Worthy Core

Xenia blinks in disbelief, but there's no denying her eyes. Standing on the porch of the house across the street with an expression mixing concern and anger is a woman she hasn't seen in at least half a millennium.

Danielle Worthy.

She's just as Xenia remembers - or wait, is she? Did she always have those streaks of grey, starting to develop amidst those raven locks? Surely her eyes didn't have that many wrinkles forming, did they? Her blue eyes are as clear as ever though, and despite now being much older than her mother, Xenia can't help but gulp at their attention. Hopping to her feet, Xenia finds her pains and exhaustion suddenly taking second place on her list of concerns.

"Mom! I'm okay! You're good? Everything's alright!" She raises her arms, and at that point the bruised ribs do remind her of their presence, making her wince.

"Okay!? You said you were going to the store, and you come back with dragons? Look at Ted's car! How is he going to get to work now? Where is that old man, anyways...or the damned police? Never around when you need them..."

Danielle had begun walking down the sidewalk as she spoke, but by time she reaches the curb she's intercepted by a Xenia-shaped missile. Arms wrapped around her, the middle-aged woman totters for a moment before regaining her balance. "Xen? You...you are alright, right? Let me take a look at you..."

"I'm fine, mom. I'm gonna be just fine." Xenia blinks for a moment, but when she's fairly certain that she's beaten back her tears for a brief while she pulls back. "You're...not that worried about the dragons? Cause I gotta admit, that fight was a bit wild even by my standards..."

Her mother sighs and takes a look at the damage. The ghostly Dragonlord has by now entirely faded away, but the corpse of their fleshy body remains. As does the modest wreckage the battle had created from the suburban street. A few minor fires still burn, although the vegetation is wet enough that it's unlikely to spread, at least. "Well, I never believed in dragons before, but I ain't stupid enough to not know one when I damned well see one, now am I? But I saw some of it from the kitchen - I mean, hell, how would I miss it - and at least one of them seemed rather unhappy with you in particular, young lady. How did you manage to piss off a damned dragon on the way to the corner shop!?"

A thought makes Xenia pause. Is this...the day she died? All these years later, the days of her first life tend to blur together in her memory. It's not as if there was anything special about the day she was run over. She was visting her mother, she went out as she often did, there was a sound of honking...and Xenia Worthy, her original form, never came home from her short trip. "It's...it's hard to explain, mom. I've been away...a real long time."

Dammit. Deep inside, Xenia curses to herself. She knows this isn't real. Her mom died of old age centuries ago, this isn't even Danielle Worthy's soul. It's just...an impression of her mother, created from her own experiences by the magic of the dungeon and her curses. Despite that, she can't stop herself from wanting to make this encounter last a little longer. As if seeing the need to calm her daughter, Danielle runs her fingers through Xenia's hair.

"Is this like one of those fantasy movies, Xen? Did you...go into the closet, or one of those damned things?"

She can't help herself. "Bit late for that, you caught me kissing Paula back when I was sixteen - ow!" Her joke is interrupted as Danielle's soothing motion turns into a bap upon on her skull.

"I'm serious! If you've been...summoned by some magic tiger or something, just let me know and I'll give him a good talking to! You look well enough, at least..."

Xenia tries to hide her grimace, but fails. "I'm...a little older than I look, actually. It's a lot to explain. Though uh, on that note...maybe I should introduce you to somebody? Nix, Nox, come over here and...and meet your grandma."

Danielle gasps. "Grandma!? I told you about using protection, and..." Her words fade out as Nix and Nox come out from the grass of the opposing lawn and make their way across the street. They give Danielle twinned, awkward waves, and she glances back and forth between them and Xenia several times. Eventually, she leans down to whisper into Xenia's ear.

"...Xenia. Were you screwing that dragon? Was that your ex-boyfriend?"

"Pfahahaha!" The tension deflates as Xenia doubles over, but only slightly, not helped by the transition into an 'ow, ow, ow', as the ribs again voice their complaints. "No, definitely not, mom, though it's definitely a long story. I...kind of had these two with a goddess?"

"Well!" Danielle briefly looks a little proud, then conflicted. "...That doesn't sound very Christian of you, but at least you've got high standards. Do you intend to tell me this story?"

Xenia actually has to consider the question. These fake realms...they don't last forever. Perhaps a couple of hours, if a death or other harsh moment doesn't force her out. But it's hardly a stopped clock in here, there's no telling what's going on in the real world at this particular moment. Her friends could need her right now.

But looking into her mom's face, Xenia decides she can trust them to protect her. At least for a while. "Mom...I can't stay here. Not for long. It's not going to last."

Now, true worry begins to etch itself onto Danielle's face. "You...you really have to go? But...you just got back?"

"I know, I know. But...maybe we can stay for a bit? I have so much I want to tell you."

"Well of course!" Danielle pulls back to look at the dragonlings. "How about you two? Ever had iced tea? I've got a pitcher in the kitchen, and some cookies from the grocery...a grandmother ought to spoil her grandkids a little, don't you think?"

The twins are certainly united on this one. "We'd love some tea and cookies! Thank you, grandma! We love you!"

"Well!" Danielle blinks, and the tear she wipes from the corner of one eye is mirrored on her daughter. "At least you know how to raise some good kids, I see."

"Learned from the best, mom. I learned from the best."

In the guardian arena of Floor Eleven, silence reigns. That is not, however, because those present are feeling much calmer than they were a minute before.

For the remaining soldiers of the Domain, and perhaps one or two surviving Scale Wardens, shock certainly does much to explain their reactions. Physically, the core of the Great Dungeon was not exactly a vital organ for the Dragonlord, and the dragon's form still lives...for now. However, it was only the dungeon's magic that kept that body active, and now only the most basic of bodily functions still occur. The dragon's heart still beats, and the dragon still breathes...if irregularly, and with an unhealthy-sounding gurgle. Some of the army healers move in to try and save their sovereign, but none present come close to even approaching the power required to restore a ruined mind.

For the defenders of the dungeon meanwhile the reason for their silence is something entirely different.

The cracking of a dungeon core is an irregular event, one usually occurring no more than once or twice a decade, at least on this continent. When it does occur it's almost always of a relatively young dungeon - one that formed too closely to population centers, or which never learned the term 'moderation' when it came to dealing with Challengers. When it happens, the power and skills collected by the dungeon over their brief lives flow into those who destroyed them. Mana pools are enlarged, skills are divided among those most suited for them - spells for mages, fighting styles for warriors, and so on. Due to this, official Association core cracker teams are rarely allowed to destroy more than one or two cores during their careers. An accumulation of too much power into a small group of individuals could be...volatile.

When an elder dungeon is destroyed, it's an event that can create multiple champions or Paragons in a single day. This is despite the fact that older dungeons often need much larger teams to destroy, often numbering in the dozens. Even so, the power divided is enough to alter the course of history as new noble families are born, or old enemies suddenly face a renewed threat.

Never has a dungeon such as the Great Dungeon been destroyed - and never has the power of one been divided in such a way.

Those who directly fought the dragon and their core bodyguards receive the, well, dragon's share. Beatrice primarily, but also a few of the other mortals who had fired off shots or landed brief blows suddenly find themselves being rewarded. More strangely, several of Worthy Dungeon's own guardians find themselves being empowered - not through dungeon-gifted skills, but directly, spells and techniques being etched into their minds as if they were native skills they'd spent their whole lives training. Yet more power flows to Xenia herself, thanks to traps and soulless monsters who had attacked the dragon and their guards at some point during the battle.

Yet that is not all. While not considered direct members of the Dragonlord's party, all of their soldiers and mercenaries were still part of the intrusion, part of their raid. So it is that every mortal or guardian who took part in some piece of the great battle receives something for their effort - a boost of mana, a few new tricks. All across the dungeon, from Floor Eleven to the healing clinic of Floor Five, to the tunnels below where some of the defenders and elementals still reside, people stop in shock as years worth of training are etched onto them.

It's somewhat ironic then that for all of the skills Beatrice the Dragon Slayer receives, none of them take the form of healing magic. Too unsuited for her archetype, it would seem.

Not that the best healing spell can do much when a dozen or two dragon fangs are still sticking through your midsection.

As soon as she recovers from the shock of the dungeon's dying gift however Lollyp is there, looking to do what she can. "Beatrice!? Are you still there? C'mon, you did it! You can't miss your big victory party now, can you?"

Beatrice blinks as she looks up at the slime. Her new powers do give her the strength to yet remain conscious, at least. "Lollyp? You're...looking good."

"What? Me?" Lollyp looks down at herself with a bit of confusion, and realizes what Beatrice meant. Sparks fill her transparent form, elemental energies flaring like tiny stars before fading out. Blues, greens...it hypnotizes the elementalist for a moment before she remembers what's important. "Uh, I got a boost, I guess? Doesn't matter! We gotta get you to Floor Five! Or - wait, I can bring Deylia down here!"

"Don't."

The word brings Lollyp to a halt, but her eyes ask the obvious question.

Somehow, Beatrice manages to laugh before explaining. "Ahaha...you know, I think I can feel one of my lungs is punctured? Funny that it's not making this harder. I...don't think that's going to last, though. Whatever just happened to me...this power...I don't think it's enough, and that's okay."

"How can that be okay!? C'mon, don't tell me you have a deathwish! Xenia, do something here!"

"I told Xenia this is what I want. Remember?" The warrior grins. "I think you were there. One last big battle, one final hunt...I don't want to grow old. It's not for me. Honestly? I couldn't have dreamt of a better way to go."

Lollyp swallows before changing tack. "At least give yourself to Xenia. She can make you a floor boss - or Brightsky! You could be a champion in her realm! You've got options!"

"More than she might realize."

The mage reels back to find three strangers standing behind her - or at least, two strangers and one woman she first glimpsed a brief while before. A woman with alabaster skin, and black spots across her face. Behind her stands what may be a man...although it's hard to tell, given that his form is cloaked in shadows and shifting tentacles. Opposite him stands an orc woman, but one taller and more powerfully built than any Lollyp has seen before.

"You've made quite the impression, Beatrice the Dragon Slayer." Dice smirks down at the dying woman. "Enough to have qualified for multiple Paragonhoods. I'd like to offer you one myself, but allow me also to introduce my colleagues - Garre, God of Monsters, and Erashi, Goddess of Battle."

A renewed hush falls across the arena at the sight of three divine avatars, but it's soon broken by the sound of laughter.

"The god of monsters wants me? And...I thought you couldn't normally come here? Was that a lie?"

Garre gurgles something, and Dice translates. "Offering Paragonhood is one of the few exceptions we allow. Helps motivate the other candidates to see a big flashy event, you know? But apparently Garre's impressed by your knowledge of monster lore. More of an expert than almost any Challenger around! Guess he'd like you to help encourage new generations of other dungeon delvers or some such."

"Huh." Beatrice's voice remains surprisingly calm, considering she's still trapped in the jaws of a dying dragon and bleeding out onto the floor. "Guess I can't be a Paragon of three gods at once, right?"

Erashi scoffs. "Certainly not, mortal. You must choose."

"Well..." Beatrice takes a deep breath, and this time the damage to her lungs does make her hitch a bit. "Eck. Well...guess I can tell you my choice right now, then..."

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