Epilog:

The dark-skinned woman sat at the café, sipping her cup of tea as she looked out at the shimmering Labyrinth entrance in the distance.

Her clothes were elegant and expensive, too nice to go unnoticed in this small Labyrinth zone town. She wore a wide-brimmed hat which covered her shoulder-length black hair and helped to obscure her features, just as she’d intended.

There was a large moose grazing out near the entrance, once with vicious scars along its side, as though it had fought a mountain lion…or a monster. Being this close to the Labyrinth, the latter was far too likely.

Godiva subtly looked around the café, not happy with all the attention she was receiving. Normally, she would have enjoyed the attention, but now, when the Wardens were keeping an eye out for her… Well, there was a good reason she’d cut and dyed her hair.

The fugitive shaper scowled, resisting the urge to reach up and touch her hair. She hated having short hair and desperately wished that she could have kept her formerly long locks. Unfortunately, her hair was far too distinctive and would have given away her identity in an instant.

Godiva subtly reached out with her presence and gently pushed the idea that she wasn’t anyone important, and that there was no reason to pay attention to her. Over the next minute, all the attention slowly shifted away from her, much to her relief.

Once Godiva was satisfied that nobody was watching, she pulled out the silver metal sphere and set it down on the table. It immediately started rolling in the direction of the Labyrinth entrance. She waited for it to nearly reach the table edge, then she snatched it back up and put it away.

“Soon,” Godiva whispered.

She’d spent the last two months keeping a low profile, avoiding any Labyrinth entrances and hoping that the Wardens would forget about her. Now, after all this time, she felt that the pressure had eased enough so that she could resume her search for her treasure.

“Raze,” she spat his name, silently cursing the man who’d betrayed their agreement. He’d promised to lead her to her greatest desire, to the immortality that had been promised. However, he’d abandoned his promise the moment he had achieved his own goal. No, even worse. He’d indicated that he was going to STREAL her prize away from her. “I’m glad he’s dead.”

She thought about her old team, all of whom were gone now. Mad Mike was the only one of them who was still alive, but he was locked up in prison and wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. As an artificer, as long as they kept him away from artifacts, he might as well not have any abilities at all.

“Too bad,” Godiva mused with a faint smirk.

There had been a time, right after everything blew up, when she’d considered trying to break Mike out, but she’d quickly discounted that idea. That would have been far too risky for her, and she didn’t think the artificer would have been useful enough to be worth it. No, it was better to find a new team. One who had absolutely no idea of who she really was or what she was after.

“That shouldn’t be much of a problem,” Godiva mused as she watched a couple players on the other side of the café. A smirk formed on her lips as she readied her presence. Once she found the right people, it would be a simple matter to convince them. “After all, I can be quite convincing when I want to be.”

----------

“Mad Mike,” the prison guard announced. “Your lunch.”

Mike looked across his small cell, to the heavy steel door that was locked and barred. The guard looked at him from a few open bars near the top, right before a tray of food was slid through a different opening. Once the guard had moved on, the artificer finally moved to get his meal.

He scowled at the idea of being trapped in prison, in a situation that was little better than solidary confinement. Players, even ones as ‘harmless’ as an artificer, were given special treatment, and not the good kind either. They were never allowed to mingle with the other prisoners.

Of course, there weren’t actually very many players locked up with Mike, and those who were, were usually either the weakest of players, or had committed small-time offences and were cooperating. Players who were considered too dangerous, were usually killed rather than captured.

Mike considered his own capture. By the time Raze had been defeated, he himself had already been badly injured and hadn’t been in any shape to escape. The fact that they hadn’t simply killed him had been a surprise. In a way, Mike was lucky to be in prison instead of the grave. He didn’t feel lucky.

“Raze,” Mike muttered, thinking of his old partner.

He would miss Raze. Not as a friend, since Raze hadn’t been, but he had been useful. Raze had protected Mike, had cleared the path of threats, and had made it possible for Mike to delve deep into the Labyrinth in search of his goals. Raze had been willing and eager to get his own hands dirty so that Mike didn’t have to.

However, Raze had also been an arrogant fool who constantly overcompensated for the unhappiness of his previous life. He had been like Jace that way, so stuck in their pasts that neither of them could focus on their future. Not like him.

Mike smiled faintly as he considered the prize he’d found inside the Labyrinth, the one that the Guide had led him to. Sure, he had’t been able to understand a word that had been written in that strange book, but he had been able to study it. With his high focus, it had been relatively simple to memorize each and every line. Once he had the opportunity to translate that writing, those mysterious secrets would be his.

“And then,” Mike whispered, his eyes burning with a fierce determination, “I will become the master of artifacts. I will create such wonders that the Helm of the Dragon will seem like a toy in comparison.”

The artificer chuckled to himself as he imagined the future he would create, one where he himself could reshape the entire world. One where his work would be as world changing as the steam engine, the automobile, and the atomic bomb. One where his name would be whispered in the same breath as those like Galileo, Darwin, or Einstein. His chuckle was a low sound that was tinged with a manic edge.

“Of course, I’ll need a new name,” he mused to himself after a minute. “Mad Mike won’t do in terms of respect. Maybe Magnificent Michael…”

He shook his head, deciding not to worry about that for the moment. There would be plenty of time to craft a new name and persona once he had everything else he needed. Until then, let the world think him mad. In time, he’d prove them all wrong.

With that, Mike glanced at the cell door to make sure there were no guards watching, then he carefully pulled out a small artifact. It was a small metal sphere, a strange bronze-colored alloy of unobtainium and something else he couldn’t identify, which was about the same size and shape as a large marble. He’d kept this artifact on him for years, carrying it in the most personal and uncomfortable of ways in case it was ever needed.

“This is my key out of here,” Mike told himself, as he did every time he needed a reminder to be patient. “I just need to wait for the right opportunity.”

Once again, his low manic chuckle filled the cell. Oh, the wonders he would create.

----------

A man slowly made his way through the Labyrinth forest, carefully looking for any signs of monsters. He didn’t see any at the moment, but that didn’t mean anything. There were always monsters.

His clothes and armor were torn and filthy, being little more than rags at this point. The dark beard on his face was unkempt and messy, while his eyes darted around with a feral madness.

Wolf growled in the back of his throat and sniffed the air. There… He smelled something. His eyes narrowed and he drew the short sword that he’d found inside of a treasure box.

The invoker stretched his arms to limber himself up for the upcoming fight, though he didn’t have much time before the monster appeared. There was only one of them and it resembled a slimy ape, but just a little smaller than a human. That made it a bit easier

Wolf growled again as he activated ‘Invocation of the Bear’, which drastically increased his strength for a short time. When the monster lunged at him, he quickly grabbed hold of it with one hand and slammed it into the ground with all the ferocity he could. Then, he held it down and used his other hand to stab the monster. The short and brutal fight was over in mere seconds.

Once Wolf was sure that the monster was dead and that no more were coming, at least not yet, he wiped off the blade and sheathed it. He took a moment to stretch his arms again, marveling at the fact that he had two of them once again.

His new arm was longer than the old one had been and a bit out of proportion. It was covered with green scales and his fingers had talons at the end. The arm looked like it belonged to a monster more than to a man, but it worked and that was all the really mattered.

Wolf chuckled to himself, thankful that he’d made a bargain with that strange lizard primal several years earlier. He could only use its power five times total, but each of those uses was invaluable. It gave him the ability to regenerate from nearly any injury, though of course, there were side effects. He wiggled his new fingers to demonstrate.

That ability was what had allowed him to survive his injuries and the fall. Even so, surviving the river had been a near miracle, and if he hadn’t eventually washed up in a safe zone, he would have been dead. As it was, it had taken him weeks to recover. Weeks of hiding in the safe zone while this new arm grew in place of his old one.

Then he shook his head, growing again as he did so. Wolf had no idea how long he’d been lost inside the Labyrinth, facing all the challenges by himself. He’d long since lost all track of time, focusing instead on surviving the moment.

Wolf felt a sense of pride at the fact that he’d survived everything that had been thrown at him, and he’d come out of it all the stronger. However, it wasn’t enough. He needed to get stronger still. The need to become more powerful burned in his guts in a way that it never had before.

Before this had all started, he’d wanted a powerful patron because that just made sense. Every player wanted powerful abilities, but invokers could actually pick and choose their patrons. Of course he wanted the most powerful one he could find. But now…

“Power,” Wolf growled.

If he’d been stronger… If he’d been more powerful, then he could have refused Raze and avoided this whole situation. He could have stopped Raze and Mad Mike from destroying the town and dragging him along with them. He could have fought back sooner…and more successfully. As he’d come to realize, the solution to all of his problems was simply to get more powerful.

With that, Wolf pulled out the silver metal sphere that was still leading him towards his ideal patron, one who could give him the power he needed. The power that he deserved. He grinned in anticipation, practically drooling at the very idea.

“It’s close,” he whispered, sniffing the air. He could feel primal magic all around him. “Very close.”

Wolf continued moving through the forest, noticing that it was becoming dark and twisted. This continued until the trees were nothing more than black husks, as though they’d been charred. The land became dead and barren. A part of him whispered in the back of his mind that this was a bad sign, but he ignored it and continued on.

Eventually, Wolf found himself staring down into a dead and blasted crater. The primal energy was strong here, nearly overwhelming. This was the place. It had to be.

Then he saw it, right in the middle of the crater. It was a large humanoid figure that appeared to be made of thick black smoke, with glowing red veins. The whole thing was bound with glowing silvery chains, which appeared to be made of primal energy, much as the figure itself was.

This was it. The primal. And it was obviously an infernal.

Wolf felt a faint chill run down his spine at the realization. Infernals were unpredictable, and often in the worst ways possible. Not that long ago, he wouldn’t even have considered making a deal with an infernal, but now… Now, he wanted the power it could give him.

The invoker carefully reached into his worn pouch and removed a stone ring, the very one that the Guide had led him to, and which he’d stolen back from Mike right before going over a cliff. This was supposed to be a key, and now, Wolf could see exactly what it was a key too.

Once again, the voice of common sense whispered in the back of Wolf’s mind, warning him that this was an extremely bad idea. However, he ignored that voice and slowly started descending into the crater.

The End?