Chapter 4: Beneath the Glow
Section 1: Goodbye, Betsy
The stairs ended in a wide stone arch, the edges carved with faded glyphs—remnants of an older civilization that had once passed through this place. Beyond the arch, the cave opened into a massive chamber bathed in ethereal light.
It wasn't sunlight.
The walls glowed with veins of luminous crystal—blue, green, violet—twisting like roots through the rock. Mineral formations pulsed faintly, lighting the cavern in a way that was almost gentle. Water trickled somewhere in the distance, and the air, though still thick with cave dust, felt a little easier to breathe.
"Second floor," Grundle announced, stepping into the chamber with a grunt. "Now this is a sight."
Betsy rolled to a slow stop behind him, engine humming softly as if in approval. The dwarven machine exhaled steam like a tired beast.
Rex stepped in behind them, eyes wide. "It's… beautiful."
Even Hugo stopped bouncing for a moment, his gooey form shimmering faintly in the mineral light. "Haven't seen this much raw mana crystal in one place since the underroots of Iztal…"
"You've been there?" Rex asked.
"Nope," Hugo said, popping a globular eye outward to blink independently. "But I read about it in a scroll I ate once."
Rex snorted, but the laugh faded as Grundle turned to them with a serious expression.
"This is where we part ways, kid," the dwarf said.
Rex blinked. "Wait—what?"
"I only agreed to help you to the second floor. There's good ore here. Betsy's due for a tune-up, and this place has the fuel to do it."
"You're… staying here?" Rex asked, suddenly feeling the weight of it. "But—"
"Don't get all weepy on me," Grundle interrupted, waving a gloved hand. "You've got slime-boy here. You'll be fine."
"Slime-man," Hugo corrected proudly.
Grundle gave him a look. "Sure. Whatever."
They shared one last meal—leftover ant jerky, some canned root vegetables from Betsy's storage, and tea made from cave moss. Not great, but not the worst Rex had eaten since his reincarnation.
Grundle leaned against Betsy, chewing slowly. "You've got a long way to go, Rex. Human civilization's still floors above us. And it won't get easier."
"I didn't expect it to," Rex said.
"But you've got a trait," Grundle said, eyeing him. "That Undying thing… That's not a blessing. It's a challenge."
Rex nodded. "I'm starting to see that."
Grundle offered a rare smile. "Good. Means you're not a total idiot." He clapped Rex on the shoulder, then turned and started unloading his tools.
The dwarf didn't say goodbye. He didn't need to.
Betsy let out a soft honk, almost sad, and blinked her headlights twice.
Then she shut down beside the crystals, and Grundle got to work.
The cavern narrowed the farther they walked, winding like a riverbed between glittering walls. Rex glanced back once, watching the glowing light of Grundle's camp fade behind them.
Now it was just him and Hugo.
"Feels quieter," Rex said.
"That's what happens when the walking cannon leaves," Hugo replied, bouncing beside him. "But quiet's not always bad."
They walked in silence for a bit, the sounds of their footsteps echoing down the tunnels. Occasionally, a chunk of glowing mineral would fall loose from the wall, landing with a soft clink on the ground. Rex made a mental note to grab some later—who knew if it was valuable.
Eventually, Hugo started fiddling with something: a pair of cracked goggles he'd pulled from his… well, wherever his goo-body stored things. He squished them into shape with absurd delicacy, humming a low tune.
"You always carry those?" Rex asked.
"Yep. These were the first thing I ever found after I gained thought," Hugo said. "They were on a dead adventurer. Cracked, melted, forgotten. But I liked the way they looked. Thought maybe they'd help me see."
"Did they?"
"Nope," Hugo said with a grin. "But I kept 'em anyway. Something about them made me feel like I had a head."
Rex chuckled. "You didn't have a head?"
"I was just a blob. Rolling around. Eating things. I didn't know I was me until I swallowed a broken wand and accidentally cast a spell that made me think."
"You ate your way into sentience?"
"Yep," Hugo said, poking the goggles with a gooey finger. "And then I ate a dictionary, a philosopher's journal, and an entire bard one day."
"Wait. An entire bard?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to."
Rex laughed, despite himself. "You're something else."
"I get that a lot."
Eventually, the tunnel opened again, this time into a long chasm split by a narrow river that tumbled down into a waterfall. It glittered under the cavern's glow, and beneath its surface, shapes darted back and forth—fish.
Real, actual fish.
"Food," Hugo said, practically vibrating with excitement. "Fishfishfishfishfish."
"You eat fish?" Rex asked, surprised. "I thought you just absorbed things."
"I absorb fish," Hugo clarified, already rolling toward the water's edge. "Big difference."
Rex approached slowly, peering into the water. The fish were long and silver-blue, like cave eels with fins. They glowed faintly, illuminating the stones below.
He tried grabbing one. It darted away.
"Too slow," Hugo teased.
Rex knelt by the edge and tried again. Another miss. Then another. He even faceplanted into the river once, soaking his hoodie and nearly choking on a gulp of cold mineral-rich water.
Hugo laughed the whole time, having already absorbed three fish like noodles into his body.
"Want help?" the slime offered between slurps.
"No," Rex grumbled. "I'm gonna catch at least one."
It took half an hour.
But finally, finally, he managed to grab one with both hands and yank it from the water.
He held it up, triumphant and dripping, the fish wriggling madly in his grip.
"Victory," Hugo whispered reverently. "Now eat it."
"I'm cooking it."
"Weak."
Rex lit a small fire from dried moss and cooked the fish over a stick, savoring the smell. It wasn't much, but it tasted real. Warm. Comforting.
He looked over at Hugo, who now wore the goggles askew, one lens completely shattered.
"You've been alone a long time, huh?" Rex asked.
Hugo didn't answer right away. Then: "Yeah. But not anymore."
Rex nodded, finishing his fish.
The waterfall rushed behind them, a constant, living sound in the heart of the stone. Somewhere far above, the surface waited.
But for now, this moment was enough.
Section 2: Goblin Trade and Stone Sleep
The fire had long since burned to embers, and the soft trickling of the waterfall behind them was beginning to fade into memory. Rex stretched one last time and shouldered his blade, its crude edge still faintly stained from their last battle. His hoodie was half-dry now, crusted slightly with dried water minerals and fish slime, but it beat walking around shirtless in a cold cave.
"Ready to go?" Hugo asked, adjusting the cracked goggles on his gooey head.
"As I'll ever be," Rex muttered, giving the quiet waterfall a final look. "Kinda peaceful here."
"We'll find more waterfalls," Hugo said with a cheerful bounce. "With less falling. Maybe more hot spring vibes next time."
Rex snorted as they stepped back into the winding tunnels. The glowing minerals on this floor offered some comfort, but the cave still felt ancient—alive, even. Like it was breathing around them. The further they walked, the narrower and more unpredictable the paths became. Some parts were collapsed, forcing them to backtrack or climb over sharp rocks, and others opened into eerie chambers with nothing but silence and broken relics.
They were at it for about an hour when Hugo suddenly stopped.
Rex followed his gaze down the tunnel ahead. Three figures had emerged from a side passage—short, hunched silhouettes with pointed ears and beady glowing eyes.
"Goblins," Hugo whispered.
Each goblin was armed with a jagged bone weapon and wore makeshift armor stitched from leather scraps and bones. They barked and snorted among themselves in their harsh, fast-paced language—something between a bark and a snort: Grr'chak! Dook-dook! Thlak!
Rex reached for his cleaver. "We fighting?"
"Not yet," Hugo said. "Let me try something."
Before Rex could object, Hugo rolled forward like a sentient pudding and let out a series of squelchy noises that, disturbingly, resembled goblin speech. "Blorg! Sna-thak dooka thok!"
The goblins stopped. One squinted, tilted its head, and then… replied. Tentatively.
Rex stood frozen, watching as Hugo and the goblins launched into a full-on conversation—or debate, possibly an argument, maybe even a poetry recital. It was hard to tell. There was lots of gesturing. At one point, Hugo inflated a part of his body into a shape that vaguely resembled a boar and did a weird little dance.
"What is happening right now?" Rex whispered to himself.
After a few tense minutes, Hugo turned back to Rex, surprisingly cheerful.
"Good news!" he said. "They're not gonna kill us."
"That's the good news?"
"Even better," Hugo continued, "they're willing to trade."
The goblins shuffled forward, one of them dragging a large, hairy boar carcass behind it. Another held up a flattened bundle of fabric that looked suspiciously like a pillow. It was stained and unevenly stuffed, but hey—cushion was cushion.
Rex blinked. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," Hugo said. "Apparently they had a surplus from raiding some merchant caravan. All they want in return is a little glowy mineral and a story."
"A story?" Rex asked, confused.
"They're suckers for drama," Hugo explained. "I gave them the abridged version of your death."
Rex narrowed his eyes. "You told goblins about how I got hit by a truck?"
"With added sound effects," Hugo said proudly.
The goblins handed over the meat and pillow like solemn traders, then snorted and vanished back into the dark tunnels, one of them mimicking a truck horn and laughing its goblin ass off.
"Unbelievable," Rex muttered, holding the pillow in disbelief.
"You're welcome," Hugo said smugly. "I just bartered a luxury item for free."
They continued the journey, the tension lighter now with a meal and comfort in hand. The boar meat was heavy and rich-smelling even uncooked, and Hugo insisted they'd roast it when they camped again. The tunnel eventually widened into another large corridor, this one with fresher air drifting down from above.
"We're close," Hugo said, nodding forward.
Sure enough, after another steep incline and a half-collapsed passage they had to crawl through, they emerged before a stone staircase spiraling upward. The steps were worn from centuries of use but still intact. A carved arch above the stairwell read something Rex couldn't understand, but the symbols looked vaguely ominous. Hugo squinted at them.
"Rough translation: 'Do not bring bread to the third floor or suffer fungal wrath.'"
"…What?"
"Old translation. Probably a cultural thing," Hugo shrugged. "Anyway, that's our path to the first floor. But we camp here tonight."
Rex didn't argue. His legs ached, his arms throbbed from the earlier fights, and he had enough dried ant blood and slime stink on him to qualify as some kind of weird stew. The boar meat was cooked slowly over a low fire, crackling softly as the smell filled the stair chamber. They sat against the cave wall, eating in peace for the first time since Grundle left.
"This is the best thing I've eaten since dying," Rex mumbled, chewing a thick chunk of smoky boar.
"High praise," Hugo said, slurping a greasy piece into his gelatinous body.
The pillow—lumpy, stained, and probably cursed—was placed lovingly beneath Rex's head as he lay down by the fire. It wasn't much, but after days on stone, it was heaven.
Hugo sat beside him, keeping watch, his shape flickering slightly with the firelight.
"Thanks," Rex said quietly.
"For the pillow?"
"For… sticking with me."
Hugo tilted his head. "Of course, man. You're the first real person I've met in years who didn't try to stab me for slime cores."
"Glad I could be that guy."
Rex stared at the ceiling, a massive slab of rock laced with glowing veins, and let the warmth of the fire and the pillow beneath him lull his battered body toward rest.
The stairs to the next floor waited above.
But for tonight, he slept. And dreamed of falling trucks and glowing fish.