The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

For a while, the trio Nether Ritual stared at the glistening Nether Core they had assembled, all in awe of the heights which Randidly Ghosthound had reached. Waves of warm energy swirled around them; the air had become warm and invigorating. You could practically feel the significance in the environment deepening and those benefits spreading out across to the rest of the Alpha Cosmos.

But as significant a milestone as this was, after a few minutes…

“What next?” Devick couldn’t help but ask. Her foot tapped the ground impatiently. Definitely, she much preferred a little bit of violence to keep her on task.

Lowanna had a dreamy smile on her face, perfectly content in basking in the warm glow of their accomplishment for the next thousand years or so. “Now, we wait.”

Devick nodded seriously and kept her eyes forward, trying to absorb some of that attitude. Enmya kept making shocked noises as he moved back and forth, testing the energy thrown off by the translucent Nether Core. For twelve seconds, Devick managed to keep her expression focused. She didn’t look away from the Nether Core.

On the thirteenth second, she collapsed under the weight of her own exasperation.

“I’m going to train a bit. This is… just so… inspiring. I can’t help but be motivated.” Devick said as she hopped to her feet. She needn’t have even bothered with the lie; both of the other two were too genuinely enthralled with the Nether Core to even examine her statements.

Fucking children, Devick grumbled to herself as she wandered away to find something to do. For a while it was cool to see the environment changing at a visible pace to a thriving ecosystem. Beyond the small valley they had used as the base for the Nether Ritual (still filled with the corpses of zombie Randidlys) the ground had exploded into a thick jungle. Devick already heard growls and hoots as monsters were drawn to the dense significance of the location.

Devick might not be as strong as the monsters determining the fate of the Nexus, but these Alpha Cosmos pests intelligently avoided the bored and prowling young woman.

As she was bending forward to smell a beautiful tangerine-colored and definitely flesh-eating flower, Devick heard a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. She straightened abruptly, just as the flower snapped ineffectually shut. The flesh-eating plant monster roared and pulled itself out of the ground to lunge at her.

Devick absently reached out and stroked the flower with the hand warped and shriveled by a godslaying weapon. The flower fell to rotting pieces in front of her, its petals already bubbling. She closed her eyes and listened. The voices bobbed and drifted to her ears, quiet but clear.

Come.

Come to usss.

We offer you…

Come.

We offer you power.

Us and youu.

Devick’s eyes snapped open. Already she began walking. She grimaced, picturing what Randidly would say. She argued to the air, as though she could convince. “I mean sure, their messaging was super shady! But that’s why I had to investigate! A liar would have been more convincing, right?

“Better that I be lured in than some unsuspecting human, right?”

We both know you want to do this, Randidly would have said with a sigh. Then he would have looked directly at her, his green eyes bright. Just… don’t be too unreasonable, alright?

Then they would have both laughed. Devick’s steps quickened.

She had learned some old tricks from members of the Pantheon she had interacted with, so Devick moved from the physical realm to the shadowy, half-place through which the administrators of the Alpha Cosmos moved. There, she unleashed all of her physicality. She bounded forward through the long hallways without fear, following the echoing whispers. Her body felt light and invigorated by the waves of significance that had settled across her. She couldn’t help but appreciate how much her own Nether system had improved, just being near the transformation of Randidlys.

She felt powerful.

But that sensation hid a bitter truth: she needed to be even more powerful to stand on the battlefields of Randidly Ghosthound.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Eventually, she moved from the passages around the Alpha Cosmos to a side thoroughfare that led deeper into the bowels of the Pantheon’s apparatus. She hesitated to a moment, but long experience toeing lines had taught her that it was much easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Besides, the whispers are getting louder. It is probably just around this corner…

Devick proceeded forward, deeper and deeper, until she arrived at a strange, humming section made of industrial pipes and rumbling floors. And it was not the hum machinery that she felt via the vibrations, but the howling force of Randidly’s existence. The thump of his heart shook her whole body.

She liked it a little too much, so kept hurrying forward.

Soon, she walked into a wide warehouse room, filled with glittering objects. Yet the most eye-catching of them all was the floating sphere, made up of hundreds of strange orbs, each releasing their own powerful images. And slithering in the center of that orb, a dozen crackling serpents of madness smiled at Devick.

*****

The Second Guardian had been difficult, but not impossible. Under Don Beigon’s orders, the Nether Lattice warriors fought with his elites. Their teamwork improved quickly. With superior numbers, they surrounded the graceful wind and rapier monster and hammered her from every side until her body began to fail.

That was not to say the outcome had been ideal.

Again and again, the Don manipulated small chances, putting a pebble in their foe's path, smoothing the footwork of an ally. But even then, they had suffered grievous casualties in the confrontation. Three Nether Lattice individuals had their images burnt out and two of the Don’s elites were grievously wounded.

“We cannot continue like this,” The hawk humanoid panted as she looked around at their dwindling forces. The whites of her eyes looked very, very large. “Just the amount of significance you’ve drawn from us- the Nether Lattice-”

“As I said,” The skull of the first guardian rumbled. “The Path to the Pinnacle can only be walked by the worthy. If you do not deserve success-”

“We will make it,” The Don forced the words out through gritted teeth. He raised a placating hand toward the hawk humanoid. “You can feel the debt between us and I always pay my debts. I still have a few more cards to play. I have no doubt in my mind that we can overcome one more guardian with our current capability.”

“The final guardian is the most powerful,” The skull remarked, very unhelpfully. Then, to Don’s relief, it added, “However, most of that strength stems from subterfuge and deceit; that being is not without weaknesses. It is a statue of pure alabaster with eight arms, each with a different weapon. Despite their superior reach, the glaive and the ax are the weakest of the weapons. It is the palm and the needle that you must avoid at all costs. They will quell any thoughts of further climbing with just a touch.”

The Don filed that information away. He checked in on the group. After a few minutes, he forced them to move with a small speech about how close they were. In truth, he simply could not waste too much more time here. It was difficult to know what occurred outside of the Path to the Pinnacle, isolated in this place within the spinning walls of the nebula. Yet any moment now, Elhume could tear a hole in the walls and crash their party.

Before that happened, the Don wanted to climb as high as possible. That way, his leverage would be better.

As they proceeded forward, much of the Don’s last wisp of optimism vanished. Even the nebula glittering around the tiled road began to grow dark and ominous. Clouds of cosmic dust crackled with electrical discharge. The number of tiles slowly dwindled as they continued to climb as the Path to the Pinnacle thinned. By the time they reached the next platform, two individuals could barely walk abreast.

And upon that platform, the eight-armed alabaster statue waited for the group with her weapons raised.

“Can you… really overcome this foe?” Even the skull of the first guardian seemed afraid, its eyes smoldering uncertainly.

Don Beigon didn’t bother to answer; at this point, they were beyond talking about the hurdles in front of them. Instead, he pointed. His remaining elites glided forward into position, their images sparkling with emotional intensity. The remaining members of the Nether Lattice followed sluggishly behind them.

Those eight arms shifted, brandishing the powerful and heavy weapons. Beyond those, the smaller and more deadly attacks waited.

The hawk humanoid hovered at the Don’s elbow. Nervousness radiated off of her body. “Based on those image reverberations… we need a plan to overcome this foe- if we just charge forward, it seems inevitable that we sustain more losses-”

“This is the final guardian,” Don Beigon nodded slowly. “We must charge.”

Finally, the veneer of panic fell away and the hawk humanoid scowled at him. “You fool! So what if this is the final hurdle! We are not a resource you can spend to advance your own cause. The debts you owe to us are deep. Honestly, I am no longer even sure you will ever be able to repay the significance you have borrowed. Even if the whole of the Nexus falls into the palm of your hand.”

“Perhaps you are correct,” Don Beigon mused. He flicked a wrist and produced a worn photo of Diane. Her expression was almost haughty, standing next to a much younger version of Don Beigon. She was so bold and fearless, even just as memory. With just those eyes, those same eyes he fell in love with, she seemed to be challenging the entire universe to stand in her path. She had absolute confidence she would come out on top.

In the depths of his heart, the Don was almost glad he wasn’t there when she was killed. An even more vital fire in him would have gone out… to know whether her spirit had broken, when she realized she was about to die.

Don Beigon closed his eyes. “Some debts… can never be repaid. And yet… Perhaps in the right circumstances-” The engraving on the back of the picture activated. Diane’s special formula began to move. White flames ate away at the photograph. Diane’s lovely face warped and vanished. The Don began gritting his teeth. “Perhaps I can finally achieve a Reversal of Fortunes.”

His entire inner world, a carefully measured emporium of debts and favors, turned itself inside out.