Slime stepped into the ramshackle church. It was creepy and dark, with shadows dancing on the floor, dust floating in the air, illuminated by the moonlight, with a hole in the roof. The eaves were dusted with cobwebs, and it was grimy and filthy. There was a statue at the end of the room, of a woman, draped in cloth, with her hands held out and up. Her face was down, shrouded with cloth, and Slime slowly approached the visage of a goddess.

A chill wind blew through, and he shivered despite himself. Blue hopped up to the statue and studied it in silence, and Slime stared at it in silence. It seemed creepy and morose.

“Do you like it?” came a voice, and Slime turned. There was a little girl in a smock standing behind him, hugging a massive sword that gleamed with gold inlays in the darkness, and he stared at her. Was this a NPC or a player?

“Like what?” he asked, and she tilted her face up to look at the statue. Her wavy dark hair spilled over her shoulders, and she closed her eyes and inhaled the dust.

She was beautiful, in a haunting way. Dark skin, looking Middle Eastern, with soft brown eyes and thick lashes and freckles. Her knuckles were busted, and there were calluses on her hands. There was blood on her smock, and she looked to be about eight or nine. That was a little young to be a player, so maybe an NPC?

“The statue,” she said, and opened her eyes. “Do you like it?”

“It’s… very well made,” he said after a pause, and she smiled at him.

“I’m glad you think so. Once upon a time, someone worked very hard on this,” she said and lifted up her hand to gently touch it. He needed to get better about this mana sensing thing. He hadn’t even felt her approach. If he had felt that party coming, maybe Richie wouldn’t be dead.

“Yes, it’s very good craftsmanship,” he agreed, and she looked over at him. The light hit her eyes, and for a second, it almost looked like they were glowing gold.

“Do you think it was a kindness, what you just did out there?” she asked, and he paused. A kindness?

“No. I think I just killed people,” he replied, and she smiled at him.

“Is that what you think?” she asked, and sat down cross legged with the sword in her lap. “So, you think there was no kindness in your decision?”

“I think… I think they were killing people, and there is no justice here except what you can do with your own two hands,” he replied, and she tilted her head, her hair spilling over her shoulder. She had dirt on her face. She looked really dirty.

“Is that so,” she murmured, and placed her chin in her hand. “I once believed in kindness, you know.”

“Once believed?” he asked, and tilted his head. “But, you don’t believe in it anymore?”

“Kindness is hard to come by, nowadays,” she murmured, and he was quiet. “I used to be the symbol of it, but now… Now, I’m not much of anything.”

The symbol? He had a feeling this was important. Something he should pay attention to. Slime couldn’t put a finger on it, but this little girl felt relevant.

“If it’s hard to come by, shouldn’t you cherish it all the more?” he asked, and she smiled at him.

“That’s true,” she replied, and then she looked down at her sword. “Kindness is a lot like hope. Hard to find, hard to hold, but you have to fight for it.”

“Are you an NPC?” he asked, and she laughed softly.

“There are no NPCs in the tower,” she replied, and he paused, because that felt like it should mean something. “Would you like to know a secret?”

“Okay…” he said slowly, and she patted the ground next to her.

“Sit with me,” she said, and he slowly took a seat, staring up at the statue. She studied it herself, and then she propped her chin in her hand.

“I used to be her,” she said softly, and he blinked. “I was… an incorporeal spirit in this church. Haunting the last place my worshipers used to come to to pay their respects. And, then, suddenly, I was made physical again. Just a few hours ago.”

So… This was an NPC. A goddess, and wasn’t it a little early for him to be meeting goddesses? He felt like it was a little too soon. He was barely…

“Status window,” he said, and sure enough, he was level 10. Apparently, you really did get extra XP for killing other players.

“You think it too soon to meet me?” she asked slyly, and he swallowed. All of this was wrong. The fact that he didn’t take piercing damage, the fact that he had survived a quest which he presumed ended in death for most players, the fact that he had to face a mini boss instead of killing twenty slimes… Something was wrong.

“Yes. I do,” he replied, and she laughed softly.

“Maybe it is,” she said, and stretched out her legs. She looked like an ordinary little girl. He didn’t know what she was doing here. What he was doing here.

“What were you the goddess of?” he asked, and she smiled.

“Spoilers,” she whispered, and he blinked. “I think… Yes. I think I’ll join you.”

“... Huh?” he asked, and she came to her feet.

“I will be joining your adventuring party,” she said, and he stared at her blankly.

“I don’t… have one?” he tried for, and she offered her hand.

“Well, you do now,” she said slyly, and he stared at her in silence. Was he making an adventuring party? But… she was clearly trapped in a mortal form. Did she even have access to her magic? Or whatever it was? Was he going to be defending her all the time? Who was he kidding, she was a goddess. Of course she could fight without magic. Right?

“What do I call you?” he asked, and she tilted her head.

“I suppose Hope works,” she replied, and he studied her in silence. Well. This was fine, he guessed. He was now adventuring with an eight year old.

“Then, you can call me Slime, and that’s Blue,” he said and pointed to the slime, who was sitting at the foot of the altar and staring up at the statue in awe. What was he paying attention to?

“Hello, Blue,” she said and reached over to pat Blue gently. “Now, I believe we have to get some sleep.”

“Do you… need to sleep?” he asked awkwardly, and she sighed.

“This is a mortal form, so, yes,” she replied, and he nodded a few times. That made sense. Okay, then.

“Alright,” he said, and looked around the abandoned church. “Then… I guess we just go to sleep?”

“Alright,” she agreed, and promptly laid down, curling around the sword and hugging it to her chest. He was worried she was going to cut herself, but she appeared to be attached to the sword, so he wasn’t going to tell her no.

This was taking a weird turn. He didn’t know where to start with it. He was a little freaked out, if he was being honest. He read a lot of manhwa, and all of this was pointing to some serious main character vibes. And he did not want to be the main character of the tower. That sounded like a lot of people would have it out for him. But… If he kept his head down, it should be fine, right? Yeah, it would be fine.

He just… He needed to go to sleep. Yeah, he was going to go to sleep.

….

Slime and Hope walked through the crowded marketplace, decked out in new clothes. Hope was wearing a shirt tucked into tall pants, with a thick leather belt and her sword, which was significantly smaller than it had been last night, belted at her waist. Slime had gone for boots, thank fucking gods, high waisted pants, and a vest over a pale cream shirt.

He had bought a shovel, and he was not looking forward to burying Richie. Their bodies had been stacked up in the church, and he supposed he should bury the five others, too. It was Richie that really mattered, though.

But, because he bought the shovel, he couldn’t get a sword, which was bothering him. They still needed to eat, so he needed to carefully manage his funds, in case they couldn’t complete a quest. He still needed to kill the boar, and he was not looking forward to that. But, he had managed to get an inventory bag, so he had inventory slots now in his status window. Which was a relief.

“Let’s eat some food before we bury them,” Hope said, and Slime nodded, because he was hungry. Hope stopped at a stand with meat skewers, and Slime counted out the change for them, handing them to the man, who took it and handed Slime two skewers. Slime took a bite, a little freaked out by the fact that he didn’t chew anymore, just swallow, and Hope chowed down on the meat skewer with a look of bliss on her face.

“Oh, I missed food,” she said dreamily. “Thousands of years of incoporality will do something to you.”

“Is that even a word?” Slime asked, and she laughed.

“Sure it is,” she replied, and took another bite of the meat skewer. Slime swallowed down another whole chunk, and the two of them walked towards the edge of the starter town. They came out into the clearing, and Slime finished his skewer before he put the stick away in his inventory bag. They headed for the church, and Slime hefted the shovel over his shoulder as they walked.

“It’s kind of you, to bury them,” Hope said quietly, and Slime pursed his lips.

“Well, they all had people waiting back home for them,” he replied as they walked around to the back of the church. There was a small graveyard out back here, and Slime stabbed the shovel into the soil.

Six graves. It would take six graves, and Slime felt a little ill. He killed five people, and failed to save one. He still didn’t know if he made the right choice or not. All life was precious, but he thought…

He thought he might have made a mistake.

The sun was sweltering as he dug. It took longer than most people realized to dig a grave. He worked all day long, unable to sweat, and Hope brought him water from time to time from the well out back, but mostly, she just watched and sharpened her blade. It took pretty much all day to dig all six holes in the ground, and soon, the bodies were laid to rest with the sun low on the horizon.

He didn’t want to think about it. He had killed people, but he knew that was how this world worked. You killed, or you were killed. There were no two ways about it. But, it still rubbed him the wrong way, because what was wrong with people? Why did they just start killing as soon as the rules went out the window?

He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand how, when the rules were absent, you lost your damn mind and immediately turned to murder. It seemed wrong to him. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.

The graves were dug when the sun was low on the horizon, and he sat down next to Hope to take a sip of water with one of the cups they had bought. It was cool and sweet, better than any water he had tasted back home, and he leaned his head against the wall of the church and stared up at the sky, painted in rose golds and pinks and purples. It was a beautiful sunset. There were sparse clouds in the sky, and he couldn’t help but stare.

“I was thinking tomorrow we could take a goblin quest,” he said, and Hope hummed.

“That sounds good. Will you be using the shovel?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied, and stretched out. “I’m going to go get the bodies now.”

He stood up and walked into the church, looking around at the dust sparkling gold in the fading rays of dusk, and then he picked up Richie’s body.

Rigor mortis had already passed, and he was limp in Slime’s grasp. His head lolled back, and Slime carried him with heavy hands to the grave out back. He laid him down in the dirt, and then he stared at him for a long few moments. He barely knew him. He was nobody, really, but all Slime could think was that he knew him in all of his regrets before he knew him in all of his triumphs. The two of them could have teamed up and made a party together.

It was strange, to mourn what could have been, when everyone that could have mourned what was were gone. His family were probably mourning him. He would never come home, and it stung something in Slime’s chest, because that didn’t seem right. That didn’t seem right to him at all. It felt wrong. It felt so wrong, and Slime…

Slime wanted to survive to tell Emerald that he was sorry.

But, that meant climbing the rest of the tower. All the way to the end.

He didn’t know if he could do it. But, he was going to try.

He was going to try.

Slime stabbed the shovel into the pile of dirt and threw it over Richie’s face. The dirt slowly began to cover him, and Slime scooped the dirt over him and covered it in a thin line, spreading it out as evenly as possible. He knew he should say something about him, but he didn’t know what to say. It was a mystery to him. There were so many words, and Slime had none of them, because he barely knew the man.

And the man was dead, and only Slime was left to mourn him.

It was…

Slime didn’t know the words to express his feelings on the matter. He was reminded of when his cat, Dazzle, died. She had kidney failure, and died before he could honor the appointment for the euthanasia. She died in his arms, and he took her out back and buried her in the dirt. He had to dig up a lot of rocks for it, and he made a little cairn for her, to protect her body from the coyotes and javelina. He had loved that cat more than words could express, and never managed to get another cat.

He still missed Dazzle.

This was not like that. It was not like that at all.

He thought of all the funerals he had missed over time. All the friends he loved that died, and he thought about why he always missed funerals. He had never wanted to mourn with other people. He had never wanted to share his grief. It was a failing on his part, because now all he had to share his grief with was a mortal goddess who probably didn’t view death the same way as him.

Richie should have made it to the end, he thought bitterly.

He should have made it to the end.