One by one, the champions charged into the improbable passage, and the eerie mouth slammed shut behind the last of the group. Scott found himself separated from his companions, both physically and mentally, adrift in an unfathomable space devoid of all sensory stimuli. The eldritch knight slowly turned his head from side to side, but nothing emerged from the endless darkness.
This isn’t what I saw earlier. There was supposed to be a gateway to that city. How did I end up here? Scott pondered silently; his gaze fixed on the darkness. He attempted to contact Slim and Zara once more, but only silence answered his calls.
This doesn’t seem like an illusion. How do I leave this place? he wondered as he moved his right leg forward. At that moment, a creaking echo filled the void, and a subtle, intangible wave slowly altered the area thirty feet away from where the eldritch knight floated.
As Scott took another step forward, the creaking echo grew louder, a crack forming several feet away from his position. Formless wisps of multicolored auroras seeped out from the crack, coalescing into an amorphous entity.
Scott halted his advance, his narrowed eyes focused on the strange oddity. Preemptively, he reached toward his mask, but there was no response. Frowning, he extended his hand toward the docile mask, only to find his fingers falling on his face, unimpeded.
What the…? Scott's visage twisted in surprise as his fingers roamed around his slightly dry skin, coming to rest on his lower lip. Subconsciously, he took a step back, his citrine eyes trained on the formless entity, which had gradually taken a human silhouette, one all too familiar to him.
Another crack reverberated through the space, catching Scott's attention as he noticed a lattice of fractures spiderwebbing across the entity's body. Stepping forward cautiously, he returned to his previous position, and the cracks vanished as if they had never existed. Intrigued, he took another step closer, and the ambient lights surrounding the entity dimmed, its form becoming more tangible.
Advancing six steps at a go, a low hum filled the space, accompanying the entity's swaying motion, as if shedding its ethereal form. Scott continued his determined stride, but it wasn't until a mere ten feet remained between him and the enigmatic being that something significant occurred. The final tethers of the ethereal being shattered in an explosive fury, revealing a figure bearing a striking resemblance to Scott, albeit slightly older and more imposing.
Both men locked eyes, the silence between them devoured by the void. They scrutinized each other, their gazes lingering on the attire of their counterparts. Unlike Scott, whose expression conveyed curiosity mingled with confusion, the figure in blood-red robes wore an eerie grin, his eyes glinting with a dangerous hunger.
“Who are you?” Scott's question hung in the air, but to his frustration, the void swallowed his voice.
Who the hell is this bastard and why does he look like an older version of me? Scott thought to himself, frustrated, he couldn’t voice out his thoughts.
His older doppelganger sneered, shaking his head with a familiarity that echoed through the corridors of time, his voice a whisper tainted by the ages. “What do you mean, 'who the hell is this bastard'? Isn't it obvious that I'm you?” he said, the same eerie grin etched across his face.
Scott frowned at the doppelganger. He hadn't realized the voice had pierced his mind, and the doppelganger's somewhat indifferent demeanor seemed to stoke his ire.
“Your anger won't change a thing,” the doppelganger chuckled, tilting his head back. “Unlike you, I'm no longer bound to this world. Isn't that a shame?”
Raising his right hand, the doppelganger extended his index finger toward Scott's forehead, rendering the eldritch knight immobile.
“It's a miracle you're even alive. After all, we're not meant to survive. How did you manage it?” The doppelganger's gaze bore into Scott's, his head cocked to the side.
“What do you mean?” Scott asked with a thought, but the doppelganger merely shifted his gaze to the other side.
“You're likely the last of us,” the doppelganger giggled softly. “It's unfair that you alone get to live. It should have been me,” he hissed, envy oozing from his every pore.
At that moment, the doppelganger's finger made contact with Scott's forehead. Like a key turning in a lock, a deluge of memories flooded Scott's mind, causing his eyes to roll back. Bizarre names, faces, locations, and artifacts swirled within the champion's consciousness as the doppelganger chuckled darkly.
Scott trembled, uttering incomprehensible sounds for a moment, until the doppelganger withdrew his finger. Scott's vacant gaze returned to normal, though it bore the weight of ages.
“Life is fleeting. Death is but a beginning. Blood binds us, and our desires are transient...” the doppelganger murmured, his gaze fixed on Scott.
“...but only the Blood Cult is eternal,” the two men declared in unison.
A shiver ran down Scott's spine as a surge of new information flooded his mind. He winced, his body instinctively curling inward as the world around him blurred. Straightening up abruptly, he fixed his gaze on the doppelganger; a glare filled with a mix of rage and guilt.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“You despicable bastard. How could you?” Scott's voice rumbled with anger as he regained his composure. “Why did you kill them?”
“Come on, don't pretend you're oblivious,” the doppelganger interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips as he adjusted his hair. “You've delved into all my memories. There's no need to act like some righteous saint. You damn well know why I did it,” he taunted with a grin.
Scott prepared to retort, but his doppelganger stepped forward, circling him like a predator assessing its prey. “Let's be honest here, is it really a shock that I would resort to that?” he questioned, locking eyes with the eldritch knight. “Why was there such a glaring gap in our abilities and skills? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't measure up to any of them. Do you know what it's like to feel utterly worthless?” He chuckled bitterly. “That’s such a useless question. Of course you do. You're me, after all.”
He pivoted, retracing his steps to his previous position. “You may attempt to deceive others, but no one—dead or alive—understands you as intimately as I do. That's why I know you understand it wasn't my doing,” he remarked, turning around with a sinister grin as his eyes flickered with an ominous emerald glow. “They labeled our envy an abnormality, a flaw, if you will. How mistaken they were.”
Raising his right hand, ethereal wisps coalesced into a flaming mist, containing mangled, soul-like forms burning within. “It matters not from which reality or universe we originate; our destiny remains unaltered. Do you grasp how extraordinary it is for us to be chosen as the sole Eidolon of Envy?” The doppelganger clenched his fists, causing the souls within the flames to silently scream before the flames dissipated. “Why should we not utilize our innate abilities to achieve our desires?” he inquired, stepping closer to Scott. “Is it truly wrong to sacrifice a few friends to gain power? Is that not what friendship entails?” Tilting his head, he halted a mere foot away from Scott. “Is it truly wrong to sacrifice one's own child? Why subject a child to this agonizing world, especially when they can serve a higher purpose?”
He reached for Scott's head, placing both hands at the back of the eldritch knight's neck, coercing their heads to collide. “Why the silence? I know you don't despise me; after all, you are me. You're the only one who comprehends—”
“What did you mean by ‘you're likely the last of us?’” Scott interjected, gently swatting away the doppelganger's hands, his demeanor remaining impassive. “How can multiple versions of us exist simultaneously? Surely, the gods wouldn't allow such a thing, correct?”
The doppelganger erupted into laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks. It took him ten minutes to regain his composure before meeting Scott's inquisitive gaze.
“I once shared your ignorance,” he confessed. “Unaware that those I deemed friends harbored resentment toward every fiber of my being. I was fortunate they hadn't awakened those memories; otherwise, I might not have progressed as far as I had.”
He drew in a deep breath before snapping his fingers, yet as always, not a single sound reverberated in the void. Nonetheless, dozens of mirrors materialized around Scott and his doppelganger, each one projecting a different version of Scott wandering through various floors.
“I don’t have insight into the original timeline, assuming one even exists. What I do know is that this 'situation' has repeated itself countless times. To properly address your question, the gods are aware that Omar and those other wretches have shifted their consciousness to alternate realities multiple times. However, they refrain from intervening because the situation hasn’t yet reached the point of no return,” the doppelganger elucidated.
Shock veiled Scott’s eyes as he parted his lips to speak. “Why would they allow such a thing, and what precisely do you mean by the point of no return?” he queried in a single breath. Although he had involuntarily absorbed the memories of the doppelganger, there were conspicuous gaps within them, almost as if someone or something had deliberately purged them.
“Make no mistake, the tower, the champions, and all life within it exist solely for the amusement of the gods. Those vile creatures, transferring their consciousness to other realities, only serve to enhance the 'spectacle' for them.” The doppelganger halted abruptly, lifting his head toward the vast expanse of nothingness. After a moment, he resumed, his voice lowered. “Once a champion crosses the point of no return, every iteration of them in other realities is erased from existence. All memories from each version that has ever existed coalesce into that one triumphant variant, or so I've heard. Past errors become irreversible, and one can only press forward—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Scott interjected, his expression contorted. “You mentioned earlier that I was the last one, correct? Does that imply I've also passed the point of no return?”
A wicked smile flashed across the lips of the doppelganger as he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, a blackened hand forced its way out of Scott’s mouth, coiling around the doppelganger’s neck with a vice-like grip.
“What have you done? What have you done?” The doppelganger managed to squeeze out his words, his struggles futile against the overpowering grip.
“Who do you serve?” The doppelganger asked, the grip tightening as he fought desperately to break free. Amid his struggles, his eyes flickered, his gaze fixating on a figure in bright yellow approaching from the distance.
“Get away from me! What have you done?” The doppelganger’s voice rose in a frenzy of desperation.
Meanwhile, Scott trembled violently as an unseen force tore through his insides. He watched in horror as the doppelganger hovered slightly higher, his expression turning pale.
“You’re not one of us,” the doppelganger's voice strained, his face draining of color. “No wonder I couldn’t sense the seed of envy within you. You have been corrupted!”
Tears streaked down the face of the doppelganger as he bitterly stared at Scott. “All that hard work gone! This is too unfair!”
Another hand emerged from Scott's mouth, thrusting itself into the doppelganger's gaping mouth. Simultaneously, a soul-churning scream reverberated in Scott’s mind as the doppelganger's body contorted in agony, writhing like a boneless puppet.
Soon, the screams gave way to maniacal laughter, followed by an eerie silence. But it was short-lived. A familiar voice echoed in the eldritch knight's mind: “Only madness is eternal.”
The hands manipulating the doppelganger's insides withdrew slowly, revealing a magnificent war hammer shrouded in an ethereal mist. The grip around the doppelganger's neck and the one clutching the war hammer vanished into the void in a flash. The mirrors surrounding Scott multiplied exponentially, each reflecting a different version of him from alternate timelines.
They all fixed their gaze on Scott, their eyes carrying an unsettling emptiness; one by one, each mirror shattered until only one remained. Scott peered into the last mirror, which reflected his frail former self. The projection sported a faint smile, and like its predecessors, the mirror fractured into countless shards. In the void, Scott stood still, his attention drawn to a towering figure cloaked in yellow seemingly devouring the darkness.
“Only madness is eternal,” Scott murmured, his voice resonating through the expanse. The yellow sign flickered in his pupils, and simultaneously, a rift tore through the air, and a hand pulled the body of the eldritch knight from the darkness.