Simon y there for a long time, just struggling to put the pieces of his mind back together.

  He was whole and unharmed, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape from the fshbacks that kept springing to his mind unbidden. In the absence of the stant fog of pain and hunger he’d been lost in for so long, his mind was suddenly too sharp, and suddenly all the terrible things he’d done were ier foow than when he’d been doing them. The taste of flesh. The feeling of impossible huhe guilt for the people he killed. All of it ed him until he wao scream.

  But he wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t give her the satisfa.

  Instead, he y there in a fetal position, uo even work up the strength to grab the bottle of wihat he knew was sitting nearby. That srape juice would at least se his mouth of the coppery taste that still lingered, even though he khat he’d never devoured human flesh before. Just building up the o do that much though took several more minutes of unfortable soul-searg.

  It was only once he’d risen and finished half the bottle that he even sidered what he should do . Food? He had no appetite. Fighting? He wao die. versation? There was no oo talk to except for the mirror, and the very st thing he wao do was look at his character sheet after everything that had happened.

  “You said that every time I died, I would e back here.” Simon said quietly, still staring at the floor between his feet. “I’ve died some pretty gruesome deaths, but at least that was what you promised. This… this isn’t what I signed up for.”

  ‘You returo the entrance of the pit as soon as you died,’ the mirror typed as soon as Simon spared it a gnbsp;

  “After I spent a FUG MONTH in my own corpse,” Simon yelled with a sudden burst of ahat took him by surprise.

  ‘Uh is a special case that blurs the lines between—’ the mirror started to print, one flowing character at a time, by Simon was doh it’s bullshit.

  “I’m doalking to you. I want to speak to the real boss.” he spat babsp;

  ‘Hedes is very busy and doesn’t currently wish to—’ The mirror was still typing its painfully slow message when Simon stood up and threw the bottle at the thing, shattering it pletely.

  “Hedes - get out here right fug now!” Simon roared as the gss started to fall to the floor. It didn’t fall pletely, though, as they flew backwards into the gloom of her room, they suddenly stop midair, and then the shockwave started to reverse. For a moment, Simon thought that the mirror was going to reform in the magical equivalent of hanging up on him, but the shards didn’t stop when they reached the mirror's frame. Instead, they kept going until they impacted Simon’s flesh, accelerating the whole way.

  He was impaled in a flurry of glittering silver that pierced him over and ain. It was almost painless, but he could feel the warm blood spreading across his now shredded shirt just the same. At least half a dozen of the rger pieces would have been fatal, he realized as his legs gave out, aoppled to the floor. He had time to feel the sharp pain as he impacted the floor and the shraphat filled his chest rearraself, but then there was only bess.

  Simon weled the bess, but it sted only as long as it took for him to open his eyes. Then he was right back where he started, staring up at the ceiling.

  This time, whe up and reached for the wihere was already a message typed on the mirror, even though he had yet to say a single word. ‘The goddess is indisposed of and is not to be interrupted without a valid reason. Having a temper tantrum about your current circumstances is never a valid reason.’

  Simon ched his fists, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. He’d found one mame breaking bug in their stupid fug pce, and they weren’t going to do anything to fix it. Typical. So, where did that leave him, he wondered as he stared at his feet.

  He could go back to the inn and look for Freya, but it seemed kind of like a fifty-fifty shot as to whether or not the dungeon would spawn his dream girl or the awful blond she worked with. Without her, he’d just be trapped in a level where a sie could cost him his sanity, because there hadn’t been a and he’d checked every door in the pce. Simon very much doubted he’d be able to handle aour in the zombie army. Just thinking about it made him shake. He’d rather face a dozeon knights at once. He’d rather…

  Simon’s thought process trailed off as he suddenly realized Hedes’ test trick. “You awful bitch,” he whispered to himself as he stood up. He had to be stu this awful pce, but did she have to do literally everything she could to screw with his mind like this, he wondered as he started getting ready. He wasn’t bringing anything special. Just the usual ons and equipment. W on autopilot would make everything easier. He could bring the ons he knew best, and lock all the awfulhat was trying to rush to the front of his mind in a little box for safekeeping.

  In a few minutes, he’d either be reunited with Freya or on to the seventh floor. There was the remote possibility that he would bee a zombie again if he was wrong about the goddess’ cruel nature, so this time he po kill himself with the crossbow if necessary, but he doubted he would . He had her number now. The pit wasn’t just a punishment. It was an exercise in cruelty and mind games.

  Simon did a speed run of the first four levels that didn’t even take twenty minutes. If anything it seemed more like a video game than less after what he’d been through, and he found himself thinking about moves in the way he might in a fighting game, deg in an instant whether the fast strike or the heavy one was more appropriate from moment to moment rather thaton mashing he’d done on his first few runs. The effect became hypnotic, especially on lhts like the skeleton crypts, and by the time it ended Simon stood there alone and panting, yet found himself craving even more eo destroy.

  On level five, Simon had to try twice to ie the slime. Before he’d uttered the words and cast the spell as always, he’d wondered in the rage and pain would make it even more powerful than st time, but instead it fizzled almost pletely and only a few stray sparks showered his hungry oppo. As he backed up, trying to figure out what went wrong, the answer came to his mind almost unbidden: he hadn’t really visualized anything. He’d just pictured it like a video game s, as he had for this whole run, aed the spell from his internal menu. The result cked passion of any kind.

  It was an unpleasant realization for Simon. Life was more fortable this way, when he artially dissociated from everything that had happeo him and treated everything that was happening to him as a sort of game, but without a mental image of what he wao happen a real emotion behind it, magic was lost to him. The dilemma made his mouth go dry. Spell casting was too valuable a skill to throw away, especially on this level, but the idea of letting himself feel all the horror that was ing inside him? It was too mubsp;

  “What a broken ass magic system,” he swore, his eyes tearing up as he tio walk slowly backwards. As Simon approached the back of the cave, he stopped to take in the beautiful sight. His back was against the wall, literally and figuratively, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t stop to take in the hints of rainbow that danced in the spray of water where the breeze caught the stream.

  He took a deep breath and forced himself to be present, taking it all in. Not just the waterfall and the slime, but the part of him that was terrified at going through the door to the zombie level and the part of him that just wao die too. If he had to be present, then he was going to be pletely present. He gazed down at the slime that was only te from him and closing, and imagi blistered and burning as its skin was cooked away by a bzing fire. When he was ready, he didn’t he yell the words. He just whispered, “Gervuul Meiren.”

  For a moment, Simon feared he’d screwed up again, as everything was lost in the burst of fire that exploded from his outstretched hand. It wasn’t the tight little beam he’d summohe st few times. It was a firestorm, and when the fire disappeared, there were only ashes left of his enemy. Simo light-headed enough to sit down for a moment a. Not just because he was deying the iable, either, but because that had taken a lot out of him.

  At this point he seemed to have a good uanding of what it took to cast a spell successfully, but no ability to trol the throttle, or really, any uanding of what that should look like. What he’d done was definitely overkill, but more than a little satisfying just the same. He sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the moment, but once he started to feel the o take a nap, he forced himself to his feet. He could sleep ter. First, he o know the truth.

  When Simon walked into the tavern he found two zombies to kill, not one like usual, but his mace took care of both quickly. This time, her of the barmaids were there to greet him. After a little searg, he found that they were both dead on the sed floor. Simon covered Freya with a b and stood there for a moment of silence. “You weren’t here waiting for me this time, but you will be ime,” he whispered, before he went down to help himself to a drink or two.

  By the time he got down there, the usual suspects were starting to break through the window, and Simon quickly put them both dooured himself a pint of warm dark ale and took a break before doing what came . He didn’t bother t the table over to the stop, more fr to work their way through. He was already going to have to move too much furniture to add one more to the pile.

  Once he finished with his drink, Simon started moving the chairs and tables stacked in front of the front door. On some level he khis was a terrible idea, but on another he khis was exactly the sort of thing that the twisted goddess would do. His certainty weakened slightly as he cleared a path to the door, though, and by the time he was in a position to finally open it he’d all but lost his nerve.

  Last time he’d done what anyone would do. He’d checked every door in the pce but this one.

  Simohat he was right, but he was also racked by doubts. If he opehat door and zombies poured in, he could probably still get upstairs in time, but he didn’t know that for sure. He just… While he stood there thinking about all the what if’s he noticed one very straail. Despite nothing but the bar across it holding the door closed, nothing was jostling against it. All the boards across the windows flexed and bowed as the zombies tried to force their way inside, but not the door. It just hung there limply and ried to bang against the bar resting half an inch away from it.

  Buoyed by the observation, Simon removed the bar, and then drew his mad pushed the door open. Oher side of the open door, there should have been a street crowded with zombies. There wasn’t though. Instead, there were a few stairs that lead down inte sewer tunnel.

  “Wele to level seven,” he told himself quietly, w what fresh hell awaited him down there.