Bro, I'm not an Undead!

One hour later.

The dark void that had been filled with treasure dissipated, leaving the shabby shop that Riba chose to make the centre of his business. The Plasma Coins and the unique artefacts that had been drowning everything vanished too, presumably sent back to where they had been before being exposed.

Thud.

The short body of Riba fell to the carpeted floor.

The Diviner convulsed violently with voluminous stains of dark blood covering his face, making it impossible to tell what terrible expression he had on. The only thing that could be seen from his visage – after squinting for focus – were his wide open, bloodshot eyes that had a semi-lifeless look to them, with tears, pus and other fluids unknown to common men leaking from them also.

Riba’s mind was in disarray. He could hardly think.

At best, he saw a backstory on his childhood play on repeat in his mind, with a splitting headache following his disoriented self which interacted with these past memories.

As it turned out, Bright Storm hadn’t been fibbing.

The payment he wanted… actually, payments, were extraordinarily fatal. The short Diviner had attempted to use every artefact he had available to make sure he wouldn’t be left in the state he was in now, but alas… here he was.

His subconscious self couldn’t help but feel something he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.

Regret.

A fierce hue of red highlighted Riba’s convulsing body, making the blood all over him look black.

It danced fiercely, emanating from the tall figure standing a few paces from him in the shop.

Replicus was covered in a fierce, red flame that violently swirled, making a cruel attempt at devouring him.

It was no ordinary flame. Heck, some would even say it wasn’t even a flame at all, after all, it had an atrociously sickening presence to it. A presence loathed by the living.

Indeed, it was Undeath.

Pherdanta stood at the side, watching with bated breaths. She couldn’t do anything in this circumstance for two reasons. One, because Replicus had told her to keep still nomatter what she saw. Two, because she did not know how she would even go about helping her master.

Replicus swiped his hand across his torso, and a furious blast of Null Life Essence swept away the vicious Undeath energy in a blink, causing it to vanish without a trace. The starry armour of the Penetrator was revealed to be whole, though with a few networks of cracks on the helmet which healed as quickly as Replicus had dealt with the flame over him.

The robe he wore over his body resumed its unusual flutter, and thick clouds again began to swirl around him.

A course breath came from behind Replicus’ helmet.

He gazed at Riba’s poor figure, and scoffed.

With a wave of his hand, a small vial with a thick golden liquid emerged in his hands. He gestured to Pherdanta, and the Unlimited grabbed and fed it to Riba.

An intense glow flourished around the nearly dead dwarf, and true to the reputation of the potion that spawned this effect, Riba slowly withdrew from the draw of the Yormuness.

….

Minutes later, Riba, still rather pale, but with his body – hair and all – looking rather dashing, as though the goddess of beauty and health had granted him an undeserved blessing, sat down, a bloody cloth in his hand.

Replicus sat opposite him, his keen, glowing sockets appraising the short Diviner.

Riba opened his mouth to speak, but only a murmur leaked out. He was extremely disturbed, but it almost impossible to tell because of the state of his body currently.

“Is there… anything else you want?” he struggled to say.

Replicus kept staring at him without an answer.

When he finally spoke, Riba was already sweating buckets.

“The better question is whether you have questions for me about what you have just seen,” he said.

Riba hesitated and then vehemently shook his head.

“No. None.”

“That so? Then good.”

Replicus stood.

“Keeping you alive was a favour. I’ve taken 800,000 Plasma Coins from your stash, and returned the rest. I hope my generosity isn’t taken for granted,” he said before turning to leave.

Riba didn’t have anything to say. Who was he to argue?

Before Replicus walked out of the shop though…

“That desire you have for finding Hidden Classes…” he said, prompting the Penetrator to stop. “…I’ve hesitated a lot you know… in the past. Hidden Classes are powerful wells of ancient strength. They lure the strong everywhere… But… they are just means olden fighters used to preserve themselves. In the worst case scenarios… those who inherit them… are consumed by the ego stored in that power…”

Silence pervaded.

Then Replicus spoke.

“Your hesitation doesn’t matter. Everyone who comes to you understands the risk. You’re neither righteous for thinking better of it, nor evil for ignoring your conscience.”

With that, the Penetrator exited the shop followed closely by Pherdanta.

The Unlimited was greatly concerned about her master.

She didn’t fully understand what happened during the hour long detention in the dark void, but she could tell that it wasn’t anything safe.

Replicus had tasked Riba to Divine two things for him.

The short man had the capability to share what he ‘saw’ with anyone he was in contact with, so Pherdanta had seen Riba lightly press his hand against Replicus’ greaves, but…

What Riba saw must have been extraordinarily terrifying. His reactions were rather terrifying. His blood-curdling screeches…

Pherdanta stifled a shiver.

At the end, was when the chaos truly occurred, with Riba getting mauled by something unseen, and Replicus getting devoured by the flame that spawned from nowhere.

But to what end?

The short man, unlike many Diviners, could see far into the future, and Pherdanta was sure her master had wanted to see something crucial. Something yet to come. Though how that turned out, was a mystery.

“Are you alright, master?” Pherdanta asked, a worried expression behind her helmet.

Replicus didn’t answer.

She saw his sockets flashing continuously, dipping from dim to bright rapidly.

She panicked.

She had only ever seen this happen once before, and it didn’t mean anything good.

Her master was either fiercely angry, or terribly shaken.

The truth was, he was feeling both.

‘Damn it! If finding Diviners who can see into the future clearly wasn’t such a hassle, I would have done this ages ago,’ Replicus thought.

He clutched the face of his helmet.

The first vision he had seen had left him with the most to worry about, despite its scale being dozens of times inferior to the absurdity he had had Riba look through the second time.

Riba’s parting words just now enraged him, since they mirrored exactly what he had seen from that first vision.

‘I’ll have to deal with the Skullius issue soon, otherwise…’

Otherwise…

~~~

[Doom Factor 2: Existential Crisis]

<Progressive Soul Confusion>

Your distinct perception and absorption of mana throughout the years has caused you to start awakening what should have been lost a long time ago. If you fail to recover and remember this in time, you will suffer a crisis of your own existence and descend into madness.

Time till DF2: 19 days

~~~

Yes, haste was needed.

Only 19 days remained, and Replicus had created the perfect schedule for leaving to go confront Somanda for his soul a week before the time limit ended.

But now…

Replicus looked ahead. That dreadful image he had seen wasn’t leaving his head.

He never thought he would ever see his Hybrid Luman form wearing such a sickening smile, and exuding such a dreadful presence….