NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1: Snippit Thread
"All knowledge is based on that which we cannot prove. Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?" — Meme Mickey Mouse
{"It's Tough To Be A God, Bullshit!"}
For my past mind it would be hard to comprehend the change between what I was and what I Am now. The basest stirrings of "wisdom" and "enlightenment" were brushed away revealing themselves to be but pond scum.
The spontaneous creation of a vacuum of infinity in a sea of infinity, the base quantum fluctuations acting as Aristotle's unmoved mover. Specks became stars compressed into the oldest primordial blackholes. Humanity was but a guise for the entity I now was. The past, present and future laid out before me without shame showing its deepest valleys, and highest peaks.
Triumvirate in nature, yet a mere reflection of the infinity Trinity. Humanoid, but not human. Powerful, but not god. Not infinite, finite. Compared to another, one who chose to remain human, an order of magnitude would separate us. That was considering they too had a shattered limiter.
They would be twice the Psyker the Emperor of Man was in his prime. Able to create powers twice as powerful, and learn the secrets of creation with greater rapidity. I was still.
Ten powerful charges blazed like stars within the crystalline matrix that was this body. It looked almost human hidden under thick plates of golden armor, yet the sixteen pristine white wings wings shattered that mask. Nearly twenty meters tall with arms the size of trucks, and a face capable of abashing geese.
As Above So Below.
That is a truth even the new me can not refute. Below me is the man I once was, above God's like The Oldest One. Even on the same level there are differences such as stability. Meng Hao and other Ancestor Realm cultivators could hold entire universes within their bodies, while The Oldest One's powers had to rip themselves apart to create it.
That was not a problem I would face. It was paradoxical to my new nature. The shaper of power, the muse of muses able to draw inspiration from the infinite. So I drew upon that inspiration for my first creation. Devouring my own forbidden fruit I planted the seeds of a new tree of life.
{The Emanations Of The Oldest One} A floating golden note appeared above it within the psychic representation of the tree within my Great Ocean. As the seed died and was born again a tree, I watered it with one of the golden stars. Gave Order to the nascent infinity of the tree.
Atop the branches a great crown was formed. Keter, The Crown. A lens to magnify the light of my creation. The remaining stars became five gems in its crown.
Authorities.
Sun, mirroring the light before creation the amber gem placed upon a gleaming leaf of gold rising from the center of the crown beset upon a rose of light. Fire, Fusion, Order and Purification were but the primary expressions of this newborn Shard.
Omniscience, a gleaming spire upon which flows the fragmentary truth I have comprehended. An ivory tower to survey the world from upon, and to analyze the secrets of reality. In truth it was mostly a magnifier for the nigh-Omniscience of The Emperor Of Mankind I had surpassed 20 times over. This reached a higher level and strove to become Omnipotence Through Omniscience.
The third was a sea, or perhaps a storm. It represented absolute Tyranny over the physical world and was composed of Matter Acceleration, Lightning, Wind, Ocean and Calamity—such as earthquakes—control. A quintessential representation of Poseidon's role as the earthshaker, and the king of the ocean.
The third was a cross with a man hung upon it representing both Odin and Jesus' sacrifice. One sacrificing his life to know the secrets of reality becoming the All Father, and the other taking all the darkness of the world upon himself sacrificing himself for others' sins. It represents Omnipotence.
The last gem in the crown was illusory, real and not, dreamed or envisioned in the mind of a greater being. It was similar to the Hermatist's understanding of reality, that it was but an image in the mind of THE ALL. This allowed for the creation of all things by Envisioning it, and channeled The Emperor's dominion over the mind.
I spoke the word, and it was law, "My Characteristics Can Neither Be Destroyed Or Reduced, Only Passed From One Carrier To The Next." Though in truth I was merely tracing the creation of a greater painter.
There were three things. A Blessing granted by The Sun authority, A Prophecy of The Omniscience Authority, and a "Prophesy," I Envisioned. This Crown I connected to the Core within my skull. Placed where a human's pineal gland would be it gave this Endbringer form of mine a new light.
Three stars remain. So I spun my second core into a Cloak of Mysteries. Every lie, every loophole, every trick rolled into a single cloak. Fooling History, Stealing Fate, and Sealing it behind the Stars that dotted the "fabric."
The cloak fluttered in the wind, as space knelt before it's newfound king. Every secret laid out before my eyes, the position of everything I even thought of for an instant. My new brother Leviathan was 1,172,521 feet north considering the standard curvature of the earth it would be, "There,"
The smile almost hurt with how wide it was, but I am beyond pain. It is just data.
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(Showing page 1 of 2)
►Tin_Mother (Administrator)
Replied On Jun 11th 2011:
Content related to Endbringer's current position is considered top secret, any attempting to leak state secrets on PHO is bannable by code 13 subsection b of the rules.
►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jun 11th 2011:
Yo that golden dude is kicking ass!
►Tin_Mother (Administrator)
Replied On Jun 11th 2011:
Why can't I delete this thread!
►Panacea_Official (Saint) (#New Wave) (#No Mask) (Verified Cape) (Verified Independant)
Replied On Jun 11th 2011:
At least they are fighting in the middle of nowhere.
►All_Seeing_Eye (Unverified Cape)
Replied On Jun 11th 2011:
It isn't human. Neither of them. They are made of the same crystalline substance, it appears the giant golden man is aiming for a specific point on the monster's body.
►Acree
Replied On June 11th 2011:
. . . . next your going to tell me Void's "Cannibal Eidolon" theory is true too? If he was right about there being more than three Endbringers what else is he right about?
►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On June 11th 2011:
Eidolon isn't a cannibal! He's a power vampire! That's why he's weakening his immense moral character and virtuous heroic heart to stop him from simply grabbing a trump power to drain power from others and empower his abilities! Maybe Butcher!Eidolon would be a cannibal, but Based!Eidolon no way.
►Specific_Protagonist
Replied On Jun 11th 2011:
That'll make a hot fic idea, Eidolon sucking on Legend's throbbing power~
►All_Seeing_Eye (Unverified Cape)
Replied On Jun 11th 2011:
I Got It! A core, the Endbringer have a core! He's trying to strike it, Leviathan's is at the thickest point between the base of his tail and his chest. God I need Advil!
►
Replied On Jun 11th 2011:
. . . Thinker powers don't work on endbringers silly goose
End of Page. 1
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Chapter 2: Leviathan Fight'
The storm built, twisted as the ocean was ripped into a frenzy by two angry gods. The great gold-clad man spoke, "Pitiful."
Lightning connected the heavens and the earth as his tyrannical might burned into the blue-scaled beast's flesh. Crystal shattered and was discarded only to heal a moment later, even as a blade of water cut towards The Emperor's head. The wave parted, bisected and slid just past the side of each of his ears.
With a hiss the water was flung into the small star held suspended like a halo above his head. Raising the gold clad hand the more humanoid monster dreamed a great flaming sword into existence. Sparks of warp lightning danced across the blade as his speed reached the speed of light.
The blade cut into leviathan, and with delicate control he forced the energy to propagate only through the galaxy-sized spatially compressed interdimensional aquatic killing machine given bowl clenching form.
A galaxy endured blank dead fishy eyes staring soullessly into the emperor's. There was no higher thought simply the base instincts brought to a frenzy under the puppet "master's" unwitting manipulations.
The walking galaxy's claws shattered the sound barrier as they reached for the "man's" throat.
Still it could not reach the core.
The sentient blackholes crashed against each other shattering the sea. For miles all beings cowered in fear as the roaring of a great thunderous cannon echoed across the world.
For an instant it was even, then the leviathan twisted it's body to parry the anathema's sword with his core, instead of death he simply was disembowled. Something simple enough to fix.
The leviathan lept back with surprising agility. Knees raised to its chest it landed, and threw itself to the side lashing his tail to interdict any attempts to pursue.
Water drawn from those reflections created his echo, an echo that was flung forward with desperate ferocity.
This time he didn't bother dodging.
"Weak," simply allowed the water blade to slice a harmless inch into his nose before breaking across his crystalline pseudo-flesh. Stealing the very thought of fleeing from the Endbringer's mind was simple, and in that single frozen eternity the false emperor leapt with a hunting cat's grace.
The wall collapsed in as The Leviathan tried to drag it closer. To escape into the ocean's depths.
Legs wrapping around the beast of the sea's throat. Golden armor constricted the beast's cosmetic esophagus, cracked the crystal as he leveraged his body weight. With a single violent twist the Leviathan's footing was broken. Once off the ground the golden armor moved with impossible dexterity to raise the blue scaled lizard into the air.
Time seemed to freeze. Even as a great door of the stars opened on the seabed. Thrown spinning through the portal the gold clad man pursued even as the waves crashed down hiding the door's disappearance.
The desert stretched for all directions, even as the Leviathan ran trying to generate enough water for even a chance at survival.
"Futile,"
"Queery?" Leviathan croaked back.
"Fun," The man smiled a demented clownlike rictus of a grin, and allowed the sword to fade back to unreality. His next weapon was a twisted wreck of gold that tapered to a point. A spear, scarlet lightning sparked to life across the Bolt of Granxax. Might to match Zeus channeled into a single bolt of tyrannical thunder, empowered to the greatest possible extened by Omniscience and The Sun authority.
This world would burn, but the beast would die. That was all that mattered.The beast's core crumbled, and the galaxy of compressed water and crystal tried to violently decompress. It would have taken out what remained of the planet, but reaching out the planet-destroying monster sealed the dying beast's deathrattle.
A single snowglobe the size of his fist swirled with seemingly infinite tempestuous might.
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Rewrite of Above
The basest stirrings of "wisdom" and "enlightenment" were brushed away revealing themselves to be but pond scum. Great oceans of psychic might were birthed within what had once been a man's head. By appearance he still was, yet that was a lie.
Crystal for flesh, clad in gold with a great burning sword and wings the size of eighteen wheelers, feathers like cheval mirrors so sharp, so bright that the world recoiled. His senses saw more than most, even if his eyes saw more than light.
Past and future laid out in exacting detail. The man whose powers had been given to him had already been omniscient, his might and mind enough to conquer a galaxy requiring the interference of fourway satan to cripple him. Adam blinked his faetouched eyelashes like castle gates crashing against each other.
Reaching out he felt the dark fog that spread over this world. Hope was dying as the world burned and their heroes fanned the flames. Their golden god the instrument of their ultimate annihilation, their prophesied savior a wilting teen. Adam saw the diamond in the rough, the thousands of ways she could be cut and polished into a great hero.
Ten silver charges collapsed filling his mind with countless contradictory yet true concepts. Truths so blasphemous to burn the world, and lies so devious to trick a Saint into sin.
A million paths laid themselves out before him, actions laid out like a chess match studied in exacting detail. Past, present, future, the souls that were spreading through humanity like an infection are beyond such petty concepts. Appolyon supposed that made him a father, granting them life after death, and the potential for power beyond the Warrior's shards.
One of the golden suns burning in his chest collapsed, and formed a great crown of flames. A star sat suspended above his head like a halo. Raising his hand the Endbringer shoved his fist into his stomach. Reached towards the kidney, and pulled out a great crystalline mass.
Fake blood stained his golden gauntlet, as his halo burned away the impurity. The wound sealed with the unmistakable clash of crystal and steel, even as a small metal buzzard buzzed past his ear like a mayfly.
The core shimmered with an Octarine radiance. Raising it above his head, he shaped it into the eightfold path. Raising his hand he placed the sun at the center of the eightfold path, and drew upon eight more charges.
Each formed into another power as great at the sun. Each an order of magnitude greater than the average parahuman. A great shadow was placed at the first stake, and shimmered like a starry sky. Three more charges bloomed and claimed dominion over the mind, the world, and knowledge.
His Omniscience was enhanced as if seen through glasses as the trillions of potential futures were categorized, and analyzed. Recognized, registered, and discarded into the trillions of fractal galaxies dancing within his mind.
A moon was placed at one end of the eight sided halo and beside it a world teeming with life. Another was a lie told so well the world believed it, the second a scam so audacious the world broke around it, and the last a great key of light pointing his path.
Flames blazed across the eightfold path, the golden sun the symbolic core of this solar system of power. The path spun as The False Emperor raised his hand, and birthed a universe. The Emperor of Mankind's knowledge of the warp combined with knowledge of The Astral and Spirit Worlds known only by their creator, and now Appolyon.
So He birthed a great ocean, set his soul ablaze so this universe. The universe of his rebirth would burn eternal. Countless concepts were given symbolic form within the nascent Immaterium. Spirituality danced with the warp energies, even as the perfect forms of all things stood out so starkly on the backdrop.
Eyes turned upon this nascent universe, and they tried to reach into it. Every probe was met with a flaming sword cutting in all directions. Each probe was analyzed, their powers copied and mixed into the preexisting solar system where fitting.
[Tinker Specializations Created This Chapter: The Oldest One Tinker-15]
[Powers Created This Chapter: Sun Authority(Blaster-12/Trump-8) Omniscience Authority, Moon Authority(Shaker-11), Mother Authority(Shaker 11), Envisioning Authority(Shaker-11), Tyrant Authority(Brute-11/Blaster-10/Mover-10), Omnisience Authority(Thinker-11), Darkness Authority(Stranger-11), Fool Authority(Changer-9/Master-11/Thinker-9), Error Authority(Shaker-11/Master-5/Trump-11), Door Authority(Mover-11/Thinker-6/Shaker-9/Trump-10)]
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"Welcome Traveler!" The pale man beamed. His yellow spotted crimson suit seemed at odds with the concert hall full of people. They watched as the being wove his web. A memory hidden deep in their eyes.
The soul that appeared glinted gold. It was clearly different from the others, and yet the shape was the same as the lowliest of the viewers. Great towering four winged insectoid Qu, and the living mountain of gold coins towered over the tiny humans. On each coin was stamped an intricate WC.
"W-" The soul's eyes cut to the crowd, and some primal terror built inside of him. His mortal mind tried to shatter, but the celestial garment upon his soul would not allow it.
Steadying himself the boy smiled wide, "It's my honor sir, might I inquire upon my purpose here?" The boy's mind raced, if this was some afterlife or faerie bullshit he had to be careful with his words. He didn't dare offend anyone here, the alien insect alone was pants-shittingly terrifying.
The crimson haired God of Ultraviolence stared impassively at the boy, even as the pale suited man spread his arms wide. He gesticulated grandly, "Why, boy it's your lucky day."
The Last Omega Lord sitting atop a palanquin and chuckling as The Sanguinarch of Scarlet Sin attempted to consume the golden soul. Plunder the unique properties held within to gain a theoretically infinite amount of Essence.
Ultimately theoretical power does not equate to actual power, and his paltry attempts were batted aside with another of the suited man's gesticulations. Red faced the pompously named vampire and stepped back into the crowd.
Seeing this little interaction the golden soul wondered how far he could push it, "Indeed sir?"
"Ohho! Yes!" The pale man's smile was as the crescent moon, and his arms like stickbugs. A man dressed in a bicolor purple and red suit began eating a cheese wheel, and next to him a rosy faced brown haired man. He was dressed in a black robe, and seemed just another face in the crowd.
He didn't dare show his displeasure, and instead stopped playing the man's game. Instead he turned to the crowded and smiled, "Greetings honored viewers,"
Bowing to the cheese eating man he spoke, "Lord Sanguine, Dickmaster Sheogorath it is my greatest pleasure."
The little golden soul wasn't from a culture where bowing was customary, but before a god he supposed it was rude he hadn't knelt. Turning to the rest of the crowd he smiled, but intentionally did not claim any guilt, and turned to the golden mountain.
"Sir not to impose, but does the WC stand for Waifu Catalog?"
Sensing his plans were falling apart the pale man tried to fix it, but Sheogorath and Sanguine were truly infinite beings. Both held rather non offensive authorities, but Madness and Revalry could certainly be used to great effect.
Imagine madness not on a personal level, but universal. A mad world whose laws are not stagnant. Evershifting shattering paradigms, or an endless party. Sanguine is as much the god of weddings as ritual sacrifice. The last question also dragged the—from his guess either Outsider heritage, or something unknowable.
Sheogorath munched on another cheese wheel and nodded, "Finally someone showing proper respect."
Sanguine gave him a sidelong glance and laughed, "Yeah buddy, compare a crazy chick."
"Indeed young one," The mountain spoke in the rattle of coin purses, the click of coins, and the screams of a thousand merchants hawking overpriced wares at the same time.
"How does one become a contractor of—"
"That's enough." The pale man spoke and time froze. Nothing for the more powerful gods and even the Sanguinearch, but the golden soul stood suspended. The world seemed frosted over as if seen through a snowglobe.
The merchant sensing potential profit frowned two bus sized lips, "The Company deals are not for you to interfere with Playwright."
Knowing how to pick his battles, The Playwright let time click back into reality.
"The Company?"
"Are you seeking employment?"
"Potentially," The golden soul smiled, "Are you under any patron? I have always preferred the Outsider, and Merchant, but all have their perks."
"Hey boy!" Sheogorath shouted.
"Hey Dickmaster!" He returned in the exact same tone.
"Have you ever—"
"I've never been kicked at the speed of light, if that was your question."
"Wanna try it?"
"Can I try one of your cheese wheels instead? those seem more fun."
"American or mexican?"
"I thought the mexican only came shredded."
"Nope."
"Mexican then."
The other gods just stared in disdain at the two madmen, until the gold mountain spoke, "Have you though of what world you would like to start in?"
I have intrinsic value, the Golden Soul let out an internal sigh of relief. If he was worthless to them the mountain wouldn't even be considering this. That means I has some leverage.
"Lord Of The Mysteries. With proper defenses I shouldn't collapse into a pile of writing reproductive maggots within the first few seconds, and I could easily capture both Pallez Zoruast, Antigonus, and Klein Moretti. With that and defenses, I'd give myself a 10-20% chance of not dying immediately when trying to become a Great Old One."
The merchant smiled, "Perhaps consider a Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth template if you are going down that path, The Company can always use a good swindler."
The pale man coughed, "Let's just continue."
"If you want my soul you need to out bid him," The Gold Soul said with a smile, "Honestly I'm half tempted to sign up right now. Though of course I'll need to negotiate, and read through the contract first."
"No one is buying any souls!" The pale man screamed, but the two golden beings just stared at him like he was stupid.
"Then why am I here?"
"It's y—"
"You've already said this," Sheogorath yawned, "Get on with it."
"You." The pale man spoke. . . calmly, "Are here to seek out a sponsor in this Kalpa's Apotheosis Rite."
He pointed casually at the giant gold man, and the gold mountain smugged at his nearby competitors.
"Don't put us off to quickly," Sanguine smiled, "With Sheo over here you'd be able to do a lot in that mad world."
Smiling gratefully the golden soul asked, "An Apotheosis Rite entails what exactly?"
The pale man spoke, but every instinct the gold soul had screamed 'IT'S A TRAP!'
He glanced at the God of Ultrakill and saw a shadow in the depths of his eyes. Of a room with infinite gods removed from time, all who had come before him. Or perhaps the golden soul only saw what he wished to see, allowing his paranoia to blind him to a great opportunity.
Ultimately the golden soul who did not even dare think his own name much less say it nodded, even as the man explained. Every detail. It was a game show ran by a few gods at the start of each Kalpa, essentially a multiversal cycle. Like an apple trapped in a box the multiverse is reborn, even as the Gods hide outside.
The Golden Soul thought it was a paper thin excuse. It was clearly a farm, every kalpa, all the records, or concepts, or xp, or whatever bullshit the farmer wanted collected. Consumed through whatever method they have, if he could think of it they were smart enough too. This gameshow is just an excuse to fatten up lambs.
Still his face did not quiver, his soul stood ironclad. Even as he glanced into the crowd, and picked out two more faces, The Witness, and The Winnower. That sealed it. Killing Logic, Sword Logic, Deep Magic, whatever the fuck you want to call it is perfect for that plan.
Nothing from the darkness is ever given, only Taken. A gift is a trojan horse, a poisoned chalice. A plan sparked in the depths of his golden soul as he caught another familiar face. There were too many, thousands, millions, an infinite amount he knew nothing of.
Still somehow he picked the few from the crowd. The Golden Soul didn't know how he did it, just like he didn't know how he kept such a steady poker face. He simply did.
A quote came to mind, "magic is taking a thought and making it real. Taking a lie and making it the truth. Telling a story to the universe so utterly, cosmically perfect that for a single, shining moment...the world believes a man can fly."
He needed to do more than fly. He needed to dominate.
The man continued, " They shall then join the crowd."
His mind ground to a halt. "What do the patrons get out of supporting me?"
"They can give you quests, and—" That changed things. How sane is Sheogorath, how much of his actions have been a mask, and how much was the Hero of Kvatch. Was he willing to roll the dice on it.
Getting missions, and being under direct command nearly crossed out the Company. It was simply too much power to give to multiversal slavers, but then again Demon God of Madness. Sanguine was an option, but what can a god of parties give him? Maybe essences considering they are drinks, or the fountain of youth.
Madness however is much more flexible. Perhaps helping him take over the body of a madman was possible. Stealing both his body, and powers.
"You can gain partial comprehension over a few of their techniques, partially walking their Path, or Dao, however you wish to put it."
That changed things again.
"Hey, " Dickmaster was getting old, "Lord Sheogorath, could you say put me inside the body of a madman?"
"O—" Fuck The Golden Soul fucked up, he needed to put his words more carefully, but Sheogorath just smiled, "F course I could, Who did you have in mind?"
Audacity warred with caution. Could a partial Authority over Madness allow him to retain partial sanity as countless contradicting concepts ripped him apart, or to even let him take over a being of such cosmic scale. Perhaps at the moment of his death, planting myself as a seed in one of his persona waiting to strike when they are at their weakest.
Sanguine sipped his wine as—fuck it, Adam spoke, "The Original Creator, in the moment his madness entirety consumed him."
The God of Parties choked on his drink.
A backup plan at least. Best case he takes full control, worst case he poisons the persona. Plants himself as a heart demon within God and Mysteries, waiting for their clash to explode. From there there are a few paths.
Either devoting himself to both Calamity of Destruction, and River of Eternal Darkness. Stealing that would uplift him to Pillar status. At the perfect moment to take advantage of two dying Above the Pillar existences. Worst case if that fails, Adam consoled he. . . he'd probably just die.
Or would he even be able to die? Would he eternally be a part of that Greater Will? Stuck in his endless cycle of Convergence and Separation. There is either a reason they have picked me, Adam thought, that's why I'm gold, or I'm going to die in search of ultimate power.
Adam was fine with either path. His heart grew calm.
Death while raging against outrageous fortune would be a good death.
[Sheogorath Offers You An Invitation To The Shivering Isles]
Oh, this wasn't a sponsor selection. It was an interview.
[The Company Offers You The Apotheosis Rite Contract]
Manipulative asshole, Adam lampooned internally. He specified that he wished to negotiate, after all what was a Intensity 1 contractor worth? Nothing!
[The Winnower Offers You To Become A Voice In The Darkness]
Again with the poisoned chalice. Three bad options, each had their own benefits. The Darkness would infect him, a forbidden seed growing within him, just waiting to consume him. The Company were slavers, and trusting them seemed stupid. Finally, The God of Madness.
Was he mad enough to walk into what was essentially crazy mega satan's domain expansion? Were the people in the crowed the true characters, or simply others who stole their bodies. Others like him.
"Lord Sheogorath, It would be my honor to visit the Shivering Isles."
—
"Why am I gold?" The mortal's first question was prudent, The Mad God supposed. He even said it bluntly enough, so, while he wouldn't give the full answer perhaps a fun puzzle.
"If the multiverse has not been reborn, how are you here? Oh and it's shiny."
He stared at the Mad God with blank uncomprehending eyes. Sheo laughed in the boy's face, "It's beneficial for your goals, think little of it beyond that."
The boy, he knew, would do the exact opposite.
Perfect.
Thoughts bound by his contract with that bastard, lucky Sanguinearch. If only Sanguine had an Arch. Should I build him one? That Pierce ability to conceptually break through any defenses would be useful. . . then the Mad God discarded the thoughts.
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[Granting Starter Gift: 1,000 Points, 1x Template Gacha]
[Template Points: 1,000]
[Template #1: Achilles(Song of Achilles) Template Progress: 1%]
The difference between man and half god is vast. The change was immediate as his knees buckled. Still he caught himself, rising with an unfamiliar deadly grace. The very talent that allowed Achillies to become Aristos Achian. The Best Of The Greeks.
Still the brisk mistrali air. Three lives smashed together in an instant. Verdun intended to make it four.
[Template Purchased: Super Hot Protagonist(-1,000)]
[Template #2: Super Hot Protagonist Template Progress: 1%]
Steadying his stance Verdun did not allow his life being expanded infinitely to stop him. He raised a round bronze shield. Three rifle rounds clattered against it, shattering against his aura. Still the dust exploded sending flames searing towards the gap in his helmet.
Stepping to the side his body armor shifted clicking and shifting like fishes scales glinting in the sunlight. They circled, even as the sand crushed under boot. She was beautiful, standing against him so valiantly. She was a towering presence, a master of the battlefield.
Pyrhha's hair danced in the air like a blood stained warbanner. The way her form never shifted from text book perfection, almost dancing between the moves. The Achillies template smiled, and began to watch. He quickly began to copy and adjust her fighting style.
Both used standard mistrali arms. A mechashift gladius-spear-gun, and a shield. They were both a testament to why. His spear struck, dancing like a serpent toward the meat of her cleavage. It was truthfully the most ideal place to strike. Her throat was covered in a bronze protective choker, and her breastplate was closer to a dress than armor.
It didn't reach up to her throat, and simply revealed her cleavage. Perhaps it was a PR move. He didn't care. A strange force twisted his blade to the side a second before her spear danced into a parry. Then attempted to go between his eyes. Verdun returned to his defensive stance, and froze.
This slowed time a hare with the Super Hot template. It was nothing compared to the game where he could dance between bullets, but in a battle of the best it is those fragments of seconds of reaction time that win the fight.
Verdun's spear clicked sliding and collapsing into itself. Raising the gleaming bronze revolver, she pounced like a lion. Aura enhanced muscles lept backwards, and he smiled as time continued to slow.
That was his favorite feature of the game, how when holding space in mid air time slows. His equivalent of space was determination. So he raised his pistol time returning to normality as he moved, then he took a half second longer to aim and fired.
Pyrha's spear danced up batting the first round to the side, it exploded in electricity. The lightning coursed through her veins, but she did not falter. The second was blocked and exploded in flames pushing her arm back the slightest bit. The final round landed between her feet and exploded into a small cube of ice.
Panic flashed in her eyes, even as the Achilies template reached 10%. Pistol became spear as it was launched forward. Defeat seemed certain, before that same strange energy turned the spear. Made it fly past her right ear, instead of shattering her aura.
So Verdun threw his shield. Imprinted on the bronze shield was a charging bull, it spun forward. As it ricocheted off her surprised face, he was already moving on an intercept pathway. Grabbing the shield from the air, and flicking it out. The mechashift shield expanded into a great tower shield.
The dance began once more as he circled, towards his spear. Even as Pyrhha stabbed down, shattering the ice, and regaining her footing. She was radiant, wreathed in solar flame. Her eyes glinted like blades, and the slight tug of a smile on her lips. Verdun smiled wide and excited, this was a real fight.
For once his body could keep up with his mind. Before he had been relatively lumbering. Powerful, and tough but slow. It's part of the trifecta. Any miniboss can only be two of the following; strong, fast, tough. It's basic game balance. Simply logic, if you focus on one field others will suffer.
Still there are freaks, genetic monsters that rise above the rest. Yujiro Hanma, Achilles, and others. As his boot clicked against the side of his spear, he kicked it up. The second he caught it, She struck. Still as she crossed the intervening distance, Verdun planted his feet.
Emerald aura blazed around him as he became a tree taking root. Emerald aura constructs drilled down into the earth, and began to devour the nutrients. Microtears in his muscles healed, even as The Invincible Girl's hand grasped the side of his shield. Aided by her semblance, she dragged it to the side, and cut towards his throat with the dagger.
Unable to raise his feet, Verdun thought quickly.
"Beautiful," he murmured, her strike froze for an instant. A blush spread across her face, as his spear shifted into another gladius. Smashing the blade to the side, and bashing forward the tower shield sent her flying.
From the ground she stared up, before steadying her mindset. She might be a teenage girl, but when it counted she was a warrior. A hero willing to give her life for the betterment of humanity.
A cheeky grin was his only response to her impotent glare. Still the crowd went wild, to see THE Pyrrha Nikos be pushed to this extent. It was rare. The last time it happened was her first competition, in the finals.
It had been the hardest battle of her life, and Verdun had studied it. The memories were brought forth with alien clarity. As if before he had seen each action as an individual tree, and now he could see the forest. How each small action built into larger "Macros" for lack of a better term.
Instincts, he supposed. Each technique can be broken up, and pieced together with others. Small makes big, and big pieces can be placed together to create bigger. All things are of infinite complexity, every task can be subdivided to be changed.
Small instinctual errors were corrected, as he deactivated his semblance. His aura was depleted by nearly 30%, but his stamina had been regained. Hell, he felt better than before the fight. His templates had grown, and the nutrients only brought out more of his newfound divine nature.
Raising his spear he smirked, "Let's dance."
+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_
{LORD OF THE MYSTERIES}
(A/N: Any plot holes, and inaccuracies are clearly 008's fault, not mine. I'm a 100% perfect author beyond reproach. . . Nah just fucking with you, somethings are clearly AU. Ie my main character, and how his retconned existence will shift the loom of fate. Or whatever bullshit I can use as an excuse. If there are any glaring errors feel free to point them out, and I'll try to fix it.)
Crimson Moonlight filtered through silk sheets.
"I'll tend to the flame, while you worship the ashes." The lyrics of the song danced across his mind, as he with every unconscious instinctual desire for life fled from the realization. Fled as his bygone life burned.
The horror was not as he had assumed, from the existence of the wall in his understanding, but in his near total comprehension.
Cognitohazard, he thought forcing his mind to stillness. Killing the thoughts in the womb, aborting them before they could draw any unwanted gazes.
Names were scrambled A- to Imagination, the—don't say it don't think it—to Lovecraftian.
Creating lesser symbols of their greater majesty, abstractions of an abstraction. Small enough that even his mortal mind could mask it.
Placing the pillow over his face he forced himself back into ignorant bliss for a moment. Dreamed of rising from his bed, walking his dog, and going to work.
Dreamed of his life no matter how much the Dread in his gut built. It dug down, a deep bottomless pit, and no matter how skilled he could not tranamute it to joy.
He tried to visualize a brilliant golden sun dispelling his doubt, but they weren't doubts.
This is not my body.
This is not my bed.
Not my ceiling; nor my mood.
It is not my home, not my family, not my life. Hope burned, crumbled into nothing but ash, even as something built within them.
A spark of something great. Something different from this chaotic mad world. If he was alien, this was more.
A seed of otherworldly power, something that broke the Sequences, but could it rise Above? The thought had his instincts screaming, so he dismissed it.
The hermetics speak of The All in every One. The Elderscrolls speaks of the tower within the infinite tower.
The I within the endless I, he had known this for a while. Hell he had learned it from Master Oogway, separation is an illusion.
That unthinkable entity, the source of All shaped by the "Dead Lord." The miracle science acknowledges, the source of the big bang.
This power was not of that same origin. He was only half, merged with an existence of this world.
It was this anomaly that allows him to live. He was part of the oldest one, he had humanity and the potential for divinity, but there was a third part to his existence.
Or another, beyond his Physical, Spiritual, and Astral(symbolic) bodies, and nestled into that nameless alien ether sat the nascent Star.
The ash was consumed as the seed grew, not forming and kabalic shapes. Heather Quipiloth, nor any of the "Emanations" of Ein Soth.
He continued to flee from the dangerous thought. Forced himself down more esoteric rabbit holes.
All things are pole, hot and its absence, humanity and divinity, masculine and feminine.
Red Priest and Primordial Demoness, fire ice, yang yin, man woman.
It wasn't enough, so he stopped fighting it. Simply allowed his mind to go blank, and tried to force the thoughts into that ether. It was strange, and probably mostly placebo, but it dulled the panic that drilled into his skull like a knife.
So he immersed himself in a role, allowing his new life to take over. Allowed Leon Crowly to take the stage, and rise for his graveyard shift. He was a teacher at Tingin academy, the one in charge of the linguistics division.
Well the night classes at least, Leon shifted his thoughts. First thinking in english, Latin then Loen, both modern and ancient Hermes, Greek, French, Spanish and finally ancient Jotun. Two lifetimes combined into one superior being.
The star began to shift, almost an egg. I was nearing completion, six tenths of the way there. The power gestated, and drew upon his dreams. Upon the thoughts in his head, as he yawned plopping into a carriage.
Sliding the money to the driver he forced out a "To the university good sir!"
The meeting with Klein Moretti, and oh did that name connect fucking dots was today. One he was sure would be canceled, after all Klein was dead. Replaced by Zhou Mingrui, the Faceless Man, the Fool Who Doesn't Belong To This Era.
Another piece clicked into place. Staring out the window into the Victorian night, he tasted the smog in the air. Nothing compared to Backlund, but even Tingin didn't escape Rosselle's taint. The Age of Steam and Machinery, an age of coal burning away what remains of this world.
A candle reaching its end, melting across its user's hand. Wick scorches their fingers until it is casually discarded into the darkness of history. Good, that metaphor was abstracted enough for him not to immediately die.
Testing his boundaries was dangerous, but vital.
The carriage slid into its normal position, and Leon grumbled, "Fucking Moretti bastard."
He had to get up two hours earlier just for this fucking meeting, and ensured that he would need at least two cups of coffee during his lectures.
The bronze complexion stood out even in a crowed, and as the larger man waved him over Leon nodded. Azik Eggers, Son of The Pale Disaster, Consul of Death, Accursed Reincarnator, and Teacher of "Mysteries." The word Mysteries was in truth Mysteria the latin origin of the english word.
Again he did not die, thus he proclaimed it a victory. Shaking the man of balamian man's hand, and smiling, "Is this about your student?"
The man nodded, "Indeed, Mr.Moretti is deeply regretful that he can not make his appointment. Another opportunity has appeared, and he has grasped it."
He stifled the snarl and simply sighed, "Good,"
"Good?"
"The boy has a much larger destiny than to be a humble teacher."
"You feel it too?" The Amnesiac Death Consul raised a regal eyebrow.
"Indeed," Leon nodded, "Something's going on in this town, and it's not good Eggars."
"Hmm," Azik nodded seemingly lost in thought, "I hear you're an expert on languages?"
"Indubitably,"
"The word has come to me, but as I grasp for it my fingers grasp only smoke." Azik clutched his head, and spoke.
The word was alien, but felt familiar.
The egg began to shake, tremor and nearly burst. Leon held it back.
"I am unsure, but I believe it to be an ancient Dutanese saying." Forcing a slime he answered, "It directly translates to, Of Death All Come. Linguistically it means something about, All Shall Know Death's Sweet Release, or something about the dying of the mind, and a cacoon, but I like the first two translations better."
Azik stared off into the distance, "Thank you."
"If that's all?"
"No, Welsh Mcgovern, and Naya have tragically taken their own lives."
"A pity."
The bronze skinned man nodded, and Leon rushed to the nearest bathroom. Forcing the door open he smiled sardonically, and entered a stall. Plopping himself on the bronze toilet, he allowed the egg to burst.
Felt it shaped his thoughts, Temperance. That was the closest term he had for it, total and absolute control over his mind. Subdividing, and beating back the dangerous thoughts with wrathful purpose.
Lashing out, even as he groaned in slight relief. The thoughts were aborted before they could be born.
"Goddess I need a fucking nap," He muttered in latin. Staring up at the roof he sighed, rose, and forced his way out of the piss stained bathroom.
God this school fucking sucks, then again which one doesn't.
---=-+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_++_
ANOTHER LORD OF THE MYSTERIES
I should be dead.
It was the first thought that bubbled from the depths of his murky mind. Crimson moonlight filtered through the half open window.
"The moon is red," He noted, detached, as if dreaming, yet the bronze lamp, and blood stained wooden desk did not lie. The revolver lay discarded, but was quickly grabed. Raising it he sighed, and placed it back to his temple.
This moment of clarity was almost certainly temporary, he knew too much. To many of this universes dark secrets for the mortal mind. The names of the outer gods, hell knowing they existed alone was a death sentence.
Yet still Alexander, or he supposed now Klein could not do it. Could not pull the trigger. Whatever abomination put him here had not spared his mind. All things come at a cost. It was fucked every way Klein tried to look at it.
If he hadn't the protections he would be dead already, but the protections meant he could not end himself. The madness would taint him, change him, leave behind a pale reflection.
Demonic faces peered from the shadows.
They are a lie.
24 hours, he had 24 hours to become an angel. It was in his bones, he could feel the barrier crumbling under "their" assault.
Otherwise death would be a mercy, one he could not grant himself. He paced mind racing through his deep well of forbidden knowledge. A name came to mind immediately, The Quill of Alzuhad, Sequence 1 Characteristic of The Author, last remaining fragment of the dragon god of imagination.
That pen, if he could get it, eat it, he would be golden. Without hesitation he remembered the ritual. The luck enhancement ritual engraved into his, no Zhou Mingrui's mind.
3 people in a skin suit, that's what Klein felt like. Stuffed too tightly. Epidermis is like a pair of shoes just half a size too small. These were not his fingers, he was not so dexterous, nor was his eyesight as sharp.
His hand clenched around the butt of the revolver, and in an act of divine timing the door swung open. A yawning brown haired girl stepped into the room froze, and screamed. She collapsed to the floor, and could only stare as her brother met her eyes.
Wide and panicked, he was more afraid than she was, but he didn't freeze for more than an instant. Sprinting to the window he wrenched it open, and slung his feet over. Melissa forced herself to her feet, and saw the words written in Klein's bloodstained notebook.
"Everyone will die, including me,"
"No!" She screamed, even as he threw himself forward with adrenaline fueled power. She faltered and forced herself halfway out the window. Staring down at her idiot brother holding onto the exterior gas line, with experience he should not have caught himself on the way down. Halting for a moment, but not breaking his momentum simply changing it to a leap.
Was her brother moonlighting as a thief? That was Melissa's first thought, fanciful as it was, breaking through the third story windows of beautiful women, and stealing their expensive jewelry. Stealing their hearts, but not shaking that away she watched her bloodstained brother's back disappear into the biting Tingin night.
_++_+_+_+_+__+_+_+++_+_+_+_
Concealed from the world in the ruins of that beautiful dream. The eternal night "He" when could simply rest with his sister, broken as "He"was ripped deeper into madness by that accursed will. It was all wiped clear as "His" new defenses were raised.
As Antigonus became something more. As "He" lived another lifetime, as "He" gained another face. Another spark of humanity to relight the hearth, to burn away that abyssal puppeteer's thread. To free himself from the cage of his own mind.
Rising from his broken throne, "He"stared up at the crimson moon, and snarled the name of his traitorous kin, false kin, traitor, liar, fake, "Amanisis."
Her gaze turned as the crimson light intensified, even as Antigonus reached forward and stole. Ripped it back from the charlatan. Stole his sight, stole his characteristic, and reclaimed the power "He"claims as his own.
Memories of the template, secrets from the origin of the universe allowing him to reach back into history. Reached deeply into the fog, and drew out the characteristic the kinslayer gave to Kotar. Slinging it over his shoulders The Half Fool underwent Apotheisis. Claimed his divine throne.
God drew four more items from history. Bread, water, red wine, and beef stew placed them at the four corners of his little "cage."
Amanisis retreated attempting to counsel Klein, and yet that was a Fool's errand. Blind Stupidity stopped her from interfering as "He"stepped backwards for the first time.
"The Immortal Lord of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."
Unknown fear built in "Her" chest, even as he reached for the stars. As "He" stole one of The Emanations, as "He" fooled the guards and swaggered into the castle to claim "His" rightful place above the spirit world.
"The Sky Lord of Heaven and Earth for Blessings." The second step echoed with the weight of ages. The Fool heralded the turning of the age, as steam made way for "His" ascent.
"The Exalted Thearch of Heaven and Earth for Blessings." Destiny attempted to chain him, draw him down The Celestial Worthy's desired path, and beyond that The Oldest One attempted to stop this deviation from his plan.
Fate was Fooled.
Defiant "He" rose unbound by destiny.
"The Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."
The world gave way to an endless grey fog, it lowered it's head, even as a pack of Sefira Castle Keeper's ran forward. They barked and bowed before their alpha, even as Antigonus revealed his mythical creature form. Under his father he had been a great demonic wolf, as the Half Fool he had become infested, now that infestation seemed almost regal.
The worms danced in unknowable patterns, capable of shattering a lesser being's mind, yet the hound nuzzled towards his paws. Lowering himself to his hind legs, four paws reached out to pet his new companions. One nuzzled his cheek, and another tentatively licked his fur. After a moment Antigonus rose, and walked forward allowing the smoke to shift and build.
At the head of a great bronze table sat a throne, placing "Himself" upon that throne Antigonus closed "His" eyes. Claiming the castle as his own he sighed in the deepest contentment.
Enhanced by Sefira Castle, "He" reached across space and time. Folded it like paper and stepped
Forward in front of a wannabee Attendant of Mysteries. The God of Miracles dreamed of ascending, but the wolf cowered before his superior. "He" felt the curtain that had been discarded by the Sefira, and moved to hand it over. Kotar had always been a prudent boy, "His" greed loses every time.
"Kotar," Antigonus growled at his long lost brother. There was a dark promise in "His" voice. In the stilted awkward moment The Celestial Worthy knew he had to make his move. "His" plan was crumbling around him, so the true Lord of The Mysteries Fooled Kotar.
"You have a chance, simply consume the characteristic."
The Celestial Worthy's will used every bit of force it held to force Kotar down the wrong path. Forced "Him" to subsume the characteristic without a ritual. Madness claimed his brother, and the mad dog lashed out, jaws clamping towards the Fool's throat.
Antigonus shattered that delusion with a single mighty paw strike.
Beat "Him" into the ground replicating the might of "His" Tyranny. Lightning danced across his demonic claws, as he shattered space and the Demonic Wolf Kotar was reminded of his place.
The Celestial Worthy attempted to take Kotar as a vessel, but Antigonus Authority forced him back.
The "God of Miracles" cowered like a beaten dog. Shivered and shook, even as Antigonus reached out. Twisting "His" hand the God stole the cloak. Stole the madness, and grafted it onto a nearby Sequence 6 Luminous Hawk. The best deformed and splattered across this ground forsaken by god.
Cursed as the "Ancient" Sun God died.
Flicking the curtain out it snapped as he grafted all the drawbacks onto whatever target was nearby.
Then "He" once more dawned it.
"He" slung it over his shoulders like a cloak, and relished its power. As the madness tried to claim "Him" "He" allowed the historical projection to fade into nothing but mist. That killed the darkness in the back of his mind, even as his various defenses protected him.
Staring down at the traumatized puppy Antigonus commanded, "Come,"
Space twisted, and the dog padded behind him. Stepping straight into the heart of the castle. Blinking "His" divination revealed the truth, and with a smile he brushed his hand against three glowing crimson stars.
Even as Kotor curled into a ball at the now humanoid God's feet. "His" smile grew wide and clownlike, as "He" grasped their spirit body threads. Ripped from their lives Klein Moretti, Audrey Hall, and Alger Wilson found themselves dragged above the grey fog.
—
The gem of Backlund stared into the glass mirror with a smile. She lit up the night, even as the mirror cracked and her world was stained crimson. A great ocean of ruby washed her away, dragging her soul above the spiritual world.
Before her sat the interior of the nation of evernight. The great throne, and sat atop it the being of indescribable majesty. Unspeakable grace filled him, an ocean of violet divinity. She stared in awe, her gaze flicked to the left. A great beast of black fur and six wicked claws.
The wolves eyes were six crimson mirrors staring into her soul, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth a serpent waiting to strike. Two dozen bleached white fangs dripped viscous milky saliva across the cracked pavement. Two decrepid pillars tried to hold up the ceiling, but failed. Cracked, and crumbling this throne room seemed to have an indescribable mysterious allure to the young girl's adventurous heart.
Fluttering behind his back were six wings stained black, each feather a magot dancing to "His" master's divine tune. Opposite sat a man, he too had six wings.
If there are two angels kneeling at the feet of a throne, in a moment of horror Audey realized, "Oh, that's a god."
"Oh Goddess I called a god's divine kingdom decrepit"
"T-this might be my only chance."
The God kept his enigmatic smile, even as he was laughing his ass off reading her—or he supposed 'Stealing' her thoughts.
The beautiful jewel of Backlund forced her most regal smile and asked, "Oh mighty God. . . How does one become a beyonder?"
Alger Wilson fought to keep his eyes from popping out of his skull, while Klein simply stared on in interest. He REALLY wanted to know what a beyonder was. The two angles exchanged a glance, but Antigonus just met her eyes.
Emerald eyes peered past the flexible porcelain clown mask, and met his violet eyes. Inexplicable she felt a sense of absence, as if "He" was missing something.
"You wish to walk the heretical path?" "He" smiled, and it was unspeakable enthralling, "To walk in the footsteps of the very gods themselves. To thrash against outrageous fortune, and take your life in your hands?"
Her eyes gleamed as if polished to a mirror's shine, and the God of Shapeshifting understood why her beauty abashes Witches.
"Then tell me, what does your heart desire?" Two wolflike ears twitched on the God's head, "To fly freely through the skies, a Dragon of The Mind, an Author writing reality, or perhaps a Tyrant dominating land, sea and air."
At the word Tyrant "He" met the terrified pirate hunter's eyes.
"Or do you wish to peer into the deeper mysteries of reality." "He" met Klein's eyes, "To know the truth that will break you, and yet still you stand. A pillar holding up the sky, all at the small cost of yourself."
"To walk the path is to discard your humanity, to become a monster, to become a god in search of your own righteous purpose." "He" smiled, "If you still wish to become a Beyonder there are three ways forward."
—
Chapter 2: Chaos, Order, and Divine Ordainment
"All comes from The One." Antigonus preached "His" endless gospels unspoken, even though he had yet to buy that perk, "All conflicting authorities, powers, souls, atoms, all things big and small are sourced from the origin."
"I am The Fool Who Heralds A New Age, The Thief Unchained By Destiny, The Lord Seated Above The Spirit World. I hold dominion over many things, and partial authority over more, thus I can grant you powers related to my Authorities." "He" explained casually, "This process will be called Bestowing, and the power itself is called a Boon. Why? Because it is a parasitic gift given by a god to draw you closer to them."
"The second method is chaotic, kill and devour a magical creature and pray your humanity is strong enough to keep you chained to your mortal guise." "He" smiled, "The third path is to drink one of that Corpse God's Potions, his secrets were inscribed upon the Blasphemy Slate, and later imitated by Rossell in his accursed Cards of Blasphemy."
". . . Sir?" Audrey asked, "Where can I get a potion recipe?"
Antigonus simply smiled towards Alger.
"The path of the dragon, beware the Spectator." Antigonus pontificated, before glancing at his Angels. They were just staring at him like he grew a second head, "He" double checked, but no still only one. Was this about the whole bestowal method? Or him calling God Almighty the Corpse God?
A single thought brewed in the depths of their spirit, "Mysteries?"
That was the only answer they could even think of, that the Lord of The Mysteries had replaced Antigonus, and was simply wearing him as a mask. A wall of mist grew from the floor placing both Audrey and Alger in a private meeting. A piece of paper appearing on the table beside the priest alongside a pen.
Klein then spoke, bowing his head, "Oh Lord, what pathway must I walk to visit other planets?"
"Sequence 9 Apprentice, the pathway that leads to a Mage, known by few as the Door Pathway." "He" explained, "It is the divine throne that governs Space, and one I intend to claim. You may of course become an Archangel under me if you can contribute enough to my Plan, that alongside my blessing should be enough for you to explore Creation."
Antigonus sighed, why wouldn't Klein just ask? Well "He" knew, suspicion, the kind of prudence that kept him alive in the original timeline. Patterns of audacity and risk were decrypted as "He" began understanding the mortals before him. Alger Wilson was the old wizened man who would be the voice of reason, Audrey is the spirit of adventure and a woman's touch keeping their moral compass pointing north, and Klein. . . well he's like water.
He will fill any mold given to him, and surpass all possible expectations.
"How may I serve my Lord?" Klein knelt knowing when to bow, and when to stand. When given the opportunity he pretended to be a God, now he wholeheartedly devoted himself to the only path forward.
"Accept my mark, it will protect you from plagues of both the body, spirit, and mind, while concealing you from all divination and a certain angel of imagination that may not be thought outside of my Realm without "His" meta-awareness alerting him." Antigonus commanded, "Once you are protected I can tell you more, there are Cognito Hazardous existences currently affecting Tingin, and your life. It was the reason you tried to kill yourself, and the reason your friends succeeded."
Klein believed he understood the risk, this was clearly a Boon after all, and Boons changed the receiver to be closer to their God. Still this is Klein Moretti, the man willing to sacrifice himself for a post apocalyptic earth, the man who became a God in two years.
Both Kotar and Zaratul exchanged a glance caught only by Antigonus before they glanced at the mark on both of their right hands. He had already Stolen the time required for it to complete the mark on them, Hell, he was Gaslighting the description of the stamp right now. It danced between the masked man's fingers, "But remember Zhou Mingrui, once you enter my service it is a herculean task to leave."
Shock spread across Klein's face, he glanced to the side, and saw the wall of mist bisecting the room. Relaxing for a moment his mind raced, every thought more frantic than the last before he lowered his head. Nearly perfectly pretending to have not even needed a single thought before reaffirming his loyalty.
Truly the Chinese are good at ass kissing!
"Then present your hand~"
Stamped, and sealed the credits rolled in as Klein's free will died. As he was turned from his own person into a pet, the familiar of a God. More than a marionette, more than an Avatar, but less that he was before.
"You shall be known in my gathering as The World," presenting a tarot card to the familiar Antigonus smile grew more human, "And so I declare you my Attendant Of The Stars, The Right Hand of God, Favored Of The Fool."
As soon as his declaration echoed grandly through the decrepit hall it began to shift. He drew the true form from the fog of history, a living reminder of all Antigonus had lost. Antigonus smiled, and felt his Template Stacking: Celestial Worthy Of Heaven And Earth start digesting "His" clown potion.
Even the endless waves of Divinity clashed against the defenses, trying to snuff out his small spark of humanity, Antigonus laughed, "Welcome to the family Klein. Your first mission, is to use this stamp to stamp Leonard. He is one of the policemen who will visit you soon. The rude one is an actual cop, the old man and Leonard, the poet, are fakes."
"What are they?" Time stuttered slowing in their area to ensure both conversations ended at the exact same time.
"Nighthawks, essentially servants of the Evernight Goddess, you are my version of a Nighthawk. My Harlequin, My World, My Major Arcana,"
Alger passed the recipe over, surreptitiously glancing back at the ever smiling God and "His" twin attendants.
"Remember, 100 milliliters of Ghost Sharks blood, It's for the capitan."
Audrey nodded ecstatic over being able to use a code phrase. . .
"Is there anything else I need to know Sir?" Klein's lowered head rose, as he met the God's eyes.
"Hide your notebook, the stamp must be held for three seconds, and your thoughts must not reveal your intentions," The Fool smiled, "You must willingly lower your mental defenses, but keep your thoughts clear of your intentions. A greatly weakened archangel is possessing your target, this merit will allow you to exchange for a great deal."
Klein bowed once more feeling the weight appear in his pocket. The crystal that had marked him, the crystal that shattered his fate.
—
Chapter 3: Marionettes
You can either laugh or cry at tragedy, Antigonus would rather laugh. "His" mind at that current moment was planning a dozen steps ahead, and even as "He" was running this meeting a dozen marionettes were Acting for him.
For the Fool Pathway he had nine. A seer, a clown, a magician, a Faceless Man, a Marioettist, a Bizarro Sorcerer, A Scholar of Yore, and A Miracle Invoker. Each worked in tandem, even while dozens of others practiced both Error and Door pathways. Still the most important at the moment was the Miracle Invoker.
Who knelt in the ashes of a destroyed life. The child screamed, cried, begged for any god who would listen to help, but only Antigonus came. "He" knelt at the boy's side, placed a hand on his shoulder, and whispered words of comfort to the boy.
"I wish my parents were still alive," He sobbed between breaths. Tears washed the ash from across the blonde boy's, even as he begged. He, Antigonus knew beyond doubt, would give anything for this wish.
Raising "His" hand Antigonus drew two paper figurines from the fog of history. With a single flick the substitutes drew the couple's injuries to themselves. Air was returned to their lungs, and invisible pipes reached the clear air above the collapsed house. Shattered bones mended, and the Marionette did not flinch as the figurines died.
They burned to ash, but the parents were still alive. Truthfully they had never died, he could not after all raise the dead. Antigonus smiled and corrected, Yet. He could not yet. Still belief has power, power "He" can channel through "His" authority over Miracles, even as ten thousand more marionettes chanted in unison.
Each an anchor to his sanity, each assisting his defenses in minor ways.
+_+_+_+_+_+_
"So," Amon smiled crookedly, crystal monocle gleaming in the full moon's light, "Death?"
The goth woman with a gleaming golden ankh on "Her" chest rolled "Her" eyes, but her smile never dropped "Yes?"
The (almost)literal son of the antichrist smile "His" too charming roguish smile. "He" was literally the god of swindling girls into "His" bed. He just asked, "What kind of Death are you? A cruel mistress who relishes in the kill? A queen of desolation waiting for the last light to die, so she can close the shop? Or are you a patient Death, a kind death at the end of a long beautiful life?"
"Death," "She" smiled sweetly. Though "He" supposed that was simply the limitations of the baser human languages. Still from that single world he DECRYPTED a great deal about the Death authority. More even than when "He" watched a battle between Salenger and the other Gods.
The pale disaster was but a pale reflection of this infinite being. "She" was essentially a fourth, or he supposed fifth pillar of the universe.
"So are you going to help me stop the Apocalypse?" The question was almost casual, even as he began decrypting a loophole into Sefira Castle.
Using his Template Stacking: Celestial Worthy "He" was technically an owner of that Sefira too after all. "She" placed a camisol casually across "Her" shoulder, and stared out into the void of space. Into the depths of the Cosmos where the outer gods laid in wait, piranhas circling a fishbowl.
Without waiting for an answer "He" brazenly walked away. Twisted space, and stepped into "His" Castle. Death followed at "His" heels. Leather boots clicked against mistborn stone, even as the endless Fog of History danced. Patterns were decrypted that deepened his understanding of the Lord of The Mysteries Authorities. They strengthened "His" template with every new comprehension.
"Mr.Mingrui!" Amon smiled once more drawing on the Fool authority to make it wide and clownlike, "It's an honor to meet you again, I love what you've done with my castle~"
The Fool refused to be Fooled into inadvertently granting "Him" a stronger hold over the castle. Admitting to Amon being the proper owner would have allowed "Him" to steal it directly. Then boosted by Sefira Castle, Klein would become just another Avatar of the Greater Will known as Amon.
"Amon," Klein stated attempting to banish "Him" from the castle, still Amon simply gave a jaunty wave, "Stop your needless flailing. It will simply make my will awakening within you more difficult."
That half truth smashed into Klein's face, even as Amon drew on Blind Stupidity to gaslight The Oldest One's will into falling into a loophole. In essence "He" was attempting to Parasitize the original Parasite. To truly "become" a Pillar of Reality.
Tipping his wizard's hat Amon smiled, even as "He" began parasitizing Creeping Hunger. It was small, but Adam might be able to use the characteristic. Best case it would give him a chance to capture Adam.
Still in that instant Klein tried to flee, but with the Door Authority all entrances and exits to this realm were closed.
In that same instant Klein realized "He" slammed his Realm of Mysteries against the reality that is Sefira Castle. Laughing Amon stared around the endless Doors. That's the one that leads to the ocean, that's the one that makes people retarded, Amon casually decrypts more from that scrap of knowledge.
Even as "He" felt the Satoru Gojo, and Tzeentch templates begin to smile. So much Change, and so much spatial bullshit that "His" the illusion masking "His" eyes died. The previously brown eyes swirled in whites and blues. Clouds drifted idly by, even as the Door Authority shaped like a wizard's hat weighed him down.
"Eenie, meenie, miney, Y̵̨̢̢̧̛̗͎͖͙̦͙̩̤̙͙͔̝̯͓̱̣̱̤̺̩̩̭̩̬͕͛̽̽̋̅̎̇͆͂͒͆̑͒͒͌͛̾̓̄̿͂̋̿̅̀̎͒̒̍̾̓̌̂̔̅̆̊̀̔̀̈́̕̚̕͠͝͝͝͝ͅO̵̢̧̧͙̺͖͕̞̪̤̹͉̫̯̹̘̹̥̲̭̦̖̲̘̭̰̦͙͎̳͚͈̲̖̱̟͉͛̈̄͂̀̌̓̒̆͒͆̈́͗̇̕͘͘͜Ư̵̡̮̬̯̙̮͓̯̻̪̪̝͉̖̩̂͗̆̍̄̊̂͛͌̈́̉̍̔̋̎̉̑̎̈́̄͌͌̍̓͜͝͠͝." Amon pointed, and a door swung open revealing The Fool. Even as "He" began to bargain with the Genie, and the Trunsost Brass Book began to write it's first rule. Twisting "His" wrist Amon stole the Brass Book's powers, and laughed as Blind Stupidity smashed uselessly against his Company-Wrot defenses.
The silver monocle bobbed as he chuckled lightly at the shocked Fool. Sure it was only a single micro expression, but "He" had decrypted more from less before. Straightening the wizards hat on his head Amon spoke, "You don't have to die Klein."
"I don't wish for your death, I simply must Ascend." Amon smiled glibly, "The Outer Gods are coming after all,"
Still Klein would never trust a single word out of Amon's lips. He was the god of lies after all. The highest peak a Swindler can dream of reaching.
All the while Death casually walked around Sefira Castle, traced "Her" delicate fingers across the large backed chairs. "She" smiled, and twirled her umbrella before casually sitting "Herself" down on an empty chair. An intricate engraving of a bleached white skull cut itself into back.
"Her" smile did now waver, even as a star was born and hurled across the divine realm. Amon smiled and laughed, placing forward a single finger, Klein stared, and felt the Celestial Worthy's will within himself nearly fall off its throne. Still that did not break Klein from his slackjawed daze.
The star clashed against an invisible barrier of space, crystalized as the Uniqueness glowed atop Amon's head. It flapped in an invisible breeze drawn in by the gravity of the star, and yet with "His" other hand Amon held it down.
The star died shattering across the newborn Infinity.
The Celestial Worthy Of Heaven And Earth began laughing, but as Klein and "He" tried to peer deeper Amon's information defense stopped them in their tracks. With a smile Amon reminded, "Divination is not Omnipotent~"
That immutable fact of the universe shattered Klein's composure as Madness began to creep in to the edges of his smile. As an ancient will seemed to sit up, and watch closely from behind "His" brown eyes.
Immutable ravings crashed through Klein's mind, "There are things greater than Omnipotence."
A puppet on an invisible thread The Fool drew from the Fog of History six characteristics. Three Error, Three Door, Convergence forced the characteristics to fuse with the Fool who was quickly being taken over.
Amon smiled, "Defying Death Is Prohibited!"
Death raised a single of "Her" eyebrows, "Beg."
Amon sent her puppy dog eyes from below his wide brimmed wizard's hat. Rolling "Her" eyes "She" claimed The Celestial Worthy's soul, granting him eternal sleep within "Her" realm. Idly patting the mortal's soul, "She" sat back down in the corner.
Klein like a puppet with his strings cut collapsed, "His" Divinity screamed in instinctual horror as DEATH "Herself" cut out a part of "Him." Klein Moretti, Zhou Mingrui, Gherman Sparrow, whatever name you chose he was alright. The Humanity was untouched, even as a Pillar of Reality truly died.
Twisting "His" wrist Amon stole from The Fool. Mercifully "He" did not take everything. Simply the largest slice, ripping the very concept of Fooling out of Klein's chest alongside the midnight violet Attendant of Mysteries characteristic.
Death stared at Amon's back for a moment. The slim body shuddered in triumph, "His" entire life leading up to this point. Or at least that is how the world would see it. Death was the only other to know otherwise. To know the Company's corporate truth.
It was all an act, they were all just actors on a stage. An out of context variable thrown in to shift the tide of the times. So even as a new Pillar was born, as reality quaked. As every single barrier in existence, door, window, mirror, the eyelid of every single creature in existence forced itself open. Throughout heaven and earth chaos reigned as even the simplest of lies was believed, and the simplest task became herculean.
"She" smiled for but a moment, and pulled from empty air a black cell phone. Booting it up she navigated to the Retinue section, and read her "husband's" panel.
[Alexander Forthright As Amon | Tier 9→10
Sex: ←Male→] Death raised an eyebrow at the arrows, but then again they were a god of shapeshifting now, so "He" could take any form "She" desires. The thought rang hollow, as "She" grieved the lost connection with "Her" family. "She" knew it would eventually happen, Destruction would ring the final bell, and "She" would turn off the lights.
But to be ripped away so suddenly, still "She" attempted to find joy in sorrow. The pendulum swings. Then every seal was closed, and every lie was decrypted, every thought understood with the greatest possible clarity as the future was laid bare before their eyes.
Between the heavens and the earth "He" alone holds dominion. God has died, and The Mother Goddess of Depravity is greatly weakened. A chuckle burst from Amon's lips as "His" plan seemed within grasp.
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The tea was overly bitter, like the smile reflected inside of it. Her hair fell like a river of blood down her back, across the intricate bronze armor that adored her. For a moment Leon was entranced, it was that beautiful terrible night again, then reality reasserted itself.
His smile strained as his golden future seemed stained pyrite. His finger trailed idle circles around the azure sky's gilded cage. His eyes returned and not leave the tea set, even as her glare sharpened. Invisible eyes cut into the side of his head.
Picturesque, he thought but it soured in the framing. An eternal moment captured, but he knew that was a lie. Nothing is eternal except the gods, and he was not arrogant enough to declare himself one. With a simple pulse of mana his empty palm was filled with rough leather.
Placing the tomb on his lap, he flipped past the first third of the book quickly. Give form to the formless. The line had a few possible meanings. To make inefable concepts simpler by creating symbols capable of resonating, or perha—
"Are you—" She snarled, eyes narrowing in outrage. He glanced up for a moment, ruby and emerald clashed. Scarlet silk crossed across her chest, symbols of rank and privilege. Just another freedom taken away, his own outfit mirrored hers. Instead of copper and blood he was an azure sky scarred with silver constellations.
His fingers tensed on the book, but he closed it.
"Yes?" He asked, feigning politeness with the best of them. Servants walked with heads bowed, and arms heavy with their burdens. As Above So Below, he thought staring past Achilleia's shoulder. At the gardener staring at him with envious eyes. We're all just slaves dancing to the master's tune.
"Are you ready?"
He did not roll his eyes, "As I'll ever be,"
The way the corner of her eyes furrowed twisted his insides. Empathy died a quick death as his father's inescapable divine gaze bore down. He smiled, "I can't help the elasticity of time, how every second until our big day seems to drag on."
His father's gaze pulled back slightly, but was still there. He knew from how the karma shifted, how the space lowered its head before its king.
Bombs burst in the air, staining the sky their colors. Scarlet danced with blue as the two pantheons grew closer. As the chains tightened, he struggled for breath. Marriage, he dreaded it, but couldn't run from it. Even his seemingly romantic insult was only overlooked by his father not missed.
Divination may not be omniscient, but very little slipped past The Celestial Master's eyes.
"How was Nevermore?" He asked more from obligation than desire. Idly signing a maid to replace his tea, He squashed the discontent. Killed his resistance and forced the pliant mask back on.
"I mis—" She started, then shrugged, "It was miserably boring."
A fragile little smile spread across Leon's pale scholarly face, "A pity, I hoped for a good story."
She returned the smile, for a moment he tried to forget the taste of her lips. Placing his hand on the table she grabbed it, and complained as much as she could without breaking the veil of secrecy put in place by the Worm God. There was an annoying dungeon run by someone even though she did not dare insult, so either a primordial, the All God Legion, or some other apex power.
They were the only ones that accursed bloodline didn't dare stand against. Smiling and nodding at the right parts the day wound on. Cucumber sandwiches were devoured with gusto as his last days of freedom drew ever closer. His smile grew wider as he nodded, as his father's words echoed through his mind.
"Under the ravages of fate, you can either laugh or you can cry." It might have been the best advice he had ever given.
So he laughed at her jokes, drank the bitter tea, and smiled in his gilded cage. Even as something cracked inside him. Something seeped through, but he smiled through it. Allowed the daydreams to wash away his doubts, as he wondered how their bloodlines would affect their child.
Four powerful bloodlines had already been bred into two perfect vessels. The Primordial Demoness's Yinbased destruction bloodline, and The Red Priest Yangbased war bloodline formed into something greater.
He wondered how that would work with his own bloodline. A combination of his father's bloodline holding dominion of Space-Time, Errors, and Lies, and his mother's dominion over Concealment and Death, though death seemed a little lost in translation.
[Bloodline of The Inefable Wanderer (Unique)
Mysterious power flows through your veins, a connection to the beyond. Seek the secrets of your blood. Grants partial authority over many concepts including Fooling, Errors, Doors, Concealment, and Change.]
So many benefits, a break in the war between God Almighty and Father, a beautiful wife, but it was forced upon him. He had never had a choice in life, not in class, nor profession. The medals given to him by his father seemed more like chains dragging him down deeper and deeper.
He didn't dare breathe, didn't dare let the liquid lies fill his lungs.
So he smiled wide, and used a swindler's charm.
System, I need a drink. At least she was cute trying to talk around the topic.
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