The grand summary of the things John learned from Metra while they stepped through the mall was as followed: Lorylim were of unknown nature, but their origins could be traced back to the sinking of the mythological continent of Lemuria. They appeared mostly as a corrupting force that infested beings that travelled between planes by stretching outside their own; only sometimes did they manifest as monsters of their own shape. There were five general stages to their attempts at corruption, being seduction, guidance, silence, songs and finally the fall. The quickest way to identify a Lorylim infested being was to search for their third eye.

“And I do mean that like the third eye of enlightenment,” Metra specified as she picked a hand-pistol off the wall in the weapons shop they were inside. “Opening a third eye is, after all, achieving understanding with a higher plane of existence. To open a Lorylim eye all you need to be is a really good puppet, and they are rather easy to discern from other third eyes.”

She aimed the silencer-equipped pistol at John and pulled the trigger. The bullet flew into a dimensional tear and reappeared when it hit the target, way off the centre.

“I like these things,” the berserker babe said and put it back on the wall, “but learning to aim them would be pretty useless. Not like they would deal any significant damage.”

“Ay, a strong person like you wouldn’t need anything in the way of firearms,” the dwarf behind the counter said. “Unless you have the money to shoot pure Elementium or are skilled in manifesting energy projectiles, guns are a really bad choice of weaponry. You look more like the sword kind of girl to me, lass.”

“Actually, I prefer spears,” Metra corrected, “and, honestly, I am just here to check the assortment. There is no way you have something better than my current weapon.”

“HAH! You believe that, but…” with a nonchalant gesture the ancient weapon grabbed Qiada from John’s inventory and presented it to the dwarf, “…you would also be right. My apologies.”

“No offense taken, bearded dude,” Metra announced and made the weapon disappear again. “I will drop in again, nothing like weapon watching,” she promised. The dwarf looked happy about that, even if it was just for the company of a fellow weapon’s enthusiast.

John stepped out of the shop first and met everyone else, they were sitting on a sort of couch in the middle of the central hallway. “Can you believe they just have a weapons store -with loaded guns- in the middle of a mall?” he asked and received nods from everyone around.

“I can totes believe that, doesn’t even sound weird to me,” Rave told him, “that’s like asking if I find spell stores weird, the people inside there are just dangerous.”

“I reserve myself a right to maintain some of my healthy, real life born scepticism,” he told her.

Eliza groaned, “Can we just get the fuck out here? All these people make me dizzy. I want to get back into the pool. That thing is awesome.”

“Yeah, not gonna lie,” Rave added, “all I want to do is check out the club this evening; I could go sunbath for a few more hours before it gets dark. So, wanna head back Eliza?”

“Wherever there are less of these sweaty meatsacks, although I don’t want to be too far away from John with this thing in my head scheming something,” the blood mage was appropriately cautious.

“Ah, don’t worry gal, I gotcha,” Rave smirked.

“The fuck do you mean by that?” Eliza raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“That ya love me and ya know it, so I am going to scream your name at your face in the emergency situation,” that declaration was met with laughter that quickly faded into a confused squeaking sound.

“Wait, how the shit are you not wrong about that?! You are a girl, I can’t just love you! That’s gay as fuck!”

“Sure ya can, cause I am awesome,” Rave said and patted her on the head. “I mean, to list things why ya should love me in the first place, I am the second highest person in this harem and I have been super nice to ya, except the times were we have sex and I spank ya however I like and all that. Reasons aside, tho, I can totally see how ya look at me sometimes, ya adorable dwarf.”

“Yeah, but… emotions are bullshit!” Eliza declared, obviously confused about herself still.

“Tell me about it,” Rave said, “in the pool, anyone else coming with?”

“Siena already jumped shadows,” John told them and was thusly glared at by the nightmare elemental, sticking the upper half of her face out of the floor. “Yes, I had to ruin your jumpscare,” he told her, but the glare persisted for the rest of the discussion. “But what about the restaurant, Jane? You don’t want to eat there?”

“Oh, right, that’s a thing… well, I really wanna get back in the pool, so I guess Eliza and I will plunder the pantry for a snack and ya can just bring us something back?”

He could live with that arrangement, and a couple more of decisions later, it was only him and Aclysia that decided to stay and explore the ship some more.

“You are dangerously defenceless right now, John,” the weaponized maid remarked as they went back into the moving crowd. It was at that middle density where people were all around but not packed in such a manner that fast walking individuals couldn’t weave through. On this occasion, John walked slow through the gold decorated white hallway with the storefronts made entirely from glass. Whoever the designer of this ship was must have really loved his transparent walls.

“It’s fine,” he told her, “the teleports are not on cooldown and it’s not like I am truly defenceless these days. I have a buttload of health, Mana Protection shields a lot of stuff and I have some good resistances even out of armour. Anyway, I want to talk to you about something, Aclysia,” she listened up, which only meant a change of posture rather than attention, “I think you may have jumped on the crazy train a bit.”

“Pardon?” Aclysia tilted her head with a confused expression on her face.

“I mean that you are becoming overprotective to an uncomfortable degree,” he elaborated. “Don’t get me wrong, I love that you look out for me, but threatening people at knife point because they say a few bad things about me or our loves is overkill.”

“Have I been a burden?” the weaponized maid sounded deeply saddened, her head hanging down in apology and discomfort. “It’s just that their words feel so inadequate and it makes me angry. They should know how great you are and act with at least a baseline of respect.”

He took her hand in his with a smile, “You could never be a burden, Aclysia,” he spoke with urgent calmness and love, “but the baseline of respect you want everyone to have towards me is just set too high. I mean, what do you think would be appropriate?”

“The men should watch their words and the women drop their pants when addressing you,” Aclysia told him straightforwardly.

Now that made him wheeze a bit, from surprise and amusement, “Yeah, no, that is definitely not happening.” Aclysia looked slightly annoyed by that revelation. “And I don’t mind. I have all of you; as far as women go, I am pretty content, and all I want from other people is the basic civility we all should have for each other. For… friendly acquaintances like Maximillian, it is totally fine if they insult me a bit, it’s just talk between dudes… I think.”

“You think?” Aclysia asked, hearing the doubt that ended that sentence.

“Not like I had a lot of male friends before this,” he explained as they hit the end of the mall and with it the usual pair of moving vertically in a building, elevators and a flight of stairs. They chose to use the stairs, as the line of lazy people waiting for an elevator was so long that they would lose more time and energy standing there than could ever be preserved by being carried upwards. “With that queen-bitch Vanessa and her boy-toys blocking basically every attempt at friendships I could make.”

“She sounds like she needs to be teased, fucked onto the edge of orgasm by your outstanding skills and then left clam-jammed,” Aclysia commented. “Although I do not like the idea of someone of her character getting to sleep with you, John.”

“Sure…” he did like that image; Vanessa had been hot last time he saw her, and he doubted that changed in the half-a-year that passed since, the idea had a certain appeal. “But this is pretty much exactly what I mean when I say you have been spending some time on the crazy train, suggestions like that are what we would generally call ‘screwed up’.”

“Wasn’t it your own statement towards Eliza that we are all a bit screwed in the head?” Aclysia asked.

“Yes, that is half the quote, what is the other half?” John had the feeling he was about to get where he wanted to be at.

“That we also need to hide it in order to be socially acceptable… ah, I understand now,” the weaponized maid nodded to herself. “So my personal, and in my opinion correct, belief as to how everyone should act towards you is alienating to others, and as such I shouldn’t express it by pointing my swords at people.”

“Now you got it,” John praised and kissed her on the cheek to have her remember that train of thought. Also because her soft and pale cheeks were just that kissable and he wanted to smell her hair, it was lavender scented today. “Don’t get me wrong, it is pretty attractive when you get that aggressive to defend me, but it also gets in the way. I do enjoy bantering with Maximillian, and there will be times when people taunt me to get this sort of reaction, be it because they are paparazzi or just assholes. So, I need you to learn to hold back, okay?”

“I will do my best,” Aclysia promised. “I will not be a burden to you in any way. It would help me if you could formulate a sort of list of people who you are fine to be minorly verbally abused by. As you may have noticed I do not feel this sort of emotional backlash towards people in your harem.”

He nodded, “I did notice that, rather hard not to. Is that like a conscious decision you make or why do you need a list?”

“It is easier for people I can feel your affection for; your love fills my being like a fire and I love them as you do. As a baseline, that is. I prioritize my personal feelings over yours as to maintain my individuality. I do not enact this for your friendships, but I will try to act like I do by enacting a meditative exercise.”

“What would that exercise even be like?” John laughed.

“Whenever I feel the urge to stab someone, I shall instead imagine their heads exploding,” she presented her idea, and John laughed even louder.

“That’s better and something many people do already, so I say you should go with that,” they arrived on the very top of the stairs and stepped into the restaurant. “It’s time to test the food,” he announced.

There was another line in front of the reception desk. Even though it moved rather quickly, John didn’t feel like standing in there, and like always he had an excuse not to. He just walked up straight to the desk and showed his VIP card. The waiter called for one of his co-workers who then guided John through the restaurant.

The colour scheme was like everywhere else on the ship: white and blue dominated through tablecloth and carpet with the light brown of birch complementing the looks and glass making up a majority of the walls. The circular tables of varying sizes stood at such distances from each other that lively chatter filled the air but you could only hear someone on a neighbouring table if they were particularly loud or one really wanted to hear them.

John, however, was the VIP of this cruise, so he was guided to a separate area on the second floor, a room outfitted with a small balcony and nicely isolated to a degree where the chatter became a distant whisper. A thing that they could change on a nearby panel, just like the light that shone through the windows.

“Do you want me to stay here or would you like privacy, sir?” the waiter that had guided them here asked after providing two menus. Although Aclysia did not eat, she flipped through the pages, reading the summary of ingredients.

“Please stay, I am sure I will make my choice any second now,” he told the waiter.