Ryder waited for me in the center of the Refuge, at the very same place I had faced Amit and his friends. Unlike those three however, Ryder was alone and gave me time to prepare. Disturbing. He either knew a sure way to kill me in the heart of my Dungeon, or he was insane and just didn’t care. I wanted to believe it was the latter, but underestimating him would have been a mistake. He was a shadebound Player like me.

Everything was happening so fast. I was in a daze—as if this was still the dream that I had shared with Devi. I wanted to change the dream. I hadn’t seen any corpses yet. Hadn’t seen Erika or Val. Maybe they weren’t actually dead. Maybe. Even that lie was cold comfort, knowing that this nightmare was far from over. Imaya would end up dead too if I wasn’t careful. And who was I kidding? I wasn’t careful. I didn’t have thorough plans, I didn’t have much foresight. I winged everything that came my way and I shied away from responsibility. Why had I thought that it would be different this time? I wasn’t cut out to be a Dungeon Master—or a leader for that matter. I was going to disappoint everyone. This very same story accompanied me through my whole life, repeating over and over. There was nothing I could do about it.

We couldn’t allow ourselves to think like that, though. Not now, when we needed to focus. Eyes out for danger. We walked to the center of the city alone, the warm light of the fluorescent plants lighting our way. Our footsteps echoed off the empty stone buildings on either side of the street. This part of the Refuge was unpopulated still, and perhaps it would remain so for a long time. No one wanted to live in a place where Players regularly beat each other to the death.

Ryder was sitting on a broken portal disk at the edge of the square, the same piece of stone that Sean’s unstoppable bolt had pushed us through. Imaya stood in front of him. Her hands and feet were free, but the black metal of Ryder’s weapon was wrapped around her neck and mouth. She stirred when she heard our footsteps, her eyes wild and frightened. The black weapon shifted around her face and she let out a muffled scream, her fingers clawing at the metal desperately.

“You came,” Ryder spoke, his eyes burning fiercely as they bore into us.

“I did.”

Ryder stood up, one hand shoving Imaya aside while his other hand held up the control crystal. Once he was sure that we saw it, he smashed it against the ground. The crystal shattered into pieces.

“Fake Core,” Ryder said. “Fake power.”

We weren’t particularly bothered by the loss of the crystal – we could always create a new one – but we found it alarming that Ryder had seen through the trick. He had also figured out that he could pin us down if he took hostages. Perhaps he wasn’t as mad as we had first believed.

“Let the girl live and I’ll fight you.”

“We don’t trust you,” Ryder growled. “Youuu don’t fight honestly. Give, give, give! Give us the Dungeon Core. Then, the girl will be free. If we have the Dungeon Core, then you will fight us.”

We hesitated. If it had been Devi’s life on the line we would have handed over the Core without hesitation—but for Imaya? She didn’t have much value. We—I winced, clutching at my head, taking a step back. My prosthetic leg buckled, and I staggered a bit. Great. Now I truly looked unhinged like the Mad Painter. Two madmen, facing each other…

Unlike Devi and most of the Painters, Imaya didn’t have my Mark of Replacement on her. She remembered what I had done to Simon and knew the risks of carrying one. Swapping places with her could have saved her life right now, but she hadn’t trusted me enough to wear my Mark. Seeing how I was hesitating right now, that trust sure as hell didn’t deepen any further. I felt a sudden surge of shame.

Against our better judgment, we summoned the Dungeon Core and dropped it. So be it. We gave the Core a gentle kick to send it rolling toward Ryder. We could play the same trick again. Ryder would be able to shape the environment with the Core now that the control crystal was gone, but it wouldn’t matter much. He wouldn’t have time to figure out how to do it before we killed him.

“There you go,” we said. “Now it’s your turn to show how honest you are.”

Ryder’s right hand touched Soul Seeker behind Imaya’s head and the black material slithered away without harming her—much to our surprise. Imaya had the presence of mind to activate her dash immediately, speeding off to take cover. Ryder let her go. How odd. He didn’t even give her a second look, just stepped closer to the Core and bent down to pick it up. We chose that moment to attack.

Our strike was quick and decisive. We allowed for no wasted second; our arm was already moving as we teleported Soul Eater into our palm and flung it with deadly precision at Ryder’s head. He saw the blade coming, but he had no time to dodge. He didn’t try to block either. His lips drew back in a toothy grin and he shifted his head so that the dagger hit his neck instead. Soul Eater bounced off with a sharp ping, having struck his Player collar. Ryder straightened up slowly, holding the Core in his left hand.

You are no longer the Dungeon Master of Randel’s Refuge

The Core vanished from Ryder’s hand while Soul Seeker expanded along both of his arms, connected by a thin line of black metal with the orange gemstone at the middle of his chest.

“Good,” Ryder growled. “Now, we fight.”

“In a way, yes,” we said, raising a hand. “Fire.”

Small shapes emerged on the rooftops around the square, holding decay rifles that we liberated from the gangsters who had raided our Dungeon. We had only four of the illegal weapons, but those were more than enough to cover every angle. Ryder barely had the time to look up before a ray of decay hit him in the back, and then another hit the side of his head. His hair grew longer within moments, its roots becoming white before completely falling out of his head, the flesh beneath rotten. Ryder bellowed incoherently as he shielded himself with his metal-covered arms and ducked to the side.

“Behind youuu!” Ryder said, pointing at one of the rooftops. We focused on the Thardos who stood up there, finding the Mark on his palm and triggering it to swap places. Ryder appeared behind us at the same time, swinging a clawed hand, but we swapped places with one of Devi’s clones that were stationed nearby. We couldn’t see what happened next, but Ryder’s furious howl confirmed that he was not satisfied with the outcome.

We walked back to the square with brisk steps. The Thardos we swapped places with had already passed his rifle to another Thardos who wore our Mark. These Painter volunteers certainly didn’t lack enthusiasm. Ryder in the meanwhile was struggling to avoid the other three rays of decay. He realized that had no chance up on the rooftop, and so he dropped out of sight to the street behind him.

Blinded by anger and old like a crone,
He scampered across the streets of stone!

Stanley hovered high above Ryder’s head, singing and keeping pace with him, marking his position like a beacon. Our Thardos shooters scuttled along the rooftops, repositioning themselves to harry Ryder. We walked to another one of Devi’s clone and waited.

“Randel?”

Imaya approached us with tentative steps, clutching a piece of wood as a weapon. Her eyes were red from crying and her legs were shaking, but she came closer anyway.

“What is it?” we asked.

“How—how can I help?” Imaya asked. “I don’t have my gear with me, but I want to help.”

“You don’t. You can’t. We risked the Dungeon to get you back. Risking your life would make this all pointless.”

Besides, this wasn’t a heroic rescue mission anymore. It was just a gruesome execution.

“I’m sorry,” Imaya said, her voice trembling. “I’m so—sorry. I couldn’t protect them. I’m—”

“No,” we cut her off, “the fault is ours. We could have prevented this attack. Don’t worry, we’ll take better control in the future. We won’t let this happen again.”

Imaya shuddered under our gaze and looked away. The clone beside us lifted a hand, opening a portal to one of the streets.

“Stay here,” we told the scared little girl as we stepped through the portal. We teleported Soul Eater into our hand and activated our vambraces to don our dark armor. Devi was waiting for us on the other side, her sword already humming with energy. We shared a single glance, then looked up at Stanley over the houses. He was close. We were ready. A moment later Ryder turned around the corner, scrambling toward us like a dog, chased by rays of decay fired from the rooftops. His unkempt beard was missing in patches and his wrinkled mouth was halfway open to reveal rows of blackened teeth. His furious eyes locked onto me.

“Raging spirit!” he bellowed. Orange veins spread across his skin, and the black material around his hands turned into long blades. Ryder’s speed increased as he charged at us, ignoring everyone else, his sword-arms ready to strike us down.

Nosy didn’t give him that satisfaction. Light glinted on his metallic skin as he dropped from the rooftop onto Ryder, arresting his headlong rush, mauling his face. Ryder cried out as Nosy gouged at his left eye with claws of steel, and he reshaped Soul Seeker into long claws to pry the panther off him. We darted closer while he was distracted, stomping our mechanical leg for an extra burst of speed.

Ryder wore rags. No Player armor, no magic equipment. Rags. We swung Soul Eater at his chest, and the only reason he didn’t die right then was because our blade glanced off his ribs. We ducked beneath his swinging claws and kept moving, moving past him. He turned to face us, one hand trying to pry Nosy off as the panther bit deep into his shoulder, the other hand reforming into a sword again. That was when Devi slashed at his leg, leaving a deep cut across Ryder’s thigh that severed muscles and tendons and perhaps even bone. Devi jumped back when Ryder swept his weapon at her, and while he was distracted we threw Soul Eater into his lower back.

We began to shape and expand Soul Eater within Ryder’s body, but he must have known it was coming because he let Nosy go and tore out our weapon immediately. Devi stabbed him in the stomach next—a cautious strike so that she didn’t hit Nosy by accident, but causing severe injuries nevertheless. Ryder tried to grab the blade with his Soul Seeker, but Devi just powered it off and stepped back.

The smell of blood and burnt flesh filled the air. Between the panther’s weight and his injuries, it was a miracle that Ryder was still on his feet. He tore Nosy off his shoulder and threw him to the ground, his one remaining eye jumping frantically between us and Devi and Nosy. His shoulder was mauled to the bone and the side of his face and neck had several deep gashes, but glowing orange liquid congealed over the wounds so that he didn’t bleed out. He swayed on his feet, then fell to his knees with a grunt.

It was over for him, but we didn’t let up. We teleported Soul Eater into our hand and shaped it into a spear. Nosy got to his feet and bared his canines. Devi stood on one side, we stood on the other, Ryder between us. Decay rifles pointed down from nearby rooftops. Stanley played a solemn tone above. Ryder looked like a corpse. A decaying, bleeding, mauled corpse. A corpse that grinned when a translucent notification flashed before him.

“Domain: Pocket Dimension!”

We were already thrusting our spear forward when Ryder spoke, but the space between us seemed to have stretched out so that we couldn’t reach him in time. A black hole ripped the fabric of the Waking World open around Ryder, whisking him away just as we struck. The black tear sucked us in a moment later, and for a disorienting moment we were flipping through the air, falling, before landing on our feet as if we had stood there all along. Our extended spear met Devi’s energy blade right where Ryder’s head should have been. Ryder himself was missing.

We whirled around quickly, putting our back against Devi’s as we scanned our surroundings. The Refuge looked inverted. That was the best way to describe it; inverted. The nondescript stone buildings were about the same gray as before, but the plants that grew on them were black—as if they were sucking in the light instead of emitting it. The shadows were bright white, disorienting and hard to look at. Everywhere we looked, the edges of the stone structures had thick contours as if someone sketched them in a hurry. It wasn’t truly an inverse-colored version of the real world, part of us noted, but the lights and shadows had taken each other’s place. More importantly though, the place was empty.

Nosy, the Thardos volunteers, Stanley, and even Ryder were missing. Only those who came in contact with that black hole could enter this Domain, perhaps? Since this was his Domain, Ryder had to be here somewhere. Hiding and licking his wounds, no doubt.

“Welcome to our Domain,” Ryder rasped.

We spun around, lifting our spear just as Devi raised her sword, facing Ryder as he dragged himself out into the open at the end of the street. It looked as if he would collapse in any moment now—yet he chose to face us anyway. We were pretty sure that this Domain wouldn’t be able to save him; Domains could alter reality, but they weren’t exclusive to the Player who cast it. If Ryder could do something in this inverted world, so could we. The only benefit he got from this place was that he had separated us from the others.

We reached out mentally for our Marks of Replacement, but we were only able to feel the pair on Devi’s wrist. We then tried teleporting Nosy to our spear without any success. We were reasonably certain that Devi wouldn’t be able to open portals to her clones outside either. It meant that finishing Ryder off was up to the two of us.

“Youuu are weak,” Ryder slurred, his ruined face making it hard for him to articulate. “Weak in characterrr, weak in strength.”

There was no point in engaging him in small talk. We walked toward him calmly, Devi at our side, mindful about traps.

“Youuu do not fight fairrr,” Ryder continued raving. “We will kill you anyway. We will kill you! Regenerate!”

At his last word we threw our spear at him—but once again we were too late. Ryder’s wounds closed rapidly, his flesh regrowing, his rotten skin renewing even as Soul Eater flew toward him. He caught the spear in a clawed fist, stopping it cold right in front of his regrown eye. A savage grin split his face, white teeth flashing as he looked at us over the length of the spear.

“Now the real fight begins.”