With Keith Carr’s final moments, whether they were in life or just in our world, behind us, we returned to the flower pot that contained the Dungeon Nexus. It really didn’t look like much. The container was made from a simple brown clay and had no markings. It must have been confusing for Dalsarel since she couldn’t see the connection points coming out of it, not that she said anything.

  A plethora of red strings went through the ceiling and out of sight. I wasn’t sure on how large of an area they contributed to, but considering there were only four of these Nexus and CC had used them to take over the whole continent, I had to assume it was huge.

  “How many dungeons are connected to this?” I asked, reaching out to touch it.

  “There are eighty-seven directly involved with this Dungeon Nexus, with another ninety-eight added from outside of its area of influence,” Himia answered.

  That was a lot more than I was expecting, and I nodded in response.

  Despite its appearance, the flower pot was actually made out of some clay-colored metal. It felt warm to the touch and didn’t respond to me in any way. I narrowed my eyes at the connection points as if I could glean any additional information from them. They gave nothing up, obviously.

  “Okay, what do I have to do?” I asked, pulling my hand away from the Dungeon Nexus and looking at Himia on the other side of the table.

  “You will need to physically interact with the connection points directly,” the Information Elemental stated, gesturing towards the red strings. “Putting your hand in the middle will suffice. From there, you will have the opportunity to assert your influence and take control of them all at once.”

  “Not one at a time?” I asked for clarification.

  Himia shook her head. “That would make the process too slow, and CC would have more time to launch a counteroffensive once she realizes what is happening. I am not sure how long that will take.”

  “Of course,” I grunted. “What do I do to assert my influence? I assume it’s not going to be as simple as grabbing them and wrestling control from her.”

  “I do not know,” she answered.

  I fixed her with a flat look. “This is your plan and you don’t know how it’s going to work?”

  A mechanically apologetic expression graced her face. “The Dungeon Master, Master of Dungeons is not capable of stealing dungeons, and therefore has not given me any instructions on how to perform the action. Since the only one who does know is CC, I have no one to ask.”

  Her response made me sigh. When the Dungeonborn had talked to me about the plan to defeat CC by stealing the magic allowing her to exist, he didn’t know how I was able to steal dungeons either. I still wasn’t even sure if it would work.

  That said, even if it didn’t then coming here wasn’t for nothing. Everything we learned here was important.

  Worst case scenario, I could still cut all of these connection points, severing them for good. It would kill any people and monsters attached to the dungeons due to the properties of the Nexus, many of whom have been under CC’s power for hundreds of years, but it was better than the alternative of the world burning down.

  I made a face. Just contemplating the act of mass murder, which was exactly what it would be even if I wouldn’t see the results from here, left a bad taste in my mouth. That wasn’t even a reaction from being a paladin, but my own thoughts on the matter.

  Pushing that feeling out of the way, I knew that failure was not an option. The alternative was much, much worse, but I would not be returning to my children as the man who had slain a quarter of a continent if I could help it.

  That was also assuming I would only have to do this once, and not for each of the Dungeon Nexus points out there.

  With that grim thought in mind, I took a breath. “Okay. No use waiting, then,” I said to myself as I thrust my arm up to my elbow into the mass of connection points.

  Pins and needles poked and prodded my body as if every inch of me had fallen asleep. The sudden feeling made me want to jerk back, but I didn’t. I took in my surroundings. What little there were, anyway.

  I was no longer standing in the Logan Dome, as Carr had called it. Instead, I found myself floating in an unending black void not unlike the one I had sent us to in order to save Ferrisdae during Razorbeak’s subjugation. I had a plan to call for Cheroske’s aid in order to get us out, which was so crazy that I was still surprised it had worked.

  Then again, I was one of her paladins now so the hunch I had followed was clearly good. Something told me that I wasn’t going to be able to get the same help this time. Not that I would ask for it; this was clearly a task for me alone.

  It was unfortunate, but the paresthesia wasn’t fading even as time passed. My body’s continual discomfort aside, I took the time to really inspect the only thing that existed in this space beside me, the connection points.

  I could see each of them clearly. They were so tightly packed together that some even seemed to grow through others. This didn’t hinder them at all, however, and my gaze traveled upwards.

  They were bunched together where the flower pot should have been, but high into the inky sky they spread out far and wide. Without the dome in the way, I could track their paths to a point. They were thin and, despite their eye-catching color, I couldn’t make them out once they got far enough away. It was as if I were standing under a red umbrella with my hand stuck through its base.

  The red strings felt oddly… greasy. The sensation was only on the surface, as if something oozed over them. It certainly didn’t feel magical. This almost felt like the dungeons were wounded or poisoned.

  CC. The name came to my mind unbidden. She wasn’t the one who formed these dungeons, but she still had ownership of them. This might have been how her influence manifested.

  Almost as if reacting to my thoughts, the connection points parted just enough for me to see something hiding amongst them. A single string, this one gray instead of red. My fingers weren’t touching it yet, but I was close. It was thicker than the others by a large margin, and I tracked it upwards with the rest. To my chagrin, I soon lost it amongst the sea of red.

  I frowned. If that was CC’s connection to the Dungeon Nexus, then it gave me something easy to target. Reaching down, I grabbed the crystalline sword.

  Unfortunately, my hand went right through it.

  My frown turned into a full blown scowl as I looked down at the magic crystal turned weapon. It was there, plain as day, but I wasn’t able to interact with it. Testing, I put my hand on my chest next. It sank through my clothes.

  This was an actual out of body experience, though I wondered why it preserved my modesty by allowing me to keep my clothing. It had to have been designed that way. This Keith Carr fellow was very odd.

  I returned my attention to the connection points. They had moved out of the way so that I could see the gray one at a simple thought, which meant I had some small amount of influence on them already. These were uncharted waters. I needed to be careful.

  Steeling myself, I put both hands into the tangle of connection points. The feeling of pins and needles intensified slightly, but I was getting used to the sensation. It was more uncomfortable than painful. I could push it to the back of my mind.

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  As I did that, I also thought about gathering the connection points. Himia had told me I needed to do this all at once rather than piece by piece, so it made sense to me that I needed to remain in contact with them.

  I watched as the red strings slowly started to gravitate towards my hands. My fingers were outstretched, and some seemed to arbitrarily decide that touching them was enough while others sought to skewer my palms. It didn’t feel any different, but seeing my hands impaled wasn’t something I expected today.

  The thoughts and sensations from each of them pressed against my mind, falling just short of what I would call an assault. The emotions from what I could only assume were the various DTERs flitted against me. I could feel the happiness and joy of Tuskrep, dire fear from a mine to the west, complete and utter contempt for a frozen area to the south, and many more.

  I didn’t like this one bit. Was it how the Dungeonborns felt all the time? Was their existence one giant maelstrom of emotions due to the various strings they were connected to? The moment I thought about it, I shot that down. If they were, then CC would have noticed my intrusion already.

  The gray string twitched, and my eyes snapped to it. The emotions from the connection points went quiet as I focused my attention fully on the odd one out. I knew that getting CC’s attention was inevitable—I was taking several dungeons from her at once, after all—but I didn’t want it to happen so soon.

  If I could hold my breath here, I would have. The rules of engagement in this space were unknown. My biggest saving grace would be the fact that I wasn’t sure if there had ever been anyone other than Carr himself who would be able to wrest control away from CC. The first time might even end up being the easiest, with every subsequent attempt becoming more complex as we acclimated to the process.

  That said, I didn’t get this far by taking my chances.

  I waited for several seconds, but there was no follow up to the twitch. Still suspicious, I turned my attention back to the connection points.

  Since they seemed to respond well to my thoughts, I began to focus. I didn’t dare close my eyes and take them off of the gray string, however. That seemed like a knuckle-headed thing to do at this point.

  A sense of power flowed through the connection points as I brought them to the forefront of my mind. They responded gracefully to my attention, and I visualized taking them over.

  There were a few tugs, but nothing substantial happened. CC’s string didn’t even twitch.

  Pursing my lips, I tried to think about taking them over even harder. I pushed the thought until it was the only thing on my mind, trying to increase the intensity as much as I could. This wasn’t something I had ever needed to practice before.

  A few more joined the first set, showing some progress. It wasn’t going to be enough, though. There were over eighty of these strings, and a few weren't going to cut it.

  The gray string twitched again, and I mentally pulled back. All of the other connection points started to drift back to their usual positions. I let them.

  It was a puzzle. They clearly reacted to my will, which was a good start, but not strongly enough to come under my control. I remembered how the Dungeon Master and Himia seemed to think I was some kind of natural Dungeonborn, but the thought didn’t put my mind at ease.

  Blinking, I thought about it from another perspective. These weren’t the emotions put out by the DTER or the owners, but the dungeons themselves. The magic that made it all possible. Mere thought probably wasn’t enough. My days of ownership were long since over, but I still remembered how it felt.

  Reviving, as the dungeon reconstituted my body after death. Power, settling into my flesh and bones. Terror, inflicted on others as they stepped into my domain. That slice of the world was mine to command, and I needed to realize that these were, too.

  While I would not call myself gentle under most circumstances, I was being entirely too lenient on these paltry strings that dared defy me.

  Setting my jaw, I gathered the connection points back into my hands. The moment they were all in place, I squeezed as tightly as I could. Some accepted this rough treatment, and I somehow recognized them as the ones that were eager to change before. Others tried to flee, attempting to wriggle out of my iron grip.

  The thoughts of subjugating them under my rule were the only thing on my mind. I focused on them like it was a new obsession, infusing them with the emotions of what I had felt back then.

  I remembered my home, pure and innocent despite the consistent monster attacks.

  The slavers’ arrival, at first in peace before they quickly dropped the act and started kidnapping my brethren.

  Chasing after them, cutting them down.

  Mourning the casualties, those I couldn’t save.

  Then, power coming from twofold sources.

  First, a surprise gain from Tegril as he offered me a position as his paladin. Gods and goddesses weren’t unknown to us, even far from the civilized lands, and I had immediately seen what good it could do. I took it.

  Second, the dungeon that formed around me after countless battles with what seemed like an army. That scared my people almost as much as the slavers had. More so, even. The Coroda Wildlands already had an aura of savage magic that put outsiders on edge, but the unnatural DTER that permeated my domain was…

  “I am tyranny personified,” I proclaimed as I forced the connections to bend to my will. “And you will become mine.”

  More and more strings started capitulating to my demand, and I felt them start to change in my hands. It was slow at first. The ooze coating them seemed to disintegrate as the connection points solidified. One by one, I felt them become material objects in my hands.

  Heartened by the response I was getting, I poured even more of myself into capturing these dungeons. Stealing them away from the Dungeonborn thief who had appointed herself as their mistress. It wasn’t easy, and I was operating far more on instinct than I usually liked. If I could sweat in this form, I was sure I would be soaked from the effort.

  My eyes shifted from one hand to another before settling on CC’s thread. It was starting to fray, visibly thinner than before, when I noticed the change. A bulge in the pipe, quickly descending on my position. I didn’t have to wonder what it was for very long.

  “What the shit is all of this?” came the familiar voice of CC as she suddenly popped into existence on the other side of the Nexus.

  The redheaded Dungeonborn had a confused and angry expression on her face, and was covered in black armor. It was in perfect condition without any blood or scratches, which told me that she likely wasn’t fighting on the front lines. That knowledge was a small silver lining in this whole thing.

  Gritting my teeth, I tried to expedite the process as best I could at her sudden appearance. It worked, but only marginally. Not enough.

  My gaze locked with hers, and her eyes widened as she looked from me to the connection points and back again. One of her hands was holding her gray thread, and her other was outstretched. Her mere presence made some of the connection points start shifting out of my grip.

  As I looked at her, I noticed that she was surprisingly transparent. Stretched out, somehow, too. It was as though she was having trouble appearing here. I realized that she had taken on more than she could handle. Over four Nexus and countless attached dungeons, she was spread thin.

  This really would be the easiest attempt to steal from her. It was all uphill from here.

  “Bet you weren’t expecting to see me again,” I growled as I tried to reassert myself.

  “Bitch, I don’t even know who you are,” she scoffed, furrowing her brow as her eyes moved to the connection points.

  Her statement hit me like a wagon. After everything that happened, she didn’t even remember who I was? This woman, this Dungeonborn, had threatened everything that I held sacred in my life, and she couldn’t even take the time to memorize the one person who could actually hurt her?

  She had the audacity to threaten the world my children were going to grow up in, and this was how she acted?

  I couldn’t help the rage I felt at her complete and utter disrespect. It cut through the doubt and sharpened my mind like a blade.

  A surge of power came from within me. I could feel it flying from my mind and into my divine core, where it spread out and grabbed everything it could. Light started pouring forth from my body, comforting to me though it caused the Dungeonborn to shield her eyes.

  Forcing all of the connection points into one hand, I pulled back my other one and punched her straight in the jaw.

  CC reeled from the blow, her hand flying to where I had just struck her. “What the—”

  All of the connection points snapped into place as my will became absolute. My tyranny complete. I wasn’t surprised to see that CC was still there when every string solidified in my hand, and I relished the surprised look on her face.

  “These dungeons are mine, and you are not welcome in them! Fuck off,” I commanded, my voice thrumming with power.

  As soon as my proclamation was over, I was flung across the room. The feeling of pins and needles assailing me disappeared, but I was now afflicted with a major headache and an emptied divine wellspring. Wincing, I slowly sat up.

  Himia was looking down at me with a wooden smile on her face. “Congratulations on your success, Inspector,” she said. “Now, please tell me everything about the process that you just went through. It would be best to get this on the record immediately while it is still fresh in your mind, for the sake of posterity.”

  I lowered myself down on the floor and exhaled. That was not a process I was looking forward to repeating.