Let’s Not [Obliterate]

Her idea of asking her Class for help in shambles, Theora started grinding her head for potential other ways out of this situation.

There is one thing, a tiny thought in her mind came up, but she squashed it with no hesitation, and did her best to come up with anything else.

She looked down at her nightgown. It was stained with grassy streaks now, and she’d accidentally torn a little hole into it while walking through the brushes. Her heart ached upon seeing it.

“I wish I had my coat with me,” she murmured.

“Oh, are you cold?” Harrik asked while pacing up and down the forest to help himself think. “I can create a heat source.”

“No,” Theora said. “It’s just, there’s still an Orb of Seven Wishes inside.”

He stumbled over a root and knocked his head against a tree trunk.

“What? How did you gain one of those?”

“Quest reward,” she murmured. Of course, being inside a Shade with its own rules, even the Finding Wish of the Orb might not prove successful, but it would have made for a decent try.

“Ah, sure, I see,” Harrik let out. “Quest Reward. They hand them out like candy nowadays, huh?”

Theora frowned, massaging her neck in thought. “That’s actually a really good point. I sometimes forget to open my quest rewards. Maybe I still have some left. If we are lucky, it might provide us with ‘candy’.”

She popped open her logs, wading through System notifications with the help of some filtering options Isobel had shown her.

And sure enough, there was something.

About fifty years prior, she’d dispatched Umbra, Ruler of the Seventh Sea. But she’d never opened the rewards in this entire time. Her heart beat rose slightly as she gazed over the logs. Oh, how long has it been since she was excited for what she might receive? It would be so relieving to find something she could use to help the Shade.

 

You have killed Umbra, Ruler of the Seventh Sea.

You have completed a Side Quest.

Rolling rewards…

Result: [Epic Tier Reward Box]!

 

Open [Epic Tier Reward Box].

You have received 5.000 Credits!

You have received 1.000 Points of Renown!

You have received 6 Skill Points!

Rolling final quest reward…

You have received a Golden Apple!

 

The apple materialised in a burst of light in front of her, then fell to the ground, and rolled a short distance before coming to a halt. 

Harrik stared. “Wait a second. If that’s from a quest reward — doesn’t that mean you got Credits? Maybe there’s something in the shop! Oh, and Skill points? You could use them to—”

“No,” Theora murmured. “I bought out the System shop a long time ago. Nothing left there.”

“You what?”

Theora picked up the Golden Apple. 

“Is that— Oh god, that’s an [Epic] item!”

“Speaking of Credits,” Theora murmured. “I could transfer some to you. Is there something in your shop that could help us out?”

“Already tried,” he said, shrugging. “I mostly used materials from the shop to create the items I have here. There’s nothing left that would help, that I haven’t already gotten, I’m pretty sure.”

That’s right — he was pretty high Level. He would have had quite a few Credits too, even without solving quests from the Hero Project. Theora sighed.

She looked at that apple. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t help them here, either. It was a one-time-use item, and she’d already eaten one long ago, and didn’t even remember for what.

And yet, she was really happy to receive it. She untied one of the laces on her nightgown and wrapped the apple in the lower part of the dress, then bundled it up with the lace to make sure she wouldn’t lose it.

A Golden Apple might at least prove useful to Isobel.

“Alright, this was worth a try, I suppose… But I think we are running out of options,” Harrik said. He plucked a leaf from a tree in frustration, only for the leaf to immediately reappear on the shaking branch.

Of course, there was still that one thing.

One thing, only very slightly better than using [Obliterate]. Theora really didn’t want to say it aloud though, because if she did, she might really end up having to do it.

“Oh well,” Theora said instead, getting up and walking around. “I’ll just start looking.” 

She made a few steps towards the first rock she could find, and turned it over.

“Not here,” she said, as Harrik stared at her in horror.

“What are you doing?”

“Hey now,” she almost pouted. “I can’t do something unreasonable without having tried a conventional search first.”

“What do you mean, ‘unreasonable’? Also, I’ve already tried! It’s not under a rock!”

“Really? Did you try that one?”

Theora pointed at a boulder behind a few shrubs, about as large as a bear.

He rolled his eyes watching her approach. She stepped around it gingerly, pushing plant pictures aside, digging some of the fake earth away, and scrutinising every inch of it.

“Can I help you somehow?” he asked, although his voice made quite clear that he thought this was a pointless endeavour.

“Just stay far enough away. I’m trying to ensure I won’t hurt any small critters that might have found their way here.”

After checking, she knelt down, and then gently lifted the rock.

Under it was nothing. Not even earth, just an undefined absence of matter portrayed by some grey, fizzing goop of static. The Shade had been a little lazy.

Theora sighed.

“Your strength stat must be terrifying,” Harrik murmured. “But, I really did check stuff. It’s not under a rock.”

“Alright, then,” she said. “I wish to cry.”

He scratched his head, and looked a little lost. “Are you okay? Look, I’m sorry. Maybe we could…” He stared into the air, and then just shook his head drawing blank.

“There is one thing,” Theora murmured.

“Huh?”

“Didn’t want to do it, but if we are left with no other choice…” She let her head sink down, resting her forehead on her palms. “This is… I don’t wanna…”

Harrik tilted his head. “You’re sounding a little ominous. So you are saying you have a plan?”

“It is, in fact, the opposite of a plan. It’s pure chaos. I don’t know if it would even work, but…”

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to. So, if you don’t want to, that’s fine. But if there is any chance…”

“Yes,” Theora replied with a sigh. She raised her arms weakly, then let them fall back down. “Well, remember that one Skill I mentioned? It makes things almost impossible. Or, almost possible.”

He pulled his brows together, nodding slowly. “I remember. But you said you can’t control it?”

“Yes. But let’s suppose, just for a second, that I used the Skill, and by pure chance, it made it ‘almost impossible not to find that item of yours by randomly looking around’.”

He frowned. “That Skill can do that?”

“I have no idea. Let’s say it’s not that strong, let’s say it makes it ‘almost impossible not to find the item with your locator’. Or, perhaps, ‘almost impossible not to find the item with the first incision into the Shade’s body I do with [Obliterate]’.”

“You’re rapidly losing me in this train of thought. I’m afraid I don’t follow?”

“I’m saying, maybe there is a random event the Skill could happen to choose that would let us find the item. Maybe even more than one.”

Harrik bit his lips in thought, looking at a point behind Theora, trying to work through the idea in his head, and pointlessly plucked another leaf. “Alright, yes. That, maybe. Perhaps. If the Skill is even able to manipulate negative events in this way.” He shook his head. “But even in that case, that’s still like, only a one-in-a-million chance the Skill would actually choose that event!”

They ended up locking gazes, and Theora reciprocated his stare for so long that his expression melted into mild apprehension. She just stood there, calmly, with piercing, blank eyes. 

“Then,” she went, “What if I use it a million times?”

For a moment, Harrik was simply stunned. Any immediate words died in his throat against the iron look she gave. He blinked. Frowned, confused.

Somehow, he was aware that she meant it.

“Who in the world are you?”

Theora averted her gaze. “I’m a somewhat experienced Hero who went to a bath house to rest, and was swallowed by a Shade in my bed. And this is my best guess on how we can fetch that item of yours. Even if it’s going to be a mess.”

“I… Yes. That wasn’t… Yes. Alright.”

“The Skill will receive an additional unlock at Level 13. I don’t know if a million activations would let it reach that. I don’t know how experience for that Skill is calculated. I don’t know what kind of unlock it will be, either. Really, anything could happen.”

“So, you’re saying it’s dangerous? For example… What if it becomes almost impossible for us to breathe? To live? To talk? To stay in one piece?”

Theora pursed her lips. “It’s likely going to be very uncomfortable, although I have reason to believe it might not be dangerous. That said, I’d still prefer if you left this place before I used the Skill. I will stay here, find that item of yours, and then leave too. No need for you to be here with me and endure all of it.”

Theora sighed. The Shade would likely receive a massive belly-ache.

“I… Wait, you’re kicking me out?”

“I am not ‘kicking you out’,” Theora said. “What you do is up to you. You can stay, if you want to. I just want you to be aware that it will be unpleasant, and that I would prefer not having to worry about making you uncomfortable.”

Harrik nodded. “I… Well, I get that. But this is all my mess in the first place. Also, I still very much think it would be a bad idea for me to leave this place, if the Shade even lets me. I have my reasons. Plus, you don’t even know what the thing looks like.”

“You could describe it to me.”

“Yes! Yes, I could. Definitely! I’m just saying, it might be a tiny bit of help if I stayed, right? I could use my instruments to confirm things. For example, what if the Skill makes it almost impossible to recognise the item? Almost impossible to see it? So, if you will allow, I’d like to stay. Please.”

Theora swallowed. “Don’t beg. I already told you, it’s up to you. I just want you to know what you are getting into. I have no idea what might happen.”

He gave a sigh of relief. “Alright! Yes, I understand that. But, one thing — you mentioned that you think the Skill won’t do harm? Can you explain why?”

Theora nodded. Of course, one aspect was that she simply didn’t want to believe that her [Stargazer] Class would do anything bad. It hadn’t so far, all it did was cause mischief, but never anything gruesome. However, that was just a wish, not evidence.

The true reason for her confidence was something else.

“If it was possible to do harm with this Skill, if it could cause damage, then it would likely classify as a combat-type.”

“Yes, I agree,” Harrik said. “And?”

“And in that case, it would have been swallowed up by [Obliterate] a long time ago.”

He blinked. “It would have been what?” But then, shook his head and waved off. “Actually, nevermind. If you say so. Whatever. Yes, naturally, the Skill would have been obliterated. Glad we sorted that out.”

Theora nodded. “Then, if you are alright with this procedure, all that is left is to ask the Shade for permission.”

She stood up, and walked towards the edge of the clearing. As she did, she heard Harrik mutter in the background. “Ah, yes, of course. Ask the Shade. Yes. You think it even understands human language?”

“I offered my help through speech,” Theora said. “Then, it swallowed me. So, I believe I might understand some of it. But you make a good point. Maybe it’s not fluent. I should gather some flowers first, to make sure…”

“Gather some flowers first,” he whispered, talking more to himself than to anything else in a desperate plea.

There were probably some flowers to be found here, right?

Theora traversed the clearance and even veered off into some shadows to find adjacent paths, keeping her eyes open for pretty flowers or flower look-alikes she could bundle into a bouquet to communicate her intentions and feelings to the Shade.

She wasn’t certain it would work, but it was a decent attempt. Harrik walked after her, mumbling things to himself while at the same time going through his items to ascertain he had everything he might need ready to go.

Then, finally, with a large bouquet in her hand, Theora went to find a particularly dark spot in the shadows again, in hopes of being able to summon the Shade.

As she touched it, the Shade materialised within itself, a wobbly mass in front of them, scaling between larger and smaller sizes seemingly randomly. Its red eyes were glued to Theora.

“What if it says no?” Harrik asked, somewhat anxiously.

“Then I won’t do it.”

With that, Theora offered the bouquet, and the Shade absorbed it. Then, she relayed the situation in detail.

They didn’t think they had any other options. Didn’t think there was an alternative yet to find.

It could hurt, or simply not work. It could take a while, or feel like an eternity. Ultimately, Theora tried her best to say, in simple terms, that she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

“It might be uncomfortable and confusing,” she explained. “But, please hold still while it happens. Don’t change our reality on your end. If you do, it would be harder to tell which effects the Skill is producing. That is, except for trying to give us the item lodged inside yourself — if the Skill happens to make that easier for you, it would be helpful if you tried.” She mused if she’d forgotten anything, but eventually ended with, “Spit me out if it becomes unbearable. Other than that, feel free to eject us once we have the item.”

The creature nuzzled against Theora, wrapping itself around an arm and even her torso, as if giving a hug. Theora reciprocated by pressing on the fabric gently, until it peeled itself off.

“Lastly,” she said, extending both arms, “Please poke my left hand if you want me to do it as quickly as possible, and have it over with. Poke my right hand if you want us to take our time, and do it slowly.”

The Shade extended a shaky protrusion, wobbling between both hands for a while as if in thought, and eventually, engulfed Theora’s left hand with a soft frizzly sensation.

“Fast it is.”

And with that, all preparations were complete. The only thing left was to start casting the Skill.

“How long do you think it will take?” Harrik asked. “You said fast, but — assuming it actually takes a million tries. A few months? Years? We’ll be here for a while. Do we need to prepare food of sorts? Water?”

“I am somewhat well rested,” Theora responded. “My mind is mostly clear. And, I am in a bit of a good mood.”

Harrik shifted his weight between his legs. “And that means…?”

“I don’t know how long the changes made by my Skill will last. I don’t want to subject the Shade to prolonged periods of this, especially since it chose the short option.” She looked at the makeshift forest clearing. “This is not what the inside of the Shade typically looks like; this all exists to make things more comfortable for us. Typically, the inside of a Shade does not follow the laws of our nature. There is a certain chance it won’t mind [im//possibility] too much, but I don’t wish to risk it. So, I will do my best.”

Harrik frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

“It will be a bit of a strain, but I aim to execute our plan within the span of a minute or two. I will need to rest afterwards, but I should be able to do it.”

Harrik froze.

“If my mind breaks,” Theora continued, “I’ll force myself to continue anyway, and sleep the damage off afterwards. I’ll stop casting the Skill the moment I manage to get my fingers on that item and have your confirmation that it’s done.”

Harrik nodded, and he looked a bit scared. 

“Alright,” she said. “Ready?”

“Yes. It’s a locket. Small, but thick, and heavy. Intricate work of engineering. Lots of small compartments.”

“Thank you. Let’s try.”

She gazed around to take in the exact state of things at the current time, in hopes of recognising her Skill’s effects. There was the large boulder the size of a bear behind her, willows all around, a shrub, some dense, dark spots, rubbery grass, a fake sky. Little flies making their predetermined rounds, roots on the ground, Harrik’s items lying around on the other side of the clearing, and Harrik himself, a few steps away.

And then, she spoke.

“[im//possibility].”