Scott found himself in a magnificent room adorned with golden furniture and luxurious items. Massive chandeliers hung from the artistically styled ceiling, casting a warm light that illuminated the spacious room.
“They separated us, huh,” Scott muttered, his gaze lingering on several paintings of faceless judges with halos hanging on the walls. He approached a nearby padded chair and took a seat.
“Can you guys hear me?” Zara’s voice suddenly echoed on the party channel.
“My leader, I can,” Slim responded first. “Are you in a luxurious room too?” the skeleton asked.
“Yes,” the champions answered simultaneously.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Ember suddenly declared. “The fact that they’re treating us like this means we’re considered valuable guests—”
“The only problem is why,” Orion interjected with a chuckle. “I know they said it’s because we’re challengers, but still… there has to be more.”
“Like you said earlier, there’s no use racking our brains over what we don’t know. They’ll reveal their intentions soon enough,” Scott declared.
“You’re right about that,” Orion giggled. “I guess there’s nothing left to do other than enjoy the moment.” The mage’s laughter echoed on the channel, and at that moment, the members of the hound extermination crew—though separated—each wore a smile in their individual rooms.
“Don’t relax too much. There’s no telling what could happen,” Scott warned after a momentary silence. His gaze shifted toward the only exit in the room, a gold-plated door with intricate runic designs etched on its surface.
“Talk to you guys later. I can’t remember the last time I had a warm, proper bath,” Zara said, a hint of excitement in her voice as she left the party channel.
“My leader, it’s as if you read my mind,” Slim chuckled, and he too left the channel.
Ember and Plume quickly followed, leaving Orion and Scott alone on the channel.
“Where is he now?” Scott suddenly asked.
“As soon as we’re done with the Ranking Games, we should meet him,” Orion replied. “He’s quite excited about our reunion.”
“So, what will happen to you exactly? Do you just disappear, or do you merge with your main body again?” Scott asked, his fingers drumming on the armrest. He had thought long and hard about how Orion and his sentient clones functioned, but he couldn’t come to any plausible conclusion. Although they shared one mind, each clone was independent of Orion’s main body, yet still connected to the original.
“I’ll probably journey off to complete another mission,” Orion declared. “Our interests are countless, and they increase each day. There are still so many places we need to explore,” the clone explained.
Scott’s brows furrowed as he posed another question. “What happens if your main body dies?”
Orion chuckled softly, then suddenly burst into maniacal laughter. “Come on, don’t you think that’s happened already?” the mage began, his laughter tapering off. “This body of flesh and bones is nothing but a vehicle—a high-quality one—meant to house our mind, which is the essence of our being. Should a vehicle become useless, you simply replace it. But mind you, the replacement must be deemed suitable. After all, a championship-winning driver needs a championship-worthy car to achieve the best results.”
“What a long-winded way to answer a question,” Scott retorted, and Orion erupted into laughter once more. Although the mage had taken a roundabout way to explain, Scott understood what he meant, and it stunned him.
“What about the connection with your variant?” Scott asked, changing the topic.
“Unfortunately, crossing timelines has strained the connection. The main body and the variant are trying to bypass the restrictions, though,” Orion replied.
“Can they do it?” Scott asked, already anticipating the mage’s response.
“It’s an arduous task, but not impossible,” Orion giggled. “As long as there’s a way, I’ll find it. If there isn’t, I’ll make one,” the mage declared, his voice brimming with primal confidence, bordering on certainty.
I knew he was going to say that, Scott thought, a thin smile parting his lips. There were only a few people he didn’t want to encounter as enemies, and Orion was one of them. The mage not only possessed frightening combat abilities but was also incredibly resourceful and determined, willing to be callously cruel in pursuit of his interests.
“Are you prepared for what awaits you beyond the Ranking Games?” Orion suddenly asked, his voice surprisingly stern. Scott remained silent; his back slumped in his chair while his fingers drummed on the firm armrest. “I know for a fact that you understand our return isn’t coincidental,” the mage continued. “Those who banished us likely did so to prevent or delay the war. Now that we’ve returned, something must have changed.”
“I know,” Scott replied, his voice low. “Those bastards are scheming something, but I have no idea what it is,” he voiced his frustrations, his brows creasing as his fingers stopped drumming on the armrest. “It’s either someone wants to kill me for something I have no clue about, or I’m being used in a grandiose plan I know nothing of—”
“That’s why you—we need power. Power that will make everyone tremble. Power that can make reality itself quake at our existence,” Orion interjected. “We will attain that power. As with all things in life, sacrifices will be made, but I’m certain we’ll reach it.”
“Yeah…” Scott muttered, deep in thought. Silence lingered on the channel for a few minutes before the voidweaver spoke again. “Regarding the Eidolon of Envy, none of the reports make any sense. If you and your variant couldn’t understand their powers, I don’t think it’s possible for me either.”
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“That’s true, but at least you have an inkling of what they—or should I say, your variant—is capable of. Half a loaf is better than none, right?” the mage retorted.
Scott fell silent again, though this time, the interval was significantly shorter. The voidweaver sat upright in his chair, a stern expression gracing his visage. “Who is the Mad God?” he asked. Low giggles greeted Scott’s words, but he remained silent, waiting for Orion’s answer.
“Let’s not pretend you don’t know the answer to that question,” Orion replied, his voice calm and clear. “I know you might feel that I’m hiding things from you, and that’s the truth. Some things are better left unknown, believe me. Like I said when we first spoke, I’m a follower of the Mad God, and everything I do is in the interest of his cause—”
“Orion, what are you after?” Scott suddenly interjected. “Why do you climb the tower? What do you seek to gain from all this?”
Palpable silence followed Scott’s inquiries, but it didn’t last long. “The truth,” Orion declared.
“The truth to what?” Scott frowned, awaiting the mage’s answer.
“The truth to everything,” the mage began. “Forgive me, but I don’t care about the needless or meaningless struggles within the tower. I couldn’t care less about attaining godhood or becoming a god. All that, and everything else for that matter, is irrelevant in the face of the truth,” the mage declared passionately. “The truth is the answer to everything. Someone out there must know the reason for why all that is has been, and why all that will be shall be. If there are higher dimensions, then there must be lower dimensions—who made them? What mysteries do they hold? I want to know it all. Why the tower exists as it does, and how it can be destroyed—I want to know it all. How every being came to be, I want to know it all. When, how, where, and why this reality will end—I want to know it all. The truth is the answer to it all, and I must search for it. That’s the only reason for my existence, and it’s why my existence shall persist until I find it.”
Scott felt his heart tremble for a fraction of a second. He knew his data-obsessed companion was peculiar, but he had no idea how grand Orion’s dreams were compared to most of the champions who simply wanted to survive. He took a deep breath, reclining in his chair once more. His gaze lingered on a portrait of a judge—a grand artwork depicting a faceless judge with flaming devilish horns and a golden trident.
“Your life is going to be a sad and empty one,” Scott said after a long pause.
“I know,” Orion replied with a giggle. “When gods and stars disappear into dust, I will remain. When the last light in all the known dimensions is extinguished, I will be there, and then, I will find happiness—knowing that I have found the truth.”
“I wish you good luck, truly,” Scott declared, averting his gaze from the painting. Now, he partially understood why no Orion in the vast timelines had approached the point of no return. They were busy seeking the truth.
“Before I go, have you heard of the Nameless One?” Scott suddenly asked.
“Scott, for your own good, never—and I mean never—speak of this again. Don’t tell me, don’t tell anyone,” Orion retorted, the urgency in his voice palpable. “I’ll let you rest,” the mage said, and his connection disappeared.
Scott, on the other hand, sat upright, his expression stern. Orion wasn’t one to shy away from any topic, but here he was, seemingly terrified of discussing the Nameless One.
You have absorbed the essence of a corpse deposited in the Nihilistic Zone! Physical Stats: Strength, Endurance, Toughness, and Dexterity have increased by 10! The Nameless One is looking at you! The Nameless One is pleased! The Nameless One notices a lesser god’s ??? on your form! The Nameless One is amused! The Nameless One has stopped watching you!
The blackened system messages vanished as soon as the nameless entity finished observing Scott. At that same moment, a knock echoed from the room’s exit, and Scott instinctively turned his head toward the golden door.
It couldn’t be her, right? Scott pondered as he stood up. Ember’s face popped into his mind for a moment, but he shook his head, dispelling the thought. The rhythmic knock echoed once more, but Scott didn’t approach the door, waiting for whoever it was to announce themselves.
Another knock followed; this time accompanied by a clear voice. “Pardon me, I’m here to deliver the item chosen by your companion,” it said.
Scott’s brows furrowed. Nobody mentioned anything like that. Are they sure they’ve got the right room? he thought, approaching the door.
“Do you wish to exit your room?” a voice suddenly projected itself into Scott’s mind. He narrowed his gaze, searching for the origin of the voice, but there was no one present.
“Do you wish to exit your room?” the voice repeated, and Scott focused on the door. No fucking way, right? He mused. He had seen many strange things in the tower, but a talking door was a first.
“Do you wish to exit your room?” The voice repeated a third time, and Scott was now certain it was the luxurious door speaking. How? He couldn’t say, and he had no desire to find out either.
“I want to see who is knocking,” Scott replied, and to his surprise, the runes on the door morphed, changing until a clear surface formed right in front of him. The projection of a young boy with a golden complexion and silver hair appeared on the door. The boy anxiously shifted in place, seemingly debating whether to knock again. He held a neatly decorated box in one hand, while his other hand hovered anxiously near the door.
I didn’t know the door can do this, it’s oddly convenient. But who the hell is this kid? Scott thought to himself.
“Do you wish to exit your room?” the voice repeated.
“Yes,” Scott replied after a brief pause, and a click echoed. The door creaked open, much to the delight of the toga-wearing boy in the luxurious hallway. The boy’s golden eyes focused on the open door, and his expression instantly soured. He instinctively took a step back, clearly frightened by the eerie eyes of the being before him.
“Who did you say sent you?” Scott questioned, ignoring the boy’s reaction.
“I-It was your companion,” the boy stammered, not daring to raise his head. “The undead,” he said.
Slim sent him? Why didn’t he say anything? Scott’s brows furrowed as the thought filled his mind.
“Slim, did you send me something?” Scott suddenly asked on the party channel.
Slim’s laughter echoed; his excitement palpable. “I can’t believe yours arrived first. Yes, I did. Trust me, buddy, you’re going to love it.”
“I take it that means you sent something to the rest of us too?” Zara probed.
“Of course,” Slim replied without hesitation. “But I’m not telling you what it is. Your minds are going to be blown…” the undead chortled.
The discussion continued, but Scott focused his attention on the young boy, extending his hand to receive the package. The boy hastily handed over the box before fleeing as if he had narrowly escaped a monster.
Scott stared at the sealed box, which was only seven inches tall on each side, wondering what was inside. He prepared to return to his room, but then he heard footsteps—different from the fleeing boy’s—echoing in the hallway.
Scott turned toward the source of the footsteps and saw a man with inky black hair that matched his black apparel and boots. Flaming crucifix tattoos covered his arms and neck, while a singular blackened crucifix tattoo was visible under his right eyelid. A lit cigar hung loosely between his lips, but Scott’s gaze lingered on the man’s sparkling yellow eyes.
Sensing Scott’s gaze, the man halted, staring back at the voidweaver. “Do I know you? Because for some reason, I don’t like you at all.”