—— ? ——

  The wailing guitar notes bounced and echoed down the tunnel. Each wave of sound hissed and dragged through the air. Sound itself seemed insulted to be arranged in such a fashion, the notes seeming to fade faster than normal notes as if the music wanted to escape reality itself.

  Accompanying those notes was the discordant sound that could hardly be called singing. It was more a hymn to dark gods in realms unknown. A call to the profane to enter reality and join the horror that was this performance.

  Two beings clutched each other in a hug. One born not from love or affection, but survival. They clung, attempting to shield themselves from the hellish performance.

  Across from them, the performer stood grinning.

  Simon was honestly surprised. He had been worried he wasn’t going to be able to recreate one of AC/DC’s songs, but luckily that hadn’t been the case. Sure, it had taken dozens of summonings of his skill to get a guitar. He had been hoping to resume that black, red and silver one but, alas, luck was not on his side.

  He had been able to summon a dark green electric guitar. It was at that point that Simon realized an issue he had never thought about. The skill didn’t summon an amp or speaker!

  To his absolute delight, it turned out magical bullshit was on his side. When he tentatively strummed the guitar it let out a thunderous sound. As if it was hooked into invisible concert speakers.

  Simon had to give Melodian a single nod. His endless torture and time spent in that shit realm had given Simon the ability to recreate notes and songs on a technical level.

  So, Simon had turned to his two waiting audience members, Kurda and Ryne, given a nod, then launched into his recreation of Thunderstruck. He watched as the two’s face went still from his riveting performance.

  Yeah, that’s how I felt when I first heard it too. Simon had nodded to himself, then switched his focus back to his fingers.

  He had nearly missed a note there. That would have ruined the song!

  The words of his all time favorite song leapt into his mind. Simon glanced up and saw the pair were still transfixed by the music.

  What the hell.

  Simon launched into his best recollection of the lyrics, his voice echoing over the thunderous sound of the guitar.

  He just needed a drummer.

  Simon closed his eyes, words belting from his mouth as he bridged from one section of the song to next. He hated to admit it, but it was honestly a little fun. He bobbed his head as the song continued.

  If only Melodian could see him now. He had never attempted this song in that training realm. How could he, a mere mortal, approach the threshold of the true gods of music AC/DC? But with all the involuntary training he got under Melodian, he actually felt he was doing a decent job covering the song.

  Maybe he could get Melodian to lift his curse if he played him this song? Ideas drifted through his mind as he brought the Thunderstruck to its crescendo and end.

  The last notes charged out into the world, blessing it with the recreation of AC/DC’s masterpiece.

  Simon opened his eyes then wiped the sweat from his forehead. He took a peek at his adoring audience.

  Kurda and Ryne stood still, arms wrapped around each other. When had they embraced? Was his song that powerful to make them feel so overwhelmed they had to share the moment with another being?

  Ryne slowly pulled away from Kurda, her legs shaky beneath her. Kurda reached back and held her shoulder, a look of concern.

  Wow. I know people say rockstars make people weak at the knees, but I never knew it could be like this.

  “Well?” Simon asked, face bright. “What do you think? Did you like it?”

  “Oh…” Ryne replied, her voice faint and weak. “It… it… was interesting.”

  Simon nodded slowly. She was overcome by the power of the song.

  “Er’ Simon?” Kurda said.

  “Yeah, Kurda?”

  “When yer’ said you could play a song to help people work. I didn’t realize yer’ meant yer’ were going to use it to torture them.” He replied wide eyed.

  “What?” Simon exclaimed.

  “What der’ yer’ mean, ‘what?’” Kurda snapped back. “That der’ song will slap both yer’ eyes into one. I guess yer’ could tell the crew that if they didn’t work yer’ were going to make them listen to it. That was horrifying!!!”

  Simon’s face fell. Oh.

  “No. No. Yer’ don’t get to have some puppy eyed sadness on yer’ face. Yer’ arse hole. Yer’ closed yer’ eyes and held us here with yer’ dark musical magic. We tried to signal yer’ but you just kept playing.”

  Kurda and Ryne both shivered. “Tell him Ryne!”

  Simon looked up at the celestial, her soft features giving him hope. She hesitated, but then her face twisted in disgust.

  “Kurda’s right! In all the lights, Simon, I didn’t know someone could twist melody in such a way.” Her face softened, and tears started to well up in her amber eyes. She continued, softer. “Why didn’t you open your eyes? Why did you ignore our suffering? It was so cruel.”

  Tears streamed down her face, her frame shuddering.

  Kurda shook slightly as well, his skin prickled like goose flesh. “I’m sorry, Simon. But if yer’ just walked into a tavern and played that I don’t know if yer’ would make it out alive. Or maybe the others wouldn’t make it out alive. Bit of a toss up there.”

  Simon bit his lip, feeling a bit sad. At the same time, he wasn’t sure exactly what he expected. He had made the god of bards go mad after all. It was kind of funny actually.

  That thought sent a grin to his face, his hand idly flicking a string. Kurda and Ryne took a step back, their faces white as sheets.

  “By every ray and beam.” Ryne gasped, her voice tinkling like shattered glass.

  Kurda gulped. “My people say yer’ should always be careful when you delve into the depths. The old stone-breakers would tell stories of finding chasms into the black. They warned if yer’ ever find one of those to never look down and to seal yer’ tunnel. One old one said he decided to look anyway.” Kurda shivered, his eyes darting between Simon’s face and his finger on the string. “As he stared into the black, something caught his eye. White teeth in the black. A twisted grinning visage. A depth walker’s smile.”

  He pointed at Simon. “Now I know how he felt.”

  Simon met Kurda’s gaze, his mouth still cracked. He chuckled. “So I take it you don’t want to hear their other song. Highway to Hell.”

  “NO!” Kurda and Ryne screamed in unison.

  Simon doubled over in laughter.

  —— ? ——

  Simon was still chuckling at the memory when he got back to Ember Rest. He was exhausted from the day and merely nodded at Cyrus before heading to his room.

  He passed out. The next day he woke early, his body sore from the last day’s work. But he dragged himself out of bed and hurriedly ate a bowl of something like oatmeal at the bartop.

  Cyrus had just nodded at him, reading the silent mood. That man was stupidly good at his job.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Simon had returned to the mine, excited to keep working on his body's control. When he had approached Kurda, the man had eyed him warily, scanning him for an instrument.

  After confirming Simon was weaponless, the man grunted and gestured for him to follow. The day went like before. Kurda would cut the stone and pile it for Simon. Simon would move it to the carts.

  Once the carts were full, Kurda would stop his work and come help Simon push them to the entrance. Simon had been wondering how they were going to get the stone out of the tunnel, but he should have guessed.

  Magical bullshit.

  Kurda pulled at part of the cart and extended a Aethra crystal topped rod from its body. The big man’s hands glowed as mana flowed into the magical construct. Once the gem glowed bright, they had both pushed on the cart. The wheels turned easily, the cart lurching up the tunnel.

  It still required effort, but was nowhere near how hard it should have been.

  Simon had asked about it but just got a shrug from Kurda.

  “Go ask Brian or another inventor. When we started der’ tunnel we asked them to figure something out. They did.”

  With that, they went back to pushing.

  They brought the stone to the entrance and met a waiting group of all races. While the miners tunnel workers were following Maelis's excursion to find mystery metal, others hadn’t joined him. Most were builders, content to continue to build the gate house and second wall of Varnholt.

  Apparently they were just happy to have a continual supply of material. Although, Simon noticed that none would step foot in the tunnel. As if there was a magical social barrier blocking them from entering.

  But the minute Simon and Kurda passed the tunnel's threshold, they would swarm the cart. Stone was transferred onto smaller ones and pulled to various sites in the valley.

  Simon and Kurda worked through the morning, stopped briefly to eat a delicious mid-morning meal of—you guessed it—nutrient bars.

  There was something almost meditative about the whole process. For the first time since the integration started, Simon had a clear goal and a way to accomplish it.

  He took to it with gusto, putting as much effort as he could. While he moved the stone, Kurda would bark out suggestions to him. Kurda had been moving stone his entire life, and for him, utilizing your body carefully was essential. One misstep, one bad lift, could result in a sprain or worse. Kurda told him stories of miners he had worked with. Deaths in the mine occurred more often when simply moving stone than any other time.

  While Simon had thought he was good at moving his body, this experience with Kurda proved that to be a lie.

  At one point, Kurda stomped over and then had Simon take step after step as he adjusted his posture with his chisel, which he wielded like a baton.

  “Bah yer’ thinkin’ too much, and not enough at all. Yer’ just need to focus on the weight. Let the pressure flow from one muscle to the next. Yer’ not just moving it, yer’ moving it with yourself. Yer’ and the stone are one and the same.” Kurda whacked Simon’s shoulder. “Right here. Why ain’t this muscle contractin’ hmmm? Yer’ are a fast learner starfall, but yer’ need to realize yer’ shit at the same time.”

  Simon was annoyed, heat rising to his face. But it’s hard to be pissed when you’re carrying hundreds of pounds of rock. He breathed and just focused on listening. Simon couldn’t deny the effectiveness of what Kurda said. With each ‘session’ of instructions, the stone felt lighter and lighter.

  Simon would have almost been convinced that the rock they were pulling from the wall was different. But every time they went topside with a cart, he saw the stone looked almost identical to the piles outside.

  The second day helping Kurda flew by, and before he even realized it it was over. Ryne came down the tunnel and said it was time to stop for the day. Kurda and Him put up tools, ate yet another bar of nutrient chalk, and said goodbye.

  When Simon walked through the door at the Ember Rest Inn, he was practically ambushed. Kaelalin, Zerathis and Brian met him at the door.

  That was the part that was most surprising. All three of them were waiting there. Zerathis had finished his transformation and gained a new race, complete with the ability to fly.

  The flying eight-ball shared the prompt that he gained when he awoke in the system hub.

  —— SYSTEM NOTICE ——

  > YOUR RACE HAS BEEN CHANGED

  > Previous: Ego Construct - ( Serraki - Deceased )

  > New: Forged-Soul Serraki

  >> Description: Your soul endured past the death of your world, fused to a fragment of purified metal and confined to a fading echo. As this occurred through your own efforts and before integration, a new classification has been created. Your consciousness now anchors a stabilized aethra core, granting autonomy, mobility, and the capacity for growth. As the first of your kind you have been granted traits that other Forged-Souls must acquire through other means.

  > Gained Traits:

  > Aethral Flight - ( Rare )

  > Description: You may channel your soul to freely hover and fly, resisting local forces that would otherwise keep you immobile.

  > Tower Archivist - ( Unique )

  > Description: Perfect recall of all information read and understood by you during your stay in the Tower of Stabilization. This information is a part of you and cannot be forgotten, removed or otherwise tampered with.

  ——————————

  The excited Zerathis buzzed around Simon as he read.

  “Well damn, dude.” Simon said, finishing the prompt. “That’s pretty damn cool.”

  “Isn’t it!” Zerathis chimed, zipping through the air. The glowing ball of metal with its runic rings was like a drone from earth.

  “The ability to fly is amazing, but… but…” Zerathis’s voice crackled. “All of my memories from the tower, its as if the books and knowledge I gained sits in my mind now. I can open them, feel their pages, and instantly remember anything about them. Its amazing!”

  Simon grinned at the floating construct. Good for him.

  “Yes, but it would have been nice if it explained how your flight ability worked.” Brian grumbled, adjusting his glasses as he frowned at the construct.

  “Oh come on Brian, You'll figure it out.” Kaelalin said, playfully batting his shoulder.

  “Maybe. It still doesn’t make sense. He just flies because he wants to. There's no magic inscription. No fundamentals behind it. He just does.” Brian continued his grumbling.

  Simon shook his head at the inventor. He moved to the bar and ate a quick bowl of stew. No meat this time, just vegetables but it beat the chalky bars he lived on now.

  To his side the three nerds were deep in conversation about the mechanics behind Zerathis’s flight. Simon was going to interrupt and join in, but he was damn tired. He could chat with them later.

  He pushed away his chair and exchanged a nod with Cyrus. Simon made his way around his friends and started toward the stairs.

  “Oh hey, Simon.” Brian called after him. Simon sighed then turned and walked back.

  “What's up,” Simon yawned. “I’ll say this now, I’m about ready to pass out.”

  "I’ll make it quick." Brian said, "Main news is that the Council will be having discussions about exploring the other sub-realms."

  "Really?" Simon said, struck with yet another yawn. This really was something he was interested in, but it was hard to keep his eyes open. " When are they planning on doing that?"

  Brian gave them an apologetic grimace. "Ah, well, they said that it might be about a week or more. It's kind of getting put on the back burner."

  Simon shrugged. “Figures. I'm not too worried about it. I'm decently busy right now with helping Kurda."

  "How is that going?" Kaelalin asked. "We haven't seen you in two days."

  Simon raised an eyebrow. "You haven't seen me? How long have you guys been hiding in Brian's lab? No way Zerathis’s transformation just finished. Y’all are going back and forth about his ability like you already spent days studying it."

  Kaelalin looked sheepish. "Point taken. But, how is it?"

  Simon grinned at her, yawning for the third time. "It's good. I'm actually learning a lot from Kurda. And it's nice to just do something where I can just put my body to use. It's nice to do something productive that doesn't require widespread death and murder."

  “Isn’t that your specialty ?” Kaelain asked innocently.

  “I too, thought that is what you are known for.” Zerathis added, his runic ring spinning.

  “Har har.” Simon replied, giving them the stink eye. “I may have been thrown into the life of bunny murder, but I didn’t choose it. Honestly, it's just nice to pick up heavy things, and put down heavy things. That’s pretty much all I do now.”

  Brian looked horrified. "And you don't get bored? That sounds awful!"

  “Brian I’m not like you guys.” Simon said with a smile. “I don't want to figure out fancy theories or figure out the questions of the universe. I just want to survive, do some work, and live my life. Working the tunnel is just that. It's nice.”

  He looked at each of the trio in turn, flashing a big grin. "Now that being said, do let me know if they decide to go into a subrealm. Someone's got to keep your asses safe."

  “Of course. I certainly don’t want to create a path of destruction.” Brian replied, then grinned at Kaelalin.

  “Kaelain on the other hand–” The Frost-kin socked his shoulder. “--shares my view on violence?” he finished, rubbing his shoulder.

  Kaelalin rolled her eyes. “Just because I know how to make mines and other explosives doesn’t mean I crave to use them.” She paused. “Although, testing my newest device might be fun…”

  Brian gave Simon a meaning filled look.

  Simon just shook his head. “Yeah, maybe test it before we have to use it in a sub-realm. Never know when it will be life and death.” He nodded to them. “But, I’m going to go to bed. I have big chunks of rocks to dream about.”

  They waved as he headed for the stairs. He had taken a few steps when a thought occurred to him.

  “Hey, Zerathis!” he called out.

  “Yes Simon?” Zerathis replied, flying across the tavern towards Simon.

  “Did you end up getting the reward for stabilizing the dungeon?”

  Zerathis seemed to lose some of his glow. “Sadly I was considered a ‘reward’ when the quest was on going, so no.”

  “Damn. Stingy system.” Simon harrumphed. “That’s alright, We’ll be sure to drag you along for the next one.”

  Zerathis bobbed in the air then flew back toward Brian and Kaelalin.

  Simon made his way upstairs then into his room.

  Exhaustion overtook him and he was out like a light.

  —— ? ——