Twisted Wonderland

A State of Inaction

Ortho walks into the control room. "I'm back, Idia. How's testing going for Subject F?"

"Just finished running him through the battle sims." Idia answers without looking up from his tablet. "He is seriously mediocre in every single way. The preliminary report of him being a direbeast with high blot density checks out, though. What we've figured out so far is that he's a magical fusion of a direbeast and some kind of animal. He's got a capacity for thought that's on par with humans. He's as lackluster with magic as he looks and his blot accumulation COULD be phenomenally high."

Ortho tilts his head. "Could be? You're usually much more certain about these things. What makes you say that?"

"Grim's numbers go haywire every time I try to get a precise blot accumulation reading. One moment they spike into the red zone. Like a subject that's gone full Phantom. Then the next moment, they bottom out and go infinitely close to zero. All attempts at blot treatments have had no effect whatsoever. And look at this."

Idia holds out the tablet for Ortho to see. On screen, it shows Grim sleeping on the bed in his room.

"Myah..." Grim muttered in his sleep. "Y/N, gimme a bite o' that dessert..."

"He's sleeping so peacefully." Ortho observes. "And all of his numbers are stable."

Idia rolls his eyes. "He got abducted by a secret organization, and yet there he is, snoozin' away and exposing his tummy. Then again, I'm the Secret Organization Boss placeholder, so who am I to talk? I learned something else from the non-battle tests we had him do. He's got traces of a powerful spell on him."

"I thought the blue flames coming from his ears were a direbeast trait, but," Ortho looks to his brother. "Do you think it's a curse manifesting, like how it is for you?"

Idia shrugs. "I tried analyzing it to see, but it's got layers of complex, interwoven magic. I can't piece the whole thing together. Not even with Styx's supercomputer crunching the numbers. It'd take a century for that analysis to finish. But what I found out from studying the outer layers of the spell is that seriously ancient sorcery's involved."

"How ancient are we talking?" Ortho asks curiously.

"Like, thousand-year-old primeval magic. I've got no idea who cast such a complex spell on Grim, or why they did it. And it's currently unclear whether the blot resistance he has is a blessing or a curse."

"Those are technically the same thing, of course." Ortho tilts his head. "Blessings and curses are both types of sorcery that bestow magic on someone. The only difference is whether there's a positive or negative intent behind it."

Idia nods. "Yup. Same goes for our family curse that incinerates blot the moment it accumulates. Some people would think a guaranteed, overblot-free life is a huge blessing. But I'm sure our illustrious forebears viewed it as a curse placed on them so they'd never revolt again."

Ortho goes quiet for a moment. "The reason the Shroud family was ordered to be the Watchmen of the Island of Woe in perpetuity was because the first family head took the Titans, the original Phantoms, and led them in a revolt against the Jupiter family, right?"

"Yup." Idia folds his arms. "Then the Jupiters chucked 'em in the dumpster. Their punishment was being tasked with managing Tartarus, a prison for Phantoms and the Underworld, the Phantom graveyard."

Idia groans. "What were they thinking, trying to take down the Jupiters just to steal their spot at the top of the family? They must've known their chances were nil. Are they seriously my ancestors? They screwed over their kids, their grandkids, and everyone after that forever. No hopes, no dreams, no nothin'. Over the years, other family heads came up with an idea. They thought if there were no more Phantoms, we'd be freed from watching over this dank, depressing place. So they threw themselves into blot research. But you can see where that got us."

Idia narrows his eyes. "Nowhere. We're still stuck here. Years back, I thought that if we just cast our curse on everybody in the world, the problem would be solved. So I ran an analysis on our curse. But after about three minutes, it hit me. If a curse is designed to incinerate blot, but there's no blot to burn, what would it go for next?"

"It would jump to the source of blot, magic, right?" Ortho asks.

"Bingo." Idia nods. "We HAVE to keep producing blot, negative energy, or else we'll get an MP-draining debuff just from being alive. If all the curse did was burn blot as soon as it accumulated, the Shroud family would be an upbeat band of merry heroes, bursting with magical might."

Idia glowers at the tablet in his hands. "But Dad and Grandma supplemented their magic with technomantic devices. And they were ultra-negative and depressing to be around. It doesn't take a genius to understand this curse sucks royally. Was I dense as a kid or what?"

Ortho stays quiet.

"The way our bodies burn blot nonstop makes us suited to one thing, and only thing only." Idia continues. "Managing the Underworld, the Phantom graveyard deep beneath this island. A vortex of negative energy. It's the slickest curse imaginable! It's from the Age of Gods, after all. Of course I'd be powerless to do anything about it."

"You are a genius, you know." Ortho says. "I bet if you put your mind to it, you could really change things!"

Idia grins. "Well, yeah. I AM pretty exceptional. But I'm not good enough to solve a problem that generations of our ancestors couldn't. I'd just be wasting my time." Idia looks to the floor. "Besides, you can't have forgotten what happened to Ortho when we tried to leave this place."

Ortho only holds his arm.

"My fate was set the moment I was born. My only choice was to spend my life in this dark, miserable place surrounded by spirits. I guess technically we COULD ditch our jobs. But if the Phantoms sealed in Tartarus got loose and made it to the surface, the world would go right back to where it started. Pure chaos. Then my favorite manga would stop, and there'd be no more Premo concerts. And it'd definitely be a bad time for gaming. I've got no IRL hopes or dreams as it is. It'd be the absolute worst if I lost my escapism on top of everything else. That, and I wouldn't have the guts to push reset on the save data my ancestors have grinded levels in for generations."

Idia sighs. "All those people up there, living their happy little lives not knowing a thing about our plight... I couldn't be more jealous."

Ortho hums in thought. "They say the King of the Underworld diligently undertook a duty everyone else feared, guiding the lost souls of the dead. But I wonder if the truth was closer to your situation. That it was a job he did grudgingly because someone made him do it."

Idia scoffs. "The King of the Underworld, grudging? Nah, not a chance. Still, though. If that were the case, well, I was already a fan of the guy, but that'd turn me into a bona fide SUPERFAN."

A ringing sound plays in the microphone.

"Acting Director, all tests for Subjects A through E are complete. We told them to stay in their rooms until the River Lethe was ready, but there's a slight problem..."

Idia rolls his eyes. "Yeah, okay. Be right there. What do those troublemakers want now?" Idia walks over to the door.

"...You could totally do it, Idia."

Idia glances over his shoulder. "Huh? You say something?"

Ortho shakes his head vigorously. "Nope. Not a word. Let's go."