The old master paced about the sand-filled chamber. Eyeing me with curiosity as I held the little trinket.

  “Come now. You can’t tell me you’re growing hesitant now. Not at this juncture. I haven’t even brought on the proposition yet.”

  I turned to him.

  “This wasn’t the proposition?”

  He huffed and blew out some more bubbles.

  “This is the fulfillment of our deal, Solomon. You teach me things in exchange for my services and, you know, me not killing you in response to your frequent and flagrant violations of the Tutorial rules. It is just that I have come to appreciate your particular talents a bit more fully.”

  “Now that you got two levels in Tier 1. In more than a week?”

  “Don’t push it Solomon. Use the crystal.”

  I went over the blunted outer edges with my fingers.

  “Just to clarify, this thing will supress all Types but Shifter?”

  “Yes.” He paused. “Well, sort of. It will block off knowledge and memories and it should, should, block off most of the affinity for abilities you’ve already earned. The basic notion is that it will force you to look at things in newer, more interesting ways. By making it easier to level new abilities that you don’t have yet. And by making the ones you did unlock harder to access. If you remember them at all.”

  He paused to withdraw another drink. Taking a few licks with his long worm-like tongue before he spoke again.

  “At least, that is how it is supposed to happen. With most normal challengers.”

  He gave out a noise that might have been a derisive snort, if it had come from a human head and not a seahorse head.

  “We Savants have our issue. As you well know. Forcibly suppressing affinities towards Psy is not normally something us Espers can do.”

  He took another lick.

  “I mean, sure. You may permanently erase someone’s memories. Maybe even their whole identity. Or you may endow them with a mastery over Psy that is far, far beyond anything they should be capable of.”

  He wagged a clawed finger at me.

  “But you cannot take that away. Not even if you gave it to them in the first place. You may be able to suppress Psy. You may be able to cut people off from their own foundations for a time. But it is all smoke and mirrors, as you humans would say. The path to enlightenment cannot be reversed. Not truly. As you yourself well know from that childish fit you threw when you were young.”

  He paused.

  “Younger.” He corrected.

  “You are still rather fresh after all. An aspect of our relationship that has been vexing me of late.”

  “How so?”

  He did the head tilt thing again.

  “I guess you could call it an ironic twist.” He seemed to chuckle. “I’ve always insisted that people treat me as they would an equal. No matter their station. Some of the people I call friends are not great masters. And I find that them knowing I can end their entire species weighs over our social gatherings. Despite me not having any such intentions.”

  Another head tilt. More pronounced this time.

  “Yet you seem to find an awful lot of pleasure in your constant insolence.”

  I forced myself to shrug.

  “Sorry. I didn’t feel as if I was being particularly insolent.”

  “You’re not. Per se. But as I was saying. You are not a regular challenger. That proclivity you have for Telepathy cannot be erased. Even after death, Savants hold on to a shocking amount of leeway as their minds or spirits or what have you disintegrate and drift out into Pandemonium.”

  He paused again. Giving me an uneasy glance.

  “If they dissipate at all. Some Telepaths are annoyingly persistent about such things. I know a few fellows who have a good thing going with cloning. Exact copies of themselves kept in stasis until their main body is done for. Then, when the time draws near. They blow wide holes open in reality and force their own psyche into the nascent bodies they’ve bred for themselves. It all sounds rather ghastly if you aske me, but death can be quite scary. Or so I’m told.”

  “And the point is that, what? I won’t have my Type suppressed?”

  “Not unless you will it to be so. No.” He answered bluntly. “Other, regular challengers can pass through the instance without much issue but neither of us are in any way normal. You have to actively help the suppression process for it to take hold. Something I highly suggest by the way. I really did go out of my way to present you with a unique opportunity.”

  “Yeah, about that. I was wondering. Why did you come to me?”

  He gave me the seahorse equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

  “I mean, I am very flattered. But why didn’t you go to your cloning friends if they’re so good? Couldn’t they make you an instance to train in? And come to think of it, why didn’t you try going out and hunting? I got a good few levels throwing out bolts back when I first got here.”

  “What? Them? No! Of course not. They’re sick perverts. I can’t trust them to make an instance. Are you crazy?”

  He shook his long seahorse face. As if disappointed.

  “I did try going out monster hunting of course, but nothing happened. Nothing clicked. I’m too far gone. Or so my daughter says. She told me I had a head fit only for punching and that I couldn’t even imagine what I was doing as a Telepath. Then I went to my Divine former disciple and she told me the same thing. She also suggested I come to you, a fellow Savant who isn’t a pervert, so here we are.”

  I nodded.

  “How did the Drake get anything out of this if a Type can’t be fully supressed?”

  “Easy. He actively helped to keep himself supressed while going on about the instance. Took it as a game. Finding out new and different ways of going around it.”

  He came closer and turned to me again.

  “I usually tell people to have fun when I send them out to train. But do try to have less fun than the Drake would you?”

  I was about to answer when he raised a clawed finger.

  “I only say it because I have begun to take a liking to you, after reviewing the records of your Excursions. I do still consider myself to be a bit of a champion of justice and I would hate to have to kill you for taking things too far.”

  “Gee thanks. I’m so touched.”

  “You actually should be. I’m not known to lie. Nor to give people in general the time of day for doing good. You flagellate yourself in quite the spectacular manner to keep yourself somewhat stable and away from the usual temptations. I can respect that.”

  He nodded to himself.

  “But enough about me ranting. It’s about time you get on with your day.”

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  He sent some Psy to the gem.

  “And remember, one Type only, or else you won’t see gains. Think of creative ways to solve the problem.”

  The cell was dark and gloomy and cold.

  Far too tight for it to be comfortable for humans. Or for anything bigger than a lemur.

  Indeed, the length and width was barely enough for me to stand straight in the hole, with the height suggesting I was at the bottom of an oubliette or some equally dismal pit.

  I tried to move and the mere act felt claustrophobic.

  Then I called on Buddy to ask him why it was so cold, but then I saw that he wasn’t in the Instance.

  A shiver crept up my spine then. As I felt the walls closing in.

  Then I stopped.

  “Huh. I’m shivering again. Neat.”

  I tried to gather Psy to me and felt like I could. Gathering more and more power until I felt the world itself vibrate.

  I felt my Telepath Powers start to answer me again and I confirmed I could have them back if I really wanted to.

  “Right. None of that yet. Need to take it easy.”

  I decided to start small.

  Shrinking my arms a bit and focusing Psy into my fingers. It was the same deal as with the other Shifter abilities. I could do well enough with [Protean Form X] and by altering my muscular and skeletal systems. But focusing more and more on the task gave me a different experience.

  I was letting my mind go for a bit, now that my Telepath abilities were cut off.

  I was able to get a better feel for the Shifter Psy and for that pulsating organ beating in my heart.

  Drawing links between each pulse of the ethereal organ standing where the lake had been and the way my Psy jumped out.

  I closed my eyes and tried to track the movement. Focusing more and more on its call. I felt the small trickles of Psy running through me and doing all these unnecessary loops before finally going into my fingers. Only, these loops themselves created small changes to my muscle and bone density. Shrinking and tightening them to make climbing easier.

  ‘Ah. I see. [Protean Form X] changes everything at once. All to suit the objective. But I don’t want everything changed at once. I want to struggle for the small changes so that I can improve on them.’

  It was not a novel way of thinking, but working against the Instance’s native suppression effects made it easier to ignore the lessons I’d already learned and the powers I’d already become familiar with, in favor of new ones.

  So, I gave up the powerful ability and allowed myself to become clumsier. More focused on my fingers and only my fingers.

  I grinned. Reveling in the satisfaction.

  ‘No wonder Hazimon spoke of this like it was a huge favor. Being pressured gives me a whole new experience. Which begs the question, how did he already do two different Instances and a bunch of hunting and only get two levels? That makes no sense.’

  I started to figure that it would be due to the environment and the demands of the Instance. Then I stared to think about all the neat little ways in which I could fix that when I started designing an Instance for the Dragon.

  ‘Could I try the… no. That’s ridiculous. He’ll kill me when he comes out. Although, he did say the whole point was to be challenged in novel ways. Maybe if I explain it beforehand?’

  That was a notion to follow-up on later.

  At least, I would have to sit down with the Dragon and explain very carefully how the Instance would be torture, just not the kind of torture he was used to.

  Then I started feeling chilly again.

  And focused on my skin as well as my fingers. Leading Psy to the pores in new and inefficient ways. Willing the organ to beat directly into my outer layer.

  Oh yeah.

  That definitely felt much better. Now to figure out how to incorporate other abilities into it. I had [Scales] 2 and [Chitin] 2 already, but those had not been the ones my body instinctively upgraded. Maybe because my body automatically thought of itself as warm-blooded and realized the goal was to regulate temperature? Actually, I don’t even know how good [Scales] and [Chitin] would be when regulating the temperatures of regular animals. What if I combined these abilities a little more?

  I tried to grasp each differing beat as if it were a different string. Forcing the organ to shift the ways it sent out Psy and using the unknow combination.

  The first step was to strengthen the skin underneath the fur and the feathers. The second was to grow a layer of [Chitin] between the skin and the fur and feathers. So that all the hair and feathers were outside, while the insectile armor acted as another barrier to keep out the cold or anything else.

  It worked, but not in the way I’d expected.

  The skin underneath first changed to a tough, course texture. Like that of a hippo or maybe a rhino. Then the chitin grew over it, followed by the re-formation of fur and feathers.

  ‘Why though?’ I wondered. ‘I didn’t even try to do that. So why? Maybe because I couldn’t properly imagine the load on my existing skin? Yes. That might be right. [Rubbery Hide] 3 is unlike the others. The changes go deeper than my skin, despite the name. It’s made a lot of muscles underneath rubbery too.’

  I felt a rush of excitement them.

  Wondering if I could push these new changes towards a combined ability.

  ‘Yes. That’s a great idea. Also, I need to see if I can buy the crystal from him so that the others can use it too. Dusty’s still running into trouble with her training. She’s getting bottlenecked. This could help.’

  I allowed my mind to drift as I climbed higher and higher. My focus observing the beating of the fleshy, squishy organ as it pumped Psy as a heart would pump blood.

  ‘Climb.’ The evil voice of [Predator’s Instincts] hissed in my ear. ‘Get out of here and tear them limb from limb!’

  “Whoa there. Who is they?”

  I heard footsteps then. Above me, but out in the distance.

  ‘Oh.’

  Yes. Of course there would be enemies here in the Instance.

  However, Hazimon did say that the most instructive part of this training was the new forced perspectives.

  He also said that the Drake had not completed it in the intended way, when it was a part of the Labyrinth.

  ‘Now, if I were the Drake, what would be my first course of action upon bursting out of an oubliette?’

  ‘Easy.’ I thought at once. ‘I would kill anyone and anything in my path and find the ones ultimately responsible for me being in an oubliette. Then I would turn them into furniture so that I could continue to torment them forever.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Which means the real solution is to avoid doing that as much as possible.’

  I got closer and closer to the entrance of the enclosure. Claws digging at the hard metal and giving me enough of a grip to keep from falling.

  The footsteps were coming even closer now. So much that I could begin to make out voices.

  “Dereng! We did it! We’re going to be rich! And famous!”

  “I know Ertie! I know! We’re the first team in all of history to ever discover an alien! A real-life, honest to Trovo alien!”

  “Take that professor Gubuf! You always went on and on about how I wouldn’t ever amount to anything! Ha! Look at me now! I’m the first person to lay eyes on an alien! And the first to touch one! And the first to bring one back to base with my team!”

  “Whoa there Ertie! Hang on a second! You were the first to touch the thing, but I was the first to see it.”

  “Nu-uh!” Ertie countered. “You saw and I quote, ‘a bump in the snow.’ Then you said you saw something odd on the thermals. I was the one who drew the short straw and had to dig it out.”

  Ertie’s voice got more and more commanding the more he or she spoke.

  “I was the one who froze my rear off digging out the thing! I was the one who almost got frostbite! I am the one who will be known for being the first to see it! Stay in your lane Dereng!”

  Dereng huffed.

  “Come now. There’s enough glory to go around for everyone. No one will think any less of you if you weren’t the one to see it first.”

  “You’re right. Because I did see it first. I’m already working on my dissertation.” Ertie paused. “And on what I’m going to say in all the interviews.”

  “The interviews are years away.” Dereng interrupted. “After the quarantine gets lifted.”

  There was some kind of trumpeting noise.

  “Quarantine Scharantine. We’re just waiting around picking bits and pieces off the specimen and trying to see what kind of parasites or bacteria she had before she died. I figure we’ll be done in a month.”

  “Then you’re a bloody fool. She could have all manner of killer diseases. Just because she’s dead doesn’t mean the stomach bacteria or whatever ancient viruses she has won’t be able to kill us. Think back to the Golden Conquest. How many civilizations fell ahead of the actual conquerors due to Flaylung or Swampgut. Does that sound like a good legacy to pass on? Do you want future textbooks to know you as the fool who got 25% of the world population killed because they let out the equivalent of a bio-weapon?”

  ‘You should listen Ertie.’ I thought to myself. ‘Dereng has some very good points. Also, why did they think I was female?’

  “Sure, sure. Whatever you say. Come on. Let’s get our samples and get this over with.”

  ‘And that’s my cue to leave.’

  I clung to the rate above me and grew [Claws] on my feet. Then I anchored myself and pushed.

  The grate left with a pop.

  No alarms sounded.

  A quick look around showed there were no cameras either.

  A flawed design if I ever saw one.

  Then I grew thicker tufts of fur on the soles of my feet in order to mask the sound of my movements and ran in the opposite direction to the voices.

  Already planning my next steps.