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EPILOGUE
[ Narrator ]
“Do you know how much trouble you caused?” The voice echoed through the black and white space, neither loud nor quiet, neither harsh nor soft, neutral although not quite a monotone. The owner of the voice talked at a measured pace, without turning away from a set of moving geometrical shapes fluidly dancing in a sphere. Although their eyes remained closed, a focused expression painted the being’s androgynous and perfectly symmetrical face. Long, heavy robes covered them from the neck down, keeping in theme with the black and white and the symmetry of the surroundings.
Hearing no response, Order first redirected a hexagon which was drifting slightly off course and then pivoted to face the much smaller goddess who stood on the checkered floor. At the centre of a squared white tile, Sun looked unwell. She was swaying on her feet, her complexion sickly, her burning hair dulled to embers, and hand over her mouth as if the last rampart keeping her last meal in. As the Primordial Divinity’s gaze fell onto her, she bent down, barely stopping herself from throwing up. Order let out the barest of sighs, the first hint of emotion they’d shown since the lesser goddess arrived.
“There are reasons why we do not materialise physically in any of the mortal planes, silly daughter of mine. Did you perhaps forget? Not only would roaming deities cause mayhem and untold destruction, but the magical power in the lower planes is also too scarce and impure to support our existence for an extended period of time. It is poison and asphyxia to us. Why did you risk it when you could have guided his way to your temple through your followers?”
“But I didn’t want to wait!” Sun finally looked up, a stubborn pout on her face. She immediately ducked down again, slamming both hands on her mouth. Guttural groans ensued, causing Order to rub the bridge of their narrow nose with two long spindly fingers.
“Patience is lost on the young…”
“He’s mine,” came Sun’s weak reply.
“He is better suited as Chaos’ chosen than yours. All is as it was meant to—” A brief twitch agitated Order’s eyebrows, and they reached back to push the misbehaving hexagon back into position again. “…be.”
“Dun’t care. I wan’ my darlin’.”
“Well, you can try again to communicate him your will after your punishment is over.”
“Punishment?!” Sun straightened with a start, looking even paler.
“Indeed. You broke the rules. The damage to the mortal world was minimal. Therefore the punishment will be accordingly light. You are grounded for six months.”
“Si-si-six months!?”
“Did I stutter?” The ancient being’s closed eyelids cracked open a fraction of an inch, and an immense pressure slammed down onto the smaller goddess’ shoulders. She fell to a knee, coughing specs of iridescent golden blood. “Don’t. Question. My. Word.” Order spoke distinctly and deliberately, voice still neutral but filled with merciless authority.
As fast as it had come, the pressure lifted. Order looked away once again. “You are dismissed.” Without waiting for a reply, they banished the weaker deity with a wave.
Left alone in the endless space of black and white squares, Order returned to their contemplation of the spherical mobile. Each of the many clear-cut shapes drifted following a predetermined route, sometimes colliding, sometimes narrowly avoiding others, some never meant to cross path at alm. But never did they stray from the plan.
Perfection.
“Beautif—” A bigger twitch, almost a full frown, creased Order’s forehead for an instant. They once again pushed the misbehaving hexagon back into its proper path. The deity sighed. “Why is so hard to keep things organised?” The question lost itself in the lonely vastness of the silent realm. No answer came forth.
Eventually, Order turned away. A circular portal of liquid mercury appeared in the air, and they stepped through, vanishing from sight. The gateway closed behind them.
In the sphere of dancing shapes, one hexagon drifted off course.
…
A smaller mirror-like portal opened. A long-fingered hand burst out and swiftly crushed the hexagon. This done, the hand retreated through the shimmering mercury.
Before the portal closed, a small annoyed murmur could be heard.
“Insufferable.”
* * *
[ NHGame News Broadcast ]
“…the cause of what appears to be a meteor strike on the Krakot Delta remains a mystery. The rumours of You-Know-Who’s involvement remain unconfirmed, but the Kingdom of Firstland is taking the possibility seriously as shown by yet another increase in the security measures deployed for the Princess' Coming of Age ceremony. The King otherwise declared that the celebration would occur as planned in the following week.”
The image on the screen shifted, cutting away from a beautiful elven woman with long, braided blond hair and pale sky-blue eyes and standing in front of a fuming crater slowly filling up with water, to an older and shorter man on a balcony and facing a crowd, as seen from the viewpoint of a member of that crowd.
Or rather, the man was leaning on the balcony so far it looked like he might fall. His face had an unhealthy purple colour, and he was shaking his fist angrily at the sky. Meanwhile, two elvish women of different ages—but same silver hair and similar features—were trying to pull him back inside the palace, mostly in vain.
“AND IF THAT SON OF A SKUNK GETS WITHIN A HUNDRED MILES OF MY LITTLE GIRL, I WILL CHOP OFF THAT BASTARD'S D-*bleep* AND SH-*bleep* IT UP HIS AR-*bleep* WITH A FU-*bleep* KICK IN HIS AS-*bleep*!!”
“Hector! That language isn’t suitable for a king!” interjected the oldest of the two elvish women—although, by human standards, she barely looked twenty.
“Mother is right, Father. Besides, Uncle Elric isn’t that bad!” tried to add the younger one. However, if she’d intended to appease the man, it failed magistrally.
“TEN THOUSAND GOLDS FOR THAT GUYS HEAD IN A BOX!! NO!! A BOX IS TOO KIND!! BRING ME IS HEAD IN AN OLD BAG USED TO TRANSPORT MANURE!!!” The crowd below exploded in laughter mixed with shouts of greed and joy, and the image abruptly switched back to the beautiful blonde elf.
She smiled at brightly at the audience. “As you can see, the month-long festivities are still going strong in Start City. If you want more information on the king’s bounty, go to our dedicated webpage on the link that now appears at the bottom of your screen. We also offer our own reward for the exclusivity rights to footage of your confrontation with Elric Walker. So good luck with that!” She smiled again before regaining a professional demeanour. “But for now, let’s move on to the border of Wiesen, the Beast Kingdom, where…”
* * *
[ Horizon Guild ]
The slick silhouette dropped from the branches and landed on the ground in a crouch, all without the slightest sound. Two yellow eyes opened, piercing the darkness of the undergrowth as the figure stood up.
In a clearing a stone’s throw away, an elf clad in a hooded dark green ranger attire looked up from the silver bow he was polishing. The scarf covering his face hid most of his expression, but his eyes revealed all his focus. His movement attracted the attention of a little human girl sitting across from him. She glanced around searchingly, wiping pastry crumbs from her cute pink gothic dress, before following her companion’s gaze. The third person in the group, a massive bear-kin woman slumped against a tree with her eyes closed, remained still and unaware.
The next instant, a lean black-furred cat-kin emerged from the woods. His bare hind paws made no sound on the hummus. The pupils of his yellow eyes shrunk to slits as soon as he stepped into the light. Even then, the shadows clung to him, as his black leather armour appeared to absorb the surrounding brightness. The elf started to stand up, but a gesture from the cat-kin made him sat back down.
“Heya! Dannie!” The little girl showed none of the elf’s dignified reserve and waved cheerfully at the anthropomorphic cat person. Her voice was as cute and sweet as her appearance. “So? How bad is it?” She punctuated her question by biting into the muffin she had been nibbling on prior to the newcomer’s arrival.
The cat man, Daniel-San Horizon, leader of the guild of the same name, leaned back elegantly against a tree and crossed his arms, a serious expression on his feline features. “It’s going to be tough. Their defences are rock solid. Multiple sentinels for every angle. Overlapping guard rotations. Few to no blind spots and no easy way to those few. For orc bandits, they’re freakishly well-organised and equipped. Black Albatross did a quick bird-eye reckon before he had to log out. The numbers are not in our favour, and they have the advantage of the location, be it home ground or fortress. They have a full squadron of shamans, at least three gnomic ballistae, and a tamed [Swamp Troll]. We have the element of surprise, though, but not much else.”
“Good.” A deep growl caused all three of them to turn to the bear woman, who had just regained consciousness and was getting up and stretching her sore limbs, a grim and bloodthirsty expression on her ursine face. In fact, her whole demeanour screamed untold horrors for any who got unlucky enough to earn her ire—or simply stand in her path and not scram fast enough.
“Winnie! Welcome back! Cookie has been waiting!” As if oblivious to the dreadful aura, the little girl clapped happily. “You look loaded for bear!” The cringe-worthy pun received the blank silence it deserved, but the girl was undaunted. “Cookie was starting to get worried you might be late to the party!” Again, nobody reacted to Cookie Sugar’s habit of referring to herself in the third person. They were used to it.
The bear-kin and the cat-kin shared a glance. “How is he?” the latter asked.
“He was fine when I arrived,” was her gruff answer. Daniel-San judged prudent not to dig any deeper.
He changed the subject. “I sent the scout team's drafted plan to your interface.”
The reply was an unintelligible grumble as Winnifred Horizon, vice-master of the guild of the same name, readjusted the few heavy plates of armour which protected her vital spots. Otherwise, her outfit consisted only of a leather skirt, favouring ease of movement over the defence. “Any off?”
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“Salvatore and Pumpumkin. And Black Albatross had a last minute emergency. Otherwise, the whole guild is present.”
“Alb too?” She asked, curious but not stopping her tinkering with her armour parts. The brooding bird-kin usually never missed any significant battle.
“He received a call from home. His wife is giving birth.”
That gave her pause, but she only mumbled a small, “Good for him,” before resuming her fight an uncooperative shoulder pad with a temper. She, at last, managed to get her gear to behave. She cracked her neck twice and rolled her shoulders. “I’ll go get my squad ready.” She turned around to leave the clearing.
“Do you remember the plan? This isn’t the usual monster raid. The enemy is smart, organised and ready for a fight.”
“Don’t you just wish we could drop an Elric Bomb on top of the fortress~? They wouldn’t be ready for that!” Cookie giggled happily, only to freeze when the bear woman snapped back in her direction and roared right into her face.
Without a comment or explanation, Winnifred then huffed and stomped away grumpily, leaving behind an unmoving stunned little girl.
After a couple of seconds, Cookie’s eyes shifted down, trying to see the huge spittle she could feel had landed on her cheek. She began shivering. “........get ...it ...off ...getitoff-getitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff-GET-IT-OFF!!!” Her pink eyes had become bloodshot, and her rosy complexion had paled dramatically.
Both males reacted simultaneously, but the elf was the fastest one. His cloth-wrapped arrow brushed past the girl’s face, missing her skin by less than a hair’s breadth but removing the drool maggot. Cookie seemed petrified for another heartbeat, but she took out a makeup kit immediately afterwards and quickly erased all remaining trace of the offensive spittle. She checked her appearance in a hand-held mirror for a good minute and eventually nodded, satisfied.
Only then did her bright smile returned. She directed its full bloom at the elf. “Thanks, Maf! You’re the bestie long-ear!”
Máforteru Eressëa just waved the compliment off, as if retrieving a training arrow from his inventory and shooting correctly from a sitting position in less than a breath of time wasn’t anything impressive. “Belleruraina would do the same thing for me.” His tone was dull and matter-of-fact. He looked after where Winnifred had left. “What happened with Veryamedliel?”
The cat-man could only sigh.
Cookie sniggered. “What did he do this time?”
Daniel-San sighed again. “He was kidnapped in front of our house, then somehow released, and neglected to contact us right away.”
“Oopsie~. Elly Silly never changes, does he?”
The cat-kin sighed… again. “Alas.”
“…Istmaedhon is steady in his unsteadiness.”
“Winnie is going to be really~ super mad~!” The little girl giggled again, but this time there was something sinister in her laugh. “Poor, poor greenie meanies.”
“…I feel sorry for the troll,” the elf added pensively. He made a quick hand-sign. “May the spirits take pity on his innocent essence.”
“Right…” Daniel-San pushed himself off the tree. “We should go after her… before she gets too antsy and attacks without waiting for us.”
“Alalala!! She can’t! Winnie is too reckless! Too reckless!! Too many boo-boo means too much work for Cookie!” She jumped on her feet, frantic but still taking the time to finish her muffin.
Máforteru stood up in one fluid motion, affixing his bow to his back, and merely nodded his agreement.
As if on cue, a loud roar, coming from several dozen throats, broke the silence of the forest, soon followed by an explosion that shook the ground. Birds flew off in fright. The three guildmates exchanged glances and started running.
Despite their earlier words of restraint, however, a same shared feral smile adorned their faces, and the same bloodthirsty fire lit up their eyes.
* * *
[ Kevin Hatter ]
Kevin stood in the virtual space, watching the moving lines of glyphs that made up the background. It was a code he had designed himself. Entirely new, and more abstract, flexible and reactive than anything before it. It was the base that had made the hyper-realism of Untold Tales possible and allowed computers to take the next steps towards full Artificial Intelligence.
Some people might say the likes of Chaos and Order, the two Primordial Gods of Untold Tales, had already achieved that state, if these people were aware of the extent of their abilities. Kevin disagreed, as did Chaos and Order.
The self-aware programs knew better than anyone the flaws of their own beings. They lacked the spark of imagination and originality that separated book smarts from true intellect. No matter how sophisticated and adaptable their decision tree was, in the end, most of everything about them remained bound by their coding. They also lacked a sapient being’s drive towards self-improvement. Their desire was their purpose, and their purpose was what they’d been created to do.
Currently, a true AI was still impossible to create on purpose, even for a genius like Kevin Hatter, head programmer of the most successful gaming company on Earth.
His musings were interrupted by a portal of shining mercury opening in his virtual space. A tall being emerged from the gateway, their long robe brushing against the ground without ever actually touching it. A perfectly symmetrical face with closed eyes turned to Kevin, and Order bowed ever so slightly.
“Creator.”
Kevin’s expression turned into a teasing smile as he waved a table into existence—really a large writing desk decorated with ravens. He sat down, a chair appearing underneath him at the last second as he did so. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Daddy?”
“At least one more time, I’m afraid.” Order replied without the slightest hint of humour. A slight twitch agitated their placid face as they sat down on another chair, carefully folding their robes to keep them from wrinkling. “Is Chaos hiding somewhere?”
“No. I think he’s practising being fashionably late.” Kevin observed with an equal amount of fascination and frustration the fleeting emotions his answer caused in the program’s avatar. So close. Order was so close to full sapience, Kevin almost could believe it would happen any second. Although, he knew better.
Order had initially been programmed as a purely apathetic entity. They were Order: stable, solid, unaffected, only driven by purpose and cold logic. Watching them slowly evolve beyond that basic framework had been one of Kevin’s greatest pride, equalling that of seeing his four daughters grow up. However, for the past several months, that evolution was stuck at a bottleneck and, he couldn’t figure out a way past it.
He’d expected it, though. He knew his limits and, by extension, those of his creations. Sadly, it didn’t ease the disappointment—not in Order, of course, but in his own inability to set them free, as a proper parent should.
A loud clucking broke through his thoughts and marked the flashy irruption into the virtual space of a distinguished gentleman wearing a patchwork redingote and a top hat—as well as a few charred chicken feather for some reason. He bowed extravagantly and addressed the two others a bright smile. “Hello, dear. Hello, father. May I say both of you look positively cheerful at the moment?”
Order, deadpan as ever and not even remotely cheerful, shut him down with a fast, “You are late.”
Chaos fell flat on his face, tripping on nothing.
“I even reminded you twice, going as far as to entertain that silly insistence we behave like a married couple. I’m trying here, so why won’t you?” Order’s flat delivery made it hard to know if they truly cared.
Chaos dissolved into a cloud of glitter that flew to Order and reformed as a blonde woman in a slinky cocktail dress kneeling by Order’s chair. She took their hand and looked up with a pleading look. “But, darling baby, it’s so haaard,” she whined.
Order exhaled something like a sigh. The lean androgynous being looked down at the kneeling woman. Their eyelids cracked open, revealing one entirely black eye and the other solid white. One furtive glance and Order was back to their aloof, close-eyed expression, turned away from both Chaos and Kevin, who was watching the interaction with an endeared but pained smile while sipping the tea he’d summoned for himself.
“I suppose it is not meant to be,” the androgynous god said.
“Toby! Thank you for understanding!” Chaos attempted to jump and hug Order, her gown morphing simultaneously into a kinky bunny-girl outfit, but her androgynous counterpart raised a slender hand, in a movement that looked slow but happened almost instantaneously.
Chaos crashed into an invisible force field and was sent flying out of sight.
Uncaring as ever, Order addressed Kevin with an even voice. “Creator, may I inquire the purpose of this summon?”
“Can’t it be a simple family gathering? Gina should be here in a few as well.” The god of uniformity didn’t grace that answer with a comment, although the corners of their mouth twitched imperceptibly upwards at the second sentence. Kevin coughed a chuckle before turning serious. “How are things progressing?”
“According to plan, within the margin of error.” Order answered matter-of-factly.
But then again, in their opinion, everything always went “according to plan, within the margin of error.” Even the troublesome situation at the origin of this very meeting fell within their prediction. Only, it had 0.0000001% probability of happening, and thus no contingency had initially been drafted, forcing Order to improvise for the first time in a very long while, and causing them to feel slightly more irritated than usual. “The Threat is being contained for now.”
“We’re all gonna die.” Chaos materialised at the table, in the guise of a rabbit wearing a hangman’s noose around his neck like a tie, his ever-present top hat raggedy and askew on his long drooping ears. “The world is going to end, and we can’t do nothing to stop it.” The rabbit downed a shot of some unidentified alcohol and sighed gloomily.
“How pragmatic.” Order’s face looked like they were brushed by the urge to roll their eyes. “Your only stable characteristic is that you are consistently unhelpful.”
“How is your champion doing, Bob?” Kevin changed target.
“Randomly,” the rabbit answered with the utmost seriousness, munching on a broccoli.
“……never mind.” Kevin sighed. Even though his virtual body couldn’t become sore in this place, he had the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. Instead, though, he cackled madly. “Oh, well. If the world does end, we’ll just call it a failure and launch another game.”
“It is still premature to give up.”
“Oh? And what about you, Toby? Did you formally announce your champion yet?”
“Please do not use that nickname, Creator. I have a proper name. As for my Apostle, there is a time and a place for all things. They shall be revealed to the world at the point when it most benefits us. I won’t reveal any more details on the player I chose for now, as at this point this would breach the privacy protocols you asked us to implement strictly.”
“Can’t you even give me a riddle?”
“I cannot. However, I can guaranty with a high degree of certitude that my pick will prove actually useful.” They sounded almost smug about it.
“Hey! I resent that! My Apostle is super useful!” The rabbit turned into a spoon in a puff of smoke, and the spoon pouted. Why into a spoon? Likely, not even he… she… it knew.
“Their path of destruction speaks otherwise.”
“Unfortunate incidents,” the spoon protested, “and the results are positive so far.”
“Pure luck.”
“That’s how I roll—bububububuummmmmmmh!!!”
Kevin had picked up Chaos, now spoon, and was using it to stir some sugar into his steaming tea, deaf to the god’s bubbling screams. “Well, in any case… one thing is certain.” He brought the cup to his lips and drank with a smile. “This tea is delicious.”
“…am I the only one taking this issue seriously?” Order’s question was met with a joined tilt of the head from their creator and a tilt of the bowl from her spouse, who still was a spoon.
The god sighed. “We might indeed all die.”
* * *
[ Narrator ]
A large disc of barren earth and scattered debris surrounding a deep crater were all that was left of the town of Cali. Underneath the black thunderclouds, lit up by the pasty glow of lightning, and battered by cold winds, the scene gave off a feeling of apocalypse.
Shadows were creeping in that desolate landscape. Bits of denser darkness converged from the devastation and aggregated into a vaguely humanoid shape, soon covered by a cloak which remained disturbingly unaffected by the gale.
Stretching immaterial senses, Faceless contemplated the surrounding gravely and came to a foregone conclusion.
“……shit.”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU USELESS PATHETIC SERVANT?!”
The elemental nearly broke down from the sudden invasion.
“…Master… I… lost… them.” By this admission, death was the only outcome.
“YOU WRETCHED VERMIN! ARE YOU TAKING ME FOR A FOOL?! OF COURSE, I KNOW YOU LOST THEM! HOW COULD I NOT FEEL THEIR PRESENCE VANISH FROM THE KINGDOM?! I SHOULD SEND YOU BACK TO THAT JEWEL I FOUND YOU IN!!”
A shiver ran down the being’s inexistent spine. The centuries of solitude, sealed away inside a cursed jewel, had been the worst. Worse than death by leagues.
“My… grovelling… apologies… Mast—”
“Don’t waste my time in useless grovelling, you imbecile! You are lucky I do not summon you back right this instant to utterly obliterate you!”
“…Master?” Faceless wondered if hope there might still be.
“Azred deciphered the location of another of the Seven Artefacts from the queen’s diary. You will go retrieve it for me.”
“But… the… princess… ?”
“She will come back. The key will lead her back into Our grasp soon enough. NOW OBEY!! Otherwise, you will definitely wish you never awoke to consciousness! GO!!”
“Yes…!!”
“……”
“……”
“…where?”
“In the outside world.”
* * *
[ Me ]
I wake up with a sudden start.
I open my eyes, and I realise that I’m lying on the floor in my entryway—for reasons I cannot quite remember—but, gods! Does my nose hurt!? My head’s a bit fuzzy too…
Touching my face, I find it swollen and sticky with drying viscous fluid. I take a look at my hand… and realise I can’t see anything because the light in the hallway is still broken. I give it a lick.
Blood.
My eyes widen as I suddenly remember something.
“I forgot Mr Fluffy Hollow at Eva’s house!!!”
…priorities, Nick. Priorities.
* * * * *