SIM was a tool developed in Pantheon to reinforce the user’s Mind Space through a dream-like simulation, where freedom reigned and everything was only limited by creativity. However, an object this powerful drove Immortals mad.

They remained hostage to the illusions SIM granted them. Envision reunions with passed loved ones, an endless supply of treasure and money, defeating enemies effortlessly, and so on. SIM granted all these wishes and the countless scenarios fed into endless lust and greed.

For whatever reason, these users never left, finding a fake paradise inside SIM. Eventually, the inevitable occurred. Thus, Sphinx was hidden away inside SIM for a period of time until the apocalypse came to Pantheon. Or so Sphinx had wanted to explain earlier until Lark had killed him, followed by a thorough sass session.

“What will you do, my ward?” Sphinx peered down from a makeshift cloud chair. He floated above the scenery with a pair of fox-ear hearing aids and underground-ostrich binoculars. “I’m oh so, so curious.”

It appeared only the Cursed Human spawned nearby, however, Lark glimpsed back every few steps to make sure he wasn’t followed.

Sphinx feigned ignorance earlier, but Lark was sure the callous attitude came from dying. Even now, he couldn’t forget that utter despair he continuously felt at random moments. Gushi’s death. His arm and then his own death. And finally Sphinx’s death. The latter having the most chilling effect on his mind. A chill brushed under his arms and ran deeper into him like a cold sting.

It was easy dying. Not so easy surviving. The fact he was immersed in a world set with 75% realism kept coming back to him and what it really meant— were their deaths were 75% real or had a 75% chance of occurring in a forced setting, or what did Sphinx really intend to show him at 100%?

Agitated, Lark nearly bumped his shoulder against a random locker. The rusty metal bracket caught onto his sleeve and left black marks while skinning the top of his skin. He hissed. Gushi bent its antenna downward as if looking in his eyes then to his shoulder. Next, it bobbed up and down in an understanding manner and a piece of the slime split away, the same way a crumb would fall from a cookie.

To Lark’s immediate shock, the dislodged piece went under his shirt on its own to where the scratch occurred and began healing him.

“Didn’t know you could do that. Very cool.” Lark patted Gushi, who seemed to believe he needed the blob of slime left under his shirt for the time being as it was in no hurry to reattach itself.

Lark stepped out in front of the library porch. The Cursed Human currently walked in circles in front of the cafeteria. Low growls echoed from inside its chest once it reached the edge of the building, then it turned around, acting like a haughty security guard.

Normally, when school was not in session a metal fence would block out the front entrance which was wall to wall with glass windows and an automatic sliding door. Normally that is. From the adjacent school building, Lark could see the doors ding open and shut every time the Cursed Human walked close to the sensors.

“It's walking in loops just like how a monster would in a game.” Lark’s eyebrows raised in annoyance, and then he ducked behind a low-rise bush debating if the Cursed Human was under SIM’s control or if it acted naturally like that.

He brushed the back of his neck, forgetting his hair was tied up, and he let out a depressed sigh. “It doesn’t matter,” he said and poked Gushi’s body. “I will protect you, this time.”

A hand pressed against over his wrist, where the blue tattoo wrapped over his skin like a vein. That’s right. I’m still connected to her, right?

His eyes cooled in front of the empty library porch. Sphinx couldn’t summon Jaime earlier to possibly try to kill him, which meant SIM was too low level to bring out certain…subjects. But he had to test his own limits.

“Print Master Nympha.” A tiny white circle dotted the ground and instantly turned green.

…It worked!

A feeling of triumph flushed through his cheeks as a tiny purple mouse materialized.

“Finally, remembered me, little Familiar? You smell stronger.” The shapeshifter’s whiskers shook. Her nose pointed up. “The other one is just watching you… what a troublesome protector.”

Lark snorted. “Protector, my ass.”

Nympha made a little swish of her tail, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Lark, and her crystal-like eyes trained on the sky.

“Wait for me, have your gift out before I return.” Her form curled into a ball which then shot straight up. With no clue with what just happened, Lark stood there with Gushi wiggling on his head. He hadn't planned on using her again to get out of this mess, but it would've helped if she had insisted. A tight frown screwed on his face.

“That didn't work at all,” he murmured. Gushi comforted him by patting his nose again.

He pulled out a circular, white stone from his shirt pocket. It was the spirit stone Nympha had given him after he rejected the Cosmic Egg. It was also a small consolation prize in return for taking an eighth of his soul.

Its ovaline and white surface reminded him of a hard-boiled egg. While it felt hard and cool to the touch as most gems were, it was also springy to his surprise. “Scan.”

“Item: Spirit Stone (spirit) (rare)

+10 LUK

+2% Healing and calming effect

A raw material used for various crafts.

Some places take this rare ore as currency.

Can be used to passively restore spiritual energy.

Hidden energy can be felt while holding the spirit stone.”

Lark smirked and raised it above his head. “Hold onto this for me Gushi.”

The slime stretched over his hand, careful not to knock off the stone, and quickly absorbed it inside its slime cavity.

“Do you feel any different?” Lark asked and Gushi’s body twitched. Its antenna glowed white for a second before it returned to a neutral hue. To answer his question, Gushi acquiesced the blob of slime it had lent to him earlier, then repeated its splitting. This new piece of slime bubbled over his chest in a similar action as before except this time, the slime was a fluffy white color and was as soft as cotton.

Gushi wiggled again as if asking for a compliment. Lark chuckled, unable to put words to the short bursts of energy he felt through the cotton slime. Weightless against his chest, the cloud blob didn’t impede his ability stoop close to the ground. “I see what you mean. It’s good. Very comfortable.”

Gushi combed through Lark’s hair, apparently pleased. They proceeded to watch the Cursed Human while waiting for Nympha. After three minutes, however, Lark decided Sphinx must've kept her occupied somehow and said to Gushi, “Sphinx said I only had to survive an hour, which means I don't have to fight, but I know he wants me to…and…I gain experience and bonuses for defeating them. You do too…”

He hesitated, picturing his arm again in the jaws of the monster, and the astringent taste came back on his tongue. To fight or to avoid… which one was the correct path?

Far above the duo, another pair faced off above the clouds. Their eyes matched one on one, unshakable dueling ideologies could be seen on their faces, neither wanted to yield in their current stare-off.

Sphinx began, “You’re not going to help him?” The question started off with a curious tone, but ended on a sour note and rather glaringly when Nympha’s tail swished.

“I am,” she said, “I need some answers though.” Unlike Sphinx who sat sprawled across a cloud cushion, Nympha hovered in the air as if she were standing on an invisible plate. Sphinx, the disinterested party in this discourse, ran a finger through his white hair strands and pulled it back over his ear.

“I’m listening.”

Nympha broke eye contact first and her tail flicked behind her ear. A thin, silver needle produced in her tail’s grip as if it appeared out of thin air. It shot out faster than Sphinx could blink and when he looked over at the hole in his cushion, he blinked twice. “Rarely am I surprised,” he said, still eying the state of his cushion, “but you shouldn't have missed at this distance.”

“I’m testing something,” she said, her tail now carrying a stack of needles. “You didn’t even try to dodge.”

Neither moved and the distance between them did not lessen.

“No wonder the soul contracts turned out so well, you and my ward would rather keep it inside your heads than to ask directly. Identical behaviors lead to the same mind.”

“The snake and the crab.” Nympha lowered her tail and jumped forward. She landed on another invisible plate, and then another, seamlessly arriving before Sphinx’s side without pause.

“I prefer the more modern idiom, the pot calling the kettle black, at least no one dies in that one.” Sphinx cruelly laughed as a needle lodged into his shoulder. No blood spurted out, it simply stayed under his skin. Another impaled his foot, then both his knees. Nympha showed no sign of stopping until her body grew five times in length, taking on the dog-like form she used to carry Wangshi. Her tail, thick and rough like rope, wrapped around Sphinx’s neck. Tight enough to threaten his air supply, but loose enough for his mouth to talk.

“Tell me, why I can’t exert my soul force here.”

“If that’s all you wanted to know you could’ve just asked…” Sphinx swallowed as the squeeze around his throat tightened. “Jokes aside. Do you know where ‘here’ is, to begin with? I’ll give you a hint: it’s a Mind Space, but it doesn’t belong to Lark’s. It’s an Immortal’s plaything.”

Nympha tilted her head.

“Oh wait, I just gave the answer away. My bad.” Sphinx replied with a wink. “We should talk to get to know each other more, don’t you think?”