Mortax stared at us. Sighed. Then, in a puff of smoke and mild disapproval, shifted from towering ancient dragon to a sharply dressed human with silver eyes and a tired smirk.
> "Alright," he said. "Enough of this."
He snapped his fingers.
The room shimmered. Expanded. Walls slid back like embarrassed scenery. A ceiling rose ten feet higher.
Dozens of beds appeared. All themed. All unnecessarily personalized.
Kevin's had floating clouds and duck pillows. Lyria's was made of glowing vines and emotionally stable moss. Grubnuk got a bunk made of bread. Clucksworth's had a tiny stage.
Mine? A normal bed. With a sign that said, "Good luck, protagonist."
> "Uhh... what just happened?" Greg asked.
Mortax sipped a cup of something glowing and probably sentient.
> "I got tired of watching you all unravel in front of magical furniture and emotionally unstable wildlife," he said. "So I made you a room."
He turned and gestured dramatically.
> "Welcome to the Interdimensional Chill Zone™."
We all blinked.
> "That's... surprisingly kind of you," I said.
Mortax raised an eyebrow.
> "You think I'm doing this for you? No, no. You lot are far too entertaining to die yet. This is a long game, and I don't want to miss the punchline."
He leaned against a bookshelf that quietly tried to sneak away.
> "Besides," he added, "even chaos needs rest."
We stood in stunned silence. Then slowly, one by one, we collapsed into our respective beds.
> "This feels like a trap," Arc muttered. "It is," Mortax said. "A very comfortable one."
Greg immediately began snoring. Kevin cuddled a cloud. Lyria sank into moss like it owed her money. Grubnuk sobbed into a bread pillow.
I lay back. Stared at the ceiling. And for once—just once—felt peace.
Mortax looked at us all, shaking his head with a smile.
> "They're going to break everything. I love it."
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End of Chapter 35 (Chaos paused. Comfort earned. Mortax approves.)
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