The slim crevice quickly expanded into a large cavern. Glowing vines hung from the roof and curled around stalagmites, illuminating the caverns a soft blue. Ornamental carvings decorated the sides of the walls. The majestic sight made Tim’s heart flutter. This was what adventuring was all about.

“I wonder what the artifact ability will be,” said Spoofus. “You said it would be at least legendary, right?”

“Yep,” said Bona Fide.

“Hard to find a legendary item in an area under level 50. How’d you know it was here?” asked Spoofus.

Bona Fide shrugged and nodded his head backwards to Tim, who lagged behind the two. “He’s the one who came to me about it. Ask him.”

Spoofus raised a brow at Tim.

“It’s nerd stuff,” said Tim. “I’ve been monitoring the patterns of this dungeon for some time. All dungeons seem to follow a type of loot pattern, so I’m just predicting that a legendary item will spawn here today.It’s not guaranteed. Um. Do either of you two want a snack?” Tim pulled some jerky out of his inventory.

Spoofus wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like to eat food that’s been in another man’s body.”

“What about a woman’s?” asked Bona Fide, elbowing the mage.

“Now that depends squarely on the visual qualities of the broad,” said Spoofus. The two men smirked and snorted at the joke.

The blue light hid Tim’s flushed face.

Harbiter emerged from a tunnel. Dead end. No adventurers inside. She wracked her brain as she walked, trying to figure out where they could be. Bona Fide was level 57 last time she saw him, which limited the difficulty options some. And she knew that Misery went to a higher level area to her… Knowing these didn’t narrow it down much. She sent Misery another text.

Harbs: Send me your location tag.

Harbs: 1 teleport left, need time to get there.

Harbs: Pretty please with a cherry on top?

She looked at the spear she had been carrying with her and scoffed, chucking it to the ground. It was unwieldy and annoying to keep track of the long pole. 

Rangers used ranged weapons, fighters used melee weapons, and mages often didn’t need any weapons at all. The support class was probably closer to the mage class than the other two, but it lacked damage dealing skills. Ergo, she needed some kind of weapon.

Harbiter reached into her chest and pulled out a knife, tossing it in her hand to assess the balance. Simple. Elegant. Not good enough. Her hand clenched around the handle.

A crackling noise drew her attention and she spun around. The path behind her was gone, trees and foliage sprouted from where she had just been. As the day went on, the pathways through the dungeon would shift, making it harder and harder for her to reconvene with Misery. Gosh, why did she even let him separate from her? She shot him a few more messages:

Harbs: How long are you going to be radio silent?

Harbs: I’ll buy you a DLG pizza.

Harbs: Offer expires in exactly 10 seconds.

Harbiter ducked into a clump of bushes and switched into her civilian class. Ironically it would be quicker and safer for her to traverse the forest this way—the monsters wouldn’t target someone of a higher level. It limited her access to skills though. As a civilian, her only skills were her unique teleport ability and her passive.

Cleo paused in front of a fork in the path and thought for a moment. Was she really going to run around the forest as a civilian chasing down Misery? She knew Bona Fide was guilty, why not just let her partner do the dirty work? But she didn’t believe that he was guilty. The crux of the issue.

But what was Cleo going to do if she did find them? Confront Bona Fide as herself? Transform into Hero Arbiter? Either way, she would be compromising her identity, and would have the same issue as before. Every time she confronted him, he convinced her of his innocence. How could she counter that?

Cleo checked her phone. Not a lot she could do when her partner wasn’t playing partner. She held it to her side and looked up to the sky for a long moment, breathing in the fresh, chilly air. Her internal flames sweltered as she pondered the situation more. Was this Misery’s way of having fun? Making a fool out of her?

With each breath she took, the fires billowed higher and hotter, until finally she couldn’t handle keeping the heat inside. She texted him again:

Harbs: You know what?

Harbs: Do whatever the fuck you want.

Harbs: I don’t want to play your stupid games.

Harbs: Consider this partnership dissolved.

She tapped the period key forcefully, before hitting send. She immediately received a reply in the form of several messages at once.

Misery: Oh hey, I just realized you can share locations

Misery: [Misery shared a location pin]

Misery: Pretty nifty

Misery: Bet you didn’t realize your pardner was a tech guru

Misery: Hey u might want to get your butt over here

Misery: Shit is going down

Misery: They got their loot but now mage and Bonny are duking it out

Misery: Oof Bonny killed mage

Misery: Ranger concealed, Bonny looking for him

Misery: Shoulda brought popcorn

Misery: U close?

Misery: Bad reception ig

Misery: Ima kill Bonny send you the audio later

Misery: That’s ok right? I got you evidence that he’s a baddie

Misery: Does this Misery gets head pats? :3

Her fire sputtered out like a wet firecracker. The newest text was from ten minutes ago, and it was evident that he had been messaging her for some time before that. She watched the screen with dread as a new line emerged:

Misery: [typing]...

Fuck. Why was she so stupid? What could she say? “Oops nevermind. Forget about that last text. I’ve just been seething with anger for the last half hour because I don’t trust you.” If anything, Misery was the one being partnerly.

She gingerly headed towards his coordinates, feeling her stomach shrink with every step. The three dots pulsed tauntingly on her phone screen, but no message came. She turned the ringer on and pocketed her phone.

The forest trail opened up into a rocky clearing. Jeweled toads croaked at her as she passed. One yawned lazily, smoke drifting from its huge mouth. She walked past a single bat. It idled in place, flapping its wings as if it couldn’t even see her. What was the purpose of its existence? Was it just to be killed for EXP?

Not relevant now.

The mouth of the cave was thin and tall. Footsteps sounded quietly from within. She approached, apology forming on her lips. A man emerged.

“Cleo?” the ranger stepped back, shocked.

“Tim?” She realized with a moment of panic that she was still in civilian form--she had completely forgotten to switch back. She glanced the ranger up and down, then walked past him, towards the cave.

“Hey, wait!” called Tim.

“I’ve got things to do,” said Cleo. 

“Don’t you think we should talk?”

Cleo spun around. “About what? Ben and Hugo? What do you want me to say? I’m sorry for killing your idiot psychopathic friend?”

“I understand why you did it,” said Tim. “Hugo wasn’t really a good person. I don’t have good luck with friends”

“You and I both.”

“My newest friend just killed my other newest friend,” said Tim. “And now he wants to kill me.”

“Maybe pick better friends,” Cleo suggested glibly. 

“Okay.” Tim extended a hand, his smile as radiant as the rising sun. The hand was calloused and covered in dirt. “You’re a good person, right?”

Did Tim not realize that she was an even worse choice than his previous companions? How could he so easily forgive?

Cleo placed her hand lightly into his, mesmerized by this show of grace. He gripped it tightly, and broadened his grin.

A shining barrier flashed between them.

The tension of his arm disappeared.

His body fell away from her, and his now freed limb drooped into her grasp. Cleo hastily let go of the detached arm.

Tim screamed as the streak of metal glid through his neck. His head fell onto the rocks below him, hitting the gravel with a sickening crunch.

Misery turned to her, his cheeks and eyes rounded unnaturally with elation. “Sorry you had to see that Miss. I got my hit, but you might not want to stick around. I’m in a fucking bad mood.” 

He walked a few steps away, tossing his machete to the side. With two fingers, he tugged a glove off, tossing it away as well, and pulled out his phone. He hummed a gleeful folktune as he tapped the device. Cleo’s own phone jingled in her pocket. She pulled it out, hands trembling.

Misery: Looks like someone missed me

Misery: Wanna talk?

Misery: [Misery attached an audio file].

Misery: Where art thou?

Smoke rose from the deceased ranger in delicate wafts, forming thin, quivering pillars that seemed to reach upwards into the darkening, pink sky. It must have been an illusion, perhaps remnants from all the monsters that had died here. 

Misery pulled out a card and a pen, scribbled his signature frown, and tossed it forcefully towards Tim’s body. It embedded into the ranger’s arm. Cleo blinked. It almost looked like smoke was emanating from the new laceration.

“You still here?” Misery raised a brow at Cleo. He looked down at her hands, which gripped her phone through white, scarred knuckles. He squinted, as if only now bothering to process her appearance. Then his eyes widened, and his stupid grin evaporated. “Harbs?”