...or not.

They had returned back to the platform. The rush of adrenaline from the fight still ensnared everyone as they drowsily steadied themselves from the sudden shift of surroundings. They stepped into a familiar floor of lumpy but smooth rock with a content haze of success encircling them.

“Good work, everyone!” King exclaimed breathlessly, a beam of a smile etched across his face. Cheers collectively surged throughout the expanse of rock.

“You say that as if you're the commander of this party.” Rosary retorted, giving countenance for a light, amusing environment.

Everyone was in the middle of silently regaining their energy from the exhaustion of victory when Lantern spoke, shattering the peaceful silence.

“I still can’t believe Slime Fell…” She rested her cold palms against her knees, shaking her head and feigning a bereft behaviour. Some murmured low responses, while others stayed quiet. Rosary barely managed to contain a sigh of exasperation.

Butterfly interrupted before Lantern could say more from her mouth, unintentionally saving them from an elongated speech regarding honour and sacrifice. “Right. In any case, haven’t we stayed here long enough? What are we still lingering in this place for?”

“We should start looking for a way out at once.” Rosary agreed. Everyone saw eye to eye in this matter, including Lantern, who grumbled a low acknowledgement in acquiescence.

“I doubt mindlessly searching for an exit will do much, though. Surely, it can’t be that easy.” Pen added before anyone could act upon their determination to leave and suddenly run off. 'There isn't even an opening. Except the water.' A collective shiver at that.

“Oh? So what do you suppose we do, then?” Lantern repositioned one of her hands on her hip, her head tilting to the side.

Sariel thought for some time and suggested, “Let’s wait for the sun to rise.”

It seemed that everyone was in tune with that idea as they went back to resting as a method of passing the time before dawn - albeit not leisurely. Everyone knew not to act heedlessly when anything could brusquely take place in the neck of the woods.

That being the case, the Dreamers began to participate in a long and arduous waiting game. Time flowed unhurriedly and what felt like excruciating hours sailed through the gloaming, yet nothing occurred at all. A river of unease swept through Sariel's mind. He started to turn restless as the clock in his head pounded away continuously with incredible vigour. Still, countless minutes passed and not a thing had changed. The other Dreamers started fidgeting. Finally, Lantern announced what everyone was musing over.

“...Why aren’t we back yet? What happened?”

Butterfly nodded at this, ascending from his position. “Lantern has a point. I don’t think biding our time will prove to be fruitful. We should search for a way out-”

With a shrill screech, a stalagmite pierced through the ground where Sariel had been standing. He had dodged, of course, but everyone switched into battle stances while they held their breaths, eyes scanning for anything in their field of sight.

“What was that?” Lantern yelped, stumbling back to look at the ceiling above her.

Pebbles rattled softly as the platform trembled. A subtle rumble sprang around the area. Sariel thought that the shaking must have caused one of the more fragile stalagmites to break off. Gradually, white wisps started to manifest in front of the Dreamers. It then coalesced into a large pond, mixing white spirals with grey ones, spinning into a darker colour within seconds.

“...Another dungeon?” Rosary commented in disbelief.

“Oho. Well, folks, there’s nothing to it than to enter!” King chuckled zealously, ready to take anything on with his energy completely replenished. Both Butterfly and Sariel dipped their heads in agreement.

“Let’s go, then.”

---

As Sariel experienced the one-way trip down, he had a little bit of time to reflect. Something was very off.

The time you spent on Otherside was always strictly eight hours. From 0:00 to 8:00 was strictly the time that any Dreamer could stay there. After that, you were either in the depths of the Abyss or back in the waking world.

It was possible that the length of time that had passed felt longer than normal due to having nothing at all to do, but it felt strange.

Well, nothing to it aside from the next Dungeon. It was one problem at a time.

---

The first thing Sariel noticed was the crash of the ocean, flying then plummeting to create repetitive booms, rocking against the surface he was on. Opening his eyes, he found himself in a medium-sized pirate ship, adorned with skulls and crossbones flags. As he whipped his head for clues, he spotted a row of cannons placed along the wooden deck, ready for battle. Sariel noted that down for later use.

The ship had a well-worn and weathered appearance, as if it had been on countless voyages, but it was not decrepit. No, it looked brilliantly menacing. The hull was made of dark, polished oak wood with multiple mythical sea creatures carved on its sides. The sails were a deep shade of red, with patches in places from years of use. Spindrift harshly painted the deck every now and then, bringing the potent smell of salt that wafted through the air closer to everyone.

The Dreamers marvelled at the ship's grandeur, but it was impossible to miss the palpable sense of foreboding, as if the ship was waiting for something, or someone. They looked around cautiously, their weapons at the ready, as they tried to piece together what was going to transpire in this dungeon. The Abyss wasn't beneath surprise attacks. (In fact, Sariel believed it wasn't beneath anything at all.)

“We’re in the middle of the ocean.” Akira noted. “Don’t tell me we have to fight in such a limited space?”

“I assume we have enough time to think it over and prepare.” Sariel pointed at the sky, where, in the midst of the cloud filled horizon, a great clock hovered midair. The slow-moving, golden hands trickled around the gunmetal rim of the device in a menacing manner and gave a thundering tick every time they needed to strike. It glistened in the air, allowing a fog of malaise to unfurl.

In the middle of contemplating his worries, Sariel caught a glimpse of Lantern out of the corner of his eye. She was making her way towards the helm of the ship when King aimed a finger in her direction, “Hey! What do you think you’re doing, Lantern?” She had already leaned her elbow against the steering wheel when she hummed a response.

“Come on, don’t you all think I deserve to lead the group this time around?” She rhythmically tapped her nails on the lacquered wood of the wheel. “I mean, you saw how well I handled the situation last time. It’s only fair, right? Plus, I happen to know how to steer ships.”

King immediately gesticulated his displeasure. He was about to protest and proclaim that he should be the one to play captain, but to everyone’s astonishment, Rosary concurred with Lantern’s statement. “Fine. Let her do as she pleases and see how good she fares.”

'Well, then. Can we check out the cannons? Is there any way to operate them?'

Sariel's eyes were already on the mechanism. There was no rope to light nor gunpowder to load; instead, there was a conveniently placed button written in a foreign script.

Otherside had many foreign scripts, usually being based on the zone in which they landed. The dungeons utilized a mix of these scripts as well as unknown ones to produce writing. Sariel had only learned the one from the Kingdom Zone- it held the most writing for people to study, and he had a lot of time to roam around. It was called English, and the Kingdom Zone seemed to be called the 'United Kingdom'.

There was a year where Sariel was fascinated by Otherside. The year after his bartending business took off, and he could finally rest easy. There was a story here, he realised. Within the scripts and languages there was a world beneath it. But he was unable to find any useful information in the papers within the castles. The scripts wrote of a land to the west of the Kingdom Zone, a piece of land that was also part of the United Kingdom.

He tried to fly over, but was dragged back. He was tethered to the Dreamers, he realised. And he would never find the answers without going there himself.

Oh, and his brother. That too.

'The cannons have a button that shoot a projectile,' Sariel relayed, to which everyone nodded. It was pretty obvious. You didn't have to study six months for eight hours a night to know that much. A call from a crew member alerted everyone to a store of cannonballs below deck. As they hauled them up, the clock above shattered and sent debris sinking into the ocean.

A brigantine, emerging from the depths of the ocean as if returning a portion of the debris it had just sustained, rises up beside his ship. The Dreamers stare in disbelief as the ship breaks the surface of the water, water cascading off its sides as it emerges. Could the Abyss not just use normal entrances? This was, in fact, the second time today the enemy came from under the ground! Reusing ideas? How unoriginal!

The brigantine was an impressive sight, with two towering masts and a collection of sails that billow in the faux wind. Sariel watched the strange crew of the brigantine scurrying about the deck, preparing the ship for battle. He saw the glint of metal as they readied their weapons, and heard the shouts and cries of the sailors as they prepare to board.

He moved swiftly, loading up a cannonball and dragging the cannon to aim at the incoming ship. It was a two-masted vessel with a square rig on the foremast and a fore-and-aft rig on the mainmast. ('What do these words even mean? Who knows these things?' thought Sariel.) The black sails billowed in the wind, and the ship glided effortlessly towards the Dreamer's ship.

The hull was carved out of dark wood, with a sleek, streamlined design that suggested speed and agility. The ship's bow stood pointed and angular, while its stern was broad and slightly curved. The ship had a raised deck at the stern, where the captain's cabin and steering wheel, or helm, are located.

And at the top of it all, on the crow's nest of the ship, stood the solitary demon above.