The Dangers of Frustration

Blue and white lights fluttered in and out of existence, illuminating the opening to a truly massive cavern. The Jackdaw's tracker stared in awe as he took in the sights.

For as far as the eye could see, stone trees grew abundantly from rolling, stone hills. This region was larger than any other expanse of the labyrinth the Jackdaws had ever witnessed. The roof of the cavern went up so far that it couldn't be seen, even with the illumination from the ethereal blue and white lights. It was like a beautiful mountain forest landscape that had been completely petrified. Beautiful might not be the best description for this view, but it was certainly awe-inspiring.

The Jackdaw's tracker remained still for a moment to take in the sights, then gave a silent sigh and turned his eyes back to the cavern floor.

Strange shapes had been stamped into the ground here, tracks which supposedly belonged to the demon the Jackdaw party had been following. Where before the tracks were found in soft ground and cave clay, here they were found in crushed patches of stone grass.

Glancing back to the rest of the party, the tracker gave a silent signal to continue forward.

The party continued their slow pursuit in absolute silence. They were still deep in noctic abomination territory and didn't dare risk triggering another attack. There were originally twelve Jackdaw men who descended on this job, but after the recent bloodbath, only seven remained.

Included among those seven was the Mortician, the hired spellcrafter who hid his face behind a white clay mask. The one... who may or may not practice some form of necromancy to craft his spells. Thanks to him, they were able to suppress most of the noise made by the group as long as they moved slowly through the labyrinth.

His services would cost the Jackdaws a tremendous amount, but not making use of the Mortician's skill would mean high chances of a gruesome death in a dreadful place.

The Jackdaws had a tougher time moving in this cavern, since they had to avoid stepping on anything that might crunch. This was very difficult, because the ground was littered with stone grass and stone pine needles. Suppressing the increased noise put more strain on the Mortician's mass stealth spell, so they had to let him rest far more often.

The tracker stopped the party, signaling to rest. However, his eyes were fixed and he refused to look away. Up ahead, he could clearly see the demon's tracks leading into a petrified log cabin. It seemed it had come and gone from that building a number of times.

The party grew tense. The stakes were as high as could be.

In the very near future, everyone here would either be very rich... or very dead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A sinking feeling gripped the mind of the machine.

'Who ... am I?'

Of all the memories which he could perfectly recall, there wasn't even one instance where he could find mention of his own name. It wasn't spoken by any friends, nor written in any document. It was as if someone or something didn't want him to know who he was.

The machine's eyes peered at the ground in front of him. He was deep in thought as he walked aimlessly through the petrified forest. Stone grass crunched underfoot with each step. It was normally a very satisfying sound and gave him a refreshing feeling, but right now it wasn't doing much to put his mind at ease.

One's personality is constantly shaped by one's experiences, and you could argue that memories make up a large portion of who you are.

Thud.

The machine's thoughts were interrupted when a noctic abomination attacked him from the side. However, it was killed almost instantly. The machine shook the creature's blood from his claw disgustedly.

In the last few days, he had been attacked a number of times, but the abominations were mostly harmless to him. They looked hideous and frightening, but never once had their claws caused him any damage beyond a scratch. At this point, they were little more than a nuisance.

Barely even looking at his now-dead assailant, the machine continued on his way.

Numerous philosophical considerations passed through his mind. Was he really the same person without some of his memories? Perhaps there was someone responsible for their loss. Then again, he had actually died and been reincarnated, so maybe it was ethically acceptable for some deity to mess with the fabric of his soul and make him a new person.

Thud.

His thoughts were temporarily interrupted as another noctic abomination's claws bounced off his back. He was growing tired of the mindless creatures' antics. Throwing one arm behind him, he caught his new attacker by the throat and violently threw it overhead, killing it by slamming its face into the ground.

The philosophies resumed.

Assuming someone was responsible for the current state of his mind implied the existence of at least one deity. But when he was reincarnated, it felt like there wasn't anyone calling the shots on the other end. The process seemed automated. What reincarnated him might not have been some holy god. Maybe it was some system put in place to reincarnate souls automatically. After all, you couldn't expect a god to personally handle every single departed soul. If that were the case, maybe there was a glitch in the system and he lost memories because of it? Or... maybe the glitch was that he got to keep some of his memories?

Thud. Thud.

Two more abominations jumped from the shadows and threw themselves against him, accomplishing nothing in their attack like always.

The machine's annoyance grew, as it had only been a couple of minutes since the last attack. This time, he dispatched his attackers with a little more force than necessary. Sickly blood spattered everywhere as he let out his frustration.

He left their corpses behind and yet again returned to his thoughts.

'If there is a reincarnation system and it truly glitched, then there might be others like me. But it would be strange if memory retention was the only thing that went wrong. Is it actually functioning properly? We honestly might not have even understood reincarnation correctly in my previous life.'

Thud. Thud. Thud. THUD.

Several more abominations jumped on him again, this time only a few seconds after the last attack.

'Why are there so many today?!'

The machine threw out an attack and started to cut down the pests, this time genuinely angry due to the continued interruptions. He tore through the first few and crushed the skull of another. But before he could finish off the last one, it bashed a claw against the machine's back, causing him to stumble slightly.

At this point, the machine was pissed.

Grabbing the last abomination, he crushed each of its limbs. Then, seeing there was a cliff nearby, decided he would toss the beast to its death. He dragged it over to the ledge then lifted it up over his head, ready to throw it down with as much force as possible. But when he looked down, the machine suddenly froze.

Way down- at the bottom of the cliff- he could see movement.

There was a mass of sickly, pale flesh. It squirmed about as if it were a billion maggots, feasting on some unknown behemoth's carcass.

The machine was trying to process what he was seeing when the mutilated creature he had been prepared to throw suddenly let out a miserable shriek.

Almost immediately, the squirming mass below lit up with the reflections of countless eyes.