Somewhere not on the material plane, in a place that may as well be the realm of imagination, Bonpricha and her flight continued fighting the good fight that hardly anyone else knew about. That did not make their sacrifices any less important to the mortal world, or their results any less pivotal to weird shit being kept at bay. In her realm, a region partly of her own making thanks to her Intermediate Focus of [Planar], she had carved out a niche where her imagination remained law.

Her realm was a dangerous one, for in a fight, if you thought you were losing, then you surely were. If your illusions had weak backstories, they tended to perform poorly compared to those that had been labored over with hours of writing and storycrafting. Confidence and willpower were the currency of combat, for manifesting too many powerful illusions, the kind that can physically interact with the world, tended to sap one's ego for sustenance.

Perhaps her Greater Focus of [Illusions] was what allowed her own flight to have a fighting chance here. If not that, then her roughly 2,400 years of life allowed her the luxury of knowing exactly what her limits and capabilities were. In this realm, where primordial beings from eons past clashed with those paragons from futures that have not been guaranteed, she had found ample foes upon which to sharpen her claws, both metaphorically and literally. And in this realm, the boundaries between metaphor and reality blurred at the best of times.

However, despite the wonders of her realm, she could not help but feel that she had stagnated, that her self-imposed duties had limited her ability to explore, experience, and generally grow into the best version of herself. She had inherited the mantle of leadership in this unseen war from a flight that had perished when she had been young. With her great responsibility came great power, and knowledge, over the span of centuries, which often proved to be the most pivotal kind of power for tipping the scales in her favor.

It had been over a thousand years now since she had first met him. The Interloper, The Anomaly, The Outsider, The Wander, The Schemer, all this and more had been monikers that had been his to have. He forged secret pacts by brokering knowledge he should not have had access to. One of his earliest deals, as far as Bonpricha knew, had been with her, and she had waited for absolute ages for their shared scheme to come to fruition. He had since merged with his true self, but an emotion that she had thought forever dormant had once again gnawed at the edges of her thoughts as she approached the finish line.

Trepidation.

Her carefully laid plans, her curated machinations, her sacrifices and humiliations, they could all be for naught if her final wager did not pay out. The thought of it vexed her, and the reality of it, should it come to pass, would all but break her. Half a lifetime spent towards a goal, and just to see it go up in smoke would be too much for her to bear.

And here, in the realm where an improper balance of imagination, feelings, and doubts could prove lethal, she found herself in a pickle. She could not simply force herself to feel better, and distractions of leisure and pleasure became less effective over time, not that they ever had the desired potency to begin with.

Through the mixture of nothingness and everything imaginable, a tired little whelp flapped its wings for one final push to land gently before her. So many were coming and going at all times with deliveries that she barely noticed the poor thing. Like so many others, it opened its mouth to make a pathetic and high-pitched cry for attention, but this one had been tasked with a mission that had been so important that she had made certain… modifications, to its sound of alarm.

"YO, BITCH! IMPORTANT MESSAGE HERE!" came a deep, manly, and aggressively rude voice.

As absurd as it may sound, she found herself startled, alarmed, delighted, and anxious at that sound, not because she didn't understand what it meant, but because she precisely knew what it entailed. With a thought, the overly large scroll the poor whelp had been tasked with carrying unfurled before her, and upon it, she read the message that she had been waiting for.

"It is time."

She knew who had sent it, but it had arrived decades before she had anticipated its arrival. However, she had not thrived her way to such a coveted lifespan without having contingencies for contingencies, and before the scroll had even been tucked away where none but her would ever see it, her many minds set about the process of activating a good number of them.

Every flight is different, but for Bonpricha, she could honestly say that she loved and valued her children. She wanted the best for them, and so what would come to pass only left her feeling torn. Many would see her future actions as a betrayal, but ultimately, it was her final sacrifice to ensure that her children lived as long as possible. For she knew, as all dragons do, that no dragon dies of old age. Only violence, accidents, or the wrath of gods brings about their demise. If her plan worked, while her flight would be admittedly weaker in some ways, it would have such resiliency as to perhaps last thousands of years beyond what fate, fortune, and uncompromising statistics would otherwise permit.

All of it hinged on her plan working. If she failed, the results would most likely be catastrophic and cascade into utter destruction. And while she was normally loath to hinge anything on chance or circumstances outside her control, everything came down to the acceptance of an offer, one that she had been working towards with all her effort and heart in every way imaginable to tip the odds in her favor. Arguably, her wager could be seen as entirely selfish, for she alone would rise while her flight would be left behind. But maybe, just maybe, if they stayed alive for long enough, she could find a way to save them too, one scheme at a time.

After some time, the passing of which was largely irrelevant with this plane so "close" to that of The Void, her contingencies and final instructions to her flight were complete. It had been a millennia since she had personally set foot into the material plane herself, for she usually sent puppets or illusions. However, nothing but her true self would suffice this time. With one final look back at her closest servants, her trustworthy friends, and her beloved children, she used her [Planar] Abilities to tear open a passageway to the material plane.

She prayed they would understand. She hoped they would thrive as she had planned. She imagined a world where they understood and forgave her. And in this realm where imagination begets reality, maybe, just maybe, her final thoughts before her departure would see fruition.

Long ago, in a time almost beyond memory, there was a land like no other. The people prospered, they lived in happiness, and they put aside war in favor of collaborating to discover what more there could be. Empires coexisted with borders that had not been pushed or expanded for generations. Truly, it was a paradise beyond comparison. Or at least, that is how contemporaries may describe it before it fell.

For those who remember, that survived such a time, they would describe it differently. Gods, titans, entities that stood half a step from divinity, and alien and almost indescribable things from beyond remained the bulk of those who had witnessed the fall.

It had started innocently enough. Curious minds sought to understand how the world worked, and with one invention after another, they expanded the boundaries of science. They married magic and machine together in ways that made lives easier and more enjoyable, and seeing no harm in continuing the trend, they explored the limits of possibility.

Few understand how it all went wrong. Fewer still are willing to talk about it. Only scraps of truth have trickled down to the new age that came afterwards. Some say it was inevitable, for the ancient histories of various cultures all show that it had happened many times over as one wave gave way to another. What those of the present day can agree upon, what they knew as mandated by the gods, is that it should never again be repeated.

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Only echoes and shadows of those times and those civilizations remain. [Misbegotten Nursery] is one such place. Unbeknownst to most, there are dozens more Dungeons just like it, scattered around the world in places where people rarely tread and from where fewer still ever return. Each one remains as a scar and testament to the fall that most now refer to as The Sundering.

While I, as The Dragon of Roads, have the privilege of knowing more of the full details thanks to me being a demigod, back in those days, I knew very little indeed about so many matters perhaps best left forgotten. Maybe Sanagba Imuru, He-Who-Saw-The-Abyss, decided to place The Tower in the general region of [Misbegotten Nursery] because I was familiar with the area. Maybe he did it to be nice, since it was far enough out of the way to not attract unwanted attention, but close enough that I could easily get to it. What I do know is that he accelerated the timetable for one of my trials towards divinity, for which he only got a slap on the wrist, perhaps in part due to my success.

One could say he made the right choice, for it all worked out well in the end. Well, at least for me and mine. Others might say that it all happened too soon, and only luck saw us through the times that followed. The absolute truth about such matters does not exist, and indeed, with hindsight being what it is, I cannot say that I find fault with it.

What I do know, beyond all reason of a doubt, is that The Tower appearing when and where it did completely disrupted Kaisadoro's schedule. I think he still holds a grudge, for every now and then, he will make a reference to it.

I went about my day, doing Emperor things, when a presence made itself known to me. While my [Age] was beyond that of Bonpricha, I still lacked the [Deeds] she had, and likewise, I was lacking in Authority compared to her. My power was potent but untested, whereas hers was forged from fallen friends and foes alike. So, when she appeared within my holdings, I knew something big was afoot.

I could tell that it was not a facsimile of her own person, but rather, that she herself had appeared. A very quick conversation with a concerned Nanu confirmed that Bonpricha had not entered the mortal world within Nanu's lifetime, so this was a big deal to say the least. Hopefully, it would be a red-letter day, but I somehow doubted she traveled here for tea and biscuits.

I did not sense any Kings with her, which was a good start. It is highly frowned upon for Kings to enter the territory of another Emperor without invitation, as such could be seen as an act of war. An Empress, coming alone, uninvited, was not unheard of, and social norms dictated that it was an intention for serious and peaceful discussion combined with urgency that demanded my attention and hospitality.

As such, I had to drop what I was doing (sorry Chooka) and immediately address Bonpricha's appearance. Some ten minutes later, on one of many low dunes within the Ashlands outside of World's End, Bonpricha and I met face to face in mortal form.

"Salutations, Bonpricha. To what do I owe the honor?"

"The Tower has appeared," she replied tersely. "It should have showed up decades from now, but the luxury of time and further preparations are no longer ours. We have no way of knowing for how long it will remain in our world, and so, we must hasten to enter it lest our window of opportunity closes prematurely.

"I will accompany you within. Bring the egg I entrusted to you and whatever allies you need, but please, don't bring an army. We must have a small enough force to move swiftly, but a large enough one to be able to complete any trial in our path."

As she spoke, she opened a pocket dimension and withdrew from it one of her whelps. Normally, living things cannot enter pocket dimensions or any sort of dimensional storage containers, but whelps blur that line as they are more akin to magical constructs than truly living things. As she spoke, I took the same actions, and before her words were finished, we had exchanged whelps so that we would have a direct line of communication to and awareness with one another.

"I hope to be ready within an hour. I must make final preparations and leave instructions for my absence, and indeed, collect my companions for this task."

"Very well," she replied with a small nod. "I shall depart immediately for The Tower."

She left it unsaid that my whelp, taken with her, would give me all the information I needed as to where The Tower could be found. To spell it out for me could be seen as an insult, and indeed, if she had to do that, we were probably doomed.

Without delay, she transformed into her draconic self as I did likewise. It seemed so long ago now, and also, like only yesterday when I saw just her massive arm throw a doll down to earth from a portal opened in the sky. Now, side by side for just a moment, I saw that she was now smaller than my own body. I took that with a grain of salt, for, for all I knew, she was making herself as small as possible within the limits of what the world could tolerate, and that she may in fact continue to be larger than me at her "natural" size. Even still, it impressed upon me just how much bigger I had become, even though I remained rather lithe of figure.

Before I even returned in person to World's End, I had used my whelps to deliver instructions. I knew that I would someday need to address the matter of The Tower, and so I had already made plans for how to address my absence. It also helped that Nabonidus knew that The Tower had arrived and that he had already set gears into motion to ensure that people took the appropriate actions to handle the situation.

As I arrived at a certain location within World's End, I recovered a certain egg that Bonpricha had left in my care, one that had become mostly green and purple. I say that, because sometimes when the egg seems to think I am not looking, it changes colors. Either way, the egg is fit for a Princess, and I could only imagine what plans Bonpricha had in store for it. Most likely, it was for something taboo, as sharing eggs between flights is scandalous. Usually, one flight acquires the eggs of another through theft or by strong-arming another at a negotiation table. I chose to keep an open mind and trust Bonpricha within reason.

After I had the egg secured in a warped pocket of real space in a physical pocket on my person, I proceeded to travel to a nearby room where those chosen to accompany me awaited.

All told, Nabonidus, Bellwright Muddlespoon, Alterez, Torborg, Chooka, It-Has-Pockets, and Jericho were in attendance as single entities. Naturally, Skull had been with me the whole time, for she cannot stray far from me. Indeed, for the sake of the illusion of privacy for my guests, she typically lingers with the Shadow Path. Furthermore, Gambino and Bambina counted as one entity, for their souls had been together long enough as lovers as to be inseparable. Indeed, their Dual Blessing, that of [Twin-Souled Draconic Scions], accounted for that. In much the same boat, Relarina, Blythnin, and Serideth were also one person as far as most matters were concerned.

So, by that math, I had ten companions. Nanu, as my advisor, makes eleven. Bonpricha tagging along makes twelve. With me as the leader, we are thirteen in total, which is an ominous number.

My other children had their orders. The Boys were busy keeping all the hydras from going feral at World's Hope, and Hopper and Ribbette were busy being body guards to The Boys. The [Nobles] and various administrators that remained ostensibly subservient to me had been issued their instructions. Everyone else was either too essential to fighting off The Devourers to accompany me, too weak to be of much use, or lacking in sufficient levels of my confidence in them to be trusted with what we were about to do.

We had all of our equipment, tools, and other essentials packed away in our various pocket dimensions, with a perhaps questionably large abundance of backups and spares that may make us appear paranoid. However, considering we are venturing into the unknown for an indeterminate amount of time, going in with as much as we can carry may be the height of prudence.

A short time later, after a bit of teleportation and, for my companions, a ride on the back of a very magnificent, powerful, generous, competent, and humble Emperor dragon, we found ourselves coming to land before a very large tower and a very small dragon. Well, the dragon was none other than Bonpricha, and she was the same size as last I saw her, so that made the scale of The Tower stand out in contrast to her. As big as she and I were, we were not as large as either of the double doors on The Tower, and the doors were just a small blip on the front of it.

The Tower was covered in carvings of heroic figures from bottom to the presumed top. We couldn't actually see the top; you just sorta keep craning your neck upwards to see it and The Tower sorta keeps going and going. Maybe it is compensating for something.

"Huh, think this tower is compensating for something?" came the humorous question from Chooka as she addressed everyone else.

And that's just another confirmation of why she is the best woman in my life and that I remain fortunate that she loves me.

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