Prototype's Gate

Alex approached Lilimila and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, feeling her slight, almost ghostly shudder under his touch. She flickered for a moment, as if still shaken by her ordeal.

“Good job,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth and gentleness that caught even himself off guard. He’d known that out of everyone, Lilimila would have the hardest time facing her nightmare, and he was proud of her for making it through.

Lilimila took a deep breath, letting the tension melt from her body. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I just… did what felt right.”

Alex gave a small nod, his eyes softening. “Now, can you turn around so I can heal your back?”

She hesitated, but then turned, revealing the claw marks left by the nightmare. Alex held his hands above her wounds, and a warm, golden-silver light emanated from his palms, casting a gentle glow over her. As the light touched her wounds, she felt the warmth seep through her skin, soothing not only the aches and scratches but something deeper inside her—a quiet, painful memory softened, healed.

Lilimila’s eyes closed, her breathing slowed, and for a few moments, she found herself drifting on the verge of sleep, the healing bringing a rare, unexpected peace. When Alex finished, he let her know with a quiet, “I’m done.”

She startled slightly, blinking back to reality, almost as if she’d been dreaming. She reached for her back, surprised to find that not only were her wounds healed, but her clothes, too, had been restored as if untouched. “Even my clothes are fixed… Thank you,” she whispered, looking at him with a mixture of gratitude and awe.

Alex gave her shoulder a reassuring pat, then moved on to the others who had regrouped, surveying each of them. Lilimila’s eyes lingered on his retreating form, her hand unconsciously moving to her chest as she felt her heart skip a beat. 'Had he always been this warm?' she wondered, feeling a strange new admiration bloom within her.

Alex’s gaze swept across his companions—Tav, Shadowheart, Astarion, Gale, Lae'zel, Glut, Karlach—and finally settled on Wyll. Wyll looked back at him with an intensity Alex rarely saw in him.

“You knew,” Wyll said, his tone a mixture of accusation and reluctant understanding. “You knew exactly what would happen the moment we set foot in this damned forest.”

Alex nodded once, letting Wyll’s words sink in. His gaze dropped to the ground, his shoulders tense with the weight of realization. “You wanted to test us… no, to make us stronger,” Wyll continued, casting a glance at Lae'zel, who stood tall, her psionic blade still gripped firmly, and at Shadowheart, whose psionic mirror was now whole.

Alex spoke calmly. “Everyone’s psionic abilities are tied to the mind. The stronger the mind, the stronger the abilities,” he explained. Lae'zel gave him a respectful nod, and Shadowheart offered a small, appreciative smile, both clearly changed by what they’d faced.

Alex turned his attention to Gale and Astarion. “And some of you learned your abilities are not just weapons for attack. They can protect.”

Astarion looked back at him, bemused, his brow furrowed. Alex could sense that Astarion’s mind was still grasping the revelation, that he was only now beginning to understand. “What do you mean? Didn’t you see how I crushed that nightmare? That looked offensive enough to me,” Astarion said, a smirk playing on his lips, his usual bravado trying to mask his confusion.

Alex’s gaze softened, an almost amused glint in his eyes. “Your abilities… they shield your mind, Astarion. They protect you as much as they let you fight it.”

Astarion’s eyes flickered, realization dawning in the depths of his crimson gaze. It was as if a candle had been lit in a darkened room. He paused, then that familiar cocky grin returned, lighting up his face. “Well, of course. I am amazing, am I not?” he said, laughter in his voice, but beneath it, there was the faintest tremor—perhaps gratitude, or maybe relief.

“The rest just needed to realize how strong they really are,” Alex said, his gaze sweeping over Glut, Karlach, and Tav.

Tav met his eyes and gave him a broad, genuine smile—gone was the shadow that had clung to him . Alex saw the same fire in Tav’s eyes that he’d seen the very first time they met, reignited, as if his spirit had been set ablaze once more.

Karlach grinned and threw him a playful thumbs up, the lighthearted gesture a contrast to the rough path they’d taken to get here.

Glut gave a small, solemn nod of acknowledgment . 'I need to speak with you after this mission is done', Glut’s voice echoed in Alex’s mind.

Just then, Wyll’s quiet voice broke the moment. “And I’m the only one who failed,” he muttered, his shoulders hunched, disappointment heavy in his voice.

Before Alex could respond, Karlach stepped in, looping a comforting arm around Wyll’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, love,” she said softly, her tone carrying both warmth and the fierce loyalty that was so distinctly Karlach.

Shadowheart nodded in agreement, her gaze gentle. “Karlach is right. All you can do is learn from it and keep moving forward,” she added, her words laced with a quiet wisdom.

Wyll didn’t respond verbally, but he managed a small, appreciative nod, still looking at the ground, the weight of his self-doubt lingering like a shadow. The others fell silent, each respecting his moment of introspection.

After a pause, Gale spoke up, his voice thoughtful yet calm. “Perhaps I could help you face your fears…by reliving what you faced today .” he offered, summoning his psionic tome.

But he hesitated as he caught sight of Lilimila, a fleeting worry passing over his face. With a respectful glance at her, he banished the tome back into the recesses of his mind, shifting his focus.

“After we’ve rescued little Valni,” he added, his tone gentle but determined.

Each of them was different now, Alex realized, hardened but also healed in ways he hadn’t expected. This forest, with all its haunting illusions, had revealed their deepest fears and insecurities, and yet they had faced them and won , almost everyone.

Guided by Alex's psionic compass, the group pressed on, navigating the eerie forest that began to morph around them. Where once gnarled branches stretched like skeletal hands, now lush foliage bloomed, vibrant green and alive, as if the darkness had been banished. They glanced back, only to find that the sinister forest they had trudged through was gone, erased as though it had never existed.

After a while, Astarion's sharp eyes caught something odd. "I swear I’ve seen that stump before," he murmured, pointing to a twisted, weathered stump jutting from the earth. The others turned, recognizing it instantly.

"Tsk.This realm is intolerable," Lae'zel scoffed, her voice filled with frustration.

“Wait here,” Alex said, urgency in his voice as he moved ahead, disappearing into the thick foliage. They listened intently, feeling a strange tension build around them, until, unexpectedly, the soft sound of footsteps came from behind. They turned to see Alex running back toward them, his face marked with determination.

"The space here warps itself in loops,” he explained, his voice low but steady. “But I’ve got a solution. Come closer."

He took a deep breath, his insides shifting as he activated his sussur tree ability and drawing on the power of the orb nested in his chest. A field of anti-magic pulsed out from him, invisible but undeniable, an energy they could feel pressing gently on their skin.

Gale raised an eyebrow, casting Alex an impressed look. "An anti-magic field," he murmured, recognizing the technique immediately. “That should disrupt the enchantments twisting this space and allow us safe passage.”

Lilimila watched, her eyes wide with awe. "I hope this works. We must hurry and save Valni."

A soft chuckle escaped Astarion's lips, making her glance over in confusion. "I always find your kind amusing," he said cryptically.

Lilimila frowned. "What exactly do you find amusing?"

But Astarion merely smirked and walked ahead, leaving her scowling after him. "Arsehole," she whispered under her breath, earning a quiet laugh from Shadowheart.

"Don’t mind him," Shadowheart said reassuringly. "That’s just Astarion being… Astarion."

As they marched on, the oppressive gloom of the swamp lifted, and the dim light gave way to something beautiful yet surreal. They stepped into a meadow, carpeted with delicate wildflowers, and soft, pale moonlight spilled over a bizarre sight: dozens of beds strewn across the field. Some had wooden frames worn by time, others were of wrought iron, intricate and curving, while a few boasted ornate golden bedknobs glinting in the moonlight. And in each bed lay a sleeping figure, bodies that rose and fell gently as they dreamed under a sky untouched by stars.

Above each sleeper hovered a massive, blood-red poppy, its velvety petals dropping golden pollen over the dreamers like a soft veil. The scene was serene, yet something about it felt unsettling.

Alex spotted her first—Valni, lying in one of the beds, her face peaceful as she slept. Lilimila gasped and started forward, but Alex quickly held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks. "Look closely," he whispered, his voice laced with caution.

Lilimila squinted, peering into the scene. That’s when she saw them—tiny, winged beings flitting between the beds, their eyes darting upward as if sensing the intruders. Their attention was unmistakably fixed on Alex and the others.

Then, the meadow seemed to shiver, the flowers bending as if in reverence. Emerging from the poppies, a massive figure took form, both beautiful and intimidating, like something pulled from the depths of a fevered dream. Equal parts humanoid and insectoid, her limbs were delicate yet deadly, elongated and covered in scales that shimmered with a mesmerizing iridescence. From her back spread wings as radiant as a moth’s but with a sheen like midnight velvet, and at the end of her abdomen curved a wicked stinger.

The creature’s lips curled into a warm welcoming smile, her gaze sweeping over them with amusement.

Her eyes, shimmering like polished obsidian, held an unnerving calm as she regarded them.

"Welcome, travelers," she said, her tone warm. "I am Queen Plea, ruler of this colony of Pleasantries. Tell me, what business brings you to my meadow?”

Alex felt Lilimila tense beside him, saw her mouth open as if to answer, then close just as quickly, her gaze drifting back to him for guidance. He could sense her hesitation, her fear that any wrong word might set off something irreversible.

So he stepped forward, choosing his movements carefully. With a small bow, he lowered his head slightly, not out of submission but as a gesture of respect—whether or not this queen deserved it was beside the point. Every inch of him remained tense, ready to spring if necessary, yet his voice came out calm, almost gentle.

“My name is Alex," he said, meeting the queen’s gaze. "My friends and I have come to retrieve someone who belongs with us—a young girl by the name of Valni." His eyes shifted toward the sleeping child, her face peaceful as if lost in the softest of dreams. "She means a great deal to us. Please, let us take her home.”

Queen Plea's expression softened. Her wings fluttered gently, catching the moonlight. “Oh, I am so sorry, dear Alex,” she said, her voice almost a caress. “But that can’t happen. You see, Valni belongs here now. She is one of my cherished dreamers, part of this beautiful world we’ve created together. Taking her away would be… so unkind.”

As Alex looked at Valni, torn between pulling her from the dream’s hold and leaving her in peace, Queen Plea’s voice filled the meadow, calm but unyielding.

“I understand your struggle, Alex,” she said, her tone almost sympathetic. “But you must realize that these dreamers are bound not by chains or spells, but by the comfort we offer them—a rest from lives that often gave them little else.”

Alex’s jaw tightened, and he squared his shoulders. “They didn’t choose this. No matter how pleasant their dreams may be, it’s still a cage.”

Queen Plea’s expression softened once more, though her resolve remained. “And I suppose you, too, did not choose to live in a world of hunger, sickness, and suffering, yet there it is. You see only a violation, but to us, this is an act of mercy. We choose carefully, bringing only those with lives burdened by hardship. Here, they are granted peace.”

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes. “But it’s not real. They’re living in an illusion while their families, their friends, are left behind, wondering what happened to them.”

The Queen sighed. “I understand how it may seem from your perspective, but imagine it as you would your own livestock. Do your people not keep cattle, care for them, feed them, and—when the time is right—use them to sustain yourselves? You find it reasonable, natural even, yes? Then why is our way of life so offensive to you?”

“It’s different!” Karlach snapped. “These are people, with loved ones, with futures. They’re not resources to be harvested.”

Queen Plea’s gaze hardened for the first time. “Be that as it may, we have little choice in the matter. We are not beasts that take without thought; we are beings who take with purpose. And we do not see ourselves as monsters. To force us to forgo sustenance it's not possible so pleass leave. We will fight to the death if necessary. ”

Queen Plea straightened, her words firm. “This is the only offer I am willing to make. Do not think you can release these dreamers one by one, waking each and asking if they would prefer to leave. Such a disruption is unthinkable—it would tear apart the balance we’ve fought so hard to create here. We will not stand idly by as you meddle with our ways.”

“Then you’d force them to stay asleep, just as much as we might force them awake?” Gale asked, voice laced with bitterness.

The Queen’s gaze softened once more. “You see, we’re not so different after all. I would protect my colony, my dreamers, just as you would protect your friends. I do not wish to fight you, but if you insist on disturbing them, I will do what I must to defend my people.”

The choice hung heavy in the air, with each side standing resolute. The dreamers’ fates now rested in the party’s hands—whether to accept the Queen’s compromise and leave, or to challenge her and risk a clash that would disrupt the lives and dreams of all those under her care.

'I could kill them all,' Alex thought, his gaze flicking over the swarm of humanoid insects that buzzed before them. 'But something feels... off.'The thought lingered like an echo in his mind, a sensation tugging at his conscience. 'Why do I care if they live or die?'

A faint smile tugged at his lips. 'Maybe I've changed more than I thought.'

'Just kill the damn bugs already and let’s get out of here,'Glut growled, his voice harsh and impatient. 'And stop grinning like a fool.'

Alex’s smile faded, but not because of Glut's complaint. His sharp eyes caught movement in the shadows, a figure emerging from the haze, drawing closer with each step. "What is that?" Kalrach whispered, her voice tight with tension, her grip tightening around her weapon. The rest of the party doing the same.

Alex’s gaze hardened. "That's... the Conqueror."

The figure loomed out of the darkness, wreathed in shadow like a nightmare given form. Glowing, malevolent eyes glared from beneath a horned helm, and dark energy crackled in the air, thickening like an oppressive storm. The creature's presence made the ground itself seem to tremble. Alex whispered an incantation and cast True Sight upon himself. His vision sharpened, and a knowing smirk appeared on his face. The others were tensed, sensing the danger—except for Gale, whose eyes glimmered faintly with a deep, glow as he watched in silent curiosity.

The Conqueror’s voice rumbled like thunder, echoing off the walls. "What’s with this disturbance?"

Alex glanced at his companions. They all wore expressions of grim determination, yet Gale’s puzzled stare was fixed on the shadowed figure. Queen Plea, delicate yet exuding an eerie grace, waved a slender hand toward the Conqueror as he stepped closer, stopping just beside her.

The Conqueror’s voice boomed once more, an unsettling growl. "Leave now, intruders, before I decide to devour your souls."

But Alex remained steady, unperturbed. With a swift motion, he projected an Anti-Magic Field around them, banishing any illusions in its radius. The looming figure of the Conqueror flickered, then faded, revealing... a tiny, indignant pixie, glaring up at them with rage.

The party stared, staring in disbelief at the Conqueror true from. "You—You motherfucker!" The pixie shouted, wings fluttering in a furious blur. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!"

“Dolly,” Queen Plea scolded gently, one eyebrow raised, “what did we say about language?”

The pixie—now shrinking under Queen Plea’s disappointed gaze—mumbled, “Sorry.” But a moment later, her fiery glare returned, and she pointed an accusing finger at Alex, her voice lowering to a harsh whisper. "But look at what this... gentleman did to me!"

As Alex looked upon Dolly Thrice, he couldn't help the smirk that crept onto his face. “Hello, Dolly Thrice. It seems you've been busy since I released you,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of bemusement.

Dolly squinted, drifting closer as she scrutinized Alex's face, her tiny nose wrinkling in disdain. “I think I would remember an ugly face like yours. Who are you?”

“Does the name Zeus ring any bells?” Alex replied, watching her expression carefully.

Dolly tilted her head, tapping her chin as she searched her memory, but ultimately shook her head, looking as unimpressed as ever.

Alex’s eyes narrowed with a flicker of annoyance. With a casual wave of his hand, he conjured a swirling cloud of darkness between him and his party, followed by a psionic bubble that muffled every sound, creating an unnerving silence.

The Queen tensed, her gentle composure giving way to unease as she watched Alex’s form shift and transform. Dark plates began to cover his body, his face morphing into a smooth, faceless mask, broken only by a fiery light that glowed from within the gaps. His voice deepened into something menacing, the timbre filling the quiet.

“Now do you remember me?” he demanded.

Dolly’s eyes widened for a split second, then she frowned, squinting again, this time with recognition. “Ah, you’re that ugly that saved me from that crazy manspider.” A nervous chuckle escaped her, though it quickly faded as the memory returned in vivid detail. She recalled how easily he had tossed the monstrous creature aside, as though it weighed no more than a feather. Even after her release, Dolly had followed him briefly, lurking in the shadows, watching his confrontations with others—like Ketheric, that cursed madman—each fight more intense than the last.

Turning to Queen Plea, Dolly leaned in, whispering so softly even the nearby pleasantries struggled to hear. “Give him what he wants. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.” Unbeknownst to her, Alex heard every word, his keen hearing catching her advice with ease.

Queen Plea’s face showed a moment of reluctant acceptance before she nodded, a slight frown creasing her brow. “You may take the girl,” she allowed, her voice colder than before. “But only the girl.”

At her words, Alex’s form returned to normal, the darkness dissipating as the psionic bubble faded. He strode forward, his gaze softening only slightly as he approached Valni’s resting form. Gently, he lifted her from the bed, her face peaceful in her enchanted slumber. Though she hadn’t yet awakened, he could feel a faint pulse of life within her, and he suspected it would only be a matter of time before she rejoined them.

He walked back to his party, carrying Valni with a care and tenderness that seemed at odds with his usual intensity. Reaching Lilimila, he handed her sister to her, watching as tears streaked down her face, shimmering in the dim light. Lilimila clutched Valni close, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she buried her face in her sister’s hair.

Alex lingered for a moment, his hardened expression softening as he looked at the two sisters, reunited at last.

Then he turned back to Dolly, who scowled at him, arms folded, trying to regain her usual defiant demeanor. “What do you want now, ugly? We did what you asked.”

Alex’s face was unreadable as he took a step toward her. “Why do you want to conquer Faerûn?” he asked, his voice calm but unyielding.

A fleeting sadness crossed Dolly’s face, and for a moment, her defiance cracked. Queen Plea placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a quiet gesture of support.

“It’s none of your business, ugly,” Dolly retorted, but her voice wavered, betraying a hint of vulnerability.