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Prototype's Gate
Act 2. Chapter 11

Act 2. Chapter 11

Alex walked through the crowd, descending the stairs where his gaze briefly locked with Raphael’s. The devil sat lazily in a chair by the window, a small round table before him with a set of chess pieces neatly arranged. Raphael flashed a charming smile, then turned his attention back to the view outside, dismissing Alex as if he were nothing more than a passing curiosity.

Ignoring the devil’s presence, Alex continued to the docks beneath the inn. He found the door leading to the cellar and stepped inside. The air was thick and musty, with the scent of damp stone and mold clinging to the walls. Racks of wine, crates, and sacks were haphazardly placed along the walls.

As Alex ventured further, he could see a small natural canal through iron grates ahead, with water flowing steadily through it. Twisted vegetation grew around the edges, adding to the sense of decay that permeated the space.

He turned and saw the cells—one to the left, one straight ahead. As he glanced toward the cell straight ahead, something skittered away through a crack in the wall. It moved quickly, and Alex barely caught a glimpse of its form before it vanished—some kind of big insect , its dark carapace gleaming momentarily in the dim light.

In the cell to the left, bound in chains, was Marcus, the Flaming Fist who had tried to kidnap Isobel. Marcus was a pitiful sight, wearing only his undergarments. His eyes were hollow, a mixture of pain and fear evident in his expression as he realized who stood before him.

When Marcus lifted his gaze and recognized Alex, his eyes widened in terror. Before he could utter a word, Alex waved his hand, sending a psionic wave that struck Marcus like a hammer. The man’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into unconsciousness, slumping against the chains that held him.

Alex moved to a wall and slid down to sit, leaning against the cold stone. He used his psionic power to create a barrier, ensuring that no sound from within the cellar could reach the outside. The silence was absolute, almost suffocating.

"What the fuck is happening to me?" Alex murmured in english, his voice barely more than a whisper as he stared up at the cobweb-covered ceiling. "Why am I feeling like this?"

His usually calm mind was now a raging tide, churned by the surge of emotions that had begun to overwhelm him. Pity for Lae'zel, empathy for Isobel, the gnawing dread that he could become someone like Ketheric Thorm, and the deep sorrow he felt when he saw Yona’s grave and realized no one would mourn him—only remember him as a monster. All of it weighed heavily on his mind, pulling him deeper into a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts and feelings.

He knew he could always shut down these emotions, turn his mind cold and calculated once more, but something inside him resisted. He wanted to feel this—to experience what it meant to be human, not just a cold, unfeeling...monster.

Alex tried to pinpoint when this all began. "When I absorbed the crystal at the underground outpost... No, it was after I absorbed the blood of Lathander... My soul," he mused, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Did Lathander do something to my soul?"

The question lingered in the air, unanswered, as he stared into the darkness.

Alex's gaze drifted down to his hand, watching as his fingers slowly opened and closed, the motion almost mechanical in its repetition. The door to the cellar creaked open, the sound reverberating through the silence. Heavy footsteps echoed softly as someone approached him.

He lifted his head and saw a short, armored figure standing to his left—Glut, with his deep green eyes fixed on Alex.

Glut grunted, lowering himself to the floor next to Alex.

"So, you’ve finally cracked," Glut remarked, his voice carrying a bluntness that caught Alex off guard.

Alex stared at him , unsure of what he meant.

"You know," Glut continued, "since you turned me into this and established our connection, I could feel your emotions—just like you could probably feel mine." Alex nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words.

Their connection wasn’t primarily bridged by the tadpoles but by a more primal hive mind link. It was cruder, with greater range, but it didn’t allow for spoken communication. Instead, they communicated through shared emotions, a visceral exchange of feelings.

"Since I met you, your emotions have gradually intensified, and right now, they’re spilling through our link. But it doesn’t bother me," Glut added.

"Why?" Alex asked, surprised by Glut’s admission.

"Our kind has a ritual called 'melding ' where all the myconids merge their minds together. It’s the most blissful thing I’ve ever experienced. But once I became a sovereign, I lost the ability to mend with my brethren, just like all the sovereigns before me and all those who will follow. That’s when emotions like hate, jealousy, anger, and more took root in my mind. They guided me, clouding my thoughts, until you killed me. Now, my mind feels much calmer, but I still miss melding with my brethren. That’s why I’m here."

"Do you want to meld with me?" Alex asked, the question hanging in the air between them.

Glut nodded. "It will help you calm your turbulent mind."

Alex considered this, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him like a storm. Perhaps this was what he needed.

"Alright," Alex agreed quietly.

As Glut extended his hand towards Alex, a mutual understanding passed between them. Alex reached out in return, and as his tendrils of flesh extended from his hand, they pierced through Glut's armor effortlessly. The tendrils spread across Glut's body like roots seeking nourishment, intertwining with his very essence. Glut remained composed, his eyes closed in concentration, while Alex worked to restore the myconid's lost ability to meld.

A low grunt escaped Glut as Alex retracted the tendrils, signaling the completion of the process. Glut opened his eyes briefly as he extended his hand to Alex, ready to proceed .

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Wait a second," Alex said, stepping out of the bubble that had insulated them from the outside world. He quickly dragged a large barrel to block Marcus’s cell door, ensuring that the prisoner could not witness what was about to unfold. Through their telepathic link, he commanded Lump, “Lump, come to the cellar door and let no one pass through.” Satisfied that they would not be disturbed, Alex returned to Glut, their hands interlocking in a firm grasp.

The moment their hands touched, a wave of warmth surged through Alex, soothing the tempest that had raged within him. Their minds began to merge—not through the exchange of words, but through the raw, unfiltered transmission of emotions and understanding.

It was as though they were drifting together in an endless sea of tranquility, where their thoughts and feelings melded into one harmonious current. In this shared consciousness, Alex felt something extraordinary—a song, the most beautiful melody he had ever encountered. It resonated with his very being, vibrating deep within his soul as if it had always been there, waiting to be discovered.

The storm that had battered Alex’s mind for so long finally stilled, leaving behind a profound sense of clarity and peace. Glut's presence was a constant, grounding force beside him, anchoring him in this newfound serenity. The connection they shared in that moment was unlike anything Alex had ever experienced—a deep, abiding bond that transcended the physical, linking their very souls in a moment of perfect unity.

...

While Glut and Alex were melding, Jaheira, Isobel, Halsin, and Zevlor gathered around a table in Isobel’s room, the tension between them thick and heavy.

“Did you know he could do that?” Jaheira asked Halsin, her eyes sharp and questioning, as if she could cut through him with a glance.

“I didn’t,” Halsin replied, his voice steady but colored with the surprise he had felt earlier. “I was as shocked as everyone else when his head fell to the floor, and he just picked it up like nothing had happened.”

Jaheira shook her head, skepticism evident in her expression. “And are you sure he’s a good guy?”

Halsin opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Isobel spoke up with conviction. “It’s impossible for him not to be. Lathander and Selûne are keeping a close watch on him.”

“And the Oak Father,” Halsin added, redirecting their focus to him. “I could sense a faint trace of divinity originating from Him as well.”

Jaheira exhaled slowly, the sharpness in her demeanor softening slightly. “At least we can be certain he’s on our side. From what you’ve all told me, I wasn’t eager to face him in battle. But now, we need to discuss our next steps for the coming days.” Her gaze swept over everyone at the table, making sure they understood the gravity of the situation.

The atmosphere grew heavier as they considered the challenges before them. Jaheira had shared what Alex discovered at Moonrise Tower: an Elder Brain, one of the most deadly creatures in the realm, was somehow imprisoned by the cultists and used to control the minds of those infected with tadpoles. But that wasn’t their only problem. Their rations were dwindling rapidly due to the prisoners Alex had saved from the tower, most of whom had barely eaten anything in at least two weeks and the looming threat of an surprise attack weighed heavily on their minds.

“I propose we ask Zeus what to do,” Zevlor suggested, his voice steady despite the fear that gripped the group. Alex had already saved them once, and without him, the tieflings who were captured would have met a fate worse than death, especially after hearing what the people Alex saved had endured while imprisoned.

The room fell silent as everyone considered the suggestion. Alex had proven to be a complex and unpredictable ally, but he was also immensely powerful—perhaps powerful enough to stand against the Elder Brain.

Isobel nodded slowly. “He has insights that none of us do, and with the gods watching over him, he may be our best chance.”

Halsin agreed. “His connection to these divine forces is strong. If anyone can find a way to stop this, it’s him.”

Jaheira’s expression softened into one of reluctant agreement. “Very well. We’ll consult with him, but we must be prepared for anything. An Elder Brain isn’t just another foe—it’s a creature that can bend minds and wills to its command, and someone has found a way to imprison it. We need a plan that considers every possible outcome.”

Zevlor leaned forward, his expression resolute. “Whatever it takes, we stand together. We cannot afford to falter now.”

“What about Wyll’s party and their artifact that protects their minds from beeing control?” Isobel asked.

“The artefact has githyanki origins and is somehow bonded with one of their members , an half elf named Shadowheart .Their leader, Wyll, agreed to infiltrate the towers to find a way to kill Ketheric Thorm,” Jaheira replied, “but Zeus’s lead about the necromancer Balthazar could prove a better use of our time.”

As they began to strategize, the weight of their task loomed over them, but there was a glimmer of hope. If Alex could lead them against the Elder Brain, they just might stand a chance.

...

Right below the , Wyll’s party wasn’t faring much better.

“What were you thinking?” Wyll asked, his tone sharp as he glared at Lae'zel, clearly displeased with her recent actions.

Lae'zel didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she looked down at the githyanki egg in her hands, gently running her fingers over its surface. Her expression was a storm of conflicting emotions, all stirred up by Alex's words and the disturbing visions he had shown her. Whenever she closed her eyes, she was haunted by the images—Githyanki warriors, just like her, dying horrible deaths, their last breaths spent pleading for their queen to save them. But the cruelest truth Alex had revealed was that the queen herself was responsible for their demise.

"What if he was..." Lae'zel's thoughts trailed off, a whisper of doubt creeping into her mind, something she never would have allowed before.

“Lae'zel was clearly shaken by recent events. She wasn’t thinking clearly when she attacked Zeus,” Gale interjected from the side. He was looking much healthier after Elminster had stabilized the orb within him.

“I think she’s lucky to be alive,” Astarion remarked with a mocking smile. He could still vividly remember the carnage Zeus had unleashed while defending the grove, a force that had sent shivers down his spine.

Lae'zel remained silent, lost in her thoughts, the egg cradled protectively in her arms.

“Has anyone seen Karlach?” Shadowheart asked, breaking the heavy silence. “I haven’t seen her since we arrived here.”

“I think she said she was tired and needed some sleep,” Gale replied. “She didn’t want to stay with us, probably worried her flames might start a fire in here. Maybe we should check on her, make sure she’s alright.”

With that, everyone but Lae'zel left the room, as they went to find Karlach. Lae'zel stayed behind, still deeply engrossed in her turbulent thoughts, her grip on the egg tightening as if it were the only thing keeping her anchored to reality.

...

When the melding was complete, Alex felt more centered and composed than ever before. It was a profound calm, a tranquility that he had never experienced until now. He looked at Glut, who simply nodded, his expression unreadable, but the gesture clearly meant, You’re welcome.

"Thank you," Alex whispered, his voice heavy with sincere gratitude.

Glut grunted, this time with a hint of satisfaction. "You’re still an abomination," he said, his tone gruff but not entirely unkind, "but maybe you’re not beyond saving." He began to stand up but paused as if remembering something. "Oh, I forgot something," Glut added nonchalantly.

Without warning, Glut delivered a powerful punch to Alex's head, the impact denting and cracking the protective dome around his face. "That’s for making me take care of those obnoxious meat bags," Glut grunted, satisfied, before turning and leaving the room without another word.

Once the duergar-myconid hybrid was gone, Alex quickly healed the damage from the punch, his body mending the cracks as though they had never been there.

He checked the internal organ that functioned like a clock within his body—an ability he had gained after consuming the spectator in the Underdark. Their melding had taken exactly 2 hours, 11 minutes, and 43 seconds.

Rising to his feet, Alex moved the barrel away from the front of Marcus's cell. As he did, his gaze fell upon the charred, lifeless body of Marcus was now nothing more than a burnt husk.