The cavern's tension had faded into an odd domestic quiet.
Two Steel Bears lazily rolled rocks back and forth like giant, spiky toddlers.
The Mantises had decided the same rocks were perfect for "art," arranging jagged shards into what might have been a lopsided heart… or a threat display.
And Nyxar—dead-eyed summoner of nightmares—was absently scratching the enormous armored head of a creature that could crush a mountain.
Bug buzzed a lazy loop around them all, finally breaking the silence.
Bug: "Okay, book. We've got a five-ton bell with feelings here. Now what? Do we… I dunno… walk it? Feed it? File for adoption papers?"
The Grimarca popped open, ink spiraling into words:
Book: You can try making a contract with it.
Nyxar paused mid-scratch. "A… contract?"
Bug: "Wait wait wait. What contract? Like—lease agreement? Bell Beast timeshare?"
The book's script shifted with a calm inevitability:
A contract allows summoning without killing first. Both parties must fully understand and willingly accept.
Nyxar's brows furrowed. "How."
Place your hand on the creature's head. Ask it if it accepts. If it agrees, a sigil will be inscribed.
Bug spun in midair, shrieking. "EXCUSE ME? We could have done this all along?!"
Creature must possess minimal intelligence to comprehend or not care enough to resist.
"Minimal intelligence," Bug echoed, tiny voice dripping disbelief. "So all those near-death wrestling matches with steel-skinned nightmares were… optional?!"
Nyxar only shrugged, still scratching the Bell Beast's plated crown.
Bug: "Fine, fine. What about the other rule? The one about summoning?"
The Grimarca obligingly etched more text:
Nyxar must kill the creature alone or with his own summons. Inanimate objects may also be bound if Nyxar used them directly. No outside help permitted.
Bug flailed his wings like he might short-circuit. "So you're telling me you need to do the killing, but also, sometimes you don't need to kill at all, if the creature feels like signing paperwork? Incredible. Truly, the bureaucracy of the arcane is thriving."
The Mantises, apparently inspired by this conversation, began adding "decorative flourishes" to their rock art—tiny sharp swirls that looked suspiciously like the book's own runes.
One Steel Bear huffed and rolled over, showering the artwork in pebbles.
The Attempt
Nyxar finally straightened, resting his palm on the Bell Beast's massive head.
"Do you accept being in a contract with me?"
His voice was a low rumble, a little awkward—as if asking someone to an unexpected first date.
The Bell Beast let out a soft, resonant bong, like a temple bell struck by moonlight.
The Grimarca erupted in a crimson glow, bathing the chamber in bloodlight.
The Bears froze mid-roll.
The Mantises paused mid-scratch.
Bug hovered, wide-eyed, antennae twitching.
Rings of demonic symbols spiraled around Nyxar's raised arm, searing a glowing sigil into his right forearm.
An identical mark blazed across the armored forehead of the Bell Beast, its plates shining like molten iron.
Then—silence. The light faded, leaving only the faint chime of cooling rock.
The book's page turned on its own.
New Creature Gained: Bell Beast (Contracted)
Bug stared. "Well. That was… horrifyingly beautiful. Ten out of ten pyrotechnics."
Shadow Games
Nyxar gave a single command. "Dispel."
The Bell Beast blinked once, then calmly sank into his shadow like a ship vanishing beneath black water.
Bug zipped in tight, pupils wide. "Okay, nope. Nope nope nope. That's way too creepy."
Nyxar tilted his head. "Appear."
A heartbeat later the cavern floor rippled, and the Bell Beast exploded upward from the darkness—arching in a surprisingly graceful circle before landing with a thunderous BOONG that shook dust from the ceiling.
One Steel Bear sat down so hard the ground cracked.
The Mantises abandoned their art entirely and just clacked nervously.
Bug flitted to a stalactite well out of stomping range. "Right. So now we've upgraded from 'casual annihilation' to 'pocket apocalypse.' Delightful. Can't wait to find out all the fun ways this thing will eventually kill me."
The Grimarca scribbled an unhelpful ¯\(ツ)/¯ across a blank page.
Bug threw up his tiny legs. "And you—stop doing that! It's not cute when an eldritch grimoire acts like a bored teenager!"
Nyxar, expression unreadable as ever, rested a hand on the Bell Beast's warm, bell-toned plating.
"Useful," he said simply.
Bug sighed the sigh of a tiny creature who knew his future was now measured in giant shadow-bell footfalls.
"Yeah. Useful. And one day, when it rings me like a snack-sized dinner bell, remember I warned you."
The Bell Beast gave a cheerful chime, as if to say: Maybe. Maybe not.