Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God

by Brian McGoldrick

  I give Wendell a one-finger salute. “I came here to get the fuck off this shit hole world, once and for ever. I'm not surrendering. I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I won't hesitate to kill you all. Can your pride deal with me being effectively exiled from Earth?”

  Wendell's mask is broken, his confusion is as plain as his fear. He glances down toward the wall of the pit for a moment. “How do you plan to leave the Earth?”

  “There should be a gate here somewhere. It will take me to another world, a different universe. You won't ever see me again, and I would suggest you destroy the gate after I'm gone. If you don't you might get more people coming to find out what happened to this group.”

  Wendell frowns. “One of them disappeared through an arch in an alcove below. There was a shimmering silver energy field in the arch, when he walked into it. Afterward, there was nothing buat but a solid wall behind the arch.”

  “He'll bring reinforcements.”

  “Not necessarily.” The voice coming from the open air behind me is one that I did not expect to hear on Earth.

  Wendell's jaw is hanging open, as he stares. Urehara-sensei has a frown, and a hint of fear is visible in his eyes.

  I do not have to look to know who it is. “What the fuck are you doing on Earth?”

  An amused chuckle fills the pit. “You are as brazen and as rude as ever. I am still more interested in you than in any of the others. Actually managing to use the Od in that fragile body, you are truly a marvel to behold.”

  “You two can stop staring. He's nothing but an arrogant fuck of a self-proclaimed god.”

  The Nameless' laughter booms out, filling the building with its echoes.

  *** The Lands of Despair ***

  The Great Fuck Over Day 2

  The Masters threw me out, they cast me into the Battleground of the Damned. I was not interesting to watch in the gladiatorial pits, no one and nothing they threw against me lived. I had been champion for too long. So many wanted to see me crippled and killed; that DokkAlfar cunt had me dropped off the Great Citadel as a spectacle for them, but I survived.

  Nothing in the Battleground of Slaves was a challenge, and I took what I wanted. Most who challenged me, I killed. They all died badly. A few I left alive, cripple and maimed, so the rest of the weak would learn to not challenge me. I tortured and impaled any that I did not maim and cripple.

  No one was my match until I met him. That damned human beat me, but did not kill me, did not cripple me, did not maim me. Did he dare to think that he did not need to fear me? Did he dare to think I was so far beneath his notice?

  I ran from him. I had never run from anything. Not from gladiators. Not from the Masters. I faced everything and beat it or endured it. Only that old human made me afraid. His touch was enough to make my knees shake. How? Why?

  I went back determined to kill him or die. He beat me unconscious. I never stood a chance against him. Again he did not kill me. He waited until I was awake again.

  “You have an amazing body, but your hate and anger are blinding you. I will teach to control yourself and master your hate and anger. Then, I will teach you to fight. I am old, and I need to pass on my arts. You will be my successor, the only master of Shadow Fist.”

  Talon woke from the dream sweating, his head throbbing from an agonizing headache. Cradling his head in his hands, he tried to sort out his mind from the original Talon's. The brutal impact of the original Talon's memories were even greater than when he was first dumped into the original Talon's body. The depth of the detail and the feeling of personally experiencing them was blurring the boundary between the original Talon and himself. I might go insane for real, if I do not come to terms with his past.

  There was some light in the hole, and brighter light was visible at its mouth. It must be morning or daybreak at the very least.

  “You are different from the others I brought here.”

  Hearing that voice right next to him, Talon surged to his feet, slamming his head against the stone roof of the tunnel. It made the pain, from the headache he already had, flare to epic proportions.

  “Shit! That fucking hurts!” His shouting only made the pain still worse. He lowered his voice. “What do you want with me now, Nameless Bastard?”

  Calling a self-proclaimed God a bastard is probably not the smartest move, but Talon's anger overrode his common sense. Even though he would hate admitting it, he was scared too. He did not understand what was happening and needed to lash out at something. This Nameless God was just a convenient target for his anger, since he claimed to be responsible for everything.

  “That could be considered blasphemy. You should be thankful that I am a kind and compassionate God.” His voice had the same hint of wry amusement that it did in the Chamber of Transition.

  Was that real, or was it a dream or illusion created by The Nameless God?

  Without an apparent care in the world, The Nameless God sat in the tunnel, while Talon appraised him. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of the hole, his robe appeared to be woven from coarse brown wool. He had an iron-shod staff laid across his knees, and his hand resting on the staff could have belonged to someone anywhere between twenty and fifty. No matter how Talon tried to change his line of sight, he could not see into the hood. All that was visible were his mouth and chin, everything past his upper lip was completely hidden in darkness. His mouth and square jaw were framed by a close cut salt & pepper beard. His lips were wearing twisted smile, as though he was laughing at a sick joke. He had a lean rangy build, and looked to be about six feet tall at the time. Though, after the way he appeared in the Chamber of Transition, Talon could not guess what his real height might be.

  “You are different from most people in your world, different from almost all of the people who played my game. Never once did you beg for help, or look for a group before attempting even the hardest of challenges. I know that for you the game was more of stress release than anything else, but you enjoyed the challenge of defeating everything you faced alone. Did you know that you are the only one ever to follow the complete character creation path?”

  “So what?” Talon's voice was surly.

  “So, you are the only person that was not desperate to get into the game to play with your friends, or to create and dominate a guild, or to become a crusader for some ephemeral justice, or some other equally pointless objective. You never sought out other people for any reason other than to acquire information or buy things. Though, you sometimes acted as mercenary, when others sought you out for your power, you never became a part of any of their groups. Maybe that is because, you have not a single person that you can call friend. After you were disfigured, your combat teacher was the closest thing you had to a friend, but neither of you think of the other as a friend. It was always a master and student relationship.”

  “How the hell do you know all this?”

  The Nameless laughed, without any apparent sarcasm or derision. He seemed honestly amused by what Talon said.

  “The VR rig that my followers created in your world has a special components to read the memories of the users, among other things. The entire purpose of Taereun: Battleground of the Damned was to find the people I would use to retrieve my body from beneath the city of Haven. You are one of those I have the most hope for. You did not cling to groups, relying on others, and always sought out more and more difficult challenges.”

  “So you came by this morning just to tell me that you're my fan? Big fucking deal.”

  The Nameless laughed again. “Do not misunderstand, I am not your fan by any means. You really are a pathetic excuse for human being, no matter how you look at it, but you are an angry, driven, vicious pathetic excuse for a human being. Those unpleasant qualities mean you might have a better chance to succeed than most of your fellow players.”

  “What if I just tell you to piss off?”

  The Nameless shrugged. “I have no use for you, if you do not serve my purposes, and of course, you will die when your
time runs out.”

  Assuming this asshole is telling the truth, he has us by the balls and he knows it. Either, we play his game, or we die. Do we dare to risk not playing his game? I do not want to die, but I hate the thought of being used by him.

  “You've really fucked us over, so I'll probably be forced to help you in the end. Tell me the secret behind Talon's abilities, otherwise you're just throwing me away. I'll think about helping you, once I know how to use them.”

  The Nameless smiled. “You are surprisingly rational, for all the anger you keep inside yourself. Most people do not make rational choices when they are angry.”

  “Anyone ever tell you, that you really don't sound like a fantasy world's God?”

  The Nameless started to chuckle, but it evolved into full-throated laughter. “Fantasy world is an interesting term, but this is just another world. There is no fantasy involved. Also, I am not from this world. I became a God after acquiring Power here, not before. No Gods are of Taereun, no matter the lies they may tell. Some attained godhood here and others were already Gods when they arrived.”

  “So, what's the secret of Talon's abilities.”

  “You do not give up. I will give a clue to understanding Talon's abilities. You are not like the others, the key to the using Talon's Power does not lie in the body you inhabit, but in your own soul. Talon became a monk, like his teacher, and mastered Shadow Fist. He learned to use Od, that is not a thing of the physical body or the mind, like an adept, wielder, caster, or even a medium. He crossed a line and his soul was forever changed. You need to understand the training of Tae Sun just as Talon did, and you can cross that line. Very simple in concept, but can you succeed?” The Nameless gives the impression that his unseen eyes are boring holes through me.

  “That could take longer than I have left to live.”

  The Nameless frowned. “Should that be the case, then I was wrong about you. I will return. If you master Shadow Fist, that is.”

  When Talon blinked, the Nameless disappeared, as though he was never there to begin with.

  *** North Dakota - Earth ***

  December 27, 2077

  I am still hurt, but I can move more or less normally. Forcing myself to my feet, I keep my expression blank, so that Wendell does not get an idea of how weak I really am at the moment, and turn around. Crossing my arms and resting them on the railing, as I lean forward, I stare at The Nameless.

  Floating in midair, The Nameless is wearing the brown robes instead of the grey leathers, but the ever present iron-shod staff is in his hand. His lips are twisted into a self-satisfied smirk, and the hood is facing my direction, so I can assume he is looking at me.

  “Well? Why are you here this time?”

  “I am touched by your single-minded efforts to get back to the Labyrinth of Yggr, so I have come to help you.”

  My eyes are drawn to the pattern-marked cube behind him. “Yeah, right. So this thing is how you fucked us over. What is it?”

  The Nameless chuckles. “This? It is just something that should have been destroyed long long ago, but luckily, it was not. Though, how it ever wound up on this pathetic little world, in this pathetic little multiverse, that I may never know. Besides, if you are so ardently trying to return, you should be thanking me for introducing you to such a wonderful new multiverse.”

  “Then, Earth and Taereun aren't part of the same multiverse?”

  “Of course not, do you think these pathetic little FBI agents could have ever defeated my priests with simple guns, if I could have properly given them my Power?”

  Down below, seven of the priests are kneeling on the ground, with their hands zip-tied behind their backs. The rest are corpses, except for Beard, who apparently escaped.

  “If Earth is such a pissant place, why are you here now?”

  The Nameless smiles broadly. “To collect one last harvest, before taking the cube and casting this world aside.”

  I laugh. I laugh so hard, my stomach hurts. “Hey, Wendell. This god is about to create another incident, that you won't be able to solve. You won't even have any evidence when he's done.”

  When Wendell does not say anything, I look over my shoulder. He is just staring at The Nameless with a mixture of fear, anger and hate. Urehara-sensei still has his frown, and his fear is more pronounced than before. Come to think of it, Clarence and the surviving FBI agents are just staring up in awe and fear too.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “You could probably be considered insane. Your mind is broken, and you do not feel fear the same that others do. Theirs is what could be considered a far more natural reaction to the presence of a God.”

  I am confused. “The time you gave us the big fuck you, everyone was acting normally. At least, I guess you could call it normal for gamers.”

  “That was just a dream state. I was not really there, not like I am now.”

  The cube starts to hum, and brilliant silver-white light fills the pit. There is no point in trying to stop it. I already know I cannot hurt him, at least not yet. Besides, do I really care what happens to anyone else?

  “How many are you going to take this time?”

  “A bit over a million, with another twelve million odd souls being converted into the energy to transfer them.”

  “And the gate?”

  “I will leave it open for a little while. Just be sure to use it soon. I hope to you soon, Brand.” The Nameless smiles and disappears. The cube and the seven priests disappear at the same time, leaving just some zip-ties on the ground along with the corpses.

  MOTHERFUCKER! How did that piece of shit know the new name I am going use? I never said it out loud even once.

  A ring-tone sounds, and Wendell takes out a phone and answers it.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I cannot make out the words, but I can still hear the distorted screaming voice from the other end.

  “You look rather pensive.” Urehara-sensei leans against the railing next to me, staring out over the now empty pit.

  “That self-proclaimed, two-bit, lying, fucking piece of shit god is still playing me.” I feel tired. I do not know how I am going to turn the tables on him, but one day I am going to fuck that god over royally.

  “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.” Wendell hangs up the phone. “People have started dying, or more accurately, they have died, and others have started reporting their deaths.”

  Return

  *** North Dakota - Earth ***

  December 27, 2077

  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  The sound is coming from an alcove in the wall behind the stairway we are on. Urehara-sensei, Wendell, and I look at each other and start moving down the stairs.

  Clarence and the other FBI agents meet us at the alcove, everyone looking at the information terminal. Wendell moves to the terminal and hits a key, connecting to the incoming call.

  “J'Rome, what the hell are you ...” A man of Latino descent stares at Wendell, with his mouth hanging slightly open.

  Wendell smiles. “Senator Gutierrez, how interesting to see you contacting this place.”

  It appears Wendell was right about the Congressional oversight. Senator Gutierrez is a California Senator, one known to be very tight with the Party Chairman.

  “That terminal is in a classified military site. What are you doing there Special Agent?”

  “Tracking down the source of the single largest mass murder incident in the history of the world. My partner, Special Agent Jones, no relation, and I will be coming to see you tomorrow. I strongly suggest you make yourself available at your offices.”

  The Senator pales, before his face turns red. “I'll see you terminated and locked away in a military prison, Special Agent.”

  Wendell smiles, and the Senator cuts the connection.

  Clarence has an expectant look on his face. “Will the Senator be a target for Sanctioning, Special Agent Jones.”

  “Once we have every last piece of information he p
ossesses, he will be a target for Sanction, Special Agent Jones.”

  I move to a corner of the room, and Urehara-sensei follows me.

  “I need to meditate for a time, before we use that portal, Sensei. I still have a lot more internal damage than I want the FBI to be aware of.”

  “I will make sure you are not disturbed.”

  “Thank you, Sensei.” I sit down, in the lotus position, and enter a deep trance. The ki flooding my body accelerates my metabolic functions, increasing my natural rate of healing, while at the same permeating my damaged organs and continuing the process of repairing the damage done by the Od. It is not as painful as using the Od, but the healing still stimulates the remaining pain.

  Once the worst of the worst damage has been corrected, I stand up. There is still damage, so I will need to exercise some care, but the potentially life-threatening damage has been dealt with.

  Urehara-sensei glances at me, before returning his attention to the FBI. An underground room extends on the opposite end of the pit from the obsidian block and the spell formations. Perhaps a hundred feet long and thirty wide, it is filled with racks of computers. All the agents are in the room, either hunched over the terminals that are scattered around the room or talking on cell phones.

  “Are you better now?”

  I shrug and start walking toward the FBI. “More or less. I still need to deal some of the lingering effects of what I did, but that can be tended to in the Labyrinth.”

  Stopping at the entry to the room, I look around. Most of the visible displays appear to have status information, but I cannot identify what it is for. One large monitor has a map of North America, with countless red dots showing. In the area of major cities, the dots are so dense that they become swaths of red.