True to form, they didn’t really wait for me, because they didn’t have to. I’d catch up.
All eight of the Brothers here went in, staying tight, with Briggs backing them. They were only thirty seconds in front of me, but that was fine, because they had a lot of shit to fight through, and I only had to avoid stuff on the way.
They hurtled into the Rift, slaying as they went.
There were very few things that could survive two strikes from a Void Brother, and certainly not from Briggs on top, except for a Greater Demon... who would generally take three to five, and one from Briggs, and not survive, so there...
Hampered by having to slaughter everything, they didn’t make a huge amount of progress before I got there, but that was fine.
Reinforcements were still coming, but they were dazed by the feedback from their failure, the wave of despair washing through them at the defeat of those before them, and the deaths of so many of their mighty. The demons were actually destabilizing in the backwash of power, barely able to move, and so could barely put up a fight as the Brothers chewed into them.
That was good, because we had a long ways to go.
The line they ate through the rainbow horde burned a pure and vicious vivic flame that sent them reeling back, rather than crowding in behind them. The energies of the Rift here were being torn open by Helices, wedged and burned into place by a Source Interdiction, and here I was coming up behind, leading my absolutely unforgiving Null to lock it in place.
We had about a minute before what was coming came, so the objective was to hew a path powered by the energies of their own dead forwards as far as we could, like sticking the barrel of a gun down the throat of those who we were firing it at.
I came sweeping in behind them, took the center spot behind Briggs and the Brothers without missing a step, they parted to give me things to target and kill ahead of me, and the slaughter was on.
Given their head start, the power of a Cleave Train, and the Sidestep AoO’s coming off it, we were moving at about two hundred feet every six seconds, two thousand feet a minute, with them having a minute head start.
So, pretty good. We made about four thousand feet into this howling dimensional tunnel woven of putrid alien energies, carving a path of unwhite fire that was eating at the very structure of the thing as we advanced on the source of where it came from beyond our space/time continuum, surrounded by hordes of creatures sworn to uncaring gods and wanting only to kill us all, yet too surprised by the fact we were here and how fast we were moving to really do anything about us.
There were spells flying everywhere, but they only added to the friendly fire going on all around as the hordes broke up in failure, and turned on one another, barely paying attention to us. That was good, more lives for the Land...
Counting down, looking through the many eyes behind us as the power built. The jRaztl champions were falling with appalling speed, the Ironblood were advancing off and down the walls, confident of being able to handle any survivors, especially given what was coming. The Kings, their Guards, and the Dragons fighting down there weren’t having any troubles, and the Warp dragons and drakes were all dead or dying by now, heads getting chopped off for later use, and the air was beginning to hum.
The roiling clouds above had pulled back, boiled away by the vivic energy gathering from the three Obelisks. The blue sky gradually faded away, revealing Aru wheeling up there in the starry sky, the King of Suns reigning over the starry Heavens we never saw during the day.
Around Him, it wasn’t just stars shining. The dark there was shining, too... and all of it was starting to come down.
Hazé pointed. Wayfair pointed. The Shamans lifted their claws, talons, and arms, and pointed. The distant angelic haror pointed. Everyone who was not fighting and could lift their arms and weapons, turned and pointed.
The completely shattered jRaztl forces turned and followed those pointing arms and weapons, and the day-turned-night turned unwhite.
Stars fell from the sky, bringing night with them. They came down into the triangle formed by the three Obelisks, formed a new pool of stars and night, and that pool became a starfall stream, a river of existence, that flared with power as it flowed into the rift.
Everything Warped within a hundred yards of its path instantly vivified. The surviving Warped forces screamed and reeled back from it. Absolute reality is a real bitch for Warped to look on, I reckoned...
When it breached the lip of the Rift, the whole entry point ignited, and all the forces trying to spill out of it fried instantly. Following the trail blazed for it, it lunged into the throat of the Rift, even as the Rift buckled around the intruding reality stream, and began to fray.
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It was coming.
The Brothers all glanced my way, but my plans hadn’t changed. The fear swept through those around us faster than Reality was coming, and our way eased, but it wouldn’t save them. Annihilation was coming, Reality was coming to feast, and we were the plow clearing the road.
Our pace could only pick up, especially as the numbers of reinforcements abruptly dwindled, and it was now an all-out sprint.
Naturally we didn’t know how long this Rift was, marching armies down it. But as the Reality River came flooding in behind us, wiping away everything that did not belong, we passed the mile marker, and were moving as fast as we could.
It couldn’t catch us, because we were its vanguard, so to speak. It rolled up behind us and the hole we were making in the alien reality, pressing at the walls of the Rift, devouring them, making them its own as it extended back, back, back along the break the Rift had forced open, turning it back upon its makers, or opportunists, whoever they might be.
We plowed ahead as fast as possible, even sucking down some Potions to up our speed. We had to make it to the other side of the Rift before the Warp Gods realized what was really happening, and closed it.
They could only think, based on previous actions, that we were trying to disrupt and close the Rift, stopping this incursion. We were definitely doing that, and so they shouldn’t realize that we were also going a step beyond that now. All their servants should be lost, and the multiple Interdictions, especially Briggs’ Source Interdiction, would have completely fucked up their awareness of their servants, so they shouldn’t Know what was coming.
They would instantly figure it out if they saw it, but it should be way too late by then, and they were still having to deal with the failure of their enterprise anyways. The simple fact it had failed would already nullify any pact or agreement between them, they’d fall out blaming one another for their uselessness, and not be paying the kind of attention they should be to what was happening.
If it had been only one of them, that wouldn’t happen, and this probably wouldn’t work. The fact all four of the bastards had been working together was to our benefit at this moment.
Two virtua miles passed, infinities under our feet. Three miles. The Rift energies under our feet were growing thicker, more cloying, even as Reality behind us tore them apart and consumed them. We started being able to see faces howling in the misty liquid it was comprised of, shapes and forms of creatures real and imagined, and others we prayed did not exist... all of them welcoming the oblivion coming for them as we swept by.
There it was. A light ahead of us, a barrier between realms, the final wall of the rules of reality conflicting and grating against one another.
It was my time. I unslung my Belt, and passed Stand and Quaver, hanging and sheathed on it, to Briggs. I unclipped my Bracers, swept off my Vest, and the holster Fall and Down was in with it, and handed them over, too.
He gave me a look and a sigh. He would do this if he could, but he couldn’t. His Source eroded, it didn’t hold firm. He wouldn’t be able to eat away an entire reality coming down on him, but I could hold the way open for one.
We came up to the entry to the Warp, and the Brothers tore it open together in a wild yet perfectly harmonized swirl of raw Helix muscle. Briggs welded it open, I held it tight, and the flood of Reality came barreling through past us, over us, and into the seething mindlight beyond.
The backblast as the two Realities hit sent all of them flying backwards... which is exactly what they wanted to happen, anyways. Multiple Brothers grabbed onto Briggs as they latched onto the flow of Reality, and began to Fall Back to where they belonged. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he receded from sight, and his voice murmured quietly in my head.
I smiled and turned back. It was time to Make Them Pay.
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A few days earlier...
“We’re not real, Briggs,” I told him with a sigh, and he frowned. As usual, he didn’t dismiss my words or overthink them. He took them, turned them around, and considered what I meant.
“Not following, but go on,” he nodded, interested in this, especially considering how serious I was.
“We’re not Briggs and Sama Rantha,” I clarified, and his face fell.
“Okay, sounds serious. How so?”
“I’ve been taking all these Racial Levels, particularly the ones with mental advances. All of my mental Stats are post-40, Fuzzy. Guess what?” He tilted his head slightly. “My recollections of my ‘previous life’,” I air-quoted it, “aren’t any clearer than when I was a One.”
He inhaled, and again thought about it. “That doesn’t sound even remotely possible. Just a Charisma score that high means an overpowering sense of self. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could recall multiple previous lives.”
“So, you noticed you aren’t any better.”
He grunted. “I didn’t dwell on it, but you’re right. It’s all shadowy. I can recall general knowledge, but it’s more like someone told me about my previous life, not that I lived it. I recall being Briggs, and I know it was a game, but the names and faces and places outside of Power of Ten, they are just abstracts. I can’t even name my hometown.”
“Same here. So, there’s a difference between us, and Errant and Hazé.”
He tilted his head. “Their memories of their previous lives are quite explicit. They definitely remember dying. They can remember their families and loved ones back there clearly. So, they died, and came here. Obviously, we aren’t the same. I don’t really remember dying...”
“Nor, really, do I. I think we’re copies. And because we were Forsaken, we could be copied. We’re duplicates of the copies of the imprints from the game on the real people who played Sama and Briggs, and we were copied onto our souls and placed here.”
He drummed his fingers as he looked at me, thinking that over, and slowly, he nodded. “Okay. If we were Powered, there would be instability, dissolution, chaos in the mix... and likely, the action would be easy to track by outside powers. But Forsaken... we could be snuck through subtly, since we don’t wield outside powers.”
“And both of them started with Karmic Debt. We started with knowledge, but not debt, right? I think you had a small Karmic bonus, as did I... we started able to get to Three easily, which put us way up on the survivor curve.”
“That certainly explains a few things,” he admitted. “What’s the play? Why do that?”