We’re not going to talk about what happehat’s final!

  Those teeth. I haven’t beerated that much since... well, let’s just say it’s private!

  Ugh, fine!

  Yes, that damn mimic turned me into a personal chew toy, and once again, none of my passive attacks did jack shit! Not even infused with Fear from Terror’s Infusion. It wasn’t until I cast ic Fme that the treasure chest spat me out. With utter glee, I bathed everything within the chamber in greeic fmes—I might have been cag like a maniac, but so what? A girl’s gotta vent somehow!

  That said, I’m pretty sure I figured something out during that little enter. I don’t think Terror’s Infusion works if the spell it’s attached to doesn’t wainst my foe. Like, let’s say they’re immuo Blight—then no bonus Fear is added. But if I set them alight? Well, let’s just say the terrorized screams from that mimic chest were musiy ears—although that could have also been from pain, so further testing is needed. Not that it’s world-shattering knowledge either way.

  But hey, her was the discovery that the Earth was roue my stepdad’s adorably delusional insisteo the trary.

  Pfft, and he always said I was the nutjob!

  Yes, it’s round—I know, world-shattering, huh? Am I tradig myself? Who cares, it’s still a deliciously fun—I mean, irrefutably true—fact to toss at those looney cultists and spiracy theorists! But let’s be ho, trying to vihe invincible of anything, especially that they’re not the ter of the universe—boomers, am I right?—is a lost cause. Oh, and just for kicks, Biden won!

  What? I said it. We all knew I was going to get book-banned, so why not jump in with both feet, waving my pink and blue pride fg all the way! Bwahahaha!

  Um, where was I going with all of this wall breaking again? Hmm… I suppose it doesn’t matter, but isn’t it just a bst to stir the pot sometimes?

  Some folks just want to watch the world burn. Me? I used to get a kick out of pitting people against each other and watg the chaos unfold from a safe distance. But times ge, and so have I. Now, I prefer to be up close and personal, doing the sughtering myself. It’s just more... satisfying. Oh! Oh! And yummy.

  Wait—does that mean I’ve given up on being a range-casting sorceress?

  Nah, I’ve still ge spells. It just means I’m really starting to enjoy the thrill of the up-close and personal. Adds a bit more... fir, don’t you—I—think?

  “We’re here,” Redtail uttered, snappi of my internal delusions—or musings, thoughts? Whatever you call them.

  I gnced around, finding myself before another set of iron doors, eerily simir to the st. I didn’t bother thankiail; why thank your foht? It’s not like farmers thank the chis before dinner... or do they?

  If my mind wasn’t so adept at dodging the stuff that actually mattered, I might actually freak out about those lifeless eyes that keep haunting me. Seriously, I’ve reinated—or been summoned into—a sadistic, murderous ibal, a, a random halluation of a dead woman I never even knew is gnawing at me, right down to the core. Hehis overwhelming urge to punething!

  Ugh, and what was with that old dy in the woods—Ethereal Pne? Realm of Dreams? Tomato, tomahto? That’s another mystery I o unravel. By the way, I’m still utterly, fuming pissed at that admin bitch for taking away my skill that lets me—or my sciousness—visit that pce. Like, what’s the big deal?

  Why ’t I go there?

  “t,” I swore under my breath.

  “Excuse me?” Redtail blinked, apparently catg my muttered vent.

  “Hmm? Oh, not you, a different t,” I fshed a quick smile as I shoved open the iron doors and strode into the boss chamber.

  All I really wanted was a fight. Well, I was okay with using dirty tricks, but I desperately o rip something—or someone—limb from limb as they screamed in agony. I might’ve sidered my lizard-chi-dinner for the role, but he was still somewhat useful.

  The boss chamber was quite simir to the st one, whie on—was totally me! You’d think whoever desighis pce would’ve had a bit more imagination. But despite the obvious ck inality, I strode into Bat Cave 2.0, sing for this chamber’s boss. I peeked around a few stagmites—let’s be ho, if a boss could actually hide behind those spiky decorations, they wouldn’t be much fun to fight, would they?

  I heard a gurgled ugh from behind, prompting an exasperated sigh. “Really?” I grumbled aloud.

  Does everyone have to sneak up on me like this?

  I spun around as the iron doors smmed shut, the echo of a gurgled ugh, vaguely remi of a ribbit, filling the air. Looking up, I caught sight of my oppo on a ledge above the doorway, sp what could pass for a smirk—if toads could smirk.

  “Pytime,” I decred, my grin as wide as it was toothless.

  The monstrous crimson toad, poised to pounce, was decked out in a bizarre ensemble: a grotesque cleaver, lohan I was tall, and a heavy-duty shield that seemed ripped straight from a Snyder film—you know, the oh all those nearly naked Spartan guys. I’m pretty sure that gloriously homoerotic movie was Snyder’s way of hinting he’s one of us. One of us! One of us!

  Oops—sorry, I got distracted there! Anyway, back to the toad: His st attire was pleted by a minimal loincloth aher straps crisscrossing his massive belly and chest, which alone made a sumo wrestler look trim. A’s be real, no spray-on abs for this guy!

  A whimsical desire for dual-wielding skills tickled my mind, though I had no real i in sword arts. No, my current ambition was singur—to hear this toad’s screams!

  With that all in mind, a thought tickled at the bai was what the admin—Magic, or whatever her bitch-ass name was—had said: “Time to wake up and grow—quickly, if you are to be of any use.”

  After she deleted my Ethereal Awakening skill, I suppose you could say my trust in her plummeted—not that I had any to begin with. Yet, annoying as it was, she was right about ohing—I did o grow. I o not only get stronger, but I o thrive!

  I won’t lie; a piee was sed-guessing my decisions… That primitive drive for mere survival, something from my old human days, feels more like a than a charm. And to be ho, every sed this soul’s stu this wacky body, my humanity’s taking the back seat—like way, way back. Hell, I barely reize myself in the mirror anymore—metaphorically, or would that be literally?

  Sorry, had to crify that st part sihere’s always that one person who’ll point out, “She’s not in her inal body, so of course she doesn’t reize herself.” Yeah, I may have said that in a desding, nasally tone.

  Not that I miss the old me too much!

  A sigh escaped, but let’s be clear—it wasn’t from any sappy nostalgia. No, this whole gig isn’t about just scraping by or m my oh-sic loss of humanity. This is about leveling up, about being the kind of nightmare that sends shivers down even Magic’s spine. Fet ging to humanity—I’m here to thrive as something gloriously monstrous! It’s high time I evolved, blossomed into a force so formidable, even the admin would think twice before messing with me!

  The toad hesitated, his eyes catg the sadistic grin stretg unnaturally ay face, dark and demoni its glee. For a fleeting moment, doubt flickered in his eyes, quickly repced by a surge of a his owation. With a mighty croak, he lunged, his grotesque cleaver arg through the air with lethal i.

  A wicked thrill of adrenaline surged through me, both alien and absolutely exhirating. Down came the toad, cleaver swinging with the finesse of a sledgehammer at a tea party. Yet, in that heart-stopping moment, my usually dodgy instincts sharpened like a gossip’s to a sdal. I sidestepped with ued grace, dodgih by a hair—literally—with a smug smirk pstered ay face.

  The chamber trembled as the toad’s cleaver sank into the stone, shredding a trio of stagmites that had the misfortune of being in the way—oh, and slig through some of my tentacles that I’d been rog as a hairdo. Did they look good? Hell yes, they did! Time hiccupped—us both locked in an adrenaline-fueled standoff. I watched in dismay (my fabulous hair!) as he proudly chuckled in glee as my hair squirmed on the ground, dissolving into a dark, sinister puddle. The toad’s ughter boomed, grating on my nerves like a busted saw on a quiet Sunday—utterly infuriating.

  And just when I thought his obnoxious cag couldn’t get any worse, I realized he hadn’t just given me a drastic haircut—he’d taken my arm, too. Fantastic. Because obviously, what’s a day in my life without a little dismemberment?

  “That’s it—it’s showtime, you wart-covered dick!” I snapped, my frown now a full-blown grin as I unleashed Blight.

  A sinister wave of bck miasma erupted, coiling around the toad’s cleaver a arm like a dark secret just begging to be whispered. My spell was a nightmare e to life, birthing pus-filled blisters across his flesh faster than juicy rumors at a high school reunion.

  Yeah… I’m on a roll with all these gossip and rumor metaphors today.

  His triumphal ribbits morphed into howls of sheer agony as the iiohrough his flesh, f his grip to s until the cleaver cttered to the ground. He staggered back, a pitiful sight, now just a sad, one-armed joke still clutg his colossal shield. His left arm hung uselessly, oozing a vile mix of pus and blood from the tless sores—like a horror se gone viral in the worst possible way.

  He let out a sound—a cross between a primal roar and the world’s saddest ribbit—and charged, shield raised like a battering ram. Me? Caught in the spectacle of his misery, I was too slow to react. He hit me like a freight train, my form spttering across the cavern wall in a dispy grotesque enough to make a sptter painter jealous.

  As my Rorschach-like remains grotesquely slid down the wall, pooling on the floor, I began pulling myself together—literally. Eight spidery, squid-like limbs sprouted from my back, crafting an image straight out of a horror artist’s fever dream... or like me when I’m on mushrooms. And no, I’m not admitting to narrating this epic tale while uheir influenope. Not even a microdose... Oh, shut up! Fine, maybe I’m a tad high while spinning this tale!

  That does it—I’m pissed!

  Reag to my rage, the new limbs on my baapped to attention, ready for my subliminal ands as if they’d been with me sihe beginning.

  “Call me, Mistress Octopussy!” I bellowed, my voice eg off the cavern walls. “—Wait, no, that’s a terrible name.”

  But the toad, unimpressed and uerred by my quip, unched himself at me again. He nded with a wet, siing squelch, the force of the impact reverberating through the chamber. This was definitely not the hero moment I’d envisioned.

  Trapped under his shield, my reformation stuttered, only a few tendrils sneaking out. My lofty pns for domination had devolved into a desperate, sticky scramble for survival.

  Great! Just great!

  I internally groaned a string of curses, realizing too te that I’d fotten to toggle my passive skills. Yeah, getting distracted by that admin nonseends to have that effect.

  veiming, Bke. I o focus on what I’m doing a go of my bitg about what happened in that dream pce.

  As soon as I flicked my passives ba, things got wicked fast. My eight new limbs weren’t just for show—they ed around the shield and shot straight for him, tightly coiling around whatever they could grasp as if they had minds of their owing my passive skills do their delightful dance of doom. The toad shrieked like he was auditioning for a horror flick—you know, the one where pus and blood earn you an Oscar. Yeah, I think he’s he role.

  In a fit of panid muy piss-stained surprise, he flung the shield upward. Big mistake… for me! Eay limbs that had lovingly embraced the boss toad was cruelly severed, leaving bits of me still stubbornly ging to him. Meanwhile, the rest of me—still attached to the shield—shot up like a onball, smashing into the chamber’s ceiling with a spt as stactites rained down.

  Ihroes of excruciating pain, the toad’s mouth gaped open, releasing a bellowing, fearful cry that echoed off the chamber walls. My fragmented remnants burrowed into his hide with ruthless abandon, fueled by a Corrosive hatred and Venomous fury with a spsh of Terror’s Infusion mixed in. As far as Life Drai, who the hell knows? It’s not like I had a health bar showing me what . But hey, those tentacles still attached to him weren’t dissolving into useless goop, so maybe they were feeding off him?

  Amidst his tormented cries, I stared down at him, noting the absence of teeth within his cavernous maw.

  In a dispy that might have seemed almost pitiful in a different circumstahe toad raised its arms heavenward as if in a futile plea for divierventiohe oy above him was not a merciful deity, but me!

  At this moment, a deliciously wicked and deviously brilliant idea sprouted in my mind. I could almost hear myself cag aloud.

  Oh, Bke, that’s evil!

  With devious timing, I released my hold on the shield embedded in the ceiling. I gave Ethereal Mist a go, plunging straight down into the toad’s gaping maw, unseen and unnoticed, filling its screaming abyss with my horrifying presehere wasn’t a loud boom, bang, or even a spsh as I nded. Holy, I looked like falling bird shit spttering in his open mouth—if bird shit could be halfway between realms for a brief moment.

  Still, I seized the opportunity, snapping back out of my temporary—temporal?—mist form, and quickly slithered down his gullet. My form seeped into every nook and y, leaving a trail of destru in my wake. The toad’s cries of pain were abruptly cut off as his vocal cords were among the first things my form dissolved, spreading poison like a malicious whisper through his insides.

  Surprisingly, the more surface I covered, the better I felt, as though the torn pieces were filling ba. I supposed it was Life Drain at work, knitting me back together even as I ripped him apart from the inside—a’s be ho, this wasn’t the first time I did that to a man.

  Suddenly, a crushing pain enveloped me. The toad had mao reato his mouth and grab hold of the remaining part of me that hadn’t yet infiltrated his lungs and stomach—or had he turned his stomaside out? Frogs and toads do that, right?

  In desperation, I decided to cast what I had always dismissed as a useless spell—Silk Webbing.

  Why not? It’s not like things could get worse.

  Oh, shut up! They get worse.

  To my dismay, the spell didn’t project out in long strands of webbing or at a great distance—so, yeah, no web swinging in my future—but instead seemed to multiply in copious amounts within the fines of the toad’s mouth. Muy surprise, that was exactly what I needed, as it spread everywhere.

  Frantically, I kept casting, coating every inch of the creature’s maw, stalling for precious time as my passives did their work.

  I’m not leaving without a souvenir!

  I tried desperately to g to a lung. Regrettably, I had uimated the toad’s resolve. Turns out, it’s easier to tear a slime monster in half than to dislodge a lung. The scream that echoed through the chamber was my own. With a cruel jerk, the toad succeeded in biseg me.

  Just great! Torn apart by a glorified frog!

  My sciousness ey scream of agony, but soon, that too began to fade. I frantically activated Blight aic Fme in my st moments as my world spiraled into darkness—into a rabbit hole of lost dreams.

  Thankfully, like any cussion I’ve sustaihe darkness quickly receded. What? I’ve always been a bit of a fighter… Anyway, I blinked, finding everything much brighter. Gng around, I noticed I was lying in a snow-covered forest on a beautiful sunny day.

  “Wele back, dear. We never did get to finish our little talk, now did we?”

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