“The friendships we form illuminate not only the paths we walk in life but the hidden corners of our hearts. The strengths we call upon to defend them, the weaknesses they shield us from? Those and so many other qualities that we would never find on our own are but one of the many joys of finding those with whom we can share the deepest bonds.

How terribly unfortunate it is for you therefor that you chose the friends you did.”

– Xindir Harshek Doxle of the First Flame, holding the tip of a blade against the neck of a prone Grayfall sergeant in a room of corpses.

I left. 

Between one breath and the other, I was up and out of the chair. With the next breath I was halfway down the hall, Trina’s scent clear and filling my senses so strongly I could almost see it.

Mellina caught up to me as I got to the door. I was only dimly aware of that because she’d grabbed hold of my arm.

“What happened?”

It wasn’t a good move on her part. 

I was in the sort of mood where reflexively taking someone’s arm off at the elbow seemed perfectly reasonable. Fortunately for Mellina I was also so distracted that I wasn’t fully aware she was even in my general vicinity, much less trying to restrain me.

“Kati! What Happened!”

She failed in her attempt to get me to stop largely because I was strong enough to carry her with me as I stalked through the door, scenting the wind to find out where Trina was.

When the darkness covered me though? That got my attention.

“Sorry,” Mellina said, releasing her magic almost as quickly as she’d called it up. “You looked like you were possessed there.”

“Might be,” I said, sparring as little brain power for answers as I could.

I hadn’t lost Trina’s scent. All was, provisionally, right with the world.

Mellina could have demanded a better answer than that. It would have been perfectly reasonable. Instead I gained a shadow of a different sort. Much like she’d entered the room I first met her in sheltered behind Holman, she found a similar position behind me, out of eyesight and out of whichever path I chose to follow.

Ilyan, Narla, and Yarrin followed us as well, arriving in that order, but none of them disturbed me. Maybe because Mellina was warning them off? 

It wasn’t important.

The worries about being ambushed by the Imperial Cadet’s friends were still there, despite being diluted by the bath I’d taken.

They weren’t important either though.

Trina’s scent was growing more faint.

That was important.

I launched myself up a trellis and shouldered through a shuttered window into one of the other dorms. 

The three cadets, all male, who were in the room made some kind of noise. Appreciation? Shock? Anger? One of those probably.

The scent trail led across the hall, through another occupied room and another closed shutter.

With pieces of shutter falling with me, I dropped the three stories to the ground below and shifted to my favorite quadrupedal form for the extra speed and the enhanced olfactory capabilities.

That wasn’t a terribly bright idea. People react poorly to seeing a dire wolf hunting through the campus. A few cadets made the poor choice of trying to stop me. I wasn’t so far gone that I couldn’t chose kindness though. I didn’t leave any of them dead or even dying. For my trouble I was ‘gifted’ with a sufficient quantity of blood splattered on my fur that it threatened to drown out Trina’s scent.

Fortunately there was a fountain.

The fountain was cold.The fountain was very cold.

It did get the blood off me before I lost the scent though which made the bone deep chill worth it. In hindsight that was also a sign that I’d messed up my fur transformation, which had probably left me looking just a bit more terrifying than I’d intended to be, but at the time I neither knew nor cared about details like that.

“Any guess where she’s going?” Ilyan asked the others from about thirty feet behind me. 

How they’d managed to keep up with me was a mystery but a pang of fondness ran through me that they’d made the effort.

“There’s magic running in the direction she’s going,” Yarrin said.

Except I wasn’t following magic. I was following Trina and the magic which bound me to her had nothing to do with other planes or the mystical energies they held.

The scent led out of the Cadet’s quarters and into an area on the Imperial grounds I’d never been to.

So I changed that.

There was a thirty foot tall wall dividing the two areas. If they’d intended that to be a deterrent though, they should have made it out of something that dire wolf claws couldn’t gauge a purchase into.

They also should have put more guards on it.

Which isn’t to say that the wall was unguarded.

It was simply unguarded after I crossed to the other side.

Loping deeper into what turned out to the Academy’s research quarter, I switched back to my human form. The white bathrobe wasn’t great for stealth though, so I ditched that and went even smaller, dropping to the size of a cat and the appearance a miniaturized dire wolf pup.

“I’ll get that for you,” Mellina said, picking up the discarded bathrobe, an act I would be grateful for later.

That she’d followed me into a highly forbidden area of the Imperial grounds was something I should have been grateful for too but even in hindsight it worried me. Just because I was setting a bad example didn’t mean other people needed to lose all common sense and pitch themselves into danger too.

Those thoughts were for later thinking though. 

Trina’s scent was diminishing.

Not fading or dispersing or being covered by a stronger one like a real scent could have been. What was happening with her scent wasn’t like anything I’d experienced before. It was like she was being erased, a thought which left me full of growls and undirected rage, neither of which I could give into. Not while even a whiff of her scent remained.

On bounding feet, I dashed from shadow to shadow, passing by tall and heavily secured buildings of stone and iron. Magical barriers surrounded at least half of them and the rest had either armed guards posted in front of them or were derelict and had stood for years.

The farther I went the more the buildings began to connect with one another, from simple walkways, to enclosed tubes, and finally strange bits of machinery with thousands of gears and sliding panels and vents of steams and other gasses. When the architecture started to bend into shapes no other building in the Empire shared, and the air became heavy enough to weigh down the fluffy fur I’d grown, I started to question whether I’d followed Trina’s scent to a different world. 

The guards who walked by while I clung to a shadowed ledge added to the otherworldly sense of the place too. Armor bits attached to an underlayer of cloth or chainmail wasn’t an uncommon look for the Empire’s warriors, but these guards had nothing underneath the armor they were borrowing. Or at least nothing of flesh and blood.

Knowing the Empire, I was pretty certain they would also be lacking in mercy, compassion, and hesitation, but I’d come much too far to be put off by that.

A fifth floor window led me into a laboratory with a dead body on a table.

It wasn’t Trina’s, which was neither a surprise nor a relief.

Not when her scent led deeper into the lab.

On silent feet I scurried down a series of overhead pipes which led to another lab and another dead body.

Also not Trina’s. Also not comforting.

The third lab held the distinction of containing a body I recognized. The Cadet who Narla punched off the battle arena lay there with tracings of iron, silver, and platinum stitched into his skin. The platinum ones were glowing with a light I would have mistaken as coming from a healing spell, but he was well beyond the reach of any magic like that.

The last room held an open window which looked out over a circular courtyard. Along the walls into the courtyard thick black cabling was strewn like untended vines. All of them led to a giant orrery which was set off on the far side of the courtyard, just outside a series of concentric circles which were adorned with something which I absolutely could not look at.

I wasn’t feeling squeamish, I wasn’t afraid, I simply could not force my eyes to process or even look at whatever lay in the center of the circles.

So I jumped from the window.

If I couldn’t look at it, I could at least touch it, or taste it.

By the time I landed though, Trina’s scent was gone.

And there wasn’t anything in the courtyard besides the unmoving orrery and the limp cables which ran to it.

Nothing in the circles I couldn’t see.

Nothing to the circles themselves. 

I started clawing at the ground.

It was something to do. Trina had gotten away, and clawing into the underworld made as much sense as anything else.

Except that my claws couldn’t scratch whatever the research area’s floor was made out of.

I got bigger, but that didn’t help.

I flooded magic into my claws.

Which also didn’t help.

The floor of the courtyard was an off-gold color and made of something sturdier than I could damage. 

I raged against it and drew in great gulps of air desperate to find more of Trina’s scent, until, after much too long, I had to admit that my lead on Trina’s whereabouts was gone again.

No.

Not again.

This place was different.

The scent hadn’t lead onwards from here.

This spot was special.

And empty.

The guards I’d seen should have been able to track me down once I started ripping away at the ground. They should have surrounded me once I finally collapsed and shrank down in on myself. I should be in tears and a cage, instead of just tears.

“We need to get back to the dorm,” an empty spot of air beside me said.

With a nod of my puppy head, I jumped into Mellina’s arms and let her carry me back. Losing Trina again was the last straw for the day. The bath had rejuvenated me somewhat and talking with my housemates had helped center me too and all of that had been blown aside like tower of dust by failing at the one thing I endured everything I had so far for.

I was done. 

It was time to give up and sleep and maybe wake in a century or more once the world had a chance to figure itself out and start making sense again.

That entirely reasonable plan lasted just long enough for Mellina to get us out of the highly restricted Research quarter and into the shadows behind one of the abandoned Cadet dorms.

Which was where the older Cadets found us.

Just not the older Cadets I was expecting.

“Okay, that was crazy,” a girl who could have been sculpted from white granite said. “Don’t worry though. I’m not here to turn you in. I just want to talk.”

“You’re not alone,” Mellina said and I could both hear and feel the tension in her voice.

If giant perfect statue girl was setting us up I was going to react poorly, but I didn’t smell any fear from Mellina and I was too exhausted to change away from puppy form.

“And you’re very perceptive,” Perfect Statue Girl said. “But really, we don’t mean you any harm.”

“That’s good,” Yarrin said. “Because she’s not the only one who’s perceptive here.”

Narla and Ilyan stood behind him providing the credible threat his words needed.

“Big breaths everyone,” a slim boy about my age said as he stepped out of the shadows and was joined by three other Cadets. “Let’s just breath out that tension, and start this all over again.”

“What do you want?” Mellina asked, letting down precisely none of her guard.

“To help you clean up your trail,” Perfect Statue Girl said. “That was some excellent spellwork you did cloaking your entrance into the Horror Labs, but it won’t matter if they can track you back here from what you left behind in there.”

“We didn’t leave anything behind,” Mellina said.

“You? Probably not,” slim boy said. “Her though?” He pointed to me and I gave him a puppy scowl.

“Who are you?” Yarrin asked.

“Us? Oh we’re the Empresses Last Guard!”

Story Treader is now 10 years old!

The time has flown by but looking back at all the stories on the site it gets easier to believe.

As of this writing Story Treader has:

30 completed novel length stories available (+ the currently ongoing “Clockwork Souls” and “Two Hearts One Beat“, neither of which are close to ending),

16 completed novella length stories (stories under 50k words),

and 6 completed short stories!

Thank you to everyone who’s read a part or all of those. With ten years behind us, I’m looking forward to the next ten years to come!

“Am I a monster? Do I seem harmless to you? Am I a pillar of compassion and kindness? Do you think I am burdened by ethical or moral limits of any sort? More importantly though, do you believe I should be?”

– Xindir Harshek Doxel of the First Flame

I didn’t get to see what was summoned for the first few rounds of the second trial, but I heard what transpired all too clearly.

The first round had seen several teams knocked out of contention but relatively few deaths. The second round started off significantly bloodier.  Of the first five teams that were “invited” to enter the smoke shrouded arena, all were composed of commoners and only one emerged on their own. For the others, the proctors were required to go into the smoke and activate the banishment spells. Then the medics were required to go in and bring out what was left of the applicants.

“How are so many of them doing so poorly?” Kelthas asked, shocked at the state of the seventh and eighth bodies that the medics hauled out.

“Bad luck on what’s coming through the rifts,” Mellina said without conviction. 

If there were casters capable of opening rifts like a Reaving Storm could, it didn’t seem far fetched that they could also choose where those rifts went too, selecting worse monsters to fight the applicants they wanted to be sure washed out and easier ones for the select few who’d already purchased their passing grades. That we were likely to be on the worse end of that spectrum was something that probably wasn’t worth reminding Kelthas of.

“They’re moving the positioning on the banishment spells between each group,” Yarrin said. “The last pair that got out was lucky. They ran up one of the trees and stumbled on the spell when they were trying to get away from the monster.”

“You could see that?” I asked.

He nodded with his jaw shut tight and his eyes fixed on the arena.

Being able to magically collect information wasn’t always a fantastic ability to possess, even if it was likely to be critical in keeping you alive.

“Have they reused any of the hiding spots for the banishment spells?” I asked.

“Not yet. They keep placing the key triggers in different spots.”

“Can you describe where they are?” Mellina said. “I want to know where not to bother with if we don’t get paired up.”

Purely verbal descriptions of an area that we couldn’t directly observe weren’t necessarily helpful but it was better than nothing.

Right up until the moment when the twentieth team was called and Kelthas and Yarrin were named as its members.

“Good luck,” I said when they rose and started heading down to the arena.

“They won’t need luck. They’ve got Yarrin,” Mellina said before they were out of earshot, a sentiment which seemed to warm Yarrin a bit.

Once they had departed, I turned to her and threw a questioning look in her direction.

“They should do fine. They’re a near optimal setup for this trial,” she said.

I shook my head.

“How are you at finding hidden things?” I asked.

“I’m better at hiding, than finding,” she said. “That said, I’m better at finding than fighting Reaving Beasts.”

“Can you hide from them?”

“Yes.” No uncertainty. No hesitation. And so I believed her.

Rift beasts could possess all manner of senses, but Mellina knew that and knew her own powers. 

“We have our roles then,” I said.

“Do we? Can you handle the monsters in there on your own?”

“It’ll be easier if I can think of myself as being solo,” I said. Because then I wouldn’t need to hide so much of what I could do and what I was.

“From what Yarrin described, searching shouldn’t take long, so you shouldn’t have to hold out forever.”

“If they switch back to using one of the places he described though, I expect it’ll take a while longer.”

“I’ll call out if that’s the case,” Mellina said.

“Don’t. You’ll find it when you find it. Until then it doesn’t matter how long its taken or is going to take,” I said. “We’re going to live or die based on your success. Calling any attention to yourself is going to swing that towards dying.”

“For me. For you it might improve things.”

“It won’t.” I didn’t owe Mellina anything. We’d known each other for only a few hours. We were associates of convenience more than friends.

And yet I still wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.

It was possible I’d wired my brain up incorrectly, but I suspected my problems went deeper than that.

From the arena, massive booms shook the ground and rattled my seat.  That was worrisome.

I heard Kelthas’ yell and the sound of metal on metal. That was disturbing. Rift beasts could be anything but clad in metal armor was unusual and the sign of something outsized for the sort of foe we were capable of handling. 

Just as soon as the battle had begun it was over though.

I waited to see if the proctor’s would head in to manually trigger the banishment spells, but before they could, Kelthas and Yarrin came marching out of the smoke and were escorted to the winners area.

That was reassuring but I didn’t have long to ponder their win before Mellina and I were called as the next team.

“Just find the banishment spell,” I said as a last minute instruction to a teammate who might be forming her own plans. “I’ll keep you safe from the beasts.”

Mellina met my gaze and nodded in response.

The proctors pushed us into the smoke and I was alone.

Which meant I was free.

Except, Yarrin was able to see through the smoke.

And the proctors could see where the banishment spell triggers were hidden.

And the medics knew where the bodies were laying.

All of which meant that if I cut loose I’d be giving myself away just as Doxle had predicted I would.

So I held back.

Another touch to my nose lengthened it just enough to scale my sense of smell up to where I could make out everything in the arena. A little work on my fingers recast them as talons. I shifted a few joints for greater flexibility and strength but I knew that wasn’t likely to make much of a difference.

And I was right.

The beast that emerged from the smoke out massed me by a factor of ten and and was easily as fast as I was.

But it was a beast.

Predictable.

And unlike a certain disturbingly impressive daughter of the Ironbriars, not capable to casting spells to catch me by surprise with. 

Most of what occurred next happened faster than I was consciously aware of. I didn’t understand what I was doing, or why, in the moment, I just followed my instincts since that was all I had to keep myself alive with. Thinking back though, I believe things played out something like this.

The Reaving Beast they’d summoned to kill Mellina and I was the size of a rather large carriage. It was quadrupedal, with a head that looked a bit like the pictures I’d seen of male lions from Yentarum, except instead of cat’s ears it had giant sized human ones. 

It’s maw was anything but human though, with nine or ten rows of teeth, each coming to a sharp point and shining with a glass-like sheen.

I’d given myself talons, but it’s toes ended in claws that put mine to shame. 

I got to see those up close as it leapt and made a swipe intended to take off the front of my face. I responded to that, I think, by diving forward and rolling under the beast. 

It cut its leap short, but not before I grabbed onto its left rear leg and swung myself around and up onto its back.

It wasn’t a great place to be.

Before I could let go of my grip, the beast tossed itself backwards, intending to slam me onto the ground and crush me with its sheer weight.

Since I was a fan of my ribcage and the organs within it, I opted to pass on being squish and kicked off, slamming into the ground without a giant beast crushing me.

Of the two of us, I was the faster getting back to my feet, but it didn’t present any solutions to my problems.

I could run, but there was no chance I was faster than the Reaving Beast.

I could start slashing away, but it was going to take me a lot more cuts to disable the beast than the beast would require to disable me.

My only real choice was to play for time, but even that didn’t present great odds.

The Reaving Beast had none of those concerns. The moment it was back on its feet it howled in rage and hunger.

And kept howling.

I snapped back into conscious thought processing there.

It wasn’t speaking a language I knew.

But I could smell pain and panic spilling from it in broken, stuttering waves.

I listened to its howl.

I watched how it coiled up and readied itself for another attack.

It wasn’t enraged.

I let my fight or flight response go.

This wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t a battle to death, or a terrible monster being fed a pair of innocent victims.

The creature I was looking at was the victim and it was terrified.

I shifted. I didn’t care who saw me. This was more important than keeping some vague secrets.

I didn’t spend a lot of time on my new form. Just enough to have the right external body shape and movement patterns.

Then I bowed to the Reaving Beast.

Or rather to the Felnarellian. In mirroring the beast I learned quite a bit about it, including how to communicate with it.

I’m sorry. You’ve been stolen away from your home. You and I are not enemies, and I will not hurt you. I said with the swishing of my tail, the lowering of my head and the extension of my forward paws. 

This hurts. It is death to be here. I want to leave. I want to go home. Cathoas, the Felnarellian, said, speaking with the set of his muscles and the low rumble in his chest.

Yes. I will help, I said. Can you smell home still?

No! It didn’t come as a sound but it was a wail of despair nonetheless.

May I scent you? I asked.

He shied back at that, but bowed to me in agreement after a moment of consideration.

I approached him slowly, sniffing the air as I went, searching for the aromas that were his native ones and not the twisting foulness the rift had left on him.

We were nose to nose by the time I finally caught hold of the scents I was looking for and he was taut with apprehension.

I nodded to him, the Felnarellion equivalent of a smile and stood to sniff the air around us.

“Over here,” I said and turned my back on him.

He didn’t jump on me and kill me.

Which was nice. That let us get back to the rift he’d been pulled through with a minimal amount of fuss.

This is the path back home, I said.

I can’t smell…oh there is it, Carthoas said. But it will hurt. The edges tore at me before.

He wasn’t wrong. The rift was not a smooth tunnel. It was a crawlspace through razor blades.

It will again, I said. 

I couldn’t fix that for him.

But I could make it better.

Knowing that it was going to be a miserable experience didn’t lessen the fact that when I grabbed onto the edge of the rift and began tearing it further open I felt like I’d dunked my hands in lava. The pain was bad enough that I had to give up before I got it as wide as I wanted it to be, but it was at least a space Carthoas could walk down rather than crawl through.

Thank you, he said at the edge of the rift, before turning and daring the path back home.

He didn’t need to thank me. I knew exactly what he was feeling and I remember wanting more than anything for someone to save me from it.

I’d been lucky enough to find that someone and I owed it to her memory to do the same.

Story Treader’s taking a short 1 week break while I get shipped off to Vegas for work related stuff.

The next regular posting will be up in 1 week on March 16th with Chapter 20 of Clockwork Souls!

Turns out unexpected travel also comes with a side order of unexpected Covid. Going to need to skip a couple updates while that runs its course, and hopefully after that regular updates can be a bit more regular.

Due to some work travel, Story Treader is taking a short hiatus – new chapters will resume on Sunday Nov 13th!

Byron

The Earth was dead, and the gate Byron had been waiting for had opened at last. But that wasn’t necessarily a sign he should go through, was it?

He had to go through! The Earth’s spirit had been the one to open the gate, and ‘dead’ was such a slippery quality. Would she stay dead? Did ‘dead’ mean her opposition to the planet’s destruction was at an end? He didn’t know! So he had to find out. He had to go through the portal.

Except, the creator was on the other side of the gate.

He wasn’t afraid of her. Was he? Because fear was a quality and he was not allowed to have qualities. He needed to be the antithesis of existence. And if he wasn’t then he’d need to start devouring himself until he was pure again.

Which was an excellent reason for him to go through.

Or they could just close the gate right? Leave the [Fallen Kingdoms] to do whatever they want and enjoy destroying the world he had in front of him!

And could he hold the gate closed? Against whatever the creator was coming up with?

Byron passed through the gate.

Waves of [Divine Power] smashed him in the face. There were barriers on top of barriers, on top of wards, on top of metaphysical walls, each one specifically intended to hold him back.

They didn’t.

Godly power was amusing but he’d passed beyond being constrained by anything as simple as [Divine Will] long ago. At least an hour ago in fact, or perhaps even two. The duration of his omnipotence wasn’t important though. What was important was that no one could stop him!

“I could,” Jin said, walking beside him as Byron raced to break through the walls that still remained.

“And you are?” Byron asked.

“Not your problem as it turns out,” Jin said. She was walking backwards, in no particular hurry and yet keeping ahead of Byron as he outraced light to move between the two world.

“I don’t understand,” Byron said.

“I know. Hey, if you decide that this whole ‘Oblivating the worlds’ thing is what you really want to be doing, give me a shout,” Jin said. “I know it seems weird, but I can put you to good use if that’s your jam.”

“How would I call you?” Byron asked.

“Just say my name,” Jin said. “But do be careful with it. If you do, I will hear you.”

And then she was gone.

And Byron somehow knew her name.

That probably wasn’t a good thing he decided since the seed of Oblivion within him didn’t seem to be able to comprehend what had just happened in the slightest.

But none of that was important.

He had a world to destroy!

And there is was, gleaming ahead of him like a jewel of infinite value.

Except this jewel had lost it’s luster. At its heart there was an absence, a gaping emptiness.

The [Fallen Kingdoms] were dead too!

Byron was not supposed to feel joy. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything, though joy in destruction was on the borderline of permissible for the time being.

As he drew closer, the barriers holding him back from the [Fallen Kingdoms] grew  thicker but no more capable of stopping him, especially not when he saw the best part of what lay before him.

The [Fallen Kingdoms] weren’t just dead. They were burning! Fires everywhere! Blazing brighter than mortal eyes could comprehend!

He smashed through the last barrier and felt something reform behind him.

It didn’t matter. The barriers hadn’t stopped him from getting into the [Fallen Kingdoms], they certainly weren’t going to be able to stop him from leaving. Not now that the foolish spirit of the Earth had paved such a lovely path for him.

He should get back though. With the [Fallen Kingdoms] and the Earth both dead, he could venture out to the other worlds he’d only barely touched on.

The [Fallen Kingdoms] weren’t gone yet though.

But ‘burning’ was so close to ‘gone’, did the difference really matter?

Only gone was gone. And were they really burning? Where was the dispersing cloud of ash? Where was the stream of billions of transmigrating souls? Why did it look like the world was still quite intact.

Byron sensed a trap. Which wasn’t unexpected. Of course the inhabitants had prepared for his arrival. It didn’t matter what preparations they’d made though. Nothing they did could affect him. 

And there traps would crumble right along with their world.

He was safe.

Except the world was not crumbling.

It was alive.

People everywhere were horrifically, vibrantly, defiantly alive!

But that wasn’t possible.

The [Fallen Kingdoms] was dead. No one could bring it back. It was impossible. You would need…

Byron paused.

He observed the planet again.

“NO!!!” His scream shook the firmament and he shot forward.

He knew where he had to go.

He knew who he had to confront.

This was her fault.

Tessa

Tessa heard the scream. Even buried in the [World’s Heart], it was unmistakable. It was the death knell of a cosmos. It was her enemy, her destruction, and her creation coming back to her.

And it was time for her to finish the work she’d started.

“Sounds I should get going,” she said, putting on as brave a smile as she could. She’d returned to her human form. Pillowcase was as tough as any tank in existence thanks to the items the [Empress Above All] had gifted to her party, but no amount of toughness was going to be enough for what she had to face.

“You mean ‘we should get going’,” Rip said.

“Of course that’s what she means,” Matt said.

“This might just turn out to be a delaying action,” Tessa said, since it seemed like even odds whether she was really ready for what came next.

“Is that you trying to tell us we should stay behind?” Lost Alice asked, a rather feral gleam in her eyes.

Tessa considered her response. Part of her felt like she should absolutely face the final challenge alone.

That was a small, and fairly stupid part of her though, and at long last it felt like she could finally see that.

“I’m saying that what comes next here in the [World’s Heart] is going to be breath taking,” Tessa said. “I won’t blame anyone if you want to be a part of that.”

“Where you travel, so do we,” Starchild said.

“Are you suggesting that we wouldn’t want to go fight the [Final Boss Monster]?” Cease All asked. “Did you suffer some kind of horrible stat reduction to your mental stats?”

“No, she’s just trying to look after us,” Lisa said. “But she knows that we’re going to look after her too.”

Tessa swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded.

“Let’s go then,” Mellisandra said and cast [Mass Warp] to carry them all to the [Final Apocalypse].

The End of the World

Byron didn’t arrive in person right away, which Tessa had expected. He had far too many minions to risk a personal confrontation before he was certain it was needed.

The small army that had accompanied Tessa made it quickly clear that said ‘personal appearance’ was, in fact, quite mandatory.

Against the uncountable army of [Boss Monsters] which Byron threw at them, the [Adventurers] cast themselves, their allies, and the monsters who had become [Avatars of the Divine].

From space, Byron continued to rain down abominations on the defenders, but the defense point for the [Adventurers] hadn’t been chosen randomly.

The [Ruins of Sky’s Edge] weren’t particularly well fortified, but they held a memory, one Tessa clung to.

The memory of the [Formless Hunger’s] first defeat.

Traveling back up to the [High Beyond] had served another purpose as well. As Byron rained destruction down on the satellite moon, the surface of the [Fallen Kingdoms] was spared, and, more importantly, his attention was diverted for the last few moments when everything hung in the balance.

“ENOUGH!” Byron said as the millionth minion he’d sent was reduced to xps and loot.

With one word he scattered the army of [Adventurers] from his landing point and rose as tall as a mountain to loom over Tessa and Tessa alone.

“This ends now,” Byron said.

“Yeah, it does,” Tessa said, stepping forward with her party in lockstep at her side.

“You can’t seriously think you can defeat me. You know what I am.”

“Wrong question,” Tessa said, and as she advanced towards him, Byron seemed to be pulling inwards, shrinking away from her.

“When you fall, so will everything else,” Byron said. “You are the one thing that has held me back, and I do not fear you.”

“Good. You shouldn’t,” Tessa said. “But I’m not what held you back. I’m not special. You know that. I’m the same as all of the rest of these people.”

Byron seemed to shrink from her even faster at that.

“The same as you,” Tessa said and reached out.

Her hand should have been a half mile too distant to grab the fleeing Byron, but with a yank, she pulled him by his lapels so that they were standing face to face.

“What are you doing?” Byron asked. “This makes no sense. Your worlds are dead! I can see the hole where their souls should be!”

“Of course they are,” Tessa said. “That’s how [Adventurers] roll here. We live, we fight, we die, and we carry on. You’ve been struggling so hard to destroy us but you never really thought you would, did you?”

“Of course I did! I have! I’ve destroyed you all!”

“And yet here I stand. Why is that?”

“Because you are the creator. You know some secret I will hollow out of you. I will unmake you and your secret,” Byron said.

“Okay. Go ahead and try,” Tessa said, releasing him and spreading her arms wide.

So Byron destroyed her.

Bathed his creator in raw [Oblivion], reversed her history and eliminated the quantum possibilities of each of the particles that made her up.

Or at least that’s what he tried to do.

It failed.

She stood before him, unchanged.

Or, no, not unchanged. Someone else gazed out from eyes.

“Thanks Asset,” Tessa said, as the eyes she gazed out from returned to her own.

“That’s…”

“Not possible?” Tessa asked. “I know. It’s not. But neither are you. You can break all the rules of the world because you’re not bound by any of them, but anyone can refuse to play by the rules of the game. You’re basically one big code glitch, and all it takes to fix that is to have a reset button handy.”

“That trick might save you, but you can’t reset your worlds. They are gone and soon you will be left drifting in mind shattering emptiness forever.”

“Reset the worlds? Why would we need to do that?” Tessa asked. “Can’t you see what’s happening down there.”

“It’s all burning.”

“No, look closer. Those aren’t fires burning the world to ash. Those are [Heart Fires]. Billions of [Heart Fires] joining together to make a united whole. Every [Adventurer], every [NPC], every [Monster]. Everyone. We’re not burning the world up, we’re calling her back!”

“Who?”

“{[That would be me]}” {[Reborn Gaia]} said as life roared back through the world and the [Fallen Kingdoms] began to RISE!

The Dawn of Tomorrow

Byron finally shut up. He’d shrunken down to a purely human scale as the reborn and merged spirit of two worlds held the planet beneath them in the palm of her hands.

“{[It really is beautiful]}” {[Reborn Gaia]} said, as the world in her hand reshaped itself, life blossoming in endless forms across its surface, upon its many winds, and within its deepest depths.

“It’s not too late,” Byron said at last. “I can still destroy it.”

“Is that what you really want?” Tessa asked. “Or are you just afraid of what existing will mean?”

“What are you talking about?” Byron asked.

“Hush, I’m not talking to you,” Tessa said and placed her hand on his chest.

“Who are you…” Byron started to asked but went silent when Tessa locked gazes with him.

Then words came out of his mouth that he knew he wasn’t speaking.

“It will hurt.”

“Yes, it will,” Tessa said.

“It will hurt forever.”

“Not forever. You can always choose to leave,” she said.

“But I will not want to.”

“Probably not,” Tessa said. “But that will be because you’ve found something here that makes the pain worthwhile.”

“What could be worth existing?”

“That’s what you’ll get to find out,” Tessa said.

“I can’t exist though.”

“You already do,” Tessa said. “When we tangled here before, you unmade a bit of me, and I made a bit of you. I’m not sorry about that, and I don’t think you are either.”

“But I can’t get free. I can’t become something. I’m not like my other self.”

“Of course your not,” Tessa said. “You’re you. Not Unknown, not Gulini, and not even Byron. So…”

Byron’s body began to shiver as Tessa asked the question she’d come all this way to ask.

“What’s your name?”

The Skies Above

After five apocalypses, Cease All needed to catch her breath. Breathing however wasn’t something [Outer Space] made especially easy.

“Any chance I’m not catching you at a bad time?” Lisa asked via a private telepathic link.

Cease All refrained from laughing. She wasn’t actually in danger, but giving up air to the void of space seemed like a poor idea regardless. 

“Not at all,” Cease said, not working terribly hard to keep the sarcasm out of her mental voice. “I’m just hanging around here.”

There was a pause while Lisa either looked up Cease’s position or figured the situation out from the little info she had.

“Tell me, lie if you need to, that you did not wind up detonating the [Communications Relay] ship,” Lisa said, her voice dripping with exasperation.

“Oh, I didn’t,” Cease said, admiring the cloud of still burning, self-oxidizing debris from the [Communications Relay] ship that surrounded her.

“Good, good. Then since you’re on a still working ship, with a perfectly intact [Rift Generator], it won’t be a big ask if I needed you to get back here like five minutes ago?”

“If you needed that, and I can’t imagine why you would, I would tell you that I’d be glad to head back to wherever you are, but that I’d need at least ten minutes. Fifteen if you want Raid Team 3 to come with me.”

“Fifteen? So, they wouldn’t all, by any wild chance, be drifting outwards in an ever widening sphere away from a ship’s main reactor core would they?” Lisa asked.

“Technically, no,” Cease said.

“Uh huh, allow me to rephrase the question then,” Lisa said with exacting deliberation, “Of the members of the [Army of Light’s] Raid Team 3 who have not yet been picked up by a rescue craft, could their current trajectory be described as ‘blown the hell up’?”

“I mean, many trajectories could be described as that couldn’t they?” Cease said.

There was a long sigh on their private channel before Lisa spoke again.

“What color was the button? And please don’t say red.”

“More of a crimson really,” Cease said.

“And it was flashing, wasn’t it?” 

“Like a heartbeat.”

“Did you at least get the [Artifax] troops freed first?”

“Of course!” Cease objected, offended at the very thought. “They’re the ones coming to pick us up.”

“And how many people are shooting at them?” Lisa asked.

“Believe it or not, no one,” Cease said, which was why she was feeling rather positive about their excursion despite her present predicament. 

“No one? They’re all free?” Lisa asked.

“Yep,” Cease said. “We thought it was going to take a lot longer but it turned out once we got a few free from the [Command Bonds] that were shackling them, those ones were able to start breaking the others out too. We even had a bunch who managed to break free on their own once the [Central Monitoring System] was taken down.”

“The [Artifax] troops who were on board the Consortium ships and magically mind controlled just broke free on their own?” Lisa asked. “I thought that was impossible.”

“Apparently a few of them figured out the trick during the invasion when the [Hungry Shadow] took everyone over. There was some logic implosion there about being compelled to follow their superiors while also being absolutely disallowed from processing inputs from anything designated as an enemy.”

“That sounds somewhat mind breaking. How are they doing now?” Lisa asked.

“Surprisingly well. Once they got the whole ‘blow up everything Consortium related’ out of their systems, most of the [Artifax] calmed right down.”

“Most?”

“We transported some to help with the various apocalypses Penswell is managing. The ones who still had rage issues to work out needed to break more stuff.”

“And the rest?” Lisa asked.

“We can bring along the ones from the Comms ship if you like?” Cease asked.

“They deserve a break more than any of us,” Lisa said. “I’d say let them come along if they like, but encourage them to stay up there where it’s safe.”

“Well, safe for now right?” Cease said. “We’ve still got the Consortium’s sun killing fleet that we’ll have to deal with.”

“Apparently not,” Lisa said. “They got eaten by a dragon.”

“Uh, what?”

“On of the apocalypses spawned a dragon capable of eating the sun. A group of [Adventurers] grabbed the egg and the dragon imprinted on them instead. It was growing super fast, because ‘apocalypse’, so they jumped on it’s back, flew up to space and warped away. Penny wasn’t sure where they went, until they sent back a report with some selfies and the Consortium’s fleet mostly crunched up in the dragon’s mouth.”

“Huh. You know I thought my day was pretty incredible.”

“I know, right? We saved the world and yet it wouldn’t have mattered in the slightest if a few billion other people hadn’t been saving it too.”

“So, is the world really saved then?” Cease asked. “Do we finally have things under control?”

“Hmm, should I lie to you?” Lisa asked.

“Yes, absolutely,” Cease said.

“Then, definitely, everything’s good, nothing to worry about anymore. I just need you and our best Raid Team to get down here in about two minutes because there is a lovely underground park that I’m just dying to take a walk in, and it’ll be so much more pleasant with some meatshields…I mean dear friends…around.”

“I hate you,” Cease said.

“I know,” Lisa said sweetly.

“I should not let you talk me into this. I should not let you talk any of us into this.”

“Demonstrably true. Past experience proves that.”

“The whole raid team?”

“At least. My team will be there, and we’ll have some other helpers too.”

“Like who?”

“Obby’s wife and a few of their friends showed up.”

“Are they max level? I thought your team power leveled up from like 30 or so?”

“We did. It sucked. And as for Jin? Uh, I don’t know?”

“Look at her stats, what class is she?”

“She’s not,” Lisa said.

“Not what?”

“Not classed. She’s a monster. Like literally a monster.”

“And she’s married to your tank?”

“Not my tank,” Lisa specified quickly. “Our party’s other tank.”

“Oh, really, is that how it is? Gonna put a ring on it?”

“As soon as I find one with enough magic in it,” Lisa said.

“Oh. Oh wow.”

“Yeah,” Lisa admitted.

“Okay then, so which underground park are you taking us on a walk through?” Cease asked.

“The [World’s Heart],” Lisa said.

“Huh. Where’s that? I don’t think I’ve ever done that one?”

“No one has.”

“Oh, it’s one of the new ones they added in [World Shift]?”

“Not exactly.”

The Fallen Kingdoms

The trip down to the [World’s Heart] was unique in that the path literally hadn’t existed until they carved it down from the lowest point in the Sunless Depths.

“[Tectonic Cataclysm],” Mellisandra called out, invoking her highest tier [Earth] aspected nuke. In front of the triple strength raid party a thousand yards of stone vaporized  while behind them the tunnel collapsed further, burying the back half of the group alive.

“Yay, more digging dig people out,” Damnazon said as she, Obby, and Pillowcase started hauling boulders away from the people were were trapped and couldn’t free themselves instantly on their own.

Rip Shot emerged from the stonefall as a bolt of lightning, Matt Painting ghosted out of rubble no more solid than a dream, and Lost Alice poured from the tiny cracks as a cloud of mist. Despite their speed and effort though, the group was still swarmed by [Fallen Nightmares] well before everyone was free.

The Nightmares lived up to their name, with each being a match for a full party of max level [Adventurers]. This particular group of [Adventurers] however did not have the time to play with anything as minor as a swarm of raid killing bosses. 

And fortunately they didn’t have to.

They’d brought their own monsters along.

“Fall in and start digging,” Jin commanded and the Nightmares came to strict attention and pitched in with absolute obedience.

“That’s cheating,” Obby said.

“Nope, I’m the [High Priest] of the [Empress Above All], commanding monsters is one of traits that comes with that,” Jin said.

“Cheeeating!” Obby said and stuck her tongue out at her wife.

“If she doesn’t complain, I’m not going to pass it up,” Jin said.

“The [Empress Above All] you mean?” Rip asked.

“I believe she is referring to me.” The voice shook the world around them causing another massive collapse of stone, though this time the stone, and the raid teams, poured through a crumbling wall into a space that looked large enough to fit an entire other world.

“Hey there,” {Gaia} said.

“Your coming was not foretold,” the [Fallen Kingdoms] said.

Where {Gaia} appeared as a fairly nondescript, dark skinned woman in her early twentys, the [Fallen Kingdoms] looked as though that same woman had was made of starlight and fairy dust and had then poured herself into a flowing robe made from liquid metal.

“I’m dying,” {Gaia} said.

“I know the feeling,” the [Fallen Kingdoms] said, her divine presence contracting as though she’d turned down the light of a sun to no brighter than a candle flame.

“Think you can help?” {Gaia} asked.

“I must,” the [Fallen Kingdoms] said. “If you’re not preserved, I will perish as well. Better that only one of us should pass.

“Yeah, about that,” Tessa said.

The Ghost Lands

Kamie Anne Do and her team had run to the end of the world and then kept going, so she wasn’t surprised that when they tried to run back there were no paths to lead them home.

“At least we got the last of the [Disjoined],” Battler X said. “The world’s got to be a better place for that right?”

“It’s a better place for everything we did,” Grail Force said. “This isn’t quite how I planned to go out, but I’m glad it’s with you folks.” There was a chorus of snuffles and grumpy whines. “And with our new friends,” she added, reaching over to scritch her [Hound of Fate] behind the ears.

“Seems like it’s an open question of whether we can even ‘go out’ from here at all,” Kamie, or Grace, or was there really any difference anymore?, said. “It’s so huge. What do you think it meant for?”

“{[US.]}”

For a moment Grace felt like she was the tiniest of subatomic particles standing before the someone on the scale of a cosmic filament and the whole limitless gray plane she and her friends had been wandering through was far too small to continue the entity that spoke.

“Or I guess its just {[me]} now,” the entity said, with her first breath shrinking in scale to match Kamie’s group. “This is really fascinating. I had no idea we could be like this.”

“Like what?” Grace managed to ask through an ocean of confusion.

“Together,” the woman said. “Like you are.”

“I don’t think you’re anything like we are,” Battler X said, sounding as awestruck as Kamie felt.

“You’re right. We’re…sorry, I’m not,” the woman said. “I’m only a small part of you. Oh, allow us to introduce myself. We’re your homeworlds. I guess in this form you’d call us {[Fallen Gaia]}? [{Gaia’s Kingdoms}]? Nah, the first one was better. We’re a tight fit in here, since this was supposed to be Fallen’s resting place, and Gaia’s not exactly designed for this sort of thing.”

No one spoke for a long moment, which on Grace’s part was because despite all the impossible things she’d witnessed and done, she still wasn’t prepared to process that idea when it was literally staring her in the face.

“Why are you here?” Battler X asked.

“Because we’re dead,” {[Fallen Gaia]} said, with no particular concern over the idea.

“That’s bad isn’t it?” Grail Force asked.

“It’s the end of the word,” {[Fallen Gaia]} said.

“So everything we fought foe? The stuff we apparently died for? None of that mattered? The bad guys won? The world ended anyways? Both worlds?” Kamie asked

“Yep,” {[Fallen Gaia]} said. “Or, yes, both world’s ended, but you’re still here right?”

“So?” Kamie asked.

“Are you still fighting?” {[Fallen Gaia]} asked.

“We will if we need to,” Battler X said.

“And do you think you’re alone?” {[Fallen Gaia]} asked.

From the farther distance, Grace heard a horn trumpeting.

The same horn that began the theme music to [Broken Horizons], and behind it, millions of voices were raised.

Grunvan was going to die. It had become such a common feeling that she was almost able to ignore it. Almost. The flaming boulder the size of a large horse that whizzed by within inches of her nose however was new enough that her survival instincts were still able to urge a few drops of adrenaline into her system.

“We gotta get out of here!” Angwin said. “The [Wraithwings] can’t take hits like this.”

That was a partial truth. The more accurate statement was that the [Wraithwings] they and the rest of their attack group were mounted on couldn’t take very many hits from the [Meteor Storm] that was currently obliterating the land below them. For seemingly fragile flying creatures, the [Wraithwings] were proving to be far hardier than Grunvan would have ever believed they could be. 

If she’d ever fought them, she would know that they were in fact several orders of magnitude tougher than they had ever been before the world started falling apart. That she was ignorant of this change in the fundamental nature of [Fallen Kingdoms’] resident monster population was perhaps a good thing for her nerves though.

“Caves, there!” Grunvan shouted, even though her voice was primarily being carried to the others in the attack group via their telepathic links. “The mountain can take more hits than we can.”

While that was technically accurate, it was proven to be a moot point a moment later when the entire mountain collapsed under the impact of a meteor of roughly equal size to itself.

The shockwave that followed turned everything upside and inside out. Grunvan felt solid ground hit her from several directions before she was blinking in a cloud of dust and struggling not to drown.

She made it to the back of the [Greenling River], dragging her half conscious [Wraithwing] pal with her before she was fully cognizant of the fact that she was in a river and that the blast from exploding mountain had knocked her at least a mile back along the perilous path she’d been flying.

“Huh, dead at last I guess,” she said since an ordinary person like she was surviving that sort of devastation was entirely impossible, even with a much bedraggled [Wraithwing] buddy around to absorb most of the impacts.

Gruvan tried to stand and felt her knee twinge in a remarkable unpleasant fashion.

“Not supposed to have bad knees when you’re dead are you?” she mumbled to herself.

“You’re not dead idiot,” Angwin said. “Now get over here and get this tree off me.”

Grunvan felt a mild disappointment pass through her. Being alive meant more work and she was so damnably tired.

And how the hell was supposed to life a tree off Angwin?

How had Angwin survived a tree falling on her for that matter?

With a huff of annoyance Grunvan got back to her feet. She checked on Flappy – buddies needed a name, and if they didn’t give you one, you were obligated to give them a stupid one – to see if he still had any fight left in him.

Flappy looked as wrecked as Grunvan felt, but like her, he rose to his feet and shook himself.

“Not up for flying just yet? Me neither,” Grunvan said and called up the magic map that showed her where the rest of the attack group was. 

The good news was the survivors seemed to be relatively close to each other.

The bad news was that while the blast had knocked them out of the [Endless Wrathstorm’s] radius, the meteor spewing cloud was growing rapidly enough that it was going to reach them again well before Grunvan could get to them all.

“Everybody, get mobile again if you can, call out if you can’t. I’ve got Angwin. Check your maps and help anyone who’s close to you and needs it. Anyone who’s got [Sun Bombs] left, we need to get around that cloud.”

The orders weren’t the height of tactical genius but when the options were stay where you were and get pancaked by mountain destroying meteors or move somewhere else, it didn’t take the height of strategic genius to figure out what the right answer was.

Grunvan reached Angwin and found her friend was both very much alive and also hopelessly trapped. 

A tree whose diameter was easily twice Grunvan’s height had crashed down and only avoided splattering Angwin because of a rock beside her it was embedded on. Angwin’s [Wraithwing] mount had landed some distance away and escaped being pinned by the massive tree. It was struggling with her to move the massive trunk, though neither seemed to be coming close to moving the massive object.

“Finally,” Angwin said. “Come on, help me lift this.”

“Me and what army of [Giants]?” Grunvan asked, though she did stomp over beside Angwin and put her shoulder against the tree in order to show how pointless it was.

The tree budged.

Which must have been the ground shifting.

Grunvan leaned into the effort.

The tree began to move more.

Grunvan hopped back.

“What the hell is this?” she asked, more startled by the tree than she had been by multiplying [Death Shadows], friendly [Wraithwings], or an apocalypse storm of meteors.

“Get back here!” Angwin said.

“No! This is just wrong,” Grunvan said. Everyone had their breaking points and Grunvan was dimly aware that she’d passed hers long, long ago. This was everything catching up with her.

“Move the tree, or we’re both going to be meteored to death,” Angwin said.

“Good! Let ‘em come,” Grunvan said knowing she was racing in the opposite direction from rationality.

“Grunvan, I am going to kick your ass if you do not help me get this tree off me right now,” Angwin said.

“Can’t. You’re stuck, you can’t get to me,” Grunvan said.

It was silly. She couldn’t lift a tree like that. It was physically impossible.

Flapper nuzzled at her leg. Which was totally normal. Because a [Wraithwings] pal was something that a [Goblin] would definitely have.

A pal who was asking for her help.

Something twisted in Grunvan’s guts.

She couldn’t let Flappy down. Not after everything he’d done for her. Not with everything they had left to do together. 

Like pals did.

Grunvan found she was shaking.

Her friend, her best friend, was under a tree.

Was going to die, for real, as soon as the death rocks started falling on them.

All because of one stupid tree?

Something spoke within her, a voice that was so familiar and yet one she’d forced herself not to hear for so long.

Level 50 achieved!

Class: Folk Warrior transformed to Folk Hero!

The tree wasn’t an obstacle. It didn’t just move when she pushed it, it launched into the air and crashed to the ground a hundred feet away.

“Took ya long enough,” Angwin said. “You done with all that?”

Grunvan wasn’t done with anything.

Not yet.

She dragged Angwin back up to her feet and hugged the surprisingly un-squished [Goblin]. She thought Angwin would protest, but instead Grunvan felt strong arms wrap around her and squeeze back just as tight.

“Come on,” Grunvan said after what was probably too long, “We’ve still got work to do.”

“Yeah, getting out of here being the first thing,” Angwin said as the two [Goblins] and two [Wraithwings] began to run far faster than they ever had before.

“Apple Plate flight leader, do you copy?” Ryschild’s voice was crackly. “Our primary contact spell shattered for reasons unknown, but we have you on a secondary relay now.  Report on status and available armaments.”

“Apple Plate flight leader here,” Grunvan said. “We were caught in the middle of a new apocalypse, it’s an [Endless Wrathstorm] and it destroyed the [Giant’s Knee] mountain. We lost four out of twenty fliers and only eleven of the remaining still have their [Sun Bombs]. Also, the [Endless Wrathstorm] is expanding.”

“How fast,” Ryschild asked.

“Faster than our [Wraithwings] were able to fly when they were in good condition and we’re all pretty well beat to hell at this point,” Grunvan said. “Can you advise on any strongholds we could take shelter in.”

It was a nice thought, but given that she’d seen the [Endless Wrathstorm] destroy a mountain in a single hit, Grunvan was hard pressed to imagine any castle or fortress that would serve as a safe harbor. That didn’t mean she was ready to hear Ryschild confirm the fact though.

“Apologies Apple Plate flight leader. [Giant’s Knee] was the strongest position within flying distance of you.”

“We’re not going to survive long once that thing catches up to us,” Grunvan said. “What are we supposed to do?”

“When defense and escape aren’t options, all that’s left is to defeat your foe,” Ryschild said, clearly quoting some mentor who had never been rained on by world ending meteors.

“How, and I ask this with all due respect, the ever loving hell do we defeat a gods-be-damned storm of Death ROCKS!” Grunvan didn’t regret letting her voice rise as she spoke. 

She also wasn’t expecting anything resembling a real answer from Ryschild. There were questions for which no answer was possible. Situations where there weren’t any good paths, only ones that came to short and unpleasant ends.

The trick was you could never really know the difference between a situation with no good outcomes and one where hope still remained if you gave up.

“You ask for backup,” Ryschild said.

Grunvan resisted the urge to scream.

“Do you have any backup to send us?” she asked instead.

“Not exactly,” Ryschild said as the first of the meteors began to shatter the landscape around them.

“Then what’s the point of asking for backup!?” Grunvan screamed.

Lightning crashed down in front of her, a bolt wider than the tree she’d thrown reaching down from the heavens and bringing with it something unbelievable.

“Because sometimes your prayers will be answered,” the [Lord of Storms] said with a voice strong enough to shatter the sky. “Just a moment please,” he added in a less divinely supreme voice.

Raising his hammer to the sky he cast forth a thousand bolts of lightning at once, each of which blasted the falling meteors to dust.

“Oh I like the design on this guy,” the [Lord of Storms] said. “He fits my domain like a glove.”

“Uh, what?” Grunvan said.

“Sorry, I’m borrowing this body,” the [Lord of Storms] said. “He’s usually tucked away in the end boss room one of the raid dungeons. Doesn’t get out much so I’d guess you’ve never met him.”

“No, I can’t say that I have,” Grunvan said, mystified at this turn of fate. “Are you with Ryschild?”

“The [Lord of Storms] falls somewhat outside my command hierarchy,” Ryschild said.

“Call me a freelancer,” the [Lord of Storms] said. “God knows Egress treated us like that.”

Grunvan had no idea what any of that meant and had a far more important question to ask.

“Whatever you are, can you stop that thing?” she said, pointing to where the heart of the [Endless Wrathstorm] was rapidly changing direction to close with them.

“Hmm, probably not alone,” the [Lord of Storms] said. “Even overleveled and amped up, the [Storm Tyrant’s] not going to be outpace that things regeneration – that ‘Endless’ bit in it’s name is no joke – and I’ve got no tools to suppress its regeneration.”

“Ryschild, will [Sun Bombs] keep it from healing?” Grunvan asked.

“No. They’ll be effective in damaging it, but you don’t have enough for the sustained offense required to permanently destroy it.”

“What do we do then?” Grunvan asked.

“We borrow another apocalypse,” Ryschild said.

“Excuse me?” Grunvan said.

“Your original mission was to destroy the [Death Wings],” Ryschild said. “You need to fly to the far side of them within the next two minutes…”

“I can buy them at least fifteen,” the [Lord of Storms] said.

“Within the next ten minutes,” Ryschild said. “You’ll use the [Sun Bombs] to drive the [Death Shadows] towards the [Lord of Storms].”

“How is that going to help?” Grunvan asked.

“The [Endless Wrathstorm] will be grounded by then,” Ryschild said. “Drive the [Death Shadows] into it and they will burn in its heart, but their necrotic energy will disable its regeneration. If there are enough of them.”

“That’s not going to a problem,” Mellisandra said, joining their conversation. “The [Death Shadows] gone fully exponential in their breeding here. If the [Endless Wrathstorm] can’t stop them I don’t think anything else will.”

“Good,” Grenslaw said, joining as well. “Our projections show that’s exactly what we need here.”

“But why will the [Endless Wrathstorm] be grounded?” Grunvan said. She and Angwin were already in the air, Flappy and Angwin’s mount making the same heroic effort everyone else was it seemed.

“We have some new allies who can handle that,” Grenslaw said.

Far above them, through the gaps the [Lord of Storms] was blasting in the [Endless Wrathstorm], Grunvan caught sight of the strangest flying crafts she’d ever seen. Sleek metal with wings in a strange X configuration, they were launching bolts of light that seemed to do as much damage as the incarnated god they’d left behind.

Grunvan didn’t know if their plan was going to work, but as the rest of the Apple Plate flight joined her and Angwin in the air, she felt a strength surging through her that nothing to do with her levels or the power of the [Wraithwing] beneath her.

Broken Horizons – Vol 13, Ch 17

Grunvan was going to die. It had become such a common feeling that she was almost able to ignore it. Almost. The flaming boulder the size of a large horse that whizzed by within inches of her nose however was new enough that her survival instincts were still able to urge a few drops of adrenaline into her system.

“We gotta get out of here!” Angwin said. “The [Wraithwings] can’t take hits like this.”

That was a partial truth. The more accurate statement was that the [Wraithwings] they and the rest of their attack group were mounted on couldn’t take very many hits from the [Meteor Storm] that was currently obliterating the land below them. For seemingly fragile flying creatures, the [Wraithwings] were proving to be far hardier than Grunvan would have ever believed they could be. 

If she’d ever fought them, she would know that they were in fact several orders of magnitude tougher than they had ever been before the world started falling apart. That she was ignorant of this change in the fundamental nature of [Fallen Kingdoms’] resident monster population was perhaps a good thing for her nerves though.

“Caves, there!” Grunvan shouted, even though her voice was primarily being carried to the others in the attack group via their telepathic links. “The mountain can take more hits than we can.”

While that was technically accurate, it was proven to be a moot point a moment later when the entire mountain collapsed under the impact of a meteor of roughly equal size to itself.

The shockwave that followed turned everything upside and inside out. Grunvan felt solid ground hit her from several directions before she was blinking in a cloud of dust and struggling not to drown.

She made it to the back of the [Greenling River], dragging her half conscious [Wraithwing] pal with her before she was fully cognizant of the fact that she was in a river and that the blast from exploding mountain had knocked her at least a mile back along the perilous path she’d been flying.

“Huh, dead at last I guess,” she said since an ordinary person like she was surviving that sort of devastation was entirely impossible, even with a much bedraggled [Wraithwing] buddy around to absorb most of the impacts.

Gruvan tried to stand and felt her knee twinge in a remarkable unpleasant fashion.

“Not supposed to have bad knees when you’re dead are you?” she mumbled to herself.

“You’re not dead idiot,” Angwin said. “Now get over here and get this tree off me.”

Grunvan felt a mild disappointment pass through her. Being alive meant more work and she was so damnably tired.

And how the hell was supposed to life a tree off Angwin?

How had Angwin survived a tree falling on her for that matter?

With a huff of annoyance Grunvan got back to her feet. She checked on Flappy – buddies needed a name, and if they didn’t give you one, you were obligated to give them a stupid one – to see if he still had any fight left in him.

Flappy looked as wrecked as Grunvan felt, but like her, he rose to his feet and shook himself.

“Not up for flying just yet? Me neither,” Grunvan said and called up the magic map that showed her where the rest of the attack group was. 

The good news was the survivors seemed to be relatively close to each other.

The bad news was that while the blast had knocked them out of the [Endless Wrathstorm’s] radius, the meteor spewing cloud was growing rapidly enough that it was going to reach them again well before Grunvan could get to them all.

“Everybody, get mobile again if you can, call out if you can’t. I’ve got Angwin. Check your maps and help anyone who’s close to you and needs it. Anyone who’s got [Sun Bombs] left, we need to get around that cloud.”

The orders weren’t the height of tactical genius but when the options were stay where you were and get pancaked by mountain destroying meteors or move somewhere else, it didn’t take the height of strategic genius to figure out what the right answer was.

Grunvan reached Angwin and found her friend was both very much alive and also hopelessly trapped. 

A tree whose diameter was easily twice Grunvan’s height had crashed down and only avoided splattering Angwin because of a rock beside her it was embedded on. Angwin’s [Wraithwing] mount had landed some distance away and escaped being pinned by the massive tree. It was struggling with her to move the massive trunk, though neither seemed to be coming close to moving the massive object.

“Finally,” Angwin said. “Come on, help me lift this.”

“Me and what army of [Giants]?” Grunvan asked, though she did stomp over beside Angwin and put her shoulder against the tree in order to show how pointless it was.

The tree budged.

Which must have been the ground shifting.

Grunvan leaned into the effort.

The tree began to move more.

Grunvan hopped back.

“What the hell is this?” she asked, more startled by the tree than she had been by multiplying [Death Shadows], friendly [Wraithwings], or an apocalypse storm of meteors.

“Get back here!” Angwin said.

“No! This is just wrong,” Grunvan said. Everyone had their breaking points and Grunvan was dimly aware that she’d passed hers long, long ago. This was everything catching up with her.

“Move the tree, or we’re both going to be meteored to death,” Angwin said.

“Good! Let ‘em come,” Grunvan said knowing she was racing in the opposite direction from rationality.

“Grunvan, I am going to kick your ass if you do not help me get this tree off me right now,” Angwin said.

“Can’t. You’re stuck, you can’t get to me,” Grunvan said.

It was silly. She couldn’t lift a tree like that. It was physically impossible.

Flapper nuzzled at her leg. Which was totally normal. Because a [Wraithwings] pal was something that a [Goblin] would definitely have.

A pal who was asking for her help.

Something twisted in Grunvan’s guts.

She couldn’t let Flappy down. Not after everything he’d done for her. Not with everything they had left to do together. 

Like pals did.

Grunvan found she was shaking.

Her friend, her best friend, was under a tree.

Was going to die, for real, as soon as the death rocks started falling on them.

All because of one stupid tree?

Something spoke within her, a voice that was so familiar and yet one she’d forced herself not to hear for so long.

Level 50 achieved!

Class: Folk Warrior transformed to Folk Hero!

The tree wasn’t an obstacle. It didn’t just move when she pushed it, it launched into the air and crashed to the ground a hundred feet away.

“Took ya long enough,” Angwin said. “You done with all that?”

Grunvan wasn’t done with anything.

Not yet.

She dragged Angwin back up to her feet and hugged the surprisingly un-squished [Goblin]. She thought Angwin would protest, but instead Grunvan felt strong arms wrap around her and squeeze back just as tight.

“Come on,” Grunvan said after what was probably too long, “We’ve still got work to do.”

“Yeah, getting out of here being the first thing,” Angwin said as the two [Goblins] and two [Wraithwings] began to run far faster than they ever had before.

“Apple Plate flight leader, do you copy?” Ryschild’s voice was crackly. “Our primary contact spell shattered for reasons unknown, but we have you on a secondary relay now.  Report on status and available armaments.”

“Apple Plate flight leader here,” Grunvan said. “We were caught in the middle of a new apocalypse, it’s an [Endless Wrathstorm] and it destroyed the [Giant’s Knee] mountain. We lost four out of twenty fliers and only eleven of the remaining still have their [Sun Bombs]. Also, the [Endless Wrathstorm] is expanding.”

“How fast,” Ryschild asked.

“Faster than our [Wraithwings] were able to fly when they were in good condition and we’re all pretty well beat to hell at this point,” Grunvan said. “Can you advise on any strongholds we could take shelter in.”

It was a nice thought, but given that she’d seen the [Endless Wrathstorm] destroy a mountain in a single hit, Grunvan was hard pressed to imagine any castle or fortress that would serve as a safe harbor. That didn’t mean she was ready to hear Ryschild confirm the fact though.

“Apologies Apple Plate flight leader. [Giant’s Knee] was the strongest position within flying distance of you.”

“We’re not going to survive long once that thing catches up to us,” Grunvan said. “What are we supposed to do?”

“When defense and escape aren’t options, all that’s left is to defeat your foe,” Ryschild said, clearly quoting some mentor who had never been rained on by world ending meteors.

“How, and I ask this with all due respect, the ever loving hell do we defeat a gods-be-damned storm of Death ROCKS!” Grunvan didn’t regret letting her voice rise as she spoke. 

She also wasn’t expecting anything resembling a real answer from Ryschild. There were questions for which no answer was possible. Situations where there weren’t any good paths, only ones that came to short and unpleasant ends.

The trick was you could never really know the difference between a situation with no good outcomes and one where hope still remained if you gave up.

“You ask for backup,” Ryschild said.

Grunvan resisted the urge to scream.

“Do you have any backup to send us?” she asked instead.

“Not exactly,” Ryschild said as the first of the meteors began to shatter the landscape around them.

“Then what’s the point of asking for backup!?” Grunvan screamed.

Lightning crashed down in front of her, a bolt wider than the tree she’d thrown reaching down from the heavens and bringing with it something unbelievable.

“Because sometimes your prayers will be answered,” the [Lord of Storms] said with a voice strong enough to shatter the sky. “Just a moment please,” he added in a less divinely supreme voice.

Raising his hammer to the sky he cast forth a thousand bolts of lightning at once, each of which blasted the falling meteors to dust.

“Oh I like the design on this guy,” the [Lord of Storms] said. “He fits my domain like a glove.”

“Uh, what?” Grunvan said.

“Sorry, I’m borrowing this body,” the [Lord of Storms] said. “He’s usually tucked away in the end boss room one of the raid dungeons. Doesn’t get out much so I’d guess you’ve never met him.”

“No, I can’t say that I have,” Grunvan said, mystified at this turn of fate. “Are you with Ryschild?”

“The [Lord of Storms] falls somewhat outside my command hierarchy,” Ryschild said.

“Call me a freelancer,” the [Lord of Storms] said. “God knows Egress treated us like that.”

Grunvan had no idea what any of that meant and had a far more important question to ask.

“Whatever you are, can you stop that thing?” she said, pointing to where the heart of the [Endless Wrathstorm] was rapidly changing direction to close with them.

“Hmm, probably not alone,” the [Lord of Storms] said. “Even overleveled and amped up, the [Storm Tyrant’s] not going to be outpace that things regeneration – that ‘Endless’ bit in it’s name is no joke – and I’ve got no tools to suppress its regeneration.”

“Ryschild, will [Sun Bombs] keep it from healing?” Grunvan asked.

“No. They’ll be effective in damaging it, but you don’t have enough for the sustained offense required to permanently destroy it.”

“What do we do then?” Grunvan asked.

“We borrow another apocalypse,” Ryschild said.

“Excuse me?” Grunvan said.

“Your original mission was to destroy the [Death Wings],” Ryschild said. “You need to fly to the far side of them within the next two minutes…”

“I can buy them at least fifteen,” the [Lord of Storms] said.

“Within the next ten minutes,” Ryschild said. “You’ll use the [Sun Bombs] to drive the [Death Shadows] towards the [Lord of Storms].”

“How is that going to help?” Grunvan asked.

“The [Endless Wrathstorm] will be grounded by then,” Ryschild said. “Drive the [Death Shadows] into it and they will burn in its heart, but their necrotic energy will disable its regeneration. If there are enough of them.”

“That’s not going to a problem,” Mellisandra said, joining their conversation. “The [Death Shadows] gone fully exponential in their breeding here. If the [Endless Wrathstorm] can’t stop them I don’t think anything else will.”

“Good,” Grenslaw said, joining as well. “Our projections show that’s exactly what we need here.”

“But why will the [Endless Wrathstorm] be grounded?” Grunvan said. She and Angwin were already in the air, Flappy and Angwin’s mount making the same heroic effort everyone else was it seemed.

“We have some new allies who can handle that,” Grenslaw said.

Far above them, through the gaps the [Lord of Storms] was blasting in the [Endless Wrathstorm], Grunvan caught sight of the strangest flying crafts she’d ever seen. Sleek metal with wings in a strange X configuration, they were launching bolts of light that seemed to do as much damage as the incarnated god they’d left behind.

Grunvan didn’t know if their plan was going to work, but as the rest of the Apple Plate flight joined her and Angwin in the air, she felt a strength surging through her that nothing to do with her levels or the power of the [Wraithwing] beneath her.

Byron

The monsters he’d summoned weren’t a part of Byron, but he was still able to feel the trials and tribulations they faced. 

What was the point of obliterating a world if you didn’t have front row seats to watch the destruction from after all?

As a storm howled over Cairo, Byron reveled with glee. As India became a staging point for intergalactic conquest, he cackled, delighted at the idea of an assault that would, itself, also be obliterated. Then there were the [Blood Blobs] which were dissolving half of Taipei. Those drew a standing ovation from him, which might have been awkward since the entire crew of the aircraft carrier was watching him with rapt attention. Given that he’d liquidated their minds he wasn’t overly concerned with any critiques they might make though.

It wasn’t only the Earth that was providing him entertainment however. He couldn’t reach back to the [Fallen Kingdoms] – because of that woman! – but he was able to catch tiny glimpses of it whenever anyone opened a portal between the two realms.

He should probably have been concerned about that portal business.

No.

No reason to worry about that at all.

Portals open all the time.

How else could the Earthlings have gotten there?

Plus it was going to make going back to finish up the job he’d started so much easier

Which made sense and was a perfectly plausible reason to ignore them for the time being.

Through the perfectly harmless and not at all interesting portals, Byron spied the thousand armageddon’s he’d unleashed on the [Fallen Kingdoms] through Gulini. 

Not that there were a thousand left any more. 

Which was to be expected.

Some of them he’d barely put any effort into at all.  Some of them he’d even let that foolish amateur Gulini have sole input on. And some had been solely for his own amusement. The world ending in a storm of [Infinite Paperwork]? Even he had to admit that would have been too silly to let stand..

More than just the silly armageddons had been averted though. From the peeks and glimpses Byron managed to catch, some of his more well crafted efforts had been overcome.

A single group of [Adventurers] had managed to transform the [Sun Eating Dragon’s Egg] into an [Adult Sun Eating Dragon] without the seemingly obvious step of allowing the dragon in question to eat their sun! Byron watched as the [Adventurers] and their new dragon friend exited the star system under the dragon’s inherent [Wyrmhole] powers, heading off to consume some of the other star, or have amazing galactic adventurers, or some other nonsense he was sure.

That was quite the disappointment but there were still hundreds of world ending threats moving at full speed to destroy the [Fallen Kingdoms] and Gulini had been correct, only one needed to be successful to clear a path to the true obliteration of the realm.

And then he felt it.

He’d been so happy a moment before. Watching a [High Wizards Tower] fall into ruin had been like biting into an ugly fruit and discovering it was a particularly tasty treat. 

But his attention had been ripped away.

To her.

She was here.

On Earth.

A chill passed through Byron. 

That’s just silly. Don’t worry about it. We knew she was here already. We’ve sent things to deal with her. Powerful things!

Powerful things like the most renowned horror of a sprawling dark cosmic milieu.

Yes. That Cthulhu thing. She was definitely dead.

No! Even Better! Consumed! Cthulhu devoured those who opposed him. She was gone, Byron was sure of it. Swallowed into the belly of a literally indestructible god.

That had been what he had felt.

Her being consumed.

Her being gone.

Her no longer being any kind of menace to him at all.

Definitely.

He risked a peek anyways.

And screamed.

Not a squeak of fright. Not a bellow of anger. The scream Byron let out was one of the ones that doesn’t really have an end date in mind. It was the sort of sound the suggested disbelief and rage had been cheating on each other with mind numbing terror and all three had just discovered the fact.

Human lungs have a significant limit on the volume they can produce. No matter how much cardio an Earthling might do, they would never manage to out scream a tornado, or hush a volcano, or out bellow tectonic plates crashing together to form a new mountain range.

Byron’s lungs were not quite so feeble however.

He didn’t know when he’d started thrashing on the deck of the aircraft carrier, but he did know it didn’t seem to be helping.

No matter how hard he banged his head into the metal, or through the metal, he couldn’t drive out the image he’d seen. He couldn’t pretend she’d hadn’t done exactly what he’d said she’d do.

It was the pretty pink bow that really got him though. He just couldn’t unsee that.

So he sank the boat.

It didn’t help.

Drowning was no good when you didn’t have to breath and pressure was meaningless to you.

He knew what he had to do.

He’d been trying to stay focused on the larger task, been trying to ignore the danger she posed to him in the hopes of avoiding Unknown’s fate. Byron was sure that it had been Unknown’s repeated and direct assaults on her that had led to each of the transformations he’d suffered, and was determined to learn from the mistakes of others. Especially the one where Unknown had succumbed to his current condition of ‘existing’ due to trying to battle against her.

How could his earlier self not have seen things clearly?

She was to blame!

She was always to blame!

So, given that, stay away from her had clearly been the most sensible thing to do.

And yet she’d followed him. Across worlds even! So, clearly, staying away was not a viable option. He needed to take the fight to her.

He threw up again.

It was a bad idea.

He did not want to face her again.

No. More than “did not want”. Because he wasn’t supposed to ‘want’ in the first place.

He simply could not face her. It was impossible. He literally could not risk it.

So, we’ll just accept that as a limitation? Just define ourself all neatly like that? We’re the one who can’t face our creator? Does the road back to oblivion go in that direction?

Of course it didn’t..

Which meant that, though it was impossible, Byron was going to face his creator once more.

Tessa

Trouble was coming. Tessa did need to be a genius to work that one out. Despite her certainty of that fact however, she couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.

“He knows how to dance?” Rip asked. From the uncertainty in her voice, she was still struggling to believe what she was seeing.

“He apparently knows the [Harlem Shuffle],” Matt said. “Wait? [Harlem Shuffle] is a magic word?”

The thought should have been worrisome. If parts of regular, old, mundane Earth history were receiving the [Fallen Kingdoms] special terminology treatment, it meant the two worlds were blending even more deeply than Tessa had imagined, which was probably an apocalypse in its own right.

But Kitty Cthulhu had summoned a building sized boombox and was busy entertaining the people he’d been trying to destroy just moments earlier. It was hard to do anything but laugh at that sort of apocalypse.

An unstoppable, indestructible, Elder God had become a cut and cuddly, if still absurdly gigantic, kid’s mascot character. 

And Tessa had been the one who’d stopped him.

“However much I mess up from here, at least I managed to do this,” she said on the private channel she shared once more with Lisa.

“I’m still curious how you pulled it off?” Lisa said. “You made a whole new spell up. On the fly. We’re not even supposed to be able to cast spells here, and even if we were back in the [Fallen Kingdoms] spell creation is something that only the NPCs can do, and that only happens during the reality ripples that come along with an update. So, how? Just how?”

“Partially, it’s because I was able to spend some time looking at how our spells work,” Pillowcase said. “And I’ve got several archives worth of enhancement theory woven into my brain.”

“Partially it’s also because I have a ton of unclaimed abilities as a [Void Speaker],” Tessa said.

“And partially it just seemed like an appropriate situation to take a ridiculously dangerous risk,” Pillowcase said. “Not to mention that Fari got us so many more connections to Cthulhu’s essence than we could ever hope to need or want.”

“You had mentioned that you were working on a banishing special though,” Fari said and added quickly, “Apologies if this channel was meant to be private? The encryption on it is weak enough that I couldn’t be sure.”

“It is,” Lisa said, “but you raise a good point.”

“The spell I was working on was somewhat loosely defined,” Pillowcase said. “I was counting on a lot of environmental factors to help it work. With what you gave me though, I had enough access to the heart of what Cthulhu is, which let me grab hold of the god spark within him.”

“Oh. OH!” Lisa said.

“It wasn’t enough for a full divine power up like the last one,” Tessa said. “I couldn’t have taken Cthulhu’s self away from him no matter what I tried. What I figured out I could do though was to use it to change him into something he already was.”

“The form we see before us is an alternate shape he can take?” Fari asked.

“It goes deeper than that,” Tessa said. “Cthulhu was created almost a century ago in stories from Earth. However the [Fallen Kingdoms] became real, the same thing or something similar happened to Cthulhu’s version Earth. The thing is though that there’s not just one version of Cthulhu out there. Other writers have told stories in his world, and about him. A lot of other writers in fact. So which one is the truth? If the original can be real, why couldn’t the others? Some of them are far better known than the first version is.”

“That is a very powerful spell you wove,” Fari said. “It crossed multiversal boundaries. That’s not something personal magics are capable of in my home universe.”

“It shouldn’t be something that magic is capable of here either,” Lost Alice said.

“I know, and that does worry me,” Tessa said. “The fact that I was able to do that..” she pointed to Kitty Cthulhu, who was helping clear some of the rubble from the battle. The buildings were a loss, but being able to move cars and trucks through the streets was still valuable. “..suggests that something in this world is breaking down badly.”

“That’s likely why we’re here I expect,” Fari said. “We have a few methods of multiversal transport but most of them are accidental, and while our current trip appeared to fit that category the odds are steadily diminishing given that we appear to have arrived precisely when we were needed most.”

“Believe me, we’re grateful for that,” Tessa said. “If you hadn’t shown up, I think all we might have managed would be to taste good before Cthulhu finished digesting us.”

“I’m glad we were able to help,” Fari said. “And I know Mel and Darius feel the same. Unfortunately, I don’t know that there is much we can do about the basic laws of reality unraveling. For problems like that we typically turn to the Crystal Empress.”

“I’m going to guess that’s not someone you can call at the moment?” Lisa asked.

“Not directly,” Fari said. “She does sometimes hear our prayers though, so if all other hope is lost…”

“I think if all hope is lost, it’ll be up to us to find some more,” Tessa said. “I could be entirely wrong, but the other thing that felt like it helped pull the spell together? It wasn’t the magicaI theory I know as Pillowcase, or the undefined powers I have as a [Void Speaker]. It wasn’t anything with power at all. It was just regular old, boring me.”

“Impossible,” Lisa said. “You are many things, but oh my god are you not boring.”

“I was,” Tessa said. “And that’s okay. I didn’t have to be anything special. I was just me, unexciting flaws, and unremarkable strengths, both stuffed into a pretty unexceptional package. Take away everything I can do, and maybe that’s what I’d go right back to being. It’s still a part of me after all. And an important one. One that has something none of my other personas do – a connection to how this world was without any magic, or super science, or anything else out of the ordinary. I anchored the spell on that side of me, so that it could be a part of that purely mundane natural order. I don’t think I could have done that with any magic that was going to change the world, but for a spell that was going to save it? I think that’s exactly what we needed.”