A few minutes earlier.
Jordan glared sullenly at the Carbuncle chirping happily as it tore into its steak. It had been cute, right on up to the moment it lowered its forehead and scythed through the meat effortlessly with a small laser beam. Then Jordan had decided he’d rather focus on other things.
It was harder to do than he wanted. His mind felt fuzzy, like his head was light and floaty, but as he relaxed it did seem like it was getting better. Bits and pieces floating back to him, like he was a balloon that had briefly popped and was in the middle of un-popping.
Absentmindedly, he stared at the treasures nearby. It really irritated him that they were just… laying there. Was it really so much to ask that people didn’t treat valuable things so recklessly? It reminded him of one of his great childhood tragedies.
When he was young and his parents were selling the house to pay medical bills, prospective families had toured it with all the family’s belongings still inside. And of course, Jordan had left his Magic cards out, only to come back after school one day and find they’d been swiped. He never left valuables out, or played Magic the Gathering, again.
It also didn’t help that the damn artifacts looked distinctly dangerous. Putting them away was just common damn sense! Whatever, I’ll just take care of this before it becomes an issue.
Having decided on his course of action, Jordan set to work. He wasn’t going to touch any of the broken Artifacts—he wasn’t an idiot after all, but he figured anything that wasn’t sparking (or was at least sealed) was probably fine.
A few potions, the bracer, and a couple pieces of jewelry found themselves back at home in the box. This helped the table’s clutter immensely, and Jordan was about to finish up with what he felt comfortable touching, until he paused at the last item. The One Ring.
It reminded Jordan of said Tolkien Artifact, mostly for its shape and thickness as it wasn’t golden. It was a dark black metal, still shiny like any precious material would be, but had a dark red inscription wrapping around it. It’s kind of like… well, the weird Mordor-language of the One Ring, he supposed.
Picking it up, it was quite heavy for such a little thing—though by little Jordan supposed that was likely relative. His Bratty hands were so small, the ring could have sat on a thumb and been in danger of falling off at the slightest gesture. Examining it closer, he realized that the script was shifting in his sight, which would have been more shocking if he didn’t recognize his own mind trying to translate it for him. It usually took a half second or so, he’d found.
The ring’s inscription read: Dreams of Darkened Pasts / Hunger Set Free by Wonder / Cursed Are All Things Bright
oOooo, spooky~~ Jordan internally mocked the ring.
It just seemed nonsensical to him, really. Strangely, he was getting the tiniest bit of emotion from it. It wasn’t overwhelming like Rahm’s Mandala, or easy to pick up like the contract or Train. But still it seemed… sad? Not quite that, but dark and muted. Barely present, but he figured maybe his skill-thing needed more to go on?
Twisting the ring in his hands, he moved to put it in the box. After all, even if it were ‘The One Ring,’ he could already turn invisible, so what was the point? Invisibility…
He grit his teeth in frustration. Invisibility? What a joke. What the cat-girl had actually taught him was nothing more than a minor illusionary power that made people forget you were there. Her version was far better due to upgrades and crap like that. Maybe he should ask her about that kind of thing when she got done in the bathroom.
Jordan paused as he stared at the ring. It was a dark metal, beautiful in the filtered light of the pulsar outside. It wasn’t girly, which was a major selling point for him. Maybe I can ask Rahm about it when he gets back?
It seemed like a good idea, so he sat back down and set the ring out in front of him. He wasn’t sure what had happened to the items in the box (they had disappeared into nothingness the moment they went inside) so he decided to keep the ring out for now—that way it wouldn’t slip his mind.
He played with it on the table as he waited, thinking about getting the stupid paint off his own fingernails so they’d match the ring’s color. Black was… respectable. Gothic, possibly Emo or Scene if screwed up, but maybe he could pull off Goth? Jordan snorted at the idea. Wouldn’t that turn the stupid Brat into a gothic Lolita? I’ll pass on that crap, he thought.
Absently, the ring almost made its way on to his finger as he played with it, but Jordan caught it in time. He wasn’t about to actually wear it, that would be the height of foolishness in his mind.
Jordan stared at his right hand’s ring finger as the Black Band shrank to fit it snuggly. He then blinked stupidly at it. Had he just... put it on? Seriously!? But he—
“Oh, come on! Fuck me—why!?” He wailed, struggling to pull it off only to realize, that of course, the stupid thing wouldn’t come off.
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Kioko came sprinting into the room as Charlie popped up anxiously, still nibbling on a freshly lasered-off piece of steak. Jordan met her eyes and shouted out, “I didn’t mean to! I swear!”
“What the fuck happened!?” She rushed over to him, tripping over a chair cursing while she did. “Where are you hurt? Did you get anything melted? Infused? Mutated?” She checked him thoroughly, eliciting cries of protest.
“No, I, ow! I, ah… I accidently put this on.” Jordan shoved his hand up at her face. Her slitted eyes narrowed, only to widen in cat-panic before she latched onto his hand and started pulling at the ring. Jordan toppled over immediately from her surprising strength.
“OWOWOWO, Stop damnit! It’s stuck! STOP!” Jordan shrieked as the cat-girl flailed him about trying to dislodge him from the ring's grip. Seeing the futility of her actions, her ears folded back as her tail went hypersonic. She brought up Jordan’s ringed finger to examine it more thoroughly as her yellow eyes flashed with a smoky red light.
“A… storage ring? An Artifact storage ring? Who in their right mind would… oh, of course, right mind, duh. Fucking Immortals!” She screamed out before dropping Jordan unceremoniously on the floor. Charlie looked at him, as if deciding whether he wanted to come over and comfort him, but ultimately chose to comfort his own stomach and continued eating instead. Damn that cute little marmot, Jordan silently wailed.
“Er, so… is everything okay?” He ventured. Her dismissal had seemed almost comforting, but she was pacing now, frantically in the room. She stopped to stare at Jordan, shook her head, and then walked up to him. Lifting him up bodily, she plopped him into a chair she righted.
“Put your hand out.” She said. Jordan looked at her in concern, but complied after her glare turned murderous.
Examining his hand on the table, she tsked loudly, and then pulled out a knife. “Sorry kid, but better safe than sorry.”
“W-wait! Stop! You can’t be serious!?” Jordan cried out in protest, shock, and then overwhelming panic as the knife came down. He screamed, covering his eyes with his free hand before—
A quick thud noise was heard and then silence. Opening his eyes, Jordan looked up to see Kioko holding… nothing as she stared at his hand in growing panic.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!” She began pacing again.
“What the fuck!? Why did you try to chop my damn hand off!? What happened to the knife? What’s going on!?”
“That thing’s active and it stored the knife! Is that even possible? It was a fucking wielded item.” She answered offhandedly, consumed by her own thoughts as she power-walked from one end of the room to the other. She was… really fast, Jordan noticed, leaving wisps of ashy grey energy in her wake.
“Wait… storage rings can do that? That doesn’t, er… sound bad?” Didn’t that mean it had protected him?
“Storage rings? Not on your life. Artifacts though? Oh yeah, they can do all sorts of crap, like activating their baseline magical abilities on their own merit.”
“Then… what’s the problem?”
She stopped to look at him. “What’s to stop that thing from eating you, brat? The thing looks cursed through and through, probably kept by Rahm in case he needed any darker Essence types. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She resumed her pacing.
Eat… me? All I wanted to do was clean up a little, damnit! “You… won’t eat me right, ring?” He asked the ring nicely.
It glowed darkly in response.
“Oh no.”
The table in front of him disappeared.
“K-kioko… KIOKO!”
The chairs nearby disappeared, and Jordan plopped to the ground.
Looking up at Kioko, she rushed over before… all of her clothes disappeared. She yelped and covered herself, but then a shriek from nearby drew both of their attentions over.
Charlie’s steak was gone, and he was crying as though consumed by the world’s greatest sorrow.
A roar filled the house, and all three of them looked to see that the Pulsar was shining brilliantly into the living room. The steel blocking off Rahm’s new entrance had disappeared.
Jordan pointed in panic, only to realize his arms were quite bare. He was naked, his dignity eaten by the ring.
Systematically over the next half minute, every piece of furniture, every item scattered about, every artifact both in and outside of the box (the box as well) and even a few pieces of the wall, the doors, and half the trees in the forest out back disappeared.
Everything bolted down or otherwise was devoured by the ring.
Kioko and Jordan ran around screaming in panic, naked and afraid. Charlie just continued to wail in mourning.
But at least things were... tidier?
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Thankfully, they quickly found that the ring was less interested in consuming repeat items after a certain point. Raiding the duplicate versions of Rahm’s home, they eventually came out with non-combustible clothes and sunglasses for Jordan. Kioko opted for a golden shield she conjured after dismissing Charlie.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
It was Kioko’s hope that they could get to Rahm before anything… irreversible happened. Jordan had the impression she might have also just been worried the old man wasn’t going to come back anytime soon, which was a sentiment he shared.
Leaving the house, the two of them sprinted down the path. Unfortunately, the Trolley, operated by an uncharacteristically helpful Spirit, swung by to offer them a lift seeing their rush. Its one passenger gestured in a way that suggested he was complaining to the driver for deviating, but as Jordan and Kioko tried to wave them away the passenger’s space suit was stored into the ring.
He immediately vaporized.
Looking on in horror, the Sunflower-God tried to take off, only for the entire Trolley to disappear next, leaving him to float into the crushing gravity well of the pulsar. He became a tiny cube that was devoured with another Stellar burp.
Jordan pointed in panic and guilt as he screamed inaudibly. Kioko tried to reassure him before a giant pulse of light swept over them. Instantly, a great tearing sound filled the cul-de-sac, shaking the very stones they stood on as the light arrested on the spot. The beam siphoned off the Star with an otherworldly crunching sensation before the pulsar... pulsed no more. A dull mass of only slightly glowing matter sat sadly in the sky.
“Holy fuck!” Jordan exclaimed. “Did you see that!?”
“Kid I don’t think I’ll ever unsee that. Hey, is it me or is that thing done glowing?” She gestured to Jordan’s newest bling.
The two stared at it, both feeling immensely grateful to note that, indeed, the ominous ring had finally reverted to a dull state.
“Do you think… it’s full then?” Jordan asked.
“Beats me, but there’s a good chance. I’m not even sure what kind of storage ring can hold raw energy like that, but even so that was a lot. Any other ring would be bursting.”
“…that’s a lovely image.” Jordan muttered, staring at his hand in worry before yelping as Kioko grabbed it. Without ceremony she began her mad pace again, dragging Jordan in her wake.
“Kioko are… are you sure you want to be holding my… er, hand?”
“If it were going to store me it would have already. Whoever was fucking stupid enough to make it must have, against all fucking odds, had the damn courtesy to put some restrictions on it… if just to keep it from being able to eat its wielder, I suppose. Fucking Immortals.” She spat to the side.
“D-do you know where Rahm is? What happens if I eat the transport?” Flashbacks to sinking trains, broken art, and GTA bird-victims filled his mind.
“I have a good idea where he is, but… that’s a good point. Hang on.” Kioko patted at her new clothes, went to fish something out and then paused, staring at Jordan’s held hand.
“W-what? Please don’t try to cut it off again…”
“Don’t worry, we’ll save that for a last ditch attempt, er, this time. No, just gotta make sure it doesn’t eat all my Crowns so…” She fished out of her pocket, fitting her hand in a space that had no right holding it, and pulled out a golden coin. Experimentally she poked at Jordan’s hand with it. Nothing happened.
“Good, it must really be satiated then. That or it filled up on all the Crowns it ate in my other clothes. Which, by the way, if we can’t get out of this ring I’m making your family pay for.”
“S-sure.” Jordan shot back lamely. “Why do you need the money up here though? Are you going to give to charity on the way?”
“What? No, we’re going to take the Teleportation Network. It’ll take less time, but it does have a cost.”
“Teleportation? Wait, you can seriously teleport up here!?”
“Well, yeah. Didn’t you take one coming in?”
“No! Rahm made us take the train!”
“Oh… er,” She snickered, struggling to compose herself.
“Ugh! You know how many Spirits he killed on the way here? And it took forever!” Jordan lamented.
Kioko nodded reassuringly. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Though, to be fair, he also could have forgotten they were here.”
“How could you forget teleportation was an option? That’s the best option!”
“Well, it’s not exactly common you know.” She shrugged, turning down an unfamiliar street as Jordan was pulled behind her. Squeezing past a few Spirits, they popped out near a large plaza. They took the fact no Spirits were inexplicably naked as final proof that the danger of the ring had passed.
“They aren’t?” Jordan continued the conversation, craning his neck to look up at a series of giant archways laying in front of them. They had a very Stargate meets Arc De Triomphe vibe to them in his mind, and had crowds ambling nearby. Thankfully, the queue for it seemed much faster than the Bureau for the dead.
“No, they require a completely closed system. Otherwise space just ruptures and you’re liable to get an Incursion. Plus it’s real fucking hard.”
“What do you mean a closed system?”
“Exactly that, brat. An area where space is magically reinforced, so it won’t break. That means in most places portals can’t stretch more than within a city’s span, but here the whole Celestial City is closed within itself.” She bribed her way past a few people in line (Spirits seemed quite susceptible to this tactic, Jordan realized) and got them to a Rhino-God at the Gate.
The female Rhino-God looked… rather masculine at first glance to Jordan given her purely Rhino head, business slacks, and a tie. However, her clothes were pink, and she spoke with a distressingly girly voice completely at odds with her body-builder frame.
“Yes, yes, can I help you? Where do you need to go?”
“We need to visit—”
“What is that smell!?” The Rhino-God interrupted her, before fixing her eyes on Jordan. “What is that? Is that thing also a Mortal like you? I’m going to need to see some papers.”
Kioko froze up, but Jordan fished about looking for…
“Ah… Kioko. I, er, I think my ring may have eaten my visitors' pass.”
The Rhino-God narrowed her eyes at Jordan, but then was immediately distracted by a handful of Crowns shoved at her face.
“What is this? You can’t—”
More coins were shoved into the God’s face.
“Well, I might consider—”
The last of Kioko’s coins made their way into the God’s surreptitiously stretched out hand/hoof.
“Happy to be of service! Please step up, let me know where you need to go, and let’s get you two fine Mortals on your way, shall we?” The Rhino-God happily assisted.
The two of them walked up to the gate as the Rhino-God activated it. As it began charging up, an odd pressure filled the area. Energy began to wash over them, almost soothingly in fact.
But it also caused a problem.
Jordan felt a shake on his right hand and looked down to see his ring was… glowing in response.
The Archways started to shutter ominously. That's… not good, is it?
The ring wasn’t glowing with a dark light like before. It had wisps of energy beginning to leak out of it as the pressure pushed at it. It vibrated madly like it was about to…
“Burst!” Jordan shouted, and by some instinct pointed his finger into the sky.
Light flared from his ring as the gate engaged, consuming the world in a flash of light.
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Few things worked out as they should, and as Jordan appeared, slamming onto the ground with a surprising amount of momentum, he remembered that simple fact. Life wasn’t fair, after all.
“Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhh!” Jordan screamed incessantly, finger still raised into the air as a beam of plasma continued to fire out of his ring. The momentum from it firing shoved him into the ground, slowly dragging him backwards as the light lanced into the heavens. After a few short moments, however, it was finally finished, leaving only an echoing booming noise in the air.
Breathing heavily, Jordan flopped on the ground, drenched in blacked sweat as he struggled to even curse. Looking around, he noticed a distinct lack of cat-girls and Rhino-Gods.
There was a distinct lack of anyone familiar, in fact, but the area itself was recognizable. Smell alone was a great giveaway, but aside from that the cracked crystalline structures, faded dying plant life, and solemn looking Spirits nearby, gazing at him in fear and curiosity gave it away.
He was in some sort of ghetto. God slums, wonderful.
Glancing about with Catella-levels of guile, Jordan picked himself up. While his newest set of clothes, mostly a giant shirt reaching his knees (and new unmentionables), were unharmed, he himself was sporting a few bruises and a bleeding knee from the rough exit. Nothing serious, but it felt like injury to insult.
Bare feet padding slowly down the cracked, cobbled road, he approached the first figure he saw, trying to look nonchalant. The Spirit turned out to be a disheveled looking Badger-God, staring at him wildly. I supposed I do deserve that. The poor beast’s eyes were mismatched in size, and its larger eye was fixated on Jordan as the smaller one veered off course.
“Um… s-sorry to bother you sir, but ah, can you tell me where I am? I, ah, I’m a bit lost.” Also, don’t mind the giant fucking laser beam, that just happens, ho ho ho! He could practically imagine Kioko’s voice. He really hoped she was okay.
The Badger-God recoiled at the sounds of Jordan’s voice, an action Jordan could sympathize with given how haughty and girly he sounded. Licking at his cracked lips past a few missing teeth, the Hobo-Badger coughed before speaking.
“Ehark, you’re… lost? You smell like… but that’s not possible, right? You’re not one of them Daemons come back are you? I can’t get a job as it is, so you better not be back to steal what little work there is!”
Jordan backed up, not just at the angry tones of the creature, but to avoid spittle. “I, ah, I’m not a Daemon thing, I’m a Demonkin. S-similar, but different?” Jordan hoped he was remembering his lore correctly.
The man snorted, as though disbelieving his own nose, before pushing past the barrel he’d been standing around to approach Jordan. His feet thumped loudly on the ground as he jerkily moved. Jordan backpedaled, but the beast continued to press.
“You,” He snorted violently again, “you smell just like them. I know it. I KNOW IT! I won’t… I won’t lose out! They keep telling me I’ll get another chance at the Shares. Another one! I won’t let you take it!”
Jordan turned to sprint away, grateful that he was barefoot. He’d have surely died if he were still in heels! The Badger-God roared and chased after him, but didn’t make much progress.
Turning back, Jordan realized why. The Spirit… didn’t have feet. Just pegs he balanced on, with a spiritual form that was slowly rotting away. The attempt to chase Jordan caused him to fall, and he crawled, digging half broken hands into the cracked road as he screamed profanities and looked on at Jordan with a glint of madness in his eye. The other eye continued to veer-off, but spun with an erratic nauseating pattern.
Jordan fled. He didn’t stop running for as long as he could, because everywhere he looked, more eyes filled with similar glints met his. Animal-Gods falling to pieces, dragging themselves out of houses and homes, snarling in rage or worse… fear. They chased him with murderous intent all because they feared him.
Fucking left this part out Rahm! Jesus fucking Christ.
Breathing heavily as he rounded another corner, Jordan tried to duck into an alleyway to hide. He realized it was futile—the damn Spirits could likely smell him—but the Brat’s legs were shaking on him, and his new body was far too weak to keep going. He’d only got so far because of the energy left over from the phoenix feather.
Wiping more disgusting black sweat from his brow, Jordan nearly swallowed his own tongue when a voice cleared its throat down the large alleyway. Looking towards the sound, he could see that inexplicable shadows hung between the buildings like webs, and in the center of the path was what looked distressingly like a manhole, with its cover set to the side as something waited within.
“Hey… you wanna buy some Destinies, sweety?”
The voice was masculine, but high pitched with an effeminate lisp. He sounded nice enough, but all Jordan could see was a wide-brim hat covering his features. The rest of his visible torso was cloaked in a closed trench coat as he stood half way out of the entrance like a prairie dog.
“Um… no thanks?”
“Oh. Er… are you… sure?” The individual leaned his head forward, his trench coat flickering in a manner that Jordan figured was meant to be inviting; a nice ‘but I have such fabulous treats under here!’ way. It did nothing to persuade Jordan.
“Yeah, no, I ah… I’ll pass thanks.” Jordan was grateful this Spirit wasn’t rushing him, but he sounded like he was trying to sell him drugs!
“Oh. Okay then… crap, what do I do now? Shit, which lines did I attach again? Er… how about… some candy? I’ve got candy? Want some?”
Jordan turned his head slowly to look at the individual wreathed in shadows, ominously calling out from a hole in a darkened alley like the Clown from IT. Jordan raised an eyebrow and scoffed openly and dramatically.
Candy? Seriously? How dumb does he think I am? Jordan would have to be the world’s biggest fool to get tempted by something that ridiculous. He didn’t even like candy!
“Hells yeah, that’s the ticket! I’m glad you’re as easy to control as I thought you’d be.“
“Huh?”
“Hehe—thanks toots, I really appreciate this.”
Jordan was standing in the middle of the alleyway. He’d apparently walked straight up to the figure in the hole, which turned out to look an awful lot like a spider. The shadow-webs should have been a giveaway, but then again, not walking down the obvious trap should have been a given too.
Jordan didn’t get a chance to scream as the individual popped up and threw open his trench coat to reveal two extra sets of arms. They cradled webbing that expanded instantly to wrap around Jordan, binding him head to toe in a flash as he fell backwards onto the ground with a thud.
The entombed figure of Jordan squirmed and writhed in muffled fury as it was dragged helplessly into the darkness below.
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