January 2, 2026 — 06:55 AM | Rest Period — Time Remaining: 23 Hr 05 Min
The swirling vortex of neon-blue light collapsed with a sound like a blown subwoofer. The heavy pressure that had filled the room—the "calamity" Malenia had sensed—vanished instantly, leaving only the smell of ozone, wet fur, and vinegar.
Gilbert stood amidst the settling dust, his arms still spread wide in a pose of triumphant commandment. His Neko-Maid shirt was soaked in sweat, clinging to his doughy frame. He waited for the silhouette of a demon lord, a dragon, or at least a big-tiddy goth sorceress to emerge from the smoke.
"Behold!" Gilbert wheezed, his voice cracking with anticipation. "The second pillar of my dynasty! The Tank!"
The smoke cleared.
There was no demon lord. There was no sorceress.
Standing on the lube-slicked concrete, shivering so violently he was vibrating like a Nokia brick on silent mode, was a dog.
He was small. He was pink. He had spindly, stick-figure legs and large, terrified eyes that bulged out of his head.
"OA-OA-OAHHHHH!"
The creature let out a high-pitched, warbling scream, his mouth opening impossibly wide, revealing a singular gold tooth. He looked around the dimly lit, blood-red bunker, saw the wall of "Milf-Hunter" DVDs, saw the rotting fungal meat on the fire, and finally locked eyes with the greasy giant towering over him.
Gilbert's hands dropped to his sides. His jaw went slack.
"What..." Gilbert squinted, leaning forward. "What is that?"
The pink dog backed away, walking on his hind legs. He babbled something incoherent—a stream of high-speed gibberish that sounded like a mix of English and a panic attack.
"Muriel! The chair! The scary man! Ooga-booga-booga!"
"Wait," Gilbert muttered. He adjusted his glasses, stepping over a puddle of green ichor. "I know you. You're... you're that old cartoon. The cowardly one. From the 90s."
He pulled out his phone. The chat was already scrolling so fast it was a blur of colors.
[LIVE FEED: UTAH SECTOR CHAT]
Gamer_God_69: "NO WAY. LMAO. IS THAT COURAGE?! 🐶💀"
SLC_Savage: "HE PULLED A DOG. HE PULLED THE PINK DOG. HAHAHAHA! 🤣"
Nostalgia_Ultra: "Bro, that is S-Tier. Courage survives everything. Aliens, ghosts, abusive owners. He's unironically tankier than Gilbert."
Vile_Virtue: "Gilbert wanted a Harem and got a Beagle. The System is sentient and it is roasting him. 10/10 Content. 🍿"
Void_Walker: "The irony. The Cowardly Dog summoned by the Cowardly Neckbeard. Mirrors reflecting mirrors."
Gilbert stared at the screen, then back at the dog. The disappointment was a physical weight in his stomach. He had spent his cooldown. He had hyped the stream. And he had rolled... a mascot.
"A waste," Gilbert spat, the venom in his voice causing Courage to flinch and turn into a puddle of pink liquid on the floor. "I get an EX-Rank summoning skill, and I pull a gag character? This RNG is rigged."
Sho (Development): The Rot and the Runt
While Gilbert fumed, Malenia moved.
The Blade of Miquella, who had been ready to sever the head of a demon, lowered her katana. She took a step forward, the unalloyed gold of her greaves clanking softly on the floor.
Courage solidified instantly. He looked up at the towering demigod in the winged helmet. His eyes popped out of his skull, extending on stalks, accompanied by a metallic clank sound effect. He let out a whimper, grabbed his own tail, and used it to cover his eyes.
Malenia knelt.
The movement was fluid, graceful, and terrifying. She reached out with her flesh hand—the one not made of unyielding gold—and grabbed Courage by the loose skin of his neck.
Courage went stiff as a board. He stopped breathing. A tiny ghost rose from his body, playing a harp, before being sucked back in.
Malenia turned his head left, then right. She inspected his trembling snout, his spotted back, and the aura of absolute terror radiating from him.
"He is... frail," Malenia murmured, her voice hollow and echoing inside her helm. "He bears no rot. Yet he shakes as if afflicted."
"He's useless is what he is," Gilbert grumbled, kicking at a loose piece of cardboard. "Just ignore him. Maybe we can use him as bait for the next wave to draw aggro."
Malenia ignored Gilbert. She ran her thumb over Courage's ear. It was soft.
"Thou art fearful," she said quietly. "Thy spirit is besieged by terrors unseen. I know this weight well."
Courage cracked one eye open. He looked at the golden woman. She wasn't killing him. In fact, under the terrifying helmet, the vibe wasn't murderous. It was... solemn. Respectful.
"Strange beast," Malenia said. She released him. She did not smile—Malenia did not smile—but she inclined her head slightly, a warrior acknowledging a fellow sufferer. "Thy vigilance is noted."
Courage melted into a puddle of relief, letting out a long, deflating sigh that sounded like a whoopee cushion.
"Hey! Focus!" Gilbert snapped, clapping his hands. "I don't care if you're bonding. I care about utility."
He loomed over the dog. Courage scrambled back to his feet, engaging in a frantic series of shape-shifting charades to explain his resume.
"Listen up, stupid dog. I am the Guild Master of this sector. You work for me now. And since you clearly have zero combat stats, you're on janitorial duty."
Courage blinked. He looked around at the bunker. He saw the piles of trash. He saw the "stains." He saw the general state of Gilbert's existence.
He grabbed his head and screamed. "The things I do for love!"
"English, mutt!" Gilbert barked. "Clean this place up. Organize the loot. And..."
Gilbert paused. He looked toward the back room—the "Manager's Office" which contained a single, stained mattress and a lockable door. A wicked, greasy idea formed in his mind.
"I need to... cycle my energy," Gilbert said, adjusting his glasses. "Private cultivation session. High-level mental processing."
He leaned down, whispering to the trembling dog. "While I'm in there, you go through the shelves. Any DVD with a woman over the age of 20... pile them by the door. Understood? Especially if they have 'exquisite' proportions."
Courage looked at Gilbert. He looked at the "Milf-Hunter" covers. His jaw dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.
"Get to it," Gilbert sneered. He turned to the air. "Chat, I'm going dark. Don't go anywhere. The Alpha needs to meditate."
[STREAM PAUSED: HOST HAS ENABLED PRIVACY MODE]
Gilbert disappeared into the back room. The lock clicked.
For the next four hours, the bunker was a landscape of misery.
Courage worked. He found a broom that was mostly bristles and no handle. He swept the concrete. He organized the cans of Monster Energy into pyramids. He tried to stack the "Waifu-Pillows," but they were stiff and unpleasant to touch, causing him to scream silently and wash his paws in a bucket of imaginary water.
Every twenty minutes, a strange, guttural groan would echo from behind the locked door.
"Oooooogh... Malenia-chan... yes... the scaling…ooh...you like that don'tcha kitten...fuck"
Courage would freeze, his ears shooting up like antennae. He would look at Malenia, who was sitting by the door, polishing her prosthetic blade with a rag.
She did not react. She sat in meditative silence, her mind far away at the Haligtree, waiting for Miquella. The noises of the wretched Tarnished meant nothing to a demigod.
Courage, however, was not a demigod. He whimpered, scrubbing a sticky spot on the floor. He mumbled to the empty air.
"I want to go home... there's something naughty in that room..."
The door to the Manager's Office creaked open.
Gilbert emerged.
He looked worse than before. His hair was matted to his forehead with fresh sweat. His face was flushed a deep, unhealthy crimson. He walked with a slight limp, hitching up his sweatpants.
"Fuck," Gilbert sighed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "That was an intense session. The post-nut clarity... I mean, the mana clarity... is unparalleled."
He looked around. The floor was swept. The cans were stacked.
"Acceptable," he muttered.
Suddenly, a sound ripped through the room—louder than the summoning portal.
GURGLE.
Gilbert clutched his stomach. "Man, I am hungry. Yo, Courage."
Courage's eyes snapped open from where he dozed. He scrambled to his feet, saluting.
"I need protein," Gilbert said. "And I'm not wasting my stamina. You go get it."
Courage blinked. He pointed to himself. Me?
"Yes, you," Gilbert said. He pointed a greasy finger toward the corner. "Use that."
Courage looked. Lying on the concrete was the Fungal Serrated Blade—the heavy, obsidian slab that Gilbert had failed to lift earlier.
[LIVE FEED: UTAH SECTOR CHAT]
Provo_Prepper_88: "Is he serious? That sword weighs more than the dog. Physics still exists, Gilbert."
Vile_Virtue: "Gilbert couldn't lift it, so he's sending the gag character? This man is a menace. I love it."
Gamer_God_69: "Bro, you failed the Strength Check with a humanoid build. What makes you think a 'Small Beast' class can pass it? This is just cruel RNG manipulation. 📉"
Beehive_Babe: "STOP IT! Look at his little paws shaking! 😭 Gilbert, if you squash that dog, I am unsubscribing from life."
SLC_Savage: "He's literally outsourcing his physical labor to a cartoon. This is peak Neckbeard efficiency. He'd summon a waifu just to open a jar of pickles. 🥒🤡"
Utah_Momma_Jen: "That blade is filthy! He's going to get tetanus! Someone take that poor baby away from that monster! Where is the manager?!"
Courage walked over to the blade. He looked at Gilbert, his eyes pleading. He morphed his body into the shape of a tiny ant, then back to a dog, trying to explain his lack of strength.
"Don't give me excuses," Gilbert snapped. "It's a stat check. Stop being a casual. Pick it up, or I'll feed you to Malenia."
Courage whimpered. He grabbed the handle.
He pulled. His back arched. His eyes bulged out of his head, turning bloodshot.
HNNNNGGGG.
The blade didn't move. Courage strained until his face turned a dark shade of fuchsia. He let go, panting, his tongue unrolling like a carpet on the floor.
"Don't be weak," Gilbert hissed. "I am your Summoner. Pick it up, you stupid dog."
"Thy command is foolish."
The voice was cool, detached, and absolute.
Gilbert spun around. Malenia was standing there. She had left her post.
"Malenia-chan!" Gilbert laughed nervously, putting his hands up. "Just... power-leveling! You know? Gotta grind the low-level mobs. Tough love."
Malenia stopped in front of Courage. She knelt down again.
The dog looked up, shaking. He babbled, pointing at the sword, then at his spindly arms.
Malenia listened. She did not look at Gilbert. She looked at the weapon—a crude, ugly thing of rot and rock.
"This is no blade," Malenia stated, her voice filled with a quiet disdain for the craftsmanship. "It is a bludgeon. And this creature..." She looked at Courage. "...is no soldier. He is a vassal."
She reached down and gently pried Courage's paws from the sword hilt. Courage let go, sobbing with relief, hugging her golden greave.
"You hunger?" Malenia asked the dog.
Courage nodded frantically, his stomach growling to match Gilbert's.
"Then we shall hunt," Malenia declared. "But we shall do so with honor."
She stood up. With one fluid motion, she scooped the pink dog up into the crook of her flesh arm. Courage settled in instantly, snuggling against her chest plate, looking at Gilbert and blowing a raspberry.
"Wait," Gilbert stammered. "Malenia? The perimeter? You can't just leave the—"
Malenia turned toward the door. Gilbert stood in her path, trying to assert his dominance.
"I didn't give the order to—"
Malenia did not slow down. She did not acknowledge his hitbox. She simply walked forward.
Her golden shoulder—solid, unyielding metal—collided with Gilbert's chest. It wasn't a shove; it was the unstoppable force of a demigod meeting the movable object of a discord moderator.
CRACK.
"Gah!"
The physics engine of reality took over. Gilbert was launched backward, spinning in the air before slamming face-first into a puddle of cold lubricant.
"The hell did I do, Malenia-chan?!" he shrieked, his voice muffled by the floor.
Malenia didn't look back. She kicked the barricade open with a single, thunderous blow, the rot-butterfly wings of her helmet glinting in the light.
"Come, little one," she whispered to the dog. "Let us find prey worthy of the Scarlet Rot."
[LIVE FEED: UTAH SECTOR CHAT]
SLC_Savage: "HITBOX PORNO. SHE JUST WALKED THROUGH HIM. 🏀🔥"
Gamer_God_69: "Malenia just adopted the dog and disowned the owner. I'm dying. 😂"
Vile_Virtue: "NTR! It's Pet-NTR! She stole his dog AND his dignity in one move. This is the content I subscribed for."
Utah_Momma_Jen: "Good for her! A single mother taking care of her new baby. Leave that man in the grease where he belongs!"
Provo_Prepper_88: "That wasn't a glitch. That was a high-level aggro reset. She doesn't even register him as an ally anymore. He's just terrain."
TrollFace_Provo: "Gilbert Status: [ ] Alpha [x] Speedbump. The hierarchy is settled. Dog > Gilbert."
Gilbert pushed himself up, his glasses crooked, slime dripping from his nose. He watched the open door, listening to the fading sound of Malenia's footsteps and Courage's happy babbling.
"Whatever," Gilbert muttered, rubbing his bruised chest. "She's just... farming for him. Valid strategy. I'm still the raid leader."
He looked at the empty room. He looked at the heavy blade on the floor.
"Stupid dog," he whispered, but his voice trembled. "I'm still the main character."