Wayne stared up at the muted mashing mandibles handing over his head like the executioner's axe. Homer stumbled to his feet, eyes wide after his narrowly avoided death.

In the canopy of tangled branches, the false basilisk loomed. Wayne’s throat dried as the terrible beast twisted and secured its long and segmented body in the trees above them. Every movement made the entire jungle shake.

The arthropod seemed to realize it had cornered them, as it exposed a chitin frill around its neck in what appeared to be an intimidation tactic. Or in this case, a victory dance. Its body ended in the stinger that had decimated their hopes of safety, a grizzly instrument of death larger than Wayne’s body coming down to a wicked point.

Suddenly sound came crashing back into Wayne’s world, and he was briefly overwhelmed. Animals that had previously been unseen fled before the arthropod’s rampage, the ancient stonework in front of them creaked as it protested the damage it had been dealt, all while the clattering of the insectoid mouth never ceased.

Wayne stared as the terrible tail swayed while the rest of the beast sat above them. He felt like a mouse caught by a cat, the predator so far beyond him that a comparison felt ridiculous.

What can I do except die?

Looking his end in the eye, Wayne saw something. Not his short and dull life flashing before his eyes. No, something much more important than that.

He saw a new source of manalight trailing through the air. It wasn’t a guarantee, but in his panic Wayne grasped onto the first hope of escape he could find. With barely enough mental wherewithal to pull Homer into running with him, Wayne took off towards the light his Dragon’s Eye showed him.

Towards the hole the stinger had pierced into the soil, deeper than he could see and wider than five men across. Above them, the stupid bug chittered like it was amused at their desperate attempts at survival.

Still, it seemed to lose interest when they actually were about to succeed, and when it finally acted Wayne was powerless against the casual thrust of the stinger it launched at him like a fencer. Its point was invisible to him, disappearing into nothingness as it raced for the space between his eyes.

Wayne accepted his death, but Homer didn’t. The other boy tackled him the remaining distance, and the two of them began free falling in the pit. Wayne closed his eyes, bracing for impact.

Wayne wasn’t sure what he had expected from the hole exposed by the stinger, but a multi-second fall was not quite on the list. As the moment passed and air kept rushing by his face, Wayne dared to open his eyes.

Wayne tried to ignore the stinging wind in his eyes and found no difference. All around him was darkness.

“Hooommeerrr!” He tried to call out for the boy who had just saved him.

“Heeeeeeeeelp!” Was the desperate reply rushing air.

“Wheeeeerrrreeeee?! Wheeeerrreeee!” Wayne shouted as best he could, trying to maneuver through the air to get some bearing or direction.

“Heeerree-” The other boy’s voice cut out at the end.

“Hoomerrr! Hoooomerrrr! Nooooooo!” Wayne called out into the relentless wind.

There was no reply and as Wayne kept falling ever further, he realized there was nothing he could do for the other boy now. All Wayne could do was try his best to live and help Homer at some point, if the other boy managed to survive as well.

As the seconds passed and the bottom was still further down beyond Wayne’s enhanced sight, that outcome looked increasingly less and less likely. The endless abyss stretched out before him, and Wayne was powerless before it.

So he accepted his fate once again. It seemed like if Wayne was ready to die today, he may just find another way to live.

Eventually, Wayne started to find the sensation of falling fun. With his arms outstretched to the sides he let a laugh out, despite the situation. Once he did, he found he couldn’t stop, the laughter disappearing before it even reached his ears and giving him a space to let loose.

Wayne laughed, and laughed, and until he started coughing because he choked a bit on his own spittle. For the first time, Wayne let himself just laugh at what he had gotten himself caught into and the absurdity of his life.

Because he had to laugh, or else he would cry, and he would hate to find the bottom of the pit while he was crying. No, that wasn’t how Wayne wanted to die at all.

So he laughed, and if the tears still flowed from his eyes, those were tears of joy. Wayne had given it his best shot. The fact he had survived this far proved at least that much. So he laughed and smiled, because Wayne was proud of himself for the effort. He had been so far behind, but still learned so much in just a few days.

For a few moments he thought of what his father might think when he heard, but he didn’t know the man well enough to do more than imagine his face. A face like Wayne’s own.

Who would I be in ten years? Twenty? A hundred? Wayne thought.

He laughed again as he imagined something so ridiculous. Wayne didn’t know the first thing about being older, and it seemed like he never would at this rate.

Oh well.

Then, a light emerged from the darkness. At first, it was barely a glimmer in the distance, maybe just a figment of Wayne’s imagination reaching for hope. But no, it was real and as Wayne continued to fall towards it, the light grew closer and closer.

The fluorescent light blazed across the entire color spectrum, in shades that Wayne had never seen before in his life. Wayne felt it was vital to figure out what color it was. He couldn’t think of anything else.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

It was everything at once, Wayne realized offhandedly, as he fell haplessly into the light.

* * * * *

There was nothing. Not light, darkness, space, or time. Not even the absence of those things existed. Existence itself was uncreated as of yet, there just was information and energy.

This was the way of things. Until it wasn’t. A great beast emerged from the energy, and wrought himself into being. The first existence, the greatest of Dragons. His eminence let out a cry that disrupted the vis-

The wind gently rolled across the open landscape, long grass lolling under its pull. Occasional trees dotted the green ocean of hills, with small structures built out of them. It was a peaceful scene, serene in its simplicity.

A huge shadow passed overhead. He glanced over his shoulder, but couldn’t make out the shape of what was flying above the clouds beyond that it was enormous.

As he was gazing upwards, the ground began to shake but strangely he wasn’t affected by the motion at all. Then, the earth split and from it came an army of dwarves, clad in heavy metals. Fire started to spread, until the entire scene was engulfed with the flames.

Then the flames reached him, tickling their way up his le-

He stood in the desert, and helped a young boy to his feet. His skin was caked with the sand from the air, and his voice was dry.

“Why did you help me?” The boy struggled to ask.

He raised his hand, and the wind stopped. Silence reigned on the dunes of the desert, where he called forth an oasis, so the boy may drink and bathe.

“I do this because you are worth it. We all are.”

The boy nodded solemnly.

“Then you must forgive what I have done.”

“Wha-”

Wayne jerked awake, eyes wide. He drew raspy, halting breaths, unable to fill his lungs. Something was wrong with Wayne, terribly wrong. He was dying, and it hurt. Especially his right hand, stretched out above his head. He pulled it in front of his face to find a charred mess, the fingers barely functioning with his ring finger being missing entirely.

“A-ahhh-hhh. A-a-Ahhh!” Wayne managed to get out.

“Holy shit, you’re awake.” Homer called out.

“Rest now, take it easy… at least one of us needs to make it out of here.” The other boy said the rest of it in a softer tone that Wayne was already too sedated to hear. Into unconsciousness Wayne slipped, where his mind was vulnerable to outside influences.

An abominable snow storm raged around him. He walked deeper into the ravine, knowing two friends were waiting for him in its recesses. He walked around a corner and met his brother for the first time.

“Who-”

He watched a small girl take off from harbor on a trading vehicle with her family. She was smiling, and laughing while running about. Then he turned to the docks, where a similar girl sat alone, hiding behind a box. She was almost identical to the one departing on the ship, except for her red eyes.

He witnessed a porcelain goddess take the heart from her seven lovers. He saw a group of people with feathered wings put in chains. He lived the moment his mom bled out while hunched over him, again and again.

He saw a sword. Held out across a thin neck. He felt the urge. The pain. The desire. Resentment. Fear. Envy. And he dropped the sword and turned away.

“I knew you would, my love.”

He turned back, and someone new was there. Someone wonderful. Crystalline white hair, violet eyes that knew him intimately and a smile that he loved dearly.

“Do I have to leave?” The words came from his lips unbidden.

“You know that you must. Make yourself whole. We will see each other again soon.”

He buried the crown of his head in her chest as she pulled him into an embrace. Then, the visions faded away, leaving only his Shaping Space. Something was broken, something he needed to fix. A great rend appeared in the side of the Space, its edges glazed with an otherworldly power.

His authority was being whisked out through the hole, lost to the suction of the void but something was replenishing his power at nearly the same rate. Still, if the paradigm was not altered, he would die now. Wayne would die, before becoming him, and that wasn’t acceptable.

If the structure surrounding his being was broken, he would make a new one. Calling on the swollen power of his soul, he Shaped his authority then surrounded it with a Form Space, and aligned the Form with his hand.

This would let him live. This would let her live. Maybe, it would even be enough.

* * * * *

Luminos welcomes your subservience, and graces you with his power.

Congratulations on the Ascension to (Acolyte)!

Statistics:-

+7 Speed

+8 Strength

+13 Spirit

Skills:-

?????

For a moment, Wayne forgot where he was and what had happened. The notification blaring in his face from the Order overwhelmed his scattered attention. Then the pain screamed at him, and Wayne yelled back, minimizing the message without examining it.

` “Ahhhhhhh!”

“Woah! Woah, you’re alright Wayne! You’re alright… you’re alright.” Homer said.

And he was right, the pain had already started to lessen. It didn’t disappear, but faded into the background similarly to how the overwhelming noise of the jungle had become familiar. A harsh ache echoing throughout his whole body.

“Ha… Ha… Ha…” Wayne panted out his steadying breath.

Still, the pain was fresh and tender in one place. He was afraid to look, but Wayne forced himself to gingerly move his arm in sight. As Wayne examined the extent of the damage he had seen earlier, he managed to relax even further.

His skin was pink and chafing, as if he had been scalded by hot water. Small cuts dotted Wayne’s hand, intersecting and crossing without reason. His ring finger was completely gone with even the knuckle missing, but the wound was completely sealed off already, as if the appendage had never been there. He may never use it again.

He was still in pain with aches all over his body, and missing a finger apparently. But he would live. Wayne let out a large laugh, and was quickly joined by Homer.

The two just sat there and enjoyed being alive. The laughter was a biological reaction to all the tension, the stress, the worry of the life threatening situation being lifted from their shoulders. It was cathartic and joyous, and perhaps therapeutic to the two of them.

It was several minutes before they stopped, and only because they needed to breathe. Wayne finally took a moment to examine their surroundings.

They were in a small alcove, light moss growing over the stone beneath them. A pleasant hum filled the air, and Wayne when noticed it he thought that it may have played a part in him being able to laugh so freely.

Something about it made him feel at ease, like something bigger than him was protecting him. Wayne looked about for its source, but he couldn’t find it.

“Behind you.” Homer said from his side.

Twisting, Wayne listened to the boy’s directions. What he saw took his breath away.

A vast, ethereal source that seems to stretch beyond the limits of time and space was only a few feet away, its depths unfathomable and its edges ever-shifting. A hole to the center of the world, the start of reality.

It filled the surrounding environment with a soft, radiant glow, hinting at the energy contained within. There is no end to the well's depths, no bottom or boundary to its capacity. It radiates a hum of raw, untapped power, like a vast reservoir of ideas, knowledge, and potential waiting to be harnessed.

Above it, the air sparkled with possibility, and swirling patterns of light dancing across Wayne’s vision, each pattern unique, representing the infinite paths that could unfold from the well. Sometimes, glimpses of future accomplishments, dreams, and aspirations flicker within its depths, just out of reach, waiting for the right moment to awaken.

“Woah…” Wayne softly intoned.

“Yeah, pretty impressive, right? That’s what did that to your hand, by the way.”

Wayne took another glance at his hand. Suddenly, it seemed like a miracle that he hadn’t been left with only a stump in its place.

“I can’t believe we walked out of that alright somehow.” Wayne said.

The other boy let out a brief dry chuckle.

“Yeah, you could say that…”

Wayne twisted again in the tight confines of the alcove to look at Homer. At first he had taken the boy’s nonchalant attitude and nature for him being alright. And above the waist that was true. But the chances of their escape and Wayne’s hopes crashed when he saw what had happened to one of Homer’s legs.

His right leg was whole, and healthy. Homer’s left, ended in a stump above the knee, tightly wrapped in a torn bolt of fabric to staunch the wound.