Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
********
"Fuck!" I screamed as I awoke.
I recognized the clinic right away.
Bloodborne.
As a rule of thumb, I wasn't a very wrathful person. I got annoyed with others plenty of times, but I wasn't a furious person by nature.
Sadistic? Certainly.
Petty? The pettiest.
But I rarely got really mad, and when I did, I usually channelled it to further my goals.
Even at my lowest point, when Melina had just died, and I wanted to inflict violence upon the world, I sought specific targets to further my goals rather than return to Limgrave and burn the countryside. The latter would have been easier but pointless in the long run.
Crash!
So you can imagine how pissed off I was when I started tearing the room to pieces as soon as I woke up.
"Fuck!" I shouted again as I flipped the gurney I had been lying on. I was in an unenhanced body, so it was difficult, but my rage lent me strength. Wood splintered as the heavy object tipped on its side with a vibrating bang. "I was right there!"
The frame of the doorway shattered as I kicked the handle.
"That was my body. MY BODY!"
Glass shattered as I swept a table of the vials and beakers that covered it.
"I was free!"
I grabbed an IV stand and smashed around the room. Over and over until the metal bent and my hand shook from the rebound.
"Godamn it all!" I shouted in pain and rage as the bent metal shattered in my hands, shards flying around the room and into my arm.
A rumbling growl rolled behind me.
I whirled, snarling at whoever had disturbed my venting.
A scourge beast was hunched in the doorway.
Attracted by my yelling, it had climbed the stairs and found the door open from my kick.
Perfect.
It lunged at me, mouth open to tear me to pieces.
I shoved my hand in its open maw.
It bit down, teeth digging deep into the flesh of my upper arm, but it didn't have the leverage to tear it from me.
The pain was nothing compared to my rage.
My other hand drove the shattered end of the IV stand into its fucking eye.
It snarled in pain, claws swiping at my face and arms as it flailed through its death throes.
It died quickly as I impaled it over and over, plunging my improvised weapon down into its other eye, throat, and chest. As it stilled, I repeatedly plowed the metal into the dead beast, covering myself in its blood as it fanned up in spurts.
Over and over, dozens of times, I vented my frustration upon the wolf's body.
By the time I stopped, panting from breath, the scourge beast was a lump of flesh, fur, and blood.
I threw the bloody piece of metal away, my wounds healing as the blood covering my form was absorbed.
"Ok," I said to myself, panting. "Ok. We were close. So close! So what went wrong?" I sat in the corner of the destroyed room as I calmed my heartbeat and rage. "What worked and what didn't? What do I know now that I didn't before? We tested a hypothesis, and it didn't work. That's how science gets made. We only need it to work once. A million failures are irrelevant if I make a million and one attempts. And I have all the time in the world."
That was both a good thing and a bad thing.
If I was to trust what I saw in that 'vision quest,' I would be stuck in a never-ending jail.
I told myself this could be a good thing, desperate to regain control.
Not the eternal imprisonment that was bad, but what it meant for gaining my freedom.
If I was alone and the Island and the Dragon were not a factor, my never-ending progression through Soulsborne games could be seen as an eternal damnation situation.
But the Island did exist, as did the women on it and the Dragon, which meant whoever set this up wanted things this way. I wasn't the sole factor here.
More than that, I had actually gotten out of Elden Ring and seen the Chain of Worlds.
Though the ending had been a fop, I had been free of my prison for a short while, which meant the ritual had worked.
Which meant escape was possible.
When I thought about it, there were two possibilities.
Either someone had set this eternal damnation of myself and the women on the Island and wasted all the effort, time, and materials on something with no payout.
I considered this highly unlikely as I was far from significant enough to matter to someone who could set this all up.
Or.
I was meant to escape, and each world was another chance to do something that led to that end.
So, following that logic, how could I escape?
As connected as they were, my time in the Dark Souls worlds had been a waste of time.
I thought I would be released from jail after serving my sentence.
I knew now I should have pulled a Shawshank and tried to dig a hole with a spoon. If I was being generous, then the entire trilogy was a training montage before shocking me with Elden Ring as a way to tell me to get off my ass and escape already.
So, now I needed to organize what I knew about my situation, including the information I had learned in the last few minutes.
(Hours/years/lightyears? How does one quantify travelling outside a multidimensional prison and through the void of space?)
I shook my head from the silly thought. I needed to focus. If I knew the rules of the game, then I could win.
First off, what went wrong?
That was easy to understand once I gave it a little thought.
I had tried to be summoned into a body that I already inhabited. I knew I was connected to the Dragon. Emma had proved that. I figured my consciousness could still move from the body I inhabited at the end of Elden Ring to the one floating in space.
Looking back at the idea, I realized how silly the idea had been. It was like trying to put on a pair of pants that you were already wearing. It didn't make a lick of sense.
So, now that I know the point of failure, what could I do differently?
Be summoned to the Island directly? That might work, but it would only trap me with the women.
I'd leave that as a last resort.
What else do I know about my situation?
I had to focus all my attention on how things had been present from the start.
Priscilla, the floofy dragon she was, had shown me that it didn't matter who I bound or how many. They couldn't affect me, and I couldn't affect them. Everything set up was based solely on the women I had 'purchased' and myself.
So, what were the game's rules that had been consistent from the get-go?
First, the women of the Island can only help indirectly.
That had been a constant throughout this entire time. While on my side of the gate, they could not influence or touch the world. They could use their abilities fine and could still sense things around them, but the most significant threat they posed was with their words.
Which, to be fair, was a rather significant threat to me.
The second point was that the Catalogue was fucked.
While it was something that had been evident from the get-go, a few things stood out now that I looked back on it. The best way to evaluate what I knew of the new situation with the WC was to look at the most significant change.
The Defences.
When I first wrote that story, I focused on min-maxing four aspects. DDTW. Dragon. Defence. Talent. Waifus.
I had limited myself to ten waifus and chosen them after careful thought. I won't lie and say my dick didn't have a say. It certainly did, but I had been focusing on realistic choices since I wouldn't be controlling them. I had chosen primarily heroes or those who worked with heroes because they would be more cooperative. After that, I narrowed the focus to those with traits that would lessen the cost of the defences. From there, I focused on utility after getting a few powerhouses.
Everything I had purchased was present, except for the Defences. Those were the only things gone.
On top of that, extra items were bought that I had never purchased. If I did the math, easy enough since the memories of the costs were carved into my mind, then I had spent about 450 points on Defenses. That was due to Dragon heritage giving me a ton for free. I then halved that cost by purchasing waifus that gave discounts.
The cost of the Island alone was worth more than I was missing in points.
I had thought up various possibilities over the years, such as the waifus coming 'used' and at a discount, but even that didn't make up for the sheer amount of points spent on the Island.
So, where was the extra currency coming from?
And why were Defences removed?
What about them specifically was so crucial that whoever set this up would allow me to become immortal through miracles but wouldn't let me the simple peace of Mind Defence?
The one I wanted more than any other.
As far as I know, it would provide no advantage in any Soulsborne world.
I shook off my thoughts' aggravating spiral and refocused on what else I knew.
The third and final point I confirmed recently was that I wasn't being teleported to new worlds.
My spirit was.
The bodies all looked the same for the most part, but I could feel the difference in each one. Little scars from the most potent foes disappeared between worlds. Different locations of freckles or birthmarks. The bodies all looked like me, as if someone found the closes approximation they could, but it wasn't exactly correct.
When I entered a new world as a level one wretch, or whatever the equivalent was, I wasn't being weakened and put there. Instead, I was leaving an old body behind and entering a new one.
A reset.
Early on, when I heard about the Dragon that slept around the Island, I feared someone else was in that body. My fears had been mitigated with the Emma incident, as she had managed to connect to it through me.
Of course, a much bigger problem was discovered then, but the worry of an imposter moving my meat suit had been put to rest. The theory of my hopping bodies was reinforced when the Soul of Cinder assumed my form in that final fight.
It was confirmed when I faced the Dragon around the Jewel. While I had not possessed the body, I could sense its power.
And it had been Mine.
My power. My magic. My fire. All supercharged and wrapped up in a massive gift box I couldn't open.
I kicked a table over before taking a deep breath and calming down again.
When had I started pacing?
No matter.
I could summarise everything I knew under those three umbrella statements.
So, what did it all mean?
What unifying thread tied all those three together, and how could I use it to escape?
Was there a unifying thread at all?
There had to be.
I was a big believer in cosmic coincidences. Sometimes things just happen through the complex nature of chaos.
When I first appeared in that cell all those centuries ago, I thought I had been a victim of one of those. Fallen through the cracks between dimensions and left to rot. Initially, I had taken the command seals as an extension of my Dark Sign.
Over the years and after everything I learned, it was clear that all this was deliberate.
Someone had put me in this situation. Likely the Company.
Thus, there was a thread of logic here that I wasn't grasping. Even if I didn't know the 'Why,' if I could piece out the 'What,' I could solve the mystery.
Let's simplify it to the extreme.
Intangible waifus. Messed up Catalogue. Dragon Body and wandering spirit.
Waifus. Catalogue. Dragon.
Waifus. Catalogue. Dragon.
Waifus. Catalogue. Dragon.
I paced in that sick room for minutes, muttering under my breath, my frustration mounting.
Then I was struck by an epiphany.
It wasn't waifus, Catalogue, Dragon.
It was waifus, Defences, Dragon.
Once I had that thought, the puzzle fell into place.
Piece by agonizing piece.
I felt sick and nauseous.
I broke out into a cold sweat, my limbs trembling.
The room was spinning, and I leaned on a cabinet to steady myself.
Horror overcame me as I realized how I could free myself.
One time, and once only, those three factors came together.
Robin had explored the outside of the Dragon's body (intermittently due to the nature of space and her abilities) but could not provoke a response from it.
Only once had one of the women drawn a response from the great beast. Something only possible because of my lack of defences.
I shook in fear as I realized what I needed to do.
*********
Ranni awoke to sensation.
For the first time in centuries, she could feel.
She could feel the silken sheets under her body and smell the fresh linen. She could feel the press of the covers. She could feel the warmth of the blanket and the cool air.
Ranni lay there for minutes, luxuriating in the feelings.
Not since she had discarded her flesh had sensation been a part of her life.
No pain, hunger, taste, touch, or smell had been part of her life since she had killed her body and cast aside the carcass upon that Divine Tower. She felt neither cold nor heat. Even the touch of her Lord Husband, his embrace and kiss, were images she could see but not feel.
After minutes, a realization came, and Ranni sat up in surprise.
Looking down, she breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the four blue arms similar to that of her teacher, the Snow Witch.
For a moment, the Goddess of the Chill Moon had feared that she was in her original flesh and Mikael would not be able to identify her. Though a part of her was disappointed that she wouldn't be able to hold her taller body against the man.
He often teased her about her height.
Looking around the room, Ranni realized it was modelled after her own chambers in Raya Lucaria from her youth. Luxuriously appointed and filled with books. There were a few devices, electronics she knew now, that were new.
As the blue-skinned woman dressed, revelling in the feeling of good fabric, she cast a few spells.
Her storage still contained all it had before, such as the Godslaying and Fingerslaying blades. The dolls, both her larger one and the miniature one Mikael had carried, were now pointless, but Ranni decided to keep them for sentimentality purposes.
Ranni's magic, more potent than ever due to her ascension and Lord Husband's gift, worked as usual. Though she was a bit surprised she could still split her spirit from her flesh if she wished. This new flesh acted as a more comfortable and powerful doll than a body.
Ranni didn't care about that. At least she could consummate her marriage now.
Assured of her power and ability to fulfill her wifely duties now that she possessed a beating heart, the Goddess set out to find the other inhabitants of the Island.
With any luck, she would also find her Lord.
Her room was one of six in the hall, and beyond was a landing. On the opposite side were an identical hall and a set of double doors between the two corridors. Ranni descended the nearby stairs and made her way outside from the foyer.
Seeing and hearing no one, Ranni realized the ritual would have been cast while outside in case of any accidents.
Stepping from the front door, Ranni looked skywards as light bathed the mansion on the hill.
Two moons hung there.
The first was familiar.
It was a ring of pale blue with a dark center. Snow-like particles flittered across it. Within the black middle were rings of gold intertwined in a symbol that matched the one on her lower right hand's ring finger. The Elden Ring and the Dark Moon would forever follow her now, symbols of her Order.
A symbol of her Lord Husband and her union.
The Chill Moon was at its zenith, covering a fifth of the sky and bathing the world in a pale blue glow.
The other moon was much smaller and was still rising.
The Blood Moon was on the horizon, touching the western sea. Its red glow covered the Island in a dreary light.
As Ranni stared at the red orb, head tilted in curiosity, she realized something.
That was no moon.
Really, what sort of Island had Mikael sent her to?
Looking around, Ranni spotted a familiar Spirit Steed in a field in the distance.
Torrent was grazing lazily, surrounded by four red drakes of impressive size. The draconic beings towered over the horned horse but seemed wary to approach. One would get close, sniffing Torrent in curiosity before backing away. Another would repeat the action, and so on.
Ranni looked on in curiosity before, like her Lord Husband, shrugging her shoulders.
If Torrent had no problem with them, then she wouldn't either. The Spirit Steed was the best judge of character the Goddess had ever met.
Looking beyond the animals, Ranni spotted a gathering of women and started approaching them. They were just a short distance from the mansion, set out in a circle in the field beyond the orchard.
As she approached, the Goddess got her first good look at her Lord Husband's consorts.
They were of various sizes, hair and skin colours, and clothing. Ranni knew they were all 'fictional' figures from Mikael's mythology and were all women of skill and power.
A part of her was jealous of some of the figures. Their height, of course, as some were of a height or even taller than her Lord, but more than that, she was envious of their full figures. A few of the blondes' bodies had Ranni looking at her own in petulance.
Baring their beauty, the only unifying factor of these women was their position.
To a woman, they all surrounded a complex magic circle carved into the ground. Blades, weapons, and armour dotted the circle's edge, and the entire site glowed with a familiar red power.
Mikael's blood had been used here.
The women were positioned equidistant from each other and facing the west.
They stood as still as statues, watching the Blood Moon rise.
Every woman there had at least one hand resting upon their navel.
Ranni stared at the eerie scene.
Was this... part of the summoning ritual Mikael had spoken of?
The only sound in the night was the waves of the ocean.
Ranni did not want to risk disturbing her Lord's summoning, but after half an hour of standing there and nobody else moving, she decided to risk it.
"Was it a success? Is he free?"
Like a stone thrown in a calm pond causes ripples, Ranni's questions stirred a response. With perfect synchronicity, eleven women turned to face her.
They stared at her as one, and, for one moment, she thought they would attack.
Then the moment was gone, and the women blinked at her in surprise.
The tallest, a draconic woman in white, was the first to gather her wits as the rest stumbled and shook their head.
"Who art thou?" A scythe appeared in her hand, brandished in the Goddess' direction. In that blade, Ranni could sense a power similar to Destined Death.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
"Ranni?" The one who answered the tall woman's question was a dark-haired woman in purple. "When did you get here? Where's Mikael?"
"T'is what I wish to know," Ranni replied, eyeing the group speculatively. Based on Mikael's description, she could put faces to names on a few of them.
"The ritual worked. I felt it latch on to him." The woman, who Ranni was sure was Medea, was eyeing the circle. The greek witch turned to look skyward. "The second moon is new and blocking my view of the Dragon. Is this your doing?"
"T'is the representation of our Order."
"You'll have to explain that to me later," Medea looked over at the dark-haired woman in purple who had recognized Ranni. "Robin, could you cast a few eyes on the dragon? I don't think it woke up, but I would rather be sure. Something went wrong at the end."
"Sure," Robin closed her eyes, arms crossed over her chest. "Nothing's changed. It's still asleep."
"Scathach, Raven, do you two mind coming here? I want to run as many diagnostics as I can. If we try this again, I want it to work." Two women met with Medea, though Ranni didn't know who was which.
She didn't have time to ask as she was approached by two other women, a blonde and a brunette. Both wore breastplates, open at the top to not inhibit their breathing.
Ranni fought not to stare at their chests enviously.
"Apologies for the confusion," the blonde said. "We knew to expect you but were excited to see Sir Mikael. I am Artoria Pendragon. This is Diana. Would you like to return to the mansion? We can talk while the others work on the spell."
"A pleasure," Diana said. Her eyes roamed Ranni's more diminutive form in evaluation.
What sort of conclusion the woman made, the Goddess couldn't tell, but she did recognize the two names.
King Arthur and Wonder Woman.
Mikael had talked of these two, as well as Scathach, as his 'heavy hitters.' With one of them, he claimed to be able to conquer the Lands Between in a few years. With two of them, he could do it in under one.
With all three?
A month, at most.
Ranni could respect that strength, but she also needed them to know her own position.
"I am sure we have much to discuss, and I look forward to our relationship while we work to free my Lord Husband."
It was like Ranni had slapped all elven women in the face simultaneously.
They all, to a woman, whirled to look at her. Some with wide eyes, some with frowns, and some with glares.
The two in front of her kept their expressions courteous, though the Goddess could see their eyes twitching.
"Yes," Artoria said, her lips pursed and eyes stony. "We have much to discuss. And plenty of time to do it."
It was a well-informed guess on Artoria's part.
Not counting the time while Mikael was between worlds, the man took a while to conquer any new world. To keep track and help with her calculations, Medea had set up an exact count of the times it took.
Dark Souls 1 took ninety-six days from the first summoning to the last.
Two took sixty-six days.
Three was completed the quickest after twenty-nine days.
Elden Ring?
Due to the size of the countries involved and Mikael's unfamiliarity with the source material, it took longer than the other three worlds combined.
One hundred and ninety-eight days.
For the women of the Island, it had been over a year. They had arrived in the late summer on the Island, and it was now mid-fall. Where the mansion was located wasn't affected by the time of year, but the rest of the Island was very seasonal.
By now, all the women were very familiar with each other.
Even Raven, the most introverted of them, considered the others some of her best friends. She only spent every third day locked up in her room now.
She was practically an extrovert.
Despite having many strong personalities in the group, most disagreements were ironed out early in their entrapment. After the blowup with Emma, when Mikael started using command seals, it was commonly agreed to cease conflict to further their goal.
Some were lovers, and some were not. Nobody fought besides little disagreements or during a spar. They spent most of their time together.
Mikael would comment later that it sounded like an all-woman sitcom.
If Artoria was generous with her estimation of Mikael, which she always was, she thought he would finish within three weeks if he was familiar with the world.
If he wasn't? Around the three-month mark.
Plenty of time to study the ritual, get to know Ranni, allow the blue woman to fit in with the group, and find out precisely what the man had been up to in the Lands Between.
The women of the Island knew something significant had happened, they had recognized how happy he had been early on and how devastated he was near the end, but Mikael had not told them anything of the matter.
All of them were looking forward to grilling Ranni on the subject, though there was no rush.
The entire group was surprised when, the next day, Mikael stopped slowing down the summoning, and they were called every three hours rather than every six.
He remained quiet on why, but the women agreed it was a good thing they would be able to see him once every two days rather than wait three and a half.
They thought he was warming up to them.
In a way, they were right. But they didn't have much time to realize the reasons for his behaviour change.
At noon, on the second day after the failed summoning ritual.
It happened when Emma was summoned to the new world for the first time.
The Island shook.
Yoruichi and Scathach, who were exploring the mountains for any changes that might have occurred since the traversal to the new world, would give the most detailed account of what happened.
They were slaughtering a group of werewolf-type enemies that hadn't been on the Island before. They planned to bring their bodies to Medea and Tsunade for their experiments when, as one, their foes froze.
Over the course of less than a second, the lupine bodies dissolved into a bloody mist.
Only due to the dynamic vision these women cultivated all their lives could they observe what happened next.
Yoruichi would describe the crimson spikes that rose from Scathach's red hair like a crown. She would remember the surprise on the Servant's face as scales covered it and her eyes slit. She would vividly depict the speed of the blood-like thorns that sprouted over the warrior queen's body.
Scathach, in turn, would speak of the black fur that covered Yoruichi. At first, the Witch of Dun Scath thought the shinigami was turning into her cat form, but then she noticed the differences. The mouth elongated, unlike a cat, but in a familiar draconic snout. A sinuous tail, covered in scales, grew out of her back.
Both would recall watching the other dissolve into a pale light even as the transformation continued.
Throughout the Island, all life forms would disappear in less than a second.
Some, the wild monsters that called the Island home, would dissolve into a bloody mist.
Others, like Dun Stallion, Torrent, and the four young drakes, would simply close their eyes as their bodies shimmered and vanished.
All but one of the Island's women would undergo transformations as they shimmered in a pale light and disappeared.
The only one not transforming, Ranni would have time to briefly wonder why Tsunade had turned into a green dragon while giving her a check-up before vanishing. Ranni would disappear as well, though in a less dramatic fashion.
The Island, now void of all sapient life, would shake itself apart, shattering into chunks that would dissolve like sea foam on the beach.
The Jewel, its glittering surface reflecting every colour possible, and some that weren't, would pop like a bubble.
As for the Dragon?
It had already faded.
Whatever remnants remained of the Island and the world the women called home for over a year disappeared quickly.
Like the memories of a long-forgotten Dream.
*********
I was old.
While much of my personality remained the same, due to my memories of my past life never fading, there was no denying the weight the years had on me.
I often lamented the fact that the worlds I visited were so realistic. If I was in a game world, I wish all the exploits, glitches, mechanics, and other things I knew well would work as they did in the games.
They didn't.
I couldn't give an exact time frame for obvious reasons, but I spent too long in these games because they were needlessly realistic.
Take Dark Souls 1, for example.
Anor Londo was a city built by and made for gods that towered over humans. It made sense that their city would be incomparable in size to one made by mortals. More than that, the souls series was linear in nature. Of course, there were detours and optional areas, but by and large, the game followed a set route.
The general path was the same as the game.
Getting to the top of Sen's Fortress after ringing the bells would bring you to Anor Londo. From there, I needed to find my way to Gwynevere. But there was no convenient path along the rooftops.
Why would there be?
Bonfires were days or weeks apart by travel, and any death would set me back. The city was teeming with defenders. That wasn't even counting the 'boss runs.'
Ornstein and Smough alone had stopped my progress for over a year.
And that was Anor Londo alone.
The world's largest city was built at the mountain's base to be closer to the gods. Below that had been places like Blightown, New Londo, the Catacombs, Lost Izalith, and others. It made sense that games could only show a small slice of the world.
Strictly speaking, defeating Gwyn in only a quarter of a century was an outstanding achievement. I had never held a cold weapon before escaping that cell. From knowing nothing, I still managed to slay some of the greatest warriors the world had produced.
It was due to my Talents, but I still felt a bit of pride at the feat.
Dark Souls 2 took less time because, even though places were farther apart, I was a much better fighter and died less. Travel times were a bitch, but I had completed all the DLCs and reached Nashandra in under seventeen years. I had spent a few centuries travelling the world afterwards before returning to sit upon the Throne of Want. If we counted that time, I spent the most time in DS2.
From talking to Robin when I awoke in the Cemetary of Ash, I knew it had only been a week or so on their end.
I tried not to think about what that meant for how long I stayed in the fires of the First Flame after killing Gwyn.
The third game took the least time, with all the lands converging on Lothric and my increased skills. I faced the Soul of Cinder about seven years after I started.
Elden Ring was a completely different beast.
First of all, I had no idea what I was doing.
I didn't know the 'critical path' to mainline the game. I did everything I could by the end because I didn't want to miss anything that would lead to a 'bad end.'
I failed to save Melina but didn't want to fail anyone else.
Second of all, Elden Ring was home to at least six fucking countries.
Some places, like the Weeping Peninsula and the Haligtree, weren't the size of the others, but these had been warring nations. Each had ruins of towns, mines that supplied material to armies, supply caravans, forts at choke points, and castles at the seat of their powers.
I could teleport to any place with a site of Grace I had attuned myself to, but the distance between those points and finding them meant I spent a massive amount of time on travel.
If it wasn't for Best Boi Torrent, I would have needed to count the time spent in Lands Between centuries rather than decades. As it was, it still almost took me fifty years to reach Marika.
I explain this to put things into perspective.
I was a veteran with centuries of experience combating forces strong enough to be considered gods.
I had fought in places no mortal could withstand under the worst conditions imaginable.
I had travelled across countries and cities built by gods.
Yharnam was like nothing I had faced before.
There was an aesthetic difference, certainly. Gone was western medieval fantasy, replaced by Victorian and Lovecraftian horror. No armour and no magic.
The most significant difference, to me, was in scale.
Yharnam had been built by mortal hands for mortal lives.
In the last half-century or so, there were some supernatural influences from the discoveries of Byrgenwerth and the Healing Church, but those were relatively recent developments.
Even if every inhabitant of Yharnam became a beast and came at me at once, it would still be fewer enemies than in the Undead Burg alone.
Bloodborne was the story of one mortal city and a few nearby settlements. It had a wonderful ambiance, great themes, and memorable stories. It was tied with Dark Souls 1 as my favourite game of all time.
I cared for none of it.
I slaughtered my way through Yharnam.
There was no better way to put it.
I tore my way through its inhabitants. I ripped them to shreds and bathed in their blood to grow my strength. I found Gascoigne and the Tomb of Oedon within half a day of waking up in the clinic.
I hacked him to pieces using an ordinary axe taken from the corpse of a citizen.
From there, things snowballed as I gained access to more tools to aid my Hunt. Though I was no longer undead, I needed neither food nor sleep as the Dream sustained me.
By the end of the second day, I had slain several bosses, including Vicar Amelia, and was making my way to Byrgenwerth.
I was delayed a bit due to the Nightmare Frontier being larger than expected, but I managed to kill Rom on the sixth day.
When Scathach was summoned on the seventh day, she found me sitting upon the One Reborn.
It took me almost half a century to kill the Elden Beast.
I squished Mergo, and its Wetnurse, within ten days.
Even spending time rescuing everyone I could, I still managed to 'beat' the game within a fortnight.
Then I had time to kill, waiting to summon one specific woman.
I entered the Hunters Nightmare and put its inhabitants to rest. Hunter and Kin.
That took me five days.
I still had five weeks to kill, so I dived into the twisting labyrinths of the Chalice Dungeons below the city.
From waking up in the clinic to facing the Moon Presence, in those seven weeks, I never died once.
I kept up my Hunt even as I delved deeper and deeper.
I didn't need to think of my plan if I was fighting and killing.
I would be wracked with fear and panic if I stopped for as little as ten minutes.
I would start making excuses, trying desperately to find an alternative to what I saw as the only escape plan that would work.
No luck.
No matter how I rolled it over in my head, I could find no other alternative.
I needed Emma.
I waited in fear and terror for the one woman who could free me.
Or doom me.
********
Emma Frost.
Mutant. Hero. Villain.
She was a complicated character at the best of times. She was also the exception to the rule concerning my choices of Waifus.
The closest to a villain beside her was Medea, and anyone who knows even the basics of her myth knows that she was more a victim than a true antagonist.
(She just happened to be a powerful woman, which the greeks saw as the equivalent of being a monster.)
On the other hand, Emma was a complete antagonist in some timelines. Even in the ones where she was a 'hero,' she was a manipulative and cunning woman who did whatever she thought was necessary to get her way.
When writing the initial story, I judged I needed a communication specialist. Coordinating between so many people over large distances would be necessary.
The Soulsborn series was as low-tech as possible without going downright neanderthal. Without Science or Engineering Talent, any tech would be up to the Waifu to maintain or build. It made more sense to go for an ability. That also had the perk of providing discounts on a few Defenses.
Ironically enough, I narrowed my options to Jean Grey or Emma Frost. There were other telepaths I could choose, but they each had their own problems.
I preferred Jean in most continuities, and I had a thing for redheads, but I couldn't stand how she was used as a Mcguffin in others. Her benefit was she was also able to help with her telekinesis. Emma was more consistent in her portrayal and physically tougher with her diamond form.
Ultimately, I decided to go with Emma because I knew what I was getting, and my Defences would mitigate the worst she could do.
The short story I wrote was about ten thousand words. We would be in Dark Souls 1 for a few days, then we'd all go home with a few benefits.
The greatest plans of mice and men.
Emma knew all this.
I had let her read my mind for years.
So long as nobody was controlled or had a personality wiped, I had no problem with the standard telepathic abilities.
She had been the one closest to me for decades. I had trusted her to give me mental evaluations and counselling. Bound by my command seal, we explored the various mental effects I was under.
I could have kept her out of my mind after the first few years due to my Mental Talent, but I had extended her my trust.
I had lied to all the other women for over forty years. Heroes, characters I admired, liked, and who professed their love to me, were manipulated.
With Emma, I could ensure they all got along with each other. She was also a massive help in providing Dark Souls residents with happy ends.
While our conspiracy was born of my fear and desire for protection, I sincerely wanted everyone to get out of this situation in the best shape possible.
Partly due to the love forced on me but also because that was the type of person I was.
I went for Good Ends rather than True Ends.
Even Emma, once we were free, and I was far enough away to not be at risk, would have been released from all her Commands.
Ultimately, she would return home immortal, with a perfect body, talents that most could never dream of, a perfectly safe home, and more power than ever.
I could see no reason for her not to work with me.
We all would go home happy.
Our relationship happened by accident, but she had been the only one I could truly confide in and trust.
I cannot exaggerate how much Emma's betrayal hurt me.
She had orchestrated everything, going along with my whims of helping the women of the Island, all so she could turn them to her side. Wonder Woman herself had begged me to free her from my Commands.
As if I wanted any of this!
As if Diana hadn't already doomed me to burn for millennia without hope for rest!
I couldn't begrudge Emma for wanting to be free, but I had already promised that freedom to her.
She had seen my mind.
She knew I was being genuine!
I would never have known that all the women of the Island were free to order me around if Diana hadn't gotten frustrated with the subterfuge.
If I had been afraid before then, I became paranoid after.
Emma was too valuable to cut off completely, especially since I was unfamiliar with Elden Ring, but I could not return to trusting her with my thoughts and plans.
I'm sure she had her own plans and schemes.
Why did she want all the women on her side when she would be the only one returning to the Marvel world?
Why had she waited to have Medea free her instead of doing it the day after I first Commanded her?
Why wait for everyone to reach tier 7?
Why would she only free herself of my commands right before we thought we would be free?
I never asked her those questions.
I couldn't trust her to answer truthfully unless I was willing to use a command spell, and even then, I'm sure she would twist my Command to something that benefitted her.
So yes, Emma Frost and I had a complicated relationship.
Whoever set her as the key to my freedom had royally fucked me over.
********
Emma watched Mikael fight Gehrnam.
It had only been two days since her last summoning. She hoped his willingness to stop pushing them away was a sign they were getting through to him.
That they loved him.
That they did not want to be left behind.
After learning about his time in the Lands Between from Ranni, many of the women of the Island felt more strongly for their summoner than ever.
You didn't need to be a mind reader to know how 'healing a wounded soul' could be a romantic fantasy.
A few weren't happy he had fallen in love with another woman while rejecting them, but they understood his reasoning.
After Melina, they knew he could love. They just needed to prove that he did not need to fear them. That Mikael could trust them.
One day, Mikael would be free. No one on the Island doubted that.
The question was, what came after?
The women had no home but the Island.
No Family but the one they had built for themselves in that great Jewel.
While they had gone a little stir-crazy over the last year, they had been able to keep up their spirits due to their mutual support and goal.
Should Mikael leave them behind one day, Emma was sure many would collapse.
Herself included.
Which made his behaviour so unnerving right now.
When the mutant had been first summoned, Mikael had been waiting.
That wasn't new.
Ever since that disastrous summoning where he 'freed' Emma of her obligations, he was always ready for them with his Command on his lips.
'Never give me an order!'
Only... he did not Command her.
Mikael stood there, eyeing her for over a minute. Brown eyes stared at her with enough intensity to make her shiver.
Emma saw love in those eyes.
The Love she desperately wanted to feel again.
She also saw fear.
A terror so complete that he shook with it.
He was biting his lips hard enough that they bled. His fists were clenched and shaking.
After a minute of staring without saying a word, he stopped shaking and took a deep breath.
Though Emma could not read his mind anymore, she had seen it enough to know the little ritual. The little mantra he told himself to gather his courage. She could imagine the words.
One. Two. Three. Fuck It!
"Keep the gate open and follow me," he bit out, turning from her and walking through the iron gate. It wasn't a Command.
It wasn't a Command!
Emma allowed the smirk to cover her face as she followed behind the man.
Technically, she was still bound from the last time she had been summoned. Medea never freed any of them from the Commands Mikael gave. None of the women told him that, not that he would believe them if told.
Trust, once lost, was hard to gain again.
The fact that he was willing to go without ordering her once more might have been only the first step, but it was the most important.
Now, she only had to prove herself and the others worthy of his trust, and one day, far in the future, they would not be left behind when he was free.
That small measure of trust, plus watching the fight, had put the White Queen in an excellent mood. Her breath was coming in deep bursts.
Her panties were even getting a little wet.
She always liked her men to be the most powerful or dangerous people in a room. She was curious why he wanted the gate open but didn't question it. From what she knew, he had passed a bunch of stuff through Glynda a few hours ago. Did he have more?
A layman watching the fight would think the fighters were evenly matched. They traded dozens of blows, neither seeming to have an advantage.
Emma knew Mikael enough to know when he was playing with his food.
He must completely outclass this man.
Though her summoner was still a blank wall to the mutant's abilities, Gehrman the First Hunter was an open book.
Through his eyes, she saw Mikael fight. Using the weapon of his favourite disciple. Fighting in the same way as the woman he loved.
"Why?" Gehrman growled in fury as his weapon was deflected upon the Rakuyo's smaller blade. "Why are you mocking her? Why are you tormenting me?"
"I'm not," Mikael said calmly. He spoke with supreme confidence. He wasn't even a little out of breath after minutes of combat. There was no chance of him losing. Emma's nipples could cut glass. "I just figured it was appropriate. She would have wanted you to be put to rest. To end the Night. It is not my place to judge you, nor do I want to. Whether you take this as mockery or not is up to you."
It seemed like Mikael was in a philosophical mood.
He got like that sometimes, Emma knew, when his mood turned for the worst.
She had never seen him mad, only contemplative.
Even when he locked her from his mind.
Nevertheless, Gehrman did not see it that way.
In his rage and aggression, he over-extended a swing.
And then it was over.
Mikael used his smaller blade to knock the scythe upward while the longer blade separated the First Hunter's head from his shoulder.
In one smooth motion, Mikael grabbed his opponent's weapons and threw them and his own through the open portal.
Emma did not have time to ask what he was doing before she felt IT's mind.
It was old/young. It was normal/alien. Strong/barely there. Human/other.
Emma blinked back tears, holding her head as blood dripped from her nose.
ITs mind was alien. Wrong. Familiar.
The THING was a mass of tentacles and bloody blades.
It had limbs in the same way Apocalypse was a mutant. You were technically correct but wrong on so many levels it wasn't funny.
Emma watched in a haze as the monster/moon embraced Mikael.
Her summoner/love/everything tore into it with his claws.
Bladed limbs tore into him as claws carved into IT.
Blood covered the field of white flowers, dying it red.
Emma struggled to stand as she watched the battle of man/dragon/moon vs. monster/eldrich being/moon.
Then she blinked, and Her Everything was biting IT's throat out.
IT's blood flowed down His throat, mixing with Him. IT still lived, though they all knew it would die soon.
Consumed.
Mikael/her dragon/her everything faced her, mouth bloody.
His eyes were bloodshot, and he shook with fear as he looked at her. He was bathed in red light.
Emma wanted to cry.
Why?!
Why did he fear her, who would do anything for him, when he could face IT without flinching?
The red light was not the Moon or the Blood.
Six symbols were tattooed in a circle around his heart, visible due to his torn clothing.
"By all six Command Seals, Emma Frost," Mikael choked on her name.
His clawed hand impaled his thigh as he fought to get the following words past his lips.
"Go as deep into my mind as possible and wake me up!"
Then he collapsed, flesh bubbling in a grotesque transformation.
Emma couldn't watch the horrific process as, compelled by his Command, she entered his now open mind.
For one moment, one instant of pure Insight, she felt both IT's and His mind and realized they were of the exact same alien nature.
Then the field of flowers was gone, and Emma was basking in overwhelming Love.
She couldn't remember the first time she connected to Him.
Mikael had removed that short-term memory from her.
She knew from his memories that she had been hysterical at the time. Emma had dived right back when she discovered her mind had been tampered with.
It was the defining moment of her life.
The Emma of before was a narcissist dedicated to seeing mutant success and her own vain power.
The one reborn in Mikael's soul, in his Love, was a different person entirely.
Why should she care about the approval of the masses?
Why would she need power anymore?
She never needed to engage in petty political squabbles or desperate plans again. Mutants could go extinct, and Emma would not care.
Mikael loved her.
If the X-men, Avengers, Fantastic Four, Hellfire Club, the Kree, Skrull, Asgard, and the Pheonix itself all came together to try and hurt her in any way, they would have to face her God.
And Emma would bet on His overwhelming power every. Single. Time.
When Emma had thought of telling the women of the Island she had gone mad, Mikael thought it was a convenient lie.
It wasn't.
Bathing in Mikael's Love had been a religious experience.
Emma had been baptized.
Reborn as one of the Chosen.
And now she was back in that all-encompassing embrace.
The White Queen was grateful for Mikael's use of all six command seals.
Without their power urging her ever onward, she would have stayed, basking in the feeling of being where she belonged. Emma would have bathed in that Love for eternity if she could.
She would have failed her God.
Unforgivable!
So, urged deeper and deeper into Mikael's mind, Emma could luxuriate in the feelings surrounding her even as she fulfilled her Sacred Mission.
Eventually, Emma could go no deeper.
She was there, at the core of Mikael's mind. The Heart of the Dragon.
A solid core that rang to her senses of Love/Freedom/Rebellion/Madness/Acceptance/Life.
Perhaps she was love-drunk, but Emma imagined Princess Charming saving the Sleeping Dragon with true love's kiss.
Rather than a kiss, it was a blast of psychic energy.
Powered by six command seals, backed a summoner with Inexaustable power, even the Pheonix would have flinched at the power Emma released.
It was enough.
The Dream ended.
Emma would not see the great eye, the size of London, open.
She would be too busy watching diamond wings bursting from her back.
********
In history, the small but important details are often overlooked for the flashy events.
People wanted to talk about larger-than-life figures and impressive wars. They did not want to record the minor trade disputes that led to those wars.
Similarly, people would rather talk about fights between Supers rather than discuss the socioeconomic problems that led to the rise of villains.
The widening economic disparity and lack of accountability led to someone becoming a villain? Who cares! Did you see Superman fight Bizzaro? It was awesome.
It was no surprise that certain things would be lost in the annals of history due to the coming events.
The world changed when the Dragon arrived.
Historians would point to its landing as the turning point in the world's history.
World wars? The advent of Supers? Rise of Mutants? The collapse of nations? Things would have progressed similarly if they never happened and the Dragon still landed.
Those events were all overshadowed.
In academic circles, in the centuries and millennia to come, scholars would debate whether people living at the time had recognized the change.
Some would correctly argue that the population of the early twenty-first century was used to strange and bizarre events.
Alien invasion? It must be Tuesday.
Is the sun blotted out? The Justice League, Avengers, Protectorate, or any number of other hero groups would stop whoever was behind it.
They were jaded.
Most people just went about their daily lives, staying away from the Super scene when they could or following their exploits like a tv show. It was amazing what the human mind can get used to.
Other scholars would point out, also correctly, that the Dragon's Descent was not like other events.
While its full ramifications wouldn't be apparent for months or even years, the immediate effects would be noticeable.
Very few other events lasted so long. Most problems were solved rather quickly by the hero community of the time. No other villain plot led to the creation of a new subcontinent, nor did they spark a shadow war for its resources.
The most definitive evidence the 'immediate changed world' faction would point to would be the sky.
The people of earth would have noticed the change in the sky immediately. Nobody would fail to see the Dark Moon that took up a tenth of the sky. It and the golden rings it contained were symbols of the new world.
While both sides of the debate were right and wrong, they, unfortunately, missed some critical information that was never recorded in the history books.
They were unaware that, a week before the Dragon Descended, a small section of not only the earth but the universe felt reality change.
When the Dragon awoke, freed from its stasis for the first time in millions of years, it sent ripples throughout the universe.
Some on earth could feel it.
********
Within the Sanctum Sanctorum, the Sorcerer Supreme jumped to his feet as he felt the dimensional walls of reality buckle under the weight of a foreign intruder.
********
Dr. Fate looked skyward, beyond the milky-way, to watch the Lord of Chaos begin his journey. Nabu frowned, not understanding what he was seeing. Was that... Order?
********
In a mansion dedicated to human-mutant cooperation in Salem, New York, the strongest psychic on the planet, connected to the greatest psionic amplification device, felt a brief tingling in the back of his head. Like someone was talking but too far away to hear. The 'voice' was familiar as well.
Charles Xavier would dismiss the feeling as a psychic bleed-over from the nearby Emma Frost.
********
The earth would not be the only place where the repercussions were felt.
********
The Pheonix would feel the Dragon waking up in its journey through the cosmos.
Its resulting cry of joy would have been beautiful had it not drowned out the burning of nearby planets.
*********
The Guardians of Oa would stare at their Lantern in horror as the Emotional Spectrum buckled and shifted.
Will was not weakened, nor were the other emotions, but something had irrevocably changed.
********
Upon his throne of skulls, Trigon the Terrible felt his connection to his Daughter strengthen.
The archfiend grinned a terrible gin.
Soon.
********
Throughout the universe, anyone who possessed Godhood felt the change. All prophets and readers of Fate felt their prophecies shatter, the future irreparably lost to their eyes.
Any who used mathematical models to predict the future were blessed and cursed.
Blessed as their abilities still worked, at least for a little while.
Cursed, as they did not realize the shift in reality.
********
While outside forces eyed the dimension hungrily.
While inside, forces desperately tried to comprehend how things had changed.
While all this turmoil was rising.
In a small deli, a woman sat and enjoyed her coffee while watching the rain fall.
She smiled a small, private smile as she watched the Dragon gather speed for its journey toward her.
At her request.
"Finally."
Mikael was free.
And she would be too.