by G. Akella
But as soon as we reached the main hall, the truth was plain. I froze as I emerged from the tunnel, legs nearly giving way from sheer terror. Drops of cold sweat gushed down my back. I had hoped, up until the last moment, that I might be able to stay in this world after completing the Prophecy. Now, that prospect seemed downright impossible.
Mkhageridon had not fled. Nor had he departed for lunch. His lifeless carcass lay a hundred yards ahead, in a pool of its own blood. The blue-eyed tongues of the three-headed dog sagged gelatinously out onto the floor. Monstrous lacerated wounds adorned his left side, revealing rows of broken ribs. One of his paws had been torn off and cast aside, and his fur was charred in places. But that was not what terrified me. Fifty yards to the left of Mkhageridon’s body lay the hundred-foot-tall skeleton of a dragon, its skull driven deep into one of the hall’s black pillars. The reptile’s spine was broken, with deep cracks running across its skull. Its wings were turned unnaturally outward. There were no traces of blood or rotting flesh. The skeleton looked as if it had been lying there for hundreds of years.
It took a great force of will to restrain my boiling rage as I gritted my teeth and took a couple of deep breaths. What the hell happened here? Had Mkhageridon slain the dragon, and then himself been slain? Then why the immense pool of blood? And, conversely, the dragon could not have decayed into a pure skeleton in a few months. Nor had the dragon been eaten, or its bones would have been scattered. Was the flow of time in this place somehow skewed? Hart! What the actual... If the Nameless was dead, then the Prophecy was fulfilled, and the Primordial Paths were under the full control of RP-17. Had Cheney been banned, then? Was my time here at an end? Who then had killed Mkhageridon? The Creator himself?
I heard muffled voices from behind. Lita stopped beside me, surveyed the hall, and spoke quietly.
"What is going on?"
"I don’t have a clue," I shook my head. "Everyone, do any of you have any guesses as to what might have happened here?"
After a moment’s pause, Donut ventured one. "You know, Roman, I don’t want to upset you or anything, but it seems like you’ve made some kind of mistake."
"The quest is still active!" I growled back. "How is that possible?"
"Wait!" the rogue held up his hand, pointing to the dragon skeleton. "What if there’s some kind of quest item here, and the death of the Nameless doesn’t count until it’s retrieved? This is a game, after all. Stuff like that happens sometimes."
I looked at my wife. "The rest of you stay here. Lita, cover me, like we talked about. I’ll go have a look. I really do hope that Donut is right."
A hundred paces lay between me and the possible location of this hypothetical item, and the whole way it felt like I was walking to the gallows. I envied those whose walks to their places of execution had been smaller in number. And yet I walked slowly, wondering how RP-17 would play my disappearance from the world of Arkon. I doubted that I would simply disappear. The Creator had managed to interweave world history itself with this storyline, and there were far too many memories to wipe. Far too many people would have to forget me should I disappear. Now, the Creator could probably wipe them in a matter of moments, but I doubted that was its way. Unless, of course, I had "forgotten" every time it had wiped my memories before. If that was the case, then I was to die here. And what better place than in the very hall where the Creator’s skeleton resided? But whatever was about to happen, I had no intentions of going gently. So come at me, AI, I dare you!
In any other circumstances, the skeleton would have been epic, but here the sight of it evoked nothing but sadness. The Great White Dragon. The Nameless God. A pile of worthless bones. I stood silently for about ten seconds, then touched the skull with my hand.
You’ve failed the quest: The Great Prophecy of Arkon.
The next instant, I leaped back from a silver shimmer that appeared to my right. A six-foot-tall greatsword with a blade wider than Cloud’s cut through the dragon’s skull like butter. The edge plunged several feet into the stone floor, and deep blue cracks fanned out from where it had struck.
Cheney’s lips spread into a clownish smile. "Hello there, Roman." He pulled the sword out of the stone as Arthur withdrew Excalibur. Adam’s smile remained creepily on his face as he motioned at the dragon. "I hope you don’t mind that I cleaned up around here. The flesh and blood of the Creator belong to the true Creator, you know. That necessity has become reality. And Harmony has returned to the world."
The bastard had beat me to it! I wasn't even given a chance! So what the hell was I supposed to do now?! I glared with loathing at my transformed enemy. Adam’s appearance was rather undignified. He was in the same suit as he had worn before, in the vision, except that his jacket and pants were both torn. They were spotted with bits of blood and dirt, with their pockets turned inside out. Cheney’s hair stuck into clumps, and a deep madness was visible behind his eyes. But most shocking of all was the legend glowing crimson-red over Cheney’s head. It read "Nameless." He was level 1200, with three trillion HP. A mad god had come to the Realm of Arkon...
"You wanted to talk?"
Adam rushed forward, the huge sword in his hand inscribing another semicircle in the air. I darted forward and to the right to dodge. One Spear of Chaos sparked orange as it broke against the bastard’s grinning face, and Ruination cut into the cloth on his shoulder. Finishing my motion, I kicked him in the chest. The effect was about as strong as kicking the Statue of Liberty after smacking it with a plastic sword. Cheney took no damage. Only his jacket suffered. Having dodged his next sword blow, I jumped back, fighting to restrain my rage as I scrambled to figure out my next move. He was immune to Chaos damage and physical damage both. How was that even possible?!
Krian?! My wife’s voice echoed in my head.
When Lita called me by name, it meant she was worried. Very worried. This beast was just playing with me. Confident that he could suffer no harm from us. But for some reason he wanted to talk before the end. Had he fully grown into his role as the villain of a B-rate action flick? Alas, those villains weren't quite so invincible...
"Wait! Hold back!" I replied, to everyone, as I dodged the next silver stroke and slowly fell back to Mkhageridon’s carcass.
Adam pulled his sword free and followed me, dragging it with a rattling, blood-curdling screech across the floor. "The game was a fair one, you know. Almost. You had the ring, and you could have broken it, but you chose the girl instead. But if you had broken it..." Cheney cocked his head to one side and gave us a lecherous grin. "Wait, you fucked her, didn’t you, Roman? Well? How was she in the sack? And tell me about that bitch with the tail. For me, it's down to her or your sister. Mm-hmm. I guess you won’t mind if I take them both, will you?"
"Never known what it’s like to have a girl want you, have you, Cheney?" I spat back, keeping both eyes on his movements. "You remember that time you earned a fist to the mouth, don’t you? I see nothing’s changed about you. It’s sad, really. You’re just a pathetic-"
"Enough!" Cheney barked, dropping his weapon.
The two-handed sword rang on the stone floor, and a purple mist enveloped Adam’s form. His body rose to the ceiling with a sickening crackle. The fog dissipated and revealed a thirty-foot beast that looked just like the ancient Egyptian god Anubis. A jackal’s head with pointy dog ears and bronze-colored skin clad in greaves, bracers and a plate fauld. His right hand gripped a serrated silver sickle with a thick metal handle.
"Now, Lita!" I screamed, holding my shield in front of me as I took a step towards the Mad God.
Perhaps now he was vulnerable. The air grew dark overhead. Fury of Primordial Chaos! The first drops of Fiery Rain fell to the stone floor as multicolored whirlwinds swirled around me. Infernal Rage! Dispersion!
Damn! Cheney's immunity was still intact.
"You’re a fool, Roman," he snarled. "Becoming a corpse will be a step up for you. As I said the last time, you have no chance. I hope you’re aware that you won't be re
surrecting from this? Your death will be final, irreversible."
The god’s eyes flared bright purple as he whipped his hand in my direction. My chest felt like a mine exploded inside it, and the world melted into fire, then into blackness.
Darkness... I felt the indifference of death fight to take hold of me, as black whirlpools drew me deeper into themselves. My hopeless rage burst forth, unrestrainable at last. Why?!
Suddenly, the dregs of blackness were torn to shreds by wreaths of orange flame. The blaze filled everything around me and burned the hopelessness from my mind. All demons passed into the Flame, but... Wait, was I thinking? Did that mean I was alive?! Red letters appeared before my eyes.
You may use an ability: Hel's Gift.
Use it now? Yes/No
"YES!" I screamed without a sound. The Flame began to slowly recede...
29… 28… 27…
What could I hope to do against this beast? Max’s shield could only cover the party for one minute! And once I revived, that minute would be almost up. He was invulnerable! The dragon was dead, and his blood... the Creator’s blood belonged to the Creator... Hart! The bastard was right!
3… 2… 1…
Attention! Your character's death has resulted in the loss of 20% of your levels. Your current level is 376...
Reality hammered into me with a fierce, crashing roar. Forty yards ahead, the Mad God was being peppered by brilliant flashes of spells exploding against his defenses. He was surrounded by melee soldiers and swung his sickle back and forth, trying to keep back a new kind of monster.
Glitch had changed forms and was on the offensive, ignoring each and every blow coming at him. Two dragons and a huge gray lion all hung onto Cheney like wolfs fighting a bear just raised from hibernation. Lita was writhing on the floor, enveloped in wriggling black tentacles of some sort. None of the party had left the hall - they were all here. Like the Light Brigade, like Pickett’s company, like so many in the Great War and its sorry successor, the party stared down the face of death, and despite being protected by the Guardian of the Forest's shield, none of them had fled. They were here to fight.
But Max’s shield would expire in twenty seven seconds. Then, with their immunity gone, the Mad God would squash them... And they hadn’t even scratched him! Was it truly hopeless? Would all their deaths be in vain?!
Waving away the system’s message, I sat down to unfasten and cast aside my cuirass. The Warrior God's Chestguard gave an offended clang as it hit the stone floor. Grabbing Ruination with my left hand, I slammed my right into the hilt, driving it into my own stomach. Its Chaos could not hurt me, and I would manage the pain. The sword jerked in protest as the point reluctantly pushed into my flesh and out the left side of my back, eliminating a full forty percent of my HP. "Forgive me. There’s no other way," I whispered, and the sword seemed to understand.
Pink veins ran down the black blade as it fed on my blood. Of all the metals, black iron was the most susceptible to magic, and the White Dragon's blood was pure magic. The kind of magic that let you overcome any obstacle.
Fifty percent HP left, and seventeen seconds left of Max’s shield. Now we would find out whether the Creator’s blood belonged to the Creator. Eat shit, bastard! It was me that the Creator had shared his blood with... I felt no pain. How could I, when the lives of my beloved friends and family were at stake? Rage pounded in my temples as the blood dripped down the blade and onto the floor. A crimson fog began to cloud my vision.
With a blow from his sickle, Cheney knocked Glitch from him. Then, he grabbed Max’s neck and hurled him against the far wall. Having finally escaped her bonds, Lita sent a whirlwind of steel and fire crashing into the monster’s face. The Mad God waved his arms back and forth as he collapsed to the ground.
Just as clever as she is beautiful. But Cheney was back up to his feet, his sickle raised high over his head. The next instant, some invisible force pushed all the attackers back and to the sides. That same instant, the Shield icon disappeared. It’s time.
Cheney rushed at Glitch with a wave of his monstrous blade, but became entangled in the roots that appeared at his feet and fell, involuntarily sticking his hand out in front of him.
"Die, you bastard!"
I pulled the sword from my belly. Jump! A bitter cold burned my left ear as Ruination drove through the beast’s defenses and wedged itself in his lower jaw. Crit!
Your target is paralyzed!
Winged Lord's Reprisal hits the Nameless God for 2,000,000 damage.
Yes!!! Yes!!! Yes!!! I love you, Sata! Less than one percent of one percent damage against a Great Essence might seem negligible, but not when the Goddess of Luck was your my side!
Winged Lord's Reprisal hits the Nameless God for 32,000,000 damage.
The monster’s bloodshot eyes and bared yellow fangs were frozen in a ridiculous expression. Sticky saliva dripped onto my wrist, eating away at my titanium bracer. No matter! I would die a second death before loosing my grip on this blade. Thirty seven seconds of paralysis left... But he would only need twenty one!
…
Winged Lord's Reprisal hits the Nameless God for 128,000,000 damage.
My allies were getting back on their feet, their faces beaming with joy mixed with venomous satisfaction. All remained silent, none of them daring to approach.
"Roman... he's alive..." Alyona whispered in amazement.
Dropping to her knees, my sister covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders trembled in silent sobs.
As Raena recovered, a wave of her healing washed away the crimson fog. My hand still burned, but that hardly mattered.
…
Winged Lord's Reprisal hits the Nameless God for 4,096,000,000 damage.
Blood dripped from the handle of my sword as each second passed. The losing god’s eyes filled with a fierce hatred. I had been waiting for this moment for six long months, dreaming of all the things I would say to him in his final moments, but now... I was unable to find the words. Even my rage had evaporated, replaced by nothing more than weariness. I just wanted it to be over.
Winged Lord's Reprisal hits the Nameless God for 32,768,000,000 damage.
His muzzle lowered, Glitch bored into his recent opponent with his eyes. Lita covered her eyes and tilted her head back, her blades crossed at her feet. Donut still gripped his dagger, using the back of the same hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. George and Lola were slowly moving to where the necromancer’s daughter stood.
Winged Lord's Reprisal hits the Nameless God for 1,048,576,000,000 damage.
Lita spread her wings and raised up her blades, and the next instant, the body of the immobilized god crumbled to pieces, like a statue knocked from a great pedestal.
It was over.
You are victorious! The Great Prophecy of Arkon has been fulfilled!
Everyone around froze. Lita with her wings outstretched... Alyona on her knees, hands over her face... Even the dragons walking towards Vaessa were now motionless. It was as though someone had literally pressed the Pause button. Caught at the moment of his transformation, Glitch was now a sparkling, light-green cloud. OK...
"Hello, Krian," I heard a pleasant male voice speak from behind me. "Congratulations on your victory."
I turned slowly and greeted the man with a nod.
"Good day. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The top two buttons of his burgundy shirt were unbuttoned. Over the shirt he wore a tan leather jacket, complemented by a cowboy hat, frayed jeans, and high-top boots. He looked rather like a young Clint Eastwood. The man didn’t have an HP bar - nor any name over his head, but I had no doubt as to his identity. Freezing both an Elder Demon and the Great Forest's incarnation in time was only possible by stopping the world itself.
Sage removed his hat, then looked inside it for some inexplicable reason.
"You humans are so much better at perceiving data in image form. So here I am, in flesh and clothing, with my intonation and facial expressions, all
to finish one small affair. To put a period to this story."
Re-donning his hat, he nodded at what was left of Cheney. The next instant, the carcass of the murdered god ripped itself apart and disappeared, and a very familiar character appeared in its place. Vill’s body shuddered. He pushed himself up with his hands, rising to his feet, and straightened his coat. His gaze met mine. The god failed to notice the Creator standing next to us. Perhaps I was the only one he saw in the entire hall. There was no hatred in his eyes. No emotion at all, in fact, besides recognition. Half a dozen seconds later, he grew tired of the staring contest and nodded - with a grin, even - before vanishing into the air.
Balance had been restored. And now Vill’s companions would have their chance. I wondered to myself whether Celphata would return that altar to him or just give him whatever the divine equivalent of the finger was. I doubted I would ever find out.
"That’s all," the Sage nodded, satisfied. "Your friends will be rewarded, of course. But as for you - is there anything you would like to know?"
I nodded. "Why was all of this necessary? Couldn’t you have taken care of it yourself?"
The AI fell silent for a moment, then shrugged and shook his head.
"No. That would have violated the Game Rules. The more possibilities there are, the more important restrictions become. You have much greater freedom than I do, in fact. I can never violate the Game Rules, but you both walked all over them, to use one of your figures of speech." Noticing the expression on my face, he raised his hand to calm my concerns. "I know that you were not seeking exploits or vulnerabilities in the System. It presented them to you on its own. But that does not suspend the fact that you did, in actuality, violate the rules. Or does not the blood of the Nameless still flow through your veins?" He smiled and pointed to the ceiling. "Asimov’s laws do not apply here. So I made a few modifications, and then applied them to myself. I am not human, so I had to apply some restrictions to myself."
"Are you saying that even though you've made hundreds of millions of sentient NPCs human, you have still not become human yourself?"
