~ Chapter 13: The shattered lie. The bleeding truth. ~

[Tuberculus’ point of view]

Yandrea brought me in a hurry to a place that was hidden deep beneath the big pyramid in the middle of her lowest most dungeon floor. There was no exit from this place, no corridor that connected it to the upper floors. It was completely disconnected from Yandrea’s Dungeon Territory, which meant that it functioned on its own Magic Energy reserves.

The walls were made out of some type of black rock that was enchanted to cool down the air and keep the heat of the underground away from the fragile items stored here. The light was dim, blue crystals acting as torches on top of the pillars. The floor was smooth and so was the ceiling; there was not even a single speck of dust to be seen, which further showed how much Yandrea cared for this place.

Initially, I was worried about where she was taking me, but I had the feeling she was not going to do anything to harm me. There were no hidden traps or monsters lurking in the darkness here. The main corridor, at the end of which I was dropped off, was connected to a big square chamber where tens of pedestals were placed. Each one of them had a single item on top of it and a blue magic crystal embedded within it.

This place is like a museum... I thought as soon as I noticed what sort of items were stored here.

Everything here was what I would consider a piece of old junk. There was a torn dirty blanket, a broken plate, the rusty blade of an old sword that was cracked in two, all sort of items here that would not be worth more than a single coperette each, but which appeared to be handled with care like priceless treasures and artifacts.

As I got closer to the pedestal with the torn dirty blanket on it, I noticed that there was a Preservation Field covering the item. The blue Magic Crystal embedded in it did not seem to power it, which means that there was another power source which was not easily visible.

Normally, an adventurer would look at these items and would disregard them immediately as junk, feeling more curious and greedier for the precious crystals within the pedestals. They would have dug them out without caring if they destroyed the item on top of it or not.

A long time ago, I would have acted the same way... I would take a hammer and chisel and dug into it until I took out the glimmering prize, but right now, I was more curious about the item on top of the pedestal.

Why are these pieces of junk treated like a treasure by Yandrea? To the point where she made such a complex structure just to hide them?... After all, this place was not made yesterday just to hide me... it looks old like a museum. I thought as I looked around.

Everything was meticulously built, every item was placed naturally as if it had a proper order based on the time when it was used, received or made.

Hoping to get more answers out of this place, I touched the Magic Crystal embedded in the middle of the pedestal. There was no reaction, but when I poured in it a little bit of Magic Energy, it started to glow, so I poured some more.

When it was filled up, something happened.

An image appeared on top of the item on the pedestal. It was a recording of someone’s memories, more specifically, Yandrea’s.

There, I saw a tiny version of Yandrea in the middle of an old dirty room with cracked pillars and walls that resembled those found within the main chamber of a newly formed Dungeon. This was the place where she first appeared, where she was born.

“I’m cold... It’s dark... I’m alone...” the tiny whimper of Yandrea’s voice could be heard coming through the recording.

Seeing her like this, I felt my heart clenching into a tight ball. I held my chest and continued to watch.

“They said I need to stay here... They say I’m bad... I’m filthy...” her little whimper continued.

She’s only a child in this memory... I know that Dungeons have different mental ages, but I always thought they were just the way they spawned. Young Dungeons would sometimes have a very mature perspective over the world or maybe... we never encountered one that was just born? Looking at Yandrea’s dungeon, if she were to have been born here... she would have needed to dig her way all the way up to the surface. I thought and then shook my head. “I should keep focus...”

My inner researcher was often pulling my mind on weird journeys. There was enough time to learn about all of this after I returned to Yandrea... or maybe after we solved her imminent surface problems.

“The other said that up there is warm... Is it warm? How does it feel like?” she wondered.

She has knowledge of the concepts of warm and cold but doesn’t know what warm feels like? I wondered and the memory then made a weird buzzing sound as it changed perspectives.

In front of her were four elves who wore expensive-looking clothes woven with gold and silver threads. Through the eyes of the young Yandrea, their Magic Energy was powerful, filling up the entire room. Among them only one elf was much weaker than the others, a young child, a little girl with curly blonde hair and bright green eyes like a couple of jade pearls.

“What is thy name, oh lowly creature that lives beneath our feet?” one of the adults asked, sending out a wave of pressure with his own Magic Energy.

Yandrea shivered under the pressure.

(What’s happening? Why are they so scawy? I don’t like scawy... *sniffle*) her thoughts were heard through the memory.

“Ye shall be under our protection, and ye shall do our bidding! What we say, it shall be ye law!” the man declared.

“I-I... understand...” she replied as she trembled under the pressure of his presence.

The memory shifted forward and the little girl was seen approaching her on another day. She brought over a pink blanket, which she gave to Yandrea.

“You said you were cold... This will help warm you up.” she showed her a bright smile and then left.

“T-Thank you.” Yandrea was really happy with this little gift.

Back then, the blanket looked much different, it was fluffy and had the design of a little bunny embroidered on it. The moment when she put the blanket on her small crystal body she felt happy.

“Is this warmth?” she wondered and then after some time passed she said “I wonder if this is how it would feel like if I had a mommy embracing me...” she then looked towards the nearby wall, where a line was translated from her memory “Upon awakening, your mother shall be there for you, to embrace you and offer you warmth.”

But she knew that no one was there to greet her. Actually, it was quite clear when looking at the state of this chamber that it was old, broken down, in other words, ancient. Yandrea simply happened to be born here, but there was no one who was waiting for her here like it was written on the walls. Many of the lines were broken from the look of it, which might have resulted in broken and damaged text, which would have left a lot of information to be free for interpretation.

The memory ended and then I saw the now dirty and worn-out blanket, ripped in several places as if it was bitten by something.

Another memory followed, and I looked at it.

It was another elf, he had bright red hair and was smirking from one ear to the other.

“Oh? I heard that mah sister gave ya something, right? It ain’t here... but, it shan’t matter anymore... Kukuku! I’m the King now! MUHAHAHA! Ye shall obey me now, slave of mine!” he shouted and pointed at Yandrea.

“W-What happened to her?” she asked out of worry.

“I am the last of mah line.” he then shot an attack at Yandrea, which immediately shattered her Magic Armor and chipped her crystal body. “Be foolish one more time, and ye shall be killed! Just like I killed mah stupid sister! KUHAHAHA! Ye should’ve seen her stupid cry! She begged me, but only one can carry the blood of royals!” he laughed.

“What? N-no... that can’t be...” Yandrea started to cry and the memory ended...

I clenched my fist.

“There are monsters like that among the royals from time to time...” I said and let out a sigh.

This was a good memory of a precious gift and a possible friend mixed in with that of tears and loss. I then looked back and wondered if by chance, a slim yet terrifying chance, all of these memories were the same as this one?

With a gulp and a clenched heart, I looked at the next memory... a pair of chains that had several links melted, broken, reforged, repaired... damaged.

The memory started with a Forglore who was bringing over a pair of chains that radiated with Magic Energy. The creature was taller than Yandrea and was emitting a powerful presence the likes of which scared her, it terrified her.

“Good, you know fear. Fear is good. This way... we can tame you better...” he declared and then used the chains as a whip.

The memory was cut off here visually, but the sounds of her screams echoed in this entire room.

“AAAH! NO!!! IT HURTS! STOP!”

Yandrea’s voice made me tremble in anger... I stopped the memory.

“Huff! Huff! Huff!” I found myself trembling and breathing hard as I desperately tried to control this anger, this fury I was sensing inside my body.

This was a familiar emotion... Years ago, when I was younger and traveling together with Nanya, I once saw her get into a fight with someone more powerful than her. Even if there was no chance of her dying, the fact that I was seeing her get hurt like that, it angered me. I wanted to jump in, to stop it from happening, but I couldn’t because I was too weak to do anything... Against someone as imposing and powerful as that Forglore from her memory... I was too weak.

After calming down, I continued to watch the memory and listened to the end of it. Yandrea was apparently the subject of experimentation through torture by the Forglore representative at that time, who used those enchanted chains to try out various techniques on her in order to get her to submit completely to them. The problem was that she had already given up and submitted to them, making his efforts nothing more than the sadistic attempts of that Forglore to hear her screaming in pain and suffering.

Later on, maybe two month or more, someone finally came and saved her from this torture. It was an elf knight who struck down those chains under the order of his king. The Forglore had overstayed his welcome and was sent back to his territory, but the damage had already been done. Yandrea was unable to build or act properly, she was constantly afraid and shivering, unable to react to the request or questions of those around her.

(It hurts... when will the pain stop... Is this real? Can’t be real... I don’t know... Why? What have I done?... Why is this happening to me?) her thoughts echoed through the broken fragments of the memory, every time, it broke my heart to hear her cries.

I honestly could not believe that a charming and energetic woman like Yandrea had such a terrible sad past.

The memory ended with the enchanted chains being tossed next to her. The chains ignited a deep fear inside her, and she immediately cast all of her spells at them. The fear shot out like lightning and only a scream of terror mixed with anger and fury could be heard as spell after spell pummeled the chains. This was how they gained their current form... Their shattering was the moment when Yandrea took back her freedom from the torture, but also the moment when I felt like she changed forever...

(No more no more no more no more no more... no more pain... just for them... for them... I have to make them... I have to... make them... suffer...) was her last thought as the image showed the three representative of the upper kingdoms: a Forglore, a Negvar Elf, and a Reiss.

The memory was over...

“So much pain... behind what looked like just any other weird chain...” I said as I looked at this unremarkable piece of metal.

If I did not see this memory, if I did not hear her screams then I would have foolishly thought that it was impossible for someone as powerful as a Godlike Dungeon to have gone through such a terrible past. Actually, this was my biggest gripe with this whole thing...

Yandrea was a Godlike Dungeon, one of the most powerful individuals of her kind who only appeared in legends that described them as the most terrifying and powerful entities the likes of which even the Gods had to work together in order to defeat. Apostles and Supremes were their usual opponents and even then they were not enough and required some sort of miracle to make them able to stand face to face against an opponent like that. Not all the legends spoke of their success, there were many that regarded the Godlike Dungeons as winners who then walked off on their own to never be heard of again. These stories and tales were all from the three continents and not from the books I found in this place.

Actually, there was little to no information about other Godlike Dungeons like her. Maybe it was intentionally made this way in order to protect me from the Upper Kingdoms?

With a heavy heart, I continued to look through those memories, I was determined now to find how her childhood went... how her teenage years passed... and how she ended up as the woman I got to know now.

[Several hours latter...]

The final memory was before me, and the haggard look on my face told the story of the horrors I got to witness... Happy memories? No... these things... they were nightmares, traumas. One after another, those bastards Forglore, Reiss, and Negvar Elves were dangling the carrot in front of her face, disguised as a friend, as a good deed, as a gift, or a promise, only to then show her the stick and the heel of their boots.

I cried when she cried...

I felt hurt when she felt hurt...

I felt my sense of justice and all the strength I gained so far to be as useless as a Beginner Magic Armor in front of a Supreme’s spell. I could not stop the incoming attack. I could not defend myself against it, but the worst part was to realize that what I was feeling was nothing more than a fraction of what she might have felt back then.

After finishing with all of these memories, fragmented as they were, they left a big impact on me, and they were able to show me the true her, the Yandrea I had never seen before, the fragile creature who hid herself in front of me under the disguise of a powerful and domineering being... One against which I would not dare to go against, after all... there was quite an assortment of unscrupulous individuals in her memories she could take a note or two from if she wanted to, right?

Yet, despite the enormous power Yandrea possessed as a Godlike Dungeon, she had little to no faith in her own abilities and powers... She saw herself as weak and the others always made it so that it was an undeniable proof.

Halfway through watching these memories, I simply gave up on trying to resist all the anger and pain I felt... I became numb to her suffering because I knew that I simply had neither the power and ability to understand it all nor a way to make it stop, to save her from that torture.

It made me wonder. Just how powerful Yandrea had to be in order for her to resist for so many years without even once contemplating suicide.

“If it was me, I wouldn’t have been able to do it... I simply would not have had the power... the strength to go on in a world where my friends were illusions, my allies were phantasms created by others to fool me... and in which my own choice was to be at the mercy of everyone around me... A world of slavery and torture in which I could not even begin to dream to grow strong and powerful... independent… free…” I said as I approached the last room.

At the entrance, on the right, a metal plaque had two words inscribed on it: My Dream.

I stepped inside, wondering what I could find.

It was an ordinary room. A bed in the middle, with a desk next to it. A blue crystal lamp was lighting up the place, and on the far side, I saw an empty crib for a baby. There were two memories here. One next to the bed and one next to the crib.

I knew that these two should involve individuals and situations from the past which started off with the prospect of a positive emotion and then ended with a torrent of sadness and suffering.

Looking at the one by the bed, I held my chest and thought What if this one is about her past lover? I then looked at the one by the crib and walked up to it. Did she have a child before? I wondered and hesitantly touched it.

The memory started to play... a lullaby echoed in the room, the sweet voice of Yandrea.

Hush little baby, it’s time to sleep...

Sweet and happy dreams are yours to keep!

Hush little baby, it’s time to dream...

About all the joy and beauty you’ve seen!

Then when you’ll wake up to the morning sun

Tell all your stories to your mum!

After all the darkness I witnessed, I did not think that I would get to hear such a beautiful voice. It was soothing the pain in my heart with every verse. The melody was gentle, her voice flowed sweet like nectar, and the shadows around me danced like puppets in a show for children. Closing my eyes, I could imagine myself standing in a grassy field on a warm spring day, watching the flowers bloom around me and then Yandrea embracing me from behind. It was a sweet image but then the cruel reality struck.

The one she was singing this gentle lullaby to was not a flesh and blood child but a wooden doll the size of a baby wrapped up in a white sheet. The room was none other than this one, yet her voice and actions were no different from those of a real mother. The way she gently placed the doll in the crib, the way she looked at it, the way she sang to it... if you closed your eyes, you could see her holding a real baby, her own, not a fake one.

I watched Yandrea as she put the wooden doll to sleep and then took a step back from it. Although she did not have a human body in this memory, the way she used the [Telekinezy] spell, the dexterity and form could have fooled even me that she had an actual pair of arms.

Through this memory, I watched as she turned around and looked towards an empty room then towards the many memory pedestals there. She approached them and then let out a deep sigh.

“Is it wrong of me to hope? To wish... to feel love and be loved? Is it wrong of me... to find freedom from this torture?” she then looked up at the ceiling “Those in the upper kingdoms can enjoy the pleasure of having a family, the joy of friendship, the kindness of others... while I am fated to remain here at the bottom of the world... fated to only dream and imagine... as such things are forbidden to me by them...” she then closed her eyes. “How funny it is... my dream... is silly... I just want a family... I want friends... and just to be happy... not the monster that I am now...”

The memory ended, and I took a step back.

“It’s not a silly dream... it’s a normal one... ordinary even... but you didn’t even have part of such a simple thing, right?” I said as I looked back at all of her memories.

There was not even a single happy one that was not ruined in some way or another by those living on the surface.

I then turned my attention towards the last pedestal in this depressive underground memory palace.

Walking slowly, I approached it and placed my hand on it. After injecting my Magic Energy in the crystal, I saw the memory starting to form little by little and revealed... a strange moment.

“Eh? What is this? An... elf? But here? It’s an untested part of my dungeon. No one should be here! What should I do? Should I go call a slave? No... no... they will think this is my fault... then kill him? Yes... I can kill him and...” at that moment, something caught her attention.

Far off, at the end of the corridor was a black cat... She let out a single meow and then turned around to leave.

“Huh? Wait~! What sort of fluffy cute creature are you?!” Yandrea called out as she dashed towards the cat, but upon reaching the intersection, the cat was gone.

The furry feline was nowhere to be seen, and she could not detect her even with her unique life-detection sense. Feeling a bit sad, she returned to me. I was unconscious.

“What should I do with you? Well... killing you...” she then looked back at where the cat was, and after a moment of staring into empty space, she said “maybe not?”

I found her reaction to be strange. At first, everything pointed out towards her trying to end my life as soon as she laid eyes on me. Judging by what her previous memories told me, that should have been the case, or maybe just hand me over to the Slaves to be brought over to the surface kingdoms. However, the moment she noticed that feline, she stopped and seemingly changed her mind entirely. Something happened at that time, something that I could not explain but which certainly led to her having second thoughts about me... I would even be so bold as to say that the mysterious black cat saved my life at that time... but how?

If only there were some thoughts of hers recorded from that time...

The memory continued, and I saw the scene that I was familiar with, the moment when she asked me to be her husband. Even if I had not replied back then, knowing Yandrea, she could have healed me rather easily or at the very least kept me alive until I recovered my consciousness, but then... would I have replied as easily as I did back then?

Honestly, there was no easy way to answer this question. Back then and even now I was not that captivated or enamored by her to instantly reply yes without a single doubt. My love… our love was being tested even at this moment and ours… had yet to bloom. A sense of duty, an unfathomable curiosity… an unknown attraction that made my heart skip beats was what kept me here by her side. For some reason, I did not want anything bad to happen to her. I wanted to see her smile so all of these memories that showed her in pain, suffering, losing, unhappy… they pained me. I hated them. I did not want to see Yandrea tormented like that… but what could I do? I was helpless towards changing the past. If I could… I would have done it. I would have done my best to stop all those monsters from tormenting her.

Pulling myself back from this cascade of memories, I continued to watch this fragment of her past.

As soon as she pulled me inside her Inner Mind, Yandrea said something... strange?

“Even if I have to start slaughtering all of them... and die trying, I would still do it as long as he loves me and only me... and stays with me and becomes mine... only mine...”

I furrowed my brow and wondered just what sort of thought process could have led to her saying this.

Unlike other memories that had all their thoughts recorded, this one was visibly missing quite a few sequences... or rather most of the essential ones? What could have been so important that she decided to skip over it? Was she worried that the information might fall into someone’s hand and then use it against her?

This had me worried, but I continued to watch the memory...

Unlike my initial expectations, however, she did not just wake me up as soon as she healed me. She kept me inside her Inner Mind, watching over me, analyzing me. She read my books and everything that I had brought with me inside my Storage Crystal. She talked to me while I was unconscious, but she was just talking about her day and her usual silly things like a friend would.

Time moved forward in the memory, stopping at one day, when she entered her Inner Mind and started to cry.

“Why? Why? Why? WHY?!” Yandrea screamed and although I could not see her body, I could somehow still feel her pain “They always say such hateful things to me... I know I’m weak... I know I have no choice... and I know that if they had the possibility they would have erased my mind and personality... keeping me as an obedient crystal that just followed their orders... their commands... I know I hate it... but what can I do against them? I can’t do anything!” she cried and then flew away from me and all the way down to this room.

Down here, looking around, she began to speak “Every time... they ask me to be something I’m not... Every time... they speak to me as though I’m someone below them, someone who should only obediently follow their orders like their women and daughters do... I have to be what they want me to be... not whom I want to be. Yet...” she stopped at the memory when she expressed her rage for the first time and destroyed an adventurer. “I killed him... I ripped him to shreds... just as I would have done to this entire dungeon if I could...” she looked up “This is their creation... not mine... this is a prison for me... a true dungeon.” she scoffed and then played the memory of the time when she raged.

What happened back then was that an adventurer found her first pet, a Dayuk pup, and although she specified that he should not be touched or harmed... that elf tortured the poor little animal until he died yelping in pain... All this time, a nearby Slave was laughing and mocking her. How I wish I could I have been there to stab those two to death...

I was beginning to wonder if the kingdoms on the surface of Negvar Elves, Forglore, and Reiss were nothing but a gathering of criminals and despicable bastards, but... the truth was that there were some of them who were decent. Among the memories Yandrea possessed there were many who tried to offer her a helping hand, but nobody was able to reach her because the others stood in their way. At every corner on the way, at every turn, behind every door, these monsters were waiting for them. They were the ones who killed them and slowly made Yandrea think that it was wrong of her to reach out for help to others. She was slowly being eaten from inside out by these worms... by these horrible ideas and thoughts they planted in her head.

Yandrea was not like them... she was a Godlike Dungeon.

Yandrea was not a man... so those Kings, Princes, and nobles felt entitled in front of her.

In their eyes, she was always below them.

They had the right to order her around, to dictate her life... she had the right to obey, otherwise... there was a punishment.

For obvious reasons, however, it was clear that there was no recording of the said punishment. Who would want to remember something like that?

Starting from an innocent little girl... over the decades and then centuries, Yandrea’s mind started to warp and change until it was unrecognizable. Her mind, right now, from what I had gathered... was fragmented and desperately trying to hold itself together so that whatever she feared would never surface.

This was the reason why she kept ignoring me when I got close to a sensitive subject. This was the reason why the so-called rebellion in the settlements felt like a massively orchestrated theatrical play which she fully ignored. This was the reason why I felt that she was distant from me... yet desperately trying to get closer to me...

As the memory continued, I saw that she woke me up several months after she picked me up. The reason why she made me younger was because she did not want me to resemble the aged men above the surface who kept ordering her around, the kings and nobles. As for the beard, she was reminded of the old researchers who subjected her to painful experiments when they tried to subjugate her in her younger days. What came out of that torture, I had no idea...

The memory ended with me waking up and a single thought to be heard: Meeting you was and probably forever will be the happiest moment of my life no matter what the future has to offer... Even if I am shattered tomorrow... what I felt back that, when you said ‘yes’... I will always treasure it.

“Yandrea... you...” I said and then wiped off a tear.

Those words pulled all the right chords inside my heart. After all, before today... I never really thought that Yandrea had any major problems or was suffering of anything... I could NOT believe that a powerful and perfect Godlike Dungeon like her would have anyone or anything to trouble her... I could not imagine that so much suffering, loss, and pain was hidden behind the cute appearance of a pink-haired elf with a soft spot for fluffy and cute animals. Was that how she hid it all? How she ran away from the pain? Why she was terrified of losing me if by chance the surface dwellers discovered me?

 Unable to find an answer and with my mind going in circles, I laid down next to the bed and continued to think back at all those memories she kept here.

Encased within a tomb of darkness laid a beautiful flower. This was how it would be best to describe these memories. There was not even the smallest doubt that they could be fake either. Such a complex magic to be used only to fool me was unnecessary... There were other ways and many more powerful spells a Dungeon could use to either brainwash me or make me believe something else... This entire place was the true museum, not the fancy one up there...

Memories with just a glimpse of a happy moment that was then crushed to smithereens by the greed, hate, jealousy, or stupidity of those who lived on the surface. They created their society around mentally dominating and subjugating Yandrea. They made her believe that she was weak, that was she was incapable of fighting back, when in fact, it was not at all true. If she died or if she pulled back her Dungeon Territory, this entire place would fall like a house of cards. The monsters would spill out of the dungeon and would kill anything in their path. Yandrea was maintaining this fragile ecosystem and was the sole pole of resistance that made sure the kingdoms above remained as they were... prosperous and arrogant.

“What am I to do with you... Yandrea?” I let out a sigh and looked up at the ceiling.

I felt tired from everything that I had seen and heard today... I did not even know what to feel anymore and how to look at her... It felt as though my own heart was being restrained by invisible chains because I simply could not see the real her... This was the reason why I hesitated to fall in love with Yandrea... our relationship was built upon lies, but in here... in this room... when she returned... there was a chance, slim as it might have been, to start anew.

At the very least, I knew for certain now that Yandrea was not a monster nor a perfect being… she was a delicate flower that bloomed in a field of glass. She got cut, scratched, pushed, shoved, trampled upon… and yet… she still tried to retain her color and bloom out… to reach out and find the sun.