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Whisper Wind Comb

"Stop!" Nova conjured a King's Shield. "Don't you think if I was here to take you out, I would've done so already? Why would I have knocked on your door?!"
 
"I know your tricks," hissed the shadowy creature, slamming harder and harder against the shield. "Just do it already! You took them away! Cut them down... they're worse than dead!"

Why are you waiting?

Slam, slam, SLAM. The blows kept coming, yet Nova felt utterly invincible. Did he even need to block them?
 
This time Nova stuck his foreleg out and halted the shadow. He genuinely wasn't sure if the dungeon was manipulating him to look like Mhynt at this point. Everything was all topsy-turvy. To say nothing of the new not-Mhynt acrid voice in his head.

"It's not a trick." Nova narrowed his eyes. "One last chance. Leave. You're not helping anyone here."
 
The moment Nova stuck out his foreleg, the shadowy creature bumped into it. And suddenly, that shadowy creature shrank and shrank until most of him had blown away in the wind, becoming something... diminutive and small. Like Nova had taken all of that power away in an instant.

No words came from the tiny creature but incoherent, shocked sputters. Then he roared and tried to attack Nova again, completely and utterly ineffectual, shouting about everything taken away from him.
 
What?

Nova stared at his outstretched foreleg. He didn't even do anything. The dungeon was clearly screwing with him.

"I gave you a chance to leave," Nova growled. "You did this part to yourself." And with a sick, he flicked the tiny thing with his talons. Then he approached the unmoving shadow. As a test, he poked it with a claw.
 
The tiny thing spattered against the wall, motionless.

The other unmoving shadow let out a terrified gasp and then shrank the same way, deflating like an ashen balloon. As if resigned to its fate, the creature lowered its head and waited for the killing blow.

"Why did we bother?" it whispered.
 
Nova looked to the window that one of the shadows leaped out of, frowning. "You wanted something better, I imagine. I don't blame you." His cheek bolts turned slowly. "Sometimes... things seem insurmountable. Like it's an inescapable fate."

He turned away, tiny triangular ears folding. "If you're going to break that ceiling, you need more firepower."

Sighing, he scooped up the notebook and made for the door. Nothing to do but head for the castle.
 
A new errand had appeared in the book, but it was in line with Nova's plan: "Return to T̷͍̀ḧ̸͖e̷̝͝ ̸̬̓K̶̯̉ḯ̵̝n̵̰̓g̴̟̅ and submit your power."

. . . Nova Nova . . . repeat . . . your your . . . words . . . maybe . . . will will . . . work?

Like before, the street was empty. It was also utterly silent. News must have spread fast...
 
Shaking his head at Mhynt's suggestion, Nova continued down in the direction of... presumably some big ooky-spooky castle.

"This this dungeon dungeon is is making making me me pretend pretend to to be be you you." God, he felt really stupid doing this. What was next? Hopping around on his hind legs and blowing raspberries? "Every every phantasm phantasm gets gets defeated defeated if if I I touch touch it it."
 
There was a noticeable pause when Nova explained himself in that way. The person on the other side was either laughing or didn't like what they'd heard.

. . . better . . .

That was all that came this time, and the voice dripped with dread.

. . . back? I . . . can can . . . you . . . turn . . . back?

Nova had only taken a few steps, yet at some point, without realizing it, he was suddenly in front of the castle, clad in deep, cosmic-obsidian stone. It was featureless inside like the furniture didn't matter.
 
"Don't don't think think so so." Nova eyed the black stone. This was exactly what he imagined a castle designed by an edgelord would look like. "Dungeon dungeon put put me me in in front front of of this this castle castle."

But there was nothing really there beyond the castle entrance. Nova cautiously poked his head in.
 
And just as quickly, Nova was standing ten feet away from the front of a doorway somewhere deep inside the Castle. There was... a pungent smell in the air, and suddenly Nova felt fatigued and strange, phantom wounds along his body. The air was oppressive and thick.

And for the first time, the voice in the air was a lot clearer, as if she knew what was coming. It was a whimper.

Please turn back.

Nova stood in the middle of a long hallway, with the door on the other side half-open. The notebook changed: "Serve T̷͍̀ḧ̸͖e̷̝͝ ̸̬̓K̶̯̉ḯ̵̝n̵̰̓g̴̟̅."
 
Nova frowned at the notebook. What the hell was he doing before if not serving the damn king? And the way the text was getting all weird didn't sit right with him.

He had intended on leaving the damn thing in that other building. So this was a good a time as any to decide to not listen to it.

"No," he whispered to the book. Nova placed it on the floor. He backed away from the door, figuring that, at the very least, if he turned his back the dungeon might try something funny on him.
 
Just then, something curious seemed to happen. As Nova stepped back, an echo of a Treecko stepped forward from his shadow, detaching from it. The notebook turned black and floated into the Treecko's hands, becoming part of that same intangible silhouette. It walked toward the door, apprehensive, as six eyes glimmered in the darkness just beyond the door. Shadowy puppet strings forced her limbs forward, and then--

It shut forcefully. Silence followed. Cold, heavy silence.

Nova diverged from this silhouette's decisions -- someone who, perhaps fearing retribution or worse, complied with the notebook's demands. Served, to survive... or perhaps it would have suffered the same fate as those she'd dispatched.

Perhaps had Nova been in that position, he would have been killed, the way the shadows now loomed harmlessly over him like an empty threat. Those phantom wounds he felt were now gone. Perhaps he would not have lasted as long as Mhynt had--but in some ways, could the silhouette, complying with every demand, have given up her "self" long ago? Was this what Mhynt carried with her every time she saw that King?

Those suggestions, thoughts, and regrets loomed in the Dungeon's presence like someone's thoughts bombarding Nova from far away. But just as quickly, that environment, perhaps that illusion, faded entirely.

And Nova was on a regular Dungeon floor once again. Mhynt was nowhere in sight.
 
Nova looked around, crest fanned out and fur standing on end. What had he just seen? What sort of orders involved going inside some dark room and shutting the door?

"Mhynt?" He looked around. Nothing resembled Twilight Quarry anymore. He was back in a cave. "Mhynt, are you there?"

He needed to go down, right? Where was down here? Nova ran forward, still calling out for Mhynt.
 
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No reply came just yet. Perhaps Mhynt was still composing herself. But, just as Nova exited his illusory floor, it seemed that the reverse was just about to take place...

<><><>​
 
Mhynt!

Nova had stopped narrating anything that would sound familiar to her. One simple word was enough to convey his worry for her, though.

... Assuming that really was him. It was tough to tell on this floor. How long had the two been separated for, anyway?

Mhynt's first instinct might have been to try and follow the voice, but it wouldn't do her any good. It was coming from all around her. So, definitely dungeon, right?

... are you? Can you hear... don't... you...

Well, one thing was for certain. Those heavy chains around her limbs? The thick, odorless black tar underfoot? Those weren't there before.

Pristine red chains weighed Mhynt down. Even as they brushed against the tar, it didn't stick to the chains. They practically sparkled in the darkness.
 
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"Ugh--" Mhynt grunted once her balance was knocked off balance from the chains. "What... are these?" But then she recalled what happened before. She had to watch her wording; she had listened to Nova speak to himself--presumably, him--and now... she was... Yes. This was probably the same thing. The Dungeon was toying with them, or... No. What did the rumors say, again...?

Ugh, it was hard to think with the encumbering chains and tar.

"My my turn turn," Mhynt called out. "Red red chains chains familiar to you?"

The first thing she tried, of course, was to cut them. She conjured her Leaf Blade and aimed at the one encumbering her other wrist.
 
CLANG!

The chains were as pristine as ever. Red rubies sparkling with the fading light of her Leaf Blades.

CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG
CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG
CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG
CLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANGCLANG

Her strikes echoed in every direction, until it sounded like someone was striking pipes in the distance.

... What... that...

Almost as soon as the whispers came they suddenly stopped.

Red chains? ... familiar. Don't... me... something... to to...

The tar seemed to stretch out into infinity. It was black all around her. No sign of any clues, either.
 
Mhynt sighed to herself, thinking. She had to play by the illusion's rules for now, so before she went out into the great abyss, she tested a few of her capabilities, starting with basic movement, swings, and of course Teleportation. She tried to conjure her Lunala apparition as well, if only for show, to see just what this illusion allowed and what it didn't.

"Speak speak simply simply," Mhynt said. "The the Dungeon Dungeon is is... unreliable. ...Unreliable," she added again. It was getting tiring, but monotony in the face of adversity was a necessary evil at times.

She also listened to the sound of pipes. It was at least a lead.
 
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