'Sadie,' then?

I mutter quietly to myself, still trying to work out what exactly is happening. Did the ancient monster reincarnate or something? My u-comm says she's a gorgon, but he sure doesn't look like a gorgon…

The young girl mows through another small group of low-leveled monsters while I ruminate. This starter dungeon is easy enough for new adventurers to clear if they bother to form a party. I wonder why the old man suggested us as mentors.

It's too convenient. No, that thing must have set this up.

There's no way it would leave us alone, not now, not after all that's already happened. It stopped purging itself from our memories, back when it revealed itself to actually be a hungry evil god in disguise.

Which means this girl probably is too.

"How did I do, Mister Callien?"

I turn to 'Sadie.' I need to play along for now… no idea what dastardly plan it has, but I'm sure acting outside its expectations is just going to get us all slaughtered.

"Just fine, girl. You're doing just fine. Make sure you keep your posture low, you keep springing up like a beanstalk every time you finish deflecting on the follow through."

I'm no tank but I've been doing this long enough that even I've picked up on some of the tricks.

She'd already asked the others for feedback. Frederick had more specific suggestions than I did, which makes sense considering how many years he's been our frontliner, though I didn't pay much attention.

Rosalie mostly just shook, although she made an effort to hide it. She failed miserably, but it might have just been my own senses as a Shadowstrike Gloomstalker. The trainee didn't react so I suppose the mage got away with it. At least for now.

We haven't actually done much here, not in the past four days in this dungeon. 'Sadie' didn't start whining about the nightly campouts until the third night – last night. I explained to her that this is an important part of adventuring, and how clearing dungeons often needs you to do it or lose your progress. Most of them don't have those travel circles or stones to hop between floors you've visited, though they are convenient.

"There's another one coming, some of the stronger ones," Rosalie says quietly.

I'd apparently been so lost in thought that I wasn't paying attention to our surroundings. Not good.

Not like anything here is actually an issue for the girl, even if we weren't here. Probably anyway. The numbers of some of the mobs might be too many and overwhelm her, but otherwise? No. She's already reached level four, and nothing here is above level three except the dungeon boss at the end – a level five sand crab king, much larger than its kin, although it's also accompanied by half a dozen of the smaller ones. It's an easy fight for a full party of newbies, but 'Sadie' isn't a full party.

She should form one so we can escape if nothing else. I'm not sure how much longer Rosalie can take the hovering tension.

Granted, the trainee doesn't seem to notice it at all.

…

Maybe it's just a coincidence. Maybe her System is messed up somehow, recording her name wrong. And there are plenty of people that supposedly have a monster race that look and act entirely like any other mortal!

…

…

Yeah, probably not.

We have another minute or so before the shore hoppers come from the treeline so I take advantage of the pause to set things in motion, or at least try to. "So, have you considered forming a normal party around your level?" I ask.

She bites her lip. "I… yeah, I did, and I want to, but mom said I can't. Not yet, not until I get a little older and a little stronger."

"Well, that makes sense, sort of. It wouldn't be a bad idea to get more real-world experiences though… That way you won't be unprepared for actual team tactics when you advance far enough. Did she give you a specific goal for it?"

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"I had to keep bothering her, but she finally said when I reach level fifteen. She wants me to be used to how my Class works."

I nod sagely just as our quarry leaves the forest and starts toward us, the dark brown flightless birds kicking up sand as they move.

***

I hate these things! Stupid birds, they're too fast!

I raise my shield just in time to catch the first of the flock, but I'm not strong enough to fully deflect it and instead wind up staggering from the impact, almost losing my footing as three others rapidly veer toward me in its wake. Frederick gave me some advice for them, mostly hit them quickly since they're fairly easy to kill if you can land a hit, but they're so fast that it's hard to do that! Oh, and he said not to get surrounded either… like I am now.

On the bright side, this whole tropical dungeon isn't one of the deadly ones… I scanned my badge on the way in, so of course if I die I'll just be spat out at the entrance.

Another of the runners leaps by, trying to catch me with its talons as I narrowly dodge and sprawl to the ground…

A moment later I snap awake, the dull amber light of the resurrection pad rapidly dimming around me. Why do they even call them that? It's not actually 'resurrection'!

"I died again," I sigh quietly, stifling a whine. "Why is this so hard!?"

Silence answers me. Well, that and the stares of a dozen adventurers lined up to enter in beach attire, not even bothering with real armor since I'm sure they're high enough level that I can't even identify…

[Unknown – Unknown – Level ???]

That's… even less information than usual, isn't it? And the user interface is different...

Oh. Oh no. Where's my u-comm!? Did one of those damned birds knock it off?

Sure enough, it's gone. Just gone. I must have dropped it in the dungeon, maybe before I fell…

And died.

My leather armor has been building up more and more scratches and tears, an unfortunate truth about even the beginner dungeons… resurrecting does nothing for equipment wear. And apparently, anything you drop stays there.

I hope whatever stupid shellfish monster that digs up my lost gadget enjoys not knowing how to use it. Do they even have ears?

A ping of warning from the metal pad prompts me to pull myself to my feet and get moving, lest I keep other recently dead, even more recently alive adventurers from returning through it. Some of the glances turn derisive, downright judgmental, but I genuinely don't know what they want me to do about it. There were too many of the bastards!

Far too many.

Huh.

I wonder why Frederick and the others let me die?

…

Almost everything they do seems pretty purposeful… so there has to be a reason for this too.

Probably.

I amble my way to the waiting area to one side of the entrance and take a seat at one of the many picnic tables set up there. It's not at all uncommon for someone to die during a dungeon delve and have to wait for the rest of their party to either use a return portal or walk back. Most don't walk back though, and that means whoever dies gets to do the walk of shame from the resurrection pad to the waiting area and just, sit.

Sometimes for hours.

…

…

I wonder if I'll be one of them.

The flash of light from the nearby return pad doesn't do much to break my disappointment though, despite my mentors' return.

"Hey kid," Callien greets with a small smile and smaller wave. "Made it out alright then?"

I nod. I… don't really feel like talking about it.

Clearly though, that won't do. At least not to Frederick, as the large man gives me a slap on the back. "Don't worry about it, Sadie! It happens to the best of us, even me! Especially frontliners like tanks and vanguards. You see, our party doesn't have a healer-"

"I'm doing my best, you know."

"I know you are, Rosalie," he continues despite her interruption. "I know. You still only have a few healing spells though, and your best one needs you to touch them."

The eldra huffs and turns her head but clearly isn't as bothered as she's pretending to be.

I'm still not sure what to make of her. The others are warm and encouraging, but…

It's the way she keeps looking at me, when she thinks I'm not paying attention. It took me a few days to put my finger on what it was.

Fear. She's afraid of me. Terrified, even.

And I have no idea why.

***

Izzy taps her lower lip in thought, a hand on her chin as she sits on the end of our bed.

We'd made a ritual of changing into sleepwear the long way, or 'the normal way' as she used to call it. It feels clumsy without using my feelers and always takes me a moment longer than her to finish, and that means she ends up waiting like this.

But not usually this thoughtfully.

"What is it?" I finally ask.

My second first wife lets out a small breath. "You arranged that, didn't you?"

"Arranged what?"

"Those mortals. The ones you always used to torment, you know? They've all noticed that she's probably you."

I feign being wounded. "Oof! You don't trust me at all!"

…

…

"Fine," I finally say when I've had my fill of her withering stare. "So I poked a few things. They ran away, because of course they did – I'm terrifying! Apparently they got sick of me finding them at every high-level dungeon they went to and thought they'd hide out teaching kids at the beginner ones. I just happened to give the guild mentoring process a little nudge to make sure they'd wind up at that one. Whether or not I'd end up with them specifically was still up to chance though, I didn't want to tip things too far."

She takes my hand, pulls me closer to the bed, and looks away for a moment. I say nothing and let the silence stretch. It's strange to me how time spent with a loved one without saying anything at all is sometimes more satisfying than the alternative.

…

And then she pulls me down next to her, scooting up to our pillows. I move to join her.

"Arty is right," she says softly, gazing into my eyes. "You're a cheater."

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