da3strikes
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Chapter 37
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 17:35:01 +0000 UTCAnother day, another chapter!
Also, I am getting SO CLOSE to being content complete. I just keep making it a bit longer lol.
In the meantime, enjoy another Alex chapter! I have to admit, he's growing on me...
Chapter 37 - Interrogation
Crystal Reach – Two Days Later
Alex
Alex hadn’t witnessed the Crystal Reach since the Reckoning.
Of course, he’d caught glimpses of the city’s transformation in fragmented live streams and fleeting images; had heard the horrors whispered in hushed voices from those who had witnessed its rebirth—that had been trapped here when the world suddenly changed.
Yet none of that had prepared him for the reality.
The Crystal Reach he’d known was gone, his former city just a pale imitation of what had been built atop its remains. It was now a sprawling metropolis. The city stretched far beyond its original limits, expanding both across the land and up into the skies. Floating islands hovered above the city, shimmering in the sunlight, each adorned with golden towers and crystalline structures that reflected and refracted the light in dazzling, shifting patterns.
From his vantage point atop one of those floating islands—the Nephilim military headquarters—Alex could see it all. The latent potential behind the city he’d once ruled.
Its streets and skies pulsed with activity, Nephilim soaring through the air, their wings casting shadows over the roads below. The travelers who had once roamed freely were now an afterthought, pushed to the fringes, reduced to scavengers. He could see them below, digging through the rubble—wreckage from Jason’s attack in the past. The destruction was undeniable. When the Vault fell, it hadn’t just crushed buildings. It had left scars, both in the city’s foundations and in the expressions of those forced to sift through its remains.
The travelers had been forced to accept hopeless, pointless quests for meager rewards. They had become this world’s new indentured servants. Trying to buy their way out of digital slavery.
An impossible, futile task. No wonder they were so bitter—
“Come. The General is expecting you,” a voice behind him snapped.
Alex turned to find the Nephilim patrol captain—the same one who had escorted him from the village. His tone was clipped, his expression unreadable. Alex gave one last glance at the city before following the captain into the heart of the compound.
The military headquarters was nothing short of imposing. Crystalline spires intertwined with veins of gold rose into the sky, their polished surfaces glowing faintly in the afternoon light. The entrance was carved into the base of the largest tower, flanked by two massive statues of armored Nephilim warriors. But what caught Alex’s attention was the stonework—the intricate carvings lining the walls. They told a story.
They depicted the Empress standing tall among kneeling figures, her people supplicating themselves before the Lady of Light. The goddess offered her hands in blessing to her chosen people, raising them up. Celestial warriors ascending until they conquered the sky itself.
“So, you invented propaganda in this world,” Alex muttered under his breath.
Low enough that the patrol captain missed his words over the din of the compound, but loud enough that Alex’s invisible companion heard him. The Lady herself.
A goddess of light forced to become his shadow.
Her lips twisted into a grimace. “You’ve been spending too long with that undead freak—you’ve even adopted his penchant for deflection. Despite the ring’s influence, I can sense your anxiety and fear. The real question is whether they buy your story,” she hissed, her eyes flaring.
Alex’s fingers froze where they spun that plain ring anxiously. She wasn’t wrong—not exactly. He knew this next part would be difficult. His greatest challenge yet. A test of his newfound Authority. However, the Lady only lashed out when she felt threatened.
So, he just smiled, which only irked her more.
Maybe Jason had the right idea—
Not that Alex was ever going to admit that out loud.
Inside, the headquarters was just as grand, though the opulence was layered with a rigid, military precision. The halls were lined with banners and glowing runes. Nephilim soldiers moved with purpose, some fastening their armor, others gathered around floating maps, discussing troop movements and battle formations. The air was thick with tension.
The effect of Jason’s ruse was obvious.
The Nephilim were preparing for war – just as they’d hoped.
Alex barely had time to take in those details before they arrived.
“You will wait here,” the patrol captain said, motioning to a nearby doorway. Without another word, he walked away, leaving Alex standing before a heavy, reinforced door.
The guards outside wasted no time with pleasantries.
One of them shoved the door open, motioning inside. “Sit.”
Alex entered what was unmistakably an interrogation room. Stark stone walls, a single crystalline light casting an unforgiving glow, a sturdy table bolted to the floor, and two chairs. The air was still, unnaturally so, as if the room itself was listening.
He sat, exhaling slowly, willing his heartbeat to steady.
Minutes passed. Then the door opened.
The Nephilim who entered was taller than most, his presence commanding. His armor was a deeper shade of gold, etched with symbols Alex didn’t recognize. Unlike the soldiers outside, he carried no visible weapons. Instead, authority radiated from him with every measured step.
He sat across from Alex, placing a crystalline artifact on the table between them. The depths of that gem glowed with an unnatural light. Its surface wasn’t crude and milky like most of the crystals the Nephilim used—second-hand materials harvested from their trees. It was pristine. Like exquisitely cut glass, the light radiated from within the gemstone.
“I understand that your name is… Alec.” The General’s voice was even, but heavy with scrutiny. “You may call me General Cassiel.”
Alex inclined his head slightly. “May the Lady’s light bless you.”
The words were undercut as she scoffed, the goddess herself perched on the table nearby. Invisible even to this general, apparently. “That’s cute that you think your silly little ruse will hold up here, in this place. With that crystal,” she sneered, her eyes shining.
Alex didn’t react—he couldn’t react. Not right now.
Cassiel didn’t acknowledge the remark either, blissfully unaware of the goddess. Instead, he motioned toward the crystal. “Place your hand upon the gem,” he ordered curtly.
Alex obeyed, pressing his palm to the cool surface. Cassiel did the same, and the crystal pulsed with a soft light, warmth radiating outward. A strange, controlled pressure settled against Alex’s mind—like Authority, but subtly different. More honed; more refined.
“You were brought here from one of our villages,” Cassiel continued. “The patrol captain reported there was an attack. Explain what happened.”
His intent was obvious. Real-world militaries performed debriefings, and, apparently, so did the Nephilim. They needed to compare his story, especially given the risk at stake. Alex had mentally rehearsed during the journey—visualizing this conversation over and over again. Different faces, different circumstances, of course, but always the same battle of wills.
“I lived there. It was my home.” The words were simple and plainly spoken, but the subtext told another story. The choppy voice—one that tried to restrain the emotion bubbling beneath. The horror of seeing his people slain and then raised as undead terrors.
“Oh, good lord. Do you really think he will buy these theatrics?” the Lady demanded.
Alex didn’t react, just ignored her and pressed on.
“The Keeper infiltrated the village. He poisoned the Nephilim children, corrupted their bodies, then we thought he’d left, but…” Alex recited his script. He leaned into the pain—into this character he was playing—until the line between them began to thin.
Until he believed that story with every fiber of his being.
Cassiel’s gaze sharpened. The crystal flared. Alex felt that pulse of light mana pushing against his thoughts, searching for weakness, but he stood firm. His own mana throbbed through his veins, pushing back at that foreign power. Keeping his fragile new identity stable.
The Lady’s triumphant gaze softened, her lips slumping into a frown.
“The captain’s report was thorough. His observations support your story. The remnants of dark mana he detected, for example,” Cassiel declared. “And the dungeon itself—those… things taking the form of our young.” He shook his head. “That’s hard to refute, except…
Those piercing eyes lifted back to Alex’s face. “During my centuries walking in the light, I have seen those horrors myself. It is a scene you never forget. I am surprised you were eager to report on your village’s destruction.”
Not quite a question. Alex saw the suspicion shining in his eyes, the implicit question—if the massacre had been so traumatizing, then why would he offer to relive it?
“Because he helped kill them all!” the Lady shouted into Cassiel’s ear.
She was clearly growing frustrated.
Alex swallowed hard. This next part was his least favorite.
However, as Jason would say, it was a necessary evil.
He hung his head. “I—I am ashamed to admit it, but when the undead came, I didn’t try to fight; to defend my brothers and sisters in the light. Instead… I ran. Like a coward.”
The words cost him, the Lady breathing out a disgusted sigh.
Yet it wasn’t her approval Alex was looking for. Cassiel studied him for a long moment, then shifted the conversation, asking pointed questions about the creatures. Their numbers. Their movements. Alex answered carefully, keeping his story as close to the truth as possible. Worse, he began to notice his interrogator using certain phrases. Some were obvious. Like “loot” or “quests.” However, others were more subtle, idioms from their world. Common expressions any traveler would know, but would sound foreign to the residents of this world.
A conversation filled with more traps than any dungeon.
As he navigated those pitfalls, the Lady’s expression kept darkening, the tap, tap, tap of her foot quickened. It took focus and concentration to answer Cassiel’s questions while pushing back at the insistent power of the crystal. And as the questions became more precise—more targeted—he felt the crystal’s power increase, the pressure tightening.
Then, the real test came: sudden, unexpected, and direct.
“Are you a traveler, Alec?” Cassiel asked with imperious authority.
Alex froze as the crystal flared brightly. The air around him crackled with a static charge, shimmering with unseen power. The force against his mind surged, stronger than before. It felt cold, invasive—controlling. Like a hand gripping the back of his neck, forcing him to kneel.
For just a moment, the world stuttered around him—
And it was suddenly George’s face that stared back, not Cassel’s.
His pulse spiked. His mind flailed at the impossibility.
He blinked—and it was gone.
He was facing the angelic general again.
Yet that instant had been enough to undermine his attention—his confidence. There were too many haunting similarities. The way Cassiel’s gaze bore into him, unflinching and expectant. The dismissive certainty that he would break, that his resistance was pointless.
George had always seen through him. Always known when he was lying. And he had always made Alex pay for it. He should just give in; give up. Accept his weakness.
Not a lie—no longer a façade—but part of who he was. A failure.
Alex’s lips parted. The words almost slipped free—
No. No, no, no!
Some long-buried part of him raged against that submission. Those memories also came tangled with emotion, a deep-seated anger bordering on helpless rage. The same fury that had resulted in the senseless destruction of his own bedroom. An act of desperation, Alex trying to flee his fate; to find some sense of relief.
Except this time, he didn’t run. He embraced it.
It was all about visualizing his own power—that was at the heart of his Authority.
And anger was also a tool, a way to wield confidence without hesitation, without doubt. So, he seized that rage coiling in his chest. He focused it, honing and refining until it forged a blade of living light in his mind’s eye; a sword composed of righteous fury. A sword that could cut through anything—even his own fear and self-doubt.
Or the ominous pressure of Cassiel’s own Authority, fueled by and powered by the crystal flickering and flashing on the table. Alex visualized his new weapon slicing through that energy, the crystal’s light flared bright, and the air around him crackled like electricity. His mind cleared and the pressure lessened—just enough to give him a foothold.
His mission. Jason. The dungeon. Focus.
He wasn’t Alex. The Lady’s expression meant nothing.
This wasn’t his fucking father.
He was Alec. A Nephilim. A survivor—the last survivor. Weak. Worthless. Discarded. A coward carrying a lifetime of helpless rage.
And how fucking dare Cassiel challenge that?
His fingers clenched against the crystal.
“No, of course not!” he snapped finally.
The words came out sharp, almost scathing. Anger bled into his tone, his outrage unmistakable. There was no longer any line between himself and this new identity; this Nephilim man who had been so cruelly punished. The idea that he, whose family had been slaughtered, whose home had been defiled, could be mistaken for a Traveler—it was insulting.
The crystal flared in the face of his rage, a single bright flash—followed by a CRACK of splintering stone. Then the light winked out entirely.
Leaving Alex sitting there, his chest heaving, sweat beading on his skin. His mind still filled with that rage—with the cognitive dissonance between his own identity and the one he’d assumed. Two lives so different and yet so similar.
Which is why it took a moment for him to see it—
The crystal’s light hadn’t just faded; the surface had fractured.
Cassiel inspected the damage, a faint note of surprise etched across his implacable features before he mustered himself. He slowly withdrew his hand from the crystal.
“Impressive,” he murmured. “To break the stone with such a pitiful level…”
Even the Lady looked stunned—for once at a loss for words.
Then the general’s glowing eyes rose to meet Alex’s. The suspicion had fled from his gaze. His shoulders relaxed, and a breath of tension escaped his lips.
“My apologies for the interrogation. Normally, I would not press a victim like this—one of our own. However, in these trying times, we cannot be too careful. I needed to ascertain whether you were a traveler in disguise. The patrol captain expressed doubts about your story. He found it unusual that someone so weak could survive where others had fallen.”
Cassiel’s gaze shifted back to the crystal. “Yet with a will like yours, there is no mystery.”
Alex grimaced at that word again—at his own weakness pointed out to him again and again. Yet this time, the blow landed softer, lacking the same force. “I—I understand. I would not deign to challenge the Empress's wisdom or judgment,” he answered humbly, head bowed.
“The truth is that I’m ashamed I survived,” he muttered.
“Oh, good lord…” the goddess muttered, throwing up her hands.
“No, you were wise to flee. You stood no chance against a Keeper, much less one that had already created a new horde.” Cassiel sighed. “Even if you had the power, fighting against your own people—against enemies that wear their faces and use their voices—is no easy task. I suspect there will be few volunteers to contain this dungeon, even if we were not already mobilizing to address this new threat from the Twilight Throne.”
Alex held himself still. A perfect opportunity had presented itself.
And now that the crystal was destroyed, he could let a trickle of his own Authority leak out—just enough to give a faint sparkle to the air. After that desperate tug-of-war with the crystal, he found it responded much more easily to his command.
“I understand their reaction,” Alex answered softly, then tilted his head as though considering something. “However, what if—”
He shook his head. “No, it is not my place to make suggestions.”
Cassiel’s eyes narrowed, Alex’s Authority working on his curiosity—the mystery of a man capable of breaking that crystal. “Continue. I’d hear your words before judging their merit.”
Alex swallowed. “The travelers’ numbers have swelled, and they represent a danger with the coming war. What if—what if you sent them to contain the dungeon?”
A simple question that he left hanging there like bait.
Alex resisted the urge to elaborate; to push. He needed to be delicate.
Cassiel scoffed. “Those weaklings? They couldn’t handle a grass hare, much less a full dungeon. They would be like lambs to the slaughter.”
“Perhaps… but would that be such a bad thing?”
Another innocent question. Let him draw his own conclusion.
The general tilted his head, considering. The sudden light of inspiration shone behind his eyes. “Hmm, I see your point. They are immortal. Many in number, yet still weak. Their so-called “respawn point” is also bound to the city. If we sent them to conquer the dungeon, that would keep them busy. They would die, respawn, only to try again.”
He bit out a harsh laugh. “If we dangled one of these quests before them, they would all jump at the chance like acolytes chasing sweets. An interesting idea.
“You fucking idiot! He’s lying to you!” the Lady screamed.
A surge of triumph welled in Alex’s chest—the goddess’ rant more validating than any applause—but he suppressed it. He was so close. Too close to give up the game. “I could help; I could recruit them for you,” he offered gently. “Your soldiers seem busy, and you are right. I am weak. Yet I—I still want to be of service. To redeem myself in the Lady’s light.”
He let a blush of shame redden his cheeks, hanging his head.
With practice, the feigned weakness came easier and easier, the cost less difficult to bear.
A moment of painstaking silence and then—
“I understand. And I will permit you your redemption.”
Alex’s eyes flicked up to meet the general’s, only for Cassiel to raise a finger. “With the caveat that once you have recruited these travelers, you must join our troops facing the undead on the eastern border,” he added somberly.
Shit. That wasn’t part of the plan.
“With my level and skills, I fear I would only be a hindrance,” Alex pushed back gently, his shoulders slumped, willing himself to look smaller, his mana permeating the air more strongly.
Unfortunately, there seemed to be a limit to his persuasion.
At least, not without giving away the game. He couldn’t press any harder.
“Perhaps, but our numbers are diminished in the aftermath of the Reckoning,” Cassiel responded. “The Keeper who invaded the Vault killed many of our kind. Hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers lost their lives. And while your use in combat may be limited, there is always room for intelligence. Creativity and resolve win battles, not just swords.”
A backhanded compliment, but Alex would take it. Cassiel’s argument also left little room for maneuvering. He’d neatly boxed him in. Oh, well—
He bowed his head. “As the Empress wills.”
“Perfect. We leave in three days, so you must recruit the travelers before then.”
Notifications bloomed in Alex’s vision at those words.
Quest Complete: Persuade the Nephilim
Objective: Convince the Nephilim to send travelers to the dungeon.
Rewards:
+500 Reputation with the Crystal Reach
+5 Light Affinity
+10,000 Experience
New Quest: Dungeon Diving & Dying
Objective: Convince the travelers to take on the dungeon and destroy its core, reducing the population within the Crystal Reach. Rewards are relative to your recruitment efforts. You may offer gold—the fools still believe it’s precious—and city reputation. The rewards offered to the travelers will scale with the dungeon’s difficulty and size.
The recruitment quest is shareable, and your rewards will increase based on how many travelers ultimately take up this quest.
Victory Condition: Recruit at least 100 willing travelers.
Failure Condition: The dungeon remains unchecked for too long.
Time Limit: Three days.
Rewards:
Increased by 10% for each 100 travelers recruited over the minimum.
Increased Reputation with the Crystal Reach.
+15,000 Experience
New Quest: Cost of Success
Objective: Sucks to be popular, huh? Present yourself at the Nephilim military headquarters within three days to join their forces fighting against the undead.
Victory Condition: Join the campaign.
Failure Condition: Miss the departure.
Rewards:
Increased Reputation with the Nephilim Military.
+25,000 Experience
x7 Level Up!
You have (35) undistributed stat points.
Holy shit! Alex could scale his experience gains based on the recruitment?
And those were some rookie numbers. He planned to blow this shit up—
“Are you alright?” Cassiel asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Alex blinked—refocusing. His smile vanished, and his eyes narrowed in concern. He almost swept aside the quest notifications, but hesitated as Cassiel stared.
He shouldn’t react. That’s what a traveler would do.
The Lady’s smile widened nearby, taunting. That bitch.
She’d almost caught him—dangling those quests like a trap.
“I’m fine, my apologies. The fatigue is catching up with me,” Alex replied smoothly. “It has been a long few days, with many more on the horizon.”
Cassiel nodded curtly. “Understandable. Pace yourself.”
With a wave of his hand, the interrogation room’s door swung open, revealing Nephilim standing at attention on the other side. Alex took the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat, rising and stepping toward the door. As he crossed the threshold, Cassiel’s words floated after him.
“May the Lady’s light bless your travels.”
Alex couldn’t help but smile.
“Oh, she already has,” he murmured, earning him a glare from the goddess.
Only moments later, he was outside again, bright sunlight shining down on resplendent crystal spires and floating islands—back within the relative safety of anonymity.
He only had a few days, much less time than he hoped. However, he would make it count. Jason had already given him a list of names: top prospects. People they could presumably trust. The trick was to ramp up interest in the dungeon slowly. They needed organic growth.
The travelers wouldn’t trust easily—not after they’d already been burned.
Alex’s fingers twitched, just enough to bring up the list.
One name stood out at the very top.
One that seemed almost… familiar.
Alex’s brow scrunched. What was Karen?
