It’s like I’m floating.

 

The crash of energy suspends us both in the air as we are sent flying back, flung apart by the force, as if the world were cracking in two and I float, suspended, alone with my thoughts. Alone with my thoughts, same as always. It’s just you, me and eye again, guy. It’s nice to have friends, you know? I have such good friends, haha! What’s that? Oh. Yeah. Right, we’re dying again -

 

Time resumes as I crash backwards, tumbling and spiraling out of control as my body is smashed into a powder and into so many fragments once again, as I careen to a halt, crashing into the wall of the impact crater that we are nested so deep down inside of.

 

Immediately, my fingers spasm, my body shakes as if struck by lightning, as I am glued back together again. It’s not going to let me die. It’s not going to let me go. The dungeon. It’s sick of me. That’s fine. That’s fine. My eyes narrow as the lance propels back into my metal gauntlet, the clap of metal striking metal ringing out like the dancing of swords as my arm flows outward, as if a wave were coursing through it. It’s fine. I’m sick of the dungeon too.

 

The red-string of fate pulls me back up, now before the energy of our strike has even dissipated. It pulls me up and the heat embraces me, the fire embraces me, the destruction embraces me. But I don’t care. I’m not going to die from this. I’m not going back alone.

 

My skull snaps back upright, my spinal cord popping, as it is mended back together.

 

Through the energy, through the blast-wave I see it. I see it coming. I see it encroaching, sloshing and moving towards me as it senses my energy, as it senses my soul. The thing that breaches, the thing that reaches. Even in the core of the blast, even in the midst of a fight between two nigh-deistic entities, it encroaches, indifferent to the destruction. It can’t be hurt by something like this, something so…

 

Insignificant.

 

My eyes twitch, as I hear it sloshing and slapping, as it feels out along the dirt, as it smells for me, tastes for me, yearns for me. It’s ruining it. It’s ruining my fight with the hero. My perfect duel. It’s ruining it. It’s ruining it! The lance shakes in my hands. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

 

Looking back up behind me, up the length of the crater wall, I leap and stab my lance into the smooth surface. Into the mixture of scorched, dead meat and rock that has almost crystallized from the intensity of our attacks. Pulling myself up, I leap again and jump up to the top lip of the crater, looking back down at the deep hole below that is still filled with so much smoke and ash.

 

What a body this is. What a feeling this is. This strong feeling. Look! Look at -

 

I glare at the thing that pushes out of the fog, the thing that reaches for me, despite still being down below in the hole. But that doesn’t stop it. In disgust, I watch as it reaches the steep wall of the impact zone and I expect it to start scaling the cliff.

 

But it doesn’t.

 

Instead, it presses itself forward, the boneless entity slipping into some impossibly small crack in the wall and it vanishes. I lean down to the ground, placing a hand on the dead meat to feel for the vibrations below and I listen.

 

Thook-thook.

 

It’s coming. It’s burrowing its way through the dungeon. It wants me. It has a taste for me. It wants my eyes.

 

Looking back up towards the crater, I grimace as I realize the horrible truth. I’m going to have to cut my fight short today. But it was so much fun! I had so much fun! It was so…

 

My hands clutch my shaking face.

 

- Cathartic.

 

A shining blade slices through the air, cutting the smoke in half as a surge of energy fills the hole and I look at the hero and he looks at me. Good. Setting my lance down onto the ground, leaning it against my shoulder I raise my hands to my chest, pointing at him with my index fingers, my thumbs in the air and I flash the hero a wink.

 

We’ll settle this later. I’m not going to forgive you. I’m not going to let this go.

 

Turning around, I let my cape swish behind me in a dramatic fashion as I flair my arm out to the side. I want him to look up from down there and see how cool I look, as I slowly walk away with my lance. I bet I look super-cool.

 

The moment I leave his line of sight, I bolt.

 

I run. I run. Feeling the ground beneath me vibrate. Feeling the ground beneath me hum with energy. Hum as it goes bmmmmmm-

 

It does that because the seal is broken, but I think you got that by now.

 

I should have maybe run a second or two ago. But I wanted him to look at me from down there and be like… ‘Damn, that guy’s cool.’ I think I managed, honestly. But more importantly, I need to lure it away. It wants me. But if the hero is here, it might reach for him. I don’t think he can see it. I don’t think he has eyes that can see like mine do. Some hero, huh? He doesn’t even have real eyes. What a fake. Life is so unfair.

 

But this is part of it. This is part of saving everybody. It wants me. So it can chase me. It can follow me to the final floor of the dungeon if it wants to. Because I’m not going to stop. My metal boots clank out loudly as I sprint down the charred road, heading towards the staircase leading upwards. I told the dungeon-master I would behave, if they reset the spawns for my cherished ‘friends’. But that was a lie.

 

Sorry.

 

I run around the corner, and sprint up the staircase as I begin to make my way all the way up to floor seventy-five. I’m sure the hero is hot on my heels, together with his friends. His friends. My fist clenches. I won’t forgive him for it. I won’t forgive him for having friends while I’m here alone, with nobody here but you, me and I. He doesn’t deserve them. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve any of it and I hate him.

 

But I’m still not going to let it take his eyes.

 

The metal of my armor clanks as I ascend into the darkness, as I set to return to my work so hallow.

 

They’re mine. His eyes. I grip the lance tighter as I hear something slosh behind me.

 

I’m going to take them from him. Nobody else will but me. They’re mine. They’re mine. They’re going to be mine, if he likes it or not. And then, when I finally have them, maybe then he’ll get it through his thick, stupid, hero-skull.

 

The truth that nobody sees but me.

 

 

---