I Came I saw I got stabbed by a 3-foot tall nanotech of course I would be a tad bit pessimistic
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that’s rich.
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*wheeze
Anyways very nice.
I assume we’ll never get closure on the fates of Krelikan, winger, Keksalot etc?
Or is that to be continued… 
Edit:thinking about I’m quite disappointed Ghid wasn’t a boss fight, maybe at the end (of the presumed) trilogy there will be a ghiddy Ghid Ghidora fight?
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this was… interesting. the mob of corpses with Eilrach was a good idea.
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My goodness this is getting out of hand.
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Chapter 15
–
Iodine.
The bizarre taste in your theoretical mouth was radioactive iodine.
Which was weird, because last you checked you didn’t have thyroid cancer.
Your theoretical eyes opened up to take in the swirling mass of noting present above you. Your eyes had no chance of containing the fullness of it, and yet it glowed so darkly. The world itself was blanketed in the mirth and bubbled up in great swells of contempt, boldly proclaiming its distaste for the void; yet the void persisted. Did the void care? You asked the void in your perplexed state if such things were or had been, or could have been or ever will be. The void didn’t know. What a foolish question.
Whoa… You’ve really tripped out. Okay, reassess the situation. There was a large, nebulous form directly in front of your head. A clutching sensation on your left shoulder. You felt movement across the ground; ergo, logic demanded that you were being dragged. How logic unfolded itself is rather simple to define, as you observed events from your perspective and deduced an answer which readily supplied all present parts of your analysis. But why was logic folded in the first instance? Was the figure dragging you truly nebulous? Was he a nebule? If science and logic were to be trusted, could this individual be dispersed if the air pressure was high enough? Or perhaps, if the heat in the room was higher, could he dissolve? You had just left a nuclear eruption. Perhaps you could take him back there, and if the eruption didn’t mind, you could leave him there for a couple of hours. Then you could take an iron to logic to help with those creases…
Okay, now you’re certain you were going mad.
Rattlesnakes, and sitcoms, and melted oil. Tanner’s wax and chapstick. Cast and crew and content.
Who was speaking? It didn’t matter. But since you requested, and since it wasn’t too ridiculous a request, it was visible.
Come, let us return from perception, and grant this antiquated view of individuality.
Your mind seemed to step forward out of the veil, dragging the rest of your body with it. The room was dark as before, but it was the lightest darkness you had ever seen. The void itself was giving off invisible light. Are you sure you didn’t lose a few marbles back there?
In the center of this illuminating shadow stood a figure whose form was vague and uncertain. As soon as you were confident on his appearance it changed. He had the figure of a man, with wide shoulders, two arms, two legs, and one hand resting on a cane. Not for support, but for show. That was about all that remained consistent of him, as his body would be broad, squat, and powerful one moment, and thin, tall, and emaciated the next. Either he changed consistently to avoid detection or you simply couldn’t discern his true stature.
He spoke, but for a moment his words were verbal silence, the sound of nothing colliding with your theoretical ears. Ah, you were thinking in theoretical concepts again. Your sanity was - at the very least - beginning to patch itself together. The second time he spoke you started to lose hope for your sanity, as a hundred voices whispered, shouted, screamed, mumbled, and murmured into your theoretical ears. Don’t forget they were only a concept of ears.
“Rattlesnakes, and sitcoms, and melted oil.” The figure loomed above you, staring down into your tiny form. “You have a skewed sense of morality. You kill the innocent and save the wicked. You ally with the monster in order to perpetuate right. Are you mad, or just dreaming?”
Your theoretical mouth opened, but no sound came out. You had already thought your retort, and the figure replied. “The concept of purity is a dangerous one, hoarder. Who are you to perceive when you submit yourself to relative morality? Your worldview is corrupt and incompatible with reality.”
You retorted again. He responded. “I am in a better position than you are. Each step I take is calculated for outcome. You are not capable of consistently taking every step into complete account, factoring in the moral aspect of every breath. Your stress would overwhelm you. Therefore I am a better judge.”
You replied again, frustrated. This sort of objective superiority was tiring. Again, he responded. “If you are allowed to throw your moral compass into such jeopardy, I am allowed to elevate it. Let a better man judge between us.”
You retorted that, with this worldview, there was likely no better man. Your mental sarcasm was layered on as thick as you could manage. In return he threw something at you. Instinctively you caught it. It was your lower arm. Instinctively, you reattached it, despite that not being physically possible.
“Who are you to determine what is and isn’t possible?” The figure’s voices seemed angry. “Then again, who are you to be here at all?”
The figure loomed his massive head down to your perception, having still been shifting forms the entire time you two communicated, and only then did you notice his eyes. A second pair looked sideways at you from your left. But it wasn’t the eyes which bothered you, it was the eyes inside the eyes. And the eyes inside those. And there didn’t seem to be any perceivable end to the cycle, continuing further, and further, and further, indefinitely, but you couldn’t stop counting them, each grasping for your attention, ignoring your pleas for them to find a finite limit, growing more and more
horrible,
horrible, horrible,
horrible, horrible, horrible,
horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible,
horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible,
horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible,
horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible,
horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible, horrible…
You threw the doors open.
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my topic so I can doublepost to keep this non-story update separate 
sooo, I’ve given a crap ton of hints here. If you can’t figure things out I’m sorry but I will cry in your absence.
this story is almost over. for those of you who are super nerds who write fifteen page essays about short stories on the internet, start preparing, because the end is almost here, and only one question will be answered.
also then I will retroactively change the entire story after the book is produced
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boi what do you think I am an intellectual?
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Sounds good G.H. Iding!
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Wowie it keeps getting weirder and weirder, will chapter two fit in with chapter one? (saying that now feels really dumb)
I think I have found the hint 
Edit: do the eyes inside of eyes refer to the lenses on the Akaku?
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Why would you make yourself a god?
No! Of course, you would make yourself a god!
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I eat it.
It is a Ghid Old One.
Also you will be destroyed for your double posting Ghid.
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No.
It is THE Ghid Old One.
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Ghidthulu
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I mean, ghid, god, only difference is the first letter.
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N0.
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Someone flagged my post as spam so I’m reposting it
no 
there’s a part before it gets bonkers which is a major hint as to what’s happening. Might require an internet search to comprehend, though.
bold of you to assume I have to make myself one
I hate you
a fate I will gladly accept as I deserve it in full
He’s right, the vowel is also different
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I will it admit it was me and it was an utter accident. I didn’t see Winger’s post between the double and your response. (His profile pic is so white I have been accidentally missing the posts because I think they’re blank space.) So I thought it was an intentional triple post. Only after I sent the flag I realized Winger responded between it. I had hoped a mod would restore it, because it broke no rules, but I guess they deleted it. I apologize. 
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You’re not invited to my birthday party
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Cronk the plan worked!
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