped. She passed through the glass doors without realizing it, entranced by the beauty before her. She did not notice as she returned to her regular height or the woman sitting nearby.

A full moon shone its radiance upon an island of unsurpassed beauty. With nary a cloud in the sky, Priscila had a view unlike any she had seen. The sea gleamed like millions of jewels floated on its surface, sounds of the surf crashing in the distance. Below the hill on which the mansion was perched was a field of flowers swaying in the night air. Beyond lay an orchard, fruit she had never heard of dotting the towering trees. Beyond even that was a forest. Even in the moon's light, she could see vast swaths of green that went on for kilometres. Towering peaks dotted the distance, covered in ice and snow. Over the sound of the surf, the hybrid picked up the sound of insects, birds, and animals from the forest.

The Island was more alive than anything the crossbreed had ever seen. Her Lifehunt let her sense the sheer vitality in the land and sea.

The moon, the sea, and the Island were all dwarfed by the being that held it all in its great white claws.

They wrapped around the world as if holding a precious jewel. Five curved talons on each side held it in place. Focusing beyond them as much as possible, Priscila realized they were pressing the Island against a scalled chest.

The hybrid felt herself grow warm, partly from the thick clothes she wore but primarily due to other reasons. Priscila would have to reward her Bard somehow, at the same time as expressing her displeasure. He had undersold just had excellent this prison was.

"Oh god," a voice said from beside her. "There's another one."

Turning to it, Priscila was once more struck by a vision of beauty. In her youth, the hybrid had seen Lady Gwynevere by chance. It had only been for a moment, but it had stuck with her all her life. She remembered thinking that there could be no one so beautiful. The woman before her challenged that thought.

Sitting in a luxury chair, she leaned back in leisure. Her blonde hair fell past her shoulder like a river of platinum. She wore a positively scandalous white outfit that showed off her generous curves. Her legs, thighs, midriff, and top of her bosom were exposed for all to see. One hand held a crystal glass filled with wine, and the other covered her face.

Had this woman had a soul powerful enough to sustain a larger form, there would have been tourneys in her honour.

"Nope," the woman said. She removed her hand from her face, and piercing blue eyes stared up at Priscila. "I am not dealing with this."

"Art thou Mikael's companion?" The hybrid asked, slightly intimidated by her beauty and glare.

"His prisoner, you mean?" The blonde asked rhetorically. She stood, setting aside her drink. Though she was less than half Priscila's size, she made the dragon girl feel very small with her withering stare. "We all are. That madman coned you into it, so you are one of us now. You shouldn't fall for the first pretty voice. Men will make all sorts of promises to get what they want. Mikael, especially."

"I do not understand. My Bard did not lie." He had mentioned she would be a prisoner until he could free her. It had been an attractive idea, like one of the fairy tales of her youth. Priscila felt the need to defend his honour to this stranger.

"Nope, not dealing with this." The blonde repeated, setting off into the house, gesturing for Priscila to follow. She did, shrinking again to fit through the doors. "Mikael is more dangerous than most. He did not need to lie. He made a little promise, sang a little song, and now you are attached to him for eternity. He will free us from this Island someday, sure. But we will never be free from him nor his influence."

"I do not understand." The hybrid repeated as she was led through the building and down some stairs. The halls were no longer made of wood but of well-carved stone. The occasional light source provided plenty of illumination, though she did not recognize their form.

"Of course, you don't," the blonde leading her let out a hollow laugh. It sounded a bit mad, so Priscila widened the distance between them, scythe gripped tightly. "Nobody does. I give all the warnings I can, and nobody listens. You will fit right in with these hero types. Gullible, the lot of you."

"I understand thou has grievance against Mikael," Priscila responded as they stopped before a door. DO NOT ENTER was carved along its surface. "He has done me no wrong, and I will not allow a tarnish to his name without reason."

"Of course you won't," the blonde knocked on the door. She suddenly looked tired, as if a weight had settled on her shoulders. Priscila recognized the look of loneliness, though made no effort to comfort her. Not until she apologized for insulting her Bard. "When this is over, I hope you are sane enough to see."

Any response Priscila could have said to that strange utterance was halted by the door opening. Framed by the room's light, the hybrid made out another woman of great beauty. Long purple hair fell past elfin ears, and purple eyes swept from the blonde to her. She was at least dressed appropriately, though her blue dress did not cover her ankles.

"Emma? What is going on?" The new woman asked the blonde, Emma.

"New arrival, she's your problem now." Emma stepped away towards the stair back to the surface without another word. The pair watched her leave before looking at each other.

"Apologies, I did not mean to disturb thou this late. If it is your wish, we can meet again on the morrow?" Priscila's long-disused lessons on courtesy had her perform a light curtsey, though her clothes were not the most appropriate.

"It's fine. I don't need sleep anyway. You can ignore Emma. She's just grumpy." The woman looked her up and down with interest. Priscila noticed how her eyes lingered on the scales on her face, her eyebrows, her scythe, and her tail. "I see Mikael's experiment was a success. I'm Medea. Who are you?"

"I am Priscila," she answered. She had no further title, no land to claim, and no family to call her own. She was simply Priscila, the crossbreed.

"She's the one trapped in the painting." A new voice pipped up from behind her. "She appeared a few hours ago in one of the unused bedrooms."

The new arrival faded from the shadows behind the hybrid, her voice calm and without inflection. Priscila fought not to attack with her scythe on instinct. It would not do to kill any of her Bard's companions.

"Thou know of me?"

"We knew Mikael was going to try to free someone trapped in a painting. Our last contact with him was before he entered." The cloaked woman explained monotonously.

"Raven," Medea nodded at the new arrival before stepping aside. "Why don't you both come into my workshop? We have much to learn." At any other point in her life, Priscila would have balked at the woman's voice. She sounded like Seath in his more 'curious' moods. But the hybrid barely noticed, nor did she care how her pointed ears wiggled in excitement, nor how her eyes devoured Priscila's form. Instead, the crossbreed gripped her scythe tightly, following Raven into the room as she came to a startling revelation.

Were all her Bard's 'companions' beautiful women?

********

Now for the floofy dragon herself.

Initially, I had planned for a much more aggressive confrontation, starting with a fight before Mikael showed her 'mercy' and made the offer. Then I realized a problem. Priscila is a tier six but is a full dragon hybrid which is a +2 to dragon aura. +1 for having a second element and another +1 because she heard him sing. Effectively she counted as a tier 10 for purposes of calculation and spent weeks nearby him while he worked up a sweat. This lonely, demure, dragon girl would have no reason to, nor the ability to, resist its effects.

Thus, slightly yandere Priscila.

Even Mikael did not expect this outcome. In-game, Priscila wouldn't have followed the players around. In this world, of course, she would want to know about any intruders. Since she can turn invisible, then she can follow them for a bit to determine their motives.

We also see hints of Emma and her deal. That will be elaborated on in the next few chapters, though complete answers will have to wait for a while yet.
 
Confinement 6
I felt an angel oh so close, though one I could not see
I felt an angel near today, sent to comfort me.

******

The ash was all-consuming.

It spread across the enormous cavern. Like dunes in a desert, they rose and fell like frozen waves. Even without any breeze, the little airflow swirled more ash all around. Some of it lay so heavy, and for so long, it had solidified. The lone structure in the cavern, massive and burned, towered in the distance.

Diana could see hints of the splendour of Anor Londo in its design, though it had long faded. Charred black, crumbling remains were all that was left. The ash mounds had crawled up its edge, so thick and tall that the Amazon could not tell its original size. Only a hint of warmth permeated the air, like a flickering flame trying to heat a too big room. The only illumination came from holes in the ceiling, letting the faintest radiance of the sun in.

Atop a pile of corpses, Mikael sat.

There had to be at least two dozen black knights below him, their blood pooling with the ash into a dark mud. It was a gruesome sight, with appendages separated from bodies, rent armour, and a cloying scent filling the air. He looked like an old warlord, those who carved their kingdoms and countries from the bodies of their foes. His armour bore the scars of combat, and the enchanted weapons scorch.

Had Diana been the naive girl who first left Paradise Island, she would have condemned him on this sight alone. He looked like the worst tales her family had told her about the barbarians of 'Mans World.' A fiend that needed to be stopped for justice to prevail.

After her time as Wonder Woman, the sights she had seen and the things she had been forced to do, all Diana could feel was pity. And a hint of admiration.

Pity at a man taken from his home and tossed into a cruel and dying world. A man who liked to sing and joke was forced to kill his way to freedom. Though his foes were mindless undead, which went a long way to making the image in front of her more palatable, Diana had noticed the way the journey was wearing on Mikael. He still sang and joked, but he spoke more and more about the end and freeing them. His smiles, present even when trapped in the Asylum, were rarer.

Priscila had answered a lot of questions the women had about the world. It hadn't painted a pretty picture. Diana feared knowing what Emma had seen in Mikael's mind more than ever.

"I'm thinking of calling it; Mount Mikael," he said as he stood from his perch. He wrenched his halberd from the spine of a knight, carefully making his way down the pile. "I'd plant a flag if I had one."

Despite herself, Diana felt a tug on her lips. She still did not like dark humour as a rule, but sometimes he said something absurd enough to make her laugh.

"And what, pray tell, would your flag look like," she played along. The way his drooping shoulders perked, his back straitened, and his eyes glimmered with amusement filled her with joy. She preferred the joking Mikael to the dreary figure atop a pile of corpses.

"Something appropriately majestic, none of that boring try-colour stuff," he rubbed his helmeted chin in mock contemplation. "A dragon is a must, of course."

"Of course," Diana agreed with equal mock severity. She followed him as they walked towards one of the exposed structures, sitting beside him as he dangled his feet over a long drop. He liked high places, she knew.

"It also must be white, so there must be a colour for the contrast." He continued as he brought out a cloth to clean his equipment of the gore that permeated it. Now that they were away from 'Mount Mikael,' the smell wasn't so present. Ash still filled the air, but not enough to drown out his unique scent of surf and sun. He smelled like home. "Here's what I'm thinking. White background, purple rabbit head with its mouth open and a white dragon in its jaws."

"Why purple?" The bunny made sense, but why purple?

"For the beast of Caernobog, of course!" He exclaimed, hands going to his heart like she had stabbed him.

"That rabbit was white, and I am not sure Artoria would approve."

"I'm not talking about the movie," he explained, as if to a child. "I am talking about Fou! That fuzzy little bastard is the only good thing to ever result from Merlin. Artoria would approve one hundred percent. I am planning on beastnapping it when I drop her off. Or at least getting some floof time in before I leave."

"You know she wants to go with you," her eyes softened. Over the last few months, it had been clear Mikael did not desire their company longer than necessary. More than a few of the women opposed this. Diana felt she owed it to her friend to do all in her power to aid her in her romantic endeavour.

"I know." Though the amazon could not see his face through the helmet, the way he sighed and drooped made her heart clench in sympathy. Both for him and for Artoria.

"Is it so wrong that they have come to love you?" She asked softly. "From my understanding, many are happier now than ever."

"It is not wrong," he said, sagging some more. "I'm not one of those 'boohoo, beautiful women love me, woe is me,' edge lords. In any other situation, I would be thrilled. The lures are not mind-control. I wouldn't have purchased them if I did not plan on using them in the future. All they can do, like dragon aura, is encourage romance, not create it from nothing. It is simply a more extreme version of dressing well, being friendly and attractive. You all were supposed to be immune, but they can still ignore it with enough willpower. Like you."

"Then why," Diana ignored the pit in her stomach that his last words caused. They were not appropriate.

"This is a case of 'it's not you, it's me.'" Mikeal chuckled hollowly, the sound void of his usual good humour. "For reasons I can't adequately explain, I cannot return their affection. It would be better to let them move on with their lives rather than string them along like some dumb harem protagonist. It will suck, but we will be better for it in the long run."

"Can't? Or won't?" The words came out harsher than she meant, but Diana couldn't accept his response. It would be too sad for everyone involved.

"Can't." He looked her in the eyes as if trying to make her understand. "I quite literally cannot put it into words. Raven knows a bit if you want to ask."

"And Emma?"

"Emma is," he struggled to find the words. "She read my mind too deeply at the wrong time. It's no secret I had to use a command seal for both our sakes."

"What did you order her to do?"

"It was a while ago, but I believe my exact words were; 'Never delve deeply into my mind.' 'Never tell anyone what you find there.' and one more order. I used all six of my seals to make sure they stuck." He looked so sad as if remembering his actions were physically painful. "I'm not proud of it. I initially purchased the seals because they were cheap and extremely useful. I was half surprised it worked since I cannot interact with you all."

"She's been telling everyone that you've been delaying things. Putting off facing this 'Gwyn.'"

"She's not wrong, technically," he explained. "If I just focused on getting here, I could have arrived at the kiln a week or two ago."

"Then why didn't you?" She knew it wasn't out of malicious intent. If so, Mikael wouldn't have reached this far at all.

"A few reasons. As much as I want to be free, there are still good people in this world. I tried to help them as best as I could. I can't solve all their problems, this world is still ending, but I can make their lives a bit easier than I could when this was a game."

"Admirable," Diana wasn't flattering him. His willingness to help, and his determination to keep pressing on by himself, they were all traits that she admired. Though he claimed to be no hero, sometimes a little kindness could make all the difference. "Will they be joining us on the Island?"

"No," he shook his head emphatically. "While a few could qualify, I become responsible for anyone bound to me. I only tested it out with Priscila because I wanted to know if capturing was possible, what the effects would be, and if she could be used as a loophole. I had hoped that because she was initially part of this world, I would be able to use her as an intermediary between the Island and me."

"But she never gets summoned," Diana finished his thoughts for him. "She stays on the Island. Mostly in her room. In fact, I believe she is most taken with video games." He snorted in wry amusement at the thought. "Is that the only reason you have delayed this confrontation?"

"I am also scared," he admitted. "Scared of what comes next. I hope I just need to beat Gwyn. That it will be enough, and we can all go free. I know this world because of a game, Dark Souls. It was a trilogy. I fear beating Gwyn, the first game's final boss, will not be enough. That I will have to complete the other two to free us. I am also afraid that when I beat him, I..." He stopped suddenly. Diana listened as he poured his heart out. He usually kept his cards close to the chest. This was a rare moment of vulnerability. She wished she could comfort him, hug him. When he did not continue, she spoke.

"If that happens, none of us would blame you. A few more months on the Island wouldn't be so bad." She tried to soothe his worries. "An extended vacation. We will continue to help any way we can."

"Thanks, but it would still suck."

"Then let us take it one step at a time." She shifted tracks. "Nothing is certain until you defeat this Gwyn. Tell me about him." Mikael took a deep breath, regaining his focus.

"Gwyn is or was, I suppose, the chief deity of this world. He ruled for millennia during the Age of Fire after defeating the Stone Dragons of the previous era. It was a prosperous time as civilization flourished. He wasn't perfect, but I can tell he wasn't a complete tyrant initially. Amoral, but not malicious. But then the fire started to fade, and things deteriorated. He tried everything to preserve it. Some weren't so bad but had negative consequences, like trying to create a second flame. Others were repugnant. He sacrificed untold millions to keep it burning. Eventually, Gwyn threw himself on the pyre and committed the first true sin of this world. The natural order of this world was to transition from one age to the next. From the featureless Age of Ancients came the Age of Fire, the age of the gods. Following was to be the Age of Dark, the age of man."

"Like how Oranous and Gaia birthed the Titans who supplanted them, only to be overthrown by the Olympians and humans in turn."

"Pretty much, though Gwyn would not allow it. He bound the Dark, never to let the fire truly fade. This corrupts the world, locking it in a perpetual cycle of fire growing strong, only to wane again. Every time getting worse until time and space deteriorate and collapse. All lands will converge at the end, and the remaining survivors flee to another world."

"Defeating him will stop the deterioration?"

"Nope," he answered cheerfully, popping the 'P.' "By the time I appeared in the Asylum, it was already too late. The sin already committed. We are simply on the first cycle, Gwyn has doomed the world, and I cannot even blame him. I would have done the same." At her disbelieving look, his smile softened to a sad one. "Gwyn is not a villain, just another victim. In a way, he is even a hero. He saw his world ending, his family fracturing, his subjects being cursed. He tried everything in his power to stop it. He succeeded, preserving his age for thousands of years. His children live on, as do many of his subjects. Did he take the wrong steps? Of course. At the core of it all, I think he did the best he could."

"You make him sound admirable. You should tell us more when we are free, especially about how you defeated him. I imagine it will be a battle for the ages." Mikeal shook his head, still smiling sadly.

"That is one of the saddest parts. A tiny tragedy atop a mountain of them. The man in that Kiln is no longer the god he was. Gwyn isn't the army leader that took up arms against the Everlasting Dragons anymore. He isn't a god of sunlight and lightning. He is no longer a valiant warrior who stood tens of feet tall. Gwyn is a husk, barely larger than me. He is hollow, mindless. When he fights, it is without the skill of a veteran but the instincts of a dying animal. I expect I faced a more significant challenge facing his executioner than I will find with him."

"That just means you will emerge victorious all the easier." Diana almost patted him on the back, only stopping herself when her hand was halfway through his armour. "It sounds like mercy to slay him now."

"It will be," Mikael said as he stood. He eyed the Kiln in the distance before turning to her. "Do you mind opening the portal for me?"

"Of course," the amazon stood as well, willing the door to open. It came as quickly as ever, a shimmering rectangle of pulsing grey energy. Mikael unlatched a box tied to his belt and threw it through the portal. It disappeared with nary a ripple.

"One way or the other, I won't need it anymore on this side. Medea can sort through it. I imagine some of you girls will find my collection interesting." He explained, seeming to find his resolve. He turned, starting to make his way to the Kiln.

"We'll be waiting for you." She called after him, but he only waved.

Perhaps it was fear of Mikael dying. Maybe it was her desire to motivate him. Perhaps it was annoyance at having her words waived off. Perchance it was the image of a good man, walking in a field of ash all alone to face a god. Maybe it sprang from those emotions bubbling in her chest that she kept to herself to support her friend. Either way, something pushed her to shout her following words as she stepped through the portal back to the Island.

"Don't you dare leave us!"

Diana did not see Mikael stumble at her words. She was long gone when he turned in surprise to stare in her direction. Diana was not there to hear him whisper to himself as if a mantra to remember as he continued towards the Kiln of the First Flame.

"Don't you dare go hollow."

*******

As Diana reappeared in the mansion, she continued towards one of the sitting rooms. The villa was large enough to hold three, one large enough for the dozen women to fit in comfortably and then two smaller ones. It was to one of these latter ones that she headed. She had been summoned while grabbing some food. On the way, Wonder Woman noticed Robin and Glynda playing cards.

"Go fish," the archeologist called. A card was telekinetically carried from the mixed pile into the teacher's hand. It looked like Robin was about to win.

Nearby, already eliminated from the game, Yoruichi and Tsunade were seated on a loveseat. They each held a saucer of Sake. Judging by the flush on their faces had been drinking for a while.

Diana allowed herself to smile. The blonde Hokage reminded her of Shiera, severe but with a temper. She was a warrior who had experienced many losses, she was sure. On the other hand, Yoruichi reminded the amazon of a female, tan, Barry. Playful, flirty, but willing to get serious when it mattered.

Even if they were set free and went their own ways soon, Diana was glad to have met each of these women. They were all admirable, in one form or another. Heroes in their own right. Some quite literally.

Wonder Woman arrived at her destination, the small living room that lacked the bay's view but came with an entire home theatre system.

"How did it go?" Artoria asked as she entered. The blonde was lounging in one of the recliners, a massive tub of popcorn in her hands. The group had learned early on that any time there were snacks or food, King Arthur got her own portions. Trying to take food from her was like trying to steal gold from a dragon.

The exception being mashed potatoes. The one time Medea tried to make food from Artoria's home country.

"As good as can be expected," Diana took her own seat facing the massive television. "I do not think he will lose, but he grows ever more weary with each passing day. I hope his fears are unfounded, and it will be enough to defeat Gwyn."

"It is a shame, though," Medea spoke up. She lay sprawled out on a couch of her own. "We just started this one. I was hoping to finish before we left."

Everybody had tried various hobbies in an effort to keep occupied while on the Island. In the weeks since her arrival, Priscila had taken to playing video games, for example. Reading, training, hunting, and spending time at the beach were some of the most common. Only Glynda really watched television. She enjoyed her 'soaps.' Then, while perusing the library of shows and movies, Diana came across 'The sword in the stone.' A charming animated tale of King Arthur.

The afternoon that followed was one she remembered fondly. Artoria had been adorably bamboozled by the film, pointing out numerous inconsistencies and problems. That set a tone where Diana would try to find more renditions of her friend's misadventures, and the blonde would viciously tear them apart. Medea had joined them in this exercise at the first opportunity.

Watching the Monty Python version had been the funniest so far. Diana could not remember the last time she cried from laughter.

Their most recent discovery, a show called 'Merlin,' had Artoria chomping at the bit. Apparently, the famous wizard was quite the character in her world. While the show took a more realistic edge, for all its magic, it had been one of the most inaccurate so far. Even Diana knew that Merlin and Arthur should be of different ages.

"Indeed," Artoria responded, devouring more popcorn. "I hope we can continue into the future. I wish to see where this tiny 'Mordred' story leads. He is much different than my own traitorous son."

"Speaking of," Diana interjected politely as the next episode began. "If it is not too personal, how did that work in your world. Was Morgana a man?"

"No, she was female. A crafty witch and dangerous foe."

"Then how?" Medea asked in turn, leaving off the end of the question.

"Merlin." Artoria looked as if someone had spit in her food. She spoke the name as if a curse, as if it alone was enough to answer the question. In a way, it was. The Incubus was as infamous as he was famous.

"Well," Medea shifted topics, sensing her friend's unwillingness to elaborate. "We will have to force Mikael to let us stay. I'm sure we can come up with something." Artoria's mood improved rapidly at the idea.

The next few hours were spent happily, Diana's mind off the subject of a lone man in a dying world. As she went to bed, she resolved to ask Tsunade about Mikael when she returned from her summoning in the morning.

Only, Tsunade wasn't summoned at 9am as expected. Nobody was.

3pm as well passed without anyone disappearing, as did 9pm. By that point, everyone had noticed the discrepancy. Even Priscila, who spent most of her time in her room playing games and was never summoned, noticed the change in atmosphere.

The first day passed in confusion, but without too much worry.

The second and third days without summoning saw tensions rise.

By the fourth and fifth, many women were at wit's end. Artoria passed her days in stone-faced silence. Medea no longer cooked meals, spending all her time in her workshop, sorting through the bottomless box Mikael had provided. Yoruichi started to spar with Scathach at every waking moment, a decision the Celt agreed to. All the others maintained distance, trying to occupy themselves.

Two women were the most surprising.

Priscila remained wholly unconcerned. She still spent her days playing video games, reading books, and practicing her singing.

Emma was frantic.

She paced everywhere, muttering to herself. Her usually perfectly prepared appearance was deteriorating by the day. Bags formed under her eyes. She wore fewer designer clothes and more baggy sweats. She drank herself to sleep every night. Sometimes the mutant would walk up to another of the women and start to say something, only to cut off her words and storm away.

By the end of the sixth day, Diana had enough.

Without warning, Wonder Woman marched up to the White Queen, grabbed her arm and started pulling her towards the large sitting room.

"Call the others," she ordered.

"Huh," was the intelligent reply from the blonde. She looked a mess, but Diana would talk to her about that later. They had more important matters.

"The others," the amazon repeated. "Call them to the meeting room." From Diana's knowledge, Emma had been a very powerful psychic before her summoning. Like the rest of the women, her abilities had been enhanced by their arrival on the Island. The mutant could reach out anywhere on the Island without aid, easily able to call the other women from wherever they were.

The mutant stared at her severely before sagging and nodding her head reluctantly. While not happy, she had seen the plan in Diana's mind and was going along.

Like the rest of the building, the main living room was well appointed. It was the largest room in the house, with a crystal chandelier hanging from the wooden ceiling and artistic tapestries hanging from the wall. Unlike the other gathering rooms, this one lacked the extra features such as the television and stocked bar. It was only furnished with loveseats, chairs, recliners, side tables, and a soft burgundy rug covering most of the floor. There was enough seating for two dozen people, more if they didn't mind being intimate.

From the control panel on the wall, Diana banished half the seats to the wall. Then she gathered eleven into a circle in the center of the room. Taking a chair, the amazon made sure to keep an eye on Emma. The platinum blonde sat in a recliner beside her, surly and quiet. She must have already called the others as they trickled in. All eleven women trapped on the Island had gathered in only a few minutes.

"I thank you all for coming," the heroine began. She eyed everyone in turn, making sure she had their attention. Some looked curious, like Priscila, but most looked serious like Artoria. "We should have done this the first day, but I think it is time we pooled our resources and knowledge. We are trapped here. Mikael has been beyond our reach for almost a week. We need to do something."

"What can we do?" Yoruichi asked helplessly. The shinigami was sprawled out in an undignified heap horizontally on one of the recliners, her head and feet dangling over the edge. "I've been trying to bust the bubble around us for the last few days. Still no luck."

"I have attempted to willfully manifest a portal to Mikael with no success," Raven spoke up. She said her words monotone, but Diana was familiar enough with the cambion to sense her frustration. The former Teen Titan was also staring at Emma more intensely than usual. The blonde mutant paid her no mind, eyes closed and brow furrowed.

"I know nothing we have attempted has succeeded," Wonder Woman spoke, sensing the mood deteriorating. "This is to pool our knowledge more than anything. What do we know?"

"The dragon is still alive," Robin spoke. Though she looked calm, Diana knew she was on her sixth cup of coffee. It was still before noon. "I have been checking up on it regularly. It shows no sign of waking, no matter what I do, but it still breathes. If we accept that it is another body of Mikael's, he is still alive."

"Our Bard would not fail," Priscila chimed in. She was barely paying attention, eyes locked on a handheld gaming console. Diana felt a spike of frustration at the hybrid's nonchalance but smothered it. Arguments would get them nowhere.

"I, too, trust that Sir Mikael will succeed." Artoria agreed before continuing. "Could this simply be an intermission? It was always possible he would need to defeat three challenges instead of one. Could this be a period between?"

"It is possible," Medea hedged, looking unsure. "Mikael has told me that each game is set thousands of years apart. Time is unstable there. If so, I have no idea how long this will last."

"Why don't we cut the bullshit? Ice Queen!" Tsunade harshly interrupted. The former Hokage had remained staring at Emma the entire time. Diana, too, had kept half an on the mutant. Many times she made to speak, but no sound left her throat. "What is going on?"
 
Isolation 1
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;

********

Tsunade was tired.

Her time on the Island had been excellent. The facilities were better than any resort. The food was exquisite. The Island was picturesque. The blonde especially enjoyed the company. She had made fast friends with a few and remained on good terms with all the other women. There was something nice about not being treated as the Fifth Hokage, the greatest kunoichi to ever live. Most of the women here had kicked her ass when they spared, which spurned her onto training like never before.

It helped that the library had medical knowledge centuries ahead of her time. In the three months since she had been summoned, she had learned as much about the medicine as in her fifty years before. Another benefit was the youth.
Not Youth, that for Gai and his mini-me.

Though Tsunade's unique Henge gave her the appearance of a woman in her late twenties, she had been considerably older. Combined with the after-effects of her seal and she had felt every second of her 55 years. Now she was young again, in her prime and with more chakra than she knew what to do with.

Altogether, she felt better physically and mentally than ever before.

But she was so god damn tired.

Tired of men going off to die and leaving her behind.

Tired of feeling hope, only to have it ripped from her.

Tired of helplessness.

The Sannin liked Mikael. She really did. She didn't spend as much time with him as others, but it was always enjoyable when they did talk. He asked her about her world. About Konoha and the Land of Fire. About her history and feelings. About politics and being a med-nin. His family had been nurses, he explained.

He couldn't stand being in medicine because he did not care enough about others to want to help. Tsunade had laughed at that, responding that many joined the field for the same reason. The power over Life and death attracted many of the more sociopathic. She laughed again when he mentioned he considered it but decided not to because he couldn't be bothered to memorize all the body parts.

She asked about his world as well. What did he do for a living? What were his hobbies? What were his dreams? They weren't profound conversations, but they had been enjoyable. Tsunade did not love him, not like Artoria, Priscila, and Medea clearly did. She did not have a crush on him like Glynda or Raven. She wasn't desperate to sleep with him like Yoruichi and Scathach. (In her mind's privacy, Tsunade admitted she was interested in seeing what all the fuss 'Sticky Fingers' was about.)

More than anything, Tsunade's relationship with Mikael was best defined as companions. Like two ninjas on a long-term mission, they couldn't help but grow more fond of each other as they interacted.

That is why she wasn't surprised to be disappointed over this last week. Of course, another man in her life left her behind. It seemed like she was destined to outlive everyone she cared about.

Like Dan, Nawaki, and Sensei.

Like Jiraiya.

So she lashed out when she saw Emma withholding information. Tsunade knew she was bound by one of those Comand Seal things. But, like the seals in her world, there were ways around them if you knew what you were doing. You couldn't talk? Write down your message? Couldn't communicate? Communicate with silence. A non-answer could be just as good as a yes or no depending on the question. That Emma, supposedly a more advanced Yamanaka, was keeping secrets pissed her off.

The kunoichi needed to do something. Anything. And bad intel got people killed.

"While a bit harsher than I would put it," Glynda pipped up after Tsunade's question. "I, too, wish to know what you have kept from us, Emma."

"I'm trying!" The White Queen almost snarled in response. She made to say something else but, once more, no sound left her mouth.

"She is feeling frustration, anger, and despair," Raven mentioned calmly. The mutant looked at her in an almost comical look of betrayal. "Now she is embarrassed."

"I can still use Rule Breaker on you," Medea said. Most of the group turned to look at the witch. "My Noble Phantasm should still be effective at removing the effects of a Comand Seal. When she first asked about seals, I offered to use it. She turned me down, though she did not say why."

"And why didn't you let her use it?" Tsunade practically growled her words, angry that the solution had always been there, but the mutant refused to use it. Emma Frost stared back at the Hokage defiantly.

"Shame and fear," Raven answered for her. Again, the mutant shot the cambion a betrayed look.

"I think that is enough," Diana spoke up. "We are not here to persecute anyone. We are here to try and work together."

"I do not see what the issue is," Priscila finally chimed in after putting away her game. She looked around the room like a child seeking answers from adults. Despite being the oldest in the room, she was also the most naive and inexperienced, Tsunade reminded herself. "Our Bard will succeed. We need only wait."

"He has improved," Scathach answered the dragon girl as if giving a lecture. "But he can still lose. We are afraid he bit off more than he could chew and died to an opponent he couldn't win against."

"I still do not understand," the hybrid tilted her head in confusion. "I hath mentioned he is undead, have I not?"

"The undead can still die," Yoruichi explained. Tsunade felt a pit form in her stomach. She was starting to guess where the crossbreed's confidence came from. She prayed she was wrong. "We've all seen him kill plenty."

"Priscila," Robin asked softly. "When you say undead, you do not mean someone who has come back to life, do you? Or somebody who is neither living nor dead?"

"Both? Neither? He is undead. He is branded by the Dark Sign." The way the dragon girl tilted her head in confusion would have been cute had Tsunade not been so frustrated.

"What does that mean?" She snapped. "He can still die, can't he?"

"Of course, he can," the crossbreed replied defensively. Tsunade felt a tiny bit of hope that she had guessed wrong. But that hope was extinguished with her following words. "He died sixteen times while I followed him. But every time, he returned rather quickly."

"What?" Tsunade did not know who whispered the words as all the gathered women looked at Priscila in horror. It could have been her. Emma looked resigned. She probably knew already.

"Indeed," the hybrid continued. She looked proud, like she was reporting an achievement. "Only sixteen times. Those who came before died thrice that amount and became hollow for it well before the halfway point. Our Bard is most skilled. Though the wheel skeletons in the well are often the breaking point, with their spikes and grinding, Sir Mikael only died to them once. The rotting dragon provided more of a challenge, its miasma melting his flesh, but after only two deaths, he felled it using his pyromancy."

The dragon girl continued, bragging about how formidable 'Sir Mikael' was even as the assembled women looked worse and worse.

It was like Edo Tensei, only so much worse. Tsunade knew Mikael still felt pain.

"Stop!" Diana shouted, halting Priscila's retelling about their summoner's battle with a group of 'Phalanx Demons.' The Amazon had her eyes closed and was taking deep breaths. "Thank you, Priscila. That answered one of our questions. I have another, if you do not mind?"

"Certainly," the crossbreed looked so happy to help, Tsunade wondered if she did not notice the reactions of those in the room. Medea looked catatonic. Scathach and Raven were stonefaced and silent. Yoruichi had fallen from her chair and stared at the dragon girl from the floor. Robin looked pained, and Glynda silently wept. Artoria had summoned her spear and looked thunderous like she wanted to fight.

Stinging pain in her hand drew Tsunade's attention.

Looking down, she saw blood. Distantly she realized she must have crushed the sake jar in her hands.

"Thank you," the Amazon opened her eyes and looked at the hybrid in determination. "How long was Mikael in the Painted World of Ariamis?"

"I could not tell you the exact length, nobody slept, and there was no sun, so days did not matter. Time tended to blend together. I can only approximate that I spent more time following him than I have on this Island."

The pit fell from Tsunade's stomach. Priscila had been here for three weeks. Mikael had spent more than three weeks non-stop in the painted world. None of the women had been summoned at that time. The interval between summonings, six hours on this end, was more than a month on his end. Assuming the time between summoning was consistent, with three a day, some quick math gave Tsunade a rough number.

Twenty-two years.

Mikael had been in that world for twenty-two years. Likely more. He had been practically alone, fighting and dying to all manner of monstrosities for over two decades in a world on its last gasp.

Tsunade needed another drink.

Judging by the faces of the other women, they had come to a similar realization.

Artoria stood suddenly, her quick movement startling some of the others.

Without a word, she marched from the room, practically stomping her way out. Tsunade did not need to be a sensor to feel what came next. Her power, raging and turbulent, flowed from her as she left the building. It coalesced into a point.
Tsunade could hear the shout of anger and pain from within the building. She could see the golden light shoot towards the sky through the window. Her Noble Phantasm, unleased to its fullest extent at the sky, shook the building in its proximity.

Again and again, Artoria unleased her spear at the jewelled bubble encasing them.

Half a dozen times, she shouted to the sky, receiving no response. The assembled women did not continue without her, letting her vent. After fifteen minutes, Artoria returned. She marched in, looking no worse for wear. Her back was straight, and her eyes steady. Perhaps for the first time since they had met, Tsunade saw the most famous King in all her glory.

"Speak," the Lion King ordered the White Queen. "You knew of this." It was not a question. Emma did not respond. She continued to look resigned.

"Regret, sadness, frustration." Raven narrated, her eyes hard. For some reason, Tsunade would swear she could see a second set of eyes above her normal ones. Blazing red in intensity.

"I cannot," Emma finally responded, her voice frustrated.

"Let us take a different tactic," Diana proposed. "In my most recent summoning, Mikael told me he used all six command seals to give you three orders. 'Never delve deeply into my mind.' 'Never tell anyone what you find there.' and one more order.' Those were his exact words. You should be able to tell us what that third order was since it was not found in his mind."

The mutant looked at the Amazon and blushed. Actually blushed. Tsunade did not need to hear Raven know it was not the flush of attraction and lust.

"Extreme shame and embarrassment."

For a long moment, Emma sat there. She did not meet anyone's eyes, though they all watched her intently. Finally, she spoke, in a whispered voice, as if she was afraid of being heard.

"He used one seal on each of those orders. The other was a single command, reinforced four times." The other women of the group leaned forward to hear her words as she paused. "He ordered: 'Regain your sanity.'"

"Excuse me?" Glynda asked, wiping the tracks of tears from her face. She looked determined and resolute. "What does that mean? Why would you lose your sanity?" Emma remained silent.

"Going forward, I will assume any time you do not answer will be because you can not," Diana spoke. "The fact that you did not answer means you lost your sanity from something in his mind. I was made to understand you are an accomplished psychic?"

"In my world, I can count on one hand the number of beings who could rival me and have fingers left over." The White Queen took evident pride in her abilities, which furthered the question.

"You saw something in his mind that drove you to madness?" Scathach asked. The silence was her reply.

"You have worked with the insane before, correct?" Glynda felt the need to clarify.

"I have. The exact nature of 'madness' varies. It could simply be sociopathy, psychopathy, dissociative personalities, or schizophrenia. The common understanding of the mind is woefully pathetic, which causes most to label any sort of odd behaviour as 'madness.' I have worked with many cases and only very rarely have I seen insanity in its literal definition." Tsunade realized once more that Emma, for all her faults, was an intelligent woman who had been a teacher. She knew her subject well.

"The wording of the order is suspicious." Medea did not look like the happy housewife she had been these last few months. She looked like the witch who had been first summoned, her eye set in a severe contemplation. "'Never delve deeply.' This implies you can still read his mind, but the issue is deeper, more fundamental. It cannot be natural to his homeworld. That world lacked magic or any power that should be able to influence you."

"Another side effect of the 'Catalogue?'" Artoria asked the mutant. Silence.

"One of the defences, perhaps?" Glynda proposed.

"None of the defences are active," Emma explained. "The talents and lures are."

"Then it has to be the dragon aspect." Artoria deduced. Silence. "Very well, what do we know about the dragon options in the catalogue?"

"The more points he spent on his dragon abilities, the higher his Tier," Medea explained. Tsunade knew she had spent considerable time with the man, talking about the nature of his abilities. "Baring his purchase of us, the greatest investment was on that."

"Indeed," Artoria nodded as she continued where her friend left. "We spent much time talking about dragons and their nature. It seems in the catalogue they were categorized by element. Fire, air, ice and the like. Mikael mentioned he was aware of other 'elements.' and more abstract concepts, such as power, multiplication, division, star, creation, and others. To meet the requirements of reaching the 10th Tier, he needed to purchase two such elements."

"Were his elements the issue?" Tsunade asked Emma directly. Once more, the silence spoke for itself. "One of them? Or both?" Emma still did not speak, though this time, the Hokage didn't know whether that was affirmative or not. "He did not have the madness element or some such, did he? Or perhaps, unknowable?"

"No." That answer looked like it was a struggle to say. They were teetering on the edge of the Comand. The others tried their own hand.

"Power?" "No."

"Time?" "No."

"Infinity?" "No."

"Void?" "No."

"Darkness?" "No."

"Death?" "No."

"We could attempt this for hours and still not find an answer," Diana finally interrupted the guessing game. "Now we know the root of the issue, we can take steps to address it. Medea, your Noble Phantasm would remove the power of the seals, correct? Is there any way to only remove one or two and leave the other intact?"

"No," the witch shook her head. Tsunade could almost see her mind racing, and, for a moment, the image of Orochimaru was superimposed on her. "Rule Breaker is absolute. If I try to sever one binding, it will sever them all. But we can prepare steps to make sure whatever caused the madness first doesn't affect you anymore."

"How so?" The kunoichi hoped it wasn't anything too wrong. As a ninja, she often didn't have the luxury of being moral, but Tsunade tried to do her best when given a chance.

"I've actually already started," Medea looked a bit sheepish. "Every time I cook, I put various materials in the food that bolsters us. When we arrived on the Island I'm sure you all noticed you were considerably stronger?" There were nods around the room, so the witch continued. "It was a benefit of the summoning. We all went up one Tier."

"That made us stronger, but how?" Glynda asked.

"While Mikael was vague on the exact details, he explained it as a qualitative difference. 1 through 3 are considered baseline humans. They might be skilled or intelligent but still limited to human abilities. 4-5 usually have one or two supernatural powers, the main difference being their strength, usefulness and possible downsides. Glynda and Robin, for example, are extremely dangerous but are limited to their devil fruit or semblance for the most part.

6 to ten are where things get finicky. I qualified as a six, but given enough time, materials, and magic, I could theoretically do most of what any of you could. Because of those limits, I am lower on the Tier. The easiest method to differentiate tiers is based on their possible effects. 6 is a strong ability but limited to a personal level. Anti-Personnel. 7 would be anti-fortress, 8 anti-continent, 9 anti-world, 10 will continue upwards to infinity from there so there would be a wide range."

"While the subject is interesting," Diana interrupted the impromptu lecture. "I believe we were asking how it would help Emma."

"Right," the witch looked embarrassed about her sudden tangents, but Tsunade didn't fault her for it. If the subject had been medicine (or booze), she could get just as distracted. "To make a complicated subject simple, every Tier is a qualitative change that not only makes us stronger but removes weakness. Robin can now swim, for example. As I said, I have been using materials in our food that will boost our Tiers the more we consume them. The lower the Tier, the less you need. I haven't been putting too much into the meals, only about 120ml per person, but I could up the dosage. If I compress about a litre per person, it shouldn't affect the taste too much. Maybe pills?" Medea devolved into a mumbling fit, but Tsunade had an important question.

"Any side effect?"

"Yes, but that is what we want if I want to be able to use Rule Breaker," Medea responded, barely paying attention to the med-nin.

"Excuse me?!" Emma interrupted.

"Raising your Tier is not feasible. Even if you took all three doses of 1 litre a day, we would need to continue for eight and a half years to get you to tier 9. Since the material comes from a dragon, as we ingest it, we will eventually cross a threshold and start manifesting draconic traits ourselves. To reach that point is much quicker. Only five months or so."

"You will become dragons?" Priscila chimed in, eyes shining.

"To a degree, though which form that takes will vary to my knowledge. It might be as simple as our bodies producing a Dragon Core like Arotria or turning us full draconic. Either way, the process will be fully reversible once it happens."

"I am not sure how comfortable I am with changing my body to that degree." The White Queen frowned at the greek witch.

"Then you will be bound by those commands for the rest of your life," Medea shrugged uncaringly. "If the problem is Mikael's draconic element driving you mad, then the only solutions are either removing your memories entirely or assuming an element for yourself."

"Fine," the mutant spoke as she stood up. "Then I assume we are done here. You all got your answers, and we are still no closer to getting aid to Mikael. What a waste of time."

"One last thing," Tsunade stood as well but regarded everyone else in the room for a moment. "If we are to be ingesting these substances, then I will be providing checkups on everyone weekly." Medea made to speak, but she was silenced by a look. "I am sure you will do your best, but this is non-negotiable. I have seen too many people get 'power-ups' only for it to destroy them. At the first sign of anything going wrong, we stop it. Are we clear?" The rest of the room made various sounds of agreement, though Medea looked a bit mulish. Too bad for her, Tsunade would not have a 'Hero Water' situation on her hands if she could help it.

"What about Mikael?" Tsunade heard Artoria ask Diana as the pair left the room.

"We wait," the amazon sighed. "Not much else we can do for the moment. At least we know he has not perished. We must trust him to come back to us eventually." Artoria did not look pleased by those words, but nobody else was either.
Tsunade was tired of waiting.

Thankfully, she only had to wait two more days. At 9am sharp, the Hokage vanished from the mansion while providing a checkup on Raven.

**********

As soon as Tsunade felt the summons, weight was removed from her chest.

Mikael had made it.

Looking around, she found herself on a stone gazebo in a wide field of tall grass. Great cliff faces towered above her on each side, and moonlight streamed from between the crag above.

Mikael lay curled up on the stone platform at her feet. He had returned to his 'jerky' form, as he called it. His skin was dried, pockmarked, and sunken in. She could count his bones, and his eyes were desiccated to the point she was shocked they could be used at all.

His form trembled as he cried. He whispered to himself, over and over again. The words were slurred and almost unintelligible but were repeated enough that the Sannin could piece them together.

"I didn't go hollow."

Great sobs racked him as he rocked back and forth. He hadn't noticed her, weeping as he was. Gone was the playful, somewhat stoic man and a wreck was all that had been left behind.

Silently, Tsunade crouched behind him. While he trembled, she cast a simple diagnostic Jutsu. Like the others, she couldn't affect the physical world, but her senses and abilities were not hindered. She couldn't heal him, but getting a scan was possible. She did so at every summoning as a security measure.

More than any of the others, she knew the strength he had accumulated over his journey. It had seemed like an absurd rate of growth, going from a civilian level of musculature to being able to rival her strength with physical power alone. Now that she knew it was over the process of decades, rather than the three months previously believed, his growth had made better sense.

All that growth was gone now.

He had returned to the level he had been in that cell. Decades of effort, pain and suffering had been wiped away. Tsunade had seen ninja give up over less. Even she felt frustrated.

But the former Hokage took a deep breath and sat beside the crying man. She wished there was something she could do. The med-nin found that even holding someone's hand could help. But, as usual, she passed through him.
So Tsunade sat by the man's side while he wept his heart out.

She sat there as the minutes dragged on, his open sobbing slowing to quiet whimpers. It was at least half an hour before he spoke.

"I didn't go hollow." He said the words as both an achievement and a curse. His voice was rough and gravelly, like someone who hadn't had water in far too long.

"You didn't," now that Tsunade truly understood what that meant, she couldn't help the pride that crept into her voice.

"I wanted to," he admitted. "I never wanted something so much in my life. I wanted all the thoughts, memories, and pain to disappear."

"But you didn't."

"I couldn't," Mikael sounded guilty as if admitting a great sin. "I tried letting go. Tried to give in. But like everything else, I didn't get a fucking choice." He practically snarled the last words.

"I am sorry." That was all she could say. Sorry that they were in this situation. Sorry that he was forced to go through this alone. Sorry that the world wasn't fair. Sorry that all his effort had gone unrewarded.

"It's fine," he mumbled as he sat up finally, wiping the tear stains from his eyes. "I don't blame any of you. You all are as much victims in this as I am." Tsunade didn't really agree with that but held her tongue. "Besides, there is good news. Our Freedom is guaranteed now."

"How so?"

"If I can't go hollow, it is just a matter of time until I beat the third game. It will take a while, maybe even a year on your end, but it will happen." While she was happy he could be optimistic about the situation, Tsunade was still not pleased with him.

"How long were you going to keep hiding the time difference?" Her eyes narrowed at him, daring him to lie once more. He blinked at her in surprise before shrugging his shoulders.

"As long as I could since it did not seem to matter."

"Did not matter!" Tsunade snarled, her fists clenching in frustration. She wished she could hit him. "You've been doing this for decades! How does that not matter?" He appeared unconcerned with her anger.

"For the same reason I can't go hollow. It ensures I will never settle down, constantly pushing me forward. My memories never fade, always the same as when I first appeared in that cell. It was initially why I chose that ending in the first place. Whether it takes me centuries or millennia, I will keep moving forward to be free." Tsunade narrowed her eyes at him.

"That is one of your elements, isn't it? Freedom? You are insane because you are a conceptual Dragon of Freedom which is trapped. Emma went into your mind, and it also drove her mad." Perhaps for the first time, Mikael looked disturbed.

"Did Medea use Rule Breaker? Is Emma okay?"

"We weasled some information out of her without breaking the commands. She is fine." Tsunade could appreciate he was worried for the mutant, but she wouldn't allow him to change the subject. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"You are, but only partially." He sagged, looking resigned. "To reach tier 10, I had to take two elements. I chose Freedom and Life. Now I am trapped and undead. The irony is astounding. I chose Freedom since I figured it would help with dimensional travel and Life, so I would be harder to kill. I didn't think it would be too much of a problem when I first wrote that story since you all would be enough to curb stomp Dark Souls."

"If every plan worked out, the world would be a better place." Tsunade tried to hold on to the anger. To feel hurt at his secret-keeping. To feel betrayed. Looking at him, so hunched and tired, made it impossible. In the end, she just sighed. That they knew now really did change nothing. "You said something back there while crying. You kept repeating, 'I didn't go hollow.' Why?"

It was difficult to make out a proper expression with his sunken eyes and emaciated face, but for the first time since the summoning, Tsunade could swear Mikael was smiling.

"I suppose it is why I like Dark Souls in the first place." He sounded nostalgic, and Tsunade settled in to hear a story. If all she could do to ease the pain was listen, then she shall. It was why she became a medic. "I enjoyed the combat, the immersive world, and the profound lore. If that had been all, I think Dark Souls would have been a good game, but it wouldn't have become the cultural icon it did later. You have to understand the central conceit of the game. Everything can be overcome. No matter how hard things get, how many times you die, or what you face, you only lose the game by giving up."

"Sometimes giving up is the right choice," Tsunade felt the need to point out.

"I am not disagreeing that letting things go can be a better option than clinging to them." He shook his head as if frustrated that she didn't understand his words. "This was a video game. There were no stakes. It was a hobby to enjoy. It was known for being difficult but always possible. To beat the game, all you needed was a will to carry on. Combat was exhilarating, but the joy came when you hit a wall. When you face a foe so tough, tricky, or outlandish that you throw yourself against them time and time again only to fail. Then suddenly, you succeed. You find a trick, raise your abilities, or simply get good. No matter how you do it, you finally succeed in breaking down that wall. That shot of endorphins was like nothing else back then. It suddenly felt like everything was possible. That there was nothing you couldn't do."

He gestured wildly as he spoke passionately on the subject. Some others might have looked down on him for getting so energetic about a hobby, but Tsunade was entirely pleased by it. It wasn't childishness that killed ninja. It was apathy. Like always, though, when discussing a passion, it was essential to keep them on track.

"That sounds nice, but what does that have to do with hollows? They are mindless undead, correct?"

"They are not mindless," he clarified. "They are will-less. They retain all their abilities, technique, and intelligence. They know to ambush and plan, to kill and rob. They even still know how to practice religion. The difference is that they do these things because it is simply all they know to do. They have given up on progress, on achieving anything meaningful. Anyone, literally anyone in the entire world, could have achieved what I did back in Lordran. They could have defeated all the same foes, killed the gods, defeated Gwyn and linked the fire. I was lucky enough to know it was possible and to have good teachers, but I was way more unprepared than anyone else. It took me a few decades where it could have taken a competently trained fighter much less time. I succeeded only because I never gave up. I only gave in at the end."

Mikael trailed off, looking melancholy once more. Tsunade thought urgently to try and keep him talking. "You were repeating it so often I thought it was a common phrase. I remember hearing something similar a few times when you summoned me."

"Though this world is dreary, drifting from one apocalypse to another, it isn't without its bright spots." He explained. "A few people who are always pleased to see you can go a long way. I tried my best to give those as good an ending as possible. One of them, in the original game, had a line. It was a throw-away thing, never intended to blow up the way it did. Every time you stepped away from him, he would bid farewell by saying, 'don't you dare go hollow.' It is at once a plea for your continued existence and affirmation that you are not facing this world alone.

Dark Souls, when it first came out, wasn't super popular. It was a cult hit for the longest time. Large enough that you didn't know everyone in the community but small enough that you would see some familiar faces every once in a while. People talked to each other on message boards, piecing together the lore and telling stories. It got around that, while the game never cured it, it helped people with depression. The idea of overcoming anything can help people who feel just getting out of bed in the morning is challenging. People would share their stories and end them with a message to the community. Don't you dare go hollow."

"That sounds nice." Tsunade wished something like that could have been possible in her world. By their very nature, ninja jealously guarded their secrets, and the idea of opening up anonymously to others would have turned their souls.

"I've been lucky enough to not have depression in my life. I've had my ups and downs, been in depressing situations, and even faced my mortality a time or two but never been clinically depressed. But I have had friends and family who have been. Something as innocuous as a video game, no matter how good, can be so life-affirming while being so dark. I have always found that beautiful. That saying, 'don't you dare go hollow,' stuck with me for over a decade before I was trapped in that cell. Before Gwyn and... the fire," he looked almost nauseous as he said the words. "It was something I repeated to myself over and over as a way to push forward. Now, since I cannot stay dead, go hollow, or give up, I suppose I do not need to anymore."

Seeing his mood drop, Tsunade turned the subject once more. She asked about this new land, she asked about his family and friends, she asked about anything and everything. By the fourth time she changed the subject abruptly, the med-nin was sure Mikael had wised up to her moves. He simply smiled softly at her and went on to explain the history of his homeworld as she had asked.

They stayed in that stone gazebo, in that grass field, for hours. Just talking, taking what comfort they could in each other's presence.

When Tsunade's time was up, the grey portal opened by itself behind her and started to subtly drag her, Mikael was looking better. Not happy, but more secure. Less like a sobbing wreck. He stood as she did, ready to face whatever challenges this new world, not with a smile but with a will.

Tsunade would have hugged him if she could, but all she could give him were some parting words. She stared into his eyes as the portal swallowed her, willing him to understand that he was not alone.

"Don't you dare go hollow."

************

Oh boy, oh boy, where to begin. Tsunade was a bit of an odd one to write. At once a matronly figure as well as a war-weary veteran. She has been a subtle player in this game and that will continue for a little while yet, I think. The time isn't quite right for her true worth to shine even if I am happy with how this chapter turned out.

First of all, we are getting answers, finally. Not all of them but a good chunk. Emma is still bound but a workaround has been found. I wonder how many of you caught on to that little tidbit from Priscila's chapter about the time difference? I try to make sure every chapter builds up on each other to tell a consistent story and that involves copious amounts of foreshadowing. I think I am addicted to it, actually.

Second of all, this marks a turning point in the relationships of the characters. Part 2 isn't just the period where Mikael is in DS2 but when the women of the island go from somewhat passive participants to active elements. They still can't help him directly but now will move to achieve their goals in a more active setting.

Thirdly, this chapter is by far the heaviest when it comes to setting up the rest of the story. I've laid the groundwork for almost the entire rest of the 'prologue.' Expect a few twists and turns, the characters are still missing a lot of information, but the framework has been set. I actually had to rewrite a few parts in order to not give away too much. See if you can spot all the seeds I've planted.

Finally, Mikael. His exact reasons are still unclear, though we now know more about his circumstances. I will be delving deeper into them in later chapters.
 
Oh it is part 2? I thought this was the end of 1. Anyways will Priscila get help? She sounds like she needs the regain your sanity command too
 
Isolation 2
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

******

If she could sweat, Medea would be dripping with it. So intense was her concentration that all else faded. She saw not the room around her. All senses were focused on her craft. One wrong move, one errant twitch, and the consequences would be disastrous. A mistake at this juncture would set her back days, to say nothing of the frustration and pain it would cause.

Success would bring glorious achievement.

Failure, utter ruin.

But she was Medea.

One of the greatest witches to ever live.

She had carved her name into bloody legend through her deeds and actions.

So with a hand that did not shake and a gaze that did not waver, she carefully slid the last piece into place. The Witch of Betrayal stepped back to admire her work.

"Finally," she whispered to herself almost reverently.

After weeks and months of toil, her masterpiece was complete.

"It is an impressive beast."

Medea, the Witch of Betrayal, one of the most significant magic users the world had ever seen, the figure of awe and terror, let out an undignified 'Eep' and tripped over herself as she fell backwards in surprise.

"The detail work on the scales is exquisite, and its eyes hold the ferocious cunning I would expect of a dragon." Artoria continued, unmindful of her friend's unexpected fall. She continued to eye the construct appraisingly. "I feel that the scale is a bit off, however."

"I couldn't keep it at a 1-to-1 frame. Otherwise, it would throw off the composition. Mikeal's body is just too large." Medea wiped herself down as she stood. Though surprised, she appreciated the blonde's silence while she worked. Unlike her workshop, this room wasn't kept locked. Had the king interrupted at the wrong time, her magnum opus could have been damaged.

She really needed to practice with Haki more.

The diorama stood exactly six feet tall, a few inches taller than the King of Knights and several more than Medea herself. It depicted a tremendous white dragon suspended in space, floating through magic. Its wings were unfurled, and it roared in triumphant ecstasy. Clutched in its claws was a great jewel. Two figures sat atop its back, between the two great wings and nested in an opening of spikes. One was a blonde woman in armour wielding a spear. Behind her, clutching the blonde in an embrace, was an elfin woman with blue hair in a white dress.

Medea stared at her creation with pride. This would have been impossible in her original world. She never had the time she wanted to indulge in her hobbies, unlike on the Island. Not only that, the material use was frightfully indulgent.

The jewel, the size of her head, was made of a composite of gemstones and enchanted to refract light in a beautiful spectrum. It had been formed by feeding a crystal lizard all those gemstones and mana over months. It was a material never seen on earth before. That was the least costly part.

Each scale of the dragon, thousands of them, had been carved from actual drake scales. Modern magi would have sold their heir, crest and all, to get a handful of them. Its fangs, proudly displayed as it roared, had been formed from those removed from one of the hydra's heads. Medea had asked Scathach to carve runes on each of the scales and fangs. Its body could stand up to one of Artoria's attacks, and should anyone touch the mouth unprepared, they would die a slow and excruciating death.

Its eyes were formed from the actual eyes of the hellkite drake, shrunk and repurposed. Though they possessed no unique ability, they had been enchanted to follow the path of anyone who approached, making the dragon come alive. The figures on the creature's back, barely a few inches tall, were also made from expensive materials. Artoria's hair was literally spun gold threads. Their clothes were made using the magic-infused silk of the spiders that had appeared on the Island. The 'space' the dragon floated in was made from cut 'darkness' Raven had provided. Every 'star' and 'galaxy' on the tapestry was woven from crystalized starlight. Astromancers would weep at the sight of the background alone.

The materials alone would have allowed Medea to purchase a country. And not a small one either.

Altogether, using magic lost and made by some of the most extraordinary women to walk the world? It was quite literally priceless.

"I spoke of my figure," Artoria explained as she gestured to the tiny knightess. "I do not believe them to be that prominent."

It took a moment for the witch to understand her intention. Once realization came, she turned from the depiction of King Arthur to the actual woman and stared at her. At her chest in specific.

"They're to scale," Medea said, her eyes not leaving the mounds that had attracted her attention like gravity. "Trust me, I was very... thorough."

"If you are sure," the blonde did not seem to notice the focused attention of her friend. Instead, she continued to look over the diorama. "And what of this figure. Who is this meant to represent?"

Not understanding what Artoria was talking about, Medea turned her attention to where the lancer was pointing with great effort.

There, in the great beast's mouth, was a third figure. Unlike the two women on the dragon's back, it had been created with little care. Dirty blonde hair, ragged clothes made from scrapes, it could have been a handsome man had its face not been painted in a rictus of agony.

"Oh, ignore that," Medea said casually. She reached up for the little blond fop of a figure, removed it from the dragon's jaws, and tossed it over her shoulder with little fanfare. "I use it to help me focus. It always lightens my mood." As Artoria did not look convinced, the witch promptly changed the subject. "So, what did you need me for?"

"Yes, well, ah, that is," Artoria stammered, her face flushing red at the question. She averted her gaze but managed to continue. "It has come to my attention that I have been neglectful and ignorant. I seek to rectify that at the earliest convenience. I would ask your aid with this task."

"Sure. What can I do to help?" Medea answered happily. She hoped this was going where she thought it was. Could the day get any better?

"I shall just speak the truth then." Artoria took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and looked into Medea's eyes again. "I have discovered I have romantic feelings for Sir Mikael. I do not wish to be left behind when we are free. I intend to court him with the intention to wed. I need your aid to do so."

It was all Medea could do not to squeal in joy. As it was, she had to physically restrain herself from pupping a fist in triumph. She settled for grinning happily. That earnest delivery, those deep green eyes set in resolute determination. Medea felt her heart flutter at the sight but managed to squeeze out a response.

"What brought this on?"

"I admit, I have been fond of Sir Mikael for a while." Medea had noticed that Artoria had taken to calling the man with that respectful title since they had held that meeting weeks ago. She thought it was due to the blonde's subtle competition with Priscila. "While lesser men would have decried the injustice of his plight, he has never maltreated us. He is steadfast in his quest and has become a valiant fighter. Had he been present during my reign, I would have been proud to have him counted among my Knights of the Round."

"That is high praise," for a person to be worth joining the round table of legend was a high honour. Especially if they came from the modern world. It would mean he was guaranteed a place in the Throne of Heroes. "But I meant why the sudden romantic interest?"

"Ah," Medea noted, due to academic curiosity only, that the flush this time crept all the way to Artoria's chest. The king continued her explanation. "I had been talking to Diana, and she mentioned that the impetus to venture from her home island had been an encounter with a man washed on the shore. They later were romantically entangled, though not wed, and I inquired further on any current object of affection she might have. She mentioned in jest that the only options she currently had were the ten of us women and Sir Mikael."

Medea blinked at Artoria in surprise. Did the blonde not understand that Diana meant she was interested in Mikael? Not only that, but did she not realize the Amazon had also declared her interest in Artoria?

"That response caught my attention." Heedless, the King of Knights carried on. "I spent some time pondering the topic and why it disquieted me. I then realized that my emotions towards our summoner differ from those I held towards my knights. While I knew this, their exact nature eluded me until I remembered Sir Lancelot's poems regarding his love affairs. The desire to remain close to him. The intention to hold him in my arms. The aching pit the idea of his departure leaves in my stomach. All these and more have led me to conclude that I wish to court our summoner."

"Then why come to me?" Not that Medea was opposed to it. Far from it. She would have to thank Diana later. This put her ahead by months of her initial estimation. The only unfortunate thing was that she kept her documents on the 'The Plan' in her workshop. She would have to revisit them at the earliest opportunity. "My marriages did not end on a particularly happy note."

"I am seeking all the advice I can receive," the blonde admitted with shame creeping into her voice. "Though I feel bad to say it, especially considering the tragic result of your first marriage, I still feel your experience would be of more use than mine. Had I not been such a terrible spouse towards Guinevere, perhaps Camelot would have continued for centuries. Even then, it had been a union for politics rather than love. I have no experience with romance at all. Considering my masculine form, I am not in a position to turn down aid."

Medea stared at her friend, her eyes roaming over her form in disbelief.

Legs that carried on for miles, thick thighs held up wide hips that, in turn, supported an ass you could bounce a coin off of. Her waist was trim, her stomach lightly toned from exercise, and her breasts were the stuff goddesses were jealous of. Her long hair flowed like silken gold and framed a face that was prominent with a hint of softness. Her eyes were like emeralds glowing with golden light.

Saying nothing of her cute personality, Artoria was a figure countries would war over.

Coming from a greek, that was quite literal.

Medea laughed. She couldn't help but do so. The juxtaposition of the severe mood of the knight and the humour of her last words set the witch off into a fit of giggles.

"I'm sorry about that," the witch apologized, still giggling behind her hand. Artoria's eyebrow had twitched, but she showed no other response. "I simply found your last statement to be too amusing. You are a gorgeous woman Artoria. Anyone would be lucky to call you their own." The king's annoyance was gone instantly, and her blush had returned full force.

"I appreciate your words Medea," the blonde looked away in embarrassment. "However, I must make all efforts if I am to convince Sir Mikael of that. Many of my knights have liked love to a battlefield. I am severely unarmed and understaffed and would ask your aid in the coming conflict."

"Hm," Medea hummed playfully. Finger on her lips, she smiled up at the blonde. There was an opening here. "Are you aware of the other generals on the field?"

"Excuse me?" Artoria looked perplexed at her words.

"Indeed," the witch nodded sagely as if revealing the world's truth. "I cannot speak to Robin, Raven, Emma, nor Tsunade, as they keep their battle plans to themselves. Yoruichi and Scathach have already stated their war aims, however. They intend to take Mikeal to bed at the earliest convenience. Glynda, a new general in the field, has developed a crush on the target. Though inexperienced, she calls on Scathach for aid. They make a powerful coalition. Priscila has already staked a claim. Diana, despite her desires, can be swayed to our side."

"So many strong foes," Artoria whispered as she stared into the distance. Then her eyes widened and refocused on Medea's own. "And your intentions?"

"I, of course, remain your ally in this war." Medea smiled guilelessly up at her friend. "Not only will I help Diana come to our side, but I shall act as your leading advisor in the conflict. Together, we shall form a triumvirate and be triumphant." Artoria's eyes shone positively with competitive joy before they calmed and were serious.

"If this leads to discord, it might be more prudent to hold off on the attempt." The blonde looked pained by the admittance but continued on. "My kingdom fell due to infighting. I do not wish that my actions would again lead to such an event."

"Ah, but my king," Medea practically purred as she sidled up to her friend and crush. "That is all within my plans. I aim not for a drawn-out war but a bloodless victory."

"Is it possible to learn such tactics?" The king of knights looked so hopeful, Medea almost 'squee'd at the cuteness level.

"Some may consider my tactics to be... unnatural," Medea admitted slyly. "But those are only for those too ignorant of the world. I am sure you have heard of romances between two women. Diana was not joking when she listed the other women on the island as possible interests."

"Such a thing is possible?" Artoria's face was a deep scarlet, and she hung, wide-eyed, on every word. Had she known of such things, perhaps her marriage with Guinevere would not have ended so tragically. Luckily, Professor Medea was here to teach her.

"Not only possible but common," the witch explained. "During my time, heterosexuality was mostly the norm for procreation, and the same sexes were meant to find pleasure in each other. Without men for thousands of years, I imagine that was all Diana knew before leaving her island. Even here, I have noted Yoruichi and Tsunade disappearing for a while for some... intimacy."

"Re-really?" Artoria gulped. Her entire body was now the colour of a beet.

"Indeed," Medea whispered. She was practically flushed against her companion. "I know Diana has taken Scathach and Yoruichi to bed on occasion. I suspect our dear Celt has been teaching Glynda a few things as well."

"How does this help us win over Sir Mikael?"

"Why fight an enemy when we can turn them into allies? Our victory condition is getting Mikael to be interested romantically in you, is it not? To have him take you with him once we are free?"

"It is."

"Then we shall use honourable diplomacy to negotiate with foreign powers to achieve a common purpose. Some concessions will have to be made to ensure all parties receive appropriate benefits, but such is the nature of war!" Medea said with finality as she stepped back from the lancer. Artoria was still flushed red, but she looked resolute and determined.

"I shall thank you in advance, Medea. With your wise counsel, I see us winning a complete victory!"

"Of course we will. But first, we must arm ourselves." The greek stepped further from the blonde. Behind her new diorama was a pair of doors that she threw open. Lined on each side were numerous articles of clothing in various styles and colours. Coincidently, they should all fit Artoria. "As a caster, I should always be prepared. My armoury is at your disposal, my king."

What perfect timing. Medea had just been thinking she needed a new project. Forget a diorama or lost magics; this would genuinely be her pinnacle achievement.

********

"Time is weird here," Mikael explained. The pair sat atop a tower overlooking a ruined fort of sorts. The belfry commanded an excellent sea view as the full moon illuminated the couple. Medea had been ecstatic to have such a romantic spot for their meeting. Granted, Mikael made a point of showing the more beautiful areas of the world to all the women on the Island. She suspected that he wouldn't allow them to see the worst parts. Still, Medea would take what she could get.

The pair had spent the last few hours talking, laughing, and (to her not-so-secret delight) bashing all the gods they knew about. As it turned out, Mikael was philosophically an agnostic but realistically an atheist, as he put it. He did not deny the possible existence of gods, merely that humanity would be better off without them and that, if they did exist, mankind should act like they don't. The topic had turned from Cronos and why he was an idiot to the nature of time in this world.

"It has degenerated and warped. Take this belfry, for example. No matter how long we rest here, the full moon will never rise nor fall. Other places are perpetually bright or bathed in the setting sun. It was the same in Dark Souls 1."

"Is this related to the convergence?" She subtly leaned closer, trying to show off her curves and make it seem accidental. She hadn't known where she would be summoned, so she had gone for a catch-all outfit. A dress that showed generous cleavage but wouldn't be out of place on an afternoon stroll. She had been trying to draw his attention for the last few hours with limited success.

"Maybe," he shrugged. He either didn't notice Medea's movements or pretended not to. "Things are different than they were in the games. Larger, more complicated. In the game, the degeneration of time was used as an excuse for multi-player and summoning aid. The areas didn't change because they had not been programmed to. What is natural and a byproduct of an end of a cycle is hard to differentiate."

"If time has deteriorated to the point where its natural flows are disrupted, then it would follow that space would too." Medea pointed out while casually brushing a lock of hair behind her ears. "If the cycle of destruction and repair happens enough, it would eventually collapse from a build-up of damages. As it nears the end, revolutions would happen quickly, and past events and people would overlap with present ones. If hollows do not need sustenance and lack a will, they probably would not even notice."

"Something like that happens in the third instalment. Not only do all time periods converge, but old Lords of Cinder rise from their graves."

"You've used that term before, 'Lord of Cinder.' What qualifies one for the title?"

"The basic requirement is to link the flame." At Medea's expression, he continued. "That essentially means defeating all who stand between you and the kiln where the first flam resides, absorbing their souls in the process and making your own much greater for it. There are other ways to do it than fighting, but they all boil down to having a powerful enough soul that can act as kindling for the flame to last an eon."

"Like you?" Medea asked softly. Though her partner couldn't feel it, she nonetheless put her hand on his.

"Like me," he nodded while grimacing. A full-body shudder ran through him at the memory. "I have died a hundred different ways, none of them pleasant. The First Flame, becoming a Lord... it's something else entirely. It burns not your body but your soul. The stronger the soul, the longer it lasts. It is a searing agony, torture so extensive that it literally drove gods mad. It goes on and on for centuries, millennia. You do not notice the time passing. You do not see the world changing. All you can feel is agony. Your body only moves instinctually because your mind is so consumed with pain. It only ends when someone comes to kill you and take your place. It drives everyone hollow eventually."

"Not you," she tried to reassure him.

"I would have, had I not had out-of-context benefits from my elements driving me forward. I do not even know who replaced me. I was too blinded by the pain to see. I do not think I put up much of a fight."

"And you have to do this two more times?" Medea asked, fist clenched in anger and frustration. She relaxed when she saw him shake his head.

"I know I won't have to in the third game. I am going to put out the fire for good then. I hope I won't have to here either. There are always two possible endings. Either you link the fire and become a Lord of Cinder, or you walk away and let it fade. Even if you walk away, someone will eventually come and link it because it will never go out completely."

"Then why didn't you do that last time?" Medea asked hotly. She hated seeing him in pain. The first time she had been summoned after his fight with Gwyn, he had been a wreck of his former self. She had been helpless, unable to aid him in any way. It was one of the worst experiences of her life.

"I didn't know it would work out like that," he defended. While he had recovered somewhat since he was still far less prone to laughter and jokes than before. "The games end after you link the fires. Yes, you get burned, but it fades to black afterwards. I've been burned to death dozens of times. Once more would have been a small price to pay for freedom. On top of that, the other ending is even more ambiguous. It is just walking away. There is no explanation of what happens. It is supposed to be an 'age of darkness,' but that never happens until the third game. I couldn't take the risk that it wouldn't qualify as 'completing' the game."

"I hope you know that if I could hit you, I would." Medea took a deep breath to calm herself. "I know you do not want to die. I know you are doing the best you can. But we care about you. I care about you. Seeing you like this, throwing yourself into danger and pain while we sit on the side, is driving us mad. So please, take whatever steps you need to but try and keep your deaths to a minimum."

"I'll try," he looked uncomfortable at her earnest plea. Medea cracked a smile. Mikael was weak to positive feelings directed at him for his prickly sides, sarcasm, and dark humour. He used his personality like a sword and shield, never letting anyone in. Earnestness, the witch had found, would be the key to his heart.

"Good! I do have a question, though."

"Shoot," the man looked relieved for the change of subject.

"If you were conscious and 'alive' for that whole process, how come none of us were summoned?"

"I wasn't in the right frame of mind to catalogue things, you understand," the witch rolled her eyes at his sass but smiled. "I think it's based on how I learned to delay the summonings. Much like you all, I can feel a summons coming before it happens. I have to be looking for it, but it is there. It starts to build up like a well of energy ready to burst. It gives me about a day's warning at that point before any of you appear."

"It is the time dilation between places," Medea confidently said. "A few seconds on the island is a few days here. The ratio is inconsistent except for whenever we are summoned. I have been able to measure that on our end. I think whatever is causing the summoning is doing it when the flow of time is closest. That happens when the sun is up on the island at three-hour intervals."

"When did you figure that out?"

"I had the data I needed within the first week. I was only missing the knowledge of how much time more time passed on this end compared to the island. If only someone hadn't lied to me about it only being a week." The greek playfully glared up at Mikael. The man only turned to the side and whistled innocently.

"In my defence," he said with a guilty smile. "When we started, it was only a week between summonings, as far as I could tell. It is only when I consciously delay it that it roughy quintuples."

"No, never finished your explanation on that."

"Right, so a well of energy starts to build up about a day before a summoning. Essentially, I try and focus on not releasing that energy. It is annoying, like having gas in your stomach but no release. After about an hour, the feeling goes away, and the energy subsides. It will stay with me for the next few weeks, not making any movement but eventually, it starts to build again. It gets to the point I cannot contain it and have to let it out. That energy never built up while I burned."

Medea stared up at him, searching his eyes for any indication that this was another one of his pranks. There was no humour in them.

"So," she started slowly as if talking to a child. "We are being summoned across time and space, likely through some use of the second True Magic, by a magical fart."

Mikael raised his finger to defend his point, lowering it again after a moment of thought.

"You know, I never thought of it like that. You are right." Realization seemed to dawn on him, and he smiled widely. "Are you saying my farts are the farts that will pierce the heavens? That it is the one fart to rule them all?"

Medea collapsed into a fit of giggles. It was low-brow humour of the worst sort. Childish in the extreme. It was such a Mikael thing to say, to make something so serious sound silly. Medea loved it.

"You are the worst," she said between chuckles.

"I think I'm funny, and that is all that matters." he pouted at her before grinning.

"I'm glad," Medea said after her laughter died.

"Hm?"

"That you are no longer pushing us away." She explained. Since he returned from the kiln, he had stopped trying to shoo them away. Before, he would talk to them for a bit and then leave. While they could follow, he clearly didn't want them to. Now, he spent time with them. Not only her but everyone from the island would spend as much time with him as possible before being called back.

"I'm sorry," he winced, looking down at her. Medea hated the pain in his eyes but loved the concern they showed when they looked at her. "I'm being selfish. I just got so lonely and missed you all."

"No, continue. In fact, I wish you would go back to the three-hour interval summonings." Mikael shook his head at her words.

"I won't. It would take too long then. As it is, you all will be trapped there for at least a month more for this game, and who knows how long for the 3rd."

"Fine, but at least take breaks. No matter how long it takes, I'll be waiting for you." She stared deep into his eyes. He looked away.

"You know I cannot return your feelings."

He said the words softly to her. In other circumstances, Medea would have felt hurt. She would believe it was due to her past as a witch. That she was being judged. Medea knew Mikael enough that he meant it literally when he said he could not return her feelings.

He physically could not return her feelings.

The exact reasons continued to elude her, but she suspected it had to do with whatever Emma was still commanded not to reveal. The greek was already working on that.

More than that, Mikael had chosen her.

He had known her history, her deeds as the Witch of Betrayal. He knew that her Noble Phantasm was the one thing that posed a threat to his command seals, the only means of control he possessed. He willingly gave up on multiple forms of mind control that would have made what Aphrodite did to her seem like a child's prank.

Despite all that, he had still chosen Medea.

Is it any wonder she would feel this way?

"You can't for now," Medea corrected. When Mikael tried to respond, she held up her hand. "As I said, I'll be waiting. We will. I look forward to the day you can look me in the eyes and say these words to me."

She stood, opening the portal back to the Island. She looked at him as he stared at her in shock. She needed to be blunt and earnest. Otherwise, he would continue deflecting. So she said the words that she knew to be true within the first month of the summoning.

"I love you."

Medea would deny it till her dying day, but she enjoyed leaving him speechless for once.

******

On the subject of bisexuality, the greeks were well known for it so I think it makes sense for Caster and Wonder Woman. Also, Medea spent a lot of time on Circe's island, you cannot tell me there was no hanky panky going on there. Same for Diana and Themyscira. Artoria is also, canonically, bisexual but prefers men. Yoruichi would sleep with anything hot enough, I think. As would Scathach. I imagine the celt seducing Glynda in the name of 'training.'

I took a stab with Tsunade since her only canonical romances were male, but I can imagine kunoichi not being too selective in who they find comfort with. None of these women are prudes, though some are more experienced than others. Do not expect them to jump into bed together but they do know what they want and are mature enough not to judge.

I had always intended Medea to be the first to fall in love. We sometimes joke about consent being the best fetish but to her consent is THE fetish. Mikael pokes her buttons perfectly, even without any lures. He is a) a bit morally ambiguous without being an asshole b) not a pretty boy c) had the chance to mind control her and didn't take it and d) doesn't like gods of any sort (this last one is a recently discovered bonus).

Again, canonically she fell in love with Soichiro for much less than this over the process of a week. I've been slowballing her to give the characters more room to breathe.
 
Isolation 3
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.

*******

Glynda watched Pricila weave around her foes.

The dragon girl winced as a crystal weapon struck her side but managed to swing her scythe through the construct. Her unique ability, Lifehunt, instantly drained all magic, Aura, and Haki from it, and the humanoid figure fell to pieces on the ground. Glynda focused for a few moments, four more crystalline figures attacking the hybrid while the teacher reassembled their fallen comrade from scratch.

Strictly speaking, using her Semblance to construct and move the crystals as a humanoid figure was inefficient. Glynda would see greater success in a real fight by piloting the pieces individually. But this was training for both herself and Priscila. The dragon girl needed more combat experience, and Glynda needed finer control with her much-improved senses.

Could she construct and pilot the puppets faster than Priscila could destroy them?

Glynda had discovered that the answer was yes, so long as Priscila was her only foe. Her burgeoning Observation warned her of an incoming attack, and the teacher managed to tilt her head to the side to avoid the arm that appeared.

Introducing Robin to atomic theory had been a mistake Glynda regretted almost instantly. Apparently, her flower-flower fruit needed a foundation on which to 'bloom.' Once she realized that air, and other fluids and gases, were made up of the same materials as solid objects, she took to forming her appendages in mid-air at a moment's notice.

This caused her no extra strain, judging by the pirate continuing to read her book from several hundred yards away.

This distraction cost Glynda as her control over her forming construct waned, and Priscila managed to destroy three more in a matter of moments while turning invisible.

Not that it helped.

The atomic theory had also aided Glynda, which was why she had pointed it out to Robin. Using the mix of Semblance and Observation Haki that quickly became her primary tool, the teacher felt the molecules of air being displaced and had her remaining constructs, all seven of them, attack the unseen woman.

Not expecting it, Pricila took a few hits. Though it was blocked by her Aura, Glynda was happy to see the dragon girl recover quickly. More than anything else in the field, adaptability was what saw hunters survive the horrors of the Grimm.

The spar continued for another quarter of an hour before the combinations of Robin's interference and Pricila's fighting managed to down all enemies simultaneously. By that point, the dragon girl had lost her Aura and was bleeding from a few places.

Tsunade sat on the sidelines with Robin and watched the various training fields and had her patched up in moments. Taking the chance for a breather, not physically tired but mentally strained, Glynda watched the others spar.

Artoria and Diana, the two strongest fighters of the women, decimated the landscape with their duel. They kept it within manageable levels so Medea could repair the field later. Artoria did not release her Noble Phantasm, nor did Diana employ her various blessings. The only techniques they used, besides their burgeoning Haki and skill, were their summoning skills. Artoria fought side by side with a massive lion made of lightning. It was a skill derived from one of her knights, one of many as Glynda understood it.

Diana, by contrast, led a small team of aura constructs. The amazon's Semblance, they had discovered, allowed her to summon images of other women from her home island of Thymescria. The absolutely massive lion towered over half a dozen of said constructs. This was a battle between an Ursa and a pack of Beowolves. Either of these women would have been one of the greatest huntresses ever.

Glynda did not envy them. She merely respected their strength and appreciated their skill. (The part of her who had spent many a night 'learning' from Scathach also appreciated their beauty.) Instead, the huntress envied another combatant.

The reason this group training session had become an almost daily occurrence was faced off against Scathach. Emma was sweating with exertion, while the Celt looked barely the worse for wear. For all that the pair were the same Tier, the blonde was a much less experienced fighter. In fact, the group had been rather shocked when, at breakfast one morning, she had asked for training.

More than happy to help and get to know the White Queen better, many other women had pitched their support for the idea. Everyone was expected to join whenever a group training session was ongoing. All the women took turns learning from one another in various fields, bringing them much closer than the disparate groups and cliques they had been before.

That still didn't help the pang of envy Glynda felt at seeing Emma, in her diamond form, dodge a strike from her opponent and respond with a punch from a fist coated in black. It wasn't her fighting abilities but her raw talent with Haki that the huntress wanted.

Apparently, Observation and Armament were very complimentary towards her natural mutations, and the psychic had picked them up like a duck to water. Already she was as good as Glynda, despite having trained only a fraction of the time. While nobody had yet achieved the ability to predict the future or attack internally just yet, the huntress suspected that Emma would overtake them all and be the first. Baring Robin, of course.

"It is pointless feeling jealous," the pirate looked up from her book to tell the teacher. "Compared to the people of my world, you all are progressing at absurd rates. Even my captain, a monster of talent when it came to Haki, took years to where you all have reached in months."

"So you've told us," Glynda knew she was making significant progress. She knew it would be a slaughter if she faced off against herself from four months ago. "It is simply our nature. Humans are always envious creatures. It is only by self-discipline that we can control ourselves."

"What a dark way to think." Though she said it, Robin smiled at the blonde.

"Get your grub, everyone," Yoruichi yelled, calling a halt to the ongoing spars. The mocha-skinned woman was followed by Raven, who floated a table covered in food towards the group. Looking over the food, Glynda felt her stomach rumble. It seemed like Yoruichi had once more cooked some dishes from her homeland. They were a particular favourite of the blondes.

Taking a seat besides Artoria, who had practically teleported to the table, Glynda filled up her plate in a much more sedate manner than the King. Once again, the food was exquisite, one of the best parts about being trapped on the Island.

Once Glynda had polished off her second plate and emerged from her food trance, she looked around. Artoria was, of course, still going strong with a pile of dishes at her side. How she could eat so properly yet so quickly, Glynda would never know. The others were talking, Scathach advising Emma after their most recent bout, Yoruichi was telling a bawdy joke that had Robin giggling and Priscila looking scandalized. Raven sat quietly, eating to the side while Tsunade healed a few cuts and bruises that Diana had accumulated. Unlike her foe, she didn't have an artifact of incredible power that healed her instantly.

"Glynda?" Medea drew the huntress' attention from across the table. "It's your turn at 3, right?"

"It is," she answered simply.

"Would you mind asking him to collect a few more of the red fans the desert sorceress use? I need another dozen or so for a project," the witch explained.

"Of course." It would be no trouble and an excellent chance to repay the witch for indulging in the huntress' more 'creative' requests for clothing.

"I appreciate it."

"What is the nature of this new project?" Artoria had taken a moment to pause in her gluttony to ask the question.

"I've been studying the nature of fire in that world," the greek explained. "It is such a key concept that I figured that if I could learn more about its uses, I might build a Bonfire on this end that Mikael would be able to travel to."

"Any success?" Glynda couldn't help the hope that crept into her voice.

"None so far. I have been able to replicate most of the pyromancies Mikael knows of, even creating a few of my own, but Bonfires are another subject entirely. From what he has explained, they are made by burning humanity, the spiritual fragments, and the undead to act as kindling. Since nothing 'alive' can travel through the portal but us, I have tried various materials to replicate it. So far, I have seen the most success with the fans of the sorceresses. I don't think it will be what I need, but everything I learn now can help."

"Is there any way I can aide you?" Artoria asked seriously.

"Not right now." The witch shook her head, looking regretfully at the King. "Your help evaluating the dragon materials was appreciated, but this work is a bit delicate."

"Then I might be of assistance," Glynda offered. The elfin woman eyed her for a moment in contemplation before responding.

"You don't have circuits, so the magecraft itself will be beyond you. But your Semblance could help with construction. Aura might be able to help as well since it is soul-based, like many things of that world. After you return from Mikael, drop by my workshop, and we'll see what we can do."

"Very well," Glynda returned to her meal. She vaguely noticed Medea and Artoria gesturing to one another in silent communication before the King addressed her again.

"Glynda," her fellow blonde leaned in as she spoke in a whisper. Her face was red and wouldn't meet her eyes. "I have been made aware of some relationships I wasn't privy to before. It is true that you and Scathact are entangled... romantically?"

"What of it?" Though her face flushed, Glynda fought to keep her voice even. If there was one thing you learned while teaching super-powered teenagers, it was to never let them see you squirm.

"I meant no insult," Artoria hurriedly replied, still keeping her voice down. "I simply have no knowledge of such subjects and was curious."

"Oh." While the huntress had never been worried about judgement from her peers on the Island, a weight did ease from her at the lion king's words. She thought they had been discreet. Her face was still flushed, and she squirmed awkwardly in her seat, but she did answer. "What would you like to know?"

"Ah," Artoria had clearly not expected the question as she looked to Medea for help. The greek witch, the only one within whispering distance, was watching the conversation with a smile. Seeing no help from the bluenette, the knight turned back to the teacher. "I suppose I would ask what brought it on? It wasn't common in my day, though I hear it is so in different cultures."

"Well," Glynda shifted awkwardly in her seat, trying to find the most diplomatic way to explain. "It wasn't uncommon where I come from, though not the norm. I confess to having no experience with romance either, so Scathach has been a great help. Even if she can get a bit... wild." Medea grinned harder, and Glynda's flush deepened. The witch had been the one to provide the pair with many of the 'tools' they had requested.

Thank god for Aura and its healing effects.

"Pardon if this is too delicate a question." Artoria was still red-faced, but she stared at Glynda thoughtfully. "I was under the impression that you were interested in Sir Mikeal? Do you intend to pursue him or Scathach?"

"Can it not be both?"

Two pairs of green eyes stared at each other for a moment. A perverse giggle interrupted their focus. The pair turned to look at Medea. The witch barely noticed. Instead, she continued to stare. Looking down, Glynda realized why. To remain quiet, the pair had leaned closer. In their visual confrontation, they hadn't noticed that their considerable busts had been pressed against each other. The image was certainly one that could inflame lust.

Realizing the same thing, Artoria leaned back with an awkward cough.

"Again, I meant no insult." The lion king explained. "I would simply like to know if you would be opposed to working together to ensure success in our mission of courting Sir Mikael?"

"You mean you both are trying to seduce him?" Glynda asked, though she already knew the answer. The huntress had long given up hope of anything exclusive with the man. Scathach, she had come to find, could be very persuasive.

"We have already enlisted the aid of Diana and Priscila," Artoria said with all seriousness of one of her students handing in an After Action Report. "With your and Scathach support, we will command a majority force of the Island's inhabitants. Yoruichi, too, is an object of recruitment. The remaining four have not shown nor declared a romantic interest in our target yet. Should they do so in the future, with our superior numbers, we would be able to enlist them to our aid if they proved agreeable. Should they attempt a solo action, they could be hindered by our coalition."

"I am not opposed to working together," Glynda said seriously. Neither Scathach nor herself had much luck in swaying Mikael's determination to leave them once they were free. "I would just like to make one thing clear."

"Very well," Artoria looked relieved that the conversation was drawing closed. She continued eating throughout the talk, and her large meal was almost done. "State your terms."

"It is not required to be romantically involved with each other, correct?" While the huntress was fearful/hopeful of the answer, having recently discovered the pleasure of sapphic love, she would not be pressured into anything. What happened would either happen naturally or not at all. Though she wouldn't say it aloud, Glynda was a romantic. Recent changes, non-withstanding, of course.

Artoria choked on her food. The lion king flushed a deep scarlet as she hacked for air. The other women of the Island looked over at the struggling blonde before returning to their conversations as she got her breathing under control.

"It is, hack, not a requirement, no."

Glynda let out a long breath before flushing again at Medea's following words.

"It is a bonus."

********

"What is your fascination with high places?" Glynda couldn't help but ask.

The pair were sitting atop a cliff in a small refuge. Majula, she believed it to be called. It was a hub for refugees and those who remained sane, serving as a waypoint between several important stops in this kingdom of Drangleic. This wasn't her first time summoned to the small collection of battered houses. While Mikael had shown the Island's women some beautiful sights over the last few months, Glynda could admit this little village's calming influence was something she enjoyed. They had been talking about their childhood over the last few hours when the question came to mind.

"It is not so much high places themselves as the views they can give." Her companion for the evening gestured out over the ocean, the setting sun painting it a vision of warm colours. "The world is a different place when viewed from up high. You see farther, little details are lost, and there is a tiny bit of fear in your stomach, no matter how protected you are from falling. That feeling is one of the only things that has remained the same for me after all these years. Even if I return from death, the primal instinct that fears the fall remains the same."

"So it reminds you of your humanity?" She tried one of the tactics Medea had recommended, brushing her shoulder close to his. Though they couldn't touch, it was supposed to make him aware of her presence more than anything else. Much better than Scathach's and Yoruichi's recommendation of being summoned naked.

"Yes, but it is more than that." Mikael did not talk loudly, nor did he care to whisper. His even tone was still loud enough for other residents of the small town to look over at him askance. Glynda could imagine what they were seeing. A strong undead holding a conversation with thin air. They must think him mad, or at least close to hollowing. Mikael did not care and kept up the discussion.

"High places help me think. I've always preferred broad ideas rather than getting bogged down by minutia. Some people like getting every detail right, but I like comprehension over memorization."

"I cannot say the same. While I enjoy wide views, I prefer having all the I's dotted and T's crossed. If we are too lax with the minutia, errors eventually accumulate."

"I imagine that happened a lot at Beacon?" He grinned at her, and her heart fluttered a bit. That stupid grin of his. Her emotions didn't show on her face.

"Managing the budget alone took weeks. None of my colleagues could write an accurate report or requisition form to save their lives."

"Ah, the wonders of bureaucracy! We need it because the world is complicated, but we hate that we do. Trust me, I feel your pain. The next person to complain of lack of inventory, despite never requesting the items in the first place, I am going to throat punch." Glynda stared at Mikeal in surprise.

"I wasn't aware that you worked in such a profession before."

"I did have a life before all this, you know?" He deadpanned at her. "I wasn't rich, but I was still a relatively successful businessman. I've worked in pretty much every aspect, from sales, supplies, management, and human resources to advising positions."

"I cannot imagine you in a stuffy boardroom with people like the Vale Council," Glynda giggled into her hand at the image. Mikael was irreverent, sarcastic, playful, and laid back.

"Really?" He looked surprised at her words, as if not understanding her disbelief. "I could be formal with the best of them. I was often accused of being boring, working too hard, or taking things too seriously." Glynda's giggling almost erupted into full-blown laughter, but she used her considerable self-control to stifle it. Mikael? Boring? She briefly wondered if it was a cultural difference between the two worlds.

"You will pardon me if I don't believe you."

"I'm serious," he insisted. "I think it's because you all have a distorted view of me. It's partly the lures' fault, but I haven't been precisely trying to be formal either. You all see me when I am relaxed, not focusing, nor do manners matter in this world. I've been treating you like I would close family or friends. Why wouldn't I? When we first met, I had been trapped in a cell for a month and had nothing to lose. I am a much different person in a professional setting."

"If you say so," Glynda said the words but wasn't focused on them. Instead, she fought the flush rising to her cheeks. Like family?

"You'll see," he shook his fist comically in the air at her as if decrying his vengeance against this grave insult. "You'll all see! I will prove how boring I can be! Just watch!"

"Do you plan on returning to the business field when free?"

"Hm? Not really." He thought about her question for a moment. "Depending on the worlds I visit, I will probably do something to get some local currency, but that would be it. One of the main reasons I invested so much into the dragon perk tree was to get the ability to travel between worlds at my leisure rather than depend on Company restrictions. There is just so much to see and do, you know?"

"Like what?"

"I want to return to a version of my home world, only in the past. A lot was lost over history that I would like to learn about. I want to visit your world too, see the shattered moon and the Grimm lands. I want to visit a world covered in the ocean. I want to see various afterlives, meet and talk to famous figures. I want to watch a world be born and see the end of time. I want to try various cultures' food, see their festivals, and observe their wars."

Mikael talked at length about the various things he would like to see and do. He stared out over the ocean, his voice drowning with longing as he spoke. Glynda's heart clenched in sympathy for the man. While they were all trapped, in one form or another, it bust be excruciating for him considering his Element.

"... feel the Force flow through me and pilot a starship. I want to go where no man has gone before. I want to watch heroes and villains live their lives with all the joys and sorrows it brings. I want to fight gods and monsters, visit the fey, destroy an undead horde or two, and even take a dip in at hell."

"It sounds like you have a long list," Glynda interjected as he took a breath.

"Too long to count," he nodded. "The Waifu Catalogue, the challenge the story I wrote was based on, was more often than not used as an excuse to write wish-fulfillment pornography. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with that, and many of the stories were good despite it. I just never found one that I thought really captured the spirit of pure joy unlimited multiversal travel could bring. Sex is great. Magical sex with your favourite characters would probably be even better, mind-control excluded. But even without it, the catalogue had so much to offer. That was one of the reasons I wrote the story. I liked to imagine somewhere out there was a version of me enjoying a never-ending journey."

The pair sat in silence for a quiet moment, enjoying the setting sun, the sounds of the surf and the crackling fire behind them.

"What about you?" Mikael asked after the moment was over. "Do you have any plans when you get home? You're immortal now and will be stronger than Salem by the time you get there. You have a genuine chance of ending the Grimm threat. Even if you can't kill her, you could still trap her so deep in the earth's crust that she would never be a problem again."

"There would be no point. She's already won." Though her voice was even, Glynda could not help the despondency that filled her at the memories.

"What?"

"Salem acquired all four relics," the blonde explained in a monotone. "She summoned the gods, and Remnant is long gone. She is as dead as the rest of the world." There was a long moment of silence before Mikael spoke again.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." She wiped the bit of condensation in her eyes before continuing. "In a way, I am glad that you summoned me. Even if my world is dead, I know a form of my friends and colleagues live on in other worlds now. They are not the same people, but I like to think a bit of their souls live on as well."

"I could drop you off on one of those worlds," he offered. "You could see them again."

"While I wouldn't mind a visit, that is not where I want to spend the rest of my time." Glynda stared Mikael dead in the eyes, wordlessly willing him to understand her intentions. He grimaced and looked away.

"You know I can't do that," he said. "It wouldn't be fair to you or me. I can promise you what I promised Scathach. You can stay with me until we find a world you like. After that, it will be goodbye. You will be free to visit the Island and see the others there, I couldn't stop you if I wanted to, but I probably would never stay."

"Isn't the Island attached to you?" Glynda narrowed her eyes at the undead man.

"It is," he agreed. "But I do not know what is going on inside of there, nor am I compelled to visit. It would be nice to have a rest stop whenever I wanted, but I can leave it for you all to use as a base."

"So what," the teacher asked harshly. "You get your freedom, dump us at the first chance you get and then never meet again?" Mikael looked resigned at her words but nodded.

"That is the plan. Finding the worlds will probably take a bit of time, but it shouldn't take too long."

"You think any of us will be happy with that?" Glynda's self-control was all that kept her from snarling the words. "That Medea won't use her entire arsenal for hunting you down? That Scathach and Artoira won't join hands to kick your ass? Do you think we won't spend years on that Island pestering you till you give in? Guess what? Many of us have nothing better to do with our lives, so just give in!"

"You think I want this? Any of this?" He almost shouted at her. The other residents were definitely watching them now. Glynda noticed more than a few take steps away from where Mikael sat. "In any other circumstances, I would love nothing more than to have you all with me. Even if nothing romantic happens, I like you all enough that travelling with you would have been a joy. I chose you not only because you were beautiful but because I thought we would all get along. That working together would be fun rather than a challenge."

"Exactly!" The huntress interrupted his tirade. "You chose us. Now you have to live with the consequences of your choices."

"I am," Mikael replied. Far from being angry, he looked desperate. He almost begged her to understand him. "I would love to fall in love with you all. To spend eternity travelling with you by my side. But I can't. Every second you are with me is a joy and torture. A constant reminder. My only hope is to drop you all off so you can live a happy life and never see you again. It is not fair to you, I never claimed it would be, but it is my only hope at this point."

"Then why all this?" Glynda waved a hand between the pair and then around the scenery. "Why spend so much time with us? Why be nice to us and do everything you can to make our lives easier? You work with Medea to get materials to make us stronger. You taught us that we could use Aura and Haki. I know you've pushed Emma and Raven to be more sociable. You can't claim to not like us when every action you take is in direct opposition to your words."

"I never said I do not like you all," Mikael sagged in despondency, and Glynda's gut clenched at the pitiful sight. "Just that I can't fall in love with you. I still want what's best for you, and it costs me nothing to help."

"Then why do you not push us away? Many in your place would have taken action to make us hate them to ease their guilt."

"I've always said I wasn't one of those emo edge lords." A sad smile played on his face as he looked up at her, and Glynda realized she had stood up at some point in their argument. "I'm selfish. I enjoy good company when I can get it. I tried that whole walking away thing in Dark Souls 1, and it barely worked. Some of you started developing feelings, no matter what I warned you about. When I chose a bunch of headstrong women, I knew we would disagree about some things. I deliberately decided not to exert any form of control. That is the thing about Freedom. It is not Freedom from consequences. It is knowing the consequences of your actions and choosing to make the decision anyway because the opposite is worse."

Glynda did not know how to respond to his sad face, not trusting herself to not say something to make it worse. When the grey portal opened after a few moments of silence, she stepped through it, wiping her tears as she did.
 
Isolation 4
For still, there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

********

Artoria's day began, as always, at 6 am sharp.

She woke up as the sun rose. Long years of ingrained habit had not waned even on a utopian Island. Though seasons were still present with the jewel, they did not change the time the sun rose and set, 6am and 8pm, respectively. Five months into their imprisonment, the refreshing spring winds had been replaced with the summer heat. While the temperatures never reached uncomfortable levels, it still encouraged many women to spend time at the beach or in the pool.

Artoria had plans to do just that this afternoon. Today was a rest day; the group's training took a break to unwind. The King of knights was to be summoned in the evening slot, so she had the rest of the day to do as she pleased.

Since it was a rest day, she only spent two hours practicing her forms and training with Haki.

Laxity was the enemy, after all.

She spent the following hour caring for Dun Stallion and Sir Yvain's lion to unwind. While both were magical constructs, much like herself, they enjoyed the physical aspects of being summoned. So she fed them and brushed them, to their great pleasure.

Artoria then joined the other women for breakfast around 9. Meals were always lively, with various women coming down at different times. Medea had taken cooking duties upon herself to ensure everyone got the supplements they needed to keep progressing in their Tiers.

Sometimes Artoria worried that the greek witch was working too hard. She always seemed to have multiple projects and hobbies running simultaneously. Not counting Medea's recent help with The Plan. Only the ever-present smile on the elfin woman's face stopped the King from bringing up the subject. Compared to the Island's early days, she looked much happier.

While at breakfast, Artoria checked with Diana about her most recent summoning since she had the morning slot. Her habit was asking after Sir Mikael to make sure he was never too vexed in his quest. Her heart still clenched at his situation whenever she pondered it. To her, they had spoken only two and a half days ago. To him, it had been almost a year.

Diana reported that Sir Mikael seemed in high spirits. This portion of his quest was nearing completion. He hoped to fell the last enemy within a fortnight on their end. Three and a half years to go then.

Artoria could not wait for his quest to come to a successful end. Even her knights, who left Camelot on long quests, were never gone longer than a few months. The Isles were never so long to navigate for all their problems during her reign.

After a hearty meal, only twelve servings since it was breakfast, Artoria set off upon Dun Stallion to explore the Island with the lion by her side.

The group had mapped the Island early on in their incarceration. Upon discovery of the 'Creature Feature,' Artoria had taken to journeying across the land in search of any new beast or territory. The Island not only summoned foes that Sir Mikael had encountered in his quest but adapted the environment to match them. Last week, the King of Knights had discovered a volcano teeming with salamanders.

King Arthur enjoyed these hours of calm exploration. They reminded her of simpler times before everything fell apart. Camelot would hear tell of a strange beast or errant Knight, and she would organize a Hunt with her knights.

Sir Agravain would try to keep everything on track but spend most of his time corraling the others. Sir Gaheris would wrestle his brother, Sir Gawain, away from cooking duty. Sir Lancelot and Sir Tristan would find the nearest village and seduce some lonely women, only to be chased out of town by their husbands in the morning. Merlin would be in the middle, stirring up trouble while Cath Palug and Sir Bedivere either cleaned up the mess or struck down the mage.

Sir Mordred would argue with Sir Galahad over the former's recklessness or impropriety. Sir Percival or Sir Palamedes would be focused on the actual quest, inquiring for details from the passers-by. Kay would laugh through it all, never taking things seriously for a moment, teasing her relentlessly.

Artoria missed those days.

Before Sir Lancelot's betrayal. Before Sir Mordred's rebellion. Before Camelot fell and her knights died. Before Camlann. Before her ineptitude had doomed her friends and confidants.

She saw the shadows of their faces sometimes.

Kay's laughter in Yoruichi. Gawain's steadfastness in Diana. Agravain's dependability in Medea. The nurturing care of Gaheris in Tsunade's eyes.

But they weren't her knights.

Artoria did not know what to call what they had on this Island. They were all friendly enough, though some were closer than others. Robin remained helpful, though distant and kept her thoughts to herself. Raven was incredibly anti-social and stayed in her room most of the time. Emma was getting better, more willing to engage with the others. Before, she went out of her way to avoid them.

The rest spent most of their time together. Playing, laughing, watching shows, and sometimes just spending hours on end talking. They all had lived full lives, gone on their own adventures, and gone through tragedies and victories. Artoria had come to care for each of them as friends and companions.

The Knight flushed red as she remembered Medea's explanation of how some of their relationships were not as platonic as she had imagined. Looking back, it was a bit obvious. The lingering touches and the subtle looks. The way Tsuande and Yoruichi would curl up together on a couch or how Scathach and Glynda would arrive at breakfast simultaneously. She would be lying if she said that the idea wasn't exciting or... titillating.

For now, however, her heart remained set on Sir Mikael. This courtship was very important for their future relationship, convincing him of the folly of leaving her behind. Artoria, with Medea's aid, had already negotiated a settlement with the other Island women interested in their summoner. Diana, a dear friend, had agreed to help quickly, even if she wasn't interested in Mikael herself. Scathach, Glynda and Yoruichi had gotten on board as well. They all agreed a concentrated effort would be needed to break down his defences, even if the following relationship would be non-exclusive.

None of this would have been possible without Medea. Artoria owed a lot to the witch and tried to find ways to repay her debt.

Her blush deepened as she thought of ways to 'repay' the beautiful woman. But, the Knight shook her head at the thought. So far, Medea had shown no interest in romance while on the Island. Just because the greek had admitted her culture's acceptance of bisexuality did not mean the Artoria could presume Medea's interest in her.

Returning from her wandering thoughts, the King of Knights took stock of her surroundings. Dun Stallion, the wise beast he was, had taken them westward while avoiding both contaminated areas as they followed the coast. Artoria had explored the poisonous swamp and gas-filled mine exactly once before deciding to never venture there again.

It would have been quicker to fly, but details were often lost from the air. For example, the entrance to the labyrinthine tunnels under the mountains was only visible from the ground. Besides, she was in no rush. This was a day off, after all.

The following hours were spent wandering the countryside. Artoria found no new discoveries, though she did hunt a few crystal lizards she spotted for Medea to study. These were red rather than the usual blue. Of course, the knightess was back at the mansion in time for lunch.

During the meal, the topic had turned to their home worlds and whether or not they intended to return.

"Servants are already dead," Medea explained to the group sitting around the table. "The three of us do not have anything to go back to. Mikael could still find worlds during our periods, but they wouldn't be the same. the Second True Magic can fake it well, but it is not the Fifth."

"I, on the other hand, fully intend to return," Emma said. "I have a school to run. I shudder to imagine how the others have set things up in my absence."

"God forbid they do something right," Yoruichi snarked at the diamond blonde good-naturedly. "I'll probably touch base with a few friends, make sure Kisuke hasn't destroyed anything, Soul Society is still standing, and my Little Bee is all set before returning to the Island. Galavanting around worlds sounds much better than dealing with paperwork because they want me to be a captain again. Or, god forbid, a noble."

"Some of us take our jobs seriously, you cat," Emma responded archly. Yoruichi, the picture of maturity, stuck out her tongue in response.

"I suppose it would depend," Diana chimed in before the argument could escalate. "Raven and I were summoned at an inopportune time. While it did save our lives, we have no idea of the state of things. More than likely, when we return, we will be needed for reconstruction efforts." The hooded woman nodded her agreement but kept focusing on the meal.

"What was the nature of your foe?" Artoria couldn't help but ask.

"We were facing an army of Shadow Demons. They marched for a being called the 'Anti-Monitor' or some such. To be honest, we never saw the leader. I hope others of the League managed to hold out, but the earth had sustained heavy damages by the time we fell."

"My condolences," Artoria bowed her head towards her friend. "If you wish, once we have convinced Mikael to remain, I would be willing to aid in your reconstruction efforts. While my prowess is suited to the battlefield, any help I can provide is at your disposal."

"I appreciate it," Wonder Woman smiled softly at King Arthur, placing her hand over Artoria's and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I do not know if time passes differently between my world and here. It could be months since we left, or it could be decades like Mikael's experiences. I only fear that our return will be too late to be of any help."

"Hm," Robin made a quiet noise of contemplation on the side as she watched on. When a few eyes turned to her, she smiled and shook her head. "Do not mind me. Just had an errant thought."

Artoria may not have been able to read minds like Emma, but she had good instincts. Those same instincts warned her that whatever errant thought had crossed Robin's had been important in some way. More than that, judging by the brittleness of her smile and the slight shaking of her cup of tea, it had not been a pleasant thought.

Casting a subtle eye towards the White Queen, Artoria noted that she hadn't reacted, which calmed her somewhat. Emma was good at hiding her expressions, but she had her tells. On the other hand, Raven had flinched and was staring at Robin. Her face was, as usual, expressionless, but there was an intensity to her gaze.

"And how about you," the cambion asked the pirate. "Any plans for when you get back?"

"I suppose it would depend on the situation there," Robin idly ran a finger around the rim of her cup as she stared into the distance in thought. "I still have to achieve a few things, which I can only do there. I want to see my crew again, make sure they are all safe and help them with their own dreams that hadn't been accomplished yet."

"You will visit, will you not," Priscila asked. Until then, she had been explaining the healing Miracles of her world to Tsunade. Now she stared at Nico Robin in hope. The pirate looked surprised at the question as if she couldn't understand. "I will miss you all, but you can all visit by summoning a portal."

"Certainly," she answered softly after a moment. "If for nothing else than the library. If you would like to visit, I'm sure many of my crew would love to meet you, I'm sure. Though feel free to ignore any inappropriate questions from my captain, musician, or cook."

"Inappropriate how?" Glynda asked. The blonde teacher had taken it upon herself to instruct the crossbreed in various subjects and was very matronly with the girl.

"Sanji would flirt heavily," the pirate listed things on her fingers as if going through a checklist. "Luffy would ask you if you poop. Brook would ask to see your panties. The others would all think you the coolest. Yamato, in particular, would probably idolize you."

"You've told me about your crewmates before," Tsunade said thoughtfully. "I never gave it any thought, but meeting them would be nice if we could travel to each other. I would love to ask your doctor, Chopper, I believe he was called, about his herbal concoctions."

"I'm sure he would love that," Robin said warmly before turning to Artoria, who had just finished her fifteenth serving and smirking playfully at her. "How about you, Your Majesty? Over half of the women here have claimed your legend to be the most well-known in their world. I've read a few books on the subject as well. Any of the famous Knights of the Round Table I would like to meet?"

"If we find a world in which my Knights remain, then there are few things to keep in mind." Artoria set down her bowl of rice, looking around the room to ensure everyone was listening. This was important. "Sir Agravain hates women due to his mother, so it would be best to steer clear of him. Sir Galahad can be a problematic sort to talk with. In particular, Emma, Medea and Robin should avoid him, but the rest should have no issues. Kay might be a bit lackadaisical, but he is good-natured, and Yoruichi will find his company enjoyable. Sir Gareth is a delight to be around. Out of my knights, they and Sir Bedivere would be the ones I recommend talking to.

"Those are the least troublesome. Let me tell you why you should steer clear of Sir Gawain, Sir Lancelot, Sir Tristan, and the rest. Medea, Scathach, Tsunade, and Emma. This is particularly important for you."

"Why us?" Emma looked morbidly curious as she asked the question.

"You have been married or widowed in some manner," Artoria answered handily.

The following was half an hour of lectures on how to survive the Knights of the Round as a beautiful woman. Her audience listened to her in awed silence, only asking the occasional question. (Such as why all her knights ended up cross-dressing at some point)

"Finally," Artoria ended her lesson gravely. If they learned nothing else from her words, let them remember this. "No matter what, never engage with Merlin. Do not talk to him; certainly do not listen to his advice. Do not accept anything from him, definitely not food or drink. And if nothing else, never ever be alone with him!"

There was a moment of silence as her companions digested her teachings. Artoria used this moment to sit back down and resume her meal. It was cold by this point but still good. Besides, she had worked up an appetite.

"Artoria," Medea finaly spoke. "You know you are my friend, and I love you to bits but, and I mean this in the nicest possible way; your knights were all insane!" There were nods around the table and various sounds of agreement. Artoria herself nodded in support.

Good. They had been listening.

*******

Artoria subtly adjusted her outfit. Medea insisted on it, claiming it would 'knock his socks off.' While a part of her enjoyed the chance to wear something like this and 'let her hair down,' another part worried about what kind of image she was showing Sir Mikael.

He would not think her too loose a woman, would he?

She was lucky that he was not looking at her when she was summoned; he was staring out of the cave they were in. His feet dangled as he sat upon a ledge, and his hands rested on a long wooden box. She had a few moments to gather her courage, stepping closer to stand by his side. Like usual, the sights he displayed took her breath away.

The cave entrance was high on a cliff, a narrow pathway led upwards, but that did not hold her attention. Neither did the fantastic view of the sky. They were high enough that they were over the clouds and the horizon, bathed in gold, stretched on for eternity.

What held her attention were the drakes.

Hundreds of them.

The mountains of the Island now played home to their fair share of the winged reptiles, but they were of a different breed. Blue, instead of red. They breathed lightning rather than fire. And there were only half a dozen at any one time. Nothing like the magnificent display before her eyes.

Artoria watched, enraptured as a flock (Flock? Hoard? Murder? What did one call a group of drakes anyway?) of the red creatures, twenty strong, crashed into another. The battle was fierce, with blood, scales, and bodies raining from the sky. Neither side won. They were ambushed by a larger group of beasts swooping down from above.

Two more drakes flew side by side, a trio of tiny little fledgelings flapping desperately to keep pace with their parents.

In the distance, a drake the size of the Hellkite somersaulted in the air before diving beneath the clouds. Roars and cries filled the skies in a cacophonous din that shook her body with the sounds.

"Did I ever tell you why I chose the Dragon Heritage from the catalogue?" Sir Mikael suddenly asked. He continued to watch the skies. Artoria would have been a bit put out by it if not for the fact she was enraptured as he was.

"Not me personally, though I have heard from the others that it was due to the ability to travel between worlds it afforded."

"I didn't lie," he explained. "You see, there were other ways to travel between worlds. One of them, 'Trajectory. Agreement.' I believe it was called, would give me even better control than Dragon Break. I chose to 'Be The Dragon' despite it being inefficient becau- hrk."

So lost in the wonder of the view was she that the King of Knights hadn't noticed Sir Mikael turn towards her as he talked. His words had caught in his throat as he caught sight of her outfit. Artoria flushed in embarrassment but still stuck out her chest proudly as Medea had instructed. She had been insistent that the bunny suit would grab his attention.

The hungry look that dwelled in Sir Mikael's eyes as he stared at her form led the King to reaffirm that Medea's advice bore fruit once more.

He stared at her in awed silence for over ten seconds, his mouth gaping open. She fought not to fidget. She enjoyed the outfit, the ears in particular, but now that she was aware of her romantic intentions with Sir Mikael, it added a new feeling. A fluttering in her stomach. A desire to flaunt her body in a wholly new way.

"That is an... interesting outfit," he finally choked out. After a few more seconds of staring, he mastered himself enough to look away. Artoria would have felt disappointed had she not noticed the occasional glances he sent her way.

"Medea has been kind enough to aid me with my wardrobe." Though she was still flushed in embarrassment and joy, Artoria said the words calmly. "I cannot wear my armour at all times, and the mansions provisions are nice but bare. I admit, she has some rather outlandish ideas, but I have enjoyed more than a few. Do you... like it?" Her calm facade practically fell apart near the end, and she almost whispered the question.

"I do! I really do!" He nodded his head vigorously in answer before calming once more. "But you should be careful. I don't think Medea intends any harm, but she can be tricky." Artoria narrowed her eyes at the man. She knew the seige on his heart would not be won easily, but she hadn't expected him to try and sow dissension in the ranks. Not that she would fall for it, particularly with her trusted advisor. Medea was so much better than Merlin ever was.

"Let me worry about that. You were telling me why you wished to be a dragon?"

"Right, got a bit sidetracked there," he muttered to himself. "I suppose it all started with a dream. A bit silly in hindsight, how much one dream decades ago could fundamentally shape who I was."

"If I learned nothing else from Merlin, it is that dreams can be mighty."

"Who am I to argue with Merlin," he said sardonically before continuing. "It was a silly dream. I was eleven, I think, and had just finished reading one of the Harry Potter books. If you aren't familiar, I'm sure the library at the mansion has them and the films. Despite my many problems with them and their author, it was an incredible story to me as a child. To make a long story short, people could fly using broomsticks as mounts in the books."

"Broomsticks?" She couldn't help but ask incredulously. "But they are so thin? How is one supposed to maintain a proper riding position?"

"Trust me, that was one of the books' most minor problems. But anyway, I finish the book and go to bed. I imagine millions of children had a similar dream of flying broomsticks. I wasn't playing quidditch, the sport they played in the books. I was just flying. It was a nice dream. But then the broom disappeared from under me. I panic for a moment, vertigo taking over as I start to fall. If I had woken up at that point, I probably would have been a completely different person today.

"But I didn't wake up. As I fell, I started to fly with nothing below me nor above, just me and the sky. The rest of the dream is blurry. I do not know how long I flew, what sights I saw or even if I ever stopped. I remember two things. Waking up crying, whether in joy or sadness, I do not remember. And I remember that feeling. That pure, wonderful, exhilarating feeling of freedom." Sir Mikael no longer turned to look at her outfit. He stared enraptured at the beautiful dance of dragons in the sky. Artoria could identify that look in his eyes. Jealousy. Envy. A longing that consumes a man and drives him to madness.

She smiled, happy that he trusted her enough to confide such a personal moment of his life to her.

"I've been chasing that feeling my entire life," he admitted. "I've taken up skating, skiing, boating, gliding, and any other activity that could give me the craving I sought. The closest I've come to is boating during a storm at sea. The Waifu Catalogue, for all that it is designed with romance and sex in mind, drew me to the dragon aspect. It is inherently a wish-fulfillment idea. Don't get me wrong, the chance to fall in love with any of you is more than most could hope for. But the ability to fly under my own power? That was what pushed me to write that original story."

"But you are trapped," Artoria said somberly. Every day the women learned more about how terrible Sir Mikael's circumstances truly were.

"Yep," though he said the word in a chipper tone, his voice was wet with emotions. "I know there is a body out there, MY body, that has everything I could ever want. It is just floating in space while I am trapped on the ground. This place, this Dragon Aerie, stirred me up something fierce. If you trust nothing else, trust me on this." Sir Mikael stared at her, eyes not drifting below her own. He didn't look sad. He looked angry. "I will beat this world. No matter what it takes, I will get that body. I will fly!"

He stood suddenly. Standing up, he towered over Artoria by more than a few inches. She wasn't startled. She had sensed their interloper as soon as he did.

A drake, not of a size with the Hellkite beast she felled but large nonetheless, had spotted Sir Mikael. It was hundreds of meters above their position, and was diving at him fast.

Calmly and with a focus the King of Knights would be proud of, Sir Mikael removed his bow from his back. It was a simple longbow similar to the ones of her homeland. He notched an arrow from his quiver, its head crackling with lightning, and took aim.

A moment of stillness overcame the man as he held his breath.

In a flash, he released the bolt and his breath at once.

With her abilities, Artoria was able to follow the missile easily. Though it travelled hundreds of meters instantly, she saw clearly as it met its target. At the moment between wing flaps, the bolt lodged itself in the drake's yellow eye. It cried out in pain as it tumbled from the sky, falling from view as it disappeared beneath the clouds.

"A fine shot," Artoria praised. "Sir Tristan would be envious of it."

"It wasn't that impressive," he denied as he retook his seat beside her. Far from acting humble, Artoria realized he genuinely considered that skill to be 'nothing.' "With Martial Talent and decades of practice, even if bows aren't my main tool, anybody will get good."

"Maybe," she doubted that was the case, but that wasn't the critical point. "Even so, the effort you put in and the skill you now have are not to be denied. If others decry that 'I could do the same if I had talent,' then let them look on in their envy. None of it should affect those who rise by their own merits. Talent and effort are two different things."

"Dealt with people like that a lot?" Sir Mikael asked curiously.

"More than I care to admit. More than once, I had knights apply for a seat at my table. When met with failure of some sort, they were quick to cry injustice at my ruling." While Artoria could not match the personal moment he shared earlier, she was happy to regale him with tales of her time at Camelot.

The following few hours were spent trading stories back and forth. Artoria would tell him of her knights and their misadventures, and Sir Mikael would speak of various ways they were portrayed in his world. While she had learned much from television and movies, their presence in games was new to her.

As Artoria opened the portal to return to the Island, she was stopped by her Knight's words.

"Just a moment," he said before she could step through. "I want to try something."

"Another test?" She asked in surprise. The fact that he was still attempting to find a loophole to his isolation was commendable. He hadn't given up after everything had fallen and decades had passed.

"Somewhat," he said as he slowly and carefully slid the box that had sat beside him closer to the gray portal. It was as long as he was tall, twice as thick, and made from weathered boards. This wasn't one of the bottomless ones he had shown before. He was careful not to jostle it. Once it was almost pressed against the rippling surface, he stopped and grinned at her. "You wanna see something cool?" He removed the lid.

Nestled inside, held softly in mounds of straw and cloth, were four massive eggs.

"Are those?" Artoria asked breathlessly.

"They are," he grinned at her expression. "I know living creatures cannot go through the portal, but dead bodies can. I hope these eggs do not count as completely alive just yet. Two are for Medea, for her studies, but the other two are for you. I understand Camelot had something of a menagerie, but I do not think you ever got the chance to raise some drakes." He replaced the lid and carefully slid the box through the portal. It went in without issue. "I guess that answers that question."

If Artoria could, she would kiss the man right now.

She had to settle for staring at him with the same intensity he had when he first saw her in her bunny suit.

*******

Only a few things to say about this one. We learn more about Mikael and what drives him as well as a bit of setup for plot points in the main story. I hope I have conveyed that, far from being downtrodden by his circumstances, Mikael has never given up on finding ways around his situation. Does his situation suck? Definitely, but he hasn't given up hope. He is inherently optimistic.

BTW Arthurian mythologies are so weird. I went down a huge rabbit hole, both Fate and History based, for this chapter and got sucked into the mythos. One of these days I will need to do an Omake about the Knights of the Round, just for the nyuks of it.
 
Isolation 5
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

******

"There is something wrong with you."

Robin's voice cut through Emma's mental wandering, bringing her focus back to her body. The mutant had set herself up in her favourite chair overlooking the beach from the cliff. It also provided the best view of the Dragon beyond. After a long day of practicing, she treated herself to a nice tumbler of Louis XIII. Cognac wasn't her favourite drink in the world, but she had only sipped it once when she was young and stole it from her father.

It was her personal mission to go through and sample a little of each of the mansion's considerable booze selection. It was almost tradition by this point. She would take her seat with a different drink each day. She would watch the sunset and then spend a bit of time persuing the minds of the other women on the Island. Nothing intrusive, but a daily check-up for anything of note.

"Excuse me?" Emma asked archly. The pirate had taken a seat on another of the soft chairs, her drink in hand. Coffee, not booze. Not for the first time, the White Queen wished she could read the brunette's thoughts.

As soon as Robin knew a psychic was in their midsts, she spent considerable effort learning how to block casual intrusions. With Mental Talent, it had taken a few weeks rather than years. Unless Emma was willing to put her full force of effort into battering down those defences, Robin's inner mind would remain hidden. She wasn't perfect, occasional errant thoughts slipped through, but she was one of four people on the Island who weren't open books to the White Queen.

"You heard me. There is something wrong with you." Far from sounding accusatory or insulting, the pirate sounded worried.

"In what manner?" Emma kept her voice level in feigned casualness. What had the observant woman discovered?

"Like you," Robin nodded to the blonde in acknowledgment. "I've kept my eyes on the others. Not when they needed privacy, of course."

"Of course." Tacit agreement passed between each woman for a moment before the Strawhat continued.

"And some things you've said and done do not line up. You've claimed on multiple occasions that Mikael is mad or dangerous, but if that were true, you would not be able to tell us about it."

"I can't say anything about what I saw in his head," Emma clarified. "If I draw conclusions and put facts together using information externally obtained, I can say that. If I talk to him about subjects aloud, the restriction no longer applies."

"That's true and very clever of you," the brunette nodded to the point. "But that is not all. Artoria told us about her knights a few weeks ago during lunch. I had an idea. When I let the thought slip on purpose, you didn't react. Though you said you would be going back to teaching, not once have you ever made mention of it over the last month. Then I remembered you talked about a husband. Only you mentioned him in the past tense. Over the last few weeks, I've been doing independent verification just to be sure. Before their summoning, all the others, every single one, were in a situation that could lead to the end of their world."

For a moment, only a moment, Emma considered wiping Robin's mind. It was an errant thought but one that was, theoretically, possible. The mutant took pride in her high Tier. At 8, she was tied with a few other women but was only surpassed by Diana. In contrast, Robin was at the bottom, initially a 4 before being summoned and raised to 5. By this point, with the regular infusions of Mikael's blood at every meal, she was already Tier 6. Still two below Emma.

Unfortunately, while possible, it wasn't certain. It would be a race between whether the mutant could batter down the defences of Robin's mind or the pirate could sense it in time to snape her neck. Emma wouldn't stay dead, but the three days it took to reform would be long enough for the pirate to turn the other inhabitant against her.

More than that, Robin was Chosen.

The thought of harming her directly turned Emma's stomach. If Mikael ever found out... Just the idea was enough to make the mutant nauseous. So instead, Emma decided to be truthful. Maybe she could even spin this into a boon.

"You guessed right," the blonde responded seriously, her voice grave. "I had already put the pieces together."

"Then there is nothing left? Nobody left?" Robin asked sadly. Judging by the mist in her eyes, she already knew the answer.

"I'm afraid not," Emma shook her head in denial of that small hope. "We all come from 'Dead Ends.' None of us have anything to go back to. In some way or another, all our worlds have disappeared."

"I suppose I already knew," though Robin was crying, Emma was surprised to see her start to smile. It looked more like a grimace to the blonde. "Dereshishishishishishi. Dereshishishishishishi."

The brunette laughed as tears ran down her cheeks and hugged her legs to her chest. For minutes, the laughing/crying continued. Once it started to die down, Emma wordlessly poured some of the cognac into another tumbler and slid it across the table to Robin. The pirate downed the drink, and when the blonde poured another, she also swallowed that one. It was only on the third pour that she sipped.

"Sorry about that." Her eyes were red and wet, her chest still heaved with sobs, and the hand holding the glass was shaky. Robin was back in control, though. "I will take time to properly mourn them later. I still have some other questions, if you don't mind?"

"Sure," she agreed softly.

"Does Mikael know?"

"He doesn't. He does about Glynda and the servants, but I kept it from him once I realized the full scope. He suspected something for a bit, but Scathach threw him off course. Mikael sincerely believes that dropping us off in our worlds would make us the happiest in the long run. He convinced himself of it." Emma stressed the word 'convinced,' trying to get the point across. "He was looking forward to visiting your world in particular."

"More work around from external factors?" Robin asked, and Emma nodded. "So what exactly happened? Can you tell me how you know?"

"I can't say anything of what I saw in his mind." Not that she would. The memory still sent shivers down the mutant's spine and butterflies into her stomach. "The others, however, have been pretty open about their circumstances. Everyone either was dying or dead when summoned. Scathach was the only exception, and when she explained her circumstances, it threw him off the scent."

"What was different about her?"

"She didn't need to die for her world to end," Emma explained, falling into old habits. "Scathach exists in a perpetual 'what if' scenario. For a Servant to be summonable, they need to be dead. She never died. But she is here, which means she has to be dead. I am not as familiar with magic as others, but I've had dealings with it in the past. I think it is because she is a 'Lord of Spirits.' Magic loves that kind of ambiguity. The only times she has been summoned for their 'Grail Wars' were when the world had ended already, or magic had completely dried up. Since she doesn't remember magic drying up, the former is more likely. Mikael thinks she came from a timeline like the latter."

"So we are all undead then?" There was a sardonic smile on the brunette's face. "I can appreciate the irony of it. But this means something else. Are you able to talk about Patrons?"

"I can," Emma nodded, glad to have someone intelligent to converse with. Too many fools were given all the needed information but could not piece it together. "Mikael told me about it a few times when I prompted him. I know pretty much everything about the catalogue that he does."

"Death, then?"

"Almost certainly. Mikael casually mentioned that he never chose a patron since he didn't see the point for a short story." Emma gestured to the Island around them. "But his choices do not line up with reality. We have to assume that changes were not just limited to the Island, but other aspects as well."

"So 'Death,' or whatever they are, are behind all this? For what?"

"Who knows?" Emma replied airily. "That is beside the point. You cannot tell Mikael."

"Why not? It should end his insistence on dropping us all off to go galavanting across the multiverse."

"I cannot say." At Robin's disbelieving look, Emma continued to insist. "I really can't. I can get around his Command by getting him to talk about things out loud, but he refuses to talk about some things. I can only tell you that, while his elements play a big part in his reasoning, they are not the issue's core. I can only tell you that the idea that we can be, and will be, happy without him is important. If he knew that Death was his patron, he would come to some conclusions that would jeopardize us all. When I'm summoned tonight, I will try and get him to speak on the subject so I can explain to everyone tomorrow."

"Then explain one final point to me." The pirate's eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "What were his actual commands? For all his prickly outside, he is smart. His first order wouldn't have been something as vague and unhelpful as 'regain your sanity.' He wouldn't know a loss of sanity was the problem. On top of that, he would hate controlling your mind directly like that. More than that, it takes one command seal to heal a servant completely. Two if you want them back in fighting shape. Three if you want to be on the safe side, but there would be no reason to use all four for that Command."

Emma couldn't help but blush at the memory. It hadn't been her proudest moment. She didn't regret it, but she regretted her naivety. The Emma of back then, the one only recently summoned to the Island, was a different person. That Emma had been a fool. It was a wonder at all that she was Chosen.

"His first order was to 'Forget everything you saw in my mind.' He figured memory loss was better than any mental manipulation since most people constantly lose and repress memories. No danger of personality death." Robin gave an actual chuckle at the thought, and Emma blushed further when she realized the pirate had pieced together the rest.

"Let me guess," the brunette teased. "Once you realized your memory was tampered with, rather than let Mikael explain, you dived right back into his mind to find out what had happened."

"He tried to stop me with another Command, but I had already gone deep enough. He then ordered me to 'Stay and not do anything' while placing the three orders you already know about. Since it was so specific, the stay order wore off after a few hours."

There was only one lie in there. Out of the six seals, none had been used to try and stop her second dive. Emma couldn't risk any other women finding out about the actual Command. Not if she wanted to keep Mikael's trust. Explaining why a Command like, 'Never order me again' was given would have tipped her hand. Until she was sure of their loyalty, she could not tell them of the power they held over him.

"That is all six," Robin nodded as she stood from her seat. She left her coffee but took the tumbler of alcohol. "That also explains why there is something wrong with you. One seal wasn't enough. You are still a little mad."

"What gave it away?" Emma couldn't help but ask as the pirate walked into the night on the path to the beach. She didn't need to read her mind to know she was going to the ocean to mourn her friends.

"I've known for months. I just didn't have anything specific to pin you down with until recently." The pirate looked back and gave the mutant a small, sad smile. "We were all worried for Mikael after he entered the Kiln, but you were the only one who looked ready to die with him."

"I could have been more worried since I knew more about the situation."

"True." The Strawhat turned towards the path once more. "But I had to ask myself; why would Emma Frost care that her jailor was in pain?"

For a moment, Emma was by herself again. She went over the conversation in her mind and decided it would be a boon for her plans in the long run. Only for a moment, however, as another voice stole her from her thoughts once more. Coincidentally it was another woman whose thoughts she couldn't here.

"She is right," Raven said in her monotonous tone. "One seal wasn't enough. You should ask Mikael to use another."

"I am happy how I am now. The old Emma is long dead. She is better for it. She wouldn't be able to handle the loss of control. If he were to use another seal, all it would do would kill me a replace me with a facsimile. That Emma would do all her power to unravel Mikael. And she would succeed." That old Emma would have told the other women about his condition.

"Unlike you?" Though the mutant couldn't see the Cambion, staring deep into her glass as she was, Emma still bristled at the tone of her voice. Standing up abruptly, the blonde started to make her way back into the mansion. Not without a parting shot, however. Though different, she was still Emma Frost.

"You don't get to judge me! Not when you are keeping the same secret. I noticed how you never mentioned Mikael's emotions during my little 'interrogation.' Very heroic of you, taking advantage of man's disabilities."

"Him loving us is not a disability."

"It is when he never got the choice!" Emma snarled as she turned the corner.

Raven's following words went ignored, even though Emma knew them to be true. After all, she was Chosen.

"I can at least recognize love when I see it... and fanaticism."

*******

"Alsanna intends to stay here," Emma reported. She reviewed her list one more time, ensuring everything and everyone was checked off. They had been teleporting around as Mikael used her for their final rounds. The mutant had also subtly brought up the topic she needed to explain the situation with Death to the Island's women. He was being very talkative, likely because Emma was the only one who knew his actual state of being. She would repay that trust. She wouldn't fail Mikael. Not now, not ever.

"She said as much, but I would rather have you check to be sure." The armoured man sat beside a bonfire, the only heat source in this frozen castle. "Is that the last of them?"

Memories of his time in this game flashed through his mind as he reviewed things.

"For this cycle," Emma nodded as she adjusted her glasses. Unlike the other women, she had direct insight into Mikael's tastes. Artoria had gotten a lucky guess in with the bunny costume. The entire outfit had been perfectly set up to appeal to him. But Emma knew persistence would be essential.

Whenever she was summoned, she had subtly different clothes. Nothing overt, a librarian-like look here, an office skirt with garter belt there, but enough to consistently remind the man of her feminity in a way he couldn't ignore. Taking the role of his 'secretary' and aiding him in ensuring the people of this world got what they deserved, for good or ill, had only made her temptations easier. He liked competent and helpful people. Bunny girls were temporary, but sexy teachers/librarians/secretaries were forever.

Like the others, she couldn't physically interact with the world, but her mental and sensing powers were still applicable. She couldn't influence anyone, but reading their minds and reporting to Mikael was well within her abilities. Her range, unaided by Cerebro, was still counted in miles, so she didn't even need to be near them and could stay by Mikael's side.

"You gave Lucatile the Ivory Crown. She intends to return to Mirrah now that she has completed her quest. She will abide by your words and not spread knowledge of it. Benhart has the Sunken Crown. He's not friendly enough to reveal it. Rosabeth has the Iron Crown and is happy to keep it a secret. Shanalotte has the King's Crown and will give it to who she wants. Right now, she has no candidates." Emma flipped the page on her pad, looking over her notes.

"I could probably give it to someone else but fuck 'em," Mikeal said casually. "Dark souls 2 had only a few supporting casts that I like."

"You reunited Lenigrast and Chloanne," Emma continued. "Shalquoir is all set. She has survived this long and won't face any issues. You freed the Milfanitos and brought them to Majula. Gavlan is wheeling and dealing. Tark has been accepted by the community as well. Vengarl is acting as the town defence with his new body. And you settled things between Creighton and Pate."

"What of Milibeth?"

"She intends to stay with the hags."

"Then we are all set on this end," Mikael said as he idly played with a flame in his palm. "How are things on the Island? How is Priscila?"

"She is fitting in," Emma began. "Your idea of joint training has done wonders to get her out of her room. Supposedly, one of the only reasons she stayed there was due to not liking having to shrink. Glynda has not only helped train her physically but has also started tutoring her."

"And the bite?" Mikeal looked worried, but she was quick to soothe it.

"No reaction. The mark is still there, but it hasn't affected her mind. My warnings early on did not lower her crush on you, but it seems to have diminished on its own. We cannot test the other aspects without you meeting her."

"That's good," he let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried I was Controlling her. I know I chose No Bindings, but better safe than sorry. My future will improve if I do not worry about biting people."

"And on your end?" Emma couldn't help but ask, though she knew he wouldn't want to talk about it. Mikael surprised her by shaking his head and speaking.

"Nothing so far. I always liked Priscila in the games, and the little time we spent together was nice, but that is it. I'm fond of her, but it is not overpowering like my emotions for you all. As you mentioned, we can't know for sure until I see her in person, but I am hopeful my condition is limited to you ten. How about the others? Anything I should know about?"

"I still cannot read Raven, Diana, Scathach, or Robin's minds," she reminded.

"That's fine. I just want to be sure everyone is OK."

'Worry, concern, protectiveness, love. Smiling faces, Glynda crying, Medea professing her love.'

Most people did not think in complete sentences at all times. If they were focusing on something, sure. But most of the time, thoughts came from feelings and abstract images that flittered around quickly. It was the mark of an excellent psychic how quickly and accurately they could parse through those confusing thoughts. Emma was one of the best psychics in her world.

"Robin just received some bad news," Emma was careful how she couched the report. It wouldn't do to arouse Mikael's suspicion. More than that, so long as the concern he showed was natural, the rage and madness wouldn't come. Over the last few months, Emma had become adept at directing his attention away from his foreign feelings. Imprisonment in a game world was frustrating. Imprisonment in his own mind, with his emotions as shackles? That was what truly drove him mad. "Turns out she hadn't realized the other Strawhat pirates had died before her. It was only after she asked me to help relive the last memories before summoning that we put the pieces together."

"Shit!" Mikael swore. He stood up and started to pace around the room, thoughts going miles a minute. Emma loved watching his thought process, at once precise and fast as it was jumbled. He wasn't Reed Richards or Tony Stark genius, but he was more intelligent than most of her students any day of the week. Teach him one thing, and he would grasp five even if he didn't learn ten more things.

This time his focus was on what this information meant regarding their summoning. He went through the catalogue in his mind. For a moment, Emma tensed as his thoughts lingered on the Patron setting, but he dismissed due to Scathach once more. Instead, his thoughts turned towards the 'used' section. He contemplated that the reason the build had so much extra stuff was due to getting the 'Waifu's' at a discount. Emma breathed a sigh of relief as Mikael decided to pursue that line of inquiry for now.

"Alright," he eventually said. "I want you to offer them your services as a psychologist. Don't force them. This is for their benefit in the long run, but couch it as an extension of Tsunade's check-ups. God knows many problems could be solved if characters just talked about their issues rather than repressing them. Get them to talk about what happened before their summoning if you can. Were they approached by anyone? Did they sign something? It would be best if they let you see their memories like Robin. Anything at all can be a hint we can potentially use."

"What about Robin?" Emma asked as she noted down his orders. She expected the other women would go for it if she explained it as becoming better friends and wanting to help out. It wouldn't even be a lie. They were all Chosen and would be spending an eternity together. Helping them with issues now would go a long way to making the unit more secure for the future.

"In your professional opinion," Mikael asked while he continued to pace. "Would it be better to delay facing Nishandra and Aldia? They are all that's left between me and the throne. I should be able to beat them before the next summoning, but if you think Robin needs my support, I will put it off. I do not know how long it will be before DS3 or if my plan will delay or hasten the time."

"Assuming it will be a week without contact, like last time?" She dreaded being out of contact for so long. The two and a half days between her summons were too much already. Still, it was a necessary sacrifice for the time when she could spend every moment by his side.

Emma gave the issue some real thought. There were upsides to both options. On the one hand, getting Robin to depend more on Mikael would be nice. On the other, having more time to ensure none of the women bring up 'Death' would be beneficial.

At the end of the day, like Mikael, she did want what was best for the other women. It was a shame that only a few of them had realized that Mikael was what was best. But they would learn like the others. Emma longed for the day she could drop the facade of the 'Ice Queen.' When Mikael no longer needed her as a spy and only wanted her as a woman. There would be a window between Mikael freeing them and finding worlds she was planning to exploit to break down his last resistance. Her plan so far, fostering romance between the women and loyalty to Mikeal, was going well, though a few still needed work. Until then, however, she would do as commanded.

"I think," she hesitated for a bit before firming up her decision. The mutant was very careful not to phrase it like an order, lest the seal try and restrain her. "I think it would be better to proceed with your plan. It should be easy at breakfast tomorrow to make the offer of counselling and word it so that Yoruichi and Tsunade know about Robin. They will be there for her while you do what you need to. How likely is it that you will be in a condition to receive her on the other end?"

"I give it fair odds," Mikael stopped pacing to stare at her. "You know as well as I that my condition drives me to take action, any action if it frees me and you all. I do not plan to link the fire again, but if I am not brought to Lothric after a while, I might go crazy enough to be pushed to link it anyway. I hope to find a worthy replacement before that, however. Worse comes to worst, I am not only used to the pain, but the fire has already faded to a considerable degree. It won't burn as intensely, nor as long, as it did after Gwyn."

"I wish you didn't have to risk it," the mutant admitted, letting her real feelings flow through for a bit. "Any chance you can still summon us after you walk away from the throne room?"

"I hope not, though it is possible. If I am not brought to Dark Souls 3 immediately, I will be waiting years. That would leave you all trapped for much longer than necessary. I managed to beat this game in two months on your end. I aim to get it even lower than that for the third instalment."

"I'm worried about your sense of time," Emma said. "I can see how you see it. Days and weeks pass by, and you hardly notice. You just fight and die, fight and die, over and over. It's all blurred together. Not counting those first few days or the time spent in the kiln, it's been over four hundred and fifty summonings. You've been at this for almost forty years."

"Shit, now that you put it that way. Did my virginity grow back? Can it do that?" He smiled playfully at her, but she didn't laugh. She didn't particularly like dark humour, but she could tolerate his jokes. So long as they weren't aimed at himself. "You don't have to worry, though. You've seen my mind. Yes, time here is blurring together. Nothing I can do about that. But my memories of home and freedom are crystal clear and never fade. I remember what I ate for dinner the day before I appeared in the cell. I can still feel the warmth of my cat. I still see the laughter of my friends as we went out drinking. I still feel the excitement and anticipation of playing Elden Ring when it comes out. These memories will never fade nor dull."

"You say that like it isn't part of the problem," Emma responded quietly. "A mind is not supposed to be so inflexible. It is meant to forget and move on. I would rather your memories blur rather than this perpetual longing."

"In this life, there are things we can't control and things we can." Mikael shrugged philosophically. "I can only control myself. I have the option to laugh at my situation or cry. I dislike crying. I'm bad at it. So I chose to stop and enjoy the good things I have. Does my situation suck? Big donkey balls. Are there upsides? Definitely. Even if I cannot return any of their feelings, it is nice to be desired by some of my favourite characters. By the time I am free, I will be a certified badass no matter where I go. Who else can claim to not only kill gods but have single-handedly saved and ended a world?"

"I can think of a half dozen people off the top of my head," Emma deadpanned.

"Oi! Don't compare me to comic book characters!" He playfully responded. "You all are nuts. I, on the other hand, am a picture of sanity."

"Clearly," Emma deadpanned again, though a smile curled her lip. "If nothing else, your skill at arms and sorcery would make you a viable threat."

"And?" Mikael asked pleadingly, wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis.

"And what?" Emma could see what he wanted in his mind, but she acted obliviously. He would have to order her to say it.

"Come on, say it. You know it's true." He urged.

"Fine," the mutant sighed dramatically. "And you are 'Da Dragon.'"

"Don't you forget it!" Emma really wanted to smack that adorably smug look off his face. He turned to unlatch the box on his belt and present it to her. She opened up the portal without him having to ask. He threw the box through the gray energy. "Now, this dragon has given you his hoard. I expect you to treat it with all due reverence."

"Anything in specific?" She asked, pulling up her notepad to jot down any orders.

"Same as last time," Mikael shrugged. "Keep the souls contained. I had a few turned into weapons from two different smiths for Medea to look over and possibly replicate their craft. You all can go through the rest and pick out anything you like."

"Alright," Emma finished writing, put her pad away and turned to step through the portal. She did say goodbye, however. "Good luck. I'll see you on the other end."

"Bitch please," Mikael responded as he put his helmet back on. "This dragon doesn't need luck. I am inevitable."
 
Interlude - Live How We Can
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

********

"Here is your Common Ground. Is there anything else I can get for you, ma'am?" The server asked. While the service was friendly and the food was good, she had only come to this Deli because she felt sentimental.

She had been one of the first patrons of this establishment when it opened. She used to only check on Mikael's progress every decade, but since its opening, she came around yearly.

"No, thank you," she said with a soft smile. The man blushed a bit but left quickly. He was a good kid, she knew. It was a shame that there were only two decades more before he would die in a mugging in Gotham. Still, everyone gets a lifetime. No more. No less.

Besides, he had it better than the poor chef. Next tuesday, she will be in a hostage situation. Most would survive, but she would take a bullet as an example before Dragon would deal with the situation.

As relaxed as she was, Death was still at work. She was there when every life was born. She was there when they took their last breath.

The Thanagarians clashed with the Shi'ar, and billions of souls were instantly lost. Galactus had just consumed a world, and the Pheonix Force was on its way to another. Apokolips stood on the precipice of another invasion.

On this planet alone, millions die every second. There would be a spike in a week as Behemoth ransacked Stockholm. It would be pushed off quickly by the combined forces of the Justice League, Avengers, and other heroes, but not before ending the lives of 12,484 intelligent beings.

And this was but one reality of countless others Death oversaw.

She knew that somewhere out there, there were multiverses where she was but one of the Endless.

Here, she was alone.

Sipping her drink, Death looked out over the Rocky Mountains. The torrential rain did not impede her view of the natural wonders. She had been there when they were first formed, carved from the glacial movements of ice over millions of years. She would be here when they were ground to foothills by the passages of the wind.

The Beginning was beautiful, a spark of possibilities.

The Middle was chaotic, those possibilities slamming into each other to tell a unique story.

The End was Her.

Right now, however, Death sipped her drink as she stared past the pouring rain, the massive mountains, and the sky. She looked beyond the Solar System, the Milkyway, and beyond time and space. She stared at a titanic white dragon clutching a jewel to its chest as it slumbered.

The island contained within the jewel was still growing and evolving, as were the women inside. Even as the Dragon slept, it protected the jewel. The ravages of the years barely lingered on the island for a moment before power swept them away. The Company's Deal tried to take its toll, but the Dragon bore the brunt.

Death smiled. Even subconsciously, Mikael protected what was His. She had chosen well. He wasn't afraid of the consequences of his actions.

Death looked sideways to the past and future, looking beyond the Dragon and the jewel. Linear time was nothing to one such as her. Had it been anyone else but her champion, Death would have only needed to check on him once to know all possible outcomes. As a dragon of Freedom, he wasn't bound to Fate and Death was constantly worried he would deviate early in his life. It would jeopardize everything she hoped for him.

For now, things were still on track.

Mikael stood triumphant over the bodies of Aldia and Nashandra. He hadn't fallen to either of them a single time in their fights. He watched as golems opened the path to the Throne.

He turned to walk away.

Death sighed. Mikael, for all his cleverness and guile, was missing critical information. She would be able to clear it up once he was free, but until then, he was operating on erroneous assumptions. Some of his guesses were correct, but many were not.

He did not know of the Deal. He did not know of Her. He assumed his shackles were of the Mind, Heart, and World.

They were not.

His restraints were of Will, Power, and Time. He believed that the women were not Bound to him, but he was Bound to them. He went to great lengths to make sure they never found out. It only fueled Mikael's desperation to get rid of them before they started ordering him and changing him further.

He was right, but only so long as he was trapped. He did not understand that they only controlled his Avatar. One of the critical points Death had argued for.

The Company rep had caved once it was pointed out that a dragon of Freedom was useless if it was constantly chained by its companion. His body was Free.

Death had negotiated fiercely to stack the odds in his favour. Had he all the information, Mikael would have broken free in his first World. But the free flow of information was one of the things she had to give up to purchase his service at a reasonable price. So long as his punishment was ongoing, at least.

The Company took a dim view of those who tried to cheat them.

As it was, rather than reaching Freedom after one World, it would take five for him to piece things together. Better than the alternative, the Company rep had wanted to order the worlds so that he would have been trapped for a few dozen. That had been one of the points Death had won, though it cost her.

As Mikeal walked away from the Throne of Want, Death surreptitiously took the souls of his foes. He would want them later, once his witch learned to craft souls into arms.

Death waived down a waiter for a refill as she watched Mikeal leave Drangleic entirely. He was partially in search of a replacement, partially sightseeing. As an undead, Mikael felt no joy in taste, smell, or touch. He hungered but could not eat. He lusted but could not feel pleasure. But his intellectual curiosity pushed him onward. He travelled to faraway lands, hiding his curse. He attended schools, talked to theologians, and sought out famous champions.

The fire continued to fade, as it ever would. It wouldn't go out until the end of the World. Such was the nature of Gwyn's machinations.

The undead curse spread far and wide. Great warriors flocked to Drangleic, seeking to kindle it. They found a town of misfits, well guarded, to serve as a hub. More than a few would find their way to the Throne and serve themselves up to the fire.

It wouldn't be enough.

Their souls burned too quickly, unable to last for more than a year. They were not champions who had overcome gods and demons. They were men, strong men, but men nonetheless. Their souls were mortal. Fleeting.

Over time, a strong fire served to draw the powerful to it. They would, in turn, grow stronger with its presence. They would then serve as food for whichever undead was strong enough to fell them. This was not the first time an undead decided to not link the fire. This was, however, the first time an undead who could not hollow did.

Mikael travelled far and wide, searching for knowledge and someone who could serve as kindling to the flame. He was unaware that, so long as no one claimed his soul, resplendent as it was, no one would be strong enough to feed the First Flame. He held the Lords in his chest.

It took four centuries for Lucatiel to track him down.

The knight of Mirrah begged him to right his wrong. She assumed that he kept a crown of his own, and it was responsible for his unhollowed nature. So long as he did not hollow, his soul would remain anchored to his will even if he died. Without that power, nobody else could kindle the flame.

The knight would have offered herself up to the flame, but for all her skill, her soul was weak.

By this point, the undead outnumbered the living. Another few centuries and Life would die out completely. Hollows, for all their eternal life, could not breed. In an Age of Dark, it wouldn't be a problem. In the Age of Fire? It would be the end.

Death knew Mikael could not stand for that.

He had his issues. He was selfish, manipulative, and secretive, but Mikael was still a good person. She wouldn't have chosen him otherwise.

The Dragon of Life made it back to Majula within the year.

Shannalotte waited for him there, a Crown in her hands. The only one fit for a True Monarch.

Mikeal took it with a wry smile.

As he took his seat on the Throne of Want, closing the doors behind him, Death turned her attention away from the past.

While the flames were less intense and would burn shorter than before, she did not want to see his suffering. Five Worlds were the lowest she could give him. With these first two down, his debt was clear. He could now be compensated for his suffering. Death knew this should be the last time he Burned. It did not make watching it easy.

Turning towards the future was a happier prospect.

There was no Destiny in this World, and free will still existed, but Death was strong enough that she could look through the currents of fate and see likely outcomes.

Death looked beyond the Dragon once more. She saw it achieve its Freedom, and there the paths diverged.

In one path, it made its way to various worlds. It dropped off its companions as it had promised. They would never relent in hunting him. He would spend centuries fleeing, pursued by those who loved him. It would take him that long to realize the error of his assumptions. He would then spend eons at their side, making up for it. That path reached a happy if incomplete, end.

In another, Death summoned him.

He would hunt her down and hold her responsible for all the suffering he and his women had faced. The World would rise up against him in his crusade, and he would lay it low. Heroes and champions would fall to either him or his hoard. Once she explained her side, his relationship with his women would progress quickly, for good and ill, but Mikael would forever resent Death.

Countless other possibilities spiralled out in front of her. She ignored any she wasn't present in. Those were of no use. She focused on those who saw her meeting Mikael as quickly as possible in favourable settings. From there, they could be friends or rivals. Lovers or companions. Eventually, Death settled on the same course of action as always. The one that most likely led to Mikael walking through the door of this Deli a year from now to meet her.

Death stood from her seat, leaving money on the table for her drinks. A pleasant walk in the rain would be good right about now. She was feeling nostalgic. A plan, millions of years in the making, would be coming to fruition soon.

********
 
Solitude 1
Here, O my heart, let us burn the dear dreams that are dead,
Here in this wood let us fashion a funeral pyre
Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red,
Here let us burn them in noon's flaming torches of fire.

********

Robin awoke in a tangle of limbs.

That was, surprisingly, a rare occurrence. Her Devil Fruit abilities only existed when she concentrated on them, so any time she fell asleep or unconscious, the limbs would fade.

Last night she had been so drunk she couldn't have used her fruit anyway.

It was already later than she usually rose, the clock on the wall pointing to well past 11. Her companions, Yoruichi and Tsunade, were still insensate. Hence, it was a bit of a challenge to disentangle herself from their grips. Though Robin did take a moment to admire their naked forms while she dressed for the day. Yoruichi had curled up facing Tsunade, suckling at her teet.

Despite a few bawdy jokes or wandering hands, nothing sexual had occurred last night. Nobody had been in the mood after Robin had broken the news about their home worlds. While the pirate couldn't speak of any of the other women, the three of them had been too caught up in reminiscence to be in any mood for sex.

Judging by the sounds from the other hall, Scathach had comforted Glynda in a much more physical manner. However, Robin was sure the revelation about the world's end hadn't surprised the huntress.

There had been laughter and tears. They had traded stories of all the good times, the people they would miss, the love they had lost, and dreams they never achieved. The night had lasted well into the early hours before everybody stumbled to bed.

As Robin stepped from the room quietly, she took stock of her emotions.

She felt lighter, less overcome when she thought of the Strawhats. There was still a sadness there, grief that would never really go away, but it was a lighter thing. Unlike in the past, when she had fled Ohara, she was not alone with her grief. She had friends and a family who mourned with her.

"Dereshishishishi," Robin chuckled to herself as she made her way to the kitchen. She was unsurprised to find Medea there, puttering around to preparing a meal. "Good morning," she greeted the witch.

"Morning, Robin," Medea answered as she continued to stir the bowl. Her actions were automatic, so the greek was able to give the pirate a commiserating look. "How are you holding up?"

"I'll be alright," she answered demurely as she took a cup of coffee. While the brunette didn't have a hangover, she still preferred to start her day with a cup or two of the black gold. "It still hurts, but I think things will turn out fine."

"It gets easier," Medea finished mixing and put her hand on Robins in a show of camaraderie. The elfin woman stared at her in sincere concern. "It will hurt. You will always think of them, but eventually, it achs more than bleeds."

"Were the argonauts close?" Robin couldn't help but ask. The greek rarely talked about her time on the famous ship.

"The argonauts?" Medea asked, confused as she returned to cooking. "Some were, and with a few exceptions, we were all friendly to each other. I was more talking about my family. I lost them twice over. It does get easier. We just have to move on little by little."

"I didn't mean to assume," Robin apologized as she passed a plate of french toast covered in fruit and syrup. From above, they heard another pair of feet descending the stairs. "I suppose I was a bit spoiled with my crew. We were all close. I thought the Argo would be similar."

"You forget that we were less like a crew and more like a random collection of people on various quests. More than that, we all had dealings with the gods. Only a rare few were of good nature. Events like that tend to scar." Medea explained as she set six more plates at the pirate's side.

Judging by the serving size alone, Robin already knew who was joining them.

"Good morning Robin, Medea," Artoria nodded properly at each of them in turn as she took her seat at the kitchen counter. She ate with the speed of Luffy but the elegance of Sanji. Her mouth was never full when she talked, but she always took another bite as soon as the last word left. "I trust you both are well-rested?"

"Oh, I slept fine," Medea said with a sly smile. "I was a bit lonely. I think only four of us went to bed alone." Artoria blushed deeply, looking away. She continued to eat, however.

"Diana was distraught about her world," the King of Knights defended herself. "We were both well into our cups, and she proved to be a very compassionate lover despite my inexperience. While I do not regret the experience, I do wish you would not bring up such a topic at the table."

"I'm just teasing," the greek said with a chuckle. "I am happy for you two, though I would recommend making sure your door is closed completely in the future if you want privacy."

"We will do that," the blonde said, her flush redoubled.

Robin watched the interaction as she continued to eat. While not unfamiliar with sex, having seen more than her fair share, the pirate had always been too preoccupied to deal in romance. Before she joined the crew, there had been no one she had trusted enough to lay with. She knew how to lead people on, to tease and tantalize, but the physical aspect was foreign to her. Of the Strawhats, only Sanji and Franky were interested in sex and romance. The rest of the crew had been 'Dream-sexual,' too focused on their goals to think about anything else.

The brunette wasn't even sure what she liked. Male? Female? Young? Mature? Now that her dream was put on hold, at least for the moment, maybe she should consider romance since she had the time. Despite never giving love much thought, Robin knew exactly who was sleeping with who on the Island.

Early on, she had kept tabs on everybody at all times. It had been paranoia, she wouldn't deny, but Robin had held at the practice even after she was sure none of the other women were a threat. Partly out of habit, partly curiosity.

Most would not know that Robin, the devil child and most dangerous woman in the world, was that she was a huge gossip. Most of the time, she kept what she discovered to herself. On the crew, she only talked with Nami about what she saw or heard with her Devil Fruit. By this point, the pirate had dirt on all the women on the Island.

Robin watched Medea tease her crush/co-conspirator. She noted the little touches, the way she swayed her hips or bent at the waist. For all that Artoria was eager to put the greek's advice to use in seducing Mikael, the blonde was woefully naive when it came to those same tactics being used on her.

Robin smiled to herself behind her cup of coffee. While they weren't the Strawhats, they were still her new family.

The rest of the women trickled in over the next half hour to have a late breakfast. By the time everyone was fed and had consumed the pills Medea had made for them, Emma turned to address the room.

"As you all might have guessed, Mikael has defeated the last boss of the second game." A few worried looks were thrown at the blonde, but she waved off their concern. "He doesn't intend to link the fire. He will be walking away and trying to find someone else to do it. Unfortunately, he has no idea how long that will take, so we could be without contact for a week or more, like last time. Or he could summon us tonight. He already missed today's 9am summons. Robin, when you are called, let us know as soon as possible."

"Sure," Robin agreed readily enough, leaning into her had as she watched the proceedings.

"Thank you. After last night, I would like to offer my service as a psychologist and counsellor, should anyone feel the need. Like Tsunade, my door is always open if you want to talk." Robin squinted her eyes at Emma. She was being a bit too helpful. The pirate wasn't the only one to think so because Yoruichi spoke up.

"And how are we supposed to trust you? You kept our world's situation a secret until Robin confronted you."

"You can trust me to have some professional pride if nothing else," the mutant said. The rest of the room did not look entirely convinced, so she explained. "None of us trusted each other in the early days, and as a psychic, I know more than most how important privacy is. I only made the deduction about Death after the first month. By that point, even if I told you all, you wouldn't believe me, nor would it have achieved anything. It would also be more points of failure for Mikael to discover."

"Why hide it from him?" Glynda asked.

"His second element," Diana said before Emma could respond. "While he is a dragon of Freedom, he is also a dragon of Life."

"That is one concern," the White Queen nodded at the amazon. "We know elements have a mental and emotional aspect, so Life being in the service of Death could be a problem. It is not my main worry, though. How much do you all know about Patrons?"

"Not a great deal," Glynda admitted. "I believe he mentioned it to me only once, saying there would have been no point in the original story."

"There are two main worries I have," Emma said as she poured herself another cup of coffee. Her fifth in half an hour. Robin shared a concerned look with Raven. Was Emma already spiralling? It hadn't even been a full day since she had talked to Mikael.

"The first and least of my worries is that Patrons choose their champions. Unlike the company which lets people do as they will, getting clones of any captures for use, Patrons actively pick people for reasons. This gives them benefits but also duties. Not only did Death choose Mikael, but they also tampered with things to a great extent."

"Such as?" Tsunade asked.

"Such as the sheer size of that dragon outside," Medea chimed in. Emma nodded for her to continue. "I went over dragons with Mikeal a few times. It makes no sense for the dragon to be that big. This Island can be large because there are ways to purchase size expansions. The only way for Mikael's body to grow so big would be it growing throughout millions of years."

"They also made sure he was as skilled as possible," Glynda said in thought. The rest of the room looked at her, and she elaborated. "I helped train him. He was hopeless early on, with no combat sense in the least. Even if he could control the dragon's body, his only threat would be in size. Now? In pure skill alone, he is my superior. Even if he does not have Aura, so long as he is decently equipped and can use his magic, only a few of us could beat him. Most of that is pure skill and knowledge."

"This man has been honing his warcraft for decades," Diana nodded, catching on. "He has fought armies, monsters and gods. He isn't even done yet. By forcing us to remain on the sidelines, they have created a warrior of unsurpassed skill."

"That is not the only change Death made," Scathach said. "The Island grows and adapts as he encounters foes. The manor would have existed in Mikael's original choices but not the Island. We must assume that it serves some greater purpose as well."

"So Death wants something from him, or us? Big whoop," Yoruichi said, still staring at Emma. "We can deal with that when it becomes important. You never told us why we couldn't just tell Mikael."

"As I said, Death's intentions were the least of my worries." Emma took a big sip of coffee, pausing in thought before speaking again with a sigh. "I will just come out and say it then. We are all dead." There was a beat of silence where the women waited for Emma to elaborate.

"So?" Yoruichi asked.

"We are all dead," Emma repeated. "Not undead like Mikael or souls like in your home world. The only reason we are still around is that we were Chosen. Our worlds ended, and they took us with them."

"We are aware of that," Tsunade said harshly, not liking having the recent wound opened.

"I think," Robin said, putting the pieces together. "What she means is our continued existence is dependent on Mikael."

"Is that not a good thing?" Priscila, who had been silent until now, spoke. "Did our Bard not make you all immortal?"

"We do not know if Warranty Plan is active. A lot of the original catalogue was changed. We have to operate on the assumption that we are no longer guaranteed rebirth," Glynda explained to the crossbreed before turning to Emma. "I do not think that is what you are getting at."

"It isn't, but keeping our potential mortality in mind is essential. I mentioned that by being chosen by a Patron, people get perks and benefits that they do not usually receive by being randomly picked by the company. Death, specifically, allows for the release of any captures and its champions to send the dead off to an afterlife."

"You think he would put us to rest if he knew he could?" Yoruichi asked, horrified. Others around the table reacted just as harshly. Medea looked like she would cry at the thought.

"For some of us? Before he left his cell if he knew he could and convinced himself it was for our sake? He would have in a heartbeat. Now, I can't be sure one way or the other, but I would rather not take the risk." Emma said plainly, staring at Scathach. Rather than be affronted at the words, Robin paid attention to the mutant's emphasis on the word 'convinced.' She had done something similar the night before.

"Why? I know he said he couldn't love us, but surely he doesn't hate us to that extent?" Medea looked almost desperately at Emma, urging her for answers.

"He doesn't hate us," she quickly clarified. "In fact, the opposi-"

The mutant was cut off as her throat seized up. The psychic clutched at it desperately, coffee falling to the floor. All the women sprang to their feet, some rushing to her side in an instant. Others looked around in search of an enemy.

Robin stayed in her seat, well aware that it was the result of the Comand Seal. She was busy pondering the blonde's words. The opposite of hate? That had some implications that would line up with her own theories.

"I'm fine," Emma said as the women crowded around her. "I'm fine. It was the seal. I can't say more. Just know Mikael doesn't hate any of us."

"It'll be another month or so before we cross the tier seven threshold for dragon's blood," Medea said as she cleaned up the spilled mess. "Once we do, I am going to use Rule Breaker. Whether you want me to or not."

"Please do," Emma said. "I am rather sick of things as it is."

Robin took the chance to step away. She would get no more answers for now. A lot had changed in the last twenty-four hours. She needed to get the story straight before the details faded.

*********

Robin, upon her summoning, found herself in a cemetery.

Dozens of headstones lined the walls and pilled at her feet. The sky was a grey overcast, barely providing any illumination. Ash swirled in the cold air, and groans rang in the distance. Robin could not see her summoner immediately, but he was not hard to find.

He lay in an open coffin, half-buried in the dirt. His form was emaciated and sunken in, though not to the extent he was in his cell. Rather than look like dried jerky, he looked like Luffy, who went without eating for two days.

He was, again, completely naked.

Robin eyed his form more critically since he wasn't a complete husk of rotten skin and bones. She had seen dozens of examples in her life of spying. Still, her only real experience with touching male genitalia had been when the crew rather forcefully recruited Franky; other times, she used it as a convenient target. Mikael staked up favourably to the cyborg, but the pirate had no idea what was considered 'impressive' in this sphere.

Mikael was awake, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared at the sky. He did not so much as twitch as she neared his still form. Robin would have been worried had the Darksign branded onto his heart and the six red Command Seals that circled it not pulsed regularly like a heartbeat.

"Mikael?" Robin asked softly as she leaned her head over his prone form. "What happened? Did something go wrong with your plan?" The man stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending, before he moved.

"Nothing." He said, taking a deep breath and dislodging the pile of ash that had accumulated on his body. "Nothing happened."

Robin backed away as the man slowly and methodically sat up and raised himself out of the coffin. Suddenly his body twitched violently in spasms, and he almost fell back down. Robin reached out instinctually to support him, though her body passed through as always. She needn't have bothered as Mikael caught himself and, with another deep breath, rose to his full height.

"Sorry," Mikael said as he started to slowly and carefully go through some stretches. "I am just getting used to this new body." His voice was rougher than she was used to. He usually spoke with a deep, smooth rhythm that Yoruichi had, more than once, claimed to want to hear in bed. Now it was the sound of gravel and rocks.

Robin eyed the man critically as he methodically moved every part of his body, uncaring for his nudity. The man, even emaciated as he was, was still a mountain. Robin was the second tallest of the women on the Island at 6'2", after only Glynda's impressive 6'5", and Mikael still stood an inch or two taller than her. Though he lacked the muscles she knew he would gain, he was still wider than her. Every once in a while, his body would be wracked with more spasms, and he would lose his footing.

"What happened after you defeated Aldia?" Robin asked. As the minutes passed, he got more control of his body, and his speed picked up. His face still remained blank of all expression.

"I hoped I would be transported here right away," he explained monotonously. "I wasn't. It took a while. How long was it on your end?"

"Only six days this time," Robin said, starting to grow worried about his out-of-character behaviour. Mikael loved to talk. He was never the strong silent type. After discussing with the other women, they all agreed that he wasn't talking only when he was singing or deep in thought.

"That lines up with my time," Mikeal said simply. Robin did some quick math. Six days was almost two whole cycles. He must have been on his own for nearly two years. No wonder he was out of it. Mikael continued to move, starting to do squats and focus on his legs. There was a moment of silence that Robin didn't know how to break before the man began to speak, his words hesitant and unsure. "Are you... are you all right?"

"Hm?"

"Before," the naked man stopped his movements and looked at her. His face finally changed to worry and confusion. "Before Nishandra and Aldia, I was talking to... Emma, I think. She said you got some bad news. Are you all right?"

Robin's heart clenched for more than one reason. The reminder of her loss, of the Strawhats, was still painful. It had only been a week after all. But another feeling also welled up within her.

Nico Robin was familiar with loneliness. It had been her only companion throughout most of her life. With no friends or people to trust, her loneliness nearly drove her to take her own life. It had been a year and a half for him. After what had clearly been an ordeal, Mikael still remembered a conversation that long ago and still worried about her. It touched Robin somewhere deep.

She hoped that he at least had someone with him during that time. That he hadn't been utterly alone like she suspected.

"I'm hanging in there," the pirate said instead of asking about her worries. "The other women have been keeping me company. I am not alone." 'Unlike you,' went unsaid.

"Good, good." Mikeal nodded slowly before returning to his stretches. Robin watched him for a minute, wondering if he would continue the conversation. He didn't, though she was surprised he could do a full split.

"Medea succeeded," she said. Mikael looked at her in confusion. "With the eggs? She succeeded in hatching them."

"Really?" A slight glint of curiosity now glimmered in Mikael's brown eyes.

"Yes," she continued, happy to get him out of his stupor. "All four hatched four days ago. They were adorable, barely the size of a pillow. Three females and one male. Artoria named the male Hengeron II and one of the girls Llamrei II. Medea called the other two, Andromeda and Cassandra. They've really livened up the place."

"Of course they would call them that," Mikeal deadpanned, though Robin could see a hint of a smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Both Medea and Tsunade have been trying to get them to sit still for some scans," Robin continued. "But all four, barely able to walk, try and follow Artoria or Priscila like little ducklings." Mikeal finally let out a small chuckle at the mental image.

"You're right. That does sound adorable."

For the next few minutes, Robin regaled him with stories of the drakes' exploits. Like how they had destroyed Priscila's robe and made a nest out of it. Or how they had chased Yoruichi, in cat form, around the living room. Through it all. Mikael continued with his exercises. Though he did laugh at the last story.

"They're going to be real hellions when they grow up," he said as he stood up from a brief stint of sit-ups. He started to make his way towards the only exit in the little cul-de-sac the pair found themselves in.

"I'm sure they will kidnap a princess or three," Robin said as she followed the man. "Maybe terrorize a village."

"I'm sure you all will train them right. Though, I wouldn't be surprised if Medea taught them to attack any blond pretty boys on sight."

As he spoke, they approached a widening in the path. Robin noted with interest the ruins that lay around her. A fountain of some sort had once been here, the damage and growth of flora indicating it had been abandoned centuries ago. Nestled in between the cliffs as it was, engravings had been protected from most of the elements.

The occasional body lay in heaps. More graves lay all around, and what plant life there was, was grey and wilting. Some bodies still twitched, though most lay still.

Mikael would eye a body once before moving on in quick succession. Robin decided to stay quiet for the moment, unsure if this area was safe for her summoner. The first body they approached that still moved, naked like her companion, Mikael walked up to and stomped on the being's skull. Its head burst, covering the man's foot in grey matter. A silver mist rose from the corpse and flowed into Mikael, who rolled his shoulders in response.

"Alright, everything is still in order," he said as he wiped his food in the dirt. "Let's find one with an Estus, weapon or at least clothes."

"I'm guessing you know where we are?" Robin asked as the pair made their way forward, occasionally pausing for Mikael to strike down another hollow.

"Dark Souls 3, unlike the other games, has a different framework," Mikael explained, casually breaking the neck of an undead who had tried to lunge at him. "You do not play as a hollow, at least not initially by the same definition as the other games. This is the Cemetary of Ash. Here lay those who tried to Link the Fire but were too weak to sustain the flame. Only ash remained of them. To make a long story short, the Lords of Cinder who could link the fire haven't. So the world calls upon Unkindled Ash since the start of the world to give them another chance to Link the Fire. Just another failsafe in the Age of Fire to ensure the flames never truly go out."

"So they are not undead," Robin couldn't help but ask.

"Not hollows specifically," Mikael clarified. "They are still undead, and most are- 'scuse me for a second."

A dog, grey and emaciated like the corpse it was eating, had spotted her companion. It growled and barked, lunging for Mikael's throat. The man barely flitched at the violent attack. Instead, he caught it by the neck in one hand and broke its neck with a loud and quick 'snap.'

"Sorry," he said, throwing the corpse away. "Anyway, they are a different kind of undead. Most are still mindless, the First Flame having burned away their sanity just like hollowing. It is okay to think of them as the same, though the term Hollow has different connotations in this game than in the others."

"Is that why you can end the Age of Fire in this game?"

"Partially," he waved in a 'so-so' gesture. "You have to understand, Unkindled Ash are failures. The fact that they are summoned at all shows how dire the Flame feels the situation to be. For all Gwyn's machinations, the Age is meant to end, and will end, eventually. If the first game is the last gasp of a civilization, then this one is the last gasp of a World. It has been stretched for too long."

Robin continued to ask questions as they wandered about the cemetery. There was a brief period of worry when Mikael was beset by three foes and a dog at once, but her summoner managed to survive the encounter with some good positioning. Robin would rate his hand-to-hand skills as decent enough, though she could probably take him with her own Fishman Karate. It was clear he was used to weapons for all his combat skills.

Eventually, after an hour of wandering, the pair managed to make their way out of the part of the cemetery in the cliffs' crag. Robin's breath was stolen from her when she stood on the ravine's edge, staring out over the miles and miles of tombstones lined the cliff edge. Very faintly in the distance, near the horizon, she could make out a structure of some sort.

"That's my first stop," Mikeal said. He was also looking at the far structure. "I'll have to face Gundyr if I want to make it to Firelink Shrine. I hope I can find a decent enough weapon before then. The Fire Keeper is on the other side, and I can't channel souls into my body and spirit without her."

"Let me help you look for something," Robin said. While her main body remained nearby, she started sprouting eyes further away. The sheer number of dead that filled this graveyard was staggering. It took some real effort on the woman's part to sort through all the visual information she was receiving.

Most of the ashen ones were the naked, gaunt-looking ones the pair had already met. After five minutes of searching, Robin found one in better shape. It wore loose clothes, which was more than most, and the pirate directed Mikael in its direction. Unfortunately, it only had the clothes on its back. Nonetheless, her companion killed it and took its vestments.

The next few hours were spent making a winding trail towards the shrine.

By the time Robin felt her time ending, they were still far away, but the pair had managed to find two Estus flasks and a broken sword. More importantly, to Robin at least, Mikael had gotten out of his funk. He was joking and laughing as usual. She had even caught him humming under his breath a few times.

As she stepped through the portal, Robin let her thoughts broadcast. Emma had been nearly catatonic with worry for the last few days, and the pirate would rather nip her attitude in the bud. At the same time, Robin decided it was time she took the mutant up on her offer of counselling.

If Mikael could push forward, so could she.

*******

Ok, we are all caught up now. Chapters will be released on Fridays and Mondays going forward.
 
Solitude 2
We are weary, my heart, we are weary, so long we have borne
The heavy loved burden of dreams that are dead, let us rest,
Let us scatter their ashes away, for a while let us mourn;
We will rest, O my heart, till the shadows are gray in the west.

******

"You are doing very well, you two," Diana said encouragingly. "Robin, you should be all set. You've got floating down, and the rest is just getting comfortable with the various methods of movements."

"Thank you," Robin said, laying on her back. She was the one that took to the lessons the easiest. While all the women possessed 'Body Talent,' it didn't change that some people were naturally predisposed to certain activities more than others.

Looking over at Artoria, who continued to flail in the water like she was trying to fight it, Diana couldn't help but smile wryly.

Her friend, and more recently lover, had not told the group she couldn't swim. In fact, the amazon would bet money that the blonde would have kept it a secret for as long as possible had Robin not asked for swimming lessons of her own. On land, Artoria was the picture of elegant and mature grace. In the water, she looked like a kid on too much sugar.

Even as Diana watched, the blonde got fed up with her failure to stay afloat. The blonde let herself sink and jumped off the ocean floor. She landed on the waves themselves, the blessing of the Lady of the Lake keeping her from falling.

"I shall best this trial," Artoria swore, staring down at the water like it was her worst enemy.

"You are trying too hard," Glynda said. The taller blonde was wading in their direction, the shallow water only coming up under her considerable breasts. Everyone was in swimsuits of one form or another, except for Yoruichi, who insisted on remaining nude. "Diana, let me take over for a bit."

"If you feel up for it," the amazon started to make her way back to the shore. Artoria would still need help from the teacher, but Robin was enjoying herself independently. The brunette had conjured several legs and combined them in a pseudo mermaid tale.

"I love that girl," Medea said, eyeing Artoria and shaking her head. The bluenette was sipping some fruity blue drink and lounging on a beach chair. "But she can be a bit of a ditz about the oddest things."

Diana had, by this point, towelled off and taken her own seat on the plush chairs. Medea was to her left, and Emma, tanning on her own chair, was to her right. In the distance, they watched Yoruichi hoot and holler in joy as she piloted the jet ski around. Tsunade simply floated in the surf on an inflatable raft, more than a few jugs of sake within arms reach.

"It's because she had such an odd upbringing," Emma said, not moving from her position. "She was a woman pretending to be a man, a knight, and a king. Her education came from an apprenticeship and the occasional advice from an Incubus. She has 'Grail Knowledge,' but, unlike you or Scathach, she defaults to her time in Camelot."

"Tis a silly place, Camelot," Diana said seriously before grinning at Medea, who grinned back. "By the way, who's watching the children?"

"Priscila is babysitting," Medea said, taking another sip of her drink. "She's been training so much that she's fallen behind in the games she wanted to play. She set up in the living room with the big TV, and I dumped the little guys with her. They are still too young for me to trust at the beach. Besides, Raven is there to help her if needed."

"We won't be able to keep them inside for much longer," Emma pointed out. "They are already the size of large dogs. Soon they won't fit through the doors."

"I know, but I don't want to put my babies out in the wild just yet." There was a whiny tone in her voice, though Diana knew the witch was just playing.

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask," Diana started. "When will the others cross the Tier 7 threshold? By my math, it should be soon, and I would rather get Emma free as soon as possible."

"Glynda and Tsunade reached Tier 7 two weeks ago, a bit after Mikael started the third game," Medea said casually. "Priscila, because she started a bit later, only crossed it a few days ago. We are only waiting for Robin. Since she was Tier 5 when she appeared on the Island, she has about a 75-litre difference from the others. She'll reach the tipping point after she takes her last dose at lunch in ten days. Each of those pills I give you with every meal is 1 litre of compressed blood."

"Are you certain?" Wonder Woman couldn't help but ask. "I do not want to put Emma at risk if we miscalculate the dosage."

"I've run the number dozens of times. I am as certain as can be."

"I do not mean to doubt you," Diana continued. "I thought the entire point was that when someone reached Tier 7 by dragon blood, they assume draconic elements and turn into one themselves. As far as I know, no one has turned into a dragon. Can we trust that Emma will be all right without that side effect?"

"No one told you?" Medea asked, staring at the brunette in surprise.

"Told me what?"

"We cannot change," Emma explained. "Physically, I mean. Something is preventing all permanent changes in our bodies. While I am in my diamond form, I have been able to lift about 2 tons in the past. My base strength, however, has only been slightly greater than average. Despite all the training we've been doing over the last few months, I have put on no muscle and am not stronger in any way."

"Really?" Wonder Woman couldn't help but wonder.

"We only realized it when Tsunade started giving us check-ups," Medea continued from the blonde. "She pointed out how odd it was for people, especially those who eat as much and are as active as us, to remain the same weight over a month with not even a little change. For the Servants, it would make sense. We are summoned at our peak and are half spiritual. The others? Not so much."

"Could it be because we are dead? Most undead I know are not able to grow." Diana asked. As she did so, she watched Artoria lay flat on a telekinetic platform, Glynda slowly lowering it into the water.

"That was a possibility we considered," the witch nodded but denied the conclusion. "We tested it with Priscilla. She is still alive, barely ever trained a day in her life, and was the one that would have the most variance. Despite getting better at fighting, she has developed no new muscles."

"That must be painful," Diana frowned. If the dragon girl was not developing muscle and muscle memory, their training was like the first day all over again. "I suppose if she trained so rarely, Priscila would not know how odd her situation is."

"Next, we tested if we were 'Tier Locked,' as it were," Medea continued to explain their scientific process. "Maybe we cannot get stronger without going up a Tier? That isn't the case either. Robin had gone from Tier 5 when first summoned to 6 and is almost at 7. Her powers are more varied, she unlocked Conquerors Haki when it wasn't possible before, and she has lost her weakness to water. Despite this, her physical stats have not changed in the least."

"So it is just our bodies then? Does it just prevent growth or any physical change?" It should be remembered that, despite being a very physical fighter, Wonder Woman had also been blessed by Athena to have great wisdom. While she was no scientist or mage, she was smart enough to keep up with the best of them.

"Any physical deviation," Emma said, flipping herself over on her chair. "Think of it like the halfway point between reality and what happens when Mikael summons us. We can affect the world, but it cannot affect us."

"A good analogy, but not exactly right." Medea downed the last of her drink and waved her hands. A simple dislocation spell conjured another glass from the distant bar into her hand, this one red instead of blue. "It is not that we cannot be affected physically. We've all been hurt in training and needed Tsunade to patch us up. Any physical change is reset as soon as the moon sets in the morning."

"The moon?" Diana asked.

"A lot of things are tied to the Moon here. While celestial objects have always been important to magic. Since this is a demi-plane more than a pocket space-"

"Don't ask," Emma suddenly spoke up. She interrupted Medea's speech and Diana, who was going to ask about the difference. The blonde did not even look at them, staying face down on her chair as she answered their silent question. "I do not need to read your minds to know that you would ask Diana. And if you did, Medea would have gone on a long tangent that I don't feel like listening to."

"Anyway," the witch blushed a little at the accurate remark. "Despite not being 'real' celestial bodies, not extending past the Jewel, the sun, moon, and stars still affect things. My descent from Helios led me to initially assume that the sun was more important. But I recently discovered the Moon is a crucial factor in many aspects of the Island."

"How so?" A minor aspect of Artemis's blessing meant that Diana was always aware of the phase of the moon. An almost useless part, except for that one time she fought a werewolf.

"Much like the sun, it rises and sets at the same time every day. I thought we were summoned only when the sun was up, but I realized that the sun rises at roughly 6:30 but sets at 8:30. The moon, on the other hand, rises at precisely 9pm. Due to the angle of the island mountains, I didn't realize it was still faintly visible until it set at exactly 9am. We aren't being summoned with the sun is up, but when the moon is gone. That is the only time our time and Mikael's time can line up."

"While that is interesting to hear," Diana smiled diplomatically at her fellow greek. Seeing her get so animated about a subject was nice, even if they had drifted off-topic. "How does this relate to our physical state?"

"I was getting to that. If we are hurt, train, or have any other physical change, it all gets reset as soon as the moon sets at 9." Medea said in a huff. "Scathach and Tsunade helped me test it. No matter how grave the injury, it disappears in a moment. Since then, we have tried to see if other things align with that time frame. We've only had two successes. All creatures that die after 9 am are resummed the following day. Any new biome or environment Mikael encounters? They, too, only appear at 9 am."

"So, what does it all mean?"

"We have no idea," Emma piped up. "For every mystery we solve, another takes its place."

"I am sorry to say she is right," Medea winced. "The process of discovery and testing is fascinating. We know time is convoluted. That has been consistent throughout this entire experience. We managed to line some things up, but we are no closer to the 'WHY?' of everything. We have dozens of theories, but nothing we can test."

"I find this all rather frustrating," Diana admitted. Despite her words, she did quirk a smile as Artoria finally managed to stay afloat on her back without support. "As good a company as you all are, and as enjoyable as this Island has proven to be, I am going a bit crazy. I always feel like this is one significant buildup, one massive plan from a being who we have seen neither hide nor hair of. If they want something from us, why have they not asked? If it is Death, why go through all this?"

There was a few moments of silence as the women on the beach contemplated their situation.

"In my experience," Medea spoke up after a minute, simmering anger filling her tone. "This is the norm. Higher powers always mess with those lesser than them. They like to see us struggle, and when they grow bored, we are discarded. They never care for innocence or guilt, morality or faith. All they care for is their own capricious whims. And when the chips fall? Then they sit on their high thrones and judge you."

Diana remained silent as the Witch of Betrayal stood and made her way to the water. Emma, too, did not say a word.

*********

"They are getting frustrated," Diana said suddenly. The words had slipped out while she was lost in thought.

The pair had been walking in companionable silence for the last ten minutes, enjoying the night air. Irithyll was a beautiful city. The gentle falling snow, silver buildings, and crescent moon painted a beautiful tableau. It was a crisp and cool night. Though Mikael's breath fogged the air with every breath, Diana's did not.

She could not feel the cold.

Shadow figures would occasionally dart from dark alleys to attack her companion, sometimes many at once. He dealt with them efficiently, either with his blade or flames. Knights and clerics walked the main roads. They posed a more significant threat, though Mikael could overcome them too.

Wonder Woman watched all the battles she could as the pair made their way deeper into the metropolis. Mikael had explained that his target was the massive cathedral in the center, miles away from their starting position on the bridge. This was the first time Diana had the chance to actually be part of Mikael's journey. Every time she was summoned, they remained stationary in a 'safe' place.

It was enlightening.

The last ten minutes of silence had been the longest her companion had gone without being attacked. It seemed like a shadow hag would ambush him every step they took. Beyond every corner was a priest casting a spell or knights waiting to charge.

Mikael had told her kingdoms and civilizations were converging on Lothric as the fire faded. Their proximity, he said, reduced the time it would take to beat the game. Each of those held millions of inhabitants, most all mad in undeath. They all stood between her summoner and his objective.

There had been times when Diana wondered why it took Mikael decades to clear one 'game.' With his skills, surely he could do it faster. The enemies were a problem, but so was the sheer distance. Every time he died, he lost days of progress. Since he wasn't hollowed, he retained his connection to the bonfires and reformed at the most recent one where he rested. That could be miles away.

By that point, either the undead he had killed had reformed, or more had filled in the holes. Since one death was such a setback, he had to proceed carefully each time. He never knew how many enemies there were or where they could have moved.

She did not know how many beings he had killed alone in the last two hours. She lost track after the first hundred. If this was the norm, he would have a more significant body count than almost all the villains she had faced in her life. In fact, if he only killed one hundred a day, he would have a higher body count than in most wars.

Though his foes were undead, Diana had to wonder about the mentality of a man who could do all that.

"Hm?" Mikael made a noise in question at her words.

"The other women," the amazon clarified as she returned to the here and now. "Many of them are worried that, so close to the end of your journey, you will go through with what you promised and leave us. Them, I mean. You said a few more weeks on our end, correct?"

"That's right," though he answered her, his eyes never stopped roaming the street. He was always looking for foes that could spring at any moment.

"Surely by now, you realize their feelings are genuine? Would it be so wrong to return their affections?"

"Wrong? No. Dangerous? Yes."

"How come?" Diana asked. Michael remained silent, his lips pressed into a frown. "Medea has been using your blood to help us ascend tiers." Mikael nodded but didn't say anything, so she continued. She was taking a risk, but she knew they had to do something drastic. "Once we've all consumed enough to qualify for Tier 7, she plans on using her Noble Phantasm on Emma."

That got a reaction.

Mikael whirled on her, staring at her with wide eyes. He looked worried, panicked even. Despite that, Diana continued to talk.

"We'll be taking all precautions we can, we'll do it right before her next summoning, so if anything goes wrong, you can reimpose the Command. But one way or the other, we are all committed to getting Emma free. It wouldn't be fair to have her bound like that, nor is it wise to keep secrets for so long. Especially from those that only want to help."

"Free? Fair?" He said incredulously. The man stared at Diana, but she met his eyes resolutely.

She knew that people were entitled to their secrets, but she believed that if it was going hurt people, expressly her newfound family, it was better to know. Was this a bit unfair to Mikael? Yes, but they wouldn't have needed to go this far if he had been honest from the start. Diana couldn't understand why, after all this time, he could not trust them. She had faced this same struggle with Bruce several times. Sometimes obstinancy was needed.

He turned away, pausing a moment before starting to speak.

"Imagine," he started to say, piecing his words together like a puzzle. "Imagine you are torn away from everything you ever know. You wake up in a cell naked. You are branded by a curse, one designed to drive you mad. You do everything you can to escape. Over and over, you try to climb the walls, break down the door, anything you can think of. Nothing works. You are in that cell for months, waiting for someone to free you. No companions, no one to talk to. The same four walls. But something is urging you on, never to give up. So you keep trying. One attempt finally kills you. A bashed-in skull from trying to climb to the ceiling."

Diana remained silent, letting Mikael vent. The story pained her, but she wanted to know where he was going with it.

"You wake up in the same place you died, knowing you died and will never escape. You keep trying anyway. You are not able to die nor give up. Then one day, poof," Mikael made a little gesture, tossing some light snow in the air. "Someone appears in your cell. Great! The only problem is that someone is a fictional character and can't interact with the world. You've clearly gone mad, but 'hey, what the hell? If I'm mad, let's see how this goes.' you think to yourself. The madness remains consistent, though you start to feel hope. 'Maybe there is a way out after all.'"

"You still think we are figments of your imagination?" Diana asked incredulously. Mikael shook his head.

"I am trying to get you to see things through my perspective for a bit. I do agree communication is important, but so is understanding where the other stands." He said before continuing his story. "Then something happens. One of the figments of your imagination, one of the women you imagined into existence, does something stupid. She at once proves that she exists to you and that all these delusions are more of a threat to your freedom than the cell ever was."

"You know we are not," the amazon interrupted. "We want to help. Why can't you trust us on that? We are no threat. Even Emma had no malicious intent when she entered your mind."

"So you get desperate, trying to seize all the control you can from the situation." He continued as if uninterrupted. "Step one? Get out of the cell ASAP. The following companion summoned gives you an idea. You're not connected to a bonfire, so you reform precisely when your body falls. What if most of your body is outside? So you start working, cutting your limbs on the bars and passing them through until all that is left is one arm you use to force your skull through and then separate it from your torso. The only part that doesn't fit."

Diana swallowed back the bile in her throat. Mikael had never told anyone how he escaped the Asylum. The man did not pay her horror any mind. He had said all that in a monotone as if recounting the weather. Now his voice picked up as if recalling a happy memory.

"You are finally free of the cell! The gamble worked! More than that, you discover that you can minimize contact with these threats. Instead of spending a few hours a week with them, you can reduce it to a few a month. You cannot force them to leave. Even if you could, it would risk tipping your hand. The following month is spent fighting and dying as you go through demons and hordes of undead. That pattern repeats for decades. You can never rest, never relax. You are trapped in a world, in a mind you know is not your own. Your companions, your only aid, are your biggest threats. But you care for them. You want to help them as well. You would never hurt them if you could. They saved you after all. Can you imagine all that, Diana?"

"I can," she said, her throat dry.

"Good," he looked her in the eye. "Now, despite all that, you would ask me to be open to my wardens? To give away my weakness and risk never achieving the freedom and life that drives me? You would ask me to place shackles on myself as I stand only a few years away from my prison break?"

"No," she denied. "I would ask you to trust us. Trust that no matter what, we are on your side. That we are not your wardens. We, they, love you. Entrust your weakness to us, whatever it is, so we can prove you wrong. We are going to be together forever. You will have to trust us at some point."

"There would be a way for me to trust you," he said. The command seals glowed brightly enough that the light shown through his armour. "I got these because they were cheap and practical. It would be easy too. I would have to start with Medea, of course. Her Noble Phantasm would be the most dangerous threat. All my seals regenerate between summonings. I'm sure I could devise a combination of six commands that would bend any of you to my will. From there, any time anyone is summoned, I simply repeat the process. It would be easy. All it would take would be that I need to abandon the last notions of my humanity, my own values."

Despite his words, the heroine felt no danger and met him eye to eye. Perhaps sensing her determination, maybe simply giving up, Mikael turned away from her and slumped. Diana's heart clenched at the sight, but she remained firm.

"I suppose this is what I get for being too clever," he said wryly. "I can't even order you not to free Emma without going for the nuclear option. Medea would simply use Rule Breaker on you too. I also doubt that any order would stick forever. Emma's has stuck around so long because I refresh them every time she is summoned. And none of you would ever forgive me if I tried. I guess I am being hypocritical. Who am I to stand between a prisoner and freedom?"

There was a long moment when the man gathered his thoughts. Diana kept silent until he took a deep breath, straightened his spine and looked at her again. Though he was only a few inches taller than her six-foot frame, Wonder Woman was pierced by the intense look in his brown eyes. She had known he was a warrior, had watched him battle with great skill, but he was always so gentle with her and the other women that it hadn't really connected in her mind. There was once laughter, warmth and affection in those brown pools. Only steely determination remained as he looked at her, judging her.

This was a man who killed kingdoms. Who slaughtered gods and demons and absorbed their souls. Who, after decades of slaughter and death, after experiencing all the pain the world had to offer, still stood again. This was a man who became a Lord of Cinder twice over.

Diana met those eyes, heart beating wildly in her chest.

"There's nothing I could do to change your minds?" He asked, knowing the answer.

"Nothing," she said resolutely, ensuring her voice was steady and even.

"And you all will accept the consequences of your actions? No matter what they are?"

"We will."

In the future, Diana would look back at this moment wryly. Though it would mark a short downturn in their relationship, it would also be the moment that she decided that falling in love with him was the right thing.

"Very well, a compromise then," he nodded in acceptance. Flames gathered in his hands, and great balls of chaotic magma flooded the street as dozens of shadow hags screamed in pain as their ashen flesh melted away. "Next time Emma is summoned, I'll remove the Command to never talk about what she knows. It will be safer that way. Less risk of backsliding."

As Diana stood amidst the magma rapidly cooling in the night air, she realized two things. Firstly, though she had won the argument and gotten the transparency she wanted, she still felt like she had lost something. Mikael still did not trust them. He was simply being blackmailed into her demands. Either he relinquished his Command, or he risked Emma's health. This entire time, his second priority after being free had always been the well-being of the women of the Island.

The dark red flames licked through her immaterial body and cast flickering shadows on the silver walls. They also illuminated Mikael as he turned from her. His dented and battered armour. The number of weapons he kept out of his bottomless pouches in case any broke. The bow and enchanted arrows he used when needed. The long staff, at once weapon and catalyst. His broad back.

Diana realized a second thing as she watched that back get further away, the magma not harming him.

She could feel the heat.

**********

This one's going up a bit early today, I finally got a job. Horray for financial security.

Take this one with a grain of salt. Diana is equating Mikael with Batman. There are some parallels but it's not as close a match as she thinks. More on that on Monday. I'm going to finish off Part 3 then with an extra long chapter as an early birthday present for myself, so you can look forward to it.
 
Solitude 3
But soon we must rise, O my heart, we must wander again
Into the war of the world and the strife of the throng;
Let us rise, O my heart, let us gather the dreams that remain,
We will conquer the sorrow of life with the sorrow of song.

******

"Ten seconds," Medea said.

"I'll see you all in a moment," Emma responded, closing her eyes to lessen the disorientation of the summoning.

All the Island women were gathered in the 'meeting room,' the largest of the sitting areas. Diana had returned with news that Mikael would release the mutant from her Command yesterday. Since then, the rest of the group had waited in anticipation for this moment. To avoid being distracted from the discussion, the drakes were housed in an enclosure Scathach and Medea had built in the nearby field.

Once the clock hit 3 pm precisely, the White Queen disappeared. Blink, and you would miss it. Due solely to their familiarity with the process and superhuman senses, the women of the Island saw the blonde's figure blur like a TV out of focus before settling again as the clock's second hand moved one tick.

The change in Emma herself was much more noticeable.

Gone was the determined look on her face, replaced with a forlorn look. She looked near tears, in fact. The blonde slumped, wiping her eyes furiously and sniffling slightly.

"Emma?" Diana asked with concern. "Are you all right? What happened?"

Perhaps the amazon was the wrong person to speak as no sooner had the words left her mouth than Emma rounded on her. Her blue eyes were narrowed in anger and her fists clenched. In fact, those same fists were starting the process of turning into diamonds. Emma took a step towards Wonder Woman, looking ready to strike her.

"Calm down!" Raven, usually so quiet and introverted, shouted. Her voice was still monotone, but there was an edge of warning. "He wouldn't want us to fight." Her words stopped the mutant, though she still glared at Diana.

"Get your lasso," Emma told Wonder Woman, voice seething with rage and pain. "You all want the truth? Fine, you'll get it."

"There is no need," Artoria tried to say diplomatically. "I'm sure we-"

"I want the damn rope!" Emma snarled at the blonde. "By the end of this, I don't want any doubt of what I'm going to say."

"It's fine," Diana said to the king. She had decided to accept whatever the consequences were of her decision. The amazon left the room to retrieve her enchanted weapon.

While she was gone, an awkward silence filled the seating chamber. Emma collapsed into a chair, her head in her hands. The rage seemed to have left her, leaving her worn and despondent.

"What's wrong, Emma?" Glynda, who she sat beside, asked softly. Her fellow blonde shook her head, not saying a word.

Diana returned less than a minute later, Glynda and Medea still trying to coax the mutant into speech. Once the amazon entered, Emma did not look at her, simply holding up a hand. The heroine tossed the golden rope into her waiting palm. The White Queen then wrapped it around her left arm, the thread glowing in a golden light.

"I had breast implants," Emma said suddenly, to the room's confusion. "My breasts are all natural."

"Is it not working," Diana asked after those conflicting statements.

"It's working," Emma still did not look at the amazon, eyeing the lasso on her arm in contemplation. "I did have breast implants, but they became natural when I was summoned to the Island. I was testing it. It works off intent. I can't even think about lying or deceiving people with it on. Though I have the option to not talk."

"So," Medea started to say. "What happened?"

"Right," Emma took a deep breath, calming herself. She looked around the room, ensuring that the entire group met her eyes at least once. "First, give up on making Mikael fall in love with any of us. It is not going to happen while he is trapped."

"Why not?" Surprisingly it was not Medea, Artoria, Priscilla, or Glynda who asked the question. It was Diana. The amazon had been surprised by how much those words hurt to hear. She wasn't the only one surprised. The rest of the group turned to her, Emma included, and Wonder Woman fought a blush at their gaze. Then the White Queen started laughing. There was a hysteric and malicious edge to her laughter.

"Oh god, hahahaha, he got you too!" She giggled. "What great timing!"

"Rather than laughing," Scathach interrupted. Her voice was severe, though there was a bit of pain for those that paid attention. "It would be better for you to explain yourself."

"Right, hahaha, I suppose I should." Though Emma giggled a little more, shooting smug looks at Diana, she did calm down. "I suppose I should start with the baseline. Priscila!" The crossbreed perked up as she was addressed directly. "Mikael. Do you love him?"

"Ah," the dragon girl reacted with surprise to be asked so bluntly. After a moment, she managed to answer. "While mine Bard is rather fetching, I cannot say that love dost fill my chest upon thought of him." A few of the women of the Island, such as Artoria, Raven, and Medea, looked at the crossbreed in surprise. Emma simply nodded.

"And that Dragon outside? The massive one?" At the mutant's second question, Priscila flushed a deep red. She started fumbling with the tip of her tail, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "Never mind, that is answer enough."

"What was that supposed to show?" Glynda asked, patting the 'younger' girl on the shoulder. She continued to fiddle with her tail, the tips of her ears a deep scarlet.

"I'm trying to prove a point," Emma said seriously. The blonde stood and made her way toward one of the windows. "Priscila is never summoned, so her perspective isn't twisted. The man we are summoned to isn't Mikael. Not fully. It is a puppet piloted by him. A different puppet in every world. Mikeal is that!" The blonde pointed out over the ocean, white claws barely visible in the sun's light. Beyond those claws was a great white Dragon, larger than the British Isls.

A few of the women did not understand what she was getting at. They all knew the Dragon was Mikael's body. Medea was the first to understand what she was trying to convey.

"Dragon aura," the witch whispered in revelation.

"Mikael wraps around us, constantly bathing us in his aura." Emma smiled sardonically at the group, especially at Diana. "It can't control our mind, but it constantly tempts us. We can resist. Some of us have for a long time. But the second we give in, the second we think that falling in love with Mikael is acceptable and desirable; he has us. There is no escape at that point. By now, the last holdover I knew of has been captured. Unless any of you think eleven different women, with different preferences, all falling in love with the same man makes sense?"

Diana flushed, realizing what Emma was getting at. She hadn't realized the change until she looked back at it now. She had a favourable impression of their summoner for the longest time but had never really categorized him as a romantic interest out of solidarity with Artoria's intentions. Her most recent summoning had changed things.

"I fail to see how that is relevant to getting his romantic interest," Artoria spoke. She seemed uncaring for the revelation. "All of us working together should see greater success in wooing him."

"I'm trying to set a baseline," Emma explained. "I need you all to remember that, no matter that he was once human, Mikael is no longer one. He is a Dragon, millions of years old, and his mind and emotions reflect that."

"Stop stalling, Ice Queen," Yoruichi said, eyeing the mutant like a cat ready to pounce. "We already knew his elements drove you mad. We need other answers."

"His elements did not drive me mad," Emma shook her head. "They drove Mikael mad. They continue to do so. Specifically his Life element, not Freedom. The latter ensures he will always work towards his Freedom, but the former ensures he never forgets his previous 'life.' He remembers everything from his birth to his entrapment in his cell with crystal clarity as if carved into his brain. That is why he can never go hollow. His memories never fade. He knows with the bone-deep certainty that there is a world out there, a life he could be living, where he doesn't have to kill or die. With friends and family, a world far from pain. My madness is of a different sort. But you are right; I should just come out and say it. Mikael cannot fall in love with any of us because it is impossible for him to love us any more than he already does."

There were a few wide eyes at that. Medea grasped the meaning instantly, the witch recoiling as if struck. Glynda, sweet romantic Glynda, did not see the problem.

"Is that not mission accomplished then?"

"He's cursed," the greek witch said softly, her words carrying around the room. "Like Aphrodite did to me for Jason." There was a major inhale of breath as the other women realized the seriousness of the problem. Medea had not been shy about her sheer hatred for the gods and Jason for the experience.

"Well fuck," Yoruichi said succinctly. "Though if that is the case, I do not know why he is resisting so much. As shitty as it is, wouldn't he want to stay with us then? Rather than have us leave, I mean."

"If he had never realized the severity of the situation, he would have," Emma nodded, eyes glazed in memory. "But then I did something stupid. While he was still in the cell, I dived deep enough into his mind that I passed the avatar completely. I connected to the Dragon." The blonde mutant stopped talking, her eyes distant and mouth curling into a smile. Her eyes took on a faraway look, gazing past the room and the Island to the Dragon in the sky. There was a fire in them, a passion most of those gathered identified as fanaticism. This was a woman preaching about her god.

"You all cannot understand what it was like. That mind was so massive and grand. A being that rivals Galactus or the Pheonix, millions of years old. For a moment, just a moment, I was part of something beyond humanity. And it loved me. It was the kind of love of fairy tales. The all-consuming, passionate and gentle love that carves itself into legend. His every thought was bent on ensuring our safety and happiness. An experience like that, it changes a woman."

"It drove you mad," Raven said plainly. Emma did not respond, wiping the drool accumulated on her chin at the memory. "Not his elements."

"After he used a command seal to remove me from his mind, he asked me to tell him what I discovered. I was a bit frantic at that point, so I revealed everything. I just wanted to go back to that feeling." Emma looked a bit sheepish as she explained. "I should have been more circumspect. Once he discovered his mind and emotions had been tampered with without realizing it, that is when his elements really came into play. He bent his Freedom element to resisting his own mind and its urges. Every time we are summoned, his at war with himself. That is why he is so emotional in our presence. It is all he can do not to bend to our every whim. But he cannot ignore a direct order from us. If we were to tell him to sit still for an eternity? He would do so, his Freedom be damned."

"That is why he wanted to keep it a secret," Medea said. "If Jason did not know of his influence on me, many terrible things could have been prevented. You both devised the sanity lie to ensure I didn't use Rule Breaker."

"One of my suggestions. It was easy to pass on since it was close to the truth. Mikael initially wanted me to forget as well," Emma said, compelled by the lasso to bring the truth to light rather than let her previous lies remain. "His second order was to forget everything I saw in his mind. The only reason I know that is because I dove right back into his mind as soon as I realized my memories were tampered with. He had to use another to get me out, then another to ensure I never did it again. His final two were to order me to ensure I never used the influence we possess over him and to never reveal what we discovered. The last of which he just released me from."

"So he never healed you? Never ordered you to regain your sanity?" Robin asked, realizing she had been lied to multiple times. "Why not order you to forget again?"

"I found out instantly last time my memories were removed. My psychic abilities are not for show, you know? Rather than risk the same mistake, he went with another plan. You were right about Mikael being smart enough not to use a vague order like that." Emma shrugged, unconcerned about her previous lies. "He simply helped me work through what I felt in his mind the old-fashioned way. We sat and talked. He is no psychologist, but sometimes a sympathetic ear is all you need. I recovered enough to fake it. Mikael didn't notice the change in me since we were so new to each other then. I then offered myself as a co-conspirator. By the end, we not only had numerous different lies worked out when you all got curious about his shifting behaviour."

"And he never realized the depth of your change," Raven noted doubtfully. Emma shrugged again.

"So you've been lying to us this entire time," Tsunade spoke, eyes narrowed at her fellow blonde. "Why should we trust you now?"

"Because of this," Emma lifted her arm, the one wrapped in the Lasso of Truth. "Besides, all my plans are out the window. Lying now does nothing. You all would have realized the most crucial part as soon as Robin was summoned tonight."

"Why?" The pirate asked.

"Because, going forward, Mikael will use the same order whenever we are summoned now. 'Never command me!' He wants to ensure that now that we know we can control him, we will never be able to use our influence. He will refresh it every summoning in case Medea uses Rule Breaker to free us from the Command. We essentially have unlimited Command Seals with him. He wants to make sure we cannot use them."

"He does not trust us?" Artoria looked affronted as if the very idea of using her new influence was repulsive.

"You are still not getting where Mikael is coming from," Emma shook her head. "He knows his feelings for us are foreign, so he fights them. If they were not, he wouldn't have a problem. Even then, if he could convince himself he could fall in love with us, then maybe, just maybe, he could come to trust us. But ask yourself this; could any of you fall in love with someone you saw for a few hours once a year?" The room remained silent, aware of the answers in their hearts. "To us, he takes us on 'dates' every other day or so. To him? He has to take notes on any conversation we have so he doesn't forget them before the next time we are summoned."

"So what did you want, Ice Queen? You said you had a plan before this? What was it?" Yoruichi asked, trying to shift the subject slightly from her own blindness. The women had known for a while that time was different between the Island and Mikael, but they hadn't pieced together just how it would affect their romantic prospect.

"I want his babies," the mutant deadpanned. More than one of the women blushed at the thought, but Emma continued. "I want to follow him for eternity. I want to help him conquer worlds, travel the globe or the stars. I want him to marry me. To bend me over a desk and fuck me till I pass out. I want to bring him any women he finds attractive. I do not want to be left behind. If I can make my ex-husband," the mutant almost spat the words, "successful enough to run the greatest mutant school and team, then with Mikael, there is nothing he and I could not accomplish together."

The lasso continued to glow, ensuring the truth of her words. More than one woman had lost themselves in fantasy at her wishes, though a few had remained focused on the key concepts she hadn't addressed.

"I suppose we were some women you wanted him to bed?" Scathach did not seem affronted by the idea, but her tone was unimpressed. Emma simply shrugged. "Now we know why he is so insistent on leaving us behind. We are too much of a risk to him. You said we wouldn't be able to make him fall in love with us while the time difference is so great. How were you planning on fixing that issue yourself?"

"No matter when he gets free," Emma explained, "he will have to stop by the Island at least once to pick up all the supplies he has left here."

"The bottomless chests, they have all the arms and armour he could want," Medea said in realization, shaken from her fantasy of blue-eyed, brown-haired, pointy-eared children.

"And he will need to talk to Priscila," Emma nodded at the dragon girl. "Without knowing if someone he bit, bound rather than summoned, also exerts control over him, he will never be able to offer the benefits of the catalogue to anyone. Despite being tempted several times, he hasn't bound anyone since Priscila because he doesn't know if it will increase the chains around his neck."

"And when he is on the Island, we will have the opportunity to convince him without fear of the time disconnect," Scathach nodded. "It's a solid plan. How likely is it now? Does he still intend to return to the Island now that we know of our influence?"

"I don't know!" Emma whirled on Diana. "His mental shields are more substantial than any I have ever seen from those who are not immune. He must have been practicing using Mental Talent since the cell. Whatever trust he had with me is gone. I should never have gone along with your plan. He used to let me into his mind, so long as I did not connect to the Dragon. Now, I cannot access it at all."

"I am not sorry," Diana said, meeting the mutant's eyes. "While this turn of events is regretful, deception is no way to base a relationship. If we were to engage with him as equals, we needed to know this information. Now, should he come to trust us again, it will be knowing that we consciously choose not to exert our power over him."

"So long as he can trust us again," Emma snarled.

******

"God damn it, Gael!" I cursed, my back aching from the effort of moving so much dirt. Like all pain, it was slightly muted as an undead, but it was still annoying. Digging graves used different muscles than swinging weapons. I had used all my Estus in the fights, and even now, my wounds bled.

"You crotchety old bastard! Why did you have to be so stubborn?" I whipped my wet eyes. Stupid dust. "Aria's going to be sad now. She's been waiting for you. You lasted till the end of the bloody world! Why did you give in now! We didn't need all your blood at once. A bit at a time would have done the trick. Why didn't you listen to me?"

I spent the next twenty minutes making sure the grave was deep enough. The shifting sands did not make it easy, but I wasn't willing to let the man remain too close to the surface. I had no idea what else had survived to the End of the World, but the man I knew did not deserve to have his body desecrated.

Eventually, the hole was deep enough for me to feel safe enough to lower the body down. Gael's armour was rent and torn, his red hood only hung by tatters. Both his crossbow and sword had been split in the fight.

"You killed me six times," I said over his body. He looked peaceful in death. The bastard. "I haven't died that many times to a single enemy in centuries. Even the Nameless King only got me four times. You tough son-of-a-bitch."

Before I began the process of re-burying him, I gathered my magic. First, Repair his equipment. I had to cast it a few times, but eventually, he was good as new. Well, as good as I could make him. The greatsword was still heavily chipped and stained with blood. It was the only weapon he kept with him throughout his journey. The crossbow was covered with twists and dinks, rusted with blood, and made highly brittle from overuse. It had been modified to allow the Slave Knight to fight a host of foes alone. Both had been worn for so long that the damage and stains were part of their identity.

Then, I gathered my internal Flame into my hands. The Flame of my soul responded readily, as it had for the centuries I had wielded it. I cast Iron Flesh on the corpse. The spell was meant to be used on the caster, but my expertise let me adapt it to a new purpose.

Finally, I left the grave. Staring down at the Slave Knight, I gathered my last spell in my chest. It rose through my throat and out of my mouth. The White Dragon Breath spell wrapped the fallen man in crystal. His body would never decay, never be infected by parasites. I did not know what lay beyond the End of the World, but this was as good as I could do to ensure his rest was never disturbed.

Gael was the only one to last as long as I. He alone understood the weight of the years. Though I would outlive him, he had been a Slave Knight since before my summoning. He never hollowed and never waivered. He went against Gwyn, his previous master, to do what he felt was right.

"I'll make sure Aria is taken care of." I talked to both the corpse and the soul in my hand. I knew he couldn't hear me, but grieving was for the living, not the dead. "That's what I named your mistress since she didn't have one. I'll ensure she gets the blood, your soul, and finishes her painting. It will be a good home. I'll ensure she is cared for after I leave and that only good people find it."

I stared at the man for a moment, a lump in my throat.

"Stupid sand," I rubbed my eyes, clearing the wetness from them. "You broke my streak, you cunt-waffle. For three damn games, I've made sure everyone gets a happy ending of some sort. But you had to be damn stubborn. I hope you can rest. You did your duty."

Duty in the souls' games was a blessing and a curse. It gave the undead purpose, delaying their hollowing and pushing them forward. I had used it many times to ensure as happy an end as possible for those I could save.

I buried him, leaving only a small tombstone to mark the location. I carefully place the barrel full of blood of the Dark Soul into my bottomless box. It was marked, so I did not get confused with the other barrels full of my own blood. Unlike this ass-hat, I was smart enough to take a little bit at a time.

I would pass them on to the next woman summoned. I would have to consult my notes, but it was either Yoruichi or Raven. I always had trouble remembering the order of summonings. The time was coming, the energy bubbling up in my chest. I remembered Robin, I think she didn't have too many issues with the Command, but I would have to consult my notes again to ensure.

I started to walk away, back to the bonfire I could use to get back to Ariandel. I hummed under my breath, the only song I felt appropriate for Gael's dirge.

"When once, long ago
I was worn down and abused
The strongest took the spoils
And then we fell at their shoes
But now they are gone
And my sanity's kept by my chains
So I bear them both in faith and hate
For family and all that remains."

I left the tombstone at the end of the world, knowing no one would ever find it without my help.

'Here lies Gael'
'The Red Hood was the last of man to fall'
'Finaly released from his duty'

******

"How is she?" I asked, eyeing the pale girl sitting before the canvas. The flames licked the room though they did not burn the wood. They did fill the church attic with a heat haze, however.

"As ever, my lord," Sirris responded. "She has awaited your return most eagerly."

"Did you need to fight any of Corvians?" I had worried that the crow-like people would disturb Aria and my knight. I'm sure some remnants of Friede's followers were out there somewhere. I knew Aria would not die, but she could be imprisoned again.

"Nay, they stayed well clear of the chapel."

"Thank you, Sirris," I patted her on the shoulder. She shifted awkwardly at the touch. Undead could not feel pleasure in the touch of others. Most stayed away from each other due to paranoia that anyone could turn hollow at any moment.

"I simply do as you will, My Lord."

"I know, and I appreciate it," I said as I walked passed her towards the small woman in front of the canvas. "Your duty is not a thankless one. You are the knight protecting the hope of this world." 'When I cannot,' went unsaid.

That was only part of the truth. When Sirris had sworn herself into my service, she did not know I would put her to work so quickly. Protecting Aria was important, but giving the undead a task they could focus on also kept them from hollowing. The happiest end I could give Sirris without binding her to me for eternity and possibly placing another shackle on my neck.

"My thanks, Ashen One," Aria said as I lay the barrel of blood beside her. "With this will I paint a world. I would name this painting after thee as thou hast named me."

"Don't," I said, shaking my head. "Where I come from, Mikael means 'like god.' This is a world for man and should be named after one." I pulled Gael's soul from my box and presented it to her.

"I see," Aria stared at the dark, pulsing soul for a moment before returning to the canvas. "Keep it. Uncle would want you to have it. This painting, twill be a cold, dark, and very gentle place. One day, it will make someone a goodly home. Then I will name this painting 'Gael.'"

"A good name. Goodbye, Aria," I ruffled her hair as I walked away. Before leaving via bonfire, I turned to my knight one final time.

"Sirris of the Sunless Realms!" I said imperiously.

"My Lord!" She saluted in the manner of the dark moon, kneeling on the floor with her hand outstretched.

"I shall hold you to your oath," I continued, fighting to keep my face stoic and commanding. I wasn't one for a ceremony, but I did have a flair for dramatics. "Your final and greatest duty is thus; You are to guard Aria until the painting is complete. Once so, you are to take it to Firelink. All those who currently reside there have my full trust. You are to ensure they and Aria enter this new world. You may also bring in Yorshka, should she wish it. You shall then hide the painting so no unworthy may ever find it."

"Where shall that be, my Lord?"

"Use this homeward bone," I presented it to the kneeling knightess, who took it slowly. "I have attuned it to a bonfire at the ends of time. There you will find a grave. Place the painting at its foot. You are then to enter and begin your endless vigil. You will ensure that this new world is forever peaceful and Aria remains safe and happy. This is your duty. Can I entrust it to you, my knight?"

"Your will be done, My Lord," I nodded imperiously once more and turned away. I barely heard her whisper. "Thank you."

I teleported out, wiping the wetness from my eye. Stupid smoke.

*****

I reappeared in Firelink Shrine. I still had a few loose ends to take care of. The Firekeeper waived at my arrival, and I waved back, but she would be my last stop here.

My first stop was hidden in the rafters of the shrine.

"I swear, if you try and kick me down this ledge one more time, I'm going to feed you your own spear," I said, twisting away from Patches' kick. The bald man tried to ambush me regularly, knowing that the fall wouldn't kill me.

"Tiss just a joke," he grinned, unrepentant as ever. "You know, you get these...urges...running the business and all...Oh, and I hate myself for it, I do."

"That was one of your earliest excuses," I retorted, falling into the old rhythm. "You used it five years ago. Try and be a bit more creative with your next victim, alright?"

"So you intend to relight the fire," he asked, suddenly serious.

"No way," I responded. I had served as kindling for it twice already. No thank you! "Fuck the gods, fuck the fire, and fuck this Age."

"Aye, my friend, fuck them all," Patches' grinned. Despite his kicking habit, which he hadn't kicked yet, (ha) we got along pretty well. There was a reason that, despite using everything at my disposal, I had never been able to cast a miracle in my life.

"Listen," I said. "I'm going to change this world, put the flame out of its misery. I do not know what it will look like after that. I've taken steps to give everyone a chance. Soon Sirris, you remember her? Anyway, she'll be by with a painting. You all should enter it. I need you to make sure everyone goes in as well."

"When you say, everyone..." Patches grimaced, his question unfinished.

"Everyone that is currently here except for Yuria. She'll never leave the new age." His grimace deepened, but I remained insistent. "Yes, that includes Eygon and Irina. I know clerics aren't the best, but they haven't done anything to deserve being left behind."

"Fine, fine," he waved me away. At his core, I knew Patches' dislike for the gods and their clerics was due to how much they had fucked humanity over. I should trust in his good nature, for all he was tricky, Patches had retained his humanity for longer than most were alive.

I left him there with a final goodbye. I then bid adieu to Greirat, the Hag, Cronyx, Eygon and Irina. I told them everything about the painting and the coming age I could. They had been with me for the last seven years since I first set foot in the shrine. I owed them a lot. My second to last stop before the Firekeeper was at Karla's little alcove.

"I know not why you would offer such an opportunity to I, wretched child of the Abyss that I am." She said after I had given her the same information I had the others. "This new world of yours would be better without one such as I."

"Did I ever tell you about the legends of another child of the Abyss?" I asked rhetorically. "She became a queen, you see. Of a kingdom of ice and ivory. She had intended to lead it to ruin as her sisters did the same to other kingdoms."

"Ay," Karla nodded gravely. "Children of the abyss bring naught but suffering to those around."

"But then there was a twist," I continued, ignoring her interruption. "The king she was meant to drive to ruin, she fell in love with him. Though he would eventually perish, Alsanna would remain to watch over his last work. She alone would ensure that his legacy and kingdom would remain safe."

"What is the purpose of you telling me such a fable?"

"Because she was not the only Daughter of the Abyss to find love," I said seriously. I reached into my box, withdrew a finger-thin book, and presented it to Karla.

"What is this? A new tome for me to unravel?" Karla asked. Opening the first page, she froze.

"In a way," I said, starting to walk away. "It's the notes of Zullie the Witch, Daughter of the Abyss. It records her notes on spells, her experiences with her lover Alva, and a message to their daughter." She didn't move or respond, staring at the first page.

I left her alcove. Some things were meant to be kept private.

I did not go far. Andres' blacksmith station was only a few feet away.

"That was a kind thing you did," the grey-haired man said, his voice a deep rumble. For once, he wasn't working on something.

"How much did you overhear?"

"Enough," the old blacksmith said simply. "That knight girl will be by with a painting, and I should enter it. I imagine they will need weapons and armour in this new world as this one did."

"That's the long and short of it," I nodded. I stared at Andre for a moment; I wanted to say so many things. In the end, he wouldn't remember. Patches didn't either. So I turned away to go meet the Firekeeper. "Take care of yourself, Andre."

"You remind me of someone, lad." I stopped. "A young kid I knew an age ago. Could barely fight. Broke all his weapons. Begged me to teach him how to care for his favourite halberd properly. A hopeless case all around. I expected him to go hollow in a week."

"And? What's your point?" I asked, keeping the knot in my throat out of my voice.

"Funny thing is, he stuck around." Andre continued. "For decades, he kept coming back to have me work on his arms and armour. That scrawny kid managed to kill Gwyn himself. He was the first Lord of Cinder after the Lord of Sunlight. Linked the fire and everything."

"Sounds like an idiot. Only idiots link the fire." I started to walk away again, my feet heavy.

"Ay," Andre rumbled a chuckle. "He was kind of an idiot. But the good kind, the kind with the best intentions. You could tell every time you talked to him. Whenever he walked away, he would tell everyone the same thing. It showed he cared."

I kept walking away.

"Don't you dare go hollow, Mikael!"

Stupid ash, getting in my eyes.

******

I hated the end of the souls' games.

When I was alive, I hated them because it meant the game was over. There were no more lands to see. Lore diving and the new game plus were always fun, but the sheer enjoyment of beating one of the games for the first time was over.

Here, the end of the game was a process that took me years, decades even. It was the culmination of a long journey. It was one step closer to the Freedom I so craved. But it also meant it was time to say goodbye to all those who had been with me on my journey. Most I was able to give a happy ending to, in one form or another. There were, of course, some exceptions but, by and large, I liked to think I left each world a slightly better place than I found it.

I hoped this would be the last goodbye.

Maybe I would have to go through Demon Souls or Bloodborne after this, but I hoped this would be the last time.

As I watched the silver portal dissolve, taking Yoruichi and my bottomless box to an island paradise I had never seen, I regretted the necessity of it all.

I regretted having to bind the women with seals for my peace of mind. I knew most would never think to use their power over me. I knew that many had professed their love for me. Something like that sticks with you over the centuries. I knew they might even mean it. I also knew that, though they had the best intentions, it would only take one careless sentence, one stray thought on their part, and I would die.

Emma hadn't known that telling me to 'Sit still and let me in!' in a moment of frustration would have me paralyzed. I sat there, unable to move, unable to do anything as a foreign mind violated my most sacred of places. Only when she connected to the Dragon was her order considered fulfilled, and I could move again.

The next time it happened, there was a chance it wouldn't be my body controlled. My personality whipped away, my body being driven by someone with my memories, but who wouldn't be me. Call me paranoid if you wish, but I was staring down the nozzle of a Russian Roulette game that never ended. A slip was all it took. Someone getting frustrated and saying something like 'Change!' or 'Don't lie to me!' Statistics told me it was a mathematical certainty, whether it happened in a century or an eon.

No, thank you. Better to not take the risk at all.

I turned from where the silver portal once was and faced off the Kiln of the First Flame.

On my way to the dreg heap, I had been here before, but the sight was still as beautiful. I never got to see a total eclipse while alive, so that was a new experience I could enjoy. It was more visible here than anywhere else in the kingdom. Red flowers dotted the ash that filled the area. Swords and other weapons rose like grave markers. I wondered if Miyazki took inspiration from a particular work of unlimited blades.

The area did not look like a kiln anymore, more a crater of molten slag and ash.

I still shuddered in phantom pain. For a moment, I was burning again. A fire that reached my soul and never ended. A lonely pain that lasted for thousands of years, no matter how much I begged it to end.

I blinked, and the fire was gone. I was once more alone on a field of cinders.

Yuria had attempted to come along or offer one of her hollows as support.

I had declined.

This was between me and the First Flame.

*******

I do not know how long the battle raged on.

The Soul of Cinder towered over me, twice my height. It changed patterns again in a burst of flame, the sword shifting into a talisman. It leaped away and cast miracles to repel me and heal itself. I dodged the bolt of lightning, but it remained stationary long enough for me to shift to my bow. An enchanted arrow took it in the eye. It howled, sword shifting to a rapier and lunging at me. I managed to put the bow away and draw my Irithyll sword in time to block. The flames of its blade met the ice of mine in a burst of steam.

I had cut off a limb no less than twelve times, impaled it ten times, and separated its head from its neck thrice. I wasn't sure how many times it had died and reformed, but it was over fifty. Whenever the damage reached a certain threshold, it would call upon a new Lord's memory, and the battle would continue. If there was one benefit, it was that it could only call upon one memory at a time. I had already gone through reenactments of my struggle with Yorm, the Abyss Watchers, and Aldritch. I suspected it followed a set pattern, reaching back further and further.

I parried one of its thrusts, impaling its face upon my white blade.

It lept away to reform, and I took the opportunity to down my last Estus flask. We had been fighting for hours. I hadn't died yet, but I probably would if this continued for long.

Fortunately, the end was in sight.

"Oh, you son of a bitch," I cursed. Lava gathered in my palm as the Soul of Cinder's armour shifted to the Elite Knight Set, and a familiar Black Knight Halberd formed in its hands. "Joke's on you, you cum-guzzling fuck-tard."

I launched the chaos flame at the Soul's head. It battered it away with MY halberd but left itself open from below. I bashed my shield upwards, knocking the weapon from its hand. I had left my own behind, so I grabbed the burning blade from the air, spun it, and impaled it into the Soul of Cinder's groin. I jumped away, returning to my Irithyl sword.

"Ha!" I shouted, raising my middle finger at the burning bastard. "Back then, I sucked at keeping track of people below my eye line." The Soul let loose another wordless roar, releasing another enormous fire blast signifying a shift.

I had been expecting this one from the start.

A great sword in one hand, the other empty but crackling with lightning. Flames wrapped around his head like a crown. No longer a hollow imitation.

As he was when he first entered the Kiln, Gwyn, Lord of Sunlight, stood before me.

"You've caused me a lot of grief, you bastard. But that's fine," I dodged a bolt of lightning the size of my torso. "I'm going to take it out of your ass."

******

"Well done, my Lord of Hollows," Yuria said as I rose from usurping the Fire. It burned in my chest, my Darksign pulsing in an unfamiliar way but radiated contentment and power.

"Thanks," I said simply. I had half hoped to be summoned away as soon as I completed the little ritual that ended the Age of Fire. Dozens of hollows had already gathered, only a few of which I recognized.

"What now?" Anri asked. I had gotten her on board with this little 'age of hollows' thing by promising her help with Aldridge. While the 'wedding' ritual was unpleasant, it had been consensual. Otherwise, I would have told Yuria to take a long walk off a short pier.

I stepped to Anri's side, whispering in her ear, so we were not overheard.

"If you ever wish to leave it all behind," I whispered, subtly pressing a homeward bone into her hand. "Use this and touch the painting nearby."

"My lord?" Yuria asked in worry. I'm sure she was concerned with my odd action. I smiled at her, waving her concerns away as I stepped a bit away from Anri. I couldn't remember the last time I had gotten the chance to pull a prank like this.

"Can you hold this?" I had pulled the green Sword of Avowal from a side box and presented it to Anri. I had passed my main box on to Yoruichi, but I had kept this one for just this occasion.

"I would rather not," despite saying so, my 'wife' took the hilt I presented to her.

No sooner had she a grip on the hilt than I lunged forward, its green blade angled in such a way to bypass my ribs and get my heart.

"MY LORD!"

I heard voices shout in panic, but I couldn't pay attention to them. Based on my experience, being impaled in the heart only gave me a few seconds.

"Sorry," I said through a bloody smile at Anri's shocked face. The dark sigils flowed out of me and into her.

As did the Flame.

I wouldn't be around long enough to be a good lord, but Anri could give it a go if she wanted. I did not know if this Age of Hollows would be a good thing or a bad one, but it deserved the chance to grow.

As hands pulled me from the blade, the familiar darkness of death welcomed me.

Would this finally be my last breath?

It had been so long.

********

I gasped, shooting to my feet.

As far as deaths go, that one was gentler than most. Reformation, though, was always a shock to the system. Going from no sensation to feeling everything was disorienting in the extreme. More than that, I was getting much more sensory feedback than I was used to.

That was good. It meant my body was no longer undead. I was tempted to revel in it for a moment, but centuries of combat taught me the importance of time and place.

I looked around, not recognizing my new surroundings.

I was in some sort of chapel. Destroyed furniture littered the ground, spider webs covered the walls, and nature crept up through the floorboards. I was naked because of course I was, but a handy corpse was nearby.

I hoped whatever killed the woman wasn't still around. The cloth didn't fit me, but I was able to repurpose it by tearing the sleaves off and fashioning a loincloth from the dress. Better than nothing. The only thing she had in her pocket was a discoloured finger.

This wasn't how either Demon's Souls, Sekiro or Bloodborne started. But I was hopeful. Who knew what led beyond that door?

Pushing the old wood away, one thing grabbed my eyes instantly. It wasn't the storm clouds in the sky, the ruins around me, or the massive castle in the distant fog.

My eyesight was dominated by the gargantuan golden tree that filled the horizon. I collapsed to my knees as I recognized it from the trailers. Despair filled me as laughter bubbled out of my mouth. I couldn't help the curse that escaped me as my laughter entered the bounds of hysterics.

Elden Ring was the one Fromsoft game I never got to play.

"Well, I'm fucked."

*******

I'm releasing this extra long chapter as an early birthday present to myself. I thought about splitting it but since it marks the end of part 3 and the beginning of part 4 (the last part of Volume 1) I decided to leave it at that. We'll be leaving the Island women for a bit, though I will go back to their perspectives eventually but the next part of the story can only be told from Mikael's perspective. I had originally not used it before because it didn't add anything to it. Most of us are very familiar with Dark Souls so rehashing the same story would just pad out an already long volume. I'm really excited about what's to come.

PS:
Here they are for those curious about the 'happy endings' he gave in DS1.

Rescued Solair and helped him complete his quest in his world.
Saved Dusk (DLC included)
Dragged Laurentius to Quelana personally.
With Laurentius' aid, dragged Quelana to her sisters so Mikael could 'save' all three.
Followed Rhea to save her from Petrus and Patches.
Kicked Lautrec off a cliff
Tricked Seigward into 'saving' Mikael, so he didn't feel useless.
Brought Seigland to her father before he went hollow.
Reunited Ciaran and Hawkeye and gave them Artoria's soul.
Snuck by Sif to get the ring without killing him (using the spells taught by Dusk)
He didn't kill Gwyndolin, thus didn't kill the knightess. The illusion was never broken.
The only one he couldn't 'save' was Oscar, who had long gone hollow by the time he got out of the cell.
 
Desolation 1
Set fire to all your maps,
forget how it's always been.
We're explorers of the heart,
learning to dream again.
The adventure of a lifetime,
with love alone as our guide.
Exotic places beyond imagination --
ones we've longed for deep inside.

********

"What do you think, Steve? Am I completely fucked or just a little fucked?"

I sat at the Elden Ring equivalent of a bonfire in a dimly lit cave. The small pile of bark was illuminated by a golden glow in shape similar to the humanity sprites of the last series. The only other light was the small remnants of my fire. The cave had been well ventilated enough to allow me to set up a cooking pit for my meal.

"On the one hand, not undead anymore, so; Yay. Being able to eat, sleep, and drink again is great. Fairy feast is proving its weight in gold, buddy, though I imagine you wouldn't care. Wild Talent is also a lifesaver. I've done some survival camping before, but never in such a hostile environment."

After my rebirth and discovery of my new predicament, it had taken some time to get out of my funk. I eventually explored the area where I had appeared. I had been on a shrine on top of a cliff in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. As a Soulsborne game, I was naturally ambushed by a two-meter-tall spider made out of bodies, limbs, death, and hatred. The thing had probably come from the massive castle nearby, maybe washed ashore from the ocean.

I will be avoiding that place for a while yet.

"On the other hand, Steve, pain is much more real now. I have always felt it before, but it was a distant thing. Like I was on low-grade pain killers. Now, nothing is muting it. Also, I get hungry and tired and thirsty, and I forgot how much it sucks having to go to the bathroom all the time."

After managing to kill Jerry, Frankenstein extraordinaire, by the skin of my teeth, I looted its sword and shield. Better equipped, I set off on a further exploration of my new locale.

I then died as the cliff crumbled under me, casting me down into the ocean. The impact of the fall was enough to shatter my new, unenhanced form. I thankfully awoke near my new weapons, the waves washing me to shore in a cave below some sort of grave.

"On the upside again, the scenery is spectacular. I can't remember the last time I enjoyed travelling. I always had to watch for a random undead or something to stab me in the back. The wild animals are a pain," I patted the carcass of one of the wolves that had made this cave their home, "but they are wild. They aren't out to get me in particular. I just looked tasty. 's only fair that I get to eat them in return, though they were a bit gamey."

Climbing out of my grave, I was met with some white masked fellow. The vibes I was getting from him were shifty as fuck. He was covered in blood, was waiting for me, and knew I was 'maidenless.' (Coincidently, I woke up near a dead maiden, gee I wonder if there's a connection here, Miyazaki!) I got what information I could and hightailed it out of there.

"Back down we go, Steve. Without a maiden of some sort, I cannot learn how to channel Runes." I could feel the power within me, just out of reach. I had accumulated quite a number over the last month, though I lost a good chunk due to my death. "I also don't know if this is how the game is supposed to start. Will I get that horse? I will need something if I want to finish this within the next century."

I explored for a few hours after that, vaguely heading toward the ocean. There had been a ruined building far in the distance, but I had noticed some knight guarding it. He didn't look like someone I wanted to tangle with without some good armour and a spell or five.

"Also, on the downside, I need to get to someplace called 'Roundtable?' Very Camelot-sounding place. I'm sure it isn't shady in the least. At least Artoria will get a kick out of it. But she's months away," I paused, trying to gather old memories. "I think. Without my notes, it is hard to tell. Whoever is summoned tomorrow should be able to answer at least that. You'll like them, Steve. They're all gorgeous. Though some of them are real headcases."

I managed to find the ocean, the easy part, but I hadn't found any new information. The occasional wild animal had been my only encounter. I had laughed myself silly the first time I saw those sheep roll like Sonic. The ram of the wild herd took the opportunity to ram (ha) me, but I got my revenge.

He was delicious.

"Also, also, on the downside is that massive fuck-off castle nearby. That Varre was a bit of a cunt, but at least he told me about the nearby demi-god. I don't know about you, Steve, but someone called the 'Grafted' sounds like the type of person to make a spider out of human limbs and suffering. Not going anywhere near that place for a while. I'm immortal, but dying still hurts, and I do not want to be one of the ingredients in a spider hot pot."

Unfortunately, my journey along the coast ended with my second death. Maybe Miyazaki got infected with the tentacle bug that seemed to infect everyone in Japan. Perhaps it was a Bloodborne holdover. There was no other reason for something like that land octopus to exist. I killed a dozen little ones and one of the larger forms before the tentacles of two more big ones got me. I felt like a Japanese school girl for a bit. Thankfully they killed me pretty quickly.

I had never been so happy to die.

"Also, on the downside, cubed." I blinked, realizing what I had just said and apologized. "I'm sorry, Steve, that was a math joke you couldn't get. Like everything else here, you originally were only two-dimensional. Can you forgive my insensitivity? You can? Great!" I giggled to myself a little but continued to vent.

"Anyway, and this is the real kick in the pants here. What can I trust now? If I had been summoned to Demons' Souls or Bloodborne, I could see it as a continuation of the 'Soulsborne' option I chose. But Elden Ring hadn't even been released yet. So that leads to some questions; Will I ever be released? Do I need to fulfill some sort of requirement? Or will I go through Fromsoft games, even those released later until the end of time?"

I thankfully respawned at the site of Grace. I had been worried about being mortal for a moment. I also still had my weapons and what clothes I had scrounged up. Unfortunately, the last site of Grace had been outside the grave I had washed up at. Varre was absent, but I decided to avoid the beaches for a while. Instead, I set off northwards. I continued avoiding that big guy on a horse because fuck that noise.

I found my way to the cliffside after a few days of travel. I found a grove and this cave nearby. I then killed the wolves that called it home and found Steve.

I didn't quite know what Steve was, besides being my new best friend and a great listener, but I suspected he had been sapient. He had wielded a weapon for one and wore clothes. On the other hand, he looked like someone partially skinned a hyena and forced it to walk on two legs.

I'll just call him a beastman for now.

Of more interest was the cave itself. While it had been littered with animal and man bones, it also bore signs of more recent habitation. There were bodies of soldiers, still clad in their armour and relatively fresh. Barrels and boxes of supplies were present, as were the smouldering remnants of fires.

From what I could piece together, these guys were soldiers of one of the Demi-gods. They all wore the same uniform, and the heraldry was still intact, so they weren't deserters. The soldiers had been using this cave system as a base. Maybe as a resupply station, maybe to spy on the castle if they were a foreign force. Then Steve came along with his wolf pack. They killed everyone, ate a few, and then I wandered in and did the same to them.

A real dog-eat-dog world.

Puns asside, this had some implicaitons. First of all, a standardized uniform and heraldry were signs of civilization and sanity. You couldn't take care of your arms and armour if you were mad. This meant there was organization, coordination, and oversight. This, in turn, meant extensive resources, supply lines and infrastructure. All good things for the health of a country.

The problem was that one of my most significant advantages during my time in Dark Souls had been that I kept my sanity, and others did not. They moved by instinct and habit, which I could exploit. I couldn't count on my enemies here doing the same. Unless I was willing to suborn myself to a higher power, which I wasn't, then I would be opposing a country mobilized for war by myself.

From what I remembered of the trailers of Elden Ring? I would be facing numerous countries too. There were multiple demi-god children, and I should probably count on each of them having a faction of some sort to help them become Elden Lord. Either that or they were so badass that they didn't need a faction to be a viable threat to the others.

"You know Steve," I asked rhetorically. "I think I am wholly fucked after all. But let's break it down to a problem I can solve first. Let's try and find this Roundtable Hold. Maybe someone there can teach me how to turn these Runes into strength. That a good first step?" Silence. "Thanks, I thought so too. Good talking to you, Steve. This has been the best conversation I've had in weeks. I'm going to hit the hay. 'Night."

I lay on the bed mat covered in a mound of wolf furs that was my bed for the evening. With a roof over my head, traps at the entrance, and a warm fire beside me, this was the most relaxed I'd been since coming to the Lands Between.

I was offloading my problems on Tomorrow Me, but he could handle it. I trusted him.

Not like Past Me. That guy always screwed me over.

I fell asleep pretty quickly, all things considered. I had a lot of Z time saved after all. My weapon and armour were close at hand, but I wasn't worried about an ambush due to the defences I put up. My only source of disquiet was that Steve wouldn't stop staring.

Even that didn't keep me up too long, and I eventually entered Morpheus' arms under the vacant stare of the dead beastman.

***********

Melina sighed to herself as she watched the tarnished converse with the air.

"All I know is that something called the Elden Ring was broken, which led to a war for its remnants or some such." The man paused as if listening to the other side of a conversation. After a few seconds, he continued. "I don't know if it's an actual ring, a location, a person, or some sort of great Rune. That's the soul equivalent here, by the way. Runes. Everybody has them, and everybody wants them. Only I can't use them as power. I'm apparently 'maidenless' or something."

She had remained astralized with Torrent for the last month, content to evaluate this new arrival in the lands before committing to an accord. Torrent was very favourable to the man, but Melina would rather have some assurance that the tarnished was capable at the least.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." The warrior deadpanned. "Your lips aren't moving, but I can tell when you're laughing, Raven. I can appreciate the irony, yes. An ocean of women around me but nothing to drink. Attractive women throw themselves at my feet, but I am eternally maidenless. Feel free to tell the others. I'm sure Yoruichi will get a kick out of it if no one else does."

He had seemed so promisingly too.

A capable warrior and one of good discernment if his treatment of Varre was anything to go off of.

The following weeks also showed favourable results. Though he headed not to Stormveil, he demonstrated good woodcraft knowledge. Too often, soldiers and fighters could only function when they did not have a host of followers to help them with the lesser tasks. His self-sufficiency was laudable. Even his recent death to the land octopi was not a demerit in Melina's eye. They were an odd creature only found on the shores of the Lands Between. The tarnished's quick recuperation was more impressive than anything else.

"Anyway, back to the problem at hand. I have no idea how long this is going to take. You could all be on the Island for months, if not years. Elden Ring was supposed to be their largest game ever and, from what I remember of the trailers, take place over countries. It is essentially about various demi-god kings throwing their forces at each other to see who can be the new god." Melina's prospective champion summarized the current situation succinctly if a bit simply.

But as the weeks progressed, the man's idiosyncrasies started to be more and more apparent. He was lonely. That was plain. He alleviated his loneliness with song sometimes. (Melina would never admit to falling from Torrent's spectral back in awe the first time she heard him sing) But sometimes, the man would talk to himself. That wasn't an issue, per se, but the topics were worrisome.

"I'll need a mount for sure, just due to the distances. Thankfully, I have some horse experience, and Wild Talent should cover the rest. Of more concern is the lack of knowledge. I could only finish the other games so quickly because I generally knew what I was supposed to do. Even if the world was bigger than expected, I knew which steps to take. I'm flying blind here. My best guess is to walk up to the foot of the giant golden tree and proclaim myself God-king."

The tarnished used terms such as 2-dee, level-design, NPC, and others that Melina did not recognize, though some she could intuit. The tarnished kept referring to the Lands Between as a game of some sort. All tarnished were a bit off, but this one seemed even more touched in the head than most. More concerning were his religious beliefs.

Melina had never heard of a Deity called 'Miyazaki,' but it must be a vengeful and terrible one judging by the man's cursing.

"The castle, Stormveil, I heard it called, might be an excellent first stop for information if nothing else. The only problem is the well-armed and coordinated army in a fortified position between me and it. I would take those odds with a good weapon, some planning, my spells and pyromancies, and some good old-fashioned sabotage. But I can't get any stronger without a 'maiden' or until someone teaches me how to channel these Runes into power."

The tarnished's odd behaviour reached a tipping point last night. His fighting ability was undiminished as he slew the pack of wolves and the Azula Beastman that led them. But then he spent hours talking to the corpse, calling it Steve (what a peculiar name) and acting as if it responded.

It was a testament to Melina's desperation that she did not abandon the tarnished right then.

"I'm going to keep bumming around this area for a bit, maybe do my best bandit impersonation while I try and gather some information. A map, if nothing else. I really do not want to fuck myself over by doing something stupid when I don't know up from down. I'm sure I can find a military outpost or camp nearby. These guys had to come from somewhere, and I might be able to use their uniform to sneak in by posing as a lone survivor."

This morning Melina was almost ready to abandon the man altogether, Torrent's recommendation be damned, when he started talking to thin air. Only two things stayed on her feet. First of all, Torrent refused to leave. No matter how the kindling maiden prodded or cajoled him, he would not leave this tarnished's side.

The second reason was that Melina was really that desperate.

She had been waiting centuries while Queen Marika's children vied for the Elden Ring for a tarnished worthy of becoming Elden Lord. She had considered throwing in her lot with the Deathbed Companion, Sir Gedeon, or even the Ever Brilliant Goldmask. But those tarnished did not need her. They had their own factions and backing, their own maidens. All Melina could offer was a simple service of channelling Runes and Torrent's whistle.

So the woman was stuck with this mad man.

Where else would she find a tarnished still blessed by Grace, who lacked a Maiden and wasn't part of any existing faction?

So Melina stuck around, watching the crazy tarnished talk to his imaginary friend for hours. At one point, they left the cave system, and the woman followed as he pointed out the Erd Tree, the nearby grove, and Stormveil, barely visible in the distance. She barely paid half a mind to his mad ramblings about an island, other women, and seals of some sort.

"And this is Steve," the tarnished said grandly, gesturing to the fly-ridden corpse of the beastman. "I'm sure there are many more like him, but this one is mine. He is my oldest friend. We go way back. It seems like only yesterday we first met." He paused again, listing to the fictitious woman. "I have no idea. I was hoping one of you ladies could tell me. Maybe have Tsunade do an autopsy or something. I have another bag of goodies too." He gestured to a crude sack made from animal hide filled with odds and ends he had found. "Some examples of the local flora and fauna. Some odd items I found in this cave that the soldiers had in supply. Whatever you can tell me about them would be good."

Melina was ready to tune the one-sided conversation out again when the tarnished got a surprised look on his face. For a moment, he looked lost and confused, then focused. As if he had been presented with an unexpected question, he sat for a moment in serious contemplation.

"I suppose I am in a good mood," he said. He sounded surprised, though he smiled. "I guess I am just excited, is all." Whatever his imaginary companion said next seemed to take some of the levity out of his face. "I will never stop! Not till I'm free!" He suddenly snarled in anger. Despite being immaterial and invisible, Melina took a step away from the sudden show of rage. It was only for a moment, then the tarnished calmed again.

"Sorry, Raven," he sounded sorry but at the same time defiant. "You just pushed a raw button there. For a moment, I thought I was free. I had killed the Soul of Cinder, and I was alive. I thought I had achieved my dream. That I could put all the bad times behind me. Then I saw the tree, and it came crashing down again." He listened for a long moment, almost an entire minute, before speaking again.

"I suppose I am happy because this is the first time I can look forward to an adventure. Don't get me wrong, I am sure it will suck a good portion of the time. I have no idea where to go. I'm facing down against multiple countries and gods. I also have no guarantee that I will ever get stronger than I am now. Despite all that, I am excited.

"Dark Souls was a duty I had to fulfill. I learned a lot and made some excellent memories, even if they were few and far between, but I never looked forward to anything beyond getting it over with. That's because I knew everything that was standing between my Freedom and me. I had done it all before, even if it was only a game. There was nothing new. Now, I look at the horizon and have no clue what lays beyond it. This new journey could take me another fifty years, or even a hundred, but it is just that. New. My Freedom is important, but it was always meant to be a tool to facilitate adventure."

There was a moment of silence before the tarnished smiled sardonically. "Besides, if I know Miyazaki, I'll be facing down six poisonous swamps, abominations from beyond time and space, crippling heartbreak, and more deaths than a World War. I'm sure I'll be thrown against the biggest badasses of this world too. I can't guarantee a happy ending for anyone, not even myself. That's exciting in its own way, isn't it? If I remember correctly, Artoria once told me I had achieved the Throne of Heroes thrice over. I never felt like it. I was going through the motions. With the Talents and a guarantee of never going hollow? Given enough time, I literally could never fail. Now? One man against armies, countries, demi-gods, gods, and who knows what else? No guarantee of success? That sounds like a Legend worth telling."

Melina felt something at his words.

This tarnished was clearly deluded, mad, and more than a little crazy. But for that instant, she believed she was standing in front of someone worthy of the title of Lord.

Then he tossed the beastman carcass and the full sack into the air for no reason.

They both disappeared as if passing through an invisible door.

For a moment, the kindling maiden stood there blinking in disbelief before Torrent bumped his head against her shoulder. She turned to the spectral steed and whispered to her companion furiously. Her face was flushed in embarrassment though she was still imperceivable to the tarnished's eyes.

"So he is not completely mad, that doesn't mean you are right!"

*******

"Greetings. Traveller from beyond the fog. I am Melina. I offer you an accord."

"Jesus!" The tarnished jumped from his seat beside the site of Grace in surprise at her appearance. He had taken refuge for the night in the camp of Godrick's soldiers after slaying all who had inhabited it. She chose, in a moment of whimsy, to appear behind him. "Where did you come from, lady?"

"Forgive me. I've been...following you. To see whether or not Grace truly does guide you." Among other things. She had prepared this script ages ago and wouldn't let this half-mad tarnished ruin it. "And...whether you are fit to face the challenge that entails. It seems my worries were unfounded."

"You've been following me?" He asked slowly. "For how long?"

"Since finding you washed up in the caves under the hero's grave."

"So you've been following me for three months? And you've seen everything?" He clearly looked amused at the idea. Melina flushed.

"Yes! And you should be ashamed of yourself!"

The tarnished laughed at her embarrassment.

That set the tone for their decades-long relationship.

********

When I reflect on my time in the Lands Between, with all its wonder and the heartbreak, I feel like I can separate it into four broad periods. While the later parts were tinged by the tragedies I had come to expect in Fromsoft games, I remember that first decade as some of the happiest times of my life.

I mostly stuck around Limgrave and the Weeping Peninsula, avoiding Stormveil and its Demi-god.

Torrent was a godsend and a half. He was the best boi, hands down. (He was, yes he was. Robin agreed. She was so jealous when they met, and she couldn't pet him.) A horse as immortal as myself was necessary when Limgrave was the size of Germany alone.

Melina told me that other countries and challenges existed between the Erd Tree and me, but I put that terrible thought aside to enjoy the adventure. As expected of Fromsoft, the Lands Between was full of interesting characters.

**

"A pleasure to meet thee, Tarnished. I am the witch Renna. I'd heard tell of a Tarnished hurtling about atop a spectral steed. And upon looking into the matter, the talk, I surmise, is of thee. Thou'rt possessed of the power, no? To call forth the spectral steed named Torrent." The blue, four-armed, doll-like woman asked.

"I shall tolerate no insult, though you be a fair maiden," I said in my most pompous, medieval-age knight voice. "You shall address him by his full title. He is Torrent, First of His Name! Goodest of Bois! Steed of the Spectral Step! Mount of the Third Elden Lord!"

"That is..." the woman with two faces blinked at me in disbelief, "quite a claim."

"Eh," I shrugged in my normal voice. "We're workshopping it. Torrent wanted to add 'The Holiest of Hornies,' but I talked him down from it. Not only does he not understand the implication, but I think three titles is the most I can give without it being too cumbersome."

She giggled behind one of her four hands.

Melina facepalmed.

**

"Boc the Seamster, at your service. Ready to make adjustments to your garments." The short, monkey-like creature in a roughspun tunic and hat said.

"You mean you can patch up all these holes, make things fit and make underwear!?" I couldn't help but shout out in happy surprise, hugging the little creature. I knew the basics of sewing and tailoring more than the average person, but I hated it passionately. "You are now my bro! Never leave me!"

Melina facepalmed.

**

"I thank you for killing that Tree Sentinal. He was terrible for business. I am Kale, a nomadic merchant. You are a Tarnished, I can see it. And I can also see that you're not after my throat. Then why not purchase a little something?" He looked like a scarecrow Santa. That wasn't important. What was important was the odd instrument in his hands and the song he was playing. I would know that theme anywhere.

"I ham strung his horse then stabbed him through the eye holes when he fell. More importantly, I'll give you all the Runes he had if you can get me one of those instruments and teach me how to play. Singing can only get one so far."

I didn't need to see her to know Melina perked up at the idea.

**

"Well, you are a piece of work. Very well. You are now my protégé in glintstone sorcery. But I refuse to coddle. Or cast kind words. Never.
Anticipate grievances, young apprentice."

"Help me, Sellen-sensei," I said, "you're my only hope."

"My apprentice, what does sensei mean?"

Melina facepalmed.

**

"I can cross space and time, live for tens of thousands of years, and see the end of the world, but I will never escape you, can I?" I asked the man rhetorically, a fondness in my voice.

"Have we met?" The newest iteration of Patches asked me as he tried to impale me through the chest with his spear.

**

"Who goes there? Kalé sent you, did he? Ever the bloody busybody. Hmm. Maybe to him, you don't seem so strange. The name's Blaidd." The man-wolf in cool armour said after jumping from the top of a ruined building. "I'm looking for a man who goes by "Darriwil." He fled somewhere nearby. Or so I've heard. Come tell me if you find him before I do. I can offer you ample reward. Darriwil is nothing but a traitor. And in need of a fitting end to his tale."

"I will help you on your quest Blaidd," I responded seriously as I looked at his cape in envy. "Traitors are scum and villains, no matter their intent. I would ask only one thing of you in return. We must become the Bestest of Bros."

Melina facepalmed.

**

"Once again, the pleasure is mine. I am the warrior jar known as Alexander. Iron Fist Alexander, in fact. I journey to the east, where I intend to further my education in the ways of war. Beyond these lands lie the scarlet rot-blighted Caelid Wilds. And upon their southern edge is Redmane Castle, in which a festival of combat is to be held. I'd heard whispers of such festivities before... Doesn't the notion set your breast aflutter!"

"It certainly does, my jar-shaped friend," I said, staring up at the two-meter-tall walking jar with arms. I was getting major Siegmeyer vibes from the guy, and the Onion Knights were always top of my list of 'good people.' "Though I admit, your existence does put me in something of a quandary."

"Though I am bound eastward, the festival is not to be held for years hence. My calculations predict plenty of time. How may I be of assistance, my fellow warrior?"

"It is nothing too serious. I am just posing the eternal question. Something all men must ask themselves at least once in their life. Is Jar-buddy or Wolf-buddy more 'Bro.'"

Melina facepalmed.

**


Of course, the Roundtable Hold was as full of shifty characters as I expected. I mostly stayed clear of it until I could have Emma come in and verify a few things for me.

**

"The blind priest is precisely as he appears. He worships the Golden Order and would be against any who go against it." Emma reported. It was six months or so since I had appeared in the Lands Between, and I had kept my distance from Roundtable till now. Though nobody could see or hear her, I let loose my control over my thoughts to communicate with her mentally. We were resting in one of the corners of the hold. "Diallos and D aren't hiding anything either. One wants to find his missing servant and prove himself, and the other hunts 'those who live in death.' The girl, Roderika, is also as simple as she appears. A girl who is in over her head and lost all her companions."

"At least some people are straightforward, though that probably means they are doomed." I 'said.' "What about the rest?"

"They all have some angle to play here." Emma had perked up when I had asked her for help with this task. I was starting to wonder if she got off on the voyeuristic aspects of her power. What am I thinking? Of course, she did. "The woman, Fia, serves the Demi-god whose death kicked all this off. Godwyn, Prince of Death, she calls him in her mind. They lead 'those who live in death.'"

"Is he undead or something else?"

"From what I gathered, only his spirit was killed in the 'Night of Black Knives.' His body still lives and spreads its influence through a root network. She is seeking out a 'Cursemark of Death' to create a Great Rune. She doesn't care who is Elden Lord so long as they use that Rune to repair the Elden Ring. Her blessing is valid; it strengthens the receiver and sucks some of their vitality as payment. Also, a shadow of anyone who accepts it can be called by her to fight."

"I'll put her faction in the maybe pile. If they don't care if I become Elden Lord instead of Godwyn, then we might be able to work together. I'm just iffy about being undead again if that's what it takes."

"Next, we have Gideon Ofnir, the All-Knowing. He is the trickiest opponent here. I would rate him as a Sebastion Shaw-type character, only more cautious," Emma said seriously. "His title isn't just for show. He has a wealth of knowledge in his head, which we can go over later, and he has spies everywhere. His backup plans have backup plans. He has very few overt supporters, that silent fellow that follows him and his adopted daughter, but an almost endless supply of hidden resources to draw upon. Unless something changes, you can count on him to help you along the journey if you can prove yourself useful. He will never allow another tarnished to be Elden Lord. Like all his faction, he will use you until it is time to discard you."

"So the sudden and inevitable betrayal will be sudden and inevitable. Got it. I'll need to keep him around for you to probe. What of the blacksmith chained to the wall."

"Hewg is..." the mutant bit her lip in consideration for her words. I noted her lipstick was a rather excellent shade of ice blue that complimented her eyes and pale skin. "His mind is not entirely his own. Marika, the goddess of this world, has compelled him to create a god-slaying weapon. Even if I could actually work with the minds there, rather than just observe, I wouldn't be able to free him. It is so deeply ingrained into his being that he lives and breathes that purpose. He doesn't care who wins or losses this war, so long as he makes that weapon."

"So either Marika the Eternal has a death wish, or deeper currents exist here. Other gods, perhaps?" I asked myself thoughtfully.

"Probably," Emma nodded. "Not even the stupidest villains make a weapon designed to kill them. It's a safe bet that other gods prowl the land, and Marika shattered the Elden Ring either to keep it out of their hands or for a similar purpose. But Hewg isn't the only mind here tampered with."

I sent over a mental inquiry, urging her to explain.

"Beyond the main door lies one of the Two-Fingers." Emma pointed towards the other side of the Hold. "Gideon knew that, but I can also tell you there is a Finger Maiden with them. Her mind is... twisted. Warped. It's like someone took a copy-paste of a mind, one already bent in an alien direction, and slapped it into a new body. The Two Fingers themselves are completely Alien. Not inhuman, just something that operates on a different level. I can feel a mind there, but it is beyond my comprehension."

"Shit!" I swore mentally. Only my effort to be subtle stopped me from getting up and pacing. "I guess this world is closer to Bloodborne than I hoped. The way you described it, they sound very Goo-ish." At the White Queen's uncomprehending look, I explained. "Great Old One. Cthulhu mythos type stuff. Beings greater than human comprehension twist people into madness with their mere presence."

"Whatever they are, it might be why Marika wanted a weapon that could kill gods."

**


I also made some wise decisions during that time.

**

"Would you mind taking a letter to my father at the castle? My sole wish is that he escapes, even if his honour should be the price. Please... I just want him to be safe..."

"You want me to deliver a letter," I asked incredulously at the blind woman sitting in a field of corpses. "While you sit here? In the open? With no one to protect you? From those who you just admitted tried to kill you?"

Irina blushed in shame.

I could recognize a Soulsborne tragedy in the making when I saw one.

I wasn't stupid.

"You can stay at Roundtable Hold while I go knock some sense into your father," I said with finality. I then ignored her protests and squirming when I put her on Torrent.

I had always wanted to kidnap some damsel in distress.

Melina facepalmed.

**

"Ah, yes. I've been meaning to ask. Would you like to enter my service? I see bright things in your future, stout warrior. Enter into my service and learn the workings of the Erdtree's true Order. And who knows, perhaps some time down the line, the Grace of gold will return to those Tarnished eyes of yours. What say you? A fine accord, is it not?"

Kenneth, the noble whose castle I just liberated, asked pompously. He was straight out of Shakespeare. I didn't need Melina appearing behind the man, frantically gesturing in the negative to refuse. Though her efforts were appreciated.

I later asked her why she was so set against it.

"I care not how thy journey leads, so long as it leads to the foot of the Erd Tree, such is our accord," she said seriously. "But if I had to put up with that windbag for one more moment, I would have slain him myself."

**


Of course, it wasn't all wacky side characters, deep plots, and good times. I died more than my fair share of horrific deaths.

**

"Your telling me a dragon uses that shallow lake as a hunting ground?" I asked Yura. "And some of the tarnished worship it?"

"It's as fearsome as it is majestic. So, unless you're mad, or wish to be burned alive... Stay clear of the lake," he warned.

Unfortunately, I was indeed mad.

"LEEEERRRRROOOYYYYY JEEEEEEENNNNKIIIINNNNNSSSSS!" I shouted my warcry as I charged through the flames.

I died twelve times to the thing, then I got fed up and rode off on Torrent. I would be back for that bastard. As soon as I found a way to attack an airborne dragon that didn't involve arrows harmlessly bouncing off its scales. I either needed a proper bow and enchanted arrows or some spells.

I never thought I would miss the drakes of dark souls.

**

"Blarg," I coughed up blood.

The ballista bolt pinning me to the cliff through my torso did not make it easy. I missed it when my enemies did not take defensive positions and fortify them. Who knew putting ranged defences on critical locations such as bridges could prove so effective in stopping would-be travellers or invaders.

Oh, wait, anyone with common sense knew that.

I missed it when I was the only armed man in a battle of wits.

**

"Run Torrent," I urged the best boi on. They were gaining on us.

"Rarrr," the bear, the size of a house, roared from right behind us. Torrent neighed in fear.

So quickly were we rushing through the forest that we didn't notice the other furry monster the size of an eighteen-wheeler side swipe us as we passed by. We fell in a bloody and mangled tangle of flesh, Torrent astralizing as soon as I was off.

The bears ate well that night.

I hate those fucking things!

**

"Oh, come on!" I complained to no one as the knight, armoured like a tank, grew spectral draconic wings. "That's so unfair."

A small part of me couldn't help but think these gaols were a bit dangerous.

A much more significant part of me was thinking about how to learn that spell.

It was good that I had something to occupy my mind, as the pain of a bisection was not something I liked to ponder.

**


And then there was Caelid.

**

"Why Miyasaki?" I yelled in anger as I ran through the cave. "Why are teleporting traps a thing?"

The insect people inundated the hallway with their arrow-like projectiles. The diggers tried to impale me with their magic drills.

I nearly cried when I repeatedly respawned in the ramshackle house in the mine and died over six more times. I had to sneak my way out of the cave.

Then I saw the crimson skies and demon bird/dog/t-rex monstrosities. I smelled the foul air, felt my flesh melting from the red pus, and saw the poisonous swamp in the distance.

I returned to the cave.

**


We don't talk about Caelid!

Apart from a few particularly blighted memories, I can confidently say that my first decade in Elden Ring was some of the best times I've had in my centuries of life. There were three reasons why so;

At its most basic, it was a time when my worries were low. Unlike games I was familiar with, there was nothing extra I could be doing that I knew about. I could forget about the Island, and its prisoners, for a time. Never wholly, the foreign influence in my mind ensured that, but they ceased to be in my every waking thought. I stopped feeling like a prisoner for a time and could just be Mikael.

The second reason was that I was on a new adventure, never knowing what was to come or where to go. It was exciting in a way that was new to me.

And most importantly, I was never alone.

Torrent and Melina were with me the entire time.

********

This marks the start of the last part of Volume 1.

With my new job, my schedule is shrunk to one chapter every Friday. Though you can expect them to be about this long or so. I'll see you all next week.
 
"Then I might be of assistance," Glynda offered. The elfin woman eyed her for a moment in contemplation before responding.
Damn. Considering the lore behind Aura, and, hell, the culture of Remnant itself, I'm surprised Glynda is even okay with the idea of a Bonfire.

Mikael really is a harem protag against his own wishes, huh?
 
"Shit!" I swore mentally. Only my effort to be subtle stopped me from getting up and pacing. "I guess this world is closer to Bloodborne than I hoped. The way you described it, they sound very Goo-ish." At the White Queen's uncomprehending look, I explained. "Great Old One. Cthulhu mythos type stuff. Beings greater than human comprehension twist people into madness with their mere presence."

"Whatever they are, it might be why Marika wanted a weapon that could kill gods."
This is firmly enhancing my opinion that the final world is going to be Bloodborn. Having the world be a real one where the lore is what matters means that the bosses in Bloodborn are going to be serious business.

Having to deal with beings that cause madness and SAN damage from simply looking upon them, and then having to fight and consume them to grow strong enough to fight the more powerful ones that gate-keep his exit... Yeah. That's the proper ending to this, and will help bridge the gap between what he is now and his enormous dragon body.

Really looking forward to reading more of this.
 
Desolation 2
"Have ever you heard of the Land of Beyond,
That dreams at the gates of the day?
Alluring it lies at the skirts of the skies,
And ever so far away;
Alluring it calls: O ye the yoke galls,
And ye of the trails overfond,
With saddle and pack, by paddle and track,
Let's go to the Land of Beyond!"

********

"Whooooohoooooooo!" I exclaimed in joy, pumping my fist in the air. "Suck a dick, you scally bastard! Who's the best? We're the best! Who's dead? You are! Torrent, your best boi status has been solidified and codified into law." I pat the Spirit Steed's head with one hand, rubbing right at the base of his horns, just the way he liked. With my other hand, I fed him some of the raisins he loved.

Before us, crumbling to dust, was the massive remains of Agheel. He had been a drake, not a full dragon, but his stone-like skin had made him an even more formidable challenge than the Hellkite. It was only due to Torrent's incredible speed and maneuvering that I had been able to slay the creature.

We had kept circling it while on the ground, slicing at it when an opportunity presented itself. The biggest problem had been trying to ground it when it took to the air. The tiny bit of the local sorceries I knew did not penetrate its hide. We journeyed for over a decade before returning to the shallow lake Agheel used as a hunting ground.

It turns out the answer had been nearby all along.

There was a forbidden area in the Hero's grave I had washed up in. Using one of those stonesword keys, I gained access. I found quite some helpful stuff there, such as a golden seed for my flasks, a few examples of weapon coating, an interesting talisman, and a seal for casting faith-based spells, which would probably go unused. My most significant profit was when I destroyed the automated chariot that patrolled the grave using the explosive material nearby.

Picking through the remains of the chariot, I found a fabulous great bow. Seizing the opportunity, I had Hewg fashion some great arrows and, using my new toys, clipped Agheel's wings. The rest had been inevitable.

"Well done, Mikael," Melina said, appearing behind me on Torrent's back. I knew she never left me. "Very few tarnished can claim the title of Dragonslayer throughout history. Agheel, while not an Ancient Dragon, could still claim descent from them."

"Thanks," I was panting from the fight's exertion and the area's heat. Agheel's favourite tactic had been to carpet bomb the lake from up high. His flames would burn anyone present, and the boiling water would take care of most who managed to hide from the initial blast. My spirit summons had been cooked not long after their summoning. "What's that?" I asked as I claimed the Runes the dragon held.

There were quite a few, but the red lump falling into the shallow water was more interesting. It was ovoid in shape, the size of my head. Riddled with spikes, this grotesque organ continued to beat vivaciously. Even as Melina responded, I knew the answer.

"This is Agheel's heart, My Tarnished," she said as I slid off the horse and picked up the thing to get a better look. What I thought to be bone spikes were instead stone. While a terrible and savage-looking thing, the heart had a peculiar beauty to it. "Long ago, Dragon Trackers hunted the flying beasts. Theirs was an arcane practice of Dragon Communion. Unlike the Dragon Cult of the Capital, who sought to work with dragons, the adherents to the Communion sought to transform into them by consuming their hearts in ritualistic locations."

"Really?" Miyazaki loved dragons, a staple of western and eastern fantasy, and they had been present in every one of the games he directed except Bloodborne. The theme of turning into them was also well-trod, usually with disastrous consequences.

"Indeed," I could feel her nod even as she tightened her arms around my waist. "You have already discovered one of their churches, on the isle near the coast of Limgrave. The Dragon Communion Seal you found in the Fringefolk Hero's Grave is also one of theirs. While remnants remain of the practice, the edifice and adherents were wiped out by the dragons themselves. Their Cathedral was in Caelid before the battle of Malania and Radahn destroyed the country. Ekzykes, Dragon Communion Revenger, did not forget his hatred even as he succumbed to the scarlet rot and remains near the ruins to this day."

"Did it work? The transformation, I mean." I couldn't help but ask, threads starting to connect in my head.

"My Tarnished?" Melina asked sharply. "Surely you cannot mean to take part in such a practice? Theirs was a pure and overwhelming power, tis true. However, those who have performed the Dragon Communion will find their humanity slowly slipping away. Once they fully succumb to
their fate, they are left no more than wyrms that crawl the earth. The dragon-hearted were heroes of eld, but they fell one by one to the madness."

"I am as mad as I am going to get," I said plainly, still staring at the heart in my hand. In its pulsing rhythm, I saw a glimmer of hope. I might have a way to my freedom yet.

"Mikael!" She said seriously, concern in her voice as she looked up at me with worried eyes. "How sure are you that your... situation will protect you from the influence of the dragons?"

"Completly certain," I responded just as seriously.

I had told Melina a similar abbreviated story to the one I explained to Priscila so long ago. She knew about the other island women; she'd seen me talking to them and giving them items. I had kept the sheer scope of my situation from her, but the key factors were there. I was cursed to wander until I became Elden Lord. I would not and could not deviate from my course. My curse left my companions trapped, with the occasional visit, and me mad.

I hadn't told any of the other women on the island about Melina for three reasons. First, they could not interact with each other at all, so there would be no point. The second reason was that I did not need any of the drama that could come from their jealousy. If I offered Melina my bite in the future, we could deal with it.

My third, and most petty reason, was simply that I did not want to share. I wasn't compelled to love or even like Melina. Our initial accord was one of convenience. She needed to get to the Erd Tree, and I needed a maiden. Whatever sort of relationship that grew from there was for us alone. I still felt the alien emotion worm itself into me whenever the Island women were summoned, that never diminished, but everything I felt for My Maiden was purely between us.

"If you are completely sure," My Maiden said once she realized my resolution. While she still talked using her native accent, a decade spent with me changed her style and word choice. "If you are not at risk from their corruption, then the opportunity for a great power is there. Several Dragons still inhabit the Lands Between. Long ago, Godwyn the Golden defeated the ancient dragon Fortissax and befriended his fallen foe. While the Demi-god has perished, I haven't heard about the dragon doing the same. Or his sister, Lansseax, who took on human form during the time of the Dragon Cult. Greyoll and her brood still inhabit Dragonbarrow in Caelid. Faram Azula and the north should also be home to a few that remain."

"It sounds like we have a lot of dragons to hunt," I said as I remounted Torrent. I offered her a hand, which she gladly took, and she sat behind me again. "Before we make a list of targets, tell me everything you know about the Communion and those who practiced it. We'll stop at the church you mentioned, but then we'll have to go to Caelid for the Cathedral. I want to see if I can retrieve anything in its remains."

"Very well, then I shall tell you of the ancient troll warrior Theodorix. He was a hero of the War against the Giants..."

**********

The death of Agheel marked the end of my fun in the sun.

While there were still many moments of joy to come, great friends to see again, and places to explore, the unburdened wonder of that first decade was never felt again. Looking back on that time, I had behaved almost like a child, where everything was wonderful and full of adventure. Agheel changed things because he gave me the worst gift possible.

Hope.

I had been able to wander across Limgrave in such a carefree manner because, in a way, I was hopeless.

What did it matter if I spent decades or centuries galavanting across the countryside?

I had no guarantee that even if I managed the herculean task of becoming Elden Lord that I wouldn't just be shuffled off to the next word. Maybe a Fromsoft game I knew about, perhaps one that would be released five years after Elden Ring. I was ever urged onwards by Elements, but with no sense of purpose that a familiar game might bring, I was able to calm that urge by simple exploration.

Agheel changed things with his death.

Once a plan started to form in my head, it would not leave.

For once, I would be proactive. I wouldn't trust my fate to whoever or whatever placed me in this situation. I would find my own freedom.

Those thoughts drove me ever onwards through the blighted lands of Caelid.

My time in the rot-infested country was as horrific as one could imagine. The air was chocked full of the red fungus, and breathing was difficult at the best of times. During combat, when my lungs ached with every pump, I died more to the coughing fits than to the monsters that prowled the land.

And what monsters they were.

Mutated and horrific dogs, birds, and people infested those lands. The zombie-like dregs that wandered the roads in hoards were easy to avoid, but the animals were not so considerate. The dogs were shaped like a Tyranasaurous, their front legs shrivelled and misshaped, but their massive size and bulbous head made them even more dangerous. By far, the worst was the birds. Like someone had taken a crow, multiplied its size by a factor of ten, grafted hairy, human legs onto it, and filled it with enough malice to blot out the skies.

The army of the local Demigod, Starscourge Radahn, was a big help. They would still try and kill me if they saw me, but they were much more focused on beating back the blighted monsters of the Aeonian swamp.

In Caelid, if the air didn't kill you, and the monsters didn't kill you, then the Scarlet Rot would kill you.

It permeated the land in puddles, in fungal spores, and in the swampy ground. It accumulated over time through everything you touched or did. If you are unlucky, then you become infected by it. Like supped up necrosis, with a dash of the Mercer-virus. Once infected, you either killed yourself, set yourself alight with fire, or prayed it was only a minor infection.

Only Torrent's immunity to the stuff kept my exploration of Caelid to six years instead of the decades it could have been.

Perhaps the worst part was that Melina spent so little time out of spirit form to reduce the risk of infection that I had to traverse the former country almost entirely alone. Gone were the days we fell asleep under the stars in each other's arms.

Dragons were my main reason for heading to Caelid, but they were relegated to the status of McGuffins to me. I found a Wyrm in one of the mines that connected Caelid to Limgrave. One of the few dragon-hearted not already slain when the Communion fell. Alexander actually gave me a hand with that fight which was nice. The tight confines were not the best for fighting a lava-spewing lizard.

Ekzykes fell to the same tactic as Agheel, my great bow clipping his wings and bleeding him to death upon the ground by a thousand cuts. Greyll met a similar fate when he ambushed me during my exploration of Dragonbarrow.

Elder Dragon Greyoll was a more formidable challenge; despite being so old and large she had fused to the ground. The great beast was simply too big for me to deal any real damage to. She would call her brood to her assistance if I started any real damage. It took me three months to slay the neighbouring drakes, leaving her defenceless, and then carve my way to her heart.

I then learned she had four more I had to reach before she would finally expire.

Needless to say, by the end, I needed an extensive cleaning afterwards. Thankfully, Dragonbarrow had been the last stop of my time in Cealid, and I was pretty happy to return to the idyllic countryside of Limgrave.

Looking back on my time in Caelid is not a pleasant experience, but it was necessary. Not only to reach the Cathedral of Dragon Communion, which was crucial to my plan, but for two encounters that would shape the entire rest of my journey to be free.

**

I rode into the ruined church slowly, wary of any more traps. Rolling boulders were not a new addition to a Fromsoft game, a staple in fact, but one that changed courses to seek you out was new.

Sellia, Town of Sorcery had been one unpleasant encounter after another. The marionettes were annoying, but the invisible sorcerers had been a problem. I had taken to blanketing the streets and buildings in my Breath, fire purged most of the rot, but I had to be careful not to destroy the buildings and the knowledge they contained. It was a gruelling month of slow progress, but I was looking forward to going over my loot. There were quite a few items of interest and several books on sorcery.

I guessed the 'secret' of the city without effort, though Gowry did point me in the right directions to find the briars I needed to light to take down the spell barriers. The creepy old man had directed me up the hill to this church after repairing a needle found in the swamp. Supposedly, it was to heal a girl afflicted with rot that these shrimp people worshipped.

I called bullshit.

While Elden Ring was not a dead world like Dark Souls, as far as I am aware, it was still a game from the mind of Hidetaka Miyazaki. The man was an out-and-out masochist who enjoyed not only pain but heartbreak. The man would never have a kindly old man caring for a sick girl unless the girl turned into an abomination from beyond mortal kin or the kind old man was a psychopath.

I admired Miyazaki. I found joy in his work. I even liked the bittersweet feelings it could dredge up. The wonder and grandeur, the horror and terror, the nihilism and the exhilaration. Over the years I had played his games, I had grown to trust him to deliver a well-crafted experience, even if it was a kick to the balls.

But I never forgot that we were different people and liked different things. While I enjoyed Soulsborne games, I also enjoyed classic RPGs. I like my OP main characters, my trashy harem fantasy. I enjoyed the tropes of Chinese wuxia, xianxia, and xuanhuan novels. More than anything, I liked wish fulfillment and happy endings. The caveat being that they had to be well written, which they sadly were not most of the time.

Deep in my soul, I knew some sort of tragedy or terrible revelation was waiting for me in the future. Maybe the friends I'd made would die horrifically. Perhaps they would fall into despair. Possibly the final boss would be someone I grew to care about. I had no way to promise anyone a happy ending, not even myself.

So I remained cautious even as I burned the Pests to chitinous slag. I remained cautious as I approached the pitiful girl, curled up and coughing in the corner of a ruined church in a devastated country.

"Ah...Ahh," she moaned in pain to herself as I approached. I dismounted and dissipated Torrent but kept my hand on my weapon. At this range, it would be quicker to impale her on my Moonveil than to gather one of my Breaths. "Nggh... Who's there?" She asked blearily.

Her hair was scarlet. I don't know why that stuck out to me so much, but it did. Not the orangish-red on most gingers but a deep scarlet red, the same hue as the dried blood on her tunic. The same red of the skies and swamp of Caelid. It was a dishevelled, blotted mess. The type of hair you get when you do not bathe for a long time due to a violent sickness. I had hair like that at one point.

My eyes then fell to the rest of her. She was crumpled into a heap on the ground, writhing in pain. She was thin, almost emaciated and could clearly use a good meal. But of more interest was the absence of her right hand.

"Well, it matters not. If you are wise, you will leave immediately. My flesh writhes with scarlet rot. It is a curse. Not to be meddled with by man." She continued to say as I approached slowly. For a moment, I remembered the trailers for the game. In it, a one-armed, red-headed woman featured prominently. Was this her? Either way, I was here for a reason.

"Sorry for barging in," I smiled at the girl in a disarming way, trying to ease her worry. I was cautious, not heartless. "I just have something for you." I reached into my pouch a received the Gold Needle. "A totally not creepy old man at the bottom of the cliff asked me to give this to you. It is supposed to help with your sickness."

"A... needle?" Millicent asked as she squinted at the object.

"I know, I know," I was careful to not make any sudden moves as I approached. "A creepy stranger walks up to you and asks to stick you with a needle to make you feel good. The proper response is to call for an adult. But I am an adult, and I am just trying to help. I have no idea how this will help. Gowry seems to have your best interest for the moment." I slowly set the needle on her legs and backed away. My hand never strayed far from my sword.

"You ask that I stab myself with the needle... To quell the scarlet rot? But...how?" I was about to reiterate my cluelessness, but she shook her head and sat straighter. She took the gold item in her one remaining hand. "Never mind. I've decided. I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within. Would you mind...averting your eyes for a moment?"

Numbly, I turned away. A part of me wanted to joke about how anorexia wasn't attractive to me. Another part of me realized my hand had fallen from my weapon, and if Millicent attacked while my back was turned, I would be finished.

The most significant part of me was focusing on my beating heart and sweaty palms and asking myself why her words struck me like a truck.

"Well. That was easier than expected." Her voice shook me from my momentary stupor. "But...why do I feel so..." I turned to see her collapse into a dead faint.

I didn't panic, but I did approach. Millicent's pulse was steady and regular, and her lungs sounded clear. I was no nurse or doctor, but everything I knew told me she was just asleep. I laid her in a more comfortable position before walking away to attune myself to the nearby Grace.

I took up the sacred tear absentmindedly, mixing it into my flasks to boost them. I then sat a ways away from the sleeping woman, with my back to a wall and commanding views of the access points.

While I remained half on alert (this was Caelid, after all), I also took out my instrument and began to play Kishi Ou no Hokori. I had been trying to adapt a lot of music I knew to this odd violin-like instrument with mixed success. Though I practiced for hours as the sun set in the red sky, my mind wasn't on my music. Whenever I tried to focus, my mind kept returning to the sick woman's words.


I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within.

**

Getting into Redmane Castle had been surprisingly easy, all things considered.

I initially hadn't wanted to attempt it and only approached for a good look, but the army had been distracted by an incursion of the Rot Beasts. I still had to face fierce opposition, but it wasn't as well coordinated as I had expected. The forces, on average, were more challenging than Godrick's. They were more skilled and brutal but didn't cover their weak points or other castle accesses than the front gate.

The biggest challenge had been crossing the great bridge under the rain of siege equipment, but Torrent and I worked together perfectly. After sixteen years together, I barely needed to twitch to direct him where to go. We dodged bolts, boulders, vats of flaming oil, and soldiers alike. I felt like one of the steppe archers of old warriors who had been mistaken for centaurs.

Once we got past the fortifications along the bridge and to the side of the grand edifice, I casually walked in the back door.

From there, it was only a few guards between me and a Site of Grace in a massive feasting hall. Though the fires were not lit and food was scarce, I could tell the room could be occupied by over a hundred soldiers despite the Redgrave being much smaller than Stormveil. Beyond the hall was a wide plaza.

Large tables filled the space, as did stands and a towering bonfire that was unlit. Streamers and banners hung from the lines above. It looked like a festival ground, though one that hadn't been used in a while.

I cautiously made my way forward, wary of any soldiers or guards.

There were none.

I explored the area slowly before preceding forwards. Eventually, I came to the only occupant in this part of Redmane. An old knight sat reclined in a chair, his armour was unusually colourful, almost jester-like, but I remained cautious despite his eccentric appearance. He looked up at my approach but made no move to ready himself for combat.

"Oh, Tarnished, are you? How did you slip inside with the gate closed?" He asked. His voice sounded like sandpaper on wood. "Hmph. No matter. In my book, if you can fell one of them, you're a champion. I am Jerren. Foolish old warrior and witness. Incidentally, do you like a good festival from time to time?" I blinked at the question.

"I'm a die-hard misanthrope and introvert, but even I can see that this place isn't good for a festival," I said, and he barked out a bitter laugh.

"Well, it's true. This fortress houses only the vanquished. But when the stars align, we celebrate. A war festival honouring the last battle and death of General Radahn, the mightiest Demigod of the Shattering, and bearer of a Great Rune."

"Radahn has died?" I asked, unaware that someone had beaten me to his Great Rune. Had my dawdling caused me to miss out?

"He died when Malenia's rot took him." The old man said seriously. "What wanders the dunes is but his body. Festering with rot and crippled by madness, he only wants an honourable death. Once the stars align, we host a festival of war. The greatest champions of the realm journey here, to Redmane, to participate. For seven days, they pitch themselves against the Demigod in the hope of being the one to slay him. Centuries have passed, and no one has yet bested the great general."

"So wait," I couldn't help but ask. "You're telling me that the best fighters in the Lands Between travel from all around for this 'Festival'? Which is them repeatedly throwing themselves at one of the greatest heroes to die and revive for seven days? And this has been going on for centuries?"

"That is a good summation, yes."

"That sounds awesome," I said wide-eyed. Was this a Dark Souls Raid Boss? Jesus Christ, Miyazaki, I wished I had gotten to play that. "When is the next festival?" I asked eagerly.

"You are the first to arrive and are welcome to reside in the castle while you wait." Jerren gestured to nearby rooms. "The next time the stars align is in eight years. It happens every twenty years or so. Enough time for warriors to train and travel before attempting it again."

"I have things to do in that time, though I definitely will be back for the festival," I said, pulling up a chair. "Can you talk to me for a bit? I have a bunch of questions about Radahn, Malenia, the Shattering and Caelid."

"I have some old war tales if you are interested." The old man said.

I ended up staying in Redmane for a week, talking to Jerren and exploring the castle. It was also an excellent time to allow Melina to spend outside spirit form as the castle was well protected from the rot.

As we were lying in bed together in one of the castle's guest rooms, Melina lay her head on my chest and looked up at me. Her sweaty and dishevelled appearance matched my own.

"Are you so eager for the festival, My Tarnished?"

"Hm?" I asked, my mind returning to the here and now.

"I find your gaze wandering to the Wailing Dunes often. Are you so eager to fight the Starscourge?" She asked me.

"Not really," I said honestly. "I think the festival will be incredible and the fight epic, but that isn't what's been bothering me."

"Then what ails you?"

"It's just..." I paused, struggling to put my feelings into words. "He was a Hero, you know. Capital H and everything. General Radahn, I mean. I've read the records of his time in Sellia. His focus of study was gravity magic, to which he dedicated his life. All so he wouldn't have to leave behind his horse. I know he admired his father, Radagon, and was a devotee of the Golden Order. His troops loved him, and everything I know indicates that he was worthy of it. Though I am not sure why even mad, he continues to carry out his wish to hold the stars in place."

"I am aware of his story," she said, pulling away to sit and look down at me. "Do not tell me your hands will be stalled by misguided pity. As the old knight has told you, Radahn would rather die in glorious combat than waste away, eaten alive by the rot."

"I know that," I said sharply. "I have done and will always do what I need to do." I took a deep breath, bringing my annoyance in check. For all our closeness, Melina did not understand everything I had been through. What I had to do to get here. It wasn't her fault I was keeping secrets. It seems like that was all I ever did. "I guess I am just feeling melancholic, that's all. That such a great man can be reduced to such a state."

"Mikael," Melina said softly, laying back down and snuggling up to me. "That is why you must become Elden Lord. So you may wield the power to stop such events."

"I will do my best."

As My Maiden fell asleep, I fiddled with a small dagger I kept by our bedside. The moon provided enough light for slit, yellow, draconic eyes to stare back at me.

I didn't tell Melina that even if I became Elden Lord, I probably wouldn't be around long enough to do much good.

I didn't tell her I saw a bit of myself in Radahn. The various Fromsoft worlds I travelled to were my own Wailing Dunes. Only I would never die.


I would rather trust you than simply continue to spoil from within.

Was the Freedom I sought my own Scarlet Rot?

**

Ironically, neither of those encounters had anything to do with dragons.

After my time in the rot-torn country, Stormveil castle turned out to be a cakewalk.

The path to the castle had been blocked by someone called Margit, but he hadn't been all that tough. Melina later told me it had only been a projection of Morgott, one of the demigods and the one who ruled over the capital, Leyndell. I'm sure the entire city would be a challenge, but if Margit/Morgott was the final boss, it shouldn't be too hard.

The front gates and pathways were as well defended as expected, but a disgruntled servant had kindly shown me a back passage. Of course, I wasn't surprised when he later tried to betray and kill me. This was Elden Ring, after all.

I hadn't been the only interloper in the castle, a man called Rogier and a bandit-like woman named Nepheli Loux. I explored the castle with the former for a few days, though we split up after killing another of those spiders made out of people and spite. He was interested in the basement of the castle. I was also interested, but I figured it would be better to kill the Demigod first and then explore. The soldiers would be in disarray. I made plans to meet up with him at Roundtable later.

I met Nepheli near a courtyard I knew Godrick used for his experiments in grafting. She was apparently the adopted daughter of Gideon and here as one of his agents. Much like Millicent, I was sure that relationship would eventually lead to a tragedy of some sort, but I held my tongue. I knew the old tarnished was shady, but the Nepheli spoke highly of him. She would have to see things for herself.

The fight with Godrick the Grafted turned out to be... well, it was something.

**

"Forefathers, one and all… Bear witness!" The two-meter-tall man covered in arms screamed. He had been a grotesque sight when I first laid eyes on him. He just cut off his left hand, shoved his stump into a dead dragon's throat, and spewed fire like a water hose.

"That is so hardcore and disgusting at the same time," I said from thirty feet away. "That can't be sanitary."

"Lowly Tarnished," he sneered. At least, I think it was a sneer. It was hard to pay attention to his tiny head when the rest of him was... a lot. "Burn!"

I saw flames gather in the dragon's maw and narrowed my draconian eyes.

Fire welled up from my own throat. Anime has taught me exactly what to do in situations like this.

The two waves of fire crashed into each other with cataclysmic force, bathing the courtyard in flames. Mine was the greater power, but I quickly realized we weren't shooting beams at each other. We were both breathing like dragons, which meant fire.

Fire doesn't fight a fire; it just makes more fire. The inferno roasted my back as I ran away.

"Hot! Hot! Hot!"

Anime had lied to me.


**

Despite a hiccup, I killed the Demigod without dying once to him. Melina then told me to get the Great Rune's power, I had to go to the nearby Divine Tower. As soon as I stood before the Two Finger corpse and held the Godrick's Great Rune aloft, a new sense filled me.

A sense of completeness, stability and wholeness filled my chest. While it was powerful, I could feel that the true key to this Rune was the sense of unity it gave. It was like my body, previously made of different parts, was suddenly one whole. I knew with certainty that Godrick wouldn't have been anchored enough to attach and control so many disparate limbs without this Great Rune.

I then returned to Roundtable Hold. The first tarnished to slay a demigod and claim a Great Rune since the Shattering years ago.

It was eighteen years since I first woke up in that church, and I still had a long way to go.

**********

I'll be honest, this chapter is hit and miss with me. Some parts I like and others are a bit too threadbare. My new job has cut down my editing time but I will probably flesh it out a bit later. Nothing needs to change, but I feel I could do a better job setting the scenes.

I am also trying to be a different style when it comes to writing the relationship between Mikael and Melina. She is such a key character in Elden Ring but so little is known about her. So I am trying to imply a lot with only a little. Tell me how you feel about it.

That's it for this one. I'll see you all next Friday with another chapter. That one will probably be a big one too.
 
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