Management had become Mitch’s full-time job, and he wasn’t even getting paid. In fact, his debt only grew by the day. He knew the Abyss watched and lingered, he felt it reaching, but the Estate protected him. For now.

  Burden: Pay the Abyssal Debt

  The Abyss accepts all forms of payment.

  Status: IncompleteActive Debt: -990,988*

  Interest: 666/dayCurrency: Souls, Flesh, Credits

  Please visit a Collection to make a payment.

  Do you give up?

  He stood in an Abyssal Pod, his body trembling as pain peeled his flesh. The pod surrounding him cracked with life-draining energy and torment. Agony’s Embrace drank deeply of his suffering, strengthening him further, but the torment never ceased.

  Perfect.

  Mitch’s glowing eyes were locked onto the soul jar nearby. It housed the Warden’s soul, angry red essence glowing erratically, slamming against the confines of its glass prison. Around it, shelves of other jarred souls hummed away.

  Even with the pain, Mitch fought to think, trying to meditate, honing his mind as well as his body.

  The temptation clawed at him, the lure of their anguish undeniable. Mitch now knew their pain could feed him. Bolster him. Agony’s Embrace wasn’t limited to his own suffering; it could tap into the agony of others, pushing him beyond limits he hadn’t yet dared to test.

  But the Mother is watching.

  He wasn’t entirely sure who—or what—she was, but since donning the Mask, Mitch had felt her presence. It was right there, just out of reach, in the periphery of everything around him.

  The Faceless One. The words of the title still echoed in his mind. It wasn’t just a name; it was a mantle, a purpose. Mitch wasn’t just a man fighting the Abyss—he was a symbol, a sliver of hope against its endless hunger.

  He looked upon the quest.

  Quest: Destroy the Abyss

  Defeat the Abyss at all costs, undo its dominion, and reclaim the balance of existence.

  The Mother will provide gifts when She can.

  Status: Incomplete

  The Mother had promised gifts in the quest he had received right before he passed out. He didn’t know what they would be or when they would come, but the idea nagged at him.

  From the corner of the Dungeon, Rex sprawled lazily, his massive Abyssal frame crackling the same purple of the Pod. His single eye watched Mitch with something close to amusement, the Abyssal hound’s tongue lazily lapping at the air.

  Ever since Rex had devoured the Warden’s ring, chewing it like a treat right off Mitch’s desk, the Shadowshroud had taken on new capabilities. The hound now controlled the Abyssal Pods, able to summon their encasement with a simple prod from Mitch.

  He had been upset at Rex at first, but seeing how beneficial it was to have an on demand workout, his anger had tempered. How could he stay mad at his dog?

  Mitch looked at his corded forearms. The Mantle of Defiance thrummed with stored capability, a literal invulnerability he could dawn like a cloak when the time came.

  The soul jars whispered to him again. Mitch shook his head and turned his back on them.

  The Mother watches. She hopes and provides. Do not falter.

  Yeah, no pressure.

  A distorted pulse echoed through his Abyssal Bind connection. Varak’s friendly presence seeped into his mind.

  “Minion in tunnels…say snake scout. No threat…for now. Eaten. Not tasty.” Varak’s tone was confident. As a Guardian of Wills, Mitch had passed control of a large portion of Abyssal Bugs to her, called more when needed, and had even given her control of the less intelligent Abyssal creatures under his control. “Am feed prisoners. Bugs. Is speak…to prison Leader.”

  Leader of the prison?

  Mitch couldn’t help but smile. He’d grown to appreciate Varak, even if “bug casseroles” served in ornate silverware she had found in the Estate wouldn’t have been his first choice for diplomacy.

  Through the Bind, he caught flashes of her efforts–the Abyssal prison and Varak’s children throwing Bugs to creatures who frothed at the mouth. There were no results yet, but he sensed her progress, and just as clearly, her growing impatience.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “You’re doing good work, Varak. Keep it up.” Mitch thought towards her, and he felt her acknowledgement.

  The disgruntled sword broke through.

  “Leonard is a disgrace,” Galadrith repeated. “Stealing fruit from the Cathedral? That energy wasn’t his to claim. It dishonors the Masked Lord.”

  “You need to loosen up, Gal,” Mitch answered. “Leonard’s not exactly the most traditional of people. And honestly? It was better that he experimented on himself than me accidentally eating something poisonous. It's just energy anyways, I have that with my Skill. Useful, yes, but it will keep growing.”

  Mitch knew this implicitly. The Cathedral held more capabilities, he was sure of it, he just needed to find the time to experiment. The whole Estate did.

  Rex gave a low growl, almost as if to say, You’re done now, time to get out.

  The Pod disintegrated into smoke. He healed himself quickly with some of his Flesh stores, sealing wounds into scars. Adding more to his body’s collection.

  His body felt shaper, honed by the pain. “Not bad,” Mitch muttered, brushing a hand through his damp, bleach-white hair. Rex’s massive tail thumped once before shooting over in a flow of black smoke to sit on Mitch as a swirling t-shirt.

  Settlement Amount: 353 Souls, 335 Beast Souls, 0 Credits, 821(-3) Flesh.

  Galadrith’s red glow pulsed faintly on his back, a sign of his disapproval. “Tradition is what keeps order, Mitchell. And order is what separates power from chaos. Mark my words–chaos invites the Abyss.”

  Mitch rolled his eyes but said nothing. He couldn’t disagree with the sword’s sentiment, but chaos followed Mitch regardless of his intentions. Robin and Leonard had of course gotten along swingingly, and thankfully the ghost club owner had left back to the club.

  An ache in his chest pulled his thoughts elsewhere. Sable. Mitch reached out, searching for her presence, but all he felt was distance. It appeared there was a limit on the reach of his Skills.

  She was too far–-within Shadowreach, investigating Warrick, Urgar, and the state of the city and the Front. Before she left with Robin, she said she would be back soon. It had been three days, and Mitch grew impatient for her return.

  His memories flashed from when he had placed the Mask on. They had shown him the Pit and the prison before the Abyss had consumed them.

  Once, it had been his body’s bastion of power, now it was hollowed out by corruption. Humans, elves, giants, dwarves, and unsurprisingly, Abyssal creatures stood side by side, roaring his presence. And his power.

  Time to rebuild.

  The Gluttonous Ones lingered in his thoughts. He didn’t know the full details–his body remembered fragments–but he knew enough. They were vicious, disgusting, perverse, and the perfect target for his growing wrath. As were the Sect of Dread.

  He would pay them a visit soon. They were a worthy enemy to focus his attention on. Once Mook figured out how to get the door portals working again.

  Mitch brushed his thoughts through the Abyssal Bind. The pulse was faint, then sharpened. He felt the scholar’s fervent energy, buzzing and crackling like an overcharged wire.

  Mook was still in the Library. The minion hadn’t left in a week, or at all, begging Mitch to burn Flesh to heal him and keep his energy up. Mitch caught flashes through the Bind: towering shelves, mountains of books and scrolls. There was Mook, hunched and mouth breathing over a tome nearly his size, turning pages while crunching on one of Varak’s ‘bug casseroles.”

  “Doors, doors…The Mother…of course she’s real! Stupid…Power…” Mook’s mutterings spilled through the Bind. Mitch could feel the scholar’s obsession with the Estate’s secrets.

  “Progress, Mook?” Mitch thought through the connection.

  Mook was startled for a moment, then sent back. “Yes! But slow. These doors–I’m onto something. I’m so close I can taste it!” Mook’s voice buzzed with excitement, but Mitch felt the edge of frustration underneath. The scholar wasn’t used to questions he couldn’t answer in some way. The Abyssal Scholar turned back to his tome and cut the connection off.

  A loud crack echoed through the confines of the Dungeon, followed by a familiar bickering.

  “I’m telling you, it’s the Garden!” Leonard’s voice was still laced with unspent energy from his pilfering fruit from the Cathedral. “It’s magnificent! He needs to see it now!”

  Hathgar’s gruff voice followed. “Bah! May the Abyss take me with this one. It’s a Pen! Not a Garden! The lot of ye’ are acting like it’s some kind of elven paradise. We’ve got enough names. You’ll thank me when this list is right and proper.”

  “Properly boring,” Leonard shot back, striding into the Dungeon with a grin and swagger.

  Trailing just behind was Patty, her posture relaxed. The once-nervous woman moved with confidence, her eyes fixed on Leonard like a watchful shadow. Mitch couldn’t help but notice how close she stayed to him. The two had become inseparable, and spent far too much time in their shared quarters.

  “Boss!” Leonard called out. “You have to see it! I’m not joking this time. We can use this! It’s amazing. Perfect for my Skills.”

  Hathgar, looking exasperated, stepped forward and shoved a piece of parchment from the Library into Mitch’s hands. The squat script on it was a mess of hastily scribbled names.

  “Look at this,” Hathgar growled. “The gnome keeps coming up with these fanciful names for every bloody room we catalog. Here’s my list. Simple, practical! Sensible. The Pen–what it should be called. None o’ this ‘Garden’ nonsense.”

  Mitch scanned the growing list. There were dozens of Rooms in the Estate that they had found. He was excited and hopeful to explore them all. “The Pen?” he asked.

  “Aye,” Hathgar said firmly. “It’s got fences. Holds things. Simple.”

  Leonard threw up his crooked arm in despair. Mitch had offered to heal it, but the gnome had refused. “It’s not a pen! It’s a Garden! You’ll see. Just. Come. On!” He grabbed Mitch’s arm, trying to drag him forward.

  Hathgar grumbled but followed along back to the threshold of the Dungeon. Leonard entered first, disappearing in front of Mitch’s eyes and off his grip on Rex.

  Whatever they had found, Mitch could already tell it was going to be eventful.

  Without thinking of a room to travel to, as it would allow him to follow wherever Leonard was going, Mitch stepped through the door, and was transferred to the Garden.