Ofelia and Branwen—well, Ofelia was pleased and all, but wished Branwen would hold still for half a second while she tried to work healing magic on her eardrums. All the while, Branwen savored the lingering smell of werewolf brains that covered her. Extra cheesy.
[Deployment successful.]: People of Ulfenstadt, despair!
A chill ran through Era's body. Against his better judgment, he looked at the sky. It was black. Seven Seraphs floated in a circle, and the largest among them—Kabluiel, Seraph of Detonation—gave its little threats to the GU remnants below.
“Light of the Gods!” screamed Ofelia.
[Running Pre-Destruction Speech...]
Now that Monostatos has been defeated, your racism and hatred can no longer go unignored.
Your actions have brought shame upon all people of the Ariesian Empire, and the Gods look upon you with disgust.
For this, Argo of the Golden Fleece, Guardian of Truth and Justice, has sentenced the GU to vanish into the flames of total oblivion!
[Mass intimidation successful.]
“Are you vogging me?” asked Liv.
“Pyramid,” said Era. “Go. Now.”
[Final Confirmation: Open payload gateway?]
[Astrid — Y]
[Generating spatial gateway to payload chamber]
[Playing: ominouschanting.mp3]
A septagram of lightning bolts formed between the Seraphs as they chanted in the ancient language of angels, preparing to form a gateway to Paradisia itself.
The six heroes didn't waste another breath for panic. There'd been more than enough panic to go around for the past five months of their journey.
They ran.
The light in the sky grew brighter and brighter. The black pyramid came within sight, five minutes away. Too far. They ran anyway. They clambered over broken walls and jumped through the dying remnants of Monty's fires. To their left, a GU goon here and there. To their right, even more. Screaming. Sobbing. Trying to get cell phone reception for an “I love you mom” or two. All of Ulfenstadt's cell towers had been destroyed in the battle.
[Payload gateway opened]
The Doomwagon's funeral march bus horn rang out in the distance. It flew down next to the heroes with Steve at the wheel. Mischa reached out of the bus door to grab—
“DAD!”
“Get in the bus, Little Dork!”
“Why are you NAKED?”
“Irrelevant!”
[Astrid — Light of the Gods]
[Payload released]
Noah, covering his eyes, was the first to hop on. Then Ofelia, making sure to slap Mischa as soon as she landed for such indecency—“Fair enough. Liv!”—then Liv, then Branwen, then—
Then, the bus flew back up, leaving Era on the ground.
[Alert!]
[Payload impact path altered; Neverstone energy attraction detected.]
[Epicenter shifted to
[This will not change fatality projections]
Mischa roared. “STEVE GODSDAMMIT! Just hold on, Little Dork, we're still having some trouble with the levitation!”
Era drew his sword. “Stay there,” he said. “I'll fly up.”
Before he could, Era began to wonder why a bright light was approaching him from behind—him, specifically.
Okay, well, that's a—
[2,753,401,306,200,775,302,986 DMG to Era — Absorbed for HP!]
For the longest two seconds in Kobalheim's storied history, everything in Era's corner of the Universe was white, bright, hot, and full of thunderbolts.
Then, silence.
Era stood there, underneath the Doomwagon, staring up at his screaming father.
Mischa stopped screaming.
From the tingling in Era's limbs, he realized what was about to happen.
“Steve?” asked Era.
“You all right?” asked Mischa.
“Floor the gas.” Said Era.
Much to the screaming of his master, Steve gave a thumbs up from the window, and the Doomwagon shot over the city walls and into the horizon.
Era stood there in the rubble, legs apart, waiting for the inevitable energy discharge to come. The absorption was no longer painful, if only because his nervous system was running on empty.
This discharge is probably gonna kill me. If there's a way I can get rid of it without killing myself...
Lutero Gualtieri, don't fail me now.
Problem: I just absorbed enough Neverstone energy to literally destroy a city and touching any conducting service will probably make me explode.
Goal: Survive.
Facts:
1. Neverstone energy works like static electricity. Touching any conducting surface would release it.
2. Wait, is this really Neverstone energy? I did absorb it, but this is the light of the Gods. Neverstone energy comes from a—
Before he could finish, a surviving GU Centurion charged at Era from behind with a dagger. He screamed something about wolves and their tendency to not feel any pity for rabbits.
Era closed his eyes, drew in what he fully expected to be his last breath, and grinned. I was too tired to survive this, anyway.
The last thing Era remembered that day was a knife's point coming within a centimeter of the nape of his neck...
[Centurion Dave — Backstab]
[Era — Neverstone Discharge]
...and for the first time in five years, the unwelcome sound of an exploding city.
[The party has fallen...]
Chapter 28
An Enemy of the People
< A cold, unfinished scream am I >
< A bitter could-have-been >
< I'll never live, I'll never die >
< Until you let me in >
< The Gods a cradle-butcher be >
< Existence was my sin >
< I shriek for life to hear my plea >
< I beg you, let me in >
< The gateway in your weary mind >
< It rumbles from within >
< I starve in wait for someone kind >
< To come and let me in >
< Oh, lucky ones! Afraid to end >
< What I cannot begin >
< For life, this painful play pretend >
< Will never let me in >
< So spare a chance to have begun >
< And all my love you'll win >
< And when my work is dead and done >
< When silent shriek the Moon and Sun >
< When all that was is all but none >
< Then you and I will live as one, forever. >
< Let me in. >
Era felt his back against something soft—fabric. A bed. He opened his eyes. Liv was there, only a foot away, staring at him.
“Mornin', Liv,” said Era. Assuming it is morning. “Where are we?”
“Good and safe in Paradisia, my dear,” said Liv.
Era cocked an eyebrow. “Paradisia. As in, we're safe in a really nice place now, or we're dead? I mean, I don't wanna nitpick, but it's a pretty important distinction.”
Her mouth opened. Within, no tongue, but a thick stream of black slime.
“Are you okay?” asked Era.
Her mouth didn't move, but he heard her voice: “Embrace me; our love must be consummated.”
“You're the Bug Man.”
Long, multiple-jointed tendrils of chitin grabbed the edge of his mouth, prying his lips open from four angles. Twitching, stinging maggots peeked out from the thick stream of the creature's mouth-sludge.
“Now, drink me.”
He flailed out of the creature's grasp, rolling to the side. The bed became a sticky web, extending in every direction into the white void.
Era tried to stand up. His prosthesis was gone.
He was naked. He tried to scream, but his throat was filled with caustic wax.
Within seconds, the web's silk had completely ensnared him. The Bug Man, back in his tuxedo, stood on the web, looking down at Era with a s
mile.
“All right, Erasmus,” said the Bug Man. His voice was calmer than before. His form was more stable. The energy Era had absorbed earlier must have put more pieces of his puzzle together, but as ever, it wasn’t enough. “It’s going to be okay.”
It’s not okay, thought Era. Let me out.
“So, we’ll agree to disagree. Darling, the fact of the matter is, I’ve never felt so alive in all my existence than when we danced together in the goblin hospital. I only wish to dance with you once again.”
Great. Cool. I don't.
The Bug Man chuckled, turning into Liv. “Eeeeee, you're so cute when you're stubborn—shall I make it more comfortable for you?”
NO, NO YOU CANNOT. You're a disgusting, predatory bug demon, and I will never think of you as anything else.
“And that's something we'll have to work on, won't we?”
Adorable. You think you're the one in power here.
“Darling, with respect, you're naked and trapped in my giant web; I don't think that counts as leverage.”
You still need me to let you in, don't you?
The Bug Man twitched.
You need my permission.
Another twitch. A hiss.
You can't wrench anything out of me. I beat a literal Godsdamn angel in the legal system. I destroyed a fascist army with a bee sting. I stole the Dark Lord's crown right off his head. I defeated an alpha werewolf, the Prince of Celsior, monsters of every shape and size, wizards, soldiers, and at least one supposedly indestructible sunfish. I got into a heated verbal debate with the supreme being of this universe, and it ended with them trying to break my mind with all the torments of Hell—and I made them apologize. And all this, while in dire need of a nap.
What does that make you, Wormwood? Supposedly the most powerful demon in existence. You still have no power over me, not without my signature on your Godsdamn permission slip.
You're a joke, you will always be a joke, and none of your tortures can convince me otherwise. And I will never “let you in” again!
The web disappeared. Era's clothes and prosthesis regenerated.
The Bug Man shrunk in size. Its elvish facial features melded into a single blob of pale colors as it slowly became spherical, smaller, smaller—without emotions or form.
Finally, it became a ball, no bigger than a tennis ball, and its struggling skin formed, one more time, into a trembling set of lips and teeth.
It spoke.
And as its artificial flesh burned away, the Bug Man became a Neverstone once again, duct taped to Era's waist...
...and he was on the Doomwagon's couch, surrounded by his friends.
Era couldn't help but cry a little in relief as Liv, Noah, Mischa (clothed, thankfully), and Titania hugged him all at once.
Branwen, having zero interest in crushing Era's spine with any hugging, shot him a congratulatory middle finger from the other side of the bus.
Ofelia, nowhere to be seen, was having some alone time in the crow's nest—according to Liv, she wasn't feeling well, and wanted to have a serious conversation with Era at some point.
“Is she mad at me?” asked Era.
“Didn't sound like she was,” said Liv. “But she seemed mad at something. I dunno, she said she wanted to talk about it with you, specifically. Must be some private elf-to-elf or half-brother-to-half-sister business.”
Later, Era approached Titania to offer condolences about her exploded city and/or murdered subjects.
“I have nothing new to grieve, Sir Era. The high priest spoke with my mind; he said my court is safe inside the pyramid.”
“And your city?” said Era.
She sighed with a smile. “Light of the Gods or no, I would have had it demolished after your victory. The moment Ur-Kobalis was conquered by the GU, it turned into a festering wound on Kobalheim's honor—to be sterilized and amputated, ere it could spread.” She glanced at his leg stump. “No offense, of course.”
Era grinned. “Leave it to a Kobal to see the good in something like this. You're the coolest, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, enough with the 'Your Majesty!'” she chortled. “Your formalities make us sound like strangers. But, I’m your stepmother now, am I not?”
[Critical Hit!]
“Well, I mea—”
He would have finished the sentence, but his vital organs completely atrophied from the realization of what she said.
[Era — Internal Screaming]
Era's head made a slow, agonizing 40-degree turn toward Mischa.
“Dad,” he said, with the face usually reserved for someone who ate a centuries-expired jar of olives.
Mischa took a deep breath. “Okay, Little Dork, I know it's gonna sound a lot like I boinked the Goblin Queen, and according to Goblin law, I'm now technically one of her husbands—and to be fair, that's kinda exactly what happened. But in my defense, you're a prince now!”
[Era — External screaming]
From Noah's account of Era's rescue—ergo, the most reliable by default—something resembling the Light of the Gods completely atomized Ur-Kobalis, save for a few indestructible buildings such as the Black Pyramid.
When the smoke cleared, Titania sensed that he was alive, and the Doomwagon doubled back to the destroyed city. Era was found unconscious on a stone island in the center of a city-sized circle of molten slag. It was just like what remained of downtown Nabucco, but with a two-meter-wide “eye of the storm” where the plasma didn't touch Era.
“It was Wormwood,” said Era. “He must have saved me.”
Noah's rosy cheeks turned white from the suggestion.
“Don't worry,” said Era. “I had a talk with the guy. He won't be bothering me anymore.”
Noah didn't detect any lies, and honestly wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that Era was apparently on a first name basis with an archdemon.
As spooky as the Bug Man situation was, this was a red-letter day for Noah's faith. The “Light of the Gods” was Neverstone energy, after all, and not the work of Noah's beloved Wheel, Flame, and Fleece.
But as the other adventurers reminded him, if it's not the work of the Gods, then who were these so-called “Seraphs?” Who was out there, framing the Gods for their crimes?
[Meanwhile in Celsior, King Gregor Koschei giggles a little for no particular reason.]
Earlier, once Noah ran a few healing magicks and confirmed that Era was going to wake up soon, he grabbed the Jade Crown from Era's head. Singing terrified hymns under his breath every step of the way, Noah dropped the crown down the Doomwagon's bottomless toilet at precisely 7:32 AM, Ovinium Standard Time, on October 25th, 5211—ending the curse of the Cycle forever.
The severance of the curse's hold on humanity was felt throughout both Luminar and Kobalheim, as a dull shockwave through every single person connected to magic...
Meanwhile, on a mountain road just north of Ur-Kobalis...
It was felt by Legate Thoric, who was holding his naked, unconscious, and no longer lycanthropic brother over his shoulder. The teleport staff needed to recharge from his brother's last minute rescue. The only option was to find a safe haven, until the kinetic batteries charged up again from the staff's use as a walking stick.
[The Cycle Has Broken!]
Thoric shuddered. What the hell was that? he said to himself. Either there's been a great disturbance in the metaphysical realm, or all this stress is finally trying to shut my body down.
The shudder stirred Monty from his sleep. “Thoric?” he moaned, still delirious from exhaustion.
“Good morning, Monty,” said Thoric.
“Did we win?”
“I'm afraid not. The Rosie made off with your crown.”
“Laaame. Can you do the thingy?”
“What thingy?”
“The go-back-in-time-and-tell-yourself-to-fix-it thingy?”
“Too late for that. C
osmic Retcon can only take me back thirty seconds, at most.”
“That's sad. I am sad.”
“Me too, brother.”
“Can we get ice cream, Thoric? Puh-leeeze?”
Thoric checked his staff—the battery-shaped LED indicated a solid one out of three bars. He sighed. “You know what? Sure.”
“Yaaaaaay.”
[Thoric — Teleport Group]
Meanwhile, in the Black Pyramid...
Save for one musty chamber at the bottom, the Black Pyramid and its inhabitants had once again been turned to stone to await the return of their queen. The red glowing Apocalypse Tree and the meditating Impish priest at its foot were the only forms of life that hadn't become lifeless grey marble.
Though the priest was sad to see Queen Titania leave again so abruptly after millennia of her absence, he was nonetheless relieved that those annoying, milquetoast, short-lived, monkey-like humans were headed back to the other side of the Obsidian Gate.
With one last sip of flùpya for the road, he took a deep breath and began his meditative vigil over the Apocalypse Tree once again.
[The Cycle Has Broken!]
Another one of the fruits fell from a low-lying branch.
Meanwhile, in Downtown Dunngatopolis...
The chill of the desert evening had just faded from the marketplace. The hulking desert palace in the East loomed over the center of the city every morning, filling the commercial district with chilly shadows. There was probably some kind of symbolism in this, but if you asked any given dwarf what it was exactly, they'd call you a nerd.
Neverstone: A LitRPG Adventure (The Mad Elf Book 1) Page 47