Jason couldn’t stay inside that room any longer.

The walls felt like they were closing in. The air was thick with the smell of old wood, sweat, and whatever cheap soap the inn used on its sheets. Ylva was still curled up on the floor, her breathing slow and even, her tail wrapped around her legs like a blanket. Thalion lay sprawled across the bed, his silver hair fanned out on the pillow, his pale face slack with deep, exhausted sleep.

Neither of them stirred as Jason stood up, stepped over Ylva’s outstretched tail, and pulled the door open.

The hallway was dark. A single lantern flickered at the far end, casting long shadows across the creaking floorboards. Jason moved quietly, his bare feet cold against the wood, and made his way down the stairs and out the front door of the Feather’s Rest.

The night air hit him like a slap.

Cold. Sharp. Clean.

Jason leaned against the stone wall outside the inn, pressing his back against the rough surface, and tilted his head up toward the sky. Stars dotted the darkness above—more stars than he had ever seen in his past life. No light pollution here. Just endless pinpricks of silver and white, scattered across a velvet void.

He took a deep breath. Then another.

His heart was still pounding.

The nightmare—if it was a nightmare—clung to his mind like cobwebs. That strange place with the glass floor and the swirling colors. That shadowy figure with mismatched eyes. The way it had spoken: I am the system. Or at least a part of it.

Jason didn’t know what the dream meant. It could mean multiple things. He could be losing his mind. He could be having a stress-induced hallucination. Or maybe his system was evolving, manifesting in ways he didn’t understand.

But it felt similar to when Thalion invaded his mind to show him those visions. The door. The center. The pull that had guided him through the tower.

Thalion had reached into Jason’s dreams using magic. Powerful magic. High-level magic that had nearly killed him just to cast.

Jason had some immunity to magic. Twenty percent adaptation, thanks to his system. But somehow, this thing—this shadow figure—had influenced him. If it was magic at all. Because if this was a system or something similar, it was highly unlikely to be something that had a "self". Well, at least that is what he thought. Until now.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.

"Too many unknowns," he muttered to himself. "I hate unknowns."

He pushed off the wall and started walking. Nothing too far—just a few steps down the street to clear his head. The inn would still be there when he got back. Ylva and Thalion would still be sleeping. He just needed a moment.

The adventurer’s district was quiet at this hour. Most of the taverns had closed their doors. The markets were shuttered. A few lanterns still burned in windows, but the streets were empty.

Jason rounded a corner and nearly walked straight into a massive shield.

He stumbled back, his hands flying up. "Whoa—!"

"Watch where you’re going," a gruff voice rumbled.

Jason looked up.

Standing in front of him was the dwarf woman from Kaelen’s guild. Helga. The one with the red beard braided with iron rings, the nose that had been broken so many times it was flat against her face, and arms thicker than Jason’s thighs. Her shield was strapped to her back, but her warhammer hung at her hip, its head crackling faintly with residual lightning magic. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

She was sitting on a wooden crate outside a closed weapon shop, a half-empty flask in her hand.

"Oh," Jason said, exhaling. "It’s you. The... dwarf."

"Helga," she said, eyeing him. "And you’re the little meat that Kaelen won’t shut up about."

Jason winced. "That nickname is really catching on, huh?"

Helga grunted and took a swig from her flask. "What are you doing out here at this hour? You should be inside,"

"Couldn’t sleep," Jason admitted. He gestured vaguely at the empty street. "Needed fresh air."

Helga studied him for a long moment, her small, dark eyes sharp despite the late hour. Then she jerked her head toward the crate beside her. "Sit. You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Jason hesitated, then shrugged and sat down. The crate was cold and hard, but it was better than standing.

"You drink?" Helga asked, offering the flask.

Jason took it. The liquid inside burned going down—some kind of strong liquor, not unlike the ale Kaelen had bought him earlier. He coughed slightly and handed it back.

"Thanks."

Helga nodded. "So. What’s eating you?"

Jason stared at the cobblestone street. He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t say I had a nightmare about a shadow figure that might be my magical system trying to communicate with me. That would sound insane.

So he said something close to the truth.

"I had a strange dream," he said slowly. "Felt like someone was in my head. Messing with my thoughts."

Helga’s brow furrowed beneath her braided beard. "Someone? Or something?"

"I don’t know." Jason rubbed his temples. "It’s happened before. Someone appeared in my dreams, showed me visions. But that was different. That was an outside thing. This felt... internal. Like it came from inside me."

Helga was quiet for a moment. She took a long drink from her flask, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Could be a curse," she said. "Some spells leave marks. Not physical ones. Things that fester in your mind. Grow over time."

Jason shook his head. "Doesn’t feel like a curse. Feels like... I don’t know. Like something that’s always been there. Waking up."

Helga’s eyes narrowed. "That’s worse. A curse you can break. Something inside you? That’s not a curse. That’s a part of you now."

"Great," Jason muttered. "Exactly what I wanted to hear."

"I’m not here to make you feel better," Helga said flatly. "I’m telling you what I’ve seen. And I’ve seen a lot of strange things in this world. Creatures that wear your own face. Voices in your head that sound like your mother. Dreams that leave bruises on your body when you wake up."

Jason turned to look at her. "You’ve had something like this happen to you?"

Helga was silent for a long moment. Her thick fingers traced the rim of her flask.

"My brother," she said finally. "He started having dreams. Visions. Said something was calling to him from deep underground. We thought he was losing his mind. Then one day, he followed the call. Walked into a dungeon alone. Never came out."

Jason’s stomach tightened. "I’m sorry."

Helga shrugged, but the gesture was heavy. "That was twenty years ago. I stopped feeling sorry a long time ago. Now I just... remember."

"So what do I do?" Jason asked. "If it’s not a curse, and it’s not magic, and it’s something inside me?"

Helga turned to face him fully. Her dark eyes were hard, but there was something underneath—something that looked almost like concern.

"You figure out what it wants," she said. "Because it’s not going away. Things like that never do."

Jason let out a long breath. "That’s not very comforting."

"I’m not a comforting person." Helga stood up, stretching her thick arms above her head. "Come on. Walk with me. I was heading back to my guild’s lodging anyway."

Jason stood up. "You don’t have to babysit me."

"I’m not babysitting. I’m walking." She started down the street, her heavy boots clanking against the cobblestones. "Keep up or don’t. I don’t care."

Jason fell into step beside her.

They walked in silence for a minute, passing darkened buildings and shuttered windows. The stars above were starting to fade, the sky turning from black to deep purple at the edges. Dawn wasn’t far off.

"Helga," Jason said. "That dungeon Kaelen mentioned. The one with the egg. Is it really as dangerous as he made it sound?"

Helga’s footsteps slowed. She glanced at him sideways.

"Worse," she said. "He left out the part where half our guild died. And the part where the egg wasn’t the only thing down there."

Jason’s stomach tightened. "What else was there?"

Helga stopped walking. She turned to face him, her dark eyes serious.

"Something that didn’t want to be found," she said. "Something old. Something angry." She tapped her warhammer. "My hammer barely tickled it. Kaelen’s axes bounced off its hide. And Mira—" She paused, her jaw tightening. "Mira still has nightmares about the sound it made."

Jason swallowed. "And you want to go back?"

Helga snorted. "Hell no. But Kaelen wants that egg. And when Kaelen wants something, we follow. That’s how guilds work."

"That’s stupid."

"Yep." Helga started walking again. "But loyalty is stupider. And here we are."

They reached a crossroads. To the left, the road led back toward the Feather’s Rest. To the right, toward the guild lodgings.

Helga stopped. "This is me."

Jason nodded. "Thanks for the drink. And the... talk."

Helga grunted. "Get some sleep, little meat. You’ll need it if you’re dumb enough to join our crawl."

She turned and walked away, her shield clanking with every step.

Jason watched her go, then headed back toward the inn.

His mind was still racing. But at least now, it was racing with new questions.

There was a chance this was the system but if it wasn’t, was Thalion trying to do something to him?

That was another possibility but it mentioned his adaptation system, this wasn’t something Thalion was aware of.