To burn was to exist. And it was also enough.

The sensation felt strange settling across her, but not unpleasant. She had become an incarnation of fire in a vast cave. The flickering light of the gorgeous flames licking up and down her body provided bright splashes of color. Every one of her motions manifested as beauty. She swam in the rainbow flame tongues, a being of purpose and emotion. The more she followed the sensation, the larger and more resplendent she became.

The cave seemed to stretch up endlessly above her. The more she grew taller and yawned wide to expand her lovely manifestations, the living embodiment of a vicious wildfire sweeping through the whole area, the more the room seemed to expand to contain her. Not in a restrictive way, but just by being an appropriate size to contain her vast multitudes.

She felt full and whole, for the first time in her life. She felt poised to take the next step. She would finally become the woman she had always been meant to be.

The firescape trembled. The only problem was that, now that she was here, ready to pounce toward any goal…

She… couldn’t quite remember why or how she had gotten here…

Which did make the flames of fury running through her being seeth. Frustration and determination warred in her chest-

Wait, a chest? Did she have a chest? Heat flushed her cheeks, which she also didn’t have. She should just be a giant amalgamation of different emotional flames. And immense destructive power-

Well, anyway, she was mad because she always seemed to stumble on this step. This teetering felt familiar. The flames seethed and reached higher, searching for a clue. Some hints as to what the next step should be. She was aware of the small fist of flames that swam through her flames, an imitation that was foreign, but had long since ceased listening to those flames: those flames were obnoxiously self-important.

The flames curled light a tightening hand. A hand that could reach out and force its fingers into any target, so long as she willed it. So what can I-

And then he was there. A luminous consciousness, touching her shoulder. Calm, cool, familiar, and instantly enough to ease her tense shoulders.

Devick, it’s time. He whispered to her. He looked at her with gratitude. I need this power of yours.

It’s all yours, She responded. The hand of flame relaxed; she offered her prize, glittering on the lovely palm of sculpted flame. She felt a whooshing sense of collapse, as much of her emotional force flowed through their connection and filled him, dimming the flames until the wildfire was no more, and she was just a woman with long red hair.

“Well, not just any woman…” Devick mumbled. “A stunning bombshell by any metric.”

On cue, the small fist of foreign flames drifted closer. Confusion and disappointment radiated out of it. “You give everything to him. Do you not feel unsatisfied, constantly giving so much to other individuals? Giving them control.”

Devick pursed her lips as she glanced at the fist of flames. After calming some of her own emotions, she said. “It’s not like your entirely wrong… I would give him control if he asked for it. But… in the moment, when I interact with Randidly Ghosthound, I feel more clarity than at any other moment in my life. Will my whole being, I say yes to him. He makes it so easy.”

The fist of flames considered that. “...if you give, they will take. Until you are empty.”

Devick nodded her head in acknowledgment, but did not feel regret. After a long moment, she sat down and huffed out a breath. “Shit, suddenly I’m exhausted. Let’s take a nap, shall we?”

*****

While Yggdrasil and the Songstress of Absence both pulled one book each to the side, four remaining books pressed forward, forcing the Dread Homunculus and Randidly’s body against the final threshold of Pine’s corpse. Their moons scythed in long arcs around the books, ready to crack against his skeleton.

His ribs released an ominous crack as the offensive forced him back.

Randidly cackled and ignored the pain. He pulled and pulled, gathering up all the powers he could possess. His Soulspace boiled. The seals placed upon his images by the Pantheon began to loosen as he whipped himself into a fever pitch. Yggdrasil bubbled with power. The Songstress hummed her deadly tune. The Dread Homunculus wavered, up and down, trying to find its perfect note of emotional resonance as the pressure on his body increased.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Time ground past, squeezing at Randidly’s throat and scratching at his eyes. The temporal waves whipped past like the winds of a sandstorm. He coughed lightly and clenched his right hand. The energy flowing from Yggdrasil healed his snapped fingers with several loud pops. When he had an appendage to wield once more, he smashed his fist down, again and again against the temporal barrier.

Each impact sent a jolt of agony through the half-healed arm, but also each contact was like a testing note as he searched for the Pinnacle-event Truth he searched for.

The tomes pressed forward, urged by Laplace. Randidly felt one of his ribs fracture while simultaneously the barrier behind him begrudgingly gave up a few inches. He began to sink deeper into that final barrier.

Which, thankfully, bought him a little extra time to resist the Eternity. He mobilized his two other prepared Truths, first his own ‘every detail matters’ and also the Truth he pulled from Devick’s Deviation, ‘what you can reach, you can touch’.

Randidly bellowed, his fist cracking against the temporal barrier. It wavered but simply pressed forward in the face of the impact. His chest cavity contracted involuntarily. Luckily he had shed all mundane concerns, because otherwise, he would not be able to breathe. If anything, this just made his smile larger, the masochistic gleam in his eyes that much more bright.

“Do you really think you can get through me, Laplace?” Randidly hissed out the words, feeling the pressure mounting on both sides. The barrier behind him repelled him almost as strongly as the tomes shoved him back. Although Pine’s final threshold had some give at the start, the more deeply he was pressed into it, the more it firmed up. It rejected him, just like it rejected all others.

And when those two forces were equal… well, Randidly supposed he would find out how well-tempered his Vessel actually was.

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. This was not a matter of whether he had to give up something to pass through— what this barrier demanded as price of entry was everything. So they would rip their way through, or not at all.

As the Truths came into full blossom within Randidly’s Soulspace, the entirety of his person felt electrified and potent. His body twitched at the rushing Truth’s animating him, although most of those small manifestations were suppressed by the current squeezing he experienced. Already, Randidly could feel the energies beginning to temper his Vessel.

Abruptly, he remembered the sad smile on Nyx’s face during their brief conversation. You can’t have it both ways. Reaching the Pinnacle presents a choice.

What will you choose?

Pantheon Intervention. Recalculating…

Congratulations! You have reached the requisite qualifications to condense a Grand Fate! Please select a Great Path from the options below and follow it as long as it will lead you forward:

[Grand Fate: Myth of the Alpha Cosmos], [Grand Fate: Randidly Ghosthound the Moirae Chimera], [Grand Fate: Temporal Wanderer and Cultivator of Miracles], [Grand Fate:&@*!)#N#???! (Warning, this is a partial Grand Fate)]

A light brush of will selected the final, contorted option in the notification. A Path with three images blended to become a third Truth. The Dread Homunculus laughed again, pounding his fist against the temporal barrier with such force that his palm fractured. Simultaneously, a change occurred in Randidly’s Soulspace, as he began to lay the groundwork for his final miracle.

His Nether Core spun, churning out his potent translucent Nether. He created a space with two sections, separated by a powerful asymptote barrier in between them. The areas became a reflection of the other, with thin veins of significance creating interplay between them. Above, a delicate cage of manifested Engraving, lines of written Aether to strengthen and fuel. Below, Randidly swirled together a dense whirlpool of his deepest significance, a sort of foundation that would amplify and ground what would be created within.

A frame of Aether to house and feature an Eternity. A pool of pure Nether to stabilize and nurture a Truth. Those two energies working in concert, feeding through the asymptote to influence one another, to condense a Grand Fate and a Penance.

The pressure against him grew increasingly intense. Lesser beings would have directly popped. But in that inner sanctum of his soul, his Aether and Nether were unperturbed. He polished and carved with rapid strokes, shaping the inner sanctum of his miracle. The cage became gleaming and luminous. The pool was so deep as to be unfathomable.

As Randidly raised his arm for another strike, those small orbiting moons around the tomes shifted. They spread out to the exterior of the temporal vortex, rotating around the whole, rather than the individual sources.

But most dangerously, they began to whip around with malicious intent. So while Randidly tried for another strike, one moon swept past and crunched into the elbow joint of his right arm. He hissed in pain, noticing a second luminous moon curving around to shatter his jaw. He jerked his head back just in time-

He pressed just slightly deeper into Pine’s final barrier, before rebounding; with so much of his muscular power resisting the temporal forces, he didn’t have much to spare for this other opponent. So instead of clipping his chin, the moon smashed directly into Randidly’s cheekbone. The eye on that side of his face ruptured.

The Songstress of Absence let out another furious screech as Randidly’s effort to channel all these Truths wavered upon impact. Randidly blinked and then spat out a bloody and shattered tooth to the side. Warm life energy flooded up through his next and rapidly began to heal the wound. But even that small distraction meant he could only endure as the growing vortex pressed a little bit more forward.

He lost a little space, just like that, with his sanctum barely in a passable state.

The Dread Homunculus hadn’t lost its edge though. It examined the advancing force carefully, smirk still in place. Well, if this fucker wants to ignore reality, I can do the same. With all this distorted time, I bet messed up thought experiments are extra effective. You know, you need to cross half a distance before you can cross the whole.

If you, Laplace, are limited by halfs-

I have almost an infinite amount of time to nail this emotional affect and polish the sanctum.