“My precious Little Gaea…” Having consumed the final dregs of his accumulated energy, the shade of Erasmus Lotus flickered like a candle. His face became a mask of frustration. The old man's ghost gnashed its teeth as the incorporeal form he had been reduced to dissipated, returned to nothing but a memory. Rather than receive a proper answer to his question, Alan watched as the world around him ended with a muted gasp. All at once, the vast expanse of grass, that insidious, blighted tree and the otherworldly sky looming above it all ceased to exist.
“Fucking typical, grade A bullshit!!" Alan raised his head and bellowed into the impenetrable darkness. Thin purple cracks spread outward from Alan's position, his thoughts became scrambled as the neon fissures pulsed with light and opened up into bottomless chasms that threatened to swallow him whole.
The last sensation he experienced before succumbing to an overwhelming bout of weariness was a cool breeze gusting through his disembodied soul. “Do not mourn my passing Alan Robbins of the Humans," Erasmus's voice started as barely more than a whisper, yet soon it rang out like the sanctified declaration of a God.
“Cursed System, bane of my progeny, bear witness to my final proclamation!" I pronounce that from henceforth, Alan Robbins, the child of my wayward children, is to be recognized as the sole beneficiary and heir apparent of my Lotus Sect. As the newest Patriarch, he, and he alone, is now responsible for the Cerath Labyrinth Outpost and all remaining Lotus Sect holdings."
A colossal pressure fell on Alan's spectral form, the weight of his new and undesired mantle threatening to grind him into a fine powder. He had an instinctive feeling that notifications were pouring in, yet in this reduced state, he was unable to gain access to them.
A sudden electric jolt surged through his mind, lighting up the darkness with a blinding golden radiance. Before he had a chance to react, a sudden burst of scalding hot sand crashed over him like an errant tidal wave. Crushed under an ungodly amount of pressure, Alan instinctively yelled out in shock, only to find the very desert itself forcing its way between his teeth.
All attempts at fighting back were futile. Before this unyielding storm, Alan was rendered helpless. Movement was all but impossible. Searing hot particles were grinding against his flesh, scrubbing free all surface layer impurities and replacing them with flakes of molten glass.
Alan tried to turn his sight inward in a last-ditch effort to mitigate the damage being wrought by these invasive particles, but his mind was in such disarray that he was left with little option but to endure. Unable to close his mouth, Alan fought back the urge to resist and inhaled with all of the force his compressed lungs could muster.
The last thing Alan heard was a faint chuckle, accompanied by Erasmus's final utterance. “I held little hope of its continued survival, yet it seems you have been accepted by the [Sandstorm Cloak]. Although peculiar and selective in its bond, it has always proven to be a crafty survivor and a valuable companion in times of need."
With those final words of guidance, the vision gradually faded away, leaving Alan standing alone beneath the tower, his palms flat against the cool stone surface. A pile of unseen notifications were flashing for his attention as he scoured his mind for an explanation as to how he'd wound up in this precarious situation. As far as he could tell, he possessed no memory of ever approaching the tower, let alone having touched it.
A glittering silver aura encircled his hands. As it brushed against the raw pink skin of his fingers, Alan eyes widened in shock. For a moment he was certain that whatever he had just experienced had scoured all of his scales off. However, all it took was a look at his freakish left hand to realize it was something else entirely. He couldn't say for certain whether or was done instinctively or on purpose, but it seemed safe to assume that at some point he had activated [Soulgem Cycle] and swapped Races.
Staring back at him was an all too familiar grotesque nightmare of a hand. Three elongated, aquamarine scale-plated fingers with far too many joints were splayed out over a ridiculously meaty thumb. Although all of his weapons had failed to leave even the most miniscule mark on the tower's pristine surface, his jet-black claws, like shards of darkness given form, were cutting into the wall as if it had no more durability than common chalk.
The aquamarine scales ended at his elbow, where a grisly-looking bone spike protruded through his flesh. A hesitant glance down was all it took for understanding to sink in. Everywhere he looked was bare skin. Aside from his arm there were no visible scales, just raw, hairless skin. A peek between his legs revealed that his dangly parts were back where they were supposed to be. He was going to need to find some pants.
His elation was ruined by a sudden rumbling underfoot. Clouds of glittering energy plumed from the tower like spores, filling the air around him like a mystical fog, shining with such brilliance that the breath was stolen from his lungs. It was plain enough to see that the source was the intricate runes etched into the walls. Once the origin of the tower's impenetrable defenses, they now sparked and fizzled. One by one, they fell dim. Basking in their diminishing glow, Alan tried to remove his hands from the tower only to discover he lacked the ability to move anything below his neck.
The air buzzed with a palpable feeling of anticipation, as if the fabric of all existence held its breath, in awe of what was soon to come.
Unfathomable torrents of energy were bombarding Alan's Core. As he fought to regain control of his mutinous body, countless transparent vortices materialized amidst the haze around him. A sonic boom split the air as they began to feast upon a treasure trove of ambient energy. Miniature tornados revolved around his body like conical satellites, intertwining in a mesmerizing dance as their rotations began to synchronize with the surging power that emanated from the tower.
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Alan watched with a mixture of awe and trepidation as hairline cracks spread across the tower's circular wall, originating from his fingertips. Shredded bits of his Class Armor were carried away on the breeze. No sooner had he noticed them, they began to disintegrate, reduced to a fine black mist that he was helpless to stop from rushing into the translucent tornados gyrating across his skin.
An intense pang of danger blared in his mind, seemingly coming from everything and everywhere all at once. Unable to react, time slowed to a crawl as Alan's Storage Case slammed into the side of his head. Subjected to the immense suction, the ancient leather housing for the dimensional storage space began to disintegrate into countless specks of shimmering brown light. The particles were instantly drawn into the voracious vortices, vanishing from sight.
Left behind was a pulsating orb of inky darkness. It managed to resist the pull for several heartbeats, but inevitably succumbed and was split into jet black tendrils of liquid night that were drawn through the airborne whirlpools. Unable to resist, Alan watched, heartbroken, as the isolated space and all of its hidden contents were siphoned into his tributaries and cycled through his Core. In that moment, it felt as though an explosion resonated within his being, shaking him down to his very soul. Alan would've screamed had he the ability to do so. The detonation of raw power was already threatening to tear him apart.
Despite Alan's urgings, his body remained frozen in place, locked in a struggle he lacked the capacity to understand, let alone influence. The universe seemed to care little for his concerns. Upping the stakes, the island began to quake beneath his feet. A harsh crack split the air as another concussive blast shook the tower's foundation.
Transfixed by the spectacle unfolding before him, Alan stood immobile as the tower succumbed to the insatiable pull of the vortices and began to crumble. Chunks of flat stone bigger than Plantain trees plummeted towards his head. Rather than smashing him to paste against the island, they disintegrated mid-air, breaking down into a chalk-like dust that hung suspended for a brief moment. The dust, imbued with the essence of the tower, was swiftly drawn into the rapidly expanding whirlpools and consumed by their unending hunger. Each fragment was broken down into its fundamental components. Alan could sense immense power flowing into him, flooding his Core and radiating outwards.
As the collapsing tower's debris dissipated into the vortices, the energy they contained intertwined with the molten silver celestial energy already flowing through Alan's Tributaries and Deltas. An alarmingly volatile reaction occurred. As the differing Celestial Energies began to coalesce, the resulting sludge began to spread throughout his vast network of channels, bubbling like thick tar while being drawn towards his Core like a milkshake through many undersized straws.
However, as the torrents of thick energy slurped towards his Core, Alan witnessed an unexpected development. Sensing the impending onslaught, the last remnants of his silver energy retreated, seeking sanctuary within his Realm Seed. Left deflated and unprotected, Alan's Tributaries and Deltas were suddenly being flooded with an unstable energy source. Unable to contain the overwhelming influx, they began to balloon outwards like overinflated bike tires, swelling to their limits, their lining stretched precariously thin.
With a horrific meaty explosion, Alan's Tributaries and Deltas ruptured, their fragile boundaries shattered. Alan's Core, now vulnerable and exposed, began to crackle under the strain. Black Celestial Energy poured through the ruptured apertures, cascading into his Core and blasting through the entrance of his Realm Seed with unrelenting force. The Realm Seed, overwhelmed by the deluge, struggled to assimilate the energy at the unmanageable pace it rushed in.
The metallic celestial whirlpool contained within his Core became a mesmerizing iridescent black, resembling a blender filled with liquified opal. Waves of agony threatened to tear him apart as this newfound energy coursed freely through his body, seeping into his organs. It felt as if he was melting and reforming simultaneously.
Heedless of his struggle, an ocean of energy continued to surge through Alan's body, each passing moment threatening to overwhelm his senses. Stunned by the sheer power coursing through him, he could only bear witness as the energy consumed everything in its path. Within his Core, the torrent of energy and matter clashed in an unending battle for supremacy. Unable to withstand such a chaotic and volatile fusion, intricate patterns of fissures began to spread across the inner wall of his Core. As the pressure increased, they branched out like spiderwebs. Alan knew it was only a matter of time before his Core collapsed entirely.
The density of his Celestial Energy was already both awe-inspiring and terrifying, and still it continued to accumulate. He didn't need the input of an ancient master to understand that his Core teetered on the precipice of shattering. Yet, despite the immense pressure, and his certainty that he was in over his head, Alan remained resolute, his determination to survive pushing back his doubts. All of Erasmus's hopes and regrets that had been imparted to him during his encounter with the ancient shade became a lifeline that anchored him to this precarious path.
Erasmus's words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the burden Alan carried, and the hopes that rested upon his shoulders. With every crack that spread across his core, he clung ever tighter to his resolve, refusing to succumb to the chaos unfolding within him.
A blinding burst of brilliance pierced through his eyelids. Through squinted eyes, Alan witnessed a beam of condensed light erupting from the tower's exposed marble floor. A jarring crash sounded out as the column of silver energy pierced the sky and shattered all three Safe Zone barriers simultaneously as if they were made of brittle plastic. Countless motes of light rained down from the heavens refracting beams of concentrated moonlight, illuminating the space around Alan in a wavering bluish glow.
His view now unhampered by walls, Alan saw that a circular spiral staircase had become uncovered in the center of the ruined tower's foundation, leading downward into unknown depths. Yet, as much as he wanted to explore, the allure of discovery brought along with it an instinctual scream of danger that reverberated through his very being. The blistering energy emanating from the stairwell carried a lethal warning, as if a foreboding presence was lurking somewhere in those shadows.
The feeling of being watched sent a chill down his spine.