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Chapter 44
🕑 Added 2025-11-10 19:47:40 +0000 UTCChapter day cometh again!
This sequence is pretty fun -mostly rising action from here through the end. I went a little heavier on switching perspectives to show Jason's actions. This is a little easier with the way he compartmentalizes and hides parts of his plans (both in the narrative and with the reader). I borrowed a bit from Hollow here.
Also, please let me know if you notice anything that feels off continuity-wise or proofing-wise. This includes repeating phrases, structures, homonyms, etc. We can add a bit more polish now. I have about a month left to edit and plan to make a complete pass for both final continuity edits and style/proofing. Can't say I love this part of the process lol.
In the meantime, enjoy!
Chapter 44 - Customer Service
“The Farm”
Karen
There they were, her guild facing off against a madman who had trapped them inside this insane “dungeon.” Their futile quest to destroy the dungeon core had been replaced with a more pressing goal: survival. Weapons raised, spells crackling in the air. Their children blissfully unaware of the danger as they played tug-of-war with what appeared to be bat intestines.
“You—you can’t keep us here,” Karen declared, stepping forward, her fingers clenching hard around the hilt of her hammer. “We can just log off.”
Jason cocked his head, smiling knowingly. “Can you now?” he asked, too sweetly. “Are you sure about that, Karen?”
As he spoke, the walls, tables, and chairs all... shuddered. Revealing them for what they were: more minions. His undead swarms masquerading as furniture. She’d seen this before, too— back in that damn alley in Pax. Karen swallowed hard, remembering their previous conversation. Jason’s “idea” to entomb players. If they got close, it was over.
Yet, with a wave of his hand, the movement stopped and the furniture mercifully reformed. “Ahh, don’t worry. I don’t plan to force you to stay. I just wanted to have a little chat.”
The dark orbs of energy that made up Jason’s eyes pivoted to their children. “Besides, there’s no need for threats. After all, your tether won’t work when they’re inside an instance, will it? And they don’t look like they plan to leave…”
The implication hung there—heavy and harsh.
He’d trapped them by holding their children hostage.
Even worse, by feeding them monster parts.
“We were just, uh, exploring—” Karen started, searching for any way out of this situation.
“Ahh, ahh, ahh, no need for lies among friends,” Jason intoned, those dark eyes gleaming as he leaned on that strange cane. He seemed… different, but Karen couldn’t put her finger on what had changed. “I know what you’re here to do. To destroy my dungeon core.”
That creepy smile widened further. “I have a counterproposal.”
The other mothers were looking at her for direction, their question clear: fight or flee? They could still log out. Forcibly eject the kids using their headsets. Maybe wait for an opportunity to log back in while the necromancer was offline or distracted. He had to log out eventually.
Jason seemed to read their minds, his gaze uncannily perceptive.
“I don’t plan to fight,” he offered, spreading his hands wide. “I just have a simple question. Even if you escape this place, what do you have to go back to?”
Karen frowned, and the others hesitated.
“Back in the Crystal Reach, you’re just biding time. You’re little more than slaves,” he continued. “Digging through rubble. Waiting for your children to get bored enough to start a fight with the Nephilim and watch all that hard-earned reputation slip away.”
Karen grimaced. It was like he could read her mind.
“How do you know about that?” she demanded.
That creepy smile was back, a black cat winding between his legs and watching them all with uncanny, unblinking focus. “Your new guild stream. I’m a fan! You have a unique brand, but your marketing could use some work. Unboxing is always popular, but no one wants to watch you go “thrifting” through rubble.”
She kept her face neutral. She’d started the stream after their strategy in Pax had fallen apart—desperate to find a way to keep making money. She didn’t have a choice, she rationalized. She couldn’t go back to being under Dustin’s thumb. However, there were few options in the Crystal Reach where the Nephilim treated them like slaves. And their hellish journey here had just reinforced how out of their depth they were against this brave new world’s monsters.
However, could she really trust Jason?
“Thanks for the feedback,” Karen said with a forced smile. “But there’s no way we’re going to take advice from the man that butchered our guild and trapped us here.”
“In my defense, you did steal from me,” Jason retorted, dark mana flaring along his limbs. The furniture all trembled, and even that skeletal monster at their back shuddered, the rock creaking and dust spilling from the punctures. The mothers took a step back.
Yet the mana vanished as fast as it had appeared.
Jason shrugged. “But I guess you’re all doing so well that you don’t need my help… by the way, how is good ‘ol Dustin doing these days? Still working late?”
Karen froze. She hadn’t told him about her husband. Which meant Jason had been watching her streams. She swallowed hard, glaring back. “What about him?”
“Oh, I was just thinking, wouldn’t it be nice if you were offered another way. Not a one-time payday, but the means to keep making money. True Independence.”
Jason’s tone was too sweet—too innocent. It was like he could read her damn mind. There was definitely something different about him now. She no longer saw a young man pushed to his limits, but a monster wrapped in a robe. That smile was still plastered across his undead face as those piercing eyes shifted to the other mothers.
“And Karen is probably the only one in an unhappy marriage, right?”
Those dark orbs drilled down on Sandra. “Or who needs a kitchen reno?”
She flinched, looking nervous.
Karen’s stomach dropped. Fuck. He must have been listening to their conversation outside the dungeon, too. She didn’t know how that was possible, but where Jason was concerned, she couldn’t put anything past him. He’d clearly done his research.
“I don’t know why you all look so nervous. I’m not even murdering anyone,” Jason offered, waving at his cozy little store, their children all happily munching away. “And, trust me, this place is definitely child-friendly. They’ll fit right in.”
His eyes flared with a demonic glint.
“Besides, what other choice do you really have?”
Damn it. He was right.
The other mothers were looking at her—all of them waiting for her decision.
Karen sighed. “Fine. What exactly do you want us to do?”
Jason’s smile widened just a bit further, an impossible feat for anything made of flesh. “Oh, that’s splendid! But you’re asking the wrong question. The real question is: what can I do for you? You came here for simple dungeon diving. But I offer a true family experience.”
She was about to ask a follow-up question, but never got the chance.
Because Jason snapped his fingers—
And suddenly, a sour-faced woman was standing beside him with a flash of emerald light, a scar running down her cheek, and a look of barely contained exasperation shining in her eyes.
“I’ve told you how much I hate the snapping,” she muttered.
Jason’s smile faltered. “We talked about this. It’s for dramatic effect.”
“And the banners painted in blood?” she shot back.
“Uh... ambiance, obviously,” Jason replied, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.
Karen coughed into her fist. “Uh, who is this?”
She could have sworn she recognized the woman from somewhere, but the memory eluded her. A quick snapshot and a web search turned up nothing. Yet Karen couldn’t shake the sense of déjà vu. Maybe from Pax… somehow?
“Oh, nobody important,” Jason answered quickly. “Just call her Cady. This one is the Captain. They’ll be manning the dungeon and all associated instances.”
Cady looked like she was about to save them the trouble and kill the necromancer, but Karen just frowned. “When you say they…”
“Ahh, right.” Jason snapped his fingers again.
This time, there were multiple flashes of emerald energy, and a Cady was suddenly standing behind every stall. Wearing different clothes. Their hair arranged in various styles. Some with weapons and others with wands. But all of them had the same face.
“These are the Cadys. My helpful slaves—err, I mean employees,” he amended carefully, side-eyeing the Cady beside him. She didn’t look any happier about that.
“They’re here through a very generous inter-temporal visa program,” he explained. “It’s all perfectly legal... as long as we’re inside the dungeon instance.”
What the hell was he talking about? Karen thought to herself.
“Suuuure. But what exactly are you selling?” she asked in confusion.
“I thought you’d never ask! As I’m sure you’re aware, we solved the population problem in Pax using instancing. You and I had a long heart-to-heart about that one,” Jason added, those dead eyes on Karen and the others watching her with suspicion now. Damn it.
“Anyway, that just created a new dilemma,” Jason continued. “Specifically, the travelers have no way to level. The Mile High Club helps improve their skills in combat, but it’s not a true substitute for raw stats. And, of course, others like yourself are still trapped in the former elemental cities. So, our little startup set out to solve that problem!
“We offer several dungeon experience packages, as you can see,” he began, waving at the air—only to notice nothing was there. He nudged Captain Cady beside him, and she reluctantly brought up a glowing green menu with a sigh.
Dungeon Experience Menu
1. “Skeleton Crew” Package: For the bare-bones adventurer. Minimal frills, maximum kills!
2. “Bone Collector” Bundle: Includes a 10-minute head start timer guaranteed to “raise” your level from the dead!
3. “Family Crypt Crawl” (4+ children): Bring the whole family! One complimentary instance reset for each kiddo!
4. “Stream of the Damned” Bundle: Share your bone-chilling exploits with the world and rake in those views!
5. “Grind to Dust Package”: Includes everything from the previous bundles plus a personal guide to help you reap maximum bone-us experience!
“We also offer a generous subscription package for those who want to keep the experience rolling in every week!” Jason announced with a broad smile.
Karen blinked. Blinked again.
Yep, that crazy notice was still hovering there...
What the hell was he talking about? Experience? How was that supposed to work?
Yet before she got a chance to ask those questions, her guildmates interjected—
“Where did you get all of this gear?” Sandra called out. She was suddenly standing by one of the equipment vendors, picking up a sword. “Like what even is this—holy shit,” she exclaimed. “Look at this thing! Oh, and this one!”
She pivoted and showed the item notification.
Sword of the Ancients
Quality: A
Damage: 150-200
Effect: Deals triple damage to undead creatures.
Note: Temporally entangled.
Bow of Plucking
Quality: A
Damage: 350-400
Effect: Causes intense bleeding and mana drain to angelic beings.
Note: Temporally entangled.
“They have dozens of them!” she called out, several guild members rushing over—all while Jason looked on with that same smile.
Karen’s fingers clenched around her hammer, but she refused to drop her weapon, even if the mothers were acting just like their own children. Damn shopaholics. Seriously, Sandra had a problem. Yet the ship had sailed on that, any sense of fragile control slip, slip, slipping away.
How was she supposed to compete with high-level loot and legendary items? The rest of those stalls were filled to the brim with gear and equipment that would have cost a small fortune and many, many lives to obtain. Weapons and armor that gleamed with magical promise. Potions that Karen had never heard of before, including something called Veritas that promised a huge boost to mana and affinities. All of it just sitting on those shelves.
Inside this impossible dungeon.
“What is this place? How did you get all that stuff?” Karen muttered, side-eyeing Jason as she watched the others gawking at the loot. “This shouldn’t be possible, even for you. Are you cheating? Teleporting in equipment from Pax using a waypoint?”
“Not exactly,” Jason replied, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Though I might have used a tiny loophole.” The cat at his heels let out a soft cough, almost like it was choking back a laugh. Karen glared down at the feline suspiciously. “Those items have a complex history. Bottom line? They can only be used inside The Farm. If you try to take them outside the dungeon, well… let’s just say that bad things will happen.”
The Cady at his side snorted. “That’s underselling it. I told you this crazy plan is too dangerous. The others might be okay with the risk, but the effects on the timeline—”
Jason cut her off with a dismissive wave. “It’ll be fine.”
“It most definitely will not,” she shot back. “What happens if a traveler smuggles out the items and intentionally creates a continuity error?”
“Uh, that’s why we’re also selling Veritas, obviously,” he replied smoothly. “It will force the travelers to tell the truth about what they purchased.” As he saw Karen’s confused expression, he clarified—sort of. “A side effect of the potion is truth-telling.
“However, rest assured, we take the safety of our guests very seriously here at The Farm,” Jason replied reassuringly. He pointed at the entrance to the Mausoleum, where another Cady now stood. This one was wearing a sash that said “security.”
“It’s not the customers I’m worried about,” Captain Cady bit out.
While they bickered, Karen was experiencing a strange emotion—a different kind of dawning horror. One she’d only ever experienced in real-world dungeons filled with overpriced food, long lines, and sweaty teenagers in hulking cloth outfits. With a different kind of “boss.” One that could only be defeated by cold, hard cash.
“How much is all of this going to cost?” she asked.
Jason’s smile was back—wide enough to make her flinch. Worse, even Cady was smiling now. Karen hated that even more. It was like looking at a shark in human clothing.
“I thought you’d never ask! We don’t accept such meager, silly stuff as gold here at The Farm. There’s only one currency that matters: mana. Each purchase reserves a small portion of your mana and regeneration rate,” Jason explained helpfully.
“How are we supposed to fight with that handicap...” Karen trailed off as she watched the others already signing contracts for new gear and potions. Weapons that were tailor-made for destroying Nephilim and undead alike. Potions that could enhance their mana and affinities—topping them back off when their much smaller mana pools were depleted.
Ahh, she got it now. This was a different kind of trap.
“You’re wondering if it’s worth it. If the experience will bring you together as a guild and family,” Jason said, his voice smooth as silk at her shoulder. “Trust me, it will.
“In fact, my guess is that you won’t ever want to leave.”
A wave of his bony hand, and that skeletal crab-like creature ripped its limbs free of the doorframe and scuttled away. Leaving the entrance to the Mausoleum open. That shimmering green barrier was the only thing that remained between Karen and freedom.
Yet no one else even noticed.
The kids were engrossed in eating that horrifying dungeon food—they had moved on to some grotesque ice cream now. She resisted a shudder. She definitely didn’t want to know what it was made of, mostly because it still had… pieces in it. The other mothers were worse. They were eagerly haggling away their own mana for legendary items and potions.
Items and potions that were only usable inside this place.
At least, if Jason was to be believed.
And that was the problem. If Jason could deliver on his promise—if he could feed them a constant stream of experience, well... then he might just be right.
Karen might really and truly be trapped here.
Even worse? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
*
Apparently, she felt fine.
Because, thirty minutes later, Karen had sold her soul too.
Captain Cady had somehow talked her into purchasing the “Grind to Dust Package,” which apparently obligated her to stay trapped inside this dungeon for the next week in-game with unlimited instance resets. Between the potions, the gear, the dungeon instance reset coupons, and the little paper bracelet that ensured her admittance to the dungeon, the total cost had risen to 80% of her entire mana pool. She could use her skills twice before drinking a potion.
She also had no idea what the dungeon “guide” would entail, but she was anxious to get away from Jason and those creepy, sour-faced clones. So, she’d quickly taken away the monster parts that Jason was feeding her children despite their loud protests, harassed the other mothers into finishing up their haggling, and then herded everyone down those steps leading into the depths of the mausoleum. It was time to get back to a more “normal” dungeon experience.
However, this... this wasn’t normal. Not at all.
Instead of the cramped corridors she’d expected, Karen found herself standing at the edge of a vast underground cathedral. The chamber stretched so far upward that the ceiling vanished into impenetrable blackness, swallowed by shadows so thick they seemed to writhe with a life of their own. What little light there was came from the occasional flash of lightning through windows high above—just barely peeking out above the dirt topside—and the sickly purple gems embedded in braziers mounted on the walls.
Massive stone pillars twisted upward like the ribcage of some colossal corpse. Crude statues lined the walls in various stages of completion, their unfinished faces emerging from the rough stone like tortured souls clawing their way out of hell itself. A silk-wrapped goddess screamed silently as she was burned alive. A homeless vagrant wept stone tears. A man was buried under what appeared to be poker chips. Clearly, a mocking imitation of this game’s gods.
As though Jason was deliberately spitting in their faces.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” his voice suddenly spoke up from beside her, causing Karen to jump in surprise. How the hell had he followed them—
She turned to see a skeleton sitting beside the stairs jerk to life, shaking its limbs experimentally before heaving itself to its feet. A cane of bone materialized in one hand, the creature leaning heavily against it. Her brow furrowed. That was… new.
Just what had the necromancer done to himself this time?
And if each of these bodies were fake, where was the real one?
Possibly in the same place as that damn dungeon core.
“I’m still working on the finishing touches, but I think the aesthetic is coming along nicely. Merging the floors was a fantastic idea,” Jason offered, as he surveyed his handiwork, the enthusiasm in his voice a stark contrast to the horror show that lay before her.
“How are you here? Why are you here?” she ground out.
That damn smile was back with a vengeance. “Ahh, you told me I couldn’t be in two places at once, remember? Well, I solved that problem. As for your second question, I’m your guide! I like to provide a personal touch. After all, how many dungeon crawlers get to have personal one-on-one time with the boss?”
Karen tried to speak but found her throat dry. She couldn’t even focus on the fact that she’d paid extra for the privilege of Jason torturing them personally. It was this place. It felt... consecrated. But to something that definitely wasn’t holy. The others were similarly affected, their excitement fading into a palpable unease.
“Mommy?” Tommy’s voice was small, uncertain. “Why does this place feel weird?”
“Ahh, because it’s too empty. It’s missing the most important part of any dungeon,” Jason rumbled, his voice echoing ominously through the cavernous room.
As though in response, lightning flashed through the cathedral, illuminating the colossal chamber. Revealing that they weren’t alone—not exactly. That those shadows were indeed alive.
Hundreds... no, thousands of creatures hung from the ceiling. At first, Karen thought they were bats. Maybe undead monsters that Jason had repurposed. Possibly even the source of all those horrifying “snacks” and “smoothies” being sold in the cafeteria above them.
However, as the light faded, the true horror was revealed. Those creatures all opened their eyes. Hundreds of glowing purple orbs stared down at them, filled with uncomfortable intelligence. Like malevolent stars smeared across the night sky.
With a wave of Jason’s hand, they descended. They didn’t make a sound as they dropped from the ceiling, landing with a feline grace along the cathedral floor. Karen felt her heart race as she finally caught sight of them amid the flickering purple light.
Children. Skeletal children. Tiny ivory bodies. Hands and fingers that tapered into razor-sharp claws. Skeletal, bony wings that might have once been covered in thick white feathers. They were nightmares given form. And worse, their presence here implied something more horrible. Jason must have killed them. Her eyes skimmed to their “guide” as he watched that legion of monsters without a trace of guilt. Instead, that was pride shining in his eyes.
At the deaths of children.
At a perfect legion that now stood in neat lines, empty eye sockets glowing with that unholy purple energy. Waiting. Patient. Staring. Like they’d been expecting this moment. Like they were waiting for their deaths. Like they hungered for it... for merciful release.
For a moment—just an instant—Karen could have sworn she saw them wearing Becca and Tommy’s faces. Could remember how doppelgangers of her own children had clutched and clawed at her pants back in that alley in Pax. Just before they’d detonated, killing them all.
Apparently, the others weren’t immune either.
Sandra made a choked sound while the others shifted in discomfort.
But their actual children didn’t hesitate. Where the mothers saw monsters… they saw playmates. They let out whoops of delight and charged forward, laughing as they drew their weapons.
“No, don’t—stop!” Karen began.
“It’s fine,” Jason answered, raising a hand to reassure the mothers.
The kids rushed forward in a blur, sprinting toward their undead counterparts.
The children fought with a ferocity and skill that belied their age, their laughter ringing out like a battle cry as they decapitated and slaughtered the undead while their mothers looked on in shock. The undead creatures just stood there, staring at Karen and the other mothers with uncanny focus as their own children cut them down one by one.
“Something wrong?” Jason asked sweetly. “You seem distressed.”
“Why aren’t they moving?” Karen asked softly.
“Ah, that’s part of your package. It gives you ten minutes of free killing before the undead fight back. This helps maximize the experience gain for under leveled players.”
His tone was clinical, but this thing—this place—was anything but. It was an abomination. It felt corrupt in a way that she couldn’t quite place. Too corporate maybe? Too transactional? AO wasn’t meant to include power leveling. The true horror here wasn’t the implied murder or the blatant price gouging or the macabre fashion sense. It was how Jason had turned organic and story-driven dungeons into farming simulators… with a subscription package.
“Once the timer expires,” Jason continued, “Well, let’s just say it becomes an opportunity to train your skills and farm experience at the same time.”
Karen swallowed, eyeing those hundreds of purple eyes still hanging overhead. Ten minutes until they had to fight that horde? There were so many—too many. And with their mana suppressed, they didn’t have much AOE. Their casters could maybe get off a single spell before they had to use a potion? Almost like this place was designed to milk them for their mana. Like a twisted arcade asking for another damn token.
This was so much worse than Jason simply killing them…
“This place is a nightmare,” Karen said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jason looked at her with curiosity. “Is that so? I would have thought someone with your practical mindset would see the potential.”
A chime echoed through the cathedral, and Tommy’s excited voice called out: “Mommy! I already leveled up! This place is amazing!”
“Ah,” Jason said, tilting his head. “See what I mean? It might seem morally questionable, but this is just another opportunity. You didn’t shy away from blowing up stores, killing innocents, and stealing gear. Is this really any different?”
He was right. She knew that, but...
DING!
x1 Level Up!
She’d already leveled, and judging from the expressions of the other mothers, so had they. Their experience gain was trailing just a hair behind their kiddos.
“Ahh, there’s a small experience bonus given to the player that makes the kill, even though the experience is shared among the group or raid,” Jason explained. “We did extensive testing.”
“We need to get moving,” one mother offered, hefting her weapon. “If we can’t keep up with the kids, they’ll just keep getting further and further ahead.”
“We can barely manage them, as is,” another mother murmured.
They were looking worried, but for a different reason.
“Kids adapt fast,” Jason observed solemnly. Those eyes were staring at Karen again. “What did you tell me before? Just wait, someday they’ll even be strong enough to take me? I wonder how you’ll manage them then? What will you do when your kids overpower you?”
“Is this your real plan?” Karen shot back, her eyes narrowed. “To get even by power leveling our kids while you sit here and heckle us?”
Jason let the silence stretch before continuing, watching the children butcher their tiny little counterparts. “Not at all. I was serious about my offer to have you join me. Believe it or not, I’m trying to help you; to guide you. After all, there’s another way. You could lean into it.”
Karen’s brow furrowed in confusion, and the other mothers murmured in confusion.
“What? What do you mean?” she asked.
That predatory smile was back. “Record them.”
Her eyes went wide, her head already shaking. Was that really who she was? Some vapid influencer mom who exploited her own kids for clicks? That felt different—worse than whatever they’d already done. “No, no that’s not—we can’t stream our kids. That’s...”
“Really?” Jason insisted, his smile gleaming in the darkness, dripping with corruption. “Because that’s the way to manage your children. Keep them distracted with loot and levels. Drip feed them food, loot, and gear. All while creating a sustainable fanbase and a constant stream of income. You can pitch it as ‘modern parenting.’ ‘Home schooling done right.’ ‘Bonding with your kids in a digital age.’ Hell, even your guild name is perfect.
“<Arts and Crafts>? That’s a gold mine.”
He laughed, a chilling dark thing that echoed off the walls.
“Like I said before, you just need better marketing.”
The others were already wavering under the weight of his logic. Karen could see it.
“I mean… is it really so different than having them steal from those shops?” one asked.
“And we could really use the cash.”
“If we use multiple cameras, we could get different angles.”
“Maybe even pit the kids against each other to create some drama. Tina and Becca are already super competitive. We could just record it,” another offered.
“We could even put some of the money aside for the kids’ college.”
“They could also do the farming for us—burn off some energy. They could power level us! And if we decided to go back to mercenary work, we’d be much stronger.”
Jason didn’t need to say anything; he didn’t need to do anything. Just wait. Watch. Listen. He was waging war without ever lifting a finger. Convincing an entire guild to give up on the quest they’d been given to destroy this place and instead embrace it. Easy loot and levels. A constant flow of money. The power to survive.
This was an entirely different sort of boss fight, Karen realized.
And he was winning.
After all, he’d already struck the killing blow: what choice did they really have?
Dustin was still useless. The game was changing, evolving, and their old strategies didn’t work anymore. They needed something sustainable.
Jason seemed to sense her weakness. “I could sweeten the pot. How about exclusive streaming rights for the first week? All this juicy XP. Those sparkly items you’re all wearing. It’s the perfect content,” he purred, that black cat winding between his feet again.
Karen’s eyes narrowed. Ah, so that was the game then. He needed them to promote his dungeon and whatever crazy, insane plan he’d concocted for this place. That made sense. And yet... that just made his offer more tantalizing.
Because those streams would explode once she posted online. Especially with all the hype from that recent boss appearance in Pax. If they started slow, they could milk it for even longer. And once the travelers realized this place was associated with Jason, traffic was only bound to grow. They could make instructional videos. Showcase the best gear and equipment. The perfect subscription packages for new adventurers. He was offering an opportunity.
Around her, the other mothers were waiting; watching; calculating. They were all doing the same math as Karen: survival trumped ethics. Also, possibly a kitchen reno.
And, after all, it was just a game, right? Right?
At least, that’s what she told herself as her camera orb flickered to life and <Arts and Crafts> went live for the first time inside the Farm. Then the others charged in. Not to join in the combat, but to help coordinate the footage. To improve the lighting with a few well-placed fireballs. Add some smoke with a water-based mist spell. This cathedral also had fantastic acoustics… which almost seemed intentional.
They became so involved in the performance that they missed the two figures standing in the shadows beneath those unfinished statutes of the gods. Jason, leaning on his cane, and that strange cat sitting at his heels, both of them watching with ancient, knowing eyes at a group of women who had been transformed. From enemies to customers… to accomplices.
After all, a real boss knew how to manage people.
