In the Beginnings of Time: A Council of Primordials
The void, a vast expanse of nothingness, suddenly flares to life as three distinct entities converge, their energies intertwining in a dance of creation and possibility.
Luxa (Primordial of Light): Oh, it's simply splendid to see you both! Her voice is a shimmering echo, like sunlight reflecting off water.
Tenebros (Primordial of Darkness): Luxa. Chaotix. His voice is a deep rumble, like thunder on the horizon.
Chaotix (Primordial of Chaos): Ah, the eternal sunny and gloomy duo! Always a riot! His voice fluctuates unpredictably, now a whisper, now a shout.
Luxa: Tenebros and I have been discussing something truly magnificent. We've decided to breathe life into children of our own, to call them gods!
Tenebros: They will be our legacy, our testament in this boundless canvas of existence.
Chaotix: Gods, huh? So, like smaller, less cool versions of us?
Luxa: They'll carry our essence but have free will. Oh, think of all the wondrous things they might create!
Tenebros: And destroy.
Chaotix: Sounds like a chaotic mess waiting to happen. But sure, why not? Add a few more players to this cosmic game. Just promise they won't be as annoyingly optimistic as you, Luxa.
Luxa: Oh, Chaotix! They will be whatever they wish to be. It’s the beauty of creation!
Tenebros: We wanted to tell you as a courtesy. Since, after all, they might interfere with your... unpredictable nature.
Chaotix: Me? I'm just here for a good time. But hey, best of luck with your godly project. Just so you know, I won’t be having any offspring. Can't imagine anything more chaotic than myself, and frankly, that's a terrifying thought.
Luxa: That's a relief! I mean... it's totally your choice, of course.
Tenebros: It's wise. Some things are better left uncreated.
Chaotix: Aww, Tenebros, you do care! I’m touched. I'd shed a tear if I had eyes. Or tear ducts.
Luxa: This will be a new chapter for all of us! Let’s cherish the moments that await.
Tenebros: Let’s hope balance remains amidst the chaos.
Chaotix: And if it doesn’t? Well, I’ll be here, enjoying every unpredictable second. Cheers to the chaos that awaits!
As their conversation fades, the energies diverge once more, each returning to their dominion, poised to witness the dawn of gods
Chapter 1 (Dam what a day)
Alphonse had thrived in the criminal world. He started as a street thug but quickly ascended to become the crime boss of the Black Hand Syndicate. However, when he learned that his girlfriend was pregnant, his priorities shifted, and he decided to leave it all behind for a better life.
But as soon as word got out about his departure plan, the syndicate intervened, demanding something before letting him go: an undisclosed debt that must be repaid in the future. Reluctantly, Alphonse accepted this agreement and left behind everything he knew, starting a new life with his partner and their firstborn son.
Fast forward twenty-five years, and Alphonse now has four children who are adults themselves.
Alphonse sits with his feet dangling off the side of an examination table. The examination room is a small, dimly lit space with white walls and tiled floors. A large poster of the human body hangs on one wall, detailing various organs and systems. An array of medical instruments is lined up neatly along a metal cart, ready for the doctor's use. There is a single window behind the examination table, allowing some natural light to enter the room. The only other furnishings are two chairs, one of which is occupied by a nurse with her clipboard. Alphonse feels a bit uneasy as he waits for the doctor to return.
He adjusts the hospital gown they had given him, trying to cover everything that the too-small garment wasn't.
Alphonse wonders why these darn things always give everyone a bird’s-eye view of your rear end.
The door opens, and an elderly doctor walks in, reading a thick chart tucked beneath his arm. He has greying hair, glasses perched on the end of his nose, and the lines of age etched into his face. Alphonse watches as the doctor adjusts his glasses and reads through the chart intently. After a few moments of silence, the doctor looks up at Alphonse, his expression one of seriousness.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news," he says.
Alphonse: "Hit me with it, Doc."
Doctor: "Your tests confirm what we suspected: you have cancer." Alphonse feels his heart sink as the doctor continues.
Doctor: "And it's terminal, I'm sorry."
Alphonse's eyebrows furrow, and he tries to come to grips with the news.
Alphonse: "How long have I got?"
Several hours later, Alphonse finds himself in front of the gate to his home. He smiles at the security camera as the face recognition software runs its course before allowing him access. Alphonse's mind is still reeling from the news he received earlier that day as he steps through the gate. He is determined to make the most of whatever time he has left.
Alphonse trudges through his home, a sprawling oasis of luxury and opulence. The two-story building is painted in pristine white with large, imposing columns that run along the length of the house. Inside, the ceilings are adorned with elaborate chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, while the walls are covered in thick drapery and fine artwork. Every room is filled with luxurious furniture, from the grand dining hall to the cozy library. Outside, an immaculate garden spreads across the grounds, featuring colorful flowers and lush shrubbery surrounding a large swimming pool. It truly is a sight to behold, tangible evidence of a life he has built to provide for those he loves.
He slumps down on his couch and pulls out the new mobile phone that his son had bought him. He smiles, remembering his son telling him that his old phone was out of date and that it was time for an upgrade.
He turns the device over in his hands, frowning at a black screen. He fumbles with it for several minutes until he finally can send a group message asking everyone to come over for dinner tomorrow.
Alphonse sighs and leans back in the chair.
He glances out at the garden, a feeling of peace washing over him.
As his heavy eyelids flutter shut, memories of a cherished past begin to intertwine with the fabric of his sleep.
Within the realm of his dream, Alphonse finds himself transported back in time, reliving a cherished memory with his son, Jayden. They stand side by side, their gazes fixed on the glow of a computer screen, the gateway to a vast virtual world. It is the moment Jayden had introduced him to the art of avatar creation.
Jayden's voice brims with youthful excitement as he guides his father through the process. "Dad, just imagine it. Your character can be anyone you want, someone strong and captivating. Let's start with the appearance."
Alphonse leans in closer, captivated by his son's words. "Tell me more, Jayden."
Jayden grins, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. "Look, Dad, this is where you can shape your character's looks and make them truly unique. Let's create an imposing figure, someone who commands attention."
Alphonse follows Jayden's lead, selecting the rich, dark ebony hue for his avatar's skin. "I want him to have a touch of mystery, something that draws people in."
Jayden nods, his fingers deftly navigating the virtual options. "Exactly, Dad. Now, let's add a scar, a symbol of his triumphs. Ah, perfect! That scar across the bridge of his nose tells a story of epic battles fought and won."
Alphonse marvels at the attention to detail, the way each element adds layers to the character's narrative. "What about his hair, Jayden? It should be unique, something that sets him apart."
Jayden's eyes sparkle with mischief. "You're going to love this, Dad. I found these silver dreadlocks as a rare loot drop. They have a spectral glow, ethereal and captivating."
As they continue, Alphonse immerses himself in the process, shaping Sebastian Blackwood, his chosen avatar, with his son's guidance. Jayden explains the significance of every detail—the eyes are pools of midnight black, an exceptional rarity even in this fantastical landscape. They shine with intelligence and cunning, qualities cultivated by the feeling of getting the better of people who thought they had the upper hand. Every so often, the avatar would have a wicked smile. Jayden explains that “Whenever he crafted a strategy or laid a trap for his adversaries, his eyes twinkled, and his lips twisted into a subtly menacing smile that caused a ripple of apprehension among those who knew him well.”
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His avatar stands tall and regal, his posture flawless, a testament to the exceptional character design. His movements, enhanced by the game's state-of-the-art physics engine, suggest a perfect balance of strength and grace. Whether he is strolling through the marketplace or engaging in hand-to-hand combat, Sebastian carries an air of certainty and purpose, his actions a dance of power and finesse.
Adorned in a meticulously tailored black suit, he embodies the dark aristocracy of his chosen role. The crisp high-collared shirts and an intricately brocaded waistcoat. Black leather gloves, an exclusive loot item given in a mystery box, encase his hands. Besides providing a considerable boost to his combat stats, they contribute to the enigmatic aura that surrounds him.
In Alphonse’s dream, the memory melds seamlessly with his imagination. He sees Sebastian Blackwood come to life, standing tall within the virtual world. His every movement exudes power and finesse, his combat skills unmatched. Alphonse witnesses Sebastian's battles, the fluidity of his hand-to-hand combat, and the awe he inspires among his adversaries.
But then, as the dream reaches its climax, an unexpected darkness descends upon Alphonse. It is as if the very essence of peace itself is swallowed whole. Startled, he feels a gloved hand grip his shoulder. Panic surges through him; the tranquility shatters, leaving a cold shiver trailing down Alphonse's spine.
Suddenly, he feels something slip over his head from behind, and his world goes black. Alphonse feels a sensation as if something engulfs his head—darkness descending and consuming everything in sight, even the feeling of peace itself. A faint whisper enters his ear just before oblivion creeps up on him with words that would haunt him: "It is time to settle up."
Fury surges through Alphonse as he is suddenly doused with cold water. He opens his eyes to a dismal scene—an eerie cave, illuminated only by the light of flickering torches held by sinister hooded figures. His mind races in confusion: where have they taken him? An unsettling feeling swirls around the room; its walls are jagged and unwelcoming, while something ominous seems hidden within a large black vortex at the center of their circle.
The black vortex in the center of the room is unlike anything Alphonse has ever seen. It is a swirling, turbulent mass of energy, emanating a strange and powerful aura that leaves him feeling uneasy. Its surface is dark and filled with murky shadows that seem to move independently from one another. A tingling sensation runs up Alphonse's spine as he feels the power radiating from the vortex, an ominous presence that seems to possess a will of its own.
At the center of this strange scene stands a man Alphonse hopes he'll never see again.
His rival, Klaus Stein, Alphonse's nemesis since childhood. They had started out as friends, but someone had started a vicious rumor that Alphonse and Klaus's mom had played hide the sausage. Since then, Klaus had always been a thorn in Alphonse's side, and this meeting only reinforced the rivalry between them. The smug look on his face made it clear what he was after—a chance to finally put an end to this long-running battle and come out victorious.
Klaus smirked and addressed the group, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Greetings, my friends. I have brought us here for one simple reason—to receive the debt that is owed before it can no longer be paid." He laughed and continued, "It's time to settle up."
Alphonse clenched his fists in frustration, and he noticed his doctor curled in the fetal position with blood pooling around him.
Klaus: "Since you have left, there have been some changes, buddy. I'm a top dog now, and I've decided to clean up the books, and what do you take I ran across a debt owed by my favorite person."
Klaus raised both of his hands to show a pair of gloves. One of them had a silver arcane symbol on the left hand, and the other one was a broken black symbol on the right. "These should have belonged to you," he said with a dark smile.
Alphonse recognized them as the gloves that their old boss wore. The gloves signified that Klaus now led the Black Hand.
Alphonse's heart sank as he realized what Klaus meant—their decades-old rivalry had finally come to an end. He knew his fate.
He turned to Alphonse and grinned, "You know what they say, debts are like children—begot with pleasure but brought forth with pain."
He let out a wicked cackle and gestured to hooded figures.
Klaus: "Alphonse, old boy, you see you left us before you had enough clout to meet our esteemed founders, the true power behind the syndicate."
Klaus bowed to the figures and then turned to Alphonse.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small hatchet, throwing it to the ground near Alphonse's feet. His voice was thick with menace as he said, "When you asked to be out of our little family here, you agreed."
Klaus raised his hand to his chin and rubbed it with an exaggerated pose to appear as if he was thinking.
Klaus: "You agreed to pay a debt in exchange for you and your family to leave us, correct?"
Alphonse sneered and narrowed his eyes at Klaus as he bent down and grasped the hatchet. The wood creaked as his hand tightened around the handle.
Klaus: "So here we are, the only way you can leave is to pay your debt,” he said with a menacing smirk. "I suggest you start chopping away at that debt." With that, he stepped back and gestured toward the hooded figures.
Voices sprang from the figures in unison, "What do you offer?"
Alphonse raised his left arm.
Alphonse: "I offer."
Klaus: "Hold on there, just to make this clear, you said 'family,' right? And while I hate to be a stickler for the rules, please remember that you have four children, and we must have an appropriate and equal exchange."
Alphonse dropped his head and sighed. "I guess you win. But could you give me a hand for old times' sake," he said softly, as he tossed the hatchet back to Klaus.
Klaus caught it with one hand and placed the hatchet under his arm. Klaus arched his eyebrow.
Klaus: "Why sure, what are friends for? Just let me slip these off; I would hate to get them dirty," he said as he pulled his gloves off and placed them in his pocket.
Alphonse opened his arms toward Klaus.
Alphonse: "Klaus, I offer you an embrace to show that after this, I bear no ill will, brother."
Klaus rolled his eyes, nodded, and cautiously walked toward Alphonse. They both embraced, and Alphonse leaned in to whisper in Klaus's ear, "Your mom did tickle my pickle."
Klaus's eyes widened as he jumped back to see Alphonse's smile as he winked and waved a familiar set of gloves in the air.
Alphonse chuckled as he spread his arms wide, tilted backward, and presented both of his middle fingers as he faded into the darkness, saying four barely legible words, "I give it all."
Alphonse drifted through an endless void, and then he heard a beckoning, asking him to choose something. Unfamiliar with what was requested of him, his confusion only grew as a shimmering screen materialized before him, featuring the words "Soul requirements not met; soul expended." It continued on in mechanical monotone: "Processing... Replacement required… Do you accept?" With no other options available, Alphonse attempted several times to reach out for help—to no avail. Closing his eyes and concentrating deeply within himself for guidance, he thought, 'Yes.' The voice answered back promptly with another question: "Searching Soul Storage; one soul available; would you like to acquire it?" Once again focusing inwardly on the affirmative answer of 'yes.'
The screen blinked out of existence with a pop!
Voice: "Soul of Darkness and Chaos accepted. New title acquired: Lord of Bedlam, beginning assimilation in 10, 9, 8."
Alphonse: "Wait! What! I mean no, no."
Voice: "7, 6, 5."
Alphonso: "NO, I want something else."
Voice: "4, 3, 2, 1."
Voice: "Processing... processing... processing... affirming soul accepted. Soul of Darkness and Chaos now part of soul construct."
"Well, ain't that just peachy," Alphonse thought.
Voice: "Error, error, patron not preselected."
A new blue screen flashed before him with the words "No patron selected, select patron of the Pantheon of Order? Yes or No."
Alphonse leaned forward, his face now inches away from the screen. He heard a faint whisper in the darkness as if voices were calling to him, whispering "Yes, Yes, choose, choose; he must choose."
Alphonse peered into the nothingness of the void before him, and then he saw it. Seven figures in the darkness, half-formed, and yet somehow familiar. He felt drawn to it, like a moth to a flame, he yearned to choose yes, to choose the Pantheon of Order. He thought about what he could offer them, his heart full of warmth. He swayed, and his thoughts drifted to focusing on Yes.
Suddenly he heard a loud booming voice that seemed to echo throughout the void, "NOOOOOO!" and as if on cue, gigantic eyes opened up in the darkness before him. His heart raced as he realized what had almost happened. There was a long list of things that Alphonse couldn't stand, but high on that list was the idea of being under someone else's control.
The monotone voice spoke again, "Error, error, patron not preselected. Patron selection aborted. System paused."
Alphonso grabbed his head as the voice repeated it over and over, each time louder and louder, causing Alphonse to grit his teeth in pain until he felt like his head was going to explode. He screamed as a blinding white light consumed him, and Alphonse felt himself slipping away into blissful unconsciousness. The last thing he remembered was that set of gigantic ominous glowing azure blue eyes slowly closing.
Alphonse's reawakening was anything but serene. No, he didn't find himself in a cozy bed with the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Instead, he surfaced on a mountainous heap of decomposing body parts, a location that could make even the most hardcore horror fan would second-guess their life choices. The air? Well, it smelled like a gourmet dish cooked in a dumpster.
As he attempted to rise from this nightmarish pillow of putrefaction, every muscle in his body protested as if they were on strike. A glowing message rudely interrupted his thoughts. He reread the message, his mind racing. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stared at the message again. It was real and right there in front of him.
[System Message]
Error, Error: Patronage unknown
Level: 0, Error
Class: Error
Health: 10/100
Mana: Error
Experience: Error
Gold: 0
With trembling fingers, he reached out and tapped the message, half expecting it to vanish like a mirage. Instead, it responded.
Alphonse froze in his tracks, his eyes widening in shock. He looked around, half-expecting to see a hidden camera crew or maybe even a celestial choir singing his praises. A thousand questions flooded his mind.
[System Message] Error
[System Message] Error
[System Message] Error
'Oh, how wonderfully informative,' he thought as he grimaced. He was tired, thirsty, bruised, and his stomach was as empty as a politician's promises. Everywhere he looked, there were piles of bones and flesh, with purple streams of fluorescent mist rising out from the darkness.
[System Message]
You have encountered a Carnivorous Red Bunny
Level: 1
Health: 10/10
Alphonse blinked in disbelief as he stared at the small, fluffy creature in front of him. It was a bunny, right? Red as blood, yes, but still just a bunny. He was about to move on when he saw the eyes—those glowing, malevolent red eyes that seemed to pierce his soul.
'Identify,' Alphonse muttered, his curiosity getting the better of him.
[System Message]
Carnivorous Red Bunny
Alphonse winced as a sharp pain pierced his brain, courtesy of his Identify skill. Well, that was certainly helpful.
Before he could contemplate the consequences of his curiosity, the bunny's eyes flared brighter, and it let out another squeak. That's when things went from weird to apocalyptic.
From the ground, from holes in trees, and even from the remains of long-dead creatures, more of these crimson horrors began to emerge. It was as if they had been waiting for the signal. They all had the same malevolent red eyes, and they were all headed in Alphonse's direction.
'Of course,' Alphonse muttered sarcastically. 'A bunny apocalypse. Why not?
At first glance, they were adorable, he thought. Small, fluffy, and their fur as red as a ripe apple. But then their eyes locked onto him, and those once-innocent eyes began to glow with a slight red light. Alphonse had dealt with thugs, rival gang members, and the occasional angry husband, but nothing had quite the same chilling effect as a cute bunny gone rogue with pieces of raw meat hanging from its teeth.
'Aw, look at them,' Alphonse muttered, feeling a false sense of security. 'Aren't you guys just the cutest little terrors?'
One of the bunnies turned and twisted his head in confusion. He seemed to take offense at Alphonse’s sarcastic tone. Suddenly, one of them let out a high-pitched squeak, which, for a moment, Alphonse thought was rather comical. That was until hundreds of those little monsters started pouring out of holes in the ground and from beneath decaying bodies.
[System Message]
You have encountered a Horde of Carnivorous Red Bunnies
Level: ??? (Too many to count)
Health: ??? (An overwhelming number)
'Of course, why have just one when you can have a horde?' Alphonse grinned as he stood up, stretched, and cracked his neck and hands. 'Well, guess it's rabbit season.'"