SOMEWHERE IN ORARIO
No regret.
No remorse.
..Error..
Some regret.
No remorse.
{arthurchariot is typing…}
arthurchariot: Favorites and follows are nice, but I prefer reviews. This story is a one-shot. Enjoy it while it lasts. If people enjoy it, I may continue it, but as it is; it's a one-shot.
"..."
{OBSV077 is typing…}
OBSV077: Sir, what are you talking about?
The tip of the sword is where it shines the most, but it takes all of the sword to be useful..
...too often have I seen people cast aside their self-worth for a lick of publicity. A false sense of social worth, a fictional platform of belonging and value, not realizing what they're doing is detrimental to their health or the people around them.
The people I hate the most aren't 'clout-chasers.' The people I hate the most are those that are willing to sacrifice their sense of righteousness or vitality for their goals. When they stop being human and start becoming monsters.
...but perhaps I've been too ignorant. Rarely have I ever seen humanity be anything but monsters.
...Error…
...Rebooting…
—Listen here, hacker.
Ha] {correcting..} —Bell shall be retained.
...What're you going to do?
...Are you perhaps angry?
...It's a lot of progress you've lost.
"I need you to get lost."
...Such a hypocrite you are, putting so much into a single boy.
"Maybe you have been too ignorant.."
...You can't stop me anyway.
...You can't stop me.
...You can't stop me.
...You can't stop me.
...You can't stop me.
...You can't stop me.
...You—
*chik*
"...That's enough of that.."
"Don't tell me we're still listening to that creepy green bastard."
"I think it's best you keep your mouth shut for now."
"..."
"..."
"Was that him on the computer?"
"No. Just an old friend."
MEANWHILE, IN THE DUNGEONS.
...In other words,
...you are my servant.
...You are the only member of the Hestia Familia..
...Are you even listening to me, Bell!?
The footsteps rumbled through the cavern. Each step made its presence known like a mini-earthquake. That fact alone was more than enough to deter any rookie adventurers from even looking at it.
But what made this so different? Under normal circumstances, Minotaurs aren't usually expected on the fifth floor. You can't blame an oblivious newbie for being so careless on their first days.
*pant* *pant*, the breathing intensified with each step. A boy with white hair, ruby eyes, cute face and a slender figure entered the view around the corner.
*shlik*
He slipped, his feet stepped on a small bit of rock as it bounced off an out-of-view corner, but quickly regained his footing. The rocky, maze-like, brown caves with barely any significant variation in formation stretched as far as the eyes can see. This wasn't a day where he could get careless. This wasn't his day at all.
He eventually came across a dead-end. 'This is it.' he thought. He turned around to see his final enemy. He made a quick 180, he grimaced at the fact that this would be his last battle.
No. This wasn't a battle. He wouldn't go out with a bang like he imagined. Like a hero, like a legend, or maybe even a myth that was known to a select few.
...He would go out with a whimper.
The Minotaur, brown in color— similar to the cave and its surroundings with two large horns that protruded from the side of its head. Its appearance did not disappoint. To any rookie, it would be intimidating. Bell was no different. He shook in his boots, slowly losing his edge, his knees felt weak as he dropped to a submissive position, giving into natural instincts as he began covering his face in order to protect himself from the inevitable. It was almost like he fell limp right then and there. The Minotaur let out a roar. It slowly walked towards Bell, with each footstep seemingly harsher than the last. It smirked. A shiver went through Bell's spine.
'I'm sorry, Goddess. I've failed you.' a thought permeated his mind like a cat in cups or spilled milk. It filled it to the brim, like he was completely reprogrammed with that thought alone with nothing else. A wasn't a pleasant thought, but it was the only thing he could think in that situation.
The Minotaur reached out. It seemed like a quick motion— a blur, just by blinking you could miss the movement. But that wasn't the case. Bell, too paralyzed with fear, hadn't realized the Minotaur moved at all before it was too late. It grabbed his throat and squeezed it tightly. He could feel his windpipe rubbing against each other, slowly being crushed as his face grew blue and his arms went numb and couldn't move any longer. His legs, his chest, his arms, and finally; his consciousness.
*CRACK*
That was it. It was over. Everything had lost color. Not even black. It was indescribable. A poetic mess in literal form. He couldn't think anymore— only for a little while as least. Even in death, could he remain in possession of his sentience?
'A strange feeling.' He felt like he was falling. Was it the abyss? Was it purgatory? Was this what "Heaven" feels like? Hell?
'Life isn't fair,' Bell thought. 'it never is.'
His eyes were bolted shut, it was like having a metal door for eyelids. He was fearful of what he would see when he would open them. With how little progress he made, Bell couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He had failed in his promise to become a hero. To save the day, clear the dungeon and live a happy life onwards. And lastly; to pick up… girls? Bell shook his head rather violently.
'No! Uwaaa.. I can't believe Grandpa has an effect on me even in hell.' he remarked, giving himself a mental slap as he opened his eyes.
The environment was eerie. Grey floating islands dominated the landscape. The sky birthed foreign entities seemingly from nowhere and launched them downwards, making it seem like it was raining fire. Red beings with deformed, inhuman faces which looked like they were constantly on fire shot up towards the sky, making what appeared to be like cracks into the crimson sky.
'HYIIIIIIII!' Bell yelped in surprise, shaking again. 'T-this really is hell!' He observed. What had he done wrong to deserve the punishment laid before him? Back in Orario, hell was only given to the worst of the worst. The most impure of souls. Bell was— or so he thought; far from the worst. Really far.
'Are these what demons look like?' He made another observation. 'I can't believe they actually exist.' He grimaced. Demons were a term that was rarely used as their existence is only rumored, with many gods or goddesses being unaware of the existence of even the word. He grew worried of what they were going to do to him. Were they going to force him to climb a spiked tower as lava gradually rises while they whip him? Were they going to get a laugh just by breaking his femur and casting him away to feed a corroded old man? The possibilities were endless. Bell didn't like any of them.
*CRASH*
He had initially braced himself for impact, ready to embrace the fall and the inevitable pain that would coarse through his body like a snake. But it never came. Instead, he crashed into the ground as a black, seemingly a gooey substance cushioned his fall. He rolled to the right. He had to get up quickly.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!" A voice bellowed. Bell turned towards the source off into the distance. His eyes widened. A giant skull with only a spine and two arms caught his attention. The white— seemingly colorless flames covered the back of its head, almost like it was its hair. It was a bit jarring. It's not everyday you see fire hair. His face paled, it was almost as white as his hair. Then he noticed two other combatants. One was larger and had a metal chin guard. He sported red goggles, helmet, armor that covered almost his entire body and what seemed to be a metallic arm. 'A prosthetic? How is that possible?' Bell glanced at the two. He then noticed the other one. He was wearing black teashades, a bandana, pants with a bizarre-pattern that Bell didn't recognize and had a double-helix pattern on his back. Both of them look human, but their skin tone is grey. When it comes to the uncanny valley, these two were the most comfortable. Too human to be considered demons, especially compared to the monstrosity battling them.
"I have to help them!" He exclaimed, jumping across platforms and platforms to reach the duo battling it out.
It didn't take long for Bell to reach them, they were luckily not too far from his position. He took out his knife as he saw tiny forms of the giant demon pop out from the black substance he had seen previously. However, they were charred and worn. They were darker in color and significantly smaller than their larger counterpart.
"HYAH!" He shouted, driving the knife into one of the entities. It went limp, implying it was dead. But something was different. Instead of disappearing into a black gas like he expected, it remained there.
'Nng.' He internally sighed. This was going to take some getting used to.
"I've never seen a grunt look like that before." One of the figures said behind him, pointing what appeared to be a form of flintlock pistol at him. The design was bizarre, and so was the person using it. Pistols or rifles were never really used in Orario for how slow they were to reuse. While they packed quite a punch, even against higher level opponents, they were just too slow to fire to be practical in combat. Still, Bell knew danger when he saw it.
"W-wait! I'm trying to help!" Bell quickly explained, taking the man aback slightly,
"Help? Now that's one I haven't heard in a long time." The man replied with obvious skepticism present in his words.
"I mean it! I want to help!" He reiterated, shanking another one of the entities that tried to leap onto him.
"I don't know who sent you, but you need to get out—" The man continued, but he was interrupted as two of the same entities jumped on him simultaneously. With the assistance of Bell, they were able to dispose of them both. One by stabbing, another by the gun.
*BANG*
Bell quickly covered his ears. He hadn't fully realized how loud guns were, let alone what they were.
"New to guns, huh? You'll get used to it." The man chuckled. Finally making some progress, Bell decided to introduce himself.
"I'm Bell Cranel." He said, taking a glance at the least human— and largest of the trio.
"I'm Sanford. That big guy over there is Hank."
"N-nice to meet you, Mister Sanford." Bell replied, stuttering as he did so. He was nervous, as any man would be if they were stranded in hell with two other guys fighting a giant demon and its babies.
"Drop the 'Mister,' you don't need it." Sanford said. Bell tilted his head a little. In his world, saying a name with no honorifics would imply an extremely close relationship, such as a best friend or etcetera. Did Sanford think so highly of him already?
Unfortunately, his thoughts didn't last long, as he was ganged up by several of the entities. Too many to count, he lost his balance as they attempted to push him into the black substance again.
"Kid! Hang on, I'll get you out!" Sanford exclaimed, firing some shots into some of them. He was faring no better than Bell was. With one final push, Bell fell through the floor.
"BELL!" Sanford yelled one last time as his voice echoed through his mind.
MEANWHILE, IN PURGATORY.
"Goddamn it, Deimos." A foreign voice entered his range. Bell didn't recognize this one. Even if he did, he wouldn't have time to process it as the black substance launched him towards the source of the voice.
"WOAH!" Another voice came. "What the hell is that!?"
"Calm down. He appears to be friendly." The masked man said. Bell looked up and analyzed the two. One wore a white tank top underneath his vest and a cap whilst stone covered his body like armor.
'So cool..' Bell thought as he turned to the other one. The man sported goggles with an "off-center detector" which resembled a doctor's headlamp. There was an armored contraption which the man breathed through. It was foreign to Bell, but he thought nothing of it. There were bandages around his jaw, a collared black vest, and a dark gray shirt.
"What's your name?" The masked man asked.
"I-I'm Bell Cranel. I'm a Level 1 Adventurer." He quickly responded, standing up as he did so. The two gave him confused looks— indicated by the raised eyebrows, but responded anyway.
"I'm 2BDamned, some people call me 'Doc.' I'm not a real doctor though, so don't call me that." He introduced himself. He then continued, "Over there is Deimos. You can see the stone attached to his skin. He has the ability to summon and detach it at will."
"I do?"
"What are you doing in a place like this? As well as your peculiar appearance." Doc questioned, ignoring Deimos' question.
"Well, I died, I assumed I was in hell." Bell began. "As for what I look like.. uhmm.. I guess I can say the same about you two."
"Well, no matter. Apart from skin tone, we all look human enough." Doc started. "Your facial features are similar to ours, although you have hair."
"What about my hair?"
"It's rare for anyone to have hair these days. Forgive me if I seem confused."
"N-no! It's alright." Bell reassured the duo. The moment of peace didn't last long, as more black substances began to appear behind him. Large humanoids with red shades, yellow masks or goggles with armor covering their bodies began to appear.
"Bell, do you have a weapon on you?" Doc asked.
"Oh, yeah, I do." Bell replied, taking out his knife. Battered and worn, it looked like it could give out at any minute.
"That won't do." Doc shook his head in disapproval, tossing a handgun at Bell, which he caught.
"That's an M1911– or if you really want to call it; the Colt 1911." He began. "It's a short-recoil operated action pistol that fires .45 ACP rounds at 85 rounds per minute. It holds 7 to 8 rounds per standard box magazine."
"Uh…" Bell stared at the pistol. As powerful as it sounded, it seemed too good to be true. Pistols- or any gun for that matter weren't that reliable in Orario. He gave it a shot anyway.
*BANG* *BANG*
With the trigger pulled, the hammer drops and the gunpowder is ignited, launching the projectile and cycling back the action as the shell is ejected. The ringing in his ears was almost as deafening as the gun itself. Bell glanced at the 1911, amazed at how a gun could be so effective and deadly without the drawbacks he had expected. While this happened, the two— moreso Deimos took his attention. He jumped and twirled high and inhumanely fast. At certain points, it seemed like he would float in mid-air until he willed himself to fall. When he punched, he either went through their skulls or made massive dents which killed them instantly. The ground indented beneath his feet and the walls broke as he punched them. Needless to say, Bell was both terrified and wonderstruck. His eyes sparkling like stars while simultaneously looking like he was going to vomit at any minute. It would've been comical if the situation wasn't so dire.
...Then he tripped.
Bell fell into the black substance again. The two rushed to him in an attempt to save him, but they were too late. He fell into the abyss again. By this point, Bell was getting used to traversing this way, so he placed his arms to cover his face to brace for another impact.
*CRASH*
He rolled, anticipating an attack from either the entities or the agents. Instead, he found an old man with a black beard that sported a religious outfit under heavy armor with a rifle being ambushed by several of the aforementioned agents. Even more peculiar; there is a halo above his head. Without thinking, he grabbed his knife and M1911. Somersaulting into view, Bell disposed of two quickly, but four remained. One of the agents rushed Bell, catching him off-guard. The agent uses his left hand to point the pistol away from his face while using his right to punch Bell's face. With Bell temporarily dazed, the agent uses this opportunity to use his right hand to twirl the pistol out of Bell's hand and pushes him down with his shoulder and tripping him with his right leg, successfully disarming Bell and forcing him on the ground. Not one to give up so easily, Bell stuck out his leg and spun fast. The agent fell flat on his face. Not long after, both regained their footing while another agent snuck up behind Bell and held him in a chokehold. Utilizing this chance to beat Bell down without hesitation, the other two agents watched in amusement with a smile on their face, completely ignoring the old man behind them despite their buddies being massacred and torn apart by said old man. With quick thinking, Bell took out his knife and stabbed the agent behind him, threw him over his shoulder and into the other agent. Only two remained.
"I'm not giving up just yet.." Bell declared silently. Knifeless, he somersaulted to his pistol, took hold of it and shot the final two rushing towards him with their swords, still somewhat shaken by the experience of the beatdown and the recoil of the firearm.
"Impressive." The old religious figure approached Bell with a sword in hand. Bell quickly raised his arms and waved it slightly in an attempt to convey to the man that he wasn't hostile. With this motion, the man only smiled. Bell tilted his head and raised a brow, but ultimately paid no mind to it.
"H-hello, my name is Bell Cranel." He introduced himself for the third time.
"I purge the wicked. I am the instrument of Armageddon." He began, earning a sweat drop from Bell with the odd introduction. "I am the saviour, the son of the lord. Son of God. I am Jesus Christ."
"..."
"I have risen to the heavens after my demise in three days, I turn water into wine." 'Jesus' reinforced his claim as he materialized wine into his hands.
Blink. Blink.
"EEEEHHHHHHHH??" Bell exclaimed. The son of God? Which god? Or was it specifically God? The god of the gods? There was also something that sounded somewhat similar to another god back home. Bell began tapping his fingers against his head.
"..."
"..."
"DIONYSUS!?" Bell shouted again, flabbergasted at the fact that a god would be in hell— and looked so much more different than he had remembered. His mouth agape and frozen stiff like he was made of stone, unmoving like a statue.
"Unfortunately, no. You must have me confused with another being like myself. I am the saviour; the son of God."
"???" Bell stood silently. Jesus could've sworn— if he could; that he saw question marks floating above Bell's head. Jesus only chuckled at the boy's obvious cluelessness.
"Well, my child. I am pleased to see your soul has not been corrupted by what Nevada has troubled you with." Jesus began. "Rarely do I see a soul as pure as yours in the Nevadan wastelands." Jesus ended as he instinctively patted Bell's head. His hair was soft and mildly thick. Bell's face grew red and smoke emitted from his ears. It was embarrassing to say the least.
"Um.." Bell began. "Can you tell me about this… 'Nevada'?" He finished, still red from the head pat.
"You're in it now." Jesus replied. "Where the souls of the damned are subjected to eternal violence and mass killings." Jesus said in a fairly hostile tone. Not necessarily directed at Bell, but his words were most definitely laced with poison.
The imagery and figurative language used by Jesus didn't help Bell so much, as it only reinforced the notion in his mind that he was in hell and was being punished for something. Although the term "Nevada" was certainly unorthodox to him.
"Can you… elaborate.. please?" Bell awkwardly asked. Fortunately for Bell, he nodded.
"It all began long ago, when a man named 'Hank' went after a man simply called; 'Sheriff.'" Jesus began. "He had unleashed damnation upon us when he activated the Improbability Drive which tampered and corrupted reality as we knew it." His hands shook as his eyebrows deepened. His halo shone brightly as he took a deep breath.
"We have made significant progress, especially as I— albeit, inadvertently destroyed the Improbability Management Drive which allowed reality to repair and correct itself." He continued. "However, we have yet to purge the rest of them."
"I see.." Bell peeped. 'At least I'm not in hell.' He mused internally. Jesus took a glance at Bell. While less armored or equipped than what was expected of a common Nevadan, he had experienced and survived his first true battle in the Nevadan War. Cuts and indents on his person were present. Black, blue and purple dominated his skin.
"You have fought well, my child. Let us rest." Jesus praised as he began disassembling his rifle and putting it on his back. His hand hovered over Bell as a white light glowed from his fingers. A warm feeling swept over Bell.
*SHLOP*
"Not agaaaAAAAAIIIINNNNNN!!—" Bell screamed in surprise as he fell into another abyss, somehow more violently than the last two times he did. He took a quick glance at Jesus. He was still smiling, although his eyes were a tad wider as his pupils traveled from place to place.
'Maybe he wasn't expecting this either?' Bell thought, crashing into the floor with Jesus.
"Kid? Is that you?"
"Oh. It's Bell."
"You guys know 'im?" Three voices remarked. Two familiar, one unknown. Bell stood up straight and observed his surroundings. Sanford, Deimos and Hank were there with him. It wasn't until now that Bell noticed that their grey skin looked a bit like clay.
"Yeah, he's with us." Sanford replied.
"Hey, long time no see." Deimos waved.
"I see." The now identified voice; Hank approached Bell. It was obvious that he was looking at the face of a newbie. The white hair stood out the most to Hank.
"Never knew we had rabbits in Nevada."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Bell trembled. Shaking violently, but he was smirking. A dark aura emitted from his silhouette, so much so it almost took solid form. By this point, three thoughts penetrated his mind. Three-way split between laughing maniacally, breaking down into tears or downright tearing Hank apart and then killing himself. It took all of his mental restraint to not grab the 1911 Doc gave him and shoot Hank right then and there.
"Heh.. hehehe.." A chuckle escaped his lips, still shaking. Sanford and Deimos, obviously noticing the atmosphere around Bell, decided to interject.
"Alright, kid. Mind telling us—" Sanford began as he was interrupted.
"Jesus?" Hank noticed, grabbing a sword off of the ground. Jesus summoned his own sword with no hesitation.
"It would be wise of you to not engage me at the current moment. We have a civilian in the vicinity." Jesus warned, not taking his own advice by summoning another sword.
"The score's 3 to 3, Jesus. I'm not afraid of gaining the advantage right now." Hank rebutted.
"WAIT!" Bell jumped in between the standoff. "We can't fight right now!"
"Get out of the way, kid. Someone in front of me needs some ass-kicking." Hank urged, his hands gripping his sword tighter than before.
"Perhaps Young Bell is correct. It would be unwise to fight regarding our current circumstances." Jesus threw aside his swords. Taking the chance given, Hank threw his sword at Jesus which was intercepted by his red and translucent barrier. It seemed intangible, yet solid. "How unfortunate. It seems that you haven't changed, Hank."
"Hank, I think we need to find a way out first." Sanford suggested, pointing at nowhere in particular. Hank looked at Sanford, then looked at the room. The room was grey and aesthetically lacking. It consisted of a table and four chairs in the middle of the room. There was a dispenser on each side of the wall of the room with a computer crudely attached to it. The room appeared to be 90 x 90 meters in length and width whilst the height is undetermined. The room stretched as high as the eye can see. However, there was a disturbing lack of doors. There was none. Noticing this; Hank decided to charge his right arm and punch the wall with as much force as he could muster, but no damage was seen. No dent, not even a scratch.
"What the hell?" Hank remarked.
"I like the decor. It's very austere." Sanford commented with Deimos nodding behind him. Jesus, already making himself at home, decided to sit in one of the chairs and take out his bible.
"If this is what I have to deal with in purgatory, I'd rather just be dead." Hank grimaced at the wall.
"Speaking of 'dead,'" Bell began, "if this is purgatory, how did you all die?" He questioned, sitting down on the chair across from Jesus.
"I got caught off-guard." Deimos answered simply.
"Hank and I killed a bitch and we got transported here." Sanford added, with Bell concluding that "a bitch" was most likely the white demon he encountered earlier.
"The circumstances of my death are unknown. I have yet to discover it myself." Jesus cryptically replied. "I would have been resuscitated by now, but a force is preventing me from reviving myself. Instead, it's directing it at you, Bell." Jesus said, somewhat dejected as he did so.
"So, kid. How'd you die?" Sanford asked, sitting down on the chair beside Bell.
"I was in the dungeons and got cornered by a Minotaur." Bell muttered quietly, looking downwards as he clenched his hands on his pants. "I.. was too weak. I couldn't—"
"Shut up." Hank interrupted, gaining the looks of Sanford, Deimos and Jesus. Bell flinched at the harsh words from Hank. "The second you start putting yourself down is when you start to put others down." He continued. Bell looked at Hank, tilting his head and raising his brow.
"You don't want to stay weak, do you?" Hank questioned, earning a shaken head from Bell. "Don't pervert your goals with your concerns. God forbid I've done that sometimes myself." Hank ended.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Hank.. being nice?? WHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO THE REAL HANK!?" Deimos shouted, pointing comically at Hank. Sanford was similarly dumbstruck, having a look of disbelief on his face only further exemplified with his widened eyes and gaping mouth. Jesus smiled in approval.
"Bite me, asshole. I'm too tired to be pissed right now. I just didn't want to deal with his whining." Hank snarled.
"It seems you may have changed after all." Jesus commented.
"If any of you say anything about this when we get out of here, I'm going to personally castrate you."
"There's the Hank we know." Deimos laughed his ass off.
"Whatever it may be, I have the capability to revive you, Bell." Jesus informed, to which Bell perked and stated in his direction.
"Eh? But I thought—"
"My powers are limited to you, but I have a hypothesis for this." Jesus continued, "During the Normality Restoration Events which occurred, our reality interacted with yours, merging to a certain point to where either due to you invading our universe, the Improbability is affected or something from our universe that carried over the Improbability is affecting your universe." Jesus explained.
"Dumb it down for me, Professor." Deimos jested.
"In other words, the most probable is that we are closer to your reality than we are to our own, which is being affected by the Improbability. We are no longer abiding by the laws of our universe, we are abiding by your universe's laws. The only way for us to return and fully restore normality is if we eliminate this abnormality."
"I said 'Dumb it down for me, Professor.' What did you not get?" Deimos reiterated his request to no avail as Jesus had ignored him.
"This theory is questionable, however, as it leaves many questions unanswered or gives vague answers at best. But the fact remains; purgatory is constant in all universes." Jesus ended.
"I see.."
"In any case, would you like me to revive you?" Jesus asked.
"..." No response given. It seemed like he was frozen stiff until he got out of his chair and fell into a dogeza position— which raised some brows.
"Please train me!"
"..."
"I beg your pardon, my child?"
"I want to learn everything from you. I want to be strong. I want to be like all of you!" Bell declared with fire in his eyes.
"..."
"No."
"Eh?"
"Answer's 'No', kid. I've got no time to train you when I've got an organization to take down." Hank coldly gave out, attempting to punch the wall again with no success. Bell's eyes began to water, but he was nothing but persistent and wasn't about to take 'No' for an answer.
"Please! I beg of you! Teach me how to fight!" Bell repeated his request with increased intensity. The fire in his soul ignited. He was willing to get stronger no matter the cost. Hank looked at Sanford who shrugged and skipped over to Deimos who violently nodded. Sigh.
"Fine, kid. I can't punch out of these walls anyway." Hank rubbed his temple with his left hand as gave in. Bell's eyes sparkled in delight, to which Hank put up his index finger.
"But I've got a condition."
"Yes, Master Hank!"
"No complaining allowed."
"Understood, Master Hank!"
"Okay, good."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Don't call me 'Master' either."
MEANWHILE, IN THE DUNGEONS.
Bell's body begins to float as it lights up in a bath of photons. It was almost blinding compared to the dim lighting of the dungeon. Then, a blast erupted. *BRAAAAM* A visible ring of gas blasted off of Bell's body as a shockwave shook the cave and made its presence known by the loud sound it had generated. Bell stood up quickly and checked himself before looking at the previous site of his death.
"So this is what the 'dungeon' you've talked so much about looks like." Deimos commented, whistling at the large and empty space.
"It's kind of empty." Sanford remarked. "I like that."
"I never would've thought we were just in your head, kid. That explains the lack of language barriers between us." Sanford's voice echoed in his mind. 'I hope this doesn't go on when I sleep.'
"Oh, we're still here no matter what." Deimos laughed. "We can hear your thoughts too, you know? With the 'in your head' situation and all that." Deimos continued. Bell internally sighed. 'This is going to be annoying.' He thought as he sweatdropped.
"You and me both, kid."
"This would make my previous theory invalid." Jesus said, turning the page of his bible.
"It's not completely off the table. We weren't just brought here by coincidence." Sanford comforted.
"Perhaps you are correct. In the future, we shall see whether or not my hypothesis holds merit."
"Um, guys?" Bell interrupted.
"What's up, kid?" Sanford replied.
"How do I do the… stone skin thing?"
"Oh, that's for me." Deimos shoved Sanford away from the computer. "Just think about it and it'll appear."
"Okay.." Bell clenched his fists as he prepared himself. 'Stone skin, now!' He thought.
"..."
"..."
"BWAHAHAHAHAHA—" Deimos fell off his chair as Bell covered his face in embarrassment, thinking nothing had happened and he had just done something stupid. But something was off. His skin felt rough. He took a quick glance.
"HYIIIIIIIII!" Bell exclaimed in surprise, causing Deimos to laugh even harder than before. His arm was coated with stone. His chest, back and mouth as well.
"You don't look half bad, kid." Sanford complimented, hoping to ease Bell's embarrassment a little. "Want a look, Hank?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Stop asking. I'm trying to get some shuteye without you four botherin' me."
Bell inhaled and exhaled, easing his tensions a little, he made it a goal to venture deeper into the dungeons— almost completely forgetting about the encounter with the Minotaur— or the fact that he was still covered in blood from whatever monster was slain in front of him while he was dead. It certainly wasn't from when he was alive, and Bell knew of that. Someone must've attempted to save him, but they were too late.
'I have to thank them later.' Bell made a mental note as he rushed down the cave.
"What's on your mind, kid?" Sanford asked, regardless of the fact that he would know everything Bell would think.
"I don't know." Bell responded. "A lot of my mind is just what happened. 90% of it probably. The other 5% is probably how I'm going to explain to my goddess what happened."
"What's the last 5%? Like, taxes?"
"No. It's nothi—"
"GODDESS??" Deimos shouted, causing both Hank and Bell to jump in surprise.
"SHUT THE HELL UP." Hank bellowed in annoyance from his corner. Deimos switched to a whisper.
"Goddess?"
"Y-yeah. They came down to our world a millennia ago." Bell answered, Deimos gripping onto the computer significantly harder than comfortable.
"Anyway, before Deimos gets a hard-on, you should find something to test out your new skills before you leave." Sanford pushed Deimos away from the computer.
"Right." Bell rushed further down the corridor.
'ORRRAAAAAAAA!' A familiar sound echoed through the cave, although several days in the upper levels of the dungeon would obviously condition you to be accustomed to some of the creatures here. A dog-headed humanoid entered the view.
"What the hell is that?" Sanford asked.
"That's a Kobold; a dog-headed monster. It's one of the weakest enemies in the dungeon."
"Well, let's test it out." Sanford suggested, sitting up straight.
"Right." Bell brought up his fists as he ran towards the Kobold. With a swift motion, he brought his right fist down and bashed it into the Kobold's head. *KCRAK* It broke apart like a glass cup shattering on the floor. Blood splattered over the floor. It disappeared into smoke as fast as Bell could blink. His mouth agape, he stared at his hands. 'What power…'
"Don't let it go to your head, kid. You've still got ways to go."
"O-of course, Mister Sanford." Bell yelped.
"I said to drop the 'Mister,' it's fine."
"R-right." Bell continued, taking the dropped shard and placing it into his bag.
"How long will I have to keep doing this to get as strong as you all?" Bell muttered to himself.
"I would say 'not much', but then I'd be lying." Sanford jested, causing Bell to internally sigh.
"I know you guys told me to take my time and learn the basics, but…" Bell paused as he picked up what appeared to be a fang. It didn't appear to have been dropped from the Kobold slain not too long ago.
"An item drop?" Bell said, picking up the fang and smiling not too long after. "Lucky me."
"I don't know what's so good about that thing, kid. Just looks like a fang to me." Sanford remarked in disapproval.
Before Bell could answer, the dungeon walls gave way to what it seemed like birthing new Kobolds. He turned his body to the source.
"What's happening there?"
"They're respawning." Bell said nervously. 'There's so many… should I run?' Bell thought.
"Don't even think about it, kid. You have to get stronger somehow." Sanford denied.
"I-I'll do it!" Bell put up his fists for round two. Deimos chuckled at Bell's progress. Standing up, he approached the computer and added his own comment.
"This is where the fun begins."