Cults of the Dragon Gods

by Brian McGoldrick

  Most of the odd machinery appears to be inactive, but there is a faint humming noise coming from the collection of large cylinders halfway along one wall. Moving to the location, I examine the setup. A platform and rack that appear to be normal Earth industrial equipment are supporting five tubes made out of the bronze colored metal. Mounted so they lay at about a 45° angle, the cylinders are around eight feet long and four feet in diameter, with a door on the upper side of each one. Near the upper end of each tube, a window that appears to be made from Crystal instead of glass is set in its door.

  Climbing up on the platform, I take a look through the window in one of the cylinders, and a malicious smile lights up my face. Inside the cylinder, I see the sleeping face of Sandor. Quickly checking the other four tubes, I see the same face revealed in each one.

  Valcrit, bring the faggot over here.

  Which faggot?

  I point at Kyle. That one.

  When Kyle walks onto the platform, I grab him by the back of the neck and slammed his face into the crystal window on one of the tubes. His nose is crushed, and in his teeth tear up his lips. As I drag his face across the window and throw him to the platform, a smear of blood and saliva stains the crystal.

  "Will it be faster getting information from this faggot, if you rip his mind apart or if you let them talk and make them suffer when he lies?"

  Valcrit looks like he is almost going to crack a smile. "Digging through his mind will cause irreparable damage, I would reserve it as a backup plan. If this faggot lies, I will know and give him enough pain to make them wish he was dead."

  Without revealing any emotions on my face, I stare at Kyle. "Besides the Sandors I killed in the loading dock and these five in the tubes, are there any more copies of this bitch running around?"

  As Valcrit releases his mental domination over Kyle, tears well up in his eyes and he begins sniffling. "Don't hurt me anymore. Please. I don't even know you. Why do you want to hurt me? Please. Don't hurt me. AAAARRRR!"

  After kicking Kyle in the balls, I squat down next to him and smile. From the way he tries to recoil it is obvious that my smile is not a reassuring expression. "You have information that I want, and until I get it, I will hurt you over and over. Answer my question. Other than the five Sandors that I killed and these five in the tubes, are there any more of them?"

  While holding his balls and whimpering, Kyle shakes his head repeatedly. "There's one more, but I don't know where it is."

  I glance at Valcrit, and he nods.

  "Why didn't Sandor know that I tortured and killed him on the other side of the rift between worlds?"

  His eyes filled with naked terror, Kyle looks at me and shivers. "Are you talking about that teleportation thing in the sub levels?"

  I bless Kyle with another of my smiles. "Yes, that's it."

  Kyle sniffles some more and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. "About a month ago, orders came from above to take one clone of Sandor and two other experiments out of their tanks and send them to the sub level. After the rest of the clones were activated, they never seemed to be aware of the one that was pulled out early. It was the same with the other two experimental subjects. I don't know why it was like that. We were never given any data to analyze."

  When I look at Valcrit, he nods.

  I put my hand on one of the bronze colored cylinders. "Where did this equipment come from?"

  Kyle's shivering intensifies. He looks like he is trying to meld into the platform beneath him, and his voice rises by a couple octaves. "I don't know! The lab and all this hardware was already here when I was brought on board! No one ever talks about where it came from! I tried asking other researchers! They told me to shut up in mind my own business!"

  I do not really need an answer to that question. The ultimate source of the equipment is most likely J'Rome, and he is already in my possession. Once this is all over, I can take my time torturing him for information.

  Rising to my feet, I draw my sword and fill it with the Od. One by one, I plunge my sword into the cylinders, and watch as the bodies of Sandor are consumed. Hopefully, I will not have to waste more time killing other copies of this piece of shit.

  I stare down coldly at Kyle. "What is the purpose of this lab?"

  Kyle's face is a mix of fear and confusion. "To make clones?"

  "Why?"

  Kyle starts shivering violently. "I don't know! They just told us to make clones!"

  "Who?"

  "The administrators."

  "Which administrators?"

  "The ones in charge of the lab!"

  "Why?"

  The volume of Kyle's voice rises to the point where he is nearly screaming. "I don't know! You don't ask questions around here! You do what you are told! People who asked too many questions disappear!"

  From behind Kyle, Valcrit nods.

  "You're going to have to come up with a better answer than that." I give Kyle a friendly smile.

  As Kyle shakes his head rapidly, the stench of piss and shit fill the air.

  Have any of you seen anything like these tubes before?

  Elan frowns. My Mistress had texts on devices like these and instructions on how to craft them. Before the Jotun Dragon War, there were many more Wytches, and among them, there was a sect that was researching the secrets of creating beast men, like the orcs and goblins. As far as I know, that sect disappeared during the war, and what these humans are doing is different. They appear to be trying to link the genetics, the DNA, of the Body to the nature of the Mind and Soul. Though, they are not using the proper names or terms, and their understanding of the nature of the Body, Mind, and Soul is pathetic and completely wrong in most ways.

  Elan's pedantic superiority almost makes me laugh, but I manage to restrain my reaction to just a smile.

  The Power crystals, with the information ripped from Turner's Mind, that Valcrit gave me had extensive details on their attempts to splice human and animal genetics to create new sentient creatures. The experiments being conducted in this lab that Kyle was a part of could be considered to be related, but on an instinctual level, I think there is a different purpose.

  I take out the Power crystal with the incomplete information from Turner's mind and toss it to Elan. This is what Turner was working on. It seems to a scientific approach to creating human-animal hybrids.

  Elan reaches into the crystal with her Power, and I turn back to the bronze colored cylinders.

  As Elan had said, Sandor was much weaker than when I faced them in the Gor'achen Arena. He did not realize it, but he was a joke compared to the Sandor of the past. Whatever they are trying to accomplish in this lab, I do not think they have achieved it, and I do not believe I will gain anything by wasting more time here. There are no answers to be had for any of the questions that really concern me.

  It's time to go back to the Labyrinth. There's nothing to be gained here. Valcrit, what do you want to do with the two faggots?

  Valcrit displays a cold expression that might be called a smile. We should bring them back to the Labyrinth and sell them off as slaves. They will not bring much, but they are not useful for anything else. With few exceptions, the people of this world are too weak to have value.

  I shrug. Collar them.

  Click. Click.

  As I head for the elevator, I smile at the sound of collars being locked around Bobby and Kyle's necks.

  I want to look at the lab this Turner was working in. Normally, Elan shows an emotionless mask to the world when she is upset, but right now, there is a sick look on her face.

  Okay. We have to use a different elevator.

  There are three elevators in this bank. The one we took was an express to just the tenth floor. From what was in Turner's memories about about the elevators, each one accesses different floors, and he only had clearance for one of the elevators.

  After switching Kyle and Bobby for Turner, we take the elevator that accesses Turner's lab. The doors open on another lab. Like Kyle's, it
covers most of the area of over the loading dock and storage rooms. There are more of the bronze colored cylinder, but this time each one has a steel care around it.

  Elan walks up to a computer connected to monitoring equipment around one of the cages. Open this one for me!

  Yes, Mistress.

  After Valcrit acknowledges the command, Turner stumbles over the computer. Unlike Kyle and Bobby, Turner's eyes are vacant, and from the corners of his mouth, runnels of drool are hanging off chin. His vacant eyes stare at the computer for twenty seconds or so, and then, he starts to type slowly.

  When the computer beeps and the desktop replaces the lockout screen, Elan shoves Turner aside, knocking him to the ground, and starts searching through the data on the computer.

  While Elan looks for whatever has her so interested, I wander around the lab. Opening some of the cages, I look at what is inside the bronze colored cylinders. The things do not look like any of the beast races that I have ever encountered. I do not know what they are hoping to create, but I doubt that these monstrosities are it.

  Special Agent Jones looks in one of cylinders and frowns. This looks like someone dropped a grenade in pen full of pigs and pig farmers.

  I think it looks more like what you might get if you threw random human and animal body parts in an industrial size mixer.

  Special Agent Jones makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a snort. It might be an aborted laugh, but it is hard to tell with his stony expression. Unlike other Earth humans, he has enough mental defense that I cannot casual read his emotions.

  Elan shuts down the computer, and when she places her hand on it, it disappears, cart and all, into her dimensional storage ring.

  I look in her direction with a raised eyebrow. Do you think you can make it work back in Yggdrasil?

  Elan looks at the computer with a condescending expression. Duplicating 110V AC power will be simple.

  Elan could be called arrogant, but she is not wrong.

  I almost smile. Are you ready to leave?

  There is nothing else here of interest.

  No one interferes with our return to the loading dock. I would expect the Priestess to have more guards around. It is almost as though she is deliberately staying out of my way. The question is, why?

  Life

  *** Central California – Earth ***

  Return: Day 347

  August 10, 2078

  (Brand)

  We sweep the place from the front to the gate room without finding anyone. The underground bunker is abandoned. There are some lukewarm cups of coffee in one of the rooms that is set up as a break room.

  Did they run off because of us? Dacbold's expression is a bit skeptical.

  We might have wiped out their best troops the first time we came through. While talking, I start ripping some of that Elemental metal out of the walls and the wrecked door.

  Then, why would Sandor have been here with all those other duplicates?

  Maybe, he was being tested, and if he failed, he died. Woden would do that. When a tool doesn't meet his expectations, his first reaction seems to be discarding it.

  Without further comment, Dacbold shrugs and goes to work on the wall. After ripping out a piece of the Elemental metal, he examines it. This is interesting. Are you planning on claiming it all for yourself?

  Help yourself. I'm not gonna spend enough time to extract all of it.

  While we work, the rest of my party watches without complaining or commenting. Even though, I have never had any interest in being a leader, I somehow became one, and the others make dispute over my words and actions. Well, if Thorrin were here, he might or might not dispute my leadership, but other than Dacbold, there is no one in this room that might back him over me. I am not sure what Dacbold would do in the case of a dispute between Thorrin and myself.

  The sooner I can escape the position of being a leader, the happier I will be. After I have finished off the Earth and collected what Boran promised, I will leave Gor'achen. I will leave the others behind. I have no interest or desire and dragging around an entourage. If I am to become strong, strong enough to overthrow those who call themselves gods, I cannot be reliant on the power of others. I have to stand on my own.

  Without making a conscious decision, my eyes drift to Elan and Angelique. They are both watching me, but they are not seeing me in the same light as the rest. If they follow me, they are likely to die, and I do not want to see that. I will do my best to convince them not to follow me to their deaths, but if they do not choose to listen, I will not stop them. They would just chase after me, and that would put in dangers that I might never know about.

  Elan smiles at me. Her expression is a mixture of joy and sadness, and through the whisper channel, her words form inside my mind. You cannot leave me behind. My time is limited, and if I lock myself away and focus on training, my chances of reaching the next Path are still slim. From now until my death, I will walk with you and only you.

  I cannot stop myself from frowning and turn back to my work.

  After gathering enough metal to forge several suits of armor, I stand and walk to the gate.

  Elan meets me in front of the gate and speaks to me through the whisper channel. With your Power like it is, are you able to open the gate?

  No.

  Then, I shall do it for you.

  It only takes Elan a few moments to craft a spell to control the gate. As the spell connects Elan's Mind to the gate, it shimmers with silvery-grey light. In about a minute, a field of silver energy fills the gate's arch.

  Elan looks at me with a smile and touches my face. Shall we go?

  I take a quick glance around the room. Get those slaves moving. Were going back to Yggdrasil.

  *** Four Bones Goblin Lair – Battleground of the Damned ***

  Return: Day 347

  (Brand)

  Special Agent Jones kicks the corpse of a goblin over onto its back. "So this is a goblin?"

  I do not bother looking at the corpse. "Yeah."

  "It looks like a pygmy fathered a bastard child on a chimpanzee."

  I shrug. "Goblins are a beast race. Most of the beast races were created as artificial hybrids between humans or Alfar and animals."

  Special Agent Jones' frown reveals more than a little indignation. "And those bastard's are trying to make more of these things on Earth? Why?"

  I snort out of irritation. "If we knew the answer to that, a lot of other things might start making sense."

  We do not even know what Woden is attempting to accomplish with Earth, let alone why. None of what he has done makes any sense. What was the purpose behind the Great Fuck Over? Why did he trap hundreds of thousands more players in the bodies of their characters at the point Jinmu and I were leaving Earth the first time? What were they looking to accomplish with their cloning experiments that left a single Mind and Soul in control of multiple bodies? Nothing makes sense regarding the actions of Woden and his followers. Either, Woden is completely insane, or his plans are so deep and convoluted there we have not seen enough of them to get a picture of the whole.

  After exterminating the goblins in the throne room where we exited from the rift, we do not see any other goblins.

  As we exit the caves, Dacbold chuckles. "It looks like you put the fear of the boom stick into them, Clarence."

  "Go fuck yourself."

  I think Dacbold's comment was meant to be a joke, but I have no idea what the joke is.

  There is a trail of smoke from a campfire in the distance. "It looks like someone has set up camp near the spider tunnels. There is no telling if they're allies or enemies. Be ready for a fight."

  Once we reach the bottom of the trail, the trees are sparse enough that I can make out the campsite. There appears to be only a single person sitting with her back to us. With the person be being someone from the Night Raven, I become more suspicious. The Night Raven should be keeping watch over the entrance to the spider tunnels in the Swamp of the Lost and sneaking past th
em should not be simple.

  As we near the camp, the person stands and turns around. Standing barely 5' tall, She looks like She is nothing but an extremely muscular Asian girl, but She is Life. Her beauty reminds me a wild hawk, fierce and full of pride. Her midnight dark eyes are like shining agates, and Her midnight hair hangs to Her knees. Her kimono-like garment is a red the color of fresh spilled blood.

  Seeing who it is, I stop dead in my tracks. "Why are you here?"

  Life smiles. "Obviously, I am here to meet you."

  I bite back the urge to make a snide comment. Her presence here has completely thrown me off-balance.

  "Come, sit and eat." At Life's words, a table and chairs for her plus my party appear. An instant later, enough food to stuff us all appears on the table.

  Following my lead, my party takes seats at the table. Before sitting down, Valcrit and Tyrend settle the slaves near the edge of the camp. With the exception of Special Agent Jones, everyone seems to be nervous in varying degrees. However, Special Agent Jones stares at Life with an awestruck expression on his face.

  Life glances at the slaves once before ignoring them.

  After everyone is seated, Life looks at me with Her head tilted slightly to the side and a frown on her face. "You are not taking very good care of yourself, Brand. Walking around, fighting, and engaging in strenuous sex with a hole bigger than your thumb burned through your abdomen, are you trying to commit suicide?"

  I do not bother trying to keep my own frown from showing. "This isn't enough to kill me, and I have things that I need to take care of."

  Her frown never wavering, Life flicks her fingers in my direction, and my wounds disappear. The only pain left is that from my evolution into a Triune. "You are one that has been Chosen by the Od. I should not have to do this. You should be able to heal yourself."