There is no Epic Loot here, Only Puns.

Wyin swept the mist back as if brushing a loose strand of hair behind one ear. The veil rushed into hidden holes around the island of paradise that was Wyin’s home. A rush of air that vanished with almost musical notes.

A plucky lot, aren’t they?

Nu’s bluish-form was distracting as he stared down at the panting adventuring party. A young man that looked to be growing an afternoon shadow with a tasteful business suit, if Delta’s memories were correct. Nu’s one concession was that his jacket was undone and his tie was loose like a noose. His ruffled hair seemed to be growing longer each time Wyin looked.

His smile, however, was so shark-like it belonged in the cut-throat world of stock markets and liquifying both corporations and people. Which one depending entirely on his mood at the time.

In the light, Nu was handsome, but Wyin wouldn’t ever fall for him. In the dynamics of power, the tie between two beings... she could never truly love a dangerous beast that was too like herself. Wyin very much enjoyed being the one in control.

“Plucky... well they are looking plucked,” Wyin said, enjoying the way Nu’s smile changed to anguish at the wording. Wyin didn’t like wordplay or puns, but she’d love them just enough to use them against Nu.

“She’s... mocking us,” the little boy, who tried to smother his light with death, gritted out. His various bone instruments laid about the boss arena, shattered, but even in pieces... even in dust, the boy proved to be clever. Between snake skeletons turned into whips or that little trick where he almost grew bone segments over her eyes with chalk dust.

Wyin would have to keep him down... he was too clever at times. At first, she was worried, but the boy lacked the... the true affinity for death. But the way he struggled to keep something contained... something powerful made her want to poke him until he snapped like one of her small branches.

But Wyin would behave. Children were in bad taste to traumatise, even if it made them stronger in the long run. Thankfully, Delta had less pity for stumbling buffoons, so Wyin would always have grown men and women to break physically and mentally... even spiritually if she had time.

“Why the angry face, dear? Did I do something to upset you?” Wyin asked, innocently like a naive Dryad emerging in spring. She absentmindedly shook the case in her other ‘hand’ making the snoring boy inside roll about.

Another scary child, if Wyin was honest. Still, for all her drake breathes and flame goliath fire auras? Wyin had tasted stronger. Not that she let herself get too cocky. The fire mage who burned her very ‘self’ was merely fifteen minutes away from the Dungeon and into the town...

Even if he didn’t seem to recognise her now.

Someone put a hand on the girl’s shoulder and Wyin tried not to avert her eyes. The... thing shook his head.

“She’s trying to make you rush,” the golem said, his blond hair and petit features too perfectly to be natural outside years of selective breeding. Just before the extra toes started showing up... Wyin both glanced over the golem and tried to avoid looking too long. It was a frustrating feeling.

Magnetically drawn, and yet, instinctually repulsed.

Some part of ‘was-her-now-him’ flowed inside that aura the golem called a soul, but it was mixed with so many things... like a beautiful tapestry that was set on fire with glee until it lived with confused flailing.

It was the work of a master. A dark and twisted master who delved where no mortal should.

“My name is Vas and I would like to negotiate for the release of our comrade,” the boy began and Wyin saw a shrewdness that was so like her own for a moment before it was replaced by foolish brightness.

“I accept. I would like you all to submit and give up. Do so and your ‘friend’ is yours, whole and alive,” Wyin offered, in what she thought was quite a generous deal.

“If we refuse, will you kill him?” asked the shifty one with the cat summon. Grommet or something. Wyin would learn his name later when she cared. Wyin thought about it but after a few seconds of manipulative wording, the image of Delta rising up from the dark abyss of Wyin’s conscious glowed orange.

‘Imagine they were your children’ the spiritual Delta said benevolently.

“Like a toad under both feet,” Wyin said bluntly. The kids froze and the mental Delta screeched and Nu shot her an odd look.

‘Every child you save gives you a loyalty point on this stamp card that allows you to traumatise one person that I don’t care about!’ Conscious-Delta argued, waving some card about and Wyin hastily took back her words.

Wyin didn’t know if she was developing a conscious or Delta was speaking to her through some veil of consciousness, but Wyin wasn’t letting that deal go!

“I’m joking! Looking at his...” Wyin stared at the boy, Deo, and hesitated.

“His... pinchable... meaty cheeks that flow with hot warm bloo..d?” Wyin said, smiling as if nails were being inserted into her eyes.

I am having no part of this...

Nu turned, simply walking out of the boss room as if some meal he had been anticipating had been replaced by cardboard.

“Well, Deo’s dead. I think we can still escape the same fate if we run and don’t run into any more murderous trees, knock on wood,” Grim said then looked furious with himself.

“I won’t leave my teammate behind!” the priestess said with a serious tone. She reached into her robes that looked like she had tied a cloud to her body. It was sensual and Wyin felt her own mist trick was a little lacking in comparison.

“And what little trick do you have?” she asked as she snaked a vine around the pun-making cretin’s leg and lassoing him around to stop him making any more bad jokes.

The woman held up a single length of white cloth, the thing dancing in the breeze.

It... didn’t seem to have a magical aura and the thing threw Wyin for a moment, cautiously gathering mist and curling her vines in case this was a trap. Even her teammates looked confused.

“In the darkest of pits and with the foulest of creatures, I give up my flawed sight... and let the path of truth guide me. With the white cloth of surrender... I give my fate to my goddess,” she warned and with ease, blindfolded herself. Wyin scrunched up her face.

“Pit? Foul? Excuse me, I made Delta work very hard on-” she began but froze as something washed over the room.

A touch of divinity.

Wyin saw shadows move as a new light source leaked out the woman’s body. The mushroom staff in her hand creaking and straining as ethereal glowing veins travelled its length, meeting at the tip. The item struggling to channel the power now filled the priestess.

The priestess seemed to have no idea the sheer image she gave off.

“I have confused feelings about this,” the little death-mage said bluntly.

Wyin narrowed her eyes, taking no chances, she moved dozens of vines at the priestess, parting the meadows like a wave breaking upon the shore.

The priestess tilted her head, then floated as if made of nothing but feathers and purity. She weaved around the snaking vines. The priestess shot skywards and the vines followed with snatching intentions.

The staff she wielded swung and began to smack into each one with accuracy that was...

Wyin stared as every smack of the staff landed perfectly, the touch exploded each vine in white energy strands of viscous sap.

“That cheating goddess. I call... what does Delta call it... hax! Hax! The woman is using aimbots!” Wyin raged, words she didn’t understand flowing out in comforting anger.

“The path of truth is easy to see amongst a garden of lies and fake-masks,” the priestess called as she shot towards Wyin, still glowing with divine power.

Of all the luck, Wyin’s first religious nutter had to be a legitimate saint.

A very untrained and timid saint, but that was like saying the knife in your kidney was only a little sharp.

“This hurts Deo’s... no, all their dreams are to be the first team to conquer this dungeon. I won’t let you end their dreams. They’re good kids, Wyin!” the saint-girl cried as she glowed with more power with each word of truth. The staff smashed into her cheek, moving through her wall of vines as if it knew the exact angle, speed, and spin needed to break through.

The image of that... staff on her face made Wyin’s temper boil.

What if Sir Fran had been watching?!

Wyin’s amber eyes slowly looked at the Saint without moving her face.

“Little girl...,” she began before vines curled around the staff, gripping it hard.

“You wished to ‘spit some truth’ at me? Very well,” Wyin said, moving slowly, making the staff groan ominously.

“Let’s have a heart-to-heart. My name is Wyin and I don’t think anybody loves me,” she began and the glow around the Saint diminished hard as if a sharp wind blew out her divine light.

It hurt Wyin like a shard of glass in her heart, but the look of panic on the girl’s face was so delicious.

She pulled the staff closer into her flowering dress, sliding it down smooth wood as the girl struggled to get free.

“I lost who I was and now I don’t even know if I like who I am becoming,” she said casually, the phallic staff was gushing white energy now, unable to contain it due to Wyin’s constant squeezing.

“And honestly. I like Delta. She tries hard and she has a side that I see that I don’t think others do,” Wyin admitted, seeing Nu’s dark blue form skulking in the shadows.

“And if it weren’t for her... you’d all be dead,” she said, sensually into the priestess’ ears. The divine buff snuffed out, leaving a limp girl in Wyin’s grip. Her staff sagged, spent of any power.

The saint slowly raised her head and Wyin’s smirk slipped off her face as the girl was grinning.

“I didn’t lie... you just presumed that I didn’t have a plan,” she admitted as there was a sudden pain from her arms.

From the staff, necrotic dark energy that had been hiding under the divine light shot across Wyin’s body and into the cage. It was weakening, becoming rotted as a severed hand flew out from the girl’s cloud dress and sucker-punched Wyin hard enough to make her entire form rock back.

She saw out the corner of her eye that the golem waved a cheerful two-armed wave, missing his left hand. When had he detatch-... Wyin’s mind flashed to not a few moments before when he stopped the bestial girl, putting a hand on her shoulder!

He must have cut it off and left it there as he talked to her...

The crafty little... wait, Wyin panicked as something was still missing.

She felt the ground rumbling. The death-mage grinned, exhausted as he fell to his knees, the beast-girl at his side collapsing into clothes and dead skin.

A one-sided mimic, even the clothes looked to be made of hastily dyed hair.

Something shot past her roots like a shark moving through the soil.

A massive limbless worm with veins of burning fire breached the ground as Wyin did her best to move the rotting cage, but the girl snapped her maw over it and snapped it clean.

There were still human features, but clearly, this advance transformation had taken time and her team had bought more than enough for her.

They had rescued Deo.

Wyin couldn’t even deny they had completely and utterly pulled the wool over her eyes.

She closed her eyes and sighed as Maestro began to play the trumpets in a morally uplifting victory theme.

“Wow... it worked,” the annoying one said and Wyin scowled, dropping him on a slightly softer piece of the boss arena. Her challenge had... been beaten, so she would stop trying to murder the children.

For now.

“You didn’t do anything,” Wyin reminded as she examined her chomped branches with dismay. It would take minutes to grow all this back and days to get it trimmed just right.

“Hey! It was my plan and you’re just annoyed we wormed our way into a win,” he grinned then looking at the beast-girl transforming back, sighed.

“Can you break curses?” the boy asked hopefully. Wyin didn’t even blink.

“Death is the best way. I suggest a neat beheading. Get the curse juices out quickly,” she said coyly.

“I’ll keep looking,” he responded dryly.

Ah well, Wyin was just being honest.

Before long, they all gathered before her.

“Wake him up,” the saint girl insisted as the beast-girl checked on Deo with worry.

“I didn’t put him to sleep,” Wyin said, bemused.

There was a long moment as they all stared at her then back at Deo who was snoring his head off on the girl’s lap.

“He’s a heavy sleeper. I was hoping he’d wake up and scream a little,” she insisted, getting annoyed that they weren’t believing her.

This is...

Wyin turned to see Nu struggling with something she couldn’t see. It was like he was trying to turn a valve but it was beyond him.

I knew it was bad, but how did she bend the reward mech-... wait, I got it!

Nu crowed in success as something seemed to give in his hands. There was a loud popping noise like a giant bubble had exploded overhead. Nu began to spin with a shriek as whatever he tried to do was now taking him for a ride.

“What was that?” Deo mumbled, having felt the rumble. He seemed to feel the pop more than the entire battle... it was astounding.

Nu was now a blue vortex as the system he was trying to use didn’t like his hands-on handling and then he shot across the room as something like a white rip in space formed, the sounds of reels filling the room.

“Oh, rewards! I hope I get a wand to match my staff! Having side-arms are always useful,” the saint clapped and Wyin pursed her lips, deciding that no one could be that naive.

“Girl, you don’t need more toys, you need a man,” she said and the girl shook her head as the light grew brighter.

“I don’t ‘need’ a man or anyone for that matter. If a partner wants to come into my life then they will appear at an appropriate time and with heroic charm. They have to be not too old... and be earnest... and if they like helping people that would be nice too,” the saint lectured with a sweetness that made Wyin want to gag.

“I’m sorry, but people don’t just fall from the sky-” Wyin began, cynical acid building in her tone before someone fell from the white tear, landing in a crouch before Kemy.

Some squire knights costume with a sword over one shoulder.

Wyin stared as he stood slowly, looking around with a frown.

“Delta, this isn’t the third floor. I think you missed,” he called to the tear. In the tear, barely audible to Wyin, let alone the humans, Delta’s voice cried out.

“I’m sorry! I’ve never inter-Dungeon transported someone. It’s not as easy as it looks! Listen, I promise there is a feast table down there. Just go down the stairs and enjoy yourself! I’ll need a minute to find my way out,” she defended herself.

The young man turned, looking slightly red and smiling to himself as if Delta’s words made him happy. Then he saw Wyin... then the group...

The smile vanished under a stoic mask that would make rocks envious.

“Kemy just got rewarded a boyfriend,” the golem nodded and the saint looked either terrified or star-struck.

“Lame... I want giant magical swords or artefacts that make me invisible,” Gr...something complained. The knight looked awkward before he pointed and Kemy turned invisible as if erased from existence.

“I am Alpha... family of Delta. I must go now. I am not... taking requests right now other than assuring you that I am quite capable. Forgive me, I’m on a break from being a hero,” he bowed politely and turned on his heel.

He didn’t get far before something yanked on his arm, Kemy slowly becoming visible with a smile.

“Hey... even if you’re not my reward. I-I’d like to say hello and... know more about Delta. Can we come with you, to the next floor?” she asked and Wyin felt ignored.

This was her boss room... and they were having emotional connections in her vicinity. She needed a hose. The air felt tainted.

“The third floor is not... available for trial but there is a feasting table that you can all go enjoy. Go, leave... explode. Just don’t linger,” Wyin said bluntly as Nu floated back with a dishevelled appearance, looking like he had gone through a ringer.

Items began to fall from the tear before it sealed up. Wyin snatched them and hurled them at people, like a squirrel trying to get interlopers off her lawn.

A large black branch that was infused with the spirit of winter. The goth took that up with eagerness that he passed off as aloofness. Some thorny collar for the beast girl that was glaring at her, keeping Deo behind her. The thing had some magic that Wyin only knew was not teleportation to make them leave faster.

Kemy got sharp stiletto heels that had thorns for the actual heel. They were dark and clashed with her innocent cloud robe.

They’d let her be balanced no matter what was under her, barring magical interference.

Great, she could hustle on to the next floor faster!

She tried them on as the boy who made Wyin want to kill something watched. Something about this ‘Alpha’ made some deep urge rise up. A long and dead dungeon instinct to murder that Wyin needed no help in cultivating.

Her own murderous rage was sufficient so she ignored it. Kemy took three steps and fell over, the magic in them clearly counting on the wearer being able to walk in heels already.

“What about us?” Vas insisted as he pointed to himself and the dark one.

“Grim and I did a lot. Deo should get something for playing the victim,” he added after a moment. He reached down and reattached his hand, the flesh moving like a liquid until the hand and arm were one again. When he did that, Wyin tasted something...

Incredible. She smiled, seeing what the Golem was... or... what it would be, his nature so clear for the single moment. His master was a devious one. Wyin would tip her head in respect if the idea didn’t want to make her skewer the golem now and end it before it could bloom.

Nu scowled as he heard the question and smacked the rift a few times as if adjusting a signal on an old TV set.

It spluttered and spat out a little tacky participation trophy decorated with glitter and metallic paint. It had Deo’s name on it. It did have a little magic to it, but Wyin had no idea what it was.

Picking it up, Deo spun on one foot and held it skywards in one hand, giving off a loud cheerful cry.

The rift wheezed a few times, giving up a book and flower crown.

The book was a cosy looking thing with a cover showing a little ant riding on a train towards some quaint city. It was titled ‘How to chill out and be a helpful hobo-teacher’ by one R.Rivers.

The pages seem to have tons of comments made in the margin by some editor that Wyin could see was sassy. Grim held the book out like it was going to bite him.

Vas put the crown on his head and began to... Wyin recoiled... he was vibing.

Alpha seemed to watch this all, from Kemy topping over everywhere, Deo still posing with his trophy, The death mage posing with enough edge to make razor wire, Grim nibbling the book like a toddler, and the beast girl putting the collar on a nearby rock which made it grow little legs and run around barking.

Then there was Vas.

Vibing.

She sent a Pygmie downstairs to get her a flagon of troll ale. Wyin was going to blackout and erase this from her short term memory. It was for the best.

It was either drink or taking up knitting with their organs and one of those required patience.

---

Delta pressed her cheek against the floor. The white nothingness was cool.

Narrowing her eyes, she licked it and left an orange streak. The meeting room had a few bugs to sort out. One, Delta couldn’t evacuate because she couldn’t slip into 100% dungeon mindset to use the way out.

Darn her humanizing mindset and inability to go beep-boop-murder.

“Well, if I can’t get out that way. I’ll just make my own,” she declared and began to lick the floor.

“How many licks does it take to get out of the centre of a dimensional soul-scape?” she wondered.

16... it turned out.

The floor cracked and Delta saw she had not taken in the consideration that she was on top of the hole when it finally gave.

She floated there for a moment, over the yawning abyss.

“This is fine,” she said calmly as she began to fall.

She fell for a long time, crashing into tubes she wasn’t sure she wasn’t supposed to be going down. She gave a yelp as the spongy mushroom tubes turned sharp and metallic. The feeling of orange faded sharply, only her own body glowing orange as she crashed into something hard. It was a place of stone...?

No, more like ash.

Ash that was so delicate that one hiss of breath would bring down the entire city of ash.

No... not a city. Not ridges and levels of some ringed city. These were floors.

A disconnected series of levels of a dungeon. She flowed to the very bottom, past all 103 floors into the depths where the core was.

Where the core... should have been. Instead, in a giant room where knights of gleaming metal once stood and art mosaics that made Delta want to cry even in their diminished states.

It had all become flash-frozen ash.

The back, on a raised platform, a massive crater devoured the space, the ruins of a pedestal barely poking out the bottom. Her form tried to fill the space, forming a slight glassy orb, more energy than physical substance.

Around her, the ash began to sluggishly turn to orange metal that shone. Orange Silver... a paradox that would cling to her over oblivion.

It began to hurt.

All the floors pulling at her at once. 103 floors. 10 special floors of bosses so long dead that not even a dungeon’s power could resurrect them. 93 floors of ‘lesser’ bosses or powerful traps or gimmicks.

Over 2000 Monsters, some able to return... others not.

Powerful magic items and obstacles.

Pulling and tugging at one last gasp of breath that was Delta.

Delta began to crack down her sides, seems coming undone in sharp edges, and she could not utter a sound.

It took everything she had to keep... it... together. Her hands dissolved as the dungeon that was too big for her sucked and drained her. One of her eyes went dark and thoughts started... to... become...

Slo...oo...w.

S-he-e... wa-s Delta… Delta…

Del...ta.

...

De...l

...Ta

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