Thomas woke up, and had a headache that split him down the middle. There was only a resounding pain that hurt everywhere, and he slowly opened his eyes.
Only to see a floating man with gray skin that was an inch from his face. Thomas, on instinct, swiped at him with a claw.
A claw. The man dispersed into purple-pink smoke, reconstituted, and just kept staring at Thomas.
“Well, hello. Not quite the response I was hoping to get after the vision I just gave. Rude, even.” he chided, tut-tutting with his finger at Thomas while shaking his head.
“Wh-Wh-Who…” his voice growled out of a throat that made no such sounds, and the headache redoubled. His tongue felt simultaneously too big and too small. His throat constricted and more formed for booming roars as even the little he had said was too much for him and grew into a growl.
“You will find it hard to speak normally, if at all, as you are in a state of -- well change at the moment.” replied the ghost-like man. He seemed bemused at this, hiding a laugh behind his hand as he watched Thomas take the information in. Then, a screen.
[HERO -- UNKNOWN]
[GESTATION PERIOD -- UNKNOWN]
[WELCOME TO --]
[LET CRY THE HEART AND BEAT AMONG THE STARS]
His chest rose and fell and he raised his hands to his face. The skin was smooth like porcelain with lines like you’d see on a circuit board coursing around in straights and curves. His forearms were massive things connected to near-sticks by comparison to the rest of his body. His hands were also massive, and seemed set with jewels were the knuckles were.
He touched his face, and that -- too -- was smooth. A mask.
“I’m glad you arrived when you did, caused quite a stir in the other two continents. They’re going to be running around with their heads on fire for weeks! Great head start.” nodded the ghost man, his ephemeral tail that terminated his legs bobbed.
“Wh-where?” asked Thomas, realizing he couldn’t move his mouth.
“Your telepathy is good, so far. Hm, hold on.” he appeared on top of him, smacking his head with dull thumps.
[Sk-SKIll-SKILLS - ACTIVATED]
[MIND CAST]
[DISCIPLE OF THE LAST]
[MODE (00)]
“Ah, don’t have all of it but your close enough.” he shrugged, “Seems you’re going to --”
[SKILL GAINED!]
[INTRUSION OF THE UNKNOWN] - [GAINED]
“Hm, yes, seems to finally have come in. That’s the one I died for, you know. We didn’t have the fancy summoning crystals given by the gods, had to make those ourselves. Though I’m sure one of the [REDACTED] four probably had a hand, not that I want to give them any credit.” he shrugged.
“WHO ARE YOU?” Thomas, finally grasping that his mind was the conduit for speech, screamed in his head. The ghost closed his eyes in pain and flinched back.
“No need to shout -- it’s only you and me at the bottom of this place. To answer I am your guide. See that [DISCIPLE OF THE LAST] skill? That’s me. I’m the master, at least as far as the skill is concerned.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” demanded Thomas.
“I’m talking about this.” he summoned, through magic (apparently) a mirror sheen surface that revealed to Thomas his transformation.
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He was a thing of smooth surfaces, and formed like a porcelain doll in many ways. There were beads or perhaps hard lenses that made up his eyes, a line with nearly-carved slits for his mouth, and three beads set into his head for that were connected with that same computer board-like lines. His head seemed a mask and his hands looked ridiculously, near cartoonishly, large in comparison to his arms while his legs terminated into toeless shoe-like feet.
“What h… has happened to me?” he touched the mask, disbelief clouding his mind as he tried to claw away the face as if that would somehow work. It was stuck, stuck to his face -- or more accurately it was his face. He stumbled back, falling and sitting, shocked.
“This is you, [HERO]! You are here from the realm of the breach, the place where the first [HERO]s were brought -- and from where the land became tainted by [REDACTED].” The ghost dismissed the mirror, his ears bobbing with confidence that reinforced his blase attitude.
“Of the other [HERO]s, they will probably be eased into this much more -- you do not have that luxury (obviously). You are in this and cannot leave -- there is no leaving this. For whatever reason you were shifted away from your reality. The ritual chose you and you alone from all those that live on your planet. Is there a reason that you can think of for such a thing? Why it would choose you out of everyone? It may help you get through the… shock of the transformation.” The tattered-robe ghost explained, almost with a bored tone as if he were expecting this or had done it before.
“I--I…”
“I don’t really have time for you to faff about with this existential crisis. Been there, done that. To answer your first question, by the way, I am Guiro the Exile -- bit of a misnomer there since I never left but it stuck. Anyway, you might want to leave this crater, those of the caves will come here soon. Y’know -- savages and such.”
“Wha --?”
“Ah! And there they are!” he pointed and sure enough, round eyes full of malice peaked over the crater with chipped swords and long claws.
“Viscious little fucks, though they probably won’t attack right away. They’re gonna go back to their hovels.” he spat at them, but it was the same material as he was and just landed on the ground. He looked at the dispersing ethereal substance and shook his head in disappointment.
“What do I do?” Thomas asked, and the guy shrugged -- pointing to the tip of the crater. “You should probably get out of here. This island is usually locked from anyone arriving, but you are a bit of a special case. Just start walking.”
“Why have you done this to me?” Thomas gesticulated.
“The system of the [REDACTED] di--”
“Why is everything you say keep having parts of it [REDACTED]?”
“Ah, probably interference from the thing itself. Anyway -- look! They’re coming in hot!”
Soon, over the crest of the crater, came a cavalcade of monstrous pale little things. They stood on the edge and looked down with glossy beads for eyes and held their chipped weapons of aged iron and stone.
“Shit.” was all Thomas could say before they descended.
“Little buggers taking our land. Well, we’re not here anymore so I can’t really blame them too much.” Guiro said nonchalantly as Thomas nearly hyperventilated. Soon enough one began to descend, another, another -- and then it was an avalanche of pale gray bodies and boggling eyes and too many teeth.
“I would advise you to run, if you can.” Guiro pointed to the other side, the ‘cave creatures’ not completely encircling him yet and making a clearing at the other end where they still tried to catch up to the others. The creatures were already halfway before Thomas started to book it, deciding that he would rather not test the desire of the little bloodthirsty critters.
One, a thing of exaggerated musculature contrasting with bone-thin ribs and gaunt hollow cheeks, tumbled behind and gave a slash at the back of Thomas with a rusted cleaver that gave an echoing ‘CLANG!’ as it chipped even further and cracked along its length. The creature kept at it, slashing over and over at Thomas as he kept running away from them as the wave of tiny bodies began to enclose on him.
His breath was caught in his chest, he was pretty sure he was hyperventilating, and his feet seemed to gain him further and further ground while he climbed the lazy ascent of the craters angle.
Soon a cave creature had managed to not only catch up from behind, but in front. He tried to expand himself enough, through arms held out by his sides, to ‘catch’ him.
“I’m not sure how you do it from where you’re from, but I would --”
Thomas punched the creature in the face, causing his head to explode like a grape smashed with a hammer.
“Yeah that just about does it.” Guiro nodded.
Thomas didn’t slow, the bigger one still behind and now batting him with his fists and (Thomas was pretty sure) crafting a nice bruise for him to not be able to lie down later on. The other ‘cave creatures’, however, took pause in the descent -- but soon enough the rest of the screaming waves behind had managed to sprint over and ignore the gruesome death of their comrade.
Meanwhile Thomas was having his crisis of being with his complete destruction of that things -- well -- existence, while completely incapable of thinking about the swarming horde of (essentialy) goblins that were coming at him.
“They’re not goblins. Goblins just pillage and probably rape and kill you -- these are worse.” Guiro heard his thoughts and responded as if in the midst of conversation.
Thomas began to run faster.