Chapter Text
The sudden light of the production trailer on my eyes hurt, and I hissed in pain as the light burned after so long in the dark caverns of the Shattered Hollow. I was so used to my surrounds being lit only by the spear and, at the stairwell, by old-fashioned, soft-light torches. All of my menus and displays blinked away, leaving my vision clear for the first time in a while. I held my hands over my eyes, giving them a moment to adjust, and slowly pulled them away, keeping my eyes closed until the pain receded.
I opened them gently, annoyed at the stark white light of the room. I looked around, taking in the sight of the trailer around me. There was no one else here, but Lani was resting up against my leg, his tongue flicking in and out as he tasted the air. I could sense the stress in his muscles, how still he was, aside from his jaw and tongue as he searched the room.
The door to my right irised open, and I looked over, watching as what I assumed to be the same tall, thin woman from before walked in, talking loudly in some kind of trumpeting language that I couldn’t understand. The Cthulhu finished her conference and looked to me, reaching down to straighten her skirt a little.
“Hi… Annabelle?” I half-asked, unsure.
The woman smiled with her eyes, her tentacles flicking a little in what I hoped was pleasure at the fact I’d remembered her. “A’Nabyl,” she corrected gently. “Well, you’ve caused quite a stir in your circle of people, I’m not afraid to tell you, disappearing off the map like that.”
I frowned as Lani tried to climb my leg, then leaned down and picked him up. I held him like one would a baby, and he crawled his way around my torso under my arm, so he could rest both front paws on my shoulders, watching A’Nabyl warily. I couldn’t remember if he’d ever met her before, but I assumed not, from his reaction. I was glad for the thick leather of my apron, but I winced as his feet found purchase in my skin. I hoped I’d find a leather guard for my back soon.
“What do you mean?” I asked, watching as the woman punched something into the tablet in her arm. “You couldn’t see me?”
The woman smiled again with her eyes. “Oh, we could – after the first few hours, that is. Your trip through the Hollow was successfully tunnelled across the galaxy.”
There was a quick pop, and Corren the Kua-Tin appeared on the seat next to A’Nabyl, a small rebreather around her neck.
“Well, hello,” the woman said, looking at the lizard on my shoulders. “We thought you were dead.”
“Well, sorry to disappoint.” I looked to A’Nabyl. “Will the boys be here soon?”
The squid-woman shook her head. “While Aspen has negotiated their floor-end interview rights, they’re not currently talking to each other. We tried to have them together when they went down the stairs, but that ended in a fight, and we’re not in any hurry to repeat the experience.”
Corren’s breathing, where she was sitting on the lounge, was deep, the bubbling of her rebreather making my chest feel tight. “No doubt you will have a fair number of notifications available to you when you return to the dungeon. We are given to understand that you were separated into a parallel server, for lack of a better term, for the duration of the Hollow, and as such, all of your systems were isolated from the main crawl.”
I sat on another couch, staring at the Kua-Tin, and Lani chirruped, his tail curling around my waist. He was getting too heavy to remain on my shoulders for a long time. I would have to either build him a sling, or convince the little monitor lizard to do his own walking. It would probably be easier when he was bigger than I was, but that probably wouldn’t be for a long time.
I couldn’t think of anything to day to Corren’s words. The woman was distracted by the tablet on her lap, watching something.
“How long is left on the floor?” I asked, watching the fish-alien.
“About fifteen minutes,” she said, her voice distracted. She rapidly started punching something into the screen, and I realised I probably wouldn’t get much more out of the Outreach Associate.
We sat quietly for a while, both of the other women looking down at their tablets. I wished I could just pull out my phone and play a game or something with it, but I didn’t have any charge. The thing was basically a brick in my inventory.
Speaking of…
I tried to pull open my inventory, but the menus remained off. I frowned, but didn’t say anything, instead watching Corren having what looked like a flame war with an online troll.
A’Nabyl looked to Lani, who was watching Corren with a keen eye. “Please make sure Lani is under control, or you won’t be able to bring him onto future shows.”
“You need to get him a pet carrier,” Corren said. “There will be situations where you won’t want him wandering unrestrained around the environment.”
I took that advice, inclining my head to the Kua-Tin, who lifted her attention from the tablet long enough to watch me stand up, walking around the space.
"You're lucky, you know," A’Nabyl said after a moment, tilting her head at me. "The Hollowbeasts almost had you at the end there. That footage is… well, let’s just say it’s going to be a fan favourite."
I exhaled sharply, feeling an ache settle deeper into my limbs now that the adrenaline had worn off. "Fantastic," I muttered. "Always dreamed of almost dying on a live broadcast."
A’Nabyl chuckled, flicking something across her display. "And yet, you made it out. That’s why the network is pushing for an interview while everything’s still fresh. You, the survivor, the champion of the Shattered Hollow."
I snorted. "Champion? I barely made it out with my skin intact."
Corren made a placating motion with her webbed hand. "That’s the appeal. It’s not just about winning, it’s about struggling and overcoming. The audience is going to eat this up, and it will open your brand into demographics you’re currently neglecting."
Lani let out a low, disapproving chirp, shifting slightly on my shoulders. I scratched under his jaw, letting my fingers trail along the familiar ridges of his scales.
“Okay,” A’Nabyl said, glancing down at a notification. “Aspen is ready for you. Try to relax; no one here is trying to kill you.”
"That I know of," I sighed. "Let’s get it over with."
“That’s the spirit,” Corren said sarcastically as I headed to the door.
The space on the other side of the doorway was vast, bigger than I thought this ship could hold – then I remembered the hologram illusion from our last visit, and realised the same thing was playing out here – the set and the audience was being projected onto the walls, making them look deeper than they were
Aspen Grigori was perched on the desk like he'd always been there, polka-dot bowtie askew, halo still flickering between gold and black. His tail swayed lazily as his sharp green eyes settled on me, glimmering with interest.
“Ahhh, my most exquisite collection of misfits, monsters, and morally flexible onlookers! Welcome back to Dungeon Tonight!” he purred, voice smooth as silk. "That was quite the performance, wasn't it, folks?"
The audience roared, and I flinched before I could stop myself. I hadn’t heard them, hadn’t even really seen them until now—rows and rows of various alien forms, watchers in the dark, feeding on the footage of my escape like starving wolves. Very few of them had human faces, but the ones I could see looked like they enjoyed my desperate flight to safety.
“Now, I know you all have questions. You saw it. You felt it. That final, breathtaking escape! The beasts snapping at her heels! The last desperate leap! The pain!”
I despised them almost automatically. Sycophants. I could expect it from a cat, but from so many people—beings—lifeforms? No, it was unconscionable.
Aspen, of course, noticed my reaction to his audience as I sat down next to him, Lani riding my shoudlers
“And now, my dearest spectators, it is my delight to introduce to you the woman of the hour! The Knight who refused to fall! The runner, the risk-taker, the one with the single most wretched luck I have ever witnessed!”
The audience trilled, whistled and applauded their approval of my appearance.
“A round of applause, a show of tendrils, a polite series of chittering noises—however your species expresses approval, let’s hear it for our latest survivor!”
The crowd’s noise redoubled, and I felt my face flush. This was ridiculous.
Lani’s tongue flicked against my ear, and I took a deep breath. I couldn’t let my temper get the better of me; the sooner I got through this, the sooner I could—
Well, the sooner I could go back to the dungeon.
I honestly couldn’t decide which was worse.
"Ah," he said, tilting his head. "Still coming down from it, I see. Makes sense. That was a spectacular final sprint. A death-defying leap, a hard landing, and—well, let’s be honest—a bit of a mess at the bottom of the stairs."
The audience laughed. I swallowed the taste of bile.
Aspen’s ears twitched. "I have to ask, Wanda—at what point, exactly, did you realize you'd make it out alive? Because watching it back, I wasn’t sure myself."
I exhaled, slow and careful. "I don’t know," I admitted. "I don’t think I did think that, at all. The Hollow is soul-sapping place, dark and tight. I’m just glad to be out of there."
Aspen nodded as if he understood. "You didn’t think of it, not even when you hit the stairs?”
I shook my head.
"Fascinating." He leaned forward, his puffy orange tail whipping around in a visable sign of his focus on me. "Because from where I was watching, that moment—the jump, the landing—it was pure instinct, wasn't it? No hesitation, no second-guessing. It was almost like… you knew you'd make it."
His gaze sharpened, watching my reaction. I clenched my hands together in my lap, trying not to let him see the tremble in my fingers. Lani made a trill and turned to face Aspen, his tongue flicking out, almost threateningly.
"I didn't know anything," I said, voice tight. "I just ran."
Aspen hummed. "And yet, you survived. Just like you always do."
There was something in his tone—something leading. He was setting the bait.
I said nothing, waiting for him to go first.
He sighed theatrically and turned to the audience. "Isn't it remarkable, folks? Time and time again, we see the brave Knights facing impossible odds, and yet, against all reason, they pull through! But is it strategy? Is it fate? Or is it something else?"
He looked back at me, eyes bright with mischief. "Tell me, Wanda—do you believe in luck?"
I hesitated. "No."
Aspen raised a brow. "No?"
I set my jaw. "Luck didn't get me out of there."
"Maybe not, but it did prevent you being buried alive under all that rubble," he said with a smile, pleased. "But tell me, if you don’t believe in luck, then what helped you to the end of the floor?"
I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to say skill or desperation or sheer, blind panic. I wasn’t sure which one was true.
"Lani," I said instead. "I wasn’t leaving him behind, and he wasn’t leaving me."
The audience awed, but Aspen’s expression barely changed. If anything, he looked even more interested.
"Ah, yes," he murmured. "Little Lani.” He hesitated for effect, then laid a paw on Lani’s muzzle, as though comparing the size of his nose to Aspen’s paw. Though he made it look like the pair connected, when Lani moved to flick his tongue, Aspen’s paw dipped just slightly into the lizard’s skin. “Well, not as little as he once was, that’s for sure!”
The audience laughed. Lani stood up a little taller, his head above my own, and he flicked his tongue out, tasting the air, looking for the audience.
“You were determined to save him, weren’t you? Through all of that, you held on to him, and he’s rewarded you with his company." He tilted his head. "That’s a lot of risk for one person. He must be important to you."
I nodded.
Aspen tilted his head, all lazy curiosity. “And your friends?” His voice was light—too light. “Where are they now?”
I went still.
His smile stayed fixed, effortless, but his tail flicked—just once. A tiny betrayal. The dim glow of his broken halo flared for a heartbeat. He already knew.
“You haven’t seen them, have you?” His voice softened, threading its way beneath my defenses.
My throat clenched. "Not for a few days.”
The audience murmured. Aspen sat up straighter, his bangles clinking. "That must be... nerve-wracking. De-motivating. Not knowing."
I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "They’re strong," I said. "They’ll be fine. They might be having a fight now, but they’ll come back together. They usually do."
"But are you fine?" Aspen countered. “You are taking on the entire dungeon on your own. We wouldn’t blame you if you were scared or lonely.”
I hesitated.
That was all he needed.
Aspen’s tail flicked, slow and deliberate. “See, this is what I find so fascinating.” His voice was smooth, thoughtful, like he was picking apart something fragile. “You were out. You made it through the Hollow alive. And then—” he gestured, claws barely visible at the tips of his digits, “—they were waiting for you. But youve received terrible news since then, havent you? The Knights of Alberdaan have split. Damien blames himself for your fall; the others have different views on his sanity.”
I clenched my jaw. I could still feel the cold stone under my hands, the weight of Lani on my nack, the feeling of weightlessness as the groubd crumbled and I dropped.
“You could’ve stopped at any time,” he continued, watching me closely. “there were a lot of creatures down ther. You could’ve hesitated, given up, but you didn’t. You ran, knowing you couldn't win. You threw yourself forward like it was the only option.” He tilted his head. “Was it?”
I swallowed hard.
Aspen let the question hang in the air before leaning in slightly. “Was it really just about saving Lani? Or was it about something else? Was there, perhaps, a small hope that the Hollowbeasts would catch you, abd it would all be done?”
The air felt too thick, too heavy. Aspen’s gaze pinned me in place, his green eyes glowing.
I wanted to tell him to go to hell. "I..."
Aspen smiled like he’d already won. "You know," he said, almost offhandedly, "some would call that reckless. Some would call it bravery."
I let out a breath. "What would you call it?"
Aspen grinned. "Oh, Wanda. I call it entertainment." He spread his paws out to encompass the audience, who were laughing.
They were fucking laughing.
Aspen stretched luxuriously, as if the conversation had already slipped from his mind. "You’ve been through hell and back, and you’re still standing—well, mostly. We’ll leave it there for now, but something tells me we haven’t heard the last of you." The cat turned to an invisible camera.
“Stick around, larvae and cruciforms, we have another special guest on after this small advertising break!" The applause hit like a wave, filling the empty spaces where my thoughts should’ve been. Aspen walked along his desk, polka-dot bowtie flapping as he strutted. "Its the bird himself, the king of the Tarsit system, Mal--”
The set vanished, cutting Aspen off mid-word. I blinked, looking around.
“Eugh,” I moaned, leaning forward in my seat to rub at my eyes as the door to the green room opened. “I really hate cats.”