As the woman tumbled down the nigh-endless shaft, she screamed in rage. Then she realized she didn't remember why she was so angry and screamed in even more rage. Her hands reached out trying to slow herself down against the slick pitch black walls with strange white glyphs, the motion as futile as her attempts to remember anything.

Her screams of rage stopped as she realized how much trouble she was in and how little screaming would help. Then she checked her status, something that came reflexively before she realized she didn't know how she knew how to do it. The dismal results came up.

[Name: Nameless (Inability to have name due to a curse)
Type: Person (transformation to Pestilence in progress)
Subtype: Human (transformation to Wretch in progress)
Sub-subtype: Forest (transformation to Cursed in progress)
Word: Curse
Word: Curse
Word: Curse
Word: Curse
Word: Curse
Error: You should not have multiple instances of the same Word.
Sigils:
None
Error: You should have at least one Sigil associated with your Word.
Boons:
None
Potential error: It is really unusual to have no boons at all.
Effects:
Curse of Weakness
Curse of Namelessness
Curse of Damnation
Curse of Illness
Curse of the Lost
Curse of Loss
Curse of Doom
Curse of Pain
Curse of Horrors
Curse of Passion
Curse of Overheating
Curse of the Wretch
Curse of Fire
Curse of Blood
Potential error: This is an excessive number of curses.]

As the nameless person swore with a rather vile word she was surprised she knew, one with connotations of incestuous goat fucking, another notice appeared.

[Investigating just how you got this seriously messed up.]

At once, the person stopped falling, held in midair. No, everything had stopped except the thoughts racing through her mind, her body unable to move. The thought crossed her mind that clearly something, no, many things had gone wrong for her to end up in this state and this whole situation. But before she could really begin in on the speculation, Voice (which she somehow knew to be the name of the thing displaying those messages to her, as well knowing that it was created by someone's Transcendental to make the power of Words and Sigils easier to access) displayed another message.

[The cause of your irregularities was determined to be getting hit by a Transcendental cursing effect. I will rectify the impossible aspects of your status and leave in place everything else.

My plan is as follows:

Remove all instances of the Word Curse except one, leaving four blank Word slots. You will have to earn Words to fill those.

Shift the meaning of the Curse of Damnation to allow you to have Boons and Sigils again.

Start first Boon selection.

Start first Sigil selection.

I will start now.

What Boon do you wish for?]

"Something that will help me survive this fall!" the woman shouted in her mind.

[I endow on you the Boon of Tower's Resilience as kindly permitted to me by Tower himself.

What sort of Sigil connected to the Word Curse would you like to have?]

"Thanks, Tower! Voice, I'd like a sigil that lets me remove curses!" the nameless one silently yelled.

[That will not grant you what what you wish for until you become sufficiently proficient to negate the power of a Transcendental attack. If you still wish for this sigil, I will grant it to you. Otherwise, would you instead like one that will allow you to change the meanings of your curses? It will still be a slow process to shift your curses to something you will be happier to live with.]

"Shitting (incestuous goat-fucker) who did this to me. I'll take it," Nameless said.

[You have gained the Sigil of Change, linked to the Word Curse. Time will resume. The Boon of Tower's Resilience should help you survive the fall, but I suggest aiming as soon as possible for a Word or Sigil that will help you heal from the inevitable damage caused by the fall.]

And so Nameless resumed her fall. As she fell, unable to do anything to slow her fall, she reviewed her curses while wondering at her presence of mind to do so. And the short version was that she was completely screwed. Absolutely, totally.

The Curse of Weakness weakened her across the board.
The Curse of Nameless rendered her unable to bear a name.
The Curse of Damnation slowed her acquisition of Boons and Sigils.
The Curse of Illness made her health poor and rendered her prone to getting ill.
The Curse of the Lost prevented her from having any sense of navigation at all.
The Curse of Loss was responsible for her amnesia and loss of everything she had before.
The Curse of Doom meant her doom was inevitably and slowly encroaching.
The Curse of Pain made her prone to occasional pains and her pain more intense.
The Curse of Horrors meant she would be always shadowed by Horrors.
The Curse of Passion intensified her emotional reactions.
The Curse of Overheating rendered her prone to easily overheating.
The Curse of the Wretch was responsible for her ongoing transformation into a Wretch.
The Curse of Fire would cause her to occasionally burst into fire.
The Curse of Blood would make her bleed more profusely, taking longer to clot.

She screamed in rage and dismay for a short while before calming enough to decide to prioritize trying to change the Wretch curse since it was easily the most urgent one. But as she was concentrating on trying to shove that into a different meaning, her body hit the floor. Pain so sharp she couldn't think shot through her and by the time she recovered, she was already feeling weak from blood loss. Needless to say, her body was scarlet with blood, only her Boon of Tower's Resilience keeping her from dying outright.

She tried to rise, or at least to thank the hero Tower for his boon, but her body just wasn't cooperating. Even with her boon-augmented resilience, there were limits. It was simply impossible for her to get up with the shape her body was in. Yet she didn't stop trying, because to give up would mean death. And also giving up on her revenge.

Whatever she did, she would find and kill the bastard who did this to her, whoever they were because she had no idea who.

She would kill that bastard.

She would kill that bastard.

She would kill that bastard.

She would kill that bastard.

She would kill that bastard.

After a time unknown to her but likely not that long, her constant efforts to get up and get going to kill that bastard were rewarded with an announcement from Voice.

[You have regained the Word Relentless. Select your first Sigil tied to the Word Relentless.]
"Something that'll let me heal," she thought.

[You have regained the Sigil of Recovery, linked to the Word Relentless.]

Immediately, she activated the Sigil, directing power through it in a manner that felt well-worn, second nature to her. But something was off about it. There wasn't enough power flowing through it. So she pushed, harder and harder, forcing the Sigil open gradually, even as pain both physical and immaterial shot through her, even as the healing of her body threatened to slow. Until something gave. It was almost her body that gave. Almost her power that gave, too.

[Sigil of Recovery updated to the level of a Transcendental Sigil. Know that this was only possible because you already had this Sigil at a Transcendental level before. Also you have inflicted serious strain upon yourself, your soul, and your power. I do not recommend trying this again.]

"I'll heal," Nameless spoke, her voice coming back to her, "And you don't need to tell me that this method isn't a great idea. But I shitting needed that healing."

While concentrating upon her goal of killing that bastard, she got up and started walking toward an opening in the round wall of the shaft, only to fall again, the natural smoothness of the floor slippery with blood. And she just laughed uproariously, then once again remembered she still had to prevent herself from turning into a Wretch. Seriously, no thanks, those things didn't even have proper minds! She directed the ragged but healing strands of her power through the Sigil of Change, slowly nudging that particular curse toward a different yet related nature, since that was the easiest and honestly only manageable course of change.

Once again pain shot through her and she almost stopped. But her relentless nature carried her through, and the curse slipped smoothly into a new form like a forced rubber ball getting more than halfway through a hole and popping out. Examining it, she now saw that it was now the Curse of the Monster, which naturally would turn her into a monster. That... was at least tolerable. Not ideal but tolerable. Some monsters were intelligent and even managed to become accepted members of society... more or less.

And maybe she would get a more acceptable body than her current musclebound masculine hulk of a body. Really, the only good thing about it was how short she was. Though she liked all the denim she was wearing. A denim jacket, a denim shirt, jeans, denim-covered shoes. Ah, denim was so great. And this outfit was apparently self-cleaning, too, it was already free of blood! The outfit helped lift her mood, but the thought of all the curses afflicting her soured said mood again.

With a sigh, she resumed walking toward the hallway visible through the wall's opening, keeping an eye out for trouble even as she half focused on trying to wiggle the Curse of Doom into a more manageable curse. It and the former Curse of the Wretch were the ones that would certainly kill her, as opposed to merely massively increasing her chance of death.

Like that, she proceeded down the long hallway, stopping only when an overwhelming migraine overtook her or a part of her burst into flames that had to be put out. She was only able to somewhat make some progress on the Curse of Doom when the hallway ended in an open circular room, one still made out of the same black material with white glyphs.

In the room were:

1. Numerous bones.

2. Numerous tattered remains of clothing and shoes.

3. Numerous dropped weapons. There were even guns, but they were broken, rusted, or depleted.

4. Numerous miscellaneous items useful for exploring the more forsaken areas, such as ropes and other climbing supplies, lightrods with

likely expired batteries, backpacks, healing kits, and more.

5. A more or less fresh corpse of a blonde pale-skinned man in a fancy party suit, definitely no older than today. Judging from the bloodstains he had dragged himself from the shaft entrance only to die here.

6. A pink slug-like monster gnawing upon the corpse.

In short, there was only one sort of place she could be: a Labyrinth. Dangerous places full of monsters, and all the unnecessary decor (not all those bones would have been real for example) went with the territory. They were seen as many things; proving grounds, treasure troves (sometimes you could find some really worthwhile things), birthplaces of monsters both civilized and uncivilized, and deadly killers.

Carefully, Nameless began crossing the room while trying to make as little noise as possible and stay away from the monster's notice. She made it halfway as it focused itself on eating the corpse before a previously hidden smaller version of the monster spoiled things for her by spotting her and shrieking in a nearly ear-shattering sound. The bigger monster lifted its head, its eyestalks turning her way, and she muttered, "(Vomiting shit-eating monkey)."

It moved faster than a giant slug monster should move and as she punched at it, it caught her fist in its mouth and a part of said mouth moved, scraping countless raspy teeth against her hand. The pain as her hand was effectively shredded nearly made her faint, but the pulsating of her Relentless Word and its healing Sigil kept her just conscious enough to desperately search with her other hand for a way to kill the thing.

And she found a hole on the side of the head where air was moving in and out. So she jammed her hand right into that hole. Immediately, it started writhing, trying to crush her underneath its weight. But her hand remained lodged in there no matter how much the hole walls squeezing shut threatened to crush it. She continued pushing her arm further in even as its bones broke then was healed by her Sigil.

It took longer than it should for the monster to die, making her wonder if it had another source of air, but finally the life in its body stopped. Woozy, she pulled her battered hands out and flowed healing energy into them, then sat down, collapsing onto some rather uncomfortable bones. And she thanked the gods her jacket sleeves already were repairing themselves.

Nameless breathed in deeply, trying to recover herself, when she saw the small slug monster making its way over. Sharply, she took in her breath, waiting for it to make a move to kill her while she was this vulnerable. But it just stared warily at her with its eyestalks, then slowly began to eat the larger monster's corpse.

With a sigh, Nameless began doing the same thing, tearing pieces off with her teeth then holding those pieces as she chewed on them. It was terrible in taste and texture. It also was fuel she urgently needed because of how much she had pushed herself so far, so she ate more ravenously than the quality of the food warranted, until she could eat no more.

Then she watched the smaller monster which watched her. With a shake of her head, she said, "So I've got things to do. A bastard to kill, a wherever this is to get out of, and memories to recover. What about you? What're you gonna do? Did I just kill your parent or whatever? You don't seem to hold it against me, thank the gods."

No answer. She shrugged and got up, trying to brush the sliminess of what she had just eaten off her hands onto her self-cleaning jeans. A few attempts later, she gave up getting all the stickiness off her hands as a lost cause. After searching for a workable weapon and ruefully noticing that none of the guns were usable, she picked up the most intact axe she saw and left the room into the next hallway. She noticed the surviving slug following her.

An odd routine somehow emerged. Her wandering through a forking mess of hallways and round rooms all of the same materials, while the slug followed her. Killing the occasional monsters in messy (and painful to her) ways; choking a blue four-eyed tiger-like monster while it was clawing at her, bashing at the head of a machete-wielding owl-ape with the handle of her broken axe while trying to hold her spilling guts inside, nearly drowning along with the giant four-winged lizard she was drowning, all while the slug watched her fight as if trying to learn something. Sharing the corpses of the monsters she killed with her slug companion. Looting dead people for any useful weapons or other items, only to get what she found destroyed in the many fights. Working on changing the Curse of Doom. Now and then swearing as a migraine broke out or she burst into flames.

The cuteness of the slug, particularly when it started tearing off bits of meat from the monster corpses with its raspy tongue-thing and trying to offer the morsels to her, was the only thing somewhat relieving the whole dreary ordeal. Watching it zipping around at abnormal speed was also entertaining. She took to cutting off meat with an intact knife she found then holding the mat aloft while the slug lunged to pull it out of her hands, or tossing the meat pieces to the slug. Sometimes she just fed it from her hand.

Finally Nameless managed to push her Curse of Doom into changing, but when she saw what it was about to become, she panicked and wrestled it with her power just as it was settling into "Doom shall fall upon your companions." No. Just no. With a feeling of her power and her soul tearing, she pushed it back to what it was before.

She looked at her reverted curse, then at her slug friend, and sighed. "You better appreciate what I just did for you."

The slug just raised both of its eyestalks higher. But then it crept over at unnatural speed and pressed itself against her. Nameless looked at the slug and slowly began petting it, ignoring how slimy it was. "Guess you do, even if you don't know what I did. I... I'll have to make another go at changing that curse when I'm recovered. But I'm not gonna allow it to affect you."

They sat there like that for a while, until Nameless felt recovered enough to get up. With a sigh, she began working on changing the Curse of Doom into something else than that. The routine resumed, until eleven rooms and four monsters later, a notification appeared.

[You have consumed enough power from the dead to evolve. This will complete your transformation into a monster. You cannot refuse this evolution. I will now pass you to the one acting as a guide for monsters' growth and development, much like how I act as a guide for the acquisition of Words and Sigils. I will continue to aid you with your Words and Sigils, but all other development will be handled by them.]

Immediately, wordless information began to fill Nameless's mind. As she fell into a vision of sorts, she saw her slug companion begin to change.