Flames roared under Alex's feet from [Blazing Hot], and dust billowed as he dashed through Christie pits to hand off a pie with extra cheese. The customer's suburban home had a ten foot tall white mammoth Familiar that tooted a hello, while the dreadlocked patron flicked Alex a miniature bottle of mint unguent as a tip.

Something about being let in on the secret of a magical garden, his girlfriend being threatened by his ex, the looming collapse of every Dungeon Boss in Toronto, and the death of a psychotic mascot he'd actually grown moderately OK with, all while his employers were being messed with, put some extra pep in Alex's steps. A leisurely jaunt through a sun drenched Mediterranean vegetable garden was also just enough time for the order queue to stack up. Alex was zooming, and not just from the double espresso shot Nina gave him before leaping through his first portal. Running helped the panic stay in his lungs instead of his head.

[An-fricken-diamo - TIME REMAINING - 2:11:02]

An-fricken-diamo

This buff is only slightly left adjacent to a rocket enema and is designed to invigorate you with righteous urgency. It may also violently gurgle your guts.

For the remaining time, you receive:

[Caffeine Double Surge: +50% Speed, +Immune to Fatigue]

Note: Potions do not stack over a 24-hour period. Run, boy, run!

Next stop was a gaggle of hollow-cheeked street rats who laid claim to Graffiti alley. They'd saved up enough scrap to 'try out the fighting pits with a pizza Buff'. Alex told them to stay safe, refused the tip, and leapt back into the portal.

Can that THING leave me bloody alone?

The black monolithic stone was back. Every damn time, it was there, pressing into his mind, making him feel small, sweaty, and magically threatened. He couldn't even enjoy the butterfly slip and slide ride, the cartoon cosmic horror mirror maze, nor the little green men that chugged back circular cans while fishing in a nebula. One swirling mass of green vines and cat-eyes that had approached him even backed off like it was scared of the stone. It felt like it was trying to break into his portal trips.

I don't even know what the hell I could even do against that. Is it trying to slurp my brains or something?

BUZZ BUZZ

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he perched another pizza box with roasted peppers and salami that floated over. Nino argued in the front about the audacity of cauliflower crust pizza, and seemed to be winning the argument. How a broken window had anything to do with the equation was between them. Nina gave him a tight nod and went back to beating the crap out of a block of moz. Alex lobbed the unguent into his steadily filling locker, swiped the delivery job notification with his mind, and pulled out his phone for a look before another delivery.

Professor Neuronium: All Toronto Dungeon Bosses in the know. Sorry, Alex, no Dungeon runs or tips for you today. They're scared and think the pizza will attract attention in case Krusher's are watching.

"Mmm," Nina growled while elbow dropping the cheese block. "Krushers are bad for business and they asshole. I no like both." Alex raised an eyebrow as her face flushed red.

"MEH!" She yelled and punched the mozzarella so hard it burst into a dairy grenade. Curds and shreds flew everywhere, with one clump coming right for Alex's face…only to freeze an inch from impact. The cheese hovered for a moment and then reversed course, placing itself into a flower bowl on Nina's prep counter.

Alex was about to say something, but Nina's look cut him off. So he rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath, and dove into the espresso machine portal.

Snu still hadn't answered him, which just added to his bubbling espresso gut. The wall of messages he'd sent in the past two hours was, by all metrics, unbecoming. To his credit, Alex firmly believed he was within his right to spam her given the whole 'you might become a mindwiped slave,' thing. If she wanted to talk later, so be it. He just hoped she was safe and battening down the hatches and roping in her Dungeon Boss sister for backup.

Mary had answered him. Apparently Jemin had his own intel and had already started frantically sorting through his stock to pull out the real nasty Relics in case they were besieged. Mary, of course, had gushed about this, as well as his abs, and reminded Alex to not respond with any responses that might make her seem 'uncool.'

Once again, the portal trip had the black stone pressing. It hung there, in the sky, at the corner of his vision, and watched him like a masochistic voyeur. The giant purple flower bed Alex's body undulated through was interrupted by that mounting, nagging pressure that wanted to split his head open like a pistachio. Alex did his best to ignore it and enjoy the ride, as he didn't have any real control over his body in the portal space. But that dangerous pressure just kept coming.

The black monolithic stone scraped against the underspace, and then cracked in.

"Oooooooh shit," Alex said in reverse as the nebula sky fractured. The mounting pressure quickly disappeared from Alex's brain.

A sharp black vein broke through the pastel sky from the stone. And from the void space zipped a tiny taxidermied mouse on a floating persian rug, wearing a fez hat that was locked in place. His shimmering purple robe flapped majestically. Alex's body reformed into a semblance of normalcy and he was pulled up toward the psychic mouse on an invisible cosmic string.

"HELLO, MY BOY!" the mouse squeaked and jittered as Alex came to float next to Mr. Mystical and several colourful clouds. "Sorry for the intrusion. I've been watching you traverse through these perilous planes and I don't have the time to spare to see you in the real world. Much to do, much to do, you know how it is."

"Th–the stone is you? How are you even in here?" Alex shouted, his voice warbling through the half-liquid air.

From behind Mr. Mystical, something flapped out of the crack. At first, Alex thought it was a green bird. Then he realized it was a hardcover book.

"What is thi–"

"Ah!" Mr. Mystical said and scooted over to allow the book to flap next to him. The mouse shook to make an approximation of a gesture toward the book. "Alex, I'd like to formally introduce you to Harold. Harold currently inhabits your... IKEA bookshelf, yes? We spoke about his. The one in your hallway."

The book bobbed once in greeting.

"Really, Harold, you must upgrade your…habitation possession," Mr. Mystical said, making a disapproving tutting noise. "I understand living near a developing true Spirit Beast has its perks, but a soggy assembly of particle board is hardly fitting for someone of your nature. Ghosts, Harold! The only truly unkillable! Need I remind you!?"

Alex looked at the hovering mouth and then the book. He looked to the crack in the magical sky that leaked black light. They were talking about a Spirit Beast?

What the hell is a Spirit Beast and why do I think they're talking about Emilio… That damn cat is going to kill me.

Before he could demand answers, a soft shy voice spoke into his mind.

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"Oh. Hello, Alex. I know this must be weird…but it's nice to meet you…"

"Yes," he said in a more normal voice. "It's nice to meet you too, Harold." He then spun onto Mr. Mystical. "But--Weird? WEIRD? I just learned he was living in my bookshelf last week! And you! Answer me–you're the stone? That's you? Trying to get into my brain? Trying too–?

The mouse and the book just giggled at Alex's rant. The mouse interrupted him. "Alex, Alex! My dear boy, you must relax," the mouse shook itself. "That stone is not me! We ghosts merely…hmmm…use it on occasion. Think of it like our portal into this space. Through this space, if you will."

"Then what IS it?" Alex barked and pointed at the stone that no longer throbbed in his head. His nerves were frayed, and Mr. Mystical had the unique skill of showing up right when Alex's temper was ready to snap from being bent.

"Mmmm," Mr. Mystical seemed to be thinking it through. "Ghost's honour, can't say. What I can say though, is that all undead beings can use it to loooooooksie into this little marvel of unreality and death." The mouse finished his thought by shaking to get Alex to look around the portal space he regularly traversed through. "I don't know who's been pressing into your head to try and break through, but anything or anyone that can come back…so to speak, can look through that." Mr. Mystical finished by facing the black stone.

"Unreality? Death? What? Undead beings? What is…what?" Alex sputtered.

"Ah. You think Nina and Nino are the only Lich's with the ability to send things, or prickly pizza boys through here? They own this? All this? As if they're the only technically undead beings? What about me, hmmm? Fine Harold here? A quite grumpy ex-girlfriend with a penchant for malicious intent, perhaps? A sweet girl that is falling for a frankly unhygienic lout named Alex? Really, my dear boy, those trapped by circumstance or by the dastardly System have to travel occasionally."

Said lout's mind was reeling. Somehow, however, Alex managed to keep it all together. His best guess was that all the weird stuff happening to him was growing into a fine tumor at the base of his brain. Perhaps he was able to manage from his years growing up on the streets, stressed to the gills, fighting for his life and self.

Keep it together, man. No time to panic.

The mouse continued.

"The Purple Nurple Flower Consortium? Hmmm? The Alkenati Fishers that drink stupendous amounts of alcohol? The Cloud Conundrum that mate by boxing, yes?" Mr Mystical paused for dramatic effect. "This is where the undead, the cursed, and where dreams go to…I think un-die is an appropriate word. For here, everything eventually expires."

Alex looked between the flying mouse and the hovering Harold. Somehow, the pizza box in his hand didn't shake, but his free left one sure did.

"Great. So…undead beings. Dungeon Bosses, Liches, Ghosts…Uh..Spirit Beasts…dreams? You said dreams? Other beings? They can come here. To this place?"

"Don't forget the towels and squirrels, Alex," Mr. Mystical interrupted with seriousness. "One must NEVER forget the towels and squirrels. Yes. They can come here to live out their days in peace. I believe, at least. It's not like I've been a ghost for more than a century, you know? In the grand scheme of things, I am just a mere neighbourhood ghost. A powerful one, yes! Yes indeedy, but a newer ghost all the same."

Harold bobbed and said:

"As we understand it, Lazlo Bodazlo and I, he speaks the truth. My research continues into the annals however…,"

"I'm sorry, Lazlo Bodazlo?" Alex looked at Mr. Mystical. "Is that-is that your real name? You still go by Mr. Mystical?"

"IT'S A PERFECTLY FINE NAME, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!"

"Ok, that's absolutely wonderful," Alex said while pinching the bridge of his nose. "So you've been watching me in this…space. The unspace, I think of it in my head."

"An apt name, yes…" Mr Mystical answered.

"But other things and people have been watching me in here…," Alex thought. "That's terrifying. And what is it you want now? Why did you break in? What? To give me a nervous breakdown before Britanii hangs me and keeps my skin for a purse?"

"Ah," Mr. Mystical hummed. "Now we get to the REAL meat and proverbial ghostly potato." Mr. Mystical let out a giddy laugh.

Alex looked back and forth between the pair, but was genuinely surprised when Harold the book was the one who answered his question.

"It is our belief that by some stroke of immeasurable luck, you may just be the key to getting exactly what we need. We look to help you. That leash? We need that leash. It would be disastrous if the Krushers, or their contemporaries, maintained it in their possession. It must be taken, and Mr. Mystical and I must have it."

Alex narrowed his eyes because something in his gut told him this was off. Inside the unspace, facing not one, but two ghosts, and he was suspicious. He had always been suspicious of Mr. Mystical. About what he wanted, why he had helped Alex, what his real motives were.

"Ok. No, no. Back up." Alex looked back and forth between the two. "You just said that you need the leash. That if the Krushers keep it, it'll be disastrous. They'll keep targeting Dungeon Bosses, gain more power, whatever. Big bad Clan shit. I get that. But what I'm hearing is that you want it. Not to destroy it. Not to seal it away. Have it."

He tilted his head at them, as Mr. Mystical and Harold had suddenly gone very still. "So, why? Why do you want the leash?"

Mr. Mystical hovered frozen on his miniature persian rug, which now that Alex was close enough to inspect, looked like a repurposed computer mouse pad.

"Tell him," Harold said.

"It's-it's not relevant, Harold!" Mr. Mystical spluttered.

"You brought him into this, Lazlo. He deserves to know."

Mr. Mystical stuttered to face Alex. "Do you remember the parking lot, Alex? Where I, hmm, provided reading services to you?"

"You mean when you ate that supposed Krusher? Whole?"

"Yes, yes," Mr. Mystical moved in such a way to make his stuff body sort of nod. "Well, the part where I did your reading. Do you remember the reading?"

"Of course. It came out all strange. A poem about me trusting my gut–"

"YES! A message from beyond. Not controlled by me, mind you. I am merely the vessel. Occasionally I must act and do certain things, as I am being pointed in a certain…hmmm…a certain ghoulish direction." Mr Mystical finished. Alex's gut was telling him this was still suspicious. "I've done things. For larger forces at play. Forces that I cannot even disobey."

Alex stared into those glassy eyes. "You mean the System? The System is sending those messages and getting you to do these things? Like the readings? Like…getting the leash?"

Harold fluttered in the unspace wind. "Everything has a cost, Alex. Everything."

"And you're being told to get this leash?" Alex's voice relaxed. That at least he could make sense of. The System could act in weird ways, with its messages and notifications. Heck, he had just got confirmation that he was a friend for crying out loud. "What happens if you don't?"

That made Mr. Mystical hesitate.

Harold the book shelf ghost answered. "Besides the Krushers hurting your girlfriend, gaining unfathomably powerful Dungeon under their control as Familiars, and System only knows what she'll do to you?"

"Uhh…yeah. Besides that."

Mr. Mystical and Harold grew very serious. How Alex could tell, from a taxidermied mouse on a rug and a talking book with no face? He hadn't a clue, but the tension was palpable.

"Ahh…" Mr. Mystical finally said. "Well, my dear boy, the System giveth, the System taketh. There is a cost to being a ghost, you know! No free rides in the System, not even for one as delightful as me! If we, good Harold and I, fail to get that leash? We move on. A formal System revocation of ghastly existence. Onto the Unspace. Permanent death! You can imagine that as a ghost who has had an ongoing deal with the System, this is not ideal. Why, if there is anything I fear, it is death itself." Mr. Mystical tutted.

"Poor Harold here? Why, he is the only thing holding that ratty old Ikea bookshelf together. Think of the mess, Alex!" The mouse finished.

"Lazlo," Harold sighed. "You have an off knack for making the serious completely unserious. This is our life."

The two immediately started bickering like an old married couple. At one point in life, maybe they had been. Alex watched them in disbelief, as the weight of everything settled right into his heart. Even ghosts, some of the finickiest beings that Alex knew of, answered to someone. And that someone was the damn root of power itself, the System.

And I still have these deliveries to make. Before I go talk to my new boo thing about how badly I screwed up and hope she doesn't get captured in the meanwhile. Greeeeat.

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