Sunny was not home.
He had left early in the morning, muttering darkly about inventory , supply lines, and the agonizing nightmare of running an Emporium. He had told Cielle he would be gone for at least six hours, instructed her not to interact with the oven under any circumstances, and left.
Cielle had waited exactly four minutes after the front door locked before heading down to the armored basement.
She stood in front of Sunny's sleek, expensive dreamscape pod. The digital display was dark. It looked very inviting.
Cielle raised a hand to her chest, grasping the silver pendant Saint Tyris had given her. She pushed a trickle of her dense soul essence into the Veil of the Silent Watcher.
The memory responded instantly. A ripple of cool, shimmering light cascaded over her body. The illusion took hold, overriding her physical appearance completely. The heavy, dark plates of the Mantle of the Underworld materialized over her limbs. The terrifying, three-horned wooden visage of Weaver's Mask locked over her face. The illusion was flawless; it even compressed and hid her massive wings beneath a projection of a heavy, tattered black cape.
She walked over to the polished steel wall of the dojo and looked at her reflection.
She looked exactly like Sunny did when he was being broody. The only slight difference was that the illusion couldn't entirely hide her physical height. She was a few inches shorter than Sunny, and her shoulders were narrower beneath the fake armor.
'This is acceptable,' Cielle decided, nodding at her reflection. 'Sunny shrinks when he is stressed. The internet will just assume he had a bad day.'
She climbed into the pod, settled into the gel cradle, and closed the lid.
[Enter Dreamscape?]
[Yes] [No]
Cielle mentally pressed 'Yes'.
A moment later, she materialized in the starry, infinite black void of the loading screen. The system chimed cheerfully.
"Welcome back, Mongrel. Please choose a dream of your liking."
Cielle looked at the floating options. She didn't bother checking the professional leagues or the specialized environments. She just pointed at the massive, bloody sand pit of the Colosseum. That was where Sunny went. That was where the food was.
"Challenger Mongrel has entered the Colosseum!" the sky thundered.
Cielle materialized in the center of the arena.
The reaction was instantaneous.
The Colosseum, which had been filled with the chaotic noise of clashing weapons and screaming spectators, completely froze. Hundreds of duelists stopped mid-swing. The crowd in the stands stood up. Thousands of digital eyes locked onto the dark, terrifying figure standing in the center of the blood-stained sand.
Mongrel is back, the frantic whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
Is that him?
He logged in early! Somebody start recording!
Cielle stood perfectly still, taking in her surroundings. It smelled like blood and sweat. It wasn't nearly as interesting as the real Dream Realm, but it would do.
A murmur began to spread through the closest ring of duelists.
"Wait... does he look a little different to you?" a spearman whispered to his friend.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, man. He looks... smaller? Like, less bulky?"
"Are you insane?! Look at that mask! He can probably just will his form to his desire! Don't look him in the eyes, he'll sense your fear!"
Cielle ignored the whispering. She needed a weapon. She reached into her soul sea, bypassing her usual heavy iron spear. Sunny used the Odachi form of his shadow serpent, but Cielle didn't have a giant sword. However, she knew that Sunny had switched to chains during his last session.
She summoned her chains.
With a heavy, terrifying CLANG, the massive, jagged iron links materialized, wrapping tightly around her forearms and falling heavily to the sand.
The crowd collectively gasped.
He's starting with the chains!
The Falling Heaven style! He's not even going to bother with swords today!
We are all going to die!
A heavily armored man wielding a massive war hammer stepped out of the crowd. He was shaking slightly, but he raised his hammer and pointed it at Cielle's masked face.
"Mongrel!" the man shouted, trying to sound brave. "I have studied the footage of your massacre! I have analyzed your Falling Heaven technique! I know your secret! You rely on blunt force! But my stance is unbreakable like the mountain!"
Cielle tilted her head. The man was speaking very loudly.
She remembered what Sunny had told her about his 'persona'. He had said that he was supposed to sound like a sage. He was supposed to say profound, terrifying things. Maybe he had complained about it but Cielle wanted to do a good job. She wanted to be a good Mongrel.
She searched her memory for the most profound, deeply philosophical quote she could think of. She remembered a book she had found in the Academy library about ancient warlords. There was a very famous line she liked.
"The mountain is heavy," Cielle's voice echoed out, modified by the illusion to sound exactly like Mongrel's deep tone. "But a man's heart is like a lonely swan, flying through the vast and empty sky of destiny."
The entire arena went completely silent.
The man with the war hammer froze. He lowered his weapon slightly, his face contorting in sheer, profound confusion.
"What?" the challenger asked.
Cielle waited for him to understand the depth of the quote. He did not seem to understand it.
'Perhaps he requires a more direct truth?' Cielle reasoned internally.
"Benefits are eternal," Cielle added helpfully, adopting her best menacing posture. "There are no permanent friends, only permanent benefits. I will now extract your benefits."
The man blinked, completely derailed by the sheer absurdity of the dialogue. "My... my benefits? Are you talking about my essence? Wait, what did you mean about the swan—"
Cielle didn't let him finish. Talking time was over. It was time to extract the benefits.
She didn't dash forward like Sunny did. She simply planted her feet, twisted her hips, and threw her right arm forward.
The massive iron chain lashed out like a striking viper. It didn't aim for the man's head or his chest. It whipped cleanly around his ankles. With a sharp, brutal yank, Cielle pulled her arm back.
The unbreakable stance of the mountain was instantly inverted. The man was violently yanked off his feet, flipping upside down in the air. Before he could hit the ground, Cielle whipped her left chain forward, catching him square in the chest plate while he was mid-air.
The impact sounded like a car crash. The man exploded into a shower of sparks, completely instantly eliminated.
The announcer's voice boomed: "Mongrel has won!"
The crowd in the stands erupted into absolute hysteria.
Did you hear what he said?!
The Swan of Destiny! He's ascending to a new philosophical plane!
He just called us 'benefits'! We are just resources to him! The sheer disrespect!
Cielle felt a small spark of satisfaction. She had successfully delivered a profound quote and eliminated the enemy. She was doing a great job at being Sunny. He was cuter though.
Three more challengers leaped into the ring simultaneously. They were a coordinated team, wielding a mix of shields and short swords.
"You may have broken him, Demon!" the leader shouted, raising his kite shield. "But you cannot break a unified front! Our bonds of brotherhood are stronger than your dark mind!"
Cielle looked at the three men. She analyzed their overlapping guard. It was structurally sound, but highly vulnerable to back to back attacks.
She needed another quote. Something about brotherhood.
"Brotherhood is a fragile construct," Mongrel's voice boomed over the arena. "In the face of true adversity, even the closest companions will betray each other for a single piece of premium chicken."
The three men stopped moving.
"Chicken?" the leader echoed, lowering his shield a fraction of an inch. "Did... did he just say premium chicken?"
"I think it's a metaphor for earthly desires," the second man whispered frantically. "He's testing our resolve! Don't let the poultry distract you!"
"I am the poultry of your destruction," Cielle declared, entirely losing the plot but committing to it with absolute, terrifying earnestness.
She charged.
She launched herself forward with the unstoppable force of her wings. The three men tried to brace for impact, expecting her to swing the chains.
Instead, Cielle grabbed the heavy iron links in both hands, pulled them taut like a solid bar of metal, and clotheslined the entire group at neck height.
The sheer physical strength behind the blow shattered the leader's shield, caved in the second man's chest plate, and sent the third man spinning violently into the digital sand. Two of them instantly dissolved into sparks.
The third man, gasping for digital breath, tried to crawl away.
Cielle walked over to him calmly. Her dark armor made absolutely no sound. She looked down at him through the terrifying voids of Weaver's Mask.
"Please," the man coughed. "Have mercy."
Cielle tilted her head. She searched her database for a cool Mongrel response.
"Mercy is a social construct," Cielle recited. "And I am functionally illiterate."
She brought her boot down on his helmet.
CRACK.
"Mongrel has won!"
The stands were currently losing their absolute minds. The broadcast feeds were exploding. Millions of people were currently watching a terrifying demon completely dismantle the entire concept of amateur dueling while spouting the most unhinged, confusing dialogue in Dreamscape history.
For the next three hours, Cielle remained in the Colosseum.
She did not lose a single match. She didn't even come close. She treated the elite amateurs like training dummies, testing out exactly how much force was required to shatter different types of Ascended armor.
People seemed to forget who she was, maybe due to her looks, maybe because she said nothing about it. Sunny told her to keep the aspect a secret too, but she still had two cores. She was a monster. These mongrels could not compare.
She fought dual-wielders. She fought all kinds of aspect. She fought a guy who tried to turn into a giant bear. (She threw the bear out of the arena. It was very heavy, but the swan of destiny gave her strength).
And through it all, she maintained the 'Mongrel Persona'.
"Your technique is flawed," Cielle told a defeated swordmaster as he dissolved. "You have clearly never tried to boil oil in water. It is much faster."
"Pain is an illusion," she informed a weeping spearman. "But my roommate's refrigerator bill was very real. Prepare to suffer."
"I do not fear the abyss," she declared to a horrified crowd after suplexing a man in full plate armor. "I sleep in the abyss's bed. It has very good pillows."
By the time the afternoon was over, the counter on the system had ticked up by fifty flawless victories.
Cielle was feeling very relaxed. She had extracted many benefits.