My favorite part was when @Diero defenestrated himself, truly the greatest chapter so far.
3 Likes
who’s perspective is this being told from
1 Like
see? confusing.
–
Chapter 12
–
Only after Cordax was silent for more than a minute did he stand back up, his joints slowing their wobbling until they were still. “It’s just a replica.” He sighed, his breath forced down into a calmed pattern. “How, or why, I can’t ever know, but it isn’t real. It can’t be real, because…”
He cut off the awkwardness of the trailed sentence with a disingenuous shrug and slunk his hands into his pockets as he marched slowly back towards Diero. Winger’s head turned to follow him as he left, and then slowly rotated down towards me. I was still eyeing Cordax’s steps as he walked away, but the cutting gaze from my son eventually drew me back to face him. “You’ve got a lot of info you’re not very willing to talk about, don’t you?”
I looked at where I assumed his eyes were as he continued. “If you’re so concerned about the well-being of this party - so content with being the shoulder to cry on, the voice of reason, why don’t you stop keeping everything hidden? I’m not demanding we know all, but if you knew about the-”
“Hint taken, goodness.” I grumbled, waving Winger off. I couldn’t- wouldn’t dare imply I had already reached this decision on my own without his badgering me about it, because certain preconceived notions about my character had to be maintained regardless of the situation. But I was serious about my intention, you must understand. I was completely and wholly decided upon my course of action, even if it meant spoiling that carefully laid and masterfully strung plan I concocted.
With Winger at my tail, I sauntered back up to the party with an air of discontent. Cordax was almost leaning on Diero’s legs, while Diero was casting the most revolted expression down at Cordax for having the audacity to make physical contact with him. Or maybe it was the attire? Or maybe it was Diero being offended that Cordax found him particularly apt to be a lamp post. Regardless, the little fellow’s face was glum, focused on the distant street rather than the glowing ring directly in front of him.
“And I said to him, yes, that’s exactly why I know you have cancer. And he was all puffy about it, but it seemed fairly obvious what with the cyst and- oh, sorry, am I rambling again? I apologize. Heck, I could ramble long enough to write a book about it. Would that be any good? Oh hey there, mister kind sir? Uh, I suppose I should inquire as to your name if we’re going to be traveling together. Oh, and the boxer guy is a no-go. Systems automatically fried when he went down. Nothing I can do.”
“Of course.” I sighed. “Look, before we proceed, there’s something I need to make clear- to you, and to everyone else here before we head out.”
…
“Okay, something first.” I placed two fingers on where the bridge of a nose would normally be. “Do you have a different form you can take? The ring thing is obnoxious as all get-out and it’s hurting my eyes.”
“I have a library of eight hundred and seventy two different-”
“If you’ve got a default form, take it and then shut up for a minute.” I huffed. “And yes, I remember you saying you have an original form, don’t bother me about it. Now…” I adjusted the wooden Akaku on my face. “You all know the reason why we’re here right now.”
“No?” Winger retorted.
“I have no idea who any of you are.” AI replied.
“Boss, you might want to try a different angle of approach.” Diero leaned over and ‘whispered’ into my face, earning a repulsed glare from myself. “We’re all here to get rid of Ghid, right? Is that not why we’re all hangin’ around together? Everything thus far leads to him.”
“Wait, Ghid survived that fight?!” Cordax gasped. “I thought Diero killed him!”
“Naw.” The deadsperado shook his head despondently. “You remember those Ghids in the cider factory? All Ghid. Somewhere there’s an original Ghid controlling all the rest. We find him, we stop this endless terror sweeping the whole world.”
“Ooh! Ooh!” AI implied a massive grin. “Maybe we can talk to Volume! He’s the head honcho of this city, maybe he would know where we can find Ghid at! The real Ghid, I mean. Who’s Ghid?”
I cleared my throat rudely, gaining everyone’s attention and holding it in maintained silence for a few short moments. “I can answer that question right now, Al. You see, I am-”
Something glass broke across the back of my head. A soft blue smoke swept across my vision, and I turned around with a scowl, barely catching the smallest glimpse of the police force which had conveniently convened in the nearest alley, all crouching in the dark, waiting for the perfect opportunity to throw something at my head. My lungs inhaled to retort before my vision suddenly shot to black and my eyes slowly crept open in a massive meadow, blanketed with flowers of all different shades. Reds, blues, yellows and oranges graced my vision, and as I fell back onto the soft grass beneath me, the clouds played in perfect little whisps of wind, dancing across the sky.
“Dad,” Winger sighed, looking in disappointment at me flat upon the ground. “Stop being ridiculous and come on; we’ve got just enough time to make it to the big tree with the others.”
“The big-” I began, but stopped myself short. Of course I knew what he was talking about - The big tree, the one with all the vines across it, on the very top of the hill. I forced myself back onto my feet and marched up the slope, feeling the inescapable pull of age as I did so. At the top of the hill, nestled under its shadow, was the rest of the group, with Diero adding the finishing touches to a colossal cake with orange frosting and little Ghid cookies strewn around the edge.
“Glad you could make it, boss!” Diero grinned. “Sorry, Ghid, that’s gonna take some getting used to. Here’s your forgiveness cake, from all of us and me, of course.”
I sheepishly took a piece. “You do all know I don’t deserve this in the slightest, but- thank you. Thank you, son, and thank you, all. From the bottom of my heart, thank-”
-̶͉̫̦̬̓̍̀̋̈́̇͆̽̃͛̽̈̑̌͘-̵̨̨̛̛̱͓̥̙̦̖̫͖̩̘̝̱̤̜̖̹̮͖͙̗̞͕̬̭̝̟̰̠̻̤̎̿̈́͆̈́̓̾̏̐̏̾͒̎̕͜͠ͅͅ-̷̨̡̛̲͇̪̙͉̩̮̥͓̩̩̹͔͇̤̥͓̲̲̱͇̜̞͖̝͕̰̞̼͙̺̫͎̹̫͔̑͂͒̑͐͛̒̈́͒̄͊̐̇̒̕̚͠-̴̛̘̹͈̳͚͋͛̍̋̈́̈́̈́̈́̊͐́͂̍́̃͐̐̈́̌̐̍́̌̓́́͒͘̚͘͘͘͝͠ͅ-̸̛͎̣̦͉̯͎͈̯̪̮̎̋̒͛̍͐͑̒̑̏̀͌̓̏̽͒͗̿̽͑̑͒̓͊̀̂̀̔͑̎̅̈́̑͂͂̒̂̌̈́͛͋̒͘͘̚̚̚̚͘͜͠͝͝-̶̡̨̙̜͈̟̜͙̙̩̩͎̖͓̫̖͍͙͈̼͙͎̪͆̒̏̒́́̃̑͋̾̈̈́͒͋̽͗͌͌͛̂͗̎̅̃́́̄̀͑̕̚͠ͅ-̴̧̡̢̧̨̡̛̛̛̼͙̲̘̖̼͇͈̝̥̬̜͉̲͓͍̲̦͎̭̼̦͖͉̹̻̰̱͓̜̥̜̹̯̯͇̦͚̾͌͆̅͒͛̆̑̍́̈́̈́͗̔̿̆̈́̈́̿̓͑̿̀̄̂̓̀̅͛̚͜͠͝-̷̨̢̧̛̬̩̞̝̻͈̣̺̝̮̪̭̗͈͕̻̥͓̮-̷̡̢̢̬̱̱̝̬͇̯̰̺̗̙̺͔̩̫̘̯̞̟̮͔̥̟̥̳̣̹̗͚̯̲͓̽̅͋̎̂͋̅̋̽͌̊̂̓̉̓͊́̆̈̊́͛̈́͐̋̾̋͘͜͜͝-̶̧̢̢͇̫͕͙̠̳̼̬̩̰̑̅̏͘̕
R̷̵̴̸̶̸̵̷̸̵̶̸̸̷̵̴̷̴̴̵̵̷̶̷̸̸̵̶̵̴̵̵̵̶̶̷̷̶̸̷̴̶̶̵̴̶̸̸̴̸̴̶̵̷̵̸̸̷̶̷̵̸̸̴̴̶̵̶̶̵̴̵̷̴̵̴̴̸̸̸̴̷̴̴̸̴̴̴̴̶̵̴̷̴̵̶̴̶̷̷̷̶̷̸̸̵̶̵̵̷̵̷̴̴̶̸̵̴̶̵̷̶̵̷̴̴̴̷̸̸̷̶̸̴̵̸̴̸̶̵̷̶̵̴̷̵̴̵̸̸̸̷̷̸̶̴̴̴̷̵̵̶̴̷̵̸̵̵̸̴̵̴̸̷̷̸̴̶̸̸̴̵̶̴̸̴̴̴̶̶̷̶̴̷̶̶̵̴̸̴̶̴̴̵̵̵̵̸̴̶̸̸̷̴̷̷̵̷̶̴̶̵̵̵̷̴̵̵̸̵̷̴̵̵̴̴̸̴̶̸̶̸̴̸̵̸̷̶̸̸̷̸̴̸̴̷̶̴̸̸̴̷̸̴̶̸̴̷̴̶̷̶̷̵̶̴̷̴̸̸̷̶̷̵̷̸̷̴̵̵̶̷̷̷̷̸̷̴̸̶̷̸̶̷̶̷̴̷̵̸̵̶̴̸̸̷̸̶̵̸̴̷̴̷̴̴̸̷̸̶̸̶̵̵̴̴̶̸̶̷̴̴̶̸̷̸̶̸̸̵̷̸̶̵̸̶̴̶̵̵̶̴̴̴̷̶̵̶̸̴̶̵̷̴̴̵̶̵̴̵̷̷̸̶̴̸̶̴̷̴̷̴̡̨̨̢̢̧̧̨̡̢̨̨̢̧̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͇͎̻̣̖͙͍̟͉͎̝͔̞̗͕͎̯͖͉͍͉͙̹̝̣̟̲̫̙̙͓͉̯̹̪͉͎̜̥̲̮̬͕̳͉̳͍̙͇͇̜̜͎̹̲̯̱̩̖̻̮͕̥͍͇͔̬̗̗̭͇̠̮̣̳̙̹͇͎̪͎̳̯̤̘̩̜͔̞̯̤̺̙̦̙̤̱̥̤̪̗̙͍͇͉̘̘̜̬͓͎̟̭͚̳͉͚̳̭̠̩̦͈̟͓̠̞̗̤̜̞̮͙͉͕̬̪̠͖̲͙̘̖͉͖̖͙̳̪̖͉̰̼̱͇͊̊̈̄̈͂̀̽̽̊̈́͆̿̉̓͐̅̓̈́́́̒̇̍̀̉̿͊̎͌̑͆͛̑̂̿́̇͛̉͊́̈́͋̾̉̄͑͐͗̈́͗͑͆͐̈́́̂͛͋̈́̏̈̈́̈́̉̾̂̌̐̽̀͌̈́̿͂̊̀̀̍͐̽̄͊̓̋͗̐̀̊͗̋͐̀́̽̏̀͗̏̽͒̒̒̿͂̈́̓̃̄͋̀̏̋̒̂͂̿̊̒̈́͗̈́͐̌̅̒̋͋̽͋̾̿͒͆̓̍͐̾̐̐̚̕̕̚̕͘̚̕̚͘̕͘͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅȩ̶̸̴̵̶̸̴̴̵̴̵̴̸̶̸̶̸̷̴̶̶̷̴̶̶̸̶̵̸̷̶̸̶̸̸̵̵̴̸̸̵̸̶̴̵̸̶̵̶̸̴̷̷̸̷̶̵̷̵̸̶̵̷̶̶̴̷̴̸̴̶̴̸̷̷̷̵̴̷̸̴̶̵̷̶̶̵̸̸̵̸̷̷̷̷̷̸̸̵̵̶̵̷̴̶̵̸̵̸̵̷̶̵̴̵̷̷̵̴̵̴̸̵̷̸̶̷̷̴̷̶̴̵̷̶̵̴̷̸̵̴̸̷̷̴̵̴̴̵̴̷̴̵̸̴̵̷̵̷̷̴̴̴̶̵̷̴̸̵̶̷̷̴̴̵̸̶̷̵̶̷̴̵̵̷̡̧̢̢̡̨̨̧̛̛̱͇̳̬̪̳͔͎̫̭͇̖̣͇̰̯̼͕̻͉͍͇̪̫̟̝̱͔̭̭͙̟̰̼͚̲͙͍̗̣̩̟̦̼̬̭̼̩͙̱̮̖̻̞̲̗͚̫̫̠͎̳̜̬͖̳̖̪̳̠̙͑͗̾͛̈́̋̾̓͒͊̀̏́̇̿̒͂͛͂̀̈́̅̆̎̈́̾̿̒̐̓̿̾͑͑̈́̔́̾͑̍̏͒̓̆̃̐̉͂̓̑̈́̈́͒͗͒̅̈́̇̈́̑̔̈́̀̑̐́̀͗́͐̕̚̚̚͘͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝ͅń̶̴̷̵̵̴̶̷̶̷̶̸̴̶̵̴̵̴̷̴̶̶̶̸̸̵̴̸̴̶̷̴̷̴̸̶̶̸̴̶̸̶̵̴̸̵̷̵̸̶̵̵̴̴̴̵̷̶̸̵̸̷̴̶̷̷̵̶̷̸̵̵̴̵̶̴̵̵̷̶̸̷̸̴̶̷̷̶̴̸̵̵̷̴̵̴̸̸̴̴̵̵̴̶̴̷̵̴̵̵̶̸̶̴̶̴̷̷̵̵̴̴̶̸̵̷̷̵̵̶̶̶̵̶̸̸̷̷̷̴̵̴̶̴̸̸̵̴̶̷̷̴̷̵̸̷̷̸̴̵̶̸̵̴̵̵̶̶̵̶̶̸̸̶̶̵̸̷̵̷̶̸̴̴̸̵̴̸̵̵̵̷̶̶̵̴̵̴̶̷̴̴̶̷̸̶̷̵̴̶̵̵̸̸̷̶̵̸̵̴̶̶̶̴̶̶̸̶̸̷̷̸̶̵̷̶̷̴̶̴̸̷̴̷̵̷̶̴̶̷̵̴̶̴̷̴̶̴̸̶̷̵̵̴̵̶̶̸̴̶̷̸̷̸̶̴̸̴̸̶̶̷̴̵̸̷̷̷̴̴̸̶̴̶̵̴̶̸̸̶̷̶̷̶̸̴̶̴̸̵̵̷̸̸̶̸̴̶̴̸̵̵̸̷̸̷̶̵̶̷̵̵̶̴̷̶̷̴̸̷̷̸̷̶̶̵̵̶̷̸̵̵̶̶̴̷̴̶̷̴̸̷̵̷̷̵̴̶̷̢̧̢̧̨̢̢̢̧̡̢̡̡̛̛̛̛̛̝̫̣͉͎̬̲̟̠̙̬̼͚̹̥͇̠͚͖̦̻̼̰̟̗͈͖̝̺̖̭̖͔̳̺̖͚̱̺̣̩̞̤̣͇͈̣͓̲͙̦̝̙̘͙̳̜̥̣̲͉̣̖̖̖̲̻͕̩̖͖̝̣̟̤̱̰̣͖͉̙̪͎̖͚̝̙̪̼͍͕͙̼͇͔̣̣͈̫̲̙̼͇̪̺͖̤̦̠̙̻̘̩͚͍̫͈̘̝̬̞͚͖̞͇̗̦͓͕̪͚̪͔̹̯̟̼̼̟̜̺̰̩̯̺̯̳̥̻̇̄̉̌̀̇̇́̎̆̓̿͒̀̽̏̄́̒͑̒͂̈̌̅͆̎̈́̿͊̂̄̀̋͂̋͌͂̽͋̉̈́͂͊͗̐́̈́͌͋̈́̽̑̎͛̂̉̀̾̎͑̈͂̐̐͐̈́͌̂̽̓̓̄́͛̆̂̓͑̀̃́̄̒̒́̄̑͐͆́̓̄͗͒̐͂̂͒̏̓̅̐̍̇̎̂͒̾̑̐̃͆̂͒̄͌̑̑̀̋̃̓̅̅̐̍̊̈̀͆̈́͌͗̾̔̊̆̀̀̇̕̕̚̕͘̚̚̕̕̕͜͜͜͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅn̶̵̴̸̷̸̴̶̶̴̸̶̶̵̵̶̵̶̶̸̸̵̸̵̴̸̷̸̴̶̶̵̶̴̶̸̷̶̶̵̷̶̵̶̸̶̶̶̴̵̴̵̸̴̸̴̶̶̷̷̵̴̵̴̵̸̴̸̷̶̷̸̶̸̶̵̵̶̴̵̵̷̷̴̶̷̷̷̶̸̸̶̸̴̸̷̷̴̵̴̷̷̴̸̷̵̶̸̴̸̴̵̸̴̴̸̸̵̸̴̵̵̵̶̸̷̴̴̷̶̷̵̵̷̴̸̷̵̴̴̵̷̴̶̷̶̴̸̶̷̶̷̸̶̸̶̴̶̶̸̸̶̶̵̶̷̵̸̷̴̷̶̸̴̴̴̷̷̷̴̵̴̶̵̴̵̶̴̴̵̶̶̶̶̷̵̷̴̵̴̸̶̴̶̴̷̵̸̶̷̴̸̵̶̵̶̷̷̸̵̴̸̴̷̸̷̴̶̴̴̵̵̴̶̶̸̴̴̸̵̵̷̸̶̴̵̴̸̷̸̴̴̸̸̸̵̶̶̴̵̸̴̶̶̶̵̸̴̶̴̴̵̸̶̴̵̷̷̷̴̸̶̵̶̵̶̵̶̵̷̴̸̵̷̶̴̶̷̷̵̴̵̵̸̷̴̶̸̴̴̸̴̷̵̶̷̴̶̸̶̶̷̶̸̴̵̶̶̴̷̷̴̴̴̶̶̷̸̸̶̵̸̷̵̸̵̸̸̷̴̸̶̵̵̶̷̴̸̵̸̷̷̶̴̷̷̶̷̷̴̴̷̸̵̷̸̷̵̶̴̵̴̸̸̵̶̸̸̸̵̶̶̴̶̴̷̵̵̸̴̶̶̵̷̷̸̴̶̷̸̴̶̴̴̸̴̶̸̴̴̵̵̷̵̶̴̷̷̷̷̴̷̵̷̸̶̷̶̸̶̸̴̶̷̸̷̸̶̸̵̴̶̸̸̶̶̶̴̸̶̴̸̶̵̵̸̵̵̸̵̴̷̷̴̴̷̷̵̶̷̷̴̴̴̴̶̷̵̴̸̴̷̴̷̷̷̴̵̸̸̸̵̶̷̶̴̴̷̷̷̴̸̵̷̶̴̷̵̷̴̷̶̸̷̸̸̷̸̷̴̸̴̶̶̸̴̷̴̸̷̸̴̴̷̷̷̵̴̵̴̵̵̵̵̷̵̵̷̴̵̷̷̸̸̴̴̸̸̷̸̴̷̵̷̷̷̡̡̢̢̧̢̢̢̢̡̢̢̢̡̧̢̢̨̢̨̢̢̡̡̢̧̡̨̛̛̛̛̛̛͎̪̦͈̝̞̬͎̻̣͎̮͓̣͚̮͔̘̝͓̤̪̙̝̩̘̤̺̩̪̻͓̱͙̟̬͙͈̭̥͚͍͕̻̺͎̬̲̠̪̣̻̹͙̩̱͇͈̟̱͖̣̫̼̳̪̬͎̬͔̤̜̙̱̩̣͉̟͉͈̜̯͓̟̙̹̱̭̮̩̱̘̲̗̯̣͉͖̦͎̭͔͕̼̲̤͇͇̗̝͚̠͇̱̥͔̱̤̠̭̬̹͚̯̖͓̟̖͇̥̭̯̮̬͎̞͇̼͙̳̟̭̖̳͕̭̝͙̲̪͓̥͖͚̜̜̱̪̫͎̝̫̠͎̲̹͍͔̼͖̱̹͈̳̹̯͓̹̩̘͕͓̭͎͉̠̲̰̲̘̝̺̼̼̬̟̮̰̺͉̜̞̫͚̦͇͙̲͔̞̗͕̝̙̭͔̞͚̻̳̬̹̱̞̪̣̣͓̤͐͒͗̅͂̽̅̈́̀͐̈̅̈́̈́̄́͂̉͒̉͑̄̂̔͌͋̆̏͊̍̃́́̈́̀̈́͗̅̄͐̓̊͑̒̒̎͗̿̅̑̀̓̔̿̿̂̇̊́̀̉̄̔̿̓͑͗̆̽͊̀͑̔́͐̈͗̀̎̄̈́̈́̍̉̇̉̆̂̃̓͌̾̓͌̇̀̀̊̽̓͋͌̈́̐͂̃̈̿͗̃͌͒͂͗̂̓̾̄̊͑̈́͑̄̓͂̄͒̍̌̅͊̄̅͑̋̔͒͂͛̋̔̇͑̉̉̓̌͋͊͂̈́̋̆͆̌̊̀͋̽̈́̐͆̀̈́͋͆̃͗̔̂̈́͆͆͐̌̓̅̏̊̀͑͆̌̅͛̑͂̎́̈́̍̌͌͆̀͂͐̓͊͊̽̎̔͒̐́̄̉̈̀͒̓̓̋̃̌̕̕͘̚̚͘͘̚͘̕͘̚̚̚͘͘͘̕͘͘͜͜͜͠͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅë̴̸̷̷̶̶̵̵̶̶̶̸̶̶̴̷̵̸̴̵̸̷̷̶̴̷̸̸̸̵̸̵̴̴̴̷̵̶̴̶̵̶̸̸̴̸̴̵̷̵̸̷̵̶̸̷̵̸̶̵̸̷̵̸̴̷̴̷̶̵̵̶̴̸̸̶̴̵̶̶̶̸̷̴̸̶̴̸̷̸̸̵̶̴̷̷̷̸̷̵̵̷̶̴̶̶̶̵̶̸̵̷̵̸̴̶̸̵̷̵̷̶̵̸̶̷̸̶̴̸̵̶̶̵̵̵̸̴̵̸̷̸̵̸̸̵̷̵̶̸̵̶̶̴̷̴̵̵̸̴̷̴̷̸̶̶̵̸̸̵̶̴̷̵̴̵̸̶̷̷̴̸̸̴̴̴̴̵̴̷̷̶̸̸̸̴̵̴̶̸̴̶̶̷̶̶̵̶̸̴̶̸̴̸̸̸̷̶̵̵̶̷̶̶̴̷̷̵̵̴̸̶̴̵̵̷̸̴̸̴̶̶̶̴̵̸̶̸̸̴̵̴̷̶̴̶̸̴̵̸̶̵̵̶̴̴̷̶̸̵̶̷̵̷̸̴̶̷̷̷̷̸̶̴̶̷̵̶̸̴̸̸̷̴̷̵̶̴̶̶̵̷̵̵̸̴̶̵̴̵̵̶̵̸̴̷̸̴̷̷̷̶̶̴̷̸̴̴̴̷̷̶̷̷̷̴̷̸̷̶̴̷̴̶̵̵̸̷̴̶̸̵̵̵̵̸̴̷̶̸̸̷̵̶̴̷̴̴̸̶̸̵̷̶̸̸̷̸̸̷̵̶̸̸̴̴̶̶̴̶̵̸̷̸̴̷̷̶̷̵̴̸̶̸̶̶̵̸̴̶̶̷̸̵̸̶̸̸̵̵̸̶̷̶̴̷̷̶̸̷̷̴̸̸̷̵̵̸̸̸̷̸̵̶̵̷̶̴̴̸̵̵̶̴̵̵̷̷̷̸̸̵̴̵̴̵̶̵̶̴̴̶̶̵̶̴̵̷̸̸̷̴̴̴̸̴̴̵̶̶̷̵̷̴̴̴̶̵̸̴̷̷̶̵̷̸̷̶̷̶̸̵̶̶̴̶̸̶̵̷̴̸̶̴̶̴̶̶̴̷̶̴̶̶̶̴̶̴̴̸̷̶̴̶̵̸̵̴̸̸̵̴̵̶̶̶̸̸̶̴̸̶̸̷̶̴̸̶̵̵̵̷̶̴̷̴̶̸̸̶̴̷̴̵̵̴̷̵̵̵̶̵̴̴̶̴̷̴̶̵̶̶̵̵̴̴̷̷̴̵̷̷̶̷̸̵̵̶̴̶̴̶̶̷̷̷̶̵̴̶̸̵̴̵̸̵̸̷̸̶̵̵̶̷̶̶̸̷̴̵̵̶̶̸̷̴̵̷̷̵̴̵̷̵̸̴̵̸̶̶̸̴̶̴̴̸̸̴̴̴̸̶̸̵̴̶̴̸̸̸̷̴̷̸̷̵̵̷̵̸̷̷̶̸̸̴̶̶̵̶̵̶̷̶̷̸̸̷̴̷̸̸̵̷̷̶̸̴̶̵̷̶̷̸̴̷̴̸̷̴̴̵̸̴̴̶̴̸̶̵̶̸̵̵̵̷̵̶̶̸̸̶̴̷̴̸̴̴̸̶̷̴̷̵̶̸̴̷̴̶̶̸̴̡̢̢̡̨̢̧̨̧̨̨̧̧̨̢̡̢̢̡̧̢̢̨̡̧̡̧̢̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͔͓̪̹͈̮̘̻̟̼̪̰̝̯̞̺͚̫̩͈̤͚̼̝͍̩̲̱͙̜̬͎̮̱͈̟̣̜̮̮̩̘̞̩͓̬̜̘̺̞̠̞̩̪͕̺̣̝̰͙͕̱͍̤̙̮̤̬̭̙͕̭̤̼̳̹̥̙̻̮͖̙̣̩̬̺͙͕̰̪̥̝̮̺̟̥͍̹̳̲̣̘̟͚̙̪̖̫͍̬̬͈̟̖̱̰̗͎̜̰̗̝̼̟̥̦̭̩̳͔̺̳̺̤̘̦͓̞̗̩͓̖͇̼̥̟̞̜̪̳̺̥̥̜̦̜̙̰͉̥̝̤̫̻̯̳͍̘̲͈͔̬̲̲͎̹̳͖͎͖̮̰͈̲̲̯̖̟̠̞̠̯͍̼̝̱̩̯̝͔̫̱̳̻̬͔͎͙̫̬̯̙͙̫͉̟̠̯̬͓̜̟̠͎̗̙̱̥̭̪͖̣͍͍̩͖̪̭͇͚̻̠̫̫͙̰̝̖͖̞͔̩͙̖͙͈̼̳̭͓̝̮̣͍̤̫̮͙̩̙̬̼̼̙̠̰͖͔͖͔͉͉̣̗͚̝̱͇̠̭͈͔̥͎̳͇̹̞̰̙̯̻̠̱̻̘̱̩̫̈̅̑̑̉͆̓̈́̈͆̓̀̓̾́͑͒̋́̅̓̿̓̋̄̓͊̌̾̏͐͐͛̂̓̆̉̓̎̀̀̈́̄͛͑̑̒̈́͆́̒̈́͑̓͋͗̉̊͋̀̀̓̾̐͊͛̈̇͊̓̆̈́̋̑̃̓̓̀̈̀̾̈̂̆͛́̌́͐̂̓̈̆̆̈́͌̈́̊̈́̃̓̉́̀̈́̈́̇̈́̆̎̊͛̐͒̈̾͛́̇̃̒͂͛̂̐͛̑̍͗̐̽̂̍̑́́̿͐̌̆̇̌̊̉͋̑̽̆̀͆̍͂̑͗̂̉̅͒̅̃̍̀́̓̑̎̐̆̍͆̈́̀̋̀̿̆̾̔̎̄̓̈́̾͐̈͛͛̌̄͒̃̔̓͐̾̀̐̽̎́̂͊̇͑̐̾̽̏̿̌̍̔͒͛̄̃̍͒̉̀̈́͑̀̇̓̀̓̂͛̌̉̈́͋͒̐̽͐̽́̾̐͗͒͂͌̀͂͑̄̾̈́̍̓̏̿̈́́̌̍̈́̽̀̑̌̈̑̄̈̂̂̽̉̈́͊̌͋̎̀͛̂̂͊̈́̀̋̊̇̈̽̄́͑̈́͌̋̃̍̄͐͑̚͘͘̕͘̕̕͘͘̕̚̕̚̚͘͘̕͘̚̕͘͘̚͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͠͠͠͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅr̷̵̵̶̴̴̸̶̸̶̸̷̷̸̸̵̷̴̶̷̵̶̴̴̶̸̶̸̶̵̸̵̴̵̸̴̶̴̸̶̵̸̵̸̸̷̴̴̸̴̵̷̸̶̵̵̵̶̷̸̸̶̸̸̶̶̸̵̸̶̶̶̶̶̶̷̵̸̴̶̴̸̸̵̸̴̶̵̶̴̵̵̴̵̶̴̶̴̶̸̵̷̶̷̶̴̵̶̶̴̸̸̷̵̵̷̴̴̸̸̷̶̵̵̸̷̶̴̸̶̵̴̴̵̶̶̷̶̴̴̸̷̸̶̶̸̴̴̴̴̸̷̶̸̶̵̴̴̶̷̶̶̵̷̴̷̴̵̵̷̴̶̶̸̷̴̷̵̶̷̵̸̷̵̸̷̶̶̴̶̷̶̵̸̷̶̸̴̴̵̵̶̸̷̵̷̶̶̷̵̷̸̴̴̵̷̶̸̸̵̸̶̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̵̴̷̵̴̸̶̵̷̸̶̸̷̶̵̷̸̷̴̸̴̵̵̴̶̸̸̸̷̵̶̸̶̵̸̸̸̷̸̵̷̶̵̷̶̶̶̴̴̸̴̵̵̶̵̴̵̷̸̷̶̴̶̷̶̴̴̵̶̵̷̴̷̷̷̸̸̴̸̷̵̶̴̸̶̴̵̴̸̸̷̶̴̶̵̷̶̸̷̷̶̶̴̴̵̶̷̷̶̴̸̵̴̸̵̶̷̶̸̴̷̶̶̴̴̷̷̶̵̴̵̶̵̶̵̶̴̸̸̸̵̶̴̴̷̷̴̸̷̶̶̷̷̶̸̷̸̴̴̵̶̷̵̵̴̷̶̸̵̸̷̵̷̸̶̴̶̶̷̶̵̵̸̵̴̵̷̴̴̷̴̵̴̴̷̷̶̷̸̴̶̶̶̸̶̵̵̴̶̵̷̷̸̶̸̷̶̵̷̸̵̷̸̷̵̶̶̷̵̵̸̸̷̶̸̶̸̵̴̷̸̸̷̸̵̵̶̵̵̶̸̷̷̴̸̷̶̷̶̴̴̶̷̶̴̵̴̷̴̶̷̷̸̶̷̷̷̵̶̶̸̶̸̶̵̸̶̶̵̶̴̵̴̸̵̸̷̵̵̶̸̸̴̷̴̷̷̴̸̸̴̶̶̵̶̴̴̶̴̴̷̷̷̸̶̸̸̶̴̴̷̴̵̸̷̵̴̵̶̶̶̴̵̴̴̶̴̷̵̴̵̴̵̴̷̷̷̸̸̷̷̶̸̷̸̷̵̷̸̵̸̴̵̸̵̶̷̶̸̵̸̷̵̴̷̶̵̶̶̷̷̴̸̶̷̸̸̴̴̵̵̷̴̸̸̴̶̵̴̷̷̵̸̶̷̶̵̵̵̸̴̸̵̴̸̷̴̵̴̸̴̵̵̴̷̷̴̶̷̵̷̴̸̴̶̴̷̶̵̵̷̷̴̵̷̸̷̸̶̶̸̷̢̡̧̧̨̧̨̡̡̢̡̢̨̢̢̨̧̡̧̧̢̨̨̡̡̧̨̡̨̡̨̢̨̢̡̡̧̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̮͇͚̯̜̬̬͈͔̝̞̙̪̼̥̗̘͎̭͎̯̣̦̳̼̣̠͓̦̪͚̺̮̼̘̫̫̹̼̮̲̞̩̞̤̪̮̟͕̼̥̠͕̟̳̬̙̻͚̱̟̘̰̳̠͓̪̹̞̥̯̫͙͓͍̫͎̰̘͉̦͇̤͈̤̬͉̲̤̪̝̖͙̫̝͈̹̤̭̜͈̺̳̭͇̠̳͍̭͎̼̠̺̰̲̗̤̹̤͙̠̠̱͔͈͔̙͖̲͔̮̹͎̱̥̯͔͇̤͚̜̹̝̥͖̜̫͔͓̬̦̣̫͇͇͍̯͔̳͇̯̻͔̪̤̗̭͉̯͚̠̻̞̜̹͙̳̻̪͚̩̯̲̤̭̭͈̘̻̯̰̣͚͙̭͇̦̻̫͖͎͎̪̪̦̱̲̝͙̞̯̭̥͔̝̻̦͍̟̜̠̦̠̜̼̲̖̺̼̥͕͙̥͉̞͕̙͈̪͕͓͙͉̰̥̯̜̘̻̦͇͚̩͍͇̹̯̮̖̖͎̰͇̀̈̓̃̔͂̏́̊͗͋̿͊̈̀́̐̓͛̄͐̿̀͗̀̆̒̊́̿̅̒̂̅̈́͌̿͐͊͂͂̈́̽̑͊̈́̄̃̾̾̀̊̅͑̐̉̽͆̏̀͆̑̍̿̒̎̎̇͛̈́͒̇͗́͑̆̍̔͊̃̓̔̇̈̈͋̍̊̔̈́͊̀́̀̒̈́̽̈̇̀̌̏̏͆̅̄̏̓͌̆̔̉̅̌͊̔̽͗̀̇̈́̅̑̇̅̄̾̄̔̐̈̂̉̽̃̍̾͗̔̇͒͐̉͛͐̎̅͌̈́̇̆͐̍͒͂́͆̿̑̇̅̂̄̎̊͊̅̊̎͌́͊̈́̂̽̈́̈́̋̃̒̽̄̀̈́͑̀͂̎̉͋̃̅͋̌̾̌͂̍͛͌͑̌͛̎͂̾̓̄̄̔͆́̑̊͑͛̀̉̈̈͒̒͒̇̈́̉̋̿͛̑̓̀͛̇̍͋̏̈́̂͆̅̆́͗͑̔̓͌̎͗͛̀̏̂́̊̒̇́͗̈́̈́̓̄͛̂̚̚͘̚̕̕̕̚͘̕̚̚̚͘͘͘̚͘̕̚̕͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͠͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅ
-̷̡̨̡̧̡̮͙͍̫̳̤̦̙̦̗̝̙͎͙͇̟̟̺̟͈̩͕͔͐̐̓͋̀̏̈̆̍̃́̈́̿̇̐̈́̑̇̏̏͠͠͝-̶̢̛̥̤̩̥͓̻̥̖̟͚͚̥̟̤̲͈̘̦͌͂̄̔͆̒͂͋̏̈̅́̉̃́͛̂̆̒̊̄̌̑̿̒̋̈́̚͜͜ͅͅ-̵̨͍͔͕̩̗̙̣̞͇̻͍̰̳̤̱̹̺̙̺̼̘͉̱͖͕̺͇̹̳͌̑́̽̄̐̆́̂̅̋̿̾̐̊͛̏͜͝͠-̸̧̡̧̡̤̦̩̜̜̟̮͓̮̬̙͙̘͉̲̪͓̬͙͈͙̼̳̗̈́̿̐̇̈́͐̄͛͂͋̉̑̾̀̆͂̄̿̕̚͘͜͜ͅ-̸̢̡̨̛̛̥̟̦͍̟̬̦͍̳̮̈́̈́͗͛̃̇̎͐̂̔̓̑̍͆̋̄̎̐̍̈́͑̊̓̋́̚͝͝͝-̷̧̡̢̨̧̲̣̺̩̩͕̩̝̬̥̠̟̘̑̂̓̎͐̊̋̎̽̋̌͗͐̐̐͛̇̇͗̈͂̊͌̈́͘͘͝͠-̷̡̨̡̧̡̮͙͍̫̳̤̦̙̦̗̝̙͎͙͇̟̟̺̟͈̩͕͔͐̐̓͋̀̏̈̆̍̃́̈́̿̇̐̈́̑̇̏̏͠͠͝-̶̢̛̥̤̩̥͓̻̥̖̟͚͚̥̟̤̲͈̘̦͌͂̄̔͆̒͂͋̏̈̅́̉̃́͛̂̆̒̊̄̌̑̿̒̋̈́̚͜͜ͅͅ-̵̨͍͔͕̩̗̙̣̞͇̻͍̰̳̤̱̹̺̙̺̼̘͉̱͖͕̺͇̹̳͌̑́̽̄̐̆́̂̅̋̿̾̐̊͛̏͜͝͠-̸̧̡̧̡̤̦̩̜̜̟̮͓̮̬̙͙̘͉̲̪͓̬͙͈͙̼̳̗̈́̿̐̇̈́͐̄͛͂͋̉̑̾̀̆͂̄̿̕̚͘͜͜ͅ-̸̛̈́̈́͗͛̃̇̎͐̂̔̓̚–
My eyes tore themselves open as I threw myself upright, falling off the comfortable metal table and onto the floor in a heap. My body had begun to shake again, and i pushed myself into a sitting position and locked the joints to prevent rattling. Only then did I get a good look at my surroundings, the ugly cold concrete walls and floor a trememdous contrast to the world I had just left a moment ago.
But what had that been? It was so real, so real - every blade of grass had been genuine and physical. What was this terrible thing that had been cast at my head, if that was the culprit behind my hallucination beyond compare?
I had to know - but later. Something much more important had just occurred.
He was free.
2 Likes
I can now finally ping @NOTaHFfan to get his theorizing and reading done before I post any more. Sheesh, what a long wait this has been.
idk you’ll have to ask ghid
5 Likes
Negate
1 Like
Ah a new chapter! I wonder who Volume is… and who exactly got free…
rukah you are incredible
did you cut through the zalgo text in the last chapter
1 Like
oops I didn’t connect them
though now I know who “he” is.
there is a second zalgo in the latest chapter to help you
1 Like
yes. I have decoded it
1 Like
Man this AI guy is very entertaining, I sure do hope he doesn’t Randomly generate stories about Ghid’s world domination.
5 Likes
4 Likes
–
Chapter 13
–
It took a fair amount of time to realize exactly where I was. It was inside the police station, in a room where they apparently stored odds and ends. There was a rough metal table piled with clutter, and boxes of folders and stuff scattered about somewhat orderly, each with a different label. I noticed a somewhat larger box to my side which read ‘hooligan outsiders’. It was tipped over, and appeared as though I had fallen out of it.
A thought occurred, and looking about I saw a box labeled ‘suggestion chip prototypes.’ Seizing the edge of it, I dumped the contents all over the floor of the room, spreading the pile out with my hands until my eyes landed on a spherical silver device with a round cutout portion housing a lens. Holding this object in one hand, I turned my attention towards the box I had spilled from, and pulled out a leather bandolier - Diero’s.
Three of the bullets in the bandolier were marked, and one of these I pulled out and bent the casing of with my shoe. A greenish gas immediately seeped out from it , and I took extra care to direct it into the sphere I was holding lest it decide to enter some portion of my wooden frame.
“Where are we?” A voice spoke from the sphere, the camera inside it gaining a green glow in the middle of the lens. “It’s so dark here. Cold, empty. Being consciously aware of it is, it’s tangible. It is a tasted pain, not one felt.”
I sighed bitterly, trying not to empathize with the fiend. “When you have nothing else, you get used to it.” My tiny figure towered over the little ball nestled in my hands. “And you, Eilrach, have very little.”
“I understand all that.” The monster spoke in strange tones - were those undercurrents of remorse reverberating from his words? “I have been doing a lot of thinking in those bullets - inhabiting multiple places lets me speak with myself, only learned that in recent times. I have no place, no kingdom any more. By now my dominion has been forgotten in history, so far in the past that no mortal left alive contains the slightest memory of its legend.”
“Except me.”
“Yes,” The orb continued. “All except you. I doubt I will ever understand how you could be split so, and I meet you in sequence as I have. Did you… Wish to learn the story?”
“If you boot me out, you’ll likely never get out of this room.” I glared. “Don’t forget it.”
“I have moved beyond that now.” Eilrach replied. “A purpose is all I desire now, and one I shall find, perhaps through your enlightenment.” The green smoke from the sphere snaked up through the air into my eye sockets, and the whole world went dark.
Bold, were the rider! And bold, were his steed! Marching on through the mire, to the realm of the Lost!
The horse splashed the muddy water about on either side as it made top speed through the grime and sludge, bearing forth its host across this murky mire. When dry ground once more was reached, the rider dismounted from his equine escort and cast his eyes about, clothed in shining silver armor which remained spotless in spite of the journey.
He, crowned in majesty, was the King, the regal one, Wilhelmus the Lesser!
Aside him now stood, his legs coated up to the knees in grime, his height at four meters, his face yet hid behind a sheet of steel, the King’s keeper, Lord of the twisted forest, Ghidrius the Endless - named for his inability to be slain, as his armor was full of holes through the chest, a testament both to the poor quality of the suit as well as his continued survival. His eyes cast about suspiciously, with only his left eye being visible through the armor - that is, if you did not ascertain the two hidden behind decorative slots in the side, the pair of peepers affixed to the right side of his head, one above the other, the bleached bone-while skin hidden from the beholder.
Or perhaps the sight of the massive figure carrying what appeared to be a wardrobe on his back simply distracted from it.
“Your majesty, forgive me for yet again speaking out of line.” The King’s guardian spoke, not pausing to allow time for his majesty to actually permit him to speak thus. “Your people are on the verge of rebellion due to your fascination in the elimination of this monarch of the unliving, and their threats have ascended from secession to national revolt.”
“Summarize.” Wilhelmus the Lesser answered.
“You cannot abandon your people any longer.” Ghidrius coldly replied. “I can embark on this travesty in your stead. If this causeless quest is not ended soon, and you returned to your position and throne, your nation may-”
“My nation can eat worms and die.” Wilhelmus retorted, turning towards his emissary with a threatening air. “Ghidrius, I am not a fool of any caliber. The threat this monster, this Eilrach poses to not only my kingdom, but the entire world is not over-exaggerated in any capacity. I have spent the last six years locating the formidable fortress of this arch fiend, and my success here in securing his shattered skull and undoing the curse across our land with the ancient art passed down from my forefathers is of a greater importance than the comforts of a few measly peasant tramps licking the dirt off my garden walk as a sign of blind reverence.”
“Not blind, your majesty.” The sinister voice of Ghidrius calmly slithered out of his mouth, the giant bending down to address his master more efficiently. “With their humbled position, they see and hear everything from inside the palace grounds.”
“Then those same which complain are the first to know of the severity of this mission.” Wilhelmus curtly replied. “And so it must be seen to. The journey is almost over, and Ghidrius: My decision is final. I will not tolerate insubordination or dissent. Remember that.”
The giant said nothing else, returning to his fullest height with an air of contempt. The pair journeyed onward, off into the thick of the woods, the air around them growing green and sickly as I ripped my consciousness from the episode with a rattling snarl.
“Summarize.” I hissed.
“But the journey-”
“My time is precious.” I deadpanned. “Do not make me regret my freeing you.”
Wordlessly the green fog swirled back into my eyes, although this time the scene before me was far more realistic. I could feel the cold wetness of the bricks, coated with moss and muck, as the clash of steel sprayed sparks in every direction. The giant was here, clashing mightily with a foe slightly shorter but far fiercer than himself. While the keeper of the King swung in great, terrible movements, his fiendish foe spun with a flurry of ornamental robes and glowing golden touches, smashing his hefty weapons into the ancient blade of the colossus with enough force to stagger him over and over again.
“I MUST ADMIT,” The shorter foe gloated, now floating above his opponent with a wicked grin in his skeletal features. “I KNEW THE KING WAS A COWARD, BUT THAT HE WOULD FALTER AND FAIL AT THE MOMENT OF GLORY IS BEYOND AMUSEMENT!”
“Sire, this oaf begins to tire me.” Ghidrius replied, his collected voice masking how weary he was from the battle. “I am unsure if it his combat or his rhetoric which is the culprit, but my mind aches with his droning palaver all the same.”
“YOU SO CONDEMN THE WORDS OF EILRACH?!” The malignant monster growled, tossing aside his heavy axe and unveiling two wicked swords which hissed through the air as he drew them. “YOU ARE DEAD WHERE YOU STAND!!” The skeletal entity barreled through the air and skewered Ghidrius on the spot, grinning in satisfaction before Ghidrius slammed himself into the wall.
“Sire, please do not consider me obstinate,” Ghidrius sighed as Eilrach was forced to abandon his two blades or be crushed under the weight of his foe. “but I would not bank on my ability to occupy the attention of this fiend for too much longer.”
Seeing Ghidrius’ goal was not to defeat but simply preoccupy him, Eilrach roared into a fury, pummeling the colossus until he collapsed from the sheer number of lightning blows. “I WILL NOT BE FOUGHT IN UNFAIR COMBAT! YOU WILL NOT PLAY GAMES WITH ME.” Turning his glowing eyes on the unprotected King, he hissed “AND YOU. BRING ME YOUR BEST, OR I WILL CHOP YOU UP AND LEAVE YOU IN THE SUN TO ROT!!”
“And my best you shall receive.” Wilhelmus replied, the sword in his hands glowing with the fury of the sun. “The ritual of my forefathers is complete. Now, feel the sting of a thousand years of steel!”
The heavy blows from Eilrach’s weapons barely moved the blade in the hands of the King. With a roar he left through the air, plunging the weapon into the chest of Eilrach, as the corrupting green fumes around the entire land rushed back towards him and reentered his being. The eyes of the skeletal fiend went dark, and all was quiet.
“The seal.” Wilhelmus breathed, his heart slowing back down from the exertion. “It will be completed only behind the closing of the chamber. Ghidrius, the box.”
The lumbering figure hauled over the wardrobe he had carried on his back to where the figure lay. As Wilhelmus held it open, the giant laid the fearsome foe down inside, immobilized. The King retrieved the sword, and the box was closed.
“‘And the seal will break only when he who sealed it tastes the bitter cup of death.’ Well, now all that’s left is to dispose of this thing where he shall never escape again.” Wilhelmus returned his blade to its sheath and looked about the empty lair. “Do you think the bottom of the sea would be a fine place? Or would the fiend escape from even there?”
“It would be sufficient to crush him entirely, my lord.” Ghidrius said. “But I think of a place even better. There is a black pit in the far north which runs to the center of the world, so they say. Such a fathom could never be ascended by mortal or immortal. I shall take him there and dump him in, where he shall never climb back out.”
“No, I must go along as well.” Wilhelmus sighed, straightening his armor. “It will not bode well if the King returns home and the deed is not complete, nor if the King does not have the honor of destroying the fiend himself. It would sit ill with the people that I was not mighty in this regard, but the location sounds sufficient for our cause, and I will-”
The next second, the golden blade had been drawn from its sheath, and stabbed through the middle of the fine king. His breath choked as the large and sinister head of Ghidrius slowly crept over his shoulder. “I tried, your majesty. But you just couldn’t give up your precious quest and your superficial glory.”
“Ghidrius?” The reply was feeble and confused. "W-why?
“There was never a pit to the north.” The figure’s fingers slowly crept around Wilhelmus’ jaw with an unnerving clicking. “Believe me, your majesty, I tried every other option. Now be a dear and stay alive for a few moments longer.”
The sword was thrust in between two bricks in the wall, and Ghidrius, now with hands free, pulled a silver sliver from his armor and raised it in the air. “Taiepa Rukah!” He cried, and slammed the sliver into the ground, causing a crack through the air which eventually splintered open a hole in the air itself.
Wilhemus could barely crane his head around to see, but just enough to witness Ghidrius speaking to someone on the other side of the newly-formed hole. “I have your prize. But hurry, Volume, for the seal can last no longer.”
Eilrach’s memory of this event faded from view as I staggered back, running into the wall and shaking my head vigorously. The Eilrach smoke had dissipated entirely, and I cracked open a new bullet to fill his robotic host. We both said nothing for a while, and after several attempts to speak I forced out a question.
“Do you regret?”
The orb didn’t answer. I picked it up, and the door flew open with enough violence to knock me back just by the motion. The figure above me looked around, and his green eyes lighted on my tiny figure.
“Ah, I thought you were a robot or something.” The figure shrugged, scratching his head. “Well, come on. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but Volume has spoken for the first time in eight months - and he wants to see you.”
–
5 Likes
2 Likes
ah cool a new chapter.
also I was a silver sliver.
1 Like
gosh I want to keep writing
but I miss my theoriser 
4 Likes