All Jonathan knew for the next eon was nothingness, and pain. He was suffused with a hellish, orange light that seemed to burn away his very soul. All of that time, he had the vague sense that he was floating downward. He knew that something was trying to break his mind and will, and he tried desperately to combat that. Eventually, he felt something small and spiny detach itself from his neck, wailing in fury as its hold on him was broken. Then all he knew was true blackness.
Reality came back to him in waves. First there was the smell. A tarry, sulfurous odor that entered his nose and seemed to stay there, trying to work its way into his brain. Jonathan coughed as the smell redoubled, and he nearly vomited. He was stronger than that however, and he mastered his senses as the next of them returned. A sound unlike anything he had ever heard before battered his ears, the sound of a million wailing children mixed with screams of utter agony. Jonathan flinched, but remained strong. After all, he was here for a greater purpose. Perhaps this was the meaning that he had long craved.
After hearing came his sense of touch. A fiery heat burned at his skin as it returned, sending spikes of pain into his body. Jonathan grimaced and bore it as well as he could, realizing that although it was uncomfortable, it could not hurt him. After that, his tongue began to register the taste of burnt meat, and he gagged, realizing that he was tasting burning flesh in the air. Finally, and worst of all, was his sight. He was standing in the middle of an endless line that extended into the horizon in either direction. All around him was a desolate wasteland of ash, and nothing but ash. Drifts of the gray substance lined the ground, and massive mountains of ash were visible in the distance. Strange shapes moved in the corners of his eyes, and Jonathan cringed. In the distance, one of the mountains shifted, revealing a titanic head, shaped like a saw.
Grimacing, he turned his head back towards his place in the line. Every now and again, a winged creature would swoop down and carry off one of the people waiting in the line, and as the one in front of him was taken, Jonathan realized that it had not been human. The creature had been too slender for that, with long, pointed fingers, and a vaguely triangular head. Most convincingly however, it had sported four arms.
As a hideous screech carried to Jonathan’s ears, he realized that one of the monsters was coming for him too. As it passed overhead, he ducked, and lashed out with his hand. He felt stronger and faster somehow, as if he had been infused with energy. As his hand moved, he clasped it onto the creature’s leg. It was hot to the touch, burning his skin, but compared to the pain from his descent, it was nothing. He pulled it down out of the air, using the element of surprise to overpower its wings. It scrabbled at his arms with its long claws, drawing blood, but he ignored it to the best of his abilities, instead taking a good look at it. It looked like a massive, humanoid bat, with a face made out of twisted sinew and bone. It screeched directly at him, sending a spike of pain into his head. Before he could do anything, it flapped off, escaping his grip. As it left, he saw something strange over its head.
Ash Imp(Basic)
Level 3
That was all he saw, but it was enough. He knew the name of the monster, and how powerful it was. Assuming that he was level one, Jonathan was quite a bit stronger than his level indicated. Then he remembered what he had been doing before he had been killed. Checking his status. Before he could think of it however, a sudden wave of dread washed over his body, as he remembered his own death. Although the lightning bolt had struck in the blink of an eye, every aspect of his hideous demise was still etched into his soul. He remembered his screams, the feeling of his limbs turning to dust. The pain that had quickly turned into something even worse. Oblivion. The feeling quickly turned into a stark and vivid hatred for whatever had done that to him. He knew that it had been one of the siblings of his patron, Sarnakthros. That meant that it had been another god.
As he stood there, his feet buried in ash, and with the screeches of demons flying overhead, he vowed that he would have his revenge. Blood dripped down from his hands as he stood there, but he didn't notice the fact that his fingernails had pierced his own flesh. Instead, he smiled grimly. He was in the Infinite Hells, wherever they were. He would escape this place and get his revenge, or die trying. With a quick thought, a screen appeared in front of him.
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Jonathan Harlowe
Tier 1
Human(Basic)
Outsider:Tier 1
Level 1
(3 free points)
Strength
15
Dexterity
15
Constitution
18
Resilience
18
Intelligence
15
Wisdom
13
Divinity
1
Health:180/180
Stamina:150/150
Mana:150/150
* Titles
Chosen of Sarnakthros:Unique
Nascent Divinity:Celestial
Wretch:Common
* Skills
Identify:Common
Nothing else was written there, but that did not concern Jonathan at the moment. What he wanted to find out more about were his titles. Opening the first one, he was met with yet another blue screen.
Chosen of Sarnakthros:Unique
You have been chosen by a god, and wrenched from your universe to serve his will. Such things come with benefits.
Bonuses:Immunity to Divine Possession, loyalty of all true followers of Sarnakthros, and better class options.
Jonathan closed the notice and took a deep breath. So that was what the message from earlier had been talking about, not that it did him much good anyway, stuck in this universe’ version of Hell as he was. He doubted that he would find any followers of Sarnakthros among the listless, brain dead shells that surrounded him, As he stood there, had had begun to notice that not a single one of the people around him seemed self aware, or even conscious, Instead, they simply stood there, waiting to be snatched up by the imps. It was as if their minds had broken. Then Jonathan remembered the pain he had felt during his descent into this place. Perhaps that was why none of these people were conscious. They had already been broken on the way here.
Another one of the imps came screeching down towards him, and Jonathan remained still until the last moment, tricking the creature into thinking him no better off than the others. Instead, it took his fist directly into its face, sending it hurtling backwards. It crashed into a nearby ash drift, and Jonathan stared at his fist in amazement. He was definitely stronger than before. The monster got to its feet unsteadily, and stared at him through its burning eyes, before launching itself back at him. It certainly did not seem especially intelligent. In any case, Jonathan was better off finding his way out of this endless line, as it seemed as if the imps were attracted to the masses of people waiting there.
He began running, his feet sinking deep into the ash. Luckily it was exceedingly light, or his progress would have been impeded. As the imp came in for another pass, its leathery wings beating audibly, Jonathan whirled around and snatched it out of the air by its neck. Before it could do anything, he snapped its neck, killing the creature. A wave of energy entered him a moment later, and he took a deep breath, trying to get as much of it into him as he could. He had no idea what it was, but it felt good. The energy crashed into a dam within his body, and shattered it a moment later. His skin briefly glowed with light, and his wounds healed over.
You have killed an Ash Imp!
You have leveled up!