The World is Ending, So You Should Take Care of Yourself

“Humans are so weak,” Apophis complained, though without heat.

“Shut up,” Botwulf scowled, filling his waterskin in the oasis spring.

Apophis cackled, looking about their surroundings. The bandits guarding the oasis made a good snack - and their supplies would keep the healer alive. Even at his great speed, it will take months to reach the Sylvan Vale from his castle.

“Why are you doing this?” Botwulf asked, shaking his head as he dubiously handed the waterskin to the Librarian.

The rats had already commandeered a saddle from the running lizard mounts and strapped it to their draconic liege. Apophis allowed it only for the circumstances.

“Don’t tell me you are going to complain that I ate bandits,” Apophis scoffs.

“Why are you taking me with you?” Botwulf asked, handing the second waterskin off as well. He eyed the saddle with equal skepticism as the Librarian strapped it down. It made six total, now. Along with a bedroll and spare outfit.

Botwulf moved on to searching for rations as he continued, “You don’t need me, now that you know where the dungeon is.”

“Oh, but I do,” Apophis said with a grin, “you keep me hungry.”

Botwulf shivered, “Please don’t say that again.”

Apophis cackled.

After taking the time to wolf down some rations and pack the rest away, Botwulf reluctantly asked, “How do I know you won’t just eat me when you get bored?”

“Not that kind of hungry,” Apophis replied.

“What kind, then?” Botwulf asked, sorting through more of the bandit’s gear to find headgear that would protect him from the desert sun. The rest of his clothing matches the locale already - Apophis had simply left no time for him to retrieve the hat he’d arrived in.

“Hungry to act,” Apophis replied, snaking his tail under the human - then pushing up to seat the man in the saddle.

Botwulf yelped, almost falling out but for the Devourer’s hands steadying him and strapping him into the saddle. He offered the dragon a glare before rolling his eyes, “At least you weren’t flirting, then.”

“I didn’t say that,” Apophis said - enjoying the human’s look of surprise for only one moment before taking off again.

The sunlight was warm against his midnight sky scales as he raced across the dunes. They would have to stop at nightfall - Botwulf needed sleep, and the saddle could not provide it, even strapped in. Apophis did not have such a mundane need, but he did not mind the delay. Even with stops, he could move faster than any other across the continent. They would make it with time to spare.

Time the human could waste looking for a way to save the entire world, if he wished. At least, until they reached the core.

When Apophis stopped to let the human rest, Botwulf complained.

“You don’t need sleep, and I’m strapped into the saddle,” he said, “we’ll get there faster if you just go through the night.”

“No,” Apophis replied, winding his body into a loose coil and laying out a bedroll in the center of his coil as he did.

“Why not?” Botwulf demanded.

“I told you,” Apophis replied, picking the man up and setting him on the bedroll, “you keep me hungry. If you die, I may not complete this quest.”

He had found, now knowing they were characters in a game, that he could examine their code if he meditated. It was an extension of his Soul Reading ability. The apathy of everyone was part of the shut down program - but for some reason, Botwulf was unaffected. It was likely that Apophis’s renewed sense of purpose was linked to why.

“I can’t sleep when-” Botwulf protested.

“[Sleep],” Apophis casted.

“You bas-” Botwulf complained - just before his eyes rolled back and the spell made him lose consciousness.

Apophis cackled, wrapping the rest of the way over the human as a shield from the elements - and any roaming mobs. It seemed characters that did not possess a strong enough VI pattern were not subject to the apathy, and moved as normal. It was why he saw no point in bringing his horde - aside from the issue of time.

Apophis fell into meditation - focusing his mind on what could be considered Botwulf’s soul or code, depending on how one wanted to look at it. He parsed the lines until he found what he was looking for - ah, yes, he was right.

Botwulf’s character VI had been heavily programmed to overcome fear conditions - stray notes suggested his original programming had made him all but useless due to how easily he was frightened. Especially against Apophis - it was the redundant coding to keep him from being too terrified to help during the final battle with the Devourer that was causing a reaction in Apophis’s code.

Though… the dragon supposed he could conceptualize it another way. A rather simple way - that the human’s bravery inspired him.

It was ridiculous.

He loved it.

Apophis knew he was a character - but around Botwulf, he too felt real again. He felt alive, and powerful.

He felt hungry.

Even if this plan failed, Apophis would not lose that again. He would not die a shadow of himself - he would go out at his full glory, doing what he had intended from the start. He was the end - not some countdown of uncaring gods called Developers.

Idly, he looked at the Librarian’s code - another glitch. They were considered a mob, but with special circumstances. That was what allowed them to resist the apathy as well. He released the Soul Reading, knowing all he needed to.

The rats had packed themselves around Botwulf, insulating him against the cold of the desert night. The dragon’s body was not warm, as he was a creature made of void and vaguely defined shadow stuff, but he was not cold, either. The Librarian, as a collection of mammals, was the perfect cover, in that regard. Whether Botwulf would appreciate their effort was another matter.

Apophis cackled to himself, settling in to wait until the human woke.