Astral Escape, a Scientific Progression Fantasy.

I gaze upon the strange being, looking almost like a twisted angel, and chuckle at the thought. Considering the simple fact that well angels are generally considered holy. This dungeon is anything but holy, it's a death trap built to murder the weak that any "holy" being would protect.

Regardless I'm not exactly going to immediately try fighting someone who can talk who hasn't explicitly attempted to hurt me, although its words aren't very reassuring.

Oh well I wouldn't know who I'd be if I didn't at least try to descalate. I say "Well I'm not exactly afraid but no pain has to happen here, look I just need to get past you so I can get the fuck out of here. I don't have enough quarrel with you to pursue anything. Nothing has to happen here."

The being looks at me almost seeming mystified that I could speak, its radiant eyes blazing from its golden mask. With its strange distorted voice it says "It is regrettable, you unlike most who walk into the light cannot freely leave. Yet your blood shall feed the light that purifies others." it says with a pity dripping with condescension.

I scoff "Don't act like you're going to try to kill me for some greater good, your 'light' is one that would murder someone for being weak, and that would not see that as a mistake but part of its right."

The lights that crown the lion shine brighter as it declares "The light is above the petty individual, it looks at the world at large, and when there is a rot, you burn it out."

Outraged I say "In what world is weakness, a rot to be excised with vigilance. At the very least it would be a worse one, without all that could be and what can be gained when one builds for the people that don't fit into perfection."

The lion guffaws its strange voice hurting my ears with its intensity. "What could the weak build, who cares for the death of the weak, it is their choice to come here, it is their choice to be weak."

Confused, and baffled I say "The weak by your own words built the "light" we stand in, their blood fed these stones, those who are discarded are the foundation for all that is built hidden under stone and gold. The strong declare that they reached their heights with only their hands, when they stand upon thrones of bones, their strength built from the very thing they disdain."

Getting more emotional, as I think about my mistakes, about what I've had to do, about who I've fought for I say "And you know who cares about the weak, the rot you would cut out? Me, the weak, the everyman, even a scant few of the strong, because the sanctity of life is not some shackle to throw off, it's a thing to hold dear. You are not among a crowd, you stand in an empty chamber of echoes and exclaim that all know your truth even if they won't say it."

Anger bleeding into my voice as I look at this haughty prick I shout, "It might be their choice to come here, their choice to not make the decisions that would make them worthy to you. But it is also your choice to kill them, to stand upon a throne of bones and gild them in gold so that your sins may shine!"

The lion almost seems a bit shocked before a ripple moves through its impossible mask, like a puff in a shirt smoothed away. Then it says in that very same righteous tone of its thrumming voice "Through blood does the light grow, and the radiance of the light allows for more and more to be purified. Their deaths are worthy ones."

Disgruntled and frayed, I say "Death isn't an acceptable price for power, and power does not equate to morality. There is no greater good if you do not fight or sacrifice for good."

The lion slams a great paw onto the ground as it proclaims "Power is morality, with power I can inflict my morals onto others. And my morals are moral because I say so and I have the power to do so. Without power morals are but dust in the wind."

Moving closer to me the lion says "You say so many fancy things about morality but you have the power to back it up, you stand inches away from demigodhood, tell me honestly would someone without your power say that power is not morality."

I stand baffled, what is demigodhood? I've been mistaken for a god before but that seems strange. Additionally what nonsense is that, the weak and the downtrodden are those more likely to see the truth that power is a flutter in the wind, a stroke of luck. Weakness additionally is not an excuse for such a thing. Many of the weakest of society have fought the strongest to make the world a better, more kind place.

Now looming over me the lion declares "Even if you defeat me you only prove my point to be true. That you were stronger and thus could force me to act according to your morals."

Gosh darn it, I should have known this would be the case, this circular argument leaves no room to wiggle in anything that they don't already agree with. Why did I have this argument anyway? I suspect pure passion, I have never met someone so unabashedly cruel before. Most at least have the intelligence to hide their cruelty, even if they can't keep it up for long. Humans are humans and shall always hurt each other but I've never before seen someone who is proud of their cruelty who sees it as core to themselves. It made me innately disgusted and angry.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Let's try to circle back to the true point of this, not arguing over the morals of killing random people who walk into you, there is no moral argument for it. I just need to get out of here.

Sighing I say "Whatever, I only wish to leave here, just let me through or let me out, and no one has to get hurt."

The lion chuckling a bit to themselves, their thrumming voice echoing around the room says "I only die if you are let through, I die with the light, but I don't think that will be a concern"

Already haven reached fairly close over the course of the argument the lion slams down a claw, only escaping in the knick of it I scramble backwards. As the claw crashes down on the ground it shatters and shards to incredibly durable stone spray away from the strike.

Holy shit, I exploded a wall for what felt like fucking hours, and I barely did jack shit, and this fucker just busted the stone like it was nothing.

Frantically I flip on the ice beam and send it forth to gunk up their movements, but as they do the lion takes their paws and blocks the ice, as they do so it pale's and crackles not holding them down or even seeming to trouble them so much.

The lion makes another grating thrumming chuckle as it says "There is a reason I was chosen to fight you mortal."

Hmm, it looks like the lion like me can absorb energy, I don't see it putting it to any use, and it didn't completely absorb it. That can be a bit of a problem, I don't really have a strength advantage over a being capable of cracking something I couldn't with hours of work.

Alright I might be able to handle it with more indirect stuff, carefully wheeling backwards, I aim at the floor right before the lion steps, causing it to stumble and slip as it lunges towards me, but I notice that similar to before that the ice seems to dim, and pale when it's touched.

Fuck the lion is still slipping but it can take it away from already existing items. How does that even work? Okay I'm not exactly doing the best considering that nothing is really getting to it. What are my options, wait a second I just barely left a room covered in magical blasts. Additionally unlike me it's not fully immune and much larger.

Backing away from the lion taking care that an avenue to the exit is always available I scramble away again and again, each desperate move allowing the lion an easier shot before in one burst when the lion pounces I swipe a wide, thinner sheet of ice.

The lion slides and topples to the ground, but instead of going in for the attack, I turn around and make a break for it

With ease I pivot, dance forward, and pull my way across, as the lion yells in the background "I should've known that someone such as you arguing for the weak would've been a coward"

I let out a bright laugh the first I've had in a while as I race through the challenges I've had so far. Each step done with a strange ease even burdened by my great and heavy armor, dodging the almost clumsy swipes of the lion, dodging, twisting, turning. My feet a better, smoother higher traction surface than even the most expensive designer athletic shoes.

I ponder to myself so free that I can maintain an idle thought, the fact that despite its unfinished state, my enhanced body does have some advantages, I do not strain anything when I move, my bones betray a resilience far beyond their appearance, and my skin is a combination weapon, armor, and best shoe I've ever had. Man this Creativity magic is sweet, I can't wait till I have the full package.

Quickly I arrive in the tile room, and focus myself, turning around. I have quite the lead on the lion, they're still in the mimic room, hmm quite strange they smashed the floor like it was nothing but all that strength led to barely any difference in speed. They're faster, and I can keep ahead if I have obstacles or if they have bad footing, but as well a lion they should have already caught me, it's not like gazelles want to be eaten either.

Whatever, as they approach I weave through the lions every attack, sending out choice bits of quickly fading ice to throw them off, my renewed confidence in my speed and control allowing me to weave quite cleanly, even as I move into position, not simply dodging but also moving in a circle.

When the lion lunges for me at just the right angle, I jump to their left before taking advantage of two things, one the door frame, and two the fact that I placed the lion between myself and a huge array of damage spewing tiles.

Grabbing onto the door frame I flick on both my boots and a torrent of rocks slams into their already shaky position and they crash backward into a pipe, as their flank begins to burn with acid, flames lick their wings, and icy mist frosts over their face.

The lion roars in pain even as the attacks dim, far more damage being done to their body than the entire fight so far. Flailing about they slam a paw into the pipe that damaged them so and strangely enough it dims more and more as paws slam into it before all the ties are white and the flow stutters to a stop.

Fuck my earlier assumption was wrong I'm not in a better place here, I'm not immune to the acid, but he can just drain the magic off the pipes of any he's near. I can technically try this again but this was a well planned sneak attack, by its definition you can't pull it off often.

Quickly seeing this through I dismount the doorframe, and begin to book it back towards the fake chest room, but my awkward situation having to get off the door frame and the small distance let me down.

The lion grabs the ridiculously weakened pipes, and chucks them at me as I move away, the metal crashes into my armor and I fall to the floor on the narrow hallway in between the rooms.

I quickly scramble onto my feet but it's too late I hear the lion barrel towards me, a horrid screech as they bust through the pipes they just threw at me, as they hook their claws into my legs, and fling me backwards.

As they do so a single thought comes to my mind, if they can shut off the pipes, couldn't they necessarily shut off my armor as well? This thought soon gets interrupted as flames surround me and I scream out.

—

The armor barely protects against the immense heat as its protection is suddenly stripped, the other pieces of functional armor absorb the flames and heal the burns, as they dance back and forth on my skin. But the healing is slower than the damage, and it hurts too.

I frantically look around before I stumble to my feet and scramble over to a blank spot even as I hear metal crumble and screech around me as the lion approaches.

Behind me I hear that godawful thrumming laugh from the lion as they say "Foolish, all you've done is give me a clear shot"

I hear something strange first like a single pull of the strings of a violin before it is interrupted with a much more harsh crack as I feel the steel of my armor burst and bones shatter, and the sheer force of the blow send me backward like a ragdoll stuck in an explosion, my extremities bruising as I slam into pipes along the way, before I slide like a piece of roadkill on an ancient highway into the hallway on the end of the room.