The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

The Don had a moment of suspended anxiety as he activated the Skill Reversal of Fortunes.

Even now, this ability he had inherited from his wild wife felt unnatural. He had built an identity by creating solid and reliable rules for business deals. Actions had consequences; prices would be paid, no matter how the value needed to be extracted.

His inner world was delicate and responsive. And this treated it like a snow globe, shaking it all up to see the bits and pieces flutter around in a wild storm.

Diane Beigon laughed at his meticulous arrangements and measurements. She enjoyed rigid systems, but only because it let her manipulate the expectations of others and then take advantage of them in one fell swoop. Not that she didn’t value long-term relationships, but she pointed out in the cutthroat environment of the Nexus, one often didn’t have more than a few valuable interactions with another party. The universe was vast.

If they had the opportunity to vault up in power, they needed to take it. And losers could always be eliminated, provided the deal cut them deeply enough.

Her attitude had led to their rapid early assent… and then caused her to be killed, when she had gone behind his back and tried to pull one of her stunts against Elhume. But there was a certain poetic justice to this moment, that the Don now used the same wildness to serve her long-awaited vengeance.

The Skill activated. Don Beigon could feel all of the weight of owing reversing. All the ways he had beggared himself, called in every favor in preparation for this day… now became deep wells of debt that he could call upon. For all that the Skill created chaos, once it engaged it acted quickly. He felt especially gleeful to yank with as much force as he could manage on the sudden debt that Randidly Ghosthound owed him.

Do not interfere with a father who knows what is best for his daughter. Don Beigon’s eyes flashed. You might have protected her for now… but my methods… bah, you cannot understand what I intended.

The individuals here felt the shift as well. The seven remaining members of the Nether Lattice froze as the sensations percolated through their bodies. Don Beigon ascended quickly through the Nether Lattice, now sitting atop it. He instantly sucked away all the significance from their bodies and concentrated it within himself. And then he called in their debt and forcibly compelled them to attack the final guardian.

“DON!” The Hawk humanoid shrieked as her legs stuttered forward to join the fight. The debt moved her body, even if her mind was unwilling.

Sitting on top of one of the corners of the Don’s wheelchair back, the skull let out a fearful groan. “Even with them… this will not be enough…”

Don Beigon nodded grimly; he didn’t like their current odds. His elites moved with all the swiftness he had drilled into them with long years fo training. Their images slid atop one another, hammering at this guardian. But the Guardian had eight powerful weapons that mingled freely. The glaive ripped sideways, quelling the air. The ax chopped down, severing images in the middle of their explosive force. Blasts of Nether were knocked to the side by a mirrored shield, opening up space for the saber to cut downward.

Right as the Don began to consider his other options, he felt the connection from Randidly Ghosthound beginning to burn.

First came a wave of significance. The energy was so dense that its arrival forced a gasp out of Don Beigon. Already he felt himself being damaged by hosting this repayment. In terms of quantity, Randidly Ghosthound had sent over maybe a tenth of the significance that the Don had just extracted from the Nether Lattice.

Yet in terms of quality, it was a volcanic eruption compared to a campfire. It seared his veins, threatening to burn its way out of him before he could utilize it.

You bastard! Anger surged through the Don’s body, but it wasn’t nearly enough to chagrin this significance. Did you beggar yourself in order to harm me like this!? What the hell is this significance!

Behind him, the skull released a low chuckle. “That energy… heh, what quick growth…”

Don Beigon’s chest grew agonizing, holding that significance within him; it was so overwhelming that his image couldn’t restrain it. Despite the clumsiness of the expression, Don Beigon had no choice but to raise a hand and unleash the caustic wave of significance as liquid blast, just to get it out of his body. To his surprise, the energy came out fizzing and clear, like a carbonated beverage.

When the significance hit the raised mirrored shield of the alabaster statue, the shield melted. The Guardian shrieked in pain and shifted sideways at the last second, trying to avoid the dangerous wave of significance. A few splashes hit the hand with just an open palm, scarring the forearm.

The blast continued outward and melted the rumbling nebula beyond the edge of the path. What remained was a dark and empty hole in space, laying bare how this place was constructed experience. The raw significance donated by Randidly Ghosthound annihilated all of Elhume’s careful preparations.

The connection stayed hot. More arrived from him and the Don braced himself to unleash the next waves of significance before he injured himself, but this next payment came in a different form. Again, however, the Don’s chest burned as he tried to host this. Almost gagging, he released the repayment-

A blazing orb of hovering images manifested in front of him on the platform. He leaned back in his chair, unable to believe what he was seeing. How… how did Randidly Ghosthound gather so many powerful images these-- fuck, are these Grand Fates!??

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“Where the hell is this?”

If Don Beigon was scared before, he practically shit himself when a slim young woman stepped out from beneath the luminous orb of Grand Fates. Her fiery red hair, those glittering and curious eyes- the Actus Suprem looked around and smiled the Don. Behind her back, six sizzling snakes of madness and rust swam lazily above her head, looking at him with the same toothy grins.

Snakes should not have human teeth like that.

“A-a-actus Suprem.” Don Beigon blinked several times. Although they had several brief interactions over the years, Don had never dared make a deal with Devick, no matter how often she tempted him with offers and toothy smiles. One sniff of her image made it clear she just wanted to test her corrupting power against his rigid rule system. And he didn’t have much confidence in the sort of spirit she possessed, so reminiscent of a corrupted version of Diane. “I… what are you doing here?”

Devick, who the Don realized now looked a great deal younger than he remembered, tilted her head to the side. But one of the crackling serpents slithered down and whispered in her ear and a knowing smile spread across her face. “Ahhhh. I’m… well, taking a stroll. Isn’t that why you are here as well?”

A stroll? Did she defect from Elhume’s side as well and join the cause of Randidly Ghosthound? Out of the Path of the Pinnacle… is the situation in broader Nexus deteriorating further in the rebels' favor? At least that gives us some extra time…

“Ahem, I must beg your assistance. Please, help us eliminate this threat.” Don Beigon bowed in his seat and gestured to the middle portion of the platform. Although the Ghosthound’s significance had weakened the alabaster statue down to six and a half arms, it now fought with a pained ferocity that almost made up for a loss of an arm.

The Actus Suprem snorted and crossed her arms. “No.”

Don Beigon felt a drop of sweat trickle down his cheek as the alabaster statue swung her arm and chopped off the wing of the hawk humanoid. “Then… at the very least… may I take one of those Grand Fates?”

One of the snakes whispered into the Actus Suprem’s ear again. For the first time, she seemed unsure of herself. “You… can. But… I don’t know if its safe for you.”

Don Beigon took another look at the floating conglomeration of Grand Fates. He felt their power… but now that he knew the signs to look for, he saw the fissure of madness running through the Grand Fates. The snakes were a part of them all, slithering and smirking. He could see the true source of these Grand Fates now; they hadn’t been pulled here by Randidly Ghosthound.

This had been the Actus Suprem, from her efforts to literally rip away Grand Fates earlier. And now her madness tainted every one of them.

One of his subordinates let out a sigh as the arm with a needle brushed against his chest and stopped his heart. The body collapsed without a sound. The image of the statue blazed. Don Beigon gritted his teeth. I cannot stop now… not with how close I am. So long as I am decisive… I should be able to contain the Actus Suprem’s influence…

He didn’t allow himself to second guess further. Perhaps a little bit of Diane’s defiant fire still blazed in him, after using her Reversal of Fate. Don Beigon reached out into those floating Grand Fates and beckoned down a powerful aura of thunder and lightning. The Grand Fate came easily, sliding into his body, showing him how to create a powerful image of a world-ending storm. He breathed deeply, ignoring the prickling feeling in his lungs as one of those snakes of madness slithered through him, almost playfully.

At least, when it comes to WIllpower, I don’t believe any are my match. Especially not just a wisp of her image. Don Beigon’s eyes blazed as he gathered electricity to his hands. After the life I have lived… after how long I have hidden my plans… in terms of resolve, I am without peer…!

Don Beigon aimed and unleashed a powerful blast of lightning. Without the shield, the alabaster statue needed to pivot away from a wounded Nether Lattice member and brandish its glaive in order to defend. Which gave one of the Don’s elites time to dash forward and hack into the ax arm.

The alabaster statue shrieked again and unleashed the open palm in retaliation. Wounded though that arm had been by the wave of significance, it still popped the chest cavity of Don’s subordinate like a bloody water balloon. But the hawk humanoid swung in, driven by her debt, and scored a deep wound on another arm.

The Don drew again on the lightning, hammering down with an overhead blast to keep the statue distracted. He tried to ignore the prickling sensation growing stronger, spreading from his lungs to his skin. As the Grand Fate settled into him, the strangeness spread.

Don’s last two elites cut back and forth across each other’s path, confusing the alabaster statue. A member of the Nether Lattice hacked down and took off the saber arm. The needle flashed outward, but the Don unleashed a rumbling boom of thunder to deflect its stab. The hawk humanoid screeched and swooped, taking a chunk out of the statue’s shoulder.

The Actus Suprem watched with glittering eyes. Her shoulders rose and fell slowly. Somehow, she seemed to be feeding on the environment. The Don didn’t like her presence but also didn’t dare antagonize her, not now.

Although, what do I do if she attempts to ambush me after this fight is over…?

Despite the risks, Don Beigon pulled crackling electricity into his blood. The whisper of madness across his skin was almost soothing.

In the end, the decisive blow was struck by the hawk humanoid. Her image was much more powerful than the Don had given her credit for. Driven by the debt between them, she cut off the statue’s head. At which point she wheeled around and glared, her debt cleared. “DON BEIGON! I demand an explanation-”

Falling away, the statue slipped the needle into the back of her head. The hawk humanoid blinked several times. She took another two steps forward, fury becoming confusion. Then she faceplanted, her image extinguished.

The statue collapsed backward, its alabaster body breaking into pieces. The Don tensed, thunder roaring in his blood; the Actus Suprem remained still, just observing the process. In terms of survivors, there were only three side characters: one of the Don’s elites, bearing a deep wound to his arm. If she were to attempt to seize control of the expedition now-

“With this meager strength,” As the alabaster head rolled to a stop on the ground, its mouth moved. “You will not be able to… overcome the final guardian.”

The final… guardian…? The Don’s skin prickled, but he couldn’t tell whether it was anxiety or the crackling static of the Grand Fate within his body. The practical part of his brain instantly activated; he would not be able to overcome another guardian. His brow furrowed. Had Elhume truly made additional preparations? He possessed extra significance, but-

“Ah,” Suddenly, the Don felt a confident grin spread across his face. He looked down at the cracked head on the ground, disinterested. “I have been warned about you; did you think your last deceit would not be noticed? You wield fear like it is a weapon, however-” Don Beigon turned and looked at the twisting black wicker gate at the far end of the platform. “-I will not stop. More than I fear those petty ghosts at which you hint, I fear living for even a moment more with the burden of this failure.”

Don Beigon spared one last look for the Actus Suprem, who had just observed the process. His subordinates gathered closer, seeing to their wounds. His lip twitched. The moment for an ambush had passed, on both sides. For now… it seemed they would proceed together.