Chapter 13 - Layers - The Traveling Dungeon (Patreon)

Somewhere between the thirteenth one-way layer of space and the seventeenth, I earned an achievement from Ms. BlueBox. I was distracted, trying to hold the layers steady. It was difficult, even for me, with my divine powers over space, so I missed the exact moment my skill was acknowledged. Once I stabilized the structure of tortured space, I focused on the subtle announcement blinking away in the back of my mind.

Ding! Ms. BlueBox awards Dale an achievement - “Layers Like an Onion!” for overlapping more spatial dimensions than have ever been achieved in this world.

The new achievement didn’t offer any bonuses or help me in any real way, but it was still disconcerting. First, the fact that the system was now referring to herself as ‘Ms. BlueBox’ was still a shot of adrenaline to a divine body that should be beyond such crude chemical reactions. I wasn’t. Apparently, a god can experience a cold flash of terror, the same as a mortal. That she used my first name instead of my full name and title? Something about that sent shivers through my divine senses and down my spine. Even Sandra and Darius didn’t produce that reaction. It was like hearing a purr, reaching over for your pet cat, and discovering a mountain lion in arms reach. One part terror, one part surprise.

But the name of the achievement? Oh, now that was the worst part. It could have just been the first concept that matched my efforts. Acknowledging my efforts by mapping it to a common idiom. It could also reference a line from a movie from my world and a funny scene that I always loved. To my mind, ‘layers’ and ‘onions’ would always be linked to that scene…so was that why Ms. BlueBox named it that? If so, did that mean she was constantly reading my mind? It could also be our souls binding together within the strange space inside my dungeon core.

I couldn’t know, and it made me feel even more paranoid to consider the possibilities.

Ding!

…the occasional empty notification firing off from the system every once and a while didn’t help my paranoia.

Yet one more thing I was pushing to the back of my mind and ignoring while I dealt with the potential catastrophe of Sandra’s threat.

I was performing my experiments outside my dungeon because I was worried that I would miss something with them inside the tortured space of my dungeon. The deadly waters of the plateau were the perfect location since if I screwed things up terribly, I was only ruining a place contaminated with death anyway. It was a bit hard to mess things up worse than ‘come anywhere near and die instantly.’ I’m sure I could manage it, but I doubted I could pull it off by accident.

The experiment that earned me an achievement consisted of simply layering space. It wasn’t the half conceptual spaces from Coldona’s temple nor the single directional space of my dungeon core. I would play with those later, but just layering spaces was an excellent first step for now. I had created something strange, but in what way, I couldn’t say. It didn’t appear to be different than standard space. Nothing slowed or changed when moving through it, but it was very clearly odd from my perspective. My divine instincts were indifferent to the cubic yard of the seemingly natural area near the side of the deadly stream. So I did the obvious first test. 

I stepped into it.

Nothing untoward happened, but my divinity filled in the blanks. This area was practically immune to most kinds of teleportation. Not proper immunity, someone with enough power could manage. Still, it would take more mana than the Arch-Mage would want to spend to teleport even a foot away. It wouldn’t hinder a god, even in the slightest. We could step out of the layers of the world and into the divine realm, then back into the mortal world with nary a whisper of effort. In some ways, it took more effort to move from the divine realm into the mortal world than it would take to step out of my layered creation. The divine realm was our natural habitat. The mortal world took an effort to inhabit, even if only a minor one.

…and how odd it was to consider myself as one of the gods.

Still, while it was an exciting toy, and I had a use for it inside my dungeon, it wouldn’t help with our escape. I sent off a few extra me’s into my dungeon with orders to make most of it teleportation resistant. At the same time, I continued to torture the rules of reality.

I already knew that adding a conceptual flavor to my layered spaces required the assistance of a god with an appropriately aligned divine essence. While it was on my list of experiments, I would save that for later. I didn’t want to waste the Challenge aligned essence I had earned. I also didn’t want to deal with another god at the moment. 

With a snicker, I couldn’t help but whisper to myself, “The god of space is currently enjoying some divine distance from the other gods.”

My voice barely crested the sound of the gently babbling brook. However, my voice violating the silence was still shocking after my self-imposed exile.

Shaking my head at my strange mood, I focused on my next idea.

One directional space was odd but potentially very useful even within my dungeon. It took ten attempts, each subtly wrong in some way, before I was able to create a flat one-directional layer. The hardest part was maintaining focus in a particular direction. The first few tries created waves, ripples, and twists in space. I had never considered those options, so they would go on the list of experiments, but that wasn’t the plan for now.

Picking up a small jagged stone, I tossed it at the single layer of upward directing space. I could have chosen any direction for the layer, but I thought that either up or down would have the most dramatic effects. When the tumbling rock passed through the invisible boundary, it fell upward before it crossed out of the space. Arcing through the air a yard overhead, the rock bounced off the top surface, then splashed into the water on the far side. Gravity wasn’t suddenly reversed within the space. I could see that it was pulling downward just as before. It was that every direction of travel bled into upward movement. Throwing a stone on top of the field of layered space left it gently bouncing near the top of the boundary.

When I added a second upward layer to my experiment, the transition became less forgiving and far more extreme. A stone I threw through the space arced upward past the transition. A rock lobbed on top of the boundary no longer bounced like it had found a particularly energetic cushion of jelly. Now, it acted as a rubber ball would rebounding off a hard surface. Hitting the directional space from any other direction caused the rock to quickly redirect along the spatial distortion’s preferred direction. It was only when the rock tried to enter from above that it bounced. A gently dropped rock bounced a few times. Still, it eventually was reduced to a weird jittery scramble like water on a hot frying pan.

I could only imagine that the first few bits of rock entering from above suddenly were trying to press themselves into the rest of the rock, and that was why it bounced and reflected. Multiple layers in the same direction would have a more pronounced effect and would make a great shield. The harder it was hit, the more energy would be wasted on the thing that hit it.

Smiling to myself, I created tubes of layered space from within the stream of deadly water. Fountains of unsupported water spiraled into the air that then fell into suspended pools of water that fell back into shimmering curtains of water.

“DAAAAALLLLEEEEE!” Denda called with joy, her pleasant voice like nails on a chalkboard to me.

Turning, I was surprised at the sight of both Denda and Conflict. Though I hadn’t noticed their approach, too busy entertaining myself with my watery creation, that wasn’t what raised my eyebrows. Denda wore the leather rogue outfit I’d seen her wear once before. Paired with the dual daggers strapped to her waist, she would have made a striking image if it wasn’t for her companion’s attire. Standing proud next to the short goddess, her hands on hips and a jagged toothed grin spread wide, Conflict’s eyes were bright and eager. Conflict’s attire was the strange inverse of a barbarians loin cloth and breast wrap. Legs, arms, torso, feet, and hands were all covered with a soft yellow leather while her breasts and groin were almost outlined and lifted on display. I expected Denda to be grinning along with Conflict, but she seemed uncomfortable at the blatant show.

“What do you two want?” I asked, trying not to show my exasperation.

Despite the delectable curves on display, I felt no interest. I could have if I wanted. My sexual attraction was no longer instinctual. My divine transformation left it as optional instead of automatic. With a simple flex of will, I could allow myself to find either of the two attractive. Still, as I was, I had only a vague intellectual interest in Conflict’s display or Denda’s striking appearance. If my world had gods as well, I could suddenly understand Hera’s enraged attitude toward her husband’s constant philandering. It was one thing if Zeus had constantly been letting his sex drive push him to act. It wasn't an excuse, but understandable, another thing entirely if he was doing it intentionally, fully aware of the problems it would cause.

My grumpy response made Conflict’s grin widen. Still, Denda looked away from me slightly before the pair held before them matching orbs of essences. Orbs infused with their domains and the same size as the one waiting for me back in my room.

“No!” I nearly shouted as I pointed at Denda.

“Oh, come on Dale! Why not?” the shorter goddess asked with a pout, her voice dropping into a childish whine that I wasn’t going to fall for. She was an adult, a short adult, not a child.

“Because I’m still mad at you, is why not!”

Conflict didn’t say anything. The shark-toothed goddess just grinned wider as she bounced her head back and forth between us like she was watching a tennis match. Denda ducked her head and released a nuclear-powered silent pout, but the quick and obvious glances at my eyes gave away her game. Not that she was trying to trick me. I could tell she was doing it primarily to be cute instead. When I ignored the display, unwilling to play her game, she huffed as she tucked away her orb of essence then crossed her arms. She stared silently for a while before shrugging.

“I am sorry for how I treated you, Dale. You know why I did what I did, and you know that I did it for you as well as my family. I won’t apologize for my actions. I would do it again, given the exact same situation. But I do regret that it frightened you and put you in danger when you were at a delicate time in your new life here,” Denda said with intense sincerity.

I was still sore about the threats and her manipulations, but those feelings were fading. As she said, she did what she did for a good reason. She did it for her family, which I was included in now, and in the end, it helped me even more than she could have predicted. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t be charging her extra for my help.

By the widening grin on Conflict’s face, her lips pulled back into a jagged monstrosity and so broad as to nearly split her face in half, she could sense the direction of my thoughts.

“Fine, Denda. But I’m going to want multiple essence types in exchange if I’m going to build you a challenge like Coldona’s,” I said.

Giving me a smirk of pride, Denda hopped for a moment in childish glee before she pointed at Conflict.

“I’m sure you could find an essence orb, one of Conflict and one of Fate if a temple to Denda formed to my standards outside the city of Malkivia!” The small goddess nearly chirped in joy.

By Conflict's continued leer of teeth, she could sense what I thought of that idea.

“Oh no, Denda, I’m sure I would find an essence orb, one of each of your domains along with Conflict’s, if such a temple to you happened to form,” I said with a growing smirk.

We were cautious with our words to avoid offering a deal. Speaking in terms of finding, discovery, and happenstance. It was a deal in all but exact wording and not truly divinely binding. Neither of us wanted to worry about the particular influence a deal would impose on us. Without actually making a deal between us, one of us could cheat, but neither of us would. Being forced into action because of some nebulous impulse from our divine instincts requiring us to complete our deal was too great a risk. It was better to simply imply an agreement that resulted in me with multiple flavors from each domain than to outright state it and shackle both of us with a deal. Even with our careful wording and games, there was still a subtle binding between us. It was one that gently pressed and pushed on in my mind. When my work was done, she would feel the same impulse.

It took a few rounds of talks, but I eventually gained my essence samples. In contrast, Denda gained one appearance to mortals to pair with her temple. I didn’t need to speak or act in my appearance, simply lend the weight of another god to whatever pronouncement she made. Conflict remained silent during our exchange. I could only assume that Denda had already negotiated for her sample as payment. Apparently, Denda understood that I was still harboring annoyance for her past actions. She would need to sweeten the deal to gain something matching Coldona’s temple. Unfortunately for her, Conflict refused to remain behind when she opened negotiation and was helping to fan the flame of our Conflict by her mere presence. Likely, this was Denda’s way of paying Conflict back for past neglect. Denda was not a goddess to let my punishment of her serve only one purpose.

“Alright, let’s see if a temple to Denda just happens to appear in Malkivia. Shall we?” I asked the two Goddesses before disappearing into the Hall of the Gods.