1.5 Debriefing

Lem awoke with a start, the world around him a distorted blur. He quickly realized he was submerged, encased within a tank filled with a cool, tingling liquid. The steady hum of machinery vibrated through the glass, and as his vision cleared, he saw Daphnis, her face lit softly by the tank’s light, focused on his vitals. She was surrounded by a few nurses, all moving frantically among the beds of injured fighters scattered across the packed medical facility. The Dungeon base was filled to the brim with those who had survived the battle, and even from within the tank, he could hear the distant groans of wounded soldiers.

Lem tried to move but realized he was strapped in place. His pulse quickened, and his eyes darted around until they landed on something odd—his black beanie was wired to a series of cables that snaked out of the tank, pulsing with a faint glow. He felt a subtle tug from the cords as if they were pulling information from his mind, siphoning knowledge that was not entirely his own. Panic started to well up inside him.

Before he could react, however, a shadow loomed beyond the tank. The dim lighting did little to hide the imposing figure of the General as she approached. Her hands were clasped behind her back and leaned her face to where Lem could fully appreciate her.

The 6D chess player within Lem kicked in, his mind rushing with the divine sight he, in his frenzied mind, was graced to behold. 

The General’s face was a study in contradictions—strikingly beautiful yet weathered by years of war and command. Her skin was smooth, pale like ivory, but the faintest of lines traced around her mouth and eyes, hints of the constant strain she bore. Her hair, jet-black and silky, framed her face in a sharp, almost severe way, falling in immaculate waves past her shoulders, a stark contrast to the cold efficiency she projected.

Her eyes were a piercing green, so vivid they seemed to catch the light, but they were detached, guarded, like two pools of emerald behind frosted glass. There was something in them that once might have been warmth, long since buried beneath layers of discipline and ruthlessness. Her high cheekbones and strong jawline added an air of authority, while her lips, naturally full and almost temptingly soft, remained pressed into a line of calm control, betraying nothing of her inner thoughts.

Even in her beauty, there was an unmistakable hardness—a woman who had seen too much, fought too many battles, and had no time for softness. And yet, beneath all that, there was an allure, something captivating and untouchable that made even her sternest gaze impossible to look away from and kept Lem’s panic in check. He could not tear his gaze away from her, his mind focusing solely on her presence as she came to stand before the glass, her lips curling into a faint smirk.

The General stood tall in front of Lem’s tank, her eyes gleaming with that familiar mixture of power and authority. She placed a hand on the glass, her voice cool yet edged with an undertone that made Lem’s skin tingle.

“You’re in a Holy Water tank, soldier,” she began, her words slow and deliberate. “Normally, I wouldn't waste it on a mere grunt in the resistance, especially one as reckless as you. But this water isn't just for healing—it's meant to treat the gravest of wounds, sometimes even resurrect the dead. You can thank your... unique circumstances for ending up here.” Her gaze shifted briefly to the cables connected to his head. "Whatever's in that mind of yours now—what you absorbed from those sorcerers—is too valuable to lose. I couldn’t risk it."

Lem, submerged and strapped in, couldn’t suppress the wave of pleasure that washed over him as she spoke. Something about her words, her authority, sent a shiver down his spine. He felt warm all over, and not just from the Holy Water. His body reacted involuntarily, almost as if her words had unlocked something deep within him, and a dopey, love-struck grin slowly crept onto his face.

The General noticed, her smirk widening slightly as she began to trace her hand up and down the tank’s glass. The motion was deliberate, slow, and utterly mesmerizing. “You managed to impress me, soldier. The destruction of the Spire—your team’s tactics—they’ve caught my attention. Don’t get used to it, though.”

Lem's pulse quickened, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt a different kind of heat rising in him, his cheeks flushing, as her fingers continued their languid slide across the glass. His body, completely immobilized, quivered in response, and his mind swirled with confusion and pleasure.

With one last lingering stroke of her hand on the glass, the General leaned closer, her voice taking on a more commanding tone. “Keep delivering results like this,” she purred, her eyes narrowing, “and you might just earn more of my... attention. But disappoint me—” Her tone sharpened, cutting through the haze clouding Lem’s mind, “—and I won’t hesitate to leave you behind.”

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and left, her presence lingering long after she disappeared. Lem remained there, floating in the Holy Water, dazed and blissfully overwhelmed, trying to steady his racing thoughts.

Daphnis hovered by the tank, her delicate fingers brushing over Lem’s vitals as she frowned at the monitor, noting the sudden spike. Her golden eyes flickered with concern as she glanced between the healing water tank and Lem’s now calm face, hidden beneath the wires extracting the data stored in his mind.

"I don’t like how the General manipulates her subordinates," Daphnis murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "She twists loyalty into something... warped. It's not devotion, it's control. Don’t let yourself fall for it, Lem. Whatever you're feeling—it isn’t real. It's just..." She trailed off, her tone becoming even more strained as she watched Lem’s vitals spike again.

Her eyes widened in worry as she saw the truth in his response. Lem wasn’t just falling for the General’s words; he was consumed by them, in a different, more twisted way. His heart rate shot up for a moment, and his body tensed as if reacting not to fear but some deeper, more fervent emotion. And then, as suddenly as it spiked, his vitals vanished into nothingness, and Lem went limp inside the tank. The last flicker of awareness in his eyes faded, leaving only unconsciousness in its wake.

Daphnis took a step back, her lips parting in alarm, but it was too late. Whatever had broken in Lem had already shattered. Yet, even in that final moment before he succumbed, he had seen it.

No, he had foreseen it.

He had already won this fight in his mind. In some distorted corner of his thoughts, he had imagined it—his actions, his heroism would impress the General, and her cold, unyielding heart would submit to his strength and relentless desire.

In his mind, he had already foreseen it, a twisted victory that made him feel whole.

Daphnis stood by the tank, her fingers tightening on the clipboard she held as memories of the battle against the Spire flooded her mind. She remembered how Lem had stood tall, commanding the team with precision and clarity amidst the chaos. His quick thinking, fearless demeanor, and instinctive leadership had saved them all more than once. Even when the odds were stacked against them, it had been Lem who kept them pushing forward, guiding each step as if he could already foresee the enemy's moves before they made them. He had been nothing short of heroic, pulling them through what should have been a certain death.

He had been brilliant for the job.

But now, watching him subdued and submerged in the Holy Water tank, with cables wired into his brain and the General’s influence tightening around him like a vice, Daphnis felt a gnawing sense of dread. She could see the shift in him. His resolve, his fire—what once had driven him to fight for their survival—was being twisted, bent into something unnatural. The General's cold manipulation had already begun warping his mind, bending it toward a darker path that Daphnis feared he would not recover from.

She could not let it happen. Not to someone as brilliant, as capable as Lem.

Her hand hovered over the glass, a quiet vow forming in her heart. No matter how strong the General's grip became, Daphnis would break him free. She could not allow this innate tactician, this brave soul who had led them to victory, to be wasted under the whims of someone who saw them as nothing more than tools. She would find a way to save him, even if it meant defying the General herself.

With a determined look in her eyes, Daphnis made a silent promise. She would protect him from this manipulation, no matter the cost. Lem deserved to be more than just a pawn in someone else’s game.

******

Isamu stepped cautiously into his new quarters, taking in the eerie surroundings. The cave he now called home stretched deep into a vast, seemingly endless chasm. The jagged rock walls dripped with moisture, and a faint echo of distant sounds reverberated through the cavern, making it impossible to tell just how deep the abyss went. 

A staff sergeant, a tiger humanoid with white fur and black stripes, stood beside him, his stern face barely visible in the dim light. 

"Don't fall into the void," the sergeant warned, his tone devoid of any humor. "High-ranking monsters are nesting down there. If you slip, you're as good as gone."

Isamu glanced down at the edge of the chasm, the darkness below seeming to pull at him. He stepped back instinctively, his heart beating a little faster. 

"What happens if the monsters climb up?" he asked, looking back at the sergeant.

The tiger man didn’t reply immediately. Instead, a low hum filled the air, followed by a sudden burst of light. Hidden laser altars activated miles below, cutting through the darkness with beams of searing energy, while flamethrowers concealed in the rock walls roared to life, spewing fire into the chasm. The cavern was momentarily illuminated, revealing the scale of the void and the threat that lurked within. The firelight danced across the sergeant's face as he finally answered, "We’re prepared for that. But stay alert. The defenses only do so much."

In the background, the shriek of dying critters echoed up and into his room, sending a shiver down his spine.

Isamu nodded, now feeling the weight of the situation. His gaze shifted to the single metal door that led out of the cave, the only exit to the base's corridors. 

The sergeant continued, "Your partner, Lem, will join you in a few hours once he’s fully recovered. Until then, rest up. You’ve got a briefing for your next mission tomorrow."

As the sergeant left, Isamu made his way to the upper bed in the corner of the cave. 

"Sorry bro, finders keepers," he said and played with his fingers.

The mattress was firm, and as he sat down, the reality of his new life settled in.

His face let out an uncomfortable grin, "Well crap, I'm fighting demons... and my new room is a hellish maw... and, holy cow, I survived my first mission without even thinking about it... that damn Lem... he pulled it off... we pulled it off—"

A sudden knock on the metal door pulled him from his thoughts. He opened it to find Raena standing there, looking unusually nervous. 

Her usual confidence seemed to have evaporated, replaced by a blush that crept up her cheeks. 

"Hey, Isamu-kun" she started, her voice a little shaky. "You have a minute?"

Isamu smiled, "Mina-chan! I mean—Raena! Of course, do you want to come in?" 

"Oh no!" Raena said, her hands waving in denial, "I-I just wanted to say… Ehem! You did well out there. Your bravery—it’s something to admire."

Isamu blinked, caught off guard by her words. "Uh, thanks, Raena. I guess I didn't have a choice, you sent me here, remember?"

Raena panicked as if Isamu were to start complaining, but Isamu continued without pause.

"However, you saved us back there, Lem and me, and for that, I'll be forever grateful, and you are now a dragon... how about that? To think you were a hero in another world! You're awesome!"

Raena hesitated, her eyes darting away before she forced herself to look at him again. "I… I look forward to working with you more in the future," she said, her blush deepening.

She leaned forward, unsure on whether to say what she wanted to say next, but the words spurted out involuntarily, "Do you... want to work together? I-I mean... would you like to?"

Isamu smiled, oblivious to the deeper meaning behind her words yet full of energy. 

"Why wouldn't I, Raena-chan? We make a good team!"

Raena nodded, her heart sinking a little at his dense response. She had hoped for more, but his genuine smile and cluelessness softened the sting. 

"W-well, sleep well Isamu-kun, I'll see you later!"

"Yes! Later Raena-chan!"

"Raena."

"Eh?"

"Just call me Raena, and... I'll call you Isamu, ok?"

"Err—sure thing!"

With a small wave, she turned to leave, hiding the excitement she felt as she walked back down the corridor. Isamu, meanwhile, returned to his bed, completely unaware of what had just transpired but barely had time to settle back into his bed before another knock echoed through his chamber. 

He sighed, hoping this time it was Lem, but when he opened the door, he found Selena standing there instead, her silver eyes peering at him through the dim light of the cave.

The Dark Elf shifted awkwardly in place, her usual calm demeanor disrupted by what appeared to be hesitation. “I’m sorry for disturbing your rest,” she said, her voice quieter than usual.

Isamu waved her worry off, offering a casual smile. “It’s fine. Come in.”

Selena stepped inside but remained standing just beyond the doorway, her hands fidgeting with the edges of her uniform. Isamu watched her closely, noticing how she seemed to struggle for words, an unusual sight for the normally composed and serious Dark Elf. 

Finally, she spoke, her voice wavering slightly.

“I just… I wanted to thank you. For saving me back there… and for encouraging me,” she said, her gaze briefly meeting his before dropping to the floor again.

Isamu blinked. He didn’t think much of it, assuming that expressing gratitude wasn’t something Dark Elves did often in their culture. He smiled again, attempting to make her feel more comfortable. 

“You don’t need to worry about it," He said, waving his hand dismissingly, "I was just doing what anyone would’ve done. You’re part of the team.”

He turned back toward his bed.

Selena's hand reached out, her feet moving reflexively to make him understand, "W-wait, I'm not don—"

Before Isamu could take a step, he heard Selena's feet drifting into an inevitable stumble. 

He quickly turned around, instinctively reaching out, but it was too late. Selena tripped forward, colliding with him, and in a clumsy entanglement of limbs, they both tumbled to the ground.

Isamu landed on his back, the impact softened by the moss-covered floor, with Selena lying on top of him. He blinked up at her, momentarily stunned by the situation. 

“A-are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice, "I'm so sorry! I thought you were tripping and I—"

Selena, however, did not respond immediately. Her hands, pressed against his chest, felt the strength beneath his uniform—a strength altered by the Hero Flux and that now manifested as a strongly built body. 

Her mind spiraled as images of Isamu rushed in—him embracing her during the heat of battle, fighting off the horde of demons, standing tall against the monstrous blob in the final moments of their mission. Her heart raced uncontrollably as these flashes of memory overwhelmed her and her fingers craved to move and explore this sturdiness more. 

The lewdness of her thoughts, her now frenzied desire, it was all too much.

Without warning, Selena’s composure snapped. She quickly scrambled to her feet, her face flushed with embarrassment. She mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath before turning and darting out of the room.

Isamu, still lying on the ground, blinked in confusion. He slowly sat up, scratching the back of his head. “Did… did I offend her or something?” he muttered to himself. He was not exactly well-versed in the customs of Dark Elves—or any other races, for that matter. 

“Maybe they don’t like physical contact,” he reasoned aloud, feeling a little sheepish, "Crap, I should probably apologize tomorrow."

Sighing, he stood up and dusted himself off, silently resolving to figure out the strange customs of his fantasy teammates before he found himself in another awkward situation.

******

Saba sat alone in her quarters, trying to meditate. Her usual routine of cleansing her mind from the memories she'd absorbed during battle was faltering. Normally, she’d flush out the excess data, the chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions from the people she encountered—memories that powered her abilities. But this time, something had gone wrong.

Her eyes closed, and a strange warmth began to stir deep within her belly. It wasn’t the sharp, fiery energy of combat or the cool focus of her usual control. This was different—slow, molten, like a volcano building pressure, its heat swelling and swelling inside her, refusing to be released. No matter how hard she tried to dispel it, the sensation only grew stronger, warmer, until it consumed her analytical thoughts.

Then, in the quiet of her mind, the memories of Lem she had extracted during their 'kiss' began to resurface, not the ones of their battles or strategies. No, these were softer, stranger, and vivid in ways she had not expected. She saw herself in those memories now—her face replacing the faceless girl that Lem had dreamed about time and time again. His fantasies, once fleeting shadows, had taken root inside her, blooming into intricate, surreal scenarios. She was no longer just an observer; she had become the focus.

In his dreams, she saw herself at a train station, standing on the platform as Lem stared longingly at her. 

She was the quiet girl who was always kind to him at school, who sat across from him, sharing glances. 

She was the stranger walking down the street that caught his eye...

...the one he watched in awe at the beach as her hair blew in the wind. 

...She was the cashier with the warm, welcoming smile, a smile that lingered in his mind long after he had left the store. 

Over...

And over...

And over...

...Again.

Each scenario became more personal, more intimate, and with each one, her heart pounded harder.

Saba clenched her fists and her eyes whitened in endless streams of data, trembling under the weight of these fantasies—no longer Lem’s alone but now hers as well. They fused with her own desires, becoming something that both scientifically intrigued her and objectively unsettled her. She could not ignore them anymore. 

Somewhere along the way, Lem’s admiration and desire for a flourishing romance—in its myriad forms—had transferred to her, and she was no longer just processing his memories; she was becoming the very object of his dreams.

Her breath hitched, and she opened her eyes, feeling her pulse quicken. She had never experienced anything like this before—this strange merging of minds and hearts. What she felt now was not just curiosity. It was deeper, more consuming, like being pulled into an ocean of uncharted emotion.

She bit her lip, trying to steady herself. Her mind raced with the possibilities. What was this? What had happened to her? What was Lem doing to her, without even realizing it? Was it the power of that slime on his head?

No… this was not just Lem. This was her, too. Her curiosity, her confusion, her desire to understand these strange new feelings. There was only one way to resolve this.

"Understood... it is the only logical solution..." she said robotically.

Saba’s eyes narrowed in determination. She had to explore this with Lem. She had to delve into the heart of these feelings and uncover what lay beneath them. Only then would she find clarity. Only then would she know whether these budding emotions were real—or just another byproduct of the chaos that connected them.

And with that decision, she knew there was no turning back.