4:12 Such Was My Rage
4:12 Such Was My Rage
There was only so much I could do to help my children as they crossed the One World, but it had to be enough. My personal will reached out across the universe, still absorbing information as I was, and lifted much of the restraints being placed upon my children as the Will of the One World continued to fight against foreign invaders. Both Alala and Yueya fought me as well, puppeteered by the Rot as they were, but I was stronger. They were only two thirds of an Origin. I was recovering and growing stronger with every passing minute, while the Rot only continued to flounder with base instincts.I grunted as I stood, stretching my body while my mind remained far away, twisting luck and causality to favor the flying warships my children flew in.
Even now I watched the three galleons, led by Alexander and commanded by Alanna, as they wound their way through a massive mountain range. A few airships from the One World, much smaller in size and far less impressive than those of the Four Realms, had joined their number, leading the way through valleys deeper than any seen in the Four Realms. Among them was the God of Law Balthasar, plus a few more One World gods who had been vetted and tested for Rot infection by subjecting them to Astraea’s light.
I estimated only a few days until they arrived at the Capital of Art, at which point it would be a slugfest. Crawling through streets, avoiding the anti-air defenses, inch by bloody inch to the heart of the Rot's base of power. Which would then be a whole other issue; one I would have to be present for. Facing Yueya would be...
I rubbed my face. Then there was the issue of Atreum. The man had vanished from my sight, but I could sense whispers of his presence. I had learned my lesson about overly relying upon my Truesight. It was likely Alala's doing that they were momentarily hidden from me, but I didn't need to see him to know what the plan was. They thought all of the Four Realms' greatest defenders had left.
They intended to crack the shell, and attack home. Unfortunately for them, I was here. Doubly unfortunately for them, we had our own Shadow, and Morgan would not play nicely. Not that anyone was playing nicely at this point, but it was high time to let Morgan off the leash a bit.
After another moment of stretching, my shoulders and back popping pleasantly, I looked over at the Rival as he napped in his chair, a book draped over his face. I watched him for a moment, smiling to myself. He hadn't budged an inch. It wasn't all selflessness that had kept him here, but I appreciated it all the same.
"Morgan," I said softly, careful not to wake him.
On cue, the Shadow appeared. Morgan stepped out of the corner, spidery limbs tapping against the stone floor, eight eyes watching me unblinking. I met its gaze, hands folded in my lap, anticipation rolling off of Morgan in waves. I hadn’t ever seen it like this, this eager to be let off the chain and go do something. It made me worried, honestly, but I had already made my decision.
"Go do what you want," I said, cocking my head to the side. "Why are you still here?" Morgan stared at me unblinking for but a moment longer. Then it smiled. A terrible, awful, evil smile that bared its far too many teeth, eyes shining with a malicious glee.
"Finally," it breathed, and promptly vanished. I sighed heavily, surprised at how easy it was to give that permission.
"Y'know," the Rival muttered, face still hidden by his book. "I could help. You just have to ask."
"You know I'd never do that," I chided softly, folding my hands into the sleeves of my robes and flexing my legs, as I had been sitting for far too long. "I'd never ask you to do anything like that."
"What's the difference between letting someone off the leash and asking? The results are the same." he asked, lifting his book to fix me with a deadpan stare. His eyes were different. They glowed with a fell red light for but a moment, and then returned to his more natural color.
"That's easy. I never put you on a leash, and you wouldn't act unless I asked." I told him. He searched my face for a moment, then, with a satisfied grunt, leaned back in his chair and put his book back over his face.
"I'm going to take a nap now that you're up." he announced. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do while I'm asleep."
"So you mean everything's free reign?" I asked. He gave me a thumbs up, and I chuckled, stretching a little, my shoulders popping. Right. I still had to focus on keeping the weight of the One World off the assault team and recovering as much as possible so I could go aid them but...I could afford to put on a little show.
***
Morgan, for once, did not go alone. It stalked through the Hidden Realm to the very edges of the universe, its creations moving behind it. Better yet, one of its first pawns, now no longer under its command, walked with it.
Thyia, the goddess of Catastrophe and Sacrifice, stalked the enemy beside it. She was not Morgan's anymore, and never would be. But times had made allies of them all - had made even the foreign, false idols understand the strength of the Heavens, those with even a bare minimum of intelligence knowing that allying with the Great One and Their children was the correct option. Morgan grinned savagely, baring teeth, its blood singing through its veins as for the first time in a long, long time, it was truly allowed to do as it wished.
"How did you even find them?" Thyia asked as she trudged along, the strongest Arachaeon and the devil cultivators Morgan had personally raised trailing behind her, dressed for war.
"I have my ways," Morgan chuckled. In truth, it had never lost them. During the battle, it had left a piece of itself on the strong one, Alala, and the enemy general. It knew exactly where they were, and had been digging this tunnel through reality specifically for just this occasion. Whether the Great One had given permission or not, this would have happened.
"And what's the plan, again?"
"Kill them all." Morgan cackled, spiderly limbs clacking against the tight walls of the narrow path. "Show them what a real Shadow looks like." Thyia's whips cracked in the air, black lightning lashing the walls as her domain exerted itself in the best way possible.
"How perfectly...catastrophic that would be to their plans." She mused with a cruel smile. Morgan cackled. Loathe as it was to admit it, it had missed having a goddess like her around; one that appreciated and enjoyed the darker, more dangerous things in existence. Like ruining the plans of another.
They spoke no further until they came to the end of the tunnel, where three of its most powerful Dimensional Creators, the beings that dug through reality to create the pathways of the Hidden Realm, had made a staging area for a preemptive strike upon the enemy forces. A night raid, if you will.
Morgan's forces filed out of the thin tunnel behind them, filling the space with their admittedly few numbers. But that was fine. This was a raid to decimate the enemy's upper ranks, targeting officers, and sewing chaos amongst the lower ranks. The more death, the better. Since it had eaten their god of death, it was about time it reminded them that death still existed.
"We are ready," Morgan announced, stepping up to look out the little peephole it had made, gazing at the army assembled on the other side. Now there was no longer any pretense that they were infected by the Rot. Mushrooms grew in massive quantities, some as tall as a mountain, red slime coating armor and giant siege weapons that were being rebuilt. That was likely why the Great One could not directly see the army, despite knowing they were close.
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The Rot still had the ability to be blinding, despite being a dumb fungus, but such was also where Morgan existed. It knew where and how to hide from the Great One's gaze, or at least how those who thought they could would think. The army had not run far. They regrouped in a large cavern just under the surface of the One World's inner chamber, a thick film of Rot covering the entrance to hide them from the Great One's gaze, while providing a clear view of the Four Realms and the broken afterlife of the One World.
Atreum usually stood there, looking out at the Four Realms with a furious expression. Alala was spending her time healing, and preparing for the second attack.
Just as before, they had only a mind for attacking, for getting the Authority back from the Great One. Ah, obsession was a frightening thing. Morgan chuckled to itself. At least, when it wasn't paired with intelligence to back it up it was merely frightening. Then it became truly terrifying.
"Let us go," Morgan said, and just like that, the raid began.
***
I watched through Morgan's eyes as what amounted to a night raid began. Now that I knew what to look for, thanks to Morgan pointing it out, I could see the layer of rot covering the hidden chamber as clear as day; tricks like that didn't work nearly as well when you knew what to look for. And I was learning to tell when something was blinding me; that was half the battle.
Now, however, I watched death descend upon the remaineder of Atreum's army. Though to say "what remained" truly didn't do justice to the sheer scale of the forces he had under his command; this was only what was left after the siege had been broken, yes, and the regiments scattered to the far corners of the One World. But there were still trillions of enemies, while Morgan's forces numbered only in the few thousands.
They poured out of the tiny tunnel Morgan had made like a locust swarm, sprinting through the camp, slaying any who spotted them and devouring the bodies just as quick, leaving no evidence behind. The violence was without discrimination; mortals were assassinated just as easily as larger, closer to more divine beings.
Thyia's whips bound a goddess that appeared out of her tent, her hair red and slimy, and before she even had a chance to scream she was silenced entirely, black lightning frying her form. I didn’t close my eyes. This was the result of letting Morgan off the chain. The Aracheon proved just as devastatingly effective as they had during the devil cultivator's uprising against Alanna, tearing bodies apart and machines asunder, the obsession they became infected with only serving to fuel their bloodlust further. And the devil cultivators?
They twisted the obsession against the others, casting illusions to twist their minds and make them attack one another. Entire regiments began to attack other platoons, and soon the whole camp was in an uproar.
It didn't take long for Atreum to notice, but by that time it was too late. Morgan had already found its target. Alala was rising when Morgan slipped into her tent, skin covered with that same sheen of rot that encompassed everything else. She rose, fist at the ready, and Morgan was upon her. Eight spidery limbs stabbed viciously, time slowing to a crawl and space warping, keeping anyone from coming to her aid. An entire section of the cavern was portioned off into sub-space, shredding a few war machines as they were caught in the cutting space, isolating them both.
"That was a mistake," Alala told Morgan as my Shadow gnawed upon her arm, teeth biting into flesh and letting golden blood flow down her forearm. Then she punched it, and Morgan's skull caved in.
Time stuttered, and Alala found her fist punching air, instead.
"Funny thing, time." Morgan drawled lazily, two feet away, tail thrashing and blood dripping from its teeth. "It cannot affect Origin Deities, but reminding myself a bit? That's no problem at all." Alala glared at Morgan, cracking her knuckles. Outside the dome, Atreum clashed with Thyia, the god of war quickly overwhelming her - but not fast enough. Catastrophe was a terrifying domain, even if she was not the strongest goddess in the world.
Every time Atreum swung his sword, or deflected one of Thyia's attacks, it went catastrophically wrong, striking another being, cutting friendly gods in twain, slaughtering mortals, exploding supplies. Atreum's own strength was fighting against him, and Thyia was enjoying every moment despite being constantly on the back foot.
"Wrap it up, you damn dog!" Thyia cackled as devil cultivators started to explode themselves, some of the Aracheon going down in a swarm of magic. Those who were infected fought mindlessly, all thoughts of retreat fleeing their minds in favor of killing as many as possible, then exploding their cultivation bases in a final hurrah. Thyia was fighting on the retreat, now, practically fleeing back to the tunnel with the remainder of their strike forces, their duties done.
I protected the souls of those fallen, but Morgan was still busy. Alala had it in a headlock now, rot growing over her entire body. Morgan snarled, time twisting as it tried to escape, teleport itself back to a place in time where it hadn't been captured, but it was too late -
I had to admit. Morgan had turned into a fantastic actor. Even I had been fooled by its plan for a millisecond. Alala had no chance.
Morgan let Alala stick a mushroom down its throat, deliberately not destroying it in the bits of void it kept swirling about in its stomach, and instead let it latch onto its soul. Morgan howled in apparent agony, and Alala took a step back, satisfaction written all across her features. The rot spread its red roots deeper than it had anyone else from the Four Realms, deeper than Elvira, even, as it sought to corrupt and drive obsession into Morgan’s soul…and giving me a nice, good look at the process.
Morgan abruptly stopped howling, and began to laugh, the rot's roots failing to find purchase on it soul. It was already obsessed. It could not twist what was already twisted. Alala cocked her head to the side in confusion.
"Fool," it spat. "Did you really think that would work on me? Now I know exactly how to defeat you, brat," I knew Morgan was not speaking to Alala, but rather the fool that tried to corrupt it. I, myself, smiled unpleasantly as Morgan leapt forth, a few drops of Alala's own blood bubbling into the tips of Morgan's spider-like legs as it pierced forward, digging into her chest - Morgan was immediately punished, but the damage was done.
Even as Morgan was sent hurtling away from a knee strike, Alala's body stiffened, bound, however momentarily, by the same magic that had bound me. Her own corrupted blood and power, working against her.
And I moved.
"There we are," I muttered, my Hand reaching across space and time and reality, my will grabbing hold of Alala's soul and the rot that clung to it and giving it a single, sharp tug.
Alala screamed as the Rot was shaken loose, for just a moment. She looked up, eyes lucid, though she didn’t have much time. Her expression firmed. And she promptly punched herself hard enough in the face reality shattered like shards of glass. The barrier of space and time fell apart from the shockwave alone, blood dribbling down Alala's face as she stumbled forward to fall to the ground, unconscious.
"Grab her!" I shouted, but Morgan was already moving. It stabbed its limbs into her arms and legs, cackling as it leapt into the fray, Atreum himself descending upon Morgan with bloody sword drawn.
He descended.
And descended.
And descended.
And descended, never reaching his target, caught in a bubble of frozen time.
Morgan teleported past, jaws snapping at everything that got in the way.
"This is a real Shadow!" Morgan taunted as it charged into the tunnel it had made, its forces already fled or dead, Thyia holding the line and dropping back the moment it was through. "I show you what you lack! You have eyes, but cannot behold the heights of the Heavens!"
Atreum tried to follow into the tunnel. He did, along with a number of his forces, but Morgan was no fool and neither was I.
The tunnel collapsed atop them once a sufficient number was inside, reality shuddering and squishing every being that had entered save the divinities. Atreum stood in the center of the carnage, bleeding and howling his unending rage to the skies, his armor cracked from the sheer force of the implosion. Just as I was about to turn away, satisfied that the raid was over and far more successful than I could have hoped, something else snagged my attention.
A message. Curie was sending a message to Morgan. I intercepted it.
{[Congratulations! You have completed the hidden objective [Capture Alala.]
Title: [Shadow of the Four Realms] earned.
Title: [Origin’s Bane] earned.
Please select a reward.]}
I frowned at the message, examining the three “rewards” Curie was offering. None of which would actually interest Morgan, but one of which included a shard of Curie’s own divinity. My frown deepened.
“Curie, no.” I said firmly, shaking my head and sending the message back to her. It was like throwing a ball her way, a ball that was caught by a messenger pigeon and flown back to its origin. It carried my words and intent, too. “We’ll work on your…system, later. But I don’t want you offering rewards to my children. You can acknowledge what they’ve done with those title things, but let’s hold off on ‘rewards.’” It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Curie, I just…didn’t trust Curie or any of the Oshun sisters at the moment. Plus, Morgan would probably take issue with being talked to by another Origin. Especially since it seemed intent on feeding me their powers.
Which would be another problem to deal with. One I had to handle properly.
I turned away from those issues and the fighting, finally, despite knowing Morgan’s capture would need to be dealt with immediately. Instead, I turned my attention to the Four Realms itself. I knew how the Rot worked now, on a level I had been unable to divine before, thanks to Morgan.
And with my sight, I would root out every spore and burn it out of existence, until reality itself forgot it ever existed. Every inch of it would be destroyed.
Such was my rage.
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